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revealed-in-a-delusion · 23 hours

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One of Us

Part Two

Part one Synopsis: when you were saved from a curse a few years ago, you spent a night with your hero and ended up having your baby son, Yasu. You knew the day would come, but when your son fought a curse that had almost killed you all by himself, you kind of had to face the consequences of your prolonged silnce. One of the consequences happened to be Satoru 'I Had No Clue I Had A Son' Gojo. Tags: Satoru Gojo x f!reader, reader is a mom of Gojo's son, Yasu is a little meanie sometimes, Yasu being mama's boy all the way, still possible angst, mentions of violence, foul language here and there. Notes: guys is it obvious I started writing this because I created Yasu in my head and decided to give him a tumblr community as moms? because I did 🫵🏻😔 also this part has Yasu’s pov in it but it’s just 60% ‘I love my mama’ and 40% yapping ‘cause he takes a lot from the father he doesn’t even know yet

It’s not that he didn’t like unfamiliar places, no, he enjoyed going on little adventures, visiting cities and even countries a couple of times — he loved that one time you took him to Disneyland on his fifth birthday so much he still had all these Elsa (“we look alike”) and Mulan (“she’s a badass like you, ma”; “Yasu!”) merch all over his room.

It’s just this time it was all new, and you were not here with him.

He tapped his shoes in the air as he was sitting on top of the neatly made hospital bed; he didn’t really need any check-ups. Besides the first one they gave him when he was just spotted, covered in dirt, blood and sweat.

…okay, well, maybe he needed help with a little bruise covered with, uh, eyes, but it went away by itself really, and he wanted to finally see his mom, not spend time with doctors and weird teens hanging around like he was some ugly thing himself. He just killed one, wasn’t it enough proof he didn’t need any more grownups’ assistance?

A knock on the door distracted him from rush of rather angry kid’s thoughts. He looked up and saw a young woman slowly coming inside, giving him some time and space to brace himself, but no real option to reject her company. She looked tired, strict and friendly at the same time, and the boy frowned, straightening up. He was afraid of no strict doctor ladies.

“How are you feeling, [Last Name]?” she put a notebook on the light-grey nightstand along with some clipboard. The papers on it seemed important, but adults made all the papers seem important. It could be a lie today, but the woman didn’t look like she would carry around anything useless.

“I’m fine, so can I finally go to my mom?” oh, he was definitely not going to hide his frustration. He was not going to hide his stare either. “If I’m alright and you’re a doctor, shouldn’t you be with my mom? She needs help while you just waste your precious ‘doctor time’ here when I’m obviously good on my own.”

“Says the boy calling for his mom as soon as someone walks in,” since he was trying to act like an adult, neither the woman was going to baby him. She didn’t smirk, but her dark brown eyes certainly did.

He frowned and averted his gaze, now blankly staring at his shoes, still tapping them with the melody only he was familiar with.

She sighed condescendingly and walked towards the bed, surprising him with how naturally she squatted right in front, now looking up.

“My name is Shoko Ieiri,” her appearance was making her look tough, but she grabbed the end of his shoe with such gentleness, such unexpected softness and care — it made him ease his frown. “You can call me Shoko.”

“Why would I do that?” he immediately argued. Sparks of humorous laughter in her eyes became clearer as she noticed he couldn’t help it. His words preceded his thoughts, powered by the way he felt was right. “You’re like five times my age.”

“Oh, gimme a break, boy. I’m not that old,” she shook her head, huffing, and stood up, turning back to the nightstand with all her papers on it.

He looked at her for a moment, considering.

“Yasu,” he almost whispered, but as she turned around, he straightened his shoulders yet again, repeating it louder even though he didn’t need to. “My name is Yasu [Last Name]. And you can call me Yasu, too.”

“Okay, Yasu,” she finally smiled with her lips, not only eyes this time, taking clipboard in one hand and a neat pen in the other. “Glad to make your acquaintance.”

He looked at her carefully, fully taking in her appearance. She felt like a few couple of eyes were watching her at the same time.

Very familiar feeling.

“Mm,” he finally shrugged. “Me too, I guess. And you don’t look like a paediatrician,” he struggled a bit with the big word, but they both pretended it didn’t happen.

“That’s because I’m not one,” Shoko stated simply. “I’m here with you not because you’re a kid, Yasu. I’m quite a special doctor.”

“How modest,” he smirked.

Yeah, Shoko thought, as expected. Never easy with these ones.

“So, Yasu, have you ever seen curses before?” as much as she weirdly enjoyed this kid’s company, she'd got work to be done, so she went straight for it.

“Curses?” He raised an eyebrow, frowning again. He was doing it a lot for his age. “What’s that?” She almost went to write it down on the paper, but eventually he wasn’t done talking. “I only see the ugly things, they are around all the time. They don’t ever touch me or my mom. Well, they didn’t, yesterday was different. It was the ugliest one so far.”

“The ugly things,” Shoko said slowly, “do you see them all the time?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Yasu shrugged like it wasn’t really a big deal. It was though, and since you were not there, he let it slide off his tongue. “Recently they… I was noticing them all over the world, but they started hanging out closer to our house a lot.”

“There were more of them near your home?” Shoko subtly wrote something down.

“Don’t tell mama,” he suddenly blurted out, cautious of Shoko all over again. “She doesn’t need to know.”

“Why? Feeling guilty?” she smirked with her eyes again, and Yasu couldn’t help but notice how good she was expressing her thoughts with just her eyes. Cool.

“Don’t want her to worry. She already worries a lot because of me,” before Shoko even had a chance to ask him to elaborate, he did it himself. “I also scare off her dates.”

Shoko tried really hard not to chuckle loudly. Luckily, she succeeded. “Oh? You scare off other men? Geez, maybe I need a son after all.”

Yasu didn’t get the implied joke, awkwardly rubbing his neck. “Not on purpose. Well, most of the times— anyways, they just often think I’m spooky.”

For some reason, this time Shoko didn’t ask him to specify. Yasu watched her writing quietly, now growing more curious about her. She’s cool, he thought. Not as cool as mama, though.

“Tell me about your family, Yasu. Anything you’d like to share,” she finally spoke again, looking up and tapping her pen on the clipboard.

And she didn’t need to ask twice for this one.

“Oh, my mom is the best. She’s my closest friend, and she’s lovely, and funny, and she’s the prettiest, and I love when I make her smile — and she smiles to me a lot,” it sounded almost like he was bragging. He probably was. “She works a lot, partly because I like sweets and she can never say ‘no’ to me, but once I’m old enough I’ll be the one making all the money for her. Oh, don’t tell her I know she can’t say ‘no’. Although she’s very smart and already knows that, I think? Anyways— when she doesn’t work, because her boss is actually a nice man and gives her days off from time to time, she spends her time with me and we do something fun. Or homework, but that’s not as fun. Not the hardest part though, school is the easy stuff.”

Shoko did not try to stop him, nor did she listen very attentively — she was grasping everything between the lines, in the tones and his big blue eyes. Yes, a spitting image, but his hair are fluffier, and his cheeks are pinker; maybe because he’s yet to be tired. Maybe because she saw you and knew exactly where it all came from.

“Mm,” she nodded. “And your dad?”

“I don’t have one,” he quickly responded. Then added as momentarily. “Technically I do, of course, I kinda know how it works,” oh, he’s definitely proud of how smart he was. “But he’s not around, it’s just my mom and me. I don’t hate him ‘cause my mom told me he doesn’t know and he’s very busy, but my mom is busy too and she knows, right? Also, how can you not know? Don’t you need to love each other to have a kid?”

“Not necessarily,” Shoko hummed, suddenly deep in thought.

“If he doesn’t love my mom, he’s stupid,” Yasu concluded. “Knew I got my smarts all from my mama.”

“Now that’s a possibility.”

He gave you time. You needed a few moments before you could finally sit up, a few more to carefully drink a glass he poured for you — not really in consideration, it would be just odd for him to watch you silently while you struggled to hold yourself together, let alone pick up a whole jug of water.

You felt better now and was almost ready to talk, as much as someone could be ready considering the circumstances. But your mouth was no longer dry, your head stopped spinning (if you stayed still, but hey, it was something) and you didn’t want to puke each time you tried to blink. You still felt like the boiling water tank was aptly thrown in your direction. The arm that was chewed on by the curse was still burning, although not as much, and covered in bandages.

“So, what’s your name again?” you both said in unison.

The room went silent for a really long moment, where you both just stared at each other. As much as a blindfolded person could stare back, but the feeling of being watched never left you in his presence. You were sure he could see you better than you could see him, somehow.

Then you chuckled, shaking your head, and he put his hands to his chest in pretend offence. “You cannot be for real right now,” he gasped, “I just mentioned my last name!”

“Bold of you to assume I was listening,” you chuckled again, making yourself comfortable in half-sitting position. The pillow was nice. “I was kind of trying not to show the world the void of my outwardly turned stomach.”

“It hurts my heart when I encounter the need to introduce myself,” he sighed dramatically, then finally plopped on the chair next to your bed.

“Heart? Is that what sorcerers call their ego nowadays?” you curiously followed his chaotic movements. Now that you were feeling better, you were more open to whatever conversation you two could have. “I’m [Name] [Last Name]. Sorry I don’t remember yours, it was a long time ago.”

“It was,” he nodded, obviously not offended anymore, if he ever was. “Gojo Satoru, the strongest, at your service.”

“No more service from you, sir,” you shook your head. “That’s enough children for the time being.”

It was supposed to be a joke, but it inevitably drew both of you closer to the main topic of the upcoming conversation. Gojo did find your joke funny, but the smile stuck on his face and soon enough became almost unnerving. You could feel his thoughts spinning, curling and link like a tapestry. And this tapestry had your son’s face on it bright and clear. You played with tips of sticking out bandages on your wounded arm, not wanting to look in his eyes, even though they were thoroughly covered.

“If you think I will try and make you feel guilty for anything, then stop. You do it to yourself just fine, no help needed,” he started, and your foggy memories of your past encounter revealed you a piece of memory. Yes, it was always a thing — him going from goofy to insanely serious in the matter of seconds. “I’m in no place to do so, I just found out I’m an absent father. Oh, Megumi would find it so funny,” you didn’t know who the hell Megumi was, but somehow you were certain he would not in fact find it funny. “But were you thinking it was safer to hide him from who he obviously is than to give him a chance to learn how to be stronger? He’s got such a potential.”

You sighed, shaking your head.

“You see Yasu as a subject of your interest, a potentially strong… sorcerer,” you wrinkled your nose, hating to call Yasu that. “But he is my son. I wanted him to have a life, not to live trying to trade it for as much other lives as he possibly can.”

“And that’s why he almost traded it for just yours,” Gojo’s words were like a shotgun. They deafened you so hard and so mercilessly, you heard loud ringing all inside and out of you. Head started pulsating with everything grieving mother could have — and you grieved even the possible thought of your son getting killed; even worse, getting killed because of what you thought was totally right.

He fell silent, giving you some time to get used to the thought he just threw at you relentlessly.

“Yes,” you said after a couple of minutes, firmly. Knowingly.

Gojo perked up, taken by surprise and, because of that, genuinely curious. You were just a non-sorcerer, he met you for the second time in his life, and for the second time you managed to be very, very interesting for him. He was intrigued by you back then — he had a memory not half as bad as he made others think he had — he was intrigued by you right now, and you didn’t know it, but it was showing all the way.

He was still here.

“Huh?” he leaned forward in his chair. “What’s that, [Last Name]?”

“You want Yasu to learn your…” you gestured vaguely, not embarrassed by not knowing what exactly you were talking about, “…ways, right? Do it. I can’t protect him anymore, so it’s finally your job now. At least as a… uh, mentor?”

“Teacher,” he corrected, suddenly proud not as a lion — as a whole pride. “How did you know I am one now?”

“Three teens are stalking us through the window behind you for about twenty minutes now, and one of them looks like he thinks the glass is one-sided,” you looked in the mentioned direction, visibly concerned by both the fact they were watching you and the thought that one of them was leaning on the glass like a detective from a cheap American comedy. If he moved away, he’d probably leave face-printed stains on the poor window separating your room and the hospital hall.

Turning around, Gojo seemed absolutely unbothered. He waved at the glass like it was everyday occurrence. The pink-haired kid either did not care he was actually spotted or instantly forgot about it, happily waving back. These are world’s renowned saviours?..

“I have one condition,” you blurted out, taking all the Gojo’s attention back to you. It was amazing how easily you did so.

“Hmm?” he tilted his head, uncannily, if they were to ask you. Maybe the blindfold did its thing, making all he did seem somewhat mad. Wonderland’s Hatter in negative colour. You remembered how it worked for him back then.

It was amusing as much as embarrassing how you’ve always had a thing for such men. Sigh.

This time you were not going to fall for it, though. You had other matters to worry about, and you now had your son. Priorities. And Gojo Satoru was never one of them, even back then. One-night stand, he gifted you with the best son you could possibly ask for and you were grateful, really. But that was it.

“I get to stay by Yasu’s side while you train him. Take me with you, wherever it is.”

“Out of the question,” he stated solidly, stating his point by leaning on the backrest.

“That is not a question,” you answered as solidly. “You do not understand.”

Mere thought of someone taking away your child made you feel a huge surge of strength, and at that moment you felt like you could take on hundreds of ugliest curses if it meant getting your son back to you. You leaned closer to Gojo, now fearlessly, almost mindlessly staring where his eyes should be.

“You can deny me, you can try and take away Yasu, you can hide him from me and make me believe it’s for the best,” you hiss, throat hurting and you not caring at all, “but I will find every and each one way back to him, and if it means I die, so be it. I'll leave my flesh, my limbs, my insides, my head, heart and soul behind just to be with him. I’ll die and become the most terrifying curse for every leaving and deadly cold thing that tries to lay a finger on my son.”

You might seem like you didn’t really understand what you were saying, but Gojo did hold his breath for just a second there. He slowly, carefully put his hand up and tugged on his blindfold. It helplessly fell on his laps.

His eyes were the brightest shade of blue you could ever meet in person, but you never averted your gaze. You’d never be scared of eyes like these, because you were looking in them and all you saw was not Gojo Satoru.

It was your precious son.

Gojo let out a silent breath. You were not aware of it, but you weren’t lying or exaggerating; he looked at you with all the eyes he had and saw this horrific potential — if you were to die, you would most definitely become a curse.

If Yasu didn’t save you yesterday, you would become a curse yourself.

“It’s a deal then,” in contrast to his thoughts, he smiled as brightly as he could. It didn’t fit the occasion, and he knew it way too well.

“Really?” you blinked, snapped from your stupor, and finally lost all the strength you gathered from your motherly rage. You sighed, relieved, and laid back on your pillow.

“Need to talk to Yaga first, though,” he chirped, putting his blindfold back on. “If he refuses, I advise you killing him first.”

“Huh?”

You didn’t get the chance to question his choice of advice, because as soon as you opened your mouth, the door to your room also shut wide open.

“Mama!” Yasu ran right past the doctor that was escorting him and Gojo who stayed at his place, silently watching you two interact.

“Hey, baby, hey, I missed you too,” you smiled and chuckled as Yasu climbed up your bed and immediately held you in his arms. “Ugh, Yasu, my love, mama may actually pass away if you are going to squeeze her too much—“

“Oh, sorry,” he backed away a little, now inspecting you like he was escorting some doctor here just a second ago, not the other way around.

You looked back at Gojo over your shoulder. He didn’t seem like he had any fatherly feelings instantly clicking inside of him, but that was okay, you thought; in his mind, he was not a father not that long ago (at least, not to this child, his personal life did not concern you in any possible way). But noticing him quietly watching Yasu fixing your unfixable hair — you were glad there was no mirror close enough to check yourself out — you were hoping Yasu’s safety would become one of his biggest concerns.

And Gojo, looking at Yasu and you, caught that for the first time in his life he looked at a non-sorcerer and thought:

“She’s strong.”

Notes: absolutely enjoyed writing Gojo being a bit of a simp already, hehe (he thinks your spirit is strong strong). And look at Shoko and Yasu bonding over bullying Satoru, awwww (do all the sorcerers bond this way?) Also some of the next parts will include flashbacks to the day Gojo and reader met so dw it will be addressed in the story! Thank you for you feedback I was really glad you liked the first part of the fic <3

Taglist: @sad-darksoul @moonlightazriel @megumisthirdog @funtikbehemoth

#jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfiction #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you

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prettyboykatsuki · 2 days

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I LIKE IT BETTER WHEN YOU CAN'T KEEP WARM | ODXNY

✮ tags ; heavy themes, gender neutral reader, mentions of past suicidal ideation, getting together, romantic tension, angst to fluff, extremely lovey-dovey ending, some implicit and suggestive content (lit one paragraph n non descript), themes of touch starvation, small height difference (reader is shorter)

✮ wc ; 6.3k (this is so shameful bye forever)

✮ a/n ; every time a semester ends i lose my mind and me writing this in several hours straight is evidence. if i had a nickel for every time i wrote a character study with the central theme of loneliness, i'd have two nickels - which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

i will spare you the insane rambling for the authors note at the bottom of this fic.

✮ synopsis ; he wants something. to live maybe. and if he could be a little selfish, to be with you. he wants that, too.

Bright.

Could just be the dark room he keeps himself in talking. His computer system and encrypted Internet browsers are all in dark mode - and his desktop set-up doesn’t have any L.E.D. strip lights to keep him company. He prefers it that way, the ambiance a better environment to work in when he’s doing his usual rounds. Down to the programs U.I. - Odxny spends most of his time in perpetual darkness. Cozy and familiar - totally safe and secure. Nothing but the low whirrs of a computers fan and the faint blinking of routers to keep him company.

You’re the brightest thing he’s had on his screen in a long time. You’ve got white walls and no precaution, really. You’re sitting at your own desktop - and he can see everything of your life in the background of where you sit. There are photos of you graduating high school, being around unnamed friends, vacations and trips, and head shots like the kind you take for a resume. It’s all so personal. Bookshelves, trinkets, poorly made clay sculptures. Posters of musicians you like and Studio Ghibli movies. Evidence of life surrounds you like a halo.

Awful. Angel comparisons to someone he’s only known for a day make him wonder if he’s more pathetic than he thought. He probably shouldn’t think so hard about a stranger, a real stranger. Thrim generated randomly, though he thinks it sounds like a name. Finds it fun to say, for better or worse.

Natural light pours in from a window nearby, casting shadows in your room. He already knows you, in a way. He did the background search. Where you were born, raised, grew up. The schools you went too, the career you seek. Bits and pieces of you are all scattered in his memory and are not at all thorough. He wasn’t really trying for that at the time, just needed to know if you were dangerous. There’s a cognitive dissonance. To know a life so thoroughly and to witness it is completely, and utterly different.

There’s miles between you. Must be thousands. He can’t remember the last time he’s really met someone, though. It’s hard not to notice that this feels akin to that. Like the embers of a campfire, glowing but not burning. A comfortable warmth.

Bright. His screen is very bright talking to you. Even obscured behind the mask, it’s a little difficult to look at it and leaves him on edge - restless and mildly painful.

When his vision adjusts though, there’s clarity. A person, a stranger - with an exceptionally nice laugh and who is exceptionally trusting. Odxny tries not to think too hard about the feeling of warmth that flutters at your overflowing sincerity.

The conversation is easy.

“Does that mean you trust me now?”

Odxny pretends to think on it. “Enough to keep you around.”

“See you later.”

“See you.”

You accompany your last words with a wave - short and sweet. Darkness pulls him in, back where he started. He has a mild headache from all the light.

You pick up on the language better than he thought you would.

He underestimated you. Can you blame him? Your choice is language is ArnoldC, for fucksake. Sure, he has limited knowledge on esoteric languages but can it really be in-depth enough to show you the basics.

(It can. Or at least, Od presumes this to be the case because you’re rather helpful in Incri’s hacks and Incri is hardly helpful to anyone in the world, no less the server.)

You pick up on things quickly with little guidance - always to the point and not usually making many errors. He has to commend your abilities and give you credit where it’s due. It’s not a hard language to learn, but for anyone with no familiarity with coding at all he’d expect there to be a learning curve. Even if you had coding language, it’s not like you knew SQL coming in.

You fit strangely well into the server somehow. You’re happy to learn and nonplussed about helping with small things, though you don’t know these people at all and have no reason to participate in their nonsense. You talk to Incri fine, and manage to get Pep to accidentally reveal telling information. Odxny finds all of this rather… entertaining maybe. More than impressive, really.

He has a hard time making sense of the feeling. He would hope you don’t think you’re under duress - given the fact your relationship in two days has been pleasant. Then again - maybe he’s missed some social cue and you do think that. It’s possible. After all, he doesn’t actually remember the last time he’s spoken verbally to anyone with very, very few exceptions.

He manages to call you again after the fact - opens the call with sincere and heartfelt congrats and feels pleasant seeing you take the compliment in stride.

You land on the subject of programming again, inevitably. He interrogates you a little more over your choice in language - almost like he can’t help himself. It’s basic curiosity. You had said you were the best in ArnoldC. A little research proved that to be true, presence of you in the forums of various esolang pages. He landed on many things. You’re the best at ArnoldC, but you also know Brainfuck for some ridiculous reason.

He thinks you’re a little ridiculous in general.

“It’s really for the love of the game, huh?”

You nod when he asks this. Smiling, bright and unbothered with a soft edge of smug pride that makes the muscles of his face twitch up. “Mhm. I like my little collection.

Odxny doesn’t doubt it for even a minute. He’s seen the proof, but perhaps he doesn’t need to mention that. “Your trophy case of ridiculous language?”

Your eyes come to life all of a sudden. “Wait. A real trophy case would actually be so cool.”

He pauses, blinking as the words sink before a smile breaks onto his face helplessly. “That was not to enable you.”

“Too late. I’m already looking up the ugliest wood trim display cases I can find.”

The laugh comes naturally. “You really are just like this?”

You look proud again. “What? Fun?”

Yes, Odxny thinks but doesn’t say. “Baffling.”

You ask Odxny to elaborate and he does. The conversation flows with frustrating ease. So easily that he mouths off about his plans to you without a second thought. He doesn’t know why he does it. Not really. He’s thought it through over and over - so it’s not like he needs to disclose it. He made his choice.

He thinks about moving it along. About ending the call or simply brushing past without going into any detail.

When he glances at the screen, you’ve got a pillow in your lap and your eyes completely focused on him. There’s that feeling again, alarming clarity in your gaze and brightness that causes him immense unease in the world he’s made of nihilistic, apathetic darkness. There’s a plan, always has been. He’ll do this and disappear and the world will soon forget him. If it happens that way, than at least this loneliness is a choice he’s made for himself and not something the world has cruelly decided for him.

His lips move faster than his head, than even his heart. Compelled by a nameless and brilliant force. “I don’t have any reason to stay. I’m just — tired. Of everything.”

“No reasons? Nothing makes you happy here?”

His response is measured. Quiet. It’s not secret. He finds his voice crumbles around the words anyway as if they’re a confession. “Not for a long time. I don’t feel much of anything, really. It is what it is.”

You frown. He’s seen it all before. Heard it all before. “That’s…”

He cuts you off quickly.

“We just met. And we’ll be strangers again soon enough.” He says with as much conviction and resolve as he can possible manage. Who he’s convincing remains unclear. “So, not to be cold but..you know.”

The disappointment in your face leaves an impression, but you relent. He tries to make amends for the depressing conversation of talking again and you perk up so genuinely it makes want to cry, in a distant and foreign way.

“Catch you later, then.” He says, and closes at out the call. The room falls dark for the second time. He blinks a few times to get rid of the light clouding his vision.

Wnpep is eager to teach you on the third day.

You’re eager in reply - matching energy with sharp wit and enthusiasm. Wnepep is a better teacher than Incri by several miles. Evident in how much faster everything falls into place for you. Not that you really need too much help in the first place. You break down the crumbling walls of an insurance scam with ease and come out of the other side more accomplished.

It’s a noble last hack, Odxny thinks. Not unsurprising from Pep - unofficially the most sane and likeable member. He figured it’d be something like this less than a matter of personal vengeance.

You go back and forth for a bit in admin chat. Od types an apology about winding you up and tries not to read too much into the innuendo of it as you reply back with your own faux offended replies. He insists he’s somewhat sorry, and you’re far from believing him.

He finds himself grinning at his screen while he texts you mid conversation. When the realization hits, he almost curls into himself from embarrassment - a hand covering his mouth like it’ll do away with the grave sin.

The inneundo happens twice in one conversation, before you get to call under the premise of a victory toast.

A brief conversation about the last hacks barely leaves room for much else except Odxny plans of total isolation.

“Mm. I should’ve known it would come back to this. Why do you care what I choose to do with myself?”

That baffles you in a terribly genuine way. “Am I not allowed to care about another person?”

Odxny speaks honestly. “You are but I mean…” He trails off. He knows how he feels. “I’m not really a person anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m no one. I’m going to be no one. You have other things to fill your life with.”

