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#i was having burn out so this seriously made my day

bunny-lily · 1 day

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Tether Me - Chapter 5: Part 2

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader Summary: Finding them wasn’t hard, not when they towered above everyone else with ease, and not when the people parted between you and them like the Red Sea. In spite of how many were gathered for the event, and the fact that the day wasn’t even about them, they monopolized all the attention without effort.

Of course, they would.

They were picture perfect – handsome, strong, alluring. They were the cream of the crop, even when they weren’t trying, and would be in any place they went to, not just within this small place you’d chosen to settle down in.

Something cold settled at the base of your esophagus as you processed what you saw.

Fairy lights wrapped around the pergola, dipping between the wooden beams to create a droopy weave, illuminating the short dais used to officiate the wedding. A swarm of tables surrounded the front of it, dozens of candles lit all about. Plates were set atop each table, and the slips of paper to indicate whose seat belonged to who had been set aside when everyone took their place earlier to feast.

Meals were exchanged for dancing and partying, filling the landscape with loud festivities.

It resembled a dream, this hazy setting and ambient glow at the center of the park.

Dozens upon dozens of people had gathered to celebrate the day – you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire village had shown up. Given how tight-knit the community was here, it was logical that everyone and their dog would come to rejoice in the special occasion. It was lively with the sheer amount of people around, each chattering excitedly, high off the triumph of two coming together as one.

Following suit of the many before you, you had slipped off your sandals, using Satoru’s hand as support while you tucked them away somewhere out of the way, but easy to find.

The grass was pleasant under your bare feet, fluffy and cool, but not so cold as to be biting.

Frequently, you would skirt your hands along the texture of your dress, preening from the delight of feeling pretty. The last time you’d dolled yourself up like this was far enough in the past for you to not remember, so you were a tad obsessed.

You manifested being sexier as you were falling asleep in bed, and here you were! Sexy was the understatement of the century – you looked hot.

Too bad you were a hint shy of showing off during a wedding in a village you’d barely begun sprouting roots in.

Satoru and Suguru had no similar qualms.

They were wholly eager to pose and strut you around on their arms like a queen. It was humiliating and exhilarating in equal measure. Acrimonious discontentment from other guests vying for your position rolled off your hydro-proof form, boosting your ego and leaving you untouchable.

It was humorous, really, to watch them fall over themselves to get the attention of one or both boys, blocked by the armor your existence alone made of them.

Good Lord, though, there were a lot of them.

You mentally tried to calculate how many of the people attending knew about Aoi’s and her fiancé’s – now husband’s – escapades through the evening. Maybe it was the whole village. You imagined it would be hard to not know; they sounded like foxes, or mountain lions, if she was in the mood to sound particularly murder-victim-esque.

You were grateful you didn't have to interact with the groom and bride much. Anytime you saw them, you remembered his bare ass on the one night you forgot about Shoko’s warning about Thursdays and learned the consequences the hard way. His half-ass (literally) had been seared into your mind.

Seeing familiar faces here brought you a comfort you didn’t know you needed, coaxing you to release your wound muscles. Granny was across the field, talking to Shoko and Iori. Scolding, more like. The old lady was tugging on the edge of Shoko’s mini dress, no doubt reprimanding her for the length of it.

Shoko could not have possibly been less bothered.

She had a drink in one hand, lit cigarette pinched between two fingers and pressed against the glass, and a shiteating smirk on her lips. You’d only ever seen her in baggy or thick clothes, but, wow, she pulled off that outfit like a model.

Utahime was hanging off her arm, three beers in and working on a fourth, using Granny’s distraction to chug away shamelessly. In contrast to Shoko, her clothing was modest, consisting of a floral-patterned maxi dress, her hair tied back into one ponytail as opposed to her typical pigtails.

You’d seen Kazuhiko, too, surprisingly. You two talked briefly, your short conversation consisting of you updating him on the state of your house and promising to show him at the next opportunity as his wife was dragging him off to socialize. His wife was hyper, enthusiastic about meeting everyone and sharing her congratulations to the couple. You envied her innocence, wishing for her to never have to experience what you did.

The sound of someone calling – screaming, to be more accurate – your name captured your attention. You spun, and found Suguru’s mother frantically waving her hands high above herself, as if she didn’t stand a head and a half above everyone else.

You grinned and waved back, then tugged on the sleeve of Satoru’s suit. “I’m gonna go talk with Suguru’s mom. I’ll be back soon.”

He and Suguru were placing bets on who would get shitfaced first between Utahime and Shoko, and barely spared you a nod. “Don’t take too long, princess!” He implored.

You vaguely confirmed you wouldn’t as you made your way to the woman, who came to meet you halfway, too impatient to wait for you to approach.

“Hi, Geto-mama,” you said, and swiftly got squished to her chest in a bone-crushing hug.

“Oh, my sweetie!” She squealed. “Aren’t you just the prettiest thing? Goodness, that dress looks amazing on you! Did you pick it out? It fits you so well!”

She spoke like a full-auto gun, babbling out words faster than sound.

“Thank you,” you rasped out, patting her back. “It was Suguru and Satoru, they got it for me.”

She grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you back to get a good look at you. She inspected your outfit from head to toe, scrutinizing. Eventually, you gained an extra dash of approval from her, making you feel honored.

“They did a fantastic job, those two. You look gorgeous, baby girl. Even better than the bride,” she acclaimed.

You blushed. “Don’t say that! This is her wedding!”

She bent down and cupped a hand around your ear. “Forgive me for favoring my beloved girl over the bride. Those two go at it like dogs, it’s hard to look her in the damn eye after seeing her husband’s bare ass.”

You gasped. “You, too!?”

Sympathy shined in her caramel eyes. “Oh, my darling child, the world is evil to have subjected you to the sight of that man’s poor excuse of a behind.”

You burst out into laughter, Yoriko doing the same shortly after. It was relieving to know you weren’t the only one traumatized by the sight of a pasty pair of cheeks, even more so that it was Geto-mama who understood your pain.

“Think they’ll go at it again tonight?” You asked, fanning your face to keep tears from ruining your makeup. “Y’know, consummation and all that.”

“Heavens, I hope not,” she feigned a gag. “I’ll down all the alcohol here in one go if they do that in the park of all places. God forbid they do it while the party is still going. At the very least, they could have some decency to go into the mountains, far from here.”

“How many people do you think know about their, uh…activities?” You questioned, pointedly glancing around.

She stood akimbo. “Oh, it has to be everyone. I can hear them from my house, and that’s on the other side of the river. Thursday nights, we put on a movie and turn up the volume louder in hopes of drowning out the sounds. I mean, honestly, he can’t be that good at it.”

You hummed. “I thought someone was hurt when I first heard them go at it. She sounds so…”

“Scary,” Geto-mama finished for you.

“Right!?” A full-body shudder went through you. “I didn’t know people could sound like that.”

She sighed and shook her head, choosing to move the topic over a few notches in a safer direction. “Well, aside from all that, how are you enjoying the wedding, sweet girl?”

“Unexpectedly fun,” you said. “I’ve only been to two other weddings in the past, and they were boring to the point of pain. Nothing to do, y’know? I wasn’t anticipating this one would be a borderline festival.”

“Everyone works together to make weddings memorable around here. We’re all one big family, in a sense. Their joy is our joy,” her lips pulled up into a motherly sort of fondness, directed at you. “You’ll see when it’s your turn, baby girl. I’m glad you came, I was worried you’d be overwhelmed. You’re always welcome, you know?”

You didn’t want to disappoint Yoriko by telling her you wouldn’t be getting your own turn. Instead, you looped your arms around her waist and squeezed. “Thank you, Geto-mama. I’m happy I got to see you today!”

She patted your head. “Likewise, sweetheart. Now, off you go! I’m sure the boys are missing you, I’ve kept you long enough.”

Releasing her, you stepped back, beaming at her. “It was good to see you! We’ll talk more soon?”

“Absolutely!” She agreed and made shooing motions with her hands. “Go, go. Don’t keep them waiting!”

Taking her advice, you faced the party and sought them out. They weren’t where you last left them, likely having moved around to mingle and share in the merriment. You stood up on your toes, searching for either ivory or obsidian tresses.

It didn’t take you long.

Finding them wasn’t hard, not when they towered above everyone else with ease, and not when the people parted between you and them like the Red Sea. In spite of how many were gathered for the event, and the fact that the day wasn’t even about them, they monopolized all the attention without effort.

Of course, they would.

Something cold settled at the base of your esophagus as you processed what you saw.

You wished you hadn’t seen them.

You wished they were hidden so that you’d have to push through a crowd to find them. Maybe then, you would have been too close to realize. If that were the case, you would have had a chance to stop what was unraveling in slow motion before you.

They were surrounded by a group of girls – beautiful girls – each one fluttering their thick lashes and puckering their merlot-painted lips. You could hear their obnoxious, high-pitched giggles from clear across the field, over the music and yammering and the droning spring air. One grabbed onto Suguru’s arm, hugging it so tightly between her bust, you thought she might cut off the circulation in his fingers between her tits.

Instead of pulling away, he tipped his head down and said something you couldn’t decipher from attempting to read his lips alone at this distance, to which she laughed.

Something uncomfortably tight formed in your chest, a twist centered beneath your breastbone. It pinched, stung; a poisoned needle shooting straight into your stomach.

Paper lanterns.

A knife had wedged itself between your innards too snuggly, the exact same temperature as the rest of your body, the only proof of its existence being the displacing sensation of your intestines and the spreading chill that zapped under your skin like instant ice. The pit in your belly dropped to your heels, heavy as a sack of sand.

Your fingertips trembled, frozen over and stiff and numb, regardless of the warmth that they contained mere moments ago.

You felt sick, and you didn’t understand why.

It came on so suddenly that you never would have been able to avoid it, even if you knew it was coming. The rotting sensation burrowed itself deep into your gut, impossibly dense and suffocating. Its hands crawled up your insides, wiggling between your ribs and lungs to wrap spindly fingers around your throat.

Satoru winked at the lady in front of him.

Those fingers squeezed.

You got the inkling that they didn’t want you to be their date for the sake of, well, being their date. For the sake of laughing, dancing, eating, and drinking together. For being with each other, with your friends, cherishing the evening by toasting and clinking glasses and sharing stories. For meaning something to one another.

It was for the sake of keeping annoyances off their backs.

The women only flocked to them as soon as you left for a few minutes. Together, the three of you were unapproachable, and you were unbothered by the vile, envious glares pinned on you. Hell, you found it funny.

Now that you were gone, their shield had been removed.

This wasn’t about you and them, it never was. It was only about them.

In a trio, there’s always a duo.

It was your fault for getting greedy, for deluding yourself into believing you were more to them than a barrier. You had nobody to blame but yourself for the clawing sensation creeping up the column of your gullet that forced saliva to flood your mouth, lest its acid slip out.

Respiring felt so difficult, like trying to inhale through a straw, each gasp shallow and dizzying.

You siphoned a thick breath in, a quivering thing, and immediately regretted it as a wave of nausea coated your insides, choking you, sitting on your epiglottis.

Disgust curled in your gut as the girl attached to Suguru’s arm leapt up from her tip-toes and planted a kiss on his cheek – one that left a stain in bright red in the shape of her lips, vaguely love-shaped.

She marked him.

She marked Suguru, who hated the feeling of anything sticking to his skin. Suguru, who hated having his personal space invaded. Suguru, who hated excessive affection.

Suguru, whose lips curled upwards.

Suguru, who gave the peppy girl that smile, the one you adored so much, the one that always lifted your spirits and made you feel safe and seen.

The one you thought he only gave you.

Suguru, who shattered your heart.

Tether.

Something in you fissured, then simply broke. The stilts holding you up hewed, sending you careening towards the ground with no way to catch yourself.

The winds died, the gales gave your fragile wooden frame one last, harsh clap, and you were falling.

Kite.

You couldn’t stand the suffocation anymore, couldn’t stand to see them be so inviting and enticing to everyone. You feared you’d throw up if you stayed any longer. What you had already seen was soldered to your consciousness, engraved behind your eyes so that every time you closed them, you saw Satoru and Suguru, basking in affection.

Forgetting you.

Nobody noticed you walking towards the edge of the plain, where you had left your sandals in favor of enjoying the soft grass under your soles while you pranced. Your sandals were in the same spot you left them, amidst the ocean of others.

For some reason, they were abnormally strenuous to put on. Your fingers vibrated viciously, frustrating you as you shoved your feet into them and tried to slip the ends of the straps through the buckles.

You cursed under your breath, struggling, fighting. Once you finally managed, you pulled them hard, clearly over tightening them. You didn’t care. You just wanted to leave. To go far, far, far away.

The second you were certain they wouldn’t fall off, you stepped onto the road and turned towards the direction of home.

Your home, where you’d be alone.

You ignored the sharp pain of the cords digging and cutting into your Achilles tendons, too caught up in the hurricane of your emotions to pay attention to much else.

A tornado whirled through your skull, jumbling everything until you were left with a sensation of panic thrumming beneath your skin, scratching from the inside out. Words were thrown, lost, confused, but one thought shined clear as day.

Run.

The streets seemed so much darker. It had to have been your imagination, seeing as you were leaving the massive gathering, where life and light was. It only exacerbated your anxiety, urging you to run faster, break out into a sprint, leave everything behind.

The voice was back, the one that crowed and trilled and spewed acrid threats into your ear. The one that whispered how worthless you were, how you weren’t wanted, how you had to turn tail and vanish ayond eyesight. You’d overstayed your welcome.

You didn’t understand what you were feeling. Anger? Betrayal? Hurt? Fear? Plain old sadness?

You didn't know what, and you didn't know why. All you knew was that you hated it.

You had no reason to feel this way, and would not be vindicated for doing so. Why had it mattered to you to see them flirting with others? Who were they to you?

Your friends, obviously. That’s all they could be.

If that was the case, who were you to them?

…Were you their friend?

You didn't want to think about it. It made the strained clamps around your lungs constrict further, you couldn’t afford it.

The shift between asphalt and packed dirt went unregistered by you, all sensation to the physical world lost. Goosebumps raised along your arms, prickling, yet you didn’t sense it. Not the way you clawed at your forearm for a sense of stability, searching for anything to ground you.

A year.

You lasted a year.

A new record to be proud of, throwing the last one out of the water by a landslide. You hadn’t stayed in one location for nearly as long as this since you were a child.

You should have been bragging to yourself, parading with the knowledge that you might have been getting better after all this time.

All you wanted to do was die.

You hugged yourself, staving off the cold by reflex more than conscious action. The houses had become further spaced out, the sidelines blurred. Your body was moving on autopilot, unseeing as muscle memory took you the rest of the way home.

What were you doing? Thinking? You should have known this would happen. You did know, but chose to ignore it, and for what? You played yourself by getting attached when you were aware from the beginning that it would all come to an end sooner or later. You got greedy, took more than you were allowed, selfishly ripped a mile from your mind when you were offered less than an inch.

This was your fault. You were the cause of this. You became complacent. You stopped walking when you should have just kept going.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot, you goddamn, stupid bitch!” You whisper-shouted at yourself as you dug the spare key out from under the doormat and jammed it into the lock of your door, unaware of the exact timing of your arrival. The door fought against you, further enraging you.

Your feet ached, skin sore and wounded, yet it felt like nothing in comparison to the gnawing in your stomach. Your body was on fire, begging for reprieve, anything to lift the pain and mend the hurt.

You shoved open the door and angrily stomped inside, slamming a palm against the wall on your left.

Barely two steps into your home and you had all but ripped off your sandals with enough force to damage the straps. The relief of pressure off your ankles only served to aggravate the reddened and tender flesh affected by your apathy towards yourself. Exposed to air, your heels throbbed. You tried to let it anchor you, but it didn’t work.

Wrathfully moving forward, you grabbed the bottom hem of your dress and tugged it over your head and off yourself harshly. Your arm wound up to throw it, but your body seized, a shock zapping through your nervous system.

Even in distress, with your mind anywhere but a state of clarity, you still couldn’t bring yourself to disrespect something given to you.

Something they gave you.

Your hands trembled as you laid it across the back of the couch, plucked the corsages from your wrists to place on the coffee table, and you used your pent up energy on your poor bra instead. You unclasped the sucker and catapulted it somewhere with all the force you could muster, and chased it down with a long-suffering scream that tore up your throat.

How fortunate you were to live where nobody could hear you retch and sob.

Every nerve in your body felt like a spring, pressed down, ready to burst. All under your skin, live wire writhed, raring to shred through measly flesh and bone. At this point, you just wanted it to be over with. You’d let them leer and scorn as they seared through your senses agonizingly, then shut off your feelings altogether, so long as it put you out of your misery.

The tightness in your muscles made you shake and wheeze, pain jolting from the center of your chest, down your limbs, stinging in the tips of your fingers. Doing anything was a struggle in this state.

You hated what adrenaline did to you.

You hated yourself.

Gritting your teeth and resisting the urge to claw your way into your own stomach, you channeled that energy into rushing down the hall to your bedroom.

That poor door didn’t deserve to have your anger taken out on it, but you couldn’t find a shit or two to give. Not now, not when everything around you was collapsing. Skyscraper zeniths were crumbling, towering concrete monstrosities aiming to crush you.

And, hell, you’d let them.

Your dresser earned itself a beastly growl from you when you opened it too harshly, causing it to close back up. You wanted to tear everything apart, to rake your nails through wood and stone and bone and dig until your nails were broken and dirt was caked deep into your dermis. Surely, then, the pain would go away.

Clothing rustled violently, short of enough friction to start a fire by a millimeter. You scavenged, unsure of what you were searching for until your fingers closed around the texture your brain subconsciously required to calm itself.

You pulled out the t-shirt, and stalled.

It was the one Suguru gave you. Rather, the one you ‘stole’ with his blessing, but his regardless.

The black material was soft in your grasp, worn and well-loved, a few sizes too big for you. There was a faded band logo on the front of it, colors now grayscale after years of appreciation.

Your hands visibly trembled as you loosened the unfair death grip you had on the top. It didn’t deserve your indignation, your pain. It didn’t deserve to have its fibers pulled too far, to have its devotion to being a quality material shorn from it. It was a shirt, after all, not the source of your suffering.

Its previous owner was; that didn’t shift the blame to the cloth.

But it reminded you of him.

It reminded you of what you saw at the park, the helplessness that came with having your world crumble before you even knew you were living in it, the hopelessness that came with knowing you’d never be able to rebuild it.

It reminded you of the chai he made, of the way he’d coat your clean hair with leave-in conditioner to smooth down the frizz and encourage silkiness.

The way he’d hold your hands in winter to keep out the burn of frost, the way he’d let you lean against him as he read, the way his long fingers would diligently trace the sketched pattern of your wall, painting life into it.

It reminded you of what it meant to be happy.

Your teeth clicked together, jaw jittery. You clenched it, muscles jumping in your neck.

It didn't help.

The shirt moved around in your palms, peeled open to allow it to slip onto your bare self, covering the short hairs that sprung up from the chill of being naked.

A shaky breath filled your lungs, and you pressed the heel of your hand against your sternum. Your heart thudded and wept so loudly, so angrily, so painfully. You could feel it all the way through to your elbow, hear it beat against your eardrums, taste its toxic copper on the back of your tongue.

Most of your mind had shut down to a lowered percentage of function that made everything fuzzy. You were missing time. How long you stood in your room, doing nothing, you didn’t know. You weren’t aware you had gone to the bathroom until you were partially through cleaning off all the hard work you’d put into prettying yourself up.

You stopped, staring at yourself in the reflection.

You looked…tired. Felt it, too.

You looked like you were hanging on by your fingers, losing trust in your strength.

It was so tempting to let go.

Choosing not to waste more energy than necessary on it, you finished what you started, washing away the color and vitality from your face. Bit by bit, you lost more of who you were, and gained more of who you used to be.

Ordinary. Unmemorable. Broken.

Beneath the façade existed the truth you’d tried to cover, to pretend didn’t exist. For months, you’d succeeded in this endeavor, in playing the part of normal. It was catching up to you, and you were out of breath, exhausted, and empty.

You couldn’t avoid it any longer.

Prying your lids apart, you peered at the bottom of the mirror, meeting the unwavering, morbidly curious stare of a young girl.

You looked like her, a little. Same eyes, same curve to your upper lip, same hair color. You were older, familiar and not at the same time. Your eyes were sunken, cheeks hollow. Physically present, but not entirely there. Eyes glazed with a thousand-yard vacancy.

She peered back at you, doe-eyed with innocence and yet-to-be-abandoned faith. Her head fell to the side, little hands holding the edge of the sink to see better. Silently, she tried to pick you apart, to figure out who you were, why you shared a face, but looked so dead in comparison.

What did she see, you contemplated. Did she see hope for the future, the reassurance that she’d grow up, have her own home, be safe from the clutches of a man unloving? That it’d all be okay one day?

Or, did you break her dreams down with the reality that it never would, all without saying a word to one another?

If you could speak to her, what would you say? Would you sit her down, hold her hands, and tell her to give up while she was still ahead? Would you be brutal in your honesty, crush her with the fact that entropy was hovering by the corner, waiting to pounce on her the moment she let down her guard? Would you sit and watch as her confusion morphed into fear, then sadness, then acceptance, all without ever once showing sympathy?

Or, would you lie to her, as your mother had? Would you run your fingers through her hair listlessly, promising her a world that would never be hers? Would you promise her the Sun and Moon, knowing they’d never belong to her?

All those options, yet you stayed mute. You didn’t have anything nice to say to her, so you said nothing.

She opened her mouth, but closed it again, choosing better of it. Hopping off the stool she stood on, she moved away from the mirror and exited the bathroom, and you were seeing yourself again, as you were at present.

There wasn’t much worth examining. Exhaustion and weariness, that’s all there was.

You padded out of the room and to the kitchen, opening a cupboard and standing on your toes. Mugs lined the bottom shelf, but they all went ignored in favor of a specific one.

Your fingers closed around the handle of the ceramic you wanted, taking it from its storage. The surface was smooth to the touch, fired to a glossy sheen that protected its shape and paint.

There was a reason you wanted this one in particular – Satoru had given it to you.

He’d made it himself. He didn’t tell you how, or when he’d done that. You brought into question whether he did make it, or if he was only claiming that to impress you, as it was too well-made to have been created by a novice. Your doubts were dispelled when he had you flip it over and graze your thumb over his signature. It was stamped into the material, indented into clay before being placed in a kiln.

On closer inspection, there were imperfections in it. Bumps, ridges, the hallmarks of something created with his own two hands. Of course, you treasured it. Nobody had given you a gift like it before, and the fact that it came from Satoru only served to further your adoration of it.

You dropped a tea bag and two sugar cubes into it, waiting for the water in your kettle to boil.

The house was dark, all lights extinguished save for the stove overhead and a lamp in the living room. More would only cause you further undue pain. You weren’t sure if you could handle any more, it risked crumbling you completely.

Alertness was returning to you in pieces. You were more aware of your environment and what you were doing, the trade off being completely zoning out in bursts.

The kettle whistled, and you turned it off, pouring the liquid into your mug. Amber leaked out of the tea bag, seeping into the surrounding clearness. Steam rose up, smelling of chamomile and lavender. A suggestion from Suguru.

He was everywhere. Satoru was everywhere. Even in your own home, you couldn’t escape them.

Realization hit you like a train rolling down a hill at full speed, crashing directly into your fragile self with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs.

A teardrop, leaden and blisteringly hot, rolled over your cheek. It carved a new track for itself over your dry skin, beading downwards, following the curve of your jaw, eventually dripping off your chin after accumulating enough weight. A small ripple formed in your ignored tea, inconsequential and so, so powerful. It stirred the seas, warning of rainfall.

“You’re in love, idiot,” you whispered to yourself.

The physical realm dissipated from your perception, replaced by visions of them. The two dorks that somehow found a way into your heart, who convinced you to stay without saying a word. The days you spent together under the sun, dipping into the river, watching movies and eating popcorn. The endless amount of time they spent helping you build yourself a home, picking out paint colors and floor styles and furniture, aiding you in constructing something that was yours.

Everything around you was because of them. The Sun and Moon you were promised, dominating the skies everywhere across the world. They swallowed the world, they were everywhere you looked, at least one of them visible at all times.

Of course you loved them, who wouldn’t? They were perfect.

They breathed, and the planet breathed with them. Flowers bloomed for their sakes, the oceans’ tides bent to their wills, the stars reveled on the tracks they created as the solar system they ruled hurtled through space. It was only inevitable you’d fall for them the same way everyone else had.

You tried to laugh, but the noise that came out was more akin to a wounded animal than a girl having a grand revelation about herself.

Where had you gone wrong?

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Suguru grimaced at the uncomfortable sensation of lipstick residue on his cheek, immediately grabbing a nearby napkin to wipe it off as soon as the girl who left it there pivoted to smack the arm of the girl beside her. The smile he gave her was so tight-lipped and strained, he was worried he'd pop a blood vessel.

He couldn't stand the feeling of any sort of lingering texture on his skin. It made him hyper aware of the spot and caused his flesh to crawl uncomfortably. What happened to personal space? Decorum?

Basic respect for one’s autonomy? Not invading someone’s territory to toe the line of assault?

He got groped more times than he cared to count, and though he smirked and pretended to indulge the hive of bees trying to roast them alive, he was disgusted. He felt nauseous and filthy, the air stifling and sour. How much more of this would he have to endure?

“I miss our mochi,” Satoru lamented to him, not doing all that better. “What’s taking her so long?”

He scanned the field for any sign of you. You weren’t hard to spot, and you said you’d be back soon, yet it had now been…

Suguru glanced down at his watch, a frown marring his expression. Twenty minutes had passed since they last saw you. That was much longer than what he would have liked. Five minutes would have already been pushing it, but twenty? Just how distracting were these girls that the pair lost sight of you for twenty torturous minutes?

“Do you think she’s okay?” He asked the man beside him. “She’s been gone a while.”

