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slu7formen · 2 days

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Girl first of all I want to say that I'm OBSESSED with your writing I love it.

Second of all I would like to make a request about Luke so hear me out.

Luke and reader were in a relationship before he betrayed camp and they were head over heals for each other and then he stole the bolt and when Percy discovers he's the thief the reader is there feeling betrayed and specially heartbroken even though Luke ask her to go with him but she doesn't accept it because she's so loyal to camp and her friends.

Time passed and even if she wants to hate Luke she loves him more than anything. And Luke loves her too so instead of asking Annabeth to escape with him he asks reader and she accepts.

I want to see everything in here fluff, angst, everything you think about.

I hope you like this request and make it real for me because I've been having this idea for over a week.

Okay but I feel so bad ‘cause I totally forgot I had this story FULLY WRITTEN and READY to be published (‘cause I LOVED it), I’m so sorry angel, made you wait a lot more than just a week 🥺, but thanks for reading my stories <3

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: luke´s a traitor, betrayal, use of yn, swearing, kinda angst (?, KISSING, lil book spoiler

₊˚⊹♡

The crackle and pop of the bonfire filled the air, a comforting contrast to the vibrant bursts of color exploding overhead. The annual fireworks display was in full swing, casting shadows on the faces of your friends huddled around the warm flames. It was a picture of peace, a moment of respite amidst the constant threat of monsters demigod drama.

You stole a glance at the empty space beside you. Luke, your boyfriend, had told you he'd just be back in a minute. A few minutes had turned into an eternity, but you chalked it up to his usual impulsiveness. He'd be back any minute, with his signature smile and an arm wrapped around you.

You knew it.

From the moment you met, you and Luke had been inseparable. You were his confidante, his anchor in the chaos of being a demigod and his messy life. He was your rock, always there to make you laugh, to understand the weight of your heritage in a way no one else could.

The warmth of the fire danced on your skin, but a shiver snaked down your spine. Something felt off. The chatter of your friends seemed muted, replaced by a dull ache in your chest. You couldn’t deny the way you noticed how Luke has been acting lately. So weird and distant towards you the last couple days. You loved him, fiercely and unconditionally. You'd been there for him through thick and thin, especially after his quest left a jagged scar across his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes.

But then he suddenly just, snapped.

A memory surfaced in you , sharp and unwelcome. It had been months ago, a conversation in the darkness of his cabin in a particular cold night. Luke, his eyes filled with a desperate fervor, had confessed his anger towards the gods, his belief that they were cruel and neglectful parents. He'd spoken of tricking the Olympians, joining forces with the Titans to fight for a better life for all demigods.

The anger in his voice, the glint of rebellion in his eyes, had scared you. The scar on his face, a reminder of his failed quest, seemed to burn brighter that night.

You understood his anger. The gods were far from perfect, their neglect and cruelty evident in countless demigod lives. He'd begged you to join him, his voice filled with a desperate hope. But you'd refused, your loyalty to Camp Half-Blood and your friends unwavering. You had spent hours talking him through it as you held his hand, reminding him of all the good the gods had done, no matter how flawed they might be. He'd looked lost at the time, seeking comfort in your touch. You'd thought you'd reached him, extinguished that spark of rebellion.

You really believed that conversation was long forgotten. But there was a reason why you remembered it.

Some movement at the edge of the woods caught your eye. But it wasn't the boy you were expecting. Percy, his face pale and etched with worry, practically stumbled into the fireplace, his chest heaving and his grip tight on Riptide.

A pang of concern shot through you. "Percy?" you called out, concern lacing your voice. You pushed yourself off the ground, walking towards him. "What happened? Where's Luke?"

Percy hesitated, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. Shit, should he tell you? His silence was a hammer blow to your gut. You knew, with a chilling certainty, that something was terribly wrong.

"What?" you choked out, the question barely a whisper, expecting some kind of answer from the blonde boy, but nothing came from his trembling lips. The air felt dense, with a truth you desperately wanted to deny. You saw Luke getting into the woods with Percy, you saw it. And now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Then, it clicked. A cold, horrifying truth began to dawn on you.

He lied.

Without a word, you pushed Percy aside and started running, towards the woods. Your heart hammered against your ribs, like a trapped bird desperate to escape. You plunged into the darkness of the forest, the path you'd walked countless times with Luke now leading you into the unknown.

"Luke!" you screamed, your voice raw with anger and despair. You wove through the trees, the undergrowth tearing at your camp shirt, but you didn't care. You had to find him, to confront him, to understand why he'd chosen this path, if he chose it, why he'd lied to you.

But with each passing minute, hope crashed over you. The forest grew denser, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the frantic beat of your own heart. There was no sign of Luke, no echo of his footsteps, no smell, no sense of his presence, only the chilling truth hanging heavy in the air.

He was gone.

He had left.

You sank to your knees, the weight of betrayal crushing you as the first tears you ever cried for Luke Castellan, started to fall. The man you loved, the person you'd trusted with your life, had chosen darkness over everything you held dear. He had chosen Kronos over you.

Grief, a cold and relentless serpent, coiled around your heart. And that feeling never seemed to leave.

The year that followed was a blur of sadness and a desperate attempt at normalcy. The silence from Luke was deafening. Not a single Iris-message, not a single sign of the one who once, was your boyfriend.

You knew you wouldn´t be able to return to Camp, at least not for now. Every corner held a ghost of Luke's smile, every sword clang a reminder of his battles and his betrayal. Your friends, the true ones, bless their hearts, tried everything to cheer you up from a distance, but their efforts felt like trying to pick up the pieces of a broken glass in the sea.

You opted to stay home that summer. But even there, away from the prying eyes and hushed whispers, escape from Luke's betrayal seemed impossible. Messages and news found you no matter where you hid. News of Luke leading a rogue army aboard a stolen cruise ship, rumors of him serving as Kronos's right hand while the Titan slumbered – it all reached your ears.

The nights were the worst. The darkness mirrored the hollowness within you. Tears would stain your pillow as you relived the events leading up to his betrayal. You once seemed to dream about seeing him again, and now you only screamed when you saw his face in your nightmares.

The memory of his touch, the warmth of his smile, the nights you spent loving each other with the sheets tangling in your legs, all felt like cruel illusions now. Yet, a part of you, a stubborn, illogical part, still clung to the love you once shared.

And Gods, did you try to keep yourself as busy as possible. You threw yourself into your studies and little courses here and there, seeking solace in facts and logic. You even began working, a boring but well payed summer job. Yet, the pain lingered, a dull ache that refused to subside.

The more you tried to banish these visions, the more vivid they became. You missed him like a starving man craved a feast, a yearning that gnawed at your insides and threatened to consume you. Frustration gnawed at you. How could you still love someone who'd betrayed you so utterly? How could your heart still ache for a man who chose war over you? The questions echoed endlessly within you, a relentless chorus fueling your self-conscious.

How could you be so weak?

These consuming questions were your companions for a whole year. But as the second summer after Luke's betrayal rolled around, a shift occurred within you. The raw, agonizing pain began to dull, replaced by a quiet resolve.

Finally, you decided it was time to take back control again. Camp Half-Blood called, a familiar haven among the storm. You returned a changed person. The vibrant smile that once adorned your face was a ghost, replaced by a guarded expression that spoke about the pain you harbored in silence. The camp's familiar energy felt hollow, a constant reminder of the happiness you'd lost.

Training became your sole solace. You'd disappear into the arena for hours, your celestial bronze sword a blur as you cleaved through training dummies, each swing fueled by a potent cocktail of grief and anger.

Exhaustion became your closest companion too. You pushed yourself to the limits of your endurance, hoping to find oblivion at the bottom of an empty fuel tank. But sleep, when it finally came, offered no escape. You'd dream of him, leading his army of rogue demigods, his eyes filled with a fanatical zeal that chilled you to the bone. And in those dreams, you'd see yourself, standing beside him, not out of loyalty to his cause, but out of a desperate yearning for the boy you once loved, still love.

In the quiet moments, when your friends weren't around, the dam would break. You'd collapse onto your cool and empty bed, tears streaming down your face, a raw, primal sob escaping your lips. The memory of Luke was no joy anymore, it haunted you like a specter.

You hated yourself for the traitorous flicker in your heart, the desperate, illogical yearning for him. It wasn't the war that tempted you; it was him.

You hated how much you missed him.

The scent of rain clung to the humid night air and to you like a second skin as you zipped up your duffel bag. Another summer at Camp Half-Blood loomed, promising a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and pain, but more training. The worst was yet to come, so you needed to be ready.

New York City, with its cacophony of car horns and the anonymity of millions, had become your refuge these past few months. In Manhattan, the memories of Luke seemed to hold less power for some weird reason, their edges dulling with the passage of time. You'd spent the past months in this tiny apartment, the silence deafening compared to the constant hum of life at camp.

Just then, a sharp rap on the door shattered the silence of your apartment. It was past midnight, an unusual time for visitors.

Adrenaline surged through you. Months of living fully alone had honed your senses. You'd become acutely aware of the city's underbelly – the flickering shadows that could hide monsters thanks to the ever-present mist. You'd seen them stalking the streets, stalking you, their true forms hidden to them mortals, an unsettling feeling crawling up your spine whenever their paths crossed yours. They never attacked, but their chilling presence followed you like a phantom.

Grabbing your necklace, you asked, "Yes?"

Silence. You weren't taking any chances. Pulling down at the pendant once, the necklace morphed into your celestial bronze dagger.

You took a step, two. Could it really be a monster? Could it really be some creature trying to get to you, by knocking on the door? With a shaky breath, you cracked the door open just enough to peek through the gap, hiding the dagger behind your back.

The sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs.

Standing on your doorstep, bathed in the harsh glow of the hallway light, was Luke. His dark hair was windswept, his face etched with a gauntness that hadn't been there before, but his eyes – those were the same eyes that had haunted your dreams for months. They held a desperate plea, a flicker of the boy you once loved struggling to break through the hardened shell of the man he'd become.

“Luke?”

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and a tangled web of emotions. Time seemed to warp in that hallway, a single moment stretched into an eternity. Luke looked different, yes. The carefree boy you knew had been replaced by a man hardened by experience, his features etched with lines that spoke of battles fought and burdens carried. But his eyes, those brown eyes that had once held a mischievous twinkle, now held a deeper sadness that mirrored your own.

"Hi" Luke finally said, his voice raspy.

You stood speechless, the dagger still clutched tightly in your hand. Years of longing warred with the fresh wounds of betrayal. You wanted to scream at him, to unleash the torrent of hurt and anger that suddenly washed over you. But something held you back, a flicker of curiosity, maybe.

"Um, can I come in?" he continued, his posture pleading despite his attempt at nonchalance.

Jesus. Was that all he had to say? After everything, after what he did, all he could muster was a request to enter your apartment? A tide of anger threatened to drown you. Did he not understand the gravity of what he'd done? Did he not realize the pain he'd caused? But you forced your thoughts down. You weren't a child anymore, throwing tantrums wouldn't solve anything.

"Are you armed?" you asked, your voice flat, devoid of any warmth.

Luke flinched at your question, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "You think I wanna hurt you?" he countered, his tone defensive.

"Last time I saw you," you spat back, your voice laced with bitterness, "was three years ago, and I know your little monsters are keeping an eye on me. The first thing I'm supposed to think about is whether you want to hurt me or not."

He sighed, a long, weary exhale. Unzipping his jacket, he turned slowly, patting down his pockets before turning back to you. His eyes, once alive with mischief and love, were now filled with a desperate sincerity. "See? No weapons. Just me."

You studied him, a battle raging within you. One part of you wanted to slam the door, to let him know that he wasn't welcome. Yet, another part, a smaller, more vulnerable part, couldn't help but cling to the flicker of hope that flickered amongst the ashes of your love.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you stepped aside, allowing a sliver of space for him to enter. "Fine" you said, your voice devoid of warmth. "But you better have a good reason to come here"

Luke hesitated for a beat before stepping inside. He closed the door softly behind him, the sound echoing through the tense silence. He stood there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the room, landing finally on the packed bags besides the tv.

"You're heading back to camp?" he asked.

You flipped the dagger in your hand, and the celestial bronze morphed back into the golden necklace. "What do you want?" you repeated, your voice still sharp, a shield against the emotions swirling within you.

Luke stood awkwardly in the doorway, the once carefree boy replaced by a man burdened by the weight of his choices. His leather jacket seemed to hang heavy on his broad shoulders.

"I…" he started, then stopped, seemingly unsure how to proceed. He cleared his throat, the sound scratchy and unfamiliar. "You look different" he finally managed, the words tumbling out awkwardly.

You scoffed, a humorless sound that surprised even you.

"Look, yn" he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wanna talk, okay? I know what I did was wrong. I know I hurt you."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "You could say that again."

His fingers twitched at your bitterness, but pressed on. "I came here because..." He hesitated again, seemingly wrestling with an inner turmoil. "Because I-"

Frustration bubbled up within you. This cryptic approach, this lack of honesty, it was infuriating. "Because you what, Luke?" you demanded, your voice laced with a sharp edge. "Because you decided to grace me with your presence after leading a rebellion against the gods? Or maybe because you just wanted to see if I'm still waiting for you?"

You watched his face harden, the vulnerability replaced by a familiar defiance.

"Don't twist this" he snapped, his voice firm. "I came here because..." He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. "Because I miss you, yn. I miss us."

The air crackled with a tension so thick you could almost taste it.

You took a slow step towards him, then another. He took notes of yourself as you did. The way you had grown internally was so intense that he could sense it everywhere. He might have betrayed you, but that only helped you get on your feet stronger, grow stronger. Become the warrior he always knew you were.

Then, in a move as instinctive as it was fierce, your hand lashed out. The slap connected with a stinging crack, the sound echoing through the apartment like a thunderclap. Luke's head snapped to the side, a crimson handprint blooming on his cheek. Shame flickered in his eyes as he scoffed, quickly replaced by a dull acceptance.

He deserved it, that much was clear.

"How dare you?” you spat, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury, "How fucking dare you come back here after what you've done? After leading a rebellion against the gods, after putting everyone we care about at risk? After betraying me?"

Luke took a shaky breath, running a hand over the burning mark on his face. "I'm sorry” he said, his voice low and ragged. "I'm so sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know a simple apology won't erase the pain or fix things. But you have to believe me, I never meant for things to get this bad"

He stepped towards you, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture, but you flinched back, the space between you a tangible barrier. "Don't touch me" you warned, your voice laced with ice.

He lowered his hands, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I know you hate me for what I´ve done. For joining Kronos, I-“

"You think this is all about Kronos?" you cut him off, your voice shaking with barely contained fury. "You think the reason my heart has been broken these past years is because you joined a fucking Titan?"

Luke remained silent, the weight of your words pressing down on him like a collapsing mountain. He knew better.

"This is about what you did to me, Luke" you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. "I was with you, all the time. I was your girlfriend! And you betrayed me. You left me alone” your voice broke so hard that you had to take a second to swallow the big gulp that was forming in your throat. “Everyone at camp looked at me after what you did," you choked out. "They either felt sorry for me, or they insulted me, saying that I was still loyal to you, that I was a traitor."

You closed your eyes for a moment, the pain etched on your face a stark reminder of the devastation he'd wrought. "You were the most important person in my life" you cried, your voice raw and vulnerable. "But you? You let Kronos fill your head with empty promises, and just like that, you forgot about us."

The truth felt like a bitter pill to swallow. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I asked you to come with me" he finally whispered, his voice thick with regret. "I gave you the chance to leave with me."

"And even after I said no," you countered, your voice trembling like the finger that was now pointing at his chest, "you still left. You threw me away like shit. And do you know what the worst part is?" Tears streamed down your face, tracing a path through the dust of old heartache. "That as much as I try, I can't seem to hate you."

A sob escaped your lips, shattering the fragile dam you'd built around your emotions. "I still love you, Luke" you confessed. "Even though it's a love that fills me with pain, it's still there. I hate myself because I dream about you, about the way things used to be. But when I don't, I feel like a piece of me is missing."

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears and a raw vulnerability that left Luke speechless.

What had he done?

"I hate myself because I can't help but pray for your safety, even though you never seemed to care about mine. I hate myself because even after everything, I still love you, Luke."

Your heart felt like a shattered kaleidoscope, a million shards of love, anger, and pain reflecting back at you in a distorted reality. You walked and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as sobs racked your body.

Luke, his heart heavy with a remorse sharper than any weapon, watched you crumble. The carefree girl he fell in love with was gone, replaced by a woman etched with the scars of his own actions. Hesitantly, he reached out, placing a hand on your back as he sat down next to you, a gesture of comfort that felt more like a branding iron on his guilt.

"yn” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I still love you too."

You didn't respond, the sobs coming in ragged gasps as your body struggled to contain the storm within.

"I know I left you" he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "And you didn't deserve it. But… I was so lost, so angry. Kronos promised me power, a solution to all the problems I saw. He convinced me that Olympus was corrupt, that the gods didn't care about half-bloods like us. And when you said no, he-, he told me leaving you behind, said that it would be easier for everyone…"

His voice trailed off. Easier for who? Easier for him, perhaps, to sever the ties that bound him, to plunge headfirst into a rebellion fueled by manipulated ideals.

"But it wasn't" he choked out, a tear escaping his eye, carving a glistening path down his cheek. "Every day, every step I took… it was a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The guilt was eating me alive, yn, you have to believe me”. His hands desperately reached for yours, trying to get your fingers to intertwine by placing his over yours.

Tears welled up in his own eyes. "I regret everything. I mean it. I don't want to do this anymore."

You finally lifted your head, your eyes red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. Luke looked different to you now, the bravado and arrogance gone, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored your own.

"Don't want to do what?" you asked, your voice hoarse.

"This” he gestured vaguely to himself, but you didn’t quite catch it. "Following Kronos. Helping him rise to power. It's wrong. I can see that now."

“Little late to that, isn’t it?” you blurted out.

He took a deep breath, his expression resolute. "yn, there's a reason I came to you. A reason I risked Kronos' trust in me." He paused, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Kronos wants me to become his host."

And the world seemed to suddenly stop. You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Your mind raced, trying to process what he had just said. Luke, your Luke, becoming a vessel for the monstrous Titan?

"What?" you croaked, fear coating your voice like frost. Your eyes darted around, searching for a way out, a solution, anything. But Luke wouldn't meet your gaze, his jaw clenched tight, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. "No. No, he can't. It's not possible."

The thought of him, Luke, being consumed by Kronos, twisted your insides into knots.

Luke, however, seemed to gather his resolve. "Yes, it is" he said, his voice low and strained. "There are things you don't know, yn. Things I've done."

A cold dread gripped your stomach, a physical manifestation of the terror that clawed at your insides. Your mind raced, desperate for answers. "Then tell me" you only managed to say. "Luke, what have you done?"

He hesitated, looking around as if afraid someone might be listening. "There's no time now" he finally said, his voice tight with urgency. "But I promise I will explain everything. That's not why I'm here."

Taking a deep breath, he dared to reach out, his hand gently grasping yours, finally. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through you, a stark contrast to the chilling fear that gripped you.

He called your name, his voice softening. "Come with me" he said.

You only feel capable of frowning your brows in confusion. "Go where?" you asked, your voice wary.

"Anywhere" he said, like a plea. "Let's run away, together. It can be just you and me again"

He leaned closer, the air around him crackling with a tension that mirrored the storm within you. As his forehead rested against yours, a jolt of electricity shot through you. It was a familiar warmth, a spark that had ignited countless stolen kisses and whispered secrets back when your world wasn't teetering on the brink of war. His other hand cupped your cheek, the touch a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you. His hand, usually warm and comforting, felt cool against your burning skin, a physical reminder of the distance that had grown between you. Yet, despite the chill, a wave of longing washed over you, a yearning for the simple comfort of his touch.

But reason tugged at you, a voice of caution in the midst of the storm. "But Luke," you stammered, pulling away slightly, "If you escape, Kronos will come for you. He'll come for us, and-,"

"I don't care" he interrupted, his voice resolute, yet laced with a tremor that betrayed his bravado. It was as if he was on the precipice, teetering between defiance and the vulnerability of a man on the verge of breaking. "I'll fight everything that comes for us. And if the war happens... I'll fight. I'll fight for everyone, I’ll fight for you. I'm not losing you again, yn."

His words resonated deep within you, a desperate echo of the love you still harbored for him, a love you thought you'd buried beneath layers of anger and sadness. You saw the fear in his eyes, a fear that you sadly shared, but beneath it, a flicker of something else – a raw, desperate hope. And as you looked at him, a wave of relief washed over you.

The relief of knowing he wasn't entirely lost, that a part of the Luke you loved still existed.

"I love you" he confessed again, his voice trembling.

