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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months

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The Perfect Life || CL16 {1}

Summary: On the outside it appeared you had the perfect life but Charles didn't know the secrets that had been kept from him. In order for him to succeed deals were made with your family and no price was too much to pay. Warnings: nsfw, swearing, fighting, mentions of character death, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, horrible parents, Arthur Leclerc being the best friend ever WC: 2.5k

One || Two || Three

“What have you got yourself into now?”

There was no simple answer to that question and it was the very reason you had specifically not called the man waiting for an answer in the corridor. You dragged your eyes away from the chipped grey walls of the cell and stopped reading the tagging that littered the bricks - you didn’t really care that P & H were 2getha 4eva - and sat up from the concrete bed you had attempted to sleep on.

Stretching your tired muscles, you ignored his question and asked one of your own. “What are you doing here, Charles?”

“Arthur called.” Charles grabbed the bars that separated you, his knuckles turning white as he scanned the other vagrants you had been locked in with. “Did you have to get him involved?”

“What makes you think it was my idea?” It was your idea, but it was rude of him to assume so.

“My brother wouldn’t know how to find an underground fight club, let alone join one.”

“Maybe you don’t know your brother as well as you think.”

“Maybe, but I know you.” He looked at your cheeks that were still shiny from the Vaseline that helped the blows glance off, then he looked at your busted knuckles that not even tape could stop from splitting. “Why?”

You shrugged, but it tweaked your shoulder that had taken quite the punch and you winced at the spike of pain. “For a bit of fun, let off some steam.”

“Yeah, you look like you are really enjoying yourself,” he muttered sarcastically before walking away.

“Wait, Charles, where are you going?”

“Home, it’s late and Arthur is waiting in the car.”

“You’re just going to leave me here?”

“You didn’t call me,” he stated coldly. “Bail yourself out this time.”

Your clenched fist hit the metal bar and he briefly paused as the ringing sound followed him down the hall. “Dammit, Charles. Please?”

He continued walking away and you dropped back onto the hard slab of concrete wondering why you bothered. Charles never cared for you and the friendship you had with his younger brother, in fact merely breathing around him seemed to be an offence. It had been that way ever since your family sponsored his career, it was like he resented you for your family’s money.

“Y/L/N,” a burly bailiff called out, interrupting your ranting inner monologue. “You’ve been posted.”

A frown pinched your brows together as the door opened and you saw Charles standing in the shadows behind the officer. “Now would be the time for a thank you,” he muttered.

You were tempted to throw a ‘fuck off’ his way but bit your tongue and accepted the thick hoodie he had draped over his arm. While the sex workers you had shared a cell with wore just as little clothing, yours was for an entirely different reason. The sports bra and bike shorts were perfect for fighting in but left you cold in the early hours of the morning, so you quickly pulled the hoodie over your body. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”

“I don’t want your money,” he sighed, rubbing his temple and leaving you with the impression that you were the headache he had.

“That’s not what you said to my father 10 years ago.”

“Is it too late to lock her back up?”

The bailiff looked awkwardly between the two of you and if you were in Monaco the officer would have probably marched you back to the cell, but Charles was in Nice now, he was in your city.

You quickly signed the release form for your belongings and slipped the family signet ring back onto your finger before turning your phone on. A flood of messages from your father, his assistant and his lawyer, appeared in the flurry of vibrations that made Charles scoff and shake his head. “Worried about his little princess, huh?”

It was your turn to scoff. If only he knew how utterly wrong he was, but you weren’t one to air the dirty laundry of your family - even if it would shut the pretentious twat up for one minute. “Same time next week, boys,” you said with a nod to the officers behind the Perspex wall.

“You’re seriously messed up,” Charles commented as he followed your quick descent down the front steps and aimed for the dark blue Porsche.

“Keep sweet talking, you flirt,” you shot back sarcastically. “I thought you had a girlfriend.”

Arthur had opened his door the moment he spotted you and he knew from the pained look on his brother’s face, and the smile on yours, that the interaction had gone as well as expected. He couldn’t understand why two people he loved dearly had to fight like cats and dogs every time they were in the same room. He had tried to get you to talk to Charles, to tell him the truth about your situation, but it had been hard enough talking to Arthur about it and you trusted him with your life. You weren’t going to go through that again for someone that would be more likely to spit in your face.

“How’s your nose?” Arthur asked as he gently cupped your face and inspected it.

“Relax, I already reset it.” You took comfort in the warmth of his palms but the fuzzy feeling that came with knowing someone in the world cared about your wellbeing was gone in an instant.

“Daddy can always buy you a new one.”

“Charles!”

“Forget about it, Tur,” you murmured as you stepped back and started to make your way home on foot. “Text me when you get home safe.”

“If you care about him you will leave him alone,” Charles called out as he opened the driver's door. “You’re just going to drag him down with you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Arthur growled at his brother before he started to follow you down the street. “Wait, please.”

“You should listen to your brother,” you said over your shoulder. “I’m a sinking ship.”

Arthur’s footsteps quickened as he jogged to your side and pulled you to a stop. “You’re not a sinking ship, but if you are then I will be your lifeboat.”

“That’s stupid analogy,” you scoffed as he pulled you into his arms. “I’m sorry I got you arrested.”

“I could have run when they raided but what kind of best friend would that make me?”

“One with a clean record,” you pointed out, feeling his chest bounce with a silent laugh.

“It’s overrated. I’m thinking about getting a tattoo now, one to remember my incarceration by. Maybe a tear, just here,” he said as he touched his cheek. “Think it would make me look cool.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “Oh yeah, the ladies would love that.”

“Please don’t give my brother any more bad ideas,” Charles muttered as he rolled by slowly in his car with the window down. “Get in, both of you.”

Arthur opened the door and pulled you down with him, tugging you into place on his lap before you could escape. He wasn’t going to let you walk home at 3am, no matter how safe Nice was, but it was annoying that his brother only bought a two seater sports car when he knew that the two of you had been arrested.

You guided Charles away from the waterfront mansions and into the industrial area that was abandoned at the late hour. Arthur had been to your place plenty of times but it was a first for Charles to see the concrete building with a chipped tile roof at the end of the rundown street.

“What are we doing here?” Charles asked as he parked in front of a rusted metal door.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, kissing Arthur’s cheek before opening the door.

“What is this place?” Charles asked again as he followed you out, frowning at the key to the door you found under a shattered pot plant.

“I can’t exactly go home like this, can I? Genius.”

Arthur’s door shut as he got out to referee the second round of verbal sparring for the evening.

“I’m surprised they even let you home after the crap you put them through.”

“Yeah, well, I'm still useful to them so they can’t get rid of me yet. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“It must be so hard living your perfect little life,” Charles drawled sarcastically and Arthur inhaled sharply at the insult.

“You think my life is perfect?” You laughed bitterly and Arthur looked down at his feet. “Do you know why I fight in that shitty underground cage? The only freedom I have is when I get in that ring. It is the only choice I get to make for myself. For five minutes, I am in control of my own life, Charles, I get to fight for myself.”

“In control? You have always done and gotten everything you wanted,” he argued. “You wanted a pony, you got a fucking pony.”

Your vision narrowed as anger exploded in your chest. “There was a price, you fucking idiot! I am paying that price now. You don’t know what it’s like to have your entire life planned out for you, to find out those gifts came with terms and conditions, so do me a favour and shut the fuck up for once in your life please.”

Charles took a step closer but Arthur placed himself between you, his palms pushing his brother back as your breath quickened to uncontrollable pants. “You don’t understand, just let it go.”

“Damn right I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you listen to her bullshit, Tur. Jules couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her, and I can’t either.”

The whomping of blood rushing around your head echoed in your ears as time slowed and Arthur’s arm pulled back. You watched him close his fist like you had taught him, keeping his thumb on the outside to avoid breaking it. You watched the veins on his hand grow thicker as he threw the punch at his own brother and the shock barely registered before Charles fell down on his ass.

“Jules couldn’t be in the same room with her because he knew the truth and he felt guilty!” Arthur screamed down at his brother. “You were too young to understand then, but we aren’t kids anymore.”

Charles broke free of his state of shock and scrambled to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “What truth? Huh? Is it worth ruining our brotherhood?”

“Jules was engaged.”

“Bullshit.” Charles shook his head violently and you sank to the ground, leaning back against the cold bricks for the second time that night. “He would have told me.”

“Ask Enzo.” Arthur knew Charles would believe him. Lorenzo was Jules’ best friend, it was why Charles met Jules in the first place. Jules already had ties to your family and he used them to broker the deal that funded Charles’ career.

“Okay, so what if he was engaged?” Charles snapped as his agitation grew. He was suddenly questioning everything he knew about his godfather and it showed on his shaking hands.

“Because he was engaged to me,” you whispered, a shadow falling across your face as Arthur crouched down beside you and wiped away the tears you hadn’t even felt fall. You couldn’t tell if they were tears of anger or sadness, the two seemed to blur when it came to Jules. He was always there, even in your earliest memories. He was like an older brother to you, he even taught you to ride your bike without trainer wheels. He was always there, until he wasn’t.

Charles was right, he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you once the deal was made. You couldn’t blame him for that.

“No, no fucking way,” Charles laughed, raking a hand through his hair. “Arthur, are you listening to this shit?”

“I’ve seen the contract, Cha.”

“You’ve always been gullible but this is actually stupid. She was 16. Jules wouldn’t have married a girl. He was 25 for fucks sake.”

“We didn’t have a choice,” you admitted quietly. “It was the price for the deal he made, and you are right, Jules was too noble for that. It took a lot of convincing on his part to wait until I turned 21. My father resented that fact, I think he was hoping to sell me off to someone sooner.”

Charles stumbled back to the hood of his car, watching as Arthur took a seat beside you and draped his arm protectively over your shoulders. The brothers stared at each other but you stared at the gravel between your legs while the truth lingered in the air.

You could feel the pieces connecting in Charles’ head as if they were being screamed aloud and you flinched at the moment they all came together. Arthur’s arm tightened, Charles' throat bobbed and nausea roiled in your stomach.

“It was me,” Charles choked. “Wasn’t it?”

You didn’t bother looking up as you nodded. “My father never cared about your career. He wanted a union with the Bianchi family and he finally got the opportunity when Jules asked to sponsor you.”

“Why the hell would he agree to that?”

“Because he believed in you, obviously, and I like to think that maybe he thought he could get out of the agreement before I turned 21.” You shrugged because you would never know the complete truth now. It made you sick to think that maybe he did find a way out of it, in the worst way possible.

“Your father…”

“Is a real asshole? Yeah, I know.”

“I was going to say sick bastard.”

You chuckled in agreement and tipped your head back. “Perfect life, am I right?”

Charles had the decency to winch at the reminder. “You’re an adult now, why don’t you leave?”

“I wish it were that easy. All my bank accounts are under his control. They didn’t let me go to college. I don’t know anyone that isn’t indebted or loyal to him,” you sighed. “I got this place with my fight winnings. It’s not much but it’s mine, at least until he arranges another marriage for me, then I suppose the poor bastard gets it too.”

“Marry me.”

You barked a laugh and looked at Arthur, his lips still parted like they were shocked the words had passed by. “Now you are being stupid. I love you, Tur, and that is precisely why I wouldn’t wish this shit on you.”

“Then marry me,” Charles offered. “You hate me already, and I owe Jules everything. You can come to Monaco and study, or get a job, or whatever you want to do.”

“No, thank you,” you said as you pulled yourself to your feet and opened the door. “Drive safe.”

“I’m serious,” Charles growled as caught the door before it closed. “I am offering you a lifeline, why won’t you take it?”

“My father taught me many important life lessons but the first one was if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Good night, Charles.”

Part Two

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #arthur leclerc fanfic

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azsazz · 19 days

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Out of Order

Hockey!Azriel x Figure Skater!Reader

Summary: You're running late from practice and the women's showers are out of order. In your haste to make it to class, you utilize the men's locker room while they're on the ice, only to find out that their practice has been cut short as well...

Warnings: Smut (oral, m receiving). Steamy (haha, get it?).

Word Count: 3003

Notes: This would prob never happen but it’s my world and you’re all living in it 😏

Belongs to the Shut Out & Penance world

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“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter, staring at the sign hanging over the showers in the women’s locker room. It reads Closed for Maintenance. You’ve completely forgotten that the showers weren’t going to be in working order this week. You hadn’t been paying too close attention when your figure skating coach told you about it before the weekend hit, still too stunned thinking about Azriel when you’d run into him on your way to where all the coaches’ offices are housed.

It hasn’t been a great start to the week. Your alarm went off late, you spilled the horrible coffee you’d managed to make whilst brushing your teeth—no harm there—and you split your leggings after a tumble on the ice. Now, you’re going to be doubly late for class because Coach Vanserra had wanted to talk to you about your routine after practice.

And now this.

Clicking your phone on, you check the time. Yup. You only have fifteen minutes to make your way across campus to class, and you’ve only just stopped sweating from the vigorous run-throughs of the jump you fell on during practice this morning. Anything to get the routine perfect, even if it did mean receiving a few cutting glares from the hockey players who were loitering around for their own practice. The chain reaction of you being late meant that the Zamboni flooded the ice late which meant that hockey practice started late.

Late, late, late.

You would totally skip class too, if it weren’t the one that you were struggling the most in. The Teaching Assistant even allowed you to meet with her before class today to go over the outline of your mid-term, and you really need to do well on it.

“What do I do, what do I do?” you wonder aloud, staring at the bright neon sign. You don’t have enough time to make it home, but—you groan as the idea pops into your head.

The men’s locker room.

There are showers in there. Ones that probably work, too.

Fuck, you really don’t want to do this.

But you have no choice, you’re not spending the day walking around classes a filthy mess or smelling like sweat.

You duck out the door with your things, your bag slung over your shoulder, towel draped over your arm. Your shoes are clutched in your free hand as you duck your head, walking faster. Passing the rink just to make sure the hockey team is still out on the ice, you exhale softly, only allowing yourself a fleeting look at sex on skates.

Azriel is fast. Probably one of the fastest forwards on the team. He slides across the arena with a grace that rivals your own, and you’re impressed. Maybe he’s taken a few figure skating classes of his own. If only you could ask.

Quickly, you make sure that the coast is clear before ducking into the men’s locker room. It doesn’t look much different from the women’s locker rooms, with added urinals. It’s muggy even though it’s early, from the male figure skaters taking showers of their own. There’s a lingering scent of stale sweat in the air that makes your nose wrinkle, but you can push through that if it means you get the shower you so desperately need.

You halt, listening for any noise. Nothing. The locker room is perfectly empty.

You hustle to the back of the room where the showers are located, claiming the one furthest from the door. If someone does come inside, they likely won’t take up the empty shower next to you. Something about bro code and urinals, Cassian once mentioned. You pray that it applies to showers, too.

The walls separating each shower come up to your shoulders, and there’s a pair of swinging doors that keep the area enclosed. The water pressure is incredible, much better than in the women’s showers, and you groan as you step under the hot spray. Your towel is hung on the rack, your bag the furthest from the water as you can manage without getting it wet or being seen by anyone that might come your way.

You scrub your hair quickly, and when you turn around to wash the shampoo out, your eyes connect with a very familiar—and very heated—pair of hazel ones.

Azriel.

Holy fuck, this can’t be happening right now. His dark hair is damp with sweat, clinging to his perfectly tan skin. He’s sans shirt, and when your gaze quickly flicks to below the door, notice that he’s not wearing any pants, either.

Your heart pounds in your chest. He’s not supposed to be in here. You’re not supposed to be in here.

“What are you doing in here?” You exclaim, voice pitching high with your nerves. You slap your arms across your chest, even though you know he’s gotten an eyeful of your breasts from his vantage point, way taller than where the doors end.

“What are you doing in here?” He bites back, and the roughness of his voice makes the warmth pounding against your back converge between your legs. Fuck, he’s so attractive. His throat works around a harsh swallow, and you have to clamp your legs together stifle the throbbing.

Azriel watches you shift on your feet uneasily. Tracks you with his dark gaze like you’re a trapped animal and he’s about to pounce.

You kind of like this look on him.

“The women’s showers are out of order and I’m late for class,” you hastily reply, cheeks burning bright. You don’t know why he’s in here or if the rest of the team is seconds from following, but you need to get the fuck out of here right now, go bury your head in your pillow and potentially never return to the ice rink ever again.

This is utterly humiliating.

Azriel opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, raucous laughter and crude jokes fill the space as the rest of the team enter the locker room. Your heart falls to the floor, swirling around with the soap that’s still running from your hair, and slipping down the drain.

Before you can protest, Azriel’s shoving himself inside of the stall with you, uncaring that you’re completely naked and shouldn’t be here. He presses himself up against you and you slip, but he’s righting you, pulling you into his chest where you can feel how very interested he is in this debacle.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You exclaim, and it’s hard to keep your voice from shouting frantically like you want to.

The air becomes a thousand times hotter. You can barely breathe with him pressed up against you like this, turning the both of you and hiding you from the view of his teammates. Your heart still races in your chest, both because your fucking crush is pressing his naked torso up against yours and with the fear that one of his teammates will take notice.

“It’s either I see you naked, or the entire team does,” he whispers, huskily. “And no way in hell am I letting that fucking happen.” He growls and something like pleasure skitters down your spine.

You swallow roughly, “Good call.”

“Practice ended early,” He tacks on, answering your previous question.

“I gathered,” you breathe, but it holds none of the heat that it normally does when you talk to any of the hockey players. Especially Cassian. “You were out there for like, five minutes,” you whisper-shout. You can feel how red your cheeks are, and while this may be mortifying, Azriel’s hard cock pressed into your stomach only adds to your already heightened emotions.

You wonder what he’d do if you got down on your knees right now.

“It’s been an hour,” he responds, and you hold your breath when the water of another shower turns on. Azriel drags you under the spray with him, making it look to his teammates that he’s showering instead of hiding the figure skater they’ve been arguing with for ice time all semester. “Coach wanted to keep us loose for the weekend. We’re supposed to change and watch film.”

Fuck, maybe you were staring for longer than you thought.

You can’t focus. Your entire mind needs rewiring because all you can think about right now is how Azriel’s bare skin is touching yours. How he towers over you, how he’s staring down at you with a heat that rivals a thousand wildfires. Actually, he’s staring a little south of your eyes, right at your—

“Hey,” you snap softly. Your arms are still tucked tightly over your chest, and you hope you’re not experiencing a nip-slip right now. “Eyes up here, asshole.”

Azriel’s smile nearly makes you slip.

“Can’t help myself,” he defends, and this is the most animated you’ve ever seen him. Out on the ice he’s all broody and serious, head strictly in the game. It’s hot, but this side of him, cheeky and smug, might even be hotter. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Can you feel how hard you make me, baby?”

Gods, if he doesn’t shut up right now, you’re probably going to do something you’ll regret later, like grab his hand and slide it right between your—

“Dude,” Cassian’s voice bellows and you duck closer into Azriel’s chest. Each ridge of his impressive muscles contract as he freezes up and despite your heart feeling like it’s about to pound out of your chest, you can admit that this is thrilling. The thought of being caught in here, surrounded by built hockey players, naked with Azriel, makes your core twist with pleasure. “Since when do you have a pink towel?”

You wince. Of course, he can see where the towel is hung on the rack, the dude is massive.

Azriel lies easily, “Yeah, some chick left it over at my place and I brough it to return to her later.” It sounds like something he’s done before. A bite of jealousy hits you hot and harsh at the thought of him doing this with anyone else.

You clench your jaw, but as if he can feel the way you tense, his large hands come to rest on your hips, soothing across your skin. Fucking fuck.

“Used? Nice one, Azzy,” Cassian laughs and nothing more is said while he returns to his own shower.

Azriel eases slightly, the motion making his abs relax. You want to lean forward and lick over them, but now is nor the time nor the place.

You really need to get the fuck out of here.

There’s no way in hell that you’re going to make it to class, dammit.

You hear more showers turn on, and Azriel removes his hands from your hips to reach behind you for the soap you have on the shelf. You watch him as he squeezes some of the shampoo into his hands before scrubbing them through his black hair. He’s like a fucking dream come true, and his cock still hasn’t gone down from where it’s pinned between the both of you, only the thin fabric of his boxers keeping you and it from meeting.

A droplet of soap falls onto your face, and you flinch, but don’t move. You’re not sure if you can, because your limbs are seized up with nerves. You’re not sure you want to.

Azriel rinses his hands off, slowly bringing them to your face. He wipes the droplet away with his knuckle and the feeling goes straight to your core.

“Azriel,” you breathe, but are promptly interrupted for a second time.

“Hey, man.” It’s Rhys. “You ready to kick the Sea Lion’s asses this weekend?” The water turns on in the shower directly next to you and in your haste to shuffle closer to Azriel, your arm brushes up against his cock and his hands fly out, gripping you firmly to keep you from squirming.

Oh. He’s enjoying being in this shower with you as much as you are.

A smirk makes its way onto your face that makes Azriel’s glorious hazel eyes narrow in distrust.

Reaching carefully behind you, you snag the bottle of conditioner from the rack and press it softly into his hand. His brows furrow in confusion as he answers his team captain. “Yeah, dude, Tarquin and his team don’t stand a fucking chance.” He almost chokes when you slide down to your knees in front of him.

“Damn straight,” Rhys says, while Azriel pleads you with his eyes. You’re not sure if he wants you to stop or keep going, but you hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tug anyway.

His cock springs from its confines and the bottle in Azriel’s hand drops, ringing loudly against the floor.

“Shit,” he says, but it’s tight in his throat, like he can’t even get the words out. If someone catches on, he’s screwed.

He leans down to pick up the conditioner bottle and you frown as his cock is pulled from eye-level.

“What do you think you’re doing, pretty girl?”

You lean in close, sliding your hands up his muscular arms, enjoying the way his thick, dark eyelashes flutter under your touch. “Just enjoy, Azriel,” you whisper, your breath casting over his lips. He could grab you by the back of your head and tug you into the kiss he’s been wanting to since the first day you showed up at the rink, snarking at the team for going over their time. His cock jumps at the thought of those pursed lips wrapped around his cock. “And wash my hair while you’re at it.”

“Fuck,” he groans softly, but you pull away before he can rock into you and claim your mouth. He’s been crouched down for too long, anyway, so he rips himself from you, pushing to his feet.

“What do you think about Tarquin?” you hear Rhys ask, but you’re already reaching forward, taking Azriel in your hand. He jerks immediately and when you look up at him, he’s already shooting you an apologetic look, and then another that tells you he isn’t going to last very long.

You like the idea of that. Having this power over him.

He’s hard and smooth in your hand. You watch eagerly as a bead of precum drips from the tip, but it’s washed away by the water still cascading down his body, to your disappointment. If you’re going to be waterboarded, you’re thankful that this is how it’s going to go.

Azriel’s response is choked when you finally wrap your lips around the head of his cock, teasing his slit with the tip of your tongue. The flavor of him bursts on your tongue as another drop of precum follows, and you almost moan before remembering where you are. To keep the noise from coming out, you sink further onto his cock, cutting off your airflow.

“He’s good, but he’s no match for Bloodshed over there,” Azriel answers, and his hand falls to your head, fingers burying into your hair. You can feel the cold of the conditioner and if you weren’t enjoying yourself too much by bobbing your mouth up and down his cock, you’d be worried about the amount he’s using.

“Yeah,” Rhys says. “Their goalie is decent, but our offense is better.”

Azriel hums in response and his other hand finds your face, cupping it and guiding you just the way that he likes.

You take advantage of his help, lathing your tongue across any skin that you can find, reveling in the feeling of it all. Your legs are clenched so tightly together, your clit aching for release. You’re on edge, but you’re terrified of making any noise. You really can’t be found in the men’s locker room like this.

“Dude…” Rhys trails off, and the suspicion in his voice makes you falter, but Azriel’s still guiding your head, trying not to fully say fuck it and jerk his cock as deep as he can go. “Are you fucking jacking off right now?”

“Yeah,” Az answers, because he doesn’t give a fuck anymore. He’s still going to protect you, but his hips are moving, his tip hitting the back of your throat but not pushing any further, so you don’t choke. “So, if you’d kindly fuck off, that’d be ace. We’ll talk at film. Tell coach I’ll be late.”

Rhysand’s answering chuckle rings throughout the stalls when he cuts the water from his shower. “Enough said, Az. You’re fucking sick, but I’m out.”

As soon as Rhysand’s out the door, Azriel’s picking up his pace, gasping out that he’s going to release and trying to pry you off his cock like the gentleman he is.

Too bad you want his cum in your mouth.

You curl your fingers into the meat of his thighs, urging him to stay inside.

“Fuck, baby, you’re fucking perfect,” he groans before he releases himself. He’s all heady and musky, and you swallow him greedily, not letting a single drop escape. Gods, you need to stop acting like this, but around Azriel, you can’t help yourself.

He helps you to your feet and ducks down to capture your lips in a heated, desperate kiss. Your hands find his hair, clutching to him as his tongue traces the seam of your lips, silently asking for permission. You grant it to him, and the kiss turns hot and needy, like he’s been wanting this for a long as you have.

You’re breathless when he pulls away, chest heaving, but your gaze stays locked on his, especially when he sinks to his own knees.

“What are you doing?” you pant, planting your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging deliciously into his skin.

“Returning the favor,” he says, like it’s the simplest answer in the world. He taps the inside of your tingling thighs. “Why do you think I told Rhys to tell coach that I’m going to be late? C’mon, pretty girl, open these legs for me.”

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Hockey!AU Tag (will be tagged for any hockey fic, no matter paring):

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #azriel/reader #azriel x reader #azriel #hockey!azriel #hockey!bat boys #acowar #azriel smut

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meanbossart · 4 months

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i just need to take a second to gush about how much i love durge drow and astarion, they feel so fleshed out and perfectly written together in their fucked up wretched ways. They really inspire me to write more for my own tavs, hopefully one day ill be able to say im as happy with my own work as i get when seeing yours. I have to ask though, do you have any tips on drawing head shapes and faces? or maybe about wrinkles? i find i really struggle with that stuff when drawing and i adore how expressive and grungey all your art looks!

First of all thank you so much, I love hearing what people think of the two of them together 😭

Honestly you've hit on something that's quite near and dear to my heart, I love developing and figuring how to draw and stylize different faces to get the most unique, interesting looking results - everything about the details is highly rewarding to me. What does x type of nose look like from this angle? In this style? How can this eyeshape best translate to my art? How different does a face look when its making this expression? What does that MOUTH DO? etc etc.

In fact you kind of inspired me to put a little tutorial/guide together the last hour lmao and what a blessing it is that the two current subjects of this blog serve as great models here, being that their faces are basically polar opposites!

When it comes to heads, you've probably heard it a dozen times before that you want to think of them in terms of geometry and facets; my process to drawing them is pretty conventional so I won't spend too much time on it, but it goes something like this:

Obviously I don't do every single one of these steps most of the time, which is just something that comes from practice/developing muscle memory, but it is helpful to start off this way for two main reasons:

By making these guide lines and splitting a head into pieces like this, you'll have an easier time seeing and understanding it as a multidimensional object, and in turn, facilitate It for you when you venture out into doing wacky angles and lighting.

Making different headshapes starts HERE. notice how Astarion's "face" slate is narrower and longer, how my durge's jaw pieces sit lower on the head, how all of the same pieces came together in the same way but we ended up with one real pointy elf and a real brick of a drow - making characters look different successfully begins very early in the sketching process.

The next thing you want to do branches out into every day life: start noticing yours and other people's facial features. How does an upturned nose look from a high angle? How does the size of someone's cheekbones affect what they look like when they smile? How about when the light hits them a certain way? Does someone's lip shape changes when they pout? When they laugh? How does a person's hairline change the shape of their face? You do NOT need to creepily sketch every stranger you see on the bus, but get into the habit of actually noticing what people look like when you talk to them - when you look at pictures, when you watch movies - make a mental list of interesting ways mouths, noses, and eyes can come together in a variety of different proportions to make completely distinct looking mugs, and how they change depending on how you are looking at them.

Light and shadow play a HUGE role in how faces look, too, basically as crucial as actual bone structure does. As you see up there I tried to rough out how natural, head on, and underhead light would look on these two very different looking guys, and while we can see definite patterns, there are small differences that come to be because of the sizes and shapes of their features.

Here is a very, very basic look at how some of these features come to look the way they do, how they interact with one another, and how they compare between a blocky, rather conventionally "masculine" head and one that's much softer and slimmer.

Note please that it is not one or two characteristics that give a chaarcter their "look"; you can reduce a face to eyes, mouth, and nose through stylization and still have them be recognizable, but if you want to do more than that, you have to consider the whole package! Chin, cheeks, brows, direction of the jaw, slope and size of the forehead, depth of eyes, ridge of the nose, etc - I know this is probably far more than you bargained for, but if you start making note of a FEW of these things now and slowly add on, this will eventually become second nature to you.

Similarly, understanding how these characteristics come together will help you with rendering light and shadow in a realistic way, and predicting what their facial expressions may look like - if no two people are alike, neither are their smiles. :)

Lastly, remember that I'm no expert - I have developed my own methods and semiotics and yours may look slightly (or vastly) different, and that's fine! I hope only that by sharing this it has given you a base to work off of.

Anyways, I HOPE this has been helpful and not just the unsolicited ramblings of a face pervert.

#ask #art #advice #tutorial #astarion #DU drow

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matts-k1tten · 3 months

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 Pt.2

Pt.1

summary: Matt takes pictures for the year book at Berlin High and y/n always admired him. What she doesn’t know is Matt does not like her one bit. But what happens when she suddenly stops giving him the usual attention?

warnings: foul language, smuttttt ofcc, angst, that’s it I think lemme know if I missed any.

———————————

Here I am rotting in bed, staring at my ceiling still comprehending what went down this afternoon.

It was all going good the night before, what went wrong?

I roll over to my side and check the time.

“10:23”

I need to get some sleep.

I couldn’t cry, I can’t cry, I won’t cry.

Inevitably, I let one tear drop, then two, then three, then a whole river.

I try to sleep with a drenched pillow and a tear stained face.

Can this day get any worse?

My phone dings with a text from Matt.

“You still want me to pay you back?”

I ignore it.

My feelings for Matt doesn’t overpower this heavy feeling in my chest. It’s deep and painful, I don’t want to feel like I’m being dragged on by him.

Another text, then another, then another.

I put my phone on do not disturb and sob into my pillow.

I just want to sleep.

The sound of my alarm wakes me up. My eyes fly open and I immediately get hit with a whiff of delight.