Blue eyes narrowed as he, too, began searching the sea of heads to try and spot your hair, or the sparkle of the dress they had given you. Nothing, nada, zip. His jaw clenched, anxiety beginning to spawn beneath his lungs.

He faked a smile to address the annoying group still hounding them, pushing his way out. Though he usually loved the attention, it was insufferable to him now. “Sorry, ladies, I need to do something real quick.”

“Aww, Satoru-san, come back!” One whined, giving him an exaggerated pout.

“I’ll be just a minute,” he responded automatically, already having pointed his attention elsewhere. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed your number as he walked further away to distance himself from the excessive volume of the party.

The phone rang. Once. Twice.

His head twisted in the direction of a familiar ringtone.

Three times.

By the chair you had been sitting at earlier that evening, eating with everyone at your table, your purse sat unattended.

Four times.

He stalked towards it and crouched down, mentally apologizing to you for digging through your stuff.

Five times.

He pulled out your phone, seeing his own contact displayed on the screen. You never changed it, still the same as the day he created it. ✨❤️Satoru❤️✨ flashed on the LCD, mocking him.

‘Hey, sorry I missed your call. Feel free to try again later if I don’t call you back first. Thanks.’

Voicemail.

He pulled his own phone away from his ear and stood slowly, glancing over towards the line of shoes not far from him. Yours were missing.

“Shit.”

He stuffed your phone back into your purse and looped it onto his wrist as he hurriedly made his way back to Suguru, who initially looked relieved upon seeing Satoru’s return, only for that rigid façade of his to disappear instantly.

“What is it–”

“She left,” Gojo interrupted.

Geto’s expression darkened. “She left? Are you sure?”

“Her sandals are gone. Her purse and phone are still here, I can’t reach her.”

“Fuck,” Suguru muttered, pushing his way out from the burning honeybee group, breaking from their restraints. The cries and plaints of the swooning girls had filtered into the background to the two boys. “Where do you think she went?”

The pale-haired man led the other out towards the edge of the clearing. “Dunno. Fuck, we should have been with her. What if something happened to her?”

“Let’s not jump to the worst case, Satoru. Where’d you last see her?”

He scraped through his memory, trying to recall. It was too noisy, whirring filling his mind. The last time he could remember seeing you was when…

His body spun, and he marched over to the two other people he could think to ask.

“Utahime, Shoko.”

Utahime glanced around, her expression souring upon seeing Satoru. “Ugh, it's you. What do you want?”

“Have you seen her?”

She raised a brow. “Seen who? Need a name or something.”

He said your name, and the sass in her withered away. Her distaste twisted into worry as she realized he was being dead serious. “Wait, she's not with you guys?”

“You lost her?” Shoko asked incredulously, aware of the endearment the boys felt towards you.

“That's why we're here,” Suguru said.

Her fingers pinched her chin in consideration, concern etched in her browline. “Isn’t she with Yoriko-san? That’s where I last saw her.”

The nox-haired man searched about, spotting his mother as she gossiped with her other mom-friends. “Mom!”

Unperturbed the sound level, the woman’s head snapped up, always aware of when her child called for her. She speed walked towards them, brows knitting in worry as she grabbed his hands. “What’s the matter, baby?”

“Have you seen angel?” His doting name for you slipped through in his stress.

If she noticed, she was kind enough to not point it out, recognizing the severity in his tone. She frowned. “She told me she’d go look for you boys after we chatted. She could have gotten lost? There’s many people here, after all.”

Satoru shook his head and lifted your items for emphasis. “Her sandals are gone, but her purse and phone are still here.”

Yoriko took a good, long, hard look at both boys. She saw something in their faces they didn’t know, and her shoulders slumped a few inches. Her grim expression changed into a different mien – remorse? Shame?

“I bet you’ll find her at her house,” she stated, releasing Suguru’s hands.

Suguru and Satoru matched one another, disappointment and distress burrowing in their guts. You really had left? Why?

“Her house?” Satoru mumbled. “Why?”

The older woman crossed her arms over her chest. “Normally, I’d discourage men from seeking out women when they want to be alone, but I’m making an exception for this case.”

“Alone? Do you know what happened?” Shoko probed.

Yoriko hummed noncommittally. “She probably saw something she didn’t want to see.”

“Saw something? What? What’d she see?” Satoru was becoming frenetic.

She shook her head. “That’s not for me to say. Go talk to her, boys.”

That was all the encouragement – or, rather, ordering – the two needed. They hardly spared a word to the others as they darted off, marking your house as their destination.

Questions swirled in their minds, individual and linked all at once. Why had you left? What had you seen? What the hell was Yoriko talking about, and why in the world was she so damn vague about it? She clearly knew more than they did, the least she could have done was clue them in on it.

They didn’t speak to each other, both busy in their own heads as they raced to your place, hoping and praying they’d find you there.

The streets were too dark for Satoru’s liking this removed from town, the road illuminated by the sorrowful moon hanging above. The idea of you walking alone unnerved him, set him on edge. You could have gotten hurt, or worse, or – oh, god, what if something bad happened to you? You’d been alone this whole time, and they didn’t know. Where did you go? What were you thinking?

Geto was known to be the calmer of the two. Steady, logical, rational.

He was beyond ration right now. He alternated between wanting – needing – to take you into his arms and never let go, to assure himself that you were okay, alive, there, and wanting to reprimand you for your behavior. You should have let them know, told them you were done and wanted to go home. They would have walked you, protected you, taken care of you.

He milled his teeth to control himself. He couldn’t assume, he didn’t know what caused you to leave. Hell, maybe you hadn’t gone at all, and you all merely missed each other at the party?

Suguru was the first one to make it to your door, knuckles rapping against the wood.

Satoru was panting behind him, alternating his weight between his feet, ready to book it back to the park if he had to.

There was silence on the other end, then, very faintly, they heard rustling.

Movement from inside, confirming you were here. Now, to answer the remaining questions.

They were prepared to interrogate you, but all those words died on the backs of their tongues, tasting of ash and soot, when the door peeled open.

Oh.

Red rimmed your eyes, your cheeks still damp after you tried to hastily wipe them dry, your brows wound tightly together. Confusion flickered across your features first, tailed by embarrassment.

Something did happen to you.

You had been crying.

“Angel?” Suguru stepped forth and cupped your jaw gently, thumbing away at your tearstained skin. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Instead of leaning into his touch like you so yearned to, you forced yourself to pull back, giving a painfully fake laugh. Your voice was fraught, a little raspy, wet. “Nothing happened. Everything is fine, why do you think something happened?”

“You’re bad at lying, mochi,” Satoru refused to let you dodge the topic. “What happened? Who do we need to beat up for making you cry?”

“Gu-uys,” you hiccuped and tried to turn away further, to recede deeper into your house. “Seriously, I’m fine–”

“You’re not fine,” Suguru grasped your upper arm and pulled you towards him. “What happened?”

Your eyes flickered between his, then Satoru’s, words stuck to your palate. How easy it would be to say I wish you’d look at me and not those girls.

I want you.

I need you.

How easy it would be to just spill your heart and soul out onto the floor, say the things you wanted to tell them, but knew you couldn’t.

I love you. Both of you.

If you told them, you'd ruin everything. And then you'd have to run.

Again.

All you knew was how to run.

You didn't know how far you would make it if you lost everything you had created, grown, and made here, with them.

You squeezed your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palms to brace yourself. Focus on the pain. “I just don’t…really know anyone from the party. Not personally, anyway, so…I didn’t wanna be the odd duck out, you know?” Lie. A terrible lie, and everyone present knew it. You pushed on regardless. “Haha…would be kinda weird for the new girl to hang out at this wedding when nobody knows her. I-I was feeling a bit tired, too.”

You were aware that you were rambling, but you couldn’t stop it naturally. You opened your mouth, and it was hard to close it again.

You'd been living here for a year. It was a poor cover up at best. While it was true you didn’t know a good amount of folks on a level further than acquaintances, it's not like you were a complete stranger to these backwoods. And there were people you knew well enough to consider friends besides Gojo and Geto.

Satoru’s frown grew, but he decided against pointing out your fallacy. “But, we know you, mochi. Why didn’t you come back to us? We were waiting for you.”

“Oh,” you broke eye contact, peering elsewhere, anywhere but them. Your fingers trembled as you tucked your hair behind your ear, trying to shove out the discomfort in your chest at the reminder. The scene played in your mind all over again, of the boys talking to those girls, smiling at them, laughing with them.

You had to make yourself believe it was something else causing your ribs to cave in on your lungs.

It wasn’t jealousy. Really, it wasn’t.

But…if it wasn’t jealousy, then why did you feel sick to your stomach when you witnessed one of the girls, who was prettier than you, grasp Satoru’s collar and pull him down to whisper things in his ear? Why did he smile like that afterwards? Like he liked what he heard? Like he liked her? What did she say? Why–

You swallowed thickly, the sensation dry as it scratched down your gullet like nails on sandpaper. Your throat was too crammed, too tense, too itchy. It took all your strength to speak normally, and even then, you weren’t sure you succeeded.

“You guys were busy,” you finally replied.

“Busy?” Suguru repeated, his inflection powder soft, his eyes softer.

Don’t, you pleaded silently. Don’t talk to me like that. Don’t stare at me like that.

If you knew what that does to me.

If you knew what you both do to me.

You nodded and plastered on a faux simper, one that twitched at the corners of your lips and didn’t reach your eyes. “You had a whole flock of girls around you. Who am I t-to take the attention of the two most eligible bachelors away from them?”

Damn you for stuttering, and damn your voice for growing uneven, and damn you for being a mess. Weak, pitiful. Since when were you so mellow, such a pussy?

The boys had the audacity to let their faces morph to show their confusion, as if trying to recollect what you were talking about.

Suguru was the first to piece together what happened, if the way his eyes widened minutely was anything to go by, but Satoru spoke before he could. And more bluntly, too, of course. “Oh, sweetie,” he hushed, tension dropping from him as a grin drew up his mouth. “You’re jealous.”

You startled and lifted your hands to deny his accusation. “N-No! What? Haha, th-that’s– no, it’s not like th-at at all!”

He put on a smug mien as he crossed his arms over his chest, acting like he just figured you out.

He did, technically, but you didn’t want to give him that victory. Especially not over such a benign and childish matter as this.

“Angel,” the noiret allayed himself, delicately cupping your cheek to nudge your head in his direction. “Is that what’s going on? Were you jealous of those girls?”

Your jaw flexed. God, it sounded pathetic. Jealous over a group of gorgeous women who had more to offer than you? It’s not like either boy was interested in you romantically anyway, and you weren’t dating one or the other. You had no reason to be jealous, you weren’t owed anything.

It wasn’t fair for you to expose such petty problems to them, let alone blame them for it. They may have had your heart, but you didn’t have theirs.

Yet, your lip wobbled, your lungs refused to work properly, and your eyes welled up, anyway. Biting the inside of your cheek raw wasn’t fending off your emotions, not anymore, and you couldn’t dislodge the frog from your throat long enough to talk.

The worry in Suguru’s expression melted away, replaced with understanding and something else you couldn’t decipher. His fingers shifted from holding your cheek to curling over the back of your neck while his other hand coiled around your waist, bringing you close to him. His forehead pressed against yours and his breath fanned across your cheeks, slow and measured.

“You have nothing to be jealous about,” he reassured you with a sympathetic murmur.

The tears fell before you had a chance to stop them. It could have been the wine you drank earlier, or the overstimulation from the party.

Or, it was the way they held the glass fledgling budding in the nest of your soul carefully in their hands. They had cracked the shell casing it had, the one that protected you from making attachments. They pushed the gates wide for everyone, all the close friends you made in this village sneaking into your life without you noticing, and the boys were at the front, leading the pack.

“I’m s-so-sorry,” you stammered out, sucking uneven gasps of air past your bottom lip. Your arms wound tightly around his neck and you buried your face against his shoulder, muffling your sniffling. “It’s– it’s stupid, so stupid. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, angel. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he comforted you, rubbing your back in easy circles.

Satoru came to your side, sweeping your hair away from your neck. “You really don’t need to be jealous. We’re not interested in any of them.”

“We don’t want any of those girls,” Suguru’s deep voice rumbled against your chest. “We want you.”

Your heart stopped, broke, started, and sprouted new petals at his confession. It bounced in your head, struggling to stick, to process, to be true.

“B-But they’re–” sob, “s-so…much more. They’d do– do any-thing f-for you – hic! – you.”

“And you?” Suguru checked, his voice barely a whisper as it brushed against your neck. “Would you do anything for us?”

His question stunned you. You froze, your thoughts hovering, struggling to focus when they both were close and warm. Your head lifted slowly, eyesight blurry as your gaze flickered between them.

The Sun and Moon incarnate.

What a stupid question.

You worshiped them and the ground they walked on, a devout and zealous follower. You’d listen to everything they told you with reverence; you'd pray for them day and night, you’d water the soil with your own blood if they asked.

“...Yes,” you breathed out, finding balance while adrift at sea, a moment of peace in the cyclone of your emotions. “Anything.”

Satoru huffed near your ear and you could feel the curve of his smile where he pressed it into your jaw. “The difference between you and those girls, mochi…”

“Is that, for you, we'd scorch the earth and rend the sky without hesitation, should you ever wish it,” raven hair tickled your shoulder, plush lips hovering on the slope of your neck, brushing over your vulnerable, sensitive pulse.

“For those girls, we would do nothing. Even if they begged on their knees, we'll only ever accept your commands,” ocean-kissed eyes filled your vision, shimmering with raw, unfiltered emotion; something warm, and blazing, calling you like a moth to blue flame.

You shuddered at the vibration from Suguru’s murmurs traveling through your body. “All you have to do is say yes.”

Laying somewhere within the turmoil in your chest, your soul fluttered, yearning, hoping. “You want me?”

“We do,” they replied simultaneously.

“Both of you?”

“Both of us.”

Their resolute answer felt so unreal, so deafening in the fog of your scattered thoughts. Your fingers reached, but hesitated just before they made contact with what you so desired – as if waiting for it to be ripped away. “...Really?”

“Really,” the man holding you in his grasp confirmed, admiring you with such fondness and devotion, you’d think he was seeing a goddess, rather than the simple girl you were. He was pleading more than demanding. “Say yes.”

“Please, princess,” Satoru acted equally as desperate, and it struck you that you’d never heard him say please before, not like this.

You didn’t have to think before you answered.

“Yes.”

Suguru’s lips were on yours as the syllables were leaving you, drawing a surprised squeak from you, followed by a reedy whimper.

There was a distinct snap in your chest, the click of an unbreakable bond emerging. It made your breath hitch and your body tense up, then you melted into him, and everything felt right.

His lips were cushiony and generous, everything you’d ever dreamed of and more. They fit so perfectly against yours, the sides of two puzzle pieces slotting into place. His kiss was gentle, slow, and intimate.

You barely had a chance to delve into it by the time the other boy was tugging you away for his turn.

He was more demanding, rougher, yet entirely wonderful all the same, just like Geto. He connected to you seamlessly, aggressively, contrary to Suguru's tenderness, in a way that had your toes curling and heat pooling in the depths of your gut.

This.

This is what you had been missing all your life.

The safety and sanctity that came with surrendering to a love pure and true.

Hands were on you, everywhere, at all once. You didn’t know which belonged to who; it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered save for the way they caressed you and explored everything, leaving no inch untouched.

Calloused palms slid under the hem of your – Suguru’s – shirt, palming at naked flesh, taking what was no longer yours, but theirs.

Satoru bit at your bottom lip, hard enough to sting, but not enough to break skin, in spite of how you wanted him to. His hunger was obvious, his inability to sate himself with the taste of your mouth alone showing in the way he suckled on your tongue and ventured behind your teeth. The sentiment was mutual. You drank him in with the same fervor, needing more to settle the hollow in your stomach.

A hint of the cake shared at the wedding lingered on him, sweet and rich and exactly like the boy you’d come to love.

Love.

You loved him. You loved Suguru.

And they…they loved you, too, didn’t they?

The way Geto dug his canines into your collarbone and soothed the pricks with chaste kisses, the way Gojo moaned into your kiss like you were his oasis after years of thirst; the way the second gripped his hips with his nails, and the way the first traced the undersides of your breasts with his thumbs, all these actions led you to believe that, yes, they loved you. Beyond words, beyond what could be said and shown.

You were growing dizzy, heady with lust and the lack of air. Satoru must have noticed, as he pulled away a few centimeters, breathing each other’s air.

“What do you want, pretty girl?” He asked.

“Touch me,” you pleaded with them breathlessly.

“Shit,” Suguru groaned into the delicate flesh of your shoulder. “You can't just say something like that while wearing my shirt.”

Any quip you might have had was swiftly replaced with a squeal of surprise when Satoru hoisted you up over his shoulder casually, not breaking so much as a sweat from the effort.

“Satoru!” You squeaked, smacking his back. “I can walk, you know!”

“I can’t wait any longer,” he justified as he kicked off his shoes haphazardly and carried you off to your room.

You were tossed unceremoniously onto your bed, bouncing a couple times as you propped yourself on your elbows. From your spot on your sheets, you had the perfect view of Satoru tugging at the bow on his collar to untie it. He let the ends hang loose in favor of ardently shedding his jacket.

Suguru wasn’t far behind, and in the darkness of your room, their eyes seemed to glow dangerously.

Laser focused on you, you were trapped in their spell, and you’d never wish to break free.

Geto stalked up to you, steps deliberate and resolute, a leopard locked in on its prey. He came to a stop at the edge of your bed, planting his hands on either side of your hips. Starvation ate at the amber of his hues, black holes leaving a ring of gold between the photon spheres and event horizons.

You batted your lashes flirtatiously. “You’ll be gentle with me, won’t you?”

You sounded less coquettish than you would have liked, dyspneic and blistering hot with appetency and anticipation.

He chuckled, gruff and strained. “After all this time, I finally get to have you, and you think I’m going to be gentle with you?”

“Oh, you’re in for it now, princess,” Gojo breathed against your ear, startling you. You hadn’t noticed when he’d gotten behind you, his body heat radiating onto you. “Kept us waiting, made us chase you, there’s no way in hell we’ll be gentle with you.”

“Kept you waiting?” Confusion flashed across your face.

He huffed. “And here I thought I was dense as hell.”

You scowled at him. “Hey! What is that supposed to mean?”

Suguru grasped your chin between his thumb and the curve of his index, fixing your sights on him. “We thought you were being coy at first. Then, after you didn’t pick up on our hints, we thought we were being too subtle,” he angled your head upwards, lips ghosting over your own. “Turns out, our sweet angel is a little oblivious, isn’t she?”

He didn’t give you the opportunity to defend yourself as he was kissing you deep and hard again, stealing your breath away all over again.

It’s not like he was wrong, but you had to counter his argument.

Except, oh, he tasted so good, and the way his palms skirted your sides erased your thoughts one by one.

An unintentional whimper slipped past from your mouth and into Suguru’s as his hand slipped under your shirt – his shirt – and trailed up your side slowly. His skin scorched yours, burning so deliciously that it sent a shiver from the base of your spine up to your scalp, raising goosebumps across your arms and back.

You could feel him smirking as he kissed you, fervent fingers studying the dips and curves of your figure as they traveled up slowly, too slowly, towards where you wanted him to be. He seemed all too entertained by your reactions, the little noises you let out when he skimmed the underside of your breast, purposefully taking his time.

The moment he broke the kiss to catch a breath, barely parting, his lips still grazing yours, you keened and pleaded, not wholly sure what you were asking for. “Please, please…”

“Please, what? Use your words, mochi,” Satoru snickered, his mouth leaving a new patch of wet, saliva-slicked skin on your shoulder that rapidly cooled over the sensitive bruises blooming everywhere he planted them. ”What do you want, pretty girl?”

A whine was trapped behind your tongue as Suguru nipped at your lower lip, tugging gently, encouraging you to speak. “Fuck– fuck me, gods, please.”

“Good girl,” the ravenet grinned and immediately rewarded you by cupping your breast, pinching your nipple between his ring and middle fingers. He tweaked and plucked at it, drawing a gasp from you. “All you had to do was ask.”

Everything became a blur of flesh and clothes from there. Pants were shucked, buttons popped and scattered elsewhere from shirts ripped apart, fabric stripped from your figure until all three of you were naked in the presence of one another.

Moonlight poured into your room through your parted, sheer curtains, providing the perfect amount of illumination to see their Olypmian builds. Lean muscle molded them, impossibly strong and handsome. You understood how Satoru was able to lift you without an issue, now.

Suguru was marginally wider – shoulders broader, thighs thicker, but Satoru was the epitome of a god amongst men. Slender, athletic, ripped, mouthwatering.

You trailed down the path his Apollo’s belt created, appreciating the planes and hard ridges of his chest and stomach, the muscles of his hips, leading to…

Saliva flooded your mouth from the underside of your tongue, stinging as you took in the sight of his cock.

You debated if you were blessed or cursed, because there was no way in hell that thing was going to fit in you.

It stood tall and proud, just like its master. Swelled, curving upwards, the prettiest shade of rose that looked pale pink in the light the moon provided. A thick vein tracked from the base to the left side, and you had to forcefully swallow the spit in your mouth before you started legitimately drooling.

It was long, you were certain it’d knock the air from your lungs if he managed to get it in.

He was on you in seconds, crawling over you and biting into your shoulder to leave his crest. He sucked hard, making sure his claim would bloom into a noticeable flower for you to wear and show off. “You’re beautiful.”

His praise went straight to your drenched pussy, your walls tightening around nothing.

The baritone of Suguru’s words filled the room, an instruction raised. “On the bed, Satoru.”

If you hadn’t seen it firsthand, you would have refused to believe there was ever a time Satoru would willingly follow someone else’s directions, let alone Suguru’s. In front of your eyes, he behaved, rolling off your body to splay himself out on his back, aquamarine orbs never once leaving your figure.

The next directive was given to you. “Sit on his face, baby,” Suguru said, his inflection warning you to listen, daring you to defy him.

You, the obedient hare you were, followed his command without protest. You sat up next to Satoru, threw one leg over him, then slinked up to his face, where he laid and followed your every move, eyes of ice devoured by the impossibly dark lacunae in their centers.

You thought being over him would give you some level of control – how poorly mistaken were you.

As soon as your knees were on either side of his head, his arms wrapped around the backs of your thighs and he pulled you down faster than you could register his movements. He moved at lightning speed, wasting no time in shoving his tongue impatiently against your slicked folds and dragging it through.

His groan echoed your loud, unexpected moan, both of you wracked with sudden pleasure – him, at your taste, and you, at the addicting sensation of him lapping at your cunt like a man deprived of oxygen. Ironic, given the way he was all but begging for you to suffocate him, but you didn’t have the capacity to muse on it.

Electricity ricocheted up your spine, your synapses firing in overtime as he assaulted the hypersensitive nerves of your clit, sucking on it unforgivingly.

“S-Satoru!” You stammered out his name, one hand gripping the edge of your bed, the other tangling in his white, fluffy locks, tugging at his roots in a painful manner, no doubt. The devious keen he let out from the action told you he enjoyed it immensely, the muffled vibrations on your pussy making you clench around the tip of his tongue as it impatiently invaded your hole.

Suguru’s dusky, chocolate shades stayed glued to your form as you unraveled thread by thread from Satoru’s skilled tongue alone, his lips pulled into a dangerous smirk. “Open your mouth,” he rasped.

Your jaw dropped before he even finished his sentence.

You could see the unmitigated ardor flash in his pupils at your unquestioning submission, his cock twitching with the glee of knowing that he did this to you; that he and Gojo turned you into their brain dead beauty, eager and willing to please them however they wished.

His adoration for you was written plain across his face, mouth pouting at your adorableness. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to ruin you. He wanted to see tears glitter in your eyes from overwhelming euphoria, just so he could kiss them away and dote on you like it was the last night you’d all be alive.

Given the opportunity to inspect his manhood, you compared and contrasted it with Satoru’s. While Suguru’s was marginally shorter, it was thick, girthy, and ready to split you apart.

He perched the heavy peak of it on the pink muscle in your mouth that was dying for a sample, eager to guide it in and let it choke you half to death.

“Suck.”

He didn’t need to tell you what to do – the moment his sex was there, you wrapped your kiss-bruised lips around his tip and moved your head to take more of him into your awaiting maw.

Your power over the sounds daring to leave you had left eons ago. You whined like a bitch in heat around his length, the mildly salty and musky flavor of his pre-cum driving you mad. His piquancy tickled some deep-seeded hunger in you, a drop of liquor better than any alcohol ever made. It worsened your thirst, spawning a sine qua non for his cum to quench your thirst.

His large hand threaded through your hair, smoothing down the stray strands as he cupped the back of your head with his palm. His hold was deceptively lenient and respectful, a guiding kneading that set the pace he wanted you to adopt.

“That’s it, good girl,” he said hoarsely, laboring to preserve his composure and not drive his hips to bury his oversized dick deep into your pharynx until he bottomed out, your nose pressed to his pelvis. Not now, not yet. First, he was going to enjoy your suckling and demure kitten licks. “Doing so well for us.”

His validation worsened your arousal, turning that pulsing, throbbing pressure into a borderline painful cramping.

Fuck, you were past salvation.

God help anyone who tried to save you, because you would not let them.

You yanked on Satoru’s hair harder, gripping at the roots for dear life, and grabbed Suguru’s thigh with your other hand. The muscles beneath jumped at the contact, and you groaned. The vibrations from your throat on his cock earned you a whispered grunt from him in turn.

It didn’t seem true, you were still struggling to believe that you had one of them, let alone both.

Touching helped, solidifying the fact that they were there, with you, one eating you out like his life depended on it, while the second was putting your mouth to good use.

Tears sprung to your eyes as the head of his cock nudged deeper, but unlike before, these tears were of delight. You thrived on watching Suguru lose his sangfroid by the minute, sand slipping through his fingers that were going lax with disinterest in holding back.