Looking into his eyes, a storm of emotions swirling within them, the truth resonated with you. "I love you too" you whispered, the words tumbling from your lips like a long-awaited confession.

The world did indeed, stop. The rain, a relentless symphony against the window pane, faded into a distant murmur. The thunders became a muffled echo. In that moment, the only reality was the space between you and Luke, charged with the unspoken electricity of your confessions.

He leaned in further, a hesitant question in his eyes. A flicker of fear danced in their depths, a scared boy seeking forgiveness beneath the warrior's facade. You watched him, a bittersweet ache blooming in your chest.

With a sigh that trembled on your lips, you closed the distance. Your lips met in a hesitant touch, a tentative exploration of a forgotten familiarity. Three years of longing, of unspoken words and simmering emotions, poured into that kiss. It was sweeter than you'd dared to imagine, a warmth that spread from your lips and drizzled down your chest.

Unlike the passionate encounters of your past, this felt different; like kissing him for the first time. Luke's lips moved against yours with a reverence that sent shivers down your spine. He held back, his desperate desire tempered with a respect that surprised you. You knew him.

But then, you yielded. Your lips parted, a silent invitation, and his tongue met yours in a dance as old as time. A full, heavy and angry thunderclap erupted outside, a jarring contrast to the intimacy unfolding on the couch. But you paid it no mind, lost in the whirlpool of rediscovered affection.

Your arms encircled his neck, a desperate hold. He, in turn, cupped your waist, his touch lingering on the curve of your hip as he gently lowered you onto the soft cushion. His body hovered above yours. His lips, however, remained glued to yours, a relentless exploration that spoke of a love both fierce and fragile.

The kiss deepened, a slow burn that threatened to consume you both. You felt the familiar rhythm of his heart against yours, a counterpoint to the frantic beat of your own. It was a melody of second chances, of unspoken apologies and nascent hope.

His hand trailed down your back, teasingly brushing under your shirt, sending shivers dancing across your skin. You arched into his touch, a wordless plea for more. But just then, he pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions.

His voice, a husky murmur against your skin, sent shivers down your spine. "I missed this so much," he whispered, his lips trailing down the delicate column of your neck and the dip of your collarbone. His warm breath mingled with your own, a heady mix of emotions swirling around you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, the familiar texture a stark reminder of the past you both desperately clung to. He reached for your pulse, slowly sucking in before letting it pop.

"I wanted to feel you every night" he confessed. "Every night, I dreamt of you." His words were a stark contrast to the cold, distant Luke you saw in your dreams, the only vivid memory you’ve had of him the past years.

"Luke" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to speak.

He didn't stop. His hand drifted down your torso, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your lower tummy. Every touch felt like a brand, a searing reminder of what you had lost and the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"It was a mistake" he said, his voice thick with regret. "A big, fucking mistake. Leaving you, betraying you-, it was the biggest mistake of my life. My life doesn't make any sense without you."

With a strangled sound, Luke deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own. You clung to him, a drowning sailor grasping at a lifeline. The scent of leather that clung to him was intoxicating, a familiar anchor in this storm of emotions.

"Luke" you managed to gasp between kisses, a flicker of reason breaking through the haze of desire. You needed more than just words, needed a binding promise, something concrete to hold onto if you were to take this leap of faith.

He stared at you, his eyes a storm of emotions – desire, confusion, and a flicker of something that might have been annoyance. But before he could respond, you pressed on.

"Swear on it, Luke" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "Swear on the River Styx” you repeat. Luke’s eyes dart back and forth, from your lips, to your eyes, to filling up with confusion. “I’m not-,” you cut yourself off as you feel your eyes filling with tears again. You bit your tongue before speaking, “I’m not letting you hurt me like this again"

You knew it was selfish, a desperate attempt to safeguard your heart. But Luke was here, finally, after all this time. You craved the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence. The thought of letting him go again, of enduring another betrayal, was unbearable. Yet, a part of you, still scarred from the past, craved a guarantee, an oath sworn on the most powerful river in the Underworld. It was dangerous, yes, but did you care?

Did he care?

Luke's expression hardened. The River Styx, held a weight that couldn't be ignored. The river he already bathed himself in. It was a binding vow, a promise etched in the very fabric of existence.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of doubt, a hint of manipulation. But all he saw was the vulnerability, the fear – a vulnerability born from the scars he himself had inflicted.

"I swear on the River Styx" he said, his voice low and solemn, each word heavy with the weight of the oath. "I swear I won’t ever leave you. I swear I love you. I swear I'll fight for you, for us, with every breath in my lungs."

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ithebookhoarder · 2 days

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Hello hi ! 🤗

Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?

(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover

A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕

Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field.

This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you��re trying to do and why - even if you were already together.

As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over.

However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary.

“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?”

“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?”

“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”

He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes.

David Rossi

He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover.

“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”

He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either.

One, because he’s kind of flattered.

Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves.

Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you.

“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks.

Derek Morgan

Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you.

Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss.

Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it.

The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss.

If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms.

“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.”

“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.”

Emily Prentiss

She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple.

She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you.

“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck.

She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision.

She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.”

With that, she’d be off.

She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself.

“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.”

JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so.

However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in.

She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control.

“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.

After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.

Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.”

Luke Alvez

It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house.

Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights.

“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“

“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.”

“I - ok.”

Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed.

Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.

“You good?”

“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.”

“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”

“No. They just left out the back.”

“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.”

Penelope Garcia

If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.

Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.

All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.

She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it.

“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”

“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.”

“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”

Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together.

As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally.

He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body.

I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear.

“What was that?”

“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”

“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.”

Masterlist

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iloveboysinred · 2 days

Text

WEST DISTRICT [Saturo Gojo]rewrite

18+ mdni | Gojo x fem reader smut, sequel to you've been missed

synopsis; The days following you and Gojo's encounter, nothing much had really changed. You didn't know how he always found his way into your life. One night, he decides to take you out, his heart on his sleeve as he tries to win you back.

cw; sappy Gojo, three seconds of possessive Gojo, shower sex, p in v sex, oral (fem receiving, Saturo is a munch, change my mind..) "stop running" kind of activities, porn with feelings, minimal use of y/n (I don't think I used it at all), smutty smut smut MDNI!!!!!!!!1 lmk if I missed anything, minimally proofread, written by an amateur :')

5.4k words

decided to rewrite this because I didn't like the first version at all, hope you enjoy sweet cookie bear readers :3 listened to this song while I wrote

masterlist

You had to admit slowly cutting Gojo out of your life was something you never thought possible to begin with.

All the time you had spent chasing after him and pining for his attention, you tried to now invest in yourself; improving your cursed technique, spending more time with your co-sorcerers, even indulging in new hobbies to keep yourself occupied.

But it was hard to ignore him. He was everywhere all the time.

Besides the few times where you would accidentally lock eyes, catching him glancing over at you on more than one occasion, you would hear chatter about him at Jujutsu Tech. Or irritatingly enough, your friends would ask questions about him, wondering why you never seemed to bring him up anymore. It seemed like no matter where you went, Gojo would follow.

It was frustrating, trying to pretend he didn’t exist when he constantly made his presence in your world known, even if it wasn’t on purpose.

What made it worse was the fact that things hadn’t changed much from that night. Gojo still couldn’t find time in his schedule to text you, let alone call you. It stung, sure, but you weren’t the slightest bit surprised. The only thing you could say is that his gaze lingered on you longer than it used to, and he made somewhat more of an effort to try and communicate with you in person. It was nice, but you still felt like he wasn’t treating you as a priority.

“I just need you to be patient, okay?”

His words from that night still buzzed around in your head, making you feel even more bitterness at the fact that since then he still hadn’t really made time for you. You thought maybe you were just overreacting, it had only been three days since the last time you had sex with him, and everyone knew he was a busy man. Knowing this you tried to be patient, but you just don’t know how much longer you could keep waiting.

So, here you were, laying in bed cozied up and watching your favorite tv show. It was hard to pay attention, your mind elsewhere, the tv empty background noise to the thoughts coursing through your mind. It was late and you thought you’d probably be heading to bed soon, but you couldn’t sleep, distracted by anxiously glancing at your phone once in a while, just to end up disappointed when the screen remained blank.

Your mind wandered over to Gojo, shamefully feeling giddy at the thought of him, his hair, his eyes, his body– down to the way he knew how to pleasure you so well. It was times like these that you wished he was there.

The warmth in your chest almost made you feel pitiful, reminding yourself that he had to earn the right to have access to you.

You gave your phone one last solemn glance before just deciding to pick it up, the stupidly cliché thought of “what's the worst that can happen?” convincing you to send Gojo a text.

“Saturday 7:30 A.M” “Good morning, pretty ❤️” “Good morning, toru” was the last exchange between the two of you before there had been radio silence on both ends. You stared at the texts for a second, pondering on what to send him. Should you ask what he was doing? No, it’s 8:00, what else could he be doing besides sitting at home? Maybe you should ask if he wanted to go out somewhere tomorrow– but then it would defeat the entire point of making him put in the effort. Your internal debate ended when your eyes caught the text bubble popping up on your screen. He was typing. You sat up a little in anticipation, turning your read receipts off just so he wouldn’t know you were stalking his messages.

“Heyyy pretty girl 🥰 whatcha doingggg?”

You turned your phone off, setting it aside and trying to focus on the tv. Stopping yourself from responding too quickly. You ignored your phone when it pinged again, swallowing down your anxious excitement. You felt like a highschool girl fawning over your crush. It was almost embarrassing how hard you had to force down the urge to respond.

But then it just kept going. Ping after ping until you caved in and checked your phone.

“Toru <333 (26 new messages) “

Swiping up you gaped at the barrage of messages, the text bubble reappearing right as you opened the chat.

“What is it, Gojo ? 26 messages is crazy.”

“Read receipts off, baby? I knew you were ignoring me 😣”

“You’re one to complain. Sorry I'm not waiting hand and foot for you anymore.”

You felt as if you were being unnecessarily cold, almost wanting to send a cheeky remark to soothe the sting of your response. But you didn’t, waiting patiently to see what he would say next. Afterall you were still on the fence about him, deciding a few rude words didn’t seem like a big deal compared to the way he has been acting for months now.

“Ouch, pretty girl. You’re so mean to little ol’ me… anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to go out to eat with me tonight?”

You looked down at yourself for a second, considering his offer. Your bed was comfortable and you didn’t really plan on going anywhere, your pajamas and tousled hair evidence of that. But then again, you were always cooped up in your apartment, and this kind of energy was exactly what you’d been asking him for. You texted him your agreement and he told you to be ready by 9. You’d taken your time getting ready, pampering yourself and making sure you looked nothing short of ravishing. You opted for a sleek navy cocktail dress and some black heels, your hair pinned and framing your face perfectly, your simple outfit paired with some light perfume, the elegant scent sure to attract some compliments on your night out.

It was 9:10 when you heard a series of knocks on your door, signifying that Gojo had arrived. Glancing yourself over one last time, you opened the door to let him in. It seemed as though he had opted to keep it simple as well, wearing a plain white button up and some slacks, his blindfold gone in exchange for a simple pair of sunglasses. He greeted you, pulling a singular rose from behind his back and handing it over, a bright smile on his face. “You look amazing, y/n” he looked you over a couple of times, drinking you in. You gave him a small smile, setting the rose down on your countertop. The gesture made you want to melt, but you reminded yourself once again that this was just half a step towards him making everything up to you.

“Well, let's go. Are you just gonna stand there, Gojo?” you quipped, impatient to get going. “Sorry, just wanted to check you out a bit, baby” He smirked when you rolled your eyes, grabbing your hand in his and leading you outside.

The ride was getting to about 30 minutes from your place, you and Gojo driving through the city in comfortable silence. You would occasionally catch him throwing fleeting glances at you, his grip on the steering wheel tight. You could tell he was nervous about something, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going, or what he had planned. It was almost making your nerves act up as well, briefly wondering if he was planning to murder you or something.

You pushed those thoughts away though, when you pulled up in front of a beautiful restaurant. It was cozy, warm lighting filtering through the blinds and jazz music faintly humming from the inside. White curtains flowing freely from the windows on the second floor balcony overlooking the city underneath. It was probably the nicest restaurant you’d ever been to. Making you confused when you noticed that nobody was inside, only a handful of waiters and waitresses standing behind the counter.

“Come on, pretty. I reserved the whole place for us.” You looked at him in mild shock, Gojo looking away from you to fumble with the car keys, turning the ignition off and stepping out, coming around to open your door and help you out of the passenger seat. The place looked so much prettier now that you were standing in front of it. “Wow Gojo this is…a lot.” an anxious look briefly came over him, glancing between you and the building. “Is it too much?” you shook your head, offering him a shy smile. “It’s perfect, Gojo.. thank you.”

Walking in you were cheerily greeted by a waitress, bringing you up to the second floor to a balcony seat, placing down the two menus on the table. You barely caught the exchange of looks she and Gojo exchanged, the view in front of you capturing your attention almost immediately. You weren’t that high up, but you could still see the glittering lights from the buildings and skyscrapers in the distance. The breeze carried with it faint scents of food and the sounds of the city, blowing your hair out of your face, the flames from the candles dancing in the direction the wind was going.

You could feel Gojo’s stare, and you turned to meet it. Locking eyes for a second before he hurriedly picked up the menu.

“Gojo..” your voice was so sweet, warming his chest and encouraging him to peek at you from over the laminated piece of paper. You looked so beautiful, it took his breath away. So many questions and regrets swirling in his mind. How could he deny himself of you for so long? Why did he push you away when you were always right in front of him, waiting for him to be the person you deserved? He sighed, dropping the menu back down on the table, reaching over to grab your hand in his. “ I want to really apologize,” he knew he was starting in the right direction, but he just couldn’t get the words out, his anxiety of what you might say choking him up.

“I should’ve never said those words to you that night– I should’ve been treating you better from the beginning, honestly. I want to ask for your forgiveness. You’re so much more to me than a booty call. I care for you. I really do. I don't care what the higher ups or anybody has to say. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.” His eyes bore into yours, heart dropping to his stomach when you pulled your hands away, looking at him with hesitation. He couldn’t blame you, though. The last thing he deserved from you was forgiveness. It was only fair that you broke his heart a fraction of how he had broken yours multiple times.

“Honestly, Saturo.. I think it’ll take a little more than a few nice words and a pretty restaurant for you to erase everything you put me through. I need more effort from you. This is our first date ever and I've known you for years. I deserve better than a text here and there and a once in the blue moon call. I want you to change, okay? “ You stared at him imploringly, sitting up to wrap your arms around yourself. “ I’ve had feelings for you since I met you, but we never went anywhere. I’m just afraid you’re gonna keep wasting my time.. “ His chest tightened, bringing his hands back over, grabbing yours from their secure place in your arms. “Baby, I swear to you– on everything I love that I won’t. I’ll be the man you deserve. I’ll change and I'll be somebody that makes you happy, okay? Just give me one last chance.”

Your face softened at his groveling, the expression of pure sincerity and pleading in his eyes making your heart clench with affection. It was so unlike him, to be so soft like this, and it felt good knowing he was doing it for you. “Okay..” he smiled at you, sweetly bringing your hand up to press a warm kiss to your knuckles. “Okay, baby.”

The night went by smoothly, you chatted, ate, danced and laughed. It was getting late now, and when you were readying yourself to leave the same waitress from before scurried up to your table, setting down a plate with a big slice of your favorite kind of cake, the words “Be my girlfriend;)” written in chocolate icing neatly decorating the plate. You looked up at Gojo with a blank look on your face, raising your eyebrows at his smug face. “Really, Saturo?” “If you don’t answer I'll eat it.” You rolled your eyes, picking up your fork and taking a piece into your mouth “We’ll see, okay?” he deflated a little, but still reached over to pick up a fork, taking his share. “You really shouldn’t eat with your mouthfull” “oh shut up, Gojo”

When you got back in the car the atmosphere was lighter, soft music playing from the radio, the two of you sharing little stories and jokes. It was nice, and for the first time you felt content with him, allowing those same feelings you had been trying to forget come rushing back. You watched him as he drove, lazily leaning back, steering with one hand on the wheel. He looked so good and you couldn’t help but squeeze your knees together, filthy memories swirling around in your head. Quickly, you look back outside, trying to distract yourself watching the city pass you by in a blur.

You pulled up in front of Gojo's home, deciding you should head back to his place and leave for Jujutsu Tech together the following morning. It wasn’t as extravagant as you’d think it was, but definitely bigger than the average home. It was a bit of a distance away from the city, sitting in a secluded area surrounded by trees and other plant life. The place was vacant, and quiet, you briefly reminded yourself that Gojo spent most of his time at the school, and Megumi lived in the dorms.

Gojo opened the car door, helping you step out and walk up the cobblestone walkway, mindful of the fact you had on heels. When you walked in he helped steady you as you took them off, dropping them right next to the door, the wooden floors cold under your bare feet. You’d been to his house a few times in the past, so you somewhat knew your way around, walking up to the grand kitchen, always clean from its lack of use. Gojo came up behind you, holding onto your waist and nuzzling his face into your neck. while you poured yourself a glass of water.

“Hey Gojo” “hmm?” “Do you have any soap and towels? I wanna take a shower.” You felt him smile into your neck “can we take one together, pretty girl?” he hummed, rocking you side to side. You paused for a second, thinking it over. Showers with Gojo could never just be showers. He always had his hands on you, pressing up against you so you could feel how hard you had made him. He always got so touchy; threading his fingers through your hair, sucking red marks into the side of your neck.

“Yeah...yeah Let's go” walking to his room he pulled out a pair of fluffy white towels from the closet, handing you one. You set it on the bed, opting to get out of your clothes right there instead of having to carry everything back with you. You stood in front of the mirror, catching a glimpse of Gojo behind you, watching you as you stripped right in front of him. You slipped the dress over your head. He sauntered over to you; pressing himself against your body. “Fuck…no panties, baby?” he rasped, making chills flit up and down your spine. “Mmhm” you teasingly whined your hips back into him, giggling at the low moan he breathed right by your ear. “Can we skip the shower, pretty girl? I think I'll lose my mind if I don't get a taste of you right now..” you reached up, placing your hand on his cheek, Gojo melting into your touch. He was so desperate, grabbing your hips and anchoring them against him, pressing your ass harder against his crotch. “Please..please, baby.” he whined, pressing light kisses against the side of your neck. You almost wanted to give in when you felt his hardening bulge against you.

You pulled away from him, suppressing a laugh at the stricken look that overcame his face, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around yourself, obstructing his view of you. “Don’t be gross, Saturo. We’re sweaty. We’re taking a shower” he rolled his eyes, grabbing his towel and following you into the bathroom.

Steam shrouded the glass of the shower doors, the heated water stinging your skin, your muscles relaxing in satisfaction. Saturo held you in his arms, his woefully resting his cheek against your shoulder. His fine strands of hair tickling your neck.

The warmth of his body made you want to doze off. He lazily rubbed your soapy washcloth up and down your back, playfully rubbing it over the swell of your ass, flicking the soapy cloth against your skin, snickering when your head parted from his collarbone, looking up at him with a bleary glare.

You looked so pretty right there, the steam made the warm color of your lips stand out, the droplets of water collecting in your eyelashes, dribbling down your skin tempting him to kiss you. He pressed his lips to yours, letting his eyes fall shut, blissful of the warmth radiating from your body.

Gojo quietly sighed into the kiss when you followed his lead. Pressing your lips back against his, holding onto his shoulders and deepening the kiss. He could feel his heart beating miles a minute and he swore he would die right there; relishing the feel of your lips on his.

He ran his hands down your sides, squeezing your hips affectionately, chasing your lips when you pulled away. Separating from you was making him dizzy, the steam in the bathroom causing sweat to sheen above his brow, the air you stole from his lungs making him struggle to catch his breath.

“Toru…” you mumbled, pressing your lips so sweetly to the corner of his mouth, his heart clenching at the nickname. “I love when you call me that, baby..” he breathed, his crotch against yours, the beginning of an erection hard pressed against the skin of your navel. “You haven’t called me that in a good long while, pretty girl..” you closed your eyes, leaning your forehead against his collarbone. His body loomed over you, his lips pressing nips and kisses to the side of your neck. “Say it again, baby..” he bit down softly on the junction of your neck and shoulder, his soapy hands coming down to grip the swell of your ass, kneading it firmly, the washcloth long forgotten, discarded somewhere on the floor.

“I never knew you liked it” his had creeped down to the underside of your thigh, picking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist. He backed you into the shower wall, eyes gazing into yours. His pupils were shot, droplets dripping from his hair, and running down the front of his face. The tip of his dick kissed the skin of your pussy, the firm head of his dick bumping against your clit as he rubbed himself against you. “Anything sounds good coming from your lips” he breathed, and you smiled, placing a sweet kiss right to his collarbone.