I smell someone cooking breakfast downstairs.

I get up and get dressed. I brush my teeth and do everything I need to do and head downstairs.

I see my mother cooking breakfast.

“Morning honey! I made us breakfast cause I thought that I would do something nice for you.” My mother gives a faint smile but I can see her holding in tears. Like she was hiding something from me.

“Your father isn’t here right now, I don’t know where he is. He left fairly early saying….” She pauses. “Saying he needed time to think.” She finishes.

I nod and sit at the island.

She gives me my plate and I start eating.

“Do you have work today?” I ask chewing on eggs. “No, not today I wanted to take the day off and spend this day by myself and maybe when you get home we can do something?” She utters.

I smile at her.

“Yea, of course.” I smile and put a piece of bacon in my mouth.

She smiles and lets go of a breath turning back around to the stove.

“What are you thinking of doing today?” I query.

“Thinking of shopping, getting something to eat, you know the usual.” She speaks her back still faced to me.

“Oh alright.” I reply and look at the time.

“6:53”.

“Oh shit! I’m gonna be late, bye mom love you!” I scream from the door.

“Bye sweetie love you!” She smiles at me as I slam the door.

I quickly hop in my car and drive off.

Let’s just hope that I don’t run into any distractions.

I’m not in the mood for that today.

ᵐᵃᵗᵗˢ ᵖᵒᵛ

I hop out my car and start making my way to the entrance with my brothers on each side of me.

Some girls call to Chris and I saying things like “Hey handsome” or “Call me”.

I can’t with these high school girls.

We all make it inside and we part ways, I go to my locker, Nick to a teacher to talk about his assignment, and Chris to his friends.

I walk over to my locker and make sure that I have everything.

My books, pencils, and camera.

I need my camera for after school tomorrow. I have to take pictures for the girls soccer team.

Which means that y/n would be there since she does soccer.

How much I dread seeing her.

Speak of the devil, She walks right through the entrance with her soccer shoes in one hand and phone in the other.

She looks up at me for a split second and walks over to her locker.

She didn’t even smile at me or anything.

Just a cold stare.

She stands next to me as she puts everything she doesn’t need away.

I stare down at her waiting for her to acknowledge me. She finally looks up at me in what felt like ages.

“What?!” She snaps.

Her tone takes me by surprise as she never talks to me of all people like that. She always talks like an angel and has the most positive energy, today she’s different.

Something definitely happened.

“You didn’t answer my texts last night.” I speak and lean on the lockers.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah because I fell asleep.” She utters and slams her locker.

“I thought you wanted me to pay you back?” I say in a flirty tone grabbing her hand.

She scoffs.

“Like I said I fell asleep!” She says and pulls herself away and stomps to her class.

That was.. different.

ʸ/ⁿ ᵖᵒᵛ

I angrily slam my books down and plop down in my chair taking a harsh breath out.

We’re in English right now and Matt isn’t in this class, thank god.

There isn’t much students in the class as the bell hasn’t rang yet. Just The teacher and I with about 3 or 4 students in here.

Just then, Angela strolls on in with the biggest smile on her face.

She walks down the aisle to me and plops down.

“So, Chris and my date was Perfect! Towards the end of it, he asked me to be his girlfriend!” She says as she grabs my hand.

I put on my best biggest fake smile.

“That’s amazing Angela!” I say.

“Any luck with Matt?” Angela asks. I let go of her hands.

“No, let’s not talk about boys right now.” I say turning away from her.

She notices something up with me.

“Hey, is something wrong? You’ve been acting different lately.” She states. I sigh harshly. I still haven’t told her about my parents.

I take in a deep breath before speaking.

“My parents got a divorce.” I say quickly and quiet.

Her face turns into a concerned expression.

“Oh poor baby, I’m so sorry.” She says and pulls me into a hug.

I let a tear fall as she hugs me, which soon turns into sobs.

“Hey let’s step out for a moment, yeah?” She says and pulls me out the class.

We grab our stuff and excuse ourselves and the teacher allows us to take our time. As we’re walking out the class, I make eye contact with Matt. His face turns into a slight worried expression seeing my tear stained face.

He starts to walk over but I usher Angela

outside to my car.

We start to walk quickly, Angela not noticing Matt coming after us yet. “Why are we walking so fast?” Angela asks. Just then there’s a hand on my shoulder.

Angela and I both turn to see who it was that stopped me. We both turn to see Matt standing there with a worried face.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” He asks frantic.

“Nothing, now go away.” I say sternly and pull Angela towards my car.

I hear Matt yelling after us but I just ignore him and continue to walk to my car.

Angela and I decide to take the rest of the day off.

“Let’s go to Starbucks, that’ll make you feel better.” Angela suggests. I look at her and just nod smiling faintly.

She smiles and starts to drive.

It falls silent for a moment before Angela speaks up. “Hey, I didn’t want to ask but what was that thing with Matt? I thought you two were doing good?” She asks keeping her eyes on the road.

I stay quiet for a second.

“It’s-it’s nothing, he’s just been getting on my nerves lately.” I reply looking down at my fidgeting hands.

She shakes her head and hums. “Yeah, I get that. Chris was always like that even before we started dating, now it’s even worse since he’s extra clingy.”

I laugh a bit and look out the window to see that Angela was pulling into the starbucks drive through since it wasn’t so far from our school.

“What do you want?” Angela asks. “My usual.” I smile.

She smiles and orders for the both of us.

Before I know it we park somewhere and are laughing while hitting each other.

Angela and I both take deep breaths in and calm down.

“Tell me, what’s really going on with you and Matt?” Angela suddenly asks out of the blue.

It catches me by surprise, so much that i choked on my food.

“I told you, it’s nothing.” I repeat. She gives me a funny look and keeps on pushing me. “C’mon I know something’s wrong just tell me, I’m your best friend!” She pleads.

I groan loudly and hold up my hand to her face to shut her up.

“Fine!” I scream in her face as she turns her whole body towards me with a huge grin on her face like a little kid listening to a story.

“So, in math during that test he asked me to help and he said he’d pay me back, y’know what he meant. That was the night when I found out my parents got a divorce and I ghosted everyone including him, he came up to me in the hallways and I was different towards him.” I rant out.

I look over at Angela who doesn’t even seem to be shocked.

“Woah.” Is all she says and takes a bite out her cookie. “Why didn’t you fuck him?” She screams and leans over the console.

“What?!” I scream in her face. “C’mon! His dick HAS to be big! Chris’s dick was huge.” She says, saying the last part under her breath I could barely hear.

“ANGELA!” I shout and she just laughs and I can’t help but laugh.

“No but seriously, you and Chris fucked? I thought you just went on a date?” I ask as I breathe to calm down. “Well yeah, he brought me back to his place and it got personal and then well.. y’know.” She smiles widely.

I laugh. “Did no one hear you guys?”

“His parents weren’t home. Only him and his brothers but I think Nick heard us because when we were leaving Nick was in the living room looking at us with a death stare so yeah.” She giggles at the end.

I burst out laughing and so does she.

“No but seriously, you have to talk to Matt. You left him wondering what the hell is wrong with you?” She suddenly gets serious.

“I’ll talk to him just don’t worry about him right now, it’s our time right now.”

Angela pulls in my driveway and quickly says bye driving away. My mom texted me saying she was going to be out all night so I’d have to be home alone.

I unlock the door with my key and quickly kick off my shoes and run up to my room. I open my door and turn on my lights suddenly seeing a figure standing before me.

I almost scream when I realize it’s Matt.

I sigh softly and step in my room shutting my door behind me and placing down my bags. “What are you doing here, Matt?” I ask and take off my sweater turning to put it back in my closet.

“I wanted to see you, something’s wrong with you. You don’t have to tell me I just wanted to see if you’re ok.” Matt says walking around my room examining my posters and collectibles.

“How did you even get in here?” I ask sitting down on my bed looking up at him. He points to the now open window.

“Right.” I whisper.

“Well I’m fine, can you go now? I’m tired.” I utter. “How? It’s only like 6 o’clock?” Matt says plopping down next to me.

My feelings for Matt would never change, which is why I’m feeling so many things right now.

“Well it’s 7:30 actually thank you.” I correct him.

I stay quiet as he stares at me.

“Y’know I never payed you back right?” Matt whispers.

“What?” I whisper turning my head towards him. I didn’t get to say more before he was smashing his lips into mine. I barely get to comprehend what he’s doing before I shut my eyes and kiss him back.

Matt pushes me down on the bed and crawls over me never breaking the kiss.

He continues to kiss me, the kiss growing more hungry and full of desire the more aggressive he gets.

He suddenly flips us over me now straddling his lap making me gasp.

He slips his tongue in my mouth and uses it to explore my mouth.

I can’t help but to let out soft moans into the kiss as he grips my waist moving my hips back and forth making me grind down on him.

This only makes my noises grow louder by the second, he seems to enjoy it by the way he keeps on grunting into the kiss.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of our saliva and our grunts and moans.

We both pull away to catch our breaths and put our foreheads against one another. We’re both breathing heavy as I look down at his lips which are now swollen and red due to the previous moments.

He kisses me again seeming to not get enough but this time the kiss was more aggressive and hungry.

I could feel him growing from under me as his hands grasp everywhere around my body.

Matt pulls away to take off my top as he takes off his shirt.

He kisses me again while his hands go around my back to unclasp my bra, He throws my bra to the floor with the rest of our clothes.

I can tell he’s starting to get impatient so I quickly lift myself up to remove our pants.

He yanks down my sweatpants as he goes to lick my breasts. I can’t help the noises that come out my mouth as he lifts me up to yank down his pants his boxers going with it.

Oh shit, Angela was right. It’s huge.

My mouth falls open as I stare at it. “You like what you see?” Matt asks teasingly. I can’t say anything as I just nod.

He rips off my last layer of clothing and starts to examine me drooling. “Wipe that drool off your face.” I giggle feeling his heart rate pick up.

“Do I make you nervous?” I ask while running my hands up and down his chest.

He shakes his head as his hands grips my hips lifting me at the tip.

“Just tell me when to stop okay?” He says as I nod.

“You ready?” He asks. I nod again.

I slowly start to sink down on him taking every inch slowly. I bite down on my bottom lip to muffle any sound that threatens to come out.

Once every inch is inside me, he pauses letting me adjust. I whimper loudly and grip his muscles so firm with my nails that it’ll surely leave a scar.

Matt starts to move my hips up and down slowly. I hiss in pain as I continue to move slowly. My grip on his muscle slowly starts to increase the longer he moves me.

The burning sensation soon turned into pleasure as he starts to move me faster.

Matt throws his head back as I start to take control, bouncing uncontrollably. All you could hear is our skin slapping and the noises coming my from us.

Thank god no one was home.

Matt grips my hips harder with each passing second for sure leaving marks on my skin.

Matt’s so deep that he’s finding places that I didn’t even know existed.

Matt suddenly starts to thrust up into me taking me by surprise.

I grow louder and louder the more he pounds into me from underneath me.

He hits a spot deep inside me that makes me go wild. I can’t control the noises that come out my mouth as I feel a knot building up in my stomach.

I see dots of white as Matt speaks up.

“Is this what you wanted?” Matt grunts and goes impossibly faster. I can’t form any words as I just stare into his eyes with my jaw slightly opened.

Matt chuckles and buries his face in my neck and starts to suck and nibble.

Matt hits that spot repeatedly again, again, and again.

I’m moaning uncontrollably as Matt goes crazy and moves his hands all around my body.

Matt grunts as my hips snap back and forth from his pelvis.

The knot suddenly snaps and I’m releasing all over him. Matt’s thrusts grow sloppier and grips me harder until it hurts adding to the pleasure.

My moans echo all throughout the house as Matt finishes in me with a long whimper.

I lay my head on his shoulder as we both breathe heavily.

We stay like that for a while before he lifts me off him.

“You good?” He asks looking at my fucked out impression.

I just nod and struggle to stand up. Our mixed liquids running down my legs.

He grabs me and places me on the bed and grabs my towel to clean me up. He cleans the mess we made and helps me sit up.

I grab some shorts and a baggy t-shirt and pull it on as he gets dressed.

I lay in bed ready to knock out as Matt goes to climb out my window.

“Matt?” I mumble already drifting starting to sleep.

He pauses.

“Yeah?” He answers.

“Can you stay?”

“What?”

“Can you stay?”

Matt hesitates for a moment then closes the window without another word and climbs into bed with me.

He lies down next to me as I snuggle into his chest. He wraps his arms around me and cuddles me till I fall asleep.

“I love you Matt.” I mumble so quiet you could barely hear.

“W-what? You love me?” Matt asks.

I don’t answer already fast asleep as he holds me close.

Matt’s left with a stunned expression as he rethinks what I had just said to him.

Matt soon falls asleep with me in his arms laying his head on mine.

————————

a/n: the long awaited pt.2!! guys I was laughing so hard while writing this it’s not even funny💀💀 no cliffhanger this time bc ik yall would hate me for that 😝😝 but lemme know what yall think!!

taglist: @mattybswife @sillyfreakfanparty @stasiesturn @braindead4l @sturniololol @idkwhatthisevenislol @blushbunii @cindylcuwho @jennss23 @tyslover @st7rnioioss @ilovechrissturniolo1

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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I’m such a simp for jealous!reader and jealous!hotch lmaooooo

What if reader and Hotch were married and had other kiddos so they had to split off for sports activities (jack at soccer and other kiddos at basketball or something). Then like either jack or other kiddos thing gets done early and then either hotch or reader sees their spouse getting hit in repeatedly and becomes jealous and territorial?

Soccer is different than baseball in that there are soccer moms, but baseball dads. The moms that happen to be there take a backseat on the bleachers while the dads huddle around the fence, shouting instructions in on their trembling kids scared to bat.

It means that while Aaron has to deal with women in form-fitting workout gear when he picks Jack up from soccer practice, you have to deal with dads in baseball caps, jeans, and shitty sunglasses.

Your daughter is getting good at baseball, something you're insanely proud of while you cheer along from the bleachers. Aaron would be proud, too, if he were here to see it. But he's on Jack duty today, because you wanted to catch this game. You're hoping the boys make it to the field in time to see her close out the game, but you're nearing the halfway point and there's no sign of them.

"Alright, Sophie!" You cheer, watching her strike an opposing batter out, "Good throw, baby!"

"Ah, she's yours?" A voice comes from your left, and you see a man backing away from the fence to approach you.

"She is," You beam, eyes fixated once more on your daughter, "Which one's yours?"

"Number 15," He points to one of the girls on the bench, She.. tries her best."

You recognize the brunette ponytail on the girl, remembering that she's been having a hard time with batting. When she's able to hit the ball, it's always a good shot, but more often than not she misses.

"I'm sure she'll get better the more she plays!" You promise her dad, and he nods, perching on the end of the bench just below you, "That's what happened with Sophie, before we did at-home practices she was really struggling."

The man's face twists into intrigue, something deeper than that rooted in his eyes as he stares you down, "Oh, you practiced with her? Maybe Angel could use that, too. Are you, uh, taking applications?"

"Oh," You laugh, "No, that's- I'm not a coach or anything. In fact- uh, my husband and son were probably more helpful than I was."

It's like you've cut the power to the man's megawatt smile. The light in his face dims, and his face sours as he stands to walk away, "Oh. Understood."

It's then that you come to the disheartening realization that he was flirting with you. Not only that, but he'd only played nice when he thought he had a shot. Now that he knows you're spoken for, he's hooked back over the fence, shouting at the players.

A hand drapes itself over your collarbones from behind, and you startle before you realize that Aaron is hugging you from the other side of the bleachers.

"Oh!" You gush, letting Jack clamor into your lap to hug you while Aaron walks around to sit beside you, 'You scared me, Aaron."

"Sorry," He grins bashfully, scanning the field and seeing Sophie talking to the coach, "How is she doing?"

"Good," You grin, smoothing out Jack's sweaty post-soccer hair, "She just struck that little brat from the other team out, the one who got mud on her popsicle last time."

"Good girl," Aaron chuckles, watching Jack rush off to play with a few other kids by the trunk of a big tree, "Who were you talking to?"

"Angel's dad," You recall uneasily, "Uh- number fifteen. He was-"

"Flirting with you," Aaron concludes, "I know."

"You saw?" You ask warily, eyes apologetic, "Aaron, I'm sorry, I- I didn't realize until he left, and then you got there, so I just forgot about it, but if you want I can avoid him next time, or-"

"Hey," Aaron sets a hand on your thigh, leaning in to kiss you softly, "It's alright. Don't worry about it, I'm not angry."

"You're not?" Your brows furrow, and he leans in to kiss you again, wiping the expression from your face.

"No," He shakes his head, forehead leaned against yours briefly, "Well- I was, but he totally just saw me kiss you. Twice. So..."

"Oh," You laugh bashfully, leaning over to tuck your face against his shoulder, "Well, that's good. Hopefully he leaves me alone."

"Hopefully," Aaron agrees, squeezing you closer with his arm around your shoulder, "Oh, don't look now, but he's talking to Jia's mom."

"Which one?" You retort, something smug lining your features as you wonder how she'll break the news to him.

"Gloria," He tries not to stare, ducking his gaze back down to your face instead, "Hey, perfect place to tell someone you bat for the other team."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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wonderlandwalker · 5 months

Text

Remember | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: The capitol has taken you from him, but he won't let them keep you. You can find pt. 2 here!

Content Warnings/Tags: Violence, bullet wounds, major character injury, blood, needles, angst, fluff, no use of y/n

Word Count: 4.0k

Requested by Anon: omg I love your writing and I have an unhealthy addiction to reading angst so could you please write something about the reader being with peeta and Johanna when they where taken by the capital and her being with finnick and recovering while she’s in district 13? 🫶🫶

A/N: The way I smiled when I saw this request I swear. This one has been in the works for a little while and I thought it fit perfectly. It is angst you ask for and it is angst you shall get. I'm considering writing a part two but I'm not sure how to yet. My bad habit of not proofreading happened again and with this one especially it was way too long so if I made any major errors pls do let me know.

The Capitol.

You are currently in the Capitol.

At least that’s where you think you are. You remember being in the arena, you remember running towards the general direction you last saw Finnick, remembering the marks you had gone by in case you had to take a different route. You remember seeing Finnick's face through the plantation, you’d be able to recall those features anywhere. You remember something hitting you from behind and falling to the ground, too caught up in catching up with him to check your surroundings. You remember crying out in pain, hoping he’d hear you. But the next thing you remember is the vision of him slowly going out of focus and losing consciousness not long after.

At least that's what you think happened.

At least you can still remember, that’s worth something right? You remember your past, and you remember the reaping that led to the arena. The flood of relief that went over you as you finally found your way back to him. You don’t know what happened to Finnick, he was there too after all, but you had needed to split up early. Maybe he had been caught off guard too. Maybe he escaped. Maybe they never even found him. Maybe with him being the idiot he could be, he was probably already on his way here, looking for you. Just like you would have done for him, and he would have called you an idiot then too.

You would get out of here one way or another, that much you knew, but you needed to remember more, you needed to remember the last look on his face, you hadn't had much time to take it in, but you remembered the furrow of his eyebrows, the same expression he always had when he was trying to concentrate, you needed to remember that.

You knew that once you did get out of here, Finnick would be furious, telling you that you had been reckless, that you shouldn't have let your guard down, shortly after telling you how worried he had been. And it would feel like coming home.

Your mind becomes hazier, and it is harder to remember. You feel your head throbbing, and you move your hand towards it until you feel it can move no further. You open your eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the bright light that covers the room. You can't see much, can't move your head much.

You remember the rendezvous point you had talked about. You remember the quick “don't get yourself in trouble” and the kiss he gave you right before you parted ways.

You remember the layers of plants and trees you moved through, seeing some of them cut down, letting you know someone else had been there

But you know there is more, more that you missed. The stomped-out ashes that you ran past, you know you should have paid closer attention. But you can’t remember

You need to remember what happened. How you got here. Who got you here. If you really are in the capitol. But your mind doesn't want to cooperate anymore. The room is getting darker and darker, even though the lamp above your head is still dutifully buzzing

You wake up, you still remember where you are, or at least where you think you are. You still remember yesterday, was it yesterday? Why couldn't they just hang a clock in here?

You look up, and you see a device set up, not too far from where you're lying down. You try to get a better look but the light above your head is too blinding to see anything else in the room. You don’t fully understand it until a man walks into the room with a video camera in his hand and an expression on his face that seems just a tad too happy.

The camera starts blinking a red light, signalling you that it has started recording. The man has a sort of laser that he presses into your lower stomach, it doesn't breach your skin but it hurts like it does. It takes all your energy not to show him the satisfaction of it.

“Come on now darling, work with me a little.” He says after a while, changing the setting on the laser. The last bit of your energy is gone, and you can't keep the screaming from escaping any longer. It echoes off the white walls around you and when you hear yourself, you barely even recognize it. He seems satisfied with the result and finally puts the laser down. You look down but don't see any burn marks or indication of what has just happened.

He comes closer and you can see he is holding a sort of crowbar, but you're not sure why. You remember how you always left one outside your window in the districts, in case the wind had shut it and you needed to sneak back in. You remember Finnick finding out, giving you a serious, disappointed look, but not telling you to stop.

Before you can think of anything else, the bar hits you with full force, right above the spot he was previously focused on. You didn't expect it, and it knocks the little breath you had left out of your lungs. He hits again, not in the same spot, but close, he is very clearly aiming for your ribs. The switching between high-tech and old-school weapons has you puzzled, but you can't deny the result either of them has.

After a while, he stops, and with the added difficulty and pain that now comes with breathing, you are more than certain he just bruised a few of your ribs.

He walks back, taking the camera in his hands. He aims it at your face and you close your eyes to try and collect yourself as much as your current state allows. Your hair is a tangled mess and you are rather certain there is blood smushed over your face from the cuts you got in the arena.

“Smile for the camera sweetheart.” He asks, even though it sounds more like an order than a request. You open your eyes to look at him. He is so close, and you want to drive your thumbs so far into his eye sockets you can feel the front lobe of his brain, if he even has one. But you can't do anything, no matter how much you want to fight, you are powerless here. You close your eyes again, trying to block everything out and remember.

You remember District Four, the way the light summer breeze would always carry the smell of the beach to your house, no matter how hard you had it, it always livened you up. You remember the first time Finnick tried to teach you how to surf, being so gentle with you no matter how many times you fell off it, always there to catch you again. You remember your last birthday, well, the day after, but you couldn't even complain about that. He had picked you up from your place and brought you to one of the lakes with him. He told you the story of one of his birthdays when he was younger, along with all the embarrassing details, but of course, it only endeared him further to you. You told him about the presents you got and all the people who came to wish you a happy birthday. You told him everything you could remember. You remember last seeing his face, maybe it was the last time you will have ever seen it. No. No, you remember it, but you’ll see it again, you have to.

“I’ll make sure your loverboy gets to see this, wherever he is, wouldn't want him to miss out on the fun.”

Finn. Finnick. You remember Finnick. You remember when you returned from your first games. The black eye and broken arm you came home with. You remember how he lost it when they didn't immediately treat you for it. He would now either throw a fit over it for everyone to see or be so stoic in his thoughts even Johanna would get a little concerned.

You see the man standing up, walking to the table, and picking up something new. A syringe, it's a syringe. He walks over and pushes it into your upper arm, and before you know it, your vision turns black again.

You remember waking up to gunshots, and you panic. But after a few seconds, you figure out they’re not near you. There is, however, someone in the room with you, it's the same man again. He looks a little panicked, but you can’t figure out why just yet. The gunshots are becoming louder, and closer, and he seems more startled now. His arms drop to his sides from what he was doing and his eyes widen. Screams are echoing and you can hear footsteps.

You remember that pattern of paddling feet, and you recognize the second pair of steps too, but you can't remember much else.

The man gets closer to you, placing his hand over your mouth, pulling out a gun with his free hand and telling you to stay quiet. You never understood why people say that, it means he has something to lose, and you want to scream out, but your voice doesn't remember how to.

It's even closer now, right outside the door, and you can hear talking. You remember his voice. How he always asked you so sweetly how your day had been, the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you fell asleep.

You hear the door jiggle, and it makes you want to scream out for him, but your sore throat won't let you. For a moment you think that is it, you had your chance, and you let it go by. He’ll move along the hallway to the other doors and leave you here. But then you hear another gunshot, and they must have shot the lock, because right after you hear someone running into the door with an echoing thump as it breaks open.

The man next to you had his gun pointed at the door, and he changes it to point at you instead.

You were right, by the gods you had never been so thankful to have been right. Finnick walks in, and you can see the colour drain from his face as he does so.

The man standing next to you is starting to get nervous, you can see the sweat starting to drip down his face. He must realize he has been matched, because there are more people by Finnicks side. But the man still has his gun pointed at you, and this isn't over just yet.

You can't keep your eyes open anymore, and when you close them, you remember. You remember your first kiss with Finnick, how nervous he had been at the time. He had been shaking a little and told you he was embarrassed by how much you got to him, but it only endeared him further to you. He yells at the man to let go of the gun, he sounds nervous again.

But he doesn't let go, he decides to shoot.

You hear the bullet leaving the gun, and for a single moment, you think it's over. The last thing you’ll ever see is Finnick, but he’s not himself. He’s upset, and even though you know he’s not upset with you, it still tugs at you. Except when you feel the bullet piercing through your skin, that's exactly what you realise. You can still feel it. He didn't shoot you right in the heart, he didn't shoot towards your head, he shot you in the abdomen. You’re not sure why, not sure why he didn't kill you, but you will never know, because not even a second passes as you hear a second gunshot, and he falls to the floor.

You can't seem to remember how to open your eyes, but you can hear Finnick rushing over and right as he reaches you, you fall. You fall into his arms and the memory of it gives you hope. Something comes in contact with your stomach, and the agony of it makes you want to scream out. You can feel him lifting you, and the shift of your body makes the bullet move, making you want to scream again. And if you remembered how to, you would have.

You know he’s talking to someone, but it sounds more like buzzing to you. You can only make out certain parts of the conversation, something about needing to leave, something about infections, and something about an aircraft.

You can hear him talking again, and this time it’s directed at you. There’s a strain in his voice, and it sounds like he’s crying. It makes you want to comfort him, but you don’t remember how to.

“Please darling, just open your eyes."

But you’re afraid, youre afraid that if you open them, everything will turn out to be nothing but a dream, and he won’t be here anymore. But even if this is a dream, you need to see him. Even if it will turn into a haunted memory, you need to see his eyes looking back at you. It takes you some effort, but you open your eyes, looking at him. You can see tears flooding his face, you can see his lips moving, silent pleas coming from them for you to stay awake. He’s telling you how good of a job you’re doing, he's telling you to hold on. He promises that he won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again and that he won’t let go of you anymore.

You remember how he cried when you were reaped for the 75th games, and how you had told him everything would be okay, how you had comforted him, but you don't have the energy to comfort him this time. You remember hearing his sobbing, his shaking voice when you close your eyes again, not being able to keep them open any longer, even if you wanted to.

You wake up again, and for a moment you think it had indeed all been a dream, that you were right back where you had started, But then you remember the bullet in your stomach. You look down and see a bandage over it, even though it’s already soaked in blood. They must have taken it out.

You try and concentrate, and you can hear Finnick talking to someone. “Just tell me, I know it’s bad but I need to know.” “Finnick, it won’t make a difference.” The person he’s talking to sounds desperate, and you remember how stubborn he could be when it came to you.

But you don’t remember more, because your head starts to feel light again and you give in to the feeling.

When you wake up again, you manage to open your eyes, and you can see someone sitting in a chair next to the bed you're in. He’s slumped over, his face half pressed into the mattress and half into your stomach, both of his hands are holding onto one of yours. It hurts a little, but you don't mind, because it reminds you, even when you look away, that he is still there. You remember the way he always softly snores, and the way he wiggles his nose when your hair falls over it.

You think you're connected to a monitor, because something is beeping in the same rhythm you can feel your heart beating, and it gives you a headache. So you close your eyes again, and once again, you give in to the feeling of sleep that looms over you.

Since you had been brought to District 13, he has barely left your side. He keeps putting cold washcloths on your forehead to try and break your fever. It won't help, and he knows it, but no one has the heart to stop him.

You haven't shown a single sign of life since they had found you. It was unsettling, the silence that filled the room, none of your usual laughter and banter there to replace it.

It’s only when Finnick's head shoots up that the others notice it as well. The steady beeping that has been imposing the silence in this room for weeks picking up its pace. The beating continues to go faster and faster, your body shaking up from the bed in almost the same rhythm. But right before anyone can do anything about it, it stops. It all seems to stop, you stop moving, and the monitor stops beating.

He starts giving you chest compressions, and someone rushes into the room holding a small bottle, they fill a syringe with the clear liquid and inject it into your arm. Within a few seconds, your heart starts beating again. But it’s only after a minute of the monitor showing him a steady heartrate that he stops his actions.

It’s dark in the room when Finnick wakes up, and if it wasn't for the soft light and the beeping of the monitor, he would've thought he was dreaming, but it seems the reality won’t let him escape. He struggles not to fall back asleep, and every few minutes he does, but every time he wakes up startled again, scared that you’ll be gone if he doesn't open his eyes every once in a while. It was easy to see the toll it had taken on him. His posture was slouched, his face less well-groomed than usual. But no one could blame him, because they could see the way he looked at you, as if you were the sun and your dimmed light turned his world dark.

He knows the chance you can hear him is small, but he feels the urge to talk to you nonetheless.

“I don't think I can hold this in any longer. I remember some studies that have shown people in comas do hear what's going on around them, but maybe it’s for the best that you don’t, because you would never say yes.”

He continues but he feels his voice choke up, and he runs a hand through your hair to calm himself down, his other hand still holding onto yours.

“We talked about it once, I still remember every single word you said. You came at me with all your logical reasons for why it would be a bad idea. But what you never understood is that when it comes to you, I'm not able to think rationally, because my love for you will overpower anything else.” He chuckles softly as he recalls the memory he’s about to tell you next.

“I remember when I opened up to you for the first time. I had always held things to myself, but you were so calm as I talked to you. I thought for sure I had screwed it up somehow then. Everyone always tells me now how happy you make me, and they're right. Ever since you came into my life there has not been a single moment when the thought of you did not bring me joy, even when we fought my memories of you could still somehow bring a smile to my face.