There’s a vulnerable edge to his voice that he winces at when he hears it. It’s true isn’t it? All of it is true to Odxny, but especially where he says you have other things to fill your life with. You might share the same hobbies, but he’s seen it. He’s seen how different you are - your livelihoods, your existence. You’d be missed if you suddenly disappeared. Odxny knows the same isn’t true for himself. It’s been like that for a long while now.

(It’s crushing. That’s what makes your very ephemeral existence feel like a burden. Why it casts the shadows of doubt on choices he made, about how he would live so long ago. You care, don’t you? At least, more than anyone else in his life in the present. You care so undeniably, and so obviously and it is all so simple to you.

He almost envies it. Almost resents it, too. It’s such a small shred of humanity, the barest forms of sincerity but it is painfully raw. A split nerve. An open wound It’s not like the server, all of whom have accepted this distant fondness. It’s a delicate thread - spider silk accuracy and just as much strength. There’s conviction in your missing him and it haunts him.)

You think of what to say for a long time before landing on it. “I do. But I can care about multiple things at once,”

It sounds like I care about you too closely. He finds himself shivering. He’s truthful with you, unsure of how else to be when it comes to these conversations.

“That sounds burdensome.” He says. “Isn’t that exhausting?”

You don’t lie to him either. “Sometimes. But it’s worth the trouble.”

“Why?”

“Because I like your company,” You reply. Soft sincerity in your words. More clarity. More painstaking light.

“It can’t be that simple.”

“Why not?”

“If it was that simple then -“ Then it makes it seem like things could be different. He doesn’t say that. Stops himself before it can happen. “I don’t know why I’m bothering to argue. Why do I feel like I need to prove this to you?”

He’s almost afraid to look at your face, wincing when he sees how knowing you look. Not in a condescending way - but genuine, full blown understanding. Like you see through him.

He wonders if he knows you as well as he thought he did.

Your face is so sympathetic. “Are you sure it’s me?”

He cuts the conversation short on his own - making an awkward transition from the topic at hand into whatever he can manage. It’s an awkward fumble - a poor attempt at distracting both of you from this line of thinking. You’re kind enough to let him have it. He asks about your hobbies. You tell him about how you like to try the weirdest things and combinations you can find in a restaurant.

He finds it suits you.

A lot of things suit you. Even your piss poor attempt at the Terminator that he quickly mimics - possessed by god knows what.

You laugh when he does. Brilliant and bubbly and characteristically warm. You say the words through giggles.

“That was so bad!”

“It was a lapse in judgment,” He replies back defensively, smiling against his will. He finds himself laughing too.

“I like your laugh, by the way.”

He pauses caught off-guard. “Oh? My laugh. Oh, uhm. Thank you.”

You make a face that he can’t read. Knowing. In a different way than the last. He feels nervous.

“I have been laughing quite a bit, haven’t I?”

You grin. Smug and deliriously happy. “Sure have.”

He looks away from you. “Ha...Odd.”

You giggle again. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, nose scrunched in genuine delight. It’s a pleasant sound but not because it’s particularly wispy or floaty or delicate. But it’s real. Pleasant in the way the white noise of park during summer. Pleasant like the varied playlist overhead in a record shop. Pleasant like a moment of humanity tucked between everyday. He clears his throat.

“I like your laugh, I think.”

You laugh again, gasping with faux offense. “You think???”

He tries not to feel so grounded by that sound and fails. “Yeah. I think. Laugh again.”

He tries not to add please. You shake your head like you’re reprimanding him.

“No, no, you have to earn that. Make me laugh.”

“Nevermind. Shut up.”

You do laugh again that time. He joins you soon after. “And now you laugh? At me?”

The conversation moves again, comfortable like a tide. You ask about his favorite language and he tells you as much. You’re quiet and growing cheeky, listening to him talk.

“So you do like coding.”

“Maybe a little.” He replies, not giving in. “You remember far too much of what I say.”

The conversation comes to a close again. He thanks you for how nice its been and you make an off-handed attempt to get him to change his mind. You could always talk more. The implication delicate beneath it.

We don’t have to forget each other. Odxny brushes past it - but says he’ll see you tomorrow anyway.

Extorting Elimfs childhood friend (?) is an easy enough endeavor. Odxny texts you through out - to ask advice on what things to take when he leaves.

He calls you again when its over too. He can’t find a reason for it - nothing that makes sense. He just wanted to call you. He hasn’t wanted something like that in a while, but he tells himself its fine. This is the last time you’ll ever know each other.

So its fine. He won’t waver.

He’ll just.. call you.

He asks you on your weed habits, mildly surprised when you tell him you smoke and take edibles sometimes too. The conversation loops back to the fund at one point. You don’t hide your displeasure about the whole thing today.

You’ve talked about it already. No need to keep bringing up. But you seem to feel so strongly and Odxny can’t figure out why. Can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know why every single time.

“Is it really so hard to believe I’ve come to like you in a few days?” You ask, after probing.

“In a way that matters, yes.”

You frown at him when he says that. It’s the most upset he’s seen you look, if he can call it that. You’ve never been upset when he’s been rude or insulting - but this is bothering you. It doesn’t help him pull away from you.

He says it again. Reinforces how temporary this all is. He’s trying to convince one of you. Both of you, maybe, of his unimportance.

“I don’t think that little of you.”

He finds it hard to reply to that. It’s that feeling against. It makes him uncomfortable. It’s not empty platitudes or some vague sense of responsibility for his life. All of it is real, and all of it is meaningful in how plain it is. You make it seem easy.

“It’s life. It’s normal. People come, people go.”

You shake your head. “Not for me. I can’t forget you that easily.”

He wishes you would. He’s painfully, painfully relieved that you wouldn’t it. He voices neither thought.

“Then- try! You’re putting so much on yourself, and for what? You don’t stand to gain anything.”

You shrug. “Peace of mind. Knowing you’re still out there.”

It’s heavy. The implication is heavy. He’s not going to kill himself. He doesn’t want that anymore, though he thought about it. At the beginning. Loneliness is more painful when you have memories of what not being that way was like - he thinks. At the start of all that loss, the hollowness bared an almost painful gravity inside of him.

It’s like being told to breathe or blink - becoming conscious of what was once a natural function, how full life was once when it’s escaped. He doesn’t want to kill himself, but living is meaningless.

These things aren’t paradoxical to him. They haven’t been for all this time.

(They weren’t until he met you at least. A mirror of wanting. Odxny looks at you and sees life reflected back. Despite it not being his, its moving. It’s beautiful in a human way, reachable. Tangible. Earned.

Wherever you are. Whenever you’re together, the black hole inside of himself seems to fade back into average planetary darkness. He becomes cruelly human again, feeling warmth and laughter.

He’s tells himself he’s not afraid of dying and that’s mostly true. He’s most afraid of living. Afraid he won’t be able to learn it again.)

He manages to tell you some of what he’s thinking. He has no clue how to start over. He doesn’t know if it’s possible. You don’t feed him any false hope, but he tells you how he sees it. You’re feeling pity for him right? And you should figure that out sooner rather than later.

“Is it really that easy for you?”

You shake your head. You’re smiling but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “It isn’t. But I have to try.”

“Is that what you’re doing with me?”

“What?”

“Is this…?”

He cuts the call off when he hears himself, unsure of what answer he’s hoping for. The realization dawns on him too much, too quickly. The feeling of hope is loud in his chest but there is another feeling, embarrassing in it’s swiftness that follows shortly after.

Oh.

The servers shuts down after a mildly sappy adventure to close up shop. The closest Odxny has gotten to flirting with you in his own way. He’s sad to see everyone go, despite there being no other choice.

It’s easier than he thought it’d be. To give you his number he means, even after shutting the entire server down. After leaving everything behind. He gives you the choice to make. Call me if you still want it - a silent promise.

Maybe because deep down - some part of him always wanted to make this choice. Just maybe.

Your voice is different over the phone line. A little clearer, spoken softer. Just as lovely as it was the first time he heard it. Maybe more. Maybe.

The city beneath him is bright. So bright. It doesn’t hurt to look at, he thinks.

You call him every day.

You’ve been doing it for months.

He thought, at some point, you’d let up or start to forget. He’s been waiting on it to happen as horrible as it sounds. Like some self-fulfilling prophecy, he’d slip back into the background as is natural. A proof of his nonexistence, if you will.

You don’t forget though. He almost wonders if he’s dreaming when it happens. There’s a routine between you two, these days. You have your own life that you’ve been living the same as normal. When it’s night time for you, though - you hop onto your desktop and call Od like you’re two very average people.

There’s nothing solid to define your relationship aside from friendship as is. This is less frustrating than he expected it to be. Getting to know you better has only made him like you more. Your relationship is solid in a strange way. It’s been about six months total, and as corny as it sounds - Odxny feels like he’s known you for his entire life. You understand him in an intimate way, with vulnerable tenderness and radical acceptance.

He kind of misses the privacy of his old stomping grounds, but he doesn’t mind speaking though discord. It feels… normal. In a not displeasing way. You mostly talk to talk about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it’s your job search, other times it’s your part-time or friend drama. You’re vibrant as always. Without the wall of anonymity, Odxny gets to know of you like he’s just your average person. He finds he really, really likes that.

You play games together frequently. He’s never been interested in cozy gaming, but you play Minecraft and Stardew Valley together per your request. Odxny streams himself playing Ocarina of Time for you on Discord in the background sometimes too, and you keep it on when you’ve got work to do or you’re cooking or something else. There’s something very mundane to it.

You’re not doing anything with him today though. You’re calling him on facetime, rather than at your desktop. You’ve made the executive decision to laze around and Odxny has no problem joining you though you speak less than usual as a result of being sleepy. You had a long shift yesterday so perhaps Odxny can’t blame you.

“Need to get better shoes. For walking and stuff.” You say thoughtlessly. The corners of his lips twitch up.

“Yeah?”

You nod. Your face is smushed against your pillow at an unflattering angle. He smiles a little.

“Yeah. I’m on my feet for like nine hours when I serve and it hurts wearing flats. Need something sturdier even it diminishes my drip.”

He laughs at that. “Please never say that again.”

You continue onwards. “Decreases my aura, even. But alas, utility comes first.”

He snickers as he glances at you through the phone. You’re propped against one of his monitors as he does work on his computer. He’s getting back into programming for the love of the game, just seeing what he can do.

“Want help looking?”

“Feels a little ridiculous asking a super pro-hacker to shop Sketchers with me.”

“You seriously thinking of buying Sketchers?”

You laugh lightly. “Maybe I’ll get tipped more if I get the light-up ones.”

“Please don’t.”

“Hater.”

You break out into genuine laughter as Odxny shakes his head in despair. It’s something you’d do, no doubt. You sigh.

“I really do want a break from work.” You roll around on your mattress. Odxny can hear your rustling but can’t see you much. “The chains of capitalism shackle me in place. Woe is me.”

Odxny thinks on what you’ve said for a long while in silence. The question comes up every now and again though he’s never brave enough to ask it. His ludicrous amount of disposable income however is still sitting in his bank, collecting dust. It’s been six months and he’s hardly made a dent in it.

“Do you want to come visit?” He asks, cringing at the sound of his own voice. The words are strained and a little too eager. “I can pay the difference for expenses for wages and stuff. And, uh. Uhm,”

He loses his train of thought trying to speak, worsened by the way you pop onto his screen when he says that. Your expression is unreadable to him, comfortable and even. You smile a little as you lift the phone so he can see what you look like laying in your bed. Your face is in full view.

“It’d be a little weird to visit you before we start dating officially, no?”

His eyes go wide at the implication. You grin, mischief and mirth making your eyes practically beam. He can feel a blush crawl up his neck as soon as he registers it.

“Excuse me? Why are you saying that like it’s already been decided?” He bites back, not sure what else he could say.

“So you don’t want to date me?”

“I didn’t- you - damn it,” He groans at his own bluster as he giggles on the other side of the line. So cheeky. Damn him for liking it and damn you for being cute. “…You are saying you like me right?”

Your face softens. He can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Uh-huh. Just wanted to take it slow. But I’ve liked you for a long time.”

“How long is that, exactly?”

You shrug playfully and the fact he can’t be within reach to kiss you feels especially harrowing. “A secret.” You smile again, all trouble. “So. Wanna date?”

“Terrible confession. Zero stars,” He says petulantly. He leans back in his chair and finds himself smiling uncontrollably. “Fine. I guess.”

Your laugh fills his room. He doesn’t get tired of hearing it. His face hurts from smiling.

He manages to stave off on the anxiety of you coming to see him for a lot longer than he thought possible.

Making arrangements proves to be a little difficult. You have to tell your roommates that you’ll be gone for a while but promise to still pay rent and explain to your boss where you’re going. You have a good enough relationship and have been working long enough for them to agree to keep a spot open so you can start working when you come back.

After that, there’s the matter of Visas. Odxny goes out of his way to make that process go much faster than normal, though he doesn’t actually tell you. Once all of that’s sorted, there’s living arrangements. Try as you might to insist to live somewhere else, his place is too spacious for him to let you stay anywhere else. You can take the guest room.

He pretends that all of this is just happening in his imagination. He doesn’t even know the last time anyone came over, let alone lived with him. He does his best to make things presentable, and makes a guest room for you to live in should you desire. He even buys more decor (plants and things) to make it look… less like a cave and more like a home.

Nothing really feels real until the day arrives though. It’s a long flight and difficult trip. You refused to let him pay for the tickets so he moved it around to get you into first class both ways through other methods.

You text him the terminal, the arrival time, any and all delays. Still. None of it feels real until he’s already waiting for you near the bags. He can feel his heart race, his lungs short of air. He’s never experienced something so ridiculously contradictory in his entire life. He wants to run away while feeling stuck in place.

The anticipation nearly kills him.

He would recognize your voice anywhere though. Like he did for so many days alone in the dark. A hand waves high, shouting as loud as it can.

“It’s you!”

The sound of sneakers skidding across tile floors make his breath hitch. His eyes go wide as you stand still in front of him, luggage in hand and a million-watt smile on your face. He feels his heart beat so loud, he wonders if he’s going to throw up.

“Hey.” He says, dumbly.

“Hi!”

The adjustment period to living together isn’t what he expects.

It’s been a long time since he’s been so close to another human being. It becomes clear that you’re really living together though when your things end up in the bathroom completely incidentally. There’s something about finding your sleep shirt on a towel rack that makes reality settle in. You’re living together.

He’d be stupid not to notice the purposeful distance between you. An attempt to be thoughtful and not overwhelm him. It’s never awkward when you’re together. You eat together, watch movies and play games while sitting too close on the couch. You’ve been on a date in the two weeks you’ve spent, and it barely took any convincing on your end to make him go along with you.

Isolation aside though, Odxny is not clueless to the conventions of modern dating. You avoid touching him too casually. He doesn’t blame you, but he can’t help but crave your presence with a little more bittersweet longing as the days pass. He has to get past it or bring it up eventually, but it feels like something he’s never going to get over somehow.

The opportunity to do so gets thrown at him all at once. You’ve been living together for sixteen days. A conversation about love languages is what undoes it.

“Whats your love language, Od?”

He gives you a quizzical look. “Dunno actually. Never bothered to look.”

“I’d guess… hm. Quality time maybe? Or words of affirmation.”

He shrugs as he sits next to you on the couch, glancing at your phone as you read through the different ones. “What’s yours?”

“Physical touch. I’m super touchy. With anyone who will let me, honestly. Bad habits.”

Odxny gives you a long look as you say it. He debates if he should bring it up.

“You don’t have to be so careful around me, you know?”

You look up at him, startled by the comment. Several things pass over your face before you settle on an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s not like I don’t want to. I just don’t want to be too much for you.”

“That wouldn’t happen.” He says automatically. You laugh good-naturedly.

“Your confidence is assuring, but you underestimate how touchy I am. I’m afraid of I get my hands on you, I’ll never let go again,”

He thinks he wants that more than is normal. He shakes his head. “I don’t mind.”

You give him a long look, seeming struck by an idea, before humming and standing up. You turn around with your hand out towards him. His brows furrow in bewilderment.

“Have some faith.”

He takes your hand and stands up with you. He likes that he’s taller than you. Staring at you, he feels your fingers clasp around his hand and his heart thuds - loud and messy.

“Your room or mine?”

“What?”

You laugh. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Or don’t actually, but I don’t bear lewd intentions.”

He crinkles his nose at the word usage and laughs. “Shut up.”

“Just trust me, okay?”

He concedes with embarassing swiftness.

“Okay.”

You lead Odxny to the guest room you’ve been living in for the last two weeks. The bed is well-made and all the new furniture he bought is occupying so many of your belongings. It makes him dizzy. You shut the door behind him as you lead him in. It just feels especially surreal.

Wordless, you let go of his hand and hop up onto your bed. Once you’re laying down, you prop up on your side with your elbow and pat the empty space next to you, smiling at him as you do. Once it clicks what your asking, he can feel his face grow hot. He can’t refuse it though, and he doesn’t want too.

The sheets you bought together smell like you. Between there’s practically no distance between you at this angle. He’s gotten to look at you plenty through these few days but it’s different. You scoot impossibly close to him until there’s nothing separating you.

Your breath is warm - a soft exhale leaving your lips as you inch closer.

“What’re we doing?” He asks in a murmur, stone stiff. You smile, coyly.

“Touching each other.”

He frowns at the joke. Your expression goes a touch serious right after. The sincerity is debilitating. “Can I touch you?”

He nods. Can’t do much more than that.

He stares at you with impending, long-suffering longing as you bring a single hand to his face and cradle his neck. He flinches unintentionally, but pulls your hand back when you try to move it. He wants this. You relax a little when he does that.

Your hands are softer. Softer than a heartbeat. He can feel the various cuts and scars from years of working against his skin but they’re still so soft. He can feel how warm you in such a brief touch his chest aches. Your hands cradle his face tenderly, thumb brushing across his lip with a smile brighter than thousands of lights. Something in your expression wreaks havoc on his heart. Something so raw and so gentle and so full within it - all directed towards him.

It’s been so long. So long. He’s never wanted something so bad he couldn’t remember needing. He’s never wanted to be closer to someone than he does to you in the moment.

“You’re handsome,” You say, so sweetly. Not a confession, but gentle appraisal. It’s rare he cries but he wants too. “I like looking at you. Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” He rasps, gravel in his voice unfamiliar.

You hum a little. Closing the space between you with a press of lips. It’s not chaste. Odxny is grateful for how long and how deep you linger. He wants it so badly. He wants you in some damning and unforgiving way. How could a human being feel so warm? Feel so pleasant with so little?

You press your foreheads together. His hand trembles when they grip onto your waist but you encourage him just a little. It’s just a kiss. His heart might beat out of him. It’s just a kiss. He thinks he loves you.

Your hand moves away from his face. You let it go underneath his loose shirt to touch his shoulder, running your palm down the plane of his chest. You squeeze his waist, and wrap your arms around his back and pull him to you until your bodies touch somewhere in the middle.

You guide his face to your neck and chest as you hold him. He grips onto you tight in response, a gasp in the back of his lungs at the sudden sensation. You coo above him, soft and light - your fingers threading through his hair and nails massaging his scalp.

Your voice sounds above him, despite how deep in a haze he is. He can’t do anything but cling to you with impossible longing. You speak softly as you pet him. Your heartbeat soothes his.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You tell him. There’s that familiar clarity that makes him want to cry. “I’m glad you let me come with you.”

He can’t think of anything to say back. It’s a soul-shattering emotion. “I love you.”

You laugh wetly above him. “I love you, too. So much.” And then much softer. “Let’s be together for a long time.”

You lay in each others arms until sunset. In small talk and silent murmurs. It takes him hours to work up the courage to kiss you again - but only minutes to take it further.

It’s desperate. Terribly. Inevitable. You’re beautiful in a way that is undescribable, best expressed through his teeth on your neck and his hands all over where he can reach - each grip and thrust and bite a reminder. You’re pretty when you’re pleased, warmth reaching up inside of him whenever you make the right face.

He buries himself in you. You’re soft and warm and beautiful and he wants to stay with you. Time is a thief. He damns the sun when it tears you from him come morning.

He decides to make breakfast when you wake up. Nothing complicated. You go to shower after him and he plates up toast and eggs and other various things. It’s half done when you come downstairs.

Your skin is still damp, and you smell of vanilla and soap. Your coffee sits in a cup on the table as you pad over to him. He turns to look at you as you reach your hand up and cup his face. You pepper a kisses along his cheeks stopping at his lips for the last one before you’re satisfied.

He fails in his attempt not to blush.

“Morning.” You grin. He tries not to be sick at the domesticity of it all and fails.

“Yeah. Morning.”

You sit at the counter and drink your coffee, glancing outside the window. “It’s bright outside.”

Odxny can’t tear his eyes off of you. “Yeah...” He agrees. He’s not torn his gaze away. “Very bright.”

✮ a/n ; i want all real life compsci men to kick rocks but odxny sweeped me off my feet in a way i can only describe as humiliating. he is a bit like astarion for me in that i see a lot of myself in him at least in the past. he is also incredibly babygirl and uhm . other things (fine. he's very gorjus.) but i truthfully was most compelled by his idealized idea of isolation. as the fic will show it resonated with me as a fellow compsci dork who also tends to isolate like crazy LOL

this fic was like a demon that possessed me. literally no meds, no caffiene - just balls to the wall demonic possesion of needing something out of my system LMAOO. and adhd of course. im working on all the other stuff too i promise. consider this a short interlude 👍🏾

#seekL x reader #odxny x reader #seekL #odxny #girl how the hell am i meant to tag this #normal fandoms tagging ettiquette means no fic but i dont think it applies here #what is my problem so genuinely

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brainrot-of-a-thot · 1 day

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i was wondering how togame, sakura and unemiya (if you can) would react to someone else flirting with the reader😭 and p.s i just wanted to say your writing is chefs kisses 🫶🏻

she’s mine (just not officially)

or, someone is flirting with you, and they can’t deal, featuring: haruka sakura, hajime umemiya, jo togame, suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki

a/n: I actually sort of combined two similar requests into one — just felt it would be easier for everyone! tbh I loved writing this. jealous boys are yummy ~ and thank you so so much for your kind words babes, they mean so much to me! <33

note: first time writing for pretty boy kiryu!! ooh nooo he’s actually kinda cute eeeeee

c/w: fem!reader, crushes, headcanon blurbs, language, jealousy, pre-relationship

the instant that sakura haruka registers that someone’s flirting with you, he’s clenching his teeth so hard that his gums start to ache.

there’s many things that crop up in his mind and threaten to spill from his lips — but he holds them back, because none of them would truly make sense in the situation.

you can’t very well tell someone to back off of your girlfriend when she’s not your girlfriend.

it irritates sakura to no end to watch the way your cheeks flush prettily at every lame-ass compliment the slooze offers you; they aren’t even that good, simply mediocre at best, and it’s very clear that all the dude wants is to get in your pants — and sakura can’t even fathom how you can’t see that.

your giggles, normally so pleasant to his ears, grate like nails on a chalkboard when they’re evoked by someone else.

sakura knows he’s more than likely overreacting, but he can’t help it. every fiber of his being is screaming at him to yank the douche away from you, to separate your bodies that are drawing way too close for comfort, to drag you off to some darkened corner and show you that he’s the one that’s worthy of your attention — that all he wants is to receive it and offer you his own.

but he can’t — and that’s the worst part of it. all these things he wants to do, all the things that sleazeball is currently doing, are the things that sakura is too scared to do.

maybe one day, he’ll pluck up the courage to put himself in that place; and if only he could see the yearning glances you send his way, then he would realize there is no need to fear rejection.

truth be told, you won’t even know hajime umemiya is jealous, because he knows how to (mostly) play it cool.

he’s long since learned to smother negative emotions with ones that are positive — and if he simply can’t smother them, he will act as if they aren’t even there, and proceed with his day like normal.

this process is no different when he feels that green snake curl up in his heart.

of course, he’s outwardly calm, but on the inside he’s seething over every interaction you have with the man. umemiya is taking note of every single pick-up line and compliment the man is throwing at you, and discreetly judging them — that one was way too cheesy, or that one delivered way too lazily, and really, when is the whole “did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” schtick going to die out?

umemiya couldn’t blame him for asking that question though; you were purely angelic, what with that soft smile and those beautiful eyes and that silky hair — he could go on and on about every angelic quality about you.

umemiya does his best to keep his nose out of these situations, but the second he hears the man suggest a date, umemiya is springing to your side with a bright smile.

he’ll apologize to the man and launch into an explanation about how you have plans already (plans of which you weren’t aware of until just now), and only once he’s secured you away from your suitor will he smile sheepishly and say, “I totally forgot to let you know about that. just figured you’d want to come along.”

umemiya never once stops to wonder why you never refute his claims of agreed-upon plans, or why you never question the fact that those same plans turn out to be very rushed and obviously cooked up on the spot; or why he only springs them on you when you’re being hit on.

when someone is flirting with you, jo togame has to find a way to occupy his hands — by fiddling with his ramune bottle, fixing the collar of his jacket, or even in some cases, by simply shoving them in his pockets.

because, nine times out of ten, when someone starts flirting with you, togame is right there beside you; and his hands begin to tremble with the urge to place themselves somewhere on your body. he wants to sate that protective and possessive growl in him by showing a subtle claim over you by a well-placed hand on your hip.

but togame doesn’t hold that claim over you; because although he’s head over heels for you, you have absolutely no idea about it — and sometimes, togame doubts you’d ever hold the same depth of emotion for him too, even if you did know.

so he sits, and he waits, and he seethes. and he yearns. and he thinks.

thinks about what it would feel like if he could do the very thing his mind was screaming at him to; wonders how good it would feel to have your body tucked against his, to be able to look at the guy and say, “I’m sorry, but she’s taken,” all the while you smile up happily at him. like he’s the only man on earth.

togame thinks about all these things — completely unaware that, in that same moment, you are too.

whenever a man enters a conversation with you, suo hayato very subtly injects himself into it and then takes complete control of it. though it’s fairly obvious the man only wanted to talk to you, suo somehow manages to get him roped into a conversation with him as well.

suo is never straight-up rude — but it’s not hard to discern if one bothers to read between the lines. his voice is as calm and unaffected as ever, even bordering on genuinely conversational at times, but there’s this hint of something else beneath it; almost like a threat of some sort.

any and all topics pertaining to you are steered in another direction, the turns always orchestrated by suo himself — sometimes you find yourself wondering why the guy is even still there, why he’s actually conversing with suo when you could clearly feel that he was interested in you.

the man knows why. he feels the silent commands that suo sends his way, feels the aura from him.

of course, you can’t really detect that — but the man flirting with you certainly can. whatever metaphorical language suo is speaking in the man understands clearly, and before you know it, his interest in you is deflected (forced) away.

and every time, you’re left wondering why you don’t feel disappointed about it; and why it just feels more natural for it to just be you and suo.

kiryu mitsuki is what you’d call a man of few expressions. it isn’t that he’s emotionless or incapable of feeling, it’s just that it’s difficult to tell what he’s feeling. his expression is always soft, eyebrows relaxed and eyes even more so, his lips always pulled into a smile as if he’s heard a joke that only he understands. if anything, you’d say kiryu looks content with life — it’s actually a quite charming look.

but when someone’s flirting with you, kiryu looks anything but. his brows are furrowed and the smile is wiped from his mouth. his eyes, a kind, gentle green, burn like twin peridot in hellfire.

kiryu can’t even hide it; can’t be bothered too. he’s shown his affection towards you in ways that are too blatant to be considered merely-friendly. he may not have ever verbally confirmed his feelings for you, but he doesn’t really have to. kiryu shows them.

of course, he’s well aware that you haven’t reciprocated these feelings; and he won’t force you to — if it happens, it’ll happen naturally.

it’s because of this philosophy that he won’t ever interject himself or disrupt the flow of your conversation with the man, but after it’s all said and done with, kiryu will be just a tad clingier towards you than before — and secretly, selfishly, hope that you’ll reciprocate his feelings soon, so that he can finally call you his and he can say all the things he wants to to guys that flirt with you.

