#pls read all warnings before reading the series itself

[lostfracturess]

symptoms and causes | ch. 11

ღ pairing professor gojo x med student reader

ღ summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

ღ wc 13.5 k (enjoy your meal lol)

ღ warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive and abusive behavior, manipulation, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

ღ author's note hey loves!! thank you so much for your patience, i know it's been a while. buckle up, because we're taking another trip inside satoru's mind, so yeahhh. it's gonna be wild, oh and we're continuing right were we left off in the last chapter. this chapter is again in satoru's pov!! i've also updated the trigger warnings, so please take a look before reading (might be spoiling tho). and lastly, credit to the fanart in the cover, if you know the artist, pls let me know!! can't wait to hear what you all think & thanks for sticking with me!! ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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They say before you can love someone else, you have to love yourself first.

And there lies the damn problem. 

I don't know how. 

Never have.

Why am I thinking this now? 

I knew this was right. 

Right for her. 

But then why does my heart feel like it's being ripped out by the fucking roots?

Suguru will take care of her. He always does. That's the only thing that keeps me from screaming, keeps me from chasing after her.

I trust him, damn it, but it shouldn't be him.

It should be me holding her. Me, who knows how she likes to be held when the panic claws its way up. Me, holding her until the world feels less sharp, less cruel.  

Me, who knows that she doesn't want to talk about it. Me, who knows to give her space. She needs space. My strong girl needs space first. 

I hope he gives her space.

But he wouldn't know any of this. He couldn't comfort her in the ways I instinctively knew how. 

Me, who knows how to soothe the invisible wounds, the ones even she denies exist. Me, who knows the soft words she needs to hear after it passes.

It shouldn't be him. 

Sorry. 

It shouldn't have been him.

Past tense. 

It all might be past tense now.

And the thought is more than I could bear.

Shattered. 

Was that the word?

Was there even a word for what I felt in that moment?

How could I ever convey this suffocating agony that's tearing me apart with mere words?

Words are meaningless in the end.

Meaningless when they couldn't be spoken to her, couldn't reach her, couldn't make her understand, couldn't heal the wound I'd carved into her heart.

So, yeah, maybe shattered is the right word. 

The wrong word.

The sterile air was acid in my lungs. Each ragged breath felt like sandpaper against my throat. I held my breath, a desperate plea for the world to stop spinning, for the clock to rewind, for a chance to undo everything.

But time doesn't care. 

It marched on, relentless, while I stayed trapped in this hell, drowning in the mess I made. 

My lungs burned. My vision blurred. I waited until she disappeared. The world seemed to tilt sideways, losing all color and shape, leaving only the sharp, agonizing realization that I'd made her walk away.

I didn't want to breathe anymore.

Not in a world where every breath ached without her.

"Dr. Gojo?" A voice, distant, muffled. 

Irrelevant.

My gaze flickered to Sukuna. He watched, a predator savoring the kill. 

His twisted smile fueled rage within me. But there would be no fighting this. No grand defense. Not when her life was the bargaining chip.

So, I lied. 

Each word a nail in the coffin of the connection I craved more than life itself.

Each word a drop of poison forced down my throat. A self-inflicted wound, a desperate mutilation of the only thing that had ever felt real.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes I loved so fiercely, wide with confusion and horror. The strangled gasp, the way her body went limp in Geto's arms — a haunting image that would forever be etched on my heart.

Muscles screamed, a silent protest against my own pathetic stillness. But I remained frozen. 

This was my punishment. 

I had to watch her leave, had to sear the pain into my very being, an endless penance for the choices I'd made.

The door clicked shut behind them.

That simple sound, final, absolute.

My lungs filled with air, a betrayal. Oxygen I didn't deserve, didn't want. 

My own body, this treacherous thing kept going, kept me alive against my will, kept me tethered to this cruel reality.

The room swam back into focus, the judges' accusing faces nothing but a blurry backdrop. The sounds of their inquest washed over me like meaningless noise.

"Dr. Gojo? Can we continue?"

I nodded.

They pressed on. More questions about the research, her involvement, their accusations of favoritism.

How stupid.

Of course, I favored her. 

How could I not? 

She is everything.

Oh, sorry. Forgot. Past tense.

She was everything.

Did I regret it? 

Did I wish I could go back and treat her with the same damn indifference I afforded everyone else?

Yeah, maybe.

A familiar craving stirred my senses, the desperate need for the numbing escape that would mean failing her even more. My fingers clawed at my forearm, trying to replace the hollowness with physical pain. It wasn't enough.

My responses were rote, mechanical.

Yeah, I favored her. 

Yeah, I let her into the OR because of it.

Yeah, and she outshone every damn surgeon twice her age. 

No, she didn't know I'd set it up. 

No, she never asked for special treatment. She just worked until her eyes were bloodshot, pushing harder than anyone else.

And hell no, she didn't do a single thing wrong.

Except maybe — maybe loving me. 

After what felt like an eternity, the judges seemed satisfied, or perhaps just exhausted by my robotic replies. 

They painted me the arrogant professor with a weakness for a young student, who abused his power, who played favorites.

Whatever they wanted to believe, fine.

Didn't even have the energy to care anymore.

Let them drag my name through the mud, tarnish the reputation I'd worked so hard to build. 

Because the title, the position, the facade of success meant nothing when all I wanted was to rewind time, to undo the damage I'd done to the one person who truly mattered.

I didn't feel anymore.

I was done.

─── ·✧· ───

I burst out of the courtroom.

I needed escape, not just from this sterile prison of a room, but from my own traitorous flesh.

That itch.

It was a wildfire beneath my skin, a thousand insects gnawing their way to the surface. My fingers twitched, claws desperate to tear, to bleed out the poison of this relentless craving.

My legs moved without conscious thought, pushing me towards my office. Somewhere. Anywhere I would be able to breathe again. The guilt was a serrated blade twisting in my gut, each movement slicing me open anew.

Her terror-stricken eyes seared into my very soul.

The walls of my office closed in, the familiar space suddenly too small, too suffocating. 

My fist slammed into the desk. Papers scattered to the floor, a meaningless sea of white against the dark wood.

They didn't matter. None of it mattered.

A half-finished coffee mug followed. Porcelain shattered. Dark liquid splashed against the wall. 

My blood roared in my ears. 

Across the room, my framed diploma. I ripped it off the wall. Glass smashed. Sharp edges bit into my palm, drawing blood. But it wasn't enough. I hurled the frame against the wall.

Blood, hot and slick, coated my hands, the pain nothing.

In the shattered frame, I caught a glimpse of myself — wild eyes in a sweat-slicked face, a man on the verge of collapse.

It was a stranger.

I was across the room before I even registered the decision.

The drawer.

