#at least I think so please tell me and correct me if I’m wrong!
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Background information:
Choi Han’s mother: Shin Haneul
Choi Han’s father: Choi Sujin
Some scrapped scenes with the Choi family that I couldn’t include in the main fic(at least not yet)
She remembered the day a bundle of joy was placed into her arms very well. Despite Shin Haneul’s awful memory, she could never forget her little boy,
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Choi Sujin sat outside the hospital room, shaking his leg out of nervousness.
“Hyung, don’t worry so much, Haneul-noona will be fine.”
Choi Sujin turned to look at his little brother, who had come straight to the hospital after studying to meet his nephew. Choi Jung-gun was way than himself, but he was much more composed at this moment than Choi Sujin was.
“I-I’m not nervous, Jung-gun!”
Choi Jung-gun looked at his brother with a blank, clearly unimpressed expression. It seemed like Choi Jung-gun had taken it upon himself to be more responsible than normal today.
Normally, it would be Jung-gun getting anxious, but looking at his older brother who was nervously waiting to hear the news about his wife and son made him feel like for one day he needed to be the calm one.
He reached into his pocket, and tapped his brother’s shoulder. “Hyung, do you want candy?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Choi Sujin took the candy from his brother, and opened the package. It was a coffee flavored candy, one that Jung-gun didn’t like, but he knew their mom did.
Today was Choi Jung-gun’s birthday, and it would also become this kid’s birthday as well. Choi Jung-gun didn’t mind sharing, especially if it was with his nephew.
He was an uncle at twelve years old, that wasn’t something that happened everyday! If anything, his nephew being born today felt a little bit like a gift for himself too, as much as it was a gift for his brother, Shin Haneul, and the baby.
The two brothers sat outside the hospital room. At Shin Haneul’s request, it would only be them, her parents, and their parents to see the baby when he was born. The hospital staff had said that it was ideal for the health of both the baby, and the mother as well.
“Sir, everything went alright.” The nurse stepped out of the hospital room, and Choi Sujin stood up fast enough that he would have stumbled if not for Jung-gun’s hand on his arm to catch him. “…I understand you wish to see your wife and child, but please be careful to not injure yourself.”
“Yeah, Hyung. You need to calm yourself down, don’t trouble Haneul-noona.” Choi Jung-gun let go of his brother, who nodded and sighed.
“Thank you, nurse. Is it alright if my brother and I go in to see my wife or do we have to wait longer?”
“No, now would be the perfect time to see her. We’ve already done everything needed for now.”
At the nurse’s words, Choi Sujin’s face lit up and he went inside the hospital room with Choi Jung-gun following behind him.
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.
.
“Haneul-noona, are you okay?”
Shin Haneul’s smiled wide, and ruffled Choi Jung-gun’s hair. “Better than ever, lil’ bro!”
Currently, the baby who had yet to be named was being held in his father’s arms. The father in question would have been crying louder than a baby ever would if not for the fact that it would startle the child.
“Haneul… he’s so cute….he looks just like you!” Choi Sujin said, voice shaking with emotion.
Choi Jung-gun looked over his brother’s shoulders and frowned slightly. Now, he wasn’t going to be mean to a baby. This baby had just been born and he was his nephew, but new born babies were a little….ugly.
“He’s going to look even more like you when he grows up.” Choi Jung-gun smiled as he said this, instead of voicing his inner thoughts. It was clear that Shin Haneul already knew what he was thinking based on the amused expression on her face.
“It’s okay, Jung-gun, he just looks funny cause he's like one hour old.” Shin Haneul said, and Choi Jung-gun angled away his face so she could not see his embarrassed expression.
“Have you picked a name yet, Haneul?” Choi Sujin asked, handing the baby back to his wife, who nodded.
“Yeah, I was thinking of Han.”
“Han?” Choi Sujin looked at Choi Jung-gun who nodded in agreement,
“”It’s perfect.””
Shin Haneul smiled, and looked down at the baby in her arms, who from this day forward, would be named Choi Han.
“What do you think, Han? Do you like it?”
As if responding to her words, Choi Han began to cry and Haneul laughed. He had just been born and yet he was so lively.
That was good, because Shin Haneul wanted nothing more than for her son to live well.
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.
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“Han, can you say uncle?” Choi Jung-gun sat in front of Choi Han, who blatantly ignored him in favor of swinging his toy sword at the toy monsters in front of him. “Hannnn, please! I’ll buy you candy forever if you say uncle.”
Shin Haneul watched her brother in law try and coax the ten month old Choi Han into saying ‘uncle’ as his first word. Of course, she wouldn’t let that happen so easily.
“Han, it’s me, mom!” Shin Haneul picked Choi Han up, and placed her on her lap. “Mom.”
She pointed at herself.
“Mom’s brother in law.”
She pointed at Choi Jung-gun, who grumbled. “Not fair, noona!”
Shin Haneul stuck her tongue out at the boy, who did the same in return. At their childish actions, Choi Sujin could only sigh.
“C’mon you two, don’t argue in front of the baby.”
“He’s not even sentient yet!” Choi Jung-gun argued back, which made Choi Sujin poke his cheek.
“So what? What if you guys subconsciously influence him to be as ridiculous as you both are.”
“Wow, is that any way to speak to your dear, kind, beautiful, lovely, amazing, strong, incredibly intelligent, cunning, fantastic, wife?” Shin Haneul looked down at Choi Han, “Han, can you believe this! Yell at your father for me, he deserves it.”
Logically, there was no way Choi Han completely understood her, but he looked at his father with his big, round innocent baby eyes, and seemed to glare at him. Babbling baby like nonsense while waving his fist in Choi Sujin’s direction.
Choi Sujin put a hand to his heart, and pretended to fall to the floor like he had been struck by a sword. “My son, you’re so cruel!”
Choi Han, the mischievous little boy, laughed at him alongside his equally mischievous mother.
Shin Haneul pointed at Choi Sujin, “Han, you see this man? This man is mom’s husband.”
“Don’t sabotage us, Haneul! C’mon, Han. Can’t you call me dad? Please!” Choi Sujin crawled over so he was in front of Choi Han, but the baby looked at him with expressionless eyes.
“Bleh.” Choi Han stuck his tongue out, and both Shin Haneul and Choi Jung-gun began to cackle.
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.
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“Uncle.”
Choi Jung-gun paused, and looked away from his homework. For the time being, Shin Haneul and Choi Sujin had left Choi Han with him to take care of while they made a quick grocery run.
“Han, can you say that again, please?” Choi Jung-gun pointed at himself, “Who am I?”
Choi Han puffed his cheeks, and with a slightly frustrated tone he exclaimed, “Uncle! Un-cle. Uncle.”
He repeated the word over and over, like he was getting used to the ability of speech. The more Choi Han spoke, the wider Choi Jung-gun’s smile became.
Gently, he scooped Choi Han up and placed him in his lap. “Yeah! I’m your uncle.”
This was Choi Han’s first word. Choi Jung-gun had never actually thought samchon would be his first word. Sure, he did want it to be the case, but he’d be happy no matter what Choi Han’s first word was.
Although, Choi Jung-gun couldn’t help but think of his Shin Haneul, and his older brother who had really wanted mom or dad to be his first word.
“Hm… Han, you love your mom and dad a lot, right?”
Choi Han nodded slowly, and looked at Choi Jung-gun with curious eyes.
“Let’s keep this a secret from your mom and dad, kay’? Next time you see your mom, try and say ‘mom’ instead.”
Choi Jung-gun wasn’t sure if Choi Han would listen to him, but with how much attention he was paying to Choi Jung-gun’s words he figured it was worth a shot.
“Mo-m.” Choi Han sounded out, and Choi Jung-gun nodded.
“That’s it, Han! If you say that, your mom and dad will smile real wide.” Choi Jung-gun pat Choi Han’s head, and carried him in his arms as he walked downstairs. Shin Haneul and Choi Sujin should be home by now.
As expected, Shin Haneul and Choi Sujin stood in the kitchen with the grocery bags on the table.
“Ah, there’s my sweet baby and silly little brother!” Shin Haneul exclaimed, whisking Choi Han away from Choi Jung-gun’s arms and pointing at the grocery bags. “I got some chocolate for you, Jung-gun. Don’t tell your father.”
Choi Jung-gun cheered and threw his arms up in the air, digging into the grocery bag enthusiastically until he found the chocolate,
Choi Sujin smiled, and went to the stove to make the pancakes he had promised the family earlier today.
“Han, did you miss mom and dad while we were away?” Shin Haneul kissed the top of Choi Han’s head, who giggled. “I’m sure you were good for your uncle.”
“Mom!”
Choi Sujin almost dropped the pan he held in his hands, and Choi Jung-gun gaped at Choi Han in shock. Man, maybe it was just Choi Han, but babies were straight to the point!
“Han! D-did you say mom? Is this your first word?!” Shin Haneul looked around, as if there was anyone else who would be called mom by Choi Han.
Choi Jung-gun walked over to the stove to cook the pancakes Choi Sujin had been making, but abandoned it in favor of running over to his son and wife.
While Choi Sujin and Shin Haneul fussed over Choi Han, Choi Jung-gun gave Choi Han a very discreet thumbs up when the baby was staring at him with his wide black eyes.
Sometimes, when Choi Jung-gun looked into his nephew’s eyes, it felt like there was a whole universe of stars growing inside of them.
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Shin Haneul sat up in her bed, looking around the room as to where the sound of crying could be coming from.
She had been a light sleeper ever since Choi Han was born, not because he caused a lot of trouble, but sometimes she couldn’t get rid of the overwhelming dread that took over her at night.
Shin Haneul had no idea where this feeling came from. She had always been overjoyed at being with her son, in fact, she couldn’t be happier! But there were days when it felt like Choi Han would disappear if she didn’t pay enough attention, like he’d be gone before she even knew it.
She had spoken about it to her own mother before, asking if it was a normal feeling. Mother nodded, looking at her own daughter with sad eyes.
“I was scared I would lose you too. You were a very active child, and sometimes I’d get scared that if I looked away you’d injure yourself. Thankfully, when I was busy your father was always there so you were always safe.”
Shin Haneul sighed in relief, thank god it was just a normal thing and not some weird premonition of the future.
She wouldn’t know what to do with herself if that was the case.
Even with the reassurance she got from her mother, Shin Haneul couldn’t help the unease that was in her mind at night. Choi Sujin was fast asleep, like he was a Victorian child who was suffering from the plague, so it could not be her husband who was crying.
The only other option was Choi Han, who she found sobbing into his pillow.
Shin Haneul felt her eyebrows twist, and she put a hand on Choi Han’s head, wiping away the tears that fell from his eyes.
“Oh, my star, what’s wrong?”
Choi Han did not respond, could not respond, for his mind was overtaken by the terrors of the night.
Shin Haneul laid back down, and pulled Choi Han closer to her. While he was still crying, he had stopped shaking.
She wondered just what kind of things had happened for a five year old boy to be crying so much.
Had Choi Han remembered Jung-gun, who had gone missing two years earlier?
…Ah, perhaps that was where her fear came from.
Ever since Choi Jung-gun went missing, Shin Haneul had never gotten a full night's sleep. The only times she could sleep were the short naps she took in the morning.
Choi Jung-gun had gone missing just like that, no warning, no nothing.
It was like a god had taken him to another world, with no trace of him left to be found at his home where everyone cried out for him.
Shin Haneul didn’t let herself cry, because to her it felt like if she cried it would be admitting Choi Jung-gun had died.
She knew that boy wasn’t dead, he had to be alive, no matter what. One day he would come home, and they would all be there to welcome him again.
Shin Haneul looked down at her son, who was still crying, and kissed his hair. She caressed the top of his head, and began to hum a lullaby her own mother had sung for her when she was young.
The terrors of the night were strong, but against a mother’s love, even they would fall as well.
Slowly, Choi Han’s sobs died out, the only other sound left in the quiet night being that of Shin Haneul’s comforting hums, and the gentle sounds of her husband and son’s breathing.
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Choi Sujin watched Choi Han hold up a cat plush to the baby in front of him.
Choi Jungsoo, the baby, had been born two months ago, but this was Choi Han’s first time seeing him. Despite only being six years old, Choi Han was technically an uncle, and Choi Sujin was a grand uncle.
“Jungsoo, call me hyung!”
“Han, he’s only two months old, so he can’t really talk yet.” Choi Sujin said, sitting down next to his son who continued gave the cat plush to Choi Jungsoo.
“Oh, was I like that too?”
“Mhm, you were just as small as he was too.”
Choi Sujin smiled at his son’s shocked expression, like he couldn’t even fathom being as small as Choi Jungsoo was.
“But I don’t remember that!”
“You don’t remember, but mom and dad remember.” Choi Sujin picked Choi Jungsoo up, and held him in his arms. “I can show you the photos.”
Choi Jung-gun would have said he remembered too, if he was here. Jung-gun had loved taking photos, especially of Choi Han since he was his favorite nephew.
The photo album they had consisted of many photos, but a good chunk of the later half of the album was filled with photos Choi Jung-gun had taken. Choi Jung-gun took photos and notes of almost everything he liked.
In the album, there were photos of the family, and Choi Jung-gun’s notes about them under it. Choi Han was no exception, and had multiple pictures of himself from when he was zero to three years old.
“I wanna see!”
Choi Han stood up, and followed his father upstairs who still carried Choi Jungsoo in his arms. After looking through a shelf, Choi Sujin found the album, and handed it to Choi Han.
He wasn’t worried about Choi Han damaging the album, because Choi Han had always handled books and albums with a lot of care. It seemed that even though he couldn’t remember most things, he still cherished the memories that he held in his hands.
Choi Han opened the album, and flipped through each page. Pointing out the people he recognized, and asking if he didn’t recognize someone. He flipped through the pages until he found a page labeled ‘November Eighth’.
They had dedicated an entire page to that day, because three people had been born on that day. Choi Jung-gun, Choi Han, and now, Choi Jungsoo.
“It’s me!” Choi Han pointed at the picture of him from when he was a baby. The hat he wore had rabbit ears on it, something Shin Haneul had found absolutely adorable when she saw it at the store.
Underneath the picture was a note, no name on it, and Choi Han did not recognize the handwriting, but he read it anyway.
‘On November Eighth, Han was born! He was a little ugly, but he’s cute now. He looks a lot like Haneul-noona, but his eyes are the same as hyung’s. He pulls my hair a lot, and he’s stupid strong for a baby. Maybe I’ll cut my hair so he has nothing to grab on when I carry him.’
“I’m not ugly! Whoever wrote this is the king of ugly.” Choi Han grumbled when he saw the second sentence.
Choi Sujin laughed, “But didn’t they call you cute after?”
“Hm… well, they’re still wrong! Mom says I’ve been cute forever, and mom is never wrong.” Choi Jungsoo yelled in agreement, and Choi Han nodded. “That’s right, Jungsoo! Moms are never wrong so you should always listen. And you should listen to your dad too, and my dad. My dad is cool too!”
Choi Sujin smiled proudly, “I’m the coolest, aren’t I?”
Choi Jungsoo only looked at him with such unimpressed eyes that Choi Sujin felt like his ego was being stabbed directly in the heart.
#saebom means younger unmarried brother of father#at least I think so please tell me and correct me if I’m wrong!#I love the Choi family#they make me so sad#we know very little abt Junggun especially him when he was younger so I just kinda made stuff up abt his personality#and we know next to nothing abt Choi Han’s parents so they’re basically ocs 😭😭#Choi Han#Choi Jungsoo#choi jung gun#tcf fanfic#lcf fanfic#tcf#lcf#sorry if this isn’t TCF lore accurate I heard someone say that CJG is their ancestor#but on the wiki it says he’s Choi Han’s uncle#so I just went w/ what the wiki says#lout of the count’s family#trash of the count's family
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hello love! I just, like, devoured all your writings today and idk if your requests are open, but I really like seer!reader and I was wondering if I could request one with poly!marauders where reader is a slytherin and she has a vision of befriending them or being in a relationship with them?
I’d imagined she thinks it’s a silly vision at first but the more she sees the boys (as she’s friends with Regulus so is bound to run into them with him), the visions occur more and more until she finally has an official interaction with them and officially meets them.
Idk if that’s too complicated/confusing, if so, you don’t have to write it obviously 😅.
I love Seer reader!!! thanks for your request lovie <3
please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.
poly!marauders x Seer Slytherin fem!reader who Sees a relationship with them
“Tell me again why I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch?” You protested as Regulus all but dragged you to the Great Hall and Barty skipped merrily-on ahead.
“Because I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch.” He answered gruffly, strengthening his hold on your arm as you faltered in your steps.
“I don’t know, babes; have you ever considered just killing him? You wouldn’t have to reconnect with your estranged brother if he was dead.” Barty offered nonchalantly.
“For the last time, Barty, I am not killing my brother.”
“A decision we’re all suffering for, apparently.” You muttered petulantly as you entered the Great Hall; chatter and the sounds of cutlery and tableware permeating your senses.
“Don’t worry, Treasure. The faster we eat the faster we can get away.” Barty offered in consolation.
“I am not doing the heimlich on you again, Barty.” You groaned as you followed Regulus towards the wrong side of the Great Hall.
“Come on, they’re not that bad.” Regulus tried.
You and Barty both stopped to give him unimpressed glares.
“Lupin’s not that bad.” He corrected.
“Yeah, and then he ruins that by the company he keeps.” You grumble as you plopped yourself down unceremoniously at the Red and Gold table across from your three lunch dates for the day.
Listen, you were all for being a good friend, a supportive friend; you would die for Regulus Black.
You’re not sure that support extended to willingly eating lunch with Gryffindor’s.
But Regulus was determined to mend his relationship with his brother before Sirius graduated, Barty went just about anywhere Regulus went, and apparently you were single-handedly responsible for Regulus’ general sanity when it came to his brother and Barty.
“Hello Reggie!” Sirius called quickly.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What am I supposed to call you?” His brother bit back slightly less brightly.
“I call him sugar tits but I don’t think that’s universal.” Barty offered as he started loading up his plate.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Junior.” James offered cautiously.
“I bet it is, Potter.”
Sirius sighed as if he’d been dealing with the likes of toddlers all morning and not 37 seconds of Barty Crouch Junior. “The polite thing to say would be ‘it’s nice to see you too, James’.”
Barty froze with his fork half way to his mouth as he furrowed his brows at Sirius. “No it wouldn’t; it’s not polite to lie, Black.”
“I brought another friend you can try to converse with.” Regulus spat hastily.
“Pretend I’m not here; that’s what I’m doing.” You sighed as you resigned yourself to your fate.
“Well, this is off to a good start.” Remus said with a smirk as he flipped a page in his book.
You did suppose Lupin was the least…abrasive of him and his boyfriends. You’d had a chance to get to know him last year during prefect rounds; and while you didn’t appreciate how much he let his fellow Marauders get away with, he was relatively nice. In fact, if he had been in any house other than Gryffindor, you may have given him a chance.
His boyfriend’s, though?
You’d rather take your chances with the Giant Squid than spend your lunch hour with them.
Were they attractive? Sure. You may be contemptuous, but you weren’t blind.
But they always seemed to be on; there was never a moment of silence with those two nearby, and you often found yourself bracing for impact whenever they were around.
“Looking as smashing as ever, L/N.” James said as he shot you a wink.
Case in point.
“If I threw a stick, you’d leave right?” You sneered and turned towards your sandwich.
“Nice!” Barty cheered at the same time as Remus muttered “easy kitten; play nice.”
You started to feel the familiar sensation of your consciousness being pulled elsewhere. It felt as though you were being submerged under cold water, and the neurons firing in your brain were being gently lifted and ushered towards a new reality.
“What’s wrong dollface?” Sirius asked you earnestly.
You sucked in a shaky breath as you tried to hide the trembling in your hands. “I just don’t feel very good.” You whispered, not trusting your voice to get through a sentence without sobbing.
“Oh, my poor girl. Come here sweets.” He repositioned himself from laying on his stomach to sitting cross legged and opening his arms in invitation.
You quickly accepted his offer and curled up in his lap as he wrapped protective arms around you and began to rock you back and forth.
“You’re okay, dolly. You’re just fine.” He murmured with his lips pressed to your hair line. “D’ya wanna stay here with me and the boys tonight?”
You let out a pathetically embarrassing keening sound as you nodded quickly.
“Okay baby; consider it done.”
You sucked in a horrified breath as your consciousness returned and you were once again assaulted by the noises of the Great Hall.
Regulus quickly caught the glass of pumpkin juice you’d just nearly toppled and was holding your wrist tightly in his hand.
You thanked the deities for his seeker reflexes and that he seemed to already know what had happened; this was a relatively routine practice between the two of you this far along in your friendship.
“You’re okay.” He offered without even sparing you a glance as he took a napkin with his free hand to clean up what little you’d spilled.
He kept your wrist in his grip; tracking your pulse as he waited for your heart rate to slow down.
“Was it a good one!?” Barty asked excitedly, alerting you to the fact that it wasn’t just you and Regulus sitting here.
You looked up horrified to see Remus, James, and Sirius all looking at you with various levels of concerns.
“Was what a good one?” Sirius asked bemusedly.
Barty scoffed derisively. “She’s a Seer, Black. Fuck, you’re thick.”
“Barty.” Regulus scolded as he turned to offer you his full attention.
“Are you really?” James asked at the same time as Regulus asked “what did you See?”
“I have to go.” You muttered breathlessly as you grabbed your things and headed towards the exit.
“No fair! Why does she get to leave and I don’t!?” You heard Barty whine as you pushed through the doors to the courtyard.
You were going insane, surely. This was just a bout of madness. You needed psychological help, like one of those muggle mind healers. You could not seriously be having Sights of you dating the Marauders.
“Hey L/N!”
“Fucking hells!” You shrieked as you spun to see Remus and James approaching you, the latter having been the one to call your name.
James still had his ever present smile on his face whilst Remus approached you with slightly more caution.
“Not happy to see us?” Remus asked with a soft smirk across his face.
“I…well,”
Apparently your bumbling was particularly telling to your current mental state, if their furrowed brows and nervous glances to each other were anything to go by.
“No funny quip for us today? You’re not going to tell me that I look like something you could draw with your left hand?” James taunted.
“Go fuck yourself, Potter.” You said with half the amount of derision you’d intended.
“Why? You wanna watch him?” Remus asked.
Okay, everything you ever said about Remus being not as bad as his boyfriends?
Lies.
“For Salazar’s sake, L/N; you sure know how to pick ‘em, huh?” Avery sneered from behind you.
“Speak when you’re spoken to, fuck face.” You barked back.
Avery only scoffed in response.
“Hanging out with Baby Black and his crazy pet that follows him around wasn’t enough; you had to sully yourself with the likes of Gryffindor’s?” Mulciber continued for him.
“You know, I’d be mad too if I looked like someone who has fallen for every MLM scam known to mankind.” James spat; his face taking on a severity you’d never seen from the notoriously sunny-dispositioned boy.
You wondered what else you hadn’t seen from him.
You made a rather hasty and embarrassing retreat after that gave you some…inappropriate thoughts.
You’d been plagued with more Sights since then, having been avoiding them after more images of them fussing and fawning over you (and - perhaps more horrifyingly - you over them), and then out-and-out hiding from them after a particularly… steamy Sight you had.
“You cannot hide in the Slytherin common room forever, Treasure.” Barty sighed as he plopped down beside you on the couch and rested his head on your shoulder.
“Why not?”
“Because Regulus gave them the password to the common room.”
“He what!?” You shrieked as the door opened and in spilled three Gryffindors and one Slytherin.
“There you are, angel!” James cheered as he quickly made his way towards you.
Already with the pet names!?
“Did you really think you could hide from us, dollface?” Sirius winked as he and James took the settee across from you (causing a few younger year Slytherin’s to quickly vacate the area).
“Regulus, how could you?” You seethed at your now ex-friend.
“I’m tired of Barty bailing on me to hide out here with you. Also, I’m not a house elf and will no longer be bringing you your meals.”
You pouted at him before a surprised yelp left your lips as you were lifted up from your seat.
Remus took your place on the sofa and placed you in the space between his thighs.
“Lupin! What are you doing!?”
“Making your dreams come true, gorgeous.” Sirius answered for you.
“They’re not dreams, you absolute mumpsimus. They’re visions of the future.” Barty sneered.
“Even better then.” James continued as he now pulled a scowling Sirius into his side. “We’re starting our future together.”
“You told them!?” You asked Regulus disbelievingly.
“Well you weren’t going to.”
“That was the point!”
“Easy there, dove.” Remus whispered into your ear, causing a shiver to rack through you as your body traitorously melted further into Remus’ embrace.
The only way out of this was clearly going to be the death of you (via Remus’ smoothness, James’ loveliness, and Sirius’ boldness), their murders (at your hands), or stupidly drunk in love.
You weren’t sure which option was worse.
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#poly!marauders#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#james potter x reader#james potter x you#bartylus#regulus black#barty crouch jr#seer!reader#ellecdc fics
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MAD — AL-HAITHAM.
contents. alcohols consumption (drunk! al-haitham), post argument, fluff, ft. kaveh a real one for dragging home a heavy ass muscle man
al-haitham is good at holding his alcohol—at least, he is unless you’re in the middle of an argument. if you’re both arguing, then he seems much less likely to stay sober.
tonight for example—you open your bedroom door when kaveh (not so quietly) awakens you with his incessant knocking, grumbling under your breath as you reach for the door knob and twist. before you can even fully open the door, a very drunk and very heavy al-haitham is handed to you to hold steady.
“here, he’s your headache now,” kaveh huffs, crossing his arms, “i was supposed to be the heavy drinker of tonight,” he glares at al-haitham (who doesn’t help himself any further when he glares right back), “my day was far more stressful.”
“what draft are you on with this client?” you ask sympathetically.
kaveh flares his nostrils as he grumbles, “six!”
“maybe seven will be the charm,” you hum, chuckling, “i’ll get this headache of mine to bed.”
“please do,” he nods, “and i wish a terrible hangover on him in the morning too.”
with that, the door is shut, and you hear kaveh walk off and slam his as he grumbles some more about the drunk mess in your arms. at least you and kaveh have that much in common tonight—a shared irritation for the akademiya’s ever so charming scribe.
(truthfully, it’s hardly an accurate description at the moment—al-haitham’s charms are currently little to none after earlier.)
“you’re not doing yourself favors,” you turn your attention to you boyfriend, who stumbles a little as he buries his head into your neck. it’s a tad bit adorable—but then you remember the know-it-all attitude from earlier and decide you’re mad again. “disrupting my sleep for your lightweight habits isn’t a good way to apologize.”
“not a lightweight,” he slurs—and then he pulls away and pouts, “still mad?”
“yes.”
“are you sure?”
“very.”
“‘s not nice,” he huffs, burying his face back into your neck.
you can feel the way his lips are curled into a pout as they kiss your neck, and even though you’d like to say you have better self control, you can’t help but wrap your arms around him. it’s just to keep him from falling, you reason—just because you’re mad at him doesn’t mean you want him to potentially fall and break something, and that would only mean taking care of him more, which you do not need right now.
“you know what else wasn’t nice? telling me i’m wrong when i’m right,” you huff, “and then arguing that i’m wrong even though you know i’m right.”
“said i was sorry,” he almost whines—drunk al-haitham has at least a few perks. one of them is how much more affectionate he is, peppering kisses along your jaw until he finds your cheek. “you’re soft,” he hums, “love you.”
“you smell like beer. go to bed,” you grunt, trying (and failing) to pull away and guide him to the bed. you don’t make it two steps before he’s latched back to your body.
“say it back,” he gasps, “say it.”
“al-haitham,” you groan, “you can’t be serious—”
“haitham,” he corrects, “supposed to call me haitham.”
“would you like to sleep on the couch, haitham?” you ask with a dry smile on your face, eyes narrowed as he shakes his head. he tucks it into the crook of your neck, sighing happily as he inhales your scent.