I remember when they showed me the video, they hadn't wanted me to see it, but you know how stubborn I can be when it comes to you. I saw you, I saw the way in which they were hurting you. And I started yelling, ironically enough in that moment, you were the only one that could have calmed me down. I remember yelling at them, fighting with them not to wait any longer, that they couldn't let you wait any longer, they had to have me sedating until they came to a conclusion."

He reaches into the pocket of his trousers, taking a small ring. It was his mother's ring, he had found it a while back and had carried it with him ever since. He had thought of moments to give it to you, but every time there was one, every time he was about to ask you, something had happened, something had interrupted him. But there was no one interrupting him this time. “I have thought about asking you this every time I see you, and I can't hold it in any longer. So when you wake up, not if you wake up, because I know you will. I know you will wake up because you have to. So when you wake up, will you marry me.” A little part of him had thought you'd wake up, that you’d answer him. Even if you said no, it would still be better than what's happening right now, because he didn't care if you'd say no, if you’d say you weren't ready, because nothing could be worse than the silence that followed him. And so he slid the ring onto your finger delicately, as if you were to disappear if he wasn't careful. He put the ring on your hand because he knew that even if it wasn't today, and it wasn't tomorrow, someday you would marry him, and he wouldn't let you slip away.

At first, he thought he was imagining it, sleep deprivation and desperation playing a trick on his mind. But then he saw it again, in the beams of morning light he could see your hand moving, as if it was trying to grasp onto something, trying to pull you back into this world. It woke him up in an instant. But it was all followed so fast, the way your eyes slowly opened, squinting at the light. Before you had even awoken for a second, he moved from where he had been right beside you in order to hug you. And he was about to get lost in the thought of your moving lips, tears falling down his eyes, about to get lost in a kiss full of built-up pain and desperation when he noticed, something was wrong. Your eyebrows were knitted together and the corners of your mouth turned down just a little. He looked at your expression, your body language, something was wrong. You looked vulnerable, you looked like you wanted to protect yourself from someone.

It was only when he looked into your eyes that he truly understood something was very wrong.

Your eyes looked as if you were in pain, but it wasn't a look of any physical pain, it looked as if something was endangering you, but he couldn't understand what it was. He slowly moved so as not to startle you and asked you “Darling, what’s wrong” And at first you didn’t respond, but when he kept looking at you, expecting him to answer you, you started to speak. “Am I supposed to remember you?”

He immediately flinched back at the statement, his shoulder sunk and his eyes dimmed. Someone told him it wasn't uncommon for brain injuries to cause short-term memory loss after a coma.

So slowly, and surely, he made it work. But it was crumbling him down every time you didn't remember the unconscious acts of affection, so foreign to you now. A quick touch on your arm as he walked towards you made you flinch slightly as if his hand had been on fire. The subtle smiles he gave you when entering a room were now met with you looking down. The way that even though you were physically here, you really weren't.

He promised himself, he vowed to himself that he would make you remember. That no matter how long it took, he would wait for you. He would wait for you to remember, make you remember. Because he had very quickly learned that he couldn’t live without you anymore.

Part 2: Trying to Forget

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tommykinard6 · 2 months

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Should I be eating and resting? Yes. Am I? No, so come join me for a dissertation on Tommy Kinard being lonely.

Edit to add a note since I saw a reblog about it: Tommy has no canonical age right now and Lou is 39, 40 later this year, so that is my basis for saying he’s 39.

Now when I say lonely, I don’t mean that he has no one whatsoever. I can picture him going for drinks with his team or having some Muay Thai buddies that he could call up if he really was inclined. Maybe an old army buddy or two.

But there’s something about Tommy that’s just achingly lonely, both when he was at the 118 and now at Harbor.

Tommy had a broken home, or some other kind of unstable childhood. Maybe his parents split, maybe he was mistreated, maybe he was in the system or was passed around family members. Maybe he was isolated as a child because he was a little overweight (I think Lou said something along those lines) and was bullied. I think Tommy didn’t really have any friends until high school, when puberty hit and maybe he started working out and probably joined the football team. I don’t know if anyone remembers what teenage boys are like, but I can imagine they were the same as they are today back in the 90s/early 00’s. Because around this time, Tommy might’ve started to realize that something was very different about him.

Now this isn’t a meta about how I think Tommy dealt with his sexuality (maybe I’ll do one of those later) but I think he never would’ve risked his football friends knowing even if he himself could acknowledge it, which I doubt. So he messed around, got in trouble with these guys, hung out with the bros, and pretended to be interested in girl talk.

Of course, eventually, his buddies all got girlfriends and he was always the odd one out again.

He didn’t do college. The army was his next step. And I feel like this might have been the first time in his life he wasn’t lonely. He’d learned to blend in by this point and he worked with some great people. But as he started making real friends for the first time, he also started losing them as the war tore them away.

Tommy left the army and joined the fire department. There was an aching hole where the camaraderie of the army had filled previously and with no education beyond a high school diploma, Tommy thought the fire department would replicate that. Not the police though. He’d had enough of guns.

(And ohhhh now so many ideas on his thoughts during the sniper)

But he ended up at the 118 and quickly realized that his team had maybe more of a DADT stance than the army. He realized that he had to put on an elaborate act to fool his fellow firefighters, who had more time on their hands and more prejudice they were willing to wield to pick apart his life. Tommy, who maybe had only just started to acknowledge he felt differently about guys with less panic than before, had no choice but to backslide. He acted and acted and crafted a person he wasn’t until the day that maybe he was. Sal was his closest buddy at the 118 and Tommy had no doubt that Sal would be one of the first to make his life hell. Gerrard seemed to look at Tommy as some sort of mentee. Boxed in by two notorious bigots, Tommy had never felt more claustrophobically alone.

Chim was the first one to reach out a hand of friendship, or at least the first one that didn’t come with caution tape, but he was also an “other” and Tommy, who was confused and afraid and had just had his captain call his bluff on his fake girlfriend, lashed out. Then he allowed Chim in and Chim wasn’t interested in being besties but he was a great drinking buddy and movie buddy and Tommy felt safest around him.

Then Hen came and Tommy watched her get the same treatment he was afraid of. Not that he had to worry about the racism, and he was aware of the privilege, but Hen didn’t exactly hide herself and he watched them bully his lesbian coworker. He let himself get pulled into it all and hated himself for it, but was too cowardly to break away from it. He wasn’t sure why Hen had forgiven him, but she became the only other person on shift he felt even a little safe around other than Howie. But then Chimney and Hen became best friends and Tommy fell to the wayside. They still included him, sure, but they were always a pair and there was something there that Tommy didn’t know but longed for. A closeness he’d never felt.

A best friend. A juvenile idea to him, but one he’d never truly had.

Then Gerrard was gone and Sal got transferred and the 118 moved forward under Captain Nash, but Tommy felt left behind, even in what was the most united A shift team yet. Because he was over 30 and was starting to be unable to ignore everything that he’d had to hide under Gerrard, as he no longer had a distraction from it.

He’d been a pilot in the army, so he transferred to Harbor. And Harbor was great. He wasn’t best buds with anyone (he was starting to think that was never in the cards for him) but his team didn’t carry the same baggage that the 118 had.

So Tommy started to come to terms with himself. He started to date for the first time and came out to his team. And he had several boyfriends, but most couldn’t handle the job or his baggage or the desperate need he had to be wanted. His most long term partner cheated and the one he fell hardest for couldn’t deal when Tommy was injured on the job. Even within his own relationships, he felt like he was destined to stand alone.

Tommy was 39 years old and alone, as always, when Chimney walked back into his life, dragging an adorable and also extremely hot blonde and a stoic brunette that radiated ex military in a way only ex military could know. And then Hen was there and they were trying to rescue their captain and his wife and they clearly loved each other fiercely and like family.

And as Tommy listened, flying through the remnants of a cat 5 hurricane, he thought to himself that he should’ve never left. Simply just never found himself if only that meant being part of the family the 118 was now. However, he knew deep down that he still would’ve been alone and on the outside.

And they rescued the survivors and Tommy thought that was it but then Eddie wanted to hang out. And they liked the same things and had similar experiences and Tommy couldn’t help the hope. Because the loneliness had grown stifling and now he could breathe a little. And then Evan, the cute blonde, wanted a tour of the hanger and he thought that maybe he was being hit on.

And then at the end of it all, Tommy was left realizing that he’d wedged himself between two best friends and that was what happened when he allowed himself to hope. So he went to Evan to apologize. He would get Evan and Eddie to talk to each other and then would fade into the background.

But then Evan was sweet and apologetic and told him that he was part of the 118 family simply by helping them. Tommy couldn’t help it. Here he was, at 39, with a little boy still waiting inside of him to be soothed. And Evan was hot and sweet and Tommy couldn’t help himself.

And he really liked Evan. Evan was adorable. But their first date didn’t go as planned and Tommy knew he was already whipped. So he removed himself before someone could get hurt. Evan deserved better and so did he, even if the loneliness was stifling again.

But then Evan texted him and looked at him with sparkling blue eyes over too sweet coffee and wanted him. Him. He wanted Tommy and to have something with Tommy and he wanted him to come to his sister’s wedding with him.

And Tommy looked at him and saw someone who could finally fill the ache he’d felt his whole life. He saw a man who he knew he wanted to take a chance with. All he had to do was jump.

And he did.

And it wasn’t solved, not immediately and never fully. Too many wounds were left gaping for too long to ever heal. But for the first time in his life, at 39, with the 118 surrounding him and Buck as the sunshine at his side, Tommy finally felt at peace.

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oracle-of-dream · 1 month

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Sweetness #5

Minors DNI

Summary: This is a continuation of Sweetness #4, Sohee's been avoiding you–much to your dismay. You're going to have to corner him if you want to keep your plan on track...

Warnings: Male Reader, Virgin Sohee, Blowjob, Handjob, Riding, Pet names (Love, Sweetness), Thick Cock Sohee, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Crying, Cum swallowing, Creampie, Cockwarming, Talking through it

Wordcount: 3.6k

Your dreams were almost a review of the last few days. Sungchan, Anton, Seunghan, Eunseok, and now Shotaro. A collection of memories, each full of pleasure made you sweat under the covers. The whole thing seemed silly at this point. Fucking your friends to get back at them for trying to take advantage of you. Was anyone really being punished? Or were you actually just wanting to have fun with each of them? So what if you enjoyed having sex with them? It's not like things would be different... right?

You tossed and turned as doubt stacked in your mind. Were you really making the right call by going overboard in your plan? It was just supposed to be an act to catch them, but you still ended up having sex by the end of it. With Shotaro, you didn't even bother keeping up the act for long...

If you stopped now, what would they think? What if Sohee thought you hated him? You can't stop now. You have to see it through to the end.

In the morning, your thighs were still sore from your early morning visit to the bathroom with Shotaro so you took your time before getting out of bed. It was 11 AM when you came out of your room, the others were whispering with each other which stopped when you walked in.

"Good morning, y/n... How are you feeling?" Anton asked.

You rubbed the back of your neck. "I'm okay, I think the pain in my back and neck is almost gone. I must've slept weird and it messed me up pretty badly."

The others exchanged looks with each other, all having some sort of understanding in their eyes. They were probably talking about if they'd tell you–maybe then you'd come clean.

"We're glad you're doing a bit better. Sungchan's finishing breakfast any minute now, so come sit." Seunghan told you as he pulled out a chair.

"Aww, I wanted y/n to sit next to me!" Shotaro complained.

"He sat with you last time," Eunseok said, seated on the other side of your empty chair. Sitting between them reminded you of being sandwiched between them in bed. You shook your head, tossing the thought aside, as you fixed your pants so your bulge wouldn't show. You only thought about it for a split-second but you were already getting hard from remembering it.

"I'll sit next to Sohee and Wonbin," You said as you moved toward the two.

"Shotaro, you can have my seat since you want to sit with y/n," Sohee muttered. Shotaro was happy to take Sohee's seat if he could sit by you. You noted Sohee's distance from you but knew you couldn't bring it up now. It would only make noise where you didn't need it.

Sungchan served breakfast, slightly burned sausages with waffles and juice. Everyone ate quietly, the sound from the nearby TV kept the room from completely silent. The news said that the snowstorm was ending, and the ice should begin to melt tonight, meaning you could go home tomorrow. You were running out of time... You eyed Sohee as he ate, he tried to avoid your gaze but you knew he could see you looking at him. As soon as he finished his plate, you stood and scooped it off the table.

"I'll take this for you, Sohee," You said warmly, smiling at him.

He nodded, trying not to look at your face. "Thank you," He muttered before getting up and moving to the couch in the living room to be closer to the TV. You put the dishes in the sink, which Anton was responsible for cleaning according to the others, and made your way to sit on the couch. You were a comfortable distance from Sohee, but you noticed he shifted away from you as you sat down. Only a few minutes before he got up and walked into the bathroom. Wonbin took his place on the couch, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Why are you following Sohee so closely?"

"I'm not–"

"You watched him like a cat on a rat. I'm sure he felt it."

You sighed. "Does Sohee have an issue with me? He's not normally so distant... Did I do something?"

Wonbin chuckled before leaning in to whisper, "You mean other than fuck his bandmates?"

You hit his shoulder. "Shut up! He only knows about Sungchan and Anton."

"And we all know about Shotaro."

Your eyes rang. "Huh, how'd you know about that?"

"Do you think we're all deaf? No one moans that loud in the bathroom with seven other people in the house unless someone is helping them." Wonbin smirked at you and poked you with his elbow. "And, Shotaro came clean before you woke up. The guilt of breaking the promise ate him up, I suppose."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"Are you planning on going after Sohee next? Or me? We're the last two you haven't seduced." Wonbin's light-hearted smirk shifted sharply with an analyzing glare. "I don't know that game you're playing, but I think I'm starting to figure you out."

"Wonnie, I don't have a game anymore... It was funny at first, but things just spiraled. I don't know if I can keep it up anymore." You sighed heavier as you leaned your head on Wonbin's shoulder.

He pulled you closer, shifting so you could lay your body on his. "I don't think Sohee hates you or anything. I think he's nervous for his turn with you."

"Why would he be nervous–it's not like I want to hurt him."

Wonbin looked around, checking to see the bathroom door still shut. "Don't tell him I told you. Sohee's still a virgin, he's nervous about his first time–not just because it's you, but he's never been with someone else."

You buried your head in Wonbin's chest. "How can I do it now!? I can't do that to him... His first time should be with someone he cares about, something special. Not something I trick him into..."

"Well, you can't really back out. He's expecting you to approach him now. He told all of us after Shotaro spilled the news."

"How can I approach him? The cover is that he has to make me. He's too sweet to do that."

Wonbin shrugged. "That's not really my problem. You're the one he's nervous about. So, find a way to make him comfortable or something." He rubbed your head softly. "Or, you can skip him–probably break his kind heart, and fuck me."

You turned over to look at him. "I didn't think you'd be so excited to have sex with me."

"I feel like I'm owed for keeping all this a secret, plus helping you with Sohee. And it's only right I get a turn if everyone else does. I deserve you most, don't you think?" Wonbin's playful smirk came back. He loved to tease you, pulling you by your waist to make you blush; moaning in your ear, making you brush his hair, even grabbing your ass when he passed. If anyone in Riize felt like your boyfriend, it was him. Maybe that's why you were always so open with him.

"Well, regardless if you think you deserve me, I'm getting Sohee first. I'd cry if I made him sad..." You heard the bathroom door open. "I've gotta go, keep the others busy?"

"We already promised Sohee we'd stay out of his way."

"Since when did you guys have so many secret conversations without me?"

Wonbin pushed you off him, urging you toward Sohee's room. "Since you started fucking us. Now, go get him."

You awkwardly walked toward Sohee's bedroom, looking back into the living room. The others were watching you as you walked away. They were waiting for you to leap on Sohee... All of them knew you were faking the hypnosis now, so it made sense they'd be cautious of you, but your skin burned under their watch.

Sohee's door was closed. You knocked on it, breathing in sharply. "Sohee? Can we chat for a minute?"

"Y-Y/n!? Um–Give me a second!" Sohee replied nervously as you heard things being thrown around the room. You waited patiently at the door, still looking over your shoulder every few seconds to see if any members were trying to watch from around the corner. No one was there. After a minute passed, Sohee's door opened slowly. The room was dimly lit, with the curtains swallowing all the sunlight from the window. "Come in, please," Sohee's smile was a cover to hide his nervousness. You entered the room and Sohee closed the door behind you, the lock faintly clicking. He sat on one end of his bed while you sat on the other. "So... what did you want to talk about?"

The light in the room shined in his eyes as he looked at you, his face focused and careful.

"I wanted to talk about... you."

"Me?"

You tried to think of something clever, but with him looking at you so close you couldn't. "Wonbin told me that you wanted to speak to me about something, but you were feeling really nervous about it. I want you to know you can tell me anything. Anything."

Sohee swallowed hard. "I do have something... a confession really." He shifted closer toward you until your knees were touching. "We've been keeping a secret from you, and I don't think I can keep it any longer." He got closer, placing his hand on your thigh. "The others have been having sex with you while you've been hypnotized. Then we all lied about it to you and I feel horrible..."

You cracked a smile. "Sohee. I've got a secret too... I'm not hypnotized anymore. I've been aware of everyone's intention to take advantage of me from the beginning and made a plan to get back at everyone."

Sohee's shoulders slumped as their burden was relieved. "So, you knew? And let me think I was holding such a big secret."

"One by one, the others found out after I told them. They've been keeping the secret for me so I can punish you all."

"That means I'm next, right?" Sohee's eyes shimmered expectantly.

"I–I don't know. I thought it was a punishment, but now it feels like I'm taking advantage of you guys in return. I don't know what they told you, but Wonbin told me... That you haven't been with someone... Sexually."

Sohee's ears turned pink. "Y-Yeah, I haven't had sex before. But if it's with you, I'm okay with that."

"You should have sex with people you want to have it with. Not some trick, Sohee. What I did was a bad thing."

"Well, you're not tricking me right now! We're both being honest, consenting adults. So we can still do it, right?"

"Sohee–" You were cut off by Sohee planting a kiss on your lips, his eyes closed as his hands tightened their grip on the fabric of your pants. His breath was cool and tasted like he'd eaten a handful of mints. His lips were soft and gentle, but also stiff and unmoving. He really wanted you, more than he could put into words. You placed his hand on your neck, showing him how to hold you. Sohee's moans emerged immediately as you deepened the kiss, pushing past his lips. His body tensed, so you massaged his shoulders until he could relax. He moaned into the kiss, opening his mouth more as you sucked on his tongue.

You pulled away from this kiss after a few moments. "Now you try."

Letting Sohee lead, you pulled you in for another kiss. He confidently pushed past your lips, sucking on your tongue as you offered it to him. You moaned into it, which made his brain glitch as he pulled away.

"Sorry! I–"

"That was a good sound. You want me to do that, and I want to hear you too, Sohee."

"C-Can I ask for something?" You looked at him, it was taking all his courage to ask. You nodded, allowing him to speak. "Can you call me something else? Sohee is my name, but I want something special."

"Something like, Baby?" You watched Sohee deflate a little. He must not like that one. "Or Love?"

"Love sounds amazing," He said breathlessly.

"For you, Love. I'll call you whatever you like." You climbed onto him, straddling him, his hands were stuck to the bed while he watched you. "It's okay, you can touch me." You slide your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. You pulled on his shirt. "Can we lose this?" Sohee raised his arms as you pulled it over his head. You let your hands slide over his torso, leaning forward and encouraging him to do the same to you. He was awkward, but his hands eventually found their favorite place on your waist. "Ready for the next part?"

He nodded.

"Words, Love."

"I'm ready, Sweetness." Sohee smiled at you.

You tried to keep face, but your heart skipped a few beats as his name for you. "You know that doesn't work anymore, right?"

"Sorry, I think it fits you. I hope it doesn't bother you."

You got off the bed and slowly stripped your pants off, watching Sohee's face. He didn't know where to look, trying not to look at your bugle but also not wanting to look at your face. "You can look at me. We're both getting undressed, remember?"

Sohee nodded. "That's why it's dark... I'm a little shy."

You wanted to bite him for being so cute. He was so self-conscious that he'd rather have his first time in the dark so he doesn't have to acknowledge his own body... You knew this had to be perfect for him. You tossed your underwear aside, standing naked in front of Sohee. He was in awe–he wasn't moving, just watching you... Which was starting to get embarrassing.

"You should get undressed too, I don't want to stand here alone..." Sohee scrambled to his feet, trying to get out of his pants. "Wait–be slow about it." You got close to him, getting on your knees. "Like this," You whisper as you slowly slide his pants down his legs, helping him step out of them. You were about to slide off his underwear before you looked up at him. "We can stop at any time, Sohee. Just say something."

"I understand. Let's keep going."

You nodded as you slid his underwear, letting his hard cock point up at you. It was probably the shortest of all the members but it was thick. It was hard and red, and his tip was swollen and throbbing. It was begging for you to touch it, leaking precum in a steady stream. You took it in hand. "That so thick, Love. I think I might have trouble putting it in my mouth..."

"S-Sorry," Sohee moaned as he leaned against the bed for stability.

"It's nothing to be sorry about, it's beautiful. Cute, just like you." You kissed his tip, earning a loud moan from him. His ears turned red as he covered his mouth.

"S-Sorry..."

"Love, if you apologize every time I do something, this will be hard for you..."

"Right. So–I mean, okay."

"Sit if you're not comfortable." Sohee listened obediently, sitting on the bed with his legs spread as he watched you. You focused on his cock again, it throbbed in your hands and radiated heat. His balls were heavy and thick. Did he not ever jerk off? You moved your hands slowly, up and down as you felt around for his sensitive spots. Sohee's knees shook as he moaned into his hand. You could tell he couldn't last as long as the others, from the way his moans were so breathless–he was in bliss. "Want more?"

"So bad, please." Sohee's eyes closed as his head fell back.

"Call me that name again."

Sohee looked at you. "Sweetness?"

"Now, tell me what you want." You smiled, assuring it was okay.

"Please... Put it in your mouth, Sweetness..." Sohee mumbled, embarrassed of the words leaving his lips.

You smiled. "Of course, Love. Anything for you." You opened wide as you put his tip in your mouth. You were right. It’ll be tough to hold it all in your mouth but for him, you'd do it. Sohee's moans went high-pitched, sounding rapidly as you bobbed your head on him. His knee couldn't' stop bouncing, his hips gently bucked, and his hands found your head. To your surprise, Sohee massaged your ears gently as you sucked him off. No one had ever touched your ears, but it was even more of a turn-on. You had to close your eyes and take a breath before pushing deep. His cock stretched your throat as it pulsed.

"Oh! Woah, Y/n, I–I'm gonna–" Sohee tried to put the words together, but it was too late. He came down your throat with a loud moan, his body twitching as his fingers massaged you faster. He was trying not to hurt you, but as you sucked him through his climax you felt his hips lift slightly–forcing you to take more.

You slowly pulled off his cock, swallowing anything left in your mouth before finally breathing again. It was hot–Sohee's cum, you could feel it making its way down your throat. Warning your insides.

"I didn't mean to," Sohee paused to breathe. "I didn't mean to cum so soon. We didn't even go that far..."

You chuckled. "Did you want more?"

Sohee nodded.

"What a greedy one, aren't you, Love?" You pushed Sohee on his back as you straddled his hips.

"I'm sorry for being greedy... But I want to be inside you, so bad, y/n."

You looked at Sohee under you, he was a mess. His lips parted, shaking whimpers falling from them, and his cock twitched–ready for more. "I want you in me too," You whispered as you lifted your hips, lining his cock with your hole. Slowly, you sank down onto Sohee's dick, earning whines and moans from the other. You felt him pushing inside you, his thickness stretched you more as each inch passed deeper into you. Once you had him inside you completely, he took a few moments, breathing heavily as you adjusted to his size. Sohee was shaking from overstimulation, and his eyes rolled back. "Are you still with me, Love?"

Your voice snapped Sohee back. "Y-Yes! I'm h-here, I'll be here till you're satisfied. Please–use me how you like..." Sohee could barely get through his sentences, moaning every other word as he felt your walls tighten around him. Sohee was in another world. He couldn't have imagined how you'd feel around him, but it was so warm and every twitch made him want to bust.

"Sohee," You moaned his name, in a tone that gnawed at the rope of sanity that Sohee was trying to hold onto. "You're so big... I need your help." Placing his hands on your hips, Sohee gripped you tightly as you started listing yourself. Once high enough, you'd sink back down and stuff yourself full of cock again. Sohee's eyes watered as a few tears streaked down his face, his voice was hoarse from the nonstop moaning. You drank up every second of it as you enjoyed riding him. You went faster and harder, making Sohee's moans louder and higher–borderline screaming.

"I–" Sohee had to swallow hard, "I'm gonna fucking cum!" Sohee usually tried not to swear, there was never a reason to do it. But your fucking him was more than enough to make him let loose every sweat he knew. "Fucking, shit! You're so tight, I can't stop, fuck! You feel so good..."

You grind your hips into him, pushing his cock deeper. "Cum for me, Love. All inside me!"

That was enough to push him over the edge. His hips found new strength as he pushed up, lifting you slightly and holding you there. His cock plunged deeper than before as he came for the second time, his moan on his lips was your name as he shot into you. "Fuck! Fuck! Fu–I'm sorry... I'm sorry, y/n... I can't do it anymore," Sohee hiccuped as his eyes streamed with tears. His convulsions were intense, making his cock shift inside you which made his convulse again. He was stuck in a shaking cycle until you kissed him, stroking his cheek as you calmed him down.

"You did so good, Sohee. I'm so proud," You cooed in his ear.

Sohee twitched, softer now. "T-Thank you... I'm sorry–I couldn't make you cum..." Even after having sensory overload from two intense orgasms, he still cared about you. How sweet.

You gently lifted yourself off him, trying not to make it worse for him. But Sohee stopped you. "Fuck!" Sohee's grip on your hips tightened and he slammed you back down onto him. Maybe it was luck, but he hit your spot–dead center. You came all over Sohee's chest, cum even shooting onto his face. Your head rolled back as your orgasm ripped through you, your walls tightening which made Sohee whine again. "I'm sorry! Sorry–Please don't leave. It's so sensitive, can we just... lay here? For a little?"

You nodded, your jaw too tight to speak. You laid on his chest as you stroked his hair, letting him drift to sleep... Once it was clear you could move, you climbed off of him–even while sleeping Sohee didn't want to let you go. You found your clothes, tucked Sohee into his bed, and opened the door to leave his room.

Wonbin was waiting for you at the door. "You done?"

You nodded.

"Good. Come out here," Wonbin ordered as he grabbed your wrist, dragging you with him.

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soleilnewspaper · 11 days

Text

Just maybe

Series masterlist

Summary: Sirius, Remus and you take the time to talk things over up in the astronomy tower. You agree to give things a chance. However, you find it difficult to find your place in an already existing relationship. Meanwhile, Regulus tries to come to turn with things.

Pairing: poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

Warnings: early stages of a throuple, light teasing, swearing, mentions of feeling insecure of place in relationship, rifts in friendship, angst with comfort.

Word count: 3.7k

AN: Sooo this may or may not be turning into a series. Organically this was meant to be the last part, but because it’s close to 5k, I split it into two. Alas, we have the third part. Hopefully you enjoy it. Please make sure to like, reblog, comment and follow if you do. Thank you lovelies.

The first time you ever spoke to Sirius Orion Black seams like a lifetime ago. If you had to pinpoint the exact moment, it would have been the summer before your third year began. Regulus invited you over to spend a weekend at their house.

Granted you had seen Sirius in passing multiple times over the years. Not solely at Hogwarts but at the countless times you had been forced to attend a Pureblood High Society event. You’d know both brothers since before you could talk. Yet, a part of you felt you didn’t know them at all.

You would not meet Remus John Lupin until you began your first year at Hogwarts. It seams silly, really, to remember something so vividly.

Platform 9 and 3/4 was not difficult to find with your family urging you along. A kiss on your check from your mother, one which held no real affection was the last thing she gave you before shipping you off. Whilst your father barely offered you any attention. To them beinging Hogwarts was no greater achievement than being born. It meant nothing to them. Therefore, you had to stop yourself from letting them see you cry.

Sure, they weren’t the warmest of families, but they were still yours and all you wanted was some sense that they’d miss you. Of course, you were deprived of that feeling.

You remained strong all the way through your walk to the train. Fear had creeped through your spine every second that passed. Finally, it consumed you when you were alone in an empty compartment. That’s when Remus found you.

He was no more than elven years old, having a similar but very different fear to you about starting Hogwarts. A chocolate bar was offered to you, which you took but then left the compartment to go find your sister. Later three boys found Remus who would unknowingly become the greatest friends he would ever have.

Throughout your years at Hogwarts you had little to no interactions with them both. Yet that didn’t stop you falling in love with them. You had thought you could keep it under wraps.

Sirius thought of you as nothing more than one of his brother’s friends. A Slytherin pureblood. So you let him believe that. You let him begin to hate you. In turn you began to hate him. It was easier this way, that’s what you had told yourself every time your heart threatened to betray you.

Remus was harder to ignore. He saw through the walls you put up. Even if it was only through glances and the occasional smile in the library or halls. He made no effort to befriend you which you had thanked Salazar for almost every day.

Few noticed your affection that you so dearly had for the boys. Your friends for one had teased you on occasion but nothing ever came from it. Pandora would try to get you to open up but her efforts fell short.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find enjoyment in learning things about them. From a far of course. The way Sirius wore cologne that was so strong it overtook all your senses. Or how sometime around third year he started to get a wet dog fur smell for some odd reason. It didn’t take you long to figure out he had become an animagus. The boys were hardly subtle. Besides Regulus, Pandora and you had joked about going through the process yourselves already. To which you did later on.

The library was Remus’s favourite place and it had secretly become yours because of the few times where he’d offer to get a book off a high shelf for you. You hated how he towered over you. To be fair he towered over everyone.

Through it all, you had thought your feelings were in vain. The word delusional was thrown around more often than once.

Never did you think that Amortentia would be the cause of your feelings finally being revealed. A whole month had passed since that moment and you had hoped and prayed that word hadn’t reached your parents. The thought was irrational in truth, as there was no chance anyone was going to gossip to your parents. Alright, maybe it wasn’t completely irrational. Purebloods did love to talk. If a single person blabbered to their parents you knew it would’t be front paper news or anything. But the thought still scared you nonetheless.

As much as you held affections for the two, you knew your parents would not be pleased. A blood traitor and a half-blood broke. You could practically hear your mother’s voice inside your head when Remus had asked you to be their third.