My fingers ripped it open. 

There, like a coiled viper, the amber vial gleamed, a venomous promise of oblivion.

Don't —

Don't come at me now. 

Did you really think I wouldn't keep a backup?

My hand reached, then hesitated.

The world lurched to a sharp halt as a knock pierced the chaos. My breath hitched, the vial a burning brand in my bloodied hand.

The door creaked open.

And there he was. Sukuna. 

He leaned against the doorframe, that sickening smirk plastered on his face. It was like a lit fuse to a powder keg. The rage that had been gnawing at my insides, tearing me apart, finally found its target.

Before a single rational thought could form, I was on him. Fist to jaw, heard the crack, felt it in my knuckles. He stumbled back, the smirk finally wiping off his face.

I pinned him against the door. Forearm across his throat, crushing his windpipe. His eyes widened, but even then, there was that damn flicker of amusement.

"Well, well," he choked out, "this is a nice welcome back."

"Funny to you?"

He coughed, a harsh laugh scraping out of him. "C'mon, Satoru, relax. I did you a favor," he sputtered. "Your precious little student, she's better off now. You know I'm right."

Every muscle in my body tensed.

He was right. 

In his twisted way, he was. 

And that's what made it all so much worse.

My grip on his throat tightened. But there was nothing, no satisfactio, no release in the violence.

Sukuna saw it, the hesitation. His mouth twisted into a smirk again. "See, you get it. Sweet thing doesn't belong in this mess, does she? It's not for her, Satoru. It's for us."

His words scraped like nails on a chalkboard. 

Yes, she was safer now, untouched by the rot that festered within me. Some desperate, logical part of me clung to that. But how could I hold on to that when my heart was screaming for her closeness?

"Or maybe," Sukuna drawled, pushing the knife deeper, "maybe you wanted to see where this goes. Stain her a bit, make her just a little bit more like you."

My breath hitched. For a split second, the floor vanished beneath me.

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

"Shut the hell up!" I couldn't face it, couldn't face the ugly truth as it would tear me apart. "You twist everything. Play with lives just for your own sick amusement."

This was his game.

Sukuna thrived on chaos, on exploiting pain. 

He knew my guilt, my fear for her, and wielded it like a scalpel, laying bare the raw nerve of my fragile sanity.

"Perhaps. But ain't I right?  You needed to end it, but you lack the guts for it. Waited a bit longer, it'd be a total disaster."

I hesitated, then my grip on him slackened. I stepped back.

"You know I'm right," Sukuna continued. "You know how this would have ended. Suspension. Scandal. She'll be doomed forever for getting involved with her professor for favors. You wouldn't destroy her like that, would you? You're not that cruel."

"I'm not so sure." I ran a hand through my hair.  It had taken everything in me to push her away. 

But I can't deny that an ugly part of me wanted to keep her close. Drag her down with me. 

See her drown.

"Damn, you hit hard," he said, rubbing his jaw. "Go beat up some students again, not me."

"Stop giving me reasons to punch you."  Exhausted, I slumped into my desk chair, burying my face in my hands. My head pounded, the infuriating itch worsening with each damn moment. "Was this your plan all along?"

"What?" he scoffed.

I lifted a single eyebrow at him.

"You think that low of me? Honestly, Toru, a bit of credit, please. It was your pathetic indecision that made this entertaining. You basically gift-wrapped this mess and handed it to me."

"Besides," he continued, "let's be honest, you were holding her back. Now maybe she'll have a chance to become someone who might surpass you one day. You wouldn't deny her that, would you? No thanks needed."

He was right, and I hated that more than anything.

Sukuna sank into the chair across from me, a picture of smug satisfaction despite the visible bruise. "Damn, that punch still stings."

I opened my desk drawer and wordlessly tossed him the bottle of opioids. His eyes widened in surprise, before he gave the bottle a knowing shake. "Still on the hydromorphone?"

I didn't answer. The sound alone threatened to shatter what fragile control I had left. The itch was unbearable, each nerve ending screaming for relief.

Sukuna observed me, a predator watching its prey struggle. "Withdrawal never suited you," he said, popping a pill. "You always get so—" he paused, savoring the word, "—tense."

"Yeah, real supportive of you."

"Actually, I'm being incredibly supportive. I'm leaving for a little research trip overseas—four months. Ethics committee can't meet without me, so—" He leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. "Gives you time to get your shit together. Isn't that nice of me?"

"Shut the hell up."

"C'mon, I put in a good word for you too. No suspension for now. You can keep teaching, just no surgeries. Yaga really hates my guts, doesn't he? But hey, at least you're not totally screwed."

"You expect a thank you?"

"Relax, Toru, the show's over," he said. "Trust me, they don't want a scandal, let alone lose their star surgeon. When I get back, a slap on the wrist, maybe a semester's suspension, then you're back to the boring old grind."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Last I checked, you were the one pushing for a scandal."

He rolled his eyes. "Someone had to do it. Knew you'd drag this out forever, playing the tragic hero. Needed a villain to get things moving." He gave a mocking bow. "At your service, my friend."

"Also," he continued, leaning forward in his chair, "the focus is off you now. The committee's sniffing around those implant engineers. Funny, isn't it?" 

Sukuna paused, savoring the moment. "Honestly, never thought there was anything wrong with your surgeries. You wouldn't make that kind of mistake. Tech malfunction more likely."

Of course. 

The bastard never doubted the damn research. It had all been a game to him — my career, my sanity, her — just pieces on his chessboard.

It should've made me furious, lash out, pound his face in again — but all I felt was a bone-deep exhaustion, a weariness that seeped into my very soul. I was too tired, too hollowed-out to do anything but swallow the bitter truth.

"That supposed to make me feel better?" 

"A little," he said, tossing the opioid bottle back. "This, though? That'll do the trick even better."

I caught it, my fingers clenching around the plastic.

He rose, stretching with a theatrical sigh. "Well, time to go. Remember, you owe me big time. You should take one," he gestured towards the pills, "you look like shit."

My grip on the bottle tightened. I looked up at him. "When all of this is done, I never want to see your damn face again."

He laughed. "We both know that's a lie. You and me? We need each other."

"The only thing you need is some damn therapy."

"Ah, Toru," he dismissed me with a smirk, "you'll come crawling back soon enough. We both know how this works."

With that, he was gone. I was left alone in the echoing silence, the pill bottle a burning weight in my hand. The world seemed to sway around me, my eyelids growing heavy.

The will to fight simply wasn't there anymore.

─── ·✧· ───

Cruel. 

Cruel how one little pill can undo everything. 

Cruel how one little pill can silence everything. 

Cruel how one damn pill can soften the world, make it — bearable, almost.

Unfair. 

It's truly unfair.