If you learned they had a telepathic connection with each other, you didn’t think you’d be shocked. In fluid, synchronized movements, Suguru cupped the base of your skull to thrust hilt-deep into your mouth, and Satoru stuffed two fingers into your dripping pussy, pushing you right up to the edge of blissful collapse. His digits were long, wide, bigger than yours and capable of reaching further, of petting a spot that had you choking and gagging on the branch stuck down your esophagus.

He nipped at your clit, teeth straying too close to danger, curled his fingers to attack your g-spot, and that’s all it took for you to burst.

Your orgasm ripped through you in waves, crashing on the beach of your consciousness, addicting as it drowned you in white-hot rapture.

Suguru’s climax was set off by your muffled moaning, ropes of his cum pumping into your mouth and down your throat. You did your best to swallow every drop, mindlessly lapping it up each time his hardness stirred and twitched.

Slowly, he pulled back and allowed you to gasp and catch your breath, his length continuing to throb despite you having sucked the soul out of him.

He aided you in sliding off of Satoru and positioned you on the headboard of the bed, cooing at you for being such a good girl for them.

Satoru pounced on you, too antsy to let you rest. He smashed his mouth onto yours, tongue delving past your parted lips. You could taste yourself on him, in the way he rubbed his tongue on yours, sharing the flavor of your slick; mildly acidic, with a hint of salt and something almost bitter, but not quite.

Tang, the word hit you.

Big hands worked to hike your legs up, hooking them around that svelte waist of his, handsy and groping. The tip of his dick prodded against your fluttering, tender folds, causing you to attempt to retreat from the stimulus.

Keyword: attempt.

He latched his palms onto your waist, preventing you from running away. He huffed, voice husky from gulping down your juices. “Where do you think you’re going, pretty?”

“I’m s-sensitive!” You whined pitifully, fingers raking into his forearms, uncertain if you were trying to shove him away or drag him closer.

“Oh, baby, I know,” he purred with false condolence. “But, you can take it, can’t you? Be a good girl for me?”

Any of your pleas fell on deaf ears, your begging faltering as he notched the tip against your entrance and began pushing in, determined to fuck you dumb.

You hadn’t known it was possible to feel this full until he was bullying his length into you, inch by merciless inch, deeper, deeper.

“Fuck,” he heaved, struggling to maintain control. “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”

You were trying to stay relaxed, to let him carve a spot for himself inside of you, but that fucked out look on his face and his whiny tone had you squeezing unintentionally. He grunted and paused, air whistling through his teeth.

“Don’t do that,” he hissed in warning.

Swallowing thickly, you whimpered, jabbing your sticky palms against his hips. “Too big!”

Suguru swept your hair from your forehead. “You’re taking it so well, though, angel,” he soothed, brushing a kiss to your temple. “Come on, you can take the rest.”

“The rest?” Your eyes widened. “There’s more–!?”

You cried out when Satoru gave you one last lunge to hilt himself fully within you, hips flush to yours, symphysis knocking against your tingling clit.

Heavens above, you swore he was buried up to your diaphragm.

He pried one hand from his hip, exposing the tiny ovals that would undoubtedly fade to bruises come morning, and brought it down to the apex of your thighs. He withdrew an inch at most, unwilling to part further, and guided it down between your thighs. He pressed it against your cunt, spreading your ring and middle fingers apart to slip the base of his cock between them.

“Feel me?” He growled against your cheek, imploring you to observe how you were connected directly.

You clenched around him with a whimper at the sensation, causing him to jerk forward involuntarily, then let out a gruff laugh against the junction of your neck.

“Get to it,” Suguru frowned, restlessness showing through his typically unruffled exterior.

Satoru sneered at him. “Give me a damn minute, I’m gonna cum way too fast if you rush me.”

Leave it to his best friend to taunt him in the middle of sex of all things. “What are you, a highschool boy?”

“She’s got my dick in a chokehold, man,” he spat.

He retracted halfway and sheathed himself again experimentally, testing the waters, and he was rewarded with a moan bubbling free from you.

Hunger flashed in his beautiful, eternal blues, a ravenous desire to hear more of the sweet noises you could give him, and you knew you were in trouble.

All hesitance flew out the window for him.

Any way to describe how glorious it felt to have his cock pounding into you disappeared from your vocabulary, abandoning you with only the ability to let out a petite ah! ah! ah! each time he vanished into you and his tip bumped against your cervix.

Suguru wasn’t content to have you experiencing only one form of stimulation. Set on making you lose your mind, the rough pads of his thumbs rubbed over your pebbled nipples, the contact steering you into arching your back. You weren’t sure if you were trying to push into his touch, or escape it, your body too overwhelmed to decipher your own intentions.

Satoru was mumbling praises to you, nibbling on your jaw and the slope of your shoulder, printing his claim anywhere he could. It went in one ear and out the other, your consciousness torn between the boys as they took you apart and put you back together to fit the mold they created for you.

A pinch and flick to your nipples had you belling in bliss.

Your vision was foggy with tears, blurring the lines between night and light, sky and earth, whose mouth was on you, whose hands were compressing your flesh until it spilled between their fingers. Whether it was Gojo suckling on your breast, or Geto rubbing your clit in rapid, honed circles, you didn’t know and didn’t care so long as it never stopped.

The peak of your second climax was approaching too soon, too fast. You yourself got only a wisp of a warning of its arrival, let alone a chance to warn the boys.

“Gonna– ah! ‘M gonna–!”

Satoru groaned. “Fuck, me too.”

“Say it,” Suguru goaded you on. “What do you want?”

You lugged in a shaky breath. “Wanna cum! Please, I– ngh!”

His lips grazed your cheek. “Cum.”

The strained wire inside the burning heat of your belly gave way to a rush of ecstasy, releasing in the form of a burst of clear spray onto Satoru’s lower stomach. A bell rang in your ears, pitchy and sonorous as you jerked and shook from the pleasure.

That set his orgasm off, his hips stilling flat against yours. Syrupy streams of his cum painted your walls pearly white, never-ending as he kept cumming, and cumming, and cumming.

You were both panting, struggling for air, when it finally stopped. He pulled out languidly, hissing as his soaked cock was exposed to the air. His eyes were welded to your pussy – specifically, the thin rivulet of ivory that leaked out. Unthinkingly, he scooped it up with two fingers and tamped it back into you, enamored by your bleat of objection.

“I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard in my life,” he confessed, sitting back on his heels and running a hand through his hair. “I get the sense that the feeling is mutual, eh?”

Geto kissed the corner of your mouth, kneading your sore chest. “You made quite the mess.”

You blushed and hid your face against your pillow. “Sorry.”

“No, that was hot as hell. Shoulda told me you squirt,” Gojo laughed, voice rough at the edges.

“I didn’t know I could,” you muttered.

He shuddered. “Fuck, you’re so bad for my ego, princess.”

You grumbled, squinting at him. Of course, he would find ways to boost his ego. You didn’t have it in you to mock him, feeling spent.

Oh, but they had other plans for you.

Your world spun as arms hooked under your body, picking you up and repositioning you.

Suguru lifted you onto his lap, setting your hands onto his pecs to keep you balanced. He placed open-mouthed kisses on the hickeys budding on your neck and collar as he pressed on your lower back to make you lean into him and subconsciously raise your hips. You were too hazy to pay any heed to what he was doing until he had the fat tip of his length poking at your entrance, seeking passage.

You jolted back to peer at him with panicked eyes. “Wait, no, not ready,” you shook your head. “‘M too sensitive.”

“C’mon, angel,” he comforted you by squeezing the outside of your thigh. “I know you can do it.”

You couldn’t argue back, your jaw busy hanging as he steered your hips down. Though you had been stretched by Satoru and were immensely slippery with a mix of his cum and your slick, there was still a hint of resistance. You held your breath, trembling as he pushed harder, urged you lower.

The head popped in, and you sank down several inches with a stilted gasp and drawn-out keen.

He inhaled sharply, burrowing his nose into the hollow of your neck, his grip on your hips crushing as he kept you in place. You were reeling from being able to take him to begin with, shaking from head to toe at the delicious sting of the stretch.

“Fuck,” he growled, poise dropping.

“So big,” you exhaled, speech staggered.

Gradually, he eased you onto him, letting you feel him in full. You clutched him like he was your lifeline because, honestly, he was.

You were too focused on not splitting apart to notice the second man in the room kneeling behind you until he broke your concentration by swiping slick from your cunt and pressing the tip of his middle finger against the tight ring of your other hole.

You yelped and whipped your head to the side, staring at Satoru from over your shoulder. “What–”

“Shh,” he nuzzled your temple, trying to distract you. “Just sit there and let us take care of you.”

To your relief, he went slow, letting you get accustomed to the sensation of one of his fingers prodding and toying with your hole. Your tenseness being replaced by breathy keens was his cue to coax a second one beside the first, the two pumping and scissoring apart. A third joined them soon, working you open unhurriedly.

Once he was satisfied, he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his cock, stroking it a few times to smear your arousal onto it.

He positioned himself, one hand clasping your waist to keep you motionless, as if the secure snare Suguru held your hips in wasn’t enough.

“Deep breath for me, pretty,” Satoru requested.

You complied. Heeding his warning, you took a deep, measured breath.

At the same time, he pushed into you, persuading you to let him in with consistent pressure.

A protest crept its way up your voice box, coming out as reedy fussing. “W-Won’t fit,” you croaked.

“It will,” he asserted. “You can take it.”

He abated for a second, and you loosened – then, he thrust upwards suddenly.

“Ah!” You cried out, eyes squeezed shut as tight as possible. Your nails dug into Suguru’s shoulders, deep enough to etch crescents into them, but he only crooned and rubbed his thumbs under your ribs to soothe you.

“You’re doing so well for us, angel,” he murmured to you, pressing tiny kisses to each corner of your mouth. “Taking us so well.”

They both grunted when you clenched down at the revere and Satoru placed his forehead against the curve of your trapezius. His hands held your sides tightly, fingertips no doubt leaving bruises in their wake.

He was buried only midway inside you, and already, he was at his wit’s end. You all were, to be fair.

“Need you to relax, bunny,” he mumbled, nipping at your nape. “Need to feel you. Be inside you.”

Suguru was holding up the best out of the three of you, murmuring sweet nothings to you, stroking your stomach, gently massaging your breasts, anything to get you to ease up and melt into them. He was already bottomed out in your cunt, so deep inside you, you swore you could feel him behind your navel.

Satoru waited for you to unwind, edging into you whenever you allowed it, sinking in more and more until he was finally seated to the base.

All three of you let out weighty sighs, pleased he was able to wrestle his way in.

Nothing could ever come close to the sensation of being crowded and stuffed to the absolute brim like this. You could distinctly feel their cocks rubbing against one another through the thin wall separating your cunt and ass, their heartbeats racing. You were filled beyond capacity, it was a boon Satoru was able to fit himself next to Suguru.

“Good girl,” the noiret beamed at you, smoothing his thumbs over your aching nipples. “Fuck, such a good girl for us, aren’t you?”

“Knew you could do it,” the towhead rubbed his cheek against yours. “You feel so good, baby.”

Satoru moved first, drawing back ‘til the tip remained, then shoved back in. You keened, your head falling back to rest on his collarbone. He took his time setting a comfortable pace, after which Suguru started moving. He guided your hips to grind on his, his motions opposite to Gojo’s. When one was in, the other was out, back and forth, ensuring you were never empty at any given moment.

A rhythm built up, a melody of harmonized moans and cries and filthy promises bouncing off the walls of your room. The three of you became one, a flowing machine, all parts operating together to create a rhapsody of names and skin-on-skin.

They were everywhere, all at once. There wasn’t a spot anywhere on you they hadn’t touched, a location they hadn’t fanned their palms over, a zone they hadn’t marked, a piece they hadn’t claimed.

Inside and out, if they could reach it, it was theirs. Body, heart, mind, and soul, you were theirs, and they were yours. They assured you of such, telling you how they pined for you, how you had them wrapped around your little finger.

“Loved you from the day I laid eyes on you, princess,” Satoru said, gravelly. “I’m– shit– I’m f-fuckin’ crazy for you.”

“Toru!”

“Yeaaah, say my name,” he implored you.

You hiccuped. “S-Satoru!”

He groaned, deep and from the soul. “Fuck, I love you so much, pretty girl.”

“Love yo-ou,” you stuttered, laboring to put more than two words together.

Suguru cupped your jaw. “And me?”

“Love you, S-Sugu,” you promised.

He gifted you that smile that you adored more than you could convey, your spirit overjoyed. “My precious angel. I love you, too.”

You didn’t know how he was acting so put-together in the middle of fucking your brains out. Sweat clung to his forehead, his defined neck, and the contours of his torso, droplets trailing down and sticking his hair to his skin.

By comparison, you were a wreck of incoherent babbling and firing synapses, strewn between them as they ravaged your body. Their syncopated tempo wouldn’t grant you a brief pause to anchor yourself, completely at the hands of their mercy. Their sizes caused them to push firmly into any and every sweet spot you had, blinding you with a euphoria unlike any other.

Either because he was amused by your struggle, or because he was a bit sadistic, Suguru planted his heels onto your bed and rammed into you.

Your vision flickered, cognizance short-circuited from the abrupt burst of pleasure. It forced you directly to the height of your elation, teetering precariously on the summit, ready to dive off it.

“Nngh!” You mewled, brows furrowed, body wound tight. A taut bowstring, waiting to be released.

“Go on, mochi,” Satoru grunted when you clenched down on them. “Cum for us.”

“I-I can't!” You sobbed. “I– I need–”

“I've got you, love,” Suguru huffed. You bucked when the pad of his thumb pressed against your sensitive, febrile clit.

He circled it roughly in pace with their thrusts once, twice, and you shattered.

Your muscles locked up, throat pinched shut as a shot of pure, electric nirvana in its rawest form rolled in your tummy, then exploded outwards. It filled your limbs, fogged your mind, darkened your sight, flooding your entire being until you knew nothing but such divine euphoria.

You couldn't register your own blissful cry, or if you had cried at all, too lost in your senses to hear both men trilling and fawning over you while struggling to keep rhythm and control when you squeezed and milked them so well.

In the darkness behind your eyes, where their light had yet to touch, you witnessed something beyond the bounds of your mortal comprehension.

You heralded the heat death of the universe. You saw every speck of cosmic brilliance either smolder out until it lived no longer, or detonate in the grandest scenes you never believed you could be present for. Dust, fire, and energy burst throughout the swiftly collapsing ether, until all that was left were the abyssal, all-devouring voids that struggled to survive with the last of the matter they had shorn from clusters of galaxies and the stars they eventually dragged into their bottomless weasands.

When they, too, died, there was nothing. Silence, stygian darkness, not a soul nor being to be found.

Then, it all compressed. The petals of the universe themselves tucked inwards, folded over and over, packed down into a tiny dot, a speck more than anything else, where all matter was serried and reunited as one. It shrank and shrank, growing heavier, denser, hotter by the second.

You alone were the sole seer to the birth of the firmament.

You were there to descry in all glory how the heavens came to be, how the stars sparked to life, weak at first as they formed, fell, and formed again, repeating the cycle until the colossal entities became gods in their own rights. You bore the heavy weight of being testimony to the truth greater than anyone could ever picture.

You saw the coruscating fireworks of resplendent celestial bodies as they caved in on themselves, then went out with a final, grand eruption of phosphorescence. You beheld how some brought the next generation of stars, while others crumpled under the overpowering vise of the freezing vacuum of space, creating monstrosities that knew only how to consume and exist as the brightest, most refulgent beings.

And then, as the universe retreated from your perception, there was only them.

Only Satoru and Suguru, as they grit their teeth and held your hips and waist with enough pressure to ache deep in your bones, their sweaty forms halted against your own. Sweltering, liquid fire poured into your core, their cocks pulsing within your snug walls as you drained them for all they were worth and more.

Time ceased to exist immemorial. The three of you wound down, breathing each other in, simply being. Once lecherous hands glided up and down your sweat-slicked figure, unhurried now that you’d all reached the promised land together.

They were patient, giving you time to return to yourself. Soft-spoken vows and encomia, gentle petting, bringing you down from your astronomical high.

Gojo crooked his arms under your thighs, hoisting you up off of Geto’s lap. The action caused both of them to slip out of you, making you wince and whimper.

He hushed you sweetly as he set you on your side, nestling against your back with his arms looped around your waist, keeping you close. Suguru laid down in front of you, dotting kisses along your hairline, cheeks, nose, and one right on your lips.

“What brought it on?” Suguru spoke in low tones, and you felt his voice more than heard it.

“Mm?” You hummed, sleepy and confused.

“Why’d you leave the wedding?” He clarified.

You blushed, embarrassed at the reminder, now that you knew how they felt about you. “Ah, well…I, um…” You cleared your throat uncomfortably. “I saw you smile at another girl and it kinda…set me off, I guess.”

He frowned. “Smile?”

You tilted your head to hide your face, regardless of the darkness in your room. “The one that kissed your cheek.”

Satoru snorted harshly. “Oh, my god, that wasn’t a smile.”

“It wasn’t?” You blinked.

He cackled. “Hell no. I thought he was gonna blow a fuse. He looked like he’d been dropped in a vat of sap or something. Livid, I’m telling you.”

“I refrained,” Suguru insisted.

“You almost broke your teeth,” the other boy refuted.

He clicked his tongue. “It was uncomfortable. Besides, I don’t want any woman near me that isn’t our angel.”

The baby bird residing within you fluttered its wings at his words. Our. You were theirs just as they were yours.

In the afterglow of your lovemaking, as the two got comfy with you, snuggled up with you in the middle, you let your mind drift. Thoughts you fought against since the day you moved here were given the spotlight, allowed to say their pieces without you shoving them into the box under your bed.

You’ve always likened yourself to a kite.

Where once you considered yourself faded, washed out, and forever at risk of being bound to the ground, you realized something important.

As your fingers carded through Suguru’s soft, damp hair, and Satoru formed small circles under your ribs with his thumb, you noticed that the achromatic world you had lived in had been doused with color. It took you a while to see it, to fully process that the longer you stayed in this little village, the more vibrant the watercolor paints became, but they were there now, and you’d never be able to draw your eyes away from them.

Like a kite, you yearned to be free; to feel the wind under your wings and the sun on your back. You always blamed the rope that connected you to the ground for keeping that freedom away from you. It had you locked in a gilded cage, so you trimmed it further and further until you were just a kite, without any strings, without any connections to anyone or anything.

Without a home.

Upon reflection, you acknowledged that it didn’t make you free – it made you lost.

You had been lost for so long.

Then, you found them; the boys that wrapped your body in countless arms and legs, never any real beginning or end between you and them. You found these friends you made, and they all tied differently colored threads around your bamboo bones.

You let them.

You were scared when you fell, when the wind stopped blowing and you were torn from the skies, unable to follow the gales, you’d splinter beyond repair.

But, they caught you – Satoru and Suguru, together, as one.

And it clicked in your head the moment they said they wanted you, the same way you wanted them.

Being bound didn’t mean you were chained. Being tethered to them meant you could glide and soar in the sky without the fear of ever getting misled again, and the strings would guide you home when the gentle gusts calmed or the whipping tempests grew too angry.

You thought, ages ago, that you’d never be okay with being fettered to someone, or something. You had to be completely isolated, unshackled.

In truth, you just needed to find the people you wanted to share your link with. The pinkies and ankles you’d knot red threads around.

It was them all along. The Sun and Moon incarnate, with their Star held between them, all of you aloft and flying with hands clasped as a single being. There was no fear of your bond ever snapping, of any of you ever being torn away by an unforgiving storm.

Being bound meant you had a home.

And your home was with these two, with Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru.

Your home was here, in this village, away from anything grand and suffocating. It was here, in their arms, fingers and hearts intertwined.

You just had to get a little lost before being found.

banner by cafekitsune ♥

taglist: @kimi01985

#Tether Me #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #satosugu x reader #chimera writes

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reel-fear · 3 days

Text

Genuinely so curious who Mike thinks is gonna be buying The Cage or the new DCTL GN bc with the way he tweets as far as he's concerned, it's not gonna be:

The queer people he has actively admitted he will never show any representation of in the games.

2. The POC he has actively fought against representing in his franchise. [Who he also mocked for thinking they would be represented in his franchise]

3. The Bendy fandom which has always been concerned with topics of diversity esp in the sense of queer people since its creation. Who he has responded to really poorly esp in regards to the GN.

4. The fans who critique him. [He blocked me for doing so lol]

5. His fans in general who he tweets about like this currently. [He's being vague about why people were mad at him or sent him 'nasty messages' because if you actually looked into why you'd see he was in the wrong. Either way, a very hateful way to speak abt ur own fanbase.]

Reminder while Mike is trash talking his fans he has always treated them rather poorly. The fans who won the fanart contest for Chapter 5 never got their posters actually in game due to it being rushed. Not only was chapter 5 a big slap to the face story wise, but it was literally so rushed he couldn't be bothered to add in the art his fans gave him for his game FOR FREE. [Meatly blames this on a crazy timeline, reminder him and Mike are the literal ceos of this company. The proposal of future updates here is also pretty cruel considering Mike nowadays happily admits he corrupted Chapter 5's source code and therefore literally can't update it At All currently. Because he is a moron]

At least they got to be in Boris and the dark survival, and by that I mean that was the Only game they got to be in so far, isn't that just treating your fans like you love them? Shoving their hard work into a spin off game almost nobody has played or addresses much. [Hell, who knows if with the Lone Wolf rebrand they'll even stay there. In which case they'll be in None of the games, only in the credits of BATIM]

6. The Bendy fans who just generally disagree with him on stuff. Like the new ink demon design where there is literally a public poll showing people generally prefer the old one.

7. The Bendy fans who can see he is actively lying to them. To their fucking faces.

He says this has always been the case, but screenshots and links to tweets regarding the books being canon prove it was not. Does he really think bendy fans are stupid or something? [Unless he's admitting here he lied to Kress when he told her the books were canon which sounds worse!]

8. Anyone who doesn't like the idea of giving money to a guy who laid off tons of employees then afterwards thought it was a great idea to express his anti-union views! Also brag about how good of an employer he was, according to his employees, he was not!

So in summary; Mike is an awful person who has not learned anything from the awful things he did. I will not be purchasing The Cage because, combined with this and his absolute refusal to take any kind of critique or see any differing interpretation of his franchise, I have no reason to think my problems with the franchise will ever be addressed or fixed. I probably will pirate The Cage along with any future Bendy Products [Including the movie] and will do my best to avoid giving it any kind of monetary support. Unless this changes any time soon, I can't see myself making anymore positive Bendy posts soon.

Mike has just managed to make it so hard to speak positively or optimistically of this franchise when he's so willing to broadcast how little he cares about it or its fans. I'm at the point where I refuse to pull any of my punches with my problems with it. What's the point of trying to play nice with my critique when either way the people creating it don't care?

So with this post, I want to invite anyone who feels similarly about the franchise to tell me, make a post or send an ask talking about how all of this makes you feel. It may not change how things are, but genuinely seeing other people share my feelings of anger makes me feel better. It feels nice to see when other people share our same concerns and worries. I'd also love to know if anyone else thinks they'll be avoiding purchasing Bendy products over this.

I'm not forcing anyone to participate in it nor trying to say anyone who doesn't supports mike but genuinely maybe if we can collectively decide to boycott things like the movie, graphic novel and The Cage... It might at least make the bendy devs acknowledge how much they have destroyed their own fandom's faith and trust in them.

The way Mike tweets about his actions like he had no control over why people were mad at him at least proves to me he takes NONE of it back nor regrets it. If you didn't know about his actions and only went off his tweets, you would be led to believe Mike has been needlessly picked apart by fans over things he couldn't control [or in his own words, had his words twisted and taken out of context]. That is not how you speak about your actions if you have actually learned better from them.

anyway, that has been my bendy dev callout post. This is an open invitation to anyone feeling similarly upset about the way the franchise is going to talk about it. It's genuinely nice to see how people feel about this and the more we talk about the more it's likely the bendy devs are forced to address our concerns. I don't think they will but hey, that's why I'm not gonna support them with my money anymore nor am I gonna be nice to them in any content I make critiquing Bendy. I mean I'm also basically making this post just in case anyone asks me Why I feel this way towards to bendy devs/as a way to respond to anyone who thinks I am too harsh in my critique in the future.

As always, it seems the best part of Bendy isn't actually anything about canon but about what the fan's are creating with the ideas Bendy failed to do anything interesting with.

Also the books, the books slap.