Looking down, you watched his length slide back and forth between your thighs, the friction making heat slowly rise in your core, warmth swarming in your chest at the blatant display of his need for you. “Toru, stop teasing me, its fucking hot in here” the heat in the room was frustrating, the steam from the shower and the warmth radiating from his body making you hazy. You didn't know how much longer you could let him tease you. He chuckled breathlessly at your impatience, leaning his forehead against yours. “I got you, baby.” You sighed in satisfaction when he hoisted you up, your back against the wall, his arms supporting you against the slippery surface. He reached down, teasingly rubbing the tip of his dick over your folds, tracing it over your clit a few times, making you whine, squeezing him the best you could with your legs around him.

He groaned, sliding into you. Your warm walls wrapped around him snuggly. Sucking him into your velvety walls, your pussy was a tight fit around his dick. He pumped you so full, your walls fluttered around his girth, thick tip slightly curved up from your position, pressing against your g-spot, the texture of your walls stimulating him perfectly. He rolled his hips in tight circles, slow fucking you, dragging his dick along your walls in a steady rythm. It was hard, not letting himself go and beating your walls loose, especially when you looked so good in his arms, sighing his name with every slow drag of his hips, your head falling on his shoulder, nipping at his neck no doubt marking him up. It was nothing short of heavenly, being right here with you now.

You melted into his arms, closing your eyes in bliss, your breathing picking up with his change of pace. All you could do was call out his name. Your hands searched for something to ground yourself with, pressure building at your core. It was overwhelmingly hot now in the bathroom, his warm body working against yours and the steam from the shower blinding you, making it hard to focus on anything besides the man in front of you. He rocked his hips into you, hitting against the spongy wall of your g-spot. His thrusts were consistent and well-aimed, soft grunts falling from his lips, eyebrows furrowing with effort.

You were crumbling beneath him, hushed curses escaping your lips, raking your nails down his back. The squelching sound of your wet pussy sucking him in was spurring him on, not letting up for a second. You felt yourself flutter around him, his thick dick stretching you open, dragging out moan after moan from your lips. It was sweet torture, the way his pelvis smacked against your ass with every thrust, barley even pulling out to roll back into you. The force of his movements makes you slowly slide down the wall, his arms struggling to hold you up against the slick surface.

“Hold on, baby” he pulled out of you, your legs turning to jelly when he set you down. He turned off the shower, sliding the shower door open. The bathroom was foggy, making it hard not to stumble on your way out and into the bedroom.

He eagerly laid you on the bed, crawling down in between your legs. He eased your knees apart, coming face to face with your pussy, your skin still damp. He happily sighed, languidly lapping up at your folds, sticky with the essence of your arousal. You felt your legs tense on his shoulders, Gojo spreading your thighs apart, holding them open as he tongued you down, burying his face into your pussy.

His lips slurped your clit up, softly sucking on the bud, flicking against it with his tongue. He hummed when your hands found his hair, running your fingers through the damp locs, shuddering when he pressed his nose against the skin of your mound, running his tongue over your folds, continuously coming back up to your clit. His eyes were closed, blissfully eating you out. You whined his name, rocking yourself against his tongue. He was taking his time with you, drinking in every last drop of your leaking arousal. The pressure in your core returned, your body tingling with pleasure.

He could feel you tensing into his mouth, now look up at you with half-lidded eyes. You gasped, feeling him latch his lips around your clit and suckling on it hard, humming against your pussy in satisfaction. Your muscles tightened, a low keen escaping you when you came, your legs closing around his head. He continued to suckle on your bud, flicking the tip of his tongue to grant you extra stimulation. It was like he was on auto-pilot, his lips never leaving your clit, your body convulsing under him, helplessly jerking into his mouth. After a few minutes the overstimulation was getting to be too much for you, weakly you pushed at his forehead, shying away from his mouth on your swollen heat.

He dragged his tongue up your slit one final time, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to your navel, your stomach rising and falling with the labor of your breaths. He propped himself up on his elbows, laying his weight on your body and gazing at you, watching you try and catch your breath.

“You alright, baby?” he asked, looking over your face, his eyes softening at you. You threaded your fingers through his hair, tousling it, smiling down at him, appreciating how handsome he looked when he was so disheveled, his eyes were still unfocused, his chin still glistened with the juices of your orgasm. It made you all the more needy, blood recirculating through your body, clit hardening once more, gazing at him through half lidded eyes. His fucked out look making warmth swell inside you. Your weeping pussy clenched around thin air, the room temperature making your clit all the more sensitive after your orgasm.

“I’m okay, toru.. I just need you right now.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss between the valley of your breasts, one hand coming up to softly knead your flesh, rolling his thumb over your nipple distractedly. “Is that right?” his eyes flitted back to your face, crawling up to be at eye level with you. He leaned forward to brush his lips against yours, hands coming down to spread your legs wider once more. “Yes, toru.. Please..” Your body was still hot from your most recent orgasm, the wetness between your thighs uncomfortably sticky, you could feel his hard length right below you, tip kissing the skin of your mound. “Please? Please what?” His voice was playful, almost teasing, his tone dropping down to a low murmur. You felt hot frustration bubbling up inside you, tired of his relentless teasing and prodding.

“Toru, just fuck me already, please” you pleaded, grabbing the back of his head and slamming his lips onto yours to convey your desperation. Gojo laughed into the kiss, pressing his lips harder against yours, tracing his tongue along your bottom lip. You pulled away, a thin string of saliva connecting you to him, your eyes half lidded, panting with the effort of holding yourself up.

He leaned back, kneeling between your legs for a second, admiring the sight of your sopping cunt in front of him. He almost wanted to lean down and have his fill of you again, to tease you a little longer. But the uncomfortable ache of his dick, that's been hard for much too long, and the look of pure, carnal lust in your eyes persuaded him against it. He hastily grabbed your thighs, dragging you down so that your ass was flush against his thighs, flushed, leaking tip pressed right up against your pussy lips, throbbing with need. He braced himself, pushing into you at an agonizingly slow pace, watching your pussy suck in every last inch he had to offer. Your wet, aching pussy engulfed him, your post orgasm sensitivity making your walls twitch around him. He stayed there for a second, leaning his head back, eyebrows slightly furrowed in bliss.

He allowed a low groan to fall from his lips, moving his hips slowly forward, your walls expanding, fluttering to welcome his girth. He closed his eyes, leaning over your body, folding you in half against his lean build. “I’ve deprived myself of you for so long, baby” he grunted, hips steadily increasing in rhythm, rocking into you, his thrusts well aimed and precise, beating against your g-spot with vigor.

His movements felt so intense, your sensitivity amplifying the sensations he made you feel. There was nothing but static clouding your head, you couldn’t focus on anything but him inside of you, filling you to the brim with dick. It was hard to pay attention to what he was saying, his voice nothing but a murmur to your ears.

“I know i told you to be patient, baby..” you wheezed at a particularly rough thrust, hand coming down to press against his lower stomach “T-toru- ah! Baby, s-slow down” you whimpered, head lolling back when he ground his hips into you, seeing stars in your vision from the white hot pleasure shooting up your spine. “I-i told you to wait for me” he continued, panting, staring at you with half-lidded eyes, working his length into you.

He was slowly losing his mind at the way your body reacted to him. The sounds of your pussy squelching only turning him on. “But i’m tired of waiting, baby.” he slapped your hand away, fucking into you at such a pace you felt like he was gonna split you in two. “You’re mine” he growled, burying himself deep, so deep his pelvis was pressed hard against the hilt of your mound, his fingers coming down to pinch and roll your neglected clit between his fingers, attaching his lips to your neck, biting and sucking his marks into you, solidifying his statement. “Oh my god- Saturo! Fuck, baby, s-s’good” you squealed, shutting your eyes tight, fists gripping the sheets so hard the cover sheet was starting to slip off the mattress. “I know baby, only i get to fuck you like this, you understand?” he grunted, losing himself in the way your walls massaged his length, nothing but pure bliss running through him. The headboard rocked with the force of his thrusts, stroking your walls with a harsh rhythm, the stimulation on your clit sending you into euphoria. “I said.. Do. you. Understand?” he snapped his hips with every word, glaring into your teary eyes. You gasped, nodding your head frantically, too fucked out to even use your words properly. “Y-yes toru-aagh” you spoke in babbles, feeling like you were floating, his fingers on your clit and his thrusts making your soul ascend from your body.

It was all too much at once, your mouth running dry as you came again, body jerking helplessly under Gojo’s weight. Your head is thrown all the way back, tears blurring your vision from the impact of your orgasm. He eased you through it, moaning into your neck as your walls repeatedly constrict and release along his length, a ring of creamy white collecting at his base. His thrusts significantly slowed down, careful not to overwhelm you while chasing his own release.

You felt him spill into you, the warm, running substance of his cum dribbling down your thighs when he pulled out of you. You felt winded, limply laying on the bed– the feeling in your legs long gone, your body exhausted. The bed shifted, Gojo leaving for the bathroom and returning with a small towel, wiping you and himself down, trying to stop the mess between your legs from soiling the sheets.

He flopped down next to you, bringing you into his chest as he always did, bringing the duvet over to cover you. The silence was comfortable, the two of you basking in the afterglow. You spent the rest of the night exchanging soft kisses and sweet words of affection to each other, enjoying your moment of peace together. For once you felt hopeful, no longer afraid to embrace him; and Gojo felt the same, holding you close with care, letting you doze off in his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

In the morning, despite your soreness he took you again, and again. In the kitchen, in the living room- in the shower, again. He was addicted to you, to your body. He couldn’t deny the warmth in his chest seeing you fast asleep in his bed, wearing his white button up, the thick duvet shielding you from his view. Yaga had blown your phones up multiple times, but neither of you really cared, enjoying each other’s company, exploring each other’s bodies.

It was then he decided, watching you snuggle up into his sheets, neck littered with bites and blooming bruises– that he would do anything, anything in the world to keep you. Even something as small as picking the phone up when you called.

taglist, requested by these lovely people(I hope you don't mind me tagging you again); @sharycatx3 @fatcatsfallingfromthesky @kalulakunundrum @elilovesall @laviefantasie

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#❥iloveboysinred #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #x reader

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jinwoosungs · 10 hours

Text

{ 175 }

heartbreak feels so good.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings: mentions of physical intimacy, but nothing too explicit.

{ we could cry a little, cry a lot | don't stop dancing, don't dare stop | we'll cry later or cry now | you know it's heartbreak | we could dance our tears away | emancipate ourselves | we'll cry later or cry now, but baby | heartbreak feels so good }

anonymous said: HELLO!! ⭐ anon here and I have an idea. I literally can't stop thinking about it. It's gonna make my brain hurt so I won't hide it any longer ☹️

GAHAHAHAHAHAHA imagine Jinwoo who had a one night stand with reader. It was like after a party and they decided to hook up for one night, but reader regretted it afterwards bc of how shameful she thought she was—like bravely being involved with the Sung Jinwoo in such field??? Also what—he agreed and looked smug too or was she mistaken???

Jinwoo already knew reader and had been eyeing her for a while but didn't say anything about it. Before he even woke up, she was already gone and he was instantly reminded of the night they spent together.

Pookie got awkward after that and started to avoid Jinwoo. Meanwhile, little did she know, he actually liked to observe reader from afar. He'd often find it cute when she'd take one step away from him sideways as the tip of her ears go red.

Idk man one day Jinwoo just said "fuck this let's go on a date" and then boom their relationship bloomed. I'm so into this trope 😭 no toxicity, just two people being awkward and slowly exploring their actual feelings for each other. I'm sorry if this is too long, but still, if you saw this, thank you for reading. I hope you have a good day! I just can't help but yap every single change I get. ♪⁠～⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

this had to be the biggest mistake of your life-

but truly, how could you have possibly even try to think straight when you had wanted nothing more than to just play pretend for one night? to actually feel like you were cherished and loved by someone who meant a lot to you?

the party you attended was, of course, thrown as a celebration for hunters and healers alike. the chairman had gone all out for everyone who had worked hard for the nation and wanted to give everyone a chance to de-stress and enjoy themselves.

from the fanciest bottles of champagne and wine that cost more than your salary to the perfectly catered food that seemed to suit everyone’s cravings and needs-

admittedly, you felt a bit out of your element.

the fact that so many people were here at this venue made you feel incredibly overwhelmed. in hopes of trying to maintain your sanity, you head over to the waiters and waitresses serving glass upon glass of expensive liquor, downing each of them while praying that the liquid courage would take effect and you could properly mingle with everyone else.

after downing just a few glasses of bubbly champagne, you could feel the heat against your cheeks coupled along with a slight tipsiness as the alcohol courses through your veins. yet, in the midst of your increasing drunken stupor, the strange sensation of being watched was what ultimately made you face him-

the tenth s-rank hunter, sung jinwoo.

he was leaning against the wall, tending to his own glass of red wine as his grey eyes remained rooted to your form. an almost mischievous grin was felt spreading across your lips, noticing how a certain blond hunter wasn’t latched on to him like a leech.

jinwoo is an incredibly fine specimen… i could work with this.

the alcohol in your system gave you the much needed courage to sidle up to him, your lips turned up in a smile as you casually smoothed out your dress. “hey hunter sung, funny seeing you here. you have always remained so elusive during gatherings like this.”

a look of pure amusement was shining within his grey eyes. “well, i figured it was time to change that, since it would be rude not to show up to at least one of the chairman’s events.”

you hum at his answer while sliding your hand up his dress shirt, earning a choked sound from him. “hm, you know, i was shocked to not see hunter cha clinging to you tonight. she’s the type that can never seem to leave you alone…”

“ah, w-well, she doesn’t always wish to hang out with me now that i’ve- wait, what are you doing?”

wow, his skin is so smooth… i can feel his muscles from beneath this flimsy dress shirt.

jinwoo’s breath hitches when your press the palm of your hand against his chest, purposely trailing your touches down to his abdomen as you leaned up to whisper in his ear. “the chairman said he rented out some floors of the hotel in case his guests got tired. shall i keep you company instead of cha hae-in tonight?”

you never got a chance to hear jinwoo’s answer or see his expression. simply grabbing a hold of his hand, you took the elevators to one of the booked floors, taking a card key from one of the hotel staff before shoving jinwoo into one of the rooms.

all you wanted was a chance to experience this type of intimacy with a man you respected and admired-

but you weren’t expecting jinwoo to be so gentle with you throughout it all.

you didn’t expect him to kiss every inch of your skin, filling you with so much pleasure that you became sensitive to his every touch.

you didn’t expect him to slowly make love to you, tangling your limbs together like he never wanted to let go of you.

and you certainly didn’t expect to experience such an intense release throughout your night together with jinwoo.

with the post lovemaking (and post champagne) quality kicking in just a few hours later, you awaken in the middle of the night with a start, feeling cold as the night air pricked at your skin, sending goosebumps down the length of your arms. your heart was a pounding mess as you ran a hand through your tangled hair.

recalling the ache felt between your legs, you look behind you to see jinwoo still sound asleep. he lay on his stomach, with the sheets just barely clinging on to his muscled back, making your mouth water in response.

your lips itched with the sudden desire to latch against his skin;

your whole body was screaming at you to just lay next to him and bask in his warmth;

but it was the more rational part of your mind that stopped you from acting on those irrational urges.

he’s going to wake up and regret sleeping with you.

with a purse of your lips, you allow your bare feet to touch at the carpeted floors. you slowly began to pick up the remnants of your undergarments while hastily putting them on along with your now wrinkled dress.

never once did you avert your gaze from jinwoo.

never once did he awaken to try and stop you from leaving.

it’s for the best.

giving the sleeping jinwoo one last look of yearning, you silently left the hotel room with every intention of never seeing the famous hunter ever again.

{ … }

to say you were embarrassed after that night would be the understatement of the century.

you had little clue as to truly how much time had passed, since your mind kept giving you flashbacks of how drunk and needy you were-

and also how caring jinwoo was when he willingly spent the night with you.

this embarrassment was what fuels you to continue avoiding jinwoo like a damn plague, with you taking on much lower leveled raids, raids that jinwoo wouldn’t pay the slightest attention to while slowly burying yourself with your duties.

you never sought to join any guilds and made it your life’s mission to stay far away from ahjin’s building, never once wishing to run into jinwoo.

in fact, you were perfectly fine with acting like your one night stand with him never happened at all.

however, unlucky for you, jinwoo himself didn’t seem to share that same sentiment.

{ … }

the moment you left him that night was the moment jinwoo had his first taste of true regret.

he felt so happy and excited when you approached him and invited him to spend the night with you. you never knew it, but jinwoo was achingly in love with you. he had hoped that with this chance, he could spoil you rotten with pleasure while taking great lengths to worship you; to love you like he had always wanted to.

when he could feel the pleasure washing over you with each and every stroke, jinwoo had gone a little crazy over you. the poor hunter had to bite down on his lips to prevent his words of utter love and devotion for you from spilling out.

but instead of choosing to tell you with words, he tells you with his actions alone.

yet still, it wasn’t enough to keep you by his side-

which was frustrating, to say the least.

jinwoo was no fool; he could tell that you were taking great lengths to avoid him. each time he would try to find you (whether it be during raids or just in general around the city) you would find ways to avoid ever meeting him by either switching out with another hunter / healer, or using the crowd to hide yourself away from him.

whenever this happens, jinwoo could only manage to let out an exasperated sigh in response. his hair would become a mess from the sheer amount of times he had run his fingers through them, trying to think of new ways to talk to you and finally confess.

throughout it all, jinwoo was left feeling a little listless, his mind always managing to go back to you…

by now, jinwoo had become desperate to finally have you.

while staring blankly at the ceiling of his office, jinwoo leans back against his chair while whispering your name.

if jinwoo couldn’t get to you by fair means, then he would have to start playing dirty, using his abilities as the shadow monarch to finally get through to you.

{ … }

so far, everything had been going according to plan on your end.

you had been successfully avoiding jinwoo for close to 4 months now, and when you were certain his lingering presence was no longer felt or seen within your periphery did you finally decide to head out for the night.

you were dying to get out of your apartment, wanting to try that new café or head to your go-to bookstore to read a new novel or two. yet your desire to always avoid jinwoo made you turn into a bit of a hermit (albeit unwillingly, but still.)

basking in the night air and the bustling sounds of seoul, you walked with a bit of a bounce in your step, thinking about your plans for the night. while you walked, you kept your gaze forward, and was caught off guard by the strangest phenomenon.

one minute, the sidewalk was free of any pedestrians, and the next, a man wearing an expensive looking coat appears just a mere inches away from you.

you recall letting out a gasp, hands already outreached to try and avoid face planting against the man’s broad back-

however, when he turns around was when you felt all of the air leave your lungs.

sung jinwoo was now facing you, his height still towering over you as his arms remained open, casually catching you within his embrace as your face landed against his chest. by now, your heart was pounding, making the blood rush to your ears as you began to feel dizzy.

“looks like i finally caught you.” a rich chuckle fills your ears when jinwoo places a lingering kiss against the top of your head, causing you to let out several sputters of his name.

“h-how did you-“

“did you forget who i am… and what i can do?”

his question successfully makes your heart skip beats, thinking back to the rumors that pertained to jinwoo and his ability to summon millions of shadow soldiers. along with this ability, you also knew that he could place many of those soldiers within anyone’s shadow while exchanging places with them on a whim.

“what? w-when did you manage to place your soldiers within my shadow?”

jinwoo hums, placing a hand beneath your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. “when you came up to me at the party and lead me back to the hotel room.” a sly smile paints his handsome features when he leans down to whisper against your ear, “but you have to understand, even before that night, i was already half in love with you. i couldn’t help it when you gave me such a perfect opportunity.”

his sudden confession nearly makes you fall to your knees, but jinwoo manages to catch you in time, wrapping his arms around your waist while holding you even closer to him.

“so tell me, my beloved treasure, why you were so dead set on avoiding me?” he meets your gaze then, eyes filled with a subtle look of pain. “do you know how much it hurt me, seeing you ignoring me so blatantly like that?”

your breathing comes out as uneven, with you avoiding his gaze as you played with the front of his shirt, “i’m sorry, i thought that night was the only way to experience that type of intimacy with you. i convinced myself that i was nothing to you… and i-“

you hear jinwoo let out a hiss of your name before crashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. it was enough to make you swallow your words as you moaned into his kiss, shyly kissing him back as jinwoo tightens his arms around you.

“shut up.” he manages to hoarsely say against your lips. “you drive me so fucking crazy all the time, but i still love you this much. never talk down about yourself in such a way ever again, because from this point on, you’re mine.”

you look into his eyes once more and see them burning a deep purple for you. there wasn’t a hint of a lie within the depths of his gaze, and the truth of his confession was finally beginning to sink into you.