The screaming under my skin, that relentless itch — it's still there, but it had dulled to a faint hum, pushed back by the familiar numbness.

Finally.

Oh, finally some fucking silence.

I let out a shaky breath. It wasn't peace, not really. I knew that all too well. Borrowed time, each second ticking closer to the inevitable crash, the return of that relentless screaming in my head.

But for now, it'll have to be enough.

I collapsed on the couch, smoke curling lazily before my eyes.

I knew I shouldn't mix opioids with cannabis. That's something they teach you within the first year of university. What I used to teach students within the first year of university.

What a hypocrite I am really.

Another drag — harsh, burning down my throat. 

The urge to close my eyes, to sink into oblivion, was almost overwhelming. But sleep wouldn't bring respite. Only nightmares. I knew that only too well.

So, I lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

It really came down to me failing again, huh?

What was it now?

Attempt number five? 

Six?

I started losing count.

Maybe this was my fate.

A broken record, stuck on the same damn track.

Deep down, under the chemical haze, guilt gnawed at me. It was a dull ache now, no longer the searing pain of earlier, but a constant, insidious reminder. 

She were out there, her life forever marked by my choices, while I was — here. Hiding in a haze of pills and smoke.

God, I hoped Suguru was looking after her. Making sure she ate, making sure she was safe — that she didn't hate me too much.

I brought the joint to my lips again, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling. It left an acrid taste in my mouth.

I watched my hand for a second.

Bloodied earlier, the wounds had scabbed over, the blood dried. It was perfectly still now, the trembling smoothed out by the chemicals in my blood. 

I clenched it into a fist, then unclenched, watching the movement like it belonged to someone else.

Traitor.

This body was a traitor — betrayed myself, betrayed her, betrayed everything I held dear.

Weak. 

Broken.

A pathetic mess.

Was that it?

Living as a slave to these chemicals to patch up my crumbling sanity one day at a time? 

Chained to pills, each dawn a ticking clock until the next dose, until I could silence the screaming for a few damn hours?

My eyes locked onto the half-empty vial on the table. 

Took too many, didn't I?

I knew that, even through the haze. But a cold certainty twisted in my gut. There'd be more. Always more. Until there was nothing left.

Before I could think, I threw another down my throat. Bad idea, probably, after a few clean days.

Suddenly, the haze warped, twisting into nausea. Bile rose in my throat.

I lurched to my feet, the world tilting precariously with each step. Surfaces rippled, the bathroom light stabbing into my skull.

I barely made it. My stomach heaved. Each retch wracked my body, leaving me gasping, weak.

Too many. 

Way too many.

How the hell did I forget? Forget my body's limits? Somehow, I felt like some reckless student again, stumbling through experiments, blind to the consequences.

Stupid. So damn stupid.

Darkness swam at the edges of my vision.  Another wave of nausea, and I was back, hunched over the toilet. 

I hauled myself up, hands shaking, clinging to the sink. In the mirror, a stranger stared back. Eyes bloodshot, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.

This wasn't me anymore.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the acid burn. Didn't help. Drops of water ran down my face, felt like they were melting the damn skin off.

My knees buckled. I slid down the wall, my head heavy against the tile wall. 

The bathroom light, needles in my brain moments ago, seemed impossibly distant now. Each breath was a ragged gasp, each pulse a dull throb in my temples.

I waited for it to pass, the nausea, the haze. But as minutes crawled by, a new, searing pain gnawed at me.

My fingers trembled against my abdomen, pressing into the tender spot. Liver, of course. 

Wrecked it, just like the rest of me. I'd known the risks, had ignored the warnings, and now my body was demanding payment.

How pathetic.

Darkness gnawed at the edges of my vision, pushing back against the stubborn spots of light. My head felt heavy, detached from my body. Arms and legs useless.

Each breath a battle I wasn't sure I'd win.

Time warped. Stretching, then snapping, leaving me floating in nausea and pain. Then I heard something — muffled, distant. Footsteps, getting closer.

My eyes struggled to make sense of the shifting shadows.

Then, a voice. Soft, achingly familiar. I couldn't make out the words, but the warmth of it—

I knew that voice — would always recognize it.

Cold water hit my skin. Hands, gentle, but firm, on my face. I strained to focus, to see her, to soak in the sight I needed, yet feared more than anything.

Oh, how desperately I needed to see her. Needed her to be real.

But my eyes betrayed me.

She must be so beautiful. She always was.

Then, a touch on my outstretched leg, a flash of metal — was that a scalpel?

Agony ripped through me, shattering the haze. I jerked back, my scream ragged against the tiles. My head slammed back with sickening force.

Before I knew it, a needle pierced my skin.

The room spun as whatever she'd injected battled the comfortable blur of the pills. Nausea churned in my stomach, the numbness receding with terrifying speed.

Groaning, I shifted on the floor.

My vision sharpened, my senses returning with brutal clarity. 

The first thing I noticed was the metallic glint of the discarded syringe beside my leg. 

Then the cut, a ragged gash through the fabric of my dress pants where she'd stabbed the needle in — the unnecessarily deep and brutal cut — but in the chaos, I let it slide. Didn't even register the pain as I watched the blood drain from the cut. 

I reached for the syringe and read the label. 

Adrenaline. 

Smart girl. 

But as I turned it over, a frown creased my brow. Two fucking milliliters? Was she trying to give me a damn heart attack?

I lifted my head, the question burning on my tongue. But the words died unspoken as my gaze locked on hers. 

She stood there, just a few feet away, her breath ragged, her eyes — those pretty eyes.

Terror. 

There was raw, unadulterated terror etched in her eyes. But I was right. She looked as beautiful as ever. Even with those terror-stricken eyes she was breathtaking.

She stumbled back, slumping against the wall opposite of me with a choked gasp, pulling her knees up. I didn't move, couldn't move, my gaze locked with hers.

The terror faded slowly, replaced by a weariness that was far worse. 

For a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of that familiar defiance, the spark I both loved and feared. But even that felt strangely muted now, as if even the energy to fight had been drained out of her.

She simply watched me. In silence, in that devastating silence.

How I hated her silence.

Because her silence was far worse than anything she could have screamed, any insult she could have hurled my way. Her stillness, her silence, was the most terrifying weapon she'd ever wielded against me.

And for the first time in a very long time, I was truly afraid.

Time stretched, then I choked out, "You're angry."

Her answer was blunt, devoid of emotion. "Oh really? What makes you think that?"

I glanced down. Blood still seeped from the gash in my leg. With a trembling hand, I fumbled for a towel and pressed it against the wound. "Your cut is kinda deep. Was that on purpose?"

She didn't say anything.

It probably was on purpose.

My gaze fell on the syringe. "Where'd you get that?"