“Ok.” You managed to chock out, barely.

Whilst Remus was staring at you with his beautiful honey eyes which appeared golden with the sun shining down on him. Sirius seamed still, to still, almost as if he feared if he moved this would all go away. Crashing down on him. He was as scared as you were, you realised. You two were more alike than you had originally thought. Both of you had made each other hate in order to avoid your attraction towards each other. Remus was scared too, you knew that, but he was trying to be calm to keep you both from going haywire. You appreciated that more than he would ever know.

Despite every reason not to, you had said yes. It was if your heart had taken over your mind and you hadn’t even fully comprehend the words before they were serging out of your mouth.

“How will-dose-this work?” You corrected yourself mid sentence, clutching onto the straps of your book bag.

“Er, hmm, maybe we should find somewhere more private to talk about this all.” Remus suggested gently.

“I think I’d like that.” You replied.

“Probably for the best.” Sirius tuned in avoiding eye contact with you both.

“Right, then, guess our dorms are out of the question. Considering…” Remus eyes wondered to your green tie and back to their red ones.

“I know a place.” You smiled turning on your heel with both boys following you.

The ‘place’ had happened to be the astronomy tower. It was your friends and your favourite spot in Hogwarts. The marauders had the Shrieking Shack, the black lake and every secret corridor in Hogwarts. But this, this was your spot.

Yours, Regulus’, Pandora, Barty and Evan’s that is. All of you had chosen spots up here too, evident by the blankets and pillows hidden underneath old equipment in a corner. Which you had put an enchantment on to keep your things safe. One Pandora had made herself, completely original. You and Barty were the ones who brought everything up here. Regulus was the one who suggested it. Evan had just gone with the flow, but you all knew he loved it just as much.

It felt almost wrong to have Sirius and Remus up here. The Astronomy tower was a public place, every person in Hogwarts had access. Yet in your mind it was still your special place, and you felt as if you were betraying your friends by bringing them up here.

You knew you were betraying Regulus in some way. The same way James felt he was betraying Sirius with Regulus. Although that was a topic for another time.

Remus leaned against the railing, and pulled his sandy brown waves of hair out of his face. The sleeves of his sweater over his school shirt tattered from use.

It felt like an eternity had passed since one of you had last spoke. In reality it was as much closer to a few minutes, fifteen if you had to guess.

Sirius’s eyes had never left yours in all that time, until now that is. He remained his distance from you as you did to him. Still trying to wrap your head around all this.

“So, exactly, how does this work?” You started, voice far higher pitched than you’d have liked.

“I suppose it’s like any other relationship, just with three people instead of two.” Remus smiled and you were happy that the smile reached to his eyes, telling you it was genuine.

“S’m not complicated at all.” Sirius joked.

“Definitely not.” You responded shaking your head in faux seriousness.

“We all agree to be in a romantic relationship with all parties consenting.” Remus spoke gently, nodding his head slightly. His elbows leaned on the railing.

“Surely there needs to be rules to this.” You stated completely baffled that you were even allowing yourself to entertain this idea.

“You really know how to take the fun out of things, don’t ye, dollface?” Sirius smirked and you wanted to be annoyed truly but you couldn’t find any reason to be.

“Structure is what makes things work, Black.” You snickered in response but your voice showed no signs of being upset.

“You’d know, would’t ya?”

“Merlin, you’re both bloody children.” Remus sighed softly.

“Sod off, Moons.” Sirius replied and Remus rolled his eyes.

A laugh escaped your lips at their interaction, you loved watching them together. Perphas if this worked out you’d be to do that more often.

“I propose we agree to open and honest communication with each other. If we are to go through with this.” If you were to continue to entertain this idea for yourself, you wanted to at least do it right.

“Well I for one.” Sirius stated, pointing a finger at himself. “Would be chuffed to get to know you outside of a ball or Hogwarts hallway.”

“Chuffed you say?” It was your turn to smirk.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t in fact hate you.”

“Good, because I don’t either.” You smiled before stumbling over your words. “Hate you I mean-I don’t hate you either.”

“I know what you meant, love.” You blushed at the use of the pet name.

“I’d also love to get to know you before we jump into anything.” Remus chimed in.

“So, we agree, to take things slow.” You nodded looking to both boys before continuing. “And let things develop naturally.”

Remus’s eyes met yours and you swear you felt safer than ever before. Before you knew, Remus was taking steps towards you. Reaching for your hand.

“Would it be alright if I gave you a hug?” Remus’s voice was full of affection and your heart warmed and the thought.

After receiving consent from you in the form of a head nod, you felt his arms around your torso. Initially, the hug felt awkward but as time passed the two of you found your rhythm and eased into it. Allowing yourself to melt into his chest. The warmth was only further advanced by Sirius joining in. Remus made steps to allow him to join in. You became sandwiched in between the two of them.

You knew this would not he easy in the slightest but you had hope for the future. Maybe, just maybe, this might work.

The ‘honeymoon’ phase of your relationship had passed and it had been weeks of intense emotional intimacy.

No one said polyamory would be easy, nor did anyone bother to tell you how hard it would be.

Being the last person to join a polygamous relationship meant you weren’t apart of the already established rhythm. Which did not account for you. In your mind, you would always be second best. Before you had come along, Remus and Sirius were perfectly happy. You only served as a disruption to their happiness. If not for the Amortentia you wouldn’t even be in this relationship in the first place.

Remus and Sirius had history, their relationship had been years in the making. From the beginning it had been like that. They met before they met you. Their friends were the same people. The sorting hat had sorted both of them into gryffidor, and they just do happened to share a dorm for almost six years now.

Their relationship had taken them from friendship to romance, with trials of pain and suffering within. How could you ever compete with that?

Both of them shared common interests, and despite you trying to find a connection with them it always felt like you were being overshadowed. It wasn’t the boys fault at all. You refused to blame any of this on anyone but you. But it’s not like you could back now. Not when you took such a risk to be in this relationship. Years of pining after them and they had asked you to join their relationship.

You were sure your relationship wouldn’t last much longer, the day would come when they realised their mistake. Yet you made no effort to make any change, because you were far too afraid.

The great hall felt smaller than usual, as if the walls were closing in on you. You tried to shrug the feeling off as your brown babydoll shoes presented against the stone brick floors. A smile found its way to your face when you spotted your two boyfriends sat around a Gryffidor table with their friends.

That’s another thing, their friends. You could tell they were all extremely close. Knowing that before you entered the relationship but it didn’t make it any easier when hanging out with them. Especially since they were always together. Wherever James and Peter were, Sirius and Remus like clockwork. There was no escaping it.

James sat across from Peter dressed in his red and gold Qudditch uniform for today’s game. He was working his ass off to try Qudditch Captain for next year. Lily Evans, beautiful as ever sat next to the boy. Her trio of friends surrounded her; Marlene, Mary and Alice who was joined by her boyfriend Frank.

As per usual, Sirius dressed in his beater gear was situated on the left of James with Peter on the far right. Every so often Remus would offer his own comments to the conversation.

His honey brown eyes met your own and he waved you over. Remus scooted over in order to allow you to sit in between him and Sirius. You offered a smile of gratitude as sat down. Quickly, Remus’s hands found yours and you began playing with his fingers.

Remus looked far from his usual self. Large dark circles had taken up residence under his eyes, which appeared tired. The tone in his voice held a hint of pain if you listened closely enough. This had became a monthly occurrence. Days before he would supposedly fall spontaneously ill or urgently need to visit his ma. Around this time, the boys would also start fessing up excuses for their sudden absences. Lily didn’t seam to be worried by it at all, she knew something you didn’t. Which you had spun to that James and as an extension Remus and Sirius clearly trusted his girlfriend more than your boyfriend’s trusted you.

“How’d ye sleep, dove?” Remus asked gently, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You only hmm in response.

“You alright, dollface?” Sirius asked turning to face you.

“Just tired is all, studying and all that.” You nodded, hoping it would enough to keep the two boys from being suspicious.

Your plan worked for the most part as Sirius returned to his conversation with James and Peter. Most days, Remus or Sirius would force you to tell them what was going on, but not when it was this close to the full moon. Both of them were far too worried about the upcoming full moon.

It had been years since Remus had felt like this. The vague excuses felt all too familiar to the time before the boys knew of his condition. Besides his parents, Dumbledor, Madam Prompery, and the marauders only Lily knew of his secret. No one had told her, she had just simply figured it out and waited until Remus told her himself.

You on the other hand had not figured it out, which was surprising to him given how observant you were. Granted you knew they were hiding something from you, just not what. Which Remus appreciated as he was dreading the day you learned the truth.

Ever since you had began dating, Remus had feared Sirius darkness would cause your breakup. If not that, then him being a werewolf definitely would. He wasn’t ready to lose you, nor was Sirius, they didn’t think they’d ever be ready for that.

“Hey, dove, you still with us?” Remus asked after James and Sirius had called your name multiple times.

“Hmm, sorry.”

“No need to apologise, love.” Sirius kissed the top of your head. “Jamie was just asking who you’re supporting at the game today.”

“More like we want to know who you’re betraying, your boyfriends or your house.” Marlene leaned in making you feel like all eyes were on you.

“Give her a break, McKinnon.” Sirius responded for you though his voice was full of amusement.

“I guess I’m just going have to wear green and red today.” You smiled earning a laugh from the group.

“That sounds perfect.” Remus wrapped his arm around you pulling you into his side.

“Actually, Y/N.” Lily draw your name out to ensure you were listening before continuing. “The girls and I were wondering if you wanted to sit with us for the game. Usually, Mary, Alice, Remus, and I all sit together while Marls, James, Peter and Sirius play.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, dove. We know you always sit with the Rosiers.” Remus said in reference to your usual seating arrangement.

Typically you would sit with Pandora and Evan while the three of you watched Barty and Regulus play. When Slytherin wasn’t playing, the five of you would sit together, though Barty never stayed in one spot for long. Although lately, Regulus was avoiding you. Despite how much you missed your friends and idea of sitting with Pandora and Evan you knew sitting with the Gryffidors might score you some points with your boys.

Qudditch the most notorious sport admired by all in the Wizardry World. House pride created a certain level of rivalry among Hogwarts. The game served as their primary theme for rivalry. Especially between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

Red and Green decorated the stands surrounding the pitch. The golden hoops were situated at either end of the pitch.

The excitement from students and teachers could hardly be contained. The sea of Gryffidor students made you stick out like a sore thumb with your green scarf. You had opted for a new look to try Incorapte your support for both houses. Slytherin robes adorned your figure, while a red ribbon tied your hair in a half up hairstyle. You wore a gold bracelet from your mother to honour the other house colours. All in support of your boyfriends. A term you were struggling to adjust to.

For most of the game you zoned out struggling to focus on the players. If someone were to ask you who was willing you’d certainly be unable to answer. Your thoughts clouded your mind leaving little room for anything else.

Quidditch was a rough game, that was no secret. Yet, seeing Sirius practically thrown across the field still earned a wince from you. Remus, though tired, assured you everything would be fine. As if you hadn’t watched a game before, you knew the risks but that didn’t stop you from worrying. Especially since you could tell Regulus was off his game and you weren’t there in the stands to cheer him on like usual. No, you were there to support his brother. It made you sick to your stomach just thinking about it. Granted it could all just be in your head.

“Dove?” Remus’s voice instantly brought you back to the present moment.

Once it did you realised that the game was over. Lily had already left her seat to go check on James, with Mary close behind making a beeline for Marlene. Your eyes wondered to the field before you. The Gryffidor team were celebrating their victory already. James ran to Lily as soon as he spotted her in the crowd. You watched as Marlene lips found her girlfriend’s who giggled in response through the kiss. Sirius and Peter were chatting about something, most likely the game from what you could tell from lip reading.

“Imma go find Sirius, you want to come with?” Remus asked gently, though you could hear how tired he was in his voice.

“I’ll come by for the after party, I think I want to go see my friends for a bit. If that’s alright.” You replied rubbing your hands together to combat the cold.

“S’course love.” Remus kissed your forehead before leaving you to go join your shared boyfriend.

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you began to walk to the Slytherin house stands. Anxiety creeping through your body as you did.

Pandora was the first to notice you, welcoming you with a simple smile. Her twin brother standing in his Qudditch gear next to her with his boyfriend. Barty who was not taking their loss well. Leaving Evan to try calm him down from the methodical ledge he had climbed onto.

“Treasure, thank god you have returned.” Junior ran over to you placing his hands on both your sides. You had missed him, you missed all of them.

“Salvar you’re still in one piece.” Barty sighed dramatically causing Evan to pull him off you gently.

“They’re not that bad.” You stated with a low voice causing Barty to scoff.

“Speak for yourself.”

Your friends hadn’t taken well to your new relationship. Barty didn’t like the fact that your boyfriends happened to be Gryffidor’s but he was still happy for you. As long as they didn’t hog you all the time. Evan had remained silent on the matter but you knew he wasn’t completely fond of it, though he wasn’t treating you any differently. You were still one of his closest friends after all. Pandora, on the other hand, had welcomed your relationship with open arms, happy to see you not pinning anymore.

“You guys will do better next time.” Pandora spoke softy looking to both Barty and Evan.

“S’m only if I have my lucky charm.” Barty said dramatically throwing his arm around you. “Can’t believe you sat with the lions.”

“Where is Regulus?” You asked feeling the absence of your friend. The rosier twins exchanged a look with Barty which told you all you needed to know. Regulus did not want to talk to you.

Most days, you would let it slide. Today, was not most days. You were already feeling insecure and out of place in your relationship. Then there was the fact that your boyfriends and their friends were clearly hiding something from you. Therefore, you did not have the capacity to let one of your closest friends avoid you like the plague. You weren’t going to let all your relationships fall apart, and you knew Regulus wouldn’t talk unless provoked.

Which is exactly what lead you to march down to the Quidditch locker rooms. You peered in through to look for your black haired friend.

Sliver eyes that matched your boyfriend’s met yours. Regulus scoffed upon seeing you and tried to retreat.

“Regulus Arcturus Black.” You use of his full name indicted you were not willing to negotiate here.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/LN.” He responded in the same tone you had used on him.

“You cannot keep avoiding me.”

“I would rather not have this conversation.” Regulus ran a hair through his dark locks avoiding your glaze.

“Too bad, it’s happening.” You held your ground.

Regulus groaned and rubbed his hands roughly across his face a few times before looking at you. You noticed that his eyes had an unfamiliar look to them, he missed you too.

“What possible reason could I have for talking to you.” Regulus cold tone sent shivers down your spine. His body retreated out of the locker room with you hot on his tail. You followed him all the way to the dungeons and into the Slytherin common room.

Students were still out on the pitch so the two of you were alone. The only sound besides your breathing was the roaring fire and sirens from the black lake.

“Let it go, Y/N.” Regulus called out to you as he walked across to allow his body to fall limp on one of the green leather chairs.

“No, I won’t not until you tell me why you refuse to talk to me.”

“Might I kindly request that you abandon this conversation?” Regulus pleaded with you. The way his eyes looked into your soul almost broke your spirt right then and there.

“I cannot oblige your request.” If he was going to use formal cold pureblood tone, then so would you.

“I asked only one thing of you, and you couldn’t grant me that, could you?” Regulus breathed out, standing up from his chair and making steps towards you.

“What are you talking about, Reg?”

Taglist: @maraudersforlife2005 @xlxnq

#fanfic #marauders #regulus black #sirius x lupin #remus x sirius #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius and regulus #remus x you #remus x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin #poly!wolfstar x you #poly!wolfstar fluff #poly wolfstar #poly!wolfstar x reader

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hxltic · 2 months

Note

Heya!

First of all, I just wanna say that your stories/writing skills are AMAZING, I’m absolutely obsessed with your page tbh <3

I do wanna request another Megumi smut fic, if that’s okay. Maybe one where the (fem) reader is pretty anxious about getting intimate, but he gently talks her through it iykwim

Thank you so much pretty, and it’s perfectly okay.

You’d been thinking about it all day. So much so, that as your feet patter on the square tile of the kitchen in your shared apartment, you realize that instead of retrieving the parmesan out of the fridge, you’re pacing back and forth.

But then, every aspect of intimacy throttles into what you thought was a confirmed decision. It then splits it apart, leaving you conflicted when you thought you were done contemplating it.

You were ready. You were more than ready.

What if your ph wasn’t balanced? What if it’s not everything you dreamed of? It’s been a while since you’d actually shaved, would that turn him off? Should you wear something different? Can you even be seductive without being unable to take yourself seriously?

You shake your head at the reeling mess of hypotheticals, somewhat hoping the action would disperse them so that they dissipate into the air. Forcing one foot in front of the other with a sigh, you go to the opposite side of the kitchen, and take a seat on the stool at the bar top after plating your dinner.

And then you’re maybe two bites in before the front door’s lock rattles, clicks, and twists to invite nobody other than your beloved boyfriend in, returning from errands.

He effortlessly carries three bags of groceries in one hand, unintentionally showcasing the rings wrapped around his fingers. The other holds another two bags. He shuffles into the house, closes the door, and greets you, raising the food up high enough to rest it along the granite.

“Hey, what’s up? You made dinner early?” He stocks the milk into the refrigerator.

With a final chew, you place the fork down and rest your chin in your hands. “Yeah, I thought you told me to?”

He nods with a small curl of his lips, “I did. Told you to stop waiting up for me.”

You hum in response. It’s pretty quiet after that, just you two in each other’s presence as a couple, until he’s done with his task and gets a plate of his own. Of course, he comes to sit right beside you, but not before moving your hair out of the way and providing a gentle kiss to the forehead first. You smile, but not as bright as you usually do. He inspects your distant expression.

“Are you okay?”

Your eyes find his. You can tell he’s trying to think of anything that could possibly be wrong—something he forgot, or something he did. It’s almost instinct for your heavy emotion to lift temporarily when anyone asks this question, giving you the appearance of an excited puppy. “Yeah, yeah! I’m good. Just,” you shrug, “thinking.”

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

You definitely have his full attention, but when he takes a bite of his dinner, he can’t help but comment on how good it is. Meanwhile, you’re slightly able to feel heat rising to your cheeks. “Uhm…I don’t know. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

By this point the smell of the food is rising into your nose from below, long forgotten as your fingers rub circles into your temple.

“Try. I’ll piece it together,” he reassures. You’ve been trying to work on your communication, as is he, but he’s usually succeeding far more at it than you are, you have to admit.

“Uhh, fuck. I’m…” It’s already difficult to convert thoughts into words, let alone thoughts like these. Oh yeah, Megumi, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me for a while now. It’s even harder when you can feel him staring dead at you with those tender eyes, just waiting patiently for an answer. “Ready to take our relationship— further?”

Your shoulders haunch up protectively when you turn your attention to him, whose eyebrows are furrowed a bit, attempting to comprehend what you just said. It then looks like it hits him, but he inquires anyway, “Further, how?”

You pout, “Are you going to make me say it, Megumi?”

The man wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly what you were asking for. But the culpability of being incorrect would make him feel like the worst person on the damned planet, and this would tell you that he was “hoping” you would say something about sex. He knows you. It implies that the topic was on his mind beforehand, ultimately enhancing the pressure since you then would know he was thinking about it.

But truth be told, he wasn’t. When you said you wanted to take it slow, he was completely okay with that. Of course—there’s no denying the amplification of his hormones when you’re fresh out of the shower, walking around braless in a large tee, shorts, and wet hair—but it was never enough to push you into something you weren’t ready for. It would never be. All he had to do was take a shower, whether extra long or cold.

“Are you sure? You do understand that, no matter what, you come before your body, right?”

“Of course. You’ve always made me feel safe, and I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t done the thinking. I’m just nervous, I guess? I want it to be good for you, but I haven’t really done this before.”

“I guarantee you, there literally isn’t anything you could do that would make it a bad experience for me.” His smile spreads a grin to your features, lifting your mood a little. “And you don’t have to be nervous— I’ll be there with you the whole time. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

“Finish your food. I know you’ve had a long day and you need energy for the scandalous acts you’ve committed to,” he adds. You giggle at the joke, suddenly feeling lightweight from the anchor that he’d single-handedly lifted off you.

Only to leave as quickly as it came because that meant you had to get ready for tonight.

——•——

After taking one more shower before he took his, you’re already in bed after dinner, curled up watching the light from the tv fill the room every time you change the channel. The smell of strawberries and coconut bounces off you, probably now into the fibers of the bed, and you’re as smooth as a baby. Everywhere.

The door to the bedroom suddenly opens, revealing Megumi with a towel draped low around his waist, hair fallen, dripping all over the carpet, and cut abdomen a distraction from whatever show you had playing.

The best part about having had that conversation is that you don’t have to conceal your feelings or the throb between your legs anymore. There’s no guilt from knowing the two of you will only get to kissing, desperately trying to find some friction.

Megumi leisurely walks over to the closet, entertained by your low eyes trained to him like a moth to a flame. You don’t even notice his amused gaze. “Can I help you with something?” He teases, eyebrows dipping into a smirk.

Your eyes finally shoot up, but you can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed. “Maybe.”

He chuckles, opening a drawer to grab some sweats. “We just talked, like, an hour and a half ago, and you’re already about to pounce on me.”

“Oh please— tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

You carelessly throw the remote down. Megumi disappears, then reappears, pants on and ruffling the towel to dry his hair. When he finishes, he comes to his side of the bed, pinches your chin delicately, and tilts it up to him. His voice was lower, and velvety sweet. He knew he could ask you to do anything if he spoke like this.

“You know I do.”

The ravenette allows you to kiss him softly, but he keeps it short. It’s just enough for a huff to leave your mouth when he pulls away. “We don’t have to do this tonight. There’s no deadline for me to be inside of you,” he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip.

You’d think he was talking about taxes with how casually he said it. Now that was what embarrassed you. “Right. Yeah.”

You force a smile to your face and turn away, going back to the tv, trying your best to ignore the growing heat in your stomach and the sudden disappointment of your work going to waste.

He observes that you don’t actually look satisfied, and was instead shuffling and moving awkwardly. To be fair, he knew what it looked like when you were horny.

“Unless, of course, it was what you really wanted.”

Then you look to him, and when he slowly pans back at you, knowing you took the bait, he immediately understands the severity of how you feel by the undercurrent of desperation in your eyes. You seemed to need him. His eyes slightly widen.

You didn’t just randomly want to have sex with him; it had been growing over time. Every kiss, lick, and touch began to lose its fervor when you’d already known the outcome— when it would stop. You’d just finally been able to vocalize it.

“Come here,” he opens his arms up to you. The bed bounces when you throw the covers off and crawl to him, resting atop his lap and clearing his view to the tv. He didn’t mind; he has a better one.

The friction you get from his legs, pathetically, has you shifting before getting fully situated. His hands come to rest in the dip of your hips to keep you still. But he knows.

“You understand that I love you...”

It was said declaratively, like he was sure, but just in case he was wrong, you could speak up. His eyes carried a kindness to them and his cushiony voice melted your brain. “I do.”

“And you understand what you truly want? You’re sure I’m who you want to be your first?”

You nod. “And hopefully my last.”

“Then I want you to know that anything after this,” he waves his hand in a circling motion, “You are in complete control of. Tell me to wait, I will. Tell me to stop, and I’m sure as hell pulling out, taking my hands off you, whatever, all in an instant. And don’t feel bad about anything you say to me. Ever.”

Soaking in the lecture, being unable to ignore as if they were terms and conditions, makes you fathom how serious this is. He’s speaking earnestly because you did before, hence when you begged to take it slow the day you started dating (he confirmed he didn’t mind, but you truthfully didn’t believe him as per past relationships). In this heart to heart, you looked into his dark blue eyes, wondering how you managed to find someone like him that would wait a million years for your trust.

“Okay. Likewise, I want you to teach me. That way in the future I can be better at what you like.”

A finger comes to brush a tendril of hair behind your ear as you mindlessly fiddle with your thumbs. “You are what I like, beautiful.”

And then you can’t resist feeling the sight in front of you, the same one the pads of your fingers have memorized from repetition, so with a featherlight touch, your hands separate and design delicate swirls into his v-line, trailing only up to about his belly button.

You love seeing his muscles contract when he twitches since everything he does seems to send a shiver down your spine.

Widening your fingers as they rise, they stretch the span of his chest. There’s a low hum when you make sure to lightly drag your nails across his skin, reminding you to shift your focus to his expression. He was already staring at you through his eyelashes.

Your lips find his in the slowest, most sultry manner you can control. Both hands card through his semi-damp locks, quickening his breath alone, while his take rest at the band of your sleep shorts. And just when you think he’s going to slip his fingers through the silk, he grabs you with a firm grip and rolls over so your back is to the sheets, leaving you still pawing at his nape.

The experience increases in heat as it does speed. You were smothered with his presence but you wouldn’t have it any other way. He connects your lips one last time before he parts to share his kisses on other spots of your body, including your jaw, collarbone, and once he gets the thin shirt you’re wearing off— your chest.

And he does just that, peeking up at you first for confirmation you two share the same idea. You answer by lifting and helping him tug it off.

You reach your hands up past your ribs to the swell of your breasts, massaging them, unable to look him in the eye.

“Look at me.”

Well fuck.

You do, and just then he’s placing his free hand over yours, ultimately pilfering its spot entirely, and taking his time to lick around the bud, swirling it into his mouth. It’s his first time hearing the whine that came out of you. He will hear it again.

He does the other the same, hardening the peaks only to leave them be with a conclusive squeeze. “Do you like that?”

You manage, “Yes.”

He kisses down your stomach, leaving a hum in response, and drags his fingers down even further to ghost over the fabric of your panties. “Lace?”

“Yeah, for you.” You shiver at his touch.

His thumb circles over your clit as his chin tips down to shift his eyes around the garment. “How long have you been planning this?”

“It started last week.” Your chest rises and falls when you giggle, it ultimately dissolving into a breathy moan once he applies a deeper pressure. “I took a trip to the mall.”

There’s no response. His hand draws up to the sides of your waist, pausing to give you more slow, endearing kisses along the band.

“I wore it so you could take it off, Megumi.”

“Great.”

And just like that, he’s sliding it off you, down your thighs and throwing them elsewhere behind him. “Can you open up for me?” He coos.

There’s a coil beginning in your tummy, and you aren’t exactly sure if it’s because you’re already throbbing or if the embarrassment is just now settling in. No matter what, you just want him to do something. You spread them.

He groans at the sight of you. Bare.

“Fuck, you’re something else.”

With some hint of friction to stabilize himself, he shifts his hips against the bed, then he dips his head into your center.

You’ve thought about what it would feel like when he “eats you out.” Would it feel slimy and trigger your sensory issues? Would you squirm in disgust or ecstasy? Would it feel like anything?

And now, you finally have an answer, because after the swipe of his tongue on your inner thigh, there’s a warmth you associate with the muscle of his tongue dragging between your lips. Involuntarily, you do begin to squirm.

He does it again, sealing his mouth over you. The unpredictability of where you will feel him next is thrilling despite being now sat up lazily on your elbows.

There’s no doubt it’s making you feel something and it’s starting to gather. So much in fact that the sight of his angled nose and eyebrows between your legs may be too much to handle. You don’t render it as pleasure quite yet though.

“That feels kinda weird,” you mumble honestly. The rumble of his chuckle surges through your stomach as he pulls his face away for only a moment.

“Here,” he utters, and you’re expecting him to do something to help when he shuffles, but suddenly, a single finger prods at your wetness until it’s sinking seamlessly. “This is something you’re familiar with, right?”

Immediately, a gasp forces itself out. You’d done it yourself before so he wasn’t wrong, but when it’s him toying with you and his long finger, it’s a little different. “Mhmm.”

Now he’s really pulling the noises from you. He curls the one finger experimentally; Left, your hip twists. Right, your breathing picks up. Straight up, and your back arches.

He doesn’t take his time sucking up your clit and anything you release for him, the lewd sounds his mouth creates enough to support that, but how can he help it when he thinks about how bad you wanted it? He’s gotta make it count.

On that note, his tongue drags up from your hole to the nub and his head shifts to the side for a better angle. At the same time that he repetitively curls his finger into the spot he observes you like best, he slurps your clit, only to release it wetter than it went in and do it again. There’s a messy sheen of saliva and your slick coating his chin and a dot on his nose.

His palm snakes around the thigh he isn’t practically laying on to your lower stomach and rests it there so you feel everything but tenfold. It wasn’t to keep you still; he likes the chase.

“That feels s-so good, Meg,” you praise, watching his thick eyelashes flutter open when you speak, but somehow still looking like he has no idea what you said. The tingle was getting stronger and stronger, now converting to a hot fire resonating just under his palm. He adds another finger. One of your hands that wrapped around your breast drives into his dark locks. “Oh God—”

When he groans at the feeling is when your body tenses and cinches up, holding onto him for dear life, chasing something not quite too far, but the contorted countenance your features hold instantly lets him know how you feel.

“Let it go, I got you.” He speeds up the finger gyrating through the cushiony walls.

“Megumi.”

“Come for me, baby.”

You relax just enough to feel the entire distant, solitude of your orgasm; but at the same time, it didn’t feel lonely at all. He was right there, quite literally fucking you through it, but it didn’t feel lewd or sexual. It was the first time you’d felt anything like it.

It was like you were somehow spiritually connected as well as emotionally and physically, and there wasn’t anything to separate you from him as every ounce of your being was woven together.

Fuck, you’re already this sentimental and he hadn’t even put it inside yet.

Returning back to the Earth was as hard as it sounds, but the fall is a lot easier when Megumi is there to mitigate it.

On the other side— when you release the iron grip of his finger, he can finally remove it. The only sound in the room is your own heavy breathing.

“Are you okay?” He wipes his chin carelessly.

“It kinda felt like... like I was dying. But good.”

“Perfect, that’s what it’s supposed to feel like. Do you want to keep going?”

“Yeah.”

He nods in approval. Anxiously, your feet rub against each other. His hands trickle around his waist as he slides off the bed, but he notices the staring just before he kicks his pants off.

Instead, he comes around to the side, near the bedside table, only propping a knee up on the comforter to get closer so he can ease you into what he’s about to do next. “Give me your hand,” he suggests.

Without thinking you oblige, but your curious eyes blow wide when he begins to lead it onto his lower abdomen and deeper until both of you, in one movement, are smoothing over trimmed hair and down the length of skin. He was obviously erect beforehand, pressing through the fabric as if needing an escape, but feeling it is something else. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he cups your hand and drags a slow stroke all the way up to his tip and back. Similarly, he releases a shameless, airy moan of his own.

