#i know the times were completely different back then

[randomshyperson]

The Bed Issue - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Another retake of Wandavision, this time, the scene with the two single beds.

Warnings: (+18) pure smut, enchanted strap, fingering, creampie, wanda is in charge but r tops, dirty talking, some typical Westview angst (brief reality alteration) but purely sinful | Words: 3.284k

A/N-> At this point, I feel I should start a new collection with all the scenes I rewrote. I miss writing series people, where are my ideas. Also, sorry if there are too many spelling errors, I wrote this on my phone (it's hard to be poor and busy). But good reading!

General Masterlist | AO3

-&-

The sign of two single beds in the room made you giggle right away.

Wanda, who walked in first, looked back at you with curiosity. Her gaze scanned your face as she asked: “What's funny, darling?”

Your eyes found her and a deep sigh escaped your lips, the ghost of that giggle still present in your expression. 

“The beds, Wanda.” You replied quickly, almost offended she couldn't see the absurdity of that. Maybe she was playing innocent. Or at least, that's what her confused gaze looked like. Another sign escaped you. “Why would a married couple sleep on different beds, side by side?”

“Well, I…” but she cut herself mid-sentence, her gaze shifted as if she realized that really didn't make any sense. “I guess you're right.”

The bed moved as quickly as her fingers - the wood jumping to the side to connect and transform into one bed. You smile, moving forward to kiss your wife's cheek.

“Lovely tricks as always, darling.” You praise, catching the soft color rising up her skin before you step to the bathroom. But you comment again, giggling: “How odd that was, two beds.”

Distracted by your own joke, you didn't catch Wanda's shoulder tension. And she could only force a smile, giving a quick gaze at your figure brushing your teeth while mentality praying that for the sake of her poor heart, you wouldn't notice any other weirdness tonight.

-&-

A stupid tree.

A stupid tree branch against the window and things got out of hand completely. At least this time, in a good sense of things.

That is because Wanda found herself pressed into the bed, giggling at our bold hands under her clothes.

She remembers this teasing all too well. Beyond the sexual tension, and the teenage hormones, there was intimacy. You could always make her laugh, no matter the situation. Often, you would do that in inappropriate ones that's for sure. Just for the satisfaction of making her blush deeply when apologizing to whoever was around to testify you making a mess out of her. And then when in a situation like tonight, where it was too hard to breathe and too warm for a coherent thought - teasing fingers where she had tickles was the perfect way to ease her anxiety. To anchor her back and remember it's just you. Her best friend. Warming your way around her skin.

But things were a little - a lot - different in Westview. Neither of you knows why or how, or better saying, Wanda knew to a different extent than you.

When she brought the covers up your bodies, taking the lead for the night and expecting to meet your eagerness to kiss her again, she was met with more giggles.

She stared down at your shiny eyes, leaning into the hand you brought to her cheek.

“It's too warm here.” You let her know softy, and yes, Wanda was quite aware. Kissing you was more than enough to heat her entirely, but doing this under the covers was a challenge. She could feel the sweat starting to drip. She was ready to say she didn't mind, maybe even kiss you to change the subject when you added: “Why would you cover us anyway, darling? There's no one watching.”

It was meant to be a joke, obviously. You don't know. You couldn't know. And your eyes were innocent and your smile was sincere and Wanda hesitated.

Your hand remains on her cheek, the caress never stopping.

“Did I say something wrong? Where did you go just now?” 

She went outside. Outside the hex, all the way to monitors transmitting her sitcom of a fake life. But not really. Because she didn't consciously know about any of this. Yet, some part of her mind did know, and all the TVs that once exhibited her little show, now hold a Stand By sign. 

Wanda was the one who threw the covers aside. The fresh air was well welcome but you're now distracted with the gorgeous woman moving to straddle your hips.

“You're right, there's no one watching.” She says with the same urgency she burst open your pajama shirt. You don't understand the rush, but she looks too pretty for you to disagree. And Wanda purrs at the sight of your naked skin, biting her lips like a naughty child. “I missed you.”

You chuckle breathlessly, some confusion in your eyes. “I was with you all day.”

She shook her head, deciding now to control her tongue. If she doesn't want you questioning, she needs to stop saying things like this. So she forces a smile, shifting against your hips in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I always miss my wife, I mean. Whenever she's not touching me.”

Even though you offer her a grin, there's a blush in your cheeks that goes down your chest and Wanda suddenly doesn't feel like talking anymore.

A feeling you two seem to share as you bring a hand to her face only to pull her down at you again. It's a heated kiss. With tongue and breathy whispers that turn her into needy sounds. 

Even without the covers, it's soon too hot to keep clothes on. 

You're the one who takes her nightgown off. Pulling down as your tongues dance together, until the item no longer hides the tits you started to play it. 

Wanda's eyes are tightly closed as your mouth sucks her nipple. Your hand plays with the other while she struggles to breathe. 

Her top needs to go, but so does all the other clothing. The nightgown barely reached the floor and you're already pulling at her soaked panties, eager to feel her inside.

“Need this off you now, witchy.” The nickname makes her gasp. You haven't used it until now and it has been way too long since she heard. Since you- 

No. No thinking about this, not now.

She forces herself back to the present, an easy task when she feels every inch of her skin burning with your touch. She needs to move away to take the item off but your hands hold her tight by the waist at the mere attempt of breaking apart.

She giggles breathlessly, aware of the new wave of wetness that dripped down with the feeling of your strong hands manhandling her back at her position, keeping her restless hips still. “But you said you wanted it off.” She tries to ration, receiving only a growl in return. The next second, when your hands shift, the item is torn off her without ceremony. 

“Hey! It was my favorite.” She pouts in protest but you merely give her a husky chuckle.

“I'm sure you can fix it.” Comes as a teasing answer that Wanda couldn't contradict even if she wanted to - all previous thoughts are gone when your fingers reach her front and penetrate between her warm folds without a warning. You groan at the delirious feeling of her pussy against your fingertips while Wanda whimpers at the ceiling, trying to get used to the sudden invasion.

“Fuck, you're so tight.” Your remark with a sultry voice against her ear. Wanda's arm circles your shoulder for some support while she feels the stretch of your fingers inside her. It's been a while since last time but dear God how she missed this. Her hips move on instinct and you have to chuckle at her impatience with herself. Your free hand moves to her lower back, caressing her skin while your fingers start to press your way inside her.

“Easy darling, I got you.” You guide, too deeply for her to give you any replies other than pleas and whimpers.  The position might not be the most comfortable for you but it's amazing to her. Wanda can grind down and ride your fingers as she pleases and you can feel how close she's coming to her climax so you don't dare to stop. Your thumb moves to her clit, circling the nerve and she nearly loses it. The bedroom lights start to flash with the build of this orgasm and you stare at her in amazement only to be rewarded with her gorgeous flushed face while she grinds into your hand in nearly despair.

“Fuck you're so beautiful.” You gasp, increasing the speed. The depth. Wanda breaks in a sob, her back arching. The first one is a charm. Your name is being screamed at the ceiling while you feel her wetness dripping down your hand. Unfortunately - or fortunately - it only makes you crave her more. She's still recovering from the intensity of this climax, all sweaty and flushed when you shift your hand. You're still inside her tight walls and your fingers start to pick up a pace again. She squeaks at the overstimulation, but her protest dies in your tongue sucking hers when you kiss her again.

Wanda's almost too distracted by the filthy of this kiss to notice how quickly her second climax is building - almost. There's a bite against your bottom lip that makes you groan when she breaks the kiss, unable to keep it up. Her hands grab at you for some grounding when she feels how close she is to come, stronger than the last time. You feel her nails piercing your skin when her orgasm washes over her and it's your time to moan at her ear.

Her body goes limp for a moment after this. It was two intense orgasms in a row after all. She just needs to take a breath. 

You move your fingers out, sucking them clean and murmuring satisfied at her taste while Wanda struggles to recognize her surroundings.

When you can hold her with both hands again, you nuzzle at her cheek.

“Enjoying yourself, witchy?” You dare to tease her when she can feel how she's still leaking in your lap. Honestly, the nerve. Wanda let out a deep breath, pushing her momentarily tiredness away. 

There's an easy smile on her lips when she finds your eyes again. “I am but I've been so selfish.” She starts with a particular accentuation of her ascent that she knows you drive you insane. She also watches as your breath catches and your eyes drift to her lips, mesmerized by every word. “You must be needing me as well.”

But you tense at her nails screeching your belly, a worried frown coming at your expression.

“Wanda… my powers.” The fear in your eyes is like a cold buck of water. Oh, yes, she forgot.

For the whole day, she forgot you had no idea of the life you two shared. Nothing outside Westview and this lovely fantasy. None of the creative ways you two once used to bypass the super strength issue. Your fear and hesitation at hurting her made perfect sense but the fact that she was the only one who could remember the whole history you two shared was still painful. Her expression probably gave her away and confused you even more. “I promise you this is more than enough for me. Bringing you pleasure is enough.” You add gently, but Wanda shakes her head, leaning in to kiss you. She leaves you breathlessly before breaking apart, taking some pride in the way you're blushing.

“Don't be silly, darling, there's plenty of things for us to do together. To please one another.” You gulp at her words and tone of voice, eyes following all of her movements. From the shift of her hips to the teasing of her fingers on the way down your pants. “I wanna try something I think you'll love it. Do you trust me?”

You nod immediately, watching as Wanda's fingers play with the hem of your pants. She giggles naughty at your anticipation and brings one finger up to your chin, to make you look at her eyes again. 

“Can you use your words?”

“Y-yeah.” You swallow, trying to win some composure back. It's not easy when Wanda Maximoff is naked and sitting on your tight. But you smile anyway. “Of course I trust you, witchy.”

She smiles at you, her eyes flashing a glimmer of naughtiness that makes your heart leap. You can't worry too much about that anyway - Wanda leans in to kiss you again. And it's the dirtiest one of the night. She takes the lead, pulling back now and then just to tease your tongue with the tip of hers, reveling at the way you pant and struggle to keep your hips still. 

But suddenly, you feel the new pressure inside your pants. The odd sensation shifts your attention entirely but Wanda brings her hands to your neck and kisses you hard. You moan into her tongue, hands holding her tight by the waist until her spell is complete. She presses down into you and the kiss is broken with your needy awareness.

“F-fuck, is that…?” You open surprised and aroused eyes at her, looking down where your middles connect only to watch Wanda's equal affected state. Her trembling hands reach down at your pants, trying to pull the garment off.

“Yeah, and I really need you inside now, alright baby? Think you're ready for me?” Her words are rushed as her fingers. Your pants and underwear are stuck in an awkward position on your thighs because Wanda is too impatient to wait another second. She grabs the hardness - barely giving you time to get used to the image or more important the feeling - of that scarlet strap magically placed there - before she sinks down.

It's a form of revenge, maybe. For the way you didn't give her time to prepare before, but what a sweet revenge that was.

The nearly animalistic grunt that escaped you when Wanda's cunt squeezed around you was a sound you didn't know you could make. She, on the other hand, rewards your ears with a pleasant deep moan while she adjusts to the fullness. There's also a new stretch. The toy is obviously larger than your fingers and goes deliciously deeper so Wanda needs to take a deep breath while she welcomes you in.

To her delight, not that you can remember this, but just like the first time you two tried, it's too much of a new overwhelming pleasure for you to handle. You came almost the same second you're bottom up. Tensing and shaking at the new feeling. You gasp, hands falling at the sides to grab the sheets that are torn apart while you hide your face into her neck and your climax washes over you.

Wanda giggles in amusement. The hot shot inside her feels as good as she remembers and you haven't changed. But the toy softening causes you to panic.

“S-sorry, god, I'm so sorry. I don't-”

“Shh, it's okay.” She cuts your anxious babbling immediately, firming her legs around you and bringing her hands to hold your cheeks. “I know it feels like a real one, but it's not a real one.” She says and without any warning, grinds down at you, stealing all the air of your lungs. Wanda bites her lip before adding “See? You're hard again already.”

You can't give her words. The only thing that leaves your mouth is a whine that makes her clench around you. 

Suddenly, she's moving. Rough grinding before she's undeniably riding your strap and it's dirty and maddeningly sexy so your hands hold her hips and help her when her body starts to betray her wishes to keep going. 

“Oh, Wanda, you feel so nice.” You moan with your eyes closed, outside the shared grunts and your words, the only sounds of the room are the bed creaking and the soaked toy coming in and out of her. Your lovely wife decides to give you a reason to be louder. Her hands push you back at the bed and now you can see her in all of her glory. Her pretty tits bounce with the hard pace she takes on top of you. “W-wait. Easy, I can't hold it if you-” 

Her hands move yours - trying to slow her by the waist - away, locking your fingers together at each side of your head. Her hair makes a curtain for your faces but Wanda kisses you again. Your tongues are still moving together when you come first. 

Because you're strong - stronger than her that is - scarlet magic holds you still, wrists and ankles when Wanda can't. She holds her climax just a little longer, enough to put on a show for your breathless figure under her when you are able to look up at it. 

It's divine when it occurs - The silent scream, her frown before the blissed worn-out expression. The flags of the light, the room vibrating and her eyes bright red before the dark green meets your gaze again.

She smiles down at you, still shaking but somehow ready for another.

“Enjoying yourself aren't you, Avenger?” she repeats your words from before, but the nickname so often used for teasing makes you frown in confusion.

“What is…? But she changed that before you could finish the question. 

As quickly as it happened, the scene shifted as if the words never left her lips. You were staring at her, with uneven breathing and adoring eyes.

“Is this really necessary?” For a second, her heart leaped in fear. The possibility that you could tell she altered things. But your gaze shifted to the magic holding you still, and you offered her a pleading stare. “Won’t you let me touch you?”

Wanda sighs, adjusting your hips and seeing the way your jaw tenses at the slight movement. You're still inside her, always magically stimulated to be hard no matter how many times you come. It made sense that you might be sensitive.

She bit her bottom lip, hands resting on your chest.

“But you look so pretty like this…” She starts, leaning in as if going for a kiss. You sigh as her lips meet your cheeks instead, closing your eyes when you feel her smiling before moving down. “I like having you at my mercy.”

You hum, somewhat distracted by her soft grind against you. If you're hard again, that's not only the magic to blame but Wanda's warm pussy squeezing you still.

“But I'm like this all the time.” you joke earning a husky giggle before she puts some distance between your faces again.

You let out a deep sigh when she pulls out the next second, catching her own soft groan at the emptiness. But your words fail you when you look down and see the mixed cum leaking from her and dripping down your abs.

Cursing under your breath a single “fuck.” at the image, you are not surprised at Wanda's naughty giggle.

“You made such a mess, babe.” She teases, the toy still vibrating and it occurs to you that it doesn't just answer to your arousal, but hers as well. 

“Me? You're the one who, you know… ride it. I didn't even know I would come through it.” You tried to defend yourself with rosy cheeks but Wanda is clearly teasing you. She giggles again, adjusting herself and causing you to shut up immediately. 

“I think you should stop babbling and start cleaning your mess.”

You swallow hard when you realize she's still moving. Up towards your face. The bed makes a strong crack sound when you use all your strength to pull your hands free from her magic chains.

Wanda allows you to break free. Mainly because she loves to feel your hands holding her thighs open when you eat her out.

Some old habits never die.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff oneshots #wanda maximoff smut

[afterglowsainz]

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham one shot #real madrid x reader #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x y/n #football #football one shot #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jb5 #jb10 #jude bellingham gif

[laneywrld]

Oh Baby | part three

third and final part.

word count: 8.6k

Warnings: tame(er) smut. Pregnancy sex. childbirth.

progress is made, all thanks to your hormone gremlins.

It's safe to say everyone's favorite duo was back like they never left,  just with a lingering air of sexual tension and babies in the oven. 

You were never good at holding water, which is why you told your family and friends about it the very same night. Your friends were the most excited you'd ever seen them, and that was before you even mentioned who the father was. 

When Miles questioned who the father was with a meek voice interrupting said celebrations, Lewis stepped forward with a cocky smirk and a pep in his step that made you want to kick the back of his legs in. 

Instead, you gently motioned to Lewis with your arm thrown out. 

You'll never forget your friend's reactions like a scene from a telenovela; they all gasped dramatically and clutched their pearls. "Oh, I'm going to beat everybody's ass; why didn't we know y'all were together?"

"We are NOT together." You interrupt.

"So fucking?" Miles pipes up, and you feel like you are on stage with a literal spotlight directed at you, with the way they are all intently observing you, including Lewis.

"Not fucking either." You deny, slapping Lewis' arm as to say, help me out here. He shakes his head at you, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"It was a one-time thing that we both agreed would never happen again. This is the consequence of our actions that night." You put your hands on your pudgier stomach. "Yay!" you cheer quietly.

Whit stands first, and with tears in her eyes, she throws her arm over your shoulder, pulling you into a hug. Mori stands after already having been emotional since the initial announcement. She saunters over with a coo of "Aww, mama bear," joining in on the embrace. 

Lewis' boys stand up, Miles put his hand out to Lewis for a dap and ends up pulling him into a hug. "One step closer." He chuckles gripping Lewis' shoulder as he steps back. 

Daniel grins, approaching Lewis with his arms open and ready, "I'm proud of you, brother." He congratulates them through his own wide grin. 

You turn to Lewis with your bottom lip poked out as your friends kneel around your tiny belly. It doesn't even really look like there's a child in there, but that doesn't halt your friends from gently caressing it.

You wipe away an unsuspecting tear as Miles coos gently to your stomach, "Hope you don't get your dad's forehead, lil man."

"She's a girl!" Whit scowls, mushing his face away from your belly.

"We don't know what it is, actually." Daniel returns Whit's actions, mushing her to the right as he emerges front and center.

Lewis, who had stood off to the side watching your friend's love on you and your unborn baby, steps to your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. He leaves a lingering kiss on your hairline before knocking Daniel over with his foot. 

"Don't call my child an it."

-

Your parents, on the other hand, were a completely different story.

Your full government name is shouted by your mother as she holds onto your dad for support. They both look like they've been shot, and the greater betrayal was that you were the one who pulled the trigger. "Oh, Lord in heaven, please!"

"Ma." You whine, "Don't look like that, guys."

Lewis parents are sat beside your own, his mom is eyeing you up and down a interested look dawning her face. When your dad wipes the suprise from his face he looks like he is beginning the five stages of grief. 

"My baby- I can't."

Lewis' mother slaps her ex-husband's thigh, motioning to the anxious look adorning their son's face. 

"Lewis," His mom all but shouts, "Are you the father?" It comes out in a squeal, one that has your parents pausing their dramatics and leaning forward in sync.

Lewis looks like a thief caught red-handed. And just as you looked to him for support earlier, he does the same to you. You shrug at him, throwing your hands into your pockets.

How does it feel to be thrown to the sharks?

He stutters for a while, so he avoids eye contact with your dad. When his father speaks up, his voice is demanding. "Be a man, Lewis, answer."

You almost feel bad watching as your guys' parents sit literally on the edge of their seats. Lewis has never felt more nervous in his life. Deciding to put an end to his misery, you close the distance between you two and intertwine your hands.

"The baby is mine," Lewis announces, and your family jumps up like they've won the lotto.

Unlike your friends, they don't rush to you guys; they rush to each other. Your mom and Lewis' mom bounce up and down as they hug, and like the annoying men your fathers are, they point at each other with wide grins on their faces before they are in each other's embrace as well.

You and Lewis face each other in perplexity.

He clears his throat, and you call out, "Umm, hello?"

"Aww, my baby," your mom cries, rushing to you with her arms held high. You still stare back at Lewis, and your face is set in bafflement as she presses her lips to your cheeks and then cups your belly. Your dad comes barreling through, quite literally pushing your mom out of the way, and he is enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug.

Your mom shouts your dad's name, whacking the back of his head, "The girl is pregnant. Be gentle."

He eases back and holds your face in his hands, eyes staring into you with such adoration that it makes you emotional all over again. "My baby is having a baby."

Choked up you see Lewis' parents loving on him in the same manner, you catch Anthony's eyes and he is unraveling himself from his son and pulling you into him. "I couldn't be any more happier, my girl." He talks quietly into your ear as he hugs you. 

As you talk to Lewis' mom, you see your dad and mom embracing Lewis, and you chuckle as he happily accepts their graces.

As time went on they just barely settled down.

"Oh please," you taunt. "You literally looked like you guys were ready to kill me." 

You watch on in puzzlement as they begin writing Facebook posts. 

"Yes, my darling." Your mother hums. 

"Before we found out Lewis was the father." His mom adds with a cheeky smile.

"So?" your dad motions between the two of you, relaxing comfortably on the loveseat. "How long has this been a thing?"

At your words, the grin is wiped from his face, "It's not."

"Have you defiled my daughter Lewis Carl Dav-"

"Dad!" you shout, groaning again as he turns to Anthony with an incredulity like no other. 

"So, maybe let's not do Facebook?" You suggest.

Lewis raises from beside you sauntering over to the dad couch, he sits on the arm of the chair beside your dad and talks lowly to them. You cannot hear what he says but by the way a grin covers the faces of the entire couch you know he's used his classic Hamilton charm on them.

He watches you as he speaks and shoots you a wink when he sees you trying to read his lips. 

"I think we're going to head back to our wing of the house." He announces and that's your cue to start lifting from the couch. 

You say your goodbyes, giving everyone smooches and welcoming the last of their congratulations. Lewis saunters over to you after doing the same and reaches for your hand. You graciously accept, waving one final time before he pulls you from the secondary house. 

"So how are we going to go about this?" You question as the two of you walk hand in hand.

"However you want."

"I don't like how you just agree with everything I say; give me some input; this is your child, too." You ensure, "I'm open to what you want as well."

"I want you to be close to me during the pregnancy. It'd make me feel better for sure." He hums.

"Can I ask how that'd work? You're going to be traveling for the season. I want to keep my job for as long as I can."

"I want you to be stress free, I meant what I said, I'll take care of anything you need. Please just- you don't have to quit forever; just let me take care of you while you're pregnant, at least."

He looks so concerned with the idea of you working that it has you reaching up to physically push the frown from his face. You stop in front of him and poke your finger on his face by the corner of his mouth.

"Stop pouting," you instruct, "I work for my dad, after all. I think he'll understand."

He breathes a sigh of relief, grabbing your hand again as you start walking ahead of him.

"I also want everyone to know the baby's mine." He adds. "Unless you planned on keeping them out of the light, which I get-"

"Done." You cheese. "I'll let the world know you knocked me up, Sir Hamilton. More requests?"

"Move in with me."

You don't say anything as you turn to face him. The moon creates a glow around the two of you as you glance up at him. 

"C'mon, I purchased the house because you liked it anyway," he shrugs. "You're there more than me during the season; Roscoe loves having you there; I love having you there. Plus, you love it there."

You stare up at him with an admiration like no other. It has him turning his blushing face to the side.

"I did say it'd be the perfect home for a kid one day, huh?" You squeal, wrapping yourself around him, "I'm so excited!"

He lifts you with one arm like you weigh nothing, and you wrap your legs around his waist.

"I'm excited, too." He hums as he walks you into the primary home. The lights are all off as he carries you up the stairs and into your room. He plops you down onto the bed, crouching down to pull your slippers from your feet. 

"I can do that myself, you know? I'm not that pregnant yet." You huff.

"What kind of man would I be if I had my baby mama doing anything?" He smirks up at you.

"All it took was me carrying your child for you to be awfully sweet to me, would've fucked you sooner."

"Always sweet to you," Lewis smiles up at you, "gotta stop talking like that to me if you don't want me to get the wrong idea."

"Mhmm." You fall back into the bed.

Lewis crawls onto the bed beside you, laying his head against your stomach; he pokes you, making you jump.

"Stop it, I'm ticklish." You warn; he only smiles, nestling further into you. "There's a baby in here." His voice is so low you almost miss it. 

"Thank you." You express gently, rubbing your fingers through his braids. 

"For what?" utters Lewis as his palm rubs in circular motions against your belly. 

"For giving me everything I've ever wanted."

"I always will."

-

Whoever came up with the saying that distance makes the heart grow fonder was truly right. Although it was less than ideal, you and Lewis were back as if it had never happened. In fact, it's like the time you had away from each other forced you into the beautiful dynamic the two of you have now. Neither of you wanted to be without the other again.

It had been three months since your beautiful discovery, so that put you at a whopping five months pregnant.

Your belly was now noticeably bigger and rounder, much bigger than it would've been if Lewis' family didn't have a history of twins. And it was most definitely getting in the way of things, literally. 

You huff as you struggle to squat down low enough to lift the box of blankets you packed. Just as you feel yourself get a good enough grip on the box and you begin to lift Lewis is by your side wearing a disapproving scowl.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop trying to carry stuff out of here."

"Lewis," you huff, "It's literally just blankets."

"I don't care, sit down." He orders.

You stomp away from him, plopping down on the couch. He walks out of the front door and returns only moments later, waltzing into your kitchen.

He appears again with a plate full of orange slices, and you sigh as he approaches you.

"Lewis, there's only so many orange slices I can take in a day, buddy."

"The doctor said oranges are a good snack for month five," he pouts, "my kids need vitamin C."  

"Trust me, belly's fine."

Almost like they can sense the presence of food, they kick at you, and you, still not used to the sensation, cup your stomach in a gasp.

"Mhhm," Lewis disapproves, "feed my babies." He is setting the plate of fruit in your lap, bending quickly to peck your stomach. "I have a few more boxes to help them load and then I'll be taking you home, okay."

You can only offer him a puffy smile, your cheeks filled with fruit. He chuckles leaning over to ruffle your hair and he's pulling your forehead to his lips pressing a chaste kiss there before he's walking towards the stack of boxes.

You dreamily sigh, watching his glistening tatted back contract as he lifts the heavy mass. 

These fucking babies were turning you into a horny mess. 

It was the second week of June. A week later than the deadline, you promised Lewis that you'd move into his home. Well, your home now, too.

It was safe to say that Lewis meant business. You had spent the last few months bouncing from country to country, attending every race with him and basking in the free time with each other, which he had before and after races. 

When you opted to skip the Canadian Grand Prix under the pretense that you would go home to oversee the movers, he hesitantly drove you to the airport the day before qualifying. 