"What happened to your hand?"

"I asked first."

"Don't try to play games now, Satoru. You're walking on thin fucking ice," she snapped.

"Shattered some glass," I said after a pause ", and punched Sukuna."

"Stole it from the hospital."

"What?"

"You think I'd date an addict and not have adrenaline on hand?"

My lips twitched into a weary smile. Oh my beautiful, brilliant girl, always prepared.

"But you know, two milliliters is a bit much." I moved my leg slightly to check if she had cut any tendons, which would complicate the healing a bit. "Or are you trying to kill me?"

Her gaze pierced me, colder than any scalpel. "Looks like you're doing a fine job of that yourself."

My smile faded.

Silence.

Oh, that cruel silence again.

She didn't say anything. Maybe I should be thankful for that, because if she said anything now, I'd probably crumble completely — if I haven't already.

Ironic, wasn't it? 

How much power this woman had over me. 

Yet it was me who destroyed her.

She dropped her head, ran a shaking hand through her hair, then looked at me again. "How much did you take?"

Huh?

Why would she ask that?

Didn't she see that it's over?

That I'm too far gone?

It was unbearable.

It was unbearable, how she could still look at me and see someone worth saving. It was unbearable, knowing she believed in me even when I didn't. 

Almost pissed me off, how stubbornly she clung to that stupid hope. Because seeing that hope in her eyes — it made me hate myself even more.

I wouldn't change, couldn't. Not for her, not for anyone.

"Doesn't matter. It's over."

"Satoru, please," she choked out, pain raw in her voice, the pain I caused, "cut the crap and tell me. Now."

"It doesn't matter," I repeated, my voice cold. I couldn't bear the flicker of hope, couldn't bear to fail her yet again.

Then, the first tear rolled down her cheek and my heart shattered, the fragments piercing me from within. 

I'd never wanted to be the reason those beautiful eyes filled with pain, the reason her sweet lips trembled. Every fiber of my being wanted to pull her close, erase the hurt I'd caused.

I would have given anything, sacrificed anything, if only I could make it stop.

But I couldn't.

Because I was the problem. I was the poison.

She buried her face in her hands. "I'm tired, Satoru."

"I know."

"I'm so fucking tired," she whispered through tears.

"I know, love."

My eyes burned as I watched her fragile body shudder. Each sob of her driving a stake deeper into my already bleeding heart. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. 

I hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself because — because I was the reason for all of this. 

She'd never wanted this, never wanted to fall in love with me to begin with, but I dragged her into it anyway.

Because I was selfish. 

Knew how it would end.

And now, I could only watch — only watch in this unbearable silence as the woman I loved wept over the man I hated. 

"It's for the best, believe me—"

"No," she cut me off.  "You're sacrificing me for this—this reputation of mine you think matters. It doesn't. I don't want any of it without you. I don't want a future where you're not in it."

She looked up then, eyes red and filled with unshed tears. "Because I love you, Satoru."

What?

The words turned my blood to ice.

After everything — the lies, the ways I'd hurt her, the desperate attempts to push her away — there it was, the confession I'd craved and feared in equal measure.

My heart was being ripped apart and stitched back together again in that very moment — vulnerable and yet so unbearably full. 

She loved me, she said it.

She loves me.

She loves me.

And I love her.

God, how I loved her. More than I thought possible.

I've never once loved in my entire life. 

Not until her. 

Not until she changed me completely. 

What is that, anyway? Love?

How can I possible describe the type of feeling I feel when I'm with her? How can I ever convey the words when they are not even clear to me? 

How cruel it is. How utterly cruel the type of feeling is, that she makes me feel.

Because how could I ever live without it.

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

How to live.

How could I ever go back to what I was before her — was there even something before her?

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

With her.

For her. 

Because she is the air that fills my lungs.

The pulse that keeps me alive.

And nothing can ever change that. So how could I ever go back to what I was before? 

Oh, how she tortures me, tortures me with feelings I rather not feel, tortures me with her love that I deserve so little. 

Nothing. 

I deserve nothing and yet she gives me everything.

Why can't I give it back? What chains me, binds this rotten heart? Why does it fail me so cruelly to love her the way she deserves? 

Because she does. 

She deserves everything. 

She is everything. 

Yet there is only my own failure in loving her. I'm failing her again and again. I hurt her again and again. I hate myself, hate myself for the pain I cause her.

Still—

How can I let her go, when she's the only good thing in my life? 

It is selfish, selfish to say the least, to want to keep her close when all I do is fail her.

Her tears were molten iron searing my insides. But I clench my jaw, refusing to let them break me. If she saw weakness, she might hesitate. Might stay and continue to be broken by me. 

Every fiber of my being wanted nothing more than to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her it would all be okay.

More lies for a heart that deserved nothing but the truth. So I swallowed down the love threatening to spill from my lips. 

I would give her anything, my life, the last shreds of my sanity — except the one thing she asked for, the only thing she ever ask for. 

Because loving her, truly loving her, meant letting her go. Even if it destroys me.

"I spare you," I rasped.

"No." She slowly shook her head. "You're killing me. Can't you see?" There was a cold edge in her voice now. "You're killing me."

"I can't change. Love isn't enough. I can't stop."

"You're the only one who thinks that." Her reply held a flicker of her old, beautiful defiance, a defiance I loved so dearly. "I'd follow you anywhere, Satoru. Even if you can't get clean, then so be it. I don't care. I won't leave you."

The sincerity in her voice was a blow, a beautiful, terrible blow. Complete, unwavering acceptance of who I was, in all my brokenness.

And in that moment, I finally realized. 

It wasn't about saving her. It was about saving myself from the terrifying vulnerability her love demanded. From the weakness that threatened to drown me if I let her in.

Perhaps I'm just a coward after all.

My heart was too damn small, too messed up. Of course I had to push her out, deny her the love she offered so freely — because it terrified me.

Her love terrified me.

"I can't do this to you," I choked out, the words scraping my throat raw. "You deserve—" I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. "You deserve better." 

"Better?" She leaned forward slightly. "You are my better."

Oh, love, that's not true.

You are my better. I'm your worst.

I wanted to say that, should've said that.

But I remained silent, unable to say anything. 

"Say something, Satoru." 

I couldn't, simply couldn't. Because mere words were too hollow, too insignificant against the depth of her pain.

"Say something, damn it!" 

"It will get easier someday," I chocked out. Each word felt like a stone I was forcing down my own throat. Each word empty — we both knew it.

"Is that what you hope for?"

"I have to."

She closed her mouth. Her silence more devastating than any scream. She didn't explode, as I half-expected. Instead, she straightened, her movements slow, weary.