“o-oh…”

your heart seemed to be beating a mile a minute now, racing so much that it overwhelmed you with its rapid palpitations.

letting out one last sigh of your name, jinwoo brings your head back into his chest, hugging you tightly. “when i’m done holding you like this, i’m going to take you out on a much needed date, and you are finally going to give us a chance. if you try to run again, just know that i will keep chasing you while chipping away at the walls you stubbornly built around your heart.”

you let out a tiny squeak, but couldn’t help but grin in response to his passionate words. “your plan is already working.” you murmur against his chest.

moving away from jinwoo, you look up at him with bright eyes all while giving him a genuine smile. “my heart is already yours, so-“

jinwoo interrupts you yet again, this time by picking you up and spinning you around in happy circles, hands clutched tightly against your sides when he brings you back down to him. nuzzling his nose against yours, you watch as a smirk paints his gorgeous features.

“it’s about damn time you finally admitted your feelings for me.”

and with yet another kiss shared beneath the city lights, you no longer felt the pangs of heartbreak filling your veins, feeling it slowly morph into the requited love you had always desired with your beloved sung jinwoo ♡

a.n. - and i’m so happy to finish this. this should be my 40th jinwoo oneshot, which is insane to think about 😭 currently unedited but, i hope you enjoyed this @ ⭐️ anon 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader

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idlerin · 14 hours

Text

love sick — 05. it’s all cliché and full of obvious red flags

romance 101; guideline #18 — before anything else, to love someone is to love yourself first.

the squeak of the ball hitting the ground and shoes sliding across the vinyl flooring were the sounds you heard as you spent the past hour or so watching grown men consistently smashing a ball. you were one to play your roles well but you did not find that much of an interest in sports in general. you understood why people enjoyed them but it never really became your “thing”. as you watch your quote-en-quote boyfriend on the court, you’re beginning to see the appeal.

you had eyes, it was no wonder why so many people fell for suna rintarou if you only consider his physical attributes from afar. maybe it was his gaze? It was the kind that lures you in, he doesn’t look particularly interested most of the time, perhaps that was why people get a kick when he reacts differently. people have their preferences so you wouldn’t put it past them to be attracted to suna’s kind, those who make you want to learn more about them because of how reserved they are.

you look at your phone to check the time, it is 1:30 pm, their practice was supposed to end early. “early” because they began at around 6 in the morning, you could never even imagine running in the morning.

you sighed, it wasn’t like being in the gymnasium was that bad. your friends, atsumu and kageyama were here too since they were part of the team but other than that you were a total loner. sure, there are some other people here with business you don’t know of and some just there to watch and you could probably approach one of them to get some company… but that meant you had to further the conversation, you usually do have a lot of things to say but that’s exactly the problem.

your mind wanders to a conversation you had with a person the other day instead, their name was… hayami? yeah, it was hayami. she wanted to approach you about this certain situation she was in. her friend of four years confessed to her and she didn’t know what to do because she didn’t know if she liked him back in that way. throughout the years she’s had several “what-ifs” about liking this friend but it was never really a strong emotion. now that he’s confessed to her, she doesn’t know how to properly respond and she ended up running away from him. she's afraid he thinks she hates him now.

the first thing you told her was that it was okay to feel confused because she didn’t have to name a proper emotion for it right now, being “sure” of liking someone can take time. you advised her to tell him that she needs time to think first so he isn’t left hanging and that whatever she decides what to do, he should be able to understand. hayami voiced out her worries that she didn’t want to hurt his feelings because of how much she treasured their friendship. you replied by stating that not saying and telling what she meant from the beginning could hurt her and him more in the long run.

“head in the clouds?” a voice you’ve recently become used to reach your ears. you jerk your head back only to see suna in front of you, a towel slung over his shoulder.

“are you done?” your shoulders resigned from the previous bit of shock at his presence, you really were too lost in your thoughts.

“yeah, i’ll just get some things from the changing room,” he said, you nodded while your eyes drifted behind him. atsumu was wiggling his eyebrows at you and you resisted the urge to grimace.

“i’ll go with you,” you exclaim, sick and tired of sitting on the bench.

“didn’t know [name] the sweetheart was such a perv,” suna raised a brow at you.

“excuse you?” you asked, confused.

“i’m going to change,” suna deadpanned, “if you wanted to watch i’d let you.”

you shook your head, at a loss for words for once in your life, “that was obviously not what i meant, but i’ve already had my hands on you, right?” you smile, recalling yesterday when you bombarded him with a hug acting like a girlfriend who missed her boyfriend very very much. your mind was then brought back to your cupcakes which were unapologetically ruined, you mourn your hours of hard work, “so what’s a little sight-seeing?” you continue to tease, standing up.

now you’ve made him speechless, he thought he could win? hah not as long as you still have your wits about you.

“nice to know you think i’m such a view, i’d assume you enjoyed yourself for the past few hours then?” suna started walking before you could retort, you were left to follow him with a small smile on your face due to amusement.

on your way to the lockers, you saw kageyama still practicing, he really could not catch a break, wasn’t practice over? meanwhile, atsumu was making grand gestures towards you and suna, and you wished you had something to throw at him. unfortunately for you and fortunate for him, you only brought your phone out with you today (you had no classes, okay, you initially planned to catch up on some reading today, ann liang’s this time it’s real—which was coincidentally about fake dating as well—was waiting for you at home).

“hey, what were you going to give me today?” you finally ask, you didn’t get to properly talk about it with him since he was busy training. you were leaning on the wall next to the entrance of their changing rooms, he was the only one in there so it was fine to act casual.

it took a minute or two before suna finally came out, duffel bag over his shoulder where the towel once was and cloth scrunched in his hands. said cloth was then tossed to you, you almost dropped it since your reflexes aren’t that quick.

“my extra jersey, wear it on the game this sat,” suna said casually as he watched you hold his jersey up, the number 7 plastered on it, the name suna on the back. how many times have you read and watched main characters in books and films cheer for their significant other while wearing their jerseys? now you are going to partake in that sports romance trope, how funny reality can be!

“oh is that all? what else do we do for today?” your head tilts to the side.

“i heard there’s an event in the campus grounds today, i was thinking we could go there since there would be a lot of people,” suna urged you to start walking and follow him with a simple nudge of his head.

“alright, i’ll warn you now though i didn’t bring any money,” you said with a skip in your step, still clutching the shirt since you don’t have anywhere to leave it in, “can you put this in your bag first, though?”

“who said you were paying?” he said casually while taking his jersey and placing it in his bag for a second.

you froze for a moment, “could you stop acting like a k-drama male lead?”

this made suna chuckle, he chuckled, you don’t think you’ve even seen the man smile, “you caught on quickly, huh? osamu’s been recommending me shows so that i could ‘learn by example’ whatever that means.”

right, you keep forgetting the suna is in the same friend group as atsumu and his brother, you know there’s this other guy in the group too named omiomi something? atsumu wouldn’t shut up about him. you’ve met osamu briefly before but you wouldn’t say that you were properly acquainted with him, you do see him a lot on campus because you get startled by how much him and atsumu look alike.

“i’m a matchmaker, i’m clearly well-versed in all forms of romantic media,” you say in a ‘duh’ tone.

“you can carry us then, acting romantic isn’t for me,” suna shrugged.

“no, you have to do your part,” you insist, as you step out of the gymnasium.

“what you want me to hold your hand or something?”

“that would be a good start,” you say, holding your hand out to him. he stares at it as if it’s some unknown species, and then he wordlessly extends his hand to intertwine with yours.

masterlist — previous | next

❥ fun facts !

it was only recently that [name] got addicted to strawberry flavored drinks.

semi has gigs weekly that [name] always goes to watch.

atsumu once during april fools convinced osamu to wear matching clothes from head to toe and wear matching caps to see how many people would confuse them for each other.

love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

a/n — gotta love a man that insults you (just kidding, suna rintarou is the exception).

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eretzyisrael · 3 days

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by Bari Weiss

There was not a single conversation that I had in the week I spent in Israel where the person did not say a version of the following: There was an October 6 version of me and an October 7 version of me. I am forever changed. I am a different person.

And that is another sense in which the story of the ancient Roman requires modification. The binary of war and peace, the pastoral and the military, is a retrospective luxury of powerful nations or empires. A small democracy, whose very existence is contested by populous autocracies, does not have the privilege, as Cincinnatus did, of going from the field of battle to the field to till. Israel’s citizen-soldiers are scientists, artists, and farmers, just as they are mothers and fathers, husbands and wives. Israeli citizens, whether they serve or not, are not—as one Hamas leader said of Gazans—someone else’s problem.

“It’s like after you knock your finger with a hammer, you don’t feel anything for a while,” the journalist Gadi Taub said, describing what Israelis have gone through since Hamas’s invasion. “People haven’t begun to understand the extent of this earthquake and how it will change Israel. The tectonic plates have moved, and nothing in the system has yet absorbed or changed to accommodate what happened.”

The public intellectual and Bible scholar Micah Goodman told me in Jerusalem that the country went through a collective near-death experience. Imagine an entire society that, between sunrise and sunset, peered together into the abyss. “For the first time in our lives, we had a moment where we could imagine that the whole thing was over. That the whole thing ended. You know how when individuals have a near-death experience, they’re transformed. Because they learned that life should not be trivialized. As a country, we had a near-death experience, and now we’re transformed because we know that Jewish sovereignty should not be taken for granted. It can’t be trivialized.”

Israel’s founding fathers and mothers, having known a period when Jews didn’t have a state—a period in which six million Jews were murdered—understood the difference between statelessness and sovereignty in their bones. The paradox of their extraordinary achievement is that modern Israelis, who might appreciate the distinction intellectually, could dismiss the dread alternative even when presented with visible evidence of a fragility they consigned to the past. Or at least they could until October 7. On that day, the thought exercise became real.

If Israel, in other words, is currently fighting a second war of independence—an existential war necessary for the survival of the state, as everyone here believes—then the young men and women of this country are more than soldiers. They are latter-day Ben-Gurions. They are a new generation of founders. Indeed, as Gadi Taub told me in Tel Aviv, one of the slogans of this war is lo noflim midor tachach! Which loosely translates to do not fall short of the ’48 generation.

#cincinnatus #israel #hamas #gaza #october 7

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foreverisntenough · 18 hours

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‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, self doubt, body image, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 12 - Mwah | ‘Ours’

You were thrilled when you found out Liverpool’s preseason was going to be in the US this summer. You practically screamed when Trent told you. You were so excited to have an excuse to go back to New York. You’d get to see your family, you’d get to tote Teddy around back where you grew up. It was just a perk this trip would happen to coincide with his work. It would be amazing to have your parents around Teddy for a bit as well.

Before preseason officially kicked off leaning into the end of July, early August, you spent the weekend out at your parents house out in Montauk, New York. You and Trent were really happy you’d get one last bit of time together before the season began. Being back at your parents place made you miss it a little. Home was England now. Home was wherever life took you with Trent and Teddy but a small piece of you still missed this place. The big open beach that had a different scent than the ones in the UK, the way the sun shone a little brighter, a little warmer on the horizon. Any case, you were glad you at least got this weekend to spend with your whole family and show Teddy the place you spent too many summers.

“Mmm C’mere baby.” Trent hummed pulling you into him in the bed you were sharing. It was funny staying in your childhood bedroom with him. Okay, it wasn’t really your actual bedroom it was your bedroom at your beach house but regardless he liked being able to get to know you a little more through it. Trent liked to explore what you had kept hidden in your desk drawers, finding little niche things that made you you, made this your space. It was nice but it was also practically being rubbed in your face you were at your parents home and not your own so you felt like you had to behave. Trent’s family was definitely more relaxed. Chill, if you will. They had rules of course, no messing about, but it was still a family of boys, whereas obviously you were a house of two girls growing up in Manhattan. Dianne sometimes would tease you saying she’s glad she got you as her daughter later in life. She wouldn’t have been able to handle it. Boys were easier. Her boy currently wanted to be easy for you.

“T” you sheepishly giggled. “We can’t. My parents are literally right downstairs.” You whispered as if you were 16 and you had snuck him in without them knowing.

“They’re watching a film. You’re in bed with me so why are you worried about them? Worry about me and taking these clothes off for me.” He cooed as he dragged the strap of your silk tank top off your shoulder. You felt a shiver run down your spine in the best way.

“T! Please.” You let out a harder laugh amused by his advances. You pressed your palm against his chest pushing him away from you slightly.

"Mmnnmm.” he hummed dismissing your rejection. He was obsessed with this moment. The dark room only lit by the moon out over the ocean seeping in through the window. Your soft skin against his, the feeling of drowning himself in your scent. You were going to have to really convince him this was a bad idea to get him to stop. “Don’t be so scared, baby. Give me one kiss and then decide.” He cooed, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. His eyes fell into the pleading puppy dog look you couldn’t say no to. He kissed you and you moaned into his mouth almost immediately loving the feeling of his lips on yours and the sensations running through you from the second they connected. You pushed your hips greedily into his.

“Okay, okay. You win.” You sighed into him. You dropped your hands over his shoulders and bent your elbows back to drape your hands to come grip his hair. You pulled him into you for a deeper kiss. You gasped a little as he pulled your top further down exposing more of you.

“You’re perfect, baby.” He flicked his eyes between yours, your lips, and your tits indecisively. He couldn’t decide where to fixate first. You let out a desperate moan when he finally landed on your tits brushing his thumbs over your nipples. “Shhhh. You need to be quiet. Yeah?” Trent hushed you when he heard the creek of someone walking up the stairs. You giggled, not interested in his request, too caught up in what he had started and proceeded to pull at the waistband of his boxers.

“Y/N… are you awake?” You heard a voice from behind your closed bedroom door. Trent pulled your top back over your chest to your displeasure. He got out of the bed abruptly and pried the door open. You were surprised he went so quickly but you watched as he leaned on to the door frame. His back muscles looked stupidly sexy. Winnie was behind the door. “Not Y/N” She laughed a little seeing Trent answer opposed to you and then a little more when she assessed both of your states. You were wide eyed and Trent was impatient with her wanting to get back to you.

“No, not Y/N.” Trent confirmed he was in fact not you. They conversed longer than you thought they would Trent, biting at Winnie’s proposal if you wanted to go to the beach tomorrow so they discussed plans at length before he returned.

“Let me take this beautiful baby girl. Should we make you a big breakfast?” Your mum was quick to pluck Teddy out of your arms. You had woken up early in the morning and carried her downstairs. You loved that she connected so well with her but it also confused you in a way. Watching her be so maternal, so nurturing and careful, none of the things she was with you. As your mum watched Teddy, you hopped upstairs and dragged Trent out of bed. It was obscenely early but you were running on borrowed time. His season began in a matter of days and you wanted to spend time with him. You put on a jumper of his and a tiny pair of shorts and insisted he went for a walk on the beach with you. Your house was on the coast next to a resort you remember not remembering so many nights spent there growing up, sneaking drinks with your friends. It was funny you and Trent had sort of the opposite trajectories. You were carefree and relaxed when you were young and now grew to be more rigid and organized. Trent was the reverse, now calm and easy going but grew up diligent and committed.

“I had my first kiss there.” You laughed strolling on the shoreline, recalling a boy you think was shorter than you force his tongue down your throat behind a cabana. You filled Trent in on that tidbit of your life pointing in the general direction of the scene of the crime.

“Don’t tell me that!” Trent scolded you looking at you like you were crazy. He could believe you just told him that. You’ve had this conversation once before and only once. He wanted to know everything but just once.

“Trust me I’ll remember what you tell me.” he confided in you that there wasn’t a shot in hell he’d forget the names of the people you were about to rattle off who had touched you, gotten to be with you.

“This is dumb! You have to tell me then as well.” You asked not wanting to expose only yourself. Telling a partner about previous relationships was always a tricky situation. You had to know. It wasn’t like you had met as virgins but you were adults. You had to be honest, you wanted to be honest with each other it just was scary.

“You really want to know?” He asked interested in your answer but slightly falling into a feeling of anxiety about having to tell you. Trent was… well he was a young footballer on a big stage to say women flocked to him was understatement. It was something you were definitely aware of and made you nervous but at the same time the thoughts of telling him about the unmentionables you’d done with stupid mistakes like Chase was not exciting.

“No, not at all. I guess I should though.” You looked him dead in the eyes and he regretted starting the conversation. He didn’t feel as strong as he usually did around you. He felt weak like you had the power all of a sudden.

“I was 15, relax!” You laughed pinching at his side. He gripped your wrist fast. He was so agile it caught you off guard.

“Don’t tell me that either! You have never kissed anyone but me.” He teased and pulled your body into his. His eyes narrowed looking at you seriously. You ran your palms over his chest draping them behind his neck scratching his scalp gently. You could feel him relax under your touch yet simultaneously go stiff trying not to get too turned on in public.

“Whatever you say” you pressed your lips to his. He hummed at the taste of your kiss. Trent secretly, or not so secretly because he’d told you before but, really liked knowing you had some sort of wild side, maybe daring. You’d commit to things. Him being one of those things. You spent 5 days straight with him right after you met. It was all very instinctual. You just grew up completely differently and yet you fit perfectly together and he loved that about you. He remembered on your first date being slightly bothered that he couldn't open wikipedia and read more about you. He wanted to know you intimately. He wanted you to read him a biography about your life, the sound of your accent hitting against his ears all night.

“Ran from the police once here too.” You giggled and his face contorted, shocked at your admission. There were still bits and bobs of information you didn’t know about each other, of course. You could never truly know everything but you had gotten close to that. Trent definitely didn’t know this piece of information though. You broke out of his gentle hold. “Didn’t catch me though.” You yelled, beginning to run away from him down the empty beach. He chased after you as you ran

“Come back here. Think you were really gonna be faster than me?” He caught you quickly grabbing onto your arm. You stumbled a little not able to catch your balance on the shifting sand and his hold dragging you backwards.

“I am faster than you!” You giggled out of breath falling into the sand pulling him down with you.

“You’re not but I love you despite your flaws” he teased, pinning your arms down to your side. Your heart faltered a little at his aggression. There were moments with Trent when he was unintentionally very sexy. He’d forget how strong he was, how weak you were in comparison.

“My flaws! What happened to ‘you’re perfect baby?” You asked breathing heavily beneath him, widening your eyes mocking his accented words. He hovered over you. He looked perfect as the morning sun rose up over the horizon reflecting onto the water and splashing onto his golden skin.

“You are perfect.” He kissed you. “You’re beautiful.” He kissed you again “You’re not very fast” he kissed you with a slight laugh and your lips curled into a smile as you shook your head at him. “And you’re all mine.” You let him rest his body weight on you, pressing you into the sand. You squirmed a little beneath him as he persistently smothered you with kisses all over your face

“I love you so much, T.” You cooed sincerely. Meaning each word that fell out of your mouth.

“I love you. You've changed my whole life.” He whispered, moving his lips only millimeters away from yours.

“You are my whole life, baby.” You took a deep breath feeling his big hands on your hips push up the bottom of your his jumper. He dragged it up over you until he could see the bottom of your lacey bra peeking out. He kissed up your stomach, slow, dedicated, but also almost harsh. What he left behind were the signs of him, shiny spots caused by his warm spit. It was weird as you felt a memory of your first night together come rushing back. Like you were transported onto the hotel bed of the room you were in at The Plaza. You remember the feeling of his foreign lips on you, the ones you knew so well now like it was yesterday.

“God, please” he moaned. This wasn’t even directed at you, he just wanted some higher power to let him have you. You didn’t smile at him. Tears fell over your waterline. Your heart broke at the rant. He looked panicked. He looked distraught over how he felt. You wiped at your face before he took over slowly catching any tears.

“I didn’t really anticipate making you cry in bed. Not this way at least” you slapped at him gently, a smile starting to form. “Please” he softly begged you. You nodded wholeheartedly.

You should’ve known you’d fall for him then and there. You cried on your first date. Normally, you would’ve been mortified if that had happened and yet with a new stranger you felt completely safe. You wouldn't even call it a first date. It was like 7 in a row; dinner, the bar, the cab ride, the bedroom, the club, then the bedroom again. You laughed thinking how insane it was that he really did mean what he said, that he knew what he wanted, how certain he had been. You laughed recalling it all in grave detail.

“What are you giggling about, huh?" He interrupted your reverie. You looked up at the cheeky smirk appearing on his face as he watched you try to compose yourself under him. You pushed him away playfully trying to get out of the emotions that were crashing over you right now. It was too early to be that sentimental.

“I think we should get married here. What do you think?” He asked laying down next to you in the sand. He rested his head on your chest and slid his hand down to hold yours.

“Yeah… I think I’d fancy that. When?.” You asked him with a smile, liking the idea a lot. It hadn't really registered or settled in yet that you actually were going to get married, you’d have a wedding, so the exact location or date of it definitely hadn’t been thought about too much.