“no, ‘s not good f’my back.”
“your back is the least of your concerns right now,” you mumble bitterly. “okay, let’s get you undressed.”
“you’re not mad?” he brightens up immediately at your words, taking them entirely out of context. his lips lean in to press against yours as his hands snake under your shirt, making you huff and slap his hands away as you turn your head and force his lips to meet your cheek.
“oh, i’m still very mad. don’t even think you’re getting anything tonight,” you scold.
for the nth time tonight, he pouts. and truthfully, you’re only human at the end of the day. if the akademiya’s usually stoic and composed scribe—who happens to be your equally as stoic and composed boyfriend—seems to pout this many times in one night….well, it would make anyone’s resolve crumble. even someone who’s angry after an argument—someone much like you.
“you’re a lot cuter when you’re drunk, you know that?” you giggle, poking his cheek lightly. he hums, nuzzling the tip of his nose against your skin as he leans more weight into you.
“aren’t i always cute?”
“not when you’re stubborn.”
“‘m cute,” he argues, “y’think ‘m cute, right?”
“no,” you grin, just to tease him. it’s a bit fun—pulling those wide eyes and curled lips from him, pulling that slightly crestfallen look that only a drunk al-haitham would let you witness.
it’s not too mean to let yourself indulge in this just once, is it?
“don’t be rude,” he slurs, “love you. say it back?”
“say please,” you tease, chuckling as your fingers thread through his hair.
he seems to brighten when you offer him a bit of affection, leaning into your touch as he sighs happily. “please,” he says politely, pressing a kiss to your skin before adding, “‘m sorry,” for good measure.
“how sorry?”
you plan on dragging this out for as long as you can—is it morally correct to take advantage of your drunk boyfriend? perhaps not….but no one is perfect, and you’re no exception.
“really sorry,” he mumbles, squeezing your hips.
“sorry enough to do the dishes for the week?”
“mhm,” he nods.
“kaveh’s too,” you add, with a satisfied grin on your face.
he nods, mumbling a quiet, “okay. kaveh’s too,” without question.
“how much do you love me?”
“a lot,” he says slowly, and by now, he’s leaning enough weight in you that you can tell he’ll fall asleep any moment. so you chuckle, pulling him along slowly before letting his body hit the mattress.
“this is my side of the bed,” you mutter with a roll of your eyes, but he doesn’t seem to hear you as he closes his eyes and sighs when your hand cups his cheek and rubs the warm, flushed skin. “do you love me more than you love being right?”
“mhm,” he hums, half awake as his eyes droop, “say it back now.”
“i love you too,” you finally crack, leaning in and kissing his lips briefly, “even if you’re rude and impossible.”
“‘m still cute,” he rebuttals, “right?”
“oh yes,” you giggle, “the cutest.”
“good,” he nods. and then his eyes close, and he’s snoring lightly, cheek still pressed against your hand.
you’re supposed to be mad, maybe even give him the silent treatment for a bit—but then you watch him sleep peacefully, the smallest of smiles pulling at his lips when your fingers thread through the sweaty locks of hair. regretfully, you can’t stay mad, not when it’s al-haitham—and especially not when it’s drunk al-haitham.
“you’re such a headache,” you mumble, kissing his forehead before joining him on the bed and tucking into his side.
and when he wakes up in the morning, with what is hopefully the awful hangover kaveh wished upon him, you’ll make sure to remind him of his agreement to do the dishes. kaveh’s too.
if u try to tell me al-haitham isn’t a clingy and affectionate drunk, ur wrong. he’s so babie after he drinks
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham fluff#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin fluff#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact x you#genshin impact x reader
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The demons’ reactions to Y/N asking them to fuck them (headcanons/short scenarios)
⚠️ As usual MDNI!!!
The MC can be whichever gender you want in this one. (Pretty sure I managed to keep it ambiguous?)
What follows are individual scenarios btw, it’s not MC asking every single one of them at the same time haha (I could write one like that as well though if people like this one? Not sure of how well it would turn out but I could.)
Anyway, enjoy 👇
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Lucifer
He could tell something was different right away. You’re not the type to be shy with them and particularly not him. Sometimes your blatant disrespect towards him is refreshing… sometimes it’s infuriating, and yet here you are now, shifting in place, fiddling with your hands and looking down nervously. It catches his attention right away.
"Is something wrong? Y/N, if something is troubling you, you can tell me. In fact, please do so freely."
"...lease …uck me."
"...Excuse me?"
Surely he heard wrong, no matter how honest you are, there’s no way you would ask something like that with no build up-
"Please, fuck me…"
"..."
Lucifer puts his hand over his mouth, trying to hide his delight in vain. He has always wondered how to go about it, what to plan, how to charm you and get you in the palm of his hands. To think that you would come marching right ahead, falling into his hands on your own just like that. He approaches you, taking you into his arms, feeling up your body against his.
"But of course, no need to be so shy about it. Shall we go upstairs Dear?"
Mammon
Mammon felt like something was a bit different about you tonight. You kept coming closer to him, more than usual, brushing over him, smiling at him in a special way. Were you seducing him? Because if you were, it was 100% effective! But well, wouldn't it be rude to point it out? What if you stop? What if it wasn’t on purpose? So he keeps quiet and you get more and more frustrated with his inaction until it explodes.
"...Don’t you want to fuck me?!"
"Wha- Yes?!?"
Thinking twice? He didn’t even think once. He was surprised for sure but when you ask for something like this, there’s only one correct answer to give. In a flash, he pounces on you.
"Anytime, anyday, whenever you want. Please only come to me Y/N…"
Leviathan
You were harder to handle today than you usually are. Leviathan is used to holding his breath when you hug him or kiss him on the cheek. He’s used to looking away when you bend down or shutting his eyes tight when your face gets too close. But today? Today was different. You kept clinging to him, not giving him any personal space. Constantly praising and teasing him. His heart had skipped at least eleven beats in total, and even that might still be an understatement. Levi ends up breaking, asking you outright if something is wrong.
"C-Could it be that you want something from me? Sorry, I really don’t know um, if uh. Well I just don’t understand where you're getting at."
You hold back the urge to facepalm, well, it’s not like you didn’t see it coming. Leviathan thinks that he’s so unattractive that no one, and especially not you, could ever want him.
You press yourself against him, circling your fingertips on his chest.
"Jeez, you really are an idiot sometimes Leviathan… I want to fuck you. You get it now?"
His third member rises immediately at the request while his mind is still buffering.
"Uhh?? Um, y-yeah? I mean, errr. Are you like, 100- no, 1000% sure? O-Out of all my brothers me??? Isn’t that um, of course I’m not judging but maybe I’m not-"
You kiss him on the corner of his lips, shutting him up.
"I only want you to fuck me, can you do that?"
"Y-Yes. Anything you want...! ♡"
Satan
There he was again, nose stuck in his books. However your perfume caught his attention right away. You always smell nice but this fragrance was different from your usual scent. It was more mature, more seductive, more… He looks up to you, even your clothes show more than usual. Your hairstyle is different as well. Are you going out? So then why did you come to him? He coughs.
"Excuse me for staring. You look very good. Is there a soirée tonight that I’m not aware of?"
You look to the side, a bit flustered. Without a word you sit next to him on the sofa, then you slide your hand on his knee, not daring to go up to his thigh yet.
"...Would you like to fuck me?"
"..."
Silence.
He’s processing your request, making sure he understands your intentions. After a couple of seconds that seemed to go on forever, Satan closes his book and leaves it on the table. Then he leans over you, encouraging your hand to go higher on his thighs.
"Well, since you asked so politely how could I ever turn you down, hm?"
Asmo
He can tell right away what you really want since he is the avatar of lust. However he lets it play out, curious to see how you’ll go about it. Will you be all shy and cute or will you be more confident? He enjoys seeing the gears turning in your head as you’re awkwardly holding your hands together, sweating from the pressure. However he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable when asking for something as wonderful as sex, especially with him since he is quite the fanatic.
"Relax your shoulders and breathe Y/N♡"
He places his hands on your shoulders, sliding them down your arms then going back up only to fall down again, on your back this time. He starts massaging you, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, making you comfortable and eager rather than nervous and scared.
"...Asmo?"
"Mh-hm?~"
"I’d like you to fuck me, is that okay?"
He stops, then pulls you over. Your back against his chest, he whispers his answer.
"What a coincidence, that’s what I’ve wanted to do to you since the very first time we met♡ How lucky that you asked for it first..."
Beel
Beel is devouring a rotisserie chicken in the kitchen… again. It seems like that’s all he does, everytime you want to find an appropriate moment to ask, well, it never is a good moment. You look at him, your spirits down, readying yourself to leave as usual. Surprisingly, he stops you and invites you to sit down.
"Y/N… Lately you always look sad when I see you. Would you like some? You know if you’re hungry you can always ask me to share."
"That’s not it Beel…"
You look down, discouraged from asking for it. All Beel always thinks and talks about is food anyway. Will he even care if you ask him something like that? Maybe he has no interest in such things, or in you.
Beel puts the food down, looking grim.
"Beel? What’s wrong…?"
"It’s difficult to enjoy the food when you look down, somehow even the taste turns foul when you’re sad."
Your chest feels tight at his words, maybe it would be good to just be honest and get it over with.
"Beel, truth is- Uhh. ... I want you to f-fuck me… But well, I can understand if you’re not interested in that sort of stuf-"
Beel’s eyes light up, his gaze stuck on you.
He takes you into his arms, carrying you out of the kitchen, heading up the stairs.
"B-Beel?!"
"That’s all you wanted? Should’ve said so earlier, I’ll finally be able to quench my hunger for a while."
Belphegor
You came to wake him as you do every morning, since you’re apparently the most skilled at this task according to the others. Still, some days it’s a challenge even for you. Like today for instance: he keeps complaining, bitching and moaning. You’d like to make this easy for the both of you but it’s complicated to keep finding different ways to encourage him to get up. Kisses, hugs, dates, and the exact same offers rarely work for over 3 times in a row. It pisses you off, could it be that he just got tired of you already?
You give up and lie down next to him, sulking and muttering.
"Asshole… What if I asked you to fuck me. Bet you wouldn’t even care, hm?"
Belphie’s eyes shot wide open, then he turned over to you. Extremely attentive to your every move and word.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Only good boys who get up at reasonable times have a right to have a go at me."
He clings onto you greedily, begging you to repeat.
"Come on, pleeease? I’ll get up right away if you ask for it."
"Nope, too late to smother me now."
He puts his hand on your waist, grabbing it firmly and pulling you towards him into the bed.
"...Please? I’ll make you feel so good you’ll be the one to ask to stay in bed."
You ponder it for a bit… Well. Truthfully, you do want him so- Shyly, you ask him.
"Mh. Then um. Will you fuck me good…?"
You feel him smile against your neck, and he answers.
"I promise I won’t let you go until you’re completely satisfied with me. ♡"
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Doneee.
And my askbox is open just so y’all know, no promises on anything but do know that anything you send will definitely be seen/read even if I might not be able to answer to everything! I don’t know if I can say that my "commissions" are open but if you send me ideas and I like them, there is a chance I might write some stuff based on them 🫰
#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me smut#om! leviathan#om! belphie#om! satan#om! beelzebub#om! lucifer#om! mammon#om! asmodeus#obey me!#reader#y/n#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios#hanaruri writes
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Ch1: New Beginnings
teacher!reader x student's dad!Frankie Morales || W/C: 8.8k
Ch. Summary: Frankie gets introduced to a new opportunity for his daughter, Elena. You get introduced to your new job. In celebration of these new beginnings, you both set out to a night at the bar, completely unaware that your paths are about to cross.
Content/Warnings: F!reader (she/her), female sex anatomy, reader is able-bodied. No physical descriptions of reader. Slight description of reader’s outfit (no size descriptions). Tío Santi (& TF Miller boys) makes an appearance. Slight implication reader understands some Spanish. Going out to bar/consumption of alcohol. Flirting. POV switch, mainly Frankie this chapter. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Sexual activity while under the influence of alcohol (you've slowed down your alcohol intake by that point, though). “Author Chose Not to Apply Archive Warnings” because it may result in spoilers (but there’s smut here…).
A/N: thank you to @honeyedmiller for proof-reading this for me, and thank you to @javierpena-inatacvest for peer pressuring me into giving my little idea an actual chance. I love love love you both sm🩶 to everyone, I truly hope you enjoy!! All my love xx
series masterlist || main masterlist || updates blog
August 2024
“Thank you so much for coming in, Mr. Morales.”
“It’s no problem at all, Mrs. Adams, is- is, um, is everything okay? Is Elena doing alright?” Frankie asks the second grade teacher, concerned.
The school year hasn’t started yet, but from time to time, the school does accelerated summer sessions that last a few weeks up until the actual start date of the school year. Elena always attends these sessions, begging her dad every summer to sign her up for one because I need to learn more! she’d tell him. How could he deny her the chance to expand that beautiful mind of hers?
“Oh, yes, everything is good! Elena is wonderful, and that’s actually why I asked you to come in,” she states. “Are you aware of how smart that girl is?”
Frankie can’t help the cheesy grin that spreads across his face. “Yeah, she’s always too excited to show me her progress reports and report cards, always pulling them out before we even leave the parking lot at the end of her days,” he beams.
“Oh, I bet. She blows me away everyday, that girl,” Mrs. Adams says genuinely. “So much so that I actually think she shouldn’t be attending here anymore,” the teacher adds, softer than the rest of her previous statements.
Frankie’s eyebrows twist in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Well, don’t get me wrong, I love having Elena, and everyone in this school loves her, too. She’s one of our brightest. But,” she sighs. “She is so damn smart, Mr. Morales. I’d go as far as to say she’s a prodigy.”
“Oh,” Frankie says, pleasantly surprised and confused. He still doesn’t know where she’s getting at. He tells her as much.
“What I’m trying to say is- Elena isn’t getting the proper brain stimulation someone of her level needs. She needs to go somewhere that will increase her levels at the fast rate she’s moving and somewhere that will stimulate the creative parts of her brain. Traditional public school—at least here—cannot provide her with that.”
Frankie has always known his daughter’s natural intelligence. She often comes home either excited because they worked on a topic she’s really good at, or she comes home really bored and exhausted—because they worked on a topic she’s really good at. It’s too repetitive for her, but he wasn’t sure what other options he had.
Frankie takes a moment to think. “Even if I did move her to a school that has all this, it sounds like it would cost a lot of money. Money that I unfortunately don’t have right now,” he says with a heavy breath.
Mrs. Adams’ smile grows ten times bigger. “Mr. Morales-”
“Frankie, please,” he corrects.
“Frankie, there’s a school for the gifted connected to our local university just a few miles down the way. I used to work there, and I have friends there. Please forgive me if I’ve overstepped, but I’ve spoken to the Director of Admissions. There’s a waitlist, and barely any get admitted—and it’s by semester, so you’ll have to keep up with re-enrolling her—but I told them all about Elena. They want her, Frankie. No waitlist. No tuition. They want her for this new semester. And I really think you should go for it.”
Frankie sits in Mrs. Adams’ office, utterly stunned. He’s sure his jaw is on the floor right now, eyes bugged out like those squeezable stress toys. “I- I don’t know what to say…” Frankie trails off.
“I know it’s a big step,” the teacher comforts. “But think about it.” She pulls out a card from her desk and hands it to him. “Here’s the director’s card. I’ll reach out to them to make sure they know to expect your call.”
Frankie knows this is a good thing. He knows these are once in a lifetime opportunities, and he knows if he goes through with this now, those rare opportunities won’t be so rare for her as she gets older. That’s all he wants for his daughter; nothing but opportunity and the right kind of challenges meant to help her grow as a person.
So why does he feel so nervous? He’s dealt with change before, and he’s dealt with last-minute, under pressure change up in the sky where his life could’ve been on the line—but nothing compares to the anxiety when it involves Elena. Since she was born, she is all he’s ever known. It’s been him and her against the world, and although some days are more difficult than others doing this parenting thing alone, Frankie wouldn’t have it any other way.
He gives Mrs. Adams his thank yous and goodbyes, and makes his way to the front office. It’s 12 o’ clock right now—recess time—but he wouldn’t doubt she’s propped up against a pillar with her nose in a book. He decides to check Elena out early and take her to go get dessert.
“She’ll be escorted here in a few minutes,” the front desk lady tells him.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Frankie says, resting his back against the wall.
A few minutes pass and the office’s door bursts open with the heartwarming sounds of his daughter’s giggles, an excited aura filling the room. “¡Papi!” she squeals, immediately wrapping her arms around the parts of her father she can reach.
“¡Mija!” he says, matching her energy, pulling her in for a tight squeeze. He kneels down to reach her level, placing a kiss on her forehead before he speaks. “Wanna go get dessert?”
Her eyes light up like a million stars. “Please!!” she replies, her entire body shaking in Frankie’s grasp.
Frankie picks her up, and they make their way to the car. Buckling her into her car seat, Frankie settles himself to the driver’s seat and asks the burning question before he pulls off. “Brownie sundae spot or-”
“BROWNIE!” Elena replies immediately. Frankie has to slap his mouth to stop from the uncontrollable laughter bubbling out from his chest. He knew what her answer would be. “Okay, mija, brownie spot it is.”
Their usual brownie sundae spot is in a little diner up the street from their house. Frankie began this little tradition as a way to celebrate Elena’s wins and milestones. The first milestone they celebrated was for her first word: airplane. Frankie was ecstatic, practically jumping up and down with Elena in his arms until his best friend, Santiago, had to calm him down. “Ay, tranquilo, tranquilo,” relax, relax, he said, holding his hands softly around Elena’s little head.
Today’s milestone, however, is much bigger than any they’ve celebrated, and the notion is not lost on little Elena.
“Papi,” she calls. “Are we celebrating something?”
Frankie chuckles to himself, loving how easily she can put things together. “We might be, mi amorcito.”
“Hm?” She hums, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted to the side as she settles into the booth seat, sitting across from her dad.
Their usual waiter comes before they can continue their conversation. “Hey, guys! The usual?”
Elena answers first, very excitedly. “YES, YES, BROWNIE SUNDAE!!!” She squeals as she elongates every syllable. Frankie confirms with a head nod as he chuckles at her energy.
“What’s the occasion?” The waiter says softer, directing the question to Frankie.
“We’ll see after I talk with this little lady,” Frankie tells the waiter, extending his long arm out to pinch Elena’s little cheek.
The waiter smiles and walks off, putting the order in with the kitchen and asking for a little bit of a delay to give Frankie enough time to talk things through with his daughter.
“So,” Frankie states.
“So,” his daughter mirrors, putting on her best serious face while fighting the huge grin that wants to break free.
“Do you know how smart you are, mija?” Frankie asks, smiling because he knows what she’s gonna say. Duh, papi, he thinks in his head.
“Duh, papi!” She says, a troublemaking giggle she’s had since her babbling stages echoes their little corner of the diner.
“Alright, little smart ah-” Frankie coughs to stop his mouth. “You little smarty pants,” he corrects himself.
“Daddy, were you about to call me a smartass?” She scolds.
His cheeks flush a bright red. “You spend too much time with Tío Santi,” he deadpans.
She hums, nodding her head triumphantly.
“Anyway,” he says, noting in his mind to scold Santi for his mouth around his little girl. “You’re so smart, mija, I was wondering… well, I was wondering if you feel like you’re actually learning?”
“What do you mean, papi?”
“Well, everything you’ve been learning so far is super easy for you, isn’t it?”
She ponders for a moment. “Yeah, it’s easy,” she confirms.
“Does it ever make you bored, how easy some days are?”
“A little, yeah,” she says a little softer. “But it’s okay because I end up helping my friends, and Mrs. Adams tells me I’m her assistant,” she giggles with pride.
“You’re too good, amor,” he chuckles. “But what if I told you,” he starts. Immediately, her interest is piqued. “A really fancy, really smart school heard about how smart you are?”
Her chocolate brown eyes widen, and her little jaw drops. “Me?! Really?!”
“Yes, baby!” Frankie can feel his excitement rising alongside hers, his initial nervousness fading just as quick. “And what if I told you they want you to go to their school?” Elena’s hands fly to her mouth, suppressing her squeals of joy. Frankie can hear her legs kicking back and forth underneath the table. “Would you wanna go, mi niña inteligente (my smart girl)?”
“So… I’ll learn harder things?” She asks.
“Yes,” he swallows thickly. Frankie thinks she’s having anxiety.
It’s not. “Then…” She settles for her usual diva answer. “Duh, papi!” She giggles, positively radiating pure excitement on this new journey she’s about to embark on.
She wiggles out of her side of the booth to crash into her father’s arms, pulling him into the tightest hug ever. As she pulls away and settles next to Frankie, the waiter comes out with the sundae, Congratulations! written in cursive on the side of the plate. Elena reads the message with ease, scooping up the red icing with her finger and licking it up. “Thank you!!” She exclaims to the waiter who murmurs a sweet smartest person I know with a ruffle to her curly head of hair.
The waiter looks at Frankie with a genuine smile, and Frankie returns it. This diner really has been there for all the Morales’ family wins. Frankie wonders what other miracles just might happen in this little building.
For the first time in your teaching career, you are nervous.
You’ve dealt with gifted children before, and you had no problems juggling public school and the extra side lessons you’d give to the occasional gifted child. People tend to underestimate the amount of prodigal children in the world due to the constant brushing off these adults like to give to developing humans. These little children deserve as much respect and care that any other human deserves, maybe even more. The children are our future, after all.
So, now that you’re starting a new job, in a school dedicated to your life’s passion—yeah, you’re pretty nervous.
This school was created by the state’s local university; it was their attempt at providing children with an enriching, stimulating environment that the typical school system couldn’t care enough to provide, and their attempt was an absolute success. It will take a little while to get themselves off their feet, so tuition and enrolling students is expensive compared to what you would pay for your child in the public education system.
However, with time and careful planning, the program’s ultimate goal is to adequately provide to childrens of all needs—regardless of their prodigal status—for little to no cost. It’s definitely an ambitious goal, but it’s one you’re absolutely ready and willing to stick around for.
You were hired this summer, August 1st to be exact. The principal—Ms. Sabatino—caught wind of the powerhouse of a teacher who goes above and beyond for her students, and she just had to have you on her team. Your interview wasn’t even a real interview: it was exchanging logistical information and showing you to your new home base, your new classroom. She told you if you wanted to take the time before the year officially started to make your classroom feel more like you, you could.
It took you about a week to settle the vibe of your classroom, and during your preparations, you met a few other teachers, instantly hitting it off with each other that they invited you to their “semester pregame,” they called it.
“You have to come, Ms. Powerhouse!” Ms. Smith—Linda, she corrected you—exclaimed.
“Powerhouse?!” You repeated, a little frightened. You knew coming in that the culture here was very tight-knit, but how fast does word really spread around here?
“Yeah, you powerhouse, you!” Mr. White—Blake—chimes in. “You’re all anyone is talking about! Honestly, we’ve been dying to meet you.”
And lastly, Ms. Marshall—Leah—joins in. “You’re a real legend, ya know that, don’t you? Sticking to the Rebel theme we got going on here,” she smirks, referring to their school’s mascot, the Rebels.
You flush under all their praise. “I really don’t know what you guys are talking about,” you say softly. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for our kiddos, like any of us would.” A proud smile graces your face, and not for the things you’ve done, but for the amazing students you’ve had the honor of meeting and teaching. There truly isn’t a better feeling.
The three teachers share a knowing look, the one that tells you they think you’re just trying to be humble. Their hums of secret agreement don’t escape your super-teacher hearing.
Ms. Marshall is the one to speak again. “Are you going to come though? We really would love to have you. We’ve been trying to find someone who can hold their alcohol better than Mr. Lightweight here can,” she cackles, pointing over to Mr. White, who now has an offended look on his face.
“I’ll have you know-” he starts. “Oh, Blake, enough with the excuses already!” Ms. Smith cuts him off.
You giggle at their banter, your apprehensiveness about this little squad slowly melting away. “I’m afraid if you’re looking for someone who can hold their own, that person is not me…but I would absolutely love to join you guys. When and where is this pregame?”
“YAAASSSSSS!” Ms. Smith is quick to squeal. She’s definitely the life of the party with these three. “We have it the Saturday before the semester starts! So, the 17th I believe. It’s a bit risky depending on how plastered we end up getting, but it’s all a part of the fun,” she says with a wink.
You reach for your phone in your back pocket, unlocking and letting your three new friends put their phone numbers in. You group text them so they have your number, too. “Perfect! I can’t wait,” you say sheepishly, your excitement slowly rising as their smiles begin to mirror your own. It’s been a while since you let yourself go and get lost in something else other than work, and you think this little pregame is exactly what you’ve been needing.
“Oh, come on, Fish! You have to come out with us!” Santi tells you, giving Frankie’s shoulder a punch of encouragement.
Frankie hisses at the impact, swatting Santi’s hand away with a scowl. “No.”
“Fish,” Santi reasons. “The Millers haven’t seen you in a hot minute since my ‘Lena girl was born, man. They miss you. Especially Benny, you know how sensitive that man gets. And! We need to celebrate this new chapter for you and ‘Lena!”
“We already celebrated,” Frankie corrects. “At the diner.”
“An adult celebration, Fish. When was the last time you let yourself go?”
Frankie sighs. Santi’s right. “Who would watch Elena?”
“I already spoke with Yavonna last night,” Santi says, a tinge of hope laced in his voice.
“Let me talk to Elena-”
“Fish, she’ll be fine-”
Frankie holds his hand out to signal Santi to shut up. “Let me talk to Elena,” he repeats, “and let her know our plans for tomorrow night. You know I don’t do anything without running it through with her first.”
Santi’s face is happier than a toddler getting ice cream for breakfast. He claps him on his shoulder, “Fuck yeah, man! Frontier boys back at it again!”
Frankie grimaces. “Pope, cállate, por favor,” shut up, please, he says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he kicks Santi out for the night.
“Tell ‘Lena Tío Santi says buenas noches (good night) please since her daddy likes to kick me out so soon,” Santi taunts, a fake offended look on his face.
“No,” Frankie says. Then he shuts the door.
Frankie lets a few moments pass to make sure Santi was out of sight before he calls out to his daughter. “Baby, tío Santi wishes you good night!”
Elena comes running down the stairs. “He left already?!”
“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” Frankie frowns, meeting her at the end of the stairs to kiss her forehead.
“It’s okay,” she says. “You kicked him out again, didn’t you, daddy?”
“Y-yeah, yeah I did,” Frankie stutters. There’s no lying to this little Einstein.
“Hey, baby?” Frankie says again, crouching down to his knees to meet her level. “Do you remember Yavonna? Tío Santi’s girlfriend?”
Her gears turn before recognition sparks in her eyes. “Yeah!”
“Well, would you be okay if papi went out tomorrow? And you and Yavonna have a girls’ night?” He asks.
Elena’s smile turns mischievous as she pulls her dad in for a hug, whispering in his ear. “Are you going on a date?”
“Mmm, tío Santi is nice and all, but he’s too much a pain in my ass for me to wanna go on a date with him,” he retorts. “So, no, no date. Just spending some time with your annoying uncle and some of our other old friends.”
“Oh, okay,” Elena says as she giggles. “Have fun, papi!”
“I will, baby, thank you,” he says, pulling her into one last hug before they both venture off to bed.
It’s Monday morning, one week before the semester starts, and Frankie is buzzing. He’s nervous and excited for his daughter, but he can tell this new environment is one that gets heavily involved—in both the child and the guardian’s life.
He’ll do anything for Elena, of course, and it isn’t like he wasn’t involved at her old school. But this one makes it feel like he’s also attending this place. The thought terrifies his socially anxious heart.
He puts his car in park and practices a few breathing exercises before he gets out. He has a meeting with the principal today—Ms. Sabatino?, he tries to remember. This meeting is for her to finally get to know him, and for the paperwork to get finalized. And because they aren’t charging him for this semester, he also needs to fill out some waivers.