I watched her, unable to move, unable to look away, as a horrifying realization bloomed across her face. It wasn't anger, wasn't sadness — it was a terrible understanding.

She knew. She always knew.

Perhaps that's what I hated about her the most.

"That's it?" she asked.

"That's it."

She watched me.  Not in anger, but with chilling detachment. Her eyes, usually so filled with warmth, were now as distant as those of a stranger. 

Still, I burned the image into my soul, knowing it might be the last time.

Then, without another word, she turned. And walked away.

When she finally disappeared from sight, a wave of crushing despair washed over me. It wasn't just the loneliness. It was the terrifying certainty that there was no going back from this. 

I had destroyed the best thing in my life — a sacrifice she didn't even ask for.

But then again, my sacrifice is really only an illusion after all, masking a desperate, terrified selfishness.

Because I'm selfish.

I do love her.  Gods, how I love her. 

But my fear was stronger.

And I was too damn weak to fight it.

─── ·✧· ───

Four weeks.

Was it four weeks?

I can't remember.

Time — it didn't tick or flow anymore. 

It was a shapeless thing. Punctuated only by the empty thump of my heart in this wrecked chest.

Those first days — or weeks, who knows? — they melted together in a haze. After she left, I was — raw. One giant exposed nerve.  

Each damn breath without the pills felt like scraping sandpaper across it, a reminder  of what I'd lost — no, what I'd destroyed.

So I was barely sober.

My body didn't even protest. At first, it was almost — nice? The rush, the way it wiped out not just the pain but any thought at all.

But the crash was always brutal. Mornings, if you could even call it that, I'd wake up shaking, sick to my stomach, and terrified of — what was I even terrified of? Somehow of everything and nothing at all. But I knew the fix for that. 

It was a sick, relentless cycle.

The phone rang, vibrated with messages. Suguru mostly. His messages growing more urgent with each unanswered text. Liver issues. Treatment. Something about irreversible damage.   

It was all white noise compared to the screaming in my head.

Her name, though, cut through the haze.

There were nights — or was it days? — when a desperate, clawing need to hear her voice, to see her face, would rise up in me. I'd reach for the phone, fingers hovering above her name. Then the fear would crush that impulse. 

I knew that reaching out to her would be the final act of cruelty.

So I stumbled on, each day collapsing into the next. 

Until the next semester started and I remembered I had an actual job.

─── ·✧· ───

I stood in the corridor outside the auditorium.

My fingers fumbled with the familiar pill bottle. Just enough to numb the edge, get me through the lecture. With a bitter swallow, I tilted the pill into my palm, chasing it down dry.

Four weeks. Four weeks of barely holding it together, four weeks since I almost OD'd, four weeks since she left, and the weight of it all threatened to crush me at any moment. 

Yet, muscle memory took over.

I limped slightly as I walked into the auditorium. My leg still hurt after she basically cut my muscle in half. 

She definitely did that on purpose. She was too smart not to not know what she was doing.

The usual chatter died down when I walked in.  Old routine. Time for the performance. Pretend I'm the professor, pretend like this whole thing isn't ripping me apart, piece by piece. It should have been comforting. 

Once, perhaps, it was.

Wordlessly, I grabbed a marker, scrawled my name on the board. Like they didn't already know who I was, right? 

Everyone on campus knows, especially after this summer's mess.

With a sigh, I turned towards the class.

And there she was. 

My breath hitched, the marker clattering to the floor. My lips parted, but no words came.

Of course.

Of fucking course. 

Second-year lecture. 

How the hell could I forget that?

She was here, after everything, right in front of me. The pain of the past weeks, that suffocating emptiness — it all melted away, replaced by a pounding headache in that one instant.

My eyes clung to her, unable to look away, drinking in the sight of her. That stubborn tilt of her head, the pain in those beautiful eyes — God, how I'd missed her. 

Yet with every beat of my yearning heart came a fresh wave of guilt. I longed to reach out, to apologize, to tell her how much I'd missed her. 

But I knew it was wrong. 

Then, it hit me. Every eye in the room was on her, following my gaze like a spotlight burning into her. Damn it.

Still, she didn't flinch.

Endured it like she has always endured everything.

Clearing my throat, I managed to speak as I adverted my gaze. "So, uh, let's start the lecture."

My voice echoed in the now tense auditorium, words tumbling out in a forced attempt at normalcy. The lecture blurred. My own words were just noise in my head. I pushed through the lecture. Don't even remember what I lectured about.

It was routine, should have been easy, but — not with her there. Never with her. 

Every damn minute, my eyes flicked towards her, drawn like a magnet. I couldn't help it. Because all I could see was her. But she avoided my gaze.

Should've expected that.

Shouldn't make me angry, right?

Still did.

Finally, thank god, the bell rang. 

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

I remained behind my desk and gathered my notes. Students surged towards the exit, a faceless blur of motion. My traitorous gaze remained locked on her as the auditorium slowly emptied.

She and her friends passed by me. Before I could even think, the words tumbled out, "Wait, not—not you, first-year."

Silence. 

Her friend's chatter halted abruptly. I hadn't meant to say it, hadn't thought before the desperate need to speak to her had short-circuited my brain.

Now, it was done.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, met mine. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. 

Her friends exchanged glances. I could feel Zenin glaring daggers at me, didn't even need to look. She'd always been fiercely protective.

"I'll catch up later," she said then to her friends, a strained smile plastered on her face. 

They left, leaving us alone in the vast, suddenly suffocating auditorium.

Silence again.

My heart hammered against my ribs, so loud I feared she could hear it.

Finally, she spoke. "You know I'm not a first-year anymore."

I rounded the desk, the wood rough against my fingertips. "Yeah, right. Sorry." Leaning against it, I crossed my arms.

"Didn't you get suspended?"

"They postponed it."

She watched me for a moment, those beautiful eyes drilling into me. Her eyes held a coldness I've never seen before. For a sickening moment, I thought I might throw up.

"How are you?"

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't ask me that. Don't you dare pretend to care after—" 

She stopped herself, the silence louder than any accusation. After everything you did. After you pushed me away. After you nearly killed yourself.

She didn't need to voice it.

My hands clenched into fists against the edge of my desk, nails digging into my palms in a futile attempt to ground myself. Needed to maintain this thin illusion of control.

I do care. Dammit, I care more than you'll ever know. 

I wanted to scream it, to tear open my chest and show her the bleeding wound she'd left behind. But the words stuck in my throat. 

Pointless now, anyway.

Knuckles turned white, nails digging deeper.

She stepped closer. Her hand darted into her bag, then shot out, palm open. Keys glinted in the harsh light — the keys to my apartment. 

I watched them for a second. Should've expected that. Shouldn't hurt me. Still did.

"You don't have to return them. I want you to keep them."