“Whenever you want. I’ll be there waiting.” You pouted at him. How did this stuff come out of his mouth? It was like he had it all rehearsed, like you were in a simulation being played and you loved every second of it. You laid there for a little longer before he pulled you up. “I am marrying a felon. Who knew?” he laughed.

“No. I told you, they didn’t catch me, remember?” You giggled in response but you fell into a comfortable silence after.

“What for…?” Trent asked and stopped walking, needing to know more. Needing to read the passage of your Wikipedia that broke down a run in with the law.

“It was stupid. Someone had thrown a party, there was underage drinking and a lady called the cops. I didn’t want my parents to know I was out so I took off.” you shrugged. His brow furrowed confused. “It’s really not a big deal here, honest. It's common, I think?” You tried to rationalize with him. He was quiet for way too long racking his brain. It’s not like he didn’t have fun growing up or have a drink before he was 18 but the police felt… intense. “You’re making me feel bad now!” you quipped.

“Well, you ran from the police!” he laughed, letting go of your hand and draping his arm around you.

“Oh well, not all of us are beloved local lads the police would let go are we?” You teased him. He knew what you were referring to. Trent would be lying if who he was hadn’t gotten him out of trouble. He told you about a few times where he had been pulled over driving by the police but they let him go after he simply took a selfie with them. His jaw slacked offended you’d bring that up. You nuzzled your face into his arm starting to feel almost dizzy by the whole conversation. “Do you still love me?” you sheepishly whimpered.

“What?” he shook his head at you confused laughing. “Obviously. What are you on about? I just asked a question. Of course, I love you.” he quipped before he abruptly grabbed your face with one hand. He pushed your cheeks together, pursing your lips for you. He smashed a wet kiss against them. You pulled away with a shy smile. His stare blank. “Got it?” he asked seriously.

“Got it. Jeez!” you laughed, wiping your mouth of some of the wetness that remained. He just rolled his eyes as you walked back inside the house.

You got ready to go to the beach later on in the early afternoon actually in bathing suits this time with Teddy and Winnie. Your sister sat on a towel and complained to you about how stupid some boy was dming her that Lauren was trying to set her up with. You lazily lounged on Trent while Teddy sat on his chest. He haphazardly held her. She occasionally would just topple over onto him still working on her balance but eventually she was definitely doing it on purpose, loving squishing her face against Trent’s warm skin, hearing his laugh, his chest vibrate and heart beat as his big hands kept her secure on top of him.

“You can never DM anyone, alright?” Trent cooed at Teddy, resituating her up right as she giggled, before falling again wanting to continue her game with him.

“DM all you want, Ted!” Winnie rebutted Trent’s rules. She gave him a smug smile he was annoyed at.

“Go on Ted!” You just spurred her on. Teddy squealed, hearing her name getting exciting. Her little hands grabbing eagerly at Trent’s face for a kiss. She had recently learned how to purse her lips, coming to understand that it would result in a kiss for her. She loved it. She loved the attention, she loved the sound, a giggle following every single one. Trent kissed her identical pout.

“Can mummy have one, please?” You asked her for a kiss, envious of the one she gave him. You squeezed her arm gently to grab her attention. You pushed your lips out towards her. “Mwah!” You made the sound she couldn’t get enough of. She laughed and wiggled trying to get to you. You dragged her off Trent’s chest into your own. She nuzzled her face into you comforted by every little thing. The way you smelt, the way your skin felt, your familiar heart beat. She calmed as you kissed her head. “My Teddy bear.” You squeezed her a little tighter to you. Trent pinched your arm to remind you of this moment that you definitely did know how to make her very happy.

“She’s happy right?” Speaking of a daughter's happiness, your mum asked your dad back at the house looking on, able to see your little family from afar as they sat by the pool.

“She’s never been better. He takes care of her.” Your dad reassured her watching you kiss Teddy laying on Trent.

“I’m surprised you took such a liking to him. If he wasn’t on the team you support would you’ve?” Your mum teasingly asked your dad. It was a joke but she was also a little curious as well for his answer.

“Don’t be silly, I genuinely think he’s a good kid. Good head on his shoulders, good family, good values.” You dad reaffirmed his stance that Trent was good for you. “Could be different though if he played in Manchester but...” Your mum ignored his dig at other teams, keeping her focus on you.

“They’re good with her.” Your mum admired you and Trent playing with Teddy. “I just want her to be happy. It felt like she never was when she was here.” She remembered life before you moved, before you met Trent.

“She was… she just needed to find her place. Her person. We all eventually find our way to them.” Your dad cooed, squeezing your mum’s hand from his lounge chair.

You came back to the house as the evening sun sank down. Winnie running with Teddy back to the house in a fit of giggles in her arms. You trailed slowly with Trent holding his hand inspecting his newly tanned golden skin. You shuffled up the steps and turned on a spout to wash the sand off your feet. Trent turned on the water inside of the outdoor shower next to it.

“C’mere” he dragged you in after him. “You look so good today.” He purred beneath your ear. His plump plush lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Yeah? I thought I caught you staring” you turned away from him pushing your ass against him. His hands drifting around you slowly one gradually come to paw at your boobs. You shut your eyes in pleasure. You rolled your head back onto his shoulder.

"Nah, me staring at you. Never." His dark, brown eyes bore up into your closed ones and you breathed in heavily feeling his hands glide over your skin. His free hand ran down your side sliding under the tie of your bikini on your hip. It was subtle yet it had your heart racing. Watching his fingers run over your body as the water cascaded down with them felt pornographic. He moved his hand from your tits up to cupped your jaw. He tilted your head awkwardly and harshly to look at him. It made you gasp a little as he pushed his hips into you further. You could feel his hardening cock. You flashed your eyes at him and it only got harder. Your lust filled gaze sent sinful thoughts barrelling through his mind.

“Y/N L/N! That boy is not your husband yet. I better not be seeing two sets of feet in that shower.” Your mum yelled out clocking that you two had come back to the house, were nowhere to be seen, and the shower was on with two familiar pairs of feet in it. All thoughts were halted the moment you both heard her voice.

“Sorry” you sheepishly apologized strangely embarrassed by her call out. You kissed his lips, peeling your body off his. Your mum was ‘old school’ in an ironic way. Like she picked and chose when she wanted to implement those values.

“Nah, I have you for the rest of my life. Not worried.” He whispered before one final kiss.

“Mum, they have a baby…” Winnie laughed carrying a pitcher of margaritas out onto the deck with one hand, Teddy in the other before passing her off to your dad.

“They can have 10 babies, Win. We still don’t want to know it’s happening” your dad chimed in situating Teddy on his knee as she smiled oblivious to the nature of the conversation about her parents. You timidly got out of the shower pulling Trent behind you. He held your hands behind your back and rested his head in between your shoulder blades childishly hiding from your parents. “Trent, my boy, I love you but keep your hands to yourself.” Your dad quipped and you wanted to die. Trent held his hands up in innocence taking a step away from you. It wasn’t the first time Trent had encountered a protective dad but it was different with you. He had good banter with your dad but really respected him and listened to what he was asking because he respected you. “I want that signed license before I’m holding another one of these.” He voiced in a serious manner asking for the marriage certificate before you had a second baby. You couldn’t quite tell if it was laced with any humor as you watched him kiss Teddy referring to her as ‘one of these’ loving every second of her. You grabbed Trents lips and pulled him into a kiss. Your hands cupped his cheeks. His lips were warm and soft. A shock of electricity ran through you being so bold to kiss Trent in front of your family. Your parents groaned. Trent held his hands up again not touching you reinforcing this wasn’t his move.

“Oh Y/N, really?” your mum quipped. Winnie booed. You giggled and shrugged then went to pick up your baby girl.

“You introduced me to him. Your own fault. ‘Oh you’d like him.” You mocked the words your dad once told you whilst watching a Liverpool match pointing out Trent to you on the TV.

“And I appreciate it.” Trent said, running a towel over his tanned skin. He dried himself off before he wrapped the semi damp towel around you and Teddy. Winnie took a photo of your bundled family engulfed in his arms and terry cloth on her film camera.

“Win, I want that one. Send me it when you develop them.” Trent asked after hearing the shutter go off. The sun went down, drinks were poured, and the fairy lights illuminated your dinner table. “They taste different here, swear.” Trent explained to Winnie that he genuinely believed burgers taste different in New York. She wasn’t sold on his rationale so they rambled on back and forth debating the unimportance. You caught Trent smiling at you though mid sentence as he watched you scarf down your food relieved you were eating. He winked at you and you had to put your head down you felt so flustered.

“Any plans about the wedding yet?” You mum asked eagerly. It was driving her nuts you hadn’t begun making any concrete plans.

“Think this morning we decided we should maybe do it here” you cooed to no one in particular at the table but then looked at Trent to confirm the decision. You mum sat up a bit straighter and began to rant to you about contacting all these events planners and contacts she had in the area.

You and Winnie exchanged your typical look, the one exchanged your whole life. The ‘mum is fucking nuts.’ one, you knew well. You wrapped up dinner and you put Teddy down for sleep. You were sitting on the couch watching a film with Winnie. You were cuddled up into Trent when you got distracted watching the veins of his hands move as he rubbed over your skin. Your heart started beating faster as you tried to reclaim your focus but you couldn't. He was the only thing on your mind now. He caught your quick side eyed glance towards him before you attempted to follow the movie again. With the hand he was stroking you with he squeezed you. It took you by surprise because he did nothing else, didn’t even acknowledge you or look but it set something off. You wanted him to pay attention to you. Sometimes with him you’d get a feeling like you were just meeting again. Like you wanted to impress him, get him to like you all over again, make him want you.

“Do you really have to leave tomorrow?”. You whispered in his ear before you dropped your head into the nape of his neck, your lips gliding down his neck.

“Mmmhmm” he hummed as he rolled his head to the side to give you more space to run your soft lips over. He closed his eyes, lost in the moment, losing all hope at following the plot of the movie anymore.

“Are you sure?” You gently pushed his t-shirt up with your palm and slid your hand across his abs. The feeling of your lips on his neck and your nails dragging across his skin dangerously close to the band of his shorts had his heart rate speeding up.

“I’m not so sure right now.” He quietly told you. He took control of the situation quickly just the way you wanted him to. He turned his whole body towards you completely ignoring the movie and the fact that your sister was about a yard away. “I’m not sure I can leave this mug of yours.” His eyes narrowed and scanned over your features. He flashed a devastating smile watching you trying to suppress the smirk blossoming on your face.

“Can you guys not… I get it, you're engaged. I am single.” Winnie stood up annoyed. You giggled hiding in Trent’s neck, embarrassed almost forgetting she was in the room.

“Oh, Win! I’m sorry! Finish the film with us” you called out to her as she stormed off in a huff before stopping in her tracks.

“No, no, I’ll leave you to it! Also,” she flashed her glare from you to Trent. His eyes widened, surprised she was mad at him and he was being included in the sisterly spat. “You give Lauren fucking Jude Bellingham… and me, nothing. Jude Bellingham.” she threw her hands at him.

“I don’t think I exactly gave Jude to her, did I?” he quipped back and she feigned a face as if she was less than impressed. She started to laugh though unable to hide a silly smile on her face trying to commit to her theatrics. This was quintessential Winnie. She thought this was very funny. Trent knew her well but not the way you did, of course. Not the years of her creating these situations out of thin air. For Winnie, taking a bit or a tease too far was a thrill. She loved to overreact just to grab people's attention only to drop it with a giggle. It was a bizarre yet endearing power trip.

“Winnie!” You yelped her name before falling into giggles yourself at how ridiculous her claim was, very aware this was one of her ‘performances.’

“There’s 26 players on a team and you’re on two! Club and Country” she gestured to two different spaces in front of her with her hands spelling it out for Trent. “I’m only asking for one man.” She rolled her eyes at the stunned look on his face. She walked out of the room.

“I can’t tell if she was serious or not… Am I meant to set her up?” He said to you louder than he thought he did. Winnie’s voice echoing a ‘yes’ that made its way back to the living room where you were as she made her way down the halls away from you.

“You asked if I had to leave…you gonna miss me, baby?” Trent asked, a few minutes later, gently grabbing your jaw. The way his eyes looked into yours made you feel special. Made you feel love and then lust.

“Yeah, T. WIll miss you and this cock” you boldly stated. Your words drenched in neediness as you leaned forward to slide your hand over the bulge that had been tenting in his shorts.

“Mmm yeah? Show me then” He instructed you and your eyes lit up with greed. This was a terrible idea. Your dad would murder both of you, your mum would have a heart attack, Winnie might vomit but he looked so good and you were going to miss him… and his cock… for the 5 days you were about to be apart.

“Can you be quiet for me, baby?” you asked with feigned innocence in your eyes as you lowered yourself toward his length.

“I’ll be good.” He stroked over your cheek as he watched you lick the tip of his cock. He let out a moan, feeling your tongue graze over the slit leaking pre cum. Your eyes widened looking up at him annoyed because he literally just said he’d be quiet.

“Sorry, sorry. Start again. I’ll be good. I promise.” He tried to convince you. You ran your hands up his strong thighs as you licked his length from base to tip, not totally convinced by his promise but you didn’t care now that you had a taste. Desperate for more of him. Desperate to make him feel good. “Such a pretty girl, yeah?" He praised you in a whisper as you flashed your glossy eyes up to him. All you wanted was for him to tell you how good you were for him. He breathed deeply watching you trying not to make a sound. He didn’t do a great job but at least his words of encouragement were whispered. “That’s so good, baby, fuck. Keep going.” he quietly groaned. He tucked wisps of your hair behind your ear stopping your constant need to move your hair away from your sticky lips. He threw his head back against the couch cushion in pleasure at your movements. He ran his hand over his hair. The air had gone thick in the room. It was hard to breathe all of a sudden for both of you for different reasons. “Baby” he grunted at a normal volume warning you he was going to cum. He unraveled quickly to your delight. You clasped your hands around the backs of his knees, slacking your jaw just that much more for him to take all of him sucking in your cheeks as he released.

“Good?” you giggled after you swallowed, pulling yourself up using his thighs. He nodded out of breath. Eyes closed and head resting back onto the couch coming back to reality slowly. You climbed up on him and straddled over him. You slid off your shorts and to Trent’s surprise you weren’t even in panties. He just blew air out of his mouth amazed by your figure over him. Your tiny white baby tee clearly worn without a bra, nipples very out, and your pussy on full display for him to admire.

"You wet for me?" He asked and you nodded. You got wet just sucking him off and he knew that. He ran his fingers through your slick folds.

“Tell me what you want me to do, T” you whined, getting desperate for more. He was teasing you, giving you enough to lose your composure but not getting close to your entrance or clit.

“You’re gonna take my cock.” He demanded and you smirked and he began peppering kisses over your jawline. “and you’re gonna take my cum.” You aligned yourself with his already rehardened length. You sank down slowly not having his usual help preparing you for his size. You let out a whimper feeling the leaking tip of his cock burying himself inside your pussy. He began languid but purposeful thrusts up into you. He immediately felt you clench tigh around him as your jaw slacked and your brows pinched adjusting to his length. “So good f’me always.” he stoked your cheek with his thumb while his other hand held your helping you move on top of him.

“Please, T, I want to make you feel good. I want to be good for you.” Your words went straight to his cock. He smiled. Even in bed you were always well mannered. He loved when you begged for what you wanted. You liked T being in charge in the bedroom. You were politely submissive. You both were mindful you had to be quiet though so your words were hushed but they were potent. You both wanted to be good for the other. It was apparent with every deep upwards thrust of his and every merciless roll of your hips. It was all so needy and desperate.

“Oh fuck, baby. You make me feel so good. I want you to cum on my cock. I need to feel you.” He tried to whisper but his pleads were hard to keep in check with his shuddering breath as you were working on top of him. You both were climbing to your highs. “No one else will ever be able to fuck you ever again. No one else could ever fuck you the way I do.” He muttered into your neck trying to muffle his voice as he huffed.

“Nuh uh.” You moaned. You placed you mouth against him to quiet the volume of the sounds you wanted to make “Oh god, only you T. You forever. Only want you always.” Despite your dickmatized haze you genuinely meant that. You only wanted him to fuck you forever. Your thighs began to quiver.

“That’s right. Good girl. My girl.” He bit onto the most sensitive part of your neck he knew drove you crazy. “Absolutely no one else.” You picked up your pace even though your legs were aching, you wanted more of him. His breaths were hot against your skin, audible. You rode him for ages on the couch in pure euphoria. It must have been almost over any hour. You were surprised no one had come down stairs but were more relieved than anything else.

“I love you” you let out the most sinfully innocent moan in his ear. A sound he wanted to keep forever. His soul was completely in your grasp. The way you sounded and felt right now was his heaven. You pulled away and looked at him with twinkling eyes and he pushed up into hitting a spot so deep you had no other option to then fall into an earth shattering orgasm. Your face fell onto his shoulder biting him to not make a noise. He kissed your cheek repeatedly as he continuously thrusted into you as you attempted to move. White hot pleasure spread rapidly through your core. Seeing you cum always tipped Trent over the edge.

“I love you, baby. Gonna fucking cum inside my pussy, yeah? This pussy’s just f’me.” He confirmed his possessiveness over you and you loved it nodding eagerly. His drew his face into your neck and let out a strained moan as he thrusted up a few more times before he filled you up. Your eyes rolled back and closed. His cum leaking out of you more as you bounced on him a few more times helping him ride out his high, fucking his cum deep inside of you untill he was empty. You fell onto his chest heavily breathing tucking into his neck hugging him desperately.

“Let’s go to bed, hmm?” He asked quietly after you both had begun to calm. You pulled your head off him and looked at him so exhausted but with a glow he loved. You were the pretty girl who took everything he gave her just now but also the pretty girl he was unequivocally in love with

“I can’t feel my legs” you whined with a pout. You felt like you’d be given a lethal dose of euphoric pleasure.

“Oh, my poor baby.” he teasingly cooed, pressing his lips to yours gently. He picked you up sweetly and he wrapped your legs around his waist for you carefully as he carried you back to your bedroom.

Trent had to be at Liverpool’s team hotel tomorrow so he was out the door early. They had a game at MetLife stadium which is in New Jersey but it's for New York sports for context. It was kind of cool. Weird to be in an NFL stadium for football. It just gave off a different vibe. It didn’t feel right but it was more like exhibition games, upcoming season preparation.

“For youuu.” You cooed handing your dad the new LFC kit for the season as you got into his car. You were going to the game with your dad and Teddy. You had driven to the stadium with him from your beach house. Lauren and Winnie were also coming but they weren’t as fussed about the actual match. A lot of people you knew in Manhattan or just in the general TriState area were going to this match because it was an opportunity to see Premier League teams play and party. What was a little funny about it being in America though was that there were tailgates for the game, like it was a US college football game. Lauren and Winnie were within that group. People from college and friends you had from growing up all going together to get drunk. The football match was a second priority.

“You’ve got to come to more matches with me, dad.” You told him as you got to your seats just as the warm-ups for the game were beginning. You watched intently and more closely than most people do enjoying the sleeveless warm up gear Liverpool had on due to the summer heat. Trent looked particularly good, freshly tanned and toned.

“Gotta invite me.” Your dad cooed. “Isn’t that right Teddy girl? Don’t you want mummy to invite Pop Pop over to come see you?” He picked her up. She looked adorable in your opinion. She had on this season’s newest jersey freshly pressed with ‘daddy’ on the back. Bittersweetly for you, you had to get a bigger size now that she was getting older and growing. She had on white ruffled shorts and white adidas samba trainers that had red stripes. You sat through the match constantly having to point daddy out to Teddy. She was way more in tune with what was going on now. She could stand on her own for a few seconds before you’d have to help her. She could point and clap a little bit so games were all that much cuter now. As the end of the 90 minutes approached you got a notification your flight had been moved and you began to panic. You hated when plans shifted. Minor inconveniences really rattled you. The final whistle blew you were able to meet Trent but you were stressed and worried about finding a fix to your flight dilemma.

“My baby bear!!!! Did you have a fun time? Did you clap for dada with mama?” Trent asked, scooping Teddy out of your arms. You just smiled at them scrolling through your phone incessantly. “Hey… you alright, baby?” He looked at you and grabbed your chin with his free hand and lifted it up to make you look at him. He knew the face you gave him well. You were stressed. He knew your brain ran a million miles and hour. Very very different to his but he liked to help you, to help you settle it. “Baby.. take a deep breath for me. What’s going on?”

“Our flight got canceled or moved or I don't know and I have bad service and I need to make sure we get back because Teddy has her check up scheduled at the pediatrician and I already moved it once, and…” you babbled insistently.