#batim #batdr #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #ramblez #bendy and the silent city #bendy the cage #for the record another reason Im making this post is bc some of the only good resources to learn abt why the bendy devs suck are some old #very longer videos and this is a very long post but I thought it was important to document the recent shit theyve been doing alongside some #of the worst past things theyve done bc Mike has been trying to misinform people on what happened but those videos are still great resource #if you want more info n such #long post #mike D #for anyone who doesnt wanna hear abt him since he doesnt go by mood anymore #sorry if this is rambley or emotional Im just so sick of these guys fr dskjhgskdfjghskdjhgkjhsd #I miss when I didnt spend my days stressed about the awful shit mike is gonna say next and how I would have to disprove it in a post later #or explain why its bad to have a cast of nothing but cishet white guys n constantly fight back against any push for diversity in said cast #genuinely its just tiring esp when u see other bendy fans give ignorant or very silly defenses/takes on those things #n then u lose a lot of respect for them bc they are speaking on stuff they dont know much abt so confidently and therefore misinforming #people or even encouraging very bad views on stuff like diversity n its importance #Im not saying people like that are bad people but it is stressful n upsetting when u see someone u thought knew better do that sort of thin #it makes it hard to trust them again on other issues bc u now dont trust they know what they r talking abt!!#like please think twice before telling young artists making norman white was a tough and complicated decision it was fucking not the bendy #devs just think all their humans are white by default and dont wanna change that its been proven time n time again thats all it is #and defending them just bc u like a franchise they made is very very bad!! They are not ur friends!! they suck and we seriously need to #stop pretending they dont!! toxic positivity is only gonna make the fandom an absolute nightmare its not gonna make ANYTHING better #it just means people will be forced to PRETEND they never have negative thoughts abt the franchise n therefore make them burned out #just look at other similar fandoms please lets not make those same mistakes!!#sorry can u tell Ive been having just. A time recently #anyways back to making my queer ass bendy fan game full of so much diversity mike will prolly shit when he sees it DKFJGHKSDJHGKJHSD

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kendsleyauthor · 2 days

Note

#11 anon here again! glad to hear you’re still taking prompts. i love your and mary’s works ❤️ im shy so i stay on anon, but seriously, so much love to you guys! anyway, if youre so inclined, might i suggest prompt #1? keeping it simple. #11->1 lol. all your characters are awesome — i don’t think andreas and lorelei have been prompted yet, so maybe this can be a vote for them? but also, id love to hear more about the godlike trio; they’re so fun! what is their origin story?!! again, dealers choice, and thank you kindly !💕❤️

LIVING NIGHTMARE

TW: Drowning, fearplay stemming from genuine anger

Print / Trinket Universe (Andres and Lorelei)

~1800 words

G/t dialogue prompt list

Thank you so much for the prompt and the love, beautiful! I know it's been a long time, but I am determined to catch up as much as I can!! As far as the Godlike trio, it would be sooo fun to explore their origin story one day! It is dense, but it essentially involves human sacrifice, trickery, and immature nature god politics 😋

As for THIS story-- reader, if you're new to the trinket universe, this interaction may be startling lol. The TL;DR for this particular situation is that Lorelei must live in secret for her and Andres' safety 👀

@marydublinauthor 🌸

Drowning.

Whiskey stings her eyes, blinding her. She can’t blink it away—it’s all around her. Immense pressure sits on her torso. Does it count as drowning if she wouldn’t be able to draw a full breath anyway? Her heels slide against the bottom of the glass, tractionless. She claws at the finger pinning her down.

Each swipe weakens.

The pain begins to fade. It’s almost peaceful.

She hears that’s what happens right before you die from suffocation.

Calm.

Quiet.

Free.

But a peaceful death is too much to ask for.

The finger relinquishes pressure, and she is wracked with agony. She draws in a lungful of whiskey and thrashes. Although she wants nothing more than to fade away, to kiss this hell goodbye, her body fights to survive.

She pops up to stand on trembling legs, leaning hard against an ice cube. The coldness burns. She coughs raggedly. Laughter rumbles from above. Her recovering vision registers the giants around her as nothing more than massive blurs of color.

The shape of a hand hovers over the glass before descending upon her again. She manages a single, pleading whimper before she’s forced onto her back, pinned to the bottom of the glass.

Drowning.

Whiskey stings her eyes, blinding her. She can’t blink it away—it’s all around her.

Immense pressure—

“Lorelei!”

The voice was familiar. Loud, but not at all the same as the booming laughter.

She flinched awake, gripping fistfuls of blanket as she gasped for air. Each breath was a painfully overwhelming gift. She squinted in the lamplight which cast the sprawling living room with warmth. The high windows gave view to an overcast night sky.

Safe.

“Lorelei.”

Blinking, she made sense of Andres’ form leaning over her on the side table. To her confusion, there was no softness in his voice, no suggestion that he intended to soothe her from the nightmare. No, he wanted her attention, and anything else she might feel was secondary.

“Andres,” she said groggily.

“What is wrong with you?” He sounded like he was making a great deal of effort not to shout. She shrank away from the bite in his voice. “What were you thinking?”

Frowning, she sat up slowly. She couldn’t relinquish her grip on the blanket—not with the way he was looking at her. She felt like a child using her covers as a shield against the boogeyman. This had to still be a nightmare. There was no reality where Andres would glower at her like that anymore. If he was especially bitter about losing a game, perhaps—but even then, he scowled with a glint of admiration in his eyes.

For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what she could have done in her sleep to piss him off.

“Were my screams of terror too loud?” she managed to croak. “Sorry, I’ll try to keep it down.”

He didn’t seem to register nor care what she said at all. “Madison Jones,” he said flatly.

Her heart climbed into her throat. Now she really wished she was dreaming.

“H-how…” But she knew at once. She must have forgotten to log out of the alias account. She wet her lips. “Let me explain—”

“How?” he snapped, voice rising. “There is no explanation that makes this any less idiotic! You are smarter than this, Lorelei!”

Heat flashed through her, vicious and all-consuming. “It’s idiotic to want to check up on old friends?”

“Wanting is one thing.” The ice in his voice threatened to douse her fire. “Doing… Doing this is…” His jaw worked as though he was too angry to speak.

He brandished his phone in her direction, the screen aglow. She turned her head. She didn’t need to look. He had gone through the chat logs of her alias and found every incriminating conversation of the past six months. Her hands shook on the blanket.

“I’ve been careful,” she said, softer. “They have no idea who I really am. They think I’m an aspiring player, new to the scene. A long-distance friend that they will never, ever meet.”

Tears pricked her eyes. God, she was pathetic.

And Andres wasn’t helping. He shook his head. “This ends now.”

“Please—”

“No. I cannot allow you to put us in danger like this. How could you be so stupid?”

The wildfire ignited again. She stood, shoving her blanket aside. She didn’t care that she had to crane her neck to meet his frostbitten glare. “So that’s it? You’re ordering me to happily isolate myself from the rest of the world—even with a solution right in front of our damn faces?”

“Zorra,” he cursed—a particular insult he’d never once aimed at her. “Your solution is going to get us investigated and caught.”

Her voice came out like a fist was squeezing her throat. “I miss my friends!”

He scoffed. “Am I not enough for you now?”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” She staggered two steps back, wondering how this could be the same person who cared for her, protected her. Sinking to her knees, she clasped her hands in front of her. “Should I be like this day and night? Thank you so much for being the only person in the world I can talk to for the rest of my life.”

For a single second, he looked hurt. “Stand up,” he gritted out. “I will not talk to you like this.”

But she was just as hurt and every bit as vicious, and she had to stop now before she said something she couldn’t apologize for. Rising to her feet, she turned her back on him and started for the makeshift stairway that would lead her to the floor. Throwing a pity party under a cabinet or sofa for the night would do her good.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To be alone,” she threw over her shoulder. “I can’t be around you right now.”

The last thing she expected was for him to deny her. Instead of sulking away or simply lapsing into disappointed silence, his voice lashed like a whip and made her flinch. “You are not going anywhere,” he said. “You are staying here. And talking.”

“About what?” She didn’t turn back, placing her hand on the railing. “Delete the profile yourself if it pisses you off so much.”

Silence. She thought that was the end of it, but no. “Come back,” he said through gritted teeth.

She said nothing, starting down the stairs.

A sudden tug at the back of her nightgown made her breath catch. She instinctively tried to wrench herself free, even if it would send her tumbling down the steps. In an instant, she was whisked off her feet. She gave a choked shriek as air whipped past her, and she found herself dangling in front of Andres’ infuriated face.

“Forgive me for not being better company,” he said venomously. “But I am trying to keep us both alive.”

Alive.

She was helpless.

She was drowning again.

“Stop!” she howled, half expecting precious air bubbles to rise from her lips. Her voice pitched into a scream that she only ever heard in her nightmares. “I’m sorry! I-I’m sorry!”

As quickly as it happened, it was over. She only caught a glimpse of Andres’ astonished expression before he lowered her into his waiting palm and released her. She scrabbled back, bumping against his fingers and burying her face in her knees.

“Lorelei?” he whispered.

He touched her shoulder, and she screamed. The air whirled again, and she dared to peek out. His hand rested on the side table beside her bed, offering escape. She jolted out of her fetal position, falling to hands and knees in her desperation to get away. Stumbling to her bed, she pulled her blanket tightly over herself, shaking too hard to make it to a better hiding place. She didn’t care how childish it was—she needed to reduce her world to a small space of darkness.

“Lorelei.” His voice was reverent, dripping with regret.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, her wail reduced to a whimper.

“No. No, I am.” His voice cracked. Another gentle touch brushed her back through the blanket, pausing to gauge her reaction. She didn’t scream again, dreading that he was about to pull the sheet off of her. But he didn’t. He kept stroking, his breathing unsteady. “Please come out. I never meant to scare you like that. I…” Silence dragged for several seconds, and the touch of his finger pulled away. “Did I hurt you?”

She quietly assessed herself. “No.”

Another pause.

“Can you show me?” His words were a plea, not an order.

Hesitantly, she sat up and pulled the blanket off her head, letting it fall to her shoulders. His dark eyes searched her intensely for any sign that his rough handling left a mark. Even when he seemed sure that she was unhurt, he stayed close, staring into her eyes.

She broke the silence floating between them. “I couldn’t help it,” she admitted, looking down in shame. “I… I can’t just pretend I didn’t have another life. I miss my friends. My family.”

For a moment, she worried his anger would rise up again. But he looked almost as exhausted as she felt. Glancing at his phone, he pursed his lips. “Your family is not in the chat logs,” he noted.

“I…” She sniffled. “I picked people I wasn’t especially close to.”

“Why?”

She managed the smallest laugh. “I know you think I’m an impulsive idiot. And you’re right, I can be. So I gave myself limits.” Her shoulders slumped. “I knew if I reached out to my family, I wouldn’t be able to keep the secret up. Sooner or later, I’d spill everything just so they wouldn’t have to live another day wondering if I was alive or dead or swimming in someone’s drink.”

He regarded her with raised eyebrows like something was dawning on him. “You were tangled in the sheets when I came in,” he said slowly. His expression fell, and she dropped her gaze. She’d opened up about the nature ofher recurring nightmares before. “It was a bad one. I should have noticed I should have waited.” He sighed heavily, and his finger returned to stroke her hair down. “Are you alright?”

She pursed her lips and shook her head.

His finger paused. “Do you want me to leave?” he murmured.

She could tell that her hesitation hurt him more than anything. But ultimately, she shook her head again. Raising her hand, she found his finger and guided it to her side. She leaned against the warmth of his skin.

“Lorelei…” His eyes flicked up and down, drinking her in with fondness steeped in loving fear. She braced herself for the inevitable—the gentle but firm order to never pull something like this again. But he was full of surprises tonight. “I trust you. Please—give me another chance to be the kind of man you are not afraid to keep secrets from.”

Her tears spilled over, and she pressed a kiss to his knuckle. “I think I can do that.”

(A/N: I've had this on the backburner for so long, I'm glad to finally post it! I'm sorry that my first short story in a while is a gut punch lol 💞)

#gt #g/t #gt writing #g/t writing #gt story #g/t story #gt fandom #g/t fandom #giant tiny #gt fearplay #g/t fearplay #my writing #print universe #trinket universe #print universe story #trinket universe story #oc: andres #oc: lorelei

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lacewing-if · 8 months

Note

Hey. Tried out the game and it was so cute⭐ That moment though when you choose to name your MC Harry and your glasses being "a round-rimmed, black-framed pair of glasses, similar to that guy from a famous book series" was epic, but Minh's puns were both funny and eyerolling😂

Thanks for the guide btw. It was really helpful after 3 failures in finding the culprit😂

Hi! Thanks for playing the game! ✨💗 Hearing you say that makes me feel it’s the right decision after all to put the guide out there. At first I was lazy and just gonna let people fend for themselves 😂 But then I realize it would be too cruel to force people figure out on their own, especially when there’s only a few specific ways to find the glasses.

And yes, how could I not put a Harry Potter reference in there? 😂

Minh’s part isn’t quite finished yet so it’s such a relief to see it still stands out. I’m so glad you enjoy this game! 💖

#thank you for this message! 💞#i was having burn out so this seriously made my day #my glasses #asks that make me go 💖🥰

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elliewithcellie · 6 days

Text

Protector

summary: After months working for the BAU, your harbored feelings for your boss seem unrequited until your hunt for the unsub goes awry. (hotch x fem!reader)

wc: 9.8k (oh my god)

cw: slow burn, boss/employee dynamic, age gap pairing, criminal minds level violence, mention of alcoholism, implication of father issues, hurt/comfort, reader gets hurt, fluff, angst, SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral (f receiving), p in v sex, Hotch is a professional at heart and takes work boundaries seriously

a/n: Back in the saddle with a new man to hyper-fixate on. Hotch can GET IT. Also, let me know if anyone wants the SFW version I'm working on

“Looks like we’re doubling up,” Hotch announced, a sigh escaping his lips.

Before you could even process his words, the rest of the team sounded off, choosing their roommates for the duration of the case. All that remained were you and your boss. With the team dispersing, you awkwardly shifted your duffle bag to your other shoulder and looked up at Hotch.

His stern expression didn’t change as he looked back at you. “Come on. We’re 202.”

You followed him to the elevators, still unsure what to think. This was not only your boss but someone you had garnered quite a fondness for since you joined the BAU. Of course, you had managed yourself professionally thus far, but you were sure this was going to test your limits.

You understood the immediate pairings among the rest of the team. You were still fairly new, not quite to the rapport that the team had formed with each other. But it also made you think about how no one chose Hotch. The pressure to be Unit Chief also had to be lonely.

The elevator chimed, and the two of you shuffled in. You kept to yourself, trying to maintain composure. The lift from the first floor to the second felt like an hour, the silence deafening. You couldn’t shake your nerves. The doors opened, and he stepped out. You quickly followed.

Hotch opened the door and allowed you in first. The two double beds, office chair, mini fridge, and small bathroom were all less comforting to you than normal.

“Do you mind if I take the bed by the door?” Hotch asked, his voice softer than usual.

You blinked up at him, stirred from your preoccupation. “Yeah, of course. I like the window side anyway.”

“Thank you. If you’d like, you can have the shower first. I’d like to call Jack before he heads to bed.”

“Sounds good.”

You began to unpack your belongings and sighed in dismay. You had assumed that you would have a room to yourself as usual, so your pajamas were a little more revealing than you’d prefer your boss to see. Still, a t-shirt and shorts were reasonable sleep attire, so you tried not to dwell on it. You collected your things as Hotch dialed a number on his phone.

“Hey, buddy, how was your day?”

You smiled to yourself as you entered the bathroom. His “dad” voice was more upbeat, yet calm and soothing. With Hotch distracted on the phone, you could relax in the shower. The boiling water stung your skin, just the way you needed it. As you relaxed, you realized how silly it was for you to stress over the rooming situation. Hotch was here to do his job, just like you. And other than his intelligence, his kindness, and his fierce compassion for kids, you were sure you were only infatuated with him.

You finished up your shower and towel-dried your hair once you could no longer hear his muffled voice through the door. You were desperate not to waste Hotch’s time. With your hair still wet and your large t-shirt hanging over your shorts, you timidly exited the bathroom back to your bed, on your toes as if you were sneaking around. Hotch sat on his bed, his coat jacket now on the desk chair. He flipped through channels with the remote in one hand and loosened his tie with the other.

“All yours,” you spoke, struggling to get the words out.

Hotch looked up at you and gave a small smile. “Thanks.” He gathered up his things and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Another sigh of relief left your lips. You grabbed the book from your duffle and climbed into bed. You rolled over to turn on the lamp next to you and began to read, but before you knew it, sleep overtook you.

------

“Hotchner.”

You woke up to Hotch answering his phone. The sky was still dark. The only light illuminating the room was the alarm clock. You realized that you hadn’t turned off the lamp before you fell asleep, nor did you place your book carefully on the side table with a hotel pen as the bookmark.

“Alright. Yes. Right. Understood. We’ll be right over.”

You looked up at Hotch expectantly. He looked at you, then averted his eyes as he got out of bed. “Another young girl missing. She’s only 16.” He paced the floor for a moment, a short-lived break from the stoic leader he always has to be.

“I’ll call the others,” you said sitting up. His eyes returned to yours, the strain turning into relief. He only nodded and headed for the closet, suiting up right there.

You called the others and followed suit, leaving the hotel parking lot by 3:46 am.

------

The next 18 hours were long, stressful, and only moderately successful. The team was able to work out an arrangement with the kidnapper before their 24 hours were up. The girl, Heather, was returned to her parents with only a few bruises. But the kidnapper got away, practically goading you all at the ability to remain anonymous. The team was exhausted and out of ideas.

The team drove back to the hotel without a single word exchanged. The kidnapper’s voice rang in your head. He was so confident, arrogant even. There was almost never a moment where he fumbled over his words or cracked. His ruse lasted for hours. But he got sloppy in the end, fessing up to her location just enough for Garcia to triangulate. But something wasn’t adding up to you: his willingness to run instead of killing her when he had the chance.

Hotch spoke up, stirring you from your ruminations. “We need to start from scratch. Reid, give us a rundown on what, where, and why.”

“Well, we know his victims are all young women now ranging from 16 to 23. They come from middle to upper-class families. He sends messages to the families always demanding ransom within 24 hours. Three women have been killed, and now two have survived. The strange part is whether or not he stays truthful to his word. The parents have always given him what he wants, but then it’s up to his discretion whether he follows through.”

“Based on these girls,” Prentiss interjected, “this guy’s intelligent. He prides himself on the ability to get away with this.”

“That’s good,” Hotch said, eyes still on the road. “But why work with us sometimes and not others?

The SUV hummed as its passengers sat in silence.

You decided to speak up. “Prentiss said he prides himself on the ability to get away with this, right?” Everyone sat still, expectant for you to continue. “We’re looking at this the wrong way. This isn’t a sadist who gets off on killing. This isn’t a psychopath with a compulsion. This is a narcissistic sociopath who has been evading capture for weeks now. This is a game to him. It’s a game he knows he can win.”

“Which is why when he’s pressured, he releases the girl.” Hotch nodded along.

“He can take a loss where he can because, to him, the ultimate win is to not get caught,” Reid agreed.

“Great work,” Hotch said, parking the car. “You guys head in and get some good sleep. I’ll fill in the other van. Be ready for a big day of planning.”

You walked up with Reid and Prentiss, a small smile refusing to leave your lips. You cracked it, you thought to yourself.

Your two teammates teased each other up to the rooms, you following close behind. You weren’t the type to inject yourself into other people’s conversations, which ended up making it hard to connect with them. It was as if you had been adopted into a family that has known each other their whole lives. You were respected, sure, so there was no need to complain. You just wished that you could make jokes with them and have the levity they had during intense cases like this.

Still, even hearing your teammates laugh was enough for you tonight. You longed for a moment longer, but they said their goodnights and headed off.

You entered your room, much more relaxed than the night before. You had yourself all worked up, and for what? You gathered your things and headed to the shower, sure that Hotch wasn’t far behind and would call his son again.

As you exited the bathroom, Hotch entered the room. You jumped despite yourself.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

“It’s ok,” was all you said in response. You returned your things to your bag and slid into bed. You turned on the lamp and began reading while Hotch took his turn in the shower.

You were still reading when he returned, the book more interesting now than it was the night before. You glanced up only for a moment. Hotch wore striped pajama pants tonight, contrasted to the boxers you accidentally noticed earlier that morning. You looked back at your book but couldn’t read it. Your mind wandered to the message Hotch could be sending. Maybe your shorts were inappropriate. Maybe you weren’t meant to see his boxer shorts at all. Maybe he was just cold.

“Good work today,” Hotch said, interrupting your thoughts.

You smiled up at him. “It was a team effort.”

“We may have never come to the conclusion you did. Take the compliment.” Hotch’s lips raised to a subtle smirk, something you’ve only seen a handful of times and certainly never directed toward you.

“Yes, sir,” you said. “Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your eyes drifted back to your book.

“What’s your book about?”

Was Hotch trying to make conversation with you? True, it wasn’t as late as yesterday’s arrival, but in all of your months of working for the BAU, any discussion with the team had been strictly professional. Still, you blushed at the question.

“It’s a romance,” you confessed.

“I have to say,” Hotch began, “I’ve never read a romance novel. What about it appeals to you?”

You thought for a moment. “I guess it’s the suspension of disbelief. The relief to enter a reality where people love in big, romantic ways. Don’t you ever want to get swept off your feet?”

You cringed at the question, debating on whether it was appropriate to ask your superior about romance.

“I think I’d rather do the sweeping,” Hotch said thoughtfully.

You smiled at his words.

“You don’t think people love in romantic ways in this reality?” Hotch asked, looking up at the ceiling. His breaths were calm, and his face seemed to soften from serious to curious.

“I don’t know,” you said sincerely. “My sister is about to marry a real stand-up guy. He’s caring and has a good family who loves her, too. It’s one of those one-and-done fairy tale deals. Like truly made for each other. But I wouldn’t say that’s the norm. It’s not my norm, at least. So, yeah, I guess you could say I’m skeptical.”

You crossed your legs and fiddled with your thumbs. You tried not to reflect on your history, tried not to give any clue to your boss of your true beliefs. It didn’t ultimately matter to the conversation, anyway. The silence stewed as it stirred up new thoughts and old patterns, feeling yourself shut down the conversation. You didn’t mean to. You hated being seen as the one that was boring outside of work. The one that wasn’t friendly enough to get to know.

“I’m sure you don’t know,” Hotch began again, shaking you from your anxious thoughts, “but bringing up your sister reminded me that I met your dad a few years ago.”

You shot up. “You know about him?” You covered your face with your hands.

“He was nationally awarded for his work in counterterrorism. Of course, I know about him.” He laughed softly, a sound you weren’t used to but would never complain to hear it again. “I met him on a job in Bakersfield. He knew the town like the back of his hand. Is he why you joined?”

“In a roundabout way,” you sighed.

“He brought up his girls every chance he could.” Hotch smiled and turned to face you. “One was a soccer star in South Carolina on track to be a doctor. One was a track star a semester away from graduating with honors and applying to Physician Assistant programs, I believe.”

“My sisters are overachievers,” you said.

“Then it’s you he talked about the most. The musician, the future psychologist, the one who found fascination with the minute details of life.”

“My dad said all that?”

“He did. He had offered us beers when it was all over, and he shared photos of you all. You’re certainly much more grown now.” He chuckled.

Your cheeks flushed red at the comment.

“I showed him Jack playing tee-ball, and we both shared some stories before it was time to go. He had some great advice to give.”

“I’m sure he did,” you mumbled. “Sir, I don’t want you to think I got in because of him. He didn’t know until I made it to Quantico. I mean, yes, he always pushed the army and West Point like him, but I did this all on my own, Mr. Hotchner, I swear.”

“Hotch is fine,” he gently corrected. “I’m not worried about where you came from. I knew the entire time. But your qualifications are what got you on the team, not your father. Keep up the good work, and I’ll continue to remember that.”

“Yes, sir.” You thought to yourself for a moment. The candor of the conversation may have added to your bravery in this moment. “Hotch?”

He raised his eyebrows to imply he was listening.

“Umm, Is there anything that I can do to, like… never mind. I’m about to sound pathetic.” You huffed back down into your pillow. You couldn’t believe you were about to ask Hotch how to make friends.

“They’ll warm up to you, just like you’ll warm up to them. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’m sure they’ll see you for who you are.”

You sighed again. Of course, he knew what you were stressing about. He’s the chief profiler after all.

“I’ll let you read now,” Hotch said, getting up from bed. “I’m going to call Jack.”

You gave a small smile and nodded, and he left the room.

------

You woke up the next morning to Hotch returning to the room, two disposable coffee cups and a case file in his hands.

You jerked up from bed. “Am I late?” you asked, scared you slept through the alarm.

“No, no,” he said, walking over to you. “I’m early. Coffee?”

He held out one of the cups to you. You gently accepted.

“Thank you.” You looked over at the clock. 5:54. You rubbed your eyes. “Are you always up this early?”

“On the job, yes,” he said with no inflection. “Much to think about, and much to be done.” He sat back on his bed and reviewed the file you knew he had reviewed countless times. If he was anything like you, he was searching for some hidden puzzle piece, something that the team must have missed to solve the case once and for all. But it was never that easy. Still, maybe some fresh eyes could help.

You slid out of your bed and rested on top of his. “Can I help?”

“Be my guest.” He shifted the file your way for a better vantage point. You crossed your legs and sipped your coffee before getting to work.

You found yourself lost in thought, jotting down those thoughts in the margins. It helped to visualize your connections, even drawing physical lines to connect them. You noticed that the most recent girl didn’t fit the age range of the others, 19-23. You dug deeper, making a note to ask Garcia to run the connection between all of these girls. College? you wrote. There was a college campus within ten minutes of the hotel. One more thing struck you. All of the victims had their hair up in a high ponytail. You weren’t sure how that was associated yet, but you wrote beside each of the photos anyway.

As the early sun began to rise, you grew brutally aware of Hotch’s presence. His body leaned closer to yours, and you felt his eyes sear into your skin. You grew distracted, your mind wandering to the fact that you were wearing only a loose shirt and small shorts in Hotch’s bed. Was he noticing the same thing? Was this a breach of professionalism? Were you making him uncomfortable? Against all your will, you felt your body temperature rise in the form of a blush.

The alarm clock rang out, pulling both Hotch and your attention. You stretched over to turn it off.

“I’ll let you get ready,” Hotch said, jumping out of bed. He headed to the door, refusing to meet your gaze. “Meet me downstairs?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, slightly surprised by the questioning tone of your superior. He nodded and left the room before another word could be spoken.

-------

In the conference room of the local police station sat the team, all watching Hotch interact with the captain of the squad through the glass. You stayed facing the table with your head low. You couldn’t help the bounce of your leg. While the others inferred the conversation outside, your mind had fixated on the morning’s events. The heat of your boss’s breath had tattooed your skin, a branding to the back of your neck. The intimacy, the closeness, and then the flustered nature Hotch left in replayed in your mind. You couldn’t look at him until you could properly collect yourself.

“What’s on your mind, kiddo?” Morgan asked. Your head shot up. All eyes were on you now. You failed to hide the rouging in your cheeks.

“Nothing.” You shrugged, though you knew the contradiction in your body language.

JJ chuckled. “Nothing? You’re so tense, so distracted.”