But when you got home and your preganacy brain got to you, you realized you scheduled your movers for the wrong saturday. You could've sworn Lewis was having a panic attack with the way he was in hysterics over the facetime call as you explained your situation.

He had booked himself a very late flight after his race and appeared at your doorstep with an armful of plant-based treats and a carton of strawberry fro-yo. "It's good for the babies." He smiled sheepishly as he rushed in. 

And here you were now, big and bored, spread across the couch as Roscoe snuggled into your side. You don't remember falling asleep next to your furry friend, but as Lewis gently shakes you awake with an adorable twinkle in his eyes you can't even be bothered to be irritated.

"Hey, mama," he coos. "You ready to head out?"

You nod, still groggy, swinging your legs over the couch and preparing to stand. Lewis catches you off guard as he swoops you into his arms, carrying you bridal style with ease. He calls for Roscoe as he slips through the front door. 

He opens the passenger side door of his car and sits you down softly, reaching over you to grab the seatbelt. And he's so close to you that it has your heart hammering when his hand swipes against your chest to pull at the belt. 

"I'll be back in a second, going to lock up here."

He smirks as he closes the door and you see him taking his precious time to make it back into your former home. 

You were no fool; truthfully, you were fully aware of the sexual tension that hung between you and Lewis since the night of his birthday. 

There were lingering touches and gazes that you were sure were sexually charged. You've even noticed Lewis' impure reactions to you, and it made your brain race with questions.

The driver's side door opening drew you from your thoughts as Lewis appeared this time covered in a white tee. You will away your disappointment and reach for his phone to play some music. When you do you see a message from a saved contact.

Marie

Isn't it about time for you to come see me again?

"You've got a message." You tell him nonchalantly even though your heart aches.

"From who?"

You try to hand him the phone, but he waves it off, reversing the car. "Can you read it to me?"

"Marie, she says, and I quote, Isn't it about that time for you to come see me again? You late to a link, Lew?" You laugh even though there isn't shit funny to you.

"You can block her." He declares casually. 

"Huh?"

"Block her for me." He orders, but he still hasn't turned to look at you. "She was just someone I saw when I was in Canada."

"Lewis, you don't have to end your fun on my account; I'm the pregnant one. You do know that you don't have to."

"Yeah." He pushes out hoarsely. You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. In a way, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. Life with Lewis has felt so extra domestic lately. It was almost like the two of you were in a relationship, minus the physical affection. And even then, that physicality was there; you two just never kissed or, well, had sex.

You wondered if he felt it the same way you had.

But then the thought lingers in the back of your head: did he see her when you left to come home?

The way he was acting oddly uncomfortable with the conversation gave you your answer, and in the end, you couldn't fault him for it.

You do as he instructs, clicking Marie's contact and blocking her number, and then you continue on with your initial mission and scroll through Lewis' Spotify until you find music to your liking.

The rest of the drive is silent except for the soft melodies escaping his speakers.

When you pull into Lewis' driveway, he parks, turns off the car, and hurries to your side, opening the door before you even have the chance to do so. He opens the backdoor and holds onto your hand. "Roscoe, c'mon boy."

He leads you into the home like you haven't passed through the very same doors a million times before. 

"Which room did they move me into?" You question making your way upstairs.

"Oh," Lewis pauses, "I figured you'd be with me, in mine."

"Oh, okay."

You walk past him and further up the stairs as he trails behind you.

When you enter his room you beeline straight into his closet, well you guys' closet and sure enough there are more of your belongings taking up space. 

You stand on your tiptoes to reach for one of his tee shirts. He is behind you in an instant, one hand holding your hip firmly and forcing your feet back onto the ground. The other reaches up and grasps the shirt you had been aiming for. 

When you turn to take the shirt from him, he once again gives you the same disapproving gaze he'd given you earlier.

"Oh God, Lewis. I can't even get on my tiptoes anymore?" You question, pulling the shirt from his grasp.

"You could've tipped over." He argues, following you out of the closet. "You want a bath or a shower tonight?" He queries, already heading into the bathroom.

"A bath, please; my body is killing me." 

"Put this on," he orders, tossing you your robe. 

You strip from your shorts and tee-shirt throwing the robe on and waiting patiently for Lewis to emerge from the bathroom. 

When he does, he's shirtless, and the sweats are hanging low.

"I've got your bath running. Sit down," he orders, pointing to the bed. 

"Why?" you question, but you're already moving to the bed and plopping down. 

"Why do you question everything?" He chuckles. And he is slipping behind you in an instant, his hands instantly moving up to knead at your shoulders.

You can't help the moan you let out. "Fuck, that feels great. Thank you."

"It's the least I can do, letting my youngsters beat you up all day."

You can only chortle as his hands move along your back. 

"Gonna come out feisty, like you."

"I am not," you argue.

"yeah, okay." He whispers, his hands traveling lower and lower. His hands are gripping your sides firmly as his thumbs massage masterfully into your back.

"Fuck, Lewis." You mewl.

"Feels good?"

"Yeah." 

You almost cry as you feel him lifting behind you, but when he pushes you onto your back gently and cradles your legs, the whine in your throat is replaced with a nervous gulp. 

His hands caress your thighs, moving up and down expertly, and you bask in the comfort.

"I didn't sleep with her in Canada, never even saw her this year."

"Oh," you murmur with your eyes closed. On the outside, you were calm, but mentally, you were shrieking tears of joy. 

"Haven't been sleeping around." He announces again. 

When you say nothing, he persists, "Haven't been with anyone since you."

You know Lewis so well that you can predict his face even before you open your eyes.

His voice sounds a bit gravelly and shaky, and you know he's peering up at you through his perfect lashes, waiting to gauge your reaction. 

So when you open your eyes and see him hovering over your legs exactly as you imagined, you can only shoot him a purposeful smile.

"I figured. You've spent all of your time with me." You shrug. He nods relief washing over him. In all honesty he was happy that you recognized the switch in him. Recognized that all of his focus was soley on you and your unborn babies, who you've nicknamed belly. 

"Five months is a long time to go without sex." You declare, and he bobs his head to the side, 

"Not really, not for me. What about you?" 

He feels his heart leap with joy at your next words.

"I haven't slept with anyone else since you either. I've gone longer without sex, so five months would've been easier if I wasn't lugging around two hormone gremlins." 

You both share a laugh as you motion to your round belly. 

"You're suffering then?"

"Suffering like a motherfucker." You huff.

"I can fix that."

You sit up, coming face to face with him; he stares at you intensely. It was your idea, not to mention the night you two had shared, as well as your doing, to solidify the fact that you two would never sleep together again.

However, your emotions were running, and your hormones were at an all-time high, so could anyone really even blame you for pulling his mouth to yours in a searing kiss?

Like the time before, it's like Lewis is ready for you. He pushes you back down, his legs still holding him above you. This time, Lewis takes the initiative, spreading your mouth open and entering like it's home. One of his elbows is being used as leverage to hold him above your bump. His other hand has your jaw in a tight grip, holding you in place.

Your hands are exploring his body. Traveling the expanse of his chest to his back, anything you can reach. 

He disconnects his mouth from yours, his head turning towards the bathroom. "Shit, sorry."

He stands, shooting you a sorrowful look as he beelines into the washroom.

When he appears again, he is looking at you with hungry eyes, but his words are so domestic that you are ready to jump his bones.

"Made your bath too hot. Got time to let that cool down."

You smirk at him, beckoning him over. You're both sitting angled towards each other and just as you move forward to touch his lips with your own he is moving his head to the side forcing you to peck the corner of his mouth.

You lean back with furrowed brows. "What was that?"

"I want to clarify something first, this time. So we won't have a repeat of last time."

Damn, you scream to yourself. You were already extremely horny, and now you'd have to sit and listen to him declare that this was a means of pleasure only. Which in return would most likely turn you off. So yay, no life-altering dick for you tonight.

"Go on then." You wave your hand, and Lewis laughs.

"Patience, you horny beast." 

You gasp, thumping his head.

"But really, I, um, wanted to let you know this for a while. It's been on my mind even heavier since my birthday."

"Okay," 

"I love you." He blurts, "and not in the conventional friendship way, you're my best friend but I love you more than that. And I have for as long as I could remember."

You feel like you've been freed from hell's gates; everything in you feels so much lighter, so much more merrier. 

Like always, when Lewis tries to find the words to say, his head is tilted downwards to the side as he works through what to say. His heart is beating a mile a minute, and he can't find it in him to look at you quite yet. He has to say how he feels now, or he'll never say it.

"I'm the man I am today because of you. You've been with me every step of the way. You've never turned your back on me or gotten sick of me; you've been everything I've ever wanted from the beginning. I've tried to fill the void of not having you with other... distractions, should I say. And it never made me forget about you, never made me want you any less, always made me want you even more."

You choke up at his words. This was all you've ever wanted to hear spoken to you.

"I love you and I feel like I have ever since I've been able to have complex emotions. You are my childhood dream. Over the racing and the luxury lifestyle, over anything. I've always wanted you more than anything. I meant every word I said to you on my birthday, and I'm taking accountability now for the argument. I wanted to hear you say that you meant the words you said to me, like I meant the words I said to you. I should have just admitted it. But I didn't, and I was a fool; I regret it every day. But I love you all the same."

He peers up at you through his lashes and through his own teary eyes he can see the tears bubbling over the surface as you poke out your bottom lip in your classic pout.

"Oh, Lew," you whine, wrapping him in such a tender embrace. "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words."

He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, and you can feel wetness glide down your collar.

You grasp his head in your hands, cupping his cheeks so that you can see him eye to eye.

"I love you," you state. "More than the entire world, I've always told you that, and I've always meant it."

His lips twitch, and his eyes soften. Finally, he breaks into a smile. "How much I love you is unexplainable, Lew. I've been fighting myself forever about it, frustrated that I'd never see anyone like I see you. I've been settling because I thought I couldn't have you. You're all I've ever wanted. And I meant what I said that night, too. I was made for you and only you, always only ever been yours. No one has had my heart but you."

This time, the kiss is passionate and slow. You taste saltiness as you succumb to each other. You separate with a gasp, hand coming down to soothe your stomach. "They're beating me up again." You whisper, watching as their tiny feet nudge against your stomach.

Lewis bends down, pressing pecks to your bulging belly, "Think they're just celebrating."

You watch from above with a loving smile on your face. "My little family." You coo, bringing your hand up to rest in Lewis' hair.

"I'm going to marry you, you know that, right?" Lewis peers up at you. 

"I sure would hope so." And you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead. 

"They're not stopping." He announces, his hand covering your own on your belly.

"They always get excited when you're close to me." You admit. 

His eyes crinkle at your words, and his mouth spreads into a grin.

"I'm happy to be with you guys, too," he coos to your gut, "but we have to let Mama relax, okay." At his words, the thumps from inside of you come to a halt, and you and Lewis marvel at each other.

"Wow," you whisper.

"Come on." He is standing from the bed, holding his hand out for you. 

He helps you stand from the bed, gently pulling you into the bathroom.

When you're inside, he faces you towards the mirror. He unclasps the necklace sitting it onto the bathroom counter and slowly his hands travel to your front to untie your robe. It falls off of your shoulders and he proceeds to drag it down your arms and from your body.

You stare at him through the mirror with no shame as he trails his eyes along your body.

"Most beautiful woman in the world." He hums. You're standing in front of him naked as he reaches past you to drop your now discarded robe beside your necklace.

As he does so, he presses lingering kisses to your neck. 

He steps back, holding out his arm to direct you into the bathtub.

"Get in with me?" You suggest as you notice him standing off to the side. 

Lewis curses himself for feeling like a shy virgin around you every time you even remotely flutter your eyes at him. 

"Please." You add submerging yourself into the warm water.

Lewis slips from his sweats, easing into the tub at the other end.

"Remember when we used to have baths together as kids?" You reminisce, blowing a pile of bubbles at him.

Lewis leans back, his arms dangling over the edge. "Simple times."

"You remember when you pooped?" You tease, leaning forward.

Lewis splashes you a tiny bit, bubbles landing on your face. "That was you," he denied.

"Big fat liar." you cackled. 

Lewis sees you inching towards him like a tiger on the prowl. You're in his lap before he knows it, your arms locked around his neck. He wraps his own around your waist.

No more words are spoken between you two. You lift your soapy hand and tilt his head up to you, pressing your mouth to his.

Lewis groans into your mouth as you settle over him.

"Want you so bad." You confess, your lips trailing from his mouth to his jaw and down into the crevice of his neck.

Your hand reaches down between the two of you, and you smile against his skin as you grip him.

So hard already.

Lewis throws his head back against the porcelain as you wrap your hand around him in a snug grasp. 

You're in his ear saying some of the most obscene words he's ever heard as you sit on top of him, tugging him. He can feel your belly rubbing against his, and it's driving him mad.

"Want to make love? Can we do that, Lewis? Make it even better than the last time."

Lewis gasps out his words as you sit back on his legs and use both of your hands to twist and tug on him. He bites on his bottom lip and grips you tighter. "Fuck, yes. Please"

You can only smile at him as you observe his resolve crumbling. You don't stop even as he begins to spasm and continually moan out your name. He grunts one last time before it transforms into a fit of masculine whimpers. He literally falls apart in your hands as you massage him through his release. 

"Got another one in you?" You ask, already positioning yourself over him.

He opens his eyes, pupils blown and wild. And then his bitten and swollen lips spread into a dopey smile.

You give him a peck; widening said smile before you line him up at your entrance. The smile is wiped from his face as his facade once again contorts to one of pure pleasure.

You can only gasp and move your grip to his shoulders as you sink onto him inch by inch until you feel him nestled tightly into you.

"Fuck." He groans.

You ease your body up and down over him slowly, he's so fucking big.

You moan as you continue your slow pace. You want to take your time with him. But it was getting increasingly hard feeling that delicious stretch every time you lifted over him.

Lewis hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sank down onto him. He is staring at you like you hung the sun, moon, and the stars yourself.

He uses both of his hands to pull your mouth towards his, "I love you." He breathes into you, pressing passionate pecks onto your lips. He holds your face close to his, maintaining eye contact as you roll over him. 

Your mouth drops open as you feel him lift his hips over and over. Between his eyes piercing into you and the slow, languid strokes he's giving you, you weren't sure what would throw you over the edge first. 

You moan quietly as you feel the blaze building in your belly. He's so big that it feels like he's entering you for the first time all over again.

You feel inebriated by him as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. He's still just as vocal as he was the first time, and it's putting you in overdrive.

Lewis is thrusting up into you with a force that has the breath leaving your lips in sharp pants with every re-entry.  

Your foreheads fall against each other, both of you watching your bodies drive against the water.

Lewis is lifting you from his lap like you weigh nothing. He turns you around to face the opposite way. You gasp as he pulls your arms up and directs you to hold onto the end of the tub in front of you. You're on your knees, arms holding your upper body out of the water. You feel his knees slide in between your spread legs, and his hands caress up and down your wet back. 

One hand settles on your shoulder, the other on your waist, and then he is sliding into you slowly. You hang your head, letting out a deep breath, "fuck." you cry out as he strokes at such a deliberately slow momentum.

As he pushes into you, his grip on your shoulders forces you back at the same time. He's going so slow but getting so deep that it has you tightening your grip. 

When he hits your spot, you lurch forward.

He pulls you back onto him, his hand tightening against your waist.

"Don't run. Stay with me." He orders, his voice is deep and raspy. "This what you wanted, remember?"

You nod your head, eyes closing shut as your thighs quiver. "Oh god."

"Want to make you feel better." He moans. "I was waiting for you to let me see this pretty pussy again." He hums, and you feel his hands spread you apart.

"So fucking pretty, so tight."

It was like he was tormenting you, giving you an inch and then taking a mile every time he pushed into you slowly just to have you wallowing for more when he pulled himself out.

"You're being greedy, mama." He chuckles as you push yourself back onto him. "take what you want then."

At his words, you begin to swivel your hips back at a much quicker pace, feeling his pelvis brush against your ass with every motion.

"C'mon, take it." he grunts. "that's right, want it so bad."

You pull yourself forward, only to spiral back into him repeatedly. Lewis is a mess behind you, his hands reaching up to hold his braids from his face. He kneels there and allows you to use his body in any way you please. 

He takes in an unsteady breath when you tighten around him. As you drag your pussy over him, he feels himself being tugged with you. "So tight." he moans, "don't even wanna let me go."

He pulls you up by your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, and begins hammering into you over and over. One hand travels to your throat, and his grip is temperate. 

"All you needed, huh? Feel better already?"

You nod your head, yes, head falling back onto his shoulder. He pummels into you stroke after stroke until he feels it. You constrict around him, hands coming to grip his arm, and you moan his name over and over. 

He doesn't show you any mercy. He keeps up his fast pace as you writhe in his arms. His head falls, and as he feels himself come undone, he bites down on your shoulder with a growl that lights your body on fire all over again. You feel him spurt into you, and you whine as he nestles himself into your core further. 

After a while, Lewis pulls himself from your gut with a hiss. He reaches down and unplugs the drain. He sits, spreading his legs and pulling you in between them. When you're nestled against his chest, he sighs, once again placing his hand on your neck to angle your face towards his. He places a sensual kiss on your lips before letting you go with a smile.

"Should I run us a bath, or do you want to hop in the shower for a quick wash?"

You turn to the left, observing the standing shower, and you scoff. "you've ruined my legs, Lew; I couldn't stand in there if I wanted."

"Bath it is." He grins, already reaching for the knobs.

"Plus, I want to sit with you like this for a while. Bask in this."

"I love you," he expresses, "I don't think I'll ever get used to this."

_

Spoiler alert: he never did. As the days went on and turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months, and Lewis never changed his affections. You two were in a constant honeymoon phase, which you were sure was permanent.

You two were perfect for each other in every sense and made each other whole. 

The dynamics that made you two the perfect friends bled over into your relationship, and things were flawless, to say the least.

Until, you felt a popping feeling and then a gush of water fall between your legs. Lewis was on his way home from the airport having left to race in Singapore he was relieved that he'd be back three days before your expected due date.

But when he gets a call from his best friend and hears your cranky voice in the background, his heart hammers with nerves. 

"Miles, I swear to fucking god," he hears you groan. "if he doesn't have his high yellow ass to the hospital before I push these goddamn babies out of me, I will kill him. Tell him I will kill him."

"You heard her, man," Miles stammers. He hears commotion over the phone, and he gives up his useless attempts to grab either of your attention.

"Oi Miles!" He hears a slap in the background. "Oh my fucking god," you cry out. "Where is Whit? I don't want your help, fucking men."

Miles reappears on the screen; he looks disheveled and like he's just been in a cat fight, "Hey, brother." he pants. "I'm trying here, just how far are you?" 

"Lewis leans forward, seeing his ETA on his driver's screen. "Only ten minutes. Is she okay?" His voice is full of concern, and Miles squawks.

"Brother, ten minutes is too long. She just absolutely beat my ass for putting the wrong treats in the bag. There are a million gummies in here. How am I sup-"

"Gushers, Miles. On the top shelf of the pantry behind the rice cakes."

"Why the hell are there gushers behind rice cakes?" He cries out, rushing to the pantry. Lewis sees you in the background as Miles breezes by.

You stand in the middle of the living room face set in a pout one hand grasping the a bag of organic gummies and the other holding your phone to your ear. 

"Whit!" He hears you cry out, "I'm about to have these fucking babies alone with fucking Miles! Fucking Miles! And he gives me fucking Annes organic fruit snacks, Whitney! Why the fuck would I want organic candy? And Lew hid the gushers, and he's not going to be here in time, and I don't know where he put them."

Miles drops his jaw, halting his reach for the treats. "Hey, I'm trying my best! I want the best for you and my godchildren. I'm trying here!"

"Your trying isn't enough; obviously, I need the god mom. Whit! Fucking men, can't even find my fucking candy." You call out again. 

"Ugh- did she just stomp away from me." 

The call disconnects, and Lewis lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls into his neighborhood. He rushes out of the car, running up the steps of you guys' home. When he enters the foyer, he rushes to where he saw you last on the phone. Only you're not standing in the living room in distress. It's Miles slumped onto the couch with a family pack of gushers in his lap. He notices the two gusher wrappers beside his friend, and he storms up to him, snatching the box and slapping the side of his head.

"Where's my baby?" 

"Upstairs, y'all are going to learn how to appreciate me one day. I'm the godfather to your children-"

Lewis smacks his teeth, rushing up the stairs and into your bedroom. He sees you lugging your baby bag onto the bed, and he rushes over to you, pulling it from your grasp. 

"Hey bunny, I'm here." 

Your lip wobbles as you look up at him, and you let out a relieved cry. Lewis opens his arms to embrace you, and you quickly pull the box from his hands, stuffing it into your bag. 

"I was looking for these." You cried.

Lewis, used to your pregnant shenanigans, allows you to cry tears of relief for the sudden appearance of your after-labor treat. It's all you'd been asking for for weeks, but your doctor had you on a strict diet.

"Bunny," he persists, his arms open. You sniffle, stepping into his embrace.

"How are you feeling?"

"My vagina hurts, and I was scared you weren't going to make it." 

He chuckles, holding you close to him, "always going to make it when it comes to you guys."

It's safe to say your mood didn't get any better when you made it to the hospital. 

Lewis was by your side as you held onto his hand for dear life.

"Baby," he coos, "you're doing great."

"Oh my god," you wince, pulling your hand from his as you clutch the sheets. "Get the fuck away from me."

He looks baffled as you curse up a storm.

Lewis takes a step back only to be nudged forward again by the doctor. "Trust me, she'll murder you if you get away from her."

He holds onto your hand again, using the towel to wipe the sweat from your hairline.

Even now as you take in deep breaths and hang your head like you're about to die, Lewis think you are beautiful. You're glistening with sweat and throwing out words that would make a pastor faint but you're still beautiful with your freshly done birthing braids and bewildered face.

"Oh fuck this! Count the shit, measure the shit, whatever, and check again. I don't care if I'm not dilated enough; make it enough! Get these babies out of me."

You were regretting your decision to go all-natural as another contraction rippled through you. You let go of the sheet and grasp Lewis' hand again.

You look up to him, and he is staring at you in pure adoration. "I promise, you've got this." He encourages.

You feel tears of relief pool as your doctor let's out a direct order. "And we're there, when I get to three you push, okay."

You only nod as Lewis crouches down, "Push like hell, bunny."

You don't count how many times you hear him count to three or how many agonizing pushes you give until you hear the first cry. You're momentarily distracted as you watch them hold your baby into the air. 

"Come on, Mom, got to keep going," your doctor orders. 

You exhale, taking another deep breath as you push again. Lewis remains by your side, holding your hand and coaxing you through the pain.

"You're doing so great, bunny. So proud of you. We're about to meet our babies; we just have to push a little bit more." 

His words are all you need to get through another insufferable ninety seconds before you hear an even louder cry. 

Lewis kisses the top of your head as you fall back in exhaustion. "So proud of you, baby, hmm. I love you."

You're no longer the angry woman you were twenty minutes ago. You're looking up at Lewis with tired eyes that still glow with love and excitement.

"Baby boy came first." Your doctor hums settling him on one side of your chest, Another nurse comes forward settling your second baby on the oposite side. "And his sister came to stake her territory after."

You cry out, but it comes out in the form of a laugh. Your hands come up to hold both of your babies against your chest. Lewis crouches down, eyeing you three in amazement.

"My beautiful family." 

He places a kiss atop each head, watching as they instantly settle down amongst your warm body. 

You've never felt so much love in your life. You think back to all of the times you felt you were destined to be alone, all of the times you craved for someone to love you unconditionally. You gave up hope that you'd find it in a partner, so a baby was all you craved. But here you were with a man who loved you more than it was possible for love to exist. Here you were with two products of that love. 

You order the nurse to remove one of the railings so the Lewis can nestle in beside you. The doctor suggest for him to remove his shirt and he does so quickly, gently sliding beside you. You motion for him to grab the babygirl and he eases her onto his chest with ease. You peck his head as you watch the tears glide down his face. 

"I just love you all so much." he cries. 

And you know exactly how he feels as you two bask in the moment.

You think back to the moment that made this all possible, laying in Lewis' bed as the words leave his mouth, "It's something about loving someone so much that you want to fill them up with another part of you."

Looking at your two babies, you could tell they each were going to represent a part of both of you. As your daughter lets out constant noises, Lewis turns to you with knowing eyes, "Just like her mama." Your son's eyes pop open at the sound of his sister, and you coo, "Brother bear."

"Do we have names ready?" The doctor hums.

-

y/u/n

liked by fencer, champagnepapi, and 2,786,901 others

y/u/n I want to share this love I found with everyone. you deserve to meet my happy family after all of this time. Of all of the things that I wanted to be, being a mother was always my true calling. It's not easy, but it's worth it. To my babies, mommy loves you always; when the world is cruel, and your heart makes you feel like a fool, know that I will be there always. To LJ, my daring little boy, I see your father in everything you do; you will always be my baby bear, so strong and courageous, but with a mind so strong and a heart so big, you're forever unstoppable. My baby, Giana, Gigi girl, you came into the world demanding to be heard. You're fierce and bold in all of the best ways. Already, I admire the way you think and the things I know you will do. You heal a part of me I didn't know needed healing. You're my favorite girls girl, I love listening to you yap puppy, I love that you love talking to me. Always stand your ground, girly; never dull your light or lower your voice for anyone or anything. If no one listens, know I will. And to the love of my life, who has given me everything I could've ever wanted, plus more. You've outdone yourself, Lew; there aren't enough words to articulate how much I love you. Still my best friend, soon to be my husband, forever and always, the love of my life <3

view all comments

lewishamiton I can never think you enough for all that you've given to me. I love you more than life bunny. ❤️

user okay but the family of crochet animals. PUPPY? BEAR? CHEETAH? BUNNYYYY? 🥲

whitwhit still so proud of you mama ❤️

y/u/n the best god mommy in the world! I love you.

landonorris Mother🤰🏽Literally. Beautiful souls, even more beautiful children.

y/u/n love love love you Lando

user i always knew they'd get together one day, my happy heart!

lewishamilton

liked by charles_leclerc, mercedesamg, and 7,796,801 others

lewishamilton Thank you will never be enough for all that has been given to me. I love you, bunny, and every time I think it's impossible to feel more than that, you prove me wrong. To the rest of our lives together, to our children, and to the life I've had with you. We're in this together, forever. Daddy loves you, LJ, and Gigi, forever here, forever loving you.

charles_leclerc So happy for you man!

sebastianvettel never have you been happier man, congratulations.

user you mean to tell me that all of this time we thought he was uncle lew and whole time HE'S THE PAPPYYYY

lewishamilton like these are my kids, that my son. I was so bothered by that ngl. THEY LOOK JUST LIKE ME.

user you tell us not to assume and then when we don't assume you want us to assume what do you want from us sir?!?!

so this is the end that's not the end, I'll most likely make blurbs for their future 🌚

hope you enjoyed it.

not proofread sorry for any mistakes I was rushing honey

@barcelonaloverf1life @mitruscity

#lewis hamilton imagine #formula 1 #f1 #black reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x black reader #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #poc reader #lewis hamilton x reader #oh baby part 3 #oh baby mini series

[gojipink]

white lie

ஐ ft. kaeya

ஐ summary. trying to hide an injury from him!