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #haruka sakura x reader #hajime umemiya x reader #suo hayato x reader #mitsuki kiryu x reader #jo togame x reader

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paisleypens · 2 days

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Hello! I hope you’re having a wonderful day, i just have a request if that’s okay.

Could you maybe do Spencer Reid x fem!reader who is smart but doesn’t really get the chance to show the areas she’s smart in? I don’t know if that makes sense, but like in other words she’s insecure because everyone else is so smart and can figure out things so quickly, yet her brain works slower and it takes her a while to figure things out? So she just feels dumb around them? And one day she overhears (I know none of them would do this but it's for the purpose of the story) someone talking bad abour her and uses the word dumb?

And then sweet little Spence finds her crying? You can have fun with the ending, I want you to have some freedom with it!

Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope you have a wonderful day. And you don’t have to write this just a suggestion. (AND I LOVE YOUR SPENCER STORIES THEY’RE SO AMAZINGLY WRITTEN LOVE) 💗💗💗

I LOVE YOU STOP IT. this request is gorgeous and so real. i get really bad imposter syndrome so i hope yall find this as comforting as i did 🫶 i also haven’t been giving reid any love lately send some reid stuff my way!!

different strengths | spencer reid x f!reader

~~~

You sat at your desk, methodically typing out a report, trying to ignore the soft chatter of your colleagues in the bullpen. The rest of the BAU team always seemed to crack cases so effortlessly, piecing together intricate puzzles with the speed and precision of master craftsmen. You admired them, but the admiration often turned into a gnawing insecurity. Despite your intelligence, you struggled to keep up, your brain needing more time to process and connect the dots.

Your fingers paused over the keyboard as a murmur from the break room caught your attention. You couldn't help but eavesdrop when you heard your name.

"...she's nice, but she just doesn't get things like we do. It's like, I don't know, her brain works slower or something. Maybe she’s just dumb."

Your heart sank. The word "dumb" hit you like a punch to the gut. Fighting back tears, you slipped away from your desk and found refuge in one of the empty offices. The door clicked shut behind you, and the dam broke. You sank into a chair, sobbing quietly into your hands.

Spencer Reid, with his keen observational skills, had noticed you slipping away. He had always been drawn to you, your kindness, and your unique perspective, even if you didn't see it yourself. Worried, he followed you and after a moment gently knocked on the door.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

You quickly wiped your tears and tried to compose yourself, but your voice wavered as you responded. "Yeah, I'm fine, Spencer. Just needed a moment."

He wasn't convinced. He opened the door and stepped inside, his face etched with concern. "I heard what they said. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes. "It's true, Spencer. I just... I can't keep up with everyone. I feel so stupid."

Spencer's heart ached at your words. He moved closer, his eyes soft with empathy. "Y/N, you are not stupid. Your intelligence is just as valuable as anyone else's here. You see things differently, and that's a strength, not a weakness."

You looked up at him, sniffling. "But I never get to show what I'm good at. Everyone's always ten steps ahead."

Spencer knelt down beside your chair, his gaze earnest. "That's not true. You contribute in ways you might not even realize. The way you connect with victims' families, your attention to detail, your intuition... those are things none of us can do as well as you can."

His words were a balm to your wounded heart, and you managed a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Spencer."

He smiled back, a warmth spreading through him at your expression. "How about we get out of here? It's the end of the day, and I know a great place for ice cream. My treat."

You chuckled softly, feeling lighter already. "I'd like that."

As you both walked out of the office together, the tension began to fade. You exchanged stories, laughed about cases, and for the first time in a while, you felt seen and valued.

Sitting in the ice cream parlor, the two of you shared a banana split, your shoulders brushing occasionally, sending sparks of electricity through both of you. Despite your insecurities, Spencer's presence made you feel safe and appreciated.

As you finished the last bite, Spencer looked at you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "You know, Y/N, I've always admired you. You're smart, kind, and incredibly strong. Anyone who can't see that doesn't know what they're talking about."

Your heart fluttered at his words, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot to me."

He reached out, gently squeezing your hand. "Anytime. And remember, you're not alone. We all have different strengths, and together, we make a great team."

You squeezed his hand back, feeling a surge of affection for the man sitting across from you who would never grab anyone else’s hand normally. "I think so too."

As you left the parlor, the evening sun casting a warm glow over everything, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things would be alright. And perhaps, you weren't the only one with feelings that had been hidden for far too long.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #paisleypens

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dadbodbuck · 18 hours

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may i just add to your closeted! Tommy and Buck 1.0. having an affair scenario? confident tommy did not yet exist and buck going around messing around with a bunch of women at the same time would prolly fuck tommy up beyond repair. idk i think in this scenario buck would hold all the cards and tommy would have had no idea how to handle manwhore buck. someone needs to write that fic!

YOUR MIND......... OHHHHHHH MY GOD

i don't know that it would necessarily be infidelity, because i don't think buck 1.0/closeted tommy would have the ability to ask to be exclusive (either of them) but i think you're absolutely right about it DESTROYING tommy. tommy who's finally accepting the whole "not being into women" thing, tommy who's slowly learning all the ways buck is reckless, sweet, kind, self-sacrificing, tommy who's falling a little in love, maybe. buck who is too, but he can't ask tommy to stay - tommy's closeted, and buck gets the feeling it's because he's ashamed of them (he's not, but nobody's going to get buck 1.0 to believe that). buck who can't stand being someone's little secret, tommy who's scared to be anything but. so they're not exclusive.

and buck still sleeps with other people. tommy knows, and never says anything except asking buck to get tested regularly. and it slowly eats away at the both of them - until one day tommy gets an opportunity down at harbor. air support. and he'll miss his friends (he'll miss buck most of all) but he can't pass this up. he loves flying. he wants the chance to start over somewhere new. he wants a clean break from this pretty, lonely, incredible kid who's somehow stolen his heart. they don't promise to keep in touch. to everyone else, it looks like two good work friends saying goodbye.

and then, buck meets abby. and tommy comes out. and eddie happens, maddie happens, chris happens, and suddenly five years have passed, and chimney is leading them into harbor's aircraft hangar with a sly grin on his face. and he turns to buck, and says, "hey, you remember tommy? i called in a favor"

#bucktommy #headcanons #asks

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ninyard · 2 days

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hello I would like the kevallison smut ?? Please

The promised kevallison headcanons (aka how the two of them figure out what the other person is into + how they might go about doing it)

When they start hooking up it’s all pretty standard stuff. Allison gets him off after a game. Kevin eats her out if there’s ten minutes free in between classes and an empty dorm room. They’re a booty call before, during or after a night out, or a no-strings-attached way to get some frustration off their chest. Their friends-with-benefits situation is more often than not just a quick fuck when they’re bored. But it's kind of just… that? It's just fucking. It's a handful of different positions, in a handful of different places, but nothing more than fucking, finishing, and leaving. They don’t feel a need to bring it any further though, in some ways hesitant that the other will catch feelings if it gets too intimate. But from the get-go their agreement is clear - if either starts to get attached, or jealous, or even thinks that it might be worth pursuing, they stop. It doesn’t happen, of course, but in the beginning they really try to err on the side of caution until they know that for certain.

There’s one of two ways that their casual hook ups becomes more... interesting every now and again: one) accidentally. two) intentionally.

If it is accidental, I think they stumble upon the other’s kinks by the Grace of God. It's a quick fuck that turns into something more because one of them picks up on how the other's demeanor changes and they realise oh. oh. That did something for them. The moment when it happens is so intoxicating and sexually charged; So intense at the realisation of how turned on the other person is, that they’re just waiting for someone in the dorm room over, or outside the bathroom at a party, or in the almost-empty parking lot to ask did anyone hear Allison and Kevin fucking last night? For either of them, single and used to quick fucks with strangers that don't mean anything nor have the longevity for experimenting with, getting to dip into their fantasies is unparalleled pleasure.

If it’s accidental, it’s a pleasant surprise for them both, and Kevin and Allison have that in common - they are both incredibly, heavily turned on by their fuck-buddies feeling satisfied. It happens, where sometimes Kevin just wants to be blown without returning the gesture, or where Allison wants to come without having to put in the effort it takes to give back. More often than not, though, whether it be with each other or with other people, they're most satisfied when the other person is satisfied, too. So when the topic of kinks and turn ons is broached, or accidentally revealed, it doesn't matter that it's Kevin, or that it's Allison. When they've been fucking for long enough that they find themselves discovering these things, they're comfortable enough with each other to not feel embarrassed about what happens when they have sex. If it makes her wet, and it keeps him hard, then it doesn't matter. They don't talk about their sex lives outside of when or where it happens - a kink or two isn't going to change that.

For Kevin, sweet submissive baby boy who just lives to be praised - oh, when Allison finds out, it opens this door for changing their dynamics that she hadn't even realised existed. Kevin gets so turned on that he practically melts, and Allison eats it up like it's the hottest thing she's ever laid eyes on.

They've found themselves standing up against a wall in a bathroom at a party somewhere, too many suggestive looks across the room leading to a desperately desired handjob or two, and Kevin is fumbling with the buckle of his belt. He struggles with it for a second, before pulling the black leather out from it's square frame and Allison offhandedly says good job with a laugh as she trails kisses up his neck and her fingers down his stomach. She feels his reaction to her words before she notices how his eyes glaze over with the thoughts in his head; how he stills at her words, how he's yearning through his sigh when she follows with a knowing whisper of oh, you want me to tell you how good you're being?

Him in her hand, the long acrylic nails of her free hand dragging lines down his neck, Allison feels how needy he is and softly purrs in his ear to tell her how much he wants it. It's not lost on him how she plays with him like putty between her tender fingers, but still he looks into her eyes with his eyebrows knitted into each other, too close to argue; The please that escapes his lips trapped in between a gasp and a moan is rebutted with her sultry say it again. I want to hear that pretty voice beg. It takes the stalling of the rhythm in her working hand before he finds the ability to whimper out his desperate please, please, please. She's using her free hand to hold his face still, their eyes locked together, while he can barely keep himself in one piece. Her thumb is soft over his lips, brushing over little gasps and short breaths, holding him while she whispers a question and he falls apart in her hands.

If Kevin loves to be topped by strong women, Allison loves to hear a man moan. And she’s never heard him like this before, his lips drawn apart just inches from hers, one hand steadying himself against the wall and the other tugging and pawing at the skin of the small of her back. She doesn't let him look away as she guides him to climax with her soft words of gentle praise. How pretty he looks when he's trying his hardest to be quiet, how well he's doing at keeping himself composed.

Allsion doesn't care that she's accidentally unlocked this submissive side of Kevin; firstly, he's hot as hell when he's this desperate, and it's not as if she's going to be leaving that bathroom and calling him a good boy on the court, because that's not how this works. She's fucked him angry and she's fucked him needy - the passion of fulfilled fantasy only working on a different level to anything else.

(When he's caught his breath and started to clean himself up, she washes her hands and admires her work; his rosy cheeks burning up as she watches him in the mirror. She pushes herself up onto the vanity, and when he can finally bare to look at her again, she says I'm proud of you with a playful smile. Kevin covers his face to laugh in semi-embarrassment, his head shaking as he finds himself in between her legs. They don't talk about it too much before he returns the favour.)

Then there's, Allison, sweet Allison, who's interests work in harmony like a perfect composed song. We knows she loves to hear the men she sleeps with, but there's two things that really get her going that more often than not go hand in hand - rough sex, and loud sex. Living in dorms, it's hard to indulge, especially the second, but usually she'll just pull him close, with his lips to her ear or hers to his. Allison gets off on hearing the person she's fucking, and Kevin is not an exception to that.

They've somehow had a stroke of luck - an empty house in Columbia and some time to kill. Kevin is on the edge of the bed, and Allison is facing Kevin while sitting on his lap, her knees resting on either side of him, in a skirt that is already so short that it's barely even there. They're making out, and Kevin isn't really thinking, but he slaps her ass - something he'd done once or twice before, but never that hard, never that loud. Allison sits back, hands on his shoulders with her mouth open wide. She doesn't get the chance to finish her questioning what are you doing? Before his mischievous smile curls around, what, this? as he laughs and does it again. When she stands up off of him in a half-protest, shaking her finger at how close he was getting to really getting her going, he follows her up. He stands in front of her with feigned apologies for his boldness. She leans into his kiss, with arms wrapped tight around her waist, but instead of pouting his lips, he picks her up and throws her back onto the bed while she scream-laughs.

Body over body, on top of her then, a hand finds it's way in between strands of shiny blonde. A hand that she takes into hers, guiding his fist to grasp a handful of her hair. When he doesn't hold it hard enough she tugs it gently, keeping his fist closed with her hand around it. Looking down at her, he purses his lips with an oh that pauses his other hand while it pushes up her skirt to touch her over her panties. Reading him while waiting for the laugh that never comes is agonisingly long, as she braces herself for the mortifying conversation that he was not going to be entertaining it. Instead he waits for her hand to trail away before pulling her head, hard, back into the bed. And when she shuts her eyes and parts her lips in pleasure, he is quick to bring his hand up to her chin, tilting her head back. The two smallest of his fingers fingers tuck themselves neatly behind her ear, the other two tight between her jawline and her cheekbone. The ball of his thumb is resting on her chin. She doesn't stop him when his thumb trails down from her cupid's bow and into her mouth. She doesn't stop him when he takes it out hold it around her throat, either. Kevin is careful to scatter wet bruises down her chest where they won't be seen. When he's standing back to take off his pants and she’s lifting her top over her head, he asks, you want it hard? and she responds do you even fucking have to ask?

Her skirt is up over her hips and her thong down her thighs. He’s on his knees with her legs over his thighs, maybe he’s pinning her hands down above her head with one big hand over her little wrists. Headboard banging, unrestrained volume, handprints on ass cheeks and scratches across spines. Allison gets sex-drunk when he manhandles her. It’s sloppy, it’s messy, it’s loud, it’s so hot that it’s on fire. It’s eye-rolling, being in a daze afterwards type of fucking. It’s mascara running down cheeks, how the fuck am I supposed to look anyone in the eye after having that done to me type of fucking. It’s needing to have a shower immediately afterwards type of sweaty, messy fucking.

(It’s probably one of the only times they almost/kind of get caught. Not because of the noise, or the sex itself but because of the aftermath. Andrew and Neil clock INSTANTLY the missing and changed details when they regroup - how Kevin’s hair is freshly washed, how Allison has taken her heavy makeup off leaving only a fresh coat of mascara and some lipgloss remaining. How they can barely look at each other in case it reminds them of what has just happened. Their puffy lips, their general daze. Yeah, they fly a little too close to the sun that time - not enough time afterwards to recuperate from an absolutely dirty, filthy, fucking.)

If it's an intentional thing, a discussion about what they're into, and they know before getting into it/it's a conscious choice/it's intentional/some sort of discussion/WHATEVER? There's a few ways I could potentially see it possibly coming up.

A game of Never Have I Ever or some other drinking game with the group and the discussions of kinks come up; Kevin drinks when somebody mentions a praise kink, or being dominated. Allison drinks when somebody mentions liking it rough. Their looks to each other are quick but knowing, Kevin's raised eyebrows when Allison drinks to say she doesn't mind being degraded, the flick of her eyes when he drinks to say he doesn't mind begging for it.

They don't hang around after hooking up, usually. Clean up, get dressed, and leave. That's the routine. But they're talking afterwards for a little while, and the subject of fantasies comes up, and while shes fixing her makeup and tying up her hair she asks him what's the one thing he'd go crazy for. he considers it for a little bit but then gets embarrassed because it's a way harder thing to talk about when you're not actively turned on or drunk. They offer each other tiny pieces as they joke about it, starting tame before they eventually just say it out straight. (she calls him princess when she's leaving and he calls her a slut before she shuts the door.)

They ask each other outright. Kinda similar to accidentally figuring it out but they ask each other for it instead of the other person just doing something and stumbling upon it. Maybe Kevin asks her to tell him how good he feels and she asks why, are you into that? and they like. talk through it . Do you like it when I ask you this? Can I call you this? Do you like it when I tell you you're doing such a good job? Talking through sex can be so hot and even hearing the questions out loud sets the imagination off on a fucking marathon. Maybe Allison asks can you choke me? and he asks her how she likes it before agreeing. Do you like it when I hold you like this? Do you want me to spit in your mouth? Do you want to shut the fuck up and listen to what you do to me? It's a much more thorough discussion than them simply going oh, i think the other person has [blank] kink, so i'm just gonna go ahead and do that. It's a request, instead. Both of them knowing what they want and knowing how to ask for it? Yeaaaahhhh

#I can’t stress it enough I do not ever think they date #I don’t think they even consider it #they’re so happy with just fucking if there’s no one else around #they don’t get jealous #yeah maybe at some point it happens a little more often than it should #but there’s an end point to it #always has been always will be #also they're both switches #which i know we want kevin to be a bottom soooooo. bad #but look at him #(you can't)#LOOK AT HIM #he fucks #thats just the truth #kevin day #allison reynolds #aftg #all for the game #kevallison #they laugh alot when they hook up #if u cant tell #how do u describe this kind of writing? it’s not a fic #it’s more than a hc I guess but writing like this is not the same as writing like it’s a fic #it’s pure description #so I’d happily write some actual descriptive smut but this is what I’ve got rn instead #mine

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elvestoneanzelote1 · 2 days

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Hello! This is my first time I request. Can you write Aventurine x Male Reader that part of Astral Express? Can you also make it as yandere? Take your time, please don't rush.

Gʀᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢs ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ, As ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ I ᴀᴍ sᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀs, ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ I ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ.

I ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ Aᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴜɴғᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴀᴛᴇʟʏ I ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏᴛ ʜɪᴍ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ.

Aɴʏᴡᴀʏs, Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ Aᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ғʀᴏᴍ Asᴛʀᴀʟ Exᴘʀᴇss.

(Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ sʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ʙᴀsᴇᴅ ᴏɴ Rᴇɴɢᴏᴋᴜ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ sʟᴀʏᴇʀ. I ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʏᴇʙʀᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ somehow... I suppose.)

"Astral Expressers huh?".

Aventurine interest was slightly caught by the trailblazer and no you aren't taking the place of Stelle nor Caelus. Thankfully.

Either way, you had your own reputation among the stars I mean literally you had a reputation to hold onto.

The day Aventurine met you was the day he could confirm on that you both are opposite of each other.

You had family (the astral express) . He doesn't.

You Had a peaceful life (or how he sees) and he didn't at least now...

Your smile and your words were honest yet he...

He wonders how he even gain your trust... Maybe he didn't... Maybe you just... Want to use him perhaps.

Or perhaps... You truly cared for him in a way.

Honest... Truthful may have been sour but at least you don't sugar coat your words. And truthfully... Honestly wanted to be with.

He wonders if he hadn't met you through that day would things be better if he met your earlier?

"Well little expresser, why do you like Hoggin around me? Have I caught your attention too much?"

"Why yes! You have interesting shade of eyes! Like my eyebrows!"

"Ah... I see" he mutter as he squint his eyes... He swore you were too bright for the world.

Heck even Ratio couldn't comeback with you as you were literally too genuine.

He never met someone like you.

If he was a kid still it will bring him... Happiness... Well it does still now.

"Thank you Kind man! I swore to repay you back for the payment!" You exclaimed while eating the eight bowl of rice as he meekly smile.

"It doesn't really not necessary... But I will consider your offer" 'though you won't repay back' his thoughts muddle whether to really believe your word but he let it kept aside.

He for some reason attracted to you like the moon like the sun that shine and wish to be like them...

Perhaps he doesn't mind getting slightly burned by your warmness after all it is not everyday.

He preserve and you attack (just kidding).

I mean more word... Likely... Uhm... You know how to hit his heart unknowingly.

"Is this real?" He asked while slight tucking your eyebrows as you laugh.

"Why? Does it seems weird?"

"I suppose I never saw eyebrows like yours"

"What can i say I am quiet a catch" you laughed as he just sighed.

He doesn't know how positive you are perhaps unaware... No.

That thought went over when the day he saw you fight against him protecting your fellow express friends.

A katana. Like the colour of the flames and the determination of your eyes

Something snap inside his mind when you eventually were concern of him.

Even if he was the one about to hurt all you approach him worried.

You never accuse him for what he have done.

Nor you look at him in betrayal nor disgust.

Just warm and understanding.

"...you know my mother used to tell me... Strong should protect the weak... And since I am strong I want to protect you some way"

"Why"

"Why? Because we are friends now"

"..." He never understood the look of your eyes.

He never felt the love.

He never... Thought he will ever get the feeling of love and protection of sort.

"I do not understand you at all"

"Hmm? Well isn't it awesome then? We all are different but we can understand the other more and more but not completely"

"...huh..."

Irrationality your words were but... For some reason he enjoy your company more and more.

The fact you don't go for logical thinking... Maybe you do... But your kindness... Is something else.

You never get mad either.

Whenever someone been rude of sort you don't be mad instead smile and talk to then happily.

He never thought someone like you exist.

Neither he thought he will experience something like you.

"Y/n... Don't you ever get angry?"

"Hmm? And why should I be?"

"..."

"??".

He never understood you... But he wants to.

He for the fact he does want to learn more and more about you.

He wants to spoil you locking you away from the world... After all... He doesn't want to let go of the warm.

The blaze of warmness around you.

No wonder the astral express friends of yours wanted you to be around them.

Supposedly... They are selfish.

Well... He will to be if he were to apart of the group.

"Y/n"

"Hmm? You seems like you haven't get any sleep?"

"Ah... I just... Had a bad day"

"I see! My mother always tell me a hug can help someone cheer up"

He didn't oblidge of you hugging him. Instead it felt just right.

He doesn't want to let you go.

Can't you stay more?

Why you have to leave?

He can give you everything you want.

Can't you... Let him stay in your warm?

The fact he falls for you... He is not shock.

After all... Who wouldn't.

You are literally something worth the praise.

Will it be selfish... No he wants to be selfish.

You felt a tug on your haori as you turn and look down to see the familar blonde male with his significant glasses.

"Is something the matter buddy?"

"When are you leaving?"

"Well... That depends on them"

"...why do you travel with them for?"

"To find a way home"

"...oh"

'Can't I be your home... No... Perhaps he was never meant to get a home..' He thought to self but his thought halt when you kept a hand on his shoulder.

"And I believe we will meet again buddy"

"...y/n... You could stay here you know Penacony is good in a way and beside I will be happy to help you stay and settle here"

"Why thank you, Aventurine but..." Your gaze fall onto the Astral express members Himeko , Welt and March as the trailblazer was somewhere elsewhere.

"I think I would find a way through them"

"I see..."

"You seems upset"

"Huh? No I am not"

"You don't want me to go?"

"...well it is your wish to leave but... I"

That day... There were two choice made for him.

.....

"Yes I do not want you to leave"

"Hmm?"

"...because I find comfort in you and..."

"..."

"It is your wish to leave but I never had a friend like you so" he grimance by the word friend but... He was glad.

You value the word friendship.

"Sure I will stay for some more days."

"Can it be months?"

"Huh? Uh... Sure I suppose?"

He smile but you notice it was genuine smile of his.

As usual you ruffle his hair yet this time he didn't mention how it takes to make his hair.

Instead he embrace it.

After all... It won't be long that you will be within his.

He finally can have you.

And he will make sure he will.

He will make sure you will come around for him.

After all the sun and the moon... Are admire by all when they come together.

Creating the eclipse.

A:n- thank you take care I hope you rest well.

93 notes · View notes

thehandmaidenofcreativity · 2 days

Text

The Man Who Talks to Himself and the Girl Who Listens

WC: 6.7k

Rating: 18+, fluff to smut

Comments: idol!Seungmin and female reader. This is my first fic.. hope you like it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

•

“That doesn’t even make sense…”

You wouldn’t have heard him if the song hadn’t just ended. For whatever reason, that little bit of muttering caught your interest. You hit pause before the next tune can fill your ears. He’s sitting just behind you. You’re tempted to sneak a peek at what he’s doing. You’re sure he came in alone, so it seems he’s talking to himself.

“Then again, confusion is a higher sense of consciousness...” He trails off.

What a brilliant way of thinking, you muse. He goes on outlining a plan of some sort, maybe for a novel or a play; it’s captivating. Unfortunately, he would stop thinking out loud at some points, but no matter how long the pause, you couldn’t turn your music back on and miss any of his magic. Because that’s what it felt like: magic. He was filling you with such wonder; you could burst.

After a while, he gets a phone call, though, and the show comes to an end. You hear him packing up his things; you watch him stride out of the cafe. Silly as it is, considering you don’t see his face, you think he looks handsome - tall, with broad shoulders and a pretty shade of reddish hair poking out from beneath a baseball cap.