"Why? I won't need them anymore, will I? Or are you planning on overdosing again?"

Each word was acid on an open wound.

I deserved this, the anger, the contempt, it was all on me. But why the hell did it make me so fucking angry?

"Have you ever thought about how I felt when I found you?" she snapped, her voice rising. "How terrified I was when you wouldn't respond? When you couldn't even recognize me? When I thought you'd die on me?" She took a shaky breath. "Fuck Satoru, I held your face in my hands while you were barely breathing!"

I tried to speak, but she cut me off.  "Don't. You. Dare."

"Four weeks," she went on, her voice sharp, laced with a fury that cut to the bone. "Four weeks of silence. Ever think I might be drowning, haunted by what I saw? Or were you too busy numbing yourself with pills? Hell, I didn't even know if you'd overdosed for good this time!"

Her words hit me cold, but they weren't the storm tearing me apart. It was the image of her, terrified, holding my barely-alive body, that ripped my insides out. 

Those eyes — her eyes filled with a terror that was all because of me. The guilt choked me. Seeing my near-death through her haunted eyes is twisted a knife in my gut.

It was the look of someone who'd had a piece of her soul ripped out. 

It was the look of someone who loved me.

"But then again, you never cared about me, did you?" she added, the raw hurt bleeding beneath the anger.

My stomach twisted. "Don't you dare say that," I rasped, the words ripping from my throat. "I care so much it damn near killed me. You were the only thing keeping me alive, the only reason I fought at all! Don't you dare say I don't—" I choked, the pain unbearable.

The room seemed to tilt, my anger threatening to consume me. 

I took a step towards her, closing the distance in one move. We were so close, I could smell her damn shampoo. "Every damn thing I did, every stupid decision—it was all because I care about you too much."

Her eyes widened. But only for a second. Then, that cold defiance was back, and it cut deep. 

"You're really pathetic, you know that?" she spat. "You talk about caring, but in the end you threw everything away. Because you are too terrified to let yourself love me. Because apparently your own damn peace is worth more than me."

Her words were knives, finding their mark with cruel efficiency. 

"Shut up," I whispered. "You know nothing."

"Oh really?" She glared at me, "then let me paint the picture for you—the minute things got difficult, the second you had to face actual consequences for your actions, you used it as an excuse to back away. Shut yourself down."

She moved closer still. "Convenient, wasn't it? Pushing me away, destroying us—it absolved you from having to confront anything real."

Her accusations hit uncomfortably close to home.

And I didn't want to hear it from her lips.

Not from hers.

"Shut up," I growled.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up," she snapped back, her voice rising. "You don't get to play the victim here. You did this. You ruined everything."

Fury ignited, not at her, but at myself. 

Blindly, I reached out, my fingers gripping her jaw so tight it bordered on violence. I forced her to look at me, my eyes burning into hers. "Shut up, or I swear to god, I'll make you."

Her chin lifted, eyes narrowing. "I dare you."

The words set me on fire. Every rational thought, every vestige of self-preservation was devoured by a sudden, desperate need. My gaze fell to her lips, slightly parted, a vulnerable target I craved to claim.

Without even thinking, my hand went to her waist, fingers digging in as I pulled her impossibly close. My other hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back. Our eyes locked, some kind of messed-up challenge.

I could feel her rapid breaths on my skin, smell that damn perfume of hers that I'd always loved, but now was driving me to the edge of control. Her heart pounding against mine.

Everything in me screamed to close the distance, claim those lips that had haunted me, haunted me for weeks. 

I wanted to claim her, to silence her, to lose myself in her, but my last shred of sanity held me back.

Because pushing her further into my nightmare was the ultimate act of cruelty. 

"Uncomfortable, isn't it? Getting confronted with the ugly truth?" she whispered against my lips.

My grip on her tightened. She really didn't know when to stop, or maybe she simply wanted to watch me burn. Perhaps both.

"Don't push me."

"Why? Scared of what you'll find if you let yourself be honest for once?" Her head tilted. Her gaze was fire, and I was already ash. "You run, Satoru. From everything, but most of all, from yourself."

"And that," she leaned closer, almost brushing my lips, "is what makes you the most pathetic person I know."

Oh, she could be so viciously cruel when she wanted to. So disgustingly cruel. It was one of the things I'd fallen hopelessly in love with. Even now, as it tore me apart, I still loved it. 

But I also wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of her right then and there.

"You're right. You're always right. Maybe that's what's terrifies me about you so much."

"You're not terrified of me," she whispered. "You're terrified of yourself."

The air between us crackled. Every rational thought in my brain begged me to stop. Still, I couldn't resist. I inched closer, helpless against the force that binds and burns us both.

My hands tightened their hold as I took a sharp inhale. Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling. 

Our lips hovered, almost touching, two aching souls suspended in that impossible space. So much unspoken words, so much hurt, and the destructive pull between us that had always tethered us together.

Then, the auditorium door creaked open. 

Her head snapped towards the sound. But I couldn't look away, wouldn't miss a second of her. Because this, right here, was all I had left.

Had to be Suguru anyway — anyone else would be screaming their heads off by now.

After a pause, she turned back at me. "You know, I'm still waiting."

"For what, love?"

"For it to get easier."

I looked at her, the woman I loved, and guilt clawed at my insides. That hurt, that anger on her face — I deserved it all. Because it was the consequence of the pain I'd caused.

"You said it would get easier," she added.

It was a lie. Nothing about this was easy. Nothing ever would be again. Suddenly, the room felt too small, the air thick and unbreathable.

"I don't know if it ever will."

Perhaps I was only meant to love her in silence.

In distance.

Because at least then I couldn't hurt her anymore.

Suguru cleared his throat. He stepped into the room, breaking the moment.

Reluctantly, I let go of her. She stepped back, eyes holding mine for a second, something flickering there that I didn't dare try to read. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.

I watched her go.

Suguru approached me, stopping close by. He didn't say anything.

I leaned against the desk, running a hand through my hair. The adrenaline from that almost-kiss crashed, leaving behind a hollow ache.

The sound of the door slamming behind her echoed in the empty auditorium, way too loud.

Suguru's hand landed on my shoulder. 

"You really have a thing for bad timing," I muttered.

"Bad timing," he echoed, "or good timing to stop you from doing something stupid?"

I didn't answer. The memory of her, so close, choked every thought out of my mind.

"You know it was the right thing to do. With everything going on, letting her go was the right decision."

"I know," I said, pushing off the desk and rounding it to gather my things. I couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm trying to remember that."

Suguru then started placing pill bottles on the desk with a serious expression. The first clink of plastic on wood cut through the silence. 