ஐ warnings. none, SFW. 1.3k words

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

getting home to you and kaeya’s shared apartment took longer than you had wanted; getting healed by barbra after a couple of adventures found you propped against a tree, half-lucid with a bloody gash across your abdomen had really put a kink in your usual schedule.  

you breathe a sigh of relief when you unlock the front door and find that the apartment is still empty, meaning that kaeya was still in his office and hasn't been alerted of your little accident. 

you have never kept anything from kaeya but this? this was different. lately, he’s been having to take on way too much, his desk overflowing with piles upon piles of paperwork while also leading patrol tours throughout the nation. every night he comes home utterly exhausted, barely having enough energy to finish his dinner and give you a chaste kiss before he retires to bed.

if he catches wind of your injury, he'll be sure to go insane with worry and put himself on the backburner in order to dote on you, which you deem completely unnecessary. barbra’s already given you the all clear, just have to take it easy for the next few days and clean your wounds daily and you should be healed up soon enough. besides, you’re strong enough to take care of yourself, there’s no reason for you to burden kaeya with something as insignificant as a minor injury. 

you tried to act as normal as you could. tried to move around the kitchen preparing dinner for the two of you with as much stability as you could muster. and once kaeya came home, eyes slightly wide and breathing deeply like he was hiding the fact he just ran home, you put on your best smile for him. 

“welcome home, love! you made it just in time for dinner,” you beam at him, settling into your usual seat at the table.

he looks around the apartment for a moment before his clear eye finds its way back to you, analyzing your seemingly unharmed figure. he gives you a tight smile while he makes his way into the kitchen to wash up, “you made dinner?” he asks, tone slightly devoid of his usual pep but you chalk it up to him being tired. 

“mhm, just something quick. hurry, come join me,” you smile at him. 

after a moment, kaeya sits in his chair across from you. watchful eyes observing your figure as you begin to eat, his heart twisting uncomfortably as his mind clouds with turmoil. 

kaeya studies you for a moment more before speaking up, “heard you required a healer today, what’s going on with that?” 

you tense at his question, eyes wide and staring down at your food, mind racing to find a convincing excuse. 

“i, um,” you swallow thickly before looking up to meet his eyes, his expression unreadable, “i was feeling a little sore from these past few days so i thought i could just pop in and see barbra. you know, just get a little once-over is all.” 

kaeya’s uncovered eye flash with something indecipherable. confusion? hurt? anger? though, it wouldn't really make sense for him to feel any of these emotions at all, not unless-

“so, you're going with that story, hm?” he sighs out, letting his spoon clink loudly against the side of the bowl as he sits back in the chair with his arms crossed, studying you with icy eyes. 

“i…well, yes, i-” you try to come up with something quickly before he interrupts with a humorless chuckle, 

“can’t say i’m not hurt by your lie, angel.” he says quietly with a sad smile while looking at you with dejected eyes. 

you stare at him, shocked by his words, “kaeya, im not-”

“jean said that you were covered in blood. barbra told her everything, which she then told me before i left work. said you were, and i quote, ‘barely conscious enough to say what happened’.” he said, his tone of voice flat and empty, “but apparently, and this is the part that puzzles me most, it was specifically requested that this incident was to be kept from me.”

“i can explain,” you rush out, quickly moving to the chair next to him, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain that shoots across your abdomen, too desperate to save him from any misunderstanding he’s conjured in his mind.

“kaeya, i promise,” you reach over to slide your hand into his, your heart breaks at the sound of his shuddering inhale, his thumb roughly rubbing the back of your hands trying to mask the shakiness in his fingers, “i’m alright. i’m here. it sounds so much worse than it really is and the only reason i didnt tell you-”

“that's alright, my love,” he interjects looking up at you with a dim smile, “i get it, i'm glad you’re alright,” he whispers as he pulls his hand out of your grasp to stand up and clear off the dining room table.

your eyes helplessly follow his movements, “wh-get what, kae-”

“you must be tired, hm? had quite the day, princess,” his usual easygoing tone forced back into his voice, “ill clean up, you go wash up first let me know if you want help. i'll call barbra or jean if you prefer it.”

you break from your dumbfounded state as you chase after him in the kitchen. arms wrapping around his torso tightly, refusing to let him pull away as he stands in front of the sink bracing his hands against the counter.

“i know you're mad at me,” you start gently, cheek pressed snuggly against his back, your hands pressed against his chest feeling the heavy beat of his stinging heart, “but i’m so sorry, my love. i never wanted to cause you any kind of distress. you have been so overworked, so stressed out, i just didn't want to pile it on.” 

he harshly exhales through his nose as his hands slowly make their way towards yours, gently prying them loose so that he can turn in your iron hold. once he faces you, his fingers come up to brush over your cheek. 

“im not upset with you,” he whispers, his thumb lightly tracing your cheekbone, “i mean, i'm upset, but i'm not mad at you. could never be mad at you, angel.” 

you frown at his dejected expression and tone while you lean into his touch, “i just didn’t want to burden you with it, kae. it really sounds worse than it actually is, i swear. nothing bad happened, i was fixed up really quick! the cut was so much smaller than what the healers thought, it just looked way worse because i was also splattered with monster blood as well,” you hastily explained all in one breath. 

he worriedly chews on his bottom lip as he absorbs your words,  “what about how you were barely conscious-”

“i was just exhausted after the fight, kae,” you clarify, “admittedly it was a tough fight but i was back up on my feet in no time after seeing the healers.” 

he analyzes you for a moment before leaning forward to press his forehead against yours, “tell me everything,” he whispers, “good, bad, mundane or not. i don't care, just don't shut me out, please. you have no idea what-” he stops himself to exhale a heavy breath, “i didn't know what to think. regardless, it doesn't matter how busy i am, how stressed out i am, i want to know everything that happens with you. you are my number one priority, not some group of recruits i just met yesterday. you understand that, right?” 

you nod your head while still pressed against his, “i know, im sorry,” you whisper. 

kaeya pulls back slightly before cupping your cheeks to drag you into a sweet and comforting kiss. 

after a few more tender kisses, kaeya’s lips lift into his usual playful smile, “c’mon, pretty, you must be sore, hm? think we both need a relaxing bath.”

you beam up at him at his suggestion, your bright smile stunning him for a moment as his heart skips in his chest and his stomach erupts into butterflies. quickly, he turns away to lead you both to the bathroom as your giggles follow closely behind him hinting that you've caught sight of his blushing cheeks.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

masterlist

#hehe do u guys like the new layout (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ #made these banners myself y'know (>ᴗ•) ! (luna taught me how...) #goji's.thots˚｡⋆୨୧˚ #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaeya₊˚⊹♡ #kaeya #kaeya alberich

[mayakern]

hiiii it's me! devin! ur favorite!

maya is still banned from doing big business things on social media while she takes time to rest and detoxify from the poison that is running social media full time for ten years. everybody clap! yay!

i'm here to share some info on our button-up shirt and dress preorders!

as many of you already know, i lost my anti-preorder campaign due to the high minimum per design. there's been some confusion and uncertainty. carsyn's doing her best but preorders are overwhelming and i have some time today

SO TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS:

how close are you to hitting the minimum goal for the button-up shirts and dresses?

not close lol. as of 4/26 we're at about 8% funded. i refuse to panic until after may 3rd

why the funeral design?

the funeral design won our design poll

initially we were going to run preorders for two designs: funeral as well as astronauts. when we got news that the minimum would be 400 garments per design (we're able to spread that across the button-up shirts and dresses) we decided to cut back to one design. we're really not big enough to expect 800 orders on an $80-90 item

why not another design?

another design did not win the design poll

what would have been chosen other than funeral or astronaut?

deadly florals, hiss from a rose, microorganisms, and hands were all the top placers in the design poll after funeral

can you do solid color?

yes

why didn't you do solid color?

you can buy a solid color button-up shirt or dress from anywhere. the plan has always been to introduce these garments in solid color after their initial introduction

...so can you do solid color?

we will consider doing solid color preorders if these preorders bomb

how much would solid color cost?

probably the same. it's not much cheaper. it's faster to make tho

how much would the ecovero viscose cost instead of cotton?

maybe like $10 cheaper

it's really soft tbh but it's a different weave from the viscose for the skirts. it's my number one fabric for the button-ups but alas the cotton fandom won for now

what happens if preorders bomb?

we cancel and refund all preorders.

maybe we'll try again with a different design or with fewer features after we have some time to decompress from the nightmare that is running preorders (can you tell i hate preorders). if they bomb bad enough we may completely nix patterned button-up shirts and dresses. we don't know yet!

does that affect the picnic top?

the picnic top is completely separate. since it's made out of a different fabric it has its own minimum, so it will not be affected by button-up shirt and dress preorders

and like, to be totally honest, it's way cheaper to produce. we can eat some of the cost and just make them. they're small enough to store easily and they're at a lower price point so we can expect to sell them after we receive them, like the wrap tops

btw, we have other ready-to-ship things already in production. we've been working on a whole secret project. surprise!

why did you launch preorders for the button-up shirt/dress at the same time as the picnic top?

the picnic top sample came in with the button-up dress sample and it needed very little alteration. also maya liked it. also we may be developing an entire line inspired by the picnic top so keep an eye out for that next spring

why is the new button-up shirt more expensive than the old button-up shirt?

it's more expensive to make

why is it more expensive to make?

this is a different factory from the one we used before. it's more expensive because they pay their staff a higher wage and likely have other costs

this is a different fabric from the one we used before. it's a stretch cotton with a GOTS certification

this is imported from a different country from the one we used before. turkey has much higher import fees to the US

what is a GOTS certification?

the short version is the fabric itself is more environmentally friendly and produced with more fair labor practices than standard cotton

you can read the long version here here

can you do fulfillment from somewhere other than the US?

we're working on it. it probably won't lower prices tho, since fulfillment centers also cost money

anyway...

none of this is to shame someone for not preordering. groceries are expensive and things are tight, plus it kinda sucks to spend on a tight budget and not get what you ordered for a few months

(can you tell i hate preorders)

i think there's a lot of surprise since we've never done preorders on a single design before, and that's fair! we debated on doing a kickstarter but a) i hate doing kickstarters b) kickstarter takes a percentage of sales and our profit margin on these is already lower than we'd like it to be

i'm tired and i can't remember anything else i wanted to say. i may answer any additional questions from my own tumblr (@punchyemblem and now i'm gonna get a notification that i'm gonna be jumpscared by) but carsyn will be handling most questions

also don't worry, when you say nice things we still show maya. also she's fine, she's just in her (forced and highly necessary and possibly permanent) limited social media era

#devin time #store stuff

[absurdthirst]

Evidence of a Date {Tim Rockford x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: SEX POLLEN(ish), snuff films, power of suggestion, hypnosis, compulsory need to fuck, rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral sex (male and female receiving)

Comments: Asked to assist Detective Rockford with finding evidence on a supposed snuff tape, you find it to be very different from what either one of you were expecting. Leading you to some surprising outcomes.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Tim Rockford MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Getting called into the Captain’s office is never a good thing. No matter how clean you keep your nose or what rank you are, even as a Detective. “You wanted to see me, sir?” Knocking and opening the door, you are surprised to see Rockford sitting in a chair opposite the captain’s desk. 

“Come in, shut the door.” He waves you in and your stomach twists, wondering what the hell is going on. You’ve worked with Tim before, but not recently. You’ve been too busy with your own caseload. “I need you to do something for me.” Captain Carnell is a no bullshit man, a pragmatist who hated sitting behind a desk. “Tim’s got a video he needs to go through, evidence.” You frown slightly, unsure why that should have any impact on you. “It’s a snuff film, supposedly and the forensic team refuses to touch it.” He grumbles and you still don’t quite understand. 

Tim shuffles awkwardly. “I need to watch it. And I need another set of eyes.” Your head turns towards him. “You can keep your mouth shut, unlike 90% of the others around here.” It’s true, cops like to gossip and if it is a snuff film, the details need to be kept quiet while the investigation is ongoing. 

“I see. And that’s why you called me in?” You ask the captain. 

“Yes.” Carnell nods. “Tim asked if your cases could be transferred and you to help him on this, and I think it’s a good idea. That way there’s no talk of sexism if the case goes nowhere.” 

You nod. “Of course.” You agree, not sure if you’re dreading watching the video or spending all your time with Tim more. It’s hard working with someone that you are hopelessly attracted to and know that it’s unrequited. “I’ll move my cases over to Robertson and we can get on the case right away.”

Your captain nods, “excellent. After closing time, go to the break room. He’s secured the room so it will be just you two.” Tim nods, crossing his arms and you glance between the two men. “Go back to your paperwork. Half an hour…the office will be closed up after everyone heads out and you can get started.” 

You nod and Tim shuffles a little as he exits the office, holding the door open for you. “Thanks for helping with this. It’s - it could be the breakthrough we need and I know it’s gonna be hard to watch but I’m glad you’re helping me with it.” Tim says quietly as you stand in the hallway before you get to the bullpen.

“It’s okay.” You don’t know what to expect. Hopefully it’s not too gory, you have been to plenty of crime scenes, but you had hoped to go to a party tonight after work. Even if you stay late to work on the case, you could get there later. “We’ll watch the tape and then make any notes before we go back through it again.”

Tim nods, reaching out to squeeze your upper arm. He can’t help but think you look gorgeous today. Well, every day really but you’d never want him. He’s older. He’s divorced and has a ten year old son. He’s got baggage and you deserve the world. With a sigh, he makes his way back to his desk, eager to finish the work day to spend time with you. God, he’s pathetic. He’s desperate to spend time with you. Even if it means watching a snuff tape. The day seems to drag by and finally he sees his colleagues starting to pack up and he wipes his hands on his pants, glancing across the room to your desk.

Your cases have been passed off you and endured the grumbling, telling Robertson to talk to the captain if he had a problem with it. Finishing up some paperwork while you wait for everyone else to go home. “You leaving?” One of the other detectives comes by your desk on his way out. 

“No.” You shake your head and look down at your file. “Backlog of paperwork. Captain’s on my ass about it.” You know most of them have every intention of heading down to the bar for happy hour. “Drink a beer for me though, okay?”

Tim is asked the same thing except he got waggled eyebrows as most of them know about his crush on you…everyone except you apparently. He sighs and pushes back from his desk after everyone is gone. “You want a coffee before we get started? I’ve got…something to add if you want to take the edge off.” He says, pulling out a small flask as he looks at you.

“Detective Rockford.” You sound scandalized, but you grin as you pick up your coffee cup. “Absolutely.” You laugh as you start to walk towards the break room. “At least if we can’t go for happy hour, we can brace ourselves for what is to come.” You tell him, emptying out the sludge in the pot and setting it to make a fresh batch. Lord only knows how long you will end up staying. “So where did you get this tape from?”

Tim sits down and sets the flask down on the little coffee table in front of the sofa in the break room. He’s slept on the sofa before. Especially when he was trying to crack the case of the old woman who was murdered for her inheritance. It kept him up all night and he ended up sleeping in the office a few times while looking over the case. “I have an inside contact. He’s looking for immunity and he left me a copy of the tape. Some mafia bullshit…it’s heavy. Supposedly.” He tells you, watching you make the coffee.

“So don’t plan on wanting to eat, got it.” You frown, deciding it was a stupid idea to ask Tim if he wanted to go out to that little dinner down the road from your apartment anyway. You were work colleagues, not romantically linked. “As long as it’s not a kid, I’ll be fine.” You admit softly, looking up from where you are pouring sugar and creamer in your cup to get it ready for the coffee. “I hate when it’s kids. I can’t imagine how you feel, having your son.”

Tim shakes his head, rubbing his cheek. “That - any kid - it kills me. Wondering what I’d do…how id feel if someone - I think you’d be locking me up because I’d burn the fucking world if something happened to Billy.” Tim confesses and you come over to the sofa with your cup and a cup for him. “Thanks sweetheart.” He says, grabbing the remote. He doesn’t call you sweetheart in front of the other guys but you’ve always been close to his heart. “You ready?” He asks you, wanting to make sure you’re mentally prepared.

It’s almost embarrassing how much you enjoy when he calls you sweetheart, not taking offense to it at all. It’s almost like an endearment and you cherish it. “I’m ready.” You tell him after taking a deep breath, knowing you need to be professional.

He grabs the flask, pouring a generous amount of whiskey in each mug before he sets it down. “Just to take the edge off.” He says before he takes a sip and hits play on the tape. He’s tense beside you, waiting to see the gruesome scene unfold.

"I hope that we don't have to finish the flask and go find a bottle." You murmur as you immediately take a large sip of your doctored coffee. Enjoying the slight burn before a naked woman walks into the view of the camera. Obviously set up in some kind of bedroom. "Well, fuck." You hiss. "It's gonna be one of those snuff films."

Tim shifts awkwardly as the woman comes over to the camera, her tits swaying as she adjusts it before she steps back and a man appears behind her. “Yeah. I, uh, I wasn’t told that this was - yeah. Sorry.” He blushes slightly, knowing he’s secretly wondered what you look like naked more than enough times.

"It's okay." You take another sip of your coffee before you look over at Tim for a split second, eyes flying back to the tv. You watch as the man starts to massage the woman's tits. "It's not like I've never watched porn before." You tell him, wanting him to relax slightly. "Caucasian female, approximately mid to late twenties, brown hair, Caucasian male, mid forties, short blond hair." You observe. "It looks like there is a tattoo on his left bicep."

Tim had completely forgotten to take any notes, his mind shamefully thinking about you naked and him behind you palming your tits. He leans forward, clasping his hands together to force himself to pay attention. He watches the couple fondle each other and he feels guilty that you’re having to watch this. “I- I’m not sure if he’s the one that gets killed.” Tim says, paying attention as the man’s hand slides down to rub the clit of the woman.

"Most snuff films, it's the woman who's murdered." You huff quietly, biting your lip and frowning slightly when the screen flashes for a split second. "I-" you shake your head, afraid you might have just imagined it. The woman's moan hadn't stopped so you just continue to watch. Your cunt bottoms out when the man slaps her pussy and then starts to rub again, his other hand still toying with her right nipple. "He's left-handed?" You ask, not quite sure but it's a strong theory. "Most often men finger a woman with their dominant hand."

“This is supposed to be the tape of the victim.” Tim says, trying to work through the evidence despite his cock twitching, suddenly aroused and he puts that down to being close to you.

You hum and lean in, trying to pretend the foreplay in the video isn't erotic, or you aren't getting turned on. It's natural, that's what you are trying to convince yourself of. That your panties would be soaked already if you were just watching a normal porn, alone in your room where you could pretend your hand was Tim's. Clearing your throat, you swear you see the screen flash again, but the audio doesn't stop.

Tim swears he saw something flash on the screen but he doesn’t bother telling you. He is trying to conceal his rapidly hardening cock. Sweat starts to bead on his forehead and he wipes it with the back of his hand. “I - this isn’t a normal snuff tape.” He murmurs, confused as the man pushes his fingers into the woman, her moan echoing in the break room as the image flashes on screen again and he pays attention. “You see that?” He asks, curious if you’ve seen it.

You gasp, but you don't know if it's from the fact that Tim might have seen the same flashes you have, or from how warm you are getting. How your entire body seems to be lighting up, aching for someone, Tim, to touch you. "I- yes?" You almost ask as you try to keep from moaning quietly.

“What - What does it say?” He asks, wondering if you’ve seen it better than he did and he tugs on his tie, loosening it and undoing the top button. Suddenly overheated, he shifts his feet and his fingers flex as he smothers down the urge to touch you.

“I don’t know. It’s- it’s flashing too fast to read.” You know you should probably stop the tape and go back, but you can’t. “Is it- fuck, it’s hot in here, right?” You ask him, biting your lip when the woman cums on the tape, moaning softly as you wonder if Tim would finger you before he fucks you or if he would just shove his cock into your needy pussy.

“Yeah. It is.” Tim murmurs, suddenly boiling hot and he unbuttons a couple more buttons on his shirt, his tie pulled over his head to fling it down on the sofa. The man grabs the woman, dragging her to the bed and he wastes no time pushing into her, her moan echoing in the room and the screen flashes again. This time slower. The word ‘Fuck’ flashes again, and again. Tim is rock hard now, unable to tear his eyes away from the tv.

“It’s saying ‘Fuck’.” You breathe out, unsure why someone would cut that word into a snuff film. “Right?” Your cunt is throbbing and you squirm as you watch the couple fuck on the screen. You bite your lip, trying to keep your breathing regulated and you want to touch yourself, or have Tim touch you.

“Ye-yeah. That’s what I- shit. It’s so hot.” He says, unbuttoning another couple of buttons and he undoes the wrist buttons, rolling his sleeves up. ‘Fuck’ flashes up on the screen again and Tim grunts, unable to resist palming his cock through his pants. “So-sorry. I- shit. I’m so hard it hurts.” He confesses, “you should - you should go.” He says, trying to get you away from him before he breaks.

You snort, pressing your thighs together. “Of course you are. We are watching two attractive people have sex.” You reason. “And it’s been a long goddamn time since a man made me cum.

Tim frowns, turning his head for a second to look at you before he focuses on the screen again. “It has? How? You’re - Jesus. You’re gorgeous. I always thought you had a secret boyfriend or something and just didn’t tell us.” He admits as the man fucks the woman harder and the screen flashes again. ‘Fuck’ Flashes and almost burns in his retinas as he sees it when he blinks.

You squirm again, wanting to shove your hand into your panties and rub your clit. “No time to date.” You groan. “You know how it is. Long hours. Turbulent cases. I just- have a vibrator.” You hiss when the screen flashes again. “Fuck! Why does it keep telling me to fuck?” You cry.

Tim bites his lip, his gaze flicking between you and the screen. The man flips the woman over to push back inside of her, making her cry out. ‘Fuck’ flashes again and Tim shakes his head, “I don’t - shit - I can’t - I need to-” He surges forward to cup your cheeks, pressing his lips to yours as ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’ repeats in his mind over and over again until he no longer controls himself.

It’s such a fucking relief to feel his lips against yours that you let out a small sob. Pulling him closer and pressing your entire body against his as ‘Fuck’ flashes in your mind again and again. Driven by some unseen force that is practically compelling you to touch the other detective. The need for him clawing under your skin like a drug.

His hands slide down to grab your waist, dragging you not his lap as his tongue slides into your mouth. The moans continue on the tv and the word ‘Fuck’ continues flashing in his mind. “Fuck.” He rasps out. “I- I can’t stop. Tell me to stop.” He managed to choke out despite grabbing your hips to drag you down on top of him.

“Don’t stop.” You gasp out, rolling your hips down shamelessly to grind against his hard cock. You don’t know why you need him inside you, but you desperately do. “Touch me, Tim.” You beg breathlessly. “Please baby.”

He can’t deny you. He helps you grind down on his cock, his hands sliding up to squeeze your tits through your blouse. “I - shit - I need to - to be inside of you.” He tells you, reaching down to work on unbuttoning your pants and he pushes his hand inside to find you wet and ready for him.

"Fuck." You whimper at the first touch of his thick fingers against your clit. "Yes, need- fuck, I need your cock." You groan out, reaching down around his own hand in your pants to squeeze his cock through his. "Now Tim." You insist.

Tim groans when you squeeze him and he slides his fingers between your folds, groaning at how wet you are. “Fuck. I- stand up. Take your pants off.” He demands, working on his belt buckle and his cock is aching, he’s in pain. The word ‘Fuck’ keeps flashing on the screen as the moans continue to pour out of the tv speakers.

Scrambling to your feet, you nearly fall over in your haste to strip down. Pushing down your pants and kicking them off with your panties, your knees shake in need and you are panting like you've just finished a marathon. "Oh fuck." you turn back around and find Tim with his cock in his hand, pumping it furiously. "Oh shit, let me- I need-" You dive back onto his lap, eager to sink down on his thick, uncut cock.

He grabs your ass as you reach between you to grip his cock and he groans when you start to sink down onto him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck” starts to echo on the tv but Tim isn’t paying attention, to obsessed with the way you are sinking onto his cock. You’re so wet and tight and he loses his ability to breathe as you settle into his cock.

The slightly intense, grim detective looks amazing as he moans for you. Feeling his cock scrub against your walls in the best way as he breaks you open. Making your mouth drop open and a loud moan of his name, your arms wrapped around his neck to keep you upright.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiittt.” He hisses in delight, groaning your name as you start to rock on top of him and his hands slide up to work on the buttons of your shirt, wanting to feel every inch of you. The buttons become tiresome so he just rips your blouse, sending buttons flying across the room and he groans when he finally gets access to your tits, pulling them out of your bra so he can duck down and take a nipple into his mouth.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out when his mouth attacks your breasts. Never imagining he would be such a dominant lover. Tearing your shirt off has you clenching down around him and squeezing him tight in your walls. “More.” You beg, tangling your fingers into his hair and tugging on it, pressing him into your breast. “More, baby, fuck.”

He bites down, sucking on your tits, alternating as he groans into your flesh and you whimper, making his cock twitch inside of you. ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck’ continues on the screen, the moans stopping from the couple as yours replace them, the words on the screen flashing constantly and Tim hisses as he grabs your ass, lifting you up to place you on the sofa so he can fuck into you.