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” Morgan asked again, a smile growing on his face. “Hotch keeping you up all night?”

You flinched at his name. You couldn’t help it, but you outed yourself all the same.

“No, I slept fine. I swear.”

“You flinched!” Prentiss laughed and pointed. “It is about Hotch, isn’t it?”

“Leave the poor girl alone,” Rossi said, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.

“Hon, you better tell us what happened in the next three seconds.” Derek swatted at Spencer’s chest. “Reid, help us out, here.”

“Based on the months we’ve known her, she tends to—”

“Don’t you start profiling me, Reid.” You glared at Spencer across the table.

His arms shot up in the air as if to surrender, but a smirk remained on his face. “All I’m saying is that I know the physical signs of a crush when I see one.”

Your jaw dropped. The conference room filled with laughter.

“Leave her alone!” Garcia yelled from behind you. “She’s our sensitive little one!”

“I’m not 5,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. Penelope hugged you from behind as if to protect you from the others. The others continued to laugh, causing you to smile despite yourself. Morgan took a photo of you and Garcia, and warmth spread through you. Even with all the teasing, being here with the team felt good.

Just then Hotch rushed through the door. “Alright, let’s be seated and get to work. We have a big day ahead of us.” Garcia took her seat, but Hotch stayed standing, opting to position himself in front of the whiteboard. “After speaking with the captain and going through the case file with Y/N this morning, I determined our best attack on the situation. Though, it is rather unorthodox.”

The rest of the team stayed silent, waiting for the punchline. Hotch continued. “What do we know about our killer better than anything? His victimology. We know that he goes after girls and young women aged 16-23. They are middle to upper-class, and not the type to find themselves in trouble. Now, who do we all know who fits this very description?”

“Y/N,” Reid said.

All eyes returned to you, this time with a seriousness looming in the air.

“If we don’t want any other kidnappings, we need to give him what he wants. Going after the 16-year-old was off for him. He’s devolving. Which means we need to act fast before he kills again. This is the only way we can approach this head-on.”

“Hotch,” Emily began, “with all due respect, let me take this on. Or JJ. JJ has experience.”

“With his victimology going as low as 16 now, it should be someone who looks the part,” Reid replied.

“She’s just a kid, Hotch.” Morgan reached his hand toward your shoulder, but you gently nudged it away.

“But I’m not a kid at all,” you spoke up. “I have two degrees and the same job as the rest of you. I know I’m young and look younger, but I’m qualified. If my appearance can be used to put this guy away, then let me help. Let me do my job.” You looked up at Hotch, a sudden confidence flowing through your veins. “What do you need me to do?”

-------

For the rest of the day, the team helped you prepare for your role as a 22-year-old college student. The team strategized and planned, desperate to ensure your safety. Everyone added their two cents, but you were happy to receive all the insight you were given. You weren’t going to screw this up for them.

You, Hotch, Prentiss, and Morgan returned to the hotel to pick among your belongings to dress the part. Rossi, Reid, and JJ stayed behind with Garcia to set up intel at the station.

“The shorts you wore to bed,” Hotch began, “go put those on while we find a sweatshirt or jacket. In fact, wear the shirt you wore, too. The size could conceal the mic better.”

You nodded and grabbed your things before heading into the bathroom. It was not lost on you that your boss was thoroughly aware of your pajama situation, but due to the pivotal role you were to perform, it was easier to focus on the task at hand.

You returned from the bathroom where Emily greeted you with the mic. You lifted your arms, allowing Emily to snake the mic underneath your shirt, securing it to your sternum with sports tape. While doing so, Hotch and Morgan returned with a single sweatshirt in Morgan’s hand. It was grungy and old, not quite the goal aesthetic.

Still, Morgan handed it to you to try on. The three profilers evaluated your look.

“This isn’t gonna work,” Morgan said. Prentiss pinched her eyebrows together in dismay. Hotch stayed staring.

“Take off the sweatshirt,” Hotch ordered. “I think I have something better.”

You did as he said while he rummaged through his duffle bag. He pulled out a quarter zip of excellent quality, something he only wears on a successful plane ride home.

“Put it on.”

You didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions. It was a large fit, hanging just above the hem of your shorts and the sleeves landing at your fingertips. The three of them looked at you, then to their reference photos, then back at you. Something was missing.

“Call Reid. Maybe he can find any other similarity we’re missing,” Hotch said.

“No, I got it.” You remembered the notes you made earlier that morning. You took the hair tie from your wrist and pulled your hair up into a high ponytail. “Now, what do you think?”

“That’s it,” Morgan said.

“And just in time,” Emily noted, “We gotta get you to the college fast.”

On the ride to the school, Hotch reiterated the goals in place.

“All you need to do is walk across campus using the roads. Keep to yourself, and most importantly, do not—and I mean it—do NOT, get into the vehicle under any circumstances. Stall him, flirt with him, do anything you can to keep him in place. We’ll be right there. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. I got it.”

“We’re counting on you.”

“Good luck.” Prentiss smiled with seriousness behind her eyes.

Morgan grabbed your shoulder, turning you around. “Be smart, kiddo.”

You returned a small smile and left the van to venture on your walk.

------

You had to have walked the streets for at least an hour. The campus was massive, larger than any school you attended. You did as you were told and kept to yourself. The sun had long since set, so there was no warmth to guard you from the biting breeze. A car or two passed periodically, but none slowed down beside you. There was a peace in the solitude. One could chalk it up to the calm before the storm, but you weren’t afraid.

Another car passed, but this time it slowed down. Your heart stopped and landed in your throat.

“Excuse me,” the man called out. The voice was unforgettable. The very same voice that threatened to kill the girl over the phone. The voice that replayed in your mind for hours. You knew it was him.

You turned to face him, trying to commit every detail to memory. He was a conventionally attractive man with lighter hair and a smile that you would have swooned over under any other circumstance. He wore a white polo and jeans and drove a two-door black convertible with the top down.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m looking for a party my buddy’s throwing, but I don’t go here.”

“I’ll say you don’t,” you chuckled as you walked closer. “Your car must cost my tuition!”

The man grinned. “You like? I could take you for a spin. But I’ll have you know; I like to go fast.”

“Mmmm, top-down, wind in my hair,”—you inched closer still, to feign some sort of interest— “but don’t you have a party you’re missing?”

“Well, if you show me where to go, maybe I’ll consider you my plus one.” He winked.

“Now, do I look like the partying type to you?” You laughed and rested your arms on his car door.

Without another word, he grabbed you by the upper arms and pulled you into the driver’s seat. You screamed at the top of your lungs. You tried to fight him from your disadvantaged position, but he was stronger, quicker. He forced you into the passenger seat as he wailed punch after punch into your jaw.

“Nice. Girls. Don’t. Scream!” he yelled. He punctuated his words with one final blow to the head. And as you drifted out of consciousness, you weren’t sure if the roof was closing above you or if the sky was turning black.

------

The sound of fireworks stirred you from your unconsciousness. Lights of reds and blues lit the night sky. You smiled at the serenity of the celebration. You didn’t want to go, but the strong hands beneath you lifted you away. You were much too tired to argue, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. The faint words “stay with me” echoed in your mind, and if staying meant remaining in the comfort of the person who held you, you’d be content to stay there forever.

------

You woke up to blinding white lights. This must be heaven you assumed. You blinked through the searing lights and realized it wasn’t heaven at all. You were in a hospital. The sheets, the gown, the blinking monitors, and a small TV playing all clouded your senses. You reached up to rub your head, but someone was holding your hand.

Hotch moved with you, stirring him out of his strained slumber. He had pulled a chair to your bed, his head resting next to your knee. He lifted his head and looked up at you, an urgency deep within his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” He didn’t let go of your hand.

“I—uhhh—Hotch, what’s goin’ on?” You found your breathing quickening at the sound of your slurred speech, the confusion becoming too much to handle.

“You’re ok. You’re gonna be ok. The doctor said they want to keep you overnight, but the team’s on their way.”

“No, no.” You pulled your hand away. “They can’t see me like this. You can’t see me like this! I’m not put together. I—I feel like I'm gonna be sick. I can’t feel my arms. Are my hands shaking? I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out!”

Hotch all but jumped at your ramblings, his eyebrows raised in shock. Before he could answer you burst into tears.

“Hotch, I’m gonna be sick,” you said through your convulsions.

Hotch jumped up in search of a bucket. He grabbed the trashcan at the corner of the room and brought it to you just in time. Tears streamed down your face as you threw up into the trashcan. Hotch held your hair back and gently rubbed your back.

Your nausea subsided, but your panic remained. Hotch sat on the bed, pulling you into his chest. You gripped him with all your might, desperate for the shakes to go away.

“You're alright. You're safe, ok? I think the medicine is messing with you a little. Take some deep breaths for me. I need you to relax, ok?”

You tried to take breaths at the pace Hotch set. Hotch’s hand combed through your hair as he tried to soothe you. Eventually, you were able to cool off. Hotch gently rested you back on your pillow. “Why don’t we go back to sleep for a little, ok? I think you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

You nodded, your face still wet from the tears. You repositioned yourself and fell asleep within moments.

When you woke up again, your mind was your own. Your head was pounding, and your body ached. You allowed yourself to adjust to your environment before searching for Hotch. There he sat by your bed, talking to a nurse. You cleared your throat effortfully. Hotch stood and approached you.

“How are you?”

“Everything hurts.”

“They’re giving you ibuprofen now. It seems like you were reacting to the morphine poorly.”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“Not at all,” Hotch said seriously. “Do you remember what I told you? That they want to keep you overnight?”

“That does ring a bell,” you said as you rubbed your head. “Is the team here?”

“They are. I told them to wait outside until you were ready.”

“Oh, ok.” You thought for a moment. “Hotch?”

“Yes?”

“Can—Can you tell me what happened? Like, did we win? Is everyone ok?”

Hotch chuckled, but his eyes appeared sad. “Everyone is fine. We got him. Are you sure you want to talk about this now? Why don’t we wait until you—”

“Hotch. Please.”

Hotch sighed and took a moment to think. “Well, we knew we were looking for an expensive convertible thanks to you.” He smiled. “So, we began our search as you spoke. But then, we all heard you scream.”

You flinched at the word, your memory of the gruesome event beginning to reassemble.

“Of course, it was full speed at that point. He had you, and we weren’t going to lose you. We cornered him on a dead-end road just outside of campus. We didn’t let him get far. Prentiss shot out one of his tires, so he started running. Prentiss and Morgan ran for him, and I ran to you.”

He paused. He looked away as his bottom lip trembled. He took a deep breath in as he settled into his natural professionalism again.

“We had EMT on standby, so we were able to get here quickly.”

You nodded, realizing it was Hotch who carried you out. The fireworks, the lights, the “stay with me”, the reality of it all crashed in on you in the form of a shudder.

“It was you?” you asked.

Hotch knit his eyebrows together and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“You pulled me out. I felt you. I think I heard you.”

“Someone had to make sure you were ok.”

The fact that it was Hotch warmed your heart. Still, a question lingered in your mind. “Is he still alive?”

Hotch shook his head no.

“Mm,” was all you could say in response. There was no room for emotion. No time to process an opinion. You were just glad it was over. “What time is it?”

Hotch checked his watch. “It’s 2:43.”

“In the morning? Sir, with all good intentions, go to bed. Go tell the team to—”

Just behind Hotch, you caught a glimpse of Spencer in the doorway. “Is now a good time?” he asked.

You smiled and nodded. Spencer peeked his head back out and in a loud whisper said, “It’s clear! Go, go, go!”

The rest of the team hustled into the room and crowded around your bed. One by one, greetings and gentle hugs made their rounds, and your smile grew bigger and bigger.

“It’s a party now,” you said, a giggle bubbling out of your throat.

“Oh, she’s got the right idea,” JJ said as she sat close to you on the bed. She carefully moved a strand of hair from your face.

Prentiss laughed. “All we need now is some good music, a dance floor, and some drinks.”

The room filled with a few laughs and overall agreement.

“Too bad you all aren’t even supposed to be here,” Hotch said, slightly scolding the team. “It’s probably time for you all to call it a night.”

“Aw, Hotch, just a few minutes?” Garcia asked.

“We’ll be quiet!” Reid said.

Everyone looked at Hotch expectantly. You looked around at your teammates. They all were begging for a couple more minutes with you. That alone allowed your pain to subside.

Hotch sighed. “Just a couple more minutes.” A small smile formed on his face.

Everyone crowded around the bed, content murmurs and chatter filling the room again.

“Now be honest, guys. How bad do I look?” You shot them all a cheesy smile to sell it.

A few of them chuckled at your antics.

“I think you’ll be back to dating in no time,” Prentiss joked. “Guys love a badass scar.”

“Yeah, ’cause she was dating before,” JJ teased as she played with your hair.

“Shut up!” you giggled, coughing a little.

“I’ll get you water.” Hotch shot up and walked off.

“I’ll go with him,” Rossi said, sighing.

A seriousness enveloped the room. Derek was the first to speak up. “You know, you really scared us today, kiddo. Not to get all big brother on you, but it was tough seeing Hotch carrying you like that. Just limp.”

“And imagine how Hotch must have felt,” Reid said.

You looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

Just then Hotch and Rossi returned with your water.

“Drink,” he said, his arm outstretched. You grabbed the water from him, your fingers overlapping his. The memory of his hands shot through your spine. His frantic begging for you to stay with him, much more panicked than you remembered the phrase.

Imagine how Hotch must have felt.

“It’s getting late,” Rossi said.

The rest of the team grumbled and said their goodbyes. Hotch allowed the rest of the team to go, lingering in the room with you.

“If you need me to stay, I’d be happy to do so.”

“You need sleep, sir.”

“I’ll sleep on the plane,” he said as if it was nothing to him. “If you don’t think you’ll need me, I can let you be. We can be here early to pick you up.”

You thought for a moment. You didn’t want him to go, just in case. “Would you be willing to stay?”

“It’s why I offered.”

You felt your lip begin to tremble, the brave face for the rest of the team beginning to fade. “Hotch?”

“What can I do?”

“Well, I just… Can I use your phone? I think my mom should know I’m alright.”

“Of course.” He handed you his phone. “I’ll wait right outside for you.”

When the phone call was finished, Hotch returned and sat down in the chair.

“If you’re going to stay, I at least want you comfortable,” you said.

“The chair is fine,” Hotch said, taking his coat off for the first time today. “Get some sleep.”

You scooted to the side of your bed. “Here. At least sit up here where there’s some cushion.”

He didn’t respond right away. You knew you could convince him.

“I promise I’ll sleep,” you continued. “I’d be up worrying about your discomfort otherwise.”

Hotch sighed and stood up. “Only because I want you to sleep.”

He sat in the space you made for him at your feet. He stretched his legs alongside yours and rested his back against the footboard of the hospital bed.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you curled up on your side. The comfort in knowing that he was there to take care of you was enough to send you off to sleep in minutes.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Goodnight.”

------

You woke up to something you had never seen before. Hotch was asleep at the foot of your bed, resting his head against your shins. A hand was placed just below your knee as if he planned to protect you in his sleep. It was the most peaceful you had ever seen him. He didn’t look cross or serious. He was calm and relaxed. You smiled to yourself. You had to fight the urge to return his touch. You knew the moment he woke up he’d return to his professional senses, and you weren’t quite ready for this moment to be over.

The doctor walked in to check on you, stirring him awake, anyway.

“I’m clearing you. Take these twice a day. Your jaw is going to be sore for a couple weeks, so work up to crunchy and chewy foods. And please, no strenuous activity for at least a full week.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, taking the bottle of pills.

“Thank you,” Hotch said. He stood up from your bed as the doctor left. He threw his jacket on and fixed his hair in the window’s reflection.

You sat up and swung your legs off the bed. Hotch spun around and met you at your side.

“How can I help?”

You chuckled. “I think I can stand on my own.”

His eyes shared signs of concern and disbelief. Still, he took a small step back and allowed you to gather your bearings. Standing on your own, you closed the small gap between you. You began to become painstakingly aware of your attire being only a hospital gown and rubber socks.

“You got it?” Hotch asked, his arms out like you were a baby taking your first steps.

“Mmhmm,” you said. “Are my clothes here?”

“Yes, let me grab them for you.” He rushed to the corner of the room where your clothes had been neatly folded, including his sweater. He handed them all to you, his hands brushing against yours. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he stood over you. You looked up at him. His eyes returned your gaze, though you weren’t able to read him. His chest rose and fell as if his breathing was slow and deliberate.

“I’m going to call the team,” Hotch said, his voice low. “Do you—do you need help with anything before I do?”

All you could do was shake your head no on instinct, your eyes not leaving his. He stayed still. His eyes scanned you like he was contemplating something. He backed up carefully and pulled his phone from his coat pocket.

“Wait,” you said.

He froze.

You felt your face redden as you worked up the courage to continue. “Could—could you untie the top for me? My shoulder—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he said softly as he inched forward again. “Turn around.”

You did as you were told. He brushed your hair over your shoulder and began to work on the knot. His calloused fingers feathered your skin. His warm breath betrayed you as chills ran down your spine. He untied the knot, allowing cool air to reach the back of your now-open gown. Hotch turned to leave.

“Be careful,” he said at the door. “If you need me, knock on the glass.”

You nodded.

He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

------

The drive from the hospital to the hotel rendered the air stale. Hotch had insisted on helping you out of the hospital and into the car. But he didn’t speak. He drove while you sat in the back seat. Every once in a while, you’d catch him checking on you in the rear-view mirror, only to direct his attention back to the road.

When you returned to the hotel, Hotch stopped you from leaving the car.

“I’ll grab your things. You stay here.”

“I can get my things just fine.”

“Your bag is heavy. Doctor’s orders. No strenuous activity. Stay here.”

You huffed and sat back in your seat as Hotch closed the door for you.

The plane ride was the same: silent. Hotch sat opposite you as if he refused to allow you to leave his sight. But he kept to himself all the same. The others rested or played their card games, but you stayed put, almost waiting for Hotch to make his next move. He didn’t speak the entire flight.

Upon your return, Hotch dismissed the rest of the team.

“Thank you for the hard work this weekend. Rest up, and I will see you all Monday.”

You all headed out to leave, but Hotch stopped you. “Let me take you home,” he said.

You sighed. “Is driving a strenuous task now?”

“It’s late, and I’m not asking,” he said, returning your attitude.

You followed him to his car. He carried both his and your bag and placed them in the backseat before joining you up front.

Again, not a word was spoken between the two of you. You felt your blood boiling beneath your skin. It was as if the trip never happened, as if the distance between you never closed. The babying was the worst of all. You were sure he was seeing you as the rest of the team did now, incapable, fragile, only a child.

Hotch walked you up to your apartment. He waited for you to open your door, placing your bag directly inside.

“Well,” you began, “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

He stood in your doorway for a moment, something on his mind. “Are you sure you’re ok? Is there anything else you think you may need before I go?”

“Hotch, what is all this?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You tried to maintain your sanity, but the anger had bubbled into your throat. “All this, this, this coddling! You’re treating me like I’m fragile or, or useless!”

“Do I have to remind you that you were in the hospital this morning?” Hotch asked, aggravation coating his throat.

“I don’t need this from you, too, ok? The rest of them, I can take it, but you were different! I thought you were different.”

Hotch closed the door behind him and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”

“Have you not noticed that all of them treat me like I’m a child? Derek literally calls me kiddo, and the girls act like I’m some innocent girl fresh out of high school. Reid and JJ are five years older than me. That’s it! Rossi, forget it. I’m like a grandchild to him at this point. But you, you never belittled me. So, what is this? Did I fail you? I’d rather you just tell me than refuse to speak to me.”

“I – you didn’t fail me. How could you think that?”

“You couldn’t even look at me after the hospital.”

Hotch’s face turned a light shade of pink, his eyes leaving yours for only a moment. “We were successful because of you. But you got hurt. I just want to make sure you’re ok. That’s all.”

You thought for a moment, still not satisfied with his answer. “Then why didn’t you talk to me? I thought we were—I thought maybe there was something—”

“Please,” Hotch interrupted, “don’t say anything you might regret.” He took a step back.

“Are you saying I’m imagining this? That I imagined this morning?”

“No, no, no. We’re not doing this.”

“The coffee, the book put away neatly,”

“I would do that for anyone.”

“What about when you stormed out yesterday? When we were going over the file on your bed.” Your voice started to shake.

“That’s when I—I realized we had to use you.” He looked down, almost ashamed.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear that you’ve outed yourself and maybe you were more delusional than you thought.

“This morning…” you said.

“You asked for my help, and I helped you. Just like I’m happy to do for you now if you need. Look, it’s late, and you’ve gone through a lot.”

“Then what did Reid mean?”

Hotch looked back up at you. He looked nervous, something you may have never seen in his eyes before. “What do you mean?”

“He said imagine how you must have felt when you found me. What did he mean by that if it doesn’t mean you care about me?”

“Of course, I care about you!” he exclaimed, moving closer to you. “I almost lost you! And when I found you, I thought you were gone. You were lifeless. So, forgive me for wanting to be careful with you, because I refuse to let that happen again. I refuse to lose you again.”

You looked at him in shock.

He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said any of this. Listen, the only reason you’re feeling anything for me is because it’s me you woke up to. Nothing more. If Reid or Morgan found you, the same thing would happen with them.”

“Do not chalk this up to some damsel in distress situation,” you said a little too boldly. “The whole team knows I have a thing for you.”

Now Hotch was in shock. He shook his head. “It’s not me you want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“I know you’re desperate for romance in your life because you either don’t make time for it in real life or were burned so bad in the past, that you gave it up entirely.”

“Hotch, don’t you dare profile me right now.”

“I know you have a rocky relationship with men in general, rooted in your relationship with your father.”

“Stop it, now.”

“You refuse to associate with him in any way. You don’t even allow us to call you by your last name. He views you differently from your sisters for some reason, and you hate him for it.”

“Hotch, I swear to god—”

“You mocked him for giving good advice, and you flinched when I brought up getting beers with him. He’s an alcoholic, isn’t he?”

“So, what, honestly? Literally who cares if he drinks? He gets mean, so what? What gives you the right to tell me what I can and cannot have?”

“But he’s not just mean, is he?”

The air in your lungs got caught in your throat.

“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s how he treats you differently.”

“That’s enough,” you said, your voice cold.

Hotch stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders with both hands. You shuddered in his grasp. “You don’t want me, ok? I can’t fix what you’ve gone through. I can’t even protect you at work. Do you know the guilt I feel for what happened to you? I’m the one who got you hurt. And now I have to live with that. What makes you think that I can be what you need if I can’t even keep you safe here?”

You closed what little space was left between you. You looked up at him, your face only inches from his. “Stop telling me what I want. I’m an adult. I can make my own choices. You’re not going to push me away like this.”

Hotch’s breath hitched in his throat. His chest heaved up and down, and his eyes darkened. “This is wrong. I’m your superior. This isn’t appropriate.”

“If you truly don’t want me, I’ll stop. We’ll go back to how things were. But you have to say you don’t want me.”

His grip on your shoulders strengthened, his touch burning into your skin. His now wild eyes scanned you as if he couldn’t have fathomed this happening. A lump formed in your throat as you waited for him to find the words. Instead, he pulled you flush against him and pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was raw and desperate, rougher than your healing jaw could take, but you couldn’t care less. He wrapped his arms around your back and gripped your hair as if it was instinctual. Your breathing hitched, causing you to moan into his mouth.

He pulled away, slightly out of breath. “I need you to tell me this is ok.”

“This is ok,” you said, breathless.

“Good,” Hotch said, “because I don’t want to stop.”

A smirk formed on your face. You grabbed a hold of his tie and pulled him closer to you. “Then I think you need to take this off.”

You dropped the tie and kissed him as he took his coat off. Your mouth wandered to his jaw. Hotch let out a groan.

“Your room. Now.”

His words sent chills down your spine. You took his hand and led him to your room. You turned around and watched Hotch remove his tie, sliding it through his collar. His eyes stayed on yours, his already dark eyes now almost black with desire. The moment his tie came off, he was back on you, kissing you like his life depended on it. His hands wandered to your ass and lifted you up, his lips never leaving your skin. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to your bed.

Hotch laid you down, now hovering over you. His lips drifted from yours down to your neck.

“Seeing you in this had me thinking horrible things,” Hotch confessed, slightly pulling on the quarter zip you were still wearing.

You blushed. “Really?” you asked, a smug smile growing on your face. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”

“Was it really that obvious?” Hotch asked, his large hands finding their way under your shirt.

You couldn’t even answer as his hands ventured up to your chest. His hands pulled a moan from your mouth.

“Take this off,” Hotch said as he pulled the hem of your shirt.

“You, first.”

Hotch’s eyebrows raised as if surprised by your reply. He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. You practically drooled at the sight of him shirtless. You could only assume he was fit when he rolled up his sleeves or manhandled unsubs, but this was all the confirmation you needed.

“Your turn,” he said.

You did as you were told, revealing yourself to him.

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed as he kissed your chest.

You fought off a moan. You couldn’t believe this was happening. This was only something you pictured in your wildest dreams, and here he was in the flesh.

“I wanted this for so long,” you found yourself saying out loud.

“Me, too,” he agreed. “You have no idea how much I thought about this.”

Your cheeks flushed red. He began leaving marks past your breasts, down your stomach to the hem of your shorts.

“Can I take these off?” Hotch asked.

You nodded.

“Use your words, honey.”

Your stomach did a flip hearing the phrase. “Yes, sir. Take them off.”

He all but growled in response. He pulled at your shorts, taking them off in a swift motion.

“So much for no strenuous activities,” you joked.

“I can be gentle,” Hotch said as he settled in between your legs. “Let me take care of you.”

Your head fell back onto your pillow. You knew you were in for it.

Hotch spread your legs apart, the stretch enough for you to arch into his touch.