He does it again, and again, then feels that you’ve gathered enough confidence to do it yourself. Which you do; by the time he lets go, you’re already fully wrapped around him and feeling what you can’t see. You follow what he did.

His body slightly moves when he facetiously laughs, but it somehow removes and duplicates the nerves simultaneously.

“What?” You blink up at him.

“Nothing. You’re just so delicate with it.”

“Shut up. I’ll rip it off.”

“Please do,” he laughs once more, bringing an imminent smile to your face, and then he moves to push his pants down his hips. You can’t help but stare at his length in your hands.

He was right, you seemed to be barely gripping him, right before the tip. It was a smooth descent to the shaft, colored a muted shade of pink.

You pop back into reality. Squeezing, you earn a grunt. It was slightly harder to move now. There were only a few ways to lubricate his cock that you had on hand, and the best way that you had been curious to try is right next to it already.

You correct your positioning laying sideways on your elbow, the other hand curled around him, and he almost recoils when you stick your tongue out and look up for his reaction as you press your head forward. A deep sigh flows from his chest.

It wasn’t bad, and didn’t taste like anything, so you do it again, enclosing your lips softly over his tip. He wanted to let you explore so he stayed silent.

You had began to bob your head to cover some distance while trying not to choke yourself, and that’s when he gives the instruction, “Breathe through your nose. Don’t stop breathing.”

It does make it just a little easier as you keep going, but not much, so you pop off and roll your hand around his slick cock now that it was wetter. You sit up completely, tracking the other hand to his balls, praying it’s a myth that boys don’t feel anything there. Hopefully, it will make up for your sensitive gag reflex. “Sorry,” you mutter.

He holds his hair up with his arm, the other hand brushing through yours. His eyes are barely open and accompanied by a darkness brewing inside his pupils. “What did I say?”

You search your brain over for the memory. “Not to feel bad.”

“Yes. And don’t jump to conclusions. You don’t even know how fucking close I am to exploding.”

With that, he removes himself from your hold and reaches down to swiftly grasp your ankles. Yelping, you come sliding down. His pelvis is connected to your ass.

His lips can never stray too far from yours. Just when you’re expecting the deep fervor from not having ever gotten this far, or maybe just having not kissed since you were perched atop his thighs, he resonates his love in the cloud-like puff of his lips. Just when you begin to moan softly while placing a hand on his cheek, he pulls a few inches away.

“You ready?” He rubs over your clit a few times with his thumb. “What do you want me to do? Condom? Birth control? Both?”

You fidget underneath him, shoulders raised high and cheeks reddening. “I’m on birth control. Can you wear one anyway though?”

Your little voice as if he would have any type of negative reaction hurts his heart. “Of course.”

Just as he turns around, you add, “there are some…uh… in my purse.”

“In your purse?” He quirks a brow, smiling.

“I told you I’d been planning this…”

Moments later he returns with the small packet in hand just to rip it and casually roll it onto himself. His eyes focus and his brows furrow.

“Hmm.”

“What?” You sit up. Finally, you spot the problem— most importantly, how the base of the plastic stops about four fifths of the way down his shaft.

“What size did you get?”

“I don’t know. I asked for whatever the average was.”

“Have you no faith in me?” He lightly presses you back down to your back. “Do I look average to you?”

No.

Not like you knew, but you could imagine.

“We’ll make it work. Hold on to me,” he assures. You do just that in an attempt to run away from the embarrassment and link your arms around his neck.

Before you know it he’s patting your dripping pussy, lining himself up, tipping his head up to nip at your neck, and prodding at your entrance.

“Oh shit,” he hears you say under your breath. He didn’t mean to laugh but it slipped.

“What? You scared?”

No reply.

“It’s okay, you’re in charge. Take a deep breath.”

When he feels you inhale under him is when he takes the chance and inches in, pulling a gasp from your lungs right into his ear. Both of you curse at the same time. “Megumi.”

“Breathe, baby.” He inches in farther, not quite bottomed out yet, but closer. Your back raises from the duvet. “You’re almost there.”

One more deep breath that you have to actually, manually breathe out, finally has him buried inside you to the hilt.

“Good girl.”

You were delirious. You wouldn’t be able to believe what is actually happening if it weren’t for the uncomfortable throb below you. It didn’t burn; it was just a pinch from the stretch, which is the best case scenario from all the ways you imagined it would go. Wriggling around to try and speed things up, you were unknowingly killing the man above.

His breathing picks up because, fuck, you were so tight, and whoever said the condom takes away some of that is a fucking liar. Or maybe they weren’t, and if you ever allow him to, going bare might just be on his headstone. You were latched onto him with all your might both on the outside and the inside.

“Tell me—”

“—You can move.”

You accidentally cut him off, but before you can feel bad about it, he’s pulling out, slowly but surely, and turning up your eyebrows when he returns.

A few more of these, a few more “are you okays” from Megumi, a few more of your nods “yes,” and the pain dissipates. Your hums dissolve into low moans that wisp against his neck.

“Does it hurt?” He lifts his head and looks down at you cautiously, searching for pain.

“I’m okay Meg, you’ve asked a thousand times.”

“Do you want me to speed up?” His hands change from your hips to your thighs, then to your legs. His body language portrays that he is nervous. He’d been so focused on you that it slipped your mind how he felt. What better way to calm him down than to get him riled up?

“You’re saying you’ll fuck me now?”

It seemed to work perfectly. His eyes blew wide for a split second hearing your voice say something so demanding and vulgar, but he raised his chest high, took a mean grip back around your hips, and pulled all the way out. When he presses in, his waist has a small curve to add some distance, and it persists like this with increasing speed. The sound in the apartment grows.

There’s a constant movement from the bed going back and forth because of the rhythm he set. With each thrust your jaw drops further. There wasn’t unimaginable speed, but he was pounding against the fat of your ass each time and it was overwhelming. One of his hands finds your bouncing breast.

“When did you get so goddamn needy?” He asks. He wasn’t even grunting or anything, just very accurately moving his hips so his cock stretches the length of your walls.

“When—”

His fingers quickly squish your puffy cheeks together while he bends over close to your face. “Don’t answer that, smartass,” he pecks you on the lips.

The familiar warmth was building within you. Your arms reach up to connect around his back, locking him to your figure and keeping the angle of his thrusts low. You were already finding ways that you liked. Him not too far and his pelvis running against your clit as he grinds. Somehow, you manage to shake him off your face.

Not even to say anything, just to squeeze your eyes shut and release useless words and whines into the atmosphere with your red cheek to his shoulder. He did catch one word though, “closer,” and even though you cannot possibly be any closer than you are, he would try until you’re satisfied.

Testing your flexibility, he hikes both your knees up until they’re almost touching the comforter below and brings them together. This initially makes you feel farther apart with a barrier called your own legs, but then he leans forward on his toes so far that it pushes you deeper into the bed and his nose less than a breath away from yours. He curls his arms around your legs and lifts your head to dig his fingers through your hair before allowing you to rest your head again. How you’re balled up makes you feel so little.

No, to him, you feel more than little; the closeness of your thighs squeezing together removes a significant amount of space on its own. He gazes deep into your eyes when you whisper “there,” in ecstasy.

He hadn’t moved yet, but he could conclude his tip brushed past it as he was trying to get situated. It doesn’t take long for him to find the patch again by the way your eyes flicker back and forth in front of his. Then his hips lift, and he relies on gravity to slam him back down.

“Fuck!” You squeal, twisting your waist to no avail with his weight atop yours. He hits the spot dead on. “Hngh, m’ gonna come s-soon.”

He has an aggravating look on his face like none of this affects him but you know it does. The twitch of his cock says so. “Oh yeah? Can you feel it?”

“Yes! Yes—stop teasing.” The words come out slightly muffled by your scrunched up position. He continues pounding down, the squelch and slapping of skin loud in your ears. It felt like he was reaching your belly button. Every now and then a grunt would push past his mouth.

“But I’m not. Are you sure you haven’t already? You don’t hear that? Or is your pretty pussy just that wet for me?”

You could hear it along with the creak of the bed, but none of it matters when he comes forward, just a little more, to taste the swell of your lips, catching all of your moans in a hot kiss. “Meggg,” you whimper, eyes hanging low and fresh painted toes dancing in the air though every thrust.

“Yes?”

He wasn’t supposed to actually reply, but he only did because he knows you’ll provide an answer if he wants you to. You croak, “Please don’t stop,” to both him and the universe.

“That’s not something you want, beautiful.” And you take it just how it is— a warning, because now that he’s had a taste of you, he’ll go until sunrise. He glances down to where you connect to a sloppy mess of clear and white. It was wet, no doubt, but he wouldn’t want it any other way. “Push against me.”

“What?” Is what he takes the way your eyes peel open as.

“Try to push me out.”

When you finally understand his advice, a light groan turns into a full on cry of his name. He immediately regrets it because you tighten around him, removing the already little space necessary for him to move, almost making him spill on the spot while dragging your nails down the span of his back. He hadn’t known that was what would set you off. Oops.

“Damn,” his brows dip together and his head drops to yours. He decides to suck on the thin skin of your neck as you, like he asked, try to push him out, as well as the rest of the silky white he has clogged. Of course, he was pushing back with just enough strength. Your face was turning red with how hard and unexpected your orgasm hit.

Now, a few more thrusts (that are more deep grinds) to ride out your high is enough to tip him over the edge. He grabs the base of his cock as he pulls out quickly, making sure to hold on to the plastic. Despite how tired you are, you still feel empty.

The second he’s out, he rips the condom off, soothing the skin of your leg with one hand and the other wrapped around his length and quickly twisting the tip. Huh, you were being delicate, you realize.

Watching through deep, weighty breaths as he works himself, it takes everything in you to sit up on your own and wait patiently. It tells him all he needs to know by your posture.

He finally groans loudly, nothing to your volume though, cursing over and over when your hand comes up to knead his balls as the white comes out in spurts all over your chest. It was mostly your breasts, but some tainted your collarbone and chin too.

He finally comes back to Earth sometime later and wipes away the spot on your chin with his thumb before it drips.

“Fuck, sorry,” he breathes.

Before he can get too far, you wrap your lips around the pad of his thumb, sucking it and more off. You get all the way to his bottom knuckle, smiling as you watch his eyes zone in on the action. You remove yourself with a pop.

In case you didn’t know—yeah, he was hard again.

©️hxltic

347 notes · View notes

vettelsdarling · 1 year

Note

Hi El!! I hope I can call you that haha

could you do an angst-smut where Verstappen!reader and Lando used to be friends but they weren’t anymore (you can decide why). But then he tells her he likes her. She acts and tries to make herself think that she doesn’t want him back, but it gets too much in the end and they end up doing it. Then she realizes she made a mistake and they both go through stuff and she tells him it isn’t right to be together. But a month later, Lando gets action anywhere he can get it and reader is jealous. They hook up again and he tries hard to win reader over.

I don’t know if it’s too long… but I would appreciate if you could do it!!!!! If it’s too long, maybe a series?

𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑻𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓

➪Hey there :) It’s totally fine to call me El!

➪I really like this prompt<3

➪This will most likely be a 2-part fic just because of the length and more plot that I incorporated into it, but here’s the first part.

Things to note:

❥You are the younger sister of Max and Victoria

❥You’re a law student

Pairing: Lando Norris x Verstappen!Fem!Reader (x Carlos but not rly)

Warnings: (18+ content) smut, really smutty, oral (both receiving), praise k!nk, swearing, toxicity, kind of angsty, unprotected

Word count: 6.5k+

Lando Norris. The famous McLaren driver. Being the sister of Max, you’d always had to endure being around the guy whenever you decided to visit Max.

You got used to seeing him at your brother's place, which blossomed into a friendship that mainly consisted of endless teasing. Lando would make fun of your single lifestyle, whilst you threw harmless jokes around about his girlfriend.

The two of you had a great relationship, and you’d even started to develop slight feelings for Lando until he started being distant. He never texted and only ever acknowledged your existence whenever he came over to your brother’s place. Admittedly, you were hurt. Your heart clenched every time you saw him. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d done something to set him off. There was nothing left for you to do but take a hint. Even if that meant you’d carve out your heart even more than it had already been by him. You didn’t bother telling Max. He always seemed to be in an elevated mood whenever Lando came around. The two were best friends, and even if he wasn’t your friend anymore— you couldn’t risk what he had with your brother.

Around the same time Lando had announced the split from his girlfriend, you’d gotten cosy with Carlos. He was there for you. Always. You could call him crying at ungodly hours and he’d do whatever he could to help you out. He was there for you when Lando wasn’t. Carlos asked you out on several dates before finally asking you to make it official. The two of you took things slow and kept your relationship a secret from the public. You were pretty much set though. You’d even gotten your brother’s approval.

Your boyfriend would often come to visit you whenever he had the chance. Max didn’t seem to mind, but someone else did.

One fateful evening, Max had invited Lando over for dinner. You, on the other hand, had invited Carlos. He’d arrived a few minutes early and helped you with the cooking. When the doorbell rang, you asked Max to open it whilst you peeled some potatoes.

“Hey mate, my sister and Carlos are just finishing off some potatoes, you can wait in the living room. Lando raised an eyebrow. He had no idea why Carlos would be there.

“Okay, sure.” He took a seat in the living room, trying to come up with different scenarios as to why Carlos was there too. Surely, he thought, it had nothing to do with you? You weren’t dating anyone. He’d know if you were, right?

It didn’t take long before he got his answer. It wasn’t tasteful in the slightest. Max had called him in for dinner and upon entering the dining room, he saw Carlos’ arms wrapped around your waist. The sight confirmed that all his scenarios were just that; scenarios. Pointless delusions that he’d hoped were real. It made his stomach churn with melancholy. His heart felt tight in his chest.

“Oh yeah, Lando, they’re dating but it’s sort of secret. You can keep it that way, right?” Your brother asked him. He couldn’t say no. He wasn’t in any position to.

“Oh… yeah I won’t say anything.” He felt awkward being there. He felt the need to come between you and Carlos, but he knew you’d never even look at him again if he did. You were in an untouchable position. Carlos was his friend and so was Max. They’d both resent him if he ever did anything to hurt you.

After eating, your brother took him to the living room to watch a movie. You sat in your room with Carlos beside you in your bed. He’d fallen asleep, as he’d been busy all day. Recently, the media was all over anything they could get from him. His schedule was filled to the brim. It was a miracle he was able to come over.

Just as you were about to cuddle into him, your phone buzzed. For the first time in a year— there was a new message from Lando.

‘Can we talk? Max fell asleep on the couch.’ You didn’t want to reply, but he could see that you’d seen his message.

‘What do you want, Lando? We don’t have anything to talk about.’ You’d gotten over him with time, but a part of you wanted the closure you never got. The fact that he’d never even given you that, only made you want it that much more.

‘Please? Meet me in the kitchen.’ You didn’t bother replying and got out of bed. You took one last look at your sleeping boyfriend before you left for the kitchen. It almost felt as if you were betraying Carlos.

“Hey… thanks for meeting me here,” said Lando with a fake smile. Everything about him was fake to you. There was nothing authentic about him.

“Just hurry up and tell me what you want.” The truth was, you just wanted him to give you closure as fast as possible, so you could properly get over him. Once and for all. You knew you’d still hold him in a special place, but it wouldn’t be as evident.

“I miss you…” You kind of just stood there in shock for a moment.

“I don’t know what you mean by that, Lando. We haven’t talked in more than a year. You’re the one who refused to speak to me, and now you suddenly want to? Why are you being so bipolar with me?” You didn’t expect to go off like that as soon as you realized what he said, but you just couldn’t help it. You wanted him to fight back, you wanted him to tell you why he did it. You deserved to know, you deserved the peace.

“I don’t know where to start—“

“Maybe from the top? I want to know why you left me like that. You know I didn’t have anyone else but you. Why would you do something like that to me? Just tell me everything.” You saw him moving closer to you, which subconsciously made you back away from him.

“I know it was an asshole move. Especially with my friendship with Max, but there’s a perfectly good explanation for this.” He was stalling. You figured he wanted to get his story right before telling you.

“So then tell me. Explain.”

“I’m in love with you. Madly. I have been for the past year. It’s the reason why I broke up with Luisa. I tried, really I tried to repress my feelings in the beginning. But seeing you laugh and make jokes and smile the way you do… I knew I had to cut you out to get over you. I didn’t want to cheat on Luisa, and I didn’t know if you even felt the same. Look, I feel horrible about it. I should’ve said something, I know, but I was a coward,” he admitted. He took you for a rollercoaster of emotions. You didn’t know what to say. You were speechless. It didn’t seem real.

“All this time… I blamed myself. I spent nights crying myself to sleep. You’re so fucking pathetic, Lando. How could you do this to me? Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve told you how I felt. I actually felt the same way, you stupid piece of—” You were cut off with a kiss and the back of your neck being pushed forward. You slowly melted into it, intertwining your fingers with his hair. When you finally pulled away from him, you saw a small tug on his lip.

“I can’t deal with this right now. Please leave me alone,” you whispered and left him in a daze. Luckily, Carlos was still asleep when you got back. You got in bed with him and curled up close to him. You were rattled with guilt. The lips your lips last touched weren’t his, but Lando’s. How could you ever kiss your sweet boyfriend again?

You woke up the next morning, feeling the aftermath of your kiss with Lando. Your stomach clenched with guilt. Carlos was already awake. You could tell by the empty space beside you, and the noises coming from the kitchen.

Going in, you saw everyone helping out with breakfast. Including Lando. He tried to make eye contact with you, but you were able to turn away the second he did. There was no way you could ever look him in the eyes again.

“Morning, want some French toast? We made plenty so far, but Carlos is still going at it,” said your brother and handed you a plate of toast. You had no other choice, but to sit next to Lando. The kitchen island only offered three stools by it, and your brother had taken up one already.

When you sat down, you could feel the uncomfortable air growing much heavier. You swallowed thickly and tried to ease your heartbeat. The toast was wonderful. You already knew Carlos made a mean French toast, but biting into the bread, your tongue was met with all of the wonderful cinnamon and sugary flavours. It tasted different from his usual toast though. He usually included other ingredients and he didn’t add cinnamon either.

“Lando, your recipe is really great. I should’ve asked you to cook earlier,” your brother clapped his back. You felt sick. It was delicious, but the fact that you almost put it above Carlos’ was insanity. Were you going insane? Did it stem from the kiss?

“How do you like it?” Lando asked, with somewhat of a devious smirk.

“Excuse me?” You nearly choked on your food.

“The toast, is it any good?” You hated yourself and your mind. How could you think he meant something else? With the context too. Being absolutely embarrassed, you just gave him a thumbs up.

You finished your plate and placed it to be washed. Carlos had finished cooking and as you were about to leave the kitchen, you were pulled into a bear hug by him. However, when he tried to kiss you— you pulled away. This, of course, left the Spaniard more than just puzzled.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ummm… morning breath. I’d rather brush my teeth first,” you rushed and left. It felt gutting to leave him there, but you had no other choice, really. Besides, you were running late for your court case. Your internship had just started, and you were in your first year of law school, dubbed the hardest year of them all.

“Do you need a lift?” You saw Lando in the doorway to your room. It was easy to tell just how desperate he was to talk to you. About anything at all.

“No thanks, I’ll have Carlos drive me.” You didn’t even bother looking at him, as you gathered your things.

“Carlos didn’t get here by car, you know?” You forgot he always biked whenever he came to see you. Lando looked you up and down with yet another smirk smeared across his smug face.

“I’ll call a cab. You don’t need to drive me,” you scoffed and pushed him out of the doorway.

“Hey Max, see you later!” You yelled out to your brother, who was in the living room. When Carlos heard you, he rushed to go see you off. You managed to get it together and kiss him goodbye.

Your own apartment was closer to the firm where you interned, but it wasn’t anything fancy. It was a two-room apartment with little to no sunlight coming through the windows. That’s why you mainly lived with Max. Carlos offered to have you come stay with him instead of your apartment, but you refused. For the same reason, you didn’t live with Max full-time. You didn’t want to leech off of them. It would feel wrong to you.

When you got out, you tried calling a cab, but the company made it clear that it would take a while before it could get to you. You had to admit defeat, but when you turned around; Lando was already in his car, waiting for you to join him. With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you got in.

“You’re so full of shit, Lando.” You fastened your seatbelt and put your bag between your legs. He didn’t reply. He merely chuckled and pulled out of Max’s driveway. You hated the effect he had on you. Just those small chuckles and smirks sent you orbiting.

“Why can’t we be together? Tell me.” Lando sounded absolutely deluded. As if he was expecting you to come running into his arms whenever you needed to. It was as if he didn’t even know who Carlos was.

“Well, for starters, I’m dating Carlos.”

“Break up with him. It’s easy,” he replied with a happy-go-lucky and innocent voice. It drove you up and down the walls.

“Apparently it isn’t easy, since you couldn’t break up with Luisa.” It was a low blow but he deserved it.

“Well—”

“Besides, you can’t expect me to suddenly like you back after you ruined me. Do you even know what you sound like?” You were getting heated, more aggressive, and you didn’t know what your limit was.

“I apologized, okay? I still do. I can tell you so many times that I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you I love—”

“Shut up, Lando! Shut up…” The pressure you felt from him was too much for you. The harsh reality of your feelings was starting to hit you. Carlos was special to you, sure he was, but Lando was something else entirely. Even though he’d been so horrible to you, a part of you was desperate to come back for a second kiss. One that didn’t have to be so rushed like the one in the kitchen.

“Why can’t you just accept that I’m in love with someone else?” Your heart was beating faster than it had ever done before.

“You can’t be serious. You and Carlos? You might be fooling yourself, but you can’t fool me. You’re not in love with him. Open your eyes, Verstappen. Can’t you see? You’re just trying to push me away.” You hated hearing the truth from none other than Lando. But was it really the truth? Did you not love Carlos? Thinking about it, it was hard to imagine getting married to the guy. As much as it pained you to acknowledge it, maybe Lando was right.

“Either way, we can’t. You know the media. You know what they’d do to me,” you sighed.

“So you do feel the same way?” The burning question. Did you? Your heart was telling you one thing, but your brain was telling you another. Being a student of law, you were more on the rational side. You were used to listening to your brain.

“No. I didn’t mean it like that, Lando. What I’m saying is that even if I did, the media would scrutinize me for all I’m worth.” You saw Lando’s face turn bitter, but luckily you didn’t have to deal with that at the moment; because he pulled into the parking lot of the courthouse.

“The media doesn’t even know you and Carlos are together.” You stayed silent. You had nothing to say.

“Kiss me.” You heard as you got out of the car. Lando had a desperate look on his face. Your brain was fighting your heart. It only escalated when he also got out and made his way to your side.

“Lando, you know I can’t…”

“Please?” He grabbed both your arms, caressing them gently.

“I’ll see you later, Lando…” You pulled away from him and got into the courthouse to meet your coworkers. But during the entire hearing, you could only think of the Brit. The way he spoke as softly as he possibly could with you, to the way he’d look at you as if he worshipped you.

When you got home, you realized Kelly and Penelope had come home from their trip to Paris. You didn't mind Kelly at all, she was supportive of Max and kept him happy. She would occasionally bring you with her to go shopping and whatnot. Penelope was a sweet angel. You loved babysitting her whenever you had the time to do so.

“There's the law student! How've you been, darling?” Kelly came up to you and hugged you tightly. Penelope followed suit but hugged your leg instead.

“Umm, we’ll you know, I’ve been okay. Carlos and I are actually dating now,” you admitted. Kelly’s eyes flew open in excitement,

“Really?! I would’ve thought Lando stepped up! That’s so great, I’m happy for the two of you.” Even when Lando wasn’t present, he was still an active subject in your life. You couldn’t hear the end of it.

Dinner was great. Kelly decided to cook some pasta and gave you a hearty portion. Even she, who’d been away for some time, could tell that you were going through something. You didn’t have the heart to dump everything onto her, as she looked so happy with your brother. To forget about your troubles, you decided to investigate your ongoing case. Your room was more or less an organized mess. There were pages upon pages of testimonies scattered on your bed. It wasn’t until you got a phone call, that you slipped out of your trance.

“Hi corazón, you know how the Monaco Grand Prix is starting tomorrow, right? I just wanted to ask if you want to come with me…” You’d been busy trying to run away from your problems, but this truly made you spiral. Not only did that mean you’d go public with Carlos, it meant that the media would sink its hooks into you even more than it already did.

“Carlos… are you sure you want to go public? I mean… we started dating only a few months ago. What if the media makes up some outrageous story about me?” Was it a selfish question? Maybe, but it was definitely something to take into consideration. Tabloids and blogs had every reason to make it a big deal. It’s what they thrived off of.

“I’ll make sure they don’t. I just feel like we’re ready for this, no?” You could hear the thumping of your own heart. His voice was soft and sweet. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t bring yourself to give in. You hated the effect Lando had on you. You hated that he came in the way of a perfectly happy relationship.

“I… I don’t know, Carlos. Can I sleep on it and tell you tomorrow?” Procrastination had always been a bad habit of yours. It meant that you were able to hold off your problems. Even for just a few minutes longer.

“Okay, mi amor, I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some sleep, okay?”

“I will. Good night, babe.” After hanging up, you came to the disturbing realization that he’d never told you he loved you. Neither had you. Lando had. He told you multiple times earlier.

That night you didn’t get the sleep you were hoping to get. Your thoughts and scenarios kept you up for longer than you would’ve liked.

The sun had risen. You’d caved and told Carlos you’d go with him. He and Charles picked you up from your less-than-par apartment and headed straight to the track. You felt a pit in your stomach grow larger and larger the closer you got. The paparazzi made things worse. As soon as your boyfriend opened the door for you, they started asking questions. They were everywhere. The flashing lights blinded you and made your head hurt. You’d gone with your brother before, but it had never been that intense. Luckily, you were able to get through to the Ferrari motorhome. The two drivers had to go prepare for the practice race, so you waited there.

It took a while, but practice finally ended and you were met with Carlos again. You saw the practice itself and nearly jumped into his arms, congratulating him. He finished pole, third, and fourth.

“It was all for you, corazón.” You felt the guilt you had earlier creep up on you again. It was insatiable and eating you alive. Your heart was hitting your head hard.

“You’re amazing, babe,” Despite the right time and place to say it, you couldn’t bring yourself to say the three words Lando had no problem telling you.

Lando looked more or less depressed. You saw him talk to some interviewers, as they asked him a bunch of questions about the upgrades on his car. He’d tried his best to impress you, but the realization hit him. You were going to go running into Carlos’ arms and not his. He missed the domestic feeling of being with you. The times you’d joke around with his finishes and comfort him if he placed poorly or didn’t finish his race.

The way he looked at you whilst you were smiling for cameras with Carlos was noticeable. The tabloids had picked up on it, and before anyone knew of it; a new story broke out.

“Formula One Love Triangle: Lando looks bitter. This Friday, heartthrob and Ferrari driver, Carlos Sainz, held his new girlfriend, the sister of the one and only: Max Verstappen, by the waist to pose for paparazzi and media outlets. Rising mid-field McLaren driver, Lando Norris, was spotted sending frustrated looks the couple’s way. Could something be going on between the three of them behind the scenes?” Your brother read out loud at the dinner table. You just wanted to sit and soak in your misery at that point. Once again, Lando was the source of your problems.

“Are you kidding me right now? You can’t actually be serious. Darling, don’t worry. It’s just baseless slander.” As much as Kelly tried to comfort you, it was to no avail. You’d already lost your appetite. The motivation to work on your case was gone too.

“It’s fine Kelly, I just think I’ll take some time for myself. Thanks for the dinner though,” you sulked and got up from your chair. Penelope was the only one still eating heartily. As soon as you got to your room, your body felt heavy and you immediately collapsed into the soft duvet that covered your bed. You just wanted to sleep it off.

The next morning was the day of qualifying. You decided to go with Max and Kelly instead of with Carlos, as you needed a bit of time to process things. You didn’t even know what you’d tell him regarding the article. He’d probably seen it around the same time as Max. What made matters worse was that he hadn’t called or texted, meaning there was a possibility he hadn’t seen it. That meant you’d either have to act as if it was never written or tell him about it. Carlos already knew that you used to have feelings for Lando. You’d never known him to be the jealous type, but with a scandal like that… anyone would be. Even someone as mellow as Carlos.

“Kelly, sis, you guys can just stay and wait for qualifying to start. I have to go, see you girls!” Your brother left the two of you in the motor home. This gave Kelly the perfect opportunity to interrogate you about the whole love triangle article. She had prior knowledge of your relationship with Lando, which only made her even more curious.

“So, tell me. I’m here for you. You know that,” she said with a gentle voice. She didn’t want to pressure you into telling her anything, but you always told her most of your problems and vice versa.

“I guess… I just don’t know anymore, Kelly. What should I do? I don’t even know if I still have feelings for Carlos,” you sighed and buried your face in your hands. You felt Kelly rub your back with soft strokes.

“Maybe… you should talk to him? Tell him that you’re not feeling it anymore?” She was right, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him. You so desperately wanted to hang onto him. He was supposed to be your salvation. Lando wasn’t good for you, and you knew that.

“But Kelly, you know how Lando is…”

“I do, I know how much it broke you… but doesn’t that make it even clearer? You were so heartbroken because you actually loved him.” The possibility that she was right was near 100%, but you didn’t want to accept that fact. Lando made you feel like a second choice after Luisa.

“Okay, look. I have an idea. You should go talk to Carlos after qualifying. I think he needs to hear it.” Kelly was a voice of reason you hated accepting, but she wanted nothing but the best for you. Especially if you were on the path to cheating. You’d never forgive yourself if you ever actually cheated on Carlos. The kiss in the kitchen with Lando was a slip. You didn’t expect it and it was all Lando… right?

“Thanks, Kelly… I really owe you.” She pulled you in for a warm hug. Even if the media blew up about your brother dating Kelly, you didn’t really mind her all that much. She made him happy and she was so supportive of the both of you.

It was only a matter of time before qualifying came to an end. Carlos managed to place 5th on the grid for the race. He wasn’t able to find you near Ferrari, so he decided to go see if you were in Red Bull’s motorhome. When he entered, Kelly immediately took the hint and made up an excuse to leave. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You were really about to break things off with the nicest partner you’d ever had before.

“Hey… are you okay? You don’t look well, corazón.” Your heart only sank deeper when you heard the nickname, but you didn’t want to lie to him anymore. You didn’t want to lie to yourself anymore.