The next day, you decide to return to the cafe. You tell yourself that it’s just a nice, low-key place to get work done and enjoy a few cups of tea, but in the back of your mind, you’re hoping the man will be there again. You arrive half an hour earlier than yesterday and sit at the same table, sipping on blueberry tea with your headphones in, laptop in front of you. Fifteen minutes in, you hear the bell on the door jingle. You try for nonchalance as you glance at the entrance. You hadn’t gotten a good look at him the day before, but you’re sure it’s the same man. To your delight, he brings his things to the table behind you before going to the counter. Despite the mask, you can tell your initial assessment was correct - he’s handsome. He has his hood up rather than a hat today, so you still don’t get the full effect of his hair, just see the slight waves of his bangs covering his forehead. His eyes are quite dark, but nice, and slightly downturned, reminding you of something or someone that you can’t place. How can someone look so good when most of their face is covered?

For the next few hours, you sit transfixed by the man, at times sitting stagnant just listening to him, your own work forgotten. Eventually, you both have to leave, but before you do, you stop by the barista. “Hey, this may be a weird question,” you try to sound as casual as possible. “But does that guy who was at the table behind me come in here often?”

“Yeah, he’s been in here most weekdays,” the girl responded. “But he probably has classes or something on Monday and Wednesday, cause I don’t usually see him then.”

“Cool, thanks.”

Odd as it feels, kind of stalking this man, you continue coming back to the cafe over the next couple weeks, only skipping those days when you’re sure that he won’t be there. At times, you even jot down questions that you’d want to ask him if you could, but you never speak to him. You always sit with your back to him, headphones in, pretending not to listen.

At the end of the week, he gets a phone call. As he heads outside to take it, you hear him say that he’ll be back on the road in about a week and feel a surge of panic for some reason. You realize that you can’t just be the girl who listens anymore.

You flip to the document that holds your questions for him and grab a notebook out of your bag. You quickly jot down the two most recent ones, furtively glancing at the door to check that he’s still on the phone. You can’t decide if you should write your email or your number; you almost can’t believe you’re doing this at all. You add to the top of the page “confusion may be a higher sense of consciousness, but I’m so curious” and write your email to the bottom. One more look at the door tells you that now’s your chance; you quickly set the note in front of his coffee.

While you were somehow brave enough to leave the note, you're certainly not brave enough to hear him read it. You hurriedly collect your things and head for the door. His call must’ve just ended; he opens the door and holds it, nodding at you. You hope your blush isn’t obvious, but even if it is, he must get that all the time. He’d left his mask off when he went outside. He is one of the most handsome men you’ve ever not-actually met. He has a strong, straight nose, and his face is oval shaped - a good mix of masculine and boyish. You kind of hate that he’s giving you that obviously fake, pursed, polite smile instead of a real one, but why wouldn’t he; you’re giving him the same one.

The next night when the notification sounds, you don’t think much of it. You almost decide not to check your email before bed, but something is nudging at the back of your mind. You click into it and see the subject line: Allow me to bring some clarity. You’re a little stunned that he actually wrote you, because it had to be him; who else would it be?

His answers are short, a little cryptic. But he told you that he’s writing music. You have the smallest insight into his head, and you love it. What you aren’t sure about is how you feel about the fact that he clearly knows who you are. Well. Maybe not clearly. He guessed that you’re you, another regular, or the waitress. He also wanted to know if you have more questions. He signed off as ‘Thinking Out Loud’ rather than giving his name. You wonder if you should avoid showing just how long you’ve been stalking him, but you are curious. It’s time to go big or go home. You thank him for his email and copy over the rest of your ‘Questions and Thoughts’ doc. You also consider fessing up, telling him who you are. But you could be mysterious, too. Ultimately, you sign off as ‘the Listener.’

The night passes, then the next day. It’s Monday, so you don’t go to the cafe. The anticipation is killing you. You decide that if he doesn’t respond before the night is over, you just won’t go back. Maybe that’s cowardly, but it would be mortifying. He’d obviously been freaked out by how long you’ve been listening to him. So much for that hobby and unraveling the mystery of Mr. Thinking Out Loud.

The next morning, you see that you received an email around 4 am. He had replied after all. He didn’t answer any questions, though. It simply read: Same time at the cafe today? Smiling like a fool, you get ready for the day and try not to freak out about the invitation. It was an invitation, wasn’t it? You take a little extra care with your appearance - applying a subtle lip stain, a little eyeliner, and mascara.

As usual, you arrive before him. You go back and forth about sitting at ‘your’ table or his. It is possible that he hadn’t been inviting you to truly interact with him. You sit at your own table and somehow manage to focus on your work for a while. You figure you have a bit of time before he arrives, so you head to the restroom. As you’re walking back toward your table, you freeze.

The guy.

He’s sitting there.

At your table.

The seat across from yours.

You force yourself to move. He looks up as you draw near and offers you a small, welcoming smile. And you’d thought he couldn’t get any cuter. You sit as the waitress stops by to drop off his coffee and a fresh tea for you. She winks at you as she walks away.

“I hope you don’t mind; I hear you like the blueberry.” He smiles again and wow. It’s incredible. He extends his hand. “My listener, I presume?”

“You caught me,” you laugh awkwardly, shaking his hand. “I’m sorry if it was weird of me. You just seem so… interesting.”

There’s no way he doesn’t see your blush this time. The corner of his mouth quirks back up. Then he just takes a sip of his coffee and starts talking. You don’t even need to put your headphones on, because this time, he’s talking to you.

•

You both stay longer than usual. Two more rounds of drinks and a couple shared pastries later, you learn that he’s a musician and trying to write a connected story within an album, something he’s never done on his own before. He also, ears reddening, admits to not realizing he talks quite so much while he’s working. He answers your questions, even asks for your feedback and compliments you on your insights. You’ve always loved watching people talk about their passions, and today is no different. He lights up when he talks, practically glowing. If you thought his first smile was nice, then this full, joyful smile is fantastic. And when he laughs? It makes your heart flutter. He’s beautiful.

All too soon, he says that he needs to head out to his next schedule. You finally notice the time, and while you know you should leave, too, you’re sad that this is over. “Same time on Thursday?” you ask meekly.

He smiles at you. You try not to hold your breath. “Sounds good.” He gathers the last of his things, stands to leave, and gives a small wave. “It was great talking to you, Listener.”

You almost tell him your name or ask his, but he’s already walking away.

By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re nearly vibrating with excitement. How can one coffee date, if you can even call it that, get you so eager to meet with a man you barely know? Though in a way you’ve been getting to know him for a while, indirectly. Plus, music can be a very personal expression of one’s self, and that’s clearly his intention considering your first conversation. Two and a half hours before it’s time to leave, however, your light dims.

The subject line of the email reads: ‘Scheduling Conflict.’ He addresses it to ‘My Listener.” My listener. You’re beaming and feel incredibly silly about it. Your smile falls again, though, as you read the rest of the email. He lets you know that he won’t be at the cafe today, and he didn’t want you to show up and think he stood you up. He thinks that he’ll be able to meet you tomorrow, but will let you know if things change. Things at work are picking up for him, it seems. You try not to be too disappointed and resolve to be much more chill about the situation tomorrow; it’s literally just coffee with an attractive man who seems very intelligent and kind. Right.

So with take two on Friday, you stay busy and try not to think too much about him. Still, you can’t help being excited; you practically bounce into the cafe. He’s not here yet, but he didn’t email today, so you’re optimistic. Despite already brimming with nervous energy, you decide to have a latte today. You settle in with it at your table when the bell on the door rings. He’s sporting a black bucket hat today; it’s a great look.

“Coffee today, huh?” He takes his mask off as he sits, offering that brilliant smile. “What’s your order?”

“Oh, it’s a blonde, breve vanilla latte,” you smile back but notice that he doesn’t have his customary bag of writing materials. Your smile fades a little.

He grimaces a bit. “Sounds too sweet and milky.” He signals to the waitress and she brings him his customary americano without him even needing to order it. “So there’s been a little change in plan again today. I can’t stay too long, but I didn’t want to cancel on you again.”

It’s sweet that he made time for you, but you are disappointed. You remember overhearing him saying he’d be on the road next week, so who knows how long it'll be before you might see him again. If you’ll see him again at all. But you said you’d be chill today, so chill you will be! You talk more about the concept of his album, asking and answering questions and offering suggestions and compliments. All too soon, your cups are empty.

He checks his phone and gives a wry smile. “I need to head out… See you around.” As he stands and moves to leave, he looks back at you thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t be interested in getting a drink with me tonight, would you?”

You hope your smile isn’t too wide. “I’d love to, do you have somewhere in mind?”

He jots down an address and his number on the back of his receipt. “Great. I’ll see you at 9? Just call me when you get there, I’ll meet you out front.” He gives you one last smile before he puts on his mask and heads for the door. Across the bottom of the slip, he’d also written his name. Seungmin.

•

You consider trying to look him up before your date. It is a date this time for sure, right? You hadn’t told any friends about him yet, ‘cause you still felt a little like a stalker, but you need help. When Hana arrives at your apartment, you immediately spill the entire story.

“You never took any pictures of him?” She laughs. “What kind of third-rate stalker are you?”

“Hey! I tried my best not to be creepy… or any creepier than I was already being.” You get out two tops and a dress. “Okay, so I don’t wanna seem like I’m trying too hard, but I wanna look good. What do you think?”

She considers your options. “I’d go with the lilac. It gives you a decent amount of cleavage without being too slutty. What bottoms are you thinking?”

You pull out a pair of dark wash jeggings and black wide-legged pants. “Is it too much flowy or do the black ones work?” Ultimately you decide on the jeggings - as Hana said, they do much more for your ass. She consults on your hairstyle and make-up choices, and by the time you’re ready, your nerves have skyrocketed. “Am I crazy for doing this? Like he seems really nice, but I don’t know anything about him. And he seems young.”

“Oh, you stop that!” Hana rolls her eyes at you. “It’s been forever since you went out with someone. And so what if he’s a little young! Might be a good change of pace; he’ll have lots of energy.” She winks at you and laughs. She might be right. You hope so. Then, just like that, it’s time to head out. As you part ways, Hana offers a few last words of encouragement, “You’ll be fine! Just relax and have fun. If it sucks, it sucks, and you never have to see him again. But if it’s great, it might be the start of a fun adventure!”

You’re nearly to the bar, so you pull up his contact. Seungmin. Not for the first time, you wish he’d given you his last name as well. You might’ve been able to cyber-stalk him as well.

He answers on the second ring. He tells you he’ll be out front, and as you near the bar, you see him step out onto the sidewalk. He asks if you’re close, and you speed up a little. You tell him you are, then hang up; he looks down at his phone, head cocked to the side, clearly confused. You tap him on the shoulder and watch as his expression changes. Even with his mask on, you can tell when his smile lands. You meet it with one of your own.

“Shall we?” Seungmin offers his arm like a gentleman leading a lady out onto the ballroom floor. Once inside, you follow him past the bar and out the back door into an alley. Before you can question him, he points over to the right. A couple meters away, you spot a black door sporting red flourishes. He knocks out a slightly complicated rhythm, and one of the red designs opens to reveal a pair of eyes.

It’s a speakeasy. He brought you to a speakeasy. You didn’t even know that they had speakeasies anymore, though you suppose that’s the point. How does he know about it? He gives the password - flufflebuzz - and you make your way inside. It’s as you’d expect, a bit dark with a masculine, leather-based design scheme. There are small groups gathered around cocktail tables or in the booths lining the walls. Light jazz music floats through the space, covering conversations but not loud enough to make it difficult to have one.

Seungmin leads you to a booth in the back, saluting the bartender on his way. Once you’re settled, he takes off his mask and lets out a little sigh. “I hope this is alright; I know it’s a little different.”

You realize that he’s nervous, which calms you down a little bit. “This is so cool,” you smile at him, gesturing to the bar. “I’ve never been anywhere like this! How did you find it?”

“Oh, some people I work with introduced me to it,” he blushes as he tells you. Another little mystery. “Most people in here work in my industry.” As you turn to take a look around, the waitress arrives with two drinks in hand. They’re yellowish with a creamy foam on top. Seungmin thanks her before you can say that you haven’t ordered yet. “It’s a tradition here, your first drink is up to the bartender, but if you don’t like it, don’t feel like you have to drink it.”

“Well, that’s fun!” You give the drink a sniff. It smells fruity, though you expected that. You can’t figure out what its base is, though. You dip your pinky in a little bit. If Seungmin notices, he doesn’t comment on it. Your nail color doesn’t change, so you know it’s safe to drink. You pick up your glass and Seungmin clinks his to yours. You take a tentative sip. It’s good, a mix of sweet and sour. Seungmin makes a face, though. You laugh. “Not quite your style?”

“And he knows that,” Seungmin smiles at you before catching the bartender’s eye and flipping him off. They both laugh, and the bartender heads over, beer in hand.

“Not about the passionfruit?” The bartender slides the fresh drink in front of him. Seungmin just narrows his eyes at him. “I know, too sweet. I had to try, though. Now we’re being rude. Don’t wanna scare off your friend here. I suppose you’re really not a fan, huh?” He directs the question to you.

“Oh no, I love passionfruit. I think this is great.” You give him a polite smile, but they share an odd look and laugh.

The bartender picks up Seungmin’s discarded drink and takes a sip. “Happy to hear it. Could be good for you, Min. You guys have a good night.” With that, he gives a quick wink and walks off, joining another table rather than going back behind the bar where you see another bartender has materialized. You’re more than a little confused.

“I’m sorry about that. Chan Hyung is…” Seungmin looks thoughtfully in the direction Chan went. “A little over-protective. He just wanted to see that you weren’t… That you seemed alright. Sorry, I know that’s vague.”

“It’s fine,” you offer. Though you are still a little lost, you can understand looking out for a friend. “So is he not actually a bartender, or…?”

Seungmin laughs again. Now that you’re alone, you’re able to appreciate the sound of it a bit more. “No, not really. We’re just friends with him, and every now and then Chan likes to try his hand at making drinks somewhere that has a greater variety of ingredients. It’s for the best that they let him; the kitchen would be even more of a mess if he got stuff to make drinks at home. Anyway, enough about him, I wanna learn more about you.”

You blush a little at that and start answering the usual ‘get to know you’ type questions. You try to turn them back to him, but he deflects or quickly asks you follow-ups most of the time. He remains a bit of a mystery. You learn that he works with Chan, but doesn’t live with him - he has other roommates over at the other table, though; he has an older sister, which prompts a question that he answers easily for once.

“I’m 23,” he looks down at his drink, and you can just barely see his ears reddening in the dim light. “Not too young, I hope?” Though you haven’t explicitly told him your age, he clearly recognizes that you’re older than him. Despite not getting too many personal details, you are really starting to like him. And you’re pretty sure that confirms that he likes you, too.

“Not too young at all,” you smile. When your phone buzzes for the fourth time, he tells you to check it and heads for the restroom, stopping at Chan’s table on his way. He almost immediately erupts in the most endearing laugh with the lot of them. He looks so at ease with his friends, making you realize that he has seemed a bit nervous with you.

You look down at your phone to see multiple texts from Hana asking how it’s going, where you are, if you need rescuing. You let her know that you’re fine, having fun, and that you were right about him being younger. She immediately responds, asking if you’re planning on “closing the deal tonight then?” with a wink. At that, you put your phone away and look up to see that Seungmin's on his way back. The rest of the date goes on smoothly, moving from personal details to passions and interests; Seungmin answers a bit more freely now, his face lighting up the way it did in the cafe.

Before you know it, a waitress stops by to let you know it’s nearly time for last call. You’re both a bit surprised. “Wow, it’s gotten late fast,” Seungmin rubs at the back of his neck, looking down and biting that perfect lower lip. Hana’s question earlier pops into your mind and now you’re blushing, too. “Would it be too corny if I said I didn’t want the night to end?”

It’s a wonder you can suppress the gigantic smile you know is trying to burst out. “Not at all, I’m having a great time, too.” You consider the table of his friends and roommates over at the other table. Seungmin probably won’t want to ask you to go back to him apparent with so many others potentially being there. You hope you sound casual. “We could always go somewhere else for a bit. Take a walk or have a nightcap at my place or something.”

His eyes meet yours again as he nods, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

•

The walk back to your apartment is a little quieter than you expected. The closer you get, the more nerves build up. After a few minutes, his hand brushes yours a couple times before he interlocks his fingers with yours. You don’t try too hard to suppress your smile when you see his. As you enter, you gesture to the couch then you head toward the kitchen, running through the rest of the place in your mind, trying to remember if you may have left anything embarrassing out. “What can I get you? Another beer?”

“Actually, I was thinking it might be time to switch to coffee if you have any,” he ventures; he follows you to the kitchen and clearly notices your lack of coffee machine.

You grimace slightly. “I know it’s not very good, but I think I have some leftover instant?” His face tells you that it sounds as bad as you feared it might. “Sorry, I’m more of a tea drinker.”

“Blueberry?” He jokes, or at least you think it’s a joke. He’s lost some of the joviality he had at the bar, becoming a little harder to read. “I like to have tea now and then. Could I have something black?”

He agrees to try some lady grey and asks to look around while you put the kettle on. By the time you come out with your mugs, he’s sitting on the couch. He looks much more uncomfortable now. You don’t know if you should be offering to turn on the TV or some music; it’s been so long since you’ve had a date over. What will make things less awkward?

Luckily he saves you from having to decide; he asks if he can show you a music video. You pull up youtube on your TV and hand him the remote. The video he pulls up is titled ‘Stray Kids "특(S-Class)" M/V’ and asks, “I’m guessing you’ve never heard of them?” When you shake your head no, he turns to face you more fully. “How do you feel about how tonight went? Would you be interested in seeing me again?”

This feels abrupt, and he still looks so nervous. You give him a smile. “Tonight has been wonderful, and I’d love to go out again.” You expect him to relax a little, but if anything he tenses up a bit more.

“Me too. I just… need to tell you something first.” Instead of saying whatever it is, he hits play on the video. You consider his profile, as he’s actively not looking at you. Your head snaps to the TV when the voice starts singing. You suppose if it’s this important to him, you might as well watch. For a second you think you recognize the guys in the group, but you’re not sure why. Around 30 seconds in, you know that you’re looking at Seungmin’s friend Chan on the screen. You shoot him a questioning look, but he’s still focused on the video. About 10 more seconds and you understand why he’s so nervous. Your jaw drops. This time when you look at him, he pauses the video.

He’s still not looking at you when he speaks, suddenly very interested in his tea. “I would really like to see you again. To get to know you better.” He glances up at you, finally, then nods back at the TV. “But it can be really hard to do that when that’s your job.”

You really don’t know what to say. The best you can come up with is, “You sing so well.” Your stupidity breaks the tension a bit; he laughs then you do. “Sorry, I don’t know what to think right now. I know you said you like K-pop at the bar, I just didn’t realize that you, like, are K-pop. Wow. That’s really awesome.”

He laughs again. “Well, that’s one way to put it. I know I just kinda dropped a bomb on you. I can go so you can have time to think about it.”

Your “no” probably comes a little too quickly. “You haven’t finished your tea... Plus, I don’t want you to leave. I’m not sure I even know what to consider about it.”

He gives you a small smile before taking a sip from his mug. “Well, there are a few things to think about. I’m not allowed to date publicly. So if we continued to see each other, it would have to be a secret. And I travel a lot. I’m usually a lot busier; these last few weeks we’ve been on a short break. It would be hard to see each other too often.”

It does sound difficult. Maybe too difficult to consider with someone you just met. But you haven’t connected with someone like this in a long time. He seems like a great guy, he wants to keep seeing you, and he’s so, so handsome. His gaze is on his hands, giving you the opportunity to study his face without feeling self conscious. As your eyes trace his features, you imagine never getting to listen to him write music again, never getting to watch his face light up as he answers one of your questions about it, never hearing him laugh again. As he pulls that beautiful bottom lip between his teeth and raises his head to meet your eyes again, you know what you want. In the morning, this will probably all seem a bit crazier, but for now… you place your hand on his. You lean in and gently press a kiss to his lips.

You pull back and look into his eyes. Time stops for just a moment as you look at each other. You can see the desire in his stare; it matches your own. Then his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you again. His calluses surprise you - you can feel the roughness of them as one hand trails its way down your body and the other snakes back to grip your neck. As his tongue brushes your lip, your mouth opens a bit more in invitation; he accepts, deepening the kiss, his tongue mingling with yours. His hands trace your curves before pulling you closer and you wrap your arms around him. Each movement is insistent, bordering on frantic, as if you can’t get enough of each other. You want to dive into him. He clearly feels the same.

One moment he’s gripping your thigh and the next you’re straddling him, grinding against his growing erection, while his fingers dig into your ass. You pull back and look at him. You’re both breathing heavily. His hands are on your hips now, thumbs rubbing small circles. Your hands are on his shoulders, coasting down to rest on his biceps.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to -” he starts, but you cut him off.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you smile at him. “Plus, I did kiss you first.”

“I meant to give you more time to think about all this.” He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

You give him another quick kiss. “I don’t think I will, regardless of where we go from here. And I do want to see you again. I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. So for now, do you think we can just see how this goes?”

He considers you for a moment, those dark eyes boring into yours. He looks so serious, you can’t guess what he’s thinking. Then the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You give him a smile of your own and lean in for another kiss. You sigh into his mouth as his hands slide under your shirt. Your hands find their way into his hair as he grips your waist tightly before pushing your shirt up. You break the kiss to let him take it off, and he shakes his head again before cocking it to the right as he studies you.The look he’s giving you makes you think of a puppy. It’s so adorable and somehow only adds to his sexiness. “You’re really beautiful, noona.” He gives your waist another squeeze as he says it, but his grin starts to falter. “Are you sure about this?”

Your face heats a little at the honorific. Your gaze wanders from his face, down to your seat on his lap, and back up. You roll your hips, savoring the feel of his hard length beneath you. “I’m sure.”

With a small groan, he shocks you by standing up and guiding you to wrap your legs around his thin waist. Your apartment isn’t huge, and he already took a look around, so he knows just where to go. In seconds, you’re on your bed with his weight on top of you. He grinds his hips into yours as he takes your mouth again.

In a flurry of lips and tongues and teeth, you pull at his shirt, needing to touch his skin. He pulls back long enough to pull it over his head, then his lips find your neck while your hands explore his bare back. You should worry about getting a hickey, but all you can think of is how each suck and bite at your neck sends a burst of fire through your body.

A thought strikes you, “I’m - ah - I’m, I’m clean, by the way.”

Seungmin grins, relishing the fact that he’s made it difficult for you to utter a simple sentence. “I am, too.” With that, his lips move south, nipping at the tops of your breasts before he pulls one of the cups down, locking his mouth onto your nipple. He sucks, tongue flicking and circling, while his hands make their way underneath you in an attempt to remove your bra. You arch into his touch, giving him room to work. Once your bra is off, he moves immediately to work on your leggings.

Just like that, you’re fully bared to him, and he finally slows down. He’s kneeling between your legs, just taking you in. You take the opportunity to study him a bit as well. He’s obviously got some muscle, but he’s not built - it fits him. His shoulders are broad, kind of like a swimmer’s. Your gaze drifts down to the considerable bulge in his pants, and you really can’t wait to see the rest of him. Before you can sit up to continue undressing him, he’s back on you. He kisses his way from your lips to your chest, down your stomach, all the while murmuring how beautiful you look, how sexy you are. He nibbles at your inner thigh, eyes on yours.

“Is this okay?” At this point, it feels a little like a silly question, but those puppy dog eyes are back, so you can’t tease him about it.

“Yes, are you–”

Yes was all he needed to hear. The eager thing dives right in, lapping at your clit with a flat tongue before swirling it in circles. He’s barely begun and you’re already starting to squirm, his strong grip on your thighs heightening the experience. You can’t help but let out a small moan. Your hands move into his hair of their own accord. As he laps at your core, pushing you towards your release, your grip tightens.

He pulls back, and you suppress a whimper. He licks his lips and gives you a heart-melting smile. “Does hair pulling mean I’m doing well or do I need to change tactics?” His thumb makes its way to your clit, doing lazy circles as he asks.

It takes you two tries to answer. “Ye-yes, hair pulling means it’s good. Do you mind it?”

His grin widens. “Pull away.” He’s sucking and licking now, driving you wild. You have fistfuls of his hair and, despite his permission, are fighting not to pull. Then he inserts a finger into you, another quickly follows. Your grip tightens again, you let out a gasp, and you can feel his smile. His fingers are curling, massaging into just the right spot as he sucks at your clit again. When you thrust up to meet his mouth, his other arm shifts across your hips and pushes them back down. Your head spins as he adds a third finger. He’s not letting up, pushing you into the stratosphere. An endless stream of moans and gasps spill from your lips and a tear trickles down the side of your face.

“Oh.. Min,” you cry as you come. He slows but doesn’t stop as your body tenses and shakes, clenching around his fingers. As the trembling subsides, he withdraws his fingers and climbs his way back up your body, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses. He licks his lips again, then wipes his dripping chin before licking his fingers.

“You taste good.” And you can taste yourself as his lips find yours again. “I like when you call me Min.”