“Baby….” Trent cut you off in a soothing voice. It felt like you were the only people in the room for a moment. His calming persona just wafted over you. You dropped your shoulders and took a deep breath in and exhaled it out your nose. Teddy tried to imitate the noises and breaths you took quite funnily. So both you and Trent laughed. “Good girl” Trent cooed to Teddy first. “Thank you.” He kissed your forehead and his hands that were resting on your hips crept up your torso raising the hem of your shirt slightly. “I will fix the flight for you. I’ll handle it, okay? You’ll make the appointment. It’s gonna be fine. Promise.” He kissed your lips this time. You you closed your eyes as your mind settled until you heard an ‘mawf” type noise from the cute little girl in Trent’s arm who was pursing her lips towards him waiting for her kiss from daddy.

You sat in a lounge type area after the game because Trent had a bit of free time and was allowed to come and hang out for a bit. So with him, your dad, Teddy, and a drunk Lauren and Winnie you all caught up.

“How’s Marce?” Lauren leaned forward inquiring about Trent’s brother. Winnie eyes widening with a smile knowing all the dirty details. You were close in age so you did a lot together but after you moved Winnie and Lauren met up more often just the two of them. You were happy they got closer but every Instagram story on a night out you couldn’t be at always made you a tinge jealous. If you and Lauren were trouble, her and Winnie were like hell on wheels. They were playing with fire anywhere they went.

“No, we’re not doing this again.” Trent responded, moving his gaze off of you and Teddy momentarily to look at her. Trent loved Lauren and just was joking but definitely didn’t want things to go any further than they had in the Marcel, Jude, Lauren triangle from Greece.

“Laurennnn” You palmed your forehead. “Laur is silly, huh?” you cooed in a baby voice to Teddy. It was a habit. It just happened, it was your life 24/7. You were a mum. Trent hummed concurring with you wiping his thumb over Teddy’s lips.

“No. Laur is not silly, Teddy girl.” She addressed Teddy but threw a glare at you then flicked her eyes back at Trent. “I asked how your brother is… is that suddenly a big deal?” She quipped back knowing very well her sentiment in asking was laced with a million different innuendos.

“It is when you kiss and tell, Lauren.” Your dad chimed in from his seat further down the table you were sitting at. You laughed hiding in Trent’s neck not knowing he had been listening to the whole conversation. Laurent rolled her eyes at your dad playfully.

“Lauren, you can’t just get with all of the men we have on deck.” Winnie looked at her with glossed eyes, still fairly drunk. “I mean, it’s not like T is helping me with who he has on any roster but…” she quipped with a laugh.

“Men on deck? Roster? Win… They are people and my friends. I'd like to keep my relationships with them and with you two if you don’t mind. Lauren already made her bed.” He rambled back at her with a smile teasing them both but also attempting to justify why he hadn’t set her up.

“They were good in bed though” Lauren chimed in. Trent made a face like he was gonna be sick.

“Ignoring that.” he looked at Lauren then back to Winnie. “Besides, I’m not just going to parade around every dressing room I’m in ‘Lads, anyone want my fiance's sister?’ Am I?”

“Well, you should. What picture do you show when people ask what I look like?” Winnie leaned forward asking both you and Trent.

“Teddy, please ignore everything that is coming out of the left side of the table’s mouth please.” Your dad piped up again. The chaotic conversation continued and definitely didn't get any better when Dom came over to grab Trent to leave. Winnie practically drooling. You said goodbye to Trent with a crying Teddy and it broke your heart. It was always the worst. She’d be okay but she also didn’t understand why daddy had to leave. Trent was knee deep in the few more days of preseason but did fix your flight issues the night after that match. You had to get back to your house, your dogs, your life, and your appointment for Teddy. You flew home with her and way too many bags you assured Trent you could handle but regretted it now. Thankfully you had some help from airport staff but it was still exhausting. You needed to sleep on the flight but had to wait till Teddy was out and even then you could only lightly sleep in case she needed something. You held her against your chest and she was good. You felt like she was getting alot more attached to you. Like something clicked, she felt like you were her home and being attached to you was the safest and comfiest place she could be. Even though she weighed a little more now and it was hard having someone glued to you all the time, it was a nice rewarding feeling.

You stood waiting for your Uber outside of arrivals at the Manchester airport with Teddy and the too many bags you promised you could carry. One of your suitcases tipped over as you attempted to wrangle them all.

“Uh Oh!” you cooed to Teddy making a surprised ‘o’ shape with your mouth and she lit up. She attempted to imitate you. It wasn’t great but it was cute nevertheless. “Yeah, Uh Oh! Teddy” You said once more but in your head you were actually saying ‘shit, shit, shit.’ You leaned over with teddy in your arms and saw a masculine hand grabbing the handle of the luggage before you could. He picked it up and you stood up straight again and looked at him.

“Oh wow… Thank you” You said inspecting a oddly familiar looking face. He was an older man but well kempt, dressed really nicely too.

“Not a problem. Visiting for long?” He asked politely clocking your American accent and what felt like 100 pieces of luggage around you.

“I guess you could say that, I visited a couple years ago… never left though” you candidly explained with a smile. You readjusted your hold of Teddy. You were focused on her but you could feel his eyes examining you.

“Have we met before?” He cooed, taking a closer look at Teddy and then you. Recognizing both faces in different ways almost perplexing him more.

“Hmmm” You thought for a moment. “You know what? Yeah, I think we have. I met you at the end of Liverpool’s last season a few months ago. My fiance introduced us. I believe you know him.” You responded recognizing that you had met this man at the party the club had thrown directly after the final match.

“I knew that face looked familiar. An Alexander-Arnold a mile away.” He cooed. He was talking about Teddy, of course. You hummed politely. “I’d love to talk to you sometime…” He continued talking. You paused a little confused what he was asking so you waited for him to say more. “ I am a lifelong fan of the club but I really work for Condé Nast and I’ve been wanting to do something to better understand the inside. What makes them tick?” He explained but it didn’t really give you any clearer idea of what he meant.

“Makes them tick?” you asked him, still trying to wrap your head around what was happening, while watching your baby, whilst looking for your Uber. You were slightly overstimulated but you were listening best you could.

“Your fiance. How do you make it work? It’s a weird dynamic I imagine. You make their world go round but you have your own life, your own interests. You're not out on pitch on match day. They come home to you, a valuable human, so who are you? I want to know about you." It was strange to hear someone speak about a relationship he didn't know anything about so honestly and almost insightfully like he already knew.

“You said Condé?” You asked just trying to organize this whole thing. You had worked with some of their publications before you moved and dabbled a little here and there after you did but not much anymore. You knew enough about the company though.

“Mostly GQ and Vanity Fair. In fact, that's where I met Trent first. I heard he was coming in for a shoot when a kind editor tipped me off that a footballer from my beloved club was coming in.” He spoke like such an old man, he had grandfather vibes in the best way. It felt like you were talking to stylish Santa in a hilariously endearing way.

“Oh, amazing. Well, I don’t know. I’ve never done any sort of official interview or thing in the public” you babbled starting to feel awkward. This was really uncharted territory. He gave you his card. You inspected it closely. God, this could all be some sort of ruse but it seemed legit as you read it time and time over again. ‘Bentley Brown’

“If you’d ever want to, I’d love to meet you again sometime for a tea or a pint and tell you more about what I think we could do.” You just nodded. “Lovely to meet you both. Best of luck with the season.” You stared at the business card for days after on your dresser in your bedroom. You’d never thought about people wanting to interview you. You’d had a career before and you had an instagram following now but that wasn’t anything official or noteworthy worth being published in print.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 13 xx

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bullet-prooflove · 16 hours

Note

A prompt please for Terry Silver, 30-Darling you deserve more than just these roses.

Tagging: @volumesofforgottenlore@kmc1989@somethingdarkside17@noonee333

JP doesn’t get the message that you’re not interested. You realise this when a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne is delivered to the art gallery where you work.

Darling, you deserve more than just roses. – JP

It’s a dig at Terry, the bouquet of red roses he gave to you during your art show last night.

Love and admiration, the colour represented.

And you felt that in every single part of your being when he leaned in close and kissed your mouth. That’s the thing with Terry, he makes you feel like you’re the centre of his world, that there isn’t a part of you he doesn’t cherish.

JP, he can’t even remember that you dislike champagne, you have ever since the evening you got drunk off on an empty stomach and spent the entire night throwing it back up again. You’d told JP that story several times during the course of your relationship and here you are with a ornate box of Moet.

You try to send it back but the courier refuses to take it. You end up setting it on the shelf behind the desk so you can turn your attention to the more important tasks you have to do throughout your day.

“He’s persistent isn’t he?” Terry remarks that evening when he picks you up from the gallery. He’d been helping you collect some of your paint supplies for a project you want to start at the house when he’d come across the champagne box. “He doesn’t even remember how much you hate the taste.”

“It’s not really about me.” You tell him as you take the box from his hands and drop it into the garbage can with the rest of the trash. “It’s about the competition, the fact I’m with someone else, that I’m happy with them. He never thought I would accomplish anything like this.”

He’d said that to your face, Terry recalls. He’d told you your paintings were reductive, stupid simple things that couldn’t stimulate even the most stupidest of children.

I didn’t paint for almost a year after that, you’d told Terry. It was why I took the residency in Paris, I needed a change of scenery, something to remind me of the joy in it.

He despises the other man for that, for ruining something that had brought you so much pleasure.

“I want to hurt him.” Terry says quietly, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he draws you close. The scent of your perfume floods his senses, tones of amber, wild berries and rosewater. It’s dark and sensual, just like you in this clinging black dress. “For doing that to you back then, for trying to do it to you again now.”

“Beating the shit out of him isn’t going to help either of us.” You remind him, your fingers lacing at the back of his neck as your body presses against the length of his.

“What if I didn’t beat the shit out of him?” He negotiates, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “What if I did to him exactly what he did to you back then?”

It wasn’t just your confidence JP had destroyed, it was your actual paintings. When you’d told him you were leaving him he’d hosted a bonfire party, used them for fuel. You’d come back to the house to pick up your stuff and found them burning in the back yard.

“Weren’t much good for anything else.” He’d told you as he took a sip from his beer.

You’d cried the entire drive home.

“I’m going to buy his paintings tomorrow, every single one of them.” Terry tells you as his thumb ghosts over the curve of your cheek. “And then me and you are going to take them over to his house and we’re going to have a bonfire of our own.”

“I love you.” You say fiercely. “For understanding how much this means to me.”

“He took something from you.” Terry whispers against your lips. “Nobody gets to hurt you and walk away.”

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wafflefries13 · 9 hours

Text

The Consequence of Late Night Calls

Summary: You've been friends with Katsuki for years, and you've always thought it's been just that - friends. But when you get a late-night call, it might just change things.

AN: Last repost! The original post got eaten by Tumblr. I'm still really proud of this one. I wrote it back when I was first starting to publish fanfic and I like how it turned out.

Warnings: College au, drinking, language

The call shocked you out of a deep but impromptu sleep. You jerked up from the noise, a page of lecture notes sticking to your check. It fluttered back to the desk covered in its own mess of loose leaf documents, used textbooks that cost more than a weekend trip to Disney World, and a laptop missing three of its letter keys.

You dragged your tongue against your teeth, trying to get rid of the cotton feel coating the inside of your mouth. Rubbing stars into your tired eyes, you wondered when exactly you had fallen asleep. Was it somewhere near memorizing the latin terminology for court rhetoric or around reading the case file and trial records you were going to be tested over on Monday? Deciding wondering was basically pointless, considering you had pretty much forgotten all of it anyway, you pawed blindly around for your phone.

“Hello?” You answered, eyes still closed, although it probably came out and more of a mumbled groan than anything else.

“(Y/NNNNNNNNN)!”

You pulled the phone away from your ear, wincing at the sudden loud noise. Blinking bleerally, you looked down at your phone. You had taken the caller ID picture a year ago, at a sorority Halloween party you barely remembered aside from the copious amounts of alcohol consumed followed by an ill-advised scavenger hunt that ended with a call to the police and the dean’s car somehow ending up in the agriculture department’s greenhouse crowded with Jack-O-lanterns. It was a profile shot of Bakugou Katsuki, his mouth opened in a mid-yell scowl, as was his standard expression, and eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. One hand extended to try and block the camera, the other clutching a brown bottle. He was wearing a fantasy barbarian king costume, chest bare to show off the taut muscles he worked so hard for all of high school to get. When he’d shown up in it, or, rather, when Kirishima had dragged him along in his own dragonborn costume, you couldn’t believe he still had it. You remembered sitting in your basement in 9th grade, pricking your fingers with a sewing needle as you and the rest of your newly formed D&D group, Bakugou and Kirishima included, spent way too much time and effort into creating your costumes.

Rubbing at the bridge of your nose in a vain attempt to chase away the headache you could already feel forming, you brought the phone back to your ear. You could hear the low thump of bass heavy music in the background.

“Hi, Suki,” You said, trying not to sound condescending, but it came out like that anyway.

“Hey!” He said sharply. The rest of his reply was slurred smooth. “I told you not to call me that.”

You smirked. “It’s cute.”

“It’s embarrassing! ‘M not cute.”

“No, you’re calling me at-” You pulled the phone away again to check the time. “Katsuki, it’s like two in the morning, what the hell?”

You heard someone shout something on the other side of the line that Katsuki mumbled a reply to. To you he said, “Was thinking about you.”

You felt yourself blush despite yourself. “You were thinking about me?”

There was a clunk and a bump. You could imagine him falling against a wall and sliding down to sit until the room stopped spinning. “Yeah. I don’t like it.”

You ignored the jab in your heart. “Well, thanks.”

“It keeps happening. I’ll just be, like, doing stuff, and then I just think, ‘What would (Y/N) think of that?’ ‘I wonder what (Y/N)’s doing right now.’ ‘(Y/N) would know what to do now. She’s so smart. And her hands look so soft. And her eyes are so pretty.’” He was quiet for a second. “It’s annoying. I can’t stop thinking about you. And it’s worse when you’re here.” There was a shuffling as you heard him try to stand up then give up again. “Why aren’t you here? I want you here.”

You were wide awake now. You clenched and unclenched your hand, trying to process the information your obviously drunk friend had just confessed. Your stomach churned in a mix of anticipation, anxiety, and straight up butterflies.

What the hell did all of that mean? Well, of course you knew what it meant, or you knew what it meant when spoken by a sober person of sound mind and body. But there was no way, you tried to rationalize, that The Bakugou Katsuki, the guy you’d known since freshman year of high school when he’d punched a guy who had flipped up your uniform skirt on the first day, the guy who had surprised just about everyone in home economics when he busted out a three tiered cake like it was no one’s business, the guy whos ego was big enough to have its own gravitational pull, was confessing his feelings to you in a drunk rant at two in the morning.

“Katsuki,” You said in a soft voice. “I-”

There was a retching sound from the other end of the line. Katsuki coughed, tried to say something, then threw up again. “Aw, fuck.”

That headache was back with avengence now. You sighed, looking for your keys. “Katsuki, where are you?”

“Uhh, on campus? At the Kappa Alpha Betta Whatever house. There’s a party. Why aren’t you here?”

“You know I hate all the Greek life bs. Stay where you are, okay? I’m coming to get you. You’re completely wasted.”

“‘M not. I can handle what I drink.” There was another pause before he wretched again.

“Did you just throw up again?”

“...No.”

“Cool. I’ll be there in ten.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond before hanging it. You didn’t think your heart could take it if he kept going on like he had been. Grabbing your keys and heading out of your crowded studio apartment, you hopped in your car to go save your drunk friend from making any other ill advised decisions that night.

You realized that you were probably over thinking the whole phone call as you drove through deserted streets. You couldn’t help it, it was a bad habit you had formed as a kid that now made you obsess over court documents and testimonies in class. But now, instead of helping, it was picking you apart. What did Katsuki’s tone imply when he was talking to you just now? Could you trust the tone of an inebriated person? What did he mean when he said he thought about you a lot? You’d known each other for years now, being involved in almost all the same activities. Wouldn’t it be natural to think about someone you spent so much time with? But you’d known Kirishima for just as long, not to mention the rest of the self-named “Baku-Squad.” You’d never gotten a late night drunk call from any of them. Heck, Katsuki had known Izuku way longer than he had known you, and you were pretty dang sure Katsuki had never called him going on and on about how he always thought about him.

Stopping at a red light, you pressed your forehead into the soft faux-leather of your steering wheel, willing your thoughts to calm down and just come to a rational conclusion already. Expect, you know, a rational conclusion that wasn’t that the guy you had carried a torch for for almost as long as you had known him might actually have feelings for you back.

You turned on to the street lined with sororities and fraternities across from the main campus. You had to slam on your breaks almost immediately to avoid running over a tipsy, giggling co-ed who was stumbling out into the road. She didn’t even look up at you.

You didn’t know exactly which house Katsuki was stranded at, considering you could see at least three different parties all going on at first glance. His “Kappa Alpha Betta Whatever” wasn’t very helpful, either, considering all the Greek letters adorning the houses blended together in your mind at some point. And you really didn’t want to tramp through a bunch of different houses tonight.

Thankfully, you were saved the trouble when you saw Kirishima’s 1969 Chevrolet Chevelle park half off the curb in front of one of the houses. You’d know that car anywhere. Kirishima had dragged your group to various scrap yards and auto-repair stores all summer after he got his license, the first of you all to do so, in an effort to fix up the worn down Chevelle that he’d bought for a hundred bucks and a turkey sandwich.

You parked on the other side of the street then jogged across to the house that was practically vibrating with heavy music and Greek life energy. Stepping over a semi-conscious frat boy laying in the doorway, you scanned around the house for any sign of Katsuki’s pomeranian-puff-ball hair.

You spotted Denki lounging on a couch, a lampshade on his head and a tangle of phone chargers clutched in his fist. His hand sparked every now and then as he used his quirk to recharge the collection of phones.

You lifted up the edge of the lampshade. “Hey there, Pikachu.”

“Heeeeeey~” He said, giving you a thumbs up. You could already tell he was too far gone, although you didn’t know if it was from drinking or the over use of his quirk.

“(Y/N)!” You heard a voice call behind you. A body fell heavily against your back. Sero wrapped his arms around you in a backwards hug. “Where you been? We missed you!”

“Studying. I’m boring, remember? I’m looking for Katsuki, you seen him around?”

Sero snickered. “Bakugou, huh? He’s been looking for you for a long time, right, Denki?”

“Heeeeeey~”

You swallowed hard. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Sero snickered again, flopping on the couch next to Denki. “Can’t tell. Part of the bro code. And he said he’d kill me.”

“That does sound like Katsuki.”

Sero covered his eyes with his arm, head leaning back. With a wide smile, he waved his hand in the vague direction to the back door. “I think he’s out by the pool or something.”

You waved bye. “Thanks, I’ll go check it out. You guys take care of yourselves, okay?”

“Look at ‘em go,” Sero said to Denki as you left. “You think they’ll have a spring wedding?”

“Heeeeeey~”

*~~~~*

You managed to weave your way through the crowd of bodies clogging the house to finally spill out into the back yard. You had no idea how people were able to stay this energized this late into the night with this many other people around. You remembered once being stuck at another party, early on in your college days. When it became super clear you didn’t want to be there, overwhelmed by the noise, the crush of bodies, and the suffocation of social enterprise, Katsuki had dragged Kirishima over to you, planting him in front of you as your ‘extrovert shield.’ He’d stayed with you behind the boisterous redhead for the rest of the night.

You wondered if Katsuki remembered doing that, if he remembered any of the small nice gestures he did for you over the years. And now, with his call, with what Sero said, with your over analyzing brain, you were dissecting every interaction you could remember. Was the time he opened a door for you a signal? Was the reason he would ask to study with you for chemistry, when he was way better in practically every subject than you, just so he could be close to you? Were the times he had given you his jacket when you were cold meant to be a more intimate moment?

God, you were going to go crazy.

Walking around the pool, you finally spotted the hot-headed blond. He was sitting slouched over on the end of one of the reclining pool chairs, forearms braced on his knees. You almost called out to him, stopping cold when you saw the girl behind him. She had draped herself over his back, chin rested in the crook of his neck, one had massaging his shoulder, the other conspicuously sneaking under the hem of his shirt to rub circles on his abs.

You clenched and unclenched your hands, worry gnawing at you as a headache at the back of your skull. Had something changed between the time he had called you and now? Had there been nothing there to change at all? Had you been misreading this situation the whole time?

Katsuki looked up, his permanently affixed scowl even deeper. The second his jewel-red eyes met yours, you felt your heart skip a beat. He jumped to his feet so fast the girl behind him fell back against the chair. He tried marching over to you, which was made only slightly less intimidating by the drunk sway to his step.

You didn’t remember him being so tall. You’d just seen him this afternoon. There was a flushed blush across his face, adding a surprising softness. Were his arms always that strong looking? Were his eyes that piercing? Was his jaw that strong?