He makes his way to her office, checking in at the front desk and waiting to be pulled back. His hand fidgets at his side, the nerves getting to him again.
“Mr. Morales?” A voice calls out, pulling him from his nerves. “Ms. Sabatino is ready for you, first door to your left.”
“Thank you,” he replies. He softly knocks on the door before entering.
“Mr. Morales! Come in, come in!” Ms. Sabatino waves him over. “Sit, make yourself comfortable! It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you as well, ma’am, and please, just Frankie is good,” he tells her, a slight shyness in his voice and demeanor.
“Okay then, Frankie,” she smiles. “Let’s see here,” she says, squinting to her computer. “Do you have the enrollment forms?”
“Yes, right here,” Frankie sets the folder in front of her.
“Perfect, thank you,” she replies. “Here, you fill these waiver forms out that we talked about while I upload your forms in for Elena’s profile.”
Frankie mutters a quick okay, sounds good, before Ms. Sabatino speaks again. “While we get through these formalities though, did you have any questions for me? About the program, the teachers, literally anything at all besides what the meaning of life is?” she tries to joke, sensing Frankie’s anxiety.
Mrs. Adams already gave him the rundown of this place, but the financial conversation has been clouding his mind since he first found out about this place. “Well, actually, yes, I wanted to talk to you about the cost,” he starts.
“The cost is no issue, I promise you,” she reassures. But it’s not that. Although Frankie has major social anxiety, he’ll be damned if he comes off as a freeloader—even though absolutely no one here views him that way.
“No, I understand, but it’s more so that-” he pauses, taking a deep breath before he tries again. “I’m a single dad. I’m the one catering for both Elena and I. We’re not very well off, but we’re also not entirely poor. Just enough to…not really afford this place,” he shakes his head, he’s rambling. “Anyway- sorry. What I’m trying to say is, money isn’t an issue, but I can’t just sit here and not do anything to pay you guys back, even if it isn’t in a monetary sense.”
This piques the principal’s interest. She nods her head, taking a moment to measure her response. The computer pings as she thinks to herself, signaling that it’s done uploading the forms. She hands Frankie the folder back. He takes it, handing her the completed waiver. “I respect it,” she finally states. “A lot.”
“Y-yeah,” he says, not really sure how to respond to that.
Ms. Sabatino spins in her chair, pausing towards a drawer underneath her desk. She pulls out a little booklet of some sort.
“I have one idea,” she offers.
Frankie’s ears perch up. “Yeah? Anything,” he replies.
“It’s a lot to ask of a parent,” she says. “And I know you’re eager, but hear me out before you agree. And if you’d like to say no, then say no, that’s all I ask.”
“Deal,” Frankie tells her.
“So, last semester, the head of our PTA—the Parent-Teacher Association—quit on us. She quit and also unenrolled her child. Some weird drama, it was very unavoidable if she knew how to communicate properly… anyway, we are actually in need of a new head. I will admit, it’s a lot, but you’ll have me by your side, and I know a few of the parents would help show you the ropes and help you with anything you need.”
Out of everything, Frankie was not expecting this. It’s evident in the shocked look on his face.
“Like I said, I don’t need an answer right now-”
“What about the existing PTA parents?” Frankie blurts out. He may have not been PTA-level involved with his daughter, but he knows the seriousness in which parents take their roles when it comes to this.
“I appoint the head, and choosing one out of all of them would… to be frank… be a bloodbath. This PTA needs a fresh face. A new perspective. I can tell you’re nervous, but I can also tell you’re ambitious. I can tell you’d do anything for your daughter first and foremost. That is what my PTA needs. The rest of those parents- God- I love them, but they’re more worried about looking good and their brownie points with me than their kids’ experiences.”
If Frankie was unsure before, he definitely isn’t now. All he wants is the best for his daughter, and honestly, it makes him disappointed to hear where these parents’ priorities are. He’s absolutely scared shitless about doing this, but he can’t stop the next words that come out of his mouth. “I’ll do it.”
Her eyebrows fly up. “Are you sure?”
He isn't, he thinks. “Yes,” he tells her.
“Oh- okay, then,” Ms. Sabatino smiles bigger than before. She picks up the booklet from earlier and hands it to Frankie. “Read this over- they’re just some little rules we’ve established to keep the environment thriving for our kids. We’ve never had any issues before…besides last semester… but yeah, it’s just a precautionary measure. Thank you so much again, Frankie, and please if it does get too much, do not hesitate to let me know if you’d like to quit.”
He looks down to the book in his hand. The Rebels Guide - PTA Addition. He’s definitely not cut out for this. “Thank you, Ms. Sabatino. I’ll let you know. And I really appreciate you considering me for this. You have a good rest of your day,” Frankie says as he exits.
What the fuck am I doing? He thinks to himself as he gets himself into his car.
The rule book stares at Frankie as he drives. Stopped at a red light, he decides to place it in the glove compartment of his car. He’ll grab it later. For now, he needs it out of his view before he spirals.
Saturday, August 17th. Semester Pregame Day.
You’re in the middle of picking out your outfit when a flood of texts come through your phone.
[5:47PM Linda] You bitches ready?!
[5:48PM Leah] I’ve been ready, just waiting on Mr. Lightweight to get here…
[5:48PM Blake] Yeah okay, I’m not giving you a ride anymore, good luck.
[5:49PM Leah] Blake, I’m kidding, get your ass over here.
[5:49PM Blake] I’ve been outside, smartass.
[5:53PM Leah] Linda, we’re on the way to you. Ms. Powerhouse, are you sure you don’t want a ride?
[5:55PM] Please do not call me that.. And yes, I’m sure! I’m still picking out what I’m gonna wear to be honest. I think I’m gonna be a few minutes late.
[5:56PM Linda] OOOOO GIRL ARE YOU TRYING TO GET LAID?
[5:57PM Leah] 👀
[5:57PM Leah] Blake is driving, but he also would like to say: 👀
[5:58PM] Umm. No. I can’t make myself look nice for my friends?
[5:58PM Linda] In this world? Not without a motif, no.
[5:59PM] Wow.
[5:59PM] Okay, I’ve gotta finish getting ready. See you guys in a bit.
You toss your phone on your bed, not wanting to make yourself any later than you already are. They are right, you don’t necessarily have to get all dressed up. And it’s not like you’re getting laid anytime soon, let alone tonight. Right? Gosh, it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had any action. Well, okay, if you count your trustee wand, then it’s been about an hour since you’ve got some… but human interaction? Yeah, no.
You shake away the deprived thoughts your new friends planted in your brain settling for a sage green tank top with a lace lining at your chest. Something casual yet not too casual, slightly flashy but not too flashy. And since it’s in the middle of August, you decide on some black jean shorts.
It’s 6:15 by the time you head in your car. They wanted to get there around 6:30, so you’re not too far behind after all. It definitely helps that the bar they chose was a seven minute drive.
When you enter the bar, you spot the trio immediately, huddled by a tall table, all already cheering with shots. Linda spots you with a squeal, sending Leah to grab another round with a fourth shot this time.
With the mischievous party glint in her eyes, already you can tell what kind of night you’re going to have. One that makes you think maybe you should’ve caught a ride.
The first shot goes down roughly, an immediate fiery burn sliding down your throat as Linda shoves a lime in your mouth afterwards. “Tequiiilllaaaa shootttsss!!” She sings, already on her fourth to your first.
The second and third round slides down much smoother, your entire body beginning to heat up from its effects. Tequila has always had a fast effect on you, making you buzzed after one shot and effectively fucking you up after the third. Maybe you were a lightweight. Nonetheless, you indulge in one more peer-pressured round from Linda before you settle on a sugary sweet mixed drink paired with a glass of ice cold water.
Linda disappears to the small dance floor while Blake convinces the people at the pool table to let him join. It’s just you and Leah at the table now, talking here and there, but mainly just watching the other two have their fun from afar.
“So how long have you guys been doing this?” You shout over the loud music. Once the clock hit 7pm, the music was definitely hitting the threshold for ear damage.
Leah looks at you with a genuine smile. She’s content watching her friends be social butterflies. She has them in her presence and that’s all that matters. “We’ve been doing this for a few years now, really. Linda was at the school first, then I got hired a semester after her. Then Blake got hired a semester after me. And because we were all relatively new, we all just sort of- gravitated towards each other,” she explains. “I don’t know what I’d do without them, honestly. In and outside of the school, those two are very important in my life,” she breathes in a sniffle, quiet enough to go unheard, but since you’re watching her, you catch it in combination with a tear she sneakily wipes away.
It’s your turn for your eyes to gloss up. “That’s really beautiful,” you tell her.
Leah laughs a little. “Yeah. But don’t tell them though. I’ll have to strangle you,” she says in a mock sternness. Weirdly enough, you think there’s truth behind that.
You pull your hands up in a surrendering motion, “Promise,” you respond with a smirk. “I’m gonna go get another drink. Want?”
“What are you getting?”
“Was honestly just gonna sip on beer and water the rest of the night. I’m tapped out.”
“Me too,” she grins. “I’ll get what you get.”
Making your way up to the bartender, you politely wait until she comes up to you. “What can I get you, doll?”
“Two beers, please, and also two waters, but can you give me the waters after I set the beers down at my table?” you ask a little shyly.
The bartender gives you a sweet smile. “I got you, honey.”
She hands you the beers, and you make your way to Leah. “I gotta grab the waters real fast, give me one second,” you say, already whipping around and making your way back.
In that short span of time, the bartender was met with a crowd of needy newly aged adults, swarming her with requests. She looks at you, but you give her a nod, signaling it’s okay.
Two minutes, she mouths.
You sit down on the stool in front of you while you wait, turning to check on Leah. Her eyes are back on her friends, a warmth radiating from her smile. Only now, you’re a part of her rotation, and the warmth is reciprocated to you, too. And to think you were hesitant with this bunch.
As you sit and wait for the bartender, a group of four rowdy men take up the bar space beside you. One of them even bumps into your side, and you’re quick to jump. “Hey, watch it!” You yell over the noise.
A large hand grabs onto the guy’s shoulder and pulls him away from you. The bar is loud, but it doesn’t stop his deep gruff from blessing your ears. “Benny, watch where you’re fucking going, man!”
“Oh, shit,” the tall, lean man turns to you. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention..” he starts. You can feel the man fight for his life to stay on your eyes. He darts to your lips for a millisecond before he brings them back up. “Can I… Let me buy you a drink? To apologize?” He smirks like he just pulled the smoothest flirt attempt ever. Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, but before you can say anything, the large hand from earlier is pulling the man—Benny, apparently—away from you and to the other end where their other friends are. “Pendejo,” he mutters under his breath towards his friend.
You stifle a giggle. The man, your savior, finally actually looks at you, and at first he was going to ask if you understood what he said, but the moment your eyes meet, it’s like all the airflow was vacuumed clean out of his lungs, leaving him mentally gasping like a fish out of water. Physically, though, he keeps it cool. Or, at least, tries to.
“Hi- uh, I’m- I’m Frankie- look, I’m real sorry about my friend back there, he can be real stupid sometimes,” he mutters, his rosy cheeks bright on display, no alcohol to blame it on.
As he rambles, only then are you able to get a good look at this man—at Frankie, he calls himself. A baseball cap sits on his head, hiding what you can make out as curly hair. The dim light of the bar ruins your view slightly, but you are both near the warm light that emanates from the side of the bar, so your view is not completely obstructed. You can see beautiful brown, puppy dog eyes with a pretty scruff that grows haphazardly across his cheeks and jaw, and above his lip, too.
“Don’t worry about it, Frankie,” you manage as you look up at him. He’s still standing. You’re sitting on an elevated bar seat, and you still have to crane your neck. Good lord, he’s tall. You introduce yourself with a smile, holding your hand out for him to take. You have to fight your body not to shudder at the warmth of his hand.
Little do you know, he’s also fighting the same battle as you.
“Can I get you a drink, Frankie?” you ask. Usually you’d never do this, but there is just something about him. You need to know more.
“Uh,” you see him flush, an internal battle going on in his brain. Is it the battle of the so-called bro-code where he can’t hit on you because his friend did or because he should be offering you a drink?
He looks back to his friend. Yup, the bro-code. You quirk your brow at him.
“Yeah, okay,” he says with a grin as he perches himself to the bar seat beside you. “I’ll have a beer,” he tells you.
“Coming right up,” you smirk, winking at him before you try and regain the bartender’s attention.
You text Leah a quick I’m sorry, to which she replies with the eyes emoji again along with a winky face. Of course she saw everything.
The bartender comes to you and apologizes for earlier with the other group and then apologizes again when she admits she completely forgot to come back to you. She tells you this round of beers for you and Frankie are on the house. You try to tip her, but she doesn’t accept.
Frankie is really nice. Really handsome…and sexy…but you try to ignore the heat tingling between your legs because of the fact that Frankie is really nice.
As your two beers listen in on your conversation, untouched and sweaty, you’ve come to learn a good amount about Frankie. Like the fact that he’s a bashful boy, but you can tell he has no problem getting what he wants when the confidence strikes him. You’ve been witness to it a few times tonight—a hand on your knee there, a tucking of your hair behind your ear here, a long glance at your lips as you lick the residual drip of your drink—and it does nothing to calm your core’s ache.
The one that really sent you over the edge though was when he made you laugh particularly hard, your reaction was to lean into him. He took the opportunity to grab onto your seat and pull you against him, his thick highs entrapping both of yours.
“Oh-!” you gasp involuntarily, your eyes immediately searching for his. His gaze is dark, and so is yours.
Although quite nervous, Frankie’s confidence has spiked being in your presence. His thumb and forefinger come up to your chin, steadying and making your heartbeat erratic all in one. He leans closer in, the tips of each of your noses a hair’s width away. “You’re intoxicating,” he whispers.
“I could say the same thing about you,” you whisper back, feeling lightheaded and not from the alcohol coursing through your veins. “Been dying for you to touch me since you pulled your friend away,” you admit.
You see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He looks past you, eyeing the single stall bathroom. You scanned the place earlier, you know where he’s looking. Tapping his thigh for him to look at you again, you give him a look of understanding before you break away from his grasp.
He faces the bar again, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He catches Santi and the Millers staring at him from the pool table they took over. Santi shoots Frankie a wink while Benny looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the curb. Frankie really couldn’t care less right now.
Satisfied with the little window of time he gave, he stands from his seat, taking one more swig of beer before he makes his way to you. He knocks on the door softly, and you open it right away, pulling him in and immediately shutting it again.
Like a calculated dance, his hand goes back to lock the door while your hand grasps onto the fabric of his shirt at his chest, pulling his body flush against yours. Your hands take their time in coasting the plain of his broad chest and shoulders. Your thighs clench at the sensation.
His lips meet yours for the first time tonight, and he can feel every nerve in his body spark with electricity. Your lingering taste of all the drinks you had this evening mixed with a flavor he thinks is distinctly you consumes each of his senses.
Oh, you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you don’t even know it yet.
He walks forward, backing you into the bathroom sink.
You hop up on your own, your legs spreading without any forethought for his broad form. His hands coast the expanse of your body, settling at your ass on the counter as he pulls you tighter into his body, your center coming into contact with this hardness. He practically growls into your mouth at the heat he feels radiating from you.
“Fuck, querida,” he moans, his teeth chasing your bottom lip.
“Frankie,” you beg. For what, you’re not entirely sure.
“Can I taste you?” He breathes heavily against your lips, fingers twitching to take action.
Fuck. “Ye- yeah- yeah, okay,” you stutter, eyes wide. Getting eaten out probably has to be one of your favorite things in the whole world, yet, with your dating history, it’s a rare occurrence. Your last boyfriend was disgusted by it, and your last girlfriend ended up cheating on you. So. Your experience of receiving oral was rare, and God did you miss it.
Frankie mistakes your surprise as fear. “Are- are you sure? I don’t have to, not if you’re not comfortable,” he says sincerely. He starts to pull away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re quick to grab onto him.
“No, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I-” you laugh a little breathlessly before looking into his soft eyes again. “Yes, Frankie, please. Please, I want your mouth on me,” you say, tone a little needy on the backend. “You just took me by surprise, is all,” you whisper.
“Surprise?” He can’t stop his curiosity.
“I- I don’t know, guys don’t usually like-”
You don’t get to finish your statement before Frankie’s face turns angry. He places a heady kiss to your lips before he brings his mouth down your jaw, your neck. “So what you’re saying is,” he starts, his breath tickling your neck. If you weren’t propped up on the counter, you’d be on the floor with how weak your legs feel. Making his way down, he places a soft kiss in between your breasts. “This pretty little thing hasn’t been treated properly in a long, long time?” He asks as he kneels down, his eyes looking up and devouring you in your entirety.
“How do you even know she’s pretty?” You quip back, matching his energy.
“Oh, I know she’s fucking gorgeous based on the rest of you,” he purrs, fingers working your button and zipper. He hooks his fingers at the waist, and you lift your hips to help him.
“You flatter me,” you shakily say as you try to tease, your resolve starting to break.
Frankie smirks up at you before his entire demeanor changes upon seeding your exposed lower half. His face falls into astonishment, as if he just won the damn lottery, as if his last fucking meal was just placed in front of him. “What’d I say?” He mutters to himself. “Fucking gorgeous,” he answers his own question before he gives you no time to respond as he dives right in, the flat of his tongue licking a slow wide stripe up your glistening went cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” a loud moan leaves you, your head falling back as you relish in the immediate pleasure that shoots up your spine.
Frankie reluctantly breaks away to look at you, to check up on you, but your body is still shocked from the pleasure, and he grins, cheeks full of mischief. He hums to himself before he goes back in. “Fucking delicious, too.”
“Jesus, shit-” you murmur, trying to brace yourself for what you know is going to utterly ruin you.
He licks through your folds once more, slow and steady, calculated, measuring every small twitch and whimper that your body produces. His tongue moves up to your clit, circling around the area reveling in the way your breathing speeds up and your hips buck. Even with your movements chasing for more, he remains steadfast in his ministrations.
He continues his tease until he hears you huff. You’re getting impatient. “Baby, please,” you whine. “Please don’t tease,” you pout at him then, and whether it’s real or a ploy to get him to give in, how can Frankie say no to that face?
Without lifting from your cunt, Frankie switches from slow passes around your bud to attaching directly on it, suckling and flicking the sharp tip of his tongue across you. Your legs writhe under his expert touch, your hand flying to the baseball cap to his head and flinging it off to rake your fingers through his wild curls. He groans into you the second he feels your grip, his pace faltering for just a moment before he finds his way again.
Frankie detaches from you, dragging his tongue downward to your folds to lap up your slick. The squelch your pussy makes when his tongue makes contact is sinful. He lets his mouth wrap as much as he can around you, his tongue prodding at your entrance, testing your limits.
“Oh, Frankie, yes-” you lament, your hand pulling his face tight against your core as your hips force his pink muscle inside. His cock is definitely at full mast now, especially with how reactive you are for him. Your eyes are entirely white as you repeat his name like a prayer, your hips frantically meeting the thrusts of his tongue.
You grip tighter into his locks, angling his head slightly down, and fuckfuckfuck you squeal loudly, this angle causes his nose to nudge at your sensitive nerves perfectly with each push of his tongue inside of you.
“I’m c-close, Frankie- fuck- I’m gonna cum, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum- oh my God-” you practically scream, your body losing all strength as you fall back into the counter behind you, Frankie licking everything up while he tries to fuck you through your orgasm.
The vibrations of his moaning sends you into overdrive, and you’re so spaced out you don’t even realize Frankie’s been desperately humping nothing, bringing himself to an orgasm the same time as you. He lifts off from you completely, his breathing labored as his chin threatens to drip your arousal to the ground. Frankie’s fingers reach for his face, collecting up the residue only for him to bring it back up to his mouth. The sound of him sucking his fingers up like he just ate the sauciest of wings brings you back to reality, pulling your body up weakly as your eyes go wide when you realize what Frankie’s doing.
Your cheeks heat up, but your ability to tease is back. “That good, huh?”
“Finger lickin’, baby,” he says lazily.
He rises from his knees only for you to then notice the wet spot at his crotch. “Frankie-” you start.
“Yes, yes I did,” he finishes, knowing the question you were going to ask.
He bends down to pick up his hat, swiftly placing it back on his head while he grabs your shorts, putting them gently back in place.
“You okay?” He checks in.
You melt under his sweet attention. “Never better,” you beam.
You two stand there in each other’s presence before you finally pipe up. “So how do you wanna…” you trail off.
“You wanna head out first? I got a bit of a… mess to clean up anyway,” he says, gesturing to himself.
“Oh! Right, yeah. Okay,” you say awkwardly, as if his tongue wasn’t just inside of you. “I’ll see you out there,” you add as you turn around, opening the door just enough to slip out.
You stand there for a moment, giving yourself a second to register what the fuck just happened. You did not let a man you just met go down on you? At a bar, no less?!
You make your way to the bartender, needing an ice cold glass of water to cool you off. Your head is spinning, and it’s really not because of the alcohol anymore. But you blame the substance anyway.
Hearing the bathroom door creak, you turn around to see a blushing Frankie, his hat off his head and his hand shielding the wet patch between his legs. He sees you at the bar and he smiles, walking in your direction. However, before he can reach you, Linda magically appears in your face, drunk as shit and louder than you’ve ever experienced.
“There you are, silly!! Where’d you run off to?? Been looking for you, I swear it’s been like an hour!!!”
You look at Frankie over her shoulder, and he pauses in his tracks. You give him an apologetic smile. Before he can say it’s okay, the friends he was with finds him and drags him into a game of pool.
“Hey, sorry!” You scream over the music. “Just needed some time, it got a bit too loud in here,” you lie. You’re too overstimulated—in many ways as your clit throbs against the fabric of your wet panties—to handle more ridicule from these three. “I think I’m gonna head home now, though, I’m kind of tired,” you tell her. “Where’s Blake and Leah?”
She drags you back to your guys’ table, urging one more round of shots. You go with her to the bar to order the round, mouthing to the bartender to make yours water. She winks at you, and hands you your glass directly while Leah impressively holds the other three with a drunken ease.
When Frankie finally spots you, happy and laughing with your friends, he smiles to himself and decides not to interrupt your time. He can find you later.
Except, he doesn’t.
Monday, August 19th.
Sunday was a blur. It was spent downing more water to flush out your body while surfing every account on every social media platform you have for a Frankie in your area.
No luck. Of course.
Frankie’s Sunday was spent the exact same way, too, although he is much less tech savvy and his attempt only lasted an hour before he gave up and spent the rest of his day moping.
“¿Qué pasa, papi?” What’s wrong, daddy? Elena had asked him as she scarfed down her eggs.
“Estoy bien, mi amorcito,” I’m okay, my love, Frankie responded with a kiss on her head.
Elena didn’t bug further, but he knew she would soon.
Monday morning, Elena was way too eager for her new school, forcing her father up and making breakfast an entire hour before they actually needed to get up. Somehow, Elena even convinced Frankie to leave the house half an hour before they needed to leave, forcing them to wait in the empty parking lot until any sign of life emerged.
Elena buries her nose in a book, while Frankie sat there, watching the minutes tick by. As he stared at the building, red accents and Home of the Rebels painted in big white letters, he’s suddenly reminded of what Ms. Sabatino asked him.
He reaches over and grabs the handbook out of the glove compartment. He flips open to the first page to the table of contents, and the first section, written in italicized, bold letters catches his eye:
Ground Rules
He flips to the page.
He scans through each bullet point, each one feeling more and more like common sense, but with the way the principal described these parents, he realizes how necessary these so-called rules are.
His eyes scan the last bullet point, and he can’t help but bite back a laugh.
No parent-teacher relations. Parent will be kicked off the PTA. Teacher will be reprimanded. NO exceptions.
He flips through several more pages when Elena lets out a piercing shriek. “AHH! DADDY, DADDY, LET’S GO,” she’s jumping up and down as much as she can while being belted in her car seat. Frankie looks up to see a bustling crowd of children and their guardian. He sees Ms. Sabatino in the mix.
“Alright, alright, mi vida (my life), I’m coming,” Frankie soothes, giving a softer tone of voice that hopefully she mirrors. He gets out of the car and opens the passenger door behind him, unbuckling Elena and setting her down to the ground, grabbing her backpack and shuffling it onto her back.
Ms. Sabatino catches sight of Frankie and Elena, and excitedly makes her way over. She bends down to Elena’s level. “Good morning!! You must be Elena Morales, yes?”
“YES-” she stops herself and clears her throat. “Yes! Yes, that’s me!” She says, a decibel calmer.
Ms. Sabatino warms at her eagerness. “It’s very lovely to meet you, Elena, I’m Ms. Sabatino, the principal here!” She holds out her hand for Elena to shake. She takes it eagerly.
“It’s very nice to meet you!” Elena emphasizes, putting on her best charm. Frankie chuckles.
Ms. Sabatino rises. “Mr. Morales, it’s great to see you again!” He nods his head with a smile and a soft likewise. “May I walk you both to her class? I’d like to introduce you to her new teacher,” she directs the question towards both of them.
Elena looks elated. She turns around to look her father in the eye, Frankie’s very own signature puppy dog eyes reflected back to him. He doesn’t even need to hear the question to know what her answer would be if she pulls this card. “Oh, papi, please will you come?”
“Of course, baby,” he says, caressing the apple of her cheeks before she cheers in victory.
“Great!” Ms. Sabatino says with a clap to her hands. “Right this way.”
On the way to Elena’s new class, Ms. Sabatino really praises her new teacher. Apparently, she’s the best of the best. One of their newest hires, but she’s practically a veteran when it comes to teaching prodigal children. She’s a powerhouse, Ms. Sabatino calls her. He gets the feeling that the teacher doesn’t really like that label much.
When Ms. Sabatino opens the door to his classroom, the teacher is immediately there to introduce herself and welcome in little Elena.
Frankie really doesn’t know what happens next besides the fact that his heart thoroughly stops and Elena’s voice is a muffled daddy, what’s wrong? throughout his panicked mind.
What’s wrong? He thinks.
What’s wrong is that Elena’s new teacher is you.
And he is absolutely, wholeheartedly, positively screwed.
Fuck.
I hope you liked the first chapter of my new series, New Beginnings!🥹🥹 I poured everything I have into this story, and I’ve been so eager to share it with the rest of you. I hope you are able to love it as much as I do.
Follow & turn on notifs for @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to know exactly when a new chapter comes out!🫶
Comments/reblogs or any kind of feedback to let me know what you think is my favorite part about putting out a story!! Please let me know your thoughts!!! I love you all so much, and thank you for the endless support you all show me. I wouldn’t be here without you.
Floral dividers on top & bottom courtesy of @saradika-graphics <3 section dividers in middle of fic made by me!
#endless thoughts fics#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#smut#pedrostories#one shot#fic#smut fic#triple frontier fic#triple frontier fanfic#triple frontier smut#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x you#francisco catfish morales#francisco morales fanfiction#frankie morales smut#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales#francisco morales x f!reader#francisco morales smut#francisco morales#frankie morales fluff#fic: new beginnings
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Saw an ask about an apparent problem of people drawing Qiu whiter than he is and whitewashing. With that in mind, I think you should hold the same standard for Tamarack for artists that draw her darker than she is to outright black. Tumblr and Twitter in general have an obsession with coloring traditionally white/pale characters the complete opposite race or adding details like kinky/coiled hair and see no issue with it but raise hell the moment a poc is one hue lighter. It erases their identity just as much as everyone says whitewashing does but everyone constantly falls back on the "only whites can be racist so changing their identity in art is okay!!" pipeline
Tamarack comes from a German family and is white, so please take the same level of importance when artists "blackwash" her or any other character in your series.
You know generally, I don’t like to use this blog to as a place to act like I’m the best, most correct person in the world and respond to things where I’m simply telling an anonymous person they’re wrong. I’m just someone who has people following me because they like the stories this company makes.