“Please,” your hand finds his bulge, pulling at him while the other starts to pull at his waistband. You’re not usually so needy, but your orgasm has only made you want him more. “Please, I need you inside me.”

His eyes darken at that. You almost wonder if you might’ve put him off with your begging as he pushes up off the bed. He keeps his eyes on yours for a moment then starts unbuttoning his pants. “Say it again.”

“Please,” you sit up to take over, freeing his length with a tiny gasp. You could tell he was big before, but seeing it is another story. An ache pulses in your core at the thought of him filling you up. “I need you, Min.”

There’s been a shift in him. He’s not moving as frantically, the look on his face is devastating - so serious, his eyes full of pure desire. He slowly positions himself back between your legs, a hand on your chest, slowly pushing you down onto your back again. He drags the head of his cock through your folds before rubbing it on your clit then settling it back at your entrance. He leans down, one hand posted next to your head, while the other holds himself steady, and his lips caress yours. He pulls back slightly, forehead on yours, gaze boring into you.

You know what he wants. “Fuck me, Seungmin, please.”

His eyes are still locked on yours as his body shifts, pushing into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. Your breath hitches and a soft moan escapes your lips. That flips his switch. His lips move roughly against yours as he starts to thrust. He quickly falls into a rhythm, and now it’s his hand fisting into your hair. You break the kiss so that you can suck at his neck. He sighs, but backs out of your reach. “I can’t, ah, I can’t have any visible marks.” You pull his mouth back to yours, your other hand grasping at his back. Seungmin slips a hand between you, his thumb finding your clit, and you feel yourself winding up again. As you meet each of his thrusts, you can’t control the mewling gasps coming out of your mouth. Soon you’re moaning his name again, and he’s breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. His movements become more erratic as you both approach your limits. You squeeze around him as you come again, and it sets him off at a faster pace.

“I’m going to, ah, I’m going to come,” he groans. “What do I, ah, where do I…” he straightens as he pulls out and you scramble to sit up and grab at him. He lets you take over pumping him while you quickly resituate yourself. You get your mouth around him and can barely move before his hand is back in your hair, and the other grips your shoulder tightly. You can tell he’s holding back to let you stay in control as you try to swallow him down without gagging (too much). Your name falls from his lips as he finishes; his hold on you loosens, and you both relax back. His hands move to cup your face gently, brushing away the tears you hadn’t noticed escaping. “Are you alright?”

You smile up at him, resting your hands on his thighs. “I’m fine. More than fine. You’re just a little big.”

He chuckles before ghosting a kiss over your lips. “As long as I didn’t hurt you.” He lays down then, pulling you with him. With your head on his chest, his hand tracing circles on your back, you start to drift off.

•

#kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin #seungmin x you #seungmin x reader #skz seungmin #skz fluff #skz smut #skz x reader #skz fanfic #seungmin

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muchosbesitos · 2 days

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝

pairing: suguru geto x fem reader, satoru gojo x fem reader

contents: some angst, sorta kinda follows canon, smut, oral (f+m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, some marking (pls lmk if i missed smth)

synopsis: you and suguru are so undeniably in love and all satoru can do is wish for that to be him.

author’s note: one day i’ll stop writing angst, not today tho 🗣️

word count: 10.8k (i may have yapped too much, i’m sorryy)

"What?"

The word came out strained, the sight of Yaga blurry by your own tears. The paper in your hands threatened to fall with each shake of your fingers, the paper that you were hoping was just a cruel joke. But no matter how many times you forced yourself to read through the paper, the contents of it stayed the same. The words had practically imprinted themselves into your brain by now, yet you desperately hoped that maybe you'd read it wrong.

Yaga looked at you with a pained expression, "Don't make me repeat myself, please." You almost wanted to commend him for his acting skills and the dedication that he held towards making this a believable prank, yet you already knew at the back of your head that this was anything but that. That the words printed onto the paper were true- that the man you loved the most was set to be executed.

Labeled as the worst curse user.

You looked over at Gojo standing next to him, the same expression of pain painted across his features. Even his eyes seemed more dimmed down than usual.. if that was somehow possible. You wanted to shake him for some kind of answer, yet you could see your expression clearly mirrored onto his face. "No, no, you're lying. This prank isn't that funny anymore," you shook your head, almost as if that would remove the knowledge from your head.

How he could be that and still be the same man that wiped away your tears from the corner of your eye with his thumb, whispering silent reassurances that you'd be okay. That he'd always be here for you whenever you needed him. The same man who'd cheeks had flushed pink when he asked you on a date one March afternoon, dusting a cherry blossom off your shoulder as he anticipated your answer was the same one who'd murdered those people. There was no way that it was him, right?

As much as you wanted to delude yourself into believing that the information was false, the mounting evidence piling up was proving to make that task difficult. You knew he must've had a reason for it, that he didn't just go on a rampage for some form of twisted fun like many others had made it seem. At least, you desperately wished he had a reason as bad as it made you seem. The knowledge of this didn't remove the years that Suguru had spent with you, the amount of memories that the two of you accumulated throughout.

"I know that you both have fond memories with him, but you have to remember that he still has to be executed for what he's done," Yaga's voice turned into a dull tone, almost static as you tried to let the situation compute. He continued talking, probably about how to go about capturing him successfully but you couldn't bring yourself to pay attention to this conversation. The walls of the temple seemed to be closing in on you, every breath that you were taking weighing heavy on your body.

"Wait, we're not do-" you heard Gojo start off before Yaga dismissed him by saying, "Just let her go for now."

You weren't even sure when you started running, all that you knew was that you needed to leave. You looked up to see Shoko standing next to you, an unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth while she held out a sheet of paper out. She gestured for you to take it, simply stating, "He left that for you." You thanked her for the paper, debating on wanting to cherish it or open it right away. What if you regretted not opening it? What if it was something important?

Eventually your curiosity won the best of you, your nimble fingers starting to open the piece of paper. A small breath escaped from your lips as you willed yourself to try to read the words on the paper. "I'll leave you to that," Shoko told you before she headed out, her head peeking through the door. His handwriting looked messier than usual, almost as if he were scribbling the note in a rush. It was an apology, not an explanation like you'd hoped for.

Tears flowed down freely as much as you tried to hold them back, your hands gripping the sheet of paper. You had enough self control not to rip it up with the force you were holding it, wanting to savor the last item he'd left for you. 'I'm sorry' didn't seem to make up for the fact that he'd abandoned you, after he promised that he'd be willing to stay no matter what. You weren't sure how long you were crying for, only looking up when Shoko extended a tissue towards you.

What was his purpose of being a Jujutsu sorcerer?

Suguru found himself contemplating this question more often that not, the amalgamation of everything that happened throughout the course of the past year making his head spin. The own morals that he'd tried to convince Satoru of were starting to falter. All the deaths that had occurred becoming a taboo subject, everyone recognizing the efforts that they each put into maintaining the order of society without taking the time to remember them as a person.

Was all that he was meant for? Just another cog in a machine that wouldn't be mourned after his passing? A body added to a countless pile for a meaningless sacrifice?

Every single one of his actions seemed pointless in the grand scheme of things. No matter how many times he had to put up with the rancid aftertaste of absorbing curses, more would just end up popping up. How every single person he'd lost in his life had died with some type of regret, some type of longing to do something with their life. All whilst humans lived their lives blissfully unaware of the messes they create.

The only thing keeping him afloat was you and even he was conscious enough to know how selfish it was. Of seeing the small frown that would take form on your face after he lied once more about how he was doing, that he was just tired. Of only sharing small pieces of information about the big mess that was unraveling in his head, just enough so that you wouldn't be scared of him. Just enough to still keep you close to him. "Just don't feel like eating," was what he'd told you when you noted his drastic weight loss.

So when Yaga had called him into his classroom and said, "There's a disturbance in a nearby village. I need you to check it out," Suguru didn't hesitate to agree. As much as Yaga tried to reassure him that it was fine if he didn't feel up to it, that Satoru would take over. The train ride to the village had been quiet despite the amounts of people that stood beside him, too distracted in his own thoughts. Every once in a while he'd hear a, "So let me tell you what happened" or a "You would not believe this."

All so self absorbed. Disgusting.

The scent of burning flesh would be something that imprinted itself in his brain forever. It was supposed to be a simple mission, he kept repeating to himself. Just absorb the curse and go. But how would he be able to live with himself knowing that while the villagers thanked him, two little girls were getting crucified for the very same thing that he was. The blurry path that he'd been trying to navigate for months now seemed all the much clearer, every last bit of resistance melting away.

There isn't anything he could really say to justify his actions- not that he's trying to. But he was running off autopilot from the moment that he saw the two girls locked up in a cage, treated like circus animals. He could feel his anger flare up as the two gripped each other, whispering promises about how they'd be good, how they wouldn't use their technique for anything evil. How these little girls had convinced themselves that they were capable of evil was beyond him.

He was certain that he'd left close to zero residuals when he left the village, escaping off to a cabin in the woods with the two girls holding on desperately to him. A knock on the door startled him from that certainty, every single thought in his head starting to spiral. Surely if someone was here to execute him, they wouldn't bother with knocking on the door? Or maybe that's what they wanted him to think? He was running out of time, the knocks on the door becoming more and more persistent.

"Run. Don't come back," he whispered to the girls, getting down to their level when they walked over to him. He knew that this was to be awaited but he wouldn't stand for taking them down with him.

"But Master G-"

"Run!"

He steadied his breathing, clenching and unclenching his fists in an attempt to calm himself down. He opened the door to see you, your fist raised like you were about to go for what seemed to be the thousandth knock on the door. He let out a small breath of relief, barely registering that it was you in front of him. He'd come to terms with the idea of never seeing you again, unless it'd be at his death bed. Though, he couldn't deny that this was a nice surprise.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, watching as you stepped inside of the cabin like you owned the place. Well, at least you'd been courteous enough to remove your shoes by the door. "I'm here to see you, obviously," you responded, picking up the basket of food that before handing it over to him. You glanced around the small cabin, the space devoid of anything other than clothes and empty food wrappers. You made a mental note to pick up more food for him the next time you came over.

He warily grabbed the basket, inspecting the items inside before going over to place it on a counter in the kitchen. "If you expect me to have some kind of repentance towards what I've done, I don't," he didn't seem remorseful in the slightest, talking about the events like it was just today's weather. "I haven't said anything about repentance, nor am I expecting that," you assured him, taking a seat on one of the chairs in the living room.

"Then what are you doing here?"

What were you doing here? You'd convinced yourself that you were just coming here for an explanation, that you'd demand for some kind of answer and leave immediately. But it felt like being with him all over again, the same comfortability that you'd grown too accustomed to. You wanted to prolong your stay and bask in his presence for a little while longer. "I missed you," you managed to tell him after he'd been expecting an answer for a couple seconds, his face contorting into one of shock just a millisecond. Enough for you to notice though.

"You didn't misread the reports or anything?"

You shook your head before speaking again, "I'm aware of what you've done. I'd like to believe that you wouldn't have done that without any reason though. Even so, I still love you Suguru. It's hard to stop just because of what some words on paper say."

“It’s not just words on paper. People lost their lives because of me.”

You wanted to say something more, but what could you really say? He was trying to convince you that the same monster that the stories weaved, despite how much you wanted to believe otherwise. "Then explain it to me. If you think I'm gonna run away, I'm not. But don't keep me in the dark then."

He hesitated for a bit, almost as if it was worth going through the retelling of the events. After seeing you stay in your seat, he eventually decided to sit down across from you. "I've been.. struggling with wanting to keep non sorcerers safe. A part of me hates them with every fiber of my being, hating them for being so ignorant yet another part of me wanted to savor in the vulnerability that they also have," he started off, your hands clasping his as he spoke. He continued to tell you what happened, your fingers gently grazing over his skin as a form of reassurance.

Two girls came out of the bedroom, timidly shuffling their feet against the wooden floor as they walked over to Suguru. They hid behind his back, barely peeking their head out to get a glimpse of you. Trying to analyze if you were a threat, if you had to assume. "She's the one I told you about, you have nothing to worry about," Suguru reassured them, gently running his hands through their hair. With the way they leaned into his touch, you had no doubt that he'd be willing to protect them.

"I'm sorry about their behavior, they're not exactly used to people being kind to them," he spoke up after a while, seeing how hesitant they were to even move an inch away from him. "It's alright, what are their names?" You inquired, giving the girls a small wave. They hid their faces into the thick material of his robes, a small chuckle eliciting from his lips. He stayed in the kitchen where the girls felt safe, asking about the students from the school and answering your own questions. Whether it be about the girls or about him.

You stood by the door, unwilling to leave just yet even if you could tell that Suguru was aching for you to return back to the school. "Just have a little faith in me, please," you told him just low enough to reach only his ears. Though he didn't verbally acknowledge your statement, his expression softened just the slightest bit. "Have some faith that I'm willing to stay with you," it was a lot to ask from him, you realized that. But you wanted him to know that you had no intention of leaving him, even now.

Suguru found himself doing just that, your visits to the cabin becoming more and more frequent. Well, as frequent as they could get without any of the higher ups getting suspicious. They started off as friendly visits, quickly evolving into evenings spent with the girls. Whether it be playing some board game that just came out or watching a movie on the old TV mounted on the wall. Featherlight kisses turned into heated make out sessions after the girls fell asleep. He knew he loved you, even before he left.

But now, he was finding it extremely difficult to think of the future without including you. You got along with the girls fairly well after passing the initial awkwardness, introducing them to new shops that quickly became their favorites. It was endearing the way you took the time to memorize what they'd liked and indulge them in what they asked from you. "She makes you happy and she's nice to you, we wouldn't oppose to it," Nanako had told him when he brought up the idea of marriage to the two of them.

You'd come home from a shopping trip with the girls, finding their behavior to be a bit too suspicious for it to be normal. They'd pushed you to get your nails done and get some new clothes- a semi-formal dress and a rather expensive pair of heels that made you grimace when paying for them at the register. Every time that you'd try to coax them for an answer though, they'd usually end up bursting into little giggles and completely diverting you from the question.

"Thank you girls," you recognized Suguru's voice from the distance, your ears pricking up when you heard the subtle scuffling of shoes. "You can take off the blindfold now," you started taking the cloth off at his command, blinking a couple times to get adjusted to the atmosphere around you. The overgrown weeds that'd been growing out of control for the last couple months were trimmed down to a respectable height and fairy lights hung up from a couple tree branches.

"What's the occasion?" You inquired, stepping closer to him to make out his figure a bit more clearly. In the distance, you could see a small table set up for two at the edge of a small stream. "Can't I just treat you to some dinner?" You raised a brow at his question, taking a seat at the table when he pulled the chair back. "Well yes, but it just seems very impromptu."

By the time dessert had rolled around, you'd forgotten about the initial suspicion that had been lingering in the back of your head. He came out with a plate of cake, putting his slice down on the table before placing yours down in front of you. "Before you start eating the cake, please read the frosting," he told you before he went to take a seat. You complied with his request, reading in the girls' sloppy handwriting- Will you marry me?

"Wait what?" You asked, looking up from the cake to where Suguru was supposed to be sitting. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of him on one knee, holding out a ring. "It's not much.. but I promise to love you and cherish you. To continue to fulfill my promise of staying by your side."

You didn't trust the words to come out of your mouth without the syllables coming out all broken, simply nodding. Of course, that wouldn't do for Suguru. "C'mon baby, let me hear it. Let me hear that you agree to be my wife," he tried to coax out a verbal response out of you, relishing in seeing you in such a state. "Yes, I'll marry you," you responded after a couple seconds, willing the excitement to die down. He placed the ring on your finger, placing a kiss on your hand when he went to stand up.

Enchanting.

That was the only word Suguru had in mind when it came to you, the sight of you almost too much to bear at times. It wasn't just you, no. It was all the little parts of yourself that he loved, even those parts of yourself that you hated. He'd never thought of himself as a loving person but you just made him want to cherish you as long as he possibly could. He was stupid enough to think that he could've ever gotten over you. No matter how many years passed by, he was certain that the love he felt for you would never dim.

The sight of Mimiko and Nanako tossing flowers down the altar had almost been too much for his heart to bear, especially with the grin that the girls carried on their face. It truly melted his heart that they were so accepting to include you in their small family. Everything about this wedding was almost like a fairytale brought to life. He'd almost expected to wake up from this dream, yet the moment never came. You were truly a vision brought to life and now you were doing him the honor of being his wife. His.

You stepped onto the altar next to him, the moment seeming all too real when you stepped up. He could hear his heartbeat ringing through his ears, the anticipation of having the honor to call himself your husband seeping through. "Don't cry," Suguru could almost hear Satoru's retort, the thought fleeting as he rolled his eyes. Though Imaginary Satoru did hold a valid point, just seeing you was too much to bear. The dress fit you like a glove, accentuating every curve and contour of your body.

Despite having the area sanitized thoroughly before the ceremony, to the point where the smell of Lysol was starting to get intoxicating, he still couldn't help but feel a sense of annoyance running through him. He almost felt offended by all the humans peering up at you, though he knew that inviting them was something done more than obligation than out of his good graces. They needed to know that your command meant just as much as his did now. He'd have you all to himself after this ceremony was over, at least.

"Do you take Geto Suguru as your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest's voice bellowed through the quiet church, so quiet you thought he could hear your heartbeat. You glanced over at your soon-to-be husband, noting the way he anxiously waited for your response. He looked normal to the rest of the crowd, but you caught the way his teeth dug into his bottom lip in anticipation.

You took a pause for dramatic effect, having already planned out this moment in your head a few years back. "I do," your voice echoed through the church, cheers coming from the crowd. Though most of them were dramatized out of fear of getting reprimanded by Suguru, you could tell that at least. Still, you found yourself unable to stop smiling the second his fingers traced your own as he slid the gold band onto your ring finger. "Had me worried there for a second, sweetheart."

"Have to keep you on your toes even now," you teased him, letting out a small yelp when he pinched your side. He could hardly wait to kiss you, barely hanging onto the priest's words before leaning in and swiftly pressing his lips against yours. He wrapped his hands around your waist, keeping you steady while he kissed you with so much desperation. It was a miracle how he managed to last this long without doing so. It was like you were begging to be kissed with the little glances you gave at him throughout the ceremony.

Gojo couldn't bring himself to go to the wedding, instead choosing to look through the windows outside while the ceremony came to a close. He'd had to face some of the dirty looks from some of the guests, though he assured them that he was just gardening. Not completely sure if they believed him though, since he hadn't met a gardener who did their job in a ¥250,000 shirt. Even if they didn't believe him, they at least managed to leave him alone to his peering.

Truth was, Gojo missed him. More than he was willing to admit to himself and anybody around him. He missed the meaningless conversations that they'd have, talking about whatever stupid thing they had to deal with. He longed just to have one of those conversations again, to just ask how his day had been without the awkward pause that reminded the both of them of the difference between the two of them. That Gojo would inevitably have to be the one to carry out his death sentence.

The title hung on him heavy, the thought of having to kill his best friend one that he couldn't even fathom. It made him sick to his stomach every time he pondered on it too long, though his excuses to the higher ups were starting to run out. "I don't have a trace of him." or "I wasn't able to find him." All excuses to prolong the sentence. They'd even started to question his ability with the six eyes if he couldn't even find out where his best friend was.

He wasn't aware of the tear drop running down his cheek, quickly wiping it away before anyone who might've been lingering around caught a glimpse. Nobody needed to know that the strongest had a weakness when it came to Suguru, he was supposed to be indestructible. Untouchable. Every single part of that facade crumbled away the second that Suguru left, leaving simply the shell of the strongest sorcerer alive. No one else would perceive quite as well, he knew that much.

Suguru intertwined his hand with yours, the two of you walking out of the church in perfect synchrony. That was, until the two of you got outside. It was subtle, something that he shouldn't have even captured. But in the distance, he got a whiff of Satoru's residuals. He knew the scent just as much as he knew his own, unable to forget about it no matter how much he wanted to. "You okay?" you asked, waiting for him by edge of the car the two of you would take to the hotel.

He'd felt Satoru's presence throughout the last decade, never as overwhelming as this time though. It always felt like he caught a whiff of him too late, like he was just out of reach. He glanced around at the areas surrounding the church, wanting to see if he could catch up to Satoru before he'd left. All he saw were the photographers that you'd hired swarming around the two of you to catch your photos. He wondered if the photographers had even managed to capture any candid photos.

Either way, he'd find out soon enough.

"All good," he responded, walking over to you and taking your hand. Though he couldn't put his finger on why exactly Satoru had bothered to show up, he knew that he wouldn't face him alone. He opened the car door for you, making sure that every last bit of your dress had bunched up on the carpet before closing the door. The driver took off as soon as Suguru got in the car, heading to the hotel he'd been instructed to go.

The atmosphere of the room changed immediately when you and Suguru stepped into the room, his lips immediately claiming yours in a fervor. He kissed so desperately, like he needed to consume every last bit of you. It was more a clash of tongue and teeth, though it conveyed clearly what he'd been waiting for since the start of this ceremony. Even with the wedding band around your finger, he was determined to mark you up as his.

His teeth sunk into the skin of your neck just hard enough to leave a mark, his tongue following suit as a way to ease the sting. His hands rubbed small circles on your hips as he held you into place, his lips moving further down. He nipped at your collarbone, pressing a couple kisses here and there before moving onto your chest. The access was somewhat restricted due to the heavy material of your dress, but oddly enough, he managed to make it work.

Well that was, until he got tired of waiting. Part of him just wanted to go out and rip that wedding dress off but he knew that he'd be risking getting you mad within a couple hours of just being married to him. "I love you so so much," he sounded so utterly devoted, standing back up on his feet. He tilted your chin to face him, dipping his head down to give you a kiss. It was much less rushed than the previous ones you'd exchanged, yet just as needy. He probably wouldn't be able to last long like this.

Your wedding dress pooled at your feet when you got down on your knees, your hand sliding up to his crotch. The material of the dress pants he had on did little to conceal the bulge he was sporting. He let out a small hiss upon feeling you palm him, precum leaking onto the material of his boxers. You hadn't done much yet his cock was already begging for some type of release. "Already this hard?" Your voice came out almost like a purr, your touch barely there as you rubbed him through his pants.

"Don't tease me," he meant for his voice to come out more authoritative, though you could hear the subtle whine. You unzipped his pants, a wet spot in the middle of his boxers. It was surprising to see how much you still managed to affect him, even throughout all these years. You slid his boxers down, collecting the precum with your pointer finger before sticking it in your mouth. All whilst maintaining eye contact with him. If he thought he'd gone to heaven before, he was sorely mistaken.

This was his perfect version of heaven. There wasn't anything else that he needed at this moment, nothing more that he could ever ask for. He let out a groan when you finally took him in your mouth, your saliva coating the tip of his cock. "Oh fuck, don't stop," he was already a mess and you'd barely swirled your tongue around it. As much as you wanted to prolong this, your patience was wearing just as thin as his was. You bobbed your head on his cock, hollowing your cheeks out to get more of it in there.

Your tongue slid down to his frenulum, a shiver running down his spine at the sensation. "That's it, don't stop," his hand came to the back of your head, simply as a means of support. Your hands were smaller than his, but the way that they felt wrapped around his cock was angelic. You were jerking him off with one hand, the other fondling his balls as you sucked on the tip. The small moans you let out vibrated throughout his being, making it harder and harder to keep his composure.

He was willing himself to think about anything else other than just how good your mouth felt, think about the disgusting taste of curses. But your tongue always found a way to bring him back into the moment. "Don't go zoning out on me," you spoke up, your tongue running down a couple prominent veins before you went back to sucking him off. Hearing you gag around his cock, spit drooling down the corners of your mouth while your eyes teared up. "Would never oh shit do that."