"Prednisone for the liver inflammation." Another bottle. "Lactulose for the hepatic encephalopathy." Then another. "Vitamin B and K for the nutritional deficiencies."

"But you know the first step would be to—" he paused for a second then placed another two bottles in from of me. "Methadone, to manage the withdrawal and craving. And Naltrexone, to block the euphoric effects of your opioids."

Hesitantly, another bottle appeared. "Clonidine, in case you feel like you're dying."

"Suguru—" I began, but he cut me off.

"Satoru, you have to get clean. The pills won't do a damn thing if you keep wrecking your liver."

"Yeah, it's a little late for that, don't you think? It's the only thing keeping me sane right now."

He sighed.  "You're the absolute worst patient ever."

"Aw, come on, I thought you liked a bit of challenge. You're the best doctor, you'll figure something out."  I rummaged through my bag, pulling out a folder.

"Even the best doctor on earth can't help if you don't—"

I shoved the folder across the desk, cutting him off. "What's this?"

"It's a patient. An anyeurism. I'm still not allowed to do surgery, not until this thing with the ethics committee is over."

Suguru opened the folder, flipping through the pages.  "You want me to do it?  Is there something special about this patient?"

"I want you to take her with you," I said quietly. "She likes aneurysm clippings."

Suguru looked up, that familiar crease between his brows.  "She'll figure it out. Sooner or later. Latest when you're in the hospital waiting for a liver transplant, not lecturing anymore."

Silence stretched. My eyes fell on the pill bottles lined up on the desk. 

I sighed, then gathered them and crammed them into my bag.  "Let's go. I need fresh fair," I said as I brushed past him, putting the withdrawal meds back into his hands.

Without another word, I left the auditorium.

─── ·✧· ───

My eyes snapped open.

I sat upright, a strangled gasp tearing from my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat threatening to burst right out of my chest. 

For a disorienting second, the world was a blur. Sweat drenched my skin. My lungs screamed for air.

Damn nightmares. 

Another night of that shit. 

I clutched at my chest, trying to quell the frantic pounding. Cold sweat made my shirt cling to my skin. The room spun. My pulse thundered in my ears.

I fumbled for the lamp, the sudden brightness stinging my eyes. But it didn't chase away the image seared into my brain. Her face, cruel, beautiful, cruelly beautiful, twisted in absolute terror. My stomach twisted.

My fault. 

Always my fault.

I couldn't breathe right.

Sleep was a lost cause now. First decent rest in a week, and my brain decided to torment me again. Exhaustion was its own kind of hell, but it was nothing compared to this. That, more than anything, was the real torture.

I slumped forward, scrubbing a hand over my face.

I'd hurt her. 

I'd hurt her, the one person who meant something.

Every day, it felt more like I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Letting her go, pushing her away, I—

I hated myself. 

Hated the way I ruined everything.

Hated the way I ruined every chance at something good. 

It was like a damn curse.

Nothing good ever lasted for me. I should've known that by now.

Damn it, I knew it was wrong. But how the hell could it be wrong when it'd felt so damn right? When she was the only thing, the only person, that cut through the crap, made this whole mess seem like it might have some sort of meaning?

How could that possibly be wrong?

Guilt ate at my insides. Had I been a damn coward? Too scared to fight for something that made me feel, really feel?

Perhaps.

Easier to push her away, sabotage the whole damn thing, than risk actually letting her in. Letting anyone in. Losing control. But it didn't matter now, did it? 

It was over. 

I needed out. Out of my head, out of this apartment, out of my own damn skin. 

The silence was unbearable.

I pushed off the bed, muscles screaming in protest. I slipped into running clothes, the routine automatic. As I laced up my shoes, a sharp sting shot through my leg from the still-healing cut on my leg.

That bitch. 

The more I thought about it, the more sure I was she'd done it on purpose.

Good thing I was addicted to painkillers, huh?

I drowned a pill — no two, for good measure — before stepping outside into the pre-dawn chill. 

Cold autumn air bit at my skin. Each step echoed on the empty street. The pills kicked in, dulling the sharp pain in my leg. Good. Long as the cut didn't split open, I didn't damn care.

I pushed myself, needing the burn in my muscles, the ache in my lungs, to drown out the constant echo of her voice, her name, in my head.

The world blurred. Streetlights, shadows, it all melded together. The only reality was the ache in my body, the cold air forcing its way into my lungs. My mind, for once, was mercifully blank. 

No nightmares, no guilt, no memories of her haunted eyes — just the simple focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

I didn't set a goal, didn't choose a destination. 

Just moving, pushing, escaping.

Sweat dripped, but I barely registered. With each mile, the crushing weight eased. Not gone, hell, not even close to forgotten, but  — manageable. 

I ran until the city was a smear of lights, until my legs burned and my lungs screamed. 

Finally, gasping for breath, legs threatening to give out, I stumbled to a halt. The neon lights of a Seven Eleven cut through the pre-dawn darkness. My throat was sandpaper. I pushed through the door.

Inside, the harsh lights stung my eyes. I grabbed a water, my body on autopilot as I shuffled toward the register. The bored-looking teenager behind the counter gave me a sidelong look as I fumbled for my wallet.

"Rough night?"

"Something like that." I glanced down at my leg, the still-healing cut a visible red line. Wincing, I shifted my weight, favoring the uninjured side. 

I pulled out my card to pay, but then a flash of color caught my eye. Beside the cashier's register, stacked in a gaudy pyramid, was a display of energy drinks. I starred at them for a second, the name oddly familiar.

I knew why the name was so familiar.

I reached for a can and placed it on the counter. "And this."

Outside, I downed the water in a matter of seconds. Then, I cracked open the energy drink. The first sip hit my tongue. Surprisingly, it didn't taste half-bad without a shot of stale coffee to ruin it. 

But the taste wasn't the problem, wasn't it? 

Memories flooded back. Her, hunched over a massive anatomy textbook in the dim library, those beautiful eyes ringed with exhaustion. Beside her, half-empty, a mug of coffee — spiked with the sickeningly sweet energy drink I currently held.

Just the thought of that awful mixture made my stomach turn.

Still, a smile tugged at my lips.

Dammit, I didn't want to think about her. But to be fair, thinking, not thinking — it was all the same. The dull, constant ache of her absence throbbed beneath it all.

I chugged the rest of the energy drink, crushing the can in my hand.

Ah, fuck it.

Before my sanity could interfere, my legs were in motion.

I knew this was wrong. Knew every step took me closer to more pain. Knew all along this was stupid, reckless — inevitable. 

I couldn't stop.

The pull towards her was too damn strong. I needed to see her, to confirm her existence, to know she was real, to fix — what? What the hell could I fix? What the hell did I even think I was doing?

Finally, gasping for breath, I stumbled to a halt outside her apartment building.