“Oh fuck.” You whine when his cock slips out of you but the second he is driving back into you, your scream rings out. Scratching your nails down his shirt, you wish he was undressed. At least so you could feel his skin under your fingers.

He grunts, leaning down to kiss along your neck. “Imagined this so many fucking times.” He admits shamelessly, “imagined fucking you on my desk. In my bed. In here. In the captain's office. Imagined you a fuck ton. Shit. So tight. Knew you would be.” He rambles, his thrusts deep and slightly frantic as the mantra continues around you.

You moan, unable to believe that he would imagine fucking you. You have never thought he noticed you beyond working together. “Imagined how good you’d feel. How thick you would be.” You confess as he punches deep inside you. “Better that I could have imagined.”

Tim groans, spurred on by your words and the repeated mantra urging him on and he hisses your name as he pushes deep. “Wanna - wanna feel you cum.” He says, reaching down to rub your clit.

You shudder, clenching down around him and digging your nails into his shoulder as you lunge up to bite his chin. “Yes, fuck, fuck me harder.” You beg, driven by this invisible force.

He clenches his jaw, pushing deeper, harder, faster. Sweat beads on his forehead as he kneels on the sofa, lifting your thigh over his hip to get even deeper inside of you, his fingers rubbing your clit.

“Tim, oh fuck, oh fuck.” You choke out, feeling that familiar polling in the pit of your stomach. Except it’s better than using your toy at home. The nerves screaming in pleasure and you kiss every inch of skin you can reach.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck” repeats over and over and Tim hisses as he rocks into you, trying to get you to cum. It’s like he needs you to cum like he needs to breathe. “That’s it. Shit. Gettin’ so wet on my cock. Cum for me. Cum for me.” He begs, his cock twitching as he gets closer to his own orgasm.

The harsh, jarring thrusts are everything you need and more. Pushing you closer every time his hips snap forward and if there was ever a question of Tim Rockford’s ability in bed, this answered it. “Gonna baby.” You squeal, not making any sense, but it doesn’t matter. Your orgasm crashes through you and all you can do is cry out wordlessly.

“Yesss. That’s it. Good girl.” Tim hisses as you clamp down around him and he swears he could fuck you all night long just to hear you cry out his name like that. He rocks you through it, his jaw clenching and he releases a deep groan as he buries his cock deep and cums inside of you, painting your walls.

You whine, loving the feeling of his hot cum filling you up. Panting as you try to catch your breath when he drops his head on your shoulder. “Fuck.”

“Fuck.” He echoes, his cock still hard inside of you. The mantra is still playing on the tv and it’s wiggled into Tim’s head, making him ache for more. “I need - wanna fuck you from behind.”

You are surprised that he can keep going, but you can’t deny that your body still aches for more. “Yessss.” You hiss, clenching down around him and biting your lip. “Fuck me again. Never stop fucking me.”

Tim groans, pulling out of you and his dark eyes focus on the cum dripping out of you and he watches you shift onto your knees. His fingers wrap around his cock as you position yourself until he’s notching himself at your entrance and pushes into you with a groan.

“Fuck!” You cry out, enjoying the sharp ping of pain when he pushes deep and his cock hits the back of your cervix from this angle. “Jesus how are you single with a dick like that?” You moan.

“The job.” He chuckles, grabbing your hips and he starts to push deep, setting another harsh pace. “Divorced. Father of one. Not exactly - exactly Prince Charming.” He says breathlessly as his cock hits hard against your cervix.

“Fuuuuuuck.” You whine, dropping your head down onto the back of the sofa and rocking your hips back. “Don’t- fuck, don’t stop.” You beg him, barely getting the words out as he slams into you over and over again.

“I can’t.” He says truthfully and he slams into you, over and over. Desperate to hear and feel you cum for him again. “Can’t fucking stop. You’re - shit - this pussy is - fuck. Never wanna pull out.”

Moaning softly, all you can do is clench around him while you take his cock over and over again. Feeling like he's in your guts every time he snaps his hips forward and you want him even deeper. "Don't." you pant over your shoulder. "Just fuck me forever."

Tim nods, sweat glistening on his forehead and neck as he pushes into you over and over again. “I will, baby. Oh I fucking will.” He promises and groans when you clench around him. The tv keeps flashing and he hears ‘Fuck’ in the back of his mind over and over. “Jesus Christ. Never wanna stop.”

Your eyes slip closed. 'Fuck' flashing in your mind over and over again. Like you are possessed by this need to fuck. You moan his name and push your hips back. Needing more. Needing him deeper inside you. It doesn't matter that you've always dreamed of having sex with him, you need more of it. You whine, biting your lip so hard that you almost feel your teeth break the skin. Humming in agreement as you push back more forcefully. Letting his hips slam against your ass hard enough to rock you forward and press your chest against the back of the sofa.

“Good girl. That’s it. Yes. Yes.” Tim grunts, loving how you are pushing back against him. “Keep going. Keep - fuck - need you to cum again.” He pleads, leaning over your body to kiss along your neck, his hand cupping your tit to squeeze and pinch the nipple.

Gasping at the pain, you reach down. Frantically rubbing your clit as he hammers into you from behind. Striking that perfect spot deep inside you. "Gonna cum!" you squeal seconds before you clench down around him.

“That’s it, baby. Cum. Cum. Shit - need you to-” He chokes when you clamp down on his cock and he groans when you soak him, his cock nearly trapped inside of you but he manages to move to work you through it and he’s so close. “Shit. Baby. I- I’m gonna - I gotta - fuuuuuuckkkk.” He growls as he cums for the second time, painting your walls.

Whimpering Tim's name, you relax into the sofa, feeling him coating the inside of your cunt in his seed. Closing your eyes and sighing at the feeling, a small smile on your face. "So good. Feels so good." You moan quietly.

Tim exhales shakily, turning his head to see the screen has gone gray and he pants, leaning in to kiss your neck before he slowly pulls out of you, his cock finally going soft. “Shit.” He hisses and shifts to sit down on the sofa.

You turn slightly, grabbing your ruined shirt to sit down so you don’t leak cum all over the sofa. Other officers use it too. “God.” You pant, flopping back and trying to catch your breath. “That was- holy shit.”

Tim’s chest heaves, the mantra finally leaving his mind and he leans against the sofa after tucking himself away. “I guess…I guess it’s not, uh, it’s not a snuff tape.” He chuckles breathlessly.

"No." You frown slightly, wondering why it was said to be a snuff film when you think you saw both people in the film, alive and exhausted. "I- it was so strange. I kept seeing the word 'Fuck' flash on the screen between the scenes. Did you?"

“Yeah. It’s like - it’s like it burned into my retinas and all I could think of was fucking you and Jesus…I - did you want me to - or have I just-?” He can’t even sound out his thoughts, too horrified at the thought of it being what it could be. 

"No!" Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head. "I wanted you to." You promise, rushing to reassure him that it was something you had been very enthusiastic to experience. "I needed you too. It was like I had to have you or I was going to go crazy." You admit. "I thought I was pretty good at hiding my feelings."

The detective’s head swivels over to look at you. “You mean you- this wasn’t just the crazy hypnosis snuff video? You - Christ above, sweetheart. You have any fucking idea how many times I’ve thought about touching you…about being inside you…about loving you.” He adds softer than his prior exclamation.

You bite your lip, trying and failing not to grin at his confession. It seems like what could have been something troubling has turned out pretty fucking good. "So, I guess it was a good thing that you watched this with me rather than Robertson." You joke softly.

Tim’s eyes go wide as he turns to look at you, “thank the fucking Lord.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “That video…I don’t know what the fuck that was but we, uh, we gotta report it because this - it might not be so consensual for the next ones that get it and it could be dangerous.” He says, trying to focus on his job again instead of the way your lips look utterly kissable again.

"Who gave you this tape again?" You ask with a frown. "Why would they tell you it's a snuff film when it's.....obviously not?" It is concerning that it was given to a detective, and you wonder if it was meant to cause havoc in the department. Or the crime lab. "Normally this would be examined by the crime lab......not us."

“Yeah. The, uh, you know Greg? He gave it to me. Told me the crime lab didn’t have a working VHS so I’d have to watch it if I wanted to get the evidence from it.” He says and frowns, “he - he kinda knew I had a thing for you. Might’ve mentioned it when he noticed how pissed I’d get when the others talked about you behind your back.”

"Others talk about me?" You frown slightly, although you know shit talking is a part of being a cop. Especially a female detective in a male dominated field. "And Greg told you to watch this...with me?"

“They - they talk about your body. Your ass…what they wanna do to you. I- I try to shut them down. Say it’s disrespectful and yeah…he told me to get the captain to have you assigned to the case and I thought it was just to have your brains on the case…not - not this.” He gestures to the tv.

"Do you think Greg knew what was on the tape?" You ask quietly. reaching out and taking his hand and squeezing it gently for his kindness. For sticking up for you.

Tim looks down at your hands and shakes his head, “I don’t know babe. I- shit. I’m so sorry I put you in this situation. We gotta try and trace this tape back. We can’t let this shit get out.” He says, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

"I know." You nod as you look over at where the tv is still displaying a gray screen. "Maybe we need to take the video out of the station." You hum. "You know how nosy all these assholes are."

Tim nods, “I can take it home. Hide it.” He says, squeezing your hand again. “And I- I wouldn’t mind going to dinner with you sometime.” He adds, staring at the gray screen as he anxiously awaits your answer.

"I don't think we are going to get much work done tonight." You admit. "And I don't know about you, but I'm starving." You shrug. "I would say let's go to that dinner around the corner, but you ripped my shirt, so how about I make you dinner at my place?"

Tim nods, “how about I meet you at your place and I can pick up some Chinese food. Save you cooking.” He adds, “and then maybe we can talk about what happened when we are clear headed.”

"That sounds good." You agree, standing up and picking up your panties and pants after you tuck your boobs back into your bra. You wonder if he will blow you off, or if he wants to actually meet you at your place.

He knows your order from late nights in the station with everyone. He stands up, adjusting his shirt and he grabs his tie, shoving it into his pocket. “Sorry about your shirt. You, uh, want to use my jacket?” He offers, knowing you’ll want your decency when you leave.

"I've got an extra shirt in my desk drawer." You tell him with a grin. "For those all nighters." You know he understands that. Most detectives keep a complete change of clothes in a drawer just in case. "But help me hunt down the buttons?"

Tim nods, kneeling down and he blushes when he sees how far the buttons went. “I was - Jesus. That video made me feral.” He admits and picks up a few buttons. He hands them to you and when you stand there, he gently reaches up to cup your cheek, his eyes meeting yours as he leans in to kiss you softly.

You've kissed, but it had been frantic and needy. This is so much more gentle. A real kiss that is not because of that video. "I- thank you." You murmur quietly.

“You deserved better than that for our first time.” He murmurs as he pulls back, “I’ll make it up to you.” He promises as he looks at you. “Lemme grab your shirt from your desk just in case.”

“I don’t know.” You admit as you pull your pants back on. “I think multiple orgasms and being fucked within an inch of my life was a great first time.” You laugh. “Although I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get to suck your cock.”

Tim smirks, feeling confident now that you want him again and enjoyed earlier. “Don’t you worry baby. Maybe later…we can explore each other a little more.” He smirks and you giggle. “Let’s get out of here.” He says, walking over to the TV to eject the tape.

“That’s an amazingly suggestive tape.” You hum as you watch him analyze the tape like it might tell him its secrets. “Let’s go, Rockford.” You order with a smirk. “I’m starving and the captain authorized overtime, but I’d rather have our next viewing of the tape be in my bed.”

Tim’s eyes widen, “you wanna - I’d rather have you without watching the tape.” He tells you and you smirk, nodding, “that’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” He grins and follows you into the bullpen so you can collect your things. “You wanna come in my car or I can follow you?”

You smirk and shrug. "I might as well take my car." You tell him, "since I think that we won't be back in the office until next week." You wink at him. "Might cause some rumors if I leave it here."

Tim nods, willing to follow your lead and he grabs his things as you put the shirt on. “Come on, babe.” He says once you’re ready and he guides you out of the station to your car, glancing around to check out the surroundings like he always does.

You smile at the way that his hand rests on your hip. Protective and possessive. Waiting until you unlock the door to hold it open for you. "I'll meet you at my place?" You ask, glancing over at him. "You remember how to get there?"

He knows where you live, having dropped you off during late night stakeouts and ops. He waits until you’re in your car with the door locked before he makes his way over to his vehicle, quick to leave the parking lot and follow you to your house.

It's a bit nerve wracking, knowing Tim is following you. Excited in a way that you don't understand, you keep watching his car in your rearview mirror.

He grips the steering wheel, a little nervous actually to be going to your place if you are regretting sleeping with him. He calls up the Chinese restaurant to place your orders and he makes his way there. After picking up the food, he makes his way to your place and rings the doorbell with the food in hand.

In the spare time you had while Tim got the food, you had jumped into a quick shower. Bare feet and comfortable clothes are what greets him when he knocks on the door and you open it with a smile. "Hi." You greet him, waving him in. "Do you want a beer? Something stronger?"

Tim chuckles, “tempted to have something stronger but a beer will do. I don’t wanna be on anything around you. Especially after that fucking tape.” The tape is currently hidden in his glove box. “I wanna be sober around you.”

You nod in agreement and lean in to press your lips to his. "A beer it is." You hum, closing the door behind him and leading him into the kitchen. "I'll get the beers and some plates."

Tim checks your door is locked before he follows you into the kitchen, setting the bag of food down on your counter. “I haven’t been in here since you hosted that party after Samson closed that cold case.”

“Yeah, that’s been awhile.” You open the fridge and grab two beers to open before you turn back to him. “That  was right after you and your wife divorced.” You wince slightly. “I’m sorry about that. I know it was rough. I hated that you were under a lot of stress during that time.” 

Tom shakes his head as he takes the beer from your hand. “It was over a long time ago. We - we stayed together for our son and - shit. She really gave me hell.” He confesses, “anyway. I, uh, I guess I never really asked about your dating life. Never wanted to know if you had a boyfriend that I could be jealous of.

“No dating life, not when I wanted someone at work.” You confess. 

Tim's eyes widen as he absorbs your words before he chuckles, "you mean you were lusting after Jackson?" He teases, knowing the nearly retired old man is not the one you wanted. "I, uh, seriously though...I didn't know. I was a little busy eying you up without being a creepy asshole." He admits, licking his lips.

“You shouldn’t have worried about being creepy.” You smile softly. Despite the fact that you had been junior to him. It’s one of the reasons you respect him, he wouldn’t abuse his authority. Now both of you are equals, so there is no worry about improprieties. “Although now you can eye me up however you want.”

"Well that's good to know." His eyes slowly trail along your body, enjoying the fact that he can unashamedly admire you. "You're so fucking pretty, baby." He says after a moment, his fingers flexing around the beer bottle.

“Do you want to eat and talk, talk or just eat?” You ask, not sure what he wants to do. Despite the fucking that had happened at the station, you still want to touch him, but you know you can’t just act like a horny teenager.

"Let's talk and eat. You need to eat after how I - you know." He clears his throat and blushes a little. "I kinda - I kinda wanna touch you again but only if you want." He adds, suddenly nervous.

“I want to touch you too.” It’s endearing that he had fucked you so hard earlier and now he’s blushing. “If you want, of course.” You smirk slightly as you turn back to the cabinets to get the plates and silverware.

Tim’s eyes drop down to your ass as you get the plates. “Of course I want to.” He scoffs like you asked him a ridiculous question. “Baby, let’s sit down and eat. You need food after I - well, I’m starving.” He admits, taking out the containers after opening the bag.

You hum, dipping out some of the food onto plates and take them over to the small table while Tim carries the beers. “We do need to refill the tanks, so to speak.” You laugh. “I have to admit, I was shocked when you kept fucking me.”

“So was I!” Tim exclaims with wide eyes. “I ain’t eighteen anymore and I- shit - that kind of stamina…not my normal gig I gotta be honest. Usually I cum once and that’s it. I need a nap and a snack before I’m ready to go again.”

“A nap and a snack, huh?” You giggle at that, finding him too cute and you lean over to press a kiss to his lips. “I’m normally a ‘once and I’m good’ kind of girl too. But tonight?” You point to his sweet and sour chicken. “Eat your snack baby.”

He grins, liking the way you think and he must admit he’s eager to have you again. He grabs a plate to start serving up his food and he grabs his beer and follows you into the living room after you’ve grabbed your own plate. “You wanna watch something on RV?” You ask and Tim bites his lip, “maybe not the best considering the last thing we watched.”

You snort and nod, biting your lip as the two of you sit down. “So, where do you see this going?” You ask quietly. “Something serious? Causal? I wouldn’t blame you after the divorce.”

Tim sets his plate down on your coffee table, "honestly? I kinda want to date you. I want to take you out for dinner and see where this goes." He admits, "unless you want casual but...I'm not really a casual kind of guy."

“I don’t really like casual either.” You admit, turning towards him after setting your own plate down. “I would have put up with it for you.”

He's taken back at your confession and he smiles, "guess we both suck at casual. I was thinking about asking you out, you know? I just didn't want to be that creepy older guy that asks you on a date and makes it awkward at work when you said no."

“I would have said yes.” You promise, leaning in and touching his hand. “Tonight just….sped up the timeline.” You joke. “And will give us one hell of a first date story.”

Snorting, he nods as he takes a bite of orange chicken as he squeezes your hand with his free one. “Yeah. Maybe we can edit it a little bit.” He teases, “and hopefully you include the detail of me having a big cock.” He jokes, winking at you.

You giggle and your cunt clenches. “Don’t worry. That fact will be repeated with the high praise on how well you use that cock.” You promise. “Don’t think I’ve ever been fucked so well.”

Tim can’t help but grin with pride at your statement and he swears he will make you feel that way if you let him touch you again. “Sounds good to me, sweetheart.”

Both of you finish your meal, chatting about different things, different cases you had been working on. Setting your plate down with a content sigh, you drain the last drops of your beer and look over at Tim. “So, do you want to go back to my bedroom? We could take a nap, or….”

He watches you for a moment, “bedroom…I wanna touch you in a bed. I wanna have my mind be my own when I touch you next.” He says, reaching for your hand to pull you closer so he can lean in and press his lips to yours.

You can agree with that. As much as you needed him back at the station, you want to be in control. This time, your arms go around his neck because you want to keep the kiss going, slowly feeling his mouth out as it starts to deepen.

His tongue slides against yours and he groans into your mouth, loving how you feel as your fingers tangle in his hair. “Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth when you’re a little rougher but he loves it.

You love how his embrace is solid. The steady weight of him beside you makes you shift to straddle him. Settling back into his lap and pressing close, there’s not the urgency of before, but you are learning each other

His hands trail along your body, enjoying how you feel pressed against him, and the kisses are slow, passionate and he loves it. His hands slide down to squeeze your ass and he can’t resist slapping your cheeks before he grabs them again.

“Tim!” You gasp into his mouth and laugh, enjoying the smug smirk on his handsome face. Reaching up, you tangle your fingers back into his hair as you continue to make out. You know how he feels inside, but this is almost more intimate.

He kisses along your jaw, down your neck and bites gently over your pulse. “You’re so Goddamn beautiful. Inside and out. Why you want me, I’ll never know.” He confesses, knowing he’s fucked up but he’s gonna take this opportunity to be with you by the fucking horns and ride it as long as you want him.

“Because you are a good man.” You’ve seen plenty of men who pretend to be good but they are rotten at their core. Tim Rockford is honest, noble. “I want to take you to bed,” you confess softly. “Can you go again, or should we just cuddle?”

Tim nods, "I can go again." He is surprisingly half hard and he rocks up to grind against you, showing you he can be ready. "Let's go to your bedroom." He says, smacking your ass again and you stand up. He stands up after you and takes your outstretched hand as you guide him to your room.

In your bedroom, that’s where your personality shines. The bright, beautiful colors of your bedding and the natural light. The bookshelves are loaded down with novels and the slightly messy open closet door. “Sorry.” You move to close the door. “Didn’t think I would have company today when I left.”

Tim snorts, "this is nothing. You should see my place. It's chaos. My boy leaves his fucking legos on the floor and guess who steps on them in the middle of the night?" Tim asks you, eyebrows raised.

You giggle, imagining him cursing and stumbling over the blocks in the dark. “Ouch.” You wince sympathetically. “I know that hurts.”

"It does." He tells you with wide eyes, glancing around your room before he exhales softly and steps closer to you. He reaches up to cup your cheek, "I really do think you're beautiful." He murmurs, his dark eyes burning into yours. "Can I eat you out?" He asks, curious if you'll be happy for him to do that.

It’s your turn to be surprised by the request. “I- yes.” You sputter. “It’s- are you sure? You want to do that? I mean, I’m not complaining, but we- you came inside me.”

Tim snorts, “I put it there. I’m sure I can clean up my mess.” He says and smirks at you, reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Let’s get naked. I wanna see all of you. Wanna taste every inch of you. Take my time.”

“It’ll be nice seeing you this time.” You admit with a grin, letting him pull your shirt over your head and reaching for the buttons of his collared shirt. “Never had a boyfriend who would go down on me after sex.” You admit with a giggle.

Tim lets you push his shirt off of his shoulders and he’s a little self conscious. He’s not toned. He’s strong but he’s not abs and no body fat. He likes his food and he doesn’t tend to have a lot of time to exercise. He flusters slightly when you run your fingers down his chest.

“Sexy,” you coo softly, wanting to touch and kiss every inch of him. You knew that you were attracted to Tim, but your cunt is dripping at the sight of his chest and he hasn’t even removed his pants yet. “So fucking sexy.”

“You are.” He hums with a smirk and he reaches for your bra, unclasping it to pull it down your arms before he flings it across the room. “Baby. Fuck. You’re so sexy.” He murmurs and reaches up to cup your tits, squeezing them. “Great tits.”

You laugh, amused at the awe-filled look on his face as he palms your tits. As if he can't believe that he is touching them. "You've got a great cock." You hum, reaching down and cupping him. "Feels good. I want to see how it feels in my mouth instead of my pussy."

Tim groans at your filthy words. "Shit baby. You - you are fucking incredible." He compliments you as he gropes your tits. "Wanna - wanna make you cum. How do you wanna cum?" He asks, curious and eager.

You whine, eyes closing at the feeling of his hands on your body and the promise in his words. Anything you want is yours it seems. “I want you to eat me out.” You admit breathlessly. If his head game is good, this man is the complete package.

"Fuck. Take your pants off." He demands, his cock aching in his pants and he decides to push them down after unbuckling his belt. His boxers soon follow after he kicks off his shoes while you strip down to nothing. "Shit. So fucking gorgeous. Lay down." He demands again, the edge in his voice is raspy but commanding.

You shiver, laying down and wondering why it’s so sexy that he is taking control. You watch him, greedy as your eyes roam over his nude body. “Come here.” You beg, wanting him to touch you.

He shifts to kneel on the bed, his hands trailing along your thighs until he's pushing your legs open so he can take in the sight of your cunt. "Fuck, I-" He can't say another word as he surges forward to bury his face in your cum slick folds.

Crying out, your hands tangle in his hair. Closing your eyes, you enjoy how eagerly his tongue flicks over your clit. It’s magical, breath stealing as he devours you. Making you so glad that you had invited him home.

He groans into your flesh, loving how you taste, and he hisses when you tug on his hair in a way that makes his cock twitch against your sheets. His fingers dig into your thighs as he keeps you spread open so he can devour you.

Tim isn’t proper when he is eating you out. He’s messy, ravenous. The sexy little grunts and sighs as he takes you apart with every flick of his tongue has you moaning his name, rolling your hips down to meet his eager tongue.

"Fuck. You taste-" He groans as he pulls back for a second before he surges forward to bury his face in your folds again. He loves the tangy taste of your arousal and the salt of his cum. He doesn't give a shit about tasting his own essence on your flesh and he laps at your clit.

“Tim, oh fuck, baby.” You moan, rolling your hips again and whimpering his name once more when he tightens his grip on you.

He shifts, letting go of your flesh so he can push two thick digits inside of you. Calloused from holding a pen all the damn time and he curls them before he resumes sucking on your clit like a candy.

“Shit.” You hiss, shuddering and your breath catching at the curl of his fingers deep inside of you. Pressing perfectly against that magical place that makes you squeal out his name when he presses again.

He groans your name, “that’s it baby. That’s it.” He mumbles into your cunt when your walls flutter around his fingers, pressing against that spot over and over again. “Cum for me.” He demands before he resumes sucking your clit.

It doesn’t take you long. Only a few more minutes before he is pulling you apart. Your nerves fraying and your entire body bursting with pleasure when you start to come apart. Crying out his name and flooding his mouth with your cum.

Tim eagerly laps up every drop. He pumps his fingers into you, loving how you moan and writhe under his mouth. He caresses your thigh as he works you through it until he feels you relax, practically melt into your mattress.

You whimper, letting go of his hair and trying to drag him up to you for a kiss. Desperate to give him the same kind of pleasure that he had just given you.

His lips meet yours and he slowly withdraws his fingers, enjoying the way you slide your tongue against his and his wet digits grip your thigh. “Wanna be inside of you again.” He murmurs between kisses he presses to your jaw, needing to hear you say you want him again.

“You don’t want me to suck your cock?” You ask breathlessly. You’ve imagined it so many times but if he would rather fuck you, you are all for it. “I will always want you inside me.”

Tim bites his lip as you lay under him. “I kinda want you to suck my cock. Then I want to fuck you.” He decides and you giggle, pushing on his chest. He obediently shifts to lay down, his hard cock resting on his stomach and you move onto your knees.

“Fuck.” You whimper, wrapping your fingers around his cock and giving him a slow squeeze. “Imagined myself on my knees for you so many times.” You admit. “Even wondered if I could fit under your desk.” That makes you giggle again, imagine having his cock down your throat while he types up a report. “Now I get to taste you.” Lowering your head, you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, tongue pressing against the bead of pre-cum.

“Oh fuck.” Tim hisses when you take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around the head of his cock. “Baby. You look so pretty like this.” He murmurs, unable to close his eyes, wanting to see every second of this and burn it into his memory.