“You came,” He said, voice rough as whiskey soaking into gravel.

You spread your hands. “Well, you said my name three times, so, here I am!” You laughed nervously, trying to ignore how his gaze pinned you down.

He took another step towards you, hand reading up. “(Y/N), I-”

His cheeks turned from pink to green. Lurching to the side, he vomited into the pool. You tried to help him back up, hunched over and trying to catch his breath. The crowd of people around you groaned in disgust before rolling in to sarcastic applause. Katsuki flipped them off.

“Alright, Suki,” You said, rubbing his back. “Let’s get you back home.”

He grumbled, leaning his full weight against you. You almost stumbled and fell with the sudden shift of balance. Katsuki slid his arm around your waist, hand firmly grasping your hip, as if he was the one trying to prevent you from a drunken stumble. His fingers felt like fire through your clothes.

You decided to go around the house instead of trying to push your way through it. Soon you were making your way across the street. It took some maneuvering to unlock and open the passenger door. You practically dropped Katsuki in where his head fell back with a groan. You grabbed his seat belt and stretched across him to fasten it. It wasn’t until he started petting your hair that your realized your position of half-way laying across his lap. You jerked back, some of your hair getting caught in his fingers. He made a disappointed sound at the loss of it.

You slid back into the driver's seat, trembling hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. You had to take a few steadying breaths before you were ready to start the car. Pulling out of the neighborhood, you glanced over at Katsuki. His eye brows were furrowed, eyes closed, mouth pulled in a small frown.

God, he looked adorable.

You hit the break harder than you meant to at the light. Adorable? Where the hell did that thought come from? He’d probably be furious if he knew you ever thought that.

But…

You risked another look at him. When he let his face relax like this, you could see the slight chub that still clung to his cheeks. Another thing he would hate to know that you thought was how much you loved the softness that it leant him. It was cute.

Almost without your realizing it, you lifted your hand. You were overcome with the sudden urge to poke his cheek. A car horn blared behind you when your finger was less than an inch from his face. You let out an undignified squeak, hands slamming back to the wheel. Katsuki grumbled and turned in the seat, head resting against the window. You could feel the blush burning up your face.

A few minutes later, you pulled back to the apartment complex. You both lived in the same building, Katsuki directly below your own unit. And now you were overthinking his reason for not living on campus.

When you opened the passenger door, Katsuki almost fell out. You jerked forward to catch him then dragged him out. He half woke up, as feeble on his legs as a newborn horse.

You lugged him through the lobby. He was muttering under his breath, but most of the words you could make out were curses. Not unusual for him. You pressed the button for the elevator repeatedly. It just blinked back at you. You sighed in frustration. They had been doing maintenance on your building all week, but now might have been the absolute worst time to do the elevator.

You shook Katsuki’s shoulder a little bit. His head jostled like a bobble-head. “Suki, I’m gonna need your help here for a minute.”

His head lolled forward, forehead coming down to press to yours. In a quiet voice, he whispered, “I’d do anything for you.”

You shoved him upright, face burning. “Then walk up the damn stairs yourself!”

Despite that, you still ended up half-carrying him up four flights of stairs. You were uncomfortably sweaty when you reached the door to Katsuki’s apartment. The two of you had traded copies of your apartment keys when you had moved in. “In case something happens to your dumb ass and I need to come save you,” He had said. He would frequently stop by, usually when you were hours deep into an all-nighter. He’d bring his laptop and work on whatever 12 page essay way due on your bed while you poured over case reports. You’d sit in silence, just together, sharing the same space, content with nothing more than knowing the other was nearby. Or he’d bring you real food to make sure you weren’t just eating ramen all the time. In turn, you’d pull him out for game night with the squad, make sure he’d actually call his mother once in a while, and lend an ear to his semi-nightly rants on whoever he decided to hate that night.

You fumbled with the keys, jamming the key in the lock then pushing it open with your shoulder that wasn’t currently occupied by a half-asleep, full-drunk boy who had at least 50 pounds and ten inches on you.

There was always an expectation with the rooms of single college boys. Greasy pizza boxes, empty bottles of booze displayed like expensive decor, at least one poster of a half-naked girl somewhere, probably a basket of clothes that should have been washed weeks ago. And while you knew plenty of guys who fit that description, Katsuki defied expectation. His apartment was always immaculate. His shoes were lined neatly by the door, a calendar above his desk color-coded with assignment due dates, bed made. Katsuki may give off the persona of a punk, but you knew he was a straight-laced nerd through and through.

With the last of your strength, you lugged him across the room, dropping him on his bed. With a groan, you stretched your arms up until you heard a satisfying pop in your back. Hands on your hips, you watched as Katsuki moaned, burying his face in his pillow and pulling his feet up from the floor. You sat on the end of the bed, tugging his feet to you to unlace his shoes. You let them fall haphazardly to the floor, too tired to care about his level of neatness.

You grabbed a bucket from his hall closet, putting it next to the head of his bed for when he inevitably woke up vomiting in the morning. Checking his bathroom, you put a couple of painkillers and a glass of water on the nightstand with a post-it note saying “Drink Me.”

Brushing your hands off, you looked around and checked your work. Satisfied that he wouldn’t kill himself between now and when you would inevitably check on him in the morning, you decided it was finally time to head back upstairs and get some well deserved sleep.

But…

You turned back at the door. Katsuki was splayed like a starfish, gently snoring with his mouth wide open. You also noticed his blushing red fluffy cheeks.

You tapped the door knob a few times before sighing in surrender to temptation and turnin back. You knelt down next to the bed. For a moment, you just watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful now. You reached out. Your index finger sunk into his cheek like it was a marshmallow. You couldn’t believe you had never done this before. God, he really was adorable.

Your thoughts were abruptly cut off as Katsuki’s hand shot up and grabbed your wrist with an iron grip. With a shriek, you tried to scramble backwards. Katsuki lazily opened his eyes, not at all bothered by your struggles. With seemingly no effort on his part, he tugged you forward. Off balance, you fell into his chest. Katsuki wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug, slinging a leg over yours, trapping you on the bed.

“Katsuki!” You hissed. You squirmed in his hold, not getting any extra room. He just hummed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You were pretty sure your face was hot enough to start a fire. “Katsuki, let me go!”

“No,” He mumbled. His voice rumbled against your skin sending shivers through your whole body.

“Katsuki!”

“You can’t leave. If you leave, you won’t come back.”

You stopped struggling. “What are you talking about?”

He squeezed you tighter. “I’m loud. I get angry real easy. I fight a lot. And you…” He trailed off, his breath catching and rattling in his chest. “You’re so much better than me. You’re nice and smart and talented and pretty and caring and… and…” You could feel the hot tears landing on your skin. He was starting to shake. His grip had loosened enough for you to get out, but instead you brought your arms up and pulled him in closer. “If I let you go, you’ll see how much better you are than me. And you’ll leave. You’ll leave me because you’re better and you deserve so much better. But I’m a selfish bastard and I just want you for myself because I love you so damn much.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You wiggled your hand up, threading your hand into his hair and tilting his head to look up at you.

“I love you too,” You said softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Katsuki crushed you to his chest, letting out another loud sob. You could feel hot tears pressing against your eyes. You had no idea Katsuki felt this way about anything; about you, about himself, about your relationship.

But one thing you knew for sure: You loved Bakugou Katsuki.

~~~

The first thing Katsuki noticed when he woke up was the head ache. His head felt like he had a railroad spike jammed through his temples. God, what did he do last night? There was the party at Kappa Alpha Betta Whatever house. It’d been fine for a while, hanging out with the guys, playing beer pong, winning some extra cash from freshman in poker (where did he put that money anyway?). And then…

And then someone had said your name. He’d heard it across the room, an amazing feat in and of itself, but his ears were trained for any news of you. He’d jerked up right when he heard it, missing his shot at the beer pong table. He gladly took his drink and went prowling through the house. Who had said your name? Were you here? Were you coming?

It might have been selfish, he knew how much you hated loud crowds, but damn it, he wanted you here. He remembered the last Greek life party you had been at. He’d lost you at some point between getting into an argument with that damn Deku and pulling Denki down from a keg stand. He’d finally found you huddled into some back corner, looking like a rabbit about to dart from a hungry fox (he wouldn’t mind being that fox, honestly, he could eat you right up.) You’d lost the color in your face, hands shaking as you clutched your red Solo cup almost hard enough for your nails to pierce the plastic.

He snatched Kirishima by his collar as he carved a path through the room. He planted the extroverted red-head in front of you, creating an extrovert shield between himself and the love of his life you. He’d spent the rest of the night talking to you. Nothing special, he couldn’t even really remember what about. But he did remember the relaxed slope of your shoulders, the spark in your eyes, the smile that played on your lips at whatever lame joke he had just made.

Back in the present (or last night, whatever), he was still stalking through the halls looking for whoever had mentioned you. He heard it again, the tail end of your name, coming from the living room.

“-(/N) never had it so good.” There he was, lounging along the bottom stairs with a smug look on his face as he regaled the small crowd he had attracted. Katsuki recognized him as one of those legacy kids, the one who showed up to the first day of orientation in a sleek black Bugatti and took up three parking spaces, talked in almost every one of his classes when he even bothered to show up, and was, without a doubt at every party on or off campus.

And now he was telling a story about you. What were you ever doing with an asshole like him?

“You would never guess it from how she dresses, you know,” The guy continued, lazily waving his half-empty beer bottle. “But she is stacked.”

Katsuki tensed up, his heart jumping into his throat. He pushed aside the crowd until he stood right in front of the bragger on the stairs. “What did you just say?” He asked through clenched teeth. “You're talking about (Y/N) (L/N), right?”

He lazily swept his gaze up, grinning wide when he saw Katsuki. “Yeah, (Y/N)? You know, she comes across as a frigid bitch, but let me tell you, she’s an incredible lay.” Katsuki’s vision went red. The crowd started to subtly shuffle away, feeling the cold change in atmosphere. “Not much besides that, honestly. Thank god her tits and ass are amazing, cause her face sure wasn’t doing it for me. Super boring, too, heard she’s failing her classes. Oh, well. Hey, I could use a side-piece when I’m running my own firm, you know?”

The asshole never saw it coming. In the span of a heart beat, Katsuki had grabbed his designer jacket and hoisted him off the stairs, pinning him to the wall so his feet kicked to try and reach the ground.

“You listen to me, asshole,” Katsuki hissed. “You never talk about (Y/N) again. You never look at her, you never talk to your shit-stain friends about her, you sure as fuck never tell another lie about her, or so help me, you’ll get to find out what color your liver is.”

Katsuki was half-way sure the jerk had pissed his pants. He dropped him in a heap, landing in the puddle of spilled beer on the floor. He brushed his hand off on his jeans, eager to get whatever germs the gossip had off him.

He was almost out of ear shot when he heard the rich kid spit and say, “Fine. She’s probably crawling with it if you’re dicking her down.”

The kid’s head made a dent in the wall as he richoched back from the impact of Katsuki’s punch. He would easily have a black eye and a broken nose, the chipped tooth would just be a bonus.

Katsuki’s head was fuzzy with rage, stalked through the house, bee-lining it to the nearest source of inebriation. How dare he? How fucking dare that absolute ass-wipe ever even think of saying such horrible things about you? He wasn’t even worth knowing your name, much less saying it. Not to mention the fact he must be blind to think you were anything less than stunning. Ever since he had known you, you had been nothing but kind and smart and caring and funny and…

“Baku-bro, you doing okay?”

Katsuki didn’t realize how tight he was holding his fists until he relaxed. His nails had made half-moon indents in his palms, his knuckles brushed red from the punch.

Kirishima had his mouth pulled down in that stupid puppy dog pout. “I’m fine,” Katsuki brushed him off. He grabbed a beer out of an iced cooler, twisting off the cap in a single motion and chugging half the bottle.

“Well, that’s good, cause I don’t think Tim Flood is making it out of here without a few stitches.”

“Good.” Katsuki finished the beer and chucked it into a recycle bin. He grabbed another and stalked out of the room. Everything felt too hot, too tight. His head was pounding. If you were here, you’d get a bag of ice and press it against his forehead. You’d probably call him an idiot for getting into another fight, that he needed to learn how to manage his temper better. He’d call you a dumbass but let you lead him away somewhere dark and quiet, away from all the other more insufferable dumbasses. You’d find some pain killers, get him some water, because that’s just the kind of caring person you were. Maybe you’d bring him upstairs, lead him to an unoccupied bedroom. The two of you would sit together on the bed, maybe just a little too close. You’d hand him the water, his hand would brush against yours. You’d look down, shy, blushing cutely. He’d lean forward, thread his hand through your incredibly soft hair, angle your face up to him. Your plush lips would part slightly and he’d lean forward and -

“Are you sure you’re good?” Kirishima asked, abruptly cutting off Katsuki’s impromptu fantasy. “Cause you don’t look so good.” Katsuki bit his tongue. “Is it because of what that guy said about (Y/N)?” Katsuki whipped around, glaring daggers. Kirishima smiled and put his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, bro, it’s okay! No one believed him, anyway.”

Katsuki scoffed, taking a swig of the beer. “(Y/N)’s too good for him anyway.”

“I bet you think (Y/N)’s too good for everyone here, right?”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you need to hurry up and tell (Y/N) you like her!” Sero shouted, jumping in out of nowhere.

Katsuki dropped his bottle, Kirishima catching it just in time, and grabbed Sero by the front of his shirt and lifted him up. Sero just grinned his stupid, wide grin.

“Come on, Katsuki,” Denki said, slinging an arm around Katsuki’s shoulders. “We all know you’ve had a thing for (Y/N) since high school. Why don’t you just put us all out of our misery and tell her already?!”

Katsuki felt his face heat up. “I don’t- I haven’t - Fuck you!” Katsuki couldn’t remember why he was friends with these three idiots as they all burst out into laughter.

He snatched his bottle back and pushed through the crowd. He needed some air. He heard Sero yell after him, “You have to tell her eventually!”

And… That was mostly it. Katsuki’s memories of last night sort of started to trail off after that. He knew that he drank, he drank a lot. At some point he ended up by the pool. And maybe he’d called someone? Oh, hell, he hoped he hadn’t called someone.

His eyes snapped open at the soft groan. There you were, just inches away from his face, fast asleep and tucked in his arms. You were pressed close, breasts pushing against his chest, legs tangled with his, one hand clutching his shirt. Your lips were parted ever so slightly, breathing heavy and even.

And you were so fucking close.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His arms tightened around you and he tensed. How the hell did this happen? Did you actually come to the party last night? When, and why? What had called you down there-?

Oh. Oh, the call! He had called you last night? Some time in his drunken haze he must have figured out to bypass the timed lock he had put on it specifically to avoid calling people with a too-honest tongue. But had you…? Nervously, he looked down. He sighed in relief. You were both still dressed. At least that was one mistake he knew he hadn’t made.

Alright, that was one problem. Now, on to the next one: How was he going to get out of here without waking you up? Craning his head around, he checked out the room. Wait, this was his room. He was in his apartment! A picture of last night started to form in his mind. He’d called you, blabbering God knows what, and then you’d been a good person (why were you such a good person?) and had come to get him, to make sure he was okay. And then what? He’d somehow seduced you into his bed? No, it was more likely you had stayed to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit, maybe sat on the bed because it was the middle of the night and you were exhausted, and then… This.

Okay, okay, no, this was fine, he could fix this. He could slip out, let you keep sleeping. He’d make some breakfast in the kitchen and then you’d wake up, wander in rubbing the sleep from your eyes in that cute way you did when you pulled an all-nighter studying. He’d chastise you for lugging his drunk ass up here, for being out so late at night. You’d wave him off, compliment his cooking, tell him to take better care of himself, and then smile up at him with that blindingly beautiful smile and sparkling eyes.

“Morning.” Katsuki yelped at your greeting. He stared, wide-eyed, down at you, as you look back up at him lazily with those sparkling eyes. “It’s kinda hard to breathe here.” He realized then just how tight he was holding you. He jerked backward, his shout of surprise cut off as he fell off the bed. He rubbed his sore hip, looking up when he heard your giggle. You were leaning over the bed, smiling shyly when he caught you staring.

He gulped hard, feeling his face burning up. “Hi.”

You tucked a loose threat of hair behind your ear. “Hi.”

He should say something. He needed to say something. God, why wasn’t he saying something?

“I-“ Katsuki stopped with an incomplete thought in his mouth. He suddenly felt uncomfortably hot, his stomach clenching and throat going dry. Your face dropped as you lunged forward, dragging a bucket in front of him (where did that even come from?). He surged forward, clenching the sides of the bucket in a white knuckled grip, and threw up.

You slid off the bed and knelt next to him. You rubbed small circles in his back, whispering small comforts as he coughed up bile and alcohol and who knows what else. You reached over behind him and grabbed a glass of water from his nightstand.

“Here,” You said. “Rinse and spit. Don’t swallow or gargle, it’ll just mess with your gag reflex.” Rubbing the spike of pain growing in his forehead, he did what you said. When he caught his breath, he accepted the pain killers you had and dry swallowed them. You really had prepared for everything, huh?

Katsuki shoved the bucket away with his foot, leaning back against the bed. “Fuck…”

You hummed in response and scooted to sit next to him. “So,” You said.

“So,” He said back.

“I don’t suppose you remember much from last night?”

He clenched his jaw, mouth going dryer than it already was, if that was possible. He tried to laugh, but it sounded forced and strained, even to him. “Hey, we’re both still wearing pants, right?” You didn’t laugh back.

“So that’s a no then?” The seriousness with which you said that made him pause.

“I, uh, think I called you?”

“MmHmm. You didn’t sound too great, so I came to pull you out.”

“Huh. Thanks for that.”

“Yup.” You paused for a second. “Do you remember… anything else you said?”

Fuck.

“Uhh, I owe you breakfast?”

You looked away. “Is there anything you maybe told Sero that you wouldn’t want him to tell me?”

Double fuck.

“If this is about Halloween last year, Mina was the one who brought the Ouija board.” He smirked at you, waiting for you to laugh with him. Instead you didn’t even look up, staring a hole in the carpet with the intensity of your gaze.

You let out a sigh through your nose, pushing off your knees to stand. “I’m gonna head out,” You said, rubbing the back of your head and still not looking at him.

Katsuki jumped up, immediately regretting as his head began swimming. “(Y/N), wait-“ He cut himself off with another surge of nausea and lurched towards the bucket.

“Katsuki,” You said, sounding frustrated. “Look, I…” You sighed, running a hand through your hair and turning back to him. “We’ve known each other for a long time now, right? And for all the time I’ve known you, you’ve been stubborn and pig-headed and aggressive and just, you know, you. But still, in all that time, despite everything, I still…” You pressed your lips, looking for the right words. “I’m happy when I’m around you, Katsuki. I feel at ease, I feel protected, I feel like I can be better at anything. And I’ve thought about this a lot, so much that it makes my head spin and my heart hurt, but through all the trouble I still think it’s worth it. Because at the end of the day it means I still get to be with you and sometimes I just feel like that’s enough, but now I…” Your lip was trembling, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. Katsuki wanted nothing more than to take a big step forward and wrap you in the biggest, tightest hug of your life. Finally, you sighed in defeat. “But if you can’t say it, if the One and Only Katsuki Bakugou can’t say it, then how the hell can I?”

Your voice broke on the last word. Katsuki was so stunned and suddenly pinned with guilt that he couldn’t move when you spun on your heels and rushed out of his apartment.

Oh, fuck.

~~~

“Idiot,” You murmured to yourself as you fled up the apartment stairs, furiously wiping at your eyes to get rid of the oncoming tears. “Idiot, idiot, idiot.” By the time you reached your apartment and slammed the door behind you, you weren’t sure if you were talking about Katsuki or yourself.

You felt sick. Anxiety gnawed at your mind like a starving coyote. Had you really just confessed your feelings to Katsuki? Had you really just confessed your feelings to Katsuki like that? Would he ever speak to you again? Would things just become too awkward that you’d be edged out of your friend group? They had known Katsuki much longer than they had known you, after all. God, what if he was calling Kirishima right now and telling him about the disaster of a morning, after you had taken advantage of his blitz out state and slept in the same bed with him?

Well, no. Kirishima was probably still knocked out from his own night of heavy imbibing. Not to mention that even he, the most kind-hearted and patient person you knew, would have to draw a line at listening to Katsuki rant while dealing with a massive hangover.

And no, Katsuki wouldn’t do that to you. Despite his rough deminor, his abrasive personality, and his profane tongue, Katsuki was actually a sweetheart deep down. Maybe really deep down, but still. He wouldn’t be so intentionally cruel, even if you told him that you shared all of his baby pictures of him playing in his All Might onesie online.