“Actually, I’m not okay. Carlos… I think we should talk.” Those words are the most dreaded in any relationship, and you were springing it on the sweetest guy you’d ever known.

“What is it?” He asked and took a seat next to you. It was hard for you to say anything without having to hold tears back.

“I don’t think we should be together anymore…” The look on his face was that of pure shock. After all, just the day before, you were in the tabloids with him. People knew you as his girlfriend.

“I-I don’t understand. Why?” You heard the obvious pain in his voice. It broke your heart to know that you were breaking his.

“I’m sorry, Carlos. I’m so sorry. I just don’t think I’m fully over Lando… I don’t want to be fake to you, so I think it’s best if we call it quits before anything happens.” Carlos glided his hands through his hair in frustration, trying not to get too upset.

“We can’t resolve this somehow?” He asked.

“I don’t think so, Carlos… I don’t see how we can be together when I have feelings for someone else. I’m so sorry… I really am.” You started shedding a few tears, but quickly wiped them away as they ran down your cheeks.

“I don’t know what to say right now. I really don’t. I mean, I respect your decision… I’m glad you told me before anything happened. I just don’t know what to feel right now. I think I’m going to go home.” He didn’t even let you get a final word in before heading off. Judging by his heavy breathing, you were afraid he wasn’t in any state to drive home safely… but there was nothing you could do about it.

A few minutes later, Kelly came back with Max. Immediately upon seeing your red eyes and puffy cheeks, he embraced you. Nothing beat the feeling of your brother reassuring you everything would be okay.

Max took you home that day, to your apartment. You’d asked him to, as you wanted some time to yourself. Your misery was something you wanted to deal with alone.

The bed in your own apartment wasn’t as luxurious as the one you had at Max’s place, but it was enough for you. There was a pit in your stomach that you tried hard to forget about. You’d blown off your case and asked to be reassigned to an upcoming one since you barely had any energy to do research of any kind.

Your silence and wallowing in self-pity were disturbed by the sound of your doorbell. You clicked the screen and saw Lando standing in the doorway.

“Lando? What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” You hissed into the intercom.

“I tried going to Max’s place, but he said you were here. Let me in, please?” You knew opening the door would lead to instant regret. It was Lando after all.

“I don’t know, you shouldn’t be here right now.” Your eyes were still red from crying, although your face wasn’t puffy anymore.

“Please, I really need to talk to you.” You sighed and opened the door for him. You opened your front door and could hear him climbing the marble stairs leading up to it.

“Hey…” he said as he approached you. The door closed behind him and you invited him to your small living room with a single couch and tv in it.

“Why are you here, Lando?”

“Carlos came to me. You know how we’re friends and all? Yeah, I think you can guess what he told me.” You stayed silent.

“So is it true?” He asked with a serious but pleasing look on his face.

“I’m not sure what you’re—“

“You have feelings for me? Tell me honestly, do you have feelings for me?” He pushed you against the exposed brick wall behind you.

“Lando…” You whispered. He wrapped both his hands around your ears gently and forced you to look him in the eyes,

“Tell me.”

“It’s just… ever since you suddenly came back into my life and with the kiss; I couldn’t help it—“ his lips feverishly met yours. It was as if his thirst for you simply couldn’t be sated. He grabbed your back and pulled you closer to him, feeling your tits mash against his chest. You tried to reciprocate as much as you could, but the way he was moving so fast gave you no time to think. In a matter of seconds, he was buried in the crook of your neck. He was sucking all the right spots and it sent chills down your spine.

“Fuck, Lando,” you sighed and pulled at his hair, earning a groan from him. Your body grew hotter and your lower region wetter. With newfound confidence, you started grinding against him, eventually pushing him down on your couch. You felt him grow harder and harder the more you moved your hips against his. He didn’t even have to say the word, your top was already gone. He admired the lingerie you were wearing. You usually didn’t wear anything fancy under your clothes, but you thanked the past version of yourself for going bold. Lando took the liberty of unclasping your bra and throwing it into a corner. His hands immediately found your breasts, and his thumbs played sensually with your nipples. They hardened much like his dick. Your head was thrown back due to your sensitivity. You’d only ever had a one-night stand and it was a quickie. Foreplay was completely new to you, but you followed Lando’s flow.

He moved his hands to your hips and started sucking your nipples whilst he undid your pants. You discarded them along with your panties and went on to get his clothes off. His black t-shirt was off in seconds, but when you pulled down his grey sweatpants you saw that he’d gone commando.

“Something tells me you didn’t come here to talk.” You smirked into a kiss with him. It was sloppy and when he pulled away to speak, a string of saliva was connecting your mouths,

“Maybe I didn’t. What are you going to do about it? Cry?” He smirked. For once, you were actually able to enjoy the smug look on his face, as his dick was brushing against your pussy.

“You think I’ll cry?” You chuckled.

“Think? No, I know. I know you’ll be crying my name out loud when we really get started, baby.” You never thought you’d fold over something so vulgar, but you couldn’t wait for him to prove his words.

“Now be a good girl and kneel.” You obliged, getting on your knees. He stroked himself a couple of times before placing his tip on your lips. The man was big. Much bigger than average, and he wasn’t even fully hard. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to take all of him without choking. Perhaps that was the point?

You let your tongue dance around his pink tip, letting it slide further down. You could feel a particularly prominent vein. He twitched in anticipation, and finally, he was rock hard. You’d even managed to get him to drip precum. It was salty, but you relished in the flavour. It was Michelin.

When you finally started to suck, his hands gathered all your hair in a ponytail. You were just over halfway when you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. Lando, however, didn’t care. He kept pushing, giving you soft praises here and there. When your nose was able to touch his abdomen, you had to keep yourself from choking, but it was hard. Making it harder yet, he encouraged you to take the last bit of him; which you did. For a price. You choked with tears prickling the corners of your eyes. Lando wasn’t one to cum early, but the look on your face was enough to send him over the edge. You felt him blow his load into your mouth and you sucked him for all he was worth.

Once you’d finished, he pulled you off him and threw you on the couch. You were too dazed to register his next move, but when you felt his breath by your entrance, you knew what he was planning on doing. He shoved his tongue inside of you, whilst simultaneously rubbing your clit with his thumb. You instantly squeezed your thighs around his head in pleasure, which he didn’t seem to mind. You'd never been eaten out before. It was a completely new feeling, but you couldn't get enough. Your moans bounced off the walls and you were sure your neighbours were able to hear you. The walls weren't very thick.

“Fuck, you taste like heaven.” Lando pulled away and replaced his tongue with his finger. The foreign feeling made your walls clench down on him.

“You're so tight, love,” he breathed out. You could barely take it anymore. The constant rubbing of your clit, the praise, and the shoving of his finger was the ultimate trifecta that brought you closer and closer to the edge. When he added another finger, your knot came undone and you came all over his fingers.

The scene in front of you was beyond erotic. You watched as the Brit cleaned his fingers with his tongue, savouring every last bit of your essence. Upon scanning his built body, you realized he was hard again. He’d been turned on by the pleasure he gave you.

“Are you ready? I'll take it slow if you want me to.” You simply nodded, bucking your hips in response. That wasn't the way he wanted to go though.

“Get on all fours.” You'd never done anything but missionary, but you welcome the idea. With one hand, he held your hip whilst the other guided his dick to your entrance. He teased you by gliding it up and down your folds, most likely also to be completely sure that you were ready to take all of him. You were just about to tell him to hurry when— without warning, he thrust into you with no remorse. You coughed out at the sudden intrusion.

“You… Said… You'd take it… Slow!” You gasped. Your face felt hot and your eyes felt like they were about to pop out of your skull.

“Shhh, baby, I know it hurts. Tell me when you want me to move, yeah?” His sweet and mellow voice was a stark contrast to his actions. The way his dick was stretching your walls was unreal. He wasn't even fully inside and you still felt like he'd filled you to the brim. The pain luckily subsided and melted into pleasure, which alluded to you giving him the green light.

He almost pulled all the way out, leaving just the tip inside, before shoving himself into you with incredible force. You felt like your body was going to be split in half. With each thrust came a moan followed by an exasperated sigh. It was music to his ears. He was truly in love.

He craved more and pulled your hair back, whilst still holding onto your hip. The pace was starting to become brutal, but being slutted out by him was all you could think of at that moment. You wanted nothing else.

“Scream my name. Let all of Monaco know who you really belong to. Let the tabloids know you're screaming my name, baby girl,” grunted Lando. You did exactly as you were told. His name spilt out of your mouth like a holy mantra. Your eyes were blurry and you were seeing stars. There was no way you could go on for much longer.

It seemed like Lando was at his edge too, as his thrusts grew sloppy but harder. Your insides were being all mixed up by his dick. Eventually, you clamped down on him, cumming with yet another moan of his name. This time, you screamed it louder and for longer. Your walls became too tight for him to move, and it pushed him over the edge as well. Even without having pulled out, his cum was leaking down your legs and dripping onto the couch. You heard Lando seething through his teeth and sighing, as he somehow was able to blow multiple loads into you, before finally finishing.

After he pulled out, you passed out from exhaustion. Lando was no uncivilized person. He carried you to your shower and placed you on the floor, rubbing a loofah full of soap all over your body. The water was just the right temperature to keep you asleep. He then dried you off and gave you his t-shirt to sleep in, as he got his sweatpants and helped you get into bed.

As the two of you got in, he pulled you into his chest, which you subconsciously snuggled into. This was what he’d been missing out on for so long because of his cowardice. He didn't regret anything. Only that he hadn't asked you out sooner.

(To be continued…)

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

©vettelsdarling

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

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atinystraynstay · 4 months

Text

7PM - Boo Seungkwan

Synopsis: 7pm was always your favorite time of day. There was no longer a concern over deadlines and meetings. You get to slip out of your high heels and replace them with your favorite pair of fuzzy socks. The best part is when you get to debrief the day with your boyfriend, Seungkwan.

Pairing: Boo Seungkwan x reader

Genre: Established relationship, fluff, domesticated life with Seungkwan so you know you're going to be pampered like a queen

Word Count: 1.7k

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After unlocking the front door, you pushed it open. The smell of your home always makes you feel relaxed. You couldn't quite describe the scent. It just smelled so good that your body was filled with nothing but warmth and contentment. All your worries from the workday were left outside the moment you stepped in.

You hooked your keys on the key holder. Your set was the only pair hanging which made you frown slightly. You were hoping Seungkwan had made it home from work a tad bit early, so you could see him sooner. However, seeing as it was already 6:50pm, you knew that he would arrive shortly.

An audible sigh left your lips as you slipped out of your high heels. Your feet screamed out in appreciation at feeling the floor beneath you. Even hardwood flooring was preferable to wearing high heels all day.

Finally being at home, you began to maneuver through your shared home. You smiled at the wall lined up with photos of not just you and Seungkwan over the years, but photos with family and friends. It's been a while since your home was filled with people. Maybe you two could throw a party soon? You dropped your purse on the couch before beginning to head towards the kitchen.

Seungkwan never placed expectations on you when it comes to household duties. His sisters and mother definitely raised him well in that regard. He much preferred splitting responsibilities equally, but always opting for the heavier duty stuff. And even if he couldn't do it on his own, he basically had a whole artillery of friends ready to call up.

Yet, you took joy in cooking for him. You always saw it as an act of love by cooking him a warm-cooked meal. Especially now that winter is starting to settle in, there was nothing better in your opinion than a dinner prepared by your significant other. Plus, it allowed you to shower him with affection sooner if you at least got started before you got home.

What was in the fridge?

With end-of-the-year projects, meetings, and requests - you and Seungkwan felt like you were being pulled at different ends. When you had a late night, it seemed like he was able to get off early, or vice versa. Most of the reaction over the past couple of days has resulted in groggy 'good mornings' and sleepy 'goodnight' kisses.

When the weekend comes, you both were unfortunately stuck putting in overtime at your respective jobs. It was rare over the past couple of days for you two to actually have an sat-down meal. That also meant that it has been a while since the two of you made a proper grocery store run rather than picking up instant ramen to make at home.

Let's see what I can come up with. Your hands reached behind you to put your hair in a low, messy bun. Your fingers gently grasped onto the handle of the fridge, opening it.

Your eyes scanned every shelf, every corner of the fridge. The two of you didn't have much besides every condiment you could think of, a few tangerines, and a carton of milk you questioned if it was still good to drink. It really has been a while.

"What am I going to do?" You murmured to yourself. There was nothing even salvageable to make a meal. You didn't even want it to be the best meal you've ever made. What you wanted was at least to do something nice for your Seungkwan.

"Honey? I'm home."

Speaking of which. A smile curled onto your lips at the sound of Seungkwan returning home. God, you've wanted to be in his arms all day since the moment you had to get up for work.

"In the kitchen!" You called back. Admitting defeat, you closed the refrigerator door.

From the other side of the house, you could hear shuffling. You knew Seungkwan was taking off his jacket and setting his keys, hearing the familiar jingle. Who knew something so simple as keys making noise could be the best sound in the world.

The movement from the front of the apartment made its way closer to you. Knowing that Seungkwan was home just filled your heart with happiness, with comfort. He has been a source of refuge, of unconditional love for you.

Once you heard the footsteps turn around, you looked over to see Seungkwan by the threshold of the kitchen. "There's my girl," he murmured. He immediately opened his arms for you. You could never turn a hug down from him. This time, you were the one shuffling along to reach him as quickly as possible.

Your arms immediately wrapped around his torso. You squeezed his body, almost reassuring yourself that your boyfriend had fully arrived home. He smiled at the sentiment but also was concerned. You normally welcome him home with a kiss before nestling yourself against you. Only on the rough days did you find yourself like this, just seeing the comfort of his hugs.

Seungkwan didn't hesitate. His arms found themselves around you. He felt release a soft sigh into his neck. Oh, today was a bad day.

His arms ran up and down your back affectionately, just holding you close. "Do you want to talk about it, honey?" You shook your head. He knew better than press you too hard. When you were ready, you would fill him in. For now, if this is all you needed, then that's what you got.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head before dropping his lips to hover over your ear. "I brought takeout home," he whispered.

You never removed yourself from him so fast. You spun around, but stood right in front of you. Seungkwan chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. Seeing the happiness wash of your face is all Seungkwan needed. "God, you're really the love of my life." You turned back to face Seungkwan. Your hands cupped his cheeks, gazing up into your eyes. "I just looked in the fridge to see we didn't have much to eat, so I wasn't sure what we were going to do for dinner." "Well have no fear, sweet girl. Your dinner has arrived," he winked.

You giggled at his antics. You eased up onto your tiptoes, planting a lingering kiss on his lips. His hands moved from your lower back to his side. He hummed lightly against your lips as he allowed his hands to rest on your hips.

"Go get settled, honey. The food is already in the living room. I figured we could watch a movie tonight? I can also open that bottle of red wine we bought ages ago."

He spoke your love language.

You nodded your head eagerly, giving him one last hug. Before you could detach yourself from him fully, you allowed your lips to press kisses into his skin. He started blushing profusely, almost trying to hide his face in your shoulder. Your giggles against his skin vibrated throughout his whole body. He was so in love with you.

"Baby please," he whined. "Alright, alright. I'll go!"

You were fully detached to migrate towards the food awaiting the two of you. He watched as you walked away, the smile unable to be wiped from his face. How did he get so lucky to be in this life with you?

He worked quickly to fetch the wine bottle chilling in the fridge. Seungkwan's perceptions of love were framed around the love he witnessed from his parents. He never believed he would get lucky enough to be blessed with such a love, but then you came along.

With the trusted wine opener, he was able to uncork the wine bottle rather quickly. The soft pop sounded in the air. He was surprised you didn't come running at the sound, but it made him happy knowing you were relaxing.

From the moment he walked into the apartment, he could sense you weren't in the best mood. Maybe it was the indicator of your heels just thrown on the floor, or the way you didn't really hang up your jacket. He hated the fact he wasn't hear to mend your aching body sooner.

Carefully, he poured the wine into the wine glasses that he pulled from the cabinet. Once he saw it was filled to your preference level, he put the metal bottle topper in the bottle to keep it fresh. He also put the bottle back in the fridge, knowing you preferred it chilled. Tonight was all about bringing you comfort.

Grabbing the stems of the glasses, he began making his way back to you. His footsteps were light, so as to not startle you. You did have a tendency to fall asleep anywhere, and assuming you had been on your feet all day, he left nothing up to chance.

However, he saw you on the couch with your legs criss-crossed. You had left a spot open for him. What made his heart swell in the way you were already looking in his direction expectingly.

"Here you go, honey." He passed over the wine glass to you, which you happily accepted. "Why don't you go ahead and get started eating?" "I was waiting for you," you responded. You leaned over to kiss his cheek lingeringly once he settled in next to you. You pulled back to take a sip out of your wine before setting it down on the coaster on the coffee table. Not wasting anymore time, you bega opened up the white takeout bag to reveal the containers.

All the while, Seungkwan sat back and watched you. It made him feel prideful knowing he knew the way to help you at your lowest moments. He always admitted your independence and your willingness to put others before yourself, but he ultimately wanted to the the one to replenish your kind heart.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder once you discovered your takeout box. You began to eat as he leaned over, kissing the top of your head.

7pm was easily his favorite time of day. It was when he came back to you, that he could make sure you were happy even after the worst of days. It was when he was able to shower you with the love he couldn't do throughout the day.

7pm was when the rest of the world didn't matter because he was by your side.

179 notes · View notes

seoafin · 1 year

Text

dog days are over | chapter one

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): none, but please heed overall fic warnings word count: ~3.2k

fic masterlist read on ao3

“Suguru…you’re getting married?”

Your eyes are wide as you examine Suguru in a new light.

Marriage…that’s…that’s a big step isn’t it? Already? Do people get married at twenty-two nowadays? You aren’t sure. In fact, you don’t really know what people your age do. But you’re sure that whatever Suguru decides, you will support him fully. Even if he desires to get married at the early age of twenty-two. Who are you to come in the way of Suguru's apparent desire to get married?

Suguru doesn’t even blink at your words. “Of course not,” he replies smoothly, expertly dicing carrots into small cubes on the cutting board. He finishes, puts the knife down, and looks at you reassuringly. “It was just a matter of propriety. I couldn’t just leave that girl waiting for hours on end for Satoru, now could I?”

You shake your head, smiling back. Of course he would. Because Suguru is a good person who would keep a girl company at a matchmaking ceremony that Satoru either refused to show up to or forgot. You aren’t surprised to hear it. Both the fact that Suguru spent his afternoon entertaining her, and that Satoru had neglected to go to it in the first place, or even mention it to you.

Marriage…

You think of white dresses, veils, shiromukus. Endless white fabrics. Black kimonos. Cups of Sake. You think of temples, the reception, the planning. All the different options for catering and flowers and wedding invitations. Your head spins. Weddings. Marriage. Abstract concepts to you. Foreign in their conventionality. You’ve never had the luxury of dwelling too long of what a hypothetical wedding would entail. You had no use for it, really. Though you did occasionally think about how Shoko would look on her wedding day.

Suguru is calling your name.

You blink, regaining the smile on your lips, hoping he didn’t ask you a question you had not heard. “Y-yes?”

“Just keeping you with me,” he hums, getting started on the mushrooms and potatoes. “What were you thinking about?”

“Weddings are complicated,” you say seriously. But then you think of Shoko in a wedding dress, Suguru and Satoru in black kimonos, and decide that Shoko would make a lovely bride just as Satoru and Suguru would make lovely grooms. “I hope I get to see all of you married one day.”

Though the thought of Shoko getting married disturbs you. You think of seeing her even less than you usually do and frown. Twenty-two really is a bit too young, isn’t it? She hasn’t even finished medical school yet! You force yourself away from your thoughts, regarding Suguru brightly.

“What did the two of you talk about?” You ask eagerly.

An amused glint flickers in his dark gaze. Almost teasingly. “Flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“Flowers.”

The girl had invited Suguru to see the sprawling garden at her estate and the special lotuses she tended to daily. He politely declined. You are slightly disappointed at this. You think of Satoru and Suguru’s wedding. You think of a faceless third, a potential bride that could handle Satoru and Suguru’s tempestuous natures. A calming, dignified force. You think she’ll be beautiful, befitting the two of them.

“Was she pretty?”

Suguru stops, knife pressed to the cutting board, mushroom split in two. He lifts his gaze, returning to your expectant gaze with an unreadable one before his expression softens. “I suppose.”

You stare at him. He…supposes? Just what is that supposed to mean? Some new cryptic way of conveying his interest? Maybe he’s embarrassed. Maybe he doesn’t want to admit it.

The amused smile returns to his lips. “I was just a temporary fill in for Satoru, nothing more.”

He resumes cutting. Finishes. Heats up oil in a large pot and pushes the vegetables into it with a knife.

He’s too modest. You’re sure he’s downplaying himself. She had invited him to her estate for a second meet, hadn’t she? You guess Satoru and Suguru and yes, even Shoko are at an age most would consider eligible for marriage. They’ll get married soon, embark on the next adventure of their lives and you’ll…

You’ll be content.

“Have you thought about it?” He asks nonchalantly. “Marriage?”

You falter, a lapse in your thoughts at Suguru’s inquiring gaze. “Not at all,” you say truthfully. “I can’t even imagine it.” Someone loving you? The thought of someone finding something worthwhile in you makes you feel greatly disturbed when you decided long ago that romantic endeavors were useless in your case. But even that line of thinking is arrogant of you. Nobody has ever shown interest in you in the twenty-one years you’ve been alive, and you are sure that even the slightest interest in you would only end with disappointment.

There is something fundamentally wrong with you. You would rather the vulnerable truth of it all not be laid bare and dissected by a scorned lover you disappointed in some way, because you had not been able to live up to the expected standards of romantic love. You would say something wrong, do something wrong. You wouldn’t understand. You don't think you'd be recover, and even the thought of it makes you feel vaguely ill.

You’re not naive. You know that love doesn’t have to be a factor in marriage, but if marriage was a necessity, then what was wrong with hoping for love, romance, passion? You’ve seen the well bred women of jujutsu society, the ones whose last names hold importance on some level, cultivated for the singular purpose of being a wife, a mother, sheltered away in their estates awaiting the inevitable. You think these girls deserve far more respect for being able to flawlessly navigate jujutsu society than you do, as a working jujutsu sorcerer.

You also think you want better for Satoru. You think he deserves love and everything else he’s found in Suguru. You’re happy for him. For Suguru. Because even someone like you knows how rare it is to find what the two of them have.

You exhale. “But nothing’s expected of me anyway." You've never even been kissed. "I don’t have a lover, or even parents. I’m nobody important. But you, Satoru, and Shoko…" A self deprecating smile. "It seems that I’ll have to learn to live without you guys soon.” You’d be lonely. But you at least had Megumi and Tsumiki, and even Mimiko and Nanako. You were sure they’d still need you for a few more years. And then…

You’ve never thought about the future. Not to this extent. You’re unsure of what your life would be without Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko. You’re unsure if you’d even exist.

As long as you’re alive, you’d persist. Somehow. And if you died along the way, well. You suppose you wouldn’t have to put too much thought into the future then, would you?

You must look troubled. Suguru clears his throat. You look up, just as the smell of curry fills your nose.

He lifts up an inviting spoonful of curry. “For you.”

It takes you a few seconds to completely pull out of your thoughts, and to register the spoon in his grip. You learn forward automatically, mumble ‘thank you for the food,’ and eat his offering. The curry is delicious, savory with a sweet note that can’t just be attributed to the apples you had seen him blending before to mix into the sauce. Your gaze drops to an opened packet on the counter.

“Dark chocolate?”

“A tip I got from some of the housewives in the complex,” Suguru replies, satisfied with your response. “They said that it’d add an additional note of flavor. I’m guessing it worked…?”

You nod vigorously. “It’s delicious!”

Of course Suguru’s made good with the housewives in the fancy apartment complex the two of them live in with the kids. Suguru wanted a big kitchen. Satoru wanted a view. The penthouse seemed to both their tastes.

It’s a lovely apartment, with a large sprawling living room that includes ceiling high bookshelves, an open kitchen with a long island, and stairs that spiral to a second floor. Accommodating two adults, four kids and more, easily. It brings a smile to your face to see traces of Satoru and Suguru, and all the kids all over the apartment. You’re sure the confetti and colored paper scraps on top of the kotatsu are from Mimiko and Nanako and Tsumiki. Some school project that involved copious amounts of glue and glitter. There’s a book you bought for Megumi on the couch. Just as the bookshelves are full of Suguru’s own books. The big jar of sugar in one of the upper cabinets of the kitchen (far away from the kids’ reach) is Satoru’s. To add into his cereal, tea and anything else accommodating his usual sugary diet. There’s an identical jar back at your apartment. Satoru’s sugar jar.

To Satoru and Suguru and the girls, Megumi, and Tsumiki, it’s home.

Suguru’s eyes crease with the curve of his lips, pleased. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Everyone’s going to love it.” Especially the twins, you think. Chocolate in their curry seemed to be exactly the kind of thing they’d delight at, in the small bursts of childlike wonder they rediscovered after Suguru rescued them. They followed after Satoru with their sweet tooths. However, after Nanako had been found with a cavity, Suguru had been forced to put a hard limit on their sugar intake, much to their disappointment.

Suguru gives the curry a stir, almost absentmindedly, as if he’s pondering something.

“I think about it,” he says, after a small silence. “Getting married.”

Oh.

Of course Suguru has thought about marriage. What, with all the marriage talks and matchmaking ceremonies and lovely elegant women in their pretty kimonos, who probably knew all the perfect ways to serve tea and facilitate conversation in all matters of talk. Suguru would make a perfect husband. Anybody would be lucky to marry Suguru. Charming and kind and handsome.

You’ve begun to formulate a question about whether or not anyone’s caught his or Satoru’s eye, when you hear a thundering of footsteps.

“We’re backkkkkkk!” Nanako hollers, rushing into the open living space, pulling Mimiko along with her. “Papa, are you making curry? It smells good!”

Mimiko nods her agreement, tugging on Suguru’s apron. Suguru greets them with a smile, untying his apron and pulling her up into his arms, just Satoru strolls into the room, Tsumiki at his side, Megumi trailing a few steps behind them.

“I’m starved!” Satoru announces, peering over the stovetop at the boiling curry. When a hand sneaks for a piece of chocolate, Suguru slaps his hand away.

Suguru takes the chocolate away and puts it into a drawer as Satoru gawks. “It’s not the kind you’d like anyway.”

“Tsumiki, Megumi,” you start. “How’s school?”

You have regrettably not been able to visit as much as you wish you could. Your studies kept you busy. Your missions kept you out of Tokyo. You hope your absence isn’t missed too much. You read that children should grow up in stable environments. Your schedule was the last thing from stable.

Tsumiki beams. “I’ve got a part in the school play. We’re putting on Hachikazuki-hime!”

You make a mental note to grab the date from Satoru so you can clear your schedule. Tsumiki would be graduating elementary school soon. Already onto middle school. Children grow up so quickly. You’d have to take as many pictures as you could to compile an elementary school picture book for all the kids.

“Is that why you guys were all at the school so late?”

She nods. “Ah, and Megumi hasn’t gotten into a fight in a month,” she says excitedly. “It’s a record!”

The aforementioned boy makes a face. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You grin, ruffling the boy’s hair. “That is a record!” Satoru had taken care of an incident a month ago in which you had been called to the school over an altercation between Megumi and another male student. You hadn’t been able to make it. You didn’t ask what Satoru had done, but you have a suspicious inkling that it had been waved away with a twirl of Satoru’s trusty black card.

You catch a glimpse of the clock above the refrigerator and balk. You snatch up your bag from the floor and wrap Tsumiki and Megumi in your arms and squeeze.

“I have to go now! I’ll see you guys later.”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Mimiko asks quietly, peering up at you through her black bangs.

A sheepish breath escapes you. “I have a lot of homework, unfortunately.” You’d get takeout from that new tempura restaurant that opened up a couple of blocks away from your apartment. Then it was back to the books for you.

Satoru frowns. “You can’t stay an hour?”

Nanako and Mimiko and even Tsumiki voice their agreement.

Even Suguru looks displeased. Though you suppose it’s your fault. It had been your intention to stay until…

Suguru wanted to get married. He was thinking of marriage. With Satoru, with some other faceless bride to be. All three of them. You had said it yourself, hadn’t you? You’d have to learn to live without them.

All of this is just temporary.

You turn to the kids. “Why don’t you guys wash up for dinner?”

One by one, they shuffle off to their rooms. Megumi gives you an inquiring stare, but you wave him off.

“I’ve got a lot more work than I thought…” you trail off underneath their twin scrutiny. “I think it’d be best for me to go home for today.”

“Home,” Satoru repeats. His lips twist, effectively staunching all the words that would undoubtedly tell you exactly what he thinks about your decaying one bedroom apartment that had become your home after you graduated. You were untethered after graduation. While it was an occasion, jujutsu tech had been your home for better or worse for four years. It was the first place you had truly thought of as a home. And to leave it…

Yaga had offered you your room on campus, if you wanted to stay. But it didn’t seem right. Not without Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko. You found your apartment off a flyer attached to a pinboard while at a public library. Shoko had visited the apartment with you, negotiated rent down with the landlord, and the lease had been signed with little fanfare. It was small enough that you wouldn’t feel too lonely. Big windows overlooking a courtyard in the back. She hadn’t been thrilled about it (Satoru and Suguru even less so), but it was clean with a well worn floor and chips in the wall adjacent to the kitchen from what you presumed was to measure a child’s height. It endeared you to the apartment immediately.

Your landlord had informed you that a single mother had lived in your apartment before vacating it. You thought that there must have been love in your apartment once. So much love that a child could grow up happily scribbling away on the same walls you woke up to everyday. Maybe, somehow, this love would make you feel less lonely.

Your apartment was home.

“Then let me pack you—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” You say hurriedly, backing towards the foyer. “I’d hate to trouble you. I have food at home.”

“I’ll walk you.” Satoru says, grabbing his jacket off the counter.

“I’ll take a taxi from the lobby.” You refuse. You can’t hide your smile, touched by their concern. “You should all eat. As a family.”

Suguru stares at you, the weight of his dark gaze making your skin prickle. It makes you feel as if you’ve said something wrong.

“At least make Ijichi drive you home,” Satoru says, exasperated, gesturing to the ceiling length windows that detail the darkness that has set over Tokyo. “It’s dark out.”

You blink in disbelief. “Satoru…” He cocks his head to the side. “Are you still using Ijichi as your personal chauffeur…?”