You preen under his praise, taking him deeper and wanting to give him the best blowjob he’s ever had in his entire fucking life. Holding onto his hip while you take him down to the back of your throat and swallowing around him.

“Jesus.” Tim hisses as you swallow around him, your jaw almost unhinged as you take him deeper and your eyes are watering. “Fuck, sweetheart. Look so good.” He murmurs, reaching down to caress your cheek, enjoying the feel of his cock pressing against your cheek.

You hum, letting it vibrate through him with a grin. Enjoying the feeling of his hand on your cheek while you concentrate on not choking. You want to take him deeper, to wrap your lips around the base and you slide your fingers out from around the base to hold onto his hips.

“Oh oh oh shittt.” He hisses before he pants, his cock twitching down your throat as your nose brushes the coarse hair at the base of his cock. “Baby. Baby. Shit. You gotta - I can’t - it’s too much.” He admits and grabs the back of your neck, trying to pull you off of his length.

You lift off of him with a gasp of air. “You don’t want to-“ you bite your lip but Tim shakes his head. “Want to be inside you.” He reminds you, rolling your body under his again and your legs fall open to brace on either side of his hips.

He’s slower this time. Hovering over you, he reaches down to grip his cock and he positions himself at your entrance. He pushes into you, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he braces his hand on the side of your head.

This time, he slides into you an inch at a time. Slow enough that you swear you feel his heartbeat fluttering against your pussy walls. Letting you moan softly and wrap your legs around his back, heels pressed into his tiny ass as you enjoy being split open by him again.

He exhales shakily once he’s fully inside of you. Groaning your name as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Fucking perfect.” He murmurs, cock twitching when you clench around him. “Gonna take our time. Want you to cum again for me.”

As frantic as the time in the station was, this is equally as slow. More like love making than anything else as Tim slowly pushes and drags his cock in and out of your walls. It's a good thing, since you are a little sore from earlier, but you wouldn't have him stop for anything in the world as you two kiss.

His lips press against yours over and over again, his weight shifting onto his forearms so he can press his body against yours. Your heels dig into his ass, pushing him impossibly deeper with every thrust into you and he swears he could stay like this forever.

You moan his name, holding him tight as you move with him. Wanting to be as close as you can get without crawling up inside his skin. “Fuck.” You whimper, his pelvis rubbing against your clit as he grinds down into you. It’s intense and totally consuming in the best possible way as he builds you back up.

"So fucking beautiful. So fucking smart. Too good for me. Too fucking good for me." He murmurs as he kisses along your neck while he rocks into you, his hand reaching back to lift your thigh higher so he can grind even deeper into you.

“Why?” You gasp out, unable to comprehend why he would think you’re too good for him. “Handsome, smart, sexy, capable.” You groan, clenching around him. “You’re a fucking catch.”

Tim chuckles against your neck. “I fucking - I got more baggage than a Goddamn airport, baby girl. I gotta - I have an ex wife and a son. It’s not - most women don’t wanna get involved in the drama.” He explains breathlessly as he rocks into you.

“No drama.” You moan, tightening your legs around him. “Mileage.” You tease playfully. Despite having an ex-wife, you know that he’s a good man, not a perfect one - but a good man. His son, well, he would be part of the deal and you couldn’t imagine thinking otherwise.

“Mileage.” He repeats with a chuckle. “Like an old corvette.” He jokes and slides his hands under you, getting even closer to you. His hips rock against yours a little faster, wanting to feel you cum around him.

“Classics are still fucking sexy.” You whimper when he hits deep inside you, striking the perfect angle. “There, fuck, right there Tim.” You beg, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He frowns, concentrating on that spot to make you cum. He pushes into you a little faster, not changing the angle of his hips and he watches your brow furrow and your mouth fall open. “Shit baby. Look so good.” He murmurs, “You gonna cum for me?”

“Yes!” You gasp, feeling the tension nearly snap the next time his hips rocket forward. Almost cumming right then. You just need one more thrust. Your body lurches when he pulls back, lifting up to meet him, and you squeal his name when he thrusts back into you, making stars erupt behind your eyes.

“Shit.” Tim hisses when you clamp down on his cock. “That’s it baby. Shit. So tight.” He pants, loving how wet you feel around him as your nails dig into his back. He works you through it, slow and deep despite the vice grip on his cock, and he kisses slowly along your neck.

“So good.” You whimper, panting for breath as you come down from your high. “Want you to cum.” You murmur softly. “Fill me up again.”

Tim clenches his jaw, his pace picking up a little more as you tell him to cum. He pants, rocking into you harder and faster, practically folding your body in half as he seeks his own high until he chokes, his body coming to a halt as his cock twitches. His hot cum paints your walls and he hisses your name as he rides his orgasm.

He’s fucking gorgeous when he cums. His eyes are closed, jaw slack with pleasure as he pumps you full of cum. Groaning and twitching deep inside of you, making you moan again. “Fuck baby.” You coo, caressing his neck and cheek. “Amazing.”

He exhales heavily as he relaxes. His lips meet yours as he leans down to kiss you. The kiss is slow, his tongue caressing yours, and he enjoys being inside of you.

You let the kiss linger, not in any rush to pull away and you don’t drop your legs from around him until your breathing has calmed down.

Tim nudges his nose against yours, shifting onto his side with you while he's still inside of you, not wanting to pull out just yet. "So I should definitely take you on an actual date." He says, his dark eyes on you.

“Maybe.” You smile as you answer him, leaning up for another kiss. “Maybe a romantic crime scene. We can flirt over evidence markers.”

Tim chuckles, “we do that anyway. But I mean, an actual dinner. Wanna take you out. Wine and dine you. What do the kids say nowadays?” He teases, nudging his nose against yours. “Well, they say Netflix and Chill.” Tim snorts, “pretty sure we already did that. Snuff Tape and Fuck.” He jokes before his face gets serious, “dinner. Wanna treat you right.”

“That sounds good to me, detective.” You murmur with a smile. While you don’t know why the film came to be in your possession or who had made it, you’re sure that you’ll figure it out. After all, Tim Rockford is a legend on the police force, solving cases and in this case, putting this one to bed.

#pedro pascal #tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford smut #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford imagine #merge mansion

[pelova4president]

Focus II

Salma Paralluelo x Reader

focus I

summary~ You move on, she doesn’t. spoiler, you don’t really move on.

your new normal was everything but fulfilling. This pointlessness cycle of living was eating you alive.

Driving to training, kicking a ball for a few hours and eating with teammates that didn’t even trust you with the ball. You didn’t have a place in the starting line-up anymore and everyone ignored you. You were becoming invisible, a nobody.

Days were especially hard when you were free. You didn’t go outside and no one was contacting you. You felt loneliness on a whole new level. When you had broken up with Salma, there were still people around you but now you’d scared them off. They didn’t know what to do with you anymore.

Real Madrid has been your home for far too long, and somewhere you knew that. Deep down knew you needed an extreme change. But you held on to this ideal idea with a firm grip.

Real Madrid wasn’t your home anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time now. And the team made that clear when they sat you down.

“Look, we just think you need a different challenge, a fresh start.” Olga said, a warm smile on her lips. “It’ll be better for you.” Misa rubbed your back soothingly.

You rolled you eyes at that and scoffed. “It’ll be better for us all.” Misa corrected herself this time. You heard agreement across the room. Clearly they had wanted this for a while now.

You were already out of their lives in their heads, they just needed you completely gone. Out of sight out of mind.

So you moved, it wasn’t like you had a choice in this. Man City was running low on defenders and payed the biggest transfer fee. From your sunny Spain to the rainy Manchester weather.

Stepping out of that warm sticky plane you felt your warm sweat turning your heated body cold. Refreshing. You needed to see this new chapter as a new beginning, another chance.

When Salma heard you left Real she was puzzled. No way you would’ve left your dream club just like that, with no fight. And what she had expected was confirmed.

The striker heard Lucy and Ona talk about the transfer. “Why did she leave? She loved Real with her whole heart, that was her home.” Lucy asked.

Ona sighed, “We all know it wasn’t going her way there, she was stuck. I think she might’ve just left because there wasn’t anyone to keep her here anymore, in Spain.” she explained.

It was silent for a moment before Lucy spoke again. “She was head over heals for her, wasn’t she.”

“I know, she still is. I spoke to Olga earlier, she said that she just wasn’t functioning anymore. She had to leave Spain.” the Spaniard said quietly.

Salma wasn’t aware of this. Why would you break up with her if you still loved her?

She wanted to talk to you. Tell you that she had wanted to keep your relationship more private, out of the spotlights. That she wanted you just for herself. But then you cut her off, you told her it was over. That you were done.

The days in Manchester went by just the same. It was hard and tough. Atleast you knew your team back in Spain, you barely know anyone here.

Salma kept being on your mind, it was hard to forget her. How could anyone forget her. She had a sparkle you hadn’t seen in anyone before. She lit up any room when she walked in and brought out the best in you.

So instead of hurting and torturing yourself any more you focused. Your mind was set. Football was it. Manchester City had an amazing season and you were ready to destroy the Champions League. This was your year.

And you held yourself onto that. You got through the groupstages. Ajax, Wolfsburg and Juventus were all beaten.

The first leg of the Quarter-Finals away had ended up in a 1-2 for your team. And at home you won with 3-0 against Bayern.

This meant a Semi Final against the prize holders, FC Barcelona Femení.

And somehow Salma was still wondering through your mind. She was still there and you were giving up on forgetting her, so you ignored her. Every single sign of her.

Salma wasn’t though. She had you in her mind for the last few weeks. The striker wanted to know what was going on. Why did you leave her. What did you see. What did you think. She just wanted to know.

Salma knew you weren’t going to answer if she called, so she didn’t. She wanted you to see her, to hear her.

That’s how you found her, drenched infront of your doorstep. A cocky smirk finding it’s place on her face.

“Couldn’t you just move to a warmer country.” she laughed.

The smile you had on before you opened the door had dropped. “Or just don’t go to England.” you said, tone flat. When Salma didn’t respond you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Well, see you tomorrow i guess.” you told her before closing your door.

“-wait. Mi amor, wait.��� Salma reacted.

“Don’t call me ‘mi amor’. I’m not your love, Ona is.” you said coldly.

Salma’s face fell. “Wait.. what- she isn’t.” Your eyebrows furrowed at that. “Ona isn’t my girlfriend. Where did you hear th- no..” your lovers face was puzzled, she was thinking. “Mi vida, is that why you broke this off. You thought i cheated on you?” she asked you with a broken voice.

“Salma, it was all over the news. You texted me, you wanted to break up.” you told her.

“Amor i didn’t want to break up. I just wanted you. I wanted to keep our relationship out of the spotlight, to keep it to ourselves. I just wanted you.” Her voice had completely broken down to a soft whisper. “I wanted you just to myself.” she stepped towards you.

“Salma, i- i don’t know.” you sighed.

“Please, i just want to see you.” Salma breathed.

You let her in. There wasn’t much you had to say to her. She said she didn’t cheat and you had to take her on her word.

Maybe it was the hope in you. Or the desperation. But you believed her. You wanted to believe her, so so badly.

And when the game came around the next day, Salma had already disappeared. The morning flew by and you were sat in the dressingroom. The music was playing through the room and there were players dancing, singing, braiding hair and drawing, whatever kept them cool.

You checked your shoes, like always. Put your hair in a bun, like normal. You walked through the tunnel, like you had done all of your games. You looked at your opponent, as usual. You were playing a game against Barcelona, against the best, against Salma, like you had done a million times.

The game was hard, honestly any game was at this level. But the feelings were your biggest concern. This didn’t end well last time.

You got your confidence back when you passed a ball to Casparij, who gave a deep one back. You made a run for goal and shot. The ball flew through the air, and even with the best efforts of Paños, it went in. In the corner of your eye you saw the ball crossing the white line.

Your teammates ran towards you and you were attacked from all sides. It was chaos and it was the most at home you’ve felt since you joined the blue club.

But the game wasn’t over, Barça wasn’t done.

Aitana made a dangerous tackle, passed to ball to Graham. Caroline was unstoppable, everyone knew it. When she dribbled past a City defender and made a cross it was over. The ball landed perfectly onto the right foot of Paralluelo and into Keating’s goal.

She celebrated like she had done many times before, but only on El Clásico’s. She kissed her wrist, for you.

“Nunca hemos terminado, mi vida.” Salma winked.

A/N my next fic will be domestic because i love little love families 🤭 who should i write for?

#woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #barca femeni #man city women #salma paralluelo x reader #salma paralluelo #ona batlle #barca women #barca femini x reader

[princessbrunette]

oh but bounty hunter rafe who loses you when he takes you to pick up a few things for the motel and hes freaking out, not even because he lost you and his dad would kill him but because hes worried bout you🫠

⊹₊ ︵︵︵﹒ㅤ🎀﹒︵︵︵ ₊˚⊹

and when he finds you you’re shaking, not because you were scared of being lost but because you were scared of getting in trouble with him. the two of you on completely different pages, rafe suddenly finds you and grabs you by the shoulders— yanking you into his grip. you tremble like a wet dog, tears in your eyes, breath hitching.

before he can even speak, you start rambling. “i— i didn’t mean to, rafe i swear it i was just looking at something and then you disappeared — i didn’t run away, i — i wouldn’t — i wasn’t —”

“hey,” he finally successfully cuts you off, after repeatedly trying throughout your upset babble. “are you okay?” he speaks slowly, loudly like you were struggling to comprehend even the simplest of things. you swallow before sucking in a shaky breath, brain lagging for a moment as the lashing you expected had not yet come.

“…i — what?”

“are you okay? it’s dangerous out here, alright? you could get hurt. don’t wander off.” you sense the worry in his tone as his thumbs creep up to rest on your jaw.

“i didn’t mean t—”

“i know you did not mean to. okay? i know you wouldn’t run. i’m just saying… be careful. yeah?”

he stares you down for a moment and it’s only then you accept that he’s not mad at you, just concerned. it puts you at ease somehow, a warm feeling spreading through your chest— like he was trustworthy, someone who could protect you despite being the person to have stolen you in the first place.

“okay.”

“alright. good.” he licks his lips, taking a step back like he’d noticed how soft on you he was being before wrapping a hand around your arm. “stay close this time alright? won’t be so nice next time.”

⊹₊ ︶︶︶﹒ㅤ🎀﹒ ︶︶︶ ₊˚⊹

#anon #bountyhunter!rafe #rafe cameron prompt

[random-posts680]

“•Don’t come looking for me •”

Feyd-Rautha x reader

A/n: this is a Drabble I’ve been working on for the past week and I will most likely make a part two!!

Synopsis: You use your job to hide on different planets from a family feud. While living on Giedi prime you catch the attention of the Na-Barron himself and create very close ties with him. The time you have on the planet though is unfortunately short lived, you flee, leaving behind the man you’d, unknowingly made fall in love with you, Feyd-rautha

Other mentions: soft!Feyd, Feyd is obsessed with reader, reader is oblivious, this turned out a bit angsty but part two will tie it up.

Warning: mentions of blood, mentions of death, blade to readers throat, blade mentioned, Feyd is a whole warning in himself.

Everyone knew how cruel and sadistic the Baron harkonnens nephew was.

Everyone knew just what he was capable of.

Anyone who’d ever talked to him without being murdered by his own hands would tell you he was truly terrifying and psychotic, a being who is completely incapable of any feelings such as love, vulnerability, gentleness….

Everyone knew that.

Everyone, but you.

You and feyd-Ruathas entire friendship was rooted from a mishap. You were someone from a far away planet who had come to study the ways of the harkonnens on Giedi Prime, at least that’s the job profile you displayed to them.

The day you arrived there, not a single harkonnen payed you much attention and you weren’t bothered by that, going about your business daily, studying the planet, and occasionally watching the brutal battles in the arena.

Not a soul on Giedi Prime had any idea who you were and what your actual reason was for exploring their planet, and you intended to keep it that way. Keeping your existence to a low and never acting out. Your appearance alone already stood out enough among the harkonnens. The last thing you needed was word getting out of your inhabitants on Giedi prime.

Life on the black and white planet wasn’t as bad as many people picked it out to be. You stuck to your “job” and lived peacefully in your guest coordinates. You ate well, slept well, and trained just fine on your own. Until the day your tranquility was disturbed.

That day you and him crossed paths was by far the most chaotic day you’d had on the planet. You had your things huddled in your arms, your com was ringing with a call from your research centre, your mind was thinking of the quickest way back to the guest chambers, yet your feet were taking you elsewhere.

After realizing you were completely lost, you took a bit to calm down and found the nearest bench along the walls of the stronghold and answered the com to update your work place of your progress on Giedi Prime.

Once the call was over, you grabbed your things, and once again realized you had no idea where the hell you were. You let out a sigh as you turned on your heels only to be met with a blade thrust up against your jugular.

Your feet instantly halted.

“Where are you wondering to?” The person holding the blade rasped out. ‘Shit’ Despite your initial panic, you just simply wanted to get back to your guest room, the day had already been stressful enough and you weren’t the type to be afraid of some sick harkonnen who wanted a rise out of a foreigner. ‘First few weeks on this damn planet and I’m about to get slaughtered for walking in the wrong area.’

You knew the harokenns were a driven race but this was just pretentious.

“I’m trying to find the guest chambers, this place is like a maze, I got lost along the way.” You drawled out, keeping the annoyed tone down a notch, doing your best to not anger the male with the blade.

Seconds went by before he withdrew the knife. As soon as he did you whipped around to face the offender and your heart hammered when you came face to face with the Na-Baron himself.

What you didn’t know is that when your eyes met, Feyd-rauthas heart started to hammer too.

The harkonnen paced around you a few times looking you up and down as you stood still, a skeptical look displayed on your face, yet an intrigued expression on his. ‘What the hell is he doing?’ Your train of thought was stopped when he came closer to you, his face neared yours, his breath tickled your nose and his lips twitched ever so slightly when he was just inches away.

Moments passed but with each one you felt your facade slipping away. You nervously drew your lips into a line as he made eye contact with you once again. His deep blue eyes held something that you couldn’t read. Your act was about to crumble before him.

A few more seconds passed and it was as if your unspoken prayers had been answered when he backed up and simply walked the other way down the hall. You watched with a perplexed look during his exit.

Once he was out of your line of sight you blinked away the look and shook off the interaction. ‘What the actual fuck just happened’ you were completely baffled. He just let you go, no further questions, didn’t give you any directions, and he had gotten so close?!?

You stood for a bit, conflicted. As for the Harkonnen himself, he was feeling waves of ambivalence.

He didn’t know if it was the beauty you possessed or the way your eyes seemed to sparkle with curiosity once you realized who he was, but from that moment on Feyd-Ruatha was infatuated with you.

The very next day he had come to find you. He’d looked into your cause and he was determined to be the one to show you the culture of the harkonnens.

At first, you weren’t amused with his persistence and it was a wonder to many how he didn’t just force you into letting him be around you. He was always finding ways to bother you after his duties and training. Being with you exhilarated him, the surge of emotions added a new type of pleasure to his days. He wasn’t going to give up an opportunity like this. And he definitely wasn’t going to let any other harkonnen be the one in his future spot next to you.

When you finally realized you weren’t getting rid of him you decided to accept it. You let him tag along on your explorations, let him teach you things about the planet, even going as far as him introducing you to his uncle and brother. (Which ended in Chaos and you two swore never again). Feyd had started to grow on you and you got used to his presence, you even started to enjoy it. It was nice having a friend on the planet, even one who was a blood thirsty murderer, but nonetheless, Feyd was never anything other than respectful and his interesting version of kind to you.

Each day was something new with you, while he was teaching you, you were also teaching him. You and him trained together, ate togther, and talked about almost anything and everything. The topics went from simple things to things that were more intimate and personal. You considered telling him the true reasons why you sprung from planet to planet “exploring,” but you decided it wasn’t wise considering that he may not understand or even believe you. Now, while you recall these memories you regret never telling him that you were in fact running from something.

Surprisingly, Feyd had actually opened up a few times and shared some of his twisted beliefs with you. Even if they were insane you did your best to understand him and point him in directions that would cause a lot less blood shed. To your surprise, he took some of your advice.

He hated how weak you could make him but at the same time he couldn’t get enough of you. He craved you deeply. Everyday he spent with you only made his need for you stronger. The smiles you’d give him, the gentleness of your hands when you would dress his wounds after an arena fight (If he ever had any injuries from the arena that is), the softness of your voice when you would teach him things from your home planet.

It was truly intoxicating to him.

Feyd was incredibly protective of you too. Not letting many get too close to you and always making sure you were unharmed by other harkonenns. Feyd himself had no desire to ever hurt you either, he actually despised the thought of hurting you altogether. It was one of the reasons he didn’t want to force your hand, no matter how badly he wanted his fantasies of you to come true, he knew he wouldn’t take joy in forcing them upon you.

It was safe to say you had worked miracles on him. You were the only being in the entire universe who could bring this side out of him.

Feyd-rautha oved you.

So the day you just disappeared out of no where was a day nobody enjoyed. When he’d realized your absence and was informed that no harkonnen on the face of Giedie prime had any idea where you had gone, he completely lost it. He killed everyone in the room with him in that moment.

He dropped as many bodies as he possibly could that day. Acting as though they were to blame for you disappearance.

He tried to track you, find a trail of where you may have gone, anything to bring you back to him. He looked for hours, not wanting to believe that the trail to your current location was completely cold. It was as if you’d vanished into thin air.

All of your belongings were left in your guest room. Nothing of yours was missing. The only thing that had gone missing the same day you did was…his blade.

The harkonnen thought the worst when he uncovered this detail. He thought of you fighting against some kind of enemy with his blade in hand, defending yourself all alone, while he had no way of protecting you. Feyd had never felt heartache but when he thought of you alone and scared, fighting for your life, it surged through his chest and even put warm, piercing lumps in his throat at times.

There was only one other piece of evidence, but it proved you were alive. A week after finding that his blade was missing he went to your room to search it once again. This time he found a note taped in one of your analysis journals. ‘I’m sorry, don’t come looking for me’ it’s writing was rushed and sloppy.

The harkonnen stared at it before the weight of the situation settled onto him. You had left, you had run away from him. But this also meant you were alive.

Feyds murderous tendencies only grew from then on. He killed for no reason now. Slaughtering anyone if they did something out of his comfort. His anger being taken out on servants, and the drugged slaves in the arena.

Feyd seemed to hate everything other than killing. But the one thing that drove him mad was the fact he couldn’t bring himself to hate you.

Each night he’d have dreams of you. Dreams of your hair flowing in the geidi prime wind. Your smile glowing as he shows you yet another trick of his. Your soft voice pulling him into a deep sleep. At the end of the day, this was the closest he could be to you. Sleep was his escape and Feyd-ruatha was desperate. He wasn’t ashamed to be lulled to sleep by the thought of you every night. His finger tips wrapping around the sheets when his dreams consisted of times with you.

Feyd and you and never been closer than mere friends but you also had no idea that you were everything to him.

Now, as you float through space months after you had made your escape, you replay those memories in your head. And you make a promise to yourself. You won’t get close with anybody again until you are done running.

————————————————————————-

A/n: Guys part two is coming

,I promise, I know this is ended sadly 😭

#dune part two #dune #dune movie #dune 2 #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd fanfiction #x reader #feyd oneshot #dune x reader #dune x you #dune imagine #imagine #cute #fluff #oneshot #dune part one #feyd rautha harkonnen #austin butler

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Brotherly Approval

quinn hughes x nhl player!reader

note: not super proud of this but learning that not everything has to be perfect as long as it's enjoyable for y'all to read

After spending two weeks with Y/n’s parents in Montreal, the couple made their way to the lake house. They were now getting close to the house so of course Y/n was thinking of everything that could ever possibly go wrong. Y/n had met Quinn’s family before, but they weren’t really official at that time, only having met them after games but with the possibility of cameras around it wasn’t what she wanted it to be. But now that she was staying with them for the summer it was time to make a good impression.

“But you’ve already met them.” “Well yeah, but that was just as your teammate… who you occasionally slept with, but now they’re meeting me as your girlfriend. It’s completely different.” “Clearly.” “I don’t appreciate your attitude.” “I was agreeing with you!” “No you weren’t.” They playfully fought back and forth a little more before Quinn pulled into the driveway of the infamous lake house.

Y/n was right, meeting them was different this time. Instead of a quick ‘hello’ then going on her way she was cooking dinners with Ellen, talking to Jim about off-season training, and spending days with the group on the lake. 

For once everything was good. And she was so thankful, she was with the man she loved, without herself in her own way of that. And he loved her back.

-

They’d been out on the lake for a while now, a couple were jumping in now that they were in a good spot. Y/n stood from where she sat next to Quinn and took off her shirt, which was actually one of Quinn’s old UMich shirts.

Subtly Quinn looks her up and down, admiring her body in her bikini, he notices the string on the side of her hip, seeming to want to come loose. He stops her wordlessly with a hand on the inside of her thigh and softly he pulls her more in front of him. Y/n seemed unbothered as she continued talking to Trevor who was in the water.

Luke glanced over hearing the girl’s laugh, as well as Trevor’s loud voice that was unmistakable, he watched his brother turn the girl so he could tie the otherside tighter and gave her a tap on her ass when he was done. 

The small moment, something that seemed meaningless, meant so much. The way Y/n was so comfortable, not for a second questioning why her boyfriend was messing with the strings of her bikini in public. And the way Quinn gave the action no thought. It made Luke hope he found that. Someone he was effortlessly comfortable with.

-

Y/n came back from the bathroom, deciding instead of sitting back on the chair to sit on Quinn’s lap. She was tired and needed the touch of her boyfriend, she knew he wasn’t big on pda but being this tired she wasn’t really thinking.

Quinn didn’t think too much of it, taking his phone into one hand and spreading his arms for her to sit. She sat sideways on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck then giving him a forehead kiss before laying her head on his chest. He also gave her a forehead kiss when she settled after he pushed the hair out of her face.

“Hi.” “Hi.” 

Jack turned his head after hearing the loving couple muttering to each other. Quinn had ever been this comfortable with pda from a girl in front of him ever. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but the smile on Quinn’s face and Y/n hiding her in his brother’s neck, he assumed he didn’t want to know. 