He pulled your head to the side when he felt too close to cumming, his cheeks flushed. He felt a small shiver run up his spine when you licked a stripe up his shaft before you got up, his cock practically twitching with anticipation. "Can you help me take my dress off? Preferably without snapping all the buttons of," you asked him, turning around to give him access. "Sounds easy enough," he muttered as he stepped closer to you, his dick hitting his stomach when he moved.

How he wanted to swallow those words instantly. "Just give me a second to unbutton all this shit," he grumbled, his fingers starting to hurt after what seemed to be the twentieth button. He could've sworn more of them seemed to appear with each one that he unbuttoned, the task almost endless. "I'm not one to question your decisions but was there not one with less buttons?" he inquired, small crescents forming on his fingers by the time he got to the bottom.

"Well, yes. But I'd say the anticipation was worth it, was it not?" You looked over your shoulder, a teasing smile on your face. "My dick's about to fall off from how hard it is," he muttered, letting out a small sigh of relief when the dress slid down to pool around your feet. You were about to step away from it, instead getting lifted onto Suguru's arms in record time. He laid you down on the bed, spreading your legs open like you were a first course meal.

He slid down the white stockings with more care than you would've thought, you'd been expecting him to just rip them to shreds. He tossed them to the side, his lips returning back to your legs instantaneously. He began pressing small kisses against your shins, moving his way up to your inner thigh before doing the same with your other leg. "Don't tease me," you grumbled, feeling yourself leak down onto the expensive hotel bedsheets. "But you had fun teasing me, hm?"

"That's diff-oh mgh shit!" Your hands instantly flew to his hair as he licked a stripe up your cunt, your slick overwhelming every single one of his senses. Your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, his tongue messily swirling against your folds before he stuck it inside of you. Hushed moans escaped from your lips, your nails surely digging into his scalp by now. "Hey, look at me," he stopped with his actions, waiting for you to follow his instructions before he continued once more. He looked up at you as he went to swirl his tongue against your clit, the sudden stimulation making you jerk up.

He was quick to push you back down, not willing to have anything disrupt him from his meal. His nose bumped your clit as he buried his tongue to the hilt inside of you, tasting every last drop that you had to give. He raised his head slightly, spitting down on your cunt before going back to sloppily making out with once more. "So fucking good, should just spend the honeymoon here," he groaned against your pussy, his tongue leaving your cunt. You wanted to complain about the sudden loss of contact but the words died out when you felt one of his fingers inside of you.

His tongue swirled around your clit, sucking and licking on the nub as it throbbed underneath his ministrations. His finger was busy on working you open, your slick coating it every time he pushed it back in. "Oh fuck," Your fingers dug in deeper into his hair as you moaned, the way that he'd curled his finger hitting your g-spot. He pushed in another finger, working them both at the same time in a scissoring motion to open you up. It'd take more than just that to get you to stretch enough for his cock though.

Your grip on his hair intensified and yet, he looked like he was almost relishing in the sting. He continued sucking on your clit with as much fervor as before, if not even more. "That's it, use my face," he managed to get out, moving his tongue at the same rhythm you were starting to move your hips. You could feel that orgasm building up rapidly, your walls clenching tightly around his fingers. "Fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Your moans sounded like the prettiest melody he's heard, so close to orgasming.

Your release coated his chin and mouth, his eyes gleaming as his tongue darted out to lick it away. His mouth licked at your folds and slit, eager to get any last drop that he might've missed. He licked away at the two fingers that had been inside of you, never quite getting enough of you. His hand wrapped around his cock once he'd stood up, slowly guiding himself to your pussy. "It'll fit, it always does," it was like he'd read your thoughts, assuring you before you even had to ask.

Suguru rubbed his cock through your folds, a thin sheen coat of your wetness illuminated by the dim hotel lights visible. His hand went over to yours, holding it as a form to anchor you. He wanted you to feel every sensation of the moments with him, rather than letting your mind run loose. His hips thrust forward, the tip in itself already causing a stretch. He leaned in, holding your hand as he used the other to guide himself further. While he was lengthy, the majority of his cock was just the width.

He had to will himself to maintain the last semblance of his self control while he waited for you to adjust, waiting for the furrow of your brows to disappear. He pulled out when he saw your expression relax, gently pushing in deeper this time around. "There you go, you got it," his tone was so much more different than the sting in between your legs. His thumb reached out, wiping away at the tear that'd made itself apparent. He started off slowly, trying to get you adjusted to the stretch before he developed an even pace.

Your walls clenched tightly around his cock, your slick coating his shaft every time he pushed back inside of you. The sound of your skin slapping together and your slick was enough to let anyone know what was happening in the room. Not that it mattered, though. You were too focused on the man hovering above you. "Kiss me please," you pleaded, his compliance almost immediate. His hips never faltered when he leaned in, capturing your lips in a desperate, messy kiss.

"Faster," your voice came out in a breathy moan, the wind getting knocked out of your lungs when his hips snapped against yours. Your pussy enveloped his cock so well, the tip managing to hit your g-spot with every thrust that he made. "Perfect pussy made just for me," he sounded just as needy as you, if not more. His hands came to your waist, his hips moving rapidly. His head leaned back, too overwhelmed in the way that your cunt was stretching around him just perfectly. "Just for you, Sugu! Just you!"

One of his hands went down to the bulge in your lower abdomen, pressing down on it. "Feel just how fucking deep I am?" he groaned, looking over at your frazzled state. You'd be lucky enough to have any coherent thoughts right now. "S-So deep!" you managed to get out, your voice uncharacteristically whiny. Then again, he was the only one that could reduce you into a puddle with only so much as a touch. His heavy balls slapped against your ass with every thrust, so ready to fill you up with his cum at any minute.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your ankle digging into his ass to push him all the much closer to you. (As if he weren't nearly balls deep.) His thrusts got sloppier, solely focused on the mission of getting to his own orgasm. His hand came down to your clit, his thumb rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves just to get you as close as he was. Though by the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head and the way you were gripping the bedsheets, he knew it wasn't much longer. "Fuck, right there!"

Your vision turned white as you came, your release leaking out of your cunt onto the bedsheets. He only managed to get one more thrust in before he was leaking inside of you, his cum painting your walls white. It twitched inside of you, his breath heavy as he tried to regain whatever bits of his composure he had left to maintain. He pushed any drops that were threatening to slip out with his cock before pulling out of you, careful not to stimulate you any further. "I'll be right back, hold on."

He went over to the bathroom, grabbing a fluffy white towel before slowly starting to clean you up. "You okay? You need a shower or anything?" He'd just come back with a water bottle, setting it down on the nightstand next to you. "Can you just hold me for a while?" You hadn't even finished speaking when he was already getting into bed with you, his arms wrapping around you. He held you tightly against his chest, kissing the top of your head. "I love you. Thank you for agreeing to be my wife."

Those moments of bliss were simply temporary. While Suguru had managed to clear up his schedule for the duration of your honeymoon with him, it was full the minute the two of you landed back in Tokyo. Of non sorcerers that needed curses to be absorbed, of payment plans that weren't being met. All tasks that kept you away from your husband. "After I'm finished with this last mission, you'll have me all to yourself again," he assured you all whilst pushing Playful Cloud into the worm he'd managed to tame.

"Please take care of yourself," was the last thing you'd told him before he went off on his mission, a chaste kiss placed on his lips. "I promise I'll be back before you know it," he whispered back to you, kissing you like it was the last time he'd get the chance to. Maybe if you would've known, you would've savored the feeling of lips against yours a little bit longer. Relished in just the warmth that his skin exuded against yours. Though you guessed that was the certain beauty of those moments, not knowing how many of them there would be exactly.

At least Gojo had been courteous enough to let you tag along to where he was planning on burying Suguru. It wasn't much, a sparse area covered in a heavy layer of snow but it would have to do. It was almost painful looking at him in this way, of knowing that he wouldn't be coming back home after this. You stayed by Suguru's side while Gojo dug up a whole, grunting to himself about how hard snow was to dig up throughout the process. "You idiot," you found yourself whispering to Suguru, unable to think of anything else to stay.

Though, in a way, it was somewhat befitting.

"Just give me a few more minutes please," you didn't need to look up to know that Gojo was behind you, waiting to honor Suguru in the same manner you were doing. Your hand held his tightly, the reflection of the sun peeking down on the golden band around his finger. You didn't have the heart to take it off, not that you'd know what to do with it regardless. You wanted to hold his corpse close to your body but you settled for just holding his hand throughout this process. So many unsaid things you had to say to him.

You just wanted to tell him that you loved him one last time. Forgive him for all the fights that the two of you had throughout the years, over silly stuff. You were starting to regret ever having gone silent after said arguments, wishing that you would've savored his presence instead. You weren't sure how long you were holding his hand for, but you moved away once you felt ready to. Satoru took your place on the floor, looking over at Suguru with the dullest expression you'd ever seen from him.

"You don't have to pretend in front of me. But if it makes you feel better, I can step away."

"Please."

You walked through the thick layer of snow to form a distance between you and Satoru, watching over as the two interacted. Satoru's head hung low, hushed whispers that you couldn't quite make out escaping from his lips. He got up after a couple minutes, wiping away any stray tears that leaked out. Even if he wouldn't acknowledge them, you could still see the streak marks on his face.

You were pretty certain that you'd never love anyone the same way that you loved Suguru. No one else would be able to compare to him. To how it felt to wake up to him in the mornings, your body intertwined with his to the point where you couldn't tell where yours started and his ended. Of finding simple joy in waking up, knowing that he’d be right beside you or humming a quiet tune in the kitchen while he cooked breakfast for the two of you. Nothing else would ever compare to those moments.

So how exactly did you find yourself in Gojo Satoru's bedroom?

You'd gone over to his penthouse after you went off to get the girls some snacks, not willing yourself to be at home just yet though. It all just felt too empty. Like you didn't really belong there without Suguru. Gojo had welcomed you into his abode, letting you stay there as much as you needed to. "I have this bottle of some expensive wine Yaga gave me," was the last thing you remembered from the night before you ended up blacking out.

The mattress you found yourself waking up in was like a slice of heaven, your body just melting down onto the plushness of it. As nice as the bed you had with Suguru was, you didn't remember it ever being this soft. Your eyes fluttered as you opened them, a steady pounding throbbing behind your skull. Not only did you wake up with a splitting headache but you woke up in a different room than your own. Wearing someone else's clothes apparently.

Surely, you couldn't have slept with someone else? You were certain that you would've probably burst out into tears before any action happened. Still, your judgement was severely faulty when alcohol was involved.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, we didn't do anything," Gojo's voice broke you out of the idea, a small sigh of relief escaping from your lips. While you still had no idea why you were wearing just his shirt, at least you hadn't slept with him. "So then what exactly did we do?" You decided it'd be the appropriate question to ask, still left wondering why exactly you'd been changed out of your clothing. Though the subtle pounding that seemed to rattle your skull was a good indicator.

"You got too drunk off some wine last night, spent half the night babbling and crying about how you missed Suguru. Spent the other half of the night dancing on my very expensive coffee table until you broke it. Then you wanted to be a cowg-"

"Okay, I think I got it, thanks." Just the recollection of those events was starting to make you debate never having another drop of alcohol again.

"You don't have to go home just yet," he spoke up before you had a chance to get up from his bed, turning to face you. "I don't want to overstay my welcome, plus I'm sure you have business trips to attend to and whatnot," you tried to dismiss his concerns, getting up from his bed. You quickly pushed the shirt down before it ended up exposing you. Just the thing you'd need to make this situation all the much better.

"I wouldn't be asking if I planned on leaving you alone. Stay a while," he reiterated, making it hard for you to find an excuse to leave even if you wanted to. Well that, and the sheer softness of the mattress underneath you. It truly did feel like you were floating on a cloud. "That's if you want to, of course. But we could spend a couple more minutes in bed, share some breakfast when you get up," he added, surely in a last minute attempt to not come off as too desperate.

You pulled the blanket back over yourself, letting out a small sigh when you sunk back into the mattress. "I'm saying yes solely because of the breakfast and the bed," you muttered, looking up at the ceiling to avoid looking at him. You weren't sure if you could ever face him normally after what happened. "Well that and the excellent company you have," he responded, letting out a yawn as he got comfortable too. "Debatable."

"I know you're lonely without Suguru. And it's a lot to raise two kids by yourself, so I'm asking if you want a companionship," you raised a brow, turning to look over at him just to make sure you weren't getting the wrong implication. Even if that was the least romantic way to ask someone for a relationship. "We don't have to do anything intimate if you don't want to. It'd be just for the title," he added, turning his head in your direction.

Even considering the idea seemed like a betrayal to Suguru.

"What do you mean by companionship exactly?"

"You'd be able to live here with the girls and you'd be appearing to events as my date. I won't coerce you into anything you're not comfortable doing. Just two people living in a home together."

"Why?" It was just the tip of the iceberg of the multitude of questions that you had for him. But it was the one that seemed the more reasonable to ask right now.

He twirled a snowy strand around his pointer finger, looking up at the ceiling before glancing over at you. "Well, I imagine Suguru would want you to be taken care of. Something that I could accomplish. And I need something to get the higher ups off my back."

"And no romance involved?"

"Absolutely none, nope."

"Alright, sure."

The relationship that you established with Gojo felt more like an agreement rather than the culmination of shared feelings towards each other. While the two of you tolerated each other enough to be friends, you didn't feel any connection towards him. Not much more than simply laughing at a couple jokes or tolerating his existence better than most, anyways. Though you weren't exactly sure if the other members from jujutsu society really cared about all that. To them, marriage was simply just a matter of status and power.

You weren't sure what he was looking for in this arrangement, if he just wanted some solace from the pressures set on him or he wanted some kind of an actual relationship. Every time the question was on the tip of your tongue, you couldn't bring yourself to ask it. A part of you wanted to ask why confine himself to a relationship with you when there were plenty of women who'd be willing to throw themselves at his feet.

So many questions that you couldn't bring yourself to ask him. So many questions that would remain unanswered.

You slept in the room furthest to his, next to a stuffed bear that Suguru had gotten for you at a fair along with one of his shirts that still managed to smell like a mixture of his cologne and fabric softener. A shirt that you refused to wash, needing his scent around you just a bit longer. Just until you were ready to let go. The girls slept in the room next to you, each carrying a little memento from the cabin. Something to make the desolate space feel more like home. Even if what made a house a home wasn't present anymore.

Satoru kicked a rock as he walked out of the meeting with the elders, his hands in his pockets. The elders had caught whiff of his new relationship (not that he'd ever call it that) and started prodding into the themes of marriage and of an heir. All the topics that he would've liked to avoid for as long as possible. All the topics that made him nauseous whenever he thought of pursuing them with you. Of having to run his hands through your body, pretending to enjoy the sensation just to give the clan what they need.

He could go along with a wedding, right? Right. Well, it didn't exactly matter if he could. He knew that he needed to. He needed something that would make the higher ups stop condemning him, stop condemning his choices. He'd make a big show out of it, invite all the different members of jujutsu society just to have them all shut up. First, he had to figure out a way to prompt the question though. Something that would get people to talk. Maybe he could do it tonight while the two of you were out at dinner.

"You look lovely tonight," the words felt less forced the more that he said them, extending his hand out to help you in the car. "Thank you," you responded, giving him a smile as you stepped foot out of the car. You took his hand, a featherlight grip on it as he led you inside of the restaurant. The whole thing just screamed expensive, from the chandeliers on the ceiling to just the food items on the menu. About 30 different ways to cook a piece of meat and caviar. Just a subtle reminder of how much Satoru differed from you.

"How was work?" You decided to ask after a couple minutes of uncomfortable silence, hoping that it'd be an easy enough topic. "Went to fourteen different funerals," he deadpanned, your eyes widening a little in surprise before he burst out laughing. "Sorry, just had to tease. We don't even get funerals, really. But work was alright," Gojo shrugged, taking a sip from the bright pink juice he'd ordered. You weren't even sure what that concoction was- a mix of dragonfruit and melon?

One thing did stand out to you though. The mention of no funerals. That'd been one of the things Suguru had said to you in passing before, making you wonder if they shared the same views or if he'd just heard it in passing. "And that doesn't bother you?" you decided to ask, waiting for him to finish taking a sip of his drink. "The funeral thing? I mean, it really bothers me when it's about people I care about. But for me, personally, no. I'm in people's minds either way," he responded, a cocky grin on his face afterwards.

"Ah, of course. The everlasting legacy of Satoru Gojo will outlive even the end of sorcery." You could hardly resist rolling your eyes as you spoke.

"Exactly."

You'd been busy biting into your food, almost missing when Satoru spoke up. He rolled his eyes before repeating himself. "Do you want to get married?" He popped the question in the middle of dinner, his slender fingers holding a black velvet box. He popped it open, exposing one of the biggest diamonds that you ever had the pleasure of seeing. The light above the two of you casted down on the ring, a flurry of rainbow colors surrounding the two of you. And even so, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you felt the same excitement as you did when Suguru proposed.

"Sure, why not," you responded, extending your hand out to Gojo. He brought the ring up to your finger, sliding it on carefully. Maybe he should've asked for your ring size first. And maybe he shouldn't have thought about how he didn't have to ask Suguru for his. "Sorry," he muttered, noticing that the ring wouldn't exactly go past your knuckle. He had half the mind to force it in there, but he decided to just slide back off and put it down on the table.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just wear it as a necklace," you couldn't help but feel a bit tacky as you put the ring in your pocket, the atmosphere in the restaurant tense. "Should we clap?" You heard in the background, amongst a couple of other chatters who were debating if this was a joyous moment. You wished they'd decided on the latter, uncomfortable by the sounds of clapping and hoots ringing in your ears.

You looked over at Gojo, noticing some of the same discomfort on his face though he was able to hide it with much ease. You couldn't miss the way that his lips twitched, almost contorting into a frown before he pushed way to force it into a smile. Always the entertainer, he gave out his thanks and a small bow. "Oh, thank you," he smiled at the waitress when she set down a slice of congratulatory cake, a small candle sparkling in front of it. He blew out the candle, setting it to the side before starting to eat the cake.

While you'd been responsible for making plans of what venue to use and the color scheme of the decorations, all Gojo had done was simply pass his card whenever you brought up one of the costs. At least he did it without batting an eye though. "Is that supposed to be expensive?" he asked with a teasing grin when you'd pointed out that the venue had run you no less than fifty grand. Even when the dress you originally picked out was a hundred grand, he convinced you to pick a more expensive one. To paint the picture of happiness.

The only thing that he brought himself to actually participate in was the day of the cake tasting, practically engulfing the samples in record time. "The red velvet one's pretty good, pretty sweet too," you pointed out, waiting to hear Gojo's opinion on the cakes. He turned towards the register, wiping any spare cake crumbs from the corners of his mouth. "We'll take them all, actually," he told the baker, getting up to go fill out the rest of the order.

You could see the panic on the baker's eyes as the order went through, surely wondering how they'd be able to bake some many pastries with such a time constraint. "Are you sure we need all these cakes?" you asked him pointedly, noticing that most of them were ordered to be made for ten people or more. Though you held no doubt that Gojo was more than capable of eating them all in one sitting. At one point, you just had to wonder what this man's blood sugar was.

"Yes, we do. I'm willing to pay you extra for any troubles this may cause," he turned to look at the baker when he said the last part, taking his wallet from his pocket. You were willing to bet that half the guests wouldn't even eat a slice of cake, leaving most of the latter towards the two of you. Well, mostly towards Gojo if you had to bet. He finished up a negotiation with the woman, giving her the details to the venue before making his way out with you. "I'd say that went fairly well, no?"

Gojo could feel himself getting anxious towards the date of the wedding, though he did his best to conceal it. He couldn't go through with this, could he? Well, maybe it could be an arranged marriage of sorts. Even that wasn't a reassuring thought, knowing how he had to fight tooth and nail with the higher ups to prevent that situation from even happening. But maybe he could force himself into enjoying the idea of romance with you. He'd forced himself out of worse situations anyways.

After all, it'd been proven time and time again that the longer he pretended to do something, the less it'd feel like he was pretending in the end.

He tried. He really did.

He forced himself to enjoy every caress of your fingers, the ghosting feeling of your lips when you kissed him, those intimate moments that never escalated into something more. But he failed. The feeling wasn't one that he savored at all, it was one that haunted him even through the darkness of the night. Every 'I love you' he'd told you had been a complete lie. He didn't love you.

He loved Suguru. The only person that was able to reach the depths of his soul and understand him, the only person that his heart yearned to be next to. If Suguru loved you, then why couldn't he bring himself to share the same sentiment with you? He yearned to be so badly with Suguru that he willed himself into getting married just because you got to experience that love. He’d lied to himself for years by saying he was happy Suguru found happiness with you, what’s a couple more years of lying?

In a way, he thought it would be like Suguru loving him. But he was so mistaken. He knew it wouldn't be the same, no matter how many times he tried to get you to act like him. You just.. didn't understand him at the same level Suguru did. It just felt like more of a disrespect now than anything. He only wished he'd had this realization before standing at the altar next to you.

He could practically hear the conversations that would follow, criticizing his ability as heir and ability to be able to lead the Gojo clan. It was what they'd done when news of Suguru broke out, anyways. And yet.. he couldn't bring himself to do this to please the clan. He just couldn't.

"Do you take her as your spouse?" The father prodded after receiving no response the first time, expectant eyes landing on him. Hushed whispers were heard throughout the pews, questioning the whole validity of the situation. If only the bastards knew. He glanced over at you, an expectant gaze on your face as you waited for his answer. After all, it'd been his idea in the first place. Yes. Yes. Just say yes already.

"I'd like to object," his voice echoed through the empty church, unable to meet your gaze. If he had, he would've been able to see the way your shoulders slumped down a little in relief. Truth was, if he wouldn't have done it, then maybe you would've. Just the idea of living a lie to be rid of your solitude didn't seem too pleasing anymore, even if you were surrounded by grand quantities of money. He calmly walked down from the podium, making his way of the church and letting the doors slam on the way out.

Your feet felt stuck to the ground as you tried to urge yourself to move, wanting to run after him. What would you even say, though? Demand him for some kind of answer? Demand him for an answer that you already knew at the back of your head? That he was doing this for the same reason that you were? You knew that you were in position to demand anything from him, just as much as he couldn’t demand anything from you.

You could feel the pity emanating from the people at the stands, pity that you weren't exactly sure you even deserved. This would surely be the talk between sorcerers for days to come if their gazes are anything to go by. They all looked like they were begging for this to escalate into something further even if their visible faux pout tried to imply otherwise.

They waited for a scandal, a show, a spectacle, anything that would be worth talking about.

But no.

"Sorry for wasting your time father," was all that you said before making your way down the altar, walking through the aisle. You imagined this moment would've been with Satoru at your side, congratulating cheers following the two of you out of the church. Instead, all you were received by was an overwhelming silence. The photographers that were placed outside had already left the venue, surely by Gojo's order. Well, at least it was one less thing to handle.

You looked around for any spots that stood out to you, noticing a bar across the street. A little ironic that a bar was right in front of a church but you weren't up to question it now. Though Gojo had expressed how much he disliked the taste of alcohol on various different occasions, you figured that was the first place he thought to hide in. You crossed the street, stepping in front of the entrance.

You hoped that the patrons couldn't see you from the inside, that they were blissfully unaware to the way that you paced around near the entrance as you willed yourself to go inside. It's not like you and Gojo were on bad terms either way, right? You wiped your sweaty palms on the material of your poofy dress (courtesy of Gojo: "The bigger the dress, the bigger the love." Whatever that means) before stepping inside of the bar.

At the end of the counter, Gojo idly messed around with the straw of his club soda. The scent of piss and beer made its way up your nose, reminding you that you were terribly out of place. You pulled your dress up to where it wouldn't drag on the floor, some jeers about being a Disney princess shot your way by some of the other patrons. You sat down next to Gojo, handing the ring necklace back to him. It took him a couple seconds to pick it up, shoving it into one of his pockets.

"I think we were getting married for the wrong reason completely. I'm sorry I didn't realize it before making you look like a fool," he told you, unable to maintain eye contact. He was waiting for some kind of reaction, but instead all he got was your silence. At least your stiletto didn't end up lodged in any part of his body. (He was silently praying it wouldn't resort to that.) Yeah, you definitely understood him on this matter. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry too, I should've said something before we got here."