A smirk graced his lips, and without another word, he licked into your core. His mouth against you was like a gift from God, something you had only hoped could feel so good. You couldn’t help but squirm against him, grabbing his hair to pull him closer, if at all possible. He placed a hand on your stomach to keep you still. You could feel him smile against you, turning you on even more.

“Hotch,” you breathed out. You were close faster than you had ever been.

“Say my name,” he said as he placed a finger inside you.

“A-Aaron,” you choked out, the new sensation too much to handle. He filled you with another finger, his hitting the spot your fingers never could.

“Fuck, Aaron, don’t stop. Please.” Your breathing quickened, and as he pumped his fingers in and out, you felt the coil in your stomach snap, expletives and his name leaving your lips. Hotch continued to pump you as you rode your high, a daze overtaking you.

When you caught your breath, you pulled Hotch back up for a kiss, your hands finding their way to his belt.

Hotch’s hands stopped yours. You looked up at him, confused.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“I want this if you do. Do you?” you asked.

“I really do,” he said. “I need to feel you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Then please let me help you.”

He released your hands and kissed your forehead as you unbuckled his belt. The moment felt ironically wholesome until you pulled at his dress pants. You couldn’t help but gawk at his cock springing free. You were suddenly nervous, not quite sure it would fit after all this time practically revirginizing. If your jaw weren’t so sore, you’d have him in your mouth without a second thought.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he said as if he could hear your thoughts. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Hotch hovered over you and kissed your lips softly. You returned the kiss and nodded.

Hotch lined himself up with your entrance and carefully pushed in. He and you both groaned at the sensation, the stretch of him filling you something you hadn’t experienced in years.

“Jesus Christ. You’re so, this isn’t your first time, is it?”

“No, no,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just been a while. Just, just go slow, ok?”

Hotch nodded and started to move. He rested his forehead on yours, sighs and pants escaping both of your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Hotch asked.

You chuckled at his question. “We’re a little past that, aren’t we?”

Hotch smiled as he placed his lips on yours, much more tender than before. He moved a stray hair from your face and cupped your cheek with the utmost gentility. The urgency was gone, replaced by something deeper. Everything had culminated to this moment, and neither of you wanted to waste it.

Still, the need for more overtook you. “Aaron,” you said, your hips bucking up into his.

“What do you need? I need you to tell me.”

“Faster, please,” you said.

His pace quickened, one hand still around you. He used the other to stabilize himself, allowing you to view the tension in his muscles. You bit back a moan as the pressure inside you built.

“Don’t hold back,” Hotch said. “Let me hear you.”

He slammed into you, a smirk growing on his face as your breath caught in your throat.

“Just like that!” you blurted out.

He did just that, slamming into you again and again.

“Fuck. I don’t know how much longer I can last,” Hotch said, his voice almost shaking.

“I’m close, too. Please don’t stop,” you begged.

He pounded into you harder and faster, no longer a rhythm but a motive, a goal to achieve.

“Come for me, honey. I’ve got you. Just come for me.”

You clenched around him as you came, all but screaming his name. His pace didn’t let up as you rode your orgasm, your legs trembling around him.

“Oh, god. I’m gonna, where do I—”

“Chest!”

He pulled out and came on your chest, making the most attractive groans you had ever heard in your life. You watched in awe, absolute shock overtaking you. Never in your wildest dreams did you picture this. And for the love of god, you hoped this wasn’t the last time this happened.

Hotch crawled over you, still catching his breath, and captured your lips in a kiss.

“How are you feeling?” Hotch asked. “Is your head ok?”

“I’m good,” you said smiling at his return to his overprotective self. “I’m really good. I promise.”

Hotch rested his forehead on yours then kissed you, the tenderness returning.

“I like when you do that,” you said, your cheeks reddening.

“Me, too,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“You don’t have to help, if you don’t want to.”

“What, and miss showering with you?” Hotch smiled. “Just lead the way.”

In the shower, the two of you washed up, and you couldn’t knock the smile from your face if you tried, until you thought about showing up to work Monday morning.

“What are you thinking about?” Hotch asked.

“The team’s gonna know,” you said.

Hotch thought for a moment. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, well, I wouldn’t have done it in this order, but would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow evening?”

You blushed, despite the state you were both in. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Hotch smiled. “I’m asking you on a date, yes. I have to be honest, though, I’m out of practice.”

“If tonight was you out of practice, I think tomorrow will go just fine.”

Hotch laughed and kissed you again, something you hoped would never fade in your memory.

************

ForeversTaglist:

@lizziedizzie3 @heavennleeee-blog @hunterswearingplaid @thisismysecrethappyplace @geekinator9 @ronnie248-blog @oliolioxiclean @phonegalhelp @because-you-never-know-when @roonyxx @keithseabrook27 @ericaprice2008 @heythereamigodude

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #bau team #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fluff

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igotanidea · 4 months

Text

Stuck: Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

A/N: seriously, I almost titled this chapter "idiot" , XD (and that's also the spoiler alert XD)

part 1 to too much

part 2 : not enough

part 3 : almost there

***

One year ago

„When will you get those irrational thoughts out of your head Y/N?”

“What irrational thoughts?”

“About marriage out of love. No such thing exist in the world, my dear and if you do not start living in reality you shall become a spinster!”

“Mother!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the harsh and unjust words. She was still so young and to almost be called an old maid—

“Do not raise your voice young lady. You shall marry this season otherwise you would be putting our noble house in a very compromising position.”

“But-“

“Ah! Do not object your mother Y/N. You’ll do as I say. I know what’s best for you and you shall follow the lead. And that is precisely why you’ll accept when Lord Bridgerton proposes to you.”

“Lord Bridgerton!? Which one!?”

“The viscount, dear.” Her mother fluttered her fan imperiously. “Lord Anthony Bridgerton.”

“There is no possibility that I-“

“Hush!”

“Mother I –“

“You’ll say yes.” The tone of voice became much more commanding, leaving no space for discussion. It was like Y/N’s fate has already been decided.

“And why shall I? Because the viscount has decided he has enough pleasantries exchanged with modistes and actresses and other ladies free of the burden of the title. Because mighty Lord Bridgerton decided it is time to tie bounds with a young noble lady, who will be naïve and foolish enough to look at his antics without as much as a blink of an eye. Who will – dear lord – bear him an heir to the title and be the perfect little wife he would order around.”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” her mother raised from the chaise longue with cheeks flushed due to her daughter impertinence. “You will accept the proposal!”

“I will not!”

“Your father has already made the appropriate commitments!”

“Commitments!?”

“You shall be courted like a young lady should and get married in the fall.”

“Mother!”

“It has been decided. Now, you go and make yourself presentable. Lord Bridgerton has announced his visit in the afternoon.”

***

The visit was a disaster, to use the light words.

It was clear as day that neither Anthony nor Y/N were fully content with this arrangement and subconsciously tried to discourage the other. That way, when one of them would actually break it off, said one would be to blame for the disgrace, that would undeniably fall on both families.

However-

Despite some many character discrepancies they were both pertinacious and individualistic, ready to go the greatest length to have one’s own way. Neither of them was even thinking of surrendering easily.

Therefore, during his first appointment as a suitor Anthony was met with cold stares, minimum exchange of words and very noticeable distance on his future bride’s part.

Immediately matching the atmosphere and repaying in kind, only doubled in intensity.

Getting burned with the tea in response.

Causing a lot of havoc, many fake words of apologies and even more words of assurance that is must have been an unfortunate accident and he holds no grudge.

For obvious reason the time spend in L/N;s household was cut extremely short and Y/N was send to bed without supper to think about her erratic behavior.

Next few visits were no better.

Especially not the one when Anthony and Y/N were to reveal to a wide audience the nature of their acquaintance by strolling on the promenade, beaming with happiness due to their soon-to-be marriage.

“Dear lord, you are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony hissed in Y/N’s ear grabbing her arm with a bit more force than needed “Smile.”

She put on a fake grin when they were passing by some familiar face, but as soon as the woman was gone she turned to Anthony throwing daggers at him.

“Giving me orders already, Lord Bridgerton?”

“Hopefully you can be tempered if we start getting you used to it this early.”

“Oh! Perhaps it should be you to change the perspective my lord. See the real face of a lady you decided to meet at the altar?”

“And here I though your wonderful mother raised you better.”

“Do not dare speak of my mother the ill way!” she almost yelled, almost yanking her hand free from his grip, stopping the walk and challenging him to do something reckless.

“Forgive me.” He became serious in an instant and the words of apologies actually seemed honest. “You are right, I overstepped.”

“Thank you.” She responded with a deep sigh. God knows how much it took for her to stay calm. Regardless of the on-going conflict and differences in views between Y/N and her mother, the young woman would never let anyone offend her family. Not even Lord Bridgerton. And he should know that straight away.

“Perhaps we have started off the wrong foot, Lady Y/L/N.”

“I believe so. Seemingly we have a way to bring out the worst in each other, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Is that a way to tell me I have already seen you on your lowest behavior?”

“Compliments, Lord Bridgerton, you have endured my greatest efforts to cause you dispiritedness.” Despite herself she let out a chuckle.

“I am known for my endurance even in the least favorable circumstances.”

“I shall keep on my efforts, nonetheless.”

“I am deeply convinced that this will be the case”

***

Dearest gentle reader,

It has come to this writer’s attention that the affection between Viscount Bridgerton and young lady Y/L/N is in full bloom.

Despite the initial misunderstandings and noble behavior, that hasn't deceived any member of the ton, even if have been well played, recent news and observation has shown that maybe there's less pretending and more truth to it.

Much to the ton’s discombobulation, young pair has been seen laughing together while the viscount resorted to courting in the way that resemble his late father and Lady Violet Bridgerton manner.

This writer daresay that no elite member would have ever do as much as dream of Lord Anthony Bridgerton picking meadow flowers for his chosen one while walking in the fields, away from prying eyes. Neither anyone would ever think about the forever dreamer lady Y/l/n actually so close to fulfilling her dream of marrying out of love. Irrational thoughts, as someone may put.

It is yet to be decided whether the on-going courtship between lord Bridgerton and lady Y/L/N will be a source of impending scandal in the society or whether those two will actually succeed in keeping this lovable atmosphere for following years.

After all – real love is not easily found and even less easily kept once the obstacles arise.

***

Now.

“You are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony murmured taking Y/N;s arm and bowing to the passing nobles “Smile.”

Those words brought back some memories and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the history that was in fact repeating itself.

“What is so funny?”

“Your memory does seem so be failing my lord. Won’t you remember the last situation when you told me to express my happiness and contentment to the ton?”

“I—” Anthony cut off, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh.

“Seem like you do after all.”

“Y/N…”

“Been a while since I had to pretend I was content though, given the fact that I truly was, of late.” The hint of sadness and melancholy was not to miss and did not make it easier for Anthony to pursue on the apologies he was tirelessly pursuing.

“Y/N…”

“Good job on choosing the right name since the person, whose hand you are now holding for display seem to be too much for you, my lord. To say the full truth I am fairly surprised you chased me here instead of focusing on spending time with one of your-“

“Don’t you finish that sentence.”

“Oh, I shall not, god forbid. I shall keep the pretenses as any lady married into a good family will.” She send the brightest smile to some kids that were running around, preached by their parents, holding her walls up.

At this point, mockery and distancing herself from the entire unfortunate events, if not fight, was the only way to prevent the emotional and mental breakdown and falling into tears. She was hurt. She was deeply hurt on a level she never thought existed. Anthony’s behavior hit precisely in all the sensitive spots, leaving her overthinking and wailing inside. Reminding her of all the years in her family’s household, being forced to act according to the standards, which she constantly broke, defying all the rules of ossified society and paying a heavy price for being herself despite the odds.

Being called too much, constantly.

Until she met Eloise, which was freeing. Y/N could finally feel like herself, spending a lot of time with Bridgertons.

And then meeting Anthony.

And actually creating a happy story with him, believing she would once and for all be free of the typecasting and tag putting.

But he started behaving in the same way to which she was exposed her entire life.

Too much.

Not enough.

And it made her angry.

“Please do forgive me for not easily being shaped in the wife you want me to be.”

“Shaped? I never wanted you any different!”

“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow teasingly and it got her furious glance of her husband’s and the tightening bruising grip on her wrist. “you’re hurting me. Again.” The emphasis put on the last word actually made Anthony realize that he was not made of stone, but the words he wished to say were not coming easily.

“Y/N…” he clenched his jaw. She was mocking and challenging him even now, when he was trying to admit he was wrong and trying to apologize for the wrongdoings.

“Yes, my lord?” she took a step back, smiling in that light way that made him even more furious.

“I believe you wanted to spend time on an intellectual conversation with my sister. Forgive me-“ he bowed in a distant manner reserved for strangers rather than spouses “-for being as impertinent to interrupt ladies’ time. I shall withdraw and leave you to continue on your – surely important- exchange”

And with those words, much to the shock of not only Y/N, but also Benedict and Eloise, who were still following them, Anthony bowed again and started walking away, raising clouds of dust due to the speed with which he rushed off from the place where he left his beloved wife.

Feeling the weight of failure and heartbreak on his shoulders, without a single way to make up for his mistake and keeping the face of a viscount at the same time.

Convinced that she hated him and there was no way to regain her favor and affection.

next part (finale!) : Just right

@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #bridgerton angst #anthony bridgerton angst

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hanaonesflower · 2 months

Text

“let me do this for you.”

“let me get that for you.”

“don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

when nanami was around, it was like being watched by a hawk. not in a bad way of course, just not a way you're probably used to. he is always on it, taking care of everything from beginning to end, hell bent on you not ever lifting a finger and actually bar you from doing it, even behind his back.

"seriously, kento, I can do it myself!"

"absolutely not, you worked all day, when you come home, I take care of you."

you try to bargain, dishing out facts that he, too, has a full time job that usually pushes him to the brink of exhaustion that he may or may not recover from, yet, here he is, elbows deep in dough, insistent on making pasta from scratch. according to a recipe that you may have briefly mentioned weeks ago that you wanted to try.

you tried to pick up the knife and dice the tomatoes or turn on the stove, he shoos you away.

"this is getting out of control, kento."

"you can help me by taking a nice warm long bath, honey."

nanami knows what he's doing, the majority of the time. but will he ever express that he fumbles from time to time? never. not that his ego is inflated, but because he has prided himself for being to care for you boundlessly.

so when you leave the bath and find kento with his hand in a bucket of ice water, you realize something have gone south in the kitchen.

"kento! what happened?!"

"nothing to worry about my l-"

"enough! tell me, now."

your stern voice and attitude stun him, he's never seen you like this before. his behavior is downright concerning, he hasn't always been this way though. sure, he loves by serving, but he isn't always this stubborn or ridiculously protective. you have always cooked together, why would it be different this time, or the last few times within the past couple of months. nanami isn't unreasonable, but he can be if something pricked at his pride.

"I may have burned myself with the hot steam."

"may have? your skin is having a terrible reaction! for a smart man you can be so clumsy sometimes."

"it's not that bad."

you glare.

"okay, it's pretty burnt and it hurts."

"I bet it does."

you slowly pull his hand out from the ice bucket and lead him to the kitchen table and command him to sit still when you fetch the first aid. his palm is raw from the burn and his face twists in pain when you apply some pressure.

there isn't much conversation exchanged between you and him, but something is definitely hanging above your heads. kento seems to be closed off to it, but you're willing to get to the root of things.

"you haven't been yourself lately."

silence.

"I feel like this is not just about providing for me, something happened, and it affected you."

kento looks saddened by this. you are spot on. something did happen.

a few months ago, during a dinner party amongst friends, kento found himself begrudgingly involved in unpleasant conversations with his colleagues, the way they audaciously questioned his ability to care for his partner when he was always away on work trips or spending extra time at work. he took it to heart, kento questioned himself. he realized, that even though his colleagues were terribly annoying and invasive, they made some considerable points. he made the executive decision to fully take over, spinning a complete 180 on you. at first you thought it was sweet, until it became authoritarian.

"that's really how you feel?"

"have I been absent to you, y/n?"

you contemplate for a while, you truly wish he is around more, but you always understand the nature of his job.

"I do wish I can see you more often, when you had that 2-week long vacation, I was able to spend such amazing quality time with you, and it was awesome, but I also understand how your job is. I didn't want to come in between that."

"so I have been absent." he moaned defeatedly.

"please don't blame it on yourself like this, it's not healthy, I still love you, kento."

"this is all my fault, y/n, I should have been there for you more."

truthfully, you wish he was, but once again, you are both stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"have you been doing all this to somehow compensate?"

"is it working?"

he is trying to humor you, although at quite a horrid time, you still crack a smile.

"I think it's very kind of you."

he sighs.

"please, forgive me, my love. I became what you called a workaholic, I tried to get more hours to provide for you, only to come short in other aspects."

"I'm not an unemployed housewife, kento."

“this isn’t my way of saying that you are incapacitated in any way, i just wish that you didn’t have to worry about anything,” he groaned from the incessant gnawing of the antiseptic on his burnt wound.

“kento, this is a partnership, you’re not my servant and i’m not a spoiled brat,” he felt a little silly, nanami knew this fact yet he felt impotent in this sense. he opened and closed his lips, hoping to get his point across even further but nothing seemed good enough at theis point, he’s done fighting.

“whatever you’re going to say, it’s not going to change the fact that i love you,” you silence him.

“then can i say that i love you, too?”

“that, you can.”

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧

note: PHEEeewww… it’s really good to be back :33 this piece shall be the redebut as it is one of my cuter fics. going back with smut pieces after such a long hiatus didn’t feel right so – soft nanami is always the way to go!! more content will be coming soon (smut included >.>), stay tuned ( ˘ ³˘)

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #soft nanami #nanami can do no wrong #nanami kento jjk #jjk nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #kento nanami #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk scenarios #jjk fic #aisssHHH i love him more than ever b4 #just the sweetest broody guy evaaaa

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garoujo · 11 months

Text

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU ; — you can’t help but feel a little upset thinking that your boyfriend has forgotten your anniversary.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, none, fluff! although it gets a tiny bit hawt at the end! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! an anon suggested this drabble idea literally like sometime last year + the new szn finally gave me some motivation to write it! i hope u see this!

3 years.. 3 years and gojo didn’t leave you with so much as a “happy anniversary” as he left this morning. you’d have even taken an extra smack on the ass during your usual morning makeout session, the taste of his two sugar’s too sweet coffee on his tongue as it twists with yours and his hands on your waist.. but that’s it, that’s all???

so now you’re here, angrily stomping back to your shared apartment after the few errands you had to run today because you took the day off to celebrate. but your dumb, stupidly handsome boyfriend doesn’t even know what for as he rambles on the other side of the phone.

“can feel you poutin’, what’s gotten into my sweet girl? hm?” gojo hums like hes thinking about something, his same sickly sweet tone dripping through you like honey despite the way you want to be mad at him right now— you would’ve ignored the call all together, just to be petty if you didn’t know he’d turn up at the door a second later.

“nothing. i’m just almost home that’s all.” you’re lying and you know he can tell, he always could. he could pick up every slight, little change in your attitude like he seen right through you.

“oh yeah? nothing at all on your mind?” gojo drawls again, there’s a teasing lull to his voice and it makes your pout puff out even more before he breathes out a low chuckle and sighs. “and here i thought you were mad at me. you almost made me cry at work— who would take me seriously then, huh?”

“you’re not funny.” you huff out, short and a little clipped as you finally come to a stop infront of your apartment door — fiddling with your keys in your hand while your pout still rests on your features.

“you sure?”

you really can’t be bothered playing gojo’s games right now and as amusing as he seems to find himself, it’s only making you burn hotter — making your stomach twist with the lump in your throat that you’ve been fighting to keep down all day. you don’t want to get upset, but it meant a lot to you.

you just wanted him to maybe put in a little effort on the one day that you guys really get to celebrate eachother.

“positive. so i’m gonna g—“ you can barely finish your own spiralling, upsetting thoughts before your snapped response through your phone fades on your tongue. but suddenly, the tears youd been fighting to hold back all day seem to come so ruthlessly, gathering along your lashes as you gaze onto the ocean of red that greets you as you open the door.

you’re not sure how many bouquets there are waiting for you there. hundreds? thousands? sitting pretty along the floor, decorating the shared space so beautifully that you don’t even realise that you’ve gone quiet. ofcourse gojo would do something like this, and suddenly you feel a little silly for even doubting him.

“ah, fine. i guess i’ll get the guy to come pick all of those back up then, huh, sweet thing?”

but the smooth tone that sounds from your phone speaker sounds a little louder, closer when it’s accompanied by a long arm wrapping around your waist from behind as kisses are pressed up the side of your neck.

“but, you—“ you try but you feel so overwhelmed, so full of love as gojo’s large figure drapes over you from behind. his face is stuffed into the crook of your neck and you can feel the way his crooked smile sits on his features as it presses against your skin. he feels warm, although you’re sure he’s more than smug right now when he pulls away with an exaggerated gasp that cuts off your sentence.

“as if you’re perfect, good looking boyfriend would ever forget. what do you take me for, hm?” you giggle at that despite the way he’s teasing you again, squeezing at your sides until you’re meeting his gaze and you’re sure you must look so in love when you notice the way his features soften slightly.

“happy anniversary, princess.” gojo grins as he leans into kiss you breathless, twisting into your mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips and you almost rock back with how dizzy he makes you feel. but his hands are on your hips, keeping you close against his chest with a stability that you’d always found in him.

another long press of his lips with yours and you whimper sweetly as he pulls away to look at you, pretty gaze glowing slightly from under the snowy peaks of his hair before he’s smirking again, maybe a little wider this time.

“you gonna laugh f’ me when i tell jokes again? i can feel the tears threatening to start again.” he’s like a professional when his cheeky grin twists into an exaggerated pout, making you laugh again— a little harder this time before you’re pinching at his cheeks playfully and bringing him in for another quick kiss.

“you’re such a dork.” you tease and gojo groans against your lips like he’s offended.

“mmm, no thank you? oh i’m hurt, sweet girl. what’ll i do with you now, hm?” the look he gives you as he pulls away is suspicious, a raised brow as his head falls to the side and he really looks like he’s considering it. until the next moment his large palm is coming down heavy on your ass before his next handful squeezes.

“satoru!” you squeal but that only seems to make him chuckle as he leans down to kiss you again, rougher this time despite the way you’re both smiling giddily into the shared, messy press of eachother. almost too quickly finding yourself pressed up against the wall in the hallway as he melts into you.

“let’s see! oh, i’ve got a few ideas.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff

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nvuy · 23 days

Note

im like itching for a boothill x single parent romance. LIKE WHAT IF they moved in next to boothill and everyones like "naww dont go near that guy hes scary and shit" but when kid sees boothill they get so intrigued by boothill they try to get close to him every time they see and hes just... scared? or paranoid, so he doesnt let them close. and then one time kid was still asking questions to boothill and stuff, parent was rushing looking for them, they see them, and then goes like "omf sir im so sorry my kid bothered you" and then boothill is like "nah its ok id do anyt- no what i mean we just met its cool btw lmao"

yk that one scene in a goofy movie where max get laughed at on the bleachers and then roxanne comes and picks him up and asks if he’s alright and then max starts babbling absolute gibberish yep

“So, how strong are you, mister?”

Boothill’s fingers are pressed against the girl’s tiny tiny hands. So small and little and squishy, and he seriously contemplated squishing her until she popped. His palm is cold against hers, and she giggles at the difference in size.

“Hmm…” He leans back on his heels in his squatting position in the front garden. He taps his chin in thought. “Don’t gotta clue. Anythin’ you need me to pick up?”

The girl gasps and there’s stars in her eyes. “Can you pick me up?” She stretches out her arms towards him.

He cracks a grin at her and ruffles her hair. “I dunno. You might be a bit heavy.” He’s teasing her, of course, but she pouts.

“At least try.”

“Alright, little lady.” He hooks his arms underneath hers and hoists her up easily, hands locked at her ribs. “How’s that? Good enough for ya?”

She hums thoughtfully, a cheeky smile on her face as she, too, taps her chin. “Now you gotta carry me for the entire day.”

It was his turn to pout. “N’aw. That’s no fair.”

“There you are!” There’s a rustle of footsteps and the jangling of keys to his left that made him stiffen for a moment, before your familiar face comes into view. Your eyes flit from him to your daughter. “I’ve been calling you for lunch.”

Oh, great Heavens.

“Hi, gorg– uh…” The ranger stumbles over his tongue and zips his lips shut when a small smile stretches into your lips. “We were– I was just– uh…”

Your daughter looks upset when Boothill gently places her back down in the grass.

“Just horsin’ ‘round,” he finishes. “I was just passin’ by, y’see? And your lil’ princess chased me down.”

You clear your throat, staring down at your shoes for a moment and trying to hide the heat rising from your neck to your face.

“I’m sorry about her,” you say to him. “She’s, um… hard to control.”

“That’s a good thing,” he whispers down to your daughter. “Means you got a free spirit.” He pokes her in the side and she giggles.

You give him another look and his eyes snap to the left, and a casual tune leaves his lips in the form of a whistle.

You offer a hand to the girl. “I made pasta.”

Your daughter practically barrels into your side, almost knocking you over with how her small arms wrap around your hips—she used to only be able to reach your knees. God, time flies.

Your eyes flit to the ranger once more. “Um… I made a lot so… if you’re hungry…” Your eyes trail down to his stomach before you swallow. “Do you get hungry?”

He studies your face for a moment with a pensive look.

Then, Boothill snorts. “Nah, sugar.”

Your face is burning. “Right. Well, you’re welcome to come in, anyway.”

“Oh, please have lunch with us!” your daughter all but begs. Her hands have now interlocked in front of her in a pleading gesture, and she’s offering him her most intense puppy eyes. “I can show you my room.”

He’s immediately swayed. “Well, it’s hard to say no to a cute thing like you.” He reaches down and pinches her cheek.

He watches you blink, perhaps taken aback for a moment.

He thinks you’re so beautiful, even if the apron you’re wearing is covered in sauce stains.

He almost starts cheering when you visibly perk up. “You’ll join us?”