His assumption was proven right when Quinn lifted both of them from the couch and said they were going to ‘bed’. He couldn’t take his eyes away from them, he could tell Quinn was so happy. 

“He’s happy.” Jack said, glancing at Luke who was sitting next to him, Luke without looking away from the video game he was playing said, “Yeah he is. Y/n’s good for him.”

-

Lining up her shot, focusing and trying very hard to tune out the noise in the room as she plays pool against Luke. Softly hitting the white ball just enough for it to hit the striped ball into the corner pocket. Luke then circled the table, trying to find a shot. Y/n was smiling, she could tell she was going to win.

Quinn was on the other side of the room, he sat on the couch only half-listening to the conversation he was in with Jack and Brady. He couldn’t help it, he loved seeing his girl smiling, and he really loved seeing her get close to his brother’s.

“Q! Bro, were you listening?” “Kinda.” He replied to his brother’s annoying interruption from his favourite pass-time; watching Y/n smile and listening to her laugh. Getting a hit on his knee by said annoying brother he breaks his gaze from the girl to look back at the boys.

“What?” Brady was no longer there, unbeknownst to the man Jack had politely shooed Brady off, he got it he had a brother. “Damn, don’t have to be so annoyed. I just wanted to say I was happy for you. And that except for the fact that she loves you, she seems really cool.” “Aw gee, thanks.” “Me and Luke were talking when y’all went to ‘bed’ the other night. We both really like her.” 

Even though they joke a lot, Jack and Luke’s opinion meant a lot to Quinn; they were brothers. And hearing he had his little brothers’ approval of the woman he loved made him really happy. Though he’d probably only admit that to his mom and Y/n. 

“Thanks, man. Means a lot.” Jack got up with a nod and a pat on his brother’s back as he made his way to get another beer.

“Quinny! I won!” Her excited words cut Quinn from his thoughts, smiling when he saw how happy she was and moved her name up on the pool leaderboard.

~taglist~

@books-hlmc @bunbunbl0gs @alwaysclassyeagle

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x nhl player!reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x fem reader #quinn hughes x female reader #quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes fic #jack hughes #luke hughes #hughes brothers fic #hughes brothers #quinn hughes fluff #qh43

[rush-the-stars]

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART I

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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.5k || ao3 || Part II -> coming soon! || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

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✧ SPRING FEVER collab masterlist ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader if you squint, biting, blood, marking, eventual forced bathing in later parts, eventual forced feeding in later parts, eventual smut in later parts; masturbation, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: this is for @lorelune 's SPRING FEVER collab!! i have been working on this for awhile now and i am excited to share it! this should be about 3 parts...i am very close to finishing the whole thing so i should be releasing a part a week for the next two weeks!

thank you for reading!! i would love to hear your thoughts <333

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“I think you’d be perfect.” 

Suguru’s voice is a caress, low and soft, as he sits across from you. 

Somehow, he always makes you feel like he is just beneath the surface of your skin, even if there is a respectable distance between you. He always makes you feel as if he is lurking somewhere in the lowest parts of you, pulling at strings you once thought hidden to yourself. 

You’ve kept your distance for this reason.

You swallow hard. 

And then you manage to get your voice to unstick, to find it somewhere inside of you and bring it to life. It’s firmer than you’re anticipating and you’re proud;

“I don’t think I would be.” 

Suguru looks at you in a way that makes you feel as if he’s seeing through you, pulling you open slowly to gaze at all the inner workings of you. His dark eyes are keen, so sharp, even if they’re shaded by half-lidded lashes. 

He smiles pleasantly and indulges you, but you know he believes very firmly that he is, in fact, right, “why not?” 

“I told you when I agreed to join you—all I wanted in exchange for helping you, was to be an unbound Omega.” You force yourself to meet his eyes and to not get sucked into the dark tide of them. 

“You asked for my protection.” He reminds you. 

Your eyes flash this time, heated, a little spark that skitters to life inside of you.

“I didn’t—“ 

“Is that not what you’d call it?” Suguru asks, “when I interfered, every time, to be sure no other Alpha got to you? Or when I scented you to keep them away?”

Prickling warmth dots your cheeks, can feel at the back of your neck, too, the tips of your ears. You try a different tactic. 

“I’m not a homemaker.” 

His smile is soft, “I don’t want a homemaker.” 

“I’m not obedient.” You counter again, as if you could dissuade Suguru Getou once he’s made up his mind.

“You’ve been quite good for me.” Suguru says smugly and this time, a little noise of embarrassment or frustration eeks out of you. A short, sharp little growl from your throat, almost a groan of irritation.  

“I—I’m doing your dirty work. That’s our agreement! You give me assignments that I complete and in return, I get my freedom.” 

“I don’t know why you’re so opposed to this. Is it not similar already to what we have now?” He asks simply, “I’d still let you roam, if that’s what you’re so scared of.” 

“No it’s that—that power and mentality that I don’t want you to have over me.” You snap. 

“I already have it,” he says and it isn’t intended to be cruel, but certainly is, “how long do you think you’d last, without the protection of an Alpha?” 

“I didn’t have any before you.” 

“You were starving, injured, and constantly on the run before me.” You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off, “it would still give you what you want.” 

“I don’t want to be yours.” You say frankly, perhaps to be cruel yourself. And then you show teeth a little, flash them in warning, “I don’t want your mark.”

Suguru looks amused, if anything, by your display. 

His smile is knowing and insufferable. It makes your anger ratchet up inside of you, hackles rising. You feel a little growl working its way out of your throat. It tears out of you in annoyance, when he says, “I don’t believe you.” 

You slam the door so hard on its hinges that it rattles the entire wall. You wish it would rattle all the world. 

***

Your cursed technique rips to life like a star exploding outwards. 

Beast that you are, it overtakes you, transforms you until you are all claws and dripping, little fangs. Your body elongates, elegant, and built for speed, viciousness. The horns atop your head are sharp, too, curled the slightest into a crescent shape. The beast in you stretches and pulls at your bones, fits your skin to it in a way that you have come to know well. 

(“Cursed technique: Cursed Creature,” Suguru hums, “allows you to turn into a cursed version of yourself, a sort of,” he pauses, looking you over, “monster?” 

“That’s right.” You tell him, body trembling all over, in dire need of food. Care. Sleep. 

He places a large hand on top of your head, strokes gently, until his hand nudges your cheek, beneath your chin so you are forced to look up into his eyes. Depthless violet. 

“You have a deal.”)

The sorcerer is cast backward with the force of your transformation. In this form, everything heightens, sharpening into brilliance. So much brighter, clearer. So much more overwhelming. 

You are a flash of darkness when you move, a mass of lethality. 

The sorcerer doesn’t stand a chance, the moment you dash past him with a deep swipe of your claws, you know this will be an easy match. You chitter in this form, excited, warbly little sound erupting from you before you careen towards him again. 

This time, he is warped away. 

But you are fast, changing your trajectory mid-step to catch up to where he was warped. 

Except, this time, a white haired sorcerer takes his place. 

Your claws meet air. 

A growling hiss erupts from your throat. 

Satoru Gojo. 

Suguru told you to stay away from him. At all costs.

And speak of the devil, your name is called, whistled almost. Your head turns to find Suguru appearing, too. 

Faintly, the more human part of you wonders what the occasion is. 

For a moment, all you can see is threat. Your hackles rise as your growling gets lower, more sinister, your form moving behind Gojo as if you might circle him, unable to let down your guard. 

“Call off your pet,” Gojo says. 

Suguru calls your name again and there’s something else in his tone now, a little sharper. 

(Fear, you wonder faintly, in some far away part of your mind. Is he worried Gojo would hurt you?)

You come to heel at Suguru’s side, remaining in this form, making a low, threatening sound still. Warning. Your claws still drip with the blood of that sorcerer. 

“Go,” Suguru says to you. 

Your head snaps to look at him, eyes narrowing. “I’m not leaving,” you snap and the words have a bite to it, around the curves of your fangs. You look back at Gojo. If this comes to blows, you don’t want Suguru facing Gojo alone–you don’t want to leave his back suddenly unguarded. 

It’s counterintuitive to you, goes against all of your instincts. You don’t leave him, you don’t leave his side, his back. 

“Go,” Suguru says, harsher this time and the command seeps into you. You waver. And then, “I won’t tell you again.” 

When you hiss at him in that warbling way of curses, he smiles faintly, almost fondly, as your teeth drip with venom. But you do listen to him this time.

And with your heightened hearing, you hear Gojo underneath his breath as you slink away;

“How interesting.” 

***

When Suguru returns to you, he is unharmed. 

You’d paced the length of the hallway outside of his room in the compound until you could have worn a hole into it. 

Few would be brave enough to wait for Suguru outside his door. 

When he arrives, he is mildly surprised to see you, before his expression melts into a sort of—smugness. A knowing glint to his eyes. 

“Why would you send me away?” You snap.

“You could’ve gone in, you know, if it would’ve soothed you.” Suguru says instead, head nodding towards the door to his suite. “Would you like a key?” 

You blanche, taking a half step back, “I don’t—“

It allows him to get to his door and open it. You’ve been here before, in the privacy of his suite, but now it feels strange. A little different. He holds the door open for you. 

You glance at the threshold and feel as if you’re making an important decision. 

“Come on,” he says smoothly and before you can think twice about it, you are being led inside, his hand drifting somewhere near your lower back. He never touches you, the feeling is a phantom one, the impression of it. You shiver a little. 

But you round on him again, “why would you send me away?”

He doesn’t acknowledge you, instead he goes rifling in a drawer, digging around a little. 

His suite is larger than others. The living room is open and attached is the kitchen. It’s all light wood, with tall windows that overlook the courtyard. You know, despite never being inside, that his bedroom is down the hall and to the left. The bathroom is across from it. You’ve sat many times on the floor of his living room with him, going over assignments, plans that he has, and what he’d like you to do. 

When he finds what he’s looking for, he makes a soft noise, before turning to you with a small, gold key. 

“I don’t want a key!” You snap. 

“It’s a spare, take it just in case.” He replies and when you don’t move to grab it from him, he takes your hand in his much larger one, and opens your palm to him. 

He places the key in your hand. 

And then his eyes catch yours, “you were worried.” 

“No-!” you get out, “I don’t like being—I’m supposed to protect you.” 

Suguru smiles, hand still swallowing yours, “isn’t that sweet?” he remarks, “an Omega attempting to protect an Alpha.”

Immediately, you jerk away from him.

The key is still in your shaking fist. 

“Don’t start,” you snarl, low and vicious and hurt, “I’ve always been the one at your side.” 

“Yes,” he agrees, hand falling back down to his side listlessly. “I already told you that.” 

You’ve always been at my side, he’d said, when he was trying to convince you to–

“That’s not what I meant!” Your voice rises without your consent and you feel an embarrassed, angry flush through your face for being so worked up. The room is thick with your worry and anger and frustration, all of your pent up energy like a knot in your chest, in your voice. It’s in your heart and the way you look at him. 

“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” Suguru says easily, “it’s still the truth.” 

When you slam the door this time, you hear something fall from the wall. 

But the key is still in your trembling hand, digging indents into your palm, and your heart is still a beast in your chest.

And behind the closed door, Suguru Getou smiles fondly, and retrieves the fallen, shattered frame from the floor. 

***

For a while, you avoid Suguru. 

You stuff the key he gave you in your nightstand drawer, far in the back, in an attempt to keep it out of sight and out of your mind. 

And at first, you think he is respecting your boundaries; you receive assignments through others from him. You see him only in passing and he never speaks directly to you. He hardly acknowledges you. 

But after a week and a half, it begins to feel like punishment. 

And the key is starting to burn and itch in your mind. You think about it at night, tossing over in your bed; you think about unlocking his door at this hour. What would you find? Would he be asleep? Awake? Alone? Fully dressed? 

You think of him half bare and lounging, hair slipping over his shoulders, and the scent of sandalwood and fig. Tonka or something woodsy, maybe. You know it well and it lingers long after he leaves you. 

You suddenly miss it, crave it. 

Him. 

You twist beneath your sheets. 

Why did he have to–

You make a soft noise of frustration, turning over again. 

You’re restless. 

Something beneath your skin begins to itch and squirm. 

Previously, Suguru had hardly mentioned your status as an Omega. He rarely acknowledged it; you were too brilliant of a sorcerer for him to care, you thought. You were too powerful. The only instance he brought it up was to scent you, a form of caution in a particular instance, for a particular mission. The memory still simmers in your mind, the way he’d rubbed the gland on your wrist with a careful thumb. He’d given you clothes of his to wear. He’d had you sit in his quarters for long hours, until it seemed as if you were his, in some way. 

But now that he’s actually brought it up, offered you his bite, to be his, it paints him in an entirely different light. 

Had he always…wanted you? 

Was he always planning this? 

The naive, desperate parts of you want to believe this is a recent thought of his. Previous to this, he only ever saw you as another sorcerer, a powerful one that aided him. You had always been one of the closer ones to him, at his heel, his beck and call. 

You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of Suguru this way; as an Alpha. An unmated one, who kept your company. 

And he does, no matter how badly it burns to admit it, protect you.

You know he wards off Alphas. 

You know he perhaps does more than even that. 

But you don’t want—

You don’t want to be mated. 

You don’t want to suddenly be coddled by him, held back, don’t want to be the little thing that keeps his bed warm.

Your face heats with the thought. 

Images flash through your mind, flickering, melting together like film that bleeds and runs, of him overtop you. Shrouding you. His hair on your shoulders and back. You think of his mouth on your throat, teeth in your neck. 

You rub at your eyes suddenly as if to clear them.

You know he leaves on a mission for a week in two days. 

You assume, at some point, he’ll speak to you. And break this strange silence. 

You’ll both return to normal then.

And then perhaps you won’t lose any more sleep over him.

***

Suguru never says goodbye to you. 

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does—you just figured he’d finally drop this silly little silence game.

You suppose he must’ve thought the same of you.

Besides, what were you expecting from him? An apology? It’s foolish to even entertain. You knew you weren’t going to apologize either. The least you’ll do, when he returns, is  act as if all is normal again. Perhaps it’s better that way, not to address what he’s put in his head recently. 

The more you speak of it, or think of it, the worse it unravels in your mind. 

On the second day that he is gone, you realize you miss his scent. 

You realize it has become such a staple in your everyday life that its sudden disappearance  is almost alarming. It makes you more irritable, more vicious. You snap at the others faster, bite out insults and brutalities. 

You—

Well, you miss it. 

Him, maybe. 

The admittance is a hard one to swallow around. It burns going down. 

On the third day, you’re genuinely craving his scent in a way that makes your teeth ache. You had no idea you could even miss a scent like this, need it so bad that your body would betray you with a physical pain in your chest. Somewhere in your mouth, under your tongue. 

You try to ignore it. 

You go on with your life. 

But by the fifth day, you are agitated and aggressive. Everyone knows something is wrong with you. You know something is wrong with you. You can feel it beneath your skin, crawling, squirming. It makes you want to tear out your hair, rip at your nails, or sink your teeth into something. You’re restless.

You can’t sleep. 

You can hardly eat or think. 

And as you lay awake in your bed, kicking at sheets, sweating and twisting, you know what it is you need. 

You’ve known the whole week. 

You throw back the covers and wrench open your bedside drawer. 

The key rattles, hot, like it knows it’s finally about to be used. It’s musical sound a siren song, it’s been burning away in there the whole week. 

You swipe it and turn sharply from your bedroom. From your own apartment. 

It’s the middle of the night; not a soul sees you in the compound. 

Like a person possessed, you walk. Your back is straight. Your steps are quick. Your mind is set, on fire.

Suguru’s door has haunted you the whole week.

The key in your hand digs into the flesh, carving it’s divots there like your hand might be the lock itself. 

You try not to think about it–you unlock the door. You throw it open. 

You shut it behind you, slide the lock back into place. 

Darkness greets you.

You wander in like you know the place (you do, you do–)

You wander in like it’s yours to wander in. 

Instantly, something loosens inside of you. 

You exhale hard. 

Inhale sharp. 

The smell of him, fainter because he’s been gone, assaults your senses, sweeps over them. You take in a lungful like gasping for air, you smell faint traces of fig and sandalwood. Notes of tonka that you long for, that urge you to move deeper into his space. 

In the dark, you make your way down the hall, towards his bedroom.

You haunt the arch for a moment.

Guilt or regret or embarrassment almost seize you. They make you pause. 

Some sane part of you is clawing at your insides, wailing to turn around and leave. Leave now. 

But he gave you a key.

He gave you a key, you think in circles, again and again. He gave me a key. 

You cross the threshold.

You sink down into his bed and his scent is strongest here, even still, after several days it’s his. 

You turn over the covers to get beneath them, cool sheets against your legs, sliding and smooth. You turn your face into his pillow and inhale. 

A soft little groan works it’s way out of you.

Instantly, your muscles slacken. 

Everything leeches from you; your anger and irritation and restlessness. 

It soothes you so deeply and so swiftly it makes your head spin. 

You curl beneath his blankets and take deep pulls of breath, squirming a moment if only to bring his scent tighter around you. You envelope yourself in it.You shroud yourself in it. 

And finally, after five days of restless nights, you fall asleep almost instantly. 

Not a single dream. Not one moment where you wake or stir. 

You sleep deeply. 

In the morning, the sun warms you through the broad windows like a content cat. 

You stretch lazily like one, too.

Suguru will be home tomorrow. 

You know you need to leave his bed, hope that your scent dissipates by the time he returns. 

You didn’t do anything wrong, you know—he gave you a key. 

He gave you a key. 

But rather, you know he would never let you live it down. He would use it instantly, as ammunition for his argument, the debate that the two of you keep circling.

You don’t quite leave as quickly as you should still, though: 

You linger.

You’re comfortable.

Calmed for the first time all week.

And when you do slip out, it’s silently, locking the door behind you.

Like maybe you won’t ever let yourself back in there, trying to shut it like it was a one time indulgence and gone now from your mind and body. 

But his scent clings to you. 

And little do you know, your scent clings to his sheets—and to Suguru, it’s sweet as can be and unmistakable—irreplaceable.

He collapses in his own bed when he returns and knows you’ve been all over it. He can smell the crush of dark berries, jasmine, the soothing note of vanilla that clings to you, that he’s come to adore. 

He grins to himself and knows then, he’s got you right where he wants you.

***

For a moment, you think Suguru is going to make you be the bigger person and apologize upon his return. 

Instead, he finds you. 

And he doesn’t say he’s sorry for his recent behavior, but he does say;

“I’d prefer if you didn’t avoid me in the future.”

It feels like sorry enough. 

And for some time, things return to a state of normal.

A version of it.

It isn’t quite like it was before—in fact, you seem to spend more time around him than previously. He calls on you more. He brings you into his space more frequently, often urging you to eat with him, beside him, at his table.

This is ideal for you. Close but not too close.

Although, he begins to ask, don’t you have your key? Can’t you let yourself in? 

You say you haven’t used it.

He hums like he knows differently, but doesn’t press you.

Until finally he asks you to retrieve a notebook in his study and bring it to him.

Fetch, he says.

“It’s locked, isn’t it?”

“You have your key.” He answers simply, not looking up from the book he is reading. 

For a moment, you almost protest, but something stops you. Maybe the twitch in his brow.

It’s a useless argument to pick, anyways.

You do have a key.

It would be fastest, easiest, to just use it.

So you do. 

And you hand him the notebook he asked for, fingers brushing against his as he takes it from you with gentle hands.

“Thank you,” he adds, voice so smooth and low, almost tempting.

You swallow a little.

Then you quickly avert your gaze. 

“Whatever,” you grouse, but he smiles fondly, amused.

And it opens another door, more than just the one to his suite.

***

Tentatively, you begin to come and go.

The first (second)  time you use your key to enter without his order, he is careful not to react to you any differently than how he usually does. 

His eyes brighten a little, though, like a leopard that’s caught something interesting in its sights and is waiting to see what it’ll do. 

Still, you grow more comfortable entering his space on your own. 

You claim portions of it; a corner of the couch. A particular cushion around his low table. All of the sunny patches in his suite become yours, scented with you, indented with you. More than that, some horrible, hidden part of you adores that your scent is all over his space. 

It’s comforting to find it beside his scent. 

It soothes a part of you that you don’t wish to admit to. 

His hands grow bolder. 

Now they’re always hovering at the small of your back, the nape of your neck. He tucks strands of your hair away from your face and though you jerk away from him, it’s often half-hearted. You snip at him and he only smiles.

Pleased. Smug. Knowing. 

His hands guide you as you walk beside him.

You grow accustomed to his touch in some way—he makes sure of it.

Then, as if to prove something—

Another cult member begins to cause trouble with you; he is another Omega. He begins with snide comments and remarks that test your patience. He doesn’t stop until you are growling and bristled and ready for a fight. 

And all it takes to stop you is Suguru’s large hand coming down on the nape of your neck. 

His thumb rests atop one scent gland at your throat, fingertips pressing delicately into the one on the other side. Hand wrapped around the back of your neck.

“Easy,” he murmurs and just like that, you can feel some of your aggression slip from you, deflate like a balloon.

It’s involuntary, the energy and anger unspooling from your body in an instant. In the back of your mind, you’re alarmed; how easily it was for him to effect you. It’s terrifying.

You swat his hand away, lurching from him, another little growl in your throat.

But you don’t fight him or the look in his eyes, the way he tilts his chin up in the barest hint of dominance. 

You storm off.

Instances as such continue to happen, though, where he’s able to sooth or quell your temperament with a touch. A word. A look. 

It comes to a head while you’re eating dinner with him. 

“You’re so wound up,” Suguru comments lightly, “your scent is so sharp with it. What’s bothering you?” 

Reflexively, you snap, “you are.” 

And it’s meant to be some sort of insult but Suguru’s lips twist into this hitched little smile. “It’s my fault you’re wound up?” He asks lightly. 

“Don’t twist my words.” You respond, fixing him with a glare, “you bother me.” 

He’s still deeply amused by this, you can tell by the twinkle in his eyes. The smug way he holds himself. 

“Would you like me to help you?” He asks. 

“No,” you say reflexively. 

A beat of silence before he says, “come here. I’ll help you.” 

There’s a command in his voice, laced there, and doing something strange to your head. 

You hesitate.

He pounces, “just a massage.” He soothes, “I can tell your shoulders are knotted up and tense. I can see it.”

His voice has dropped into that soothing lull.

Warily, “away from my glands?” 

He smiles, “of course.” And then, “come here.”

Your body moves easily now and he murmurs, “sit in front of me. Back to me—there, that’s it.” 

It feels more vulnerable than it should to show your back to him, to sit in front of him like a child to their mother. You try to keep your posture straight and careful. 

But then he sets large, warm hands to your shoulders. His fingers dig into the meat of them gently, pressing into your muscles which spasm and twitch in pain. You yelp, jerking away. 

Suguru tsks, “see how tense you are? You’re in pain.” He scolds softly and you feel heat smart across your face, “sit still for me. I’ll be gentler.”

True to his word, he eases up, fingers careful as they run into your tense muscles.

He finds bundles of twisted up tension in your back and shoulders, pressing into them until a noise springs from you—a groan, a whimper, a little growl. He works the sounds out of you. You swear he’s doing it deliberately and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was all just to humiliate you a little. 

But you finally loosen and slacken for him. 

When you finally sink into his hands, he murmurs, “I don’t know why you fight this so badly.”

You let go of a heavy sigh, “you do know why. Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“Because you’re stubborn?” Suguru asks lightly and you snort, despite yourself, “because you don’t know what’s good for you?”

“You’re no good for me.” You respond.

Suguru’s turn to sigh and if he digs his fingers in to make you yip in pain, he’d never say it was purposeful. 

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

Reflexively, you jerk away from his touch, you turn to look at him over your shoulder with a sneer. 

“I’m not a pet.” 

Suguru does not heed your warning and instead gently pulls you back towards him by your waist. 

“No?” He asks lightly, fingers resuming their steady massage. You go completely still like prey, unsure, wary. Angry. Humiliated. “It’s not a bad thing to be a pet. You’re thinking about it all wrong.” 

His fingers ease up towards your neck and you stiffen again. 

“Suguru,” you say in warning as he nears your scent glands. Perhaps to what he’s said.

“You’re my pet now,” he continues, “though you don’t like to admit it. It’s not so bad, is it?” 

Stubbornly, you don’t answer him.

But after a moment, you say, “if I’m already yours, why do you need this last bit of me? If you already see me as your pet, why do you want me so terribly, in this way—“

Suguru suddenly pulls you back deeper, into his lap, against his chest. 

You squirm, but he holds you tight, hooks his chin over your shoulder.

Alarm bells ring frantically in your head now that he’s so close to the glands in your throat. 

“Don’t play dumb,” Suguru muses, half-mocking, “it doesn’t suit you.” 

“Let me go,” you snarl low and hot.

“What are you scared of?” Suguru responds, “that I’d trap you? If you’d take my Bite, I’d let you roam further than I do now. You’d be safe.” 

“Liar,” you hiss, “I’m not dumb.” 

“I’m not trying to stifle you, I’m trying to set you free.” Suguru almost purrs and his voice is warm and low and creeping up over your spine and trying to find its way inside you. 

You begin to squirm this time, thrashing in his hold until you manage to wriggle free, falling forward onto your hands and knees. 

Instinctively, you turn to keep your back protected, scrambling away from him. You bare your teeth at him. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

He watches this show of aggression with amusement, tilting his head slightly. And then he sighs, “I don’t think anything I say will convince you at this point.” 

You narrow your eyes at the tone. Your hackles rise. 

In an instant, he has grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you back to him. 

Underneath him.

You shove hard at him, twisting and fighting as he settles himself over you. 

You realize how solid he is, how strong, and large. He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even flinch. 

“Suguru,” you hiss at him, pushing as hard as you can on his chest.

“See how easy it was for me to subdue you?” He says then, voice smooth and low. “If I wanted to take you, I simply would’ve already. You’re no challenge to me; if I wanted to trap you, I would’ve.”

“Get off me!” 

You thrash hard beneath him and in an instant, he has your hands uselessly pinned above your head, stretching you out beneath him.

His nose dips, near the scent gland at your throat. You squirm.