However, this is something that people should know. If our POC players draw our characters having a darker skin tone than they do in-game and/or give them a different hair texture, that’s alright. I’ve fallen off on reblogging stuff on Tumblr but it’d still be liked or reposted on Twitter.
Whitewashing means far more than the literal act of a single individual making someone look white in a fanart. If a trans player wanted to headcanon a cis character was trans, that’s one thing. If a cis person decided to take the only trans character for miles and insist they are, in fact, cis, well that’s another matter entirely. Your experience with your race and your experience based on sexuality or gender aren’t the same things, it’s not a one-to-one comparison at all. But can people who don’t get it at least start to see how there can be a difference in impact here?
The people who are oppressed in this country aren’t hurting you by trying to enjoy the media that most of the time intentionally excludes them. POC weren’t the ones dehumanizing white people in horrific ways. The overwhelming majority of stories and representations of heritages out there have been and still are white people’s already. Anyone reading this who was thinking along the lines of what’s in this ask need to get comfortable understanding and accepting that. And if you don’t, maybe you should find another game because I’m not going to “protect white identities” from being drawn as people of color. In fact, I think it’s actually really nice if our characters are fun and comforting to people of color so much so that they’d like to imagine those characters being included in their own culture. I think it’s strange that someone would be angry about it.
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⋆୨ chapter seven ୧˚ till forever falls apart
⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter six - redefines in every way what love is - end ୧˚
⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?
ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 8.8k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, suggestive scenes, mentions of blood/children | notes: we have finally reached the end of infy !! rejoice i will no longer be able to torture you guys with the ending of this hehe but i do hope you all enjoyed this ^_^ & now onto the next !
“I came here to talk to her.”
There’s no speck of kindness left in Sae’s eyes when he looks at what’s left of his former lover. He doesn’t even notice you sauntering up behind him.
“How many times do I need to tell you to leave us alone?” Sae emphasises that last part, uncertain of how else he can possibly phrase it so that she makes herself scarce.
For the first time tonight, Mirin doesn’t even pay attention to Sae. Her eyes look past him, focused entirely on you.
You take your position next to Sae, feeling his hand tenderly grip onto your wrist. At the very least, it gives you comfort knowing that he’s here no matter what’ll happen. Though, judging by the ever slight panic you can make out from Mirin’s face, whatever it is isn’t pretty.
Mirin doesn’t say a word, only stares at you expectantly. Swallowing your ego, you nod subtly. You’re curious.
“I’m sorry,” comes out of her mouth, and you don’t know how to feel. There’s a lot of things she needs to be sorry for, but that’s your personal feelings. Somehow, you doubt it’s related to anything with regards to Sae.
“If that’s all you came to say—”
“Do you know about your parents?” Mirin ignores Sae again, instead looking to you.
Sae’s about to just shut the door in her face when you tug on his hand, stopping him. He’s perplexed by you, but he listens to you just the same.
“Yeah, barely. What about it?”
Because Sae did tell you briefly about it, about his suspicions on what they’re trying to do. You have to admit, having Oliver and his family’s PI stalk your parents wasn’t on your bingo card this year. And what he’s suspicious of never even crossed your mind. Only because even if they aren’t the best parents in the world, you didn’t think that they’d actually let any harm come upon you.
To think, they would try to take all of the money, not only their own but yours too, in order to save their own asses.
Mirin almost looks like she doesn’t want to say anything, her fingers grasping tightly and desperately on the hem of her dress before opening her mouth and making your heart sink to the depths below.
“The police are coming and it’s my fault and I know I haven’t done anything to earn your trust but can you please let me handle it?”
She says it all in one breath. Hurriedly without pause.
Are the police already that close?
“What the fuck, Mirin?” Sae spits, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you behind him, the vein on his forehead close to popping.
Mirin swallows the lump in her throat and you’re left staring in a daze behind your husband, wondering what you’ve done that was so wrong that you deserved this; your parents, a scorned and jealous ex-lover, legal threats.
“Sae, please,” Mirin’s panicking and you wonder why that is. Correction, you can sense why—it’s plain old regret. Regret caused by rash actions done on impulse. “It’s my fault, I know but we don’t have time. Tabito’s trying to stall them but they’re coming.” Her eyes flicker over to you, and you’d think she’s beautiful if all you’re seeing isn’t just red.
You feel the injustice creeping up inside of you, threatening you to take action. “And why the hell should I trust you?” Your tone is harsher than you ever thought you could go, and even Mirin shrinks back at the venom she senses laced inside your words.
And usually you’d feel bad for it but someone has already called the cops on you for something you didn’t do and that someone is right in front of you asking you for the same trust she wouldn’t have afforded you if the roles were reversed. If you didn’t have any self control, you’d have slapped her by now.
Mirin’s about to say something when she hears seven tight raps on the door. As Sae reluctantly moves away to open the door, Mirin whips her head towards you one last time.
“Please.”
The last thing she deserves is a chance. You know that. Both your head and your heart are in the same place for once and yet why can’t you act on it? Why can’t you just tell her to shove it up her ass?
“Y/N,” Sae calls your name, hushed because you presume he’s just as cautious as you are.
Slowly, you nod your head, signalling for him to open the door. You don’t know what Mirin is planning, or whether all this is part of her evil plot to take you down somehow.
When the door opens, you see Sae’s friend, Karasu, stepping in first before a detective, a dirty blonde with dark circles under his eyes like he hasn’t slept for days. Behind him, two policemen stand guard, watching you cautiously, as though you might try to jump out the window just to run from them.
“Are you Y/N?”
The detective is addressing you, and you’re sure he’s only doing it out of courtesy because these people always do their work before nabbing their supposed targets. Beside you, Mirin steps one step forward, her earlier panic expertly masked by a puzzlingly professional expression. From your line of sight, behind where the detective stands, Sae tries to move toward you, only to have Karasu reach out to grab his wrist and keep him there, a subtle shake of his head as the only signal for him not to make any moves.
“I am,” you respond, because any under or overreaction would only prove to make you look guilty.
“What is this about, detective?” Mirin asks, a casual aloofness donned on her face now. You’re impressed by just how quickly she can change her moods.
“Oh, it’s you, Ms Seto,” the detective says, realising who she is, and you don’t doubt how influential her father’s been to all of Japan with his work. Immediately, his face softens and brightens up, as though it’s imperative that he stay on their family’s good side. He probably assumes that just because Mirin’s here in this hotel room that she’s close to you. “We received an anonymous tip regarding Ms L/N’s family here, as well as her possible involvement. We’d like to take her down to the station for some questioning.”
So that’s what Mirin had done to you. She had tried to pin part of what your parents are doing on you, too. You nearly scoff if not for the fact you know that the two policemen behind are watching you like a hawk. Mirin is the one who scoffs though, crossing her arms like she’s been through these situations a thousand times.
Beside you, any trace of guilt is absent from Mirin’s expression because apparently, and you don’t doubt it, she’s a very good actress. If it’s up to you, you’d say that her talents are wasted since she’s not one. And while your stubborn ego wants to solve this for yourself, you’d never even gotten in trouble with the local police before for anything, and something tells you that Mirin is way better than you are at this, so you keep your mouth shut and let her handle this like she asked.
“So you have no proof of any sort that she’s complicit in any illegal activities?”
The detective chuckles helplessly, like he expects Mirin to be that attentive. “No, not until the anonymous tipper provides us with what they say they have.”
Mirin’s expression falters just slightly for a split second before she’s back to normal. “So no concrete proof, then?”
“No, ma’am.” The detective seems a little laid back around her—are they family friends? Sure seems like it to you.
“Then I’d appreciate it if you don’t treat Y/N here like she’s some sort of criminal. We wouldn’t want anyone seeing her being escorted into a police car and making assumptions, would we?”
Behind him, Sae seems to have relaxed a little, lacking the earlier blind hostility he held. Maybe it partly has to do with whatever Karasu whispered to him right before this. Still, he’s as surprised as you are that Mirin’s committing herself to covering for you.
“Fine, we’ll meet at the station then,” the detective says, the mirth still on his face as he bids a temporary goodbye.
When all that’s left are the four of you, Sae immediately takes his place beside you, his hand possessively gripping your wrist, an accusatory look thrown in Mirin’s direction. “You did all of that just to mess with my wife?”
Mirin’s expression falters when he uses that term again, for you, because deep down, she still wishes for it to be her. She still wishes for that guy she fell in love with and made all those plans with to be hers. Hers, and no one else’s. But it’s evident enough that no matter how much she tries, even if you somehow ended up dead, it would never be her. He’d rather wait for the ghost of you than live with anyone else.
Karasu walks over, settling himself between the divide. He’s the one who seems the most sane, given this has almost nothing to do with him. “Sae, leave it for now,” Karasu advises, blocking Mirin’s line of sight. You presume he’s just doing it as a favour, maybe to simmer Sae’s anger, because you can feel his hands trembling with rage even as they hold on to you. “We need to get Y/N to the police station before this gets any worse for her and her sister.”
Your throat goes dry. “My sister? She’s been taken in too?”
How ironic that you were doing all this just to protect her from the harsh reality that your parents never loved either of you.
Karasu nods apologetically. “My sources say she was taken in about half an hour ago, but discreetly.”
The passive anger that was only settling on the surface seems to finally boil over, and you thank god that Sae is holding you back from possibly harming Mirin. Otherwise, you’d have probably punched her right now.
“I’m… I’m sorry.” Her voice is timid and she’s trembling but you don’t hold an ounce of appreciation for her earlier actions nor sympathy for her current emotions. This was all because of her. Her, and your parents, and you doubt you’re enough of a saint to forgive either parties.
“If anything happens to her, I’ll make sure you regret it.” Your words are a warning, and Mirin takes them in silently.
Maybe you have been too nice, and way too passive. To the point where people like Mirin felt like they could try their best because they had nothing to fear. At the very least, it still comforts you knowing that Sae was never trying to get anywhere with her. If not, it was the very opposite, though you still didn’t appreciate his lack of communication.
“Hey, I’ll drive us there, okay?” Sae tells you softly, his hand tugging yours gently, briefly washing the anger off of you. When you face him and nod, he smiles, his hand coming up to place your head against his shoulder as he walks you to the car, Karasu and Mirin trudging wordlessly behind. You let him lead the way, finding an odd sense of comfort, different from before.
Now, you know that Sae will protect you unconditionally. He’s been doing it up until now, even when you weren’t his favourite person. Despite his shortcomings, despite the fact that he had no obligation to, Sae was always on your side.
And maybe now you can see a glimpse of the future you imagined, the one where you get unconditional love, the one where you can see a happy family who’s not just obsessed with money. A proper one, with its very foundations built on love and not control over another.
When you get to the carpark, you see Mirin getting into Karasu’s car, and you silently thank him for going out of his way to get involved in all of this. The last thing you need is to be able to see Mirin in the rearview mirror of your husband’s car, sitting there as though she deserved any sort of comfort. If you could, you’d stuff her in the trunk and tell her to deal with it.
However, even without her there, both of you stay relatively quiet. Maybe because neither of you have ever been in this type of situation; neither of you know what to say. Even so, as he pulls in to the parking lot of the station, he takes your hand, squeezing it gently, his teal eyes gentle as they fall into your gaze.
“No matter what, I promise you, I’ll protect you, okay?”
You don’t doubt his words. You nod, squeezing his hand back, tightly because you’re more nervous than he is. You’d probably have to face the interrogation alone, or at the most with Mirin, and who knows what she might pull in there?
“Hey, hey,” he calls out to you softly, his other hand coming up to your cheek and turning you to face him, his forehead pressing against your own, eyes still locked on yours, his smile the gentlest you’ve ever seen. “We’ll get through this. Whatever you decide, whatever you want to do, I’ll take your side, okay baby?”
Maybe it’s the way the pet name so easily rolls off your tongue, but you still find your heart skipping a beat at such a simple gesture.
“Ready?”
You take a deep breath, nodding.
“Ready.”
While you’re in the room with Mirin and the detective, Sae finds himself pacing the waiting room restlessly despite Karasu’s attempts at calming him down.
The raven-haired man cocks a brow, amused by what he sees because Itoshi Sae of all people getting restless is always interesting. Usually, he doesn’t even get to see Sae bothered at all. The last time he saw that sliver of emotion was, well, back when Mirin left.
“Dude, relax, your wife will be fine.” That’s all Karasu can offer now, pointless words of assurance. Though he can argue he’s been plenty useful when calming Mirin down back at the hotel.
Sae shoots him a warning look. “With Mirin in there?”
Karasu sighs, leaning back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t recall knowing when exactly things got so fucked up between them.
“Look, I don’t know what the fuck was up with her, I’ll be honest,” Karasu explains, the only person there with any hint of pity for Mirin. “She fucked up, she knows. And you don’t gotta forgive her, really. If it were me I’d have handled it much less classier than your wife did. But trust me, Mirin’s trying to make up for it right now, okay? We can’t do anything so relax.”
Silence falls over them for a while, the sounds of the landlines ringing and clacking of keyboards the only things they can hear.
“What did you say to make her regret it?”
Because Sae’s at the very least curious about why she was so quick to rescind her punishment for you.
His friend shrugs, “is it hard to believe it could be something as simple as realising she didn’t wanna lose you completely?”
The earlier hostility leaves Sae’s body, only a bitter upset lingering behind. Because he can believe it, because at the core, Mirin’s always been simple. The way she acts out, not so much. She’d already alienated Sae by having been the object of his affection once, and that was not her fault, but she’d exacerbated it by acting completely out of line. On the tip of her impulsiveness was just the last chance to either possibly redeem herself or risk thorough destruction of whatever was left of their entire relationship through the years.
Maybe it’s heartless of him, but he doesn’t care. Yeah, he should’ve handled it better in the beginning. He should’ve just told Mirin that he doesn’t want to be someone who wrecks his own home, even if it didn’t feel exactly like home back then. But you didn’t deserve the anger she placed onto you. After realising his feelings, that was where he drew the line.
He doesn’t give a shit if Mirin woke up and regretted her actions. He doesn’t care if she’s trying to make up for it and save you. All he cares about is you and just you.
Sensing the tension in the air, Karasu forces a lighthearted chuckle. “What kind of magic does Y/N have to make someone like you so whipped, huh?”
There’s a pink hue to Sae’s cheeks at the mention of it, forcing him to look away as Karasu snickers at him.
“Look… don’t get mad, okay? But… do you think it’s possible she knew about it all?”
Never in his life has Sae’s fingers curled into a fist so fast, nails digging into his palms so hard, and Karasu has to throw his hands up in the air in surrender. Both of them know that if anything happens, they’re going to be recorded—and then the media will see it. And then everything will be taken out of context.
It’s routine at this point.
“She had nothing to do with it, so shut it.”
Does Sae know for sure that you don’t? Of course not. He doesn’t have evidence to support you, except that your parents left you behind. If your family’s really twisted, it could all be a part of some ploy. But Sae likes to think he knows you; you’re not sick or twisted. You’re kind and beautiful and trustworthy that he’s not even going to entertain the idea that you knew anything.
It isn’t long after that Sae spots you walking out of the interrogation room, down the corridor and back out to him. For the most part, at least you look fine. You’re trembling a little, so he clasps his hands over yours, holding you to him and kissing the top of your head.
“Hey, you doing okay?”
You can only manage a weak nod, but that’s enough for him. This situation can be a bit much for anyone. He holds you close like that, his warm body cloaking your own. You hate how it’s so easy for you to calm down when he’s here with you, and even if you’d like to condemn him for making such a whirlwind for your life you know it’s not technically his fault.
It was your parents who forced you into this marriage, or else you’d never have met Sae at all. It was Mirin who took it upon herself to try and ruin everything when Sae had refused her. And it was definitely your parents who took all their money and ran before they could get caught for multiple counts of fraud and embezzlement.
All Sae ever did was save your own money, all thanks to making that joint account. Otherwise, your parents would’ve made off with your money too, leaving you with no cent to your name, all properties seized.
You hold him a little tighter now, the tiff over what you thought was going on between him and Mirin seeming so stupid in comparison. Your own parents abandoned you and your sister, looked at you as just a pawn to get what they wanted. You don’t even know how you’re going to face Sae’s parents now that this happened.
A minute later, Mirin also waltzes out of the room, her feigned arrogance still present because the detective is still there. You gaze at them out of the corner of your eye; things only went so easy there because Mirin played her family’s cards right, and now both you and your sister are free to go.
In normal situations, this is where you thank her. But nothing about this is normal, and this was a situation partly borne out of Mirin’s impulsiveness. So all you manage is not paying her back with a slap.
“If you hear anything—”
“We’ll call you,” Sae cuts the detective off, his grip around you getting tighter.
Even if everything had been rocky earlier tonight, you find yourself comforted by the way you just know that Sae would protect you no matter what. You don’t even have to ask him, and he’d do right by you. For a moment, you wonder if this is the kind of unconditional love you’d always wanted.
“Hey, are you okay? Wanna go now?”
Sae’s voice is softer than you thought he could ever be, and all you want to do is melt into his embrace without thinking about anything but unfortunately the world is never so kind and neither is your mind because there’s a thousand questions running through it.
“Where’s my sister?”
“I got her to wait in Karasu’s car with her boyfriend. His car has more privacy and I thought it’d be best if no one outside could picture us.”
Right, because there are already some reporters who got hold of the news and are waiting right outside to ambush you into answering their questions. It’s all sorts of fucked up but you presume your parents are worse so you can’t really say anything.
Sae starts to lead the way to the carpark, his hand never leaving your side. He makes sure to look around, make sure nobody’s there to ambush you. Behind you, you can hear Karasu whispering things you can’t hear, probably to Mirin.
“That would mean there won’t be any space for her, right?” You ask, your mind still doing flips back and forth between being the bigger person and being petty about it. Because you’d love to be as ruthless as she once was to you, but ultimately, you don’t want to feel like you owe her anything.
As you reach the car, Karasu unlocks it, and Sae opens the back door, your sister sound asleep on the other side, her boyfriend muttering a soft ‘hello’. They both look tired, and you don’t blame them. At least you had Sae to warn you about what was going on, but to them it must’ve been a shock, especially for your poor sister who’s always been sheltered against the horrible things your parents could do.
“It’s fine, she can take the train,” Sae mutters, purposefully loud enough for Mirin to hear and hopefully get the hint.
Karasu’s about to suggest otherwise, but you interject—you’re pretty sure you’re the only one Sae will listen to now anyway. Even if Karasu tries to say anything, there’s a high chance that it’ll go ignored.
“She can sit in the front,” you say, because despite knowing better, it’s always been in you to try and be nice.
“Thank—”
“If she ends up getting pictured, it could blow back on us anyway,” you mutter coldly, because being nice doesn’t mean you have to make it apparent. There’s no one here you have to impress anyway, and Sae probably knows you’re just trying to hold it together for yourself, so you won’t have any regrets.
Like you predicted, Sae’s not all for it, but he doesn’t say a thing, following after you into the backseat, squeezing and trying not to wake your sister. Mirin doesn’t say a thing the whole way back, she only thanks Karasu for driving her back and leaves. Neither does Karasu say a thing, awkward silence hanging in the air as you catch him casting quick glances at you and Sae in the rearview mirror.
“Thanks for taking care of her,” you whisper to your sister’s boyfriend as he carries her out of the car. You didn’t get to talk to her all night, but that’s fine, you suppose she needs a long rest after everything she found out tonight.
He shoots you a helpless smile after he presses a kiss onto her forehead. The way he looks at her alone could make people believe in love, and you’ve never been more thankful that you tried your best to protect it. Among everyone, your sister’s always been good and kind, and even if you’ve never seen her around that much after university started for her, you love her all the same.
“You sure you don’t wanna wake her?” He asks you, quietly so he doesn’t disturb her. “She said she missed you, you know.”
You shake your head. “It’s fine, I’ll call her when things settle down,” you assure him, managing a genuine smile. “Take care of her, okay?”
Behind you, Sae smiles to himself when he figures out he must’ve married an angel, must be the luckiest man in the world. Despite everything that’s happened, you should be taking care of yourself, yet you managed to make sure Mirin got a ride home, and that your sister is in good hands. You’re a much bigger person than Sae can even dream to be and yet somehow, you chose to put all your effort into him and this marriage and even if he can’t tell where this will go from now on, he’s not going to give up on you.
When Karasu pulls out of your sister’s apartment parking, Sae slides over to your side, sitting himself on the middle backseat, putting an arm around you and gently placing your head in the crook of his neck. Then, only then, do you let your tears go, sobbing into his chest because you’d been holding back all this time, and Sae wonders if you do this a lot on a daily basis; put on a brave face as though you need to pretend you’re something you’re not. Though, if this was happening to him and Rin, he would be doing the same thing you are.
In the driver’s seat, Karasu finally understands why Oliver’s been saying Sae is a changed man. Even back then, with Mirin, Karasu doesn’t recall Sae being this gentle. Maybe it’s because he’s older now, or maybe it’s just because of you—the fact that it’s you, that’s why Sae is like this at all, a privilege only for a special person.
“Hey man,” Karasu calls out to Sae after you get out of the car. He smirks when Sae looks over at him, very much like a hopeless man in love because out of the corner of his eye, Karasu can tell that he has his hand in yours, keeping you there. Since when was he ever this clingy? “Congratulations.” Something he didn’t get to say because he wasn’t at the wedding.
But at least saying it now, he can really mean it.
Sae smiles subtly, but your head pops back into Karasu’s field of view before your husband can say anything.
“Hey, Karasu, right?”
He looks surprised, but he smiles at you all the same. “Yes, I am.”
You grin at him, and Karasu can already tell Sae’s a lucky man. Pretty wife, and from whatever Oliver’s mentioned, it sounds like you’re a keeper.
“I just met you tonight but… thank you, really,” you tell him, and he chuckles.
You’re really something, because even Mirin had mentioned it to him earlier when she was having a full-on breakdown, when he had asked about you. Karasu thinks that it would just be a lot easier to think screw everyone and just focus on yourself, but apparently, not for you. Maybe he understands a little more of why Sae can’t help but fall for you.
“That’s a lot of shit to unload on someone who didn’t exactly steal Sae from you,” Karasu remarked, trying his best to steer Mirin in the right direction.
Mirin clicked her tongue, annoyed because she knew she wasn’t exactly acting with common sense. All she had wanted was to remove you from the picture, through any means necessary. So why? Why was it that whatever she tried would backfire on her? Why was it that no matter what, Sae would never give up on you? Where was the guy that so easily gave in when Mirin had suggested a breakup?
Why did she have to teach him everything only for you to get everything she ever wanted?
“Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but if you keep doing this…” Karasu trailed off, sighing as he looked away, scratching his head. “You’re really gonna lose every ounce of a friend you could possibly have in Sae.”
Mirin kept quiet for a while, then, as if she was considering something. Back then, Karasu hadn’t even known that anonymous tip she sent in to the police. If he had, he would’ve definitely acted faster.
“Is that Y/N even that bad of a girl?” Karasu thought out loud, wondering why there was all this trouble over you and Sae.
And for the first time since she got back to Japan, Mirin was completely honest with herself.
“No, she’s not.” (It was so quiet, Karasu had trouble deciding whether it was just the figment of his imagination.)
Because what had you ever done to her except unwillingly be placed in the middle of their by-then non-existent relationship?
“At your service, ma’am,” Karasu responds, grinning at you when he says his next words. “And don’t worry, I’ll keep Mirin in check.”
You still for a moment hearing those words, then pout at him before you slowly retreat out of the car, pulling Sae with you. You’re not even sure why you can find it in yourself to be worried for someone like Mirin who tried to screw you over. Maybe it’s because Sae had told you about her parents, about how she just didn’t have anyone and leaned on Sae for support out of habit. Somehow, Karasu’s words manage to comfort you a little bit; at least you knew that there was still someone else looking out for her. Your empathy is there, but that doesn’t mean you want to forgive her or even think about it.
Karasu laughs at your subtle reaction, rolling down the window, “hey Sae, your wife’s kinda cute,” he teases, and you see why Karasu managed to calm Mirin down back at the hotel. Whatever he did, it was definitely effective. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he oozes sincerity despite his jokes, something you can’t really say for Oliver and Shidou.
Beside you, Sae uses his body to block your line of sight as he flips Karasu off. “My wife, go away,” he quips, and you can only watch as Karasu laughs it off while he drives away from your apartment.
The moment you’re back in the house, Sae sets your bag down slowly on the couch, and you pause right before you enter the bedroom. Everything somehow feels light yet awkward and it feels like you’ve been through so many emotions in the span of one night and now it’s already 2am and you’re tired but it’s not like you can sleep right away with all these thoughts in your head.
You feel Sae’s chest press up against your back, his arms wrapping around your chest. Now that you know he’s never actually even cheated on you, or even thought about it, it’s like a huge weight has been lifted off your chest.
“What’s on your mind?” There’s a strain in his voice, and you can tell he’s gotten a cold just from tonight alone.
You sigh. “I don’t know if I can handle all of this…” you mutter honestly. Everything has just been too much. It was manageable back when you thought your marriage was the only thing in ruins, but to learn now that your parents are wanted fugitives and the fact that they’d leave you and your sister to clean things up and bear the brunt of being damned just for being their kids is a lot to take in for one night.
“You know I’m here for you whatever you need, right?” Sae asks, holding you tighter, pressing a kiss on your temple.
You want to be soft for him so bad, you want to melt into his touch and let him comfort you and hug him to sleep, but can you really afford it right now? Can you afford letting him feel that everything is fine after keeping everything from you and driving you to the point of thinking about divorce?
It’s not normal. It shouldn’t be.
And while you appreciate what he’s done for you in secret, that’s exactly what you’re not so sure about—secrets. You’re husband and wife, and if there’s going to be any hope moving forward, you can’t have him try and bear the burden of knowing alone.
“If you ever keep something like that from me again, I’m not giving you another chance,” you tell him, your voice quivering but he listens to you seriously all the same. It’s times like these where you appreciate that he isn’t the type to be joking around all the time. He’s serious when you need him to be, and that means a lot to you already.
“I promise you, I’ll talk to you, whatever it is,” he says, slowly turning you around, his fingers gently gripping your chin, tipping your head up to face him. “I meant what I said, by the way. I love you, Y/N, and I’m sorry I was being stupid. And I’ll try to make up for it, however long it takes me, okay?”
This is a first for you that it makes you emotional. For your entire life, you feel like it’s been you who’s been the one trying to take care of other people’s feelings and needs so much that you step all over your own. For your entire life, no one has cared about you so much so that they’d actively try and take care of you. Everyone lets you take care of everything yourself without thinking that it’d be nice to offer you help even if you looked like you didn’t need it.
For your whole life, you’d wondered how it would feel like being loved by someone who wants to take care of you just because. And here he is, making you feel like you’re loveable, like you’re worthy of being treated like a princess, like you don’t have to mask who you are to get his love because no matter what you do, his love overpowers it.
“So don’t leave me, okay?” Sae’s lashes flutter against your own, his teeth clenched because he’s thinking of how close he was to losing you and he would’ve never forgiven himself if you did.
And maybe it’s the way you realised he’s loved you in his own way all this while, or maybe it’s the way he keeps you so close to him now, so afraid of losing you, that you feel it’s okay to let yourself go, to let yourself be you, to wear your heart on your sleeve because no matter what it is, Sae will take care of it.
“I love you, Sae,” you whisper, both of you with your eyes closed, breaths mixed together, Sae subconsciously pushing you into the bedroom because he never realised that such simple words from you would ignite such an urgency inside him.
That night, for the first time, you experience Sae’s love for you. The way it’s so subtle, so gentle, a complete opposite of what you initially thought he was. The way he holds you in the palm of his hands and takes care of you completely; a dream you thought you’d never live to see come true. So many people go their whole lives being stuck in a relationship that they find lacking and yet here you are, getting everything you need and want and you don’t even have to ask for it because Sae knows you well enough to give it to you.