“...”

You turn to Suguru who seems to suddenly find the potted flowers resting by the window interesting.

Your mouth drops. “Not you too, Suguru! For the last time, you two can’t make Ijichi drop everything he’s doing to drive you through Tokyo!”

You sigh, shaking your head. These two. You feel sympathy towards Ijichi’s plight. Maybe that was why he had looked so withered the other day while you had visited Shoko in the morgue at Jujustu tech. Shoko had made a joke about watering him like you’d water a plant. You, however, could not find the humor in the situation when your kouhai had truly looked to be in need of water. And sleep. And food.

Maybe you could treat him for a meal one of these days…

“Does Ijichi like yakitori…?” You wonder out loud.

“I wouldn’t know.” Suguru says lightly, despite the peeved expression on his face. You can tell that Suguru, really, could not care less about Ijichi’s tastes.

“I don’t care about that man,” Satoru deadpans. “Why are you talking about Ijichi right now?”

You are unimpressed by their responses. “Anyway,” you sigh out. “I’ll be going now.”

“I’m coming—”

“No you aren’t,” you’re already halfway out the door. “Eat Suguru’s delicious curry,” you tell them both. “Tell the kids I love them. Goodnight.”

You don’t take a taxi. You walk fifty minutes to your apartment in the brisk winter in an effort to clear your mind. It doesn’t work. Suguru wants to get married. Satoru too, maybe, despite his efforts to avoid all the matchmaking ceremonies and invitations to go back to the Gojo estate for more lectures on the importance of continuing the Gojo line with an heir. In the end if Suguru wanted it, Satoru would end up wanting it too, as that was the nature of things. The two of them reconfiguring themselves around the other, always in tandem. A girl would catch Satoru’s eye, or Suguru’s, or maybe both of their attentions. And if she made them happy, you would be happy.

It wasn’t as if Suguru and Satoru didn’t have prospects. There was no shortage of girls who would gladly offer themselves. They didn’t need any help in that aspect. Besides, you are sure you’d be of absolutely no help in matchmaking. You always found it difficult to talk to pretty women. Your mouth never quite worked right. They always smelled nice too…

What you can do…

You can keep your distance. Slowly disengage yourself from the tangle of their lives. You’d be relegated to watching from the sidelines. You’d be content. Maybe you could keep Shoko to yourself for a little bit longer. To your knowledge, she had no intention of getting married. You hoped. Yet anyway.

You jam your keys into the door of your apartment, slightly lifting the weight of the door up and jiggling the keys to the right. When you walk into your apartment, you set down your bag. You had forgotten about the takeout. There’s no food in your apartment except for a rotting carrot in the fridge that you throw out, and Satoru’s big jar of sugar on the island.

Oh well, you didn’t have to eat. There's old tea in your cabinet. You ready the kettle. As you wait for the water to heat, you look out the window and think the apartment feels especially big tonight.

#gojo needs to wife geto up rn before i do smh #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #m.jjk #ddao

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strbymacaroon · 5 months

Text

Silent Love: Ch.3- Fake Dinner Date W/Feels

⊹ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Chapter Two

Previous Chapter: Sexual Tension

Chapter One: New Roommate(s)

Master-List: Here!

.・゜゜・｡･ﾟﾟ･ ╰┈➤ Sukuna x Reader

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Sypnosis:

When moving out of your dorm and leaving your eccentric roommate goes to shit, you're offered by one of her friends to move in with him... for free! That is, if you don't mind living with two completely opposite college boys.

However, life isn't that easy, and there's a hot asshole around the corner to piss you off. Especially when he's always up late at night when you're studying, purposely trying to get on your nerves in the most perverse way possible.

You hate him.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Genre:

College/Modern World AU. Multiple parts.

Shameless Smut, Thin Walls, Mildly Dubious Consent, Roommates Fluff and Crack, Slice of Life, Kinda Slow Burn, Oral Sex Vaginal Sex, Slight Age Difference, Degradation Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Enemies to Lovers, Spit Kink, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Word Count: 11,729

･｡ﾟ☆: *･ November 18th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Saturday

You sit up in your bed at the sound of frantic knocking, your eyes awkwardly adjusting to the room, and immediately getting hit with a splitting migraine enveloping your head. You wince in pain, groaning loudly as the knocking grows louder.

“Shit. Yuuji, what the hell do you want?” You yell at the door, grabbing your pillow and pulling it over your head. It’s way to fucking early to be dealing with this shit, why couldn’t he bother you in the afternoon?

You glance at the clock on your counter, the numbers ‘2:57 PM’ glaring back at you, oh shit. An exasperated noise leaves your mouth. Okay, fine, maybe it is time to get up. You push yourself off your bed, growing annoyed that the knocking hasn’t ceased to stop.

You’re too hungover for this. You and Nobara ended up drinking far too many drinks than you care to admit, so much so to the point where you believe Nobara’s car is still at the house where the party was. Or, maybe the Nobara is still there, the party was hosted by the frat of her asshole.

You should probably text her to see how she pulled through. Nobara seemed absolutely gone when you tried talking to her. Actually, is she even alive right now?

Your hair is a mess, your makeup still on from the previous night, it’s absolutely ruined, but it’s still on. You reach for your brush on the counter, flinching with the tension it has running through your thick strands.

What are you wearing? Are you decent enough to open the door? You look down at your outfit, seeing you were just wearing a large shirt, only long enough to cover the important parts. You’re willing to change, but with the insistent knocking getting longer, you’re only growing more annoyed. You decide to quickly grab some shorts.

You pull the door open mid hair stroke, clearly pissed as you say, “Yuuji what the hell do you want—“ You cut yourself off, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Sukuna?” Definiently, not how you wanted to start your morning–or, afternoon. You’re still reeling from your orgasm the other night.

You’re honestly incredibly embarrassed, the idea of the man you got yourself off to from pleasing himself, now standing right in front of you, it’s a bit too much for you to handle. You hate it, but your body appreciates it.

Sukuna looks… incredibly annoyed, maybe even a bit done. It’s hot.

You can see Yuuji behind him, leaning on his door, and snickering in contentment. Somehow, that reels you back in and out of your head, containing your thoughts to something more manageable. Yuuji, on the other hand, seems incredibly amused, his mouth pressed in a thin line trying to conceal a smile. It’s cute.

You give Yuuji an accusing look, “What’s happening?”

This seems to make Yuuji absolutely break, his hand slapping over his mouth as he bursts out in laughter. Sukuna looks more annoyed now, his eyes twitching closed as he rubs his temples. Yuuji obnoxiously points at his Sukuna with a very shaky hand. “Sukuna needs you—Sukuna needs your help.” He turns his face away from his Sukuna. “Oh my god, this is amazing.”

Sukuna seems to snap at this, turning his head to his brother and yelling, “I do not need her help, brat.” He sounds pissed, more so than normal. That has to mean Yuuji is right, which doesn’t seem right. Sukuna needing help sounds foreign. “If you’re here to be an annoying shit, you can fuckin’ leave.”

“You need my help?” You interrupt, continuing to brush your hair while leaning on your door. “And, I thought you didn’t want to see me?” You’re a bit cocky when telling him that, a smile splitting your face. “Don’t tell me you’re going back on your word.”

Yuuji narrows his eyes at you, then his brother. Confused but amused by the back and forth between the two of you, but… also equally as uncomfortable. “Okay, I feel like I missed out on some conversations between the two of you.”

Sukuna groans, rolling his eyes at his brother and turning his attention back at you. “Do me one favor, and I’ll owe you one.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his forearms catching your attention, along with the tattoos decorating them.

“What am I doing for you?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and tossing your hair brush behind you. However, Sukuna doesn’t answer, he just diverts his eyes from you. That makes you a bit uneasy, so you reword your question. “How big is this favor?”

“Big.” Sukuna seems uncomfortable.

You furrow your eyebrows, “Just tell me what you need me to do, or I’m going back to sleep.” You place your hand on the door, getting ready to close it. You’re not going to close it, you're bluffing, this situation is too intriguing to just leave, and your curiosity is killing you. You close your eyes and dramatically groan, placing your hand on your forehead, “I’m dealing with a killer hangout right now, and you’re totally in the splash zone.” You open one of your eyes to see his reaction, not bothering to hide your brazen smile.

Sukuna’s just scowling at you, “Disgusting.” He waves you off, trying to stay on topic. Actually, that’s a lie, he isn’t trying to stay on topic, he’s trying to get this conversation over and done with. “Yes or no?”

Well, that didn’t give you much of an answer. You look at Yuuji, crossing your arms over your chest. You wave your hands over Sukuna, gesturing to him as you say, “What is this about, babe?”

“Our Pops stopped by for a surprise visit.” Yuuji starts, pushing himself off his door and making his way next to his brother. “Sukuna was stupid enough to keep a girl with him in bed.” He laughs, placing his hands on his hips and leaning forward. “Now, he wants to meet his “girlfriend.” Isn’t that right, Su-ku-na.” He sings teasingly, shaking his butt a few times. You just raise an eyebrow at his actions.

Sukuna kicks Yuuji back, making him fall forward into your room. You giggle, but quickly stop when Yuuji passes you a glare. Which makes you kneel and check on him, your hand rubbing his back while you ask Sukuna, “What does that have to do with me?”

Sukuna isn’t looking at you, he’s looking at your hands rubbing circles on Yuuji’s back. “I don’t want to..” Sukuna groans, tilting his head back to look at the roof. “I’m not introducing a random girl to…” He sighs, looking back at you, “He wants to meet my girlfriend, and I don’t feel like having a conversation with anyone about my sex life.”

You tilt your head at him, “What does that mean?”

Yuuji pushes himself to sit back up, relishing the way your hands caress his face. Checking to see if he had any marks or bruises, smiling at him with care once you see he doesn’t. “He’s asking you to be his fake girlfriend.”

You jump at that, your attention snapping back to Sukuna and Yuuji. “Huh?!” Their silence speaks thousands. “Oh my god, you’re joking. Tell me you’re joking.” You awkwardly laugh, pushing yourself off the floor and taking a few steps back from the both of them.

Yuuji takes this time to get up, dusting his shirt off. “Better start begging, Sukuna, I don’t think she’s on board with this.” He laughs.

“Fuck off, Yuuji.” Sukuna barks, grabbing the back of Yuuji’s shirt and tugging him out of the room. “Give me some fucking space.” You hear the rustle of the two of them moving, before the door across yours slams shut. There’s a loud sigh, then a few footsteps back to your door.

“You’re being serious.” You say, your back pressing against the vanity. There’s a small smile tugging at your lips, “You actually–you’re really fucked, huh?” You tap your foot on the ground impatiently, “I thought we agreed no more girls?” You huff, “That wouldn’t even put you in this situation if you listened to me.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes at you, “Yeah, fuck off. Yuuji said you were out. I can do whatever I want knowing you won’t be around to bitch at me.” He sneers at you.

You laugh, “Yeah, and look where that got you.” You look to the side, running his sentence through your head again, “Wait…? You were asking Yuuji about me?” You pass him a flattered smile, placing a “touched” hand over your chest.

Sukuna completely ignores your point, “Don’t look happy. This whole situation affects you, too.” Sukuna walks into your room like he owns it, which he technically does, but it’s still a bit jarring. He closes your door behind him, “Don’t need that brat listening.” He whispers to himself, then comfortably sits down on your bed.

The idea of being alone with Sukuna makes you a bit flustered. Yet, you try your best not to think about that, “How does this affect me?” You’re glaring at him. He’s far too comfortable in your room for your liking. “Last time I checked, I don’t fuck everything that breathes.”

“I don’t fuck everything.” He snaps back at you, “Anything with a cute face, though.”

“Can you not?” You scold, “Just tell me what happens if I don’t help you.

“My–” Sukuna groans, grabbing one of your stuffies and playing with its fur. “My Pops is… a traditional man, hates the idea of–you know.” He sighs, tossing your stuffie behind him. “Hates the idea so much, he threatened to fire me if I’m not dating her.”

You raise an eyebrow, a silent question of, ‘and?’

Sukuna sighs, “Then, you won’t be able to leech off my shit, that’s what it means.” He tells you, “You’re going to be homeless without me.”

You laugh at that, no, you laugh at him. “Wait, you think I need you?” You scoff at him, pushing yourself off the desk and standing up straight. “I’m only here because it was the best option, I’m moving out the moment finals are over.” You smile at him, “I don’t need you, babe, you clearly need me right now, though.”

Sukuna covers his face with his hands, sighing deeply as he looks at you through his fingers. “Like I said, I’ll–” He rolls his eyes, his voice becoming a bit more quiet, “Do whatever you want.”

Hearing those words does something to you, but you don’t dwindle on it, but your eyes do dwindle on the open computer on your coffee table. “Hm.” You take a few steps forward, kneeling down and closing your computer. “Anything?”

Sukuna instinctively leans back, his legs spreading, “Anything.” He’s smiling a bit, but you’re glaring at him with annoyance.

Admittedly, despite how attractive he looks, and his actions are, you just roll your eyes at him. “Seriously? Can you not be a horny dog for a second?” You stand back up, “So, if I agree, what exactly am I doing for you?”

Sukuna seems a bit annoyed, “I need you to meet my–I’m going to be introducing you to my pops. And, he just wants to get to know you.” He sighs, rubbing the bottom of his face. “We’re just going out to eat.”

“Under what title?” You take this time to smile to yourself, cutting into him with a quick, “The girl who you think about when getting off?”

“You were listening.” Sukuna inquires with a smirk.

“Until you called my name, threw up the moment I heard it.” You stick out your tongue, faking a gag. “Thank god for headphones.” You point at the pair of headphones on your counter, “They’re cute, right? I like the color.” You mockingly tell him.

Sukuna’s eye twitches, “You want a fuckin’ title, you title is going to be my annoying ass girlfriend.” He barks at you, putting an emphasis on his profanity.

You find it a bit endearing, placing your hand over your heart and singing, “I’m going to be your fake girlfriend? I’m so honored.” You sit on your coffee table across from him, crossing your legs over one another. “You need me, Sukuna?”

“I don’t fucking need you, I can do shit on my own.” He turns away from you, child-like in a way.

You laugh at him, “Okay, go tell your pops that you fuck everything that breathes.” You widen your eyes, faking a realization with a gasp, “Oh wait no, you only fuck things with a cute face, right?” You point at him scoldingly, “Make sure to clarify that with your pops, it’s not just anything. It has to have a cute face.”

“Fuck you.” Sukuna seethes.

I know you want to. “Do you need my help, yes or no?” You lean back on the palms of your hands.

Sukuna takes in a breath, and lets out a slow one. “...Yes..”

“Okay.” And, the only reason you're entertaining this conversation, is because of the nick in the back of your head, something that keeps you up at night.

Your project.

“I’ll do it. Under one condition.” Sukuna seems to ever so slightly lighten his gaze from this, but it’s immediately followed by an eyebrow furrow when you add, “If you let me do my week-long project on you.”

Sukuna blinks, “Huh?”

You nod swiftly, tapping your foot on the ground, your leg bouncing with a bit of anxiety. “Yup. I’ll be evaluating your life and mental status for a week.” You lean forward, placing your elbow on your knee and look into his eyes, “You’ll be stuck with me for a whole week.”

Sukuna doesn’t seem too onboard with the situation, closing his eyes and thinking. His lip slightly pulls back into a scowl, “Just for a week?” He asks, leaning back and putting his weight on the palm of his hands.

You nod, “Mhm, just for a week.”

That’s fair, Sukuna’s going to have a bit of control over you for the day, especially if you’re going to be meeting his pops.

Sukuna nods, “Okay, under one condition.”

You narrow your eyes at this suspiciously, “Sukuna, I hope you remember you came to me. You don’t have much wiggle room for demands.” You tell him matter of factly. “You can’t give me conditions, babe.”

“You have to move out within the month of December, before finals, and don’t even talk to me until then.” Completely ignoring your remark.

You gape at this, shocked he is still trying to make claims with you pulling on his leash. “I can’t move out before the new year.” You entertain his demands, even though you’re at all going to give into them. “I’m already cramped over finals, I can’t find a house before then.” You point at him, “And I already told you I’m moving out after them.”

Sukuna sighs, looking to the side dejected. “Yeah… I was trying to get your ass out of here sooner.” He shrugs, “Worth a try.”

A bit of rage fills your head at his words, “You know what, maybe I won’t agree to this.” You say looking to the side thoughtfully. “Hopefully, you'll learn a lesson not to be such an ass to women.” You huff.

Sukuna lets out a small cocky laugh, and an equally cocky smile pulls at his lips. ”C’mon, don’t be like that. I know you don’t like me either.” He tilts his head to the side, his hair moving with him. You wonder if it feels as soft at Yuuji’s.

“Yeah, but at least I’m secretive about it.” You stand up, pulling your shirt over your thighs, or trying to is the better word. “So, you’re agreeing to my terms, or are there more demands you’re going to make, to make you feel in control?”

Sukuna smiles to himself proudly, “Yeah, actually.” He looks at you with no emotion, “We’re going to completely forget this shit happened.” He gestures between the two of you, “And any interaction before that.”

That shocks you a bit, but you don’t show it. “Really?”

Sukuna nods cruelly, “Yeah. Anything that happens over the next week, any conversation or action that happens between us, you’re going to forget all about it. It won’t give you a leg up, or anything.” His voice sounds like venom, “I don’t want to deal with you if you happen to want something more with me.”

Your eyebrows raise at that in shock, “Someone’s cocky. Sounds like you’re hoping something will happen.” You cross your arms over your chest, scowling at him. “I’m afraid to disappoint when I inform you that nothing will happen.”

“Good. Keep to your word.” Sukuna cooed at you.

You roll your eyes at his cocky nature, “So, what’s the plan? How long have we been dating, and how did we meet?” You make your way to your closet.

Sukuna groans, pulling his eyes away from your legs. “I already hate this so much.” In the back of Sukuna’s head, he thought he would have just a bit of fun, watching you squirm under pressure, and force you to be a loving girlfriend despite how much you don’t like him, but now that it’s happening, he doesn’t find any enjoyment out of the situation.

Sukuna huffs, what a pain.

You open your closet, “Yeah, imagine how I feel.” Meeting your parent’s parents is already such a nerve racking feeling, but meeting the parents of someone who you don’t even know under that title, for some reason that makes it even worse. “What’s your dad lik–” You slap your hand over your face, instantly remembering what Yuuji said the other day.

Shit, I completely forgot about that.

“Your Pops,” You add, trying to correct your slip of the tongue, “Tell me about your pops.” You feel bad now, you should really try to remember the small details Yuuji tells you about. That the one thing you wish you could improve yourself on, remembering the small things.

It would make avoiding already tense conversations worse.

Sukuna looks away from you, propping his hand to hold his head, “Stop asking questions about me. It’s weird.” His tone is different, you don’t want to say softer, but weaker would be the better word. You don’t take it to heart, it’s not your place to ask. “Just follow along with what I say, it doesn’t have to be hard.”

You also don’t take that to heart, “Alright, when is he coming?” You skim through your clothing, pushing the hangers to the side with each article.

Sukuna scoffs at this, “He’s not coming, he’s treating us out to dinner;”

You don’t like how he addresses both of you with one sole word, it’s far too intimate for you liking, especially under this context. “Oh. I should go shower then. You should grab me some painkillers, too.”

Sukuna doesn’t respond, he just stands up and makes his way close to you. You furrow your eyebrows when he stands behind you, “What are you–” The sentence dies when a shiver shoots down your spine.

Sukuna reaches over your body, his chest pressing against the back of your head. His hand pushes each article of clothes to the side, skimming through your clothing. He hums thoughtfully to himself, “None of this will do.” He whispers, “Tell the brat to go grab you something. I’m not your dog, bitch.”

You can feel his breathing, the subtle rising and lowering of his chest, and it has you a bit frazzled. Your mind racing to the other night, how he sounds, what he said. Now, you can feel him pressing behind into you, you can really imagine how he would feel behind–

You shake your head, pulling yourself out of your thoughts, “What does that mean?” Wait, what did he call you? “Did you call me a bitch, you dick?” You narrow your eyes at him, watching as he walks to your door, “Some fake boyfriend you are.”

Sukuna doesn’t even pass you a glance, but he’s smiling to himself when saying, “Yeah, you’re going to have to love it.”

—-

You’re done with your shower when there’s a knock at the door, you’re quick to answer, “Yeah?” Grabbing your pink towel and wrapping it around your body, but when nobody answers, you roll your eyes and open the door to peek your head out.

Sukuna’s outside, “Be ready at eight.” He tells you.

You lean on the door frame, kicking the door open for you to really look at Sukuna. “Where am I going with you?” You cross your arms over your chest.

Sukuna’s eyes look down at you, again shamelessly looking at your body. “We’re going to a restaurant my Pops picked out, you’ll like it, don’t worry.” He finally pulls his eyes away from your chest, and that makes you shiver, his words echoing in your head.

‘Took everything in me not to pull down your towel and lick ‘em all over.’

Suddenly, the heat between your legs is fluttering and begging for attention, and you so desperately want to give into it. You thickly swallow and avert your eyes, “How would you know that?”

Sukuna laughs at you, “You’re going to fuckin’ pretend you love whatever shit the restaurant serves, I don’t care.” He leans on the door frame with you, looking down at you, “What are you wearing.”

Never mind, Sukuna doesn’t seem too hot anymore. “Something nice.”

“Let me see.” Sukuna looks over your shoulder at the messy pile of your clothes, he makes an unsure face, “Are you wearing that?”

You glance over your shoulder, looking at your clothes strung on the counter, “Yeah, It’s a cute outfit, I put some thought into it.” You look back at Sukuna, raising an eyebrow at him. “What? Do you not like it?”

Sukuna pauses for a moment, before nodding his head. “Yeah, I’ll see you in your room.” Then, he quickly enters your room, however, you can’t help but notice the bag he’s holding in his hand. You groan in annoyance at this, closing the door and changing into your clothes, despite how you want to dry your hair a bit more. The idea of Sukuna in your room alone doesn’t sit well with you.

When you enter your room, Sukuna is laying down on your bed, holding one of your pink stuffed animals between his arms while scrolling through his phone. You think it’s a bit funny to see. “I told you it was cute.”

Sukuna pulls his eyes away from his phone to sit up and look at you. You can’t read his expression, which makes you feel a bit insecure in your body. You close the door behind you, standing in the middle of your room, “What? Don’t tell me it isn’t good enough for your standard?” You snap at him.

Sukuna shakes his head, “You know what my standards are.” Anything with a cute face. “I don’t like it, not to meet my Pops, atleast, it’s not good enough.”

Your harsh expression falters for a moment with pain, but you quickly cover it. Still Sukuna picks up on it. He rolls his eyes and grabs your waist, pulling you close to him, right in between his spread legs. “Turn around.” He gruffs.

You shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows. “No, why the hell would I do that?”

“So, I can see your whole outfit.” Sukuna tells you, his eyes moving down to his hands around your waist. “What? You don’t want me to look at you?” His head cranes up to look at your face, his pupils blown wide, a charming smirk on his lips.

You press your lips together, looking to the side with an unsure expression. Your eyebrows are a bit furrowed, as if you’re debating with yourself. “Is this some weird sex thing?”

Sukuna turns his head away from you, “It can be.”

“You’re so gross.” Still, you reluctantly turn around so your back is facing him. You’re glad for that though, the fact that he can’t see your face, he would see that it’s absolutely burning up right now. So fucking embarrassing. “Happy?”

Sukuna leans forward, his nose dumping into the spine of your back. His hands working around your hips and moving to the underside of your tits, a soft hum leaving his lips. “You smell nice.”

You softly moan, your eyes fluttering at the stimulation. You groan in disgust to cover yourself, “Get your hands off me, asshole.”

Sukuna shakes his head against your back. “You like it when I touch you, don’t you, doll?”

You look down at his hands and watch how they caress you, gentle but firm. You unintentionally lean into him, your words are desperate to be firm, “You think too much of yourself, believe it or not, not everything with a cute face want to fuck you.” You’re referencing yourself, but you don’t even believe that lie.

Sure, you’re not entirely a fan of Sukuna, but he’s hot, and you don’t nessarily have to like the person you’re fucking. You’re sure Sukuna doesn’t like all the people he’s fucking, and there is a thing called hate-sex for a reason. Which people are justifyingly into, so, you’re good. Still, you need to call Nobara to confirm this, you have to make sure you have the right opinion. Having a second opinion—that supports your own—always helps. Always.

You can feel his hands slowly dragging farther up your torso, and when they finally touch you where you’ve been dying for attention, you fall into his lap.

Sukuna places his chin on your shoulder, and nods against you, “I have something for you to wear.” His fingers work into your soft mounds, listening to the way you softly breath and moan when he squeezes just a bit harder.

You turn to look at him, your eyebrows and eyes furrowed with anger, “Didn’t take you as the type to buy gifts. That’s too nice for you.” You have a bit of a snap in your voice despite how good you feel, how good Sukuna is making you feel, but you could never admit that. You arch your back, your ass digging into his lap, secretly trying to feel him between his legs. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown a soft spot for me? How sweet of you.”

Sukuna scoffs, “Like hell, I’m doing this shit for me.” God, you’re so hot. Sukuna leans in to kiss you, but you turn away from him. He just takes this opportunity to press kisses against your neck, sucking on the skin lightly to make you shiver. He loves this, watching you melt in front of him, it’s the best form of entertainment in the world. “But, you know I can make you feel good. Why won’t you let me make you feel good?”

You try to concentrate, placing both of your hands behind your back and pushing Sukuna away from you. “Go to hell.” You bark, “Go jerk off again if you can’t control yourself.” Sukuna pushes your hair to one side, leaning back slightly to see the curve of your back while your hands push against his body.

Sukuna stifles a groan, his eyes fluttering at the sight. I practically like watching you ride his cock, your hands pressing against his abdomen. Fuck, he just want to reach over and pull up your skirt, look at the cute panties you picked out and how they hug your ass. Sukuna hates to admit it, but you look incredible in skirts.

Fuck, you got him hard.

You’re a bit hesitant to speak, “Don’t tell me that’s your dick...” You sound pissed, that’s hot.

“It’s not my dick.”

You groan with annoyance, pushing yourself off Sukuna and grabbing the bag near his feet. You’re still desperately wanting to be touched by him, but the idea of feeding into him and giving him the satisfaction has you pushing through. Even if you did have a moment of weakness. “Asshole.”

Sukuna pushes himself off the bed, getting up and adjusting his boner behind your back. “Be ready by six forty, the place is over an hour away.” He watches as you open the designer bag, trying to see what he purchased you.

“The bus won’t make it in time, why don’t you just call an uber?” You blink at the pink fabric, trying to pick out what it was. “It may be a bit expensive, but it looks like you have money to spare.”

Sukuna’s already at your door, practically walking out as he says, “Save the tags, I’m returning it after tonight, ungrateful brat.” He shuts the door after him, making sure to slam it so loud everyone in the whole neighborhood hears.

“Wow, I know, I also love it when people answer my questions.” You wave your hand with a pleasant smile. “I also love it when people aren't bipolar as hell!” You shout at the door. Whatever.

You roll your eyes, pulling out the dress, but something else in the bag catches your attention. You furrow your eyebrows, grabbing the water bottle, “Weird.” You look back in the bag, noticing a small unopened package.

Once you grab it, that’s when you know what it is.

Two pills of painkillers.

——

You can not wrap your head around why meeting Sukuna’s Pops saunters this level of preparedness. Let alone class. No disrespect at all, but for goodness sake, you’re just going out to eat. Why do you need such a classy dress, along with jewelry?

Your dress is surprisingly long, silk and soft to the touch. Still, it’s something you’ve never worn before, it feels expensive, actually, you know it’s expensive. You looked at the tag, and now feel like you’re not worthy to be wearing such an expensive dress. You can’t even force yourself to look at the price of the jewelry.

Although, you have to admit, Sukuna has good taste.

You flip your head back and forth, giving volume to your curls and glancing at your mirror for a final time. The heels that you’re wearing feel a bit impossible to walk in. You’ve never been a heels type of girl, you prefer your dirty converse and comfort, now. However, you do thank your middle school self who had a weird “only heels for shoes” phase. Otherwise, you would be tripping over everything right now.

Your dress has a slit, letting your leg peek out, but you have to be careful not to walk too fast, take too big of a step, or bend down too much, otherwise the whole world would know your color of underwear. News flash, it wasn’t something cute when you first discovered this problem.

You're wearing a diamond ring—which you’re pretty sure you’ve seen at Walmart—and a matching diamond necklace—which you haven’t seen at Walmart—to decorate your bare hands and neck. A part of you wonders if Sukuna would let you keep the jewelry since he won’t let you keep the dress, but you know those chances are slim.

You grab your expensive perfume from your vanity, applying a few spirits to your pulse points and your body before placing it back down. You reach for your phone and naturally do the motion to place it in your pocket to remember, “No pockets…” You don’t have a bag to match the occasion either.

Whatever, you’ll just hold onto your phone the entire time.

You finally leave your room, only to be met face to face with—“Ah, you’re ready?” Yuuji asks, smiling at you while closing his door behind him. He cups his chin, leaning in close to you, “I see Sukuna got on your ass about clothing.”

You give him a humorous laugh, pushing your hair behind your shoulders. “Yeah.” You place your hand on his head, pushing his bangs from his face. “He literally was on me about it. The weird asshole.”

Yuuji passes you a suspicious look, before tilting his head. “Did he tackle you and force you into that outfit? Because he's done that to me far too many times now.” He asks while narrowing his eyes.

You choke out a laugh, covering your mouth, “Really? That’s actually so funny.” You can literally picture that happening in your head.

Yuuji laughs with you, “You look really nice, by the way.” The two of you start walking to the living room, “Watch, Pops isn’t going to believe you’re Sukuna’s girlfriend. He’s too much of an—“

“Brat.” Sukuna kicks Yuuji’s back, forcing him forward. “I’d like to see your girlfriend.”

You turn over your shoulder, “About time.” You’re glad you finished your sentence before completely looking at him, because you know for a fact you would’ve been rendered speechless.

Sukuna is wearing all black. Black dress shoes, black dress pants, and a nice black button up, with two buttons popped at the top. His hair is slicked back with gel, a few strands framing his face, and you can really see his undercut now.

Of course he’s wearing his gold chain, too. Godammit, he looks hot.

“You look terrible.” Yuuji says while eyeing his brother up and down, “You know Grandpa is going to be on your butt about that.” He says with sass, his hand on his hip.