He squeezes your wrists, “stop squirming.” He murmurs low, “or my instinct will be to bite.”

Your stomach does a horrible flip, a flutter of—fear, excitement. 

“Just—get off—leave me alone!” You get out, voice high and tight. You try not to arch away from the way he lets his face fall to the crook of your neck. 

“Hush,” Suguru hisses, nudging his nose beneath your ear.

He’s scenting you. 

He’s done this before and despite everything in you, you finally go slack. You force yourself not to tilt your head or offer up more, rather let him urge you into the way that he prefers. 

He nudges his cheek and nose against your jaw. He lets out a relieved breath, fitting more of his body to you and you feel the push of chest into yours, his hips.

You squirm a little and a growl erupts from his throat.

You fight back the sound that almost works its way out of you now, swallow around it.

When he’s finished, he asks, “would you like to scent me?” And instinctively, you want to say yes, but you temper yourself. Then he adds, “I’m sending you away on a mission alone. I’ll be scenting you until the day you leave now.” 

You catch his eyes, glinting.

“So, I thought it only fair if you’d like to scent me, too.” 

You don’t know why, but something squirms inside of you, something a little hurt. 

“You’re sending me away?”

Suguru hums softly, “I need you to take care of something for me. I only trust you to do it.” 

You flex your hands a little in his hold, but he doesn’t budge. 

He nudges at your jaw again, gentle, and murmurs, “this would be easier if you’d take my mark.” 

You turn your head then to shield your throat, and face him. His nose nearly brushes yours and you look up at him through your lashes. You bite your tongue from any further complaints, dipping down to the crux of his throat now. 

Easily, perhaps eagerly, he bares his throat for you.

Satisfaction erupts beneath your skin as his scent washes over you, dark fig and oud, sandalwood and musk. Carefully, your nose runs along the column of his throat. 

“I’m not even—“ you huff, retry, “I haven’t had a Heat in—it wouldn’t take, anyways.” 

“Ah,” Suguru says and you wish you hadn’t told him at all. Realization dawns over his features the way a cat might realize it’s caught its mouse beneath its paws. “Is this what you’re so scared of?” 

“No—I prefer it this way. It’s another reason that you can’t. It wouldn’t work.” You say stubbornly and perhaps in your irritation, you burrow further down into the crook of his neck, tuck your cheek to his skin to nudge. 

“I could give you a temporary one,” he murmurs, “I’d let you do the same in return, of course.” 

You go quiet, brushing your lips against his skin, hesitating. 

“I don’t need it.” You finally decide, even as you let the blunt side of a tooth nick gently against his neck. “I can protect myself.” You pull away to look at him again, “am I not one of your strongest?” 

“You are my strongest.” He agrees, he praises. “But am I not also strong?” He asks, “and yet you still insist on protecting me.” 

You open your mouth to protest, but he takes your chin in hand suddenly, words dying before they can escape. 

“You are my strongest.” He says, “I would like the world to be aware of it.” 

“I told you, I don’t want to be yours–” 

“Then stop protecting me. Flee. Run away and never return.” Suddenly, his touch, his body, all of him is gone. He rolls off of you and onto his back beside you. Cold air sweeps in. You can feel his touch like burning imprints on your skin. 

You turn your head to the side to look at him. 

“You would hunt me down if I ran.” 

A flicker of a smile ghosts his face. 

“And if I ran from you?” He asks, “if I discarded you?” 

Something twists so viciously and sharply in your chest that your eyes sting with it. You lock your jaw tight. You stare up at the ceiling. 

“You refuse to speak but your scent is spiced with distress, sour with despair.” He turns to look at you, “not so easy to hear, is it?” 

“I can’t stand you or your games.” You get out. 

“There are no games.” He says evenly, “only the one you’re playing with yourself.” 

You scoff, “which is?” 

He sits up slightly, over you, looking down at you, the inky silk of his dark hair sliding over one shoulder. 

“Seeing how long you can outrun what you want.” 

You exhale roughly, in exasperation, and then you ask dryly, “and what do I want, Suguru?” 

“To be taken care of.” 

“I don’t need–”

He cuts off your growl before it can start, taking your chin in hand to turn your head towards him once more. “You never have, but it doesn’t mean you can’t want it.” 

“I don’t want it either.” You snap. “You have some grand delusion of me in your mind that I am some weak, submissive creature in need of your care.” 

“I’ve said none of that, have I?” He hums. “Now you’re twisting my words, being purposefully churlish–in hopes of, what? To scare me off?” 

His palm opens up against your jaw, your cheek. His thumb touches your bottom lip. 

“You snap and you snarl and posture as some ferocious, independent creature to scare everyone off. I don’t blame you–I am certain you protected yourself many times this way from lesser people.” His voice is soft, almost a lull, you allow his palm to open against your lips, to turn your face into the cup of his hands. “You don’t believe anyone can handle you and you hope if you bite hard enough, tear into them, they’ll run off. And then you’ll feel vindicated; you were right, you are too much to handle. You were right, you are a monster. You’re unworthy of care or companionship or protection.” 

His hand moves upward, baring his wrist to your mouth now, “go on,” he encourages, “bite me. As hard as you like. Scream and cry and tear into me. Loathe me and scorn me.” He leans closer, over you, as he hushes like a mother to their child, “I’ll still be here, with the rings of your teeth marks littered in my skin. I’ll be the only one, bruised and bloody, still taking care of you–no matter how badly you fight me.” 

Out of anger or frustration or something else entirely, tears prick your eyes. As if to hide them, you open your mouth against his wrist, gentle first–warm and soft lips and tongue. He looks enraptured. He looks starving. 

You sink your teeth into his skin viciously. 

He hisses in pain, sharp, but doesn’t pull away. “There,” he coos, leaning over you, sinking into the pain, “is that what you wanted?” 

Blood bursts into your mouth in a way that is almost startling, sharp and metallic. It should be gross and horrible and–you whine a little, somewhere in the back of your throat and bear down harder. 

If that’s what he promises, you’ll make him prove it. 

If he wants to be the one beside you, you’ll make him pay. 

He leans down to kiss at your cheeks, gentle, humming. You realize there are tears. Your jaw aches. 

But you don’t let go and he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Does that feel better? To get your teeth into someone who isn’t scared of you?” He murmurs, nudging at your tense jaw, kissing there. “Shall I do the same to you?” 

You release his wrist and shove him off, hard enough that he gives and he goes. 

You stand up and storm out of his chambers, slamming the door on its hinges as hard as you can. You hope it knocks over every painting on his walls. You hope the entire compound somehow hears it. You hope it breaks something in the same way that something has been broken open inside of you.

You wipe his blood from your mouth with the back of your hand.

Suguru doesn’t even bandage the wound. And he wears his sleeves high, so that all the world might see it.

#suguru getou x reader #suguru geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru getou x you #getou suguru x you #suguru geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #cw: omegaverse #cw: yandere #cielo writes! #cielo's writing!

[arieswritez]

puppy love

puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 3

chapter 2

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization

about; you don't know how long i could stare into your picture and wish that it was me i guess it's different 'cause you love him but i've got an interactive sick and twisted imagination and that's gotta count for something - not allowed (tv girl)

3.

you'd found a boy that made your heart go thump thump, thump. and you knew very well how the rest of that story usually went.

your love was encompassing. asphyxiating and obsessive. and in the very first moment the two of you interacted, you knew, this could be it.

you didn't blame yourself.

you couldn't blame yourself.

blame the love stories.

the disney movies with the princes and the magic mirrors. breaking curses with true love's kiss. much like the fabricated sugary fantasies, your potential life with him unfolded before your eyes.

he could be the one.

true love's forever kiss.

you imagined it all.

movie theater dates, awkward parental meetings, proposals, a home, kids, pets. arguments. therapy, even. pushing through at the end. death. rebirth. trying it all over again in the next life.

all you had to do was get him to stick around.

you had to make him understand that you could be his true love kiss, too.

you had to be perfect.

. . there was just one miniscule problem.

the boy so happened be on the same baseball team as mark.

it's the way the two of you had met.

despite the fact that you were supposed to be there for mark: your eyes were . . elsewhere. your eyes - then your focus - had gravitated towards him even before the first pitch. and you found yourself blushing as you watched him stretch: holding his baseball bat over his head.

you'd made it your only goal to attempt to extract as much information about it from mark as discretely as you could. and frankly, you should've known mark would be able to read you like the back of his hand.

because he found out what you were trying to do embarrassingly quickly.

and he was just as quick to shut it down.

you hadn't noticed the boy before. not really. but since the baseball game, he seemed to be everywhere. and you were excited to find that he was the new addition to mark's friend group. you knew this because you saw him and mark sitting together during lunch.

which meant they were at least acquaintances.

so imagine your shock when you came to find out. . mark didn't like him.

everything about him seemed to rub mark the wrong way. mark would clam up the moment you mentioned your boy. he'd change the subject. or his mood would just straight up sour. he'd go quiet and avoidant. and when you kept pushing, he finally snapped.

your boy was stupid.

your boy was shallow.

"don't say i didn't warn you." mark would mumble.

but warning you wasn’t enough.

your boy barely looked at you.

and you weren't sure if it was in part because of the way you acted. . the way you looked. maybe he was so out of your league that he'd completely removed you from his radar.

you'd watch him from across hallways and excitement would swell in your chest when you found that you'd be walking in opposite directions.

you'd see him coming.

he'd see you.

time would slow as you walked past him.

your heart rate would pick up.

but his eyes would remain forward and time would pick back up again as soon as you were past each other.

all it'd leave you with was the bitter taste of rejection in your mouth and a deep ache of anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

the only thing that sobered you up were the dizzying possibilities.

he hadn't seen you. he hadn't noticed the effort you'd put in.

but eventually, he would.

you don't know what it was that grabbed his attention.

mark was vehemently against introducing you two.

you were at a loss until you realized that you'd just have to try harder.

whenever mark left for the bathroom, you'd made it a mission to swipe mark's phone during study sessions. you'd go through his socials and send yourself screenshots of both his follower count and who he was following.

it was a long tedious progress but eventually, you'd found your boy's account.

thankfully, it was public. which meant the the decoy accounts you'd made to snoop just in case he was private turned out to be a waste of time.

you looked through his followers and did your homework on anyone he showed a particular interest in. you'd even made a list of the usernames of the people who’s posts he interacted with the most.

and soon you became a master of disguise.

you studied them top to bottom.

those that went to the same school were far easier to emulate.

you copied their mannerisms, the way they styled their hair, you changed the cadence of your voice, the way you rolled your r’s. your clothing grew tighter and your slouch was now an exaggerated upbeat gallop as you chased after the object your new affection, hoping one day he'd notice.

. . and the exact moment he looked into your eyes and did a double take. . you did one, too.

it was completely out of surprise before you caught yourself and continued to saunter away from him with butterflies in your stomach: flapping their wings so violently it felt like you'd be swept away.

his attention was the most excitement you'd felt. . in a long time.

and you knew you'd do anything to retain it.

it was a sickly sweet feeling: syrupy, sticky. clogging your vascular system to the point your head swelled. the lack of oxygen only heightened your fantasies.

the attention was addictive and so, so good you found yourself chasing that high all the time. going to extreme lengths to get his attention. even if they’d end up embarrassing you after.

you never allowed yourself to wallow in the feeling of dread that settled in your stomach when you did everything in your power to get his attention, though.

specially whenever it made a smile stretch across his face.

whatever you did faded into the background.

it was all worth it in the end.

something was wrong with mark.

and he needed to get to the root of the problem fast.

he was looking at you. . differently.

he talked to his dad.

nolan had said something about the changing moods having to do with his powers. how being intense and passionate was just in his blood.

he talked to his mom about it. albeit in a more discrete way. he'd never be able to live it down if she'd found out you were making him behave a certain way.

she'd just chalked it up to it being puberty.

mark didn't know who to believe.

he just wanted to stop thinking about you.

his nerves were shot to shit whenever you were near.

senses heightened: you were a fog blanketing his brain until your voice carried with it a technicolor vision.

he could smell you coming like a damn blood hound.

he could hear your pulse while sitting next to you.

something was wrong with mark.

he knew it when his teeth ached when you'd stretched your neck: raised your arms over your head and let out a little sound of pain and discomfort.

something was wrong with mark.

when the day's turned warm and wet. . and your clothing became more revealing.

he could see more of you.

freckles and moles, blemishes and scars, he hadn't noticed before.

he'd follow sweat drops rolling down your skin.

smooth. soft.

he'd held you, once.

when was the last time?

something was wrong with mark.

he'd lay awake at night staring up at the ceiling.

thinking about how you'd looked while you concentrated on a book. while you looked down at your phone. while you listened to music: smiling when a song you liked came on.

your little humming. . but not singing.

never singing.

mark noticed you'd stopped singing in front of him when he started to make fun of you for it.

that, too, was how mark knew something was wrong with him.

the way your moods would shift like tides under a crescent moon whenever he'd said something excited him. he felt pleasure - a violent zap of electricity shooting up and down his spice - watching your eyes light up or darken when he'd say something to you.

about you.

i like your hair today.

light.

you talk so goddamn much.

dark.

i missed you.

light.

your stories take fucking forever.

dark.

something was wrong with him when he found his own mood depended on fantasizing on how he'd make you feel that day.

if he was in a bad mood, seeing you in one, too, was a sure-fire way to make his day a whole lot better.

something was wrong with mark.

when he'd have to smother the sounds he made while imagining you -

something was wrong with him. . when red, hot anger consumed him when one of his friends made a smart quip about your body.

when he couldn't just laugh it off anymore.

something was wrong with mark.

. . or so he thought.

because he'd later find out. .

. . no.

something was wrong with you.

all of a sudden: mark was the one double texting.

triple texting.

mark was the one asking if he could hang out. . and when the fuck did he ever need permission?

mark was the one seeking you out.

something was wrong with you.

and he needed to get to root of the problem.

he picked his brain apart in an attempt to figure out what it was. you couldn't be under any stress. you looked fine. better than fine.

you looked happy.

fucking elated.

to the point where mark couldn't affect your moods anymore.

mark wanted to know what the fuck you were so happy about.

why the fuck you were so happy when he was falling apart at the seams. when his world was crashing down.

and there you were, completely fucking oblivious.

mark had always been curious.

and so, he went to see you.

the two of you were in your room.

you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

and mark started looking.

you were predictable.

he knew where you kept your journal. despite how many times he'd found it and read it aloud - holding it above his head whenever you tried to snatch it away - he'd always managed to figure out your next hiding place.

it was easier that way.

he pretended he didn't know where it was.

you pretended to have some privacy.

he pretended not to know every single, minute, insignificant detail of your life.

of your thoughts.

thank fuck you were still so naive.

thank fuck for dairies.

he'd found it in a box under your bed.

and after flipping to the page with the freshest set of ink. . he'd found out what your problem was.

you'd found a boy who'd made your heart go

thump.

thump.

thump.

#mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible #invincible x reader #yandere mark grayson #yandere mark grayson x reader #:))) #im going through a lil bit of crush rn myself #lil bit #little #small #tiny #so #you know it's unhinged #AND HIS NAME IS MARK TOO LMAOOOOO #anyway mark figures out he likes you #but like every teenage boy #he makes it your problem #he's gonna [REDACTED] that boy #loosely edited we die like men

[jeankluv]

Birdie | Satoru Gojo - Chapter 06

Words: 4,5k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

ac: _3aem

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Authors note: I need y’all to chose between yes or no. Depending on which one wins, something will happen in one of the future chapters 🤭 also thank you for the support ❤️

Materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Fic playlist

Gojo parked the car near the restaurant you had mentioned. It was a street ramen restaurant, a place you had visited countless times before. The ramen bowls were generous, and the prices were quite affordable, much to the relief of your wallet.

Luckily, you found a place to sit and perused the menu.

“I already know what I'm going to order.” You smiled, setting your menu aside.

“Oh, really?” He glanced up.

You nodded. “The house specialty with extra spice.” Just thinking about it made your mouth water.

“You like it spicy?” He looked at you with a hint of horror.

“Of course I do, Gojo. Don't tell me you don't?” Gojo nodded in response to your question. “Shit, most of the dishes here have some spice to them.”

“It's okay, it's just for one day.” He shook his head.

As the conversation flowed lively and you discovered new things about Gojo, the weight that had been on your shoulders since you stepped foot in the lake slowly fade away.

“Gojo…” You whispered after thanking the waiter who brought you dinner. “About what happened at the lake.”

“You don't have to tell me.” He gently interrupted. “If you want to tell me, then I'll listen and support you. But... if it's too much for you, then you don't have to tell me anything, birdie.” He smiled, and you could feel a warmth spreading in your chest.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

At times, you completely forgot that you didn't like Gojo, and another feeling you wanted to suppress emerged.

You shook your head and picked up the chopsticks to start eating. As usual, it was delicious and spicy as you liked it. You glanced through your lashes at Gojo and saw him struggling with the spiciness of his ramen, even though it was one of the mildest they had.

“Are you sure you're okay?” You stifled a laugh as you watched him fan himself with his hand.

“Yes, of course.” He coughed a bit. “It's just that... I'm not used to it.” He tried to smile.

“We can order milk, so the spiciness goes away better.” Gojo nodded deliberately, and you couldn't help but laugh.

You signaled for the waiter to bring a glass of milk. Watching him take a few sips and visibly relax, you couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

“Feeling better now?” You asked, a playful glint in your eyes.

Gojo nodded, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “Much better, thank you.”

The warmth of his smile melted away any lingering tension between you, and for a moment, you simply enjoyed the comfort of Gojo’s company.

As both of you continued eating, Gojo struggled to conceal his discomfort. Despite your initial concerns that dinner might be awkward because of what happened at the lake, it wasn't. You felt at ease with Gojo, and his occasional antics made you forget everything.

As you continued to share anecdotes and laughter, your ramen bowls emptied. And the night grew darker outside.

You watched as Gojo got up from his seat to pay. As you observed his back, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having accepted to come to this place with him. Gojo turned on his heels and flashed you a smile, a smile that made your cheeks turn crimson.

You didn't want to admit it, but perhaps Satoru Gojo was growing on you more than he should.

When Gojo returned to the table, you couldn't help the flutter of warmth his smile had ignited within you. Despite your best efforts to ignore him, you found yourself drawn to him in a way that both excited and unsettled you.

“Ready to go?” He asked, breaking the silence between both of you.

You nodded, getting up from your seat and following him out of the restaurant. The cool night air hit your face as you stepped outside, the soft breeze rustling the fabric of your clothes.

As you walked side by side, the comfortable silence between you said it all. It was a silence filled with unexpressed thoughts and emotions, a silent acknowledgment of the growing connection between you.

With every step, you couldn't help but look at Gojo, the presence of him at your side calming and strangely comforting. And when you got to the car, you couldn't deny the pang of disappointment that washed over you at the thought of saying goodbye.

“Gojo…” You muttered, getting a slight gaze from him. “About the other day…” How could you continue? “I know we are not close but I mean.” Shit. You were awful at these things. “You can talk to me I guess? We are classmates and all that.”

“You seemed awkward.”

“Shit. Is just that I’m awful with these things, okay? That’s why I didn’t know how to react the other day, when you, you…”

“It’s okay birdie. I get it.” You saw him smile. “Thank you for caring and I’m okay, so don’t worry.”

You nodded, still not sure if you should trust that okay he gave you, because it sounded like a lie and that it was hiding more behind.

At this point you couldn't deny that something was growing inside you. Satoru Gojo was making it difficult not to. His easy charm, genuine kindness, and unexpected moments of vulnerability had touched something deep within you, igniting a spark of longing you couldn't ignore.

Lost in your thoughts, you were jolted back to reality as the car came to a stop outside your house. Turning to face Gojo, you were met with his warm gaze, a silent understanding passing between you.

“Thanks for tonight, birdie.” He said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. “For coming to the match and for then, coming with me to…”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you returned his sentiment. “No, thank you. I had a really wonderful time having dinner with you. And don’t worry about what happened back in the lake, it was not your fault.”

As you stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk, a sense of anticipation filled you. Despite the late hour and the weariness that threatened to weigh you down, you couldn't shake the excitement that bubbled within you.

Gojo stepped out of his car and walked you to the door, apparently wanting to make sure you arrived safely.

“I'll see you in class.” He whispered.

“Yeah.” You whispered back. “Goodbye, Satoru.” You smiled.

“Huh?” He looked at you in surprise. “Wait, did you just...?”

“Goodbye!” You hummed and closed the door before he could say anything else.

As you leaned against the front door, the familiar sound of Gojo's car engine ignited a flurry of emotions inside you. You couldn't help but feel a pang of longing mixed with a hint of anticipation. However, as the sound faded into the distance, a bittersweet smile appeared at the corners of your lips before you forcibly pushed those feelings away, reminding yourself of the need to remain grounded in the present moment.

As you walked through the quiet house, you found solace in the familiarity of your own room. Kyoko's absence, along with the echo of silence, allowed your thoughts to wander freely. Despite the calm outside, turmoil brewed beneath the surface as repressed memories of that night threatened to resurface.

Sinking into bed, you were once again faced with the weight of unresolved emotions. Your mind returned to a pivotal moment etched into your past. With trembling fingers, you reached for the photograph.

“Mom…”

With a whispered word, you invoked the memory of a figure frozen forever in time.

In the quiet solitude of your room, you wrestled with the complexities of your past, piecing together fragments of memories your mind had decided to forget.

As tears threatened to spill, you recalled the few vivid moments still etched in your memory alongside your mother. But many had long since faded away, her laughter, her voice, her scent, now even her expressions were difficult to conjure.

Resting your head on your knees, you closed your eyes, letting yourself drift back to the sweet melody she used to sing before bedtime. Each note resonated with a sense of comfort and longing, a bittersweet reminder of a love that transcended time and space.

Enveloped by the silence of the room, with only the melody resonating from your vocal cords, you began to feel the warm embrace of sleep. Despite your desire to stay awake for Kyoko, your body was simply too exhausted. Each note of the lullaby seemed to lull you deeper into a state of peaceful surrender, until finally, with a reluctant sigh, you succumbed to the soothing embrace of slumber.

As the sun streamed through your window, you blinked opening your eyes, realizing you had slept through the night without interruption. Your cheeks felt wet, and it wasn't surprising; you had dreamt of your mother, something that hadn't happened since you were a child. You wiped your face with the palm of your hand and stretched as you rose from the bed.

With Kyoko's parents away for the weekend, it would just be the two of you. You reached for your phone in your bag to check for any messages.

Kyoko☀️

I'm home now. I saw you were asleep, so I didn't disturb you. Come to my room as soon as you wake up tomorrow!!

That was a good sign, right?

And then there was another message.

Pain in the ass

The exam is approaching. How about we meet on Sunday to study? By the way, good night birdie.

Perhaps it was time to change the nickname, huh? You mentally chastised yourself for realizing you were smiling. You left your phone aside and headed to Kyoko's room with excitement. You flopped onto her bed, calling out her name eagerly.

“Come on!” You urged, nudging her gently. “You have to tell me what happened yesterday.” You smiled with anticipation.

Kyoko opened her eyes slightly and murmured your name. “What time is it?” She asked, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Almost noon.” You replied.

“Almost noon?” Kyoko sat up, surprised. “I've slept the whole morning away.” She sighed with resignation.

“After getting home at three in the morning, it's understandable.” You teased.

“Don't make fun of me or I won't tell you.” She warned with a smile.

“Come on…” You pleaded with a pout.

Kyoko returned your smile and sat up in bed. “We're officially dating.” She announced with joy. You let out a small yay and embraced your best friend.

“Was it romantic?” You asked curiously.

“Yes. He took me out to dinner first, and then we went to the teamLab, where he asked me.” She sighed nostalgically.

“At teamLab?” You asked, amazed. “You've been wanting to go there for ages, but the tickets were always sold out.” You recalled with surprise.

Kyoko shrugged. “I know, and I don't know how he did it, but we got in, and in one of the rooms, the crystal room, he asked me if I wanted to officially start dating.”

“That's amazing.” You exclaimed, feeling genuinely happy for Kyoko. “It sounds like he put a lot of thought into it.”

Kyoko nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “He really did. It was like a dream.”

“I'm so happy for you.” You said, giving her another hug. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Kyoko returned the hug warmly, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Thank you for always being there for me.” She said softly.

“Of course.” You replied, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest. “That's what friends are for, right?”

As you both sat there, basking in the glow of Kyoko's newfound happiness, you couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like these—moments of joy, laughter, etc..

“By the way…” Kyoko looked at you with a smirk on her face. “How was your night?”

“My… my night?” You responded confused.

“Don’t play silly. You went with Satoru, tell me.” She pouted.

“We just went and had dinner.” You said. “Nothing else.”

“Really?” She said with a disappointed tone.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Why do you seem upset?”

Kyoko shook her head. “It's nothing, don't worry about it.”

You nodded reluctantly at her response, sensing that she was hiding something. “We'll see each other again tomorrow.” You said. “We're going to study, don't get confused.”

“Pfft.” She laughed. “Of course not.”

“The exam is next week, and I have to beat Sa-Gojo.” You corrected yourself before saying his name.

“Technically, you already had a date.” Kyoko pointed out.

“Last night wasn't a date, we were just two colleagues going out to dinner.”

“Whatever you say.” She smiled. “Anyways, you have to work today right?”

You bite your lip. “Ugh, yeah.”

“Do you want to meet up after your shift? We can meet Shoko and I can introduce you to her.” She smiled.

“That sounds good.” You replied.

“Perfect.” She got up from her bed and stretched. “Should we have breakfast?” You nodded in agreement.

Kyoko and you enjoyed a breakfast filled with laughter and conversation, but before you knew it, it was time for you to head to work. After bidding Kyoko farewell, you made your way to the store.

It was mid-afternoon when you suddenly remembered that you hadn't responded to Gojo's message. Retrieving your phone, you quickly finding the chat with Gojo.

You to Pain in the ass

Okay, we will meet again tomorrow.

At your place?

Within minutes, your phone lit up again, displaying a new message from Gojo.

Pain in the ass

Yep

I'll come pick you up, is 10 AM okay for you?