In the dim light of the moon that makes it into the slivers of your blinds, Sae marks you as his own, and even though neither of you have been through it, it feels right. It feels so right even when you’re lying in bed together after everything, legs tangled together underneath the blanket, bare bodies enveloping one another as the exhaustion finally kicks in.
Sae watches you as you fall asleep, finger lightly brushing your arms and lulling you to sleep. There’s a lot he still doesn’t understand about relationships, and the only form of experience he had seemingly meaning nothing in the face of his actual love, yet he’s strangely motivated now. There’s no way he’s going to let anything, much less himself, fuck this up.
No, he’s going to do his best to keep you happy, to take care of you and make sure you don’t have to be the one who acts strong all the time just to appease everyone else. He’s going to make you smile everyday because you deserve it, and he’ll do anything to make sure that happens.
Anything.
“She had nothing to do with it.”
Of course, Sae’s parents didn’t take too well to the news. One night isn’t enough for it to blow over, because the moment they got the news, they were here to get to the bottom of it. As expected, you received nothing but accusatory remarks, and unlike Mirin’s, at least Sae’s parents had the right to be upset.
Still, Sae’s standing up to them, a protective arm keeping you behind him, making sure they don’t throw daggers at you.
They’re angry, but they’re not as bad as your own parents. At the very least, his father isn’t throwing a tantrum and breaking silverware. Doesn’t even look close to it. He only crosses his arms in disbelief, the vein on his forehead threatening to pop.
“Are you sure you want to defend her?” He asks his son, scoffing. “You know how bad of a reputation we have now thanks to her parents?”
“He’s right, honey, if you want to divorce her now we’d fully support you,” his mother joins in, and she’s every bit as submissive as your own mother, you bet. Anything for their money bag.
“I’m not divorcing my wife ever, so if that’s all you came to say, you can leave.”
Suddenly you feel guilt for being the one to bring up divorce in the first place.
The argument goes on for a while, and you keep quiet all through it. Only because Sae asked you to. It’s fair; he wants to handle his parents, so you’ll trust him to it. If there’s a need, you’d interject anyway.
Like right now, when you realise that maybe your silence is making things even worse, like your admittance of guilt.
“I’m sorry for what my parents did,” you speak up, bowing ninety degrees because as much as you hate their actions, you want to help Sae as much as you can. He must hate talking to his parents as much as you do, so the least you can do is alleviate that. “I really didn’t know what they were up to, and I didn’t expect it to affect your family’s reputation as well. I can’t even begin to repay you for what my parents did, but I can offer you everything I have now, and I’ll do anything you want me to.”
“Then easy, leave—”
“Except leave your son,” you affirm, straightening up and looking them in the eyes. “We love each other, so we’re going to make this work.” Beside you, a smile tugs on the corners of Sae’s lips at your declaration. Are you really the same person who used to be so meek in front of yours and his parents once upon a time? “As for my parents, I’ll let the authorities do their work and capture them. As far as I’m concerned, they’re dead to me.”
Perhaps it’s because of your strong words, but the Itoshis leave not ten minutes later.
You flop down on the couch, an exhausting morning followed by an exhausting night is entirely too much for you. Sae shamelessly lays himself down on top of you, head resting on your chest. He must still be tired, judging from the bags under his eyes.
“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair. “You were pretty hot, though, sticking it to them.”
You stifle a laugh, though your smile speaks for itself. “Guess we should’ve expected that. They got conned out of their money too, after all. Wonder when this is all gonna blow over,” you sigh to yourself, just wishing that the problem would disappear.
Over the course of the next few days, you received texts from colleagues asking what happened, and Sumi in particular loves to cuss your parents out over text and then apologise for being insensitive afterwards. It carries a sense of normalcy that you needed, though.
It takes a few months before everything completely settles down for you, until your sister has come to the realisation that your parents abandoned you and deserve whatever hell they’re going to get. It doesn’t stop her from saying yes to her boyfriend when he proposes, and you and Sae watch on lovingly as she leaps into his arms and kisses him silly.
“You know what, a family like this doesn’t suck so much either,” you ponder out loud. All you really need is just your sister, and Sae—both of them have never failed you after all.
Sae puts his arm around you, holding you close like he always does. You notice that; that when Sae loves you he’ll crave your proximity everytime. Sumi likes to joke that he’s too clingy, but you like him just like that.
Seeing the scene unfold in front of them, your eyes twinkling as you watch the movie-like proposal in front of you, Sae feels just a pang of guilt.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t give that to you,” he mutters, though he already knows you don’t mind. To you, what matters the most is that the both of you are still together, still happy.
And that’s exactly what you say with your hands wrapped around his neck, kissing him with those perfect lips of yours, pulling him in so naturally without having to do anything.
“You give me more than enough, Itoshi Sae,” you whisper, oblivious to Sae falling even more and more in love with you.
“Have I told you I love you?”
You chuckle, nodding and Sae’s completely taken by your grin.
“We love you too.”
“We?”
And when you break it to him, in a hushed whisper because you don’t want to ruin the proposal, Sae gives you the most lovestruck expression you’ve ever seen.
THREE YEARS LATER
A lot has changed.
Turns out, you’re not as cold-hearted as you thought. Mirin is still on the list of your least-liked humans, for sure, but it’s not like you care enough to harbour any resentment anymore. She’s not worth vexing over, and much less so after that one time years ago when she came over to personally apologise. You haven’t officially forgiven her, but you don’t particularly wish the worst upon her. You’re not even sure where she is or what she’s doing because Sae doesn’t care for keeping in touch with her, but you’re both indifferent about her now.
Reo had apparently met someone special last year when he attended a charity gala. You’ve never met her in person, but from the pictures Reo takes and shares on his socials—all to show her off, no doubt—she looks absolutely breathtaking. He was there with you throughout the whole fiasco too, lending his family’s support to weather you through the tough times. You’re happy he finally found that special someone. From his texts, sometimes it seems rocky, but he’s “pretty sure she’s the one,” and you’re honestly happy for him.
Your parents have been caught—apparently, a year out they’d tried to seek shelter with one of their friends only for them to tip the police off. It wasn’t even like you, but you visited your mother in jail, just out of curiosity, and the only thing she had begged you was to help them get a good lawyer. Not that you didn’t expect it, or that it would make any difference if you did agree. Frankly, you just went there to say “no”, to let her feel the same helplessness she and your father cast upon you. You’ve never visited her since.
Sae’s been busy ever since his career shift two years ago. (His parents weren’t all too happy about it, but ever since their screw up with yours, they weren’t as forceful anymore.) Now, he’s one of the assistant coaches for Japan’s national team, and you’ve never been happier for him. It gives him more flexibility too, getting to spend more time with you back at home, but also getting to invite you with him whenever they travel.
You guess it’s lucky that you managed to land a spot helping the team out with marketing, so more often than not you get to see your husband play some soccer. Like right now, when you’re bent over the railing, watching him coach the two main midfielders and looking completely different than when he’s at home.
For one, it’s definitely the first time you get to see him all intense. With you, he’s pretty much the opposite, going all soft whenever he gets home, and you wonder how you got so lucky to be building a home with someone who loves you so much he can spot you a mile away and give you the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen.
Sae calls for a break, jogging towards your direction looking handsome as hell but you’re not going to tell him that or else he’ll tease you about it.
“How are my girls?”
Oh, and you’ve apparently managed to give him a daughter that looks so much like him. She sits on the railing, your arms wrapped around her to support her as she jumps into her father’s arms.
“She’s been bugging me all day to come and visit you,” you remark.
Yeah, she’s a daddy’s girl—and you smile watching Sae kiss her all over, her laughter ringing in the air, her happiness meaning the world to you.
Neither you nor Sae have ever experienced what a good family is like, nor have either of you seen what good parenting is like. But your daughter seems happy everyday, with parents who support her whenever she wants to try something different, so you both take it one step at a time, learning as you go. If it ever gets too difficult for you, Sae steps in, and he’s never let you down.
“Remember what we’re gonna surprise mommy with later?” Sae asks your daughter, and you’re still trying to get used to him calling you that.
You arch a brow, “I get a surprise?”
Your daughter giggles, nodding as she melts in her father’s arms. “Of course, mommy! You’ll love it!”
Her smile is infectious, a grin forming on your face just by looking at her. You shift your gaze to your husband. “What is it?”
All he does is look you in the eyes, smirking. “You’ll see.”
That night, you entertain your daughter by letting her blindfold you and lead you, well, wherever the surprise is. It smells nice, wherever you are because you’d been blindfolded even during the car ride, and you can tell it’s grand because of the way your heels are clacking against the marble and the way Sae had dressed tonight.
By your guess, you’re probably at one of the nice hotels here for one of their signature buffet dinners. Your daughter’s never been, so that could be why she’s making a huge deal out of this. Like father, like daughter, so cute.
But when your daughter urgently whispers for you to take the blindfold off, you find yourself at the entrance of huge double doors, two hotel staff smiling and opening up to unveil a huge ballroom filled with people, most of them you recognise because they’re your friends.
It’s already bringing tears to your eyes when you realise what this must be.
They’re all cheering as they see you, your daughter skipping happily into the room, choosing to run straight to your purple-haired best friend at one of the tables who you thought was still busy abroad. Beside him, his beautiful girlfriend mouths a ‘hello’, but you’re still too surprised to respond.
Everyone’s clapping and cheering and all of a sudden you feel the familiar presence of your husband right beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses you on the cheek.
“Surprised?”
Honestly? Yes. Very. And you’re not one to be easily surprised at all.
“I wanted to give you the celebration you deserved,” he tells you, waiting for you to take it all in.
It’s a far cry from the pathetic reception you got from people you barely knew during your actual wedding reception. Sae had been nothing but cold to you back then too, so it felt more like a prison than anything.
Now? You recognise so many faces in the crowd that you can’t help but smile and wave back. You’d always wondered what this would be like, and your husband somehow manages to give it to you without having you ask for it and you’re in love. Because he seems ice cold and awkward and rough around the edges but his love for you has always, always been warm. His love has always felt like coming home and having a safe space and this might be the unconditional love you’d been praying for your whole life.
You almost gave up on it. But you know now Sae never will. And neither will you. You have a family now, a proper one built by two people who never had a stable environment, by two people who never came close to being provided one themselves.
Sae’s your pillar of support, and you begin to see now that you’re his.
Now you know it’s true what they say; you don’t have to beg for someone’s love if they truly cared about you, because Sae has always gone the extra mile for you every single day. You don’t have to act like someone you’re not just to please them so they don’t leave—because no matter how many disagreements you have, Sae is always there to listen to your point of view. You don’t have to beg someone to treat you right if they really love you, because Sae’s been actively choosing you ever since the day you got married, and whether it’s intentional or not, you think you’re the luckiest person in the world.
And now you can’t be happier; you have a wonderful daughter who has two parents who absolutely love her. You have a husband who takes care of you in every single way, loving you in every essence of the word. You have friends like Reo who would burn the world if it was ever unkind to you and dance with you atop their pile of bodies. You have everything you could ever want and you couldn’t have seen it without Sae by your side.
The do-over of your wedding reception is perfect. So, so perfect, and it’s almost hard to believe it’s the product of Sae’s ideas. He doesn’t even particularly like celebrations like this but he did this for you, for both of you, and being able to make your daughter be a part of it is like icing on the four-tiered cake he had ordered.
“I’ll love you forever, Y/N,” he whispers suddenly into your ear as you guys are making rounds at the tables.
You accept the kiss from him, flashes going off as you smile against his lips. “Yeah? What if it falls apart?” you ask, teasing him, though you never thought he’d answer you seriously.
“Then I’ll rebuild it,” he tells you, your lips hovering just above each other and his beautiful teal eyes looking into yours, a small smile on his face. “But with you, I’m pretty sure that would never happen.”
And you’ve always been pessimistic. You’ve always chosen to believe the worst because it alleviates the pain you’d feel when things don’t go as planned. But somehow, you believe in Sae with your whole heart. You’d trust him with your whole life. So you want to give him what he’s given you—everything. (He thinks you already have.)
“I’ll love you forever, Itoshi Sae.”
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♛- PLAY-HARD I
1st part/ 2nd part (Mature Audience Community Label)
Series Masterlist ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
➳ INTERESTS; - olo’eyktan!jake x fem!omatikayan reader
➳ BACKGROUND; - working alongside Mo’at has helped you and your family in various ways, as a way to repay her for your free working she pairs you along side Toruk Makto to aid him in small departments he needs assistance in, but more importantly to find a Tsahik suitable for the Olo’eyktan, but he isn’t always cooperative.
➳ WARNINGS; - 3.1k wc slight age gap (25 and 21), takes place after the great war, eventual smut, slow burn, sexual tension, use of alcohol, vomiting (mentioned once), wet kisses, hickies, jealousy, power imbalance, pet names, fluff, bit of angst if you squint, nipple!play, slight p!play.
➳a.i; first fic i’m very very nervous, but i hope u all enjoy ^^, i take requests so just hit my inbox 🌸
*na’vi translation will be provided*
Mo’at was not joking when she spoke of Jake Sully and his stubbornness, the reason why she decided you’d be a perfect aid is due to your patience, which was running very thin at the moment.
“I’m here to assist you, but i cannot do my job if you refuse to go against my requests.” you stated sharply, his ears pinned against his hair and his lips tightened into a straight line, he simply crossed his arms. This was the 3rd date you’d set up for him that he’s rejected.
Not the first, or the second, but the third time. To make matters worse whenever you’d complain to Mo’at she’d simply tell you to just push a little farther.
“I told you I didn’t like her” he said sternly, repeating the same statement he has for the past 2 weeks. “skxawng, [moron] you’ve said the same thing for the other 2 na’vi i’ve tried to pair you with, do not be selfish, think of the future of our people-“
“That’s all I think about y/n, I might be many things but selfish isn’t one of’em. You can’t just force someone with me, if im going to be with some girl for the rest of my life at least let me make my own decision.” He quickly cut you off, now unfolding his arms and placing a hand at his side, eyeing you up and down. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t make any good points, if you were in his place you’d be more than frustrated, but regardless you’re job here was to help and provide for the olo’eyktan, which is exactly what you were going to do.
“Mr. Sully, please-“
“Jake. It’s jake kid” He buds in, smiling softly.
“Jake, I understand what you’re saying and how you feel, but part of my job is providing, and what i’m doing is providing for you and your future” You correct yourself, giving him a pleading look, searching in his eyes for a look of understanding, which you soon found. He relaxed a bit and wasn’t as tense as before, nodding in approval. You quickly smiled, thankful this situation didn’t have to escalate to a serious argument like it has before hand. Those times were the worst times for the both of you, and thankfully you’ve both been able to talk them out and set boundaries and learn from past mistakes, if anything Mo’at would repeat how times like those strengthens the relationship you two share, and she wasn’t wrong.
“m’sorry” He said quietly, but loud enough for you to hear, rubbing his hands together and sitting down, his tail curling up beside him with his head down. “syeha si tam [breathe, it’s okay], you have nothing to apologize for, i’m sorry too, the position you’re in isn’t easy, trust me I know” you said calmly, slowly walking over to him, just for him to open up his arms. You slowly walked over to him, quickly embracing him just for him to do the same with you. You sighed and smiled softly, your head resting on his.
Come to think of it Jake was always a physical kind of person, “touchy” is what the term is. Whenever things would go wrong with him or the clan he would drain out quickly, before he didn’t have anyone to rely on, not a friend close enough for him to talk to so he would create a relationship with Mo’at, asking her for advice and methods to aid him, right before he came across you. You would be seated with Mo’at, mixing herbs for her while listening to their conversations, on specific days jake would speak about certain na’vi women attempting to court him, which made you giggle when you first heard it
“Who is she?” Jake asked quickly glancing over at you, as you quickly covered your mouth to stop any other laughter. Mo’at turned to you and back at Jake softly smiling. “Her name is y/n, I love her like a daughter of mine,she’s been under my arm for the past 12 years” She said proudly, Jake nodded his head, not taking his eyes off of you, watching as you walked over and stood beside Mo’at.
“Ohe ahasey sa’nok” [I’ve finished mother] You said, placing the bowl in Mo’at’s hands, smiling at her, she thanked you and introduced you to Jake. “Te suli, this is y/n, y/n this is tsyeyk suli, our olo’ektyan” She stated, directing her hand to you than back to jake. You quickly signed the “I see you” gesture saying “Oel ngati kameie” as he nodded and repeated the same action. You looked him in his eyes, just to realize he was looking at you this whole time, you quickly looked to the side and began to distract yourself.
He had such an intense gaze, does he look at everyone like that? You asked yourself, your tail thrashing back and forth recalling the scene that happened just seconds ago.
“If you need extra assistance I can always have y/n accompany you, she’s always wanted to to explore other fields of work, I think she could help you a lot” Mo’at spoke soothingly, placing the bowl you gave her down and adding bandages to it. Jake continued to watch you, listening to Mo’at’s words carefully, still grinning ear to ear.
“I’d love that” He said, slowly standing up to take his leave.
That was 4 months ago, since then Jake has been very open with you, always in need of a hug and consolidation, which you were happy to give. Although it was painful how often you’d have to remind yourself not to mix pleasure and business, you’re helping you’re olo’ektyan, he’s just worn out and exhausted. Surely tonight would help him, deeming the celebration would be in his favor, celebrating his successful raid with his party and no injuries or casualties were gained.
“I’ll see you tonight?” He asked,slowly releasing you from his grasp and looking up at you, you just looked down at him smiling and nodding softly. “Of course, just don’t expect me to be there early, i’ll be coming with Za’yukto” You said, slowly backing up ready to leave, jake quickly grabbed your hand as soon as you turned around.
“Who is that?” He asked, you turned to face him to see his demeanor quickly changed. His jaw had clenched and his grip on your hand was getting tighter by the second. “Just a friend of mine, he didn’t want to go alone so I volunteered to take him, just for a while” You said harmlessly, he tilted his head, looking at you up and down before responding. He opened his mouth just to slowly close is and take a deep breath, making direct eye contact with you. “Just… just don’t be too late okay? I’ll be waiting for you” He said softly, his ears lowering slightly as he let go of your hand.
“Of course, and if you ever get too bored you can talk to all of your other friends there” You joked, quickly getting your belongings and leaving shortly.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
You glanced in your small reflection for a final time before leaving your small hut. You haven’t done much to your appearance other than brushing out your braids and changing your purple beaded top to a red one, you’ve always liked how the colors looked on you.
This’ll do. You thought, it was too late to turn back and change now, you’ve already gone so far anyway. You looked pleasant, eye-catching, which was the exact look you were hoping for, hopefully you’d get someone to look at you during tonight’s celebration, or maybe a specific someone. Of course that specific someone being non other than J-
“Y/N!! Are you here?” You stopped dead in your tracks quickly walking over to the entrance of your hut.
That’s Za’yukto’s voice. “Hi, sorry, ohe am lonu to sìltsan” [I’m ready to go] You stated, stepping outside and quickly setting down the entrance of your hut with a smile, looking up at him. He smiled in response and complimented you, to which you thanked him and began making your way to the spirit tree for the celebration.
Soon after you two arrived, you quickly began to adjust your top, brush off your loincloth and hair, saying your goodbyes to Za’yu as you made your way to look for Jake, thankfully finding him quickly-
He’s with someone, you thought, seeing him off to the side laughing with a large drink in his hand, obviously being alcohol, of course stronger than any human substances and yet tasting even sweeter than anything you’ve ever had before. Seeing him happy like that did nothing more than make you smile a bit, he’s been stressed lately, he needs some sort of release. You quickly walk to the side getting closer to him just to see he’s doing more than just talking.
More than just laughing, and not with any someone, with a woman.
And he’s…. he’s kissing her? They’re kissing, they’re definitely kissing, and he’s not kissing just any woman, it’s the first na’vi you ever brought towards him to consider that he immediately rejected, simply telling you “There’s nothing special about her”.
Ewya.
You didn’t even bother making your way over to him, you’d already seen enough, feeling your face heat up out of sheer embarrassment and your eyes beginning to burn. On one swift motion you turn around to find Za’yu and to your surprise he already had a large cup waiting for you. You quickly grabbed it and chugged it down, your face immediately going from a sour look to more relaxed.
“Syeha si y/n!!” [Breathe y/n!!] Za’yu said, quickly taking the now empty cup from your hands as you just smiled at him. “I’m fine, come dance with me?” you asked, holding his hand. He just shook his head and placed the cups down on a table beside him, quickly taking you to the center of the dancefloor and began dancing with you in his arms.
This is a party, a place to let loose and celebrate, and that’s exactly what you planned on doing. You hooked your arms around Za’yu’s shoulders, pulling him a little closer, and looking at him intensely. You’d be lying if you said Za’yu wasn’t attractive, he was insanely attractive and overall perfect, everything a woman would look for in a man, he was skilled, intelligent, good looking, and strong? A complete package. Especially with the fact he’s such a gentleman, that’s what triggered your friendship so quickly.
He looked down at you, his hands traveling from your back to your waist, grinning at you. You slowly pushed yourself up against his body, feeling your beaded top clink against his broad chest. You slowly climb up on your tippy toes closer and closer to his face, as he too moves in closer, just for you to reach towards his ear and kiss it.
“Can you get me another drink please? I’m so thirsty” You ask him playfully, rubbing your 4 fingers against your throat slowly, licking your lips at him. He nodded and reached down to your collarbone, kissing it softly before leaving to get you a drink.
Soon after dancing by yourself you feel a hand rest on your stomach and trail down to your pelvis, holding you securely as your back rests on his back, you lift your head up quickly to see Za’yu, with your drink in his hand as he smiled down at you. You slowly got onto your tippy toes and kissed him, just to taste residue of alcohol that he previously consumed, smiling at the sweet taste, and taking the cup from his hands and quickly finishing it, dropping the cup and turning to face him, kissing him again.
Honestly at this state you’re wondering where jake was, if he was enjoying himself with his dick probably down that girls throat, but at the same time you were too fucked out and having way too much fun to care. Your shared kisses with Za’yu quickly became more intimate and more active, exchanging saliva and practically moaning into his mouth while still dancing, now slowly beginning to grind yourself onto him.
“Za’yu-“ You moaned softly against his lips, barely being able to catch your breath. “I know tìyawn, I know, mawepey” [I know love, I know, be patient] He said softly, his kisses trailing from your lips to your jawline and down to your neck, beginning to suck on you softly.
You rested your hand on the back of his neck, slowly playing with his hair and mewling softly, your ears perked up and your tail curling around your leg. He continued however, lowering down to your collarbone, kissing it softly before continuing his assault.
“ ‘Yu, can w- can we go back to my place? Please” You whimper softly, as he slowly moves his head up to look at you, kissing you softly. “Whatever you want y/n”. He said, quickly going to hold your hand, just as you turn around someone crashes into you spilling their drink all over you.
Of course it was none other than Ninat, whos throat Jake was previously shoving his tongue down. “Shouldn’t you be all on the olo’ektyan?” You muttered quietly, thankful no one heard you. Before listening to her pleads and apologies you simply just shoved past her, clinging onto Za’yukto tightly. “Don’t worry we’ll get you cleaned up, come on” He said.
Soon enough you both arrived to your hut , walking straight into the back of your hut and dragging him along, to which he quickly obliged. You stepped into the small pond behind your hut and began removing your strained top and loincloth, ushering him to do the same, which he quickly did.
“I’m going to clean you up first” He said, smiling down at you and grabbing a nearby rag to wipe any access alcohol off of you. He was gentle and caring, he only looked above your collarbone and refused to look lower, to make sure ‘you felt comfortable’ was his excuse, you found his caring and respectful nature cute though, knowing there were a lot of navi men out there who would not do the same. You just helped guide his hand to where he had to clean off until he kissed you again, letting his hands trail up from your waist to your soft breasts.
“Is this okay?” He asked softly, looking in your eyes for complete confirmation, to which you nodded and smiled in response. He let his fingers graze against your nipples a few times before toying with you, lowering his head before taking your left breast into his mouth, rolling his tongue onto your nipple, making you moan softly, quickly gripping onto the back of his hair softly. “That’s not the only place that needs attention, i’m still dirty elsewhere” You teased, he looked up at you repositioning himself, giving you a cocky look before answering.
“Oh yeah? Where would that be?” He asked, you quickly took his hand to show him, hovering over your stomach, but before you could continue a wave of sickness hit you, making you pause. Za’yu quickly took notice of this and how your expression changed. “Hey, what’s wrong what happened” He asked, now completely serious as you now grabbed onto his shoulder for support. “I feel a little sick” You managed to make out weakly, he quickly finished cleaning you off and immediately got you out of the small pond, drying you up and taking you inside to get you into something, but not before you threw up on the side of the mossy ground twice before crying.
“It hurts” You said, your voice hoarse and dry, which reminded Za’yukto to get you some water, he instructed for you to stay in your room and get dressed as he fetched you something to drink along with a small herb to help with the burning of your throat.
You quickly got changed, sitting patiently for Za’yu, and he soon came telling you to swallow one of your own handmade herbal medicine and a glass of water behind it, which you did. “You need to get some rest, you’ve had a long night” He said, placing his hand onto your shoulder, rubbing it softly and smiling at you. You didn’t respond, only placing the glass down and sprawling yourself against your bed, your back now facing Za’yu.
A moment of silence has passed, he hasn’t left and you haven’t fallen asleep yet, why is he still-
“I’ll stop by tomorrow to check up on you” He quickly stated, interrupting your thoughts, you don’t answer and he takes the silence as a sign you must be asleep, big mistake.
“Hopefully tonight didn’t change anything within our friendship, i’m not looking for a mate or to court anyone now, it was never my intention to move so quickly with you” He mumbled, but loud enough for you to hear, and shift in the bed as a response, you waited to hear the flap of your hut close before letting the tears in your eyes roll out over your nose and stain your bed.
This was going to be such a long night, and tomorrow morning even longer.
#avatar 2009#avatar 2022#avatar smut#avatar the way of water#avatar#jake sully#jake sully dilf#jake sully drabble#jake sully smut#tsyeyk suli#avatar fics#avatar fluff#jake sully fluff#atwow#avatar masterlist#lo’ak sully#loak fluff#lo’ak x reader#jake sully x y/n#jake sully x reader#atwow smut#atwow x y/n#atwow fluff#neteyam sully#lo’ak te suli tsyeyk’itan#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#olo’eyktan#olo’eyktan jake sully#toruk makto#kryptznn
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ALPHA TROLLS RANKED BY HOW WRONG THE FANDOM AT LARGE IS ABOUT THEM:
This is a personal challenge, based entirely on my own experience and perspective, and also ranked from Most to Least Correct. I was bored, and thought this might be fun.
Putting this under a cut, because it's long as hell.
MEULIN LEIJON
People get her mostly correct, from what I’ve seen… Most of the time, fan content of Meulin is absolutely recognizable as Meulin, but her pride in her deafness + joy of learning new ways to interact with the world through/due to her disability is always removed, and I do not often see people tackle the Toxic Positivity aspect of her character. That seems less like character assassination, though, and more like a combination of people not actually playing through the Openbounds, people not being able to fathom disabled people (especially those who gained a disability later in life rather than being born disabled) being happy, and general fandom distaste for the idea of touching anything uncomfortable, especially when that uncomfortable topic is highly mundane, normalized, and potentially applicable to them or their loved ones. Meulin’s toxic positivity was, of course, commentary on Tumblr’s ecosystem at the time, so… It was much harder to touch back then.
ARANEA SERKET
People tend to get her general, broad strokes personality right, but unfortunately she gets treated pretty roughly for the crime of Being A Serket. People refuse to understand her motivations, and she often gets demonized for what she was doing around/during [S] Game Over, even though that was something she’d gotten pushed to and also was cool as fuck to watch. God forbid a woman do anything.