That makes you laugh, but you turn away once Sukuna glares at you. He groans, pushing himself forward, “Let's go. I already fucking hate this.” Sukuna extends his hand for you to the garage, but you just walk towards the door.

Sukuna rolls his eyes at you, “Where the fuck are you going?” He doesn’t even bother to follow after you, but much rather goes to the kitchen to open a drawer. Getting something the jingles in your ears.

“Didn’t you call uber?” You throw at him, your back resting on the front door.

Sukuna opens the door to the garage, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Take a damn uber, I’m driving myself, bitch.”

You push yourself off the door, your footsteps heavy with rage. “Call me a bitch one more time and you’re going alone. I can’t stand you calling me that.” Your heels click as you follow him into the garage, your arms crossed over your chest. “Say sorry.”

“Fuck that.” Sukuna barks.

Yuuji touches his heart, leaning on the doorframe of the garage door. “Couple goals, can’t wait to be like the two of you when I’m older.”

You give Yuuji a questionable look, “Yuuji, babe, we’re the same age.”

“You’re missing the big problem in that sentence.” Sukuna tells you, flipping the light switch of the garage, his thumb unlocking his car.

You nod, “You’re right, babe.” You point a finger at Yuuji, smiling as you say, “Don’t date a toxic, bipolar, asshole.”

Sukuna groans, popping open the driver’s door and telling you to, “Get in the car.”

You look at him, “No, I’m not getting in the car.” You’re by Yuuji’s side, “I don’t know why you think I’m just going to go along with whatever you want now that you’ve insulted me.”

“Who cares, get in the car.” Sukuna tells you, rolling his eyes at your antics.

Yuuji makes a face, “Sukuna, I don’t think…”

“No. I care, obviously.” You tell him, your hands gesturing around, “I’m doing you a big favor, yet you repay me by calling me a bitch, and being an dick. But you still expect me to do stuff for you?” You scoff, “How are you okay with treating anyone like that?”

Sukuna’s expression falls, his furrowed eyebrows relaxing while his eyes soften. He sighs, placing his hand on the top of his car while placing his forehead between them, it’s silent now.

Yuuji passes you an unsure look, whispering, “This is weird.”

You don’t respond, your eyes are trained on Sukuna. “Can you please get in the car?” Sukuna’s voice is soft, it’s a tone you’ve never heard before. It shocks you a bit, even the expression he’s pacing you right now is a bit shocking. Maybe, jarring is the better word.

You take a deep breath, pushing yourself away from the door. Sukuna takes this time to walk to the passenger door, opening it for you. You pass him a look, but it’s not returned, he’s not even looking at you. But, when you slip yourself into the seat, you hear him whisper, “Thank you.” Your name ending the sentence.

You can’t help it, despite how much you tried to avoid it, but a small smile pulls at your lips. “Yeah, whatever asshole.” He closes the door behind you, but it’s far more gentle from when he slammed your door earlier today. Even when he enters on his side.

“You haven’t apologized.” You softly tell him, watching as the garage door lifts and the car drives out. Sukuna drives with care, not speeding–despite owning a sports car–and abiding by all traffic laws. Which you can say you didn’t think he was the type to.

“You got in the car.” Sukuna rebuts.

You place your hand on the arm rest, turning your body to face away from him, “Yeah, I knew that all you were going to give me was a “please” unless you were touching me. It’s all you’re capable of doing.” It’s a deliberate sentence with a kind and soft voice, it makes Sukuna's chest tighten.

It’s silent for the rest of the ride.

—

You didn’t get the chance to look at Sukuna’s car back at the house, but now that you can, you hate to admit how nice it is. Although, you do find it a bit funny, how his car’s design matches his tattoos. Along with, you know, how the car is literally pink.

Now that, that is a plot twist you truly didn’t see coming.

You want to ask how that came about, or if… it was a personal choice, but the tension from the house is still very much there. Worst of all, to think not even three hours ago you wanted Sukuna and he wanted to fuck you, now the two of you can’t even look at each other.

And you’re supposed to pretend to be this man’s girlfriend.

Sukuna opens the door again, still not looking at you, but offers his hand with grace. You use it to pull yourself out of the car, and let go the moment you’re stable on your feet. You look at the restaurant, “This place looks nice.”

Sukuna doesn’t respond, in fact, he looks anxious. The most anxious you’ve seen him today. His eyes darted from left to right, only to check his phone, then back to looking around again. You wonder if he’s nervous about the “date,” but something’s telling you it isn’t that. He’s been so relaxed about the situation, so why would he start panicking now? It seems out of character for him.

However, when a voice startles you, Sukuna seems to relax at it.

“Be nice to the lady, Sukuna, help her inside.” He scolds, hitting the back of Sukuna’s head. You blink a few times at his appearance. He’s wearing a statement-shirt of a button up, along with black dress pants. It looks a bit silly. “Here, let me help you, darling.” The old man extends his arm to you, it’s a bit shaky and even, but that doesn't deter you.

You give him a kind smile, “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” You hold his arm.

“Oh please, Wasuke is fine.” He reassures you, looking over his shoulder and narrowing his eyes at his son. “Sukuna, I thought I raised you better. Come hold my arm.” He says brashly.

A small laugh escapes your lips, instantly covered your hand as your smile grows wider. That was a bit shocking, you expected Sukuna’s grandpa to be more… like Sukuna. Rude, a bit stoic, and maybe hot. But, he’s none of that. No offense Wasuke, I’m sure you’re an amazing person, you think.

It’s a bit confusing how Sukuna turned out the way he did, but Yuuji is completely different. In fact, he does seem like Wasuke, more happy and silly. Although, unlike Wasuke, Yuuji is pretty hot in his own way. Again, no offense Wasuke, I’m sure you’re an amazing person.

Sukuna shakes his head, moving to Wasuke's side and grabbing his hand. “It’s good to see you again.” He whispers to him, but it’s a bit tense.

“Can’t say the same.” Wasuke says, “Last time I saw you–”

“Shut up.” Sukuna barks, tightening his hand around his arm.

“Don’t worry, I will. I will. Always with the yelling with you.” Wasuke says with a cheeky smile, pulling away from the both of you and entering the restaurant.

Sukuna watches him, before extending his arm to you. You look at it, but turn away, whispering, “I don’t want you touching me right now.” You follow after the old man, seeing he’s already following a server to a table.

Sukuna’s behind you, eyeing the place, “I’ve heard about this place, but it’s a bit too expensive for me to enjoy.” However, the interior design is absolutely stunning, he will give the place that.

You, on the other hand, are absolutely awed, taking in everything the restaurant has to give you. The flooring, roof, lightning, the silver ware, the food, and the dining. It's absolutely stunning, something you’ve never seen in your life.

You feel your eye twitch looking at Sukuna’s back, just how rich is this asshole?

When you get to your booth, you’re already not liking the seating arrangements. Wasuke on the opposite side, while you sit in the corner, Sukuna in the aisle. It’s a bit weird to think, the two of you haven’t really had a real conversation with one another–just an argument–and now the two of you have to pretend to be dating.

Wasuke pulls up the menu, eyeing the food options, Sukuna does the same. You’re still admiring the place, taking in everything as if it was the last time you are ever going to be in this environment, because it kind of is.

Wasuke notices this, eyeing you up and down. “First time at a place like this?” He asks innocently.

You pull your attention away from the restaurant, and to Wasuke, you’re nodding a bit too excitedly. Sukuna softly groans at that in embarrassment, “Yeah, I’ve never… this place is just really nice.”

Wasuke glares at Sukuna, “You’ve never taken your girlfriend out? I thought I raised you better.” He scolds, lifting the back of his hand and making the threatening motion of hitting him. “She should dump you for someone who will care to take her out.”

You look at him slowly, whispering, “And is nice to her…”

Sukuna just looks back at the menu mumbling explicits to himself.

You’re quick to roll your eyes and look at your menu, trying your best to find something that sounds remotely similar to an item you know. When you don’t, you lean close to Sukuna, cup your mouth and whisper, “Can you order steak, or chicken for me.”

Sukuna furrows his eyebrows slightly, “Why can’t you order it yourself.”

“You’re my boyfriend, for one.” You tell him with furrowed brows, “And…” You divert your eyes for a moment, somewhat embarrassed. “...I-I don’t know what a single thing is on this menu. Is it french?”

Sukuna turns away from you, his hand pressing against his mouth. He’s a bit too loud for your liking when saying, “It’s all in English.” You want to pinch him, “Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” He turns back to you, “I’ll order you a salad.”

Your eye twitches at this, and you immediately spit back, “And what are you going to get? The hearts of women and children?” Despite how pissed you may sound, Sukuna picks up the small amusement in your tone.

Sukuna places his hand over his heart, “You know me so well.”

At that, you laugh, but you quickly cover it by biting the inside of his cheek. You hate that he’s a bit funny, just a little bit, though.

“Speaking of which,” Wasuke starts, placing his menu down. “How did the two of you meet?” Both of you pull your faces away from each other–you didn’t notice how close you are to Sukuna–and give him your full attention.

Oh shit, you’re not ready. You’re really not ready, that question makes you deathly aware of how not ready you are to meet anyone’s parents. You give him a short laugh, leaning forward as you feel dread stir in your stomach. “Well, uh, we met–”

“Thanks to the brat Yuuji.” Sukuna cuts you off, but in this scenario, you don’t think it’s rude, you think it’s life saving. “He moved her in without telling me. Although, to be fair, the idiot didn’t tell the girl about me.” Sukuna laughs to himself, “Should’ve seen her face when she first met me, completely hypnotized.”

You gasp at that, “I thought you were Yuuji when we first met, that’s why I was staring.”

“That’s insulting.”

You turn away with a smile on your face, your hand covering your lips. “To Yuuji that is.”

Sukuna snaps his head at you, absolutely livid. “What did your dumbas–”

Wasuke laughs at the both of you, making your childish quarrel come to an end. “Sukuna, you didn’t tell me the girl had spunk.” He looks at his glass, not liking that it is empty. “It’s good you found someone who can keep you in check. That’s good for you.”

You find a sick pleasure in that, “Yeah, Sukuna.”

Sukuna doesn’t have the chance to respond when the waiter comes, they’re dressed in all back, and have a nice smile to them. It’s far more inviting than the restaurant itself. He reaches into his apron, pulling out a small pad and pen, “Should I start rolling out the drinks?”

Wasuke laughs, rubbing his hands together. “Of course, get me something…” His eyes land on your for a moment, “Uh, something sweet. Like champagne.” He leans close to the waiter, “And maybe a couple beers.”

The waiter laughs, nodding his head, “Can I get some ID, from everyone at the table?”

Wasuke and Sukuna instantly reach for their wallets, while you lean over Sukuna and ask the waiter, “Can I get a strawberry lemonade? Do you serve these here?” You’re a bit quiet.

Wasuke gives you a look, “Don’t be like that, have a few drinks with us!” He’s smiling, handing his ID to the waiter, “I see you’re tense, drinks can help you loosen up.” You think that Wasuke is way too laid back for your own comfort.

You tap your finger on the desk, a unsure smile building on your lips, “Uh, I’m not…” You pass him a small laugh once Wasuke’s eyebrow comes up, “..I’m not old enough to drink, sir.”

This makes Wasuke’s smile fall, his eyes snapping to Sukuna. “The hell does she mean by that?” He’s glaring at Sukuna.

“I’m Yuuji’s age.”

Wasuke nods, taking his ID back, “Oh.” He watches Sukuna take his ID back from the waiter, “Weird.” He narrows his eyes at Sukuna, his face twisting into something of a scowl or judgmental look. “Isn’t Yuuji fifteen?... Should I be calling the cops?..”

Sukuna blinks in disbelief at his pops, “Yuuji’s a sophomore… in college?” He points to himself, “I’m a senior in college–how old do you think we are?”

Wasuke leans back, looking at the roof, “Really?” He scratches his cheek in thought, “Huh, I could’ve sworn his fifteenth birthday was just recently.”

Sukuna cups his face, rolling his eyes, “His nineteenth birthday was back in March, it’s November.” The waiter places the drinks on the table, and immediately Sukuna is taking a big drink. “You old forgetful geezer.”

You laugh at that, grabbing a straw and taking an equally big drink of your lemonade. “Yuuji is very much fifteen in my eyes,” You tell Wasuke, “But, aren’t we all teenage adults at heart?” You push your drink away from you, turning to the waiter again.

He’s quick with asking for your orders, and you quickly feel foreign to the situation. Wasuke asks for something you don’t even want to attempt to repeat, then Sukuna comes up with another word you didn’t know existed. This has to be a different language.

You whisper to Sukuna when he’s done ordering, “Is this rich people shit?” You narrow your eyes at him, “Are you trying to show me up right now?”

Sukuna gives you a questioning look, “I didn’t pick the place, remember?”

“So,” Wasuke calls your name, trying to gain your attention, “Tell me about yourself, what are you majoring in?”

You drum your fingers against your lap, feeling your anxiety rise a bit. “Well, I’m majoring in Kinesiology, and I plan to go further into my education to become a physical therapist.” You play with your ring, “It’s nothing too interesting.” Sukuna’s looking at you, but you don’t pass him a glance.

Wasuke nods to himself, “I don’t think I can even say that word. Looks like you caught yourself a smart one.” He cooed at Sukuna, smiling widely at him. “But tell me, dear, why did you want to become a physical therapist? Seems oddly specific.”

You hesitate, Sukuna notices this. “Uh, it’s because… I just want to help people.” Sukuna notices how your hand twitches towards his side, but you instantly pull away. Wasuke notices it too, in fact, he passes Sukuna a look addressing it.

This is what Sukuna is trying to avoid, touching you, but it looks like now that he’s not comforting you, it is making Wasuke suspicious. His mentality groans to himself, “C’mere…” He whispers to you, pulling you close while his hands rest atop of yours. You slid your hand away from his back into your lap.

Wasuke takes a sip of his drink, noticing how quick you are to pull away. “Is anyone in your family working in that profession, or something similar.”

You are completely tense at that. You pass an uncomfortable laugh, “Uh.. well…”

“She doesn’t like talkin’ about her family.” Sukuna tells Wasuke, “Ask her another question.”

Wait, I never told Sukuna that? You’ve only told Yuuji, how would Sukuna know that? Wait, was he watching you that one time you and Yuuji were having breakfast? Most importantly…

Sukuna remembers?

You bite the inside of your cheek, leaning into Sukuna ever so slightly, “It’s okay.” You turn to look at him, passing him a kind smile, “It’s your grandpa, I can trust him.” Sukuna, a bit shocked by your kind tone, nods and pulls back slightly. “My mom experiences paralysis in her face, which is really painful for her. I wanted to learn how to help her in any way I can, and help people who experience something similar.”

Which is everything simplified. You don’t have the strength to go into the real heart of the situation. It’s a bit too fresh and painful to think about, it’s something you don’t even like to think about. Sometimes, you like to imagine that becoming a physical therapist was something you developed a weird obsession with back in your youth.

Wasuke nods, “That’s awfully sweet of you, it’s always nice to be close to your family.” He smiles kindly at you, “It’s going to be nice to know when you’re in time of need, you’ll be surrounded by people who love you.”

That makes you smile, that’s a nice way to look at it. “Yeah, I agree.” You turn to the window, seeing that your seating was right in front of his pink parked car. Your eyebrows furrow as you concentrate on the design, then quickly look at Sukuna’s face, seeing that his tattoos perfectly match his car.

You take a sip of your drink, eyes skimming up and down his face, before you ask, “Sukuna, how did your tattoos come about?” You’re tempted to pinch his face softly, “Don’t face tattoos hurt?...”

“You haven’t told her?!” Wasuke says a bit too enthusiastically, “And how long have the two of you been together?”

“A week.” You mumble to yourself.

“A month.” Sukuna covers with his much more confident voice, you’re thankful for that.

Wait, you’re on a fake date with someone you met only a week ago? And there’s already this much drama between you two? Damn, you feel sorry for the girl who decides to wear the ring Sukuna picks out for her.

“Oh, I can’t wait to witness this.” Wasuke says, leaning back in his chair, grabbing his beer and getting comfortable.

Sukuna groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can we skip this part of dinner?”

You shake your head frantically, “No, don’t even start. C’mon, babe, tell me.” There’s a shit eating grin on your face, “Don’t hurt my feelings in front of your grandpa, ‘Kuna.” What you’re really saying is, if you don’t tell me you’ll look suspicious.

Sukuna wants to absolutely whip that devilish smirk off your face, but keeps his composure. “It happened when I was sixteen–”

“You got them when you were sixteen?!” You’re absolutely flabbergasted. You just take another sip of your–shit, when did you finish it?

“Exactly what I thought.” Wasuke backs you up. “I didn’t know it was possible for a sixteen year old to get tattoos, but apparently if there’s a will there’s a way.” He takes a sip of his drink, before excitedly sitting up and saying, “Tell her the reason, too.”

Sukuna gestures to the waiter, before biting the inside of his cheek, staring daggers at Wasuke, “I…” He sighs, leaning his head back as one of his hands comes to the top of his temple. “I got a tattoo because I thought I looked too much like Yuuji… and I thought they were really cool.”

Sukuna doesn’t hear a reaction from you, which makes his stomach turn uncomfortably. However, he isn’t expecting to see the absolutely horrid face you’re making at him desperately trying not to laugh.

“I didn’t know it was that deep.” For some reason, you are your own tipping point, making you turn away and laugh into your hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You whisper to him, quickly straightening up, “This is serious.”

“He acts like it is one of his biggest trophies.” Wasuke says with an eyeroll, “The boy was on the honor roll, state champion for football, played five instruments–did mock trial! And his biggest trophy is his tattoos.”

“It is!” He barks back.

You smile, admiring Sukuna’s face for a moment. “Sounds like you had an emo phase, babe.” You try your best not to laugh at the ugly glare he’s giving you right now.

Wasuke laughs with you, a subtle blush on his cheeks. “Yeah, that’s what I thought…” He slightly slurs at Sukuna, “That’s not it… for his birthday, I got him that really nice car there.” He points at the car with his beer, “Since those tattoos were done behind my back, I got it done behind his back.” He smiles to himself proudly, “Now, Sukuna’s got to drive a pink car with tattoos around town.”

You give Sukuna a look, one that reads into so many things. Sukuna’s just glaring at you, clearly pissed at the memory. You shrug your shoulders, tilting your head to the side while weighing your hands back and forth, “C’mon, that’s… that's kinda’ funny.”

“Is it?” He asks you.

“Absolutely.”

The waiter is putting down your food, and you mentally sigh in relief noticing your dish was something significantly more identifiable compared to everyone else's. It’s chicken. Smells good, too. You also notice how Sukuna grabs your empty cup, and hands it to the waiter for a full one. Did he ask for one for you? Or, did the waiter just notice you finished your drink?

Probably the latter. Unless Sukuna’s just really good at noticing the small things.

Yet, you’re hesitant to eat, can you eat this with your hands? Or, do you have to use a fork and knife like Sukuna? Sukuna notices your hesitation, and snorts to himself. Whispering, “Don’t be a caveman.”

Okay, rude way to answer, but an answer nonetheless. There’s a bit of silence while the three of you take your initial bites, which seems to follow as you continue with your meal.

“You guys sure act like strangers.” Wasuke comments thoughtfully.

“We’ve only been together for a month, give me a fuckin’ break.” Sukuna groans, cutting into his—what you think is—steak. “God knows I don’t get one at home.” He whispers underneath his breath.

As much as you want to call him out for his small remark and ask him loudly, ‘What the hell do you mean by that?’ You realize that question is literally the answer to your question. But, to be fair, when he pulls shit like that, why should you?

“You give him crap?” Wasuke asks between bites.

You press your lips together, “Depends on what he’s done.” Like earlier. Sukuna immediately passes you a nasty glare, practically sawing into his meat.

“See, she’s good for you Sukuna, you need someone to put you in check.” Wasuke leans back, tapping his belly in contentment. “Lord knows I didn’t do enough when you were growing up.”

Sukuna’s eye twitches, “Old bastard—“

“Can you be a good grandson, and go to my car and get my wallet.” Wasuke says, “I plan on paying for this meal, but if you insist. I can let you pay.” He reaches into his pockets and holds the keys for Sukuna.

“You don’t pay me enough for that shit.” Sukuna snatches the keys from his hand. But, before he can leave in a huff, he realizes exactly what his old man is trying to do. He bites the inside of his cheek, shit. “Actually, it’s fine, I’ll pay.” He looks at you for a brief moment. He’s silently telling you something.

“Go get my wallet, son.”

In that instant, you realize what Wasuke is doing, too. You stand up, waving your hand reassuringly as you say, “Oh, I can go, I’m sure—“

“Don’t be an ass, don’t make your lady walk, Sukuna.” Wasuke says with a frown, “I mean, you care about her right? Wouldn’t want to put her through that.”

Sukuna slowly nods, hiding his emotions as best as he can. “Right. Wouldn’t want to do that to her.” Yet, when he walks out the restraint, you can’t help but notice how big his steps are.

Sukuna’s rushing.

You feel your stomach burst with the wrong type of butterflies. Crap, this isn’t good. You grab your pink lemonade, trying to distract yourself with a hearty sip.

“Okay, stop bullshiting me.” Wasuke starts, “Tell me what’s really going on?”

You choke on your pink lemonade, instantly covering your mouth and turning away from him. “W-What?.. What makes you say that?” You cover a cough with your hand, drinking more water to see if that would help.

“Sukuna doesn’t date people. He has the emotional intelligence of a five year old.” Wasuke tells you with a bored expression, “And I promise you, the little turd was worse when he was given to me with Yuuji.”

You pass him a sheepish smile, “O-Oh, what gave it away?” Should you have given in that easily? Should you have fought a bit harder to convince Wasuke? I mean, there’s no point right, he already knows.

“He looks at you differently.” Wasuke looks to the side, “Well, he looks at you differently then he would a woman he was with for a month. And I know, I met an actual girlfriend of that length back his freshman year.” He chuckles remembering, “Much more admiration and less forced emotions.”

Fuck you too, Sukuna.

You blink at him a bit estranged, “Really? I didn’t take him as the dating type.” You lean back in your chair, “I mean, before we even got here I told him off for being mean to me.” You roll your eyes, “And he still expected me to come help him with a problem he created, the jerk.”

“Yet, you’re still here.” Wasuke inquires.

You huff, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Why?”

You hesitate for a moment, “I… I don’t know.” You blink a few times, looking at your hands, the jewelry catching in the light. Should you be telling him this? Is this okay?

Wasuke nods, silently telling you to continue.

Maybe he’s the best person to tell this too, you take a deep breath. “He yelled at me to get in the car, but when I told him to apologize, he took a moment to breathe, and politely asked me to get in the car.” Wasuke nods intently, silently telling you to continue. “I knew I wasn’t going to get an apology for how he treated me, and I still know I’m not, but that was the first time he’d ever soften like that, you know?”

You shakily sigh, “It was better than nothing, and despite how mad I was at him, I still appreciated the small force he pushed himself to calm down and reword himself. It shows improvement, and that was good. I appreciate it.” You really appreciated it, actually.

Wasuke smiles slightly, “Sukuna is a…” He sighs, “He’s a weird kid, to say the least. But he’s a good kid.” He smiles, readjusting himself in his seat, “I once saw him crying over a dead fly.” He narrows his eyes at that memory, “Although that could be a bad example, he was crying over not being the one to kill it.” Wasuke thoughtfully thinks to himself.

You loudly laugh, cupping your mouth, “Wasuke, that sounds like a serial killer in the making, not a good kid.” You gasp at your words, “Oh—I.. I swear I didn’t mean that! Just slipped..” Although, your worries quickly fade away to Wasuke’s shaky belly laugh.

“Oh yeah, definitely, That kid needs to be on a watch list.” Wasuke tells you, taking a sip of his drink. “One time, I got a call from the police department, assumed the worst, number one thing being arson.” Your jaw drops at this, “Turns out it was Yuuji and Sukuna, Yuuji got his feelings caught up with a classmate, Sukuna came and finished the fight.”

That’s cute. You smile at this, lightly tapping your finger on your glass, “Seems like the two of them used to be very close.”

Wasuke nods, “The only thing that gave them away was their height. So, it shocked the hell out of me when one of them came home with tattoos.” He chuckles to himself, “I used to joke that they were the same person. Sukuna, some weird spiteful spirit cursing his cheerful younger brother.”

You press your lips together, “What happened?” You slightly cringe at your sentence, “Well, I don’t mean to pry, I just—they seem very… tense with each other. More so than normal siblings.” You would know, you have your own.

Wasuke looks to the side, sighing softly, “Their parents… They gave them to me, and never came back. Yuuji was young when it happened, and to protect him, I just said they passed. Sukuna… knew the truth, and it absolutely crushed him.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“Don’t worry. I’m sure one of them will tell you more about it later.” He waves off, “Besides, Sukuna seems to like you. Although, not as much as his other girlfriend from freshman year.” He jokes.

You roll your eyes with a playful smile, looking at the entrance of the restaurant as if Sukuna were standing there. “No. I mean, I think he likes me, but in a college boy way. He doesn’t like-like me.” Wait, is that weird to say toward an old man? Especially since that old man is Sukuna’s grandpa. “You know what I mean?”

“No. He looks at you… in a way I’ve never seen before.” Wasuke gives you a crooked smile, “Like the fly.”

You laugh, but it’s not for long.

“Probably ‘cause I hate her.” Sukuna butts in while looking at you, “What did the old geezer tell you?” Sukuna sips on his wine, about to wipe his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

You grab his wrist, stropping him from dirtying his clothing. “How you commit arson as a hobby, babe.” You say, grabbing a napkin and pressing it on his lips. “Without me, more specifically.” You notice the expression he’s giving you, it’s a bit… dumbfounded. It’s cute.

But, one thing is running through Sukuna’s mind. She’s touching me.

Sukuna rolls his eyes and turns away from you, his shoulders bouncing up once. You’re a bit thankful to have that one-on-one with Wasuke, it made you feel far more comfortable then when you first arrived. Especially now that Sukuna is less tense as well.

“Well.” Wasuke extends his arm, grabbing the wallet from Sukuna. “I guess this means the meal has finally come to an end.”

Sukuna sighs in relief, finally.

—

Wasuke insists on walking you and Sukuna to his car, and despite Sukuna’s denial, he follows anyway. Making small conversation with you, which you can’t help but laugh at.

When everyone reaches Sukuna’s car, you can’t help but feel a bit bummed. You didn’t mind Wasuke, not at all. Such a shame this is going to be the last time you see him. Maybe, Yuuji will invite him to the house sometime, or invite you to family gatherings with him. Sukuna’s far off the table from those options, but definitely not exiled from them.

Wasuke sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well, I hope I see you for Christmas. I’ll even get a gift for your troubles.” He shrugs, turning over his shoulder, “I know how much of a handful Sukuna is.”

Wasuke words stick to you, touching you in a way. He knows the truth, but still wants to see more of you and Sukuna. That makes you feel a bit giddy, you hate that, but you love it, too. You giggle, nodding your head, “I hope to see you soon, too.” You bow your head slightly, “It was really nice meeting you, Wasuke.”

Wasuke waves you off, “Yeah, I guess you were okay.” He looks at Sukuna, and points an accusing finger at him. “Hey, don’t mess this up. I like her, and you do too. Don’t be an idiot and do something you’ll regret.”

Sukuna waves him off, entering his car with a huff as he says, “I won’t.” You’re quick to enter with him, gasping at how low the seats are. You apparently didn’t notice last time, but to be fair, you were pissed. Emotions can distract you at face value, clearly.

As soon as the door closes behind you, Sukuna tells you, “You’re not going to see him. I hope you know that.” He places his keys in the cup hold, placing his hands on the steering wheel.

The engine roars to life, “I know.” You reply boredly, again turning to face the window. “Let a girl dream.” You whisper.

“Not about being my girlfriend.” Sukuna’s quick with his response, “That isn’t a good dream.” That doesn’t sound like rejection, but it doesn’t sound inviting either.

You nod anyway, “I agree.”

There’s silence, it’s not uncomfortable, but you’re still the one to break it. “Did I do good?” You’re still looking outside, your body turned along with your gaze.

Sukuna looks at you for a brief moment, before the road. He takes a moment to say, “Do you want me to praise you?” He’s whispering, and you’ve grown to like anytime he whispers. It’s comforting. You just nod.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “Sure.”

They’re quick, and a bit forced, but his words still make your chest flutter a bit.

It’s back to silence again, and you can’t help but notice the slight drizzle hitting his windshield. “And, about the whole family thing, I didn’t know that.” His voice is quiet, but not a whisper.

You're a bit shocked Sukuna is the one who broke the silence this time, but you don’t mind it. “Yeah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, just to make it more believable, right?” Which didn’t seem to work in the end since Wasuke figured you out anyways.

“I feel..” Sukuna groans slightly, “Ugh, that’s shitty, it sucks.”

You shake your head, placing your forehead on the window. Loving how the cool surface feels against your skin. He feels bad for you, that’s what he's trying to say. It doesn't make you feel too good. “Don’t be, it’s not your fault.”

“No, I mean...” Sukuna bites the inside of his cheek, stopping at a red light. “I’m sorry.”

You instantly turn to him, your eyes blinking in shock. “I—I said it wasn’t your fault, don’t think about it.” You wave him off, about to look back outside. You’re tone growing a bit more incentive, you want to drop the topic.

Sukuna shakes his head, “No, about the…” Sukuna is tapping his steering wheel a bit anxiously. It makes you uneasy to see. “The stupid fuckin’ garage.” His eyebrows are furrowed.

You blink a few times, your chest flutters with those words, your lips parting ever so slightly. “Wh-What?” You’re looking at him with a dumbfounded look.

“Don’t fuckin’ make me say it twice.” Sukuna says brashly.

You stare at him for a moment, before a comforting sigh leaves your mouth, you can’t help but pass Sukuna a small smile. Sukuna doesn’t smile back, but he does see you smile, you know he can see you smiling at him. Which is more than enough for you.

Sukuna’s words comfort you for the next week, too. Just knowing that the two of you are going to be so close for such an extended period of time. A part of you is dreading it, now, you feel a bit more relaxed. It’s nice.

At least you won’t be going into the week absolutely hating each other.

You turn back to the window, elbow propped on the arm rests while your hand supports your head. This time, your body facing the dashboard.

Next Chapter: Ch. 4 - Project Week.

Tags!: @openup-yourmind, @sherlock-holmes-jr, @maskedpacific,

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