“’Course! I’d do anythin’ for y–” He stops himself by digging his teeth into his tongue. “I mean… if ya insist.”

He can tell you’re biting the inside of your cheeks to keep yourself from smiling too wide. You pucker your lips and look elsewhere, face dark with blood.

Your daughter is strangely silent. He notices she’s enamoured with a bright blue butterfly floating along one of the bushes nearby.

“Cool.” You can’t think of anything else to really say. You rock on your heels absentmindedly. “I’d like that.”

His smile grows impossibly wider. “Would ya now?” He taps your nose once before he bends down to greet your daughter again. “Lead the way, little lady.”

“One sec,” you mumble, digging in your pockets.

You fumble for your ring of keys before you throw them quite badly at the cyborg. He manages to catch them well enough, fingers frozen over the steel.

Huh?

“It’s, um… the purple key. For the front door.”

Sure enough, one of the keys was coated in a deep purple.

Your daughter has already begun sprinting towards the front door. You’re half keeping a close eye on her through your peripherals, but your gaze wanders from her to watch him closely.

“I have a spare so… you can have it,” you continue slowly. Was this… too forward?

Boothill eyes you for a moment. A hand moves to his hips.

Then, in a flash, he pulls the purple key off of the ring it’s attached to and gently tosses it back at you. You struggle to catch them, but you manage with shaky hands and stuff them back into your pocket.

“‘Ppreciate it, pretty thing. You know just how to make a man swoon.”

He blows you a kiss with the steel to his lips and then tips his hat. He catches up with your daughter in no time, sweeping her off her feet and letting her slot the key in the lock to open the door.

You realise when he’s staring at you, one hand holding your own front door open expectantly, that you’re standing out in your front garden gawking at him like an idiot.

You quickly follow him inside, and he closes the door behind you. He’s quick to swing an arm around your waist when you guide him into the kitchen.

#boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill hsr #boothill #this blog is so boothill centric it’s disgusting … please stop ……#the damage this man has done to my brain is irreversible #✦ ( love mail. )#✦ ( anon. )#✦ ( scribbles. )

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satowooo · 5 months

Text

Marriage of Convenience with Geto Suguru

pt 1.

arranged husband!geto x fem!reader

contents: fluff, jealous!reader, slow burn trope, suguru is a little whipped, soft!suguru, words of affirmations

cw: nsfw, a bit dirty talks, breeding kink, oral sex (f. receiving), missionary

link for pt. 2

***

arranged husband!geto suguru being the stoic and cold man in the relationship, despite how he already found you so beautiful the first time his family introduced you to him.

arranged husband!geto suguru who simply asked you about your hobbies and interests while you two walked through the garden of his clan's home just to get to know you, maintaining a serious and professional tone of his voice.

arranged husband!geto suguru who was shocked hearing your soft voice as you two talked about how your arrangement will work. when you said you don't expect love from him and promised to do your duties as his wife, his heart ached a bit.

arranged husband!geto suguru who showed you your new home, watching as your mouth gaped open at the big mansion. he chuckled when he saw how your eyes widened even more when he told you he designed the house.

arranged husband!geto suguru who felt sorry he had to leave the first morning of living together as a married couple due to handling the clan's business, saying he'll come home as quickly as he could. when you gave him a nod and a small smile, he knew you were only being understanding as his wife, and as having the first day together.

arranged husband!geto suguru who came home tired and asked how you are at the dining table. "fine, i'm still trying to get used to this arrangement," you said truthfully. suguru appreciated the fact that you were always straightforward since the first time you met, and he was making sure to make adjustments for you so you'd be comfortable.

"how about your bed? is it to your comfort?" he asked like a professional businessman. you nodded your head as a response. "if you get uncomfortable, or if there's anything not in your liking, please do tell me so i can get something better for you."

arranged husband!geto suguru who took you to adventure the big mansion. exploring every corner of the house, and even outside the gardens.

"why did you construct such a big house for two people?" you asked. "i know there are a few servants too, but still... it's a little big."

"it's just enough for a family." his own attempt of a joke didn't come out as one because of the seriousness in his voice. and he almost chuckled at the way you blushed.

he coughed, and then proceeded to lead you to another part of the garden.

arranged husband!geto suguru who's been nothing but an attentive partner as the days gone by. he'd ask you about how your day is after spending time at work, taking you at business events, making sure to spend every dinner with you so you won't feel alone, and walking you to your bedroom since you two slept separately. it was a mutual understanding arrangement, and you made sure you do your part of the deal as well.

arranged husband!geto suguru who said no when you asked him if he's going to work. "it's my day off," he said. you gave a small nod of understanding as you two ate breakfast together, with you feeling a bit awkward at the atmosphere. you were a bit used to him not being at home most days, especially in the morning during your breakfasts.

arranged husband!geto suguru who asked if you'd like to have a picnic with him. and suguru was shocked when you agreed, saying it was your first time having one.

arranged husband!geto suguru who took you somewhere far beyond the woods along your mansion. it was in front of a beautiful pond that you didn't know existed, and you two settled at the blanket he laid out for the two of you. both of you sat in silence, with the picnic basket being in the middle of you two.

arranged husband!geto suguru who asked, "don't you miss being at home?" and you shake your head in response. "why? if it's okay for me to ask..."

"all i did there was read, and taught how to be prim and proper." you shake your head at the memory. "teaching me how to be an obedient lady, so when i get married, I won't disappoint my partner. it was boring."

the silence almost felt suffocating, and you jerked your head at him as you blushed. "im sorry... i think i said too much."

suguru quickly shakes his head. "no, no... i'm thankful that you're honest. and i'm sorry you have to live through that."

"it's fine. i mean, i'm doing good at the job, am i?"

arranged husband!geto suguru who blinked once, or twice, when he heard you say that. and it was slowly processing on his mind, and he didn't want to make you feel like you're just a doll made for a husband. "don't think such thoughts."

you were shocked when he said that, with his cold, baritone voice. "w-what?"

arranged husband!geto suguru who reached his hand to touch your cheeks, slowly surrendering to his feelings. "you're not just a mere wife that i need for appearances in business. although it is a clan's decision for us to be married, i want you... to act like yourself. do whatever you want, and not cage your life in this marriage... you're not just a wife, you're a person too..."

arranged husband!geto suguru who searched your eyes as he said those words. you were speechless, and almost trembling. it was the first time someone said such a thing to you, and you felt your heart almost explode in your chest as suguru leaned in and sealed your lips in a kiss.

arranged husband!geto suguru who invaded your mouth in a passionate kiss, like how he used to dream of. his tongue licking your bottom lip to seek for entrance. but his eyes shot open when you pulled away with a heavy gasped.

arranged husband!geto suguru who became worried he might have crossed the line, but his breath hitched when you spoke, "I'm sorry... it's my first time, I don't know how to kiss..."

he smiled, chuckling as he brought you to his lap, "there's a lot of time for practice." he said before kissing your lips once again.

arranged husband!geto suguru who finally had his tongue in your mouth, dancing with yours in a harmony. his hands roamed around your curves, stopping on your ass and giving it a light squeeze. he almost groaned when you moaned against his mouth at the action.

arranged husband!geto suguru kisses your neck, and then your collarbone, sucking and nibbling gently. "fuck... you taste so good..."

when he pulled away, he looked at your flushed face, feeling a sense of pride in him that he made you feel like this. despite his desires, he didn't want to go too far just yet. he smiled, and gave you a soft peck, "let's head home."

and together, you walked hand in hand as you walked back to your house.

arranged husband!geto suguru who became a little affectionate after that encounter. stealing a kiss from your lips, and even pecking your cheeks when he was about to leave. he'd snuggle his face on your shoulder when you two stand a little too close, and he'd grin when you moan after kissing a sensitive spot on your neck.

"my baby is so responsive..." he'd chuckle, and you'll blush at the endearment.

arranged husband!geto suguru who eyes you worriedly when you become silent after coming home together in a business event. you two walked at the front door, and you never uttered a word as you walked to the stairs.

"baby, what's wrong?" he pulled you by your wrist when you almost reached your bedroom. he cupped your cheeks, forcing you to make eye contact.

"nothing, just tired."

"liar." he frowned. he leaned in, kissing your lips once. and then twice. and thrice. and here comes a fourth one, and another one after another one, until you're struggling to push him away as he kisses you repeatedly. "not stopping until you tell me."

and you surrendered easily. "fine..."

arranged husband!geto suguru felt his heart combust when you told him you've been jealous the whole night as plenty of women were looking at him hungrily. he bit his lips, trying to contain his smile when you said you were taking note of the girls who tried to flirt with him during the business event.

he couldn't even stop himself from smiling even more when you turned furiously at him, "are you making fun of me?"

"no, baby." he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist. "you're just so fucking cute when you're like this." he said as he pushes you through the door of your bedroom, slamming it shut while his lips were locked into yours.

"you're mine." he said against your lips, his hands slowly undressing you until you're fully naked on the bed.

arranged husband!geto suguru admired your body. his hands explored every inch of your skin as if he was trying to memorize it, his eyes were lustful yet filled with affection. you pulled him by his necktie, whining as you say, "kiss me more, please?"

he obliged to your orders as he helped you unbutton his shirt until he was only left with his boxers. his kisses became rough, as if in a hurry to taste you in his mouth once again, as if it was the first time he was kissing you.

arranged husband!geto suguru groaned when he pushed his middle and ring finger on your wet folds, sliding in easily. "you're so wet... all for me..." he breathed against your earlobe, biting and sucking at the skin of your neck.

you moaned softly as he began stretching you out, fingering you slowly at first before gradually increasing his pace. your toes curled at the sensation, and your thigh almost tried to close if only he wasn't holding you still. your breath hitched when you suddenly felt his breath fanning your pussy, you didn't even realized his face was already between your thighs.

arranged husband!geto suguru who ravishes your wet pussy like a starved man. alternating between licking and sucking as his free hand plays with your clit, making sure you feel everything at once.

his fingers thrusts her insides greedily, eager to make her cum on his face as his tongue continued to suck. when she let out a strangled cry, he smirked to himself as he felt her reaching her orgasm, making sure to drink every essence of her.

arranged husband!geto suguru removed his underwear, revealing his long, throbbing cock. it was veiny, and pinkish at the tip as it was spilling pre cum, angrily standing up. he stroke his cock while maintaining eye contact with her, "see this, baby? you did that to me."

"suguru..." you stutter. "that won't fit..."

he chuckled at your blushing face. "i already prepped you enough, baby. it'll fit perfectly."

arranged husband!geto suguru slowly pushes his tip inside your pussy, sliding in slowly as he watches your face contort in both discomfort and pleasure. "you okay, darling?"

you nodded your head, pulling him by the torso so he'd push it in more.

"it'll hurt, but i'll be gentle." he whispered against your ear.

arranged husband!geto suguru hushes you as he slips in his full length. leaving soft kisses on your cheek. "shh, you can take it, baby... i know you can, come on... yeah? see, i'm all in..."

you moaned in discomfort, your virginity tearing away. "sugu..."

"shhh, it's okay... tell me when to move." he said, caressing your tummy.

arranged husband!geto suguru moved slowly when you gave him the green light. his thrusts were gentle, as he promised. making sure you were enjoying this as much as he did.

"fuck! you're so tight. you're sucking me in..." his groans turned you on even more as he thrust into you. "take it all... fuck it..."

"Ohhh... Suguru... faster..."

that's all it took for Suguru to lose all his control as his hips slammed into yours in a merciless pace. he rammed his dick into you harshly, his hands came to grasp your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipple.

Their moans filled the room, together with the slapping of their wet skin. you were almost reaching your high, and you were crying out at the intense pleasure that suguru was giving you.

his cock filled you to the brim as he thrusts his hot seed inside, together with your orgasm. pants heavily as his pace started to slow down, keeping his cock inside you as his head snuggled on your neck.

"suguru..." you moaned softly after your release.

"hmm?" he hummed. "you did so well for me, baby."

arranged husband!geto suguru woke up the next day with you snuggled in his chest. he groaned as he felt your bare legs wrapped around his torso, his cock perfectly placed right between your thighs. he mentally took note not to sleep with you naked, so he wouldn't have a morning wood so early in the morning.

as he shuffles in bed, you woke up yawning, "sugu?"

he stopped moving, gently caressing your hair. "im sorry... did i wake you up?"

you shake your head, wrapping your arms around him to pull him close, your pussy practically pressed on him. you didn't even mind it since you were too sleepy to think.

"fuck, babe... i can't focus if you're like this..." he groaned.

"h-huh?" you whispered, eyes half-closed.

and that's simply how your morning sex started. with him sliding his cock inside you as you moaned, fully awake at the pleasure. when he finally got it out of his system, he carried you to the bathroom to clean you up, but still not wasting the chance to slide himself inside you from the back under the shower.

once you were both cleaned, he helped you dry your hair and put your clothes on, carrying you to the vanity table since you told him your legs hurt. he massage your shoulders as his hand combed your hair. "feel better?"

"a little sore down there."

Suguru smiled to himself.

***

pt. 2, pt. 3

so... uhmm... this is my first fic and im not sure if i did fine. im sorry for the grammatical errors and spellings 😭

#come back for part two #geto suguru #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #husband suguru geto #suguru geto #jujutsu sorcerer #suguru brainrot #i love suguru sm

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whateveriwant · 6 months

Note

Hello, i hope you dont mind if i request agian! Could I get TF141 with an S/O who are just super prone to panic attack?

These are not meant to be taken as mental health advice. I'm just playing around here <3

Soap

The first time it happened, he didn't know what was going on. The sudden heavy breathing, the tremors, the loss of speech; he thought you were dying, honestly

It nearly sent him into a panic as he tried to figure out what he could do to help. Should you stay put or should you be taken to hospital? He just didn't know

However, once it had passed and you were able to better explain the situation, Soap was pulling you into a hug, the biggest breath of relief escaping him knowing you were going to be alright

He wasn't “happy” per se to learn this is something you struggle with regularly, but knowing there's at least something he could do to help in the future put his mind at ease

Nowadays he's got the drill down pat, so when he sees the signs an attack is incoming, he's whisking you to a safe environment where you can attempt to de-stress

Oftentimes it leads to him sitting beside you out on a curb somewhere, his warm hand rubbing soft circles into your back as he comforts you through it

Gaz

From the second he notices you start to pull away from him, Gaz is immediately on top of it, deploying a technique he's quite familiar with

“Tell me five things you can see,” he says, unbothered by having to repeat himself when you don't respond because he did not seriously just ask you that right now

But after enough prompting by him, you shakily list out five items, wet eyes darting around the room as you try to take stock of your surroundings

Once you do as bid, he'll continue, “Now four things you can hear.” And now you're starting to think you see where he's going with this

He'll work his way through all five senses, counting down to one, and once he reaches the final, you find that your pulse has slowed tremendously and your tremor has stopped entirely

Afterwards, you give him a shy thanks, asking how he knew that would work. “Simple,” he tells you. “Used to do it with my sister when we were young. It helped her then, so I thought it might help you now.”

Price

He takes the most heavy handed approach when trying to bring you down from such a rocky high. And while some people might find it smothering, you just see it as grounding

“Hey. Look at me,” his order is firm though his voice remains purposefully gentle. “Don't look anywhere else, just look at me. That's it. Just focus on me.”

If he has to, he'll even push a finger against your chin until you're meeting his eye and holding it, trying to focus on his soothing words instead of the anxious thoughts racing through your head

Slowly and deliberately, he'll breathe in through his nose then out through his mouth, guiding you to follow along with his measured pattern

If that's still not enough, he'll then take your hand beneath his and hold it over his heart, letting its strong, steady rhythm lull you back to a calmer state

“You alright?” he questions once you've settled down again. When you nod and assure him you are, he'll kiss your temple, promising, “I've got you, dear. Always.”

Ghost

When he realized what was happening with you, he quickly jumped into action, but in a way that was completely unexpected

“Remember when you first took me out for sushi and I didn't know wasabi was hot?” he asks you seemingly out of the blue. “Ate a whole spoonful before I realized. Burned like hell going down. But that was nothin’ compared to when it came out again later.”

The memory of that night stirs to life in your mind, and through your rapid breaths and trembling lips, you're able to crack the barest of smiles

He continues, “Or remember when I got sprayed by that skunk in the garden? You made me sleep on the couch for three days. Said I smelled like a garbage bin’s arsehole.”

That memory has you huffing out a short, low chuckle, and though you don't notice it, your pulse begins to hammer a little slower

And so he keeps going, distracting you with funny memories and personal anecdotes until all you're doing is smiling and laughing brightly, totally forgetting what had made you panic in the first place

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b2cute · 5 months

Text

What’s your problem?

rough dom!matt x fem!reader

notes: this is my first smut so please lmk your thoughts!! send any requests ☁️

warnings: obv smut, degrading, pet names, fem receiving, p in v, cover it before you smother it,chocking, slapping, arguing, angst to smut to fluff, i think that’s all

enjoy 😊

word count: 2,460

*y/n’s pov*

*beep beep beep*

the loud sound coming from beside me causes me to jolt up and widen my eyes. i check the time.

3:46 a.m.

i stormed back into matt’s room after an argument we had. nick and i went out for dinner at boa and i came home to a cranky boyfriend that decided to his take anger out on me. instead of fixing the issue, we both agreed to ignore eachother for the rest of the night.

i go on my phone for about 20 minutes before my stomach growled at me. i decided to head over to the kitchen and fix up some cereal.

“look who decided to show their face to world! everyone welcome y/n to earth” matt snarks sitting at the dining table, paralleling the kitchen. i roll my eyes at the comment he made considering chris and nick went to sleepover at madi’s house leaving the house to just us.

“don’t be a brat just because you exhausted yourself in my bedroom.”

again. what is up with these rude comments?

“seriously matthew, can you act normal for 5 fucking seconds? you turned twenty months ago, act like it and quit being immature” i snap. my stomach gurgling louder as i pour cinnamon toast crunch in a bowl. i reach for the milk in the refrigerator and pour it into the bowl as i join matt across the dining room chair he’s sitting in.

silence

i bring my knees up to my chest as i eat the cereal looking up at the light flashing from my hand as i scroll endlessly on my phone. matt continues journaling and i can’t help but notice his veins appearing through his arm as he wrote quickly. his black tank top and gray sweats don’t help my imaginations, but i quickly snap out of them considering he’s being an asshole.

“hmm, so you have an attitude and staring a problem y/n?”

that’s was my final straw. i quickly slam the now empty cereal bowl into the sink and practically sprint upstairs to nicks bedroom and slam the door. i wasn’t going to spend another second with him until he sorted himself out.

i crawled into nicks silk sheets and bring the blanket up to my chest. i stayed in the bedroom with my back turned from the door. i wasn’t crying. i was frustrated. but that’s the thing with matt. he never admits he’s wrong.

*matts pov*

*slam*

she was being such a brat and i don’t even know why. it was like y/n wanted to get me worked up. i had already gotten into a shitty argument with laura and the managing team about the “lack of effort” i put into videos and her attitude made the situation way worse. i gave her a bit of time before i start to head upstairs. i knock on the door, no answer.

i slowly open the door to see y/n on her phone with her airpods in. she glances at me with an expression i cannot read.

did i seriously mess up that bad? i couldn’t have.

“cmon y/n let’s go to my room and sort this out.”

she takes her airpods out and returns them to the case. “okay.” i walk over to the side of the bed and take her forearm as i guide her downstairs, her following my steps. as i open the door to the room she enters, closing the door behind her and locking it.

*y/n’s pov*

we sit on matt’s bed, facing eachother. i could see his angry expression through his face, but he was trying to hide it.

“look y/n i don’t know what’s up with you, but you need to sort it out, okay? i’ve had a bad day already and your nitpicking isn’t making it any better.”

he’s got to be serious.

“my nitpicking?!” i say raising my voice. “from the second i walked into the door you have shown me nothing but disrespect. you’re being ignorant and selfish matt” my eyes burning from the emotions.

“im not the one who locked themselves in my room to avoid the situation now did i, y/n. now you’re going to get rid of that fucking attitude and quit raising your voice or el-“

“or else what?” i snap, raising my voice even higher.

matt lets out a sigh, almost like an “i told you so” breath. “you asked for it.”

before i could process what he meant, his tattooed covered arm reached to my throat and neck, giving it a squeeze. “you want to act like a fucking slut, then you’re going to take me like a fucking slut.” he growls pinning me to the headboard. his eyes were coated black with a small ring of blue. the hunger on his face growing by the second.

*slap*

“answer me slut, how are you going to take it?”

i was so shocked i didn’t know what to say, but i had to admit, i kinda liked it.

another slap.

“like a slut” i whimpered from the stinging on my left cheek.

“good, you’re going to listen to everything i say and don’t even think about cumming with asking me.”

i nod vigorously.

before i can speak, matt’s lip attach to mine quickly. his tounge explores my mouth as he quickly dominates me. he bites on my bottom lip as he slowly moves to my cheek. then my jaw.

soft moans are leaving my mouth as i tug on his brown locks. “fuck matt just like that” i say squeezing my eyes shut. “yea? you like it when i mark you whore?”

i nod quickly. “use your words or i’ll stop” matt growls between kissing my neck. “yes matt i love it”

i was a moaning mess. matt continued to suck, bite, and lick my neck. he left marks that were going to stay for weeks, maybe even longer.

matt quickly disregards his top and not long after comes to rip mine off. “hm, no bra tonight?” matt smirks before taking my right tit to his mouth. he swirls his tounge around and lightly nibbles it while taking the left and pinching my nipple with his long fingers.

“nnngh it feels so good but i need more matt” i whine underneath him. he pauses his movements and look back at me. “such a needy slut y/n” he replies.

before i could say anything else, he pulls me towards him using while hooking his arms underneath my thighs. matt rips my wide legged sweats off leaving me in just my panties. his face was so close to my throbbing pussy that is could feel his warm breaths on my puffy clit.

“you’re soaked y/n” matt growls.

*slap*

his hand slapped my folds. i let out a pornographic moan from the impact. “who does this pussy belong to?” “you matt, all you”

he chuckled through the whimpers i let out and finally takes my panties off. wasting no time, matt comes in contact with my clit and sucks on it so harshly. his hands came up to my tits, pinching and kneading them.

“mm-matt oh MY GOD” i screech. if he kept this up i would orgasm in no time.

matt stops sucking and lets go of my tits only to use one hand to spread my folds out more and the other hand vigorously rubs my clit.

i started to scream. it felt so good. “MATT UMPH SO GOOD” the knot in my stomach begging to release. “please let me cum” i plead getting hungrier by the second.

“go ahead let it out angel” matt says. with that i quickly release all over the sheets, but this doesn’t stop matt from continuing. “too much matt, i can’t tak-“

“whether you like it or not, you’re going to take it slut. you want to keep arguing with me, this is what you get. shouldn’t have got me so worked up y/n” matt argues. i couldn’t say anything as my swollen clit was getting thrown everywhere.

he finally lets go and i quickly close my legs together. my legs were shaking and i had tears rolling down my cheek. suddenly, i feel matt’s arms separate my legs. “did i fucking say i was done?” i nod my head no, slowly but enough to answer his question. “answer my question y/n”

“n-no you did not” i plead, my eyes and face swollen from the tears due to the overstimulation i was receiving. “yea that’s what i thought”

matt sticks his middle and ring finger into my cunt and wastes no time pumping in and out of me. he lowers his head more as he returns to my clit, nibbling and kissing it. “mmph matt” my hands tug at his messy curls. his eye brows were brushed in every direction and his cheeks were painted with a light pink. he continues pumping into me as my back arches. i was on the verge of passing out due to his movements. i felt his fingers curl up and find my sweet spot.

matt continued to hit my g-spot and i felt the familiar knot return. “C-CLOSE” i whisper being worn out. “hold it.” matt snaps. the blue in his eyes completely disappeared. i couldn’t take it anymore, but i didn’t want it to stop.

matt continues to thrust his fingers into my pussy and rub harshly on my clit as i scream. not taking it anymore, i release all over his fingers.

“didn’t i tell you that you couldn’t cum yet?” matt mumbled. “ c-can’t hold any l-longer” i say as my body is worn out. i feel my body go limp as matt removes his fingers out of my pussy. he gets up and shifts so he’s sitting on the bed. i couldn’t open my eyes but i felt his move up again, this time lifting me up. he places me on his desk chair and throws my legs over each arm chair.

“since you can’t follow simple rules like a good girl, you’re going to take it one more time, and if you don’t hold it, well… i can go all fucking night.” matt snarks. i quickly shoot my eyes open in fear. the thought of going all night sounded intriguing, but i couldn’t even handle two orgasms.

i nod slowly at matt’s remarks and feel his swollen lips come in contact with my neck. his kisses were soft, but passionate. i moan softly at the sudden sensation and my hands reach for his hair one more time. matt begins to slide is gray sweatpants off along with his dark blue boxers. his dick is swollen and his tip was a harsh pink shade, leaking with precum.

with one quick touch, matt slips right into me, considering how wet i was. without letting me adjust matt begins to pound into me. one of his hands crept to my throat giving it a light squeeze while the other hand went to my clit once again rubbing and pinching harshly. “AH i’m t-too sensitive!” i scream my hand quickly trailing to matt’s wrist in attempt to move it away from my lower half. i quickly regret the action when matt’s hand squeezes my throat tighter.

“don’t even think about doing that again” matt says as he continues to push in and out of me. “s-sorry i just can’t take a-anymore” i cry. my face was red and the tears were everywhere. “yes you can. you will.” matt says. after a couple minutes of matt’s actions he lets out a groan. “fuck y/n, i’m close” matt says. both his hands come on either side of the desk chair as he pounds into me. the brown haired boys eyes were screwed shut and his eyebrows furrowed. “m-me too” i manage to say using every last bit of energy in me. “can i please cum matt?” i beg. i’ve been holding it since he began thrusting into me. “do you think you deserve it” matt mumbles. i nod my head quickly before he says “go ahead, cum you whore.”

without waiting any further, i release for the third time that night. matt rails me through my high before he finally reaches his climax. he releases long white strings into my as he removes his cock from inside of me.

finally catching my breath, i feel matt’s present leave the room before he comes back in.