"To not getting married," he spoke up, passing you a glass of whiskey. There was no need for words, no need for him to elaborate why he'd done why he'd done. The two of you sought out solitude in each other's loneliness, not exactly the best starting point for a loving relationship.

"To not getting married," you clinked your glass against him before downing the liquor, reveling in the way your throat burned when it went down. The two of you shared a couple rounds, cracking a few jokes when the bartender came over to ask why the two of you were in here instead of getting married.

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blades-edge · 2 days

Text

False God | Chapter 1

Chapter Summary: Cooper tries to fill the hole in his heart by drowning himself in you.

Pairing: Pre-War!Cooper Howard x f!escort!reader

Chapter warnings: mentions of depression, angst, joking about cowboys in a sexy way ig??, thigh touching, alcohol consumption, brief allusions to masturbation (m)

Words: 3k

A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of my Cooper fic! I am so excited I was finally able to finish it and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 Link

Cooper had grown used to the emptiness of his apartment. It was significantly smaller than his mansion in Los Angeles. He missed his garden and being able to spend hot summer days in the sun, enjoying a drink while he watched Janey play with Roosevelt.

The divorce wasn’t kind to him. When the entire process had first started, he had been trying to play it cool. Keep his composure, go on with his life as if nothing had happened – but that just didn’t work for him. His job used to be his anchor, but even that was a thing of the past now, considering that barely any studio wanted to affiliate themselves with a Vault-Tec sympathiser. None of them knew what he did after all. He didn’t even want to know what would happen if he brought the things he knew – or at least assumed about Vault-Tec – to the press and therefore to the public. Maybe everyone would call him crazy on top of it all.

But he couldn’t really risk his own life and more importantly Barb and Janey’s just to maybe have a chance at bringing an evil company down. If anything Barb had told him about the Vaults were true then he hoped that she and Janey would be safe when the bombs will fall. It wasn’t a question of ‘What iff’ for him anymore. He knew it would happen sooner or later. Somehow, he seemed to know it in his bones. And the political situation wasn’t really making him feel more positive about the whole ordeal.

In all the sitcoms and movies, they never seemed to talk about the emptiness one could feel after a divorce. His new apartment seemed empty despite the new furniture. The only beacon of hope he had was Roosevelt, but even the food from his fridge didn’t seem to taste the same. Cooper hadn’t been heartbroken since he finished High School. He never had the time for it and his marriage had eventually been just as he had always dreamed as a child. Barb and him rarely argued. Until it all slowly came to an end. Coop didn’t know how to live on his own anymore.

He was surviving off a few small gigs at parties, always donning his iconic cowboy outfit. Of course, he wasn’t oblivious to the whispers behind his back.

‘Look what he has to resort to now..’

‘That is Cooper Howard?’

Cooper tried to shut all their voices out of his head. He had enough to worry about already. Paying his aliments to Barb, paying his rent, trying to stay afloat – somehow.

If his days were lonely, all of his nights spent alone seemed to be even worse. That’s where he had time to think and he didn’t want to think about everything that was going on around him. His cigarettes and the whiskey stored in his fridge quickly became his best friends during all those lonely nights. But they still didn’t fill the gaping hole he seemed to carry in his chest. Everything felt meaningless. Life was only a combination of small moments anymore.

All the good moments he had were the days with his daughter, but there was nothing else that could really make Cooper feel happy or fulfilled.

He craved the feeling of waking up next to a woman again. To feel her kiss him in the morning and to touch her body. This almost reminded him of how he felt as a green teenager, when he had only dreamed about having someone at his side.

It wasn’t really a surprise to him that his hand didn’t feel the same as a woman’s touch did. Gosh, he even rummaged through a few boxes to pull up old pornographic holo-tapes, but even those didn’t really do it for him anymore. At least now how they used to in the past.

His next decision was really a manifestation of his desperation.

Coop stared at the newspaper on his kitchen counter. There were several ads on the page and one of them was able to offer just what he wanted. He took a deep breath, staring at the phone on his wall and then turning his gaze back to the number on the paper.

His last gig had paid rather well and he thought that calling a sex worker might fill the hole in his chest for just a few hours. A few years ago, he could have never imagined going this far, but… he was lonely – and desperate in a way. Sex would take his mind off things and give him enough of an illusion for one night. More than the whiskey could.

“It’s worth a try...” He mumbled to himself and then started to type the number into his phone.

Business had been quiet the last few days. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint why that might be, but you were glad when a call came in eventually. Sex work wasn’t really something society seemed to be proud of, but you knew the numbers of lonely men that called your and other women’s numbers were significantly higher than most people would expect.

It wasn’t just you working here. Multiple women operated under the “Sweet Nights” brand. You were just a small part in the great scheme of things.

Your work certainly paid enough for you to entertain a decent, but not overly luxurious life in Los Angeles. Your small apartment was nothing compared to the big mansions up in Beverly Hills. Yet it was enough.

The red lipstick stood in contrast to your black dress, correcting its straps around your shoulders as soon as Jimmy, the manager of “Sweet Nights”, informed you of your next client. This would be the first and the last for your day, considering that it had been a pretty quiet week night for everyone. On the weekend, calls were more much frequent and you could sometimes do three clients in one day.

Every girl here had different prices. You were somewhere in the middle. Most middle-class men were able to book you, but sometimes, a man wanted to take you out for more than just sex for which you were able to demand a higher price. If you were honest, you preferred that to the simple act of offering sex and then leaving again. You certainly didn’t want to turn down a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant which was probably the best part your job had to offer.

“Is Alan going to drive me?” You asked. Alan was the driver you had worked with the most so far. He was always in a good mood and often enough, he even lifted yours as well. You would share a cigarette or two before or after a client and he’d sometimes even drive you bring some food for you to enjoy after work. Alan was probably your best friend in this business, if you thought about all the people you’ve encountered so far. You got along well with some other women in here as well, but you couldn’t call those intimate friendships.

Sustaining a relationship was also not an easy task given the nature of your job. So far, you hadn’t really been that lucky to find a man accepting of your situation, but you were of the firm belief that you could never know what was going to happen in the future.

“I think so. You still have half an hour, so take it slow.” Jimmy was always kind to you as well, but he did have the attitude of a businessman. Nothing made him more happy than seeing the cash flow in and while you were always on time and working hard, you had seen him treat other women differently – especially the ones that weren’t on time and not bringing in a lot of money.

You had been working at the “Sweet Nights” establishment for multiple years, so you had generated a few regular clients with time. For a man like Jimmy, there was rarely anything better. It meant a steady cash flow and for you, it meant being able to spend time with people you already knew in a way and they usually didn’t make you uncomfortable at all. However, getting attached was strictly forbidden. You didn’t want to breach the border between your professional life and your private one.

Jimmy took his leave rather quickly then, leaving you to your preparations. You made sure to take your birth control before you were heading out, not wanting to risk forgetting it on accident if you were to stay the night at the client’s.

Alan was already waiting for you at the door when you made your way to the car. “Hello, beautiful,” he greeted you, placing a small kiss on the back of your hand before he helped you into the passenger seat of the black car.

Soft jazz music was playing through the radio as you drove to the client’s apartment. It wasn’t too far away from the “Sweet Nights” establishment as you were able to arrive there in under ten minutes. The apartment block in front of you looked simple and it made you quite certain that your client was probably part of the middle class. You had been to fancier homes, but it felt good to be able to ring a bell without going through two security checks on your way inside.

Alan always took his time to wait until you were safely inside. There had been a few times where a client didn’t open the door and your friend drove you home instead.

But this wouldn’t be one of those nights.

When you pushed against the door, it opened for you. You turned around briefly to wave goodbye at your driver, before heading up the stairs to the apartment on the second floor. The sound of your high heels echoed off the beige walls and as you looked up the staircase, you could already see a man waiting by the apartment door.

You always tried to meet your clients without any specific expectations towards them, but when the man came fully into view, you could feel your heart skip a beat. This wasn’t just any man. This was Cooper Howard.

Ex-Movie Star and a new favourite topic in every local gossip magazine. You had read about his divorce as it was almost impossible to avoid the matter these days. Additionally, you were pretty sure you had seen just about every movie he had ever starred in.

“Good evening,” you greeted him, the smile coming to you quite easily as you thought of the fond memories you had from watching his movies. Cooper extended his hand to you almost immediately, shaking it in a gentle manner. “Good evening to you too. Feel free to come inside.” His smile was a polite one as he stepped to the side and let you in.

His apartment clearly wasn’t anything you expected from America’s most famous cowboy, but you knew times were probably a bit rougher for him now. There were a few paintings along the hallway wall, but the interior was nothing fancy. It wasn’t cheap either, but your job had brought you to many Hollywood mansions before and this apartment didn’t have even the slightest resemblance to any of them.

Cooper walked past you slowly. After so many years of working as an escort, you could tell that this was his first time. He looked a little lost, shy even. You were not here to judge about it though, you were here to make him feel good.

“Would you like something to drink? Wine perhaps?” You followed him into the kitchen, watching him as he let his hands restlessly move over the edge of the kitchen island. His face was still displaying the same smile he had greeted you with, but there was clearly a nervousness to his eyes. They were frantically moving from the counter to you and back again.

“Wine is good. I don’t really have a preference,” you assured him with a smile, leaning against the other side of the counter. He gave you a quick nod before he looked for two wine glasses and searched through a small cupboard to retrieve a new bottle for you both.

When the two glasses were filled, you leaned forward a little, supporting yourself against the counter as you looked at the man with a smirk. Cooper pushed your glass over to you, pointing at the living room next door then. “How about you… join me on the couch?”

His voice sounded strained and his hold around the glass seemed a little concerning for its fragility, but you didn’t hesitate to give the movie star an approving nod. “I would love to, Mr Howard.”

You could tell he tensed up a little at the mention of his name, so you quietly took note of that.

“Call me Cooper,” he offered, leading you into the small living room. While he sat down on the far left end of the couch, you didn’t bother to sit down on the opposite end. Instead, you got comfortable right next to him, a quick invitation that he could touch you if he wanted.

And Cooper did want to. But his mind was clouded with many things. This experience was completely new to him, but you were absolutely gorgeous in that black dress and he was very curious to see what was underneath it. He was only a man too after all, but–

You clinked your wine glass against his and he was pulled back into the reality of things. His eyes drifted over your body, a hint of longing appearing in them and you could feel yourself smile a little more at that. Cooper wasn’t showing you disinterest, but you could feel the insecurity inside him.

This job brought you close to many different people and you would be a fool to assume that Cooper wasn’t struggling with the divorce. This wasn’t a rare scenario at all – many men were asking for your services when they wanted to fill the hole left behind by their beloved wives.

While you took the first sip from your wine, you made sure to keep eye contact up with Cooper. It was enough to send a cold shiver down his spine and let his free hand claw at the arm rest of the couch.

He took a sip from his drink as well, before placing the glass down on the small table in front of him.

His lips parted for a moment, ready to form words, but you were quick to place a hand on his arm. Just a gentle touch. Not too much if he didn’t want it yet. “I know this is your first time. I can tell. And… we can do it all in whatever pace you’d prefer.”

For a moment, the man seemed a little surprised by your words, but his expression quickly changed to a softer one. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I’m–”

What was he even trying to say? Cooper didn’t want to come across as an inexperienced teenager or the like, but he also didn’t want to seem too desperate. Even though he was. His body was clearly desperate.

“It’s alright.” Maybe a little bit of light conversation might help him, so you took the time to let your eyes wander over his appearance. His brown hair was brushed back neatly and it definitely looked like he had shaved this morning. There was a simple, but beautiful ring adorning his finger, but you were sure it was not his former wedding band. His beige pants and the dark blue sweater were a lot more casual than your own outfit, but you had always been sure that Cooper Howard would look good in anything.

Would his movies be a good topic to start with? Tell him that you were a fan?

“I’ve loved your movies for years, you know?”

The look in his eyes changed. His curiosity seemed to give way to disappointment and hurt. Probably the wrong topic. Too sensitive or too personal.

Your throat seemed to tighten and you were ready to apologise when Cooper interrupted you.

“Isn’t it a strange thought that… I’m now asking you to have sex with me in a way?” His eyebrows were pushed together in confusion and you didn’t know how to answer at first.

Of course, it wasn’t what you had expected, but saying you were displeased with the idea would be a lie.

“No. It’s exciting, actually. Maybe cowboys have always been my thing.”

Cooper’s laugh was quite infectious. He had a big smile, a beautiful one too. His shoulders seemed to relax a little and he eventually put an his arm on the couch behind you.

“What’s the saying? Save a horse, ride a cowboy?” His voice had grown a little deeper and while you were still able to watch his right hand hold tightly onto the arm rest next to him, a little bit of doubt had probably left him.

You decided to weigh in on that.

“I would never say no to a man like you, of course. Definitely worth saving that horse.”

Another laugh.

For the first time in a while, the harmless banter seemed to clear his mind off a few worries. Yes, it was a sensitive topic, but you approached it with enough ease that it didn’t seem all that awful anymore to Cooper.

His left hand eventually moved down to your thigh, gently holding onto it as he searched for your eyes again.

And before you could really think a lot about it, you kissed the former movie star, maybe a little too eager.

Yet he was all for it. Your lips felt like a relief he hadn’t experienced in a long time and as he leaned in for more, he was certain that if nothing else could drown out the worries in his mind, your lips would surely be able to quiet his thoughts – even if it was just temporary.

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard fanfic #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard smut #cooper howard #cooper howard headcanons #cooper howard imagine #prewar!cooper #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout show #fallout amazon #fallout tv series #fallout series #walton goggins

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cherryobx · 14 hours

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pheromone perfume

pairing: jj maybank x reader

request: Could you write about that one perfume that’s making all men go crazy over their girls, like all clingy but with jj? Thank you (if not that’s fine sorry) 💕

a/n: thank you for the request @m3ntally-unstable! so sorry it took me so long to write! hope you enjoy it! and if any of yall find any typos or smth then let me know im too lazy to proofread lol

summary: you accidentally buy a pheromone perfume and JJ can't keep his hands off of you

warnings: none i think

wc: 0.9k

It was a total accident. You didn’t realise at the time of purchasing that you had bought a pheromone perfume. It smelled good and that’s why you bought it, not paying much attention to the label on the bottle. It was not very strong but it smelled sweet and fresh. Only when JJ started acting weirder than normal did you start to suspect that your new perfume might be the cause.

When it first happened you were in the kitchen making yourself a sandwich and JJ came to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled his glass to the brim with cold water, chugging it afterwards.

“Can you make me one too? Pretty please.” he asks, looking over to where you’re assembling your mid-day snack with his puppy-dog eyes.

“Sure.” You happily oblige. You’re making yourself one anyway, might as well make two. It’s not a problem.

“Thank you.” He kisses you on the cheek and intends to turn to leave and go back to the living room but something stops him in his tracks. You smell different.

He doesn’t understand it at first. You always smell good, good enough to bite. But this is different. He leans in closer, his nose almost touching your neck, and takes a deep whiff.

“What the hell are you doing?”

JJ almost doesn’t register what you had just asked him. His mind is in a whirlwind and his mind is foggy, the only thought in his head is that he needs to be closer to you. He needs to touch you.

“You smell so good.” He stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, face pressed to the crook of your neck.

“JJ.”

“Hmm?” He presses small kisses to your neck, behind your ear, on your jaw. He’s so enamoured he can’t get enough of this new scent of yours. It smells like you always do, except somehow stronger and even better. It has enhanced your smell and it’s addicting.

“Are you okay?” The sandwich-making is on pause for the moment and you put down the knife in your hand.

“Mhm.” His mind barely forms any other thoughts than you.

You turn around in his arms and he lifts his head from your neck and meets your eye. He doesn’t waste a second to kiss you. You melt into his touch and let yourself enjoy the moment for a second.

His big hands snake behind your thighs and he lifts you on the kitchen counter, stepping between your parted legs. He breaks your kiss just to move back down to your neck and press even more kisses there, not so secretly smelling you again.

“JJ,” you pant.

He just grunts in response.

“If you want a sandwich you’re gonna have to take your hands off of me for a sec.”

“Fuck the sandwich.”

For the rest of the day he’s unable to keep his hands to himself. He’s constantly touching you, following you around like a dog. He’s being clingier than normal but you don’t give it that much thought at the moment. Maybe he’s just really into your new perfume.

Later you start to think that it’s kind of weird that the day you buy a new perfume he can’t stop touching you. You then intentionally don’t wear the perfume for the next couple of days, instead spraying on your old ones that you’re still so fond of. And even though JJ likes those too, has expressed it many times in the past, he’s not as clingy anymore. Of course, he’s touchy and affectionate like he usually is but not to that extreme degree.

So you put the new perfume on a few days later to test your working theory and JJ’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. It’s like he smelled it from miles away because as soon as he’s at your place he’s almost climbing you like a tree. You called him over for a movie night and you’re on the couch together. Usually you lean against JJ or he has his arm wrapped around you or you’re laying on his chest. But this time JJ is literally smothering you. He’s laying on top of you and his head is resting on your collarbone. Occasionally he presses a light kiss there or on your neck.

“JJ, I need to go pee.” He groans at that. “Can’t you just hold it?” he mutters into your skin.

“That’s not how it works, JJ. Please let me get up.”

He reluctantly rolls off of you, a mopey look on his face. “Can I come with you?”

You’re confused. “Come with me? To pee? Why?”

He shrugs. “Just because.”

“It’ll take two seconds. I’ll be back before you know it.” JJ throws his head back and lets out another groan.

You go to the bathroom, do your business, and just before your hand grabs the door knob you eye the perfume from the corner of your eye, sitting on the bathroom shelf. It makes you wonder. Maybe it really is the perfume. You pick it up and for the first time actually read the label on it. “Pheromone perfume,” you mutter to yourself and then scoff. It’s almost funny.

You return to the living room where JJ has been impatiently waiting for the last few minutes. “Took you long enough. Back to your spot, princess.”

You lay back down and he lies on you once again, but not before pressing a small peck to your lips.

Safe to say you’ll be using your new perfume more often.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank obx #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank blurb #outer banks #obx

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renren-006 · 1 day

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Y'all did know? - Daryl x fem reader

Anon: i absolutely fucking love your fics, i read so many fanfics i don’t always remember authors but i for sure remember and recognize you and your work partially bc i reread it often❤️ after reading your last daryl fic at 4 am bc i couldn’t sleep i had an idea for a fic for him. what if it was slightly the opposite thing, like daryl and reader got together early on, maybe the knew each other before hand like reader was a bartender at merle’s favorite bar bc we all know daryl takes time to warm up to be ppl, and the cdc happens, while drinking they make their confession and get together officially, but readers like daryl with the fact they’re kinda shy and take a while to warm up to ppl so they don’t do pda and stuff publicly, not really intending to hide it but also not wanting the attention, and maybe they assume their ppl from their group know (this is where the set up for that last fic got me bc i can see this being a long timeline)......

original ask: Ask

a/n: hey anon!! i decided to copy some of what you wrote here but it was a massive request and I absolutely enjoyed reading it and writing it!!! thank you for the kind words!! you guys are why i love writing and helping make your stories become reality! hope you all enjoy reading it! word count: 3107

taglist: @rosecentury

Before World Ended:

You met the Dixon brothers a few years before the world ended. You were a bartender at a small driver's roadside bar off Atlanta I-85. You started working there after you graduated from college, hoping to make some money to put away to get out of Atlanta.

Merle was always a loud drunk and a loud customer throughout the day. Daryl, however, was a kinder soul, apologizing for his brother before seating himself directly in the center of the bar area. The two of you chatted through your shift, mostly about who comes in, how his day was, and what the weather for the week would be like. It was small talk, but with the other rednecks checking you out, you felt comforted by him. Daryl never made any plans to put any moves on you in the three years he knew you, but when the world ended, and you almost got killed, he knew he had to.

"I like ya," he said aloud. You looked over at him. He was gazing up at the sky, a beer between his knees. You just sat there watching the man.

“What the hell does that mean?” you asked, slightly annoyed. You not only had almost died by an undead customer, but also it was an undead customer. The idea that people could die and come back to life as something unlike themselves was utterly unbelievable. You watched blow you as that undead walked around without noticing you and Daryl on the bar's roof. Merle was blocking the rest of the bar to keep everyone out. All three of you knew you would have to leave soon, but it didn't matter; the summer breeze was still blowing, and the beer was still cold for now.

“It means…ya almost died and the shit of the world, so… I like ya.”

“You are a master with your words,” you told him sarcastically. You've known Daryl for years now; the two of you spoke the same language with people. You were always shy, and Daryl just took a while to open up to people. You both were a lot alike, and that's what kept you together and attracted you to one another. “I like you too.”

GEORGIA:

The two of you never addressed your relationship with each other, not that anyone really needed to know. Nor did the two of you showcase it. Since both of you were shy and had a bit of a more rigid exterior about letting people in, you just figured when you were alone with each other was the time to be closer, but out in the world hand, holding, loving looks, and conversation were the way to go about it.

Merle knew, of course; he figured it out quickly. He was the only one learning about the two of you and not caring. Daryl acted the same as he had, except he didn't dare flirt with you. Daryl had given him one look on the road when you walked ahead, and he was staring at your ass that he never tried again. Merle may be mean to Daryl, but he never would cross-touch what were his brothers. Everyone thought it was a word.

“He doesn't flirt with you, does he?” Andrea asked you a few months into living together. You shook her your head. “Weird, he never stopped with me.”

“Maybe you're just his type, Andrea.”

“And you're not? Anything with tits and an ass and Merles all over it,” she said to you, not noticing the slight touch of hands with Daryl as he walked by and the smile you gave. She kept running on about Merle's annoyance, not noticing anything else around her.

FARM:

“You crazy bitch” you yelled towards Andrea. She had run over far behind your form and Ricks. The two of you dashed towards the fallen man without a second thought in your mind. You ran towards your man, who was lying in the grass, groaning in pain. Daryl was barely speaking in Rick's arms as they carried him off.

“Don't worry, your man will be fine,” Shane said, keeping you from absolutely bashing Andreas' face in. She took one look at your anger and held her hands up, walking backward towards Dale. “Don't bite her head off for this.”

“Whatever,” you said, shoving him off and walking up towards the house, where Daryl was now being brought inside. You didn't even consider Shanes's words that day, “your man.” it never crossed your mind that he was teasing you. Shane was a dick; everyone knew it more recently. You could see Shane's vacant eyes glancing at everyone in a way that made your skin crawl. You thought the only reason he was acting like that towards you was this asshole was flirting. He knew you were taken, right? You were mistaken.

ROAD AGAIN:

You handed over a can of soda to Daryl. You had only found two in the house you searched. Surprisingly, the can was left in a cabinet, meaning you could drink it if you wanted to. Daryl and Rick approached you once they entered the house. They both came to help you in the bigger house. You placed the soda in Daryl's hand.

“It's not beer, but I know you'll enjoy it anyway,” you said to him before heading up the stairs.

“She's sweet on you,” Rick said with a smile, teasing the man beside him about you as you skipped the last few steps.

“I know,” Daryl said as he went to look for other things inside the house. Rick looked back and forth between the stars and where Daryl had gone off, too. He laughed slightly.

“Those idiots,” Rick said, thinking they both had no clue about the other's feelings when everyone else was oblivious to their known feelings.

PRISON:

You stood on the watchtower, scouting the land ahead. Daryl and a few others had gone on another trip to look for supplies. You had your rifle on the railing as you watched, and then you set up their gear and trucks. Maggie slid in next to you. She watched you watch Daryl move around in the ground, setting up his motorcycle. He looked good down there; the way his body moved, his mussels, and even the way his hair was falling was driving you wild. Maggie caught a glimpse of you checking him out.

“You're so obvious,” she told you. You laughed slightly.

“Sorry,” you apologized; you knew you were obsessed with watching him, but how could you not? You’ve known Daryl for so many years now it was impossible not to watch or admire the man before you. You loved him, and he knew that. Daryl was also quite aware of your joys of watching him, sometimes he would put on more of a show of stretching or giving you those lustful eyes you knew would mean the two of you wouldn't get any sleep that night. It was his favorite thing to do to get you worked up throughout the day.

PRISON:

Daryl knew he was forgetting something before he even shut the truck's door. He heard her voice before she even reached the hill in the Prison.

“Wait.” Daryl glanced out the window of the truck, putting his arm out and waving. He knew she was smiling from that before her face popped up in his vision. “You forgot your water bottle!” Smiling up at him was you, his girl—Rick snickers from the seat beside Daryl.

“Thanks,” He said, grabbing the water bottle from your hand, “saving my ass.”

“Always am,” you responded, giving him a wink. Have a safe trip out.” As you said it, you turned with a wave and walked back up the hill. Swaying our hips bit as you did, you gave Daryl a show that you knew would make him come back to you tonight with a mission.

Daryl and Rick headed off on their scout to a new town they had spotted on the map, a few miles away from the other town they had picked clean. As the two looked around the houses, Daryl went through many jewelry cases for anything that might seem like something you would wear. Rick came in on him, picking through when he had found the perfect thing.

“She would love this,” Daryl said. Rick came up next to him, observing the (silver/gold) necklace with a bird on the end of the chain swinging in the air.

“Do you think about anything but her?” Rick asked, laughing as he exited the room to look in the one next to it. Daryl chuckled and shook his head. No, you were always on his mind.

Little did he know, Rick assumed Daryl had a massive crush on you, not that he had any suspicions you two were already together.

When they returned and Daryl was back sitting next to you on that mattress on the floor, he pulled out the necklace.

“I found it,” he told you, handing it over to you so you could see it. “I know how much ya miss these types of things.”

“Haha, did you know I missed jewelry?” You asked him, shocked he somehow knew how much you missed having something to wear around your neck. He nodded his head.

“I knew, ya mentioned it a while ago. Been looking for something for ya”

“Daryl,” you said with admiration. He put it around your neck; the man who you had met in a bar all those years ago was now putting a necklace on your neck in a run-down prison at the end of the world.

AFTER PRISON FALL:

“Daryl?” You said, besides Carol, who had just completed her job of destroying a massive facility of cannibal people. You had been with her, the girls, and Tyreese since the fall and had been so scared that Daryl didn't make it out of the prison. You had run out of the hut and left Tyrese once you heard the explosion. You had found Carol and walked over to the others and saw him.

Daryl didn't hesitate to run straight for you. You hugged me so tight you felt the air in your lungs stop for a moment, but you didn't care.

“I miss ta. I thought ya died,” Daryl said as he clung to your body. He had gone through hell to fight and find you, and here you were, not a scratch on you and in his arms again. That necklace still hung around your neck, a form of commitment to the both of you about who you were with.

“I'm alive. I'm alive,” you said as you held the man in your arms. The others stood and watched your reunion, no one thinking anything- “Wow, they must care for each other a lot.”

Once he broke off the hug, it was like looking into the eyes of the world again. You could see color, purpose, and meaning. He was everything to you.

AFTER TERMINUS:

After the terminus, Daryl stuck to your side. The two of you walked together, ate together, slept near each other, and went on runs together. When Carol and Daryl went to Atlanta, so did you.

“How long have you two been together?” she asked as you walked through another building in Atlanta. Daryl casually answered as he passed an office door with a walker trying to get out.

“Since Atlanta fell,” he answered. Carol stopped, turning back to the two of you.

“You've been together for more than three years?” She asked the two of you. “How did no one pick up on it?”

“Wait, what?” you asked, shocked, “How does no one know Daryl and me are together?”

“You two have never been very…affectionate,” she told the two of you. Darly glanced your way. The two of you laughed a little at that.

“Yea, that makes sense,” Daryl said. This was the moment the two of you started looking towards the others for any answers if they knew you were together. For the last few months on the road, getting to Alexandria yielded you the response that no one knew a thing. It caused a bit of agitation for the two of you about how maybe your attitudes about being affectionate were causing more harm than good.

ALEXANDRIA:

Once you all had gotten settled in and jobs were assigned, you all started to try and live a normal life again.Since moving into the two houses, you shared a space with Miccone, Rick, Carol, Daryl, and the kids. You and Darly took a room downstairs along with Carol down the hall, and the rest were split in the rooms upstairs. No one questioned you staying with Daryl or even looked at the fact that there was only one king bed in that room with the two of you.

While Darly was assigned to go on runs to look for people, you were assigned daycare and teacher duty at the house designated for the school. It kept you busy while Darly was away, and on the days you had off or no one showed, you hung around with Crol or took watch. Many days, you walked around the complex, taking in the signs and the ability to walk in peace. That was until one day.

“Hey, you're one of the women from the new group, right?” a man asked as you walked back to your shared house. You could see Daryl on the porch talking with Carol, but he had not seen you yet.

“Uh yeah,” you said, continuing to walk back; the man pulled your arm to face him.

“You know it's rude to keep walking when someone is talking to you. Or did you forget that after living in the wild for so long?”

“I didn't forget anything; I just don't want to talk to you,” you told the man, shaking your arm out of his grasp and walking faster towards the house. Finally, you made eye contact with Daryl. The way his face looked, you knew it was because he had heard. The man didn't stop trying.

“Hey, don't walk away from me,” he said, running back up to you, grabbing your arm so hard and pulling and making you stumble back. “What if I'm not good enough for you? Can’t a man ask a girl for some action or what?” he said, pulling you closer to him.

“Stop it,” you yelled back, but you didn't have to fight hard. Daryl was a flash before being by your side, and the man's face was flush against his fist.

“Touch me woman again, and that's the least I'll do to ya,” he said. The man froze as he looked up at you from the ground. That was the day you realized the longer people didn't know either of you was together, the more people would try and come up to you, assuming you were not.

Daryl went to bed that night, angry. You knew it wasn't towards you, but the coldness in the room made you feel like the world was ending if you and him couldn't be more open.

ALEXANDRIA:

‘What if you two just got married?” Carol asked as she was cooking in the kitchen. You paused your reading from the chair in the living room to look into the kitchen at Carol.

“What?’ You asked, shocked by her expression. She turned away from what she was cooking on the stove to talk to you.

“Well, since the people in Alexandria won't take the hint you've taken, and Daryl's upset, and also the issue of our own family not knowing…maybe you should just go out, find some rings, and get married.”

“I…hadn't thought of that,” you told her. “You think Daryl would be okay with that?”

“I think Daryl is more on board with that idea than you think, y/n,” Carol told you. She knew about the distance that had been caused by the repetitive men hitting on you. The guy whose nose was broken never once tried to come up to you and denied anything happening with you when others asked. No one knew what Darly had said that day apart from those there. The decision was made, at least on your part. You stomped your way over to Aaron's house. When he answered the door, you stomped in.

“Need Daryl,” was all you said before heading to the back of his house to the garage. There, Daryl's bike sat as he tinkered with it. You slammed the door open, causing Daryl's head to look towards the door. A shutter went through the house.

“The hell, woman..” Darly almost got out.

“Marry me,” you said when he was almost done speaking. Daryl's mouth closed, looking at you. “Do you need me to repeat myself? Daryl Dixion, marry me.”

“Ya no, I heard ya y/n,” he said, standing up, “why?’

“Why? Because I love you, and no one can even tell I do or that we have been together for more than four years,” you told him, frustrated by the string of events of the past year.

“You want to marry me?” Daryl asked, taking your face in his grease-covered hands.

“Yes,” you told him, smiling.

EVERYONE'S REACTIONS:

Rick was holding a dinner for the family that night. Carol completed a large spread, and everyone showed up. You and Daryl were late. When you showed up, the two of you were holding hands. Michone was the first to welcome the new development.

“You guys waited long enough,” she joked, causing other heads to turn. Daryl looked down at his feet, and you just let out a sigh.

“We didn't, though,” you told them. Everyone looked twords you two in confusion.

“Didn't what?” Michone asked, clearly confused by what was happening.

“We've been together for four years,” Darly said, “And we just got married to prove it.” He lifted his hand to show the gold band on his finger, and yours lifted as well, showing the (silver/gold) band with a few small diamonds on it. The two of you had found a jewelry store and had fun picking out your ring, while Darly wanted something simple.

“Holy shit,” Abraham said.

“Wait, what? '' Carl shouted, clearly confused about how his uncle had been together with you for so long, and he didn't know.

“Congratulations,” Carol answered. Everyone else was shocked. “Oh, I've known about them for a while.”

“Tonight's dinner story is how the two of you got together,” Rick said as he motioned for the others to sit, “And no one is leaving out any details.”

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixion #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl dixon #fanfic #daryl x reader

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mishietishie · 2 days

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Nanami dating headcanons!

Tw: fluffiest fluff I can come up with 😊, grammar mistakes, Nanami being a gentleman 🤧🤧, marriage and mentions of having children, and I think that's it

A/N: I'll maybe write Sukuna headcanons after this one!!

Okay, so first of all, this man would treat you like a PRINCESS!!! Like he's so sweet and patient with you, offering to drive or walk you home after dates or work.

I feel like he'd come to your office during lunchtime to have lunch with you! He'd also do this when you guys are still in the friendzone, saying he believed it was a good way to spend time together (he just wanted an excuse to see you 🫠)

He likes to call you "honey, sweetheart, darling, dearest, my love," and when he's feeling extra intimate he'll call you "my little ray of sunshine" because you always brighten up his days 🥺🥺

He'd take you on all kinds of dates! Such as restaurants, having a picnic, going ice skating (mostly in the winter), watching movies together (mostly at home because he doesn't like how dirty the movie theaters can get sometimes), stargazing, watching the sunset with you, taking a walk through a forest or park, etc!! He's willing to try a lot of things with you, even if it doesn't sound appealing to him the first time 😇!

He really likes baking for and with you! But he wouldn't mind if you decided to surprise him with a tasty treat 😋

He'd totally want to marry you!! I see him as a sort of traditional man, so he'd definitely ask your father/parents for your hand in marriage (your parents are OBSESSED with him, so ofc they'd say yes!!)

Once he has permission, he'll buy you the prettiest ring he can find and plan a trip to Malaysia with you instead of going on the Shibuya mission!🥹

He planned everything perfectly for the proposal! First, you two would enjoy the tanning on the beach, eat fine cuisine (of your choice obvi 😋😋) at a restaurant near y'alls hotel and during sunset he would ask you to take a stroll with him on the beach while watching the sunset!! And when the sun is just on the right angle, he'd give you a whole confession about his love and wishing to take the next step with you before he kneels on one knee and holds out the ring box to you uttering those 4 simple, yet heartwarming words

"Will you marry me?"

And then you guys have the most beautiful wedding you could ever hope for! It's not too big, but not too small, just the perfect number of people are invited for you to feel comfortable! (He really did think about everything!)

After the wedding, he'd dream about saving enough money to quit his job and retire early and have children with you! His heart always melts at the thought of having a little baby boy or girl in his arms :((((( he's so cute I wanna eat him

And when the day arrives and he hears you're pregnant, his eyes brighten up just like when you said yes to his marriage proposal, embracing you in a gentle yet loving hug. Promising to not only you but the baby in your belly too that he'll be the best father he can be

Thank you for reading to the end!

Smooches!! 😚😚

-Misha

#mishietishie #jjk #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami headcanons #jjk fluff

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cloudlessly-light · 1 day

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Hello! I love your fic where Aaron is obsessed with Ems breasts. Maybe you could write more but also Em has nipple piercing??? And Aarons obsession with it? Thank you 🫶

A/N: Thank you so much for the feedback on this story, you guys don't even know how motivating it is and it definitely made me write the next couple of chapters a lot faster!

Title: Love like mine (2/11) Chapter title: I’ll leave you hypnotized Summary: He wasn’t a cheater. Until her. Word count: 3,2k Rating: Explicit Warnings (for this chapter): Smut, dirty talk, nipple play, nipple piercings, breast fucking, Aaron loves her breasts, but who wouldn’t? cheating

It seemed like once they started, they couldn’t seem to stop. She had walked into work the following day and they lasted until the end of it before she sneaked into his office and sucked him off as he stood against the door, hiding from view as her lips wrapped around him until he was spilling down her throat with his teeth dug into his fist to keep from being heard.

And that’s the beginning of their affair, something that’s filthy, hidden behind closed doors. It was something that was theirs, that no one else knew about and they were both happy to keep it that way. Emily thought that she’d feel worse, thought she’d have some kind of regret about what she was doing. But at the end of the day she wasn’t the one who was married. Although she could see it on him sometimes, flashes of it, a split second of worry, of guilt, but then he was looking at her with nothing short of want and the guilt was gone as quickly as it came.

Behind the locked door of her apartment, nothing really existed but them, and the pleasure they chased in each other’s skin. That’s all it was, an itch that needed scratching, that still hadn’t changed. Aaron used her just like she used him, pleasures and desires shared between her soft sheets, and sometimes on other surfaces of her apartment.

He was sure he’d never be able to be inside her home without thinking about her naked. He’d be in the kitchen and remember when he bent her over the counter, both of them mostly dressed as he fucked her until the front of her thighs was bruised from the power of his thrusts and he was coming with a low groan. Or he’d walk down the stairs and think about how she hadn’t been able to wait and rode him right there on the stairs, ignoring the way the hard edges dug into his back as she mewled his name in pleasure. Then it was the couch, the shower, hell even against the large window in the living room looking out over DC, basically every surface of her home was painted with them. And he found himself loving it.

It was memories he thought of almost fondly, even as he shared a bed with his wife. Sometimes he wondered what he was doing, would look at Haley’s relaxed face as she slept beside him and it hurt knowing that he was doing something that was hurting her. But he couldn’t seem to stop, whatever it was he had found within the walls of Emily’s apartment was something he didn’t want to give up. And he was selfish enough not to.

“Do you have plans tonight?” He asks as he leans back against the counter in the kitchenette in the office. To a bystander it looked like a normal relationship between coworkers, but Emily caught the slight arch of his eyebrow right before he took a sip of his coffee and she bit back a smirk.

“No I don’t.” She took a drink out of her own mug. “What about you? Got anything fun planned with the family this weekend?” The way her eyes gleam with something dark makes him want to wrap his hand around her throat.

“No, Haley is taking Jack to visit her parents until Sunday, they should be on their way right now actually.” He can see the way her smirk turns bigger but she hides it behind the cup in her hand.

“Would you want to go with me to see a play?” Spencer interrupts them, his voice excited as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “They’re showing Oedipus Rex. It’s a Greek tragedy about a man who fulfills a prophecy by killing his father and marries his mother. It’s actually fascinating, the point of it being fate versus free will-” He starts to ramble but is quickly cut off by Emily’s amused stare as Aaron clears his throat.

“I was actually going to take it easy, maybe see an old friend.” He gives the younger man a blank stare.

“Oh, well if you change your mind it’s only about two hours.” Spencer looks to Emily who simply shakes her head.

“I’m sorry Reid, maybe another time.” She smiles at him and tries not to feel bad about lying to him. Their relationship was still strained, his behavior toward her shifting often even after she had confronted him about it.

“It’s okay.” He shrugs and picks up his mug from the counter where he had put it. “I should finish some paperwork though.” He excuses himself and heads back towards his desk.

Once he’s gone and they’re alone, her eyes find his and any thought of Spencer Reid was gone.

“Want to have a sleepover with me, Mr. Hotchner?” She grins at the way his eyes narrow slightly at her.

“A sleepover huh?” The way his voice has dropped in that familiar way sends a tingle down her spine.

“A naked sleepover.” She says it quietly, just a second of standing too close to whisper the words against his ear before she stands back and walks back to her desk.

When she turns to look at him she can see the subtle nod of agreement. Suddenly she couldn’t wait for their weekend to start.

He shows up late, later than necessary, stuck somewhere between rushing through work to get to her place and knowing that this was new, even dangerous. Their time together had so far consisted of quick trysts and goodbyes mumbled in the dead of night. They didn’t do this, didn’t spend time together, except the few minutes before and after inevitably falling into bed.

But he couldn’t deny the need he felt for her, the way his body almost shook with the all-consuming want that only got worse the closer he was to knocking on her door.

She opens it dressed in nothing but a black, sheer negligee and he peaks the small metal bars in her nipples that he loves so much shine under the lights. Ever since they started sleeping together he had loved them, had spent time playing with them and watching as Emily arched further into his touch, always wanting more.

It had been close to two weeks since he’d seen them, work and not having an excuse to sneak off to see her to Haley enough for them to not having had time together. And when they did, it was hurried, frenzied, flies zipped down and pants pulled down just enough for them to find the kind of release they’d gotten used to by now.

“Hey.” She greets him, always collected, always hard to read, still somehow a mystery to him.

“Sorry I’m late.” Any doubt he had was gone the second he laid eyes on her, the usual fog of arousal he now associated with her quickly overcoming him. He pushed her back into her apartment, hands stroking over the material of her slip.

“I was beginning to think you had changed your mind.” She sighs into a kiss, the taste of him familiar to her by now. They stumble backwards as she starts to work on the buttons of his shirt, silently curses him for not wearing something that’s easier to get off.

“I almost did.” He swallows up whatever words on her tongue by kissing her again while he strips her of the only article of clothing she’s wearing. Her back connects with the wall and he pushes her against it easily, hand quickly finding its way between her legs.

“Why?” She whispers as he teasingly trails the pad of his fingers along the seam of her, collecting her slick on every run through.

“Because of this.” He holds his other hand up, the gold ring on his finger shining as he pushes that same finger into her mouth and watches with dark eyes as she sucks it. He watches in fascination as she sucks his finger deeper, down to his wedding band where her tongue licks over it, making his hard cock ache inside his slacks.

“Like that’s stopped you before.” She says once he’s pulled his finger from her lips to gently trace her nipple.

“I tried, but you have a knack for getting what you want.” He pulls gently on her nipple and then tugs the piercing while he buries two fingers inside of her and her head falls back against the wall with a soft moan. “Besides, you like it. We both know that one of the reasons why you want me is because I’m married.”

“That’s not true.” She argues but she knew that there really wasn’t any point. He could read her better than most, had figured that out even before their first night together and he proves it as he arches an eyebrow and looks at her with eyes that seems to set her ablaze.

“Isn’t it?” He asks as his fingers curl and she can’t keep the deep groan down. “There’s my girl.” He muses as he enjoys the way her center clenches at the praise. Then his eyes wander down to her chest and he ducks his head enough to lick over one of her nipples. When he bites it just hard enough for it to sting she whimpers and he hums against her skin.

“Bedroom.” She mutters as her fingers find their way to his hair to grip the short strands, wanting him messy, to not be as put together as he always was.

“Lead the way.” His voice is thick with arousal as he steps back enough for her to take his hand and head up to the bedroom. His other hand moves over her body, can’t seem to stop touching her. Once they’re upstairs he helps her with the rest of his clothes, not caring where they land on her floor just as long as he gets some relief from the close to painful ache between his legs.

“I’ve missed these.” He mumbles against her sternum as he kisses over her chest, fingers tweaking her nipples as she arches into his touch. “There’s something about these piercings that drives me insane.” He licks over a nipple before sucking on it and he feels her fingers back in his hair, tugging hard.

“I know.” She smirks down at him from where he’s kneeling between her legs, too focused on her chest to notice the slight teasing tone of voice. “I can see how you try to see them through my shirts at work. Sometimes I’m tempted to not wear a bra.”

He groans at the thought, of Emily walking into his office in one of those damn shirts that are just bordering on being too tight and the piercings showing through the fabric and he grinds his hips against the bed.

“I’d keep you under my desk, have my cock between your tits until I’m staining them with my cum.” He hears the hitch in her breath at his words before moving up to kiss her.

“Is that what you want?” She mumbles against his lips. “To have me as your toy? To use as you see fit?” When he ruts against her and stains her thigh with precum she grins knowingly. “Dirty boy.”

He’s so lost in the feel of her soft body against his and her silky voice in his ear that he’s caught off guard when she flips them around, a low groan rumbling in his chest when she settles above him. Immediately he sits up, his large hands grabbing at her hips to pull her against him as he buries his face in her chest again, sucking and biting hard enough to leave bruises on her skin.

Emily lets him, even when her nipples start to ache from the constant stimulation from his lips and tongue, knows that he could spend hours just concentrating on her breasts if she’d allow it. Secretly, she loves how much he enjoyed her body, felt a sense of satisfaction knowing that he would worship her for hours if he could. When she sinks down on him it’s slow, her body always needing to adjust to him and as he grunts around her nipple, she grinds her hips against his.

“How do you always feel so good?” She gasps as she starts to move. Her fingers are gripping his shoulders tightly, less careful now that she knows that he’s not going straight home. He had left numerous marks on her body since they started sleeping together, it was only fair that she’d leave hers just this once.

She rides him unlike how anybody ever had, she used his body for her own pleasure and as much as Aaron loved to be the one in control, there was something about knowing how much she got off on him letting her use him this way that always made his mind hazy with arousal. He knew that his insistent mouth on her chest must be starting to hurt, her skin red, almost raw and flushed, but she only pushed her chest against his face, offering her body to him willingly and his hips pushed up in response.

His hand banded over her back, helped her move above him even as he kept her close to him. It wasn’t long until her body was starting to tense, her moans coming out louder and breathier. When her hips buckled and her fingers tugged on his hair to pull him away from her chest, he knew she was getting close.

“You look so good like this.” He mumbled quietly, knew that she needed the slight nudge of his words to fall off the edge. “Gorgeous thing, fucking my cock so well.”

“Aaron, fuck-” Her words were cut off by a sharp thrust from him and she heard the satisfaction in his voice when he spoke.

“That’s it, so pretty like this, come for me Em, let me see you.” He moved one hand from her hip to instead grab the back of her neck, his large hand easily gripping it so he could watch her face. Only moments later he felt her tense as her eyes rolled back and mouth fell open in pleasure.

Her entire body felt like it exploded as her hips moved desperately against his, a guttural groan leaving her as she came. The pleasure was close to blinding, her eyesight going blurry and the only sound she heard was the thumping of her heart. She’s still coming down when he flips them back around and starts thrusting, his hips strong against hers.

“Fucking perfect.” He mutters against her neck as he chases his own release. “So good, my filthy perfect girl.” When her lips curled into a smile he looked down at her with heated eyes.

“Fuck my tits.” She gasped and she swore he forces himself keep his release at bay. “Fuck my tits and cum like you fantasize about.”

The sound that leaves him when he crawls up her body to straddle her waist was nothing short of a growl. Graveled and low and loud as he watched his swollen shaft land between her breasts. She pushed them together and he immediately started to thrust, eyes locked on the way his head peaked out through the top each time.

“Pain my skin with it.” She encouraged him, her dark eyes locked on the wild look on his face. His jaw clenched, sweat was slowly rolling down his neck, his body tensing more with every push of his hips. “Come for me, Aaron.”

“Jesus Christ, Em.” He hissed through clenched teeth and then she ducked her head enough to swipe her tongue over the tip of him and he was coming. His fist hit the wall as he groaned, his hips twitching as his release hit her skin everywhere from between her breasts to the hollow of her throat and her chin. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight and when Emily swiped her finger through some of his cum and then licked the pad of her finger, he knew she might be the death of him.

He forcefully pulled her up to kiss him, tasting himself on her tongue with a growl and she kissed him back just as forcefully. When he pulled back her dark eyes were gleaming, his reaction to her always deeply satisfying.

“I’m going to eat you out until I’ve had my fill, and then I’m fucking you again.” He whispered against her face before moving down the bed.

She smiles and spreads her legs wider, because in what world would she say no to that?

They spend the night together, for the first time a whole night, lost in pleasure and each other and the next morning Emily wakes up to the smell of coffee coming from her kitchen. Her body aches in the most delicious way as she stretches on the bed. She grabs his shirt from the floor and puts it on, only buttoning one button in the middle of her chest before walking downstairs.

She finds him in the kitchen, pouring the coffee as eggs are cooking in a frying pan.

“Good morning.” Her voice is rough from moaning and sleep and she can tell that Aaron enjoys the way it sounds.

“Good morning.” He smiles and pushes the mug across the counter for her to take. “Did you sleep well?” His eyes rake over her frame and tries to ignore the way he finds himself liking how she looks in his clothes.

“Like a log.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “How long have you been up?” She peaks past him to see groceries she knew she most certainly didn’t have the night before on the counter.

“Not too long. I did get us some food through, you know since your fridge was empty except for wine and milk.” He teases and she arches an eyebrow in faux hurt.

“I’m sure I had something in the freezer!”

“You did not.” He laughs when she rolls her eyes at him. It was surprisingly easy, being with her this way, he thought.

“I’ll have you know you’ve just robbed my kitchen of its virginity.” It’s her turn to laugh when his eyes get big in surprise.

“Are you telling me that you’ve never cooked in here?” He puts the fried eggs on the plates along with the toast and some berries.

“I’m never home! And when I am I usually get takeout.” She defends but he only shakes his head at her. “I’ll have you know, wine, coffee and milk are all the essentials I need.”

“Emily!” He chastises, but his tone is teasing and soft as he carries the plates to the table. “I’m cooking dinner, you’re doing the dishes.” He smiles when she nods and sits down next to him happily.

It shouldn’t have been so easy, deciding to spend the day together. But neither of them wanted to worry about that. At least not now.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction

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