You read Gojo's message and felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Despite the playful nickname you had given him, there was an undeniable anticipation building within you for your upcoming meeting.

You to Pain in the ass

Sounds good, see you then 😌

With the message sent, you set your phone aside and resumed your tasks at the store. The remainder of the afternoon passed in a blur of customer interactions and inventory management, but Gojo's invitation lingered in the back of your mind, adding an extra spring to your step.

As evening approached and your shift came to an end, you found yourself eagerly looking forward to the following day.

You saw Kyoko waiting for you outside, engaged in lively conversation with another girl, whom you assumed was Shoko, Gojo and Suguru's friend. With excitement bubbling within you, you closed the store and made your way over to them.

As you approached, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of Kyoko and Shoko chatting animatedly. Their laughter filled the air, adding to the sense of camaraderie that surrounded them. Kyoko noticed you approaching and waved enthusiastically, gesturing for you to join them.

“Hey there!” Kyoko greeted you with a bright smile. “This is Shoko, the one I was telling you about.”

You exchanged introductions with Shoko, feeling a sense of warmth in her presence.

“Hi!” She smiled wildly. “I have heard a lot about you.”

You felt a twinge of embarrassment coursing through you. “Oh... really?” You attempted to laugh, trying to diffuse the awkward moment.

“Yeah, that idiot…” Shoko began to say before being cut off by Kyoko.

“Shall we?” Kyoko interrupted Shoko before she could continue speaking, her tone indicating a desire to move past that topic.

Confused, you looked at Shoko and then at Kyoko, wondering what had caused this sudden interruption.

“Let's go.” Kyoko said, taking your arm reassuringly. “I know you're starving.”

As you walked together, you couldn't shake off the feeling of curiosity about the conversation that was abruptly halted.

On the way to the restaurant, you learned that Shoko was studying medicine and was of the same age as you. In fact, she had been friends with Gojo and Suguru since they were about 14 or 15 years old.

“They tend to be quite intense.” Shoko joked. “And pretty dumb when they're together, but they're good people.” She added with a smile.

You nodded, returning the smile. The camaraderie between you was growing with each exchange.

“But let's stop talking about those two, tonight is girls' night.” Shoko suggested, changing the subject.

“Exactly.” Kyoko agreed with a smile.

Finally, you arrived at the restaurant and took a seat at a table.

Through the night you found out, Shoko liked to drink just as much as Kyoko. So now you were sitting in front of two drunk girls that wouldn’t stop laughing at every minimum thing. Don’t get it wrong, you also drunk and we’re having fun, just not as much as your best friend and your new friend.

“For real?” Kyoko laughed heavily, holding her belly. “I can’t believe it.”

“I swear.” Shoko said with a small hiccup. “Let’s ask for another round!”

You smiled and stopped her. “Shoko… you both are too drunk. For tonight it’s enough.”

“Oh crap… you just sounded like Satoru.” She looked first at you and then at Kyoko. “They would be cute…” She whispered but it was enough for you to hear. Shoko called out your name. “Do you like Satoru?”

You opened your eyes slightly, surprised by her question. “What…?” Only that question came out of your mouth but your mind was functioning like crazy, because as crazy as sound that question also came to your head in the last few days. “Shoko what are you talking about?” You tried to laugh. “No, no, I don’t…”

Kyoko laughed saying your name. “You’re completely red.”

“That’s true!” Shoko screamed pointing at you. “You do like him!”

“I don’t!” Your voice sounded nervous. “I just… I consider him a friend now!”

“But would you fuck him?” Shoko questioned you.

And your face turned completely red. “Shoko! What?!”

“C’mon!” Kyoko scream. “You would right?”

“You are both drunk!” You stood up from your place. “Let’s head home.”

“She definitely would.” Shoko laughed. “I heard he is quite…”

“Okay enough. Let’s go.” You cut her off before hearing what she was about to say.

“Ugh you are no fun.” Shoko and Kyoko cried out.

With great effort, you managed to get Shoko and Kyoko out of the bar where you had been spending the night. Hailing a taxi, you arranged for transportation back home. Shoko would be staying with you at your place; you didn't want to leave her to her own devices in that state, and besides, you didn't even know where she lived. True, you could have called Gojo and asked him, but after that conversation, the last thing you wanted was to have anything to do with Satoru Gojo. You decided to postpone facing the jumble of emotions inside you until the next day.

As the taxi pulled up to your destination, you helped Shoko and Kyoko out of the car and guided them inside your home. Once inside, you settled Shoko on the couch with a blanket and made sure she was comfortable to rest. Despite the late hour, your mind was buzzing with thoughts of the evening's events and the unresolved feelings surrounding Gojo.

After ensuring your friends were settled in for the night, you retreated to your own room, the weight of the night's emotions pressing down on you. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but for now, you needed to rest and gather your strength for the emotional turmoil that lay ahead.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

You adjusted the rebellious strand of hair that kept falling out of place and took a deep breath. Why were you so nervous? You were just meeting up with Gojo to study, but still, your heart couldn't help but race at the thought.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, signaling that it was likely Gojo letting you know he was already outside waiting for you.

You bid farewell to Kyoko and her parents and stepped out of the house. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Gojo leaning against his car, engrossed in his phone. When he heard the door close, he looked up, and your eyes met.

“Hey.” Gojo smiled.

You nodded. “Hi…”

Damn it, what was wrong with you?

“Birdie, you okay?” Gojo leaned in slightly to get a better look at your face.

“Huh?” You refocused your gaze on him. “Oh... yeah, yeah.” You smiled faintly. “Ready to go?” You motioned towards the car.

Gojo nodded and reopened the car door, and you climbed into the vehicle that was already starting to feel familiar. Gojo settled in beside you, and as he started the car, it dawned on you that you were headed to Gojo's apartment.

The conversation from last night echoed in your mind. You were beginning to develop feelings for Satoru Gojo. And that terrified you. You were afraid of what might happen if you let those feelings continue to grow.

“You seem quite distracted.” Gojo's gentle voice broke through your thoughts.

“It's nothing.” You tried to brush it off. “Just thinking about something.”

Gojo simply nodded and focused his gaze on the road ahead. The landscape began to change, arriving at a neighborhood of the city that you did not know. It was a rich neighborhood, the cars that were parked and the whole atmosphere screamed money. It didn't surprise you, where else could the great Satoru Gojo live after all.

Gojo parked his car in a garage and you both silently took the elevator. You watched as Gojo played with the car keys in his hand, while he looked ahead. Your heart continued to beat strongly.

As you entered Gojo's apartment, a feeling of surprise washed over you. It was not what you expected, it was a warm, cozy place. You took off your shoes at the entrance and followed Gojo into the kitchen.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Water is fine.” You said. Gojo turned around and grabbed a glass to put some water on it. “Thank you…” You whispered when Gojo gave you the glass.

You tried avoiding his gaze but you knew he knew something was off with you. “Birdie…”

“Should we start with the study time?” You cut him. “Should we study in the living room?” You looked around. “Or there is somewhere else we could study.”

“In the living room it’s okay.” He said, still looking at you.

“Great! Let’s go!” You grabbed your bag and walked towards the living room.

Sitting on the big couch of Gojo��s department, you took out the notebook and waited patiently for Gojo to come and start studying.

You felt Gojo enter the room and sit next to you, too close for your liking. Too much. You could feel your hands starting to sweat and your heart racing again.

Do you like Gojo?

Do you have feelings for him?

The words repeated themselves in your head over and over again.

“Shit…” You murmured.

“Is everything alright birdie?” His soft voice spoke.

“Huh?” You turned your head only to be met with his blue eyes, way too close for your liking, for yourself.

Surprised, you moved backwards, causing you to fall off the couch. Gojo quickly stood up from her position and walked over to you to help you. “Birdie…” He said with concern. "Are you alright?" Gojo grabbed your hands and helped you sit on the couch.

You shook your head. “Yeah…” No. “I went out last night and I’m tired.” I can’t shake this feelings away. “It’s nothing.” It’s everything. “It’s okay…” It’s not.

“You should had told me…” He said with a sad look. “We could have chosen another day…” He whispered. “Nothing would have happened.” He smiled at you.

Satoru Gojo stop or I will completely fall and I don’t want to.

You shook your head. “Don’t worry.” You faintly smiled.

He hesitated but nodded at your words. You both sat next to each other and started studying. Gojo carefully explained the things that were still unclear to you. Each time he approached, your heart rate quickened.

Your feelings were completely tangled up. Satoru Gojo couldn't possibly be someone you liked, but no matter how many times your mind repeated that, your heart felt differently. It reacted tumultuously every time he was near.

As Gojo continued to clarify things for you, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation. His proximity seemed to amplify the turmoil within you, leaving you torn between what your head was telling you and what your heart was feeling.

Satoru Gojo POV

Gojo glanced at you from the corner of his eye, observing how completely engrossed you were in trying to solve the problem at hand. You delicately chewed on the end of your pen, your brow furrowing slightly in concentration.

She's beautiful.

Gojo shook his head and turned his gaze away from you.

Ever since he realized that you shared classes and even a major, he had tried on numerous occasions to get closer to you, but without any success.

When he invited you to the lake, he had attempted to confess, not in a romantic way. You see, Gojo did have strong feelings for you, a crush according to him. But he considered it too early to express them; he didn't want to risk pushing you away. What he had wanted to confess was his immense gratitude for what you did when you were six years old. However, just as he was about to do so, you had that panic attack.

He felt immensely guilty. Something had happened to you at that lake, and he had unwittingly triggered those memories. Seeing you so vulnerable and broken had shattered his heart. Holding you close had felt natural, and all he had wanted was for that pain you were experiencing to go away as soon as possible.

As Gojo watched you, he felt remorse for unintentionally causing your distress. He had tried to express his gratitude, but he had only made things worse, leaving you emotionally affected.

Despite his good intentions, Gojo felt guilty for contributing to your discomfort. He hadn't wanted to hurt you, he just wanted to comfort you. The image of seeing you so affected haunted him.

He silently decided to be there for you, support you with everything you needed and show you with actions how much you meant to him. Maybe he couldn't express his feelings at the time, but he was determined to show you his affection in other ways.

“Hey, birdie.” Gojo said softly, breaking the silence between them.

You looked up from your task, meeting his gaze with a curious expression. “Yeah, Gojo?”

“I just wanted to say... I'm sorry.” He began, his voice tinged with sincerity. “I know you already told me it was okay but I didn't mean to upset you back at the lake.”

You paused, studying his earnest expression for a moment before offering a small nod. “It's okay, Gojo. I know you didn't mean any wrong. And... thank you, for trying to help.”

Gojo smiled gratefully at your understanding, relieved to have cleared the air between them. “Of course, birdie. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what.”

Gojo saw you blinking slowly at his words and a small smile appearing on your lips. “Thanks, Gojo. That means a lot to me.”

Note: comment if you want to be tagged

Tagged people: @lavender-hvze, @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke, @faetoraa,@hexipessimistic, @gojoful , @kitzusune , @sh0jun

#gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru smut #fanfic jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut

[kamiversee]

Poll time! :)

Consider this an official masterlist for my upcoming works!

The F*ck List was a wonderful story to complete & I’m excited to write another sooo, take a look through these & lmk which one you’d like me to focus on next! :3

My Love Note (Choso x f!reader vs Gojo x f!reader)

In which your innocent crush on the cheeky cashier Gojo Satoru slowly swirls into something more complicated as his feelings for you are never clear. Then, in the midst of your complications, there’s your hating best friend Choso Kamo who also beings to act differently toward you.

F*ck The List (TFL Sequel) (the title is subject to possibly change)

A continued tale in which the truth of why you were forced to be a whore comes into the light.

The Better Brother (Guitarist!Choso x f!reader vs Boxer!Sukuna x f!reader)

When a night of drinking with your friends turns into a conversation about your nonexistent sex-life, you say you slept with the most random name to come to mind-- never expecting him to walk through the door moments later. Naturally, things only worsen for you when you eventually learn that this man is connected to your longtime unrequited crush.

Be My Cowboy (Cowboy!Gojo x f!reader)

A love story in which you fall for the infamous cowboy Gojo Satoru whose job was to protect you.

Sex For Business (The “Office” men of JJK x f!reader)

When you’re the epitome of sex-appeal, it’s easy for you to dominate the business world. Or at least, that was until you come across a specific company harder to climb to the top than others. Man after man– you know how to use and seduce them no problem. But for some reason, the men here are a bit more challenging than ones in the past. Especially the man whose position your arrival threatens; Nanami Kento.

Chase The Thrill (Geto x f!reader & Toji x f!reader)

By your senior year of College, you come to the realization that you’ve yet to experience even half of what you wished to within your College experience. This is to blame of your toxic older ex-boyfriend Toji Fushiguro, who was your first and only ever boyfriend that stripped you of all fun you wished to have. So when you decide to go out one night to live it up a little and somehow end up playing seven-minutes in heaven with some hot stranger, you don’t expect the name to show you an entirely new world in the most cliche way imaginable.

Not My Resident (Vampire!JJK Men x f!reader)

A JJK fanfic that takes place in the alternate universe of “Not My Neighbor”-- you knew they were doppelgängers but you didn’t care, they were hot. Plus, their human forms never batted an eyelash at you so, what’s so wrong with letting a few of them inside… of you.

No Strings Attached (Ino Takuma x f!reader)

According to others, fake dating your best friend always leads to a real relationship and eventual heartbreak but, you and Ino swore you two could pull it off with no real feelings involved.

Petals to Thorns (R. Shidou x f!reader & Sae x f!reader)

From young and innocent love to something complicated and ugly, Shidou Ryusei takes you to hell and back just to say those three stupid words to you. Then there’s Itoshi Sae who sweeps you off your feet the very second Shidou fucks up; who would you pick in the end?

Suck or Fuck (Vampire!JJK Men x f!reader)

They don’t call you the best detective around for no reason. While your methods may be a bit… unorthodox, people can’t say they don’t work. Human or Vampire, you always get your job done. So when crime rates in your city skyrocket; murders occurring around you, kidnappings, theft, and blatant Vampire attacks threaten your job– you make it your mission to get to the bottom of things... even if that involves sleeping with your suspects.

After the results of this poll, I’ll narrow it down to a top 5 and do another one since this is quite a long list! The winning fic will be my next focus after I finish all the whatif’s for TFL.

@KAMIVERSEE on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.

#kamiversee #kamiversee!answers #the f*ck list #jjk x reader #tfl!poll

[five-rivers]

vacation in camazotz

@rgbyshipper101

.

“... keeps going like this, he’s going to end up dropping the house into another dimension again.”  Danny sighed heavily.  

“Well, that’s not really fair,” said Sam.  

“Huh?  What do you mean?” asked Danny, blinking blankly at her.  “That’s definitely a thing he did.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t totally him.”

“He was pretty tangential, actually,” said Tucker.  “Unless there’s something you aren’t telling us?”

“I… haven’t I told you about the time he sent the house into a parallel dimension?”

“You didn’t exactly need to.  We were all there.”

“No,” said Danny.  “What are you guys talking about?”

“Yes, we were.  The whole town was there,” said Tucker.  

“You know,” prompted Sam.  “Vlad pawning the Ring of Rage off on Valerie, you pulling Fright Knight’s sword out of the ground, Pariah Dark.”

“Yeah, you’re more related to us winding up in the Ghost Zone than your dad is.”

“Ooohhhh, I get what’s going on.  You’re thinking of a completely different time.  The time I’m talking about is way back in sixth grade.”

Sam’s gamer cave (she did not call it that, but that’s what it was) went quiet enough that the faint hum of the computer screens could be heard.  

“Your dad sent you guys to another dimension when you were in sixth grade,” said Sam, spinning her chair around and pointing a painted fingernail at Danny.

“Yeah,” said Danny.

“Three years before your whole…”  She waved her hand at him.  “Thing.”

“Before you got zapped, she means,” said Tucker.

“Yeah.  So?”

“So,” said Sam, “why is that, even though you knew alternate dimensions were a thing and your dad could get you there, you didn’t believe in ghosts and were okay with walking into the portal?”

“Okay, but, look,” said Danny.  He put his controller to one side.  “That’s– That’s a false equivalency.”

“Spending time with Jazz, I see,” said Tucker.  He was now the only one still playing the game.  

“Shut up,” said Danny.  “I know stuff without Jazz telling me about it.  But just because one unbelievable thing is true, that doesn’t mean that all unbelievable things are true.  Besides, the dimension we wound up in was way different from the Ghost Zone.  Had nothing to do with ghosts at all.  Definitely not something you look at and then go, ah, yes, ghosts exist.”

“But you knew that other dimensions existed.  Even if there weren’t ghosts on the other side of the portal, you still could’ve realized that it could take you to another dimension.”

“But it didn’t do that.  It just half killed me.”

“By opening a portal to another dimension in you.”

“And?”

Sam glared at him.  “You’re just playing dumb at this point.”

“Neither of you are playing anything, and I think at this point we can just say that Danny’s dumb.”  Tucker’s computer let out a little jingle as his character completed a quest.  

“Hey!  Most of their stuff doesn’t work,” said Danny, exasperated.  

“But you were messing around with something that they had made work before.  Didn’t you think that could be dangerous?  Or have consequences?  Drop you in yet a different dimension?  Something?”

“They said it didn’t work.  I believed them.  And you guys kept hassling me about it.”

“Someone skipped out on the ‘don’t give in to peer pressure’ PSAs,” said Tucker, singsong.  

“You are not innocent here, Tucker!  We’ve all done dumb stuff.  Can we drop it?  I thought we were playing games today, not playing ‘gang up on Danny for stuff we all did.’”

“Fine,” said Sam.  She picked her controller back up.  Danny picked his up a second later. 

They continued playing the game.  

Then Sam dropped her controller again, this time in her lap.  “Okay, actually, this is going to bother the heck out of me if I don’t know.  How did your Dad drop the house in an alternate dimension?”

“And what was it like?” added Tucker.  He, of course, kept his eyes on the game.  

“What was it like…” said Danny, contemplative.  He made his character run around in circles.  “How to explain?”

“Start with how you got there,” said Sam.  “Go from there.”

“Okay.  Well.  It started off– It was pretty normal.  You know.”

“Uh, no,” said Tucker.  “Sending your house to another dimension is not normal.”

“Normal for them.  For my parents.”

“Define normal here.  Like, describe it,” said Tucker.  

“Working on the portal.”

Sam let out a slow, exasperated sigh.  “Really, Danny?”

“Well, it was that or weapons.  Do you think their weapons teleported us to another dimension?”

“They could’ve.  The bazooka does,” said Tucker.  

“Fair,” said Danny.  “But, like, they were working on the portal, but then they were going over some of the math - it was wrong, obviously - and they saw that there was, like, there was a, um.  There was an ‘interesting result.’  Supposedly, distance fell out of the equation if you had the right inputs.  Something like that.”

“Which means… what?” asked Sam.  

“They thought they could make a teleporter.”

“What!”  Tucker finally whirled away from his monitor.  “They have a teleporter?  They made a teleporter?”

“No.  That’s the whole point.  No teleporter.  They messed it up.  But, like, they built what they thought was a teleporter.  And, of course, as soon as they built it, they had to use it.  Mom wanted to do small tests, sending an apple back and forth or something, but Dad decided to jump right into teleporting the entire house, because it was vacation time.”

“Yeah, okay, that sounds like your dad,” said Tucker.  

“Doesn’t it?  Which is why I’m worried now, because it’s the same thing all over again, he keeps getting too excited and then doesn’t slow down to make sure things work the way they’re supposed to.”

“You have no right to criticize that, Mr. Walks Into a Portal and Dies,” said Sam.  

“I think I’m the only one who does have the right to criticize it.”

“And the dimension?” asked Tucker.  “I want to know about the alternate dimension.”

“Right,” said Danny.  “Well, when Dad ‘teleported’ us, we knew things were wrong pretty much right away.  You guys have read a Wrinkle in Time, right?”

“Sure,” said Sam.  

“Yeah,” said Tucker.  “It was assigned last year, wasn’t it?”

“Right, so, you know the planet with the brain?  It was– It was kind of like that.”  His character died and he sighed.  “I suck at multitasking.  It wasn’t even just the stuff, it was, like, the air was flat.  The texture of everything was wrong.  Everything was… fake?  Like a performance, except it was the whole world.  Everyone just had these smiles on their faces but they were… empty.”

Sam propped her head up on her fist.  “Your parents sent you to play outside and didn’t notice any of that, didn’t they?”

“They did.  But they did notice stuff.  Like, all the houses being the same, the creepy sky–”

“The sky was creepy?”

“Super creepy.  It was like.  Segmented.  Triangles.  Like we were inside a pyramid.  And all the roofs were also pyramids, now that I think about it.  Just, pyramids everywhere.  Really pointy ones.  Oh!  And gravity was also a pyramid.”

“What?” asked Sam.  

“Gravity was a pyramid.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It was a pyramid.  Gravity.”

“Okay, okay, I think I’ve got this,” said Tucker.  “What shape is gravity here?”

“It’s round,” said Danny, “duh.”

“It’s round, so there you go, Sam,” said Tucker.  

“It is round,” said Danny.  “Like, gravitational fields, they’re round.  But they were pyramids there.”

“Wow,” said Sam.  “I wouldn’t have expected that.  Pyramids.”

“See?  Ghost Zone is totally different.”

“Yep,” said Tucker.  His computer let out another chime.  “By the way, you guys owe me soda now.”“How did you do that?” complained Danny.  “You weren’t even looking at the screen!”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic

[stars-in-a-jam-jar]

Moar Buddy Dawn Shit in relation to this post

Buddy was dead for about 10 to 15-maybe-20 minutes. Kristen and Gorgug at the top of Freshman Year were only dead about 3 to 5 minutes and they still got some form of time in the afterlife, (side note: Gorgug not knowing what Orc Heaven looks like and being Deeply Fucking Terrified and shellshocked by the entire experience is So Juicy To Me, like. Something that should by all rights be familiar to him being foreign. Of deep spiritual significance, but not in the way it was 'supposed to be'; he didn't even know how it was 'supposed to be' at the time or after he learned it, he's still not really sure if it was ever a 'supposed to'.) so I'm quite sure Buddy experienced Something beyond the grave and chose to leave it for this nameless aspect of Ankarna. The version of her which exists as a result of her complete death and incomplete resurrection/preservation.

In that 10 to 15 minutes, Buddy passed into the place he was going. Perhaps some cornfield out on the edge of Helio's domain where Helio figured 'I'll get to him or he'll find me sometime, there's literally infinite time here'. Perhaps as a petitioner on the Astral Sea- wait, no, I'm thinking about Rolling With Difficulty cosmology, the Astral Realm is not a sea in Fantasy High. (also go listen to Rolling With Difficulty) Regardless of if he went to the afterlife the adults all told him he'd go to if he'd been a good boy or to some more limbo-like place, he had just enough minutes for the reality to sink in that he's Dead. He's dead and the feeling of a hand gripping his shoulder as if to hoist his assailant high enough to slit his throat presses like a cold weight on his skin. As if this body has skin, no, he's just a solid soul given form in this place.

So jarring. Resting dead in some corner of the cosmos like finding the one empty room at a big loud party where you've mostly been taking things in, sticking close to people you know, not doing anything you're not supposed to. Sitting down on the unfamiliar furniture or swaying idly in place as you listen to the murmur of this foreign world around you. Only it's not like that, not truly at all. You're not at the party anymore, the echoes of your life aren't some thing you're taking a break from to rejoin or building up the nerve to excuse yourself from to get a proper change of scene. There is no going back or moving forward.

He's dead. Buddy Dawn is dead.

How many minutes did it take him to lose composure? Did he even? When the ultimatum was posed to him, did he harden his heart to any regrets about abandoning his original faith, or did he relax into knowing he could live again, in service of something that reached for him and he reached back towards?

Why was he so chipper saying 'Dang, y'all, I worship a nameless god of rage.'? He didn't sound horrified by his decision in much the same way he didn't sound in touch with reality when he said 'Sometimes I raise my hand and magic that burns folks to a crisp comes out, but that's just the lord Helio working through me.' His death didn't change him so much as it fixed his gaze onto something new.

He is still a Cleric. Through and through. His soul needs a divinity to latch onto. And this is the first time he has latched onto a divinity wholly and completely for himself. He was not taught how to live for himself. He was taught how to live and die for a cause. For Helio. He earns a nice afterlife via sacrificing his autonomy to whatever the church tells him is good and right.

But he doesn't want a nice afterlife.

He wants another life.

And he no longer has faith that Helio will deliver him from any hardship, because even after he's just barely grasped how dead he is and has been for the past 11 minutes, his soul is wrent into an ultimatum by a different power. Go back to his body and continue living under a new banner, or be trapped in a dark, solitary purgatory which his soul may never be free from.

It's an easy decision, really. Barely requires any thought, only following a feeling. He no longer wants to stand by the god who allowed him to die so unceremoniously and so unfairly. He honestly feels more betrayed by Helio than he does by Kipperlily. Kipperlily hardly made any promises to him, just asked for him to be the party's cleric. He never expected her to do that, sure, but... His whole life he was promised that every bad emotion he ever felt in response to every wrongness in his life would (should, must, has to) simply evaporate away in the golden light of the corn god. And it's been an eternal 12 minutes, but he only feels worse and worse.

And if all Helio could promise him was a flat expanse of farmland overseen by someone who didn't even properly greet him when he walked in (if the celestial bureaucracy were even doing their jobs and funneled the soul of Helio's cleric to Helio instead of some cosmic waiting room or other), but this nameless deity can promise him a life for himself? Then by god he's taking that ultimatum, come back to life, sit up with a slightly surprised little smile and announce to the world (as he has been taught is right to do when you are devoted to a god) 'I worship a nameless god of rage!'

And he'll be happy with this choice-that-is-not-a-choice which he was betrayed and coerced into. Because it truly feels self indulgent to choose anything. To choose ragefully living for himself instead of obediently dying for an unfulfilling promise. He'll choose the intensity and the darkness because the gentle constant pressure cooker of walking in the light gave him nothing but sunburns and a slit throat.

#fantasy high junior year #fantasy high junior year spoilers #i love him #buddy dawn #kristen applebees #gorgug thistlespring #fhjy #dimension 20