DAMARA MEGIDO
People are right about the racism, 100%. It is completely despicable, hard to look at, and extremely blatant. She does, however, have character outside of that. No, it isn’t “whore”, it’s more like “angry, dysfunctional abuse victim”, and she’s genuinely a very interesting and tragic character. But, again, people are right about the racism, so she gets to be placed way up here.
MEENAH PEIXES
She is such a chaotic little bastard. I love her. I really do. Please understand that she genuinely does not understand the concept of consequences. This girl didn’t have a Lusus, she didn’t have parents, it was functionally illegal to tell her “No, you can’t do that.” That would fuck up literally anyone’s moral compass. That’s not me hand waving away all the fucked up and bad shit she’s done, we all know what she did, but people tend to forget this aspect of her character and it pains me deeply, because it is a very genuinely interesting concept that I want to see more of. She’s capable of regret, we’ve seen her feel it, I just don’t think foresight is her forte. No one raised her to consider consequences, or help her experience them in a healthy way, because nobody raised her period.
Also, her ass is not butch, she is the girliest girl in the entire comic. She is about hot pink and glitter and kiss marks and unicorns and cute little puns and you will respect that. She is not masculine. Her ass is not masculine nor is she butch. Let her be her hyper-feminine self.
LATULA PYROPE
Please for the love of god there is more to her character than “Gamer Girl” and “Mituna’s Girlfriend”. You are falling for her fucking ruse. Please. Please. Please recognize that her entire character is about internalized misogyny, and being forced to overcompensate for misogyny in gaming circles as a gamer who happens to be a woman. Please. I’m begging.
KURLOZ MAKARA
His character is not that deep, it’s mostly just a string of events he is mysteriously, inexplicably involved with. The Makaras are extremely Function Over Form- their characters practically do not exist, they're mostly just plot devices that exist to push the story along. I'm sorry to Makara fans. You just invented a guy in your mind and decided he was real.
He is also not that soft, though, and his relationships with both Meulin AND Mituna are not healthy. Hard to stop people from ascribing cutesy squishy lovey dynamics to random men who happened to have looked at each other once, though. Some people truly haven't graduated from 2012.
HORUSS ZAHHAK
I am begging people to consider that maybe the biggest issue here is not that he is “Bad Otherkin/Therian Representation” and is in fact maybe the fact that Hussie was actually making fun of Systems when he was writing Horuss. Because Horuss is canonically a system. He uses the word system. He uses the word switching. He uses the word host. He literally talks about his Plurality at length in extremely upfront, plain terms. I don’t know how him being “Bad Otherkin Representation” was and still is the main discourse about him. It makes me insane. That is a commentary that truly writes itself. Talk about having your priorities out of wack, honestly...
PORRIM MARYAM
No, she is not a MRA, she’s just a regular feminist who happens to live on a different planet with different politics and social hierarchies from Our Real World Earth’s USA. Whatever argument you’re about to pull out of your ass to say that she sucks is bad. She already explained what she meant by that, in more detail, very clearly, and she was right. Half the time she’s literally just giving you factual information about what Beforus was like, and literal plot synopses. She isn’t saying anything insane. She’s literally normal. I don’t know why people cannot handle or process this. Porrim has not ever said anything controversial. If you disagree with this you’re either misconstruing her on purpose or you fell for Kankri’s bait, and that’s just fucking sad at that point.
Also, she’s more than a sex object, and her tits are not huge. Honestly, half the shit she was saying was just “I am more than my sex life”, and so many people took that and made her main character trait her sex life. Just pathetic.
RUFIOH NITRAM
This man is a fucking war criminal and I will stop at nothing until he is behind bars for his crimes against Damara. Raging misogynist. Total fucking cunt. Just the worst. If I talk any more about this, this part will be 1,000 paragraphs long.
But also, I’m begging people to recognize his relationship with disability, too. He was similar to Meulin in the sense that he didn’t mind his disability, and his biggest gripe with it was the way that Horuss tried to “fix” it… Which is an interesting way to expand upon how Beforus’s culling system is not only very explicitly ableist, but mimicking real world systemic ableism. I also want people to recognize that Hussie is actively having a conversation about the reclamation of slurs with Rufioh’s character, and how not letting people reclaim such language is doing nothing but giving the word power against them while stripping away their own personal agency.
Rufioh’s a complicated guy, and he’s interesting and also the worst, and I am really tired of how he gets watered down to nothing but “Pretty Boy Victim Of His Inexplicably Psycho Ex”.
MITUNA CAPTOR
Holy Fucking Shit, You Guys Are Ableist.
KANKRI VANTAS
To this day I see people saying he was just Hussie making fun of SJWs. To this day. To this day people think Hussie was trying to make Every Tumblr Leftist look bad, and that he hates them Because They Are Leftists. When will people recognize him as a bootlicker to the oppressive class and the violently bigoted. When will people recognize that. When will people recognize that this is more of a commentary on the legitimate real flaws of Tumblr’s politics at the time. When. When.
When will people stop portraying him as a lovey-dovey Catholic Whore. I’m going to stab my fucking eyes out and then kill everyone in this building. Me when it's based and cool to ship an aroace character with a sexual predator. I GUESS.
CRONUS AMPORA
I say this with every ounce of sincerity I can possibly muster as a person: What the literal actual fuck.
#homestuck#homestuck fandom#alpha trolls#beforan trolls#dancestors#damara megido#rufioh nitram#mituna captor#kankri vantas#meulin leijon#porrim maryam#latula pyrope#aranea serket#horuss zahhak#kurloz makara#cronus ampora#meenah peixes#nekro.pdf#nekro.txt
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Posted tonight for your reading pleasure, we are
Starring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna
Just a few fluffy little drabbles exploring what it's like taking care of our favorite JJK men when they're sick <3 Fair warning, this was made entirely for self indulgent purposes.
TW:Very slight yandere themes in Sukunas section and talk of vomit in Getos section. Reader discretion is advised.
Satoru Gojo
Satoru Gojo was the strongest sorcerer to have ever lived. He could handle special grade curses with a flick of his wrist, had mastered the limitless technique, and had stood toe to toe with Ryomen Sukuna and lived. To say he was a formidable foe was an understatement.
Which is why it was always at least a little funny when a cold knocked him flat on his ass. The man that struck fear into the elders of Jujutsu Sorcery for the threat to tradition he posed simply could not handle the common cold. But, you had to admit; he looked kinda cute curled up in his blankets- as if hiding from the sick demons. You placed the Okayu you had made him onto the nightstand as you pulled the blankets away from him.
“Hey cutie, come on. You need to eat,” you spoke softly to him, gently rubbing his shoulders, “And I need to check your temperature again.” Satoru let out a particularly dejected groan as he reluctantly sat up.
“Please Y/n, just let me die in peace.” He rasped out, rubbing his heavy, stinging eyes.
“Nope, not an option.” You said, taking the thermometer from his nightstand. You took it out of the case and slipped it under his tongue. He grimaced.
“These aren’t accurate, you know.” He grumbled.
“Less so when you keep talking, so shush.” You reminded him, lightly pushing his shoulder.
“All I’m saying is there's no point,” he argued.
“Do you want me to find the rectal one instead?” you asked. He was suddenly very quiet. What felt like an hour, but was really only 3 minutes later, the thermometer started beeping. You sighed as you saw the number.
“I’m so cold.” Gojo muttered as you took the stick out of his mouth.
“Wrong,” You corrected, “You have a 102 degree fever.” You sighed. You handed him the Okayu, and despite the fact that eating was the last thing he wanted to do, he still smiled at you.
“Thank you.” He muttered, resting his head on your shoulder. Your hands almost instinctively found his hair. He hummed softly at the familiar and comforting feeling of you playing with the strands.
“For what?” You asked.
“Taking care of me.” He muttered softly, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you..”
“Oh please,” You chuckled softly, shaking his head, “You’ve done the same for me. I don’t mind taking care of you one bit, Satoru.” You couldn't tell if his red cheeks were from the fever or from blushing. Either way he smiled at you.
“I love you Y/n,” He whispered, going in to kiss you. You quickly put up a hand to stop him.
“Whoa there! I love you too, but no kissing.” You chuckled, “Not until you’re feeling better.” Gojo groaned and threw his head back in mock frustration.
“Being sick blows.”
Suguru Geto
You woke up to the unmistakable sound of someone vomiting. You sat up to see the light on in your en suite bathroom and your boyfriend nowhere in sight.
Oh no, Suguru, You thought to yourself as you quickly rushed to his side. You made it to him just in time to hold his hair back as another wave hit him. You gently rubbed his back as he closed the lid, flushed the toilet, and rested his head on the cool porcelain.
“I’m sorry.” He muttered softly.
“Why are you sorry, Love?” You asked, though you knew the answer already.
“I woke you up.” He said, standing up and going to immediately brush his teeth. You wanted to argue with him, remind him that it wasn’t good for his teeth to brush them immediately after vomiting. But you knew it was ultimately pointless. He couldn’t stand the taste. It reminded him too much of his technique. Too much of his curse.
“Think it was something you ate?” You asked as he finished up. He laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“Considering that I eat curses regularly, I doubt it. I like to think my stomach is a little stronger than that.” He grumbled, leaning against the bathroom counter.
“Oh no, you think it’s the flu?” If it was, it was inevitable you’d get it too.
“I’m sorry Darling.” That meant yes. You sighed and shook your head as you went to his side. You wrapped your arms around him and shook your head.
“No need to be sorry now. Come on, let's get you back to bed.” You sighed, leading him back to your shared bedroom. He did feel warmer than he normally did. Once you got him laid down again, you made sure a trashcan was within grabbing distance and went for the thermometer. His temperature only confirmed what you both already knew.
“Yep, 103.” You sighed, “You’re sick.” He merely groaned in response.
“I can’t stand being sick.” He grumbled. Suguru hated being sick more than the average individual. He had to deal with the taste of vomit almost every day, and he managed to hate it just a little bit more every fucking time he had to choke it down. Not to mention just how physically exhausting the whole ordeal was.
“I know you do Love.” You said, laying in bed next to him. You grabbed your phone and put one of the many playlists he had made for you. One of the more calming ones, hoping to put him at least a little bit at ease. It seemed to work, his body releasing at least some of the tension it had stored. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, only for him to jerk away.
“Y/n, no,” He argued, “You’re going to catch whatever I got if you keep that up.”
“Suguru Geto, please.” You scoffed, “We share a bed, if you’re sick it’s only a matter of time before I catch it anyway.” You shook your head.
“I know, I just…I hate that.” He finally admitted, “I don’t want to get you sick, being sick is terrible.”
“Trust me, I know.” You chuckled softly, laying next to him. You noticed despite his warm temperature he was shaking. You pulled a blanket over him. “But that’s just a part of living together. We love together, we get sick together.” You shrugged. “That’s just the nature of relationships and love.”
“I don’t think that’s quite right,” He laughed gently, shaking his head, “But, I don’t really have the energy to argue.” He admitted.
“Good, that means I win.” You smiled with a quick nod. “Now, I’ll be right back.” You said, sitting back up, “I’m going to go get you a cool rag and some water.”
“Thank you darling...” He muttered, sleep already feeling heavy in his eyes.
Kento Nanami
“Kento Nanami, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” You snapped as you walked into the kitchen, crossing your arms over your chest in frustration.
“The dishes?” Nanami asked from behind his face mask, turning around to raise an eyebrow at you.
“Kento, you’re sick.” You reminded him, “Walking pneumonia is still pneumonia.”
“Y/n, I feel fine, rea-” He couldn’t even get through his sentence without a coughing fit.
“And yet you sound like you’ve been smoking 6 packs a day for 27 years.” You scoffed, going over and taking the sponge from him, “To the couch with you, now!” Nanami sighed and rolled his eyes in defeat, drying his hands off.
“Look, just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I can’t help out around the house-”
“That's exactly what it means, Kento.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Look, I love how willing you are to help, but I assure you I can handle the housework for a few days while you get better Dearest.”
“I just feel bad-”
“For no reason. It’s not like you asked to get sick.” You reminded him. He sighed, but relented. Even he had to admit he was feeling pretty shit. And the doctor did tell him to get plenty of rest in the next few days.
“You’re right, you’re right.” He grumbled as he returned to the couch in defeat. You smiled in satisfaction as you finished the dishes he started. A few minutes later you were joining him on the couch and-
“Kento, Please.” You groaned when you saw him on his laptop.
“What? It’s not physical work.” He argued. He was researching details surrounding a possible first grade curse that had been running around to send to Gojo.
“You know, for someone who hates work you sure do it a lot.” You pointed out to him, placing a hand on your hip. He froze, hating that you were right.
“I just don’t know what else to do.” He finally admitted, putting his computer on the coffee table. “I’m restless Y/n!”
“Well…here.” You grinned, going over and booting up his long untouched xbox. You smiled when you saw Tekken 7 was already in. “It’s been awhile since we got to play together.” You said, handing him the controller. His eyes lit up as he took it, it only now dawning on him that he actually had time to play video games again.
“I’m going to crush you.” He informed you of this as if it was an objective fact. As if he was telling you the sky was blue, or explaining how the stock market worked. It was just an objective truth.
“Yeah.” You nodded, knowing he was right. You still smiled as you played with him anyway, even as he continued to crush you with character after character. You only really got mad once.
“Hey, no fair! You one-shot me!” You argued, more in awe than truly angry.
“It’s perfectly fair, the wind up for that move with Miguel is long as hell, you had every opportunity to knock me out of it.” He shrugged. You giggled a bit.
“I was curious to see what you were doing.” You confessed.
“I guess curiosity killed the cat.” He said dryly, but you could see the smile in his eyes. That was undoubtedly a joke on the fact you were playing Lucky Chloe, and you‘d be lying if you said it didn't make you laugh. Your laugh brought a chuckle out of him, and he placed a loving hand on your knee.
“Thank you Darling,” He smiled, “I feel better already, genuinely this time.”
Ryomen Sukuna
It was quiet in the temple. Far too quiet. Normally your captor lover was very attached to you, taking any chance he could to soak up your attention. But you hadn’t seen him once that day, and as the sun started to set, you found yourself looking for him- despite your better judgment. He wasn’t haunting any of his usual locations: His throne room, his bedroom, the garden, your bedroom. He had all but vanished, leading you to look in rooms you had never even been in.
You opened a door that was only 3 down from your own. You wondered why you had never thought about what was behind it before. As the door swung open, you were meant with a completely pitch black room.
“My lord?” You asked softly, poking your head through the entryway. You heard something stir, then the soft glow of his second set of eyes found yours. You stepped into the room and quickly closed the door behind you. “Sukuna? Are you in here?” You whispered, a question you almost instantly recognized as being redundant at best.
“No.” His familiar voice rang out, making you jump a little. His voice was rougher than usual, as if he hadn’t used it all day. As he closed his eyes, yours started to adjust to the dark. You were in another bedroom, and resting in the center of a giant bed laid Ryomen Sukuna, using one of his huge arms to cover his eyes. Something was deeply uncomfortable about the sight. Something that made your stomach churn into knots and your blood run cold. And then it hit you.
Sukuna was trying to make himself seem small. He was curled into himself, as if trying to hide from the outside world. You realized he had to have been dying, there was no other explanation. You didn’t know what was more shocking: that Sukuna was at death's door, or the fact that you were genuinely saddened by the thought. Stockholm syndrome really was no joke. Your body took some initiative and started to move of its own accord.
“My lord, what's wrong?” you whispered softly as you neared the edge of the plush bed.
“Nothing wench, leave me.” he growled, but his voice lacked all of his normal vitriol. It was as if he simply didn’t have the energy to inject it into his words. You found yourself crawling onto the bed. You put a gentle hand on his chest, earning you a blood chilling side-eyed-glare from Sukuna. Your body tensed under the intense look, screaming at you to get the fuck out of there. But you ignored your basic survival instinct, as you always did. It got you this far at least.
“You’re cold Ryo…” You muttered softly, laying down next to him.
“I know. Be quiet, woman.” He growled. He stayed still for a moment, as if deciding if he should kill you for your disrespect or not. He must have decided against it, because when he reached out for you he pulled you closer to him as opposed to throwing you at the wall. He wrapped two of his four arms around you, holding you close the way a child would hold a teddy bear.
You wondered if he came in here often. You realized the likelihood of there being windows was minimal. It was light enough outside you would have seen some of the dusky light if there were any. You nestled into his side and listened to his labored breathing. Whatever was going on with him, he was in significant pain.
“It’s like someone is drilling into my skull.” He groaned softly, more to himself than to you. A migraine. You realized he was dealing with a migraine.
“Is there some way I can help?” You asked, trying to make your voice as soft as possible.
“Just...shut up and lay with me.” He muttered, rolling over to fully engulf you in his embrace. It wasn’t often Sukuna was gentle with you, and even more rare that he held you like this. You decided to just enjoy the quiet with him while it lasted.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#ryomen sukuna#satoru gojo#nanami kento#suguru geto#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#gojo x reader#suguru x reader#sukuna x reader fluff#gojo x reader fluff#nanami x reader fluff#suguru x reader fluff#tw: vomit#yandere themes#trueform!sukuna#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen x you
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too daring for you? | knj (m)
pairing — kim namjoon x reader
summary — Namjoon can't keep your roleplaying idea off his head, so he'll make sure to surprise you with it when you least expect it.
genre — smut, pwp
rate — 18+
word count — 1.9k
warnings — explicit sexual content, role playing, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, teabagging, manhandling, light degradation, cum eating.
Perfume, check.
Leather jacket, check.
Favorite watch, check.
Tonight, Namjoon was a different man. His night would not be the same as the others. No more boring date nights inside his apartment. Today he’ll go to a nice bar, where you’ll be expecting him. But what you’re not accounting for is his intentions.
Today he’s fulfilling a fantasy. One he’s been intrigued by since you’ve mentioned it. But to pull it off, he has to be his best confident self. Be in his A game and catch you by surprise.
Checking himself in the mirror and everything looks fine, appropriate. Except his expression. He’s not ready for this. He can only think of your request to spice things up. He didn’t know they needed spicing up in the first place.
“I’m living my greatest fantasy right now,” he remembered saying. You two were cuddling in his bed after sex. You were cozied up to his chest, and he ran the tip of his fingers through your naked spine. He was almost purring.
“Cuddling?” you asked, sounding surprised.
“Intimacy,” he answered, giggling at your amazed expression.
“Really?” you checked. “But I can’t say I’m that surprised. You’re always so… intense.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t really think we have sex per se, I see it as passionate love making. You’re fully committed to it.”
“And you’re not?” he asked. Your last sentence had his alarm bells turned on.
“Of course I am, love. Don’t get me wrong.” you shifted in bed, supporting your weight in one elbow to look at his face. “And I love that you’re passionate, and that you’re into all sorts of intimacy.”
“But?” he pressed, trying to stay calm.
“But… I, personally, wouldn’t categorize intimacy as a fantasy. I swear I’m not judging you.”
“Okay…”
“Are you mad?” you asked, and he watched as your brows furrowed in concern.
“What do you consider a fantasy?” he asked, letting his curiosity get the best of him. You just stayed in silence and studied his face, your brows still furrowed. “I’m not mad,” he clarified, making sure his voice sounded calm enough.
He was telling the truth. Mad was not the correct word to describe his feelings. He was a little worried that he wasn’t satisfying you, so he was worried. He wanted you all to himself — soul and body, especially body — and he wanted you to moan how much you belonged to him, so he was possessive. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of another man finding the weak spots he worked so hard to build, so he was jealous. But mad wasn’t one of them.
You sighed, taking him out of his musings, and you answered sheepishly. “I like roleplaying,” you whispered. He hummed in acknowledgment and changed the subject.
But that night still ran through his mind every time you had sex, and in the ride to that bar he replayed that scene over and over again. He had to know what you were like, who you were, when you didn’t want to be yourself.
That was enough to give him back his confidence in his idea. His curiosity got him into this mess, and it was that same itch that would get him through it.
The slick wood arches over the bar were the first thing to catch his eyes when he entered. The low light above the tables and booths complimented nicely with the black leather chairs. The live band wasn’t half bad with the smooth jazz.
The atmosphere was sexy. He picked right.
He sat on a bar stool and asked for his favorite drink.
“A manhattan for me, please,” he heard a familiar voice say, and he turned around to fall in love with you all over again.
Your smile was big when you looked at his face, and you opened your mouth to start talking, but Namjoon was set on making this night special from beginning to end. After all, he didn’t let you in on his plans for a reason. He wanted to see the desire and lust in your eyes when you realized his idea. Another thing he was curious about.
“Hello, stranger,” he started, offering his hand. When you accepted it, he took it to his lips, planting a sweet kiss there. “I must be pretty lucky to have such a beautiful face sit right next to me.”
“Thank you…” you said. Your tone of voice gave away your confusion, bending at the end, making it sound like a question. Namjoon guessed you were trying to understand his strange behavior.
“Does your pretty face come with a name?” he continued. He was amused by the many emotions running through your face, but he hadn’t quite reached the one he wanted to see the most yet.
“What?” you asked.
“Oh, no worries. I don’t mind a little mystery.” he leaned towards you and took a sip of his drink. “My name is Namjoon by the way. I hope I get to know you better this evening, angel.”
Jackpot.
Your face lit up with understanding, and a sly smile adorned your face.
“You sound intriguing, Namjoon.”
“I could say the same thing about you.” he winked and was pleased when you bit your bottom lip. He made sure the bartender knew he’d pay for the drinks and made a move to leave. “I must leave now. But if you want to have the time of your life, here’s where to find me,” he said.
He handed you a card with the name of a club and some cash for the Uber. “I’ll be waiting for you, angel. I know you won’t disappoint me.” he said, leaning closer to your face and inhaling the scent of your perfume. “Your name is on the list,” he whispered to your ear, before planting another kiss to your earlobe.
Arriving at the club was easy enough. The waiting for you to show up was almost a torture device.
Did he do it right? Did you feel controlled, like he was dominating your decisions? Were you turned on by the idea? At the end, after he handed you the card, was the glint in your eyes just residue from the surprise? Or did you feel your stomach flutter, much like his own heart was beating out of his chest?
The possibilities were endless.
But it was like you had a neon sign pointed directly at you. He could see your face as you looked for him in the crowd. He took a sip of his drink. Should he go after you, or should he let you find him? He twitched in his seat, his leg bouncing. He must do something.
But alas, there you were.
Eyes still filled with fascination. Your lips parted as you two made eye contact, and Namjoon watched you in awe. Shoulders back, and hips moving side to side, inviting him to glare, to stare, to inappropriately lick his lips. He watched every second of your hands as they ran through your body, touching all the places he knew you liked to be kissed. Your neck, your navel, the curve of your hips.
Dancing for him. A show just for him. Other people get to watch and envy him. But he’s the only one that can touch.
Intimacy be damned. He liked this fantasy better.
You curled your fingers, inviting him to dance. He didn’t have to think twice.
He didn’t recognize himself. The Namjoon of yesterday wouldn’t do such a thing. Too timid to dance like this in public. To grab his partner by the waist and ogle at his favorite body parts. But you changed him. Reached his genetic makeup and twisted it to your liking.
He liked it too.
He didn’t last more than a song underneath your touch. Your hands ran upwards through his body, but before they could reach his neck and fist his hair, Namjoon was already kissing you. It was urgent, it was inappropriate, it was too damn sexual. He was sure he’d leave the club with a boner.
His tongue unceremoniously intertwined with yours, and his hands grabbed your ass with fervor. You weren’t so cute either. Namjoon remembered you were in a public setting when your hands reached the front of his pants.
He stopped your search, holding your wrists behind your back.
“Not here, angel,” he said, panting.
“I know where,” you offered, twisting your wrists so you’d be hauling him around the club.
You reached the bathrooms, and you shoved him inside before a line could form behind you. Before he could ask about your intentions, you pushed him against the wall, kissing him again. He allowed himself to go further, biting your neck and leveraging his position to grind his groin against your abdomen.
“Fuck, I can’t take this,” you said, dropping to your knees and opening his zipper.
His cock was already hard when you wrapped your mouth around him. He moaned your name repeatedly as you massaged his length in synchronicity with your lips. He moaned even louder when his tip reached the back of your throat. Your gag reflex made your throat even tighter, and he wanted to scream your name.
But of course you had to surprise him, using his length to slap your face and tongue, and putting pressure around his base. And that was enough for him to be overwhelmed by his instincts. He grabbed a chunk of your hair with one hand and secured your jaw open with the other, inserting himself in and out as he pleased.
He thrusted his hips once more, as far as your mouth would allow. He wanted to feel your throat closing around his tip again. He only let you up for air after you tapped his thigh. But he wasn’t done being rough. The trail of saliva left between his dick and your tongue inspired him even further.
“Open your mouth,” he demanded, his voice almost an octave lower, and you obliged with a smile. He spit on your tongue before placing his testicles inside your mouth. Between the warmth of your tongue and his agile hands, he was close. “Fuck,” he moaned, inserting his dick in your mouth one last time before climax overpowered him. “I want to see you swallow it,” he asserted, already adjusting his pants.
You did as he asked and opened your mouth showing your tongue to prove it. Your smile was as big as he’d ever seen. If he knew you’d be this wild, he wouldn’t have been so reluctant to comply with your wishes.
“Good,” he said, taking a deep breath and helping you get to your feet.
Before you could say anything, or even better, go home to finish the night, there was a banging on the bathroom door.
When Namjoon opened it, he was met with a security guard, followed by an irritated manager.
“Oh, goody,” the manager said, taking a look around Namjoon to find you hiding behind him.
“Would you two please step aside? The bathroom is off limits from certain activities. I’m gonna have to escort you out of the premises.”
“Sure, that’s no problem.” Namjoon didn’t turn around to look at you. He just squeezed your hand as you two walked out of the club, but he knew your whole body was burning from embarrassment. “Well, there’s a story to tell our grandkids,” he joked once you two were on a cab headed home.
“If you tell them any of this, I will slowly poison you,” you threatened. “But I do need to tell them how amazing you are in all aspects,” you gushed, hugging his neck. “Thank you for tonight.”
“Anytime, angel.”
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A short list of things I would have changed in HoO
It takes place ten ish years after the end of PJO. Percy and Annabeth aren’t a part of the seven but instead appear as cool older mentors to help out the Lost Hero trio. They both have careers and live in New York and go to Sally’s house for dinner every weekend.
Caleo isn’t a thing. In fact, let’s not even mention Calypso. At most we mention she was freed after the last war as idk proof demigods have some power or something.
More than 1 Asian character. Give this one ADHD and dyslexia bc shocker Asian kids can be disabled as well.
For that matter a properly disabled character. I have a deaf OC I would use if I rewrote the series.
Leo is aroace. His arc is about learning that his self worth doesn’t have to be tied to the people around him and his friends love and care about him and he doesn’t need romance to be complete. His flirting is overcompensation bc he doesn’t feel romantic or sexual attraction and is afraid he’ll be alone forever.
Drew and Piper become friends. Drew’s mean girl bullshit is outdated and boring and it would have been a lot cooler to see her icy exterior thaw and her help Piper with her charmspeck (explaining how Piper learned how to use it to begin with) and take on an older sister role
Neither Leo nor Piper become head councilors to their cabins because that’s dumb
Keep the chapter title style from PJO. It was so fun and one of the highlights of the series for me. The relatable nature of PJO in general was kinda lost in HoO and it’s a shame bc there was such a variety of characters for people to identify with there.
Give Reyna a girlfriend or at least a homoerotic friendship that can become an actual relationship in the next series or something
Frank is 14 and he and Hazel aren’t dating, they just have mutual baby crushes on one another.
For that matter what the fuck was ‘Frank is magically not fat due to Mars’s blessing’ bullshit? Frank is a fat character who stays fat but learns to be confident in himself and his body type.
Stop The Adultification of Hazel 2k23. Hazel is 13, she’s the youngest member of the seven and despite her trauma I think that should be obvious. I think emphasizing her relationship with Nico could be fun here - he’s in his 20s so him taking a more ‘that older sibling who toes the line between parent and sibling’ role here could be fun.