So then why were you still huddled on a heap on the floor, back pressed against the front door, crying? Why was this pit of loneliness blooming in your chest?

You yelped at the sudden banging on the door. Who could be here so early in the morning? You had paid rent this month, right? You sniffed, rubbing your eyes and smoothing out your clothes. You hoped your cheeks weren’t the blotchy red they got whenever you were upset. You took a deep breath to steady your voice for whoever was outside.

Opening the door, you looked up at a wide-eyed Katsuki, panting hard with determination set on his face. You groaned internally.

“Katsuki,” You began,” About what I said, I’m sorr-”

Without waiting for you to finish, Katsuki surged forward. You tried to take a step backward, almost falling, but he caught you, a strong grip on your shoulders. Without waiting for you to get your bearings, Katsuki leaned in, smashing his lips against yours.

It wasn’t a graceful kiss, all clashing teeth and urgency rather than romance. His eyes were screwed closed. He stayed pressed against you, not moving, grip so tight on your upper arms you thought there might be a mark later.

Just as suddenly as he had come forward, he jerked back, but kept his hold on you. You both breathed heavily, eyes locked. Your mind whirled, a hundred voices shouting at the same time. For once, you decided to ignore them and let your body do what it wanted.

You reached up, wrapping your arms around Katsuki’s neck and pulled him back in. This kiss was controlled, soft and sweet. His hands dropped from your shoulders to wrap around your waist. He pressed in harder, adding desperation in the kiss, as if he thought you would vanish any second. When you both pulled away this time, he leaned his forehead against yours, noses bumping into each other, sharing the same breath.

His voice was rough. “Sorry,” He said. “I had to brush my teeth first.”

#bnha #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #reader insert #fanfic #bakugo x reader #wafflefriesfic

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dlscenarios · 16 hours

Text

Kiss It Better: Extended Version

Chapter III.

Disclaimer: Spoilers for Valhalla & Tenjiku Arcs. Again, this is cross-posted and I don’t have much experience with writing angst or multi-chapter fics. Feedback is appreciated.

ICYMI -> Chapter I Chapter II

The evening started like any other. Despite it being Halloween, you went about your usual routine. Mikey had warned you that his gang would be participating in another brawl and suggested that you stay up late and wait for him or his friends to come brandishing their inevitable injuries. With your schedule cleared, you sat around, waiting for one of the boys to show up at your door.

The sky had turned dark when you finally heard a knock. Racing to the door, you opened it to reveal Manjiro's face covered in blood. You attempted to hide the way your body jolted at the sight of him. While he had come to you with an alarming amount of bruises or bleeding scratches before, this was more than you were used to seeing from him. You didn't know if you should be praying that it was someone else's blood or not.

You quickly ushered him to your bathroom and got out your well-loved first aid kit. After gingerly wiping the bucket of blood off of Mikey's face, you got to work in covering his open wounds with bandages. You were too absorbed in your task that you failed to notice the distant look in his tired eyes or the tight grip he had on something in his fist.

Manjiro was eerily silent this night. Usually, you wouldn't be able to shut him up, but he had yet to say anything since you had greeted him at the door.

When you reached for his hands, prepared to examine his busted knuckles, you finally noticed that he was holding something. You looked up at him, puzzled, before he turned his hand over. Resting in his palm was a beat-up purple omamori. The threads of its casing were frayed, exposing the aged paper's deteriorating edges. You furrowed your brows, confused on why he was carrying it. If it had been for good luck during the fight, he could have kept it in his pocket.

"It's Baji's." His voice was raspy and quiet as he spoke for the first time that night. "He wanted Toman's founders to have it."

"Why? He's a founder too."

Mikey refused to look at you, opting to gaze emptily at the trinket. He gulped before whispering, voice cracking against his will, "Baji's dead."

Your face fell, heart sinking into your stomach as your grip tightened on the bloodied rag in your hand. "...What?"

Manjiro straightened his stance. "Baji left Toman to be a spy. He wanted to protect us. He..." He huffed, "... He killed himself to protect us." He paused to hold up the omamori by its string with a bittersweet smile. "He got this the day we formed Toman. He kept it all these years."

You stared down at the trinket solemnly. Baji was only thirteen years old. He was a child. He had his whole life ahead of him, yet if Mikey was telling the truth, he gave it up for the people he cared about. The thought alone made you sick.

"Baji..." Your lip quivered as you breathed his name. Manjiro watched tears well up in your eyes as your chest heaved. Suddenly, you lunged into him, throwing your arms around his torso. Mikey's free hand rested on your back, the one cradling the omamori going limp at his side. He could feel tears of his own threatening to spill but swallowed them down, instead leaning his head into yours, nose in your hair. He could feel you sobbing into his chest, he didn't wish to burden you more. You needed comforting more than he did.

The rest of the night was all too similar to when Shinichiro had died. The only differences were that you were the one crying and Mikey had spent the night at your house. You shared the same bed again, but all that Toman's tough leader could do was lay awake and stare at the ceiling. He briefly glanced to your sleeping form, curled up beside him. Manjiro pursed his lips and rolled onto his other side. The adrenaline of the fight had worn off.

You thought that things would change after losing Baji. You thought that Mikey would take precautions to prevent the unnecessary deaths of anyone else. Unfortunately, you were wrong.

Months passed in the blink of an eye and a new storm had begun to brew. Toman was in the midst of their biggest battle. You weren't aware until it was too late.

You had been at home, lounging around when you received a call from an unknown number. When you answered, the voice of Toman's crybaby — "Takemitchy" as Mikey had called him — rang out. He sounded apprehensive, asking if you could come to the hospital.

"Something happened to Emma..."

He greeted you at the entrance of the floor he had told you to go to.

"Where's Emma?" You panted frantically.

His face dropped, shoulders slack. "I'm sorry..."

You looked passed him to see Manjiro slumped in one of the waiting room chairs. You pushed passed Takemichi and bounded over to your friend, sliding onto your knees before him. "Manjiro!" His face was gaunt as he lifted his head. It was like he was a shell of the boy you had grown so close to, remaining expressionless as you grabbed his hand.

A sudden loud thud caused you to jump and whip around. Draken, Toman's vice captain, had punched the wall he was now facing, balled up fists trembling as he fell to his knees. You knew he had feelings for Emma, you also knew that his feelings were requited. You were the only one Emma could gush to about her brother's best friend, despite how everyone except the pair themselves could see how lovesick they were. Mikey had shared to you how he had dreamed of his sister and best friend getting married and having a family of their own. If only the two would confess.

You turned back to Mikey and gently cupped his face, thumb softly trailing along his cheek. Takemichi approached you, causing you to look up at him.

"Kisaki did it. He killed Emma."

While you didn't know who Kisaki was — you assumed the boys did — why would he kill Emma? She wasn't involved in the gang's drama. The only connection she had to it was being her brother's sister. Was it an attack on Mikey?

Drowning out Takemichi's ramblings of revenge, Mikey's cold hands silently lowered yours from his cheeks. You lifted one up to press a soft kiss to his knuckle. It wouldn't bring back Emma, but you hoped it would at least remind him that you're still by his side. Vacant eyes stared down at you, unblinking as your thumb gently rubbed the top of Manjiro's hand. The room was still aside from the choked sobs from Draken behind you.

With a lack of response from your friend, you turned your head to rest on Mikey's thigh. After getting situated, you tensed at the sudden feel of a hand on your head, their fingers hesitantly fiddling with your hair as you hugged Manjiro's leg.

Manjiro was your best friend, yet here he was with his life falling apart right in front of him. He had lost both of his siblings and one of his closest friends in the span of a few years. The teenager couldn't even breathe without someone he cared about getting ripped away from him. You were starting to feel a little useless. Manjiro trusted you, yet all you could do was sit by and watch haplessly as he decays.

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cinnamonest · 1 day

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how do you think goro would feel about a childhood friend!darling?

Goro Akechi has a lot of hate in that heart of his, but other than the man he hates more than anything, there are two other things he hates the most: lack of control, and vulnerability.

He needs control over situations, over people, and when he can manage it, over the course of fate itself. The Metaverse and years of hard effort into a public persona he wears so flawlessly have granted him the sort of control he desires, for the most part.

He hates to be vulnerable, hates his own weaknesses, hates them being perceived by others.

You present both.

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him. Really, up until the point you saw his name on screen one day, you admittedly remembered him as ‘that sad boy at school I was nice to when we were little,’ and your memories of him had all but faded into the background of your life, never thinking of him much after that until he pops back into your life.

At first, you think it can’t be the same person, surely. At least until the familiar — albeit aged a bit older than in your memories — face comes on the screen. It feels quite surreal. A drastic shift from the little boy you remember angrily sulking on the playground all by himself away from the other kids, whom you admittedly talked to mostly out of pity. Still, you felt like you bonded in the end, before he got whisked away when the relatives fostering him decided to dump him off onto someone else, thus forcing him to transfer schools.

You’re happy for him. He looks very happy now, you think, his situation must have improved. He’s even living in the city now apparently, just like you.

The positive coincidences stack atop each other when you actually get to see him.

Completely by chance, not seeking him out or anything, you just so happen to be walking home on an uncrowded street, and he just so happened to be coming back from a hit, now as normalized and mundane to him as any other work-related task — and you just so happen to meet right as you each turn a corner, perfectly scenic, as if ordained by fate.

And while Goro Akechi has spent a very long time by now perfecting the art of composure, what he sees takes him so far aback that even he lets the mask momentarily slip — completely freezing up, slack-jawed and stiff with shock and disbelief. There’s a moment where only silence passes, he looks at you like he’s seeing a ghost, an expression almost like horror managing to escape his automatic efforts to keep a straight face.

You don’t notice that part. You’re too caught up in the surprise and elation, gasping and smiling and rambling on about what a coincidence it is, and—

Do you remember me…?

The shock only lasts a split second. The composure is back, the mask pushed back into place, and with practiced mastery of charm, he bounces back near instantly.

Even in spite of the sudden onslaught of emotions and memories that feels like his very soul is being stabbed at, he manages to keep up the usual Prince-Charming act of his. Says the lines expected of him, so standard you could probably guess them before they come out of his mouth — wow, long time no see, what a coincidence, it’s good to see you, how have you been, all the generic phrases and lines one should say, just like the ones you provide in return. A back-and-forth dialogue predetermined by conventions and standards of normalcy and expectation as composed by a given social framework in which all humans live. You do mention that you’ve seen him on TV — for some reason, it makes his stomach feel like its twisting, but he gives you a humble-sounding reply all the same.

All as his heart pounds so heavily it feels like it’s going to burst though is chest. Adrenaline surges thought his veins and every nerve on his body feels like it’s frozen over, an ice-cold chill that runs through his blood, a ringing in his ears, even a lightheadedness that begins to take hold, his entire body reacting in shock and panic.

You fetch a piece of paper from your bag, scribble something down, hand it over to him — his own hand moves reflexively, as if out of his control, to take it. A series of numbers — oh. Your contact. You’re smiling now, saying something about how you would love to catch up sometime. Your voice sounds far away, his head feels like it’s spinning, but he still manages his signature soft smile and voice as he gives you yet another generic reply.

Sure, that would be wonderful.

A few more lines back-and-forth that he doesn’t even remember by the end of the day, his brain essentially giving replies on an auto-pilot means of conversation. He manages to make some excuse about work, churns out a farewell, briskly walks off with a noticeably deliberate fast pace.

You feel a little embarrassed, as you walk home. He seemed in a hurry to end the conversation. Perhaps it was presumptuous to give him a contact. He probably couldn’t care less. He’s a big, important person now, someone like that has no time for someone like yourself.

…

Your suspicions are more or less validated. He doesn’t contact you.

In fact, from the moment he gets home that day, he tries to forget the interaction entirely.

There’s multiple reasons why. For one, you present a potential obstacle, a burden, a risk. He can’t afford to have you complicating things, getting in his way. It takes some time for his heart to stop racing, and that alone irritates him — why do you get to have such a reaction from him, beyond his control?

Moreover, the emotions that hit him when he saw you were too much. Dangerously intense, something he can’t allow to weigh on him, doesn’t have the time to focus on.

To be frank, those emotions were largely negative anyway. The mere sight of your face stirs up all sorts of memories from that era of his life, most of which were deeply unpleasant. There’s a deep-rooted bitterness that rises up in his stomach, old emotions he’s worked so long to suppress, and you came and dug them up in just a few brief minutes. In truth, he thought about you very often back then — he never really got to say goodbye to you (even if, he often bitterly thought, you never cared that much about him anyway), and he had to force himself to forget you over time, and yet you’ve come and undone his efforts.

And finally — the thought of you makes him feel a new emotion, one he does not like. Something like anxiousness, fear, and in turn, anger at himself and you alike for inducing such a feeling. You stand as a sort of weakness, a single unstable factor in a world where he feels like he has some degree of a grasp of control on nearly everything — you feel uncertain, unsteady, out of his reach… no, it’s not just that. You feel unsafe. You have knowledge and memories of him that no one else does, you have seen him at his weakest, and that makes him feel far more vulnerable then he can stand.

And yet, he saves your number to his phone all the same. Lets it sit there.

Most of the time, it’s easy to ignore. He is a busy person, he can keep himself distracted. Sometimes, though, in the odd hours of the night when his emotions are at their peak, he types a message, two, a dozen, he loses count — only to shake his head and come to his senses, huffing in frustration and holding the backspace down until it’s all deleted, cursing himself internally for even coming close to doing something so foolish.

You keep coming up in his thoughts, an emotion he can’t pretend is anything but yearning feels like a knot in his chest, yet the very thought of you makes him feel sick to his stomach. The conflict between the emotions is unbearable, makes him lose sleep, makes him lose focus.

You who knew him when he was this quiet, sullen, embittered child — you were nice to him, one of the only people who showed him genuine kindness back then — you who certainly knows that the charming act in front of the cameras is merely that, an act, a mask, a lie. It feels as if playing a game with one’s own cards facing outwards towards the opponent, completely exposed, laid bare. The act can’t work on you when you know what he’s really like, know his pains and vulnerabilities, have the potential to strike at the weakest parts of him.

Nor do you fall under his realm of control. The means he has for control relies on his ability to enforce it — means to kill and ruin lives. What he wants from you, though — at least, what he wanted from you back then, he won’t let himself even consider the matter now — falls entirely out of the realm of how he likes to control people, the usual purpose for which he desires the manipulation of others — power, advancement in his goals, to snake his way inside to strike.

It's all confusing. Irritating. It's outside the realm of what he has an easy way to manipulate, and that means he's at a disadvantage, that you have an upper hand, and he can't stand for that.

Still, he wonders about you. Every time a camera faces his way, he wonders if you’ll see the filming. When he makes posts to the little page he runs that the fans eat up, he wonders if you visit it too, if you’re one of those thousands of faceless followers. He wonders how often you think about him. He wonders about the day the two of you ran into each other for the first time in so long — did you go home, and look him up online? How long did you spend doing so? What did you read? Did your view of him change, positively, negatively?

And of course, he thinks about you and your life. What have you been up to, since then? Where has your path in life taken you? You probably have friends. You probably have a partner too. You’re someone who always seemed to be loved by others — he still recalls perfectly the burning bitterness in his stomach when he saw your happiness, your family, your friends, the things you had that he did not. How he resented you for it — he still does, even if he tries to tell himself such emotions are childish. Sometimes he almost thinks he hates you, even if in the end he always finds that he can’t.

And worst of all, he finds that the mere thought of you changes how he behaves.

When he’s at a lower-end news outlet interview, he doesn’t put quite as much energy in… until it occurs to him that there’s always a chance you’ll see it, and he finds himself sitting up straighter, putting in more effort into being charming and witty for the camera.

He almost says something in another interview, but it occurs to him that he doesn’t know how you feel on the matter, and he finds himself taking what was originally a strongly-worded response in his head and neutralizing it as much as possible, to avoid upsetting you should you see it and disagree with him. He doesn't even realize it until the words are out of his mouth.

You do that to him. He who has come to think of himself as so far above others, and yet you — some child from long ago who just so happened to find him again and speak to him for no more than a few minutes — influence his actions, you consume his thoughts. You control him, and you don’t even know it, nor did you have any intention to. And even though he recognizes it, even though he tries to put it to rest and forget you entirely, he can’t bring himself to do it, can’t tap the screen to delete the contact.

It’s infuriating. He can’t stand it. The fact that you do what you do to him so effortlessly leaves him seething and stewing in a rage you probably don’t even realize he’s capable of. And that much he’s acutely aware of as well. You know more of the “real” him than anyone else, you saw him in a phase when he was always pouty and melancholic — yet even then, you don’t know the half of it, don’t realize just how much malice and fury rests beneath the calm outward surface, nor how deep it runs.

He’s not a delusional sort, he’s very self-aware, and he knows how ridiculous the thoughts he’s having are — yet he has them anyway. It’s what, three in the morning, and here he is sitting on the edge of is bed, hunched over in the dark with his face in his hands, stewing in bitterness because he just can’t stop thinking about you. Yes, he knows the thought is absurd, yet he allows it anyway — allows himself to blame you, to resent you for it as if it were an intentional act on your end, to think of you as audacious, having committed some grand transgression against him.

He’s a celebrity, a genius, he has powers unfathomable to the average person — and here you are, you’re nobody, making him think about you. The more he gives in and allows himself to slip into that way of thinking, regardless of how nonsensical he knows it is, the angrier and angrier he gets, the greater the malice that swells in his chest—

—and the darker his thoughts become on what to do with you.

If he forces himself to think it through reasonably, of course, he realizes that you’ve done nothing wrong, that you’ve been nothing but kind to him, and maybe, just maybe, a part of him even feels guilty for any unwholesome, sinister thoughts run through his head — you don’t deserve anything bad to happen to you, and he’s being embarrassingly childish for such boorish, overly-simplistic thoughts like keeping you and taking you away and hurting you and making you pay. Particularly the last — you’ve done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve any harm, and in the rational part of his mind, he knows this.

But if he were to allow those petulant feelings to take over…

If he let the irrational resentment and yearning and attachment and bitterness take over, if he stopped being rational about it, if he just acted on impulses and feelings alone, then he would have something to make you pay for. To make you the object of all the negative emotions that plague him, make you an outlet for his crippling desperation and rage and affection and covet and pain and misery and yearning — yes, he could put all those emotions into you, unload that burden and force you to take it off his shoulders, force you to be something for him to have to himself and use for his own desires and ease of his pain like he always wanted back then.

Maybe he never stopped wanting that, even if he forced every thought of you to the back of his mind for so many years. It was easier to deny the yearning when he could tell himself he would never see you again. He doesn't have that to hold him back anymore — he stares at the screen of his phone that burns his eyes in the darkness, knowing contact with you is a few mere taps away.

But even back then, he wasn’t so stupid as to not realize you interacted with him because he was pitiful and pathetic and obviously troubled and you were the sort of sweet person that went out of your way to be nice to such other children. He was acutely aware of that fact, it irritated him then, it irritates him now. Yet he latched on like a leech anyway, a fact that makes his face feel hot with embarrassment when he recalls how his child self clung to you so strongly, so pathetically. He couldn’t help it. He was so weak, back then.

But here he is, spending hours of his time thinking about you — can he really say he’s less weak to you now?

It’s not as if it’s the first time he had dark thoughts regarding you. Of course, he envied your life back then, but far more than that, he envied you. To have you to himself, as if an object from which he derived happiness that should be just for him. How upset he was when you were kind to people who weren’t him, spent time with others. Even back then, as a child, you have no idea the sort of things he crafted in his head, elaborate fantasies where everyone important to you died off somehow so he could have you all to himself. Fantasies that soothed both his bitterness for you and his desire for you — let you feel pain like he had felt, make sure you couldn’t think yourself better than him, while still ending up something all for him alone to have and enjoy for himself, ensure your kindness was just for him.

Only back then, he had no power to act on such fantasies.

Now…

…

...And one night, his resistance finally breaks.

You know what? Maybe he does deserve that. After all the effort he’s put in, after all the things he’s endured, maybe he does deserve to have something all for himself, something he truly wants, something he can secure and know with certainty won’t ever leave his side — you can’t if you don’t have the option.

Maybe you’ll hate him for it. Maybe he’d deserve it if so. But if you do, well, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

His fingers move without having to really think much about it. Generic, typical lines, just like when he spoke with you. Apologizing for the delay, but surely you understand he’s busy and all, so on and so on. He only pays attention to the very last line, as his fingers slow down in their typing with nerves and anticipation.

>Would you still be up for getting together sometime?

#can you tell i enjoyed this lol #but yeahhh i feel like goro is incapable of NOT harboring some degree of negative emotions for a beloved because thats just. who he is #he loves you but he cannot express that to save his life and has so much negativity pent up #so he just makes you an outlet for every emotion he feels which is. not good #.persona

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