*matts pov*

i return to the room with a towel and water for y/n. she was collapsed on the chair, her legs still spread as both our cums we’re seeping out of her. i walk over and clean her up gently. she winces at the touch and grabs my biceps for support. i smirk at her struggle to open her eyes. i smirk at her struggle to open her eyes. she mumbles something but it was almost inaudible. “speak up baby” i say as i begin to change the sheets. “can’t move” is all y/n can get out of her soft lips.

i quickly finish putting the new sheets on and throw the old ones in the wash. i walk over to my drawer and take out a pair of my boxers and a ransom t-shirt for y/n. picking her up gently, i place her on the bed and lift her legs up to skips the boxers on. i lift her back up and her head quickly fad on my chest and i attempt to put the t-shirt over her head. after i dress her up i walk over and change into a new pair of boxer and blue plaid pajama pants. i grab my hair brush and walk over to y/n.

“you’re hairs a mess baby let me brush it” i chuckle. y/n lets out a soft hum as i brush her beautiful hair . once im finished, i put the hairbrush on the nightstand and lift the covers as i pick y/n up and slips her underneath them. i plant a kiss on her forehead before walking onto the other side of the bed and getting in.

after a moment of silence y/n mumbles “does this mean your not mad at me anymore?” i let out a laugh before replying to her. “of course i’m not mad at you baby i couldn’t even if i tried.” with that, i grab y/n and she throws her legs and arms over me. her head was snuggled in the crook of my neck and i leaned my face at the top of her head as i plant a kiss there.

“my sweet girl, get some rest my love”

taglist: (comment here to be on it)

@mattsleftnipple03 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @mangoposts @guccifrog @lovingmattysposts @sturnioloenthusiast @lolasturniolo @sophssturn @sstvrnioloo @n00dl3zzz

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srvbryn · 4 months

Text

Luke Castellan. hands

Luke Castellan X Ares!daughter!reader

Summary: you've always like Luke Castellan, but his hands - gods. You love his hands the most

Warning: hands fetish, some suggestive jokes

A/n: I got inspo by this one Sebastian Sallow fic but made it PG-13 😰😰

By some miracle, Luke hadn’t noticed your unwavering eye contact with his hands yet.

The two of you had been kept preoccupied with taking care of the cabin and as a result, your only opportunities to spend time with him had been during sparring time.

Clarisse, one of your half siblings, was having none of it—clearly smarter than you gave her credit for. "You're always checking out Castellan, but it's gotten worse since we returned. Did he grow a second cock or something?"

"Clarisse! You can't just say that about him', you hissed, your face flushed beetroot red, another indication that you're staring at him, specifically his hands.

"well what got your knickers twisted since the past few days sister?" She snickered. You sighed. "Have you ever found other body parts attractive? Like-"

Clarisse gasps, "Are you attracted to his feet? You are telling me you were horny because of his feet?"

You abruptly denied her, flustered. "w-what? No, I'm talking about his veiny hands."

You nervously explained to Clarisse, "It's not his feet, it's his veiny hands. There's just something about them."

She raised an eyebrow, "Veiny hands? That's your thing?"

You nodded, feeling awkward but determined. "Yeah, they're... attractive."

Clarisse smirked, "Well, good luck with your hand fetish. Just make sure you don't drool in public."

As you continued your routine at the Ares cabin, you found yourself stealing glances at Luke's hands whenever you could. One evening, while sparring, he noticed your prolonged stares.

Luke chuckled, "What's got you so interested in my hands, (Name)?"

You blushed, stumbling over your words, "I, uh, just... noticed they're, um, nice. I mean, good for sparring."

He raised an eyebrow, smirking, "Oh, you like a guy with skilled hands, huh?"

And since that day, it became a running joke among your half siblings. Luke even started teasing you about his "magic hands." Despite the embarrassment, you found yourself enjoying the exchanges.

One day, as you and Luke were alone in the cabin, he looked at you curiously. "Seriously, what's the deal with my hands?"

You took a deep breath, confessing, "I just find them... attractive. It's weird, I know."

Unexpectedly, Luke grinned, "Well, (Name), I never thought I'd have someone crushing on my hands, but I'm flattered."

Your cheeks burned, but you both laughed it off. Your crush on Luke's hands had become a well-known joke.

During a particularly heated sparring session, Luke couldn't help but notice your lingering gazes at his hands.

With a sly grin, he remarked, "Enjoying the view, (Name)? My hands are pretty skilled, aren't they?"

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of embarrassment. "I...uh, they're just, you know, interesting to watch during training."

Luke chuckled, "Interesting, huh? Well, if you're into skilled hands, maybe you'd like a closer look."

Your heart raced as he extended his hand, teasingly offering it to you. Clarisse, shouted from the sidelines, "Go on, (Name), give those magical hands a touch!"

Blushing furiously, you hesitated for a moment before tentatively taking his hand. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and Luke's playful expression turned into a more knowing smirk.

Luke would purposely use his hands more during training, making sure you had a front-row seat to the display. The other campers caught on, and your crush became the subject of good-natured teasing.

You and Luke sat by the lake, he leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know, (Name), there are other ways to appreciate skilled hands."

You shot him a questioning look. Luke's fingers traced patterns on your palm, sending a delightful shiver through you. "Just a thought," he whispered, his voice low and suggestive.

From that point on, your interactions with Luke took on a subtly flirtatious undertone. Whether it was a lingering touch during training or a shared secret glance.

The chemistry between you two intensified. Clarisse, sensing the change, simply rolled her eyes, muttering, "Finally catching on, huh?"

The flirtatious tension between you and Luke continued to escalate, turning each training session into a delicate dance of suggestive glances and teasing touches.

Clarisse and Annabeth (for some reason the both of them work together to tease you and Luke everyday), who had initially been the instigator of the whole affair, now simply smirked knowingly as the two of you exchanged moments.

Luke were sparring under the shade of the trees, he shot you a wicked grin. "You know, (Name), my hands aren't just good for holding weapons. They have other talents too."

You raised an eyebrow, playing along, "Oh really? And what talents might those be?"

He leaned in, the playful glint in his eyes never fading. "Oh, they're full of surprises. Want me to show you?"

Clarisse, observing from a distance, couldn't resist shouting, "Careful, (Name), you might not be able to handle the Castellan hand magic!"

That night, as you found yourselves alone in the Ares cabin, Luke leaned against the wall, his eyes locking onto yours. "So, (Name), any specific requests for my hands tonight?"

You pretended to think for a moment, then with a mischievous glint, replied, "Maybe a demonstration of their massage skills?"

He stepped closer, his proximity sending a thrill through you. "Well, if you insist."

#luke pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy spoilers #charlie bushnell #pjo spoilers #pjo tv show #pjo series #percy jackson and the olympians #percy series #pjo #clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue #annabeth chase #annabeth pjo

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natalievoncatte · 3 months

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Lena didn’t have time for traffic. She looked up from her phone and glared at the back of her driver’s head.

“Frank, why is it taking so long?”

“I’m not Frank, Ma’am. He called out this morning.”

Lena sighed. “And your name?”

“Vincent, ma’am.”

“Vincent, why is this taking so long?”

He signed. “Traffic, ma’am. Sounds like there’s a few blocks downtown closed. Supergirl is fighting some monster or alien or something.”

Lena stopped herself from smiling softly. “Ah, well then. Anyway, might as well see if you can find us a way around. I just don’t like to stand still.”

The driver nodded.

“What do you think about Supergirl, ma’am?”

Lena sighed. “Forgive me, Vincent, but I do have some work to concentrate on, here. I’m not usually one for chitchat. I hope you don’t mind.”

She sank back into her seat and flicked to the next email. There were a lot of fires to put out. Upcoming product launches, grant applications, university partnerships, charity events, plus her own work. She was becoming so strained lately that she was seriously considering stepping down from the direct CEO role so she could spend more time in the lab, where her real passion was.

Sometimes she almost sympathized with Lex; the life of a CEO could easily drive someone insane. Lena would rather spend her days in a labcoat or doing charity work than listening to another entitled silver spoon-

“You’re going the wrong way,” Lena said, sharply.

“I’m finding a way around,” said the driver. “You know, you never answered my question, before. What do you think of Supergirl?”

Lena stuffed her phone in her pocket and thrust her hand in her jacket, freeing the concealed revolver she carried in a shoulder holster under her left arm. The partition was already going up, sealing her in.

“What are you doing?”

“Answer my question,” the driver said, through a speaker.

Lena swallowed hard. “I think she’s a hero but I don’t fully trust her. I work with her when I feel it will help people. That’s all.”

“That’s not what your mother thinks.”

“Isn’t it?” said Lena. “What does she think?”

“Are you fucking her?”

Lena barked out a laugh. “Are you serious? That’s her question?”

“Are you fucking her like you debased yourself with that little tart in boarding school?”

There was silent beat.

“She told me to say that. She made me practice saying ‘tart’.”

He sounded almost bored.

“Fuck you,” Lena snapped. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it.”

“Nothing personal,” said the driver.

Lena sighed, almost annoyed at the hiss as a thin, chemical smelling gas hissed into the car, rising around her. She forced herself to stay calm, stoic, even her pulse raced.

“I’m not afraid of you, or her,” said Lena.

She coughed twice as the world irises shut around her, dragging her down into a cold, dreamless sleep.

When she snapped awake, she was alone. The partition was open, but the gun was gone from her holster. She felt around for it, then decided to clamber into the front seat, rolling over the seats facing her. The driver was gone, of course. Heavy chains were padlocked around the car, pinning the front doors shut.

There was a tape recorder sitting on the front seat. Lena ignored it as she looked around. The car was surrounded by metal walls, and a creep sense of dread rose up Lena’s spine. She fought the panic down, dropping into the driver’s seat.

Placing the tape deck on the dash, she pushed the okay button.

“Hello, Lena,” Lilian said, in her smooth, posh tones. Lena could hear that smarmy smirk forming around her words.

“You’re probably expecting an ultimatum or an offer. There will be none. I’m through trying to bring my husband’s wayward bastard back into the fold. When you betrayed Lex again, you burned your last chance. It’s time to take out the trash, Lena. I wish I could have throttled you in the cradle, but I didn’t know about you and your mother until it was too late. It’s time to correct that. It’s too bad we won’t be there to watch.”

Watch what?

Lena sat and waited. Whoever was sent to murder her had no sense of dramatic timing. She began rifling through the car, trying to take stock of what she had, what she could use to effect an escape. Breaking the-

A sharp shriek of metal cut through her thoughts. The side walls inched forward with a screech of metal, and Lena froze, terror piercing through her like an icy spike.

Oh.

Oh God.

The walls moved slightly more, and the rear view mirrors on both sides of the car exploded. The mechanism pushing the walls strained and groaned, and that was the only mercy she had.

She was in a car crusher. In the car.

The armored structure of her town car was too heavy for the machine to simply crush, but she had minutes at most. Metal groaned in protest, shrieking around her, and the glass quivered in the doors.

Oh God. Oh God.

She wasn’t going to panic. She wasn’t going to panic. She ripped open every single compartment and cubby she could find, but found only monogrammed glassware and a bottle of champagne. There was nothing.

A random, forgotten Lexosuit would be really useful right about now.

With a sudden shriek, the car began to collapse. The bulletproof glass buckled and shattered, pelting the front seat as she rolled into the back, and the doors buckled in, tearing loose from their hinges as the floor and roof began to fold.

A sudden, ringing, frankly stupid thought came into her head, but it was her best play.

Lena Luthor filled her lungs. She took in the biggest, deepest breath of her life, a breath worthy of a championship deep diver, and screamed at the top of her lungs, until it hurt.

“SUPERGIRL!”

She had to scramble into the back seat as the engine began pushing through the dashboard, ripping apart plastic and leather, splintering buried wood. Lena ducked as the roof crumpled and dove in, like the roof of a dragon’s mouth crushing down to pulp her. She closed her eyes and curled in on herself, hoping it would at least be over fast.

A single ringing thought bit through the fear.

Oh God. Kara’s waiting for me at the restaurant.

Around her metal shrieked, and she heard the vast clang of rending machinery. The inexorable crushing stopped, the bucking limousine going still. Lena opened her eyes, peering through her fingers like a terrified child, and watched in awe as one of the crushed plates tore loose from its moorings and went flying off into the afternoon air.

Hands, strangely delicate, punched through armor plating as if it were cobwebs and ripped the broken shell of Lena’s limo apart, spreading it in every direction.

Lena had never seen Supergirl so panicked. Her eyes were too wide with abject terror, and she seized Lena in her arms, winding her cape around her, and rocketed loose from the car.

Lena’s words were lost to the wind. Supergirl was blasting into the air, flying incredibly fast- too fast. Helpless, she clung to the hero for dear life, feeling woozy as the blood drained from her skull.

She thought, oh, come on, as she passed out again.

When her eyes drifted open, Lena was lying on the ground. Groaning, she sat up slowly, feeling every movement, and realized she’d been lying on a spread red blanket with her suit jacket piled up under her head for a pillow, and she was in the woods. The sun had yielded to the sky, and someone had started a roaring fire a few feet away.

Grateful for the warmth, Lena edged closer. As she did, she realized that she was sitting not on a blanket but on Supergirl’s cape.

Blinking, she looked around.

Supergirl had her back to a tree, curled up on herself with her head hanging between her knees, arms wrapped around to cover her face, and she was sobbing quietly. Lena stared, open-mouthed.

“Supergirl?” she breathed.

Supergirl didn’t respond. Lena rose to her feet, wobbling, and discarded her heels before walking across a bed of soft leaves. She crouched in front of the weeping Kryptonian, stunned when the other woman flinched.

“Supergirl?”

“Lena?”

Her voice was small and soft, all the bravado and righteous authority gone. She sounded strangely human.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“I think I am,” said Lena. “What about you? Are you hurt?”

“No,” she sniffed. “A Tauraxian hit me in the head with a greyhound bus. Tuesday afternoon at the office.”

Lena laughed softly, and sat down. “I’m sure. What just happened?”

Supergirl swallowed hard as she looked up. “I panicked. I saw what was happening and I lost control. I’m lucky I didn’t hurt you.”

Lena put a tentative hand in on her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“More than you realize,” Supergirl sighed.

“I’m here,” said Lena.

She sat down. Supergirl looked away from her, staring I to the fire a few feet away. In starlight, with the firelight caressing her delicate features and sparkling in her blue eyes, it was impossible to miss how hauntingly beautiful she was… and how haunted herself. Supergirl looked older than her years, a deep sorrow in her eyes that Lena had never seen before.

“I’m claustrophobic,” Supergirl explained. “Not the kind of thing that you advertise.”

“We all have our fears. I have some of my own.”

Lena pushed down thoughts of a pale hand sliding beneath churning black water and shuddered.

With teary eyes, Supergirl looked at her.

“I can’t. I can’t have fears. I’m Supergirl. I have to be perfect, set an example, all that crap. I’m the perfect woman who came from the sky to do only good.”

The perfect woman, Lena thought, consuming the firelit beauty before her. No one would debate that.

Well, Lena would, maybe. There was someone more perfect, someone soft and kind with a devastating smile and laughing eyes tinged with strange sorrow. She hoped Kara wasn’t worrying about her.

It was funny how Lena always thought of Kara when Supergirl was around. Guilt, maybe. Foolish guilt; Kara was a far shore that Lena would never reach, even if she’d gladly sink in the attempt.

“Before I came to Earth, I drifted in the phantom zone in my pod. There were things outside. The pod was the size of a coffin, a tiny space to spend all that time. The phantoms would claw and slash at the canopy and the walls. I was awake for days hearing them trying to get in. Sometimes there were bigger things out there, wrapping arms around it and trying to crush their way in.”

Lena nodded. “That sounds beyond terrible. It’s okay for you to be scared after that.”

Supergirl nodded. “I can barely handle elevators sometimes.”

A jolt went through Lena, something familiar, like a word on the tip of her brain.

“I get scared when other people are enclosed, too,” said Supergirl. “When I saw something trying to crush you, I just lost it. It’s different when it’s you.”

Lena swallowed hard, trying to suppress the shiver that coursed through her body and made the small hairs on her arms stand on end.

“Back in high school, the other girls used to bully me,” said Supergirl. Once, they locked me in a closet in the locker room. I screamed and screamed until until someone let me out. Alex was furious, she…”

Supergirl went quiet, trailing off. Her eyes went wide and she jolted back.

Lena sat there for a second, unsure why…

Wait.

Alex?

High school? Supergirl went to high school?

With Alex? Alex Danvers?

Lena choked down a gasp, the wheels whirling in her head. She looked over and met Supergirl’s eyes, studying them. Her. The way the light played across her soft features, her honey hair, the little scar above her eye.

“Hi, Lena.”

“Hi, Kara,” Lena whispered.

Neither of them moved. Lena wondered briefly if Kara had ever planned to tell her, how she might have planned it. Probably not like this. Her throat bobbed.

Lena shifted closer, until they were hip to hip in a seated hug, Kara crying softly on Lena’s shoulder, powerful arms wrapped around her.

“I was scared,” said Lena. “I was afraid I was going to die and you’d be sitting at the table at the restaurant waiting for me.”

“Never,” said Kara. “I’ll always protect you.”

“And I’ll always protect you. Nobody is ever going to shove my Kara in a closet ever again.”

Kara let out a little gasp.

“Can we stay here for a while? Talk? Just you and me?”

Kara nodded. She stood and gathered up her cape as Lena moved close to the fire, and sat down, wrapping it around them both. Lena let her head fall on Kara’s shoulder.

“This makes a nice blanket.”

“It is a blanket. My cousin was swaddled in it when he came to Earth. Don’t worry, I washed it.”

Lena laughed softly, awkwardly trying to decide where to put her hands. She settled on being bold, and put her arm around Kara’s waist. Kara slipped her arms around her shoulder and pulled her in, and Lena hugged her back, tucking herself into Kara’s shoulder.

They sat for a while as the fire burned down low. It was full dark and the fire was nothing but coals.

“I was going to tell you. I wanted to.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Okay,” Kara sighed.

Lena swallowed hard, trying not to feel her blood rushing in her ears.

“You know,” she said. “You could kiss me right now, if you wanted. That seems like the kind of thing the hero does after saving the girl.”

“I could?” said Kara.

“You could.”

“Like this?”

Kara was trying to be smooth, and it made it hard for Lena not to giggle. She tipped Lena’s chin up with soft fingers and guided herself in, bringing their lips together. Kara kissed her softly, tentatively. Lena kissed her back just as softly, afraid this moment would shatter if she pressed too hard.

It was easy to shift herself into Kara’s lap, even before Kara lifted her there. Lena knew she was strong but not Kryptonian strong, and it it sent a thrill through her. She liked it.

She liked touching Kara, too. Liked feeling the bunching muscles flex under under hands, the softness of her hair, the way she gasped when she felt Lena’s lips on her throat.

“Never have I wished so badly for a tent and sleeping bags,” said Lena.

“And marshmallows to toast!” said Kara.

“Do you ever stop thinking about food?” Lena giggled.

Kara looked at her intently, and Lena shivered, not from the cold. She’d longed for Kara to see her like that, look at her like that.

“Sometimes,” Kara whispered. “Sometimes I think about other things.”

“We should probably go back,” said Lena. “We have people who are probably looking for us.”

Kara nodded.

“Do you want this to be… do you want us to be?”

“Kara,” said Lena, “I would have asked you out a year ago if I thought I had a chance. I thought you just wanted to be friends.”

Kara swallowed. “Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend?”

Lena smiled softly. “Yes.”

Kara rose and clasped her cape to her shoulders, then gently brought Lena to her feet and lifted her from the ground, holding her close.

“Not so fast this time, okay?”

“Okay,” said Kara, lifting them back into the sky.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #campfire confession #accidental identity reveal #softcorp

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yeostars · 15 days

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When ATEEZ members get jealous as ur bfs, reaction post !

Hongjoong:

• tbh, he gets jealous quite often, even at the smallest stuff but most of the time he manages to conceal it well.

• He's immediately besides you and whoever that guy is that you're enjoying talking to so much, my man would literally burn holes with his eyes whenever he's jealous. seriously, he gives such an intense stare to the person he perceives as a threat, although he trusts you a lot, he tends to get a little too protective of you...... cuz he loves you so much, ofcourse. He clings his arm with yours, sending a signal that you're ready to go.

•"Who even was that?" He asks, annoyance oozing in this voice as you turn back to him. Or "I didn't know you were that close...." would be his classic statement whenever a guy he doesn't know seems to get a little too close to you.

Seonghwa:

• Seonghwa tends to get a lot more clingy than usual whenever he's jealous. Not just clingy, but he'll purposely call you as "honey" "sweetheart" "babe" repeatedly in front of whoever made him jealous and protective of you in the first place.

• Something like "babe, we're getting late, let's go." he says, while entering the scene, emphasizing on the word babe a lil too much.

• As he says this, he'll eye up the guy in front of you up and down, almost in a judging manner, and effortlessly snakes an arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him, as if sending him a signal that you're his and his only. After you're done conversing with that guy, he'll literally jump on you, asking "what did he say to you?" demanding all details of your convo with him.

Yunho

• Another one who gets jealous more often than he wants to. If y'all remember, yunho himself admitted once that he "gets jealous too much/often" soo it's safe to say that he would be quite possessive of his s/o.

• When he notices that you're taking too much time conversing with whoever is your "new company", he crosses his arms, sighing as he watches you both, and matches towards your direction with a blank expression and sour smile (which looks kinda scary tbh)

• And then, voilà, you're getting dragged impossibly closer to him by the waist. His arm slides under your waist sideways, his grip firm and tight and that has goosebumps forming all over your skin. He doesn't even make eye contact with the guy in front of you, practically avoids him and once you're both alone, he says "do you talk to him often?" sensing that you do and he hates even the thought of you being close to him.

Yeosang

• Yeosang isn't really the jealous type. That's just how he is, and even if the slightest pang of jealousy hits him he conceals it so well that you've never seen his possessive side before.

• One day, you literally asked him out of the blue "you've never gotten jealous before, seeing me with some other guy, have you?" and yeosang laughs, literally LAUGHS because that was so random. but you sounded serious so he had to stop laughing and give you a reply. "what, you want me to get jealous? possessive? wouldn't that be annoying though?" he replied, staring at you. "why would it be? it shows how much you want me. i would actually love it if you act a bit possessive of me sometimes." you say, pouting, and yeosang just kisses your cheek, saying "alright, I'll try."

• And when the day comes when you ACTUALLY witness him being jealous for once, you're satisfied with his reaction. Yeosang noticed that you were gone away for quite a long time and went looking for you, only to find you talking to a guy he didn't know and you seeming to enjoy talking with him. Interwining his fingers with yours in a heartbeat, he asks "Hope I'm not interrupting? Y/n, love, let's go now, it's getting late." And when you're both alone, you pull his cheeks playfully, praising him and begging him to act more jealous like this cuz that's HOT of him (did I lie)

San

• He's literally both cute and scary when he actually gets jealous. He tries his best to not get jealous of the smallest stuff but sometimes he cannot hide his jealousy.

• He's the type to become restless when you aren't around. Literally staring at you both while sending death glares to the guy in front of you, his feet tapping impossibly faster on the floor.

• When he decides that it's his last straw when he notices the guy trying to get closer to you, he's there besides you in no time, smiling sweetly at you, not even acknowledging that guy. Placing a soft, quick kiss on your cheek, he brings your hand to his, suggesting you to check out those other food stalls with him.

Mingi

• He's DRAMATIC when he's jealous. When the princess itself gets jealous? It's over for you. You have to give him hundred times more kisses, cuddle him the entire night and hold his hand till eternity, all until he feels better ;D

• He'll barge in when you and the unknown guy are having a convo, introducing himself as your boyfriend. He'll literally tug on your arm sleeves, a small cute pout forming on his face and he stays like that until you exchange your goodbyes with that guy, finally alone with him.

• Rarely, he gives you silent treatment when he gets jealous. And you're always able to tell that he's jealous from the way he gets too quite rather than being talkative as usual. He denies it when you ask him about it, but immediately dissolves into a fit of giggles and a precious smile when you kiss him firmly on the lips and murmur I love you all over again. Really, that's all it takes for mingi to feel assured and happy.

Wooyoung

• 100 % scary when he's jealous. A little dramatic, might I add. He gets jealous quite often and doesn't shy away from showing that he's possessive of you.

• His last straw would be when you're flashing your incredible eye smile to that guy in front of you while talking to him, a smile that's reserved for wooyoung only. He appears being you in no time, back hugging you and wraps his arms around your waist tightly, placing his chin on your shoulder, sending death glares to the guy in front of you, not letting go of you unless that guy finally decides to leave.

• "What was so funny that you were laughing at literally every word he said?" Wooyoung asked, bitterly, lowering his eyes. "Don't worry, babe, he wasn't as funny as you. No one makes me laugh like you do, that was just a....fake laugh." You assured him, pulling his cheek playfully. He shrugs if off and makes sure to cling to you like a koala the entire day.

Jongho

• Something tells me that jongho hates admitting that he's feeling jealous. He does get jealous sometimes but it's mostly when something he senses someone else getting physically closer to you. He usually doesn't have a problem when you're just having a conversation with someone.

• So, when someone does try to get physically closer to you, he's there besides you immediately, snaking an arm around your shoulder. otherwise, he doesn't approach the person you're talking to since he doesn't want to come off as clingy to you.

• "I don't get a good vibe from him. He was trying to get close to you all the time." He admits, not out of jealousy, rather protectiveness. "If he was, i wouldn't let him. Don't worry babe, he was just an acquaintance." You assure him, kissing him lightly on the lips, causing jongho's cheeks to heat up as he hums, satisfied.

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