Also, I don’t want Hazel to have Hecate’s blessing or whatever. Between her being a magical horsegirl and the daughter of Pluto there’s already a lot of room to expand on her powers that was never used - I think doing more with her cursed jewels and metals powers and her learning the other aspects of her powers, like Shadow Travel, would be fun.
Instead I think having a daughter of Hecate as a part of the Seven would be cool, because we could still have a witchy character with mist manipulation and magic powers.
Give Jason an actual personality, please. Bro’s been a child solider practically since age 2 and has spent his whole life with the weight of other teenagers’ lives on his shoulders as praetor - give him perfectionism issues and anxiety. We’re told that he’s spent his whole life helping others compromise instead of being his own person - show that. Let his arc end with him deciding to try and live a mortal life and find out who he is beyond being a war general.
Show us that Octavian’s a piece of shit, don’t just tell us.
Leo and Piper are the ones who fall into Tartarus. Nothing romantic ever happens but we get heavy emphasis on their friendship and we get to see their grief over Leo’s mom and Piper’s grandfather respectively
Piper’s grandfather has died a few months ago and she cut her hair herself when her dad didn’t want to let her due to that (correct me if I’m wrong but it’s a tradition in Cherokee culture to cut your hair when a loved one dies, correct?), which is why it’s all uneven. A lot of her insecurities stem from going from growing up in rural Oklaholma (not in a reservation bc there aren’t any there) without much money to suddenly being catapulted into a millionaire Hollywood lifestyle and having everyone criticize everything about her and be really racist, all while her Dad drew farther away from both her and her grandfather. Her arc would be reconnecting with both her culture and Dad and learning to find who she is and her self worth again.
They defeat Gaea in a way that isn’t so anticlimactic and fucking stupid
#if anyone else wants to add on feel free to#heroes of olympus#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo#hoo#riordan universe#piper mclean#leo valdez#jason grace#percy jackson#annabeth chase#hazel levesque#frank zhang#reyna avila ramirez arellano#reyna arellano#heroes of olympus critical#hoo criticism#octavian
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favors pt. ii
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
this is part two of this post, i suggest reading that before reading this!
this is my first time writing smut, so please don’t bully me too bad - that being said i honestly think i kinda killed it ngl
also,, i suggest listening to like real people do by hozier during the slow dance bc it was my inspo and it really helps set the scene
~~~
pairing: mike schmidt x reader
original prompt: you’re abby’s babysitter and mike can’t pay you and asks if there’s anything you can do in return and you mention that you need a date to your brother’s wedding
warnings: 18+ nsfw smut, cheating, pet names, afab!reader (p in v) unprotected sex, daddy kink, spitting, cum swapping, throat fucking, spanking, oral (male and female), praise kink, dirty talk, choking, etc etc
word count: 6k
this is NOT proof read so if there are any mistakes ignore them! i believe that anyone of any shape or size and anyone of color can enjoy this. i don’t believe there is any description of physical appearance other than the use of the word ‘curves’ (please please correct me if i’m wrong, i don’t want to make assumptions about anything!!)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After some back and forth with himself, Mike decided to invite you over even though you didn’t need to babysit Abby. He wanted to talk about what he needed to wear to the wedding, what time to pick you up, and if you were staying overnight at the hotel so he could try to find a sitter for Abby. He’s never been to a wedding, not one that he can remember anyway. He wanted to make sure you were both on the same page and to him, texting everything just wouldn’t suffice.
Maybe that’s just what he kept telling himself. Maybe he just wanted to see you again. Maybe he wanted to ask you just how serious your relationship was. Is there any way he could squeeze in and replace your current partner? Could he do better than him? Make you cum harder and faster than him? He didn’t even know his name and he was so envious. Jesus, he needed to get a grip, he knew if you could hear his thoughts, you would hate him.
You were sat across from Mike, crisscrossed apple sauce style on the floor. You had a few loose papers, notes you had written last night to read off to the brown-haired boy. You were trying to make sure he was following along with the description of your family. You watched him make mental notes of everything you said, nodding every once and a while. You were nervous, to say the least, you hadn’t had a boyfriend meet your family in a while.
Your family was awful, complaining and nitpicking about everything in your life, nothing good enough for them. You were the oldest of your siblings and your cousins, but way behind in your career, you weren’t married, and you didn’t have any children. When you didn’t bring a date of some sort, they made sure to call you out on that, ‘Maybe it’s just something we’ll have to get used to’, ‘single again? No surprise there’. When you did bring a date it was the exact opposite, ‘You could do so much better’, ‘that’s the best you could do? We thought we raised you better’. It was quite embarrassing.
“My mom is going to be the most difficult, she is very hostile and she loves to pick everything I do apart.” Mike visibility gulped, nodding and making a mental note to limit his contact with your mom. “I think that’s everyone. We will probably need to do some hand-holding and some cheek kisses, some pet names maybe, but nothing that will make you uncomfortable, I already feel bad enough that I had to drag you to this and-”
Mike reached over and grabbed your hand that was resting on top of the coffee table, “Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy, if I didn't want to do it I would've just said no. I want to help you”
You squeezed his hand, softly smiling at him. “I’m going shopping tomorrow morning for a dress, I’ll buy a tie for you while I’m out and drop it off once I’m finished if that’s okay?” you pick up your phone and keys off the table, standing up feeling the little shocks of electricity poke your legs after being in the same position for too long.
“Of course pretty girl, you can stop by whenever you want” Mike scolded himself, looking straight to the floor, regretting the words as soon as they came out of his mouth.
You look up from the pile of notes you collected, feeling the soft red form on your cheeks. Pretty…
“I’ll be back tomorrow, I’ll text you when I’m on my way,” you say as you walk towards the door, “Bye Abby!” you yell to the girl sitting at the dining table, knowing you won’t be getting a response back, shutting the door behind you. Pretty…
Pretty, Pretty, Pretty.
Those were your only thoughts as you got in your car, buckled in, and started to drive.
~~~
Mike tugged at the forest green tie you bought him trying to make the placement look presentable. Mike hated ties, associating ties with job interviews, sitting in uncomfortable chairs trying to look and sound better than he would be on his first day of the job, just to be there a few miserable weeks until he inevitably gets fired. Nothing good ever came from Mike wearing a tie and he was hoping that you were the solution to solving that problem.
He was combing his curls when he heard a knock at his door, “Abby, get the door, she’s here!”
He heard her desk chair slide against the floor, her little feet fast as lightning to get the door for you, giggling the whole way.
“Oh wow,” the younger sibling looks at you in awe “You look beautiful like a princess!”
“Awe, thank you, Abby” You walk through the doorframe, “Mike are you ready? We need to leave in the next ten if you want to drop Abby off and be on time!”
He walked out of the bathroom, flicking the light off as he exited and looking down the hall, about to tell his sister to put on her shoes he stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t look anywhere but you. ‘Fuck’ he thought, ‘you look so beautiful’ Your hair done just right, a matching green mid-length dress that was tight to your curves, hugging every inch of your body, strappy silver heels that he knew would make you slightly taller than his small frame. Abby was right, you do look like a princess.
You suddenly noticed Mike's eyes on you, pulling away from your conversation with Abby, feeling slightly bad for cutting off her story about her new robot animal friends. “Is everything okay?” Mike didn’t answer, zoned out in his thoughts, “Do I look that bad?”
Feeling super self-conscious, you start to fold your arms on your body, trying to hide as much as possible. Mike immediately notices your body language change.
“No, you look so beautiful. That dress fits you really well.” Mike spoke softly, afraid of looking anywhere other than your eyes as if you’d be able to read his mind if he looked away.
“Thank you, Mike, you don’t look so bad yourself.” You eyed him up and down, his brown curls more pronounced, uncommonly neat, and taken care of, his matching tie slightly crooked, a small white handkerchief pinned to the front. “Very handsome”
Abby pulled you both away from your thoughts, finding it silly that you both just stared at one another not really speaking in full sentences. “Why are you guys looking at each other like that, it’s weird.”
Mike looked away first, embarrassed that a child called him out, “Abs go put your shoes on and grab your stuff, we’re going to be late.”
“Can’t I just come with you guys? I’ll be good, I promise!”
“I’m sorry Abby, my brother doesn’t want any kids coming, this is an adult party,” you say trying to make her not feel so bad, “but I promise you’ll have so much fun at Vanessa’s, don’t tell her I told you her secret but she’s buying pizza AND cookies”
The younger sibling looked at you with big eyes and a toothy grin, scurrying off to her room, singing ‘pizza and cookies’ over and over until she made it to the doorway.
“Ready?” you asked Mike as you started following Abby to the car, Mike grabbed his wallet and locked the door behind him as he followed you to your car.
~~~
The car ride wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be, at first it was small talk, Mike asking questions about your job and your boyfriend, Parker, and what he does for work.
You turned into childhood stories, you telling him about your first kiss, which was with your middle school boyfriend and you both came in way too fast. “There is no way you broke your tooth!” “I did, It took me three weeks of it missing before my parents could get an appointment for me to fix it.” you reply giggling, “I had the worst lisp and it was the most embarrassing time of my life.”
“I’m sure it was cute, I would have loved to see it”
“You would’ve laughed at me, my brother called me Mike Tyson for months, even after I fixed it.”
Mike chuckled as he turned into the venue, trying to find a parking space. The hour-long drive went by quickly. Now your nerves were starting to appear, seeing all of your perfect family congregating at the entrance and talking with each other, wearing expensive clothes, topped with expensive jewelry. Not ready for them to pick apart your looks, personality, and everything else that they can think of. Mike noticed your anxiety and grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly.
“We could always go back if you want. We can sleep over at my house and order some Chinese food.”
“As great as that sounds, my brother would probably beat me up over me missing this” You squeezed Mike’s hand, “Let’s just go and get this over with.” You step out of the car and grab your purse, waiting for Mike at the front of the car, he collects his things and stands in front of you. You grab his tie, quickly straightening it. You finished and looked up at him, keeping your hands on his chest. You looked up to Mike, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you two were so close together.
You never noticed how nice Mike’s body was. He was always wearing something baggy, usually torn, his black suit was the nicest you’ve seen him in. ‘He was so handsome’ you thought. You pulled your hands from his chest, “Ready?”
Mike grabbed your hand, face turning a light shade of red at the intimate contact, interlacing both of your fingers together. Smiling to himself, “I’m ready”
~~~
The ceremony was beautiful. Everything seemed to go perfectly for your brother and his new wife, watching the two from the front row. Mike wrapped his hand around your waist during the vows, handing you his handkerchief after watching you shed a few tears. You leaned into the contact, feeling comfort in Mike’s arms. You stand up with everyone else and watch your brother and his wife walk hand in hand down the aisle, cheering and clapping loudly. After a few moments, you and Mike followed your family, grabbing his hand instinctively.
You find your seat at the table, set down your purse, and ask Mike if he wants a drink from the bar, making your way up front after he answers. You turn around with your drinks, stopping when you see your mom sitting next to Mike at your table.
‘Oh shit,’ you muttered to yourself, slowing your pace and hoping she’ll be gone by the time you make it back. You try to read her as you walk back, her face is soft as Mike speaks and suddenly they both start laughing. No one you’ve ever dated has ever made your mom laugh, she looked nice like that, you haven’t seen her like that since before her divorce.
You sit on the opposite side of Mike, handing him the glass. “Hi, Mom”
“Hi sweetheart, you look nice!”
“Thank you” You were stunned, you couldn’t remember the last time your mom complimented you.
“I was just talking to Mike, he’s the sweetest thing! He was just telling me about his sister. She sounds so cute.”
You looked over at Mike, who was smirking towards you. He stood up, telling you both he was going to find a bathroom, squeezing your shoulder softly as he left the table. You smiled at him and watched him walk away.
“I like him!” your mom finally spoke, once Mike got far enough away
“Really?”
“Of course, he’s handsome and he’s funny. He seems to like you. I think he’s a good fit for you,” you shivered at the nice comments from your mother, not often hearing such things. “You better not screw this one up.”
“Thanks, Mom, I won’t”
You smiled at her as she walked away telling you she was going to find your aunt to talk about how ugly the centerpiece arrangements your brother’s mother-in-law picked out were, you laughed, there was your mom.
You sat there alone with your thoughts. You were thinking about what would happen if you were actually with Mike. You could imagine coming home to him after work every morning, making him and Abby breakfast, and falling asleep with him after a long day. You don’t do that with Parker, you hardly see him, his job keeping him away from you for weeks at a time.
Mike sat back down, disrupting your thoughts. “How did I do?” motioning towards your mom, who was across the room rolling her eyes at something your aunt said.
“You did great, she really liked you. She didn’t say anything negative the whole time she was at the table!” Your eyes were wide, excited to tell Mike how the unusual interaction went.
Before he could reply, your brother and his wife walked into the room hand in hand, getting set in the middle of the dance floor to start the first dance. A slow song started to play, and they danced hand in hand, him twirling her around every once in a while. The song finished with a kiss, everyone cheering for them and they started to wave at everyone to come up and dance, the song changing to something more upbeat. You grab Mike’s hand, rushing to the middle of the room. You both started dancing, laughing at how bad dancers you both were.
Eventually, everyone was called back to the tables as dinner was about to start. You sat down next to Mike, taking a sip of your water, laughing about something he said as you both sat down.
“I’ve never danced like that before,” Mike said after finishing off his water, slightly out of breath
“God, me either. I’m exhausted and my feet hurt”
“You want me to rub them for you baby?”
“Maybe later,” you winked, smirking towards him.
Mike smirked back, knowing that he would hold you to that. He watched you all night, watching the way you danced, swaying your body to the beat of every song, slight sweat growing on your body, the way your eyes squinted and you threw your head back every time someone said something funny. You looked so beautiful and in your element, comfortable and confident.
~~~
After dinner you walked up to the DJ, whispering a request for him. He smiled, picked up a mic, and started to tap on it lightly, grabbing everyone’s attention.
“ladies and gentlemen, with dinner wrapping up, I’d like to slow it down just a little bit”
Like Real People Do by Hozier started playing.
Mike watched you walk back to the table, standing next to him putting your hand on his shoulder. “may I have this dance, sir?” you say holding out your hand, giggling to Mike.
“of course, m’lady,” Mike says, holding your hand and leading the way to the floor. He took one of your hands in his, his other one holding tightly on your waist. You both start to sway with the music, looking towards Mike who starts to speak.
“I think we’re going to be the only ones to dance to this song.” You looked around noticing everyone still placed in their seats, eyes glued toward you both.
You nodded, staying silent and continuing to move around. You move both of your hands up to his neck, interlocking your fingers behind his head, him holding you close at his waist.
You just stared at him in disbelief, days ago you remembered him telling you he doesn’t dance. Now here he was, slow dancing to your favorite song in front of your entire family. He looked into your eyes, they were softer than you’ve ever seen them. He looked comfortable, happy, relaxed. He looked towards your lips, licking his own.
‘Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips,
we should just kiss like real people do.’
Using all the confidence you built tonight, you leaned your head forward to Mike’s, kissing him softly. Mike didn’t waste a moment, kissing you back with so much passion. This was the best kiss you’ve ever had. You both grinned at each other as you pulled away. You stepped closer to him, resting your head on his chest. All you could think about was his lips on yours, how you wanted this moment forever.
“Thank you for coming, I’m having a great time, and my family really likes you”
“I’m glad I could help, I’d do anything for you”
The song finished and you reluctantly pulled away from Mike, you heard a few people clap and you looked up from his gauze, noticing your family was grinning, smiling, throwing a few thumbs up in your direction. You laughed and bowed towards everyone, walking back towards the table.
“You want to go back to the hotel room?” Mike asked, taking the cue from a few of the other guests grabbing their belongings and saying their goodbyes.
“Yeah, let’s go” You grab your stuff and head up to the table where your brother and his best man are sitting, telling him to stand up to hug you goodbye.
You hugged your brother, giving him congratulations as you did so. He whispered in your ear before he let go. “I like him a lot more than Parker”
You just smiled and held a finger to your lips. “I do too but don’t spill my secrets”
You grabbed Mike's hand and walked to the front of the venue, he stopped you outside, bending down to take off your shoes knowing they weren’t very comfortable anymore. The small action makes you blush, thinking about how kind it was of him to remember the conversation from earlier. He held onto your shoes for you the entire walk down to the car, the cold grass feeling cool on your skin. He opened the car door for you, waiting for you to get in before shutting the door for you.
You were in our own world as he drove down the road to the hotel. You were thankful that Mike was here with you, you couldn’t imagine yourself being with anyone else right now and that was a problem. You had a someone else, who right now didn’t exist to you, and you racked your brain on the best way to end it. You in good conscience, couldn’t continue your relationship with Parker, ready to end it with a quick text right then and there and deciding to at least wait until the morning.
“Your brain okay?” Mike jokes, pulling you from your thoughts, “You’re thinking way to hard about something over there and you better not let it ruin your night, you’re mean when you’re cranky”
You giggle, looking into his coffee colored eyes, getting super serious grabbing his hand and squeezing, “Nothing could ruin tonight”
~~~
You threw yourself down on the bed, lying down while mumbling something about needing a shower. Mike set the overnight beds on the table in the corner of the room.
“You can take the first shower if you want Mike, I might take a nap while I wait”
Mike chuckled and started to collect his things for the shower, glancing over at you, laying on your back with your feet hanging off the bed, hand over your eyes to cover the light in the room.
Mike was sad the night was over, wanting to continue to be close to you in every way imaginable. He saw the strap of your dress had fallen on one side, the dress slightly raising higher and higher on your thighs with every swing of your legs.
“You know,” Mike started, You pulled your arm away from your face, turning your whole body to look at him, humming in response, “that massage is still on the table if you want one.”
You felt your body get hot, the thought of Mike rubbing all over your body started to turn you on, and you felt butterflies form in the pit of your stomach.
“If you’re willing, I wouldn’t turn you down.”
Mike moved across the room embarrassingly quickly, wanting to touch you before you changed your mind. You chuckled at his eagerness, knowing he wanted this as much as you did.
“Lie down on your stomach, I’ll give you the best massage of your life.”
You flip over on your stomach, arms crossed with your head resting on top of them. Your breath hitches when you feel Mike’s hand touch your calf, putting pressure down with his thumb making small circles.
You felt yourself relax at his touch, every grip of his hands pushing you into a frenzy. You hummed when you felt his hands move from your calf to your thigh, his grip getting stronger and tighter when he realized you weren’t going to stop him.
Mike heard your soft moans as he pressed into your skin. He loved hearing your sounds, he felt himself growing hard in his bottoms knowing he was making you feel so good. He moved to your back starting from the bottom of your back, headed towards your shoulder blades.
You leaned up to sit on your knees, making Mike stop in his tracks.
“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” seeing Mike upset and immediately thinking the worst, you put a comforting hand on his arm.
“No, it felt amazing, I just felt like something was in the way” You reach behind you, gripping the zipper of your dress and slowly pulling it down. You slipped the straps of the dress down, the top of the dress slipping below your breasts. You looked up at Mike, his eyes hooded and glossed over. ‘holy shit’ he says low, so low you can barely hear it.
“What's wrong baby, you’ve never seen boobs before?” You see the clogs in his brain turning, trying to form words, occasionally looking down from your face to take a quick glance at your exposed nipples, hardening in the cold air.
He leaned down to your face, his lips barely glazing yours, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other hand reaching to pinch your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. “Is this okay?”
You nod in response leaning forward, closing the gap between you two, kissing him with so much need. You let your hands travel to the buttons on his shirt, finishing and sliding the top down his shoulders.
Mike was quick, thinking about this moment one too many times, thinking about your boyfriend and how he’s going to make you forget about him, thinking about if this were the only opportunity he would ever get he would make sure to go all out, making sure you dream about him the way he does you.
He pulls away and pushes you down on the bed, he pulls the dress down your legs removing it the rest of the way and tossing it down to the floor. “Tell me if anything gets to be too much.”
“Fuck, you’re so sexy.” He toys with the lace on your underwear, leaning down to plant kisses on your thighs.
You feel his fingers move down to touch your clothed clit, rubbing softly. You push your hips up, feeling your body feel with need, wanting more.
You lace your fingers in his hair as he starts to leave hickeys on your sensitive thighs. “Fuck Mike I need-” You take a deep breath unable to formulate words.
Mike looks up from his place on your thighs, moving his head towards your pussy. “Tell me what you need, pretty girl.”
The name sent butterflies in every part of your body, you could feel yourself growing needier every second passed by. Your nipples were painfully hard and you could feel how soaked you were through your underwear. He continued to rub your clit, underwear molding to your shape.
You took a deep breath, tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes “Please more, I need you to touch me, however you want. just need more”
Mike pulled your underwear to the side, finally touching you, fingers falling from your clit to your dripping hole. “Look at this pretty pussy, s’all wet just for me?”
He pulled his finger away and placed it in your mouth, “Suck” You leaned forward sucking his fingers with everything you had, swirling your tongue around.
Mike looked up from your pussy, peeping up from his eyelashes to watch you suck his fingers. He was painfully hard, thinking about your mouth around his cock, eyes full of tears and drool dripping from your swollen lips.
He leaned down to lick from your hole to your clit, taking his time. He wanted you to know that you were the only thing on his mind, and you did, he started to eat you out like he was starved and this was his last meal. pulling you close until his hands gripped your thighs so hard you were sure to have bruises, nose rubbing your clit, everything adding up to the knot in your stomach.
“Fuck baby, you taste so fucking good. Could taste this pussy every fucking day.” You tugged on his curls harder, each word spurring you on, getting you closer and closer.
“Fuck baby, I’m so close”
He hummed and added a finger to your tight hole “You going to cum for me, baby? Cum on my mouth like a good girl, so good for me”
Your thighs squeezed him as you came, letting out a loud moan. He continued to lick and suck, drawing your orgasm out longer. It started to become too much and you pulled him back to face you. You kissed him, feeling his wet stubble on your face, reaching your hand down to his pants and rubbing your fingers over his clothed cock.
With shaking hands you started to undo his belt, flipping you both over until you were between his thighs. Pulling his pants down, Mike kicked them off, and you stared at him in awe at his size. You took him in his hand, starting to rub slowly, not breaking eye contact.
He grabbed your face, and squeezed your cheeks together, forcing your mouth open “Can I?” You stuck your tongue out in response, eyes full of lust.
Suddenly a long trail of spit left his and entered yours, “Use it, pretty girl” You kept your mouth sitting up on your knees to get face to face with his cock, and you let the mixture of spit fall from your mouth, making a mess on his lap. Your hand started to move quicker with the added lube, you leaned forward. Licking from the bottom all the way to the top, one of your hands leaving his thighs to make your way to his balls. You started to tease him and sucked only the tip, Mike's hips jerked forward in response, forcing you to take more in your warm mouth.
You started to pick up your pace, taking in as much as you possibly could his groans spurred you on to take even more, “‘s so fucking sexy seeing my dick in your mouth, want to fuck that throat so bad” He collected your hair into a makeshift ponytail, grip tight. You pulled off looking above you to see Mike’s tightly closed eyes, your hand replacing your lips, keeping pace with what you made with your mouth.
“Do it”
Mike opened his eyes quickly, “Are you sure?”
“Stand up and fuck my throat baby, ‘s alright”
Mike stood upright, keeping his grip on your hair as you shifted your body around to get comfortable.
“Just smack my leg if it gets to be too much pretty girl”
You nodded in response, wasting no time opening your mouth for his cock, placing both hands on his legs, gripping tight in preparation for what was about to come.
Mike went right to work, shoving in and out quickly, getting spurred on by the tears and sounds coming from you. Pushing your head back and forth in a bobbing motion, gagging every time he pressed as deep as possible.
“Look so pretty with my dick in your mouth” He pulled your mouth off him, and you moved your hand from his thigh to stroke him. He took a moment to look at your cockdrunk expression. Lips puffy, tear-stained cheeks, your chest breathing in and out heavily. “You going to let me cum in your mouth baby? Tell me, pretty girl, tell me what you want”
He felt your grip on his dick tighten, you moved one of your hands to touch yourself over your lace panties, feeling your wetness soaked through at his words. “Yes sir, want your cum in my mouth.”
You went right back to work, lips wrapping tightly around his dick. You gave him head as your life depended on it, needing to see how he looked while he came, what sounds he’d make, what mess he'd make.
You started to feel Mike’s hips falter, his once strong movements becoming staggered and you knew he was close. “Fuck- I’m coming. Fucking take it.” You looked up at him, dick pressed far down your throat, feeling the hot liquid start to seep out the sides of your mouth. “Swallow all of it. That’s my good girl”
Mike let go of the grip on your hair and pulled out of your mouth, wincing at the overstimulation. He pulled you up to lay on your back on the bed, leaning over you. You watched Mike’s fingers on your thigh, collecting the spilled cum that fell from your mouth, and placing them in his mouth. The salty liquid kept in his mouth until he leaned his lips towards yours, you opened your mouth with anticipation. A long string of cum filled spit falling into your eager mouth, gulping instinctively.
“Had to make sure you swallowed all of it” he murmured before pressing his lips roughly to yours. You laced your fingers around his neck, pulling him down further, needing to be closer to him. You moaned when he pulled away to start kissing your neck, sucking and biting to mark you up. He pulled your underwear off and started to rub his dick against you, feeling your hips joining him in the motions.
You were in a state of bliss, never even thinking this feeling was a possibility. Mike handling you like his own personal fuck toy, marking you up to show you off, his cock grinding against your clit like he was going to cum just like that. You push him off of you, flipping him over to get on top, straddling his thighs. You lined his dick up to your entrance, going at a slow pace to adjust to his size, stopping to steady yourself when you got to the end, hands on his chest with your eyes closed.
Mike was patient, as much as he wanted to destroy you and your tight pussy, he wanted you to feel good. He kept one hand on your hip, keeping you steady, moving the other one to your clit, trying to help get you comfortable. Almost immediately you moaned and started to move your hips, painfully slow up and down.
“You look so beautiful like this, stuffed full of my cock.” Mike’s hands moved to your hips, helping you move faster and faster. With your pretty tits in his face and your tight cunt wrapped around him, eyes rolling back in your head and your moans loud enough the entire hotel could hear you.
“Fuck daddy, you feel so fucking good” Mike groaned at your voice. The name causes him to rut his hips up to meet yours, causing you to fall forward, holding onto his shoulders. His pace was fast and rough, hands in a tight grip on your sides, nibbling on your neck as he pounds into you, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. “You going to cum on daddy’s cock? Let me feel you, baby, show me how good I make you feel.”
“Gonna cum daddy, s’ fucking good” You moan in his ear, nails digging into his skin as you come undone, mumbling a string of thank yous. Mike’s movements start to slow down, trying to give you a moment to recover.
With your breath heavy, you bring your lips to Mike’s as you slowly pull off of him. You pull away from the kiss and both hiss at the loss of contact, you sit up on your knees, locking your eyes with his own.
“Want you to bend me over,” Your voice is soft as you slowly start to bend over, arching your back “and make me take it hard.”
He is quick to get behind you, taking his dick in his hands and rubbing it up and down your wet slit. “my pretty fucking pussy” You push back at his teasing movements, clit pulsing and eyes rolling back.
“Mike please”, you beg. He brings his hand down and suddenly you feel a sharp sting on your ass, yelping in surprise. “Come on pretty girl, you can do better than that.”
“Daddy please, I need you- need your cock. Need you to fill me up and-” Your words were cut off, Mike pushing deep into you, moving quickly, causing you to lose your breath.
He grabs your hips and starts to pull you back onto him as he slams deep inside, hitting that spot inside you. “Fuck baby, taking it so good for me”
He grabs your hair in his hands, pulling your back to be flush to his chest. He nibbles at your earlobe and places his hand on your neck, squeezing lightly.
The feeling was unbearable, the room filled with deep breaths and skin on skin. Goosebumps cover your skin as Mike’s grip on your throat gets tighter. You could feel your orgasm approaching, tears forming in your eyes.
“Taking me so well baby” You moan, his praise pushing you closer. “Tight little pussy fits so well around my cock”
“Fuck- ‘m cumming” You feel your body unravel, thighs shaking as you start to see spots. Mike lets you go and you fall forward. He gives you three deep thrusts before his pace starts to fall, signaling he’s close. “Me too baby, me too”
He gives one last deep push and releases deep inside you. You both lay there for a few moments, panting and euphoric. He groans as he pulls out and you turn to lie on your side, watching him as he walks to the bathroom. He comes back with a warm washcloth, wiping you down. He sets it on the table once he’s finished and sits down beside you, moving your head so it can rest in his lap as he starts to play with your hair.
You lean up to kiss him, biting his lip as you pull away, smiling to yourself as you notice he’s growing hard again. You stand up, legs slightly wobbly. “Care to join me?” you smirked towards him as you sauntered towards the bathroom, hips slightly swinging. Mike watches as you walk away, eyes lingering all over your body. You turned to face him as you reached the doorway, waiting for him to follow you.
“We’re definitely going to take advantage of the late checkout” He chuckles as he stands from his spot to start round two in the shower.
#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt#mike schimdt x reader#fnaf#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson smut#nev writes
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Muse
synopsis: Xavier just wants a picture of you so he can draw it. things don’t go according to plan…
warnings: blowjob, penetration, fingering
it was an accident really. a genuine, complete, accident. you just wanted to support your talented friend who had been begging you for a subject for his next painting.
“please! it doesn’t have to be a good photo of you, I just need one for reference” he says exaggeratedly as you make your way to class. his giant frame is never an inch away from yours if he can help it, and today is no different. he’s tugging on your arm like a lost puppy as he begs you to be his muse for the millionth time.
“oh, so you’re saying I take bad photos?” you reply snidely.
he grins widely, knowing your games too well by now “you know that’s not what i meant” and gives you a playful push.
“i’ll think about it xavier, but you should really find another victim”
“i believe the correct term is “muse” dork”
“keep calling me dork and see where that gets you” he puts his hands up, mimicking what he would look like “surrendering” to you.
Xavier wishes he could hide how excited he is to draw you again. He can’t wait to combine his two favorite things: you, and his obsession with art. what you don’t know is Xavier wants to take this opportunity to ask something he’s been too shy to say for years….
when the seemingly never ending school day is finally over, he walks you to your room. your hallmate left for the week, so it was just you and Xavier sprawled out on your bed. he sat at the foot of it, legs crossed while yours were draped over his lap.
he eagerly awaits you to send him a picture while you briskly scroll through your camera roll. you finally deem one appropriate for his next masterpiece, a selfie of the two of you. his arms wrapped around your neck while you’re giving him a jokingly disapproving look. at least, that’s what you think you’re sending him. Xavier however, receives a completely different image that you accidentally sent instead.
he quickly taps on the notification with his pencil ready, opening up a photo of your breasts on display. “o-oh my god”
“what?!” you exclaim, confused at his reaction.
“are you sure that’s what you want me to draw?” he says timidly.
“yeah, unless you have a problem with it i guess” it’s too late now, you’re absentmindedly scrolling through your phone.
Xavier tries to start drawing, he really does. truthfully, he started getting hard the minute he opened the photo and now he’s trying to get a grip on his pencil, which won’t stop shaking in his hand. you can feel his dick rising since your leg is still on his lap, causing you to look up.
this is when you notice he’s shaking. “Xavi, what’s wrong?”
Xavier can barely bear the nickname right now, combined with everything else he’s experiencing.
“i’m- i’m sorry. i don’t know if i can draw this” Xavier shows the phone to you and you turn a shade of red he doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.
“oh shit! oh fuck i’m so sorry oh my god fuck!” you cover your face with your hands.
Xavier, although nervous, tries his best to reassure you and puts a gentle hand on your leg. “it’s ok, i just didn’t think we were at that level, you know?”
you spread your fingers, peeking your eyes through “it’s fine, really” he gives a weak, bashful smile. a part of him kind of wishes you did send it on purpose, and it’s not like he hadn’t thought of his best friend naked before…
in a desperate attempt to change the subject you ask “does that hurt?” while staring at his now erect penis that creates a tent in his sweatpants.
“um- i- “
“i can help you with it if it does- i read somewhere that it hurts when you- you know-“ words are coming out of your mouth faster than your brain can process what’s happening now… “if not we can forget this ever happened and i won’t tell anyone- i promise” you’d probably regret saying that later, but right now, you can’t help it. you’ve had the biggest crush on xavier forever and if you’re being honest, you’re in a pretty similar aroused state right now.
“i don’t know… i don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable po-“
“i want to” you cut him off “i’ve wanted to for years Xavi” you’re crawling towards him now.
“do you want to?” you ask him, although the evidence is all over his face, he looks almost pained. his mouth is slightly agape and his eyes are focused on your lips. lips that he has thought of kissing for months now, but this time, he doesn’t resist the urge.
Xavier can’t hold it anymore, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you. it’s hesitant at first, both of you in shock that it’s finally happening. it takes seconds for it to get sloppy. you break apart only to climb on xavier’s lap, and you don’t miss the distressed look he wears as a result of moments apart from you. you’re quick to relieve him, sitting down with your thighs on either side of his hips, and both of you stifle a moan when your clothed cunt makes contact with his dick. now it’s your turn to grab his face and he loves every second of it, wanting nothing more than to fawn over you as you use him for your pleasure. you, however, won’t have that, stopping at nothing until he’s completely ruined.
you take his bottom lip between yours and suck on it, and Xavier swears he’s seeing stars. he starts getting messy as both of your lips are covered in each other’s spit and that alone is making him dizzy. he doesn’t even realize he’s begun to grind his hips upward trying to relieve himself in the friction you’re creating. you tell him to pull off his t-shirt and he does so immediately, and you do the same. he smoothes his hands up and down your waist as if you’re made of glass, looking you up and down with a mixture of reverence and desire. you almost want to laugh at him because you’d never imagine seeing your best friend like this, looking at you like he’d been starving for days and desperate to kiss you again, but you settle for giving him an amused smile.
“what is it?” he asks with the most precious look of confusion on his face.
“you’re so cute baby” his eyelashes flutter and he looks away, he shifts slightly while trying to pretend the new pet name doesn’t turn him on more. you can tell that he’s smiling too now, internally giddy.
you start to leave a trail of kisses down his neck, and he lets out a pleasure filled sigh. when you start to teasingly lick his abdomen he tenses up again, and you hear a soft “ah” escape his lips. you unbutton his pants and pull down his boxers and Xavier starts to tremble. he looks down at you with watery eyes and you take his dick in your hand. he lets out a hiss at your warmth.
you start to kiss his shaft and his brows furrow but his eye contact never wavers. if xavier could have this moment tattooed on his brain, he would. when you take his head in your mouth and suck he jolts, unable to control his movements at this point. you slowly take more of him into your mouth and hollow your cheeks. you start to stroke xavier’s leg with your free hand and xavier’s gaze softens at the tender gesture.
you slowly take him deeper into your mouth, astonished that you’ve made it this far without choking. “fuck” he cries as you fit all of him in your mouth. you start a slow rhythm of sliding your lips up and down his shaft and xavier lies back, helpless to your actions. you can feel how tense the muscles in his stomach and legs are, doing his best to hold back his impending orgasm. as you speed up, xavier begins to babble uncontrollably, a mixture of “you feel so good”, “you’re so pretty, fuck!”, and so on. you fondle his balls and he’s almost sent over the edge, but you pull yourself off of him just in time.
he stares at you, dazed “did i do something wrong?” god, you’d do anything for those puppy dog eyes.
“no baby, just wanted you to come inside me, is that alright?” xavier wants to pinch himself.
“y-yeah” he leans in for another clumsy kiss, drunk on the feeling of being so close to you. it’s full of tongue and lips crashing together, but quickly ends with a gasp as you guide his cock to your pussy.
xavier watches himself enter you in a trance, completely mesmerized at your facial expression and the stretch of your cunt. when your fully seated, a tear falls down his cheek. you admit, you may have overstimulated him a bit. you wipe it away with your thumb and apologize. “i’m sorry for making you wait my love” he doesn’t seem to care at this point.
Xavier reaches his arms around your waist and pulls you in closer, causing you to moan at the adjustment “you’re s-so warm” he lets out.
“can i take this off?” he says as a hand slides over the clasp of your bra.
“yeah” you reply, and he begins to fiddle with the hook. he slides it off of your shoulders.
“so, do you think i’m a catfish?” you inquire. he lets out a wholesome laugh and you follow suit. Xavier gently pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places his palm on your cheek.
“i think you’re the opposite of a catfish” you blush and attempt to turn your head away, but he pulls you in for another kiss. he moves to kiss the corner of your lips, then your chin, your jaw, and finally stops at your neck. he nibbles your jugular and then sucks, and your hips buck forward as he finds your sensitive spot. Xavier moans and you take this as a sign to keep moving.
you grind down on him and Xavier does his best to mentally prepare himself for the onslaught of pleasure. he’s already about to cum, holding on just so he can get you to try to finish first. he slides his hands down to your ass pushing you down on his cock while he pushes his hips up, effectively guiding himself deeper than you thought possible. you yelp and Xavier watches your features contort, repeating the action so he can listen to you moan again and again. he shifts one of his hands close to your cunt and guides a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circles, prompting you to jolt and start bouncing on his cock more eagerly than before.
“shit- shit- fuck!” Xavier doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore, he only knows that he’s been close to cumming for more than an hour now, and he’s about to burst. you wrap your arms around his neck for stability and pick up your pace.
“oh my god” he whines and his grip on your hips tightens. you realize how close he is, so you stop your movement.
“no- no! i need it please” his head falls into your neck and you stroke his back.
“i know my love, i just need you to ask for it nicely okay?” he lifts his head and you coo at his tear stained cheeks. “do you think you can do that for me?”
“y-yeah” you start to move again immediately, not wanting to prolong his suffering any further. Xavier cant stop himself from thrusting into you, and you let him, enjoying the look in his eyes as he starts to fall apart.
“are you gonna cum soon baby?” you ask after a particularly hard thrust.
“y- yes please- please can i c-cum?” Xavier is shaking uncontrollably now, his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated.
“yes my love” you smile “but you can’t take your pretty eyes off of me okay? i want to see you” Xavier is blushing harder than ever, he’d never admit that’s what sent him over the edge. he does his best to keep his eyes on yours, his mouth open and letting out angelic moans while his nails dig into your hips. he thinks your the most beautiful person alive as you keep up your pace grinding on his cock. his brows furrow and fresh tears arise as you continue to speed up, a look of tortured confusion mixed with euphoria on his face.
“i- i can’t please!” he wails. you finally cease your movement, panting. xavier pulls you into a tight hug, kissing your sweaty body in any place he can reach.
“thank you, thank you, thank you” he repeats between kisses. you flop down onto your mattress, and xavier hovers over you, smothering your face with kisses.
“baby, i want to make you cum now. can i? please? need to watch you cum” he babbles.
“you don’t have to Xavi, but yes” you’re still catching your breath.
“i want to” and without hesitation he slides his fingers to to your sopping cunt. “so wet… such a pretty pussy” you bury your face in the pillow.
“no need to be shy my love…” his thumb rubs over your clit and your thighs clench. he pushes them open gently, eyes fixated on your pulsing cunt. he slides two fingers in, feeling his own cum inside of you and trying his best not to get hard at the sensation. he curls his fingers upward and your hips shift at the sensitivity. he holds them down with his free arm and continues his ministrations. he probes for your most delicate spot and knows he’s found it when you squeeze his arm and whimper. you lift your head again and he meets your eyes, staring at you as he quickens his pace. you’re already worked up so it doesn’t take much after that, but what sets you over the edge is his decision to take your clit into his mouth and kiss it sloppily. your legs shake and kick and he happily continues to thrust his fingers as you ride out your orgasm, grinding down on them.
now you’re truly exhausted, and Xavier curls up next to you as you continue to catch your breath. “y’know, i was going to use the painting as a way to ask you out…” you perk up at this.
“really?!” xavier beams at you.
“yeah” you pull him into a kiss and he doesn’t stop smiling.
#xavier thorpe wednesday#xavier thorpe fanfic#xavier thorpe smut#wednesday#wednesday xavier#xavier x reader#xavier x y/n#xavier x you
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.
Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut
Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore
Chapter Word Count: 2803
—-MDNI—-
A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.
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Please read the below first:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
I’m Not Your F*cking Maid
Chapter 3
The rest of that day was pretty uneventful. Charlie practically threw my sad lone duffle bag through the front door and left before I could give her a piece of my mind for just leaving me here. I helped Sam put away the groceries he’d bought, emphasising that ‘we don’t put things down, we put them away’, otherwise we end up living in filth again. I also cleared some space around the study area that seems to be the centre of the bunker, and much to my dismay, threw out even more take-out boxes and beer bottles. I arranged all of the research that had been left on the desk in a mess, organising it into piles of read and unread; or at least what looked read and unread to me. The whole time Dean sat at this very desk and was watching cartoons on Sam’s laptop whilst his brother was in the shower, letting me do all the dirty work as he just sat there and relaxed. When I was finally done, I slumped down in the chair opposite him and slid all of the neat stacks of research towards myself. Dean looked up at me, his relaxed ‘cartoon-watching’ expression fading slightly.
“What are you doing?” He asked. I looked up at him like he was stupid.
“What do you think? I’m catching up on what you guys have been researching.”
He closed the laptop and folded his arms across his chest, the cotton of his flannel pulling tight over his large biceps.
“That’s such a waste of time.”
“And why, pray tell, is it such a waste of time Dean?”
“It’ll take you days, maybe weeks to catch up on what we know - either me or Sam can give you a rundown on what’s most important in an hour,” his tone was very matter-of-fact, like he didn’t want to be argued with. I sighed, crossing my arms on the table in front of me, leaning forwards.
“That’s great, you can still do that, but the more clued up I am as to what is going on then the more chance we have of finding what you need,” I paused for a second, a thought flashing across my mind. “Come to think of it, you haven’t even told me why I’m here, other than to ‘do research’. What are you looking for that has you so stumped?” Dean sucked a breath in through teeth, shifting slightly in his chair.
“The Fist Blade,” his tone had a thickness to it that I couldn’t place.
“The First Blade? As in Cain and Abel? THAT First Blade? ”
“Bingo.”
“But surely that’s long gone by now, it’s been two millennia at least. Nothing can last that long…can it?” I asked almost rhetorically. Dean shrugged.
“That’s what we want to know too,” his eyes flicked up and caught mine, his gaze burning into mine for only a moment with such intensity I felt my breath catch in my chest. The dark purple bruising on his face around his eyes made that forest green even more vibrant and alluring. There was a pause - for some reason I couldn’t look away and I had to catch myself before glancing at his bruised lips, which I knew already were devilishly charming. Right as I gave in to temptation and saw the corner of Deans poor split lip twitch into a smirk, Sam saved the day by striding in, towel-drying his hair. He paused, looked at us and frowned quizzically, almost like he was more surprised that we weren’t throwing furniture at each other. He didn’t say anything on that topic though, because as he looked around he noticed I’d cleaned. Again.
“(Y/n) you really have to stop cleaning up our mess,” he smiled, hanging his towel on the back of his chair as he took a seat next to me, his long legs grazing mine slightly.
“Sam just say ‘thank you’,” I tilted my head up to him - he was still enormous even when he was sitting down. He laughed slightly, almost bashfully as he looked down for a second at his twiddling thumbs before locking his eyes with mine again.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I returned his smile at last, holding it for a few seconds before continuing: “So Dean has just been explaining to me what you’re looking for. Surely the First Blade is long gone by now? How would it have survived this long, and still be functional - not just some pile of dust?” Sam huffed out an already exasperated breath, slouching back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, much like how Dean was sitting.
“I have no idea, at this point I feel like we’re grasping at air,” we all mumbled in agreement, suddenly sitting in a solemn sort of silence. It was short lived though as Sam leant forwards, pushing his damp hair from his eyes and trying to lighten the mood.
“Guys why don’t we just leave it for a few hours and get something for dinner? It’s getting late and we should really eat.” Dean suddenly sprang forwards, sitting up straight and lacing his fingers together on the desk with a grin on his stupid face.
“Good idea Sammy - I can’t wait to try her cooking. If she can cook half as well as she cleans then we’re in for a treat.”
“You son of a bitch!” I jumped up, grasping the first thing I could find (a file on God knows what) and smacked him across the face with it. Deans head turned with the force - albeit not much - and another stupid grin crept onto his stupid lips. He chuckled his deep, chesty laugh and tenderly touched his already sore face, wincing slightly.
“Just for a second I forgot you hated my guts,” he drawled, rising to his feet.
“Well you don’t do yourself any favours by talking to me like that.”
“Yeah? Well maybe if you weren’t such a hot head you’d be able to take a joke.”
“A joke? You call that a joke? Jokes are supposed to be funny, Dean, there wasn’t even a punchline,” I had started to raise my voice slightly and he gave me an extremely puzzled look.
“Hold the fucking phone - are you mad at me because I ‘insulted’ you or are you mad that there was no punchline?”
“I’m mad at YOU, because you’re just trying to rub me up the wrong way on purpose!”
There was a pause, and a smirk and a twinkle in Deans eye.
“Well I’m sure if you ask Sam nicely he’ll rub you up the right way.”
“DEAN!” Sam and I both cut in at the same time and when I glanced at him I noticed a faint pink glow on his cheeks.
“What?” He threw his hands up, “Sam you’ve been acting like a schoolgirl around her since we met her at the diner, always jumping to her aid first. Just admit you have a crush ok?” Dean gave his younger brother an ‘all knowing look’ as Sam covered his face.
“Dean I’m going to pretend you never said any of that and just move on,” Sam turned to me and said in a hushed tone “I’m so sorry,” before looking back at his brother, who was now reaching for his jacket. “And where are you going?” Sam quizzed.
“To get dinner, that’s what this whole conversation escalated from right? About what we were going to eat? Well I’m going to get takeout, what do you both want?” Dean said, throwing his hands into his jacket pockets.
“Dean sit down,” I chimed in, my voice sterner than I intended.
“What?”
“Just sit the fuck down. Both of you. Carry on researching and making yourself useful,” I said, moving away from the table.
“Why?” Sam did as he was told but Dean looked at me like I’d asked him to eat tofu.
“Because I’m not letting you boys eat yourself to death with E numbers and MSG. I’ll cook something,” and as the words left my mouth I saw Deans eyebrows raise so much I thought they might push his hairline back. Before he could get a single word out Sam spoke on behalf of both of them:
“If you’re really ok doing that, (Y/n), you’ve already done so much today-”
“Sam it’s fine, I really don’t mind. I actually enjoy cooking, and since Bobby’s been gone I’ve had no one to cook for. So yeah it’s ok,” I smiled at him reassuringly, and he smiled back.
“Ok, if you’re sure,” he paused, looking to his older brother who had removed his jacket and was taking a seat again, “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to just because Dean-”
“Really Sam, I’m fine with it. I was planning to cook even before the jackass opened his trap.” The younger Winchester gave me a final ‘ok’ before I spun on my heel and walked towards the kitchen, not even bothering to give the older Winchester a second glance.
I guess it’s time to find out what these boys have lurking in their pantry.
*
I’d been cooking for maybe half an hour when I was finally done and called the boys to the kitchen. I set three places at the table, and placed down three beers and enough cutlery for all of us, alongside various condiments they might want. I was just serving up as they walked in, muttering to themselves about something they’d researched. As they both sat down, I placed two plates in front of them and watched their faces light up.
“STEAK!” They both had wide grins as they picked up their cutlery and immediately dug in.
“Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing special. Plus the fries were frozen and the mac ‘n’ cheese was instant,” I said, placing down my own plate and taking a seat between them.
“Don’t care, ‘s home cooked,” Dean said with a mouthful of food, reaching for his beer. Sam just nodded vigorously in agreement.
“Well ok then,” I smiled to myself, I guess a little happy that they were happy. And for once that Dean had nothing smart to say. Yet.
*
Dinner was pretty uneventful - and short - as the boys practically inhaled their food. When their plates were empty they just sat at the table in a happy silence, rubbing their full bellies.
“Considering you just used what we already had and didn’t go shopping for anything, that was fucking beautiful,” Dean said, stifling a burp. I looked at him in surprise.
“Oh… Thanks Dean,” I half smiled down at him as I stood to collect their plates. He put his hand out to stop me, taking them from my grasp and pushed gently on my shoulder, urging me to sit. He returned the half smile, standing up.
“No problem. Now let me do this, you’ve done enough for us today already. Take a break,” his voice was low and strangely kind towards me, and I was almost lost for words as I felt his firm chest brush against my arm as he took the plates from me, his body heat reaching my skin through the fabric. Was he being serious, or just leading up to be a dick in a rather roundabout way? Who knows. But I should try to appreciate the moment at least.
Dean washed up whilst Sam dried everything and put it all away, and I sat sipping my beer as they bustled about for a few minutes. Once they were done, Sam took his seat back at the table and Dean grabbed the tea towel, roughly wiping the surfaces and flinging it over his shoulder when he was done.
“And now it’s pie time,” he said suddenly, sparks of joy in his voice. I grinned.
“Oooh, can I have some?” I asked. Dean turned to look at me like I’d asked him to shoot a puppy, and Sam muttered an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.
“Can you have some?” Dean repeated my request back to me, those sparks of joy in his voice no longer there.
“Yeah…please? I saw it in the fridge earlier, there’s definitely enough to share,” I stated, starting to feel like I was missing something here. Sam cleared his throat and I turned to look at him, an unusual expression on his face.
“Uhhh…(Y/n), Dean doesn’t share his pie. Not even with me.” Dean slammed the fridge door closed, said pie now in hand.
“You’re Goddamn right. The pies mine, now back off,” he gave me a warning look as he grabbed a fork and sat back down next to me again.
“Fuck me; really? What are you, a child? Who the fuck won’t share a pie made for four people?” I asked, getting exasperated with Deans bullshit. I knew the kindness wouldn’t last.
“Me.”
“Fuck you.”
“Guys, I’m gonna go and get some sleep - I’ll be back in a few hours. Thanks for dinner (Y/n), it was great,” Sam stood and pinched the bridge of his nose, not being inconspicuous at all about being done with bickering between Dean and I. He smiled softly at me before he left, patting my shoulder as I said a quiet ‘sleep well’ to him before he exited the room. Then it just left me and Dean. Again.
“Just one slice,” I asked abruptly, watching him shovel pastry into his face.
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Dean I made you dinner and tidied your shit, the least you can do is give me a slice,” I slid forward in my chair, inching closer to him in a new attempt to get him to share.
“No.”
“Pretty please?”
“No.”
“Fuck,” I threw my hands up before leaning forwards a little more so I was now close enough to smell him. And annoyingly he smelt divine - his cologne mixed with the scent of old leather and woodsmoke, perhaps a little gunpowder too. I breathed in, trying to get to the sweet smell of the desert he had, but all I could smell was him. I tried to ignore it. He was still a douchebag.
“One bite?” He sighed and turned to look at me, noses almost touching as I flinched back, not realising how much I’d shuffled towards him. He sighed, dropping his head slightly.
“Ok, just one bite,” he said as I did a very quiet squeal of delight. I reached for the fork in his hand but he held it up out of my reach, shaking his head.
“No. Not you.”
“Dean, come on.”
“Open.”
“What are you-”
“Open your mouth,” he said sternly, those evergreen eyes finding mine.
“Wait wha-”
“Open your Goddamn mouth (Y/n)” he said, his voice turning gravelly as I felt his breath on my face. I felt heat start to flood my cheeks and I couldn’t tell what emotion it was coming from, as I had started to feel a lot of things all at once. What made my head spin a little though was hearing my name fall from his lips - he hadn’t said it before, at least not to my face. And I hated myself for liking how it sounded. I didn’t say anything to him as I eventually did as I was told; opening my mouth and instinctively sticking out my tongue a little. I wasn’t sure where to look, so I looked at him - the concentration on his face as he scooped up an acceptable amount of pie to part with was amusing to say the least. Happy with my tiny portion, he turned to me and put the fork on my tongue, to which I closed my lips around as he slowly pulled it from my mouth, leaving the amazingly sweet desert behind. With my eyes now closed, I couldn’t help but hum in delight, savouring every flavour before I swallowed it down. Slowly opening my eyes again, I wasn’t expecting to see Dean still watching me, lips slightly parted as his gaze flickered between my eyes and my sticky lips, which I was now licking clean. He seemed to catch himself quickly though, immediately scooping up more pie for himself and cramming it into his own mouth. I sat back in my chair, picking up my beer and draining the bottle.
“Next time you buy a pie, Winchester,” I started, standing and tossing the bottle in the bin, “buy one for me so we don’t have this problem again.” He looked up at me just as I turned to leave.
“No promises,” his lip quirked slightly - so slightly that I wondered if he’d even smirked at all. I scoffed, giving him one last look as I rolled my eyes before I left the room to continue researching.
“Fuck you.”
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Up Next:
Chapter 4
#dean winchester x reader#dean x you#dean x reader#dean winchester smut#dean winchester#dean x female!reader#dean winchester x reader smut#dean winchester x you#dean x y/n#dean winchester enemies to lovers#enemies to lovers#eventual smut
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hello hello can you please do a fic about autistic!reader who has auditory sensory issues, specifically where they get incredibly anxious when those around them are loud when it’s not very socially acceptable to be so? and so when reader, dealer!remus, and very high james and sirius go out to dinner (or anywhere in public really), james and sirius are very loud and reader is anxious about it and remus has to remind j and s to quiet down?
idk if that makes sense. its super specific but it’s a huge problem for me and I never usually say anything about it, but I feel like remus would <3 I love your autistic reader it makes me so happy, especially them with remus <333
Baby are we the same person???
“It’s very loud,” Remus heads you through gritted teeth as you stab at your chips.
It’s pub quiz night so the probability of the bar being overly loud and crowded had been high, but you hadn’t wanted to rain on James and Sirius’ high parade and joined them.
You’re regretting your decision the longer the quiz goes without them getting a si gel answer correct, yet shouting their wrong answers across the pub.
Remus can tell you’re a couple minutes from just bursting into either tears of frustration or just leaving altogether.
“James, you’re screaming mate,” Remus says as he steals a piece of your cod. “Sirius you’re not far backward either. The point of the game isn’t the shout your answers.”
You send him a grateful smile when he gets the boys to quiet down, but the ‘peace’ doesn’t last for much longer than three minutes when some bloke’s shoulder checks Sirius’ and he’s halfway out his seat screaming profanities.
“Siri, James, let’s go.” Remus hauls them both up and shoots you an apologetic look before closing up your box and leaving some bills on the table.
“We were having fun Remmy, why did you have to be a spoil sport?” James’ talking voice is a mix between a screeching owl and a whine that reaches hz you’re not attuned to.
“Because you’re heckling and you’re being raucous and it’s stressing y/n out,” it’s then that the boys look at you and find you look piqued- even though you hadn’t had anything to drink or smoke.
“I’m sorry, angel,” James at least has the gall to look apologetic and when Sirius turns your face to his, you swear he might cry just seeing how uncomfortable you look.
“Sorry dollface, forgot we were being so loud,” his voice is a stark difference now, whispers where he’d been screaming. “Can we go to the chippy Moons? Fancy a fried cod and mushy peas.”
As you all file in the car, you let James and Sirius share the little left of your own fish and chips and Remus kisses your temple as he drives off.
“Music?” He asks and you shake your head. He didn’t think so either.
“Can we drive with the windows down? It’s nice and chilly tonight.”
“Whatever you want, baby.”
#dealer!remus#dealer!remus lupin#remuslupin#remus lupin#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin fic#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin x black!reader#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x yn#tism🤝
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