A glance at my watch confirmed the hour — well past 3 am. Insane. I hadn't expected her to be awake. Just needed the pathetic reassurance of her presence. But as I looked up, my breath hitched. 

In a second-floor window, a flicker of warm light spilled into the darkness. And there, etched against that warmth — her silhouette. Unmistakable.

A heavy exhale escaped my lips. 

She was there.

Here.

On this same cursed world with me.

My heart pounded against my ribs. I knew, I had no right to be here. But god, I needed this, needed to see her.

She sat on the windowsill, book in hand. My future wife. Even in the dead of night, she was studying. How I loved her.

My gaze traced the familiar curve of her shoulders, the way the soft lamplight painted her skin with warmth, highlighting the strands of hair escaping her messy bun. 

In that stolen moment, I could almost convince myself that things were different, that my actions hadn't irrevocably shattered something precious.

But then, she moved. Rising from her seat, she stretched, drawing the fabric of her shirt upwards. Before my mind could catch up, she was at the window, pushing it open. I froze.

She was staring down — right at me. 

Shit.

I held my breath. For what felt like an eternity, we simply stared at each other. A muscle in her jaw twitched. Then her gaze dropped, breaking eye contact.

"You're bleeding."

I glanced down. The edge of my shorts was soaked through, a fresh stain of crimson spreading. Damn it. The cut had reopened.

"Yeah," I said, looking back up at her, "I'm a mess."

I braced myself for whatever was coming. The anger, the disgust, the righteous fury — it would all be justified. I deserved it. But she simply watched me. Her gaze was steady, devoid of emotion. 

"You know where the entrance is," she said finally, then leaned back into the soft glow of her room and closed the window shut.

Before my brain could catch up with how wrong this was, I walked toward the apartment building.

─── ·✧· ───

I sat on the edge of her bed, she on a chair in front of me, her hands already on my leg as she pushed the fabric of my shorts up. "How could you not notice that?"

I opened my mouth, but she cut me off, "Wait, forget it." 

Yeah. Now she remembered.

With practiced efficiency, she began cleaning the wound. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, considering how pissed she must be. 

The silence was heavy, broken only by the rustle of bandages and my occasional  sharp intake of breath when the antiseptic hit a raw spot.

My eyes wandered. Her space, even small and half-finished, felt warm, lived in. Smelled like her. Books spilling everywhere, papers scattered on a desk, a yoga mat forgotten in the corner — the organized chaos was so perfectly her.

Then my gaze landed on the half-unpacked boxes stacked against the wall. She really still didn't fully move in. Occupied with my mess, huh? 

Guilt flooded me. I didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her gentle hands on me, not after everything. 

Yet, a selfish part of me wanted nothing more than to stay exactly like this, wanted nothing more than to keep her hands on me.

With a sigh, I sank back against her pillows. Exhaustion seeped into my bones. Pain returned as the effects of the pills wore off.

Her fingers brushed the reopened cut. I winced, throwing an arm over my eyes. The relentless pounding in my head threatened to split me open, spilling all the ugly thoughts onto her pristine sheets.

"You've had nightmares again, haven't you?"

Huh? 

I lifted my head a fraction, struggling to meet her eyes. She glanced up briefly, her eyes guarded, then focused back on my leg.

"Yeah, something like that." My head thumped back onto the pillow. "Hard to sleep when your head won't shut up."

"What dose?"

"You really don't want to know."

"I asked because I do," she countered. The sharp tug as she tightened the bandage around my leg was enough to make me speak.

"Ten milligrams," I admitted, wincing. "The usual."

She scoffed, then another, even sharper, tug had me gritting my teeth. "Ngh—fuck," I moaned. 

I really needed a pill now.

She stood, gathering the first-aid supplies. "Heals slowly, doesn't it?"

I knew it.

I popped myself up on one elbow, raising an eyebrow at her. 

"Don't give me that look. You know damn well you deserved it."

I let out a dry laugh. "You really are a bitch sometimes." I dropped back onto the bed, my hand reaching for my throbbing head. 

I needed two pills now.

"You've got some damn nerve. You show up here in the middle of the night, injured, high—"

"I'm not high—"

"Save it," she spat. "You know what your fucking problem is? You can't stand being alone. Alone with your thoughts, with yourself. So you run. You run to pills, to whatever distraction you can find, anything to fill the void."

Yeah, how the hell am I supposed to want to be alone after feeling what it's like to be with you, stupid.

"You're too damn scared to face your fears," she continued, her voice laced with a bitter edge, "and when someone threatens your artificial peace, someone who might actually force you to look in the damn mirror, you panic. You sabotage it, push them away before it all gets too real, too close."

She stepped closer. "Because it's easier, isn't it? Safer to stick with the misery you know than risk having to face that void."

Every word stung, but I couldn't deny it, couldn't lie anymore.

"You're right. And I'm sorry—"

"Don't." She rose a hand at me. "Don't pretend you care, Satoru. You've made it clear how little I matter."

How little you matter? 

Oh, love, you couldn't be more wrong.

A harsh laugh escaped me. 

"You find this funny?"

"No, love," I said, pushing myself up. My leg throbbed in protest, but I ignored it. Everything narrowed down to her. I moved closer, a strange recklessness fueling me. "Quite the opposite."

Something flickered in her eyes — surprise? wariness? — but the anger remained.

"Keep going," I insisted, moving closer. "Let it out. Yell at me, tell me how pathetic I am. Make me feel something, anything other than this damn emptiness."

She hesitated. Her eyes searched mine, and for a breathless moment, I hoped that her fury, her anger, would burn away the numbness, making me feel something, anything.

Because even her anger was better than her indifference.

I couldn't stand being indifferent to her.

Might as well make her hate me.

"You want me to yell at you?" Her voice rose, the first hint of the storm I craved. "Fine! You wanna be a pathetic mess? Go ahead! Piss away your career, your life, whatever the hell you care about, I don't give a damn anymore!"

Each word hit me, but there was a desperate relief in it. Finally, she wasn't looking at me with that chilling indifference, that cold pity that twisted a knife in my gut. 

Her rage, it was fire — scorching and brutal, but alive. And I loved it.

Because it was prove she still cared, even if it was just to hate me with every fiber of her being. It was better than the void, that terrible chasm that had opened up between us after I'd pushed her away.

I closed the distance, enjoying the anger in her eyes. She flinched, but didn't back down.

"More." I grabbed her waist, lifting her with ease, and hauled her towards the bed.

"You're weak!" she spat, pushing against my chest, her voice rising with each word.

Yeah, so damn weak for you, love.

"You're selfish! So consumed by your own self-pity you can't see how you hurt everyone around you!"

Her words should have hurt. They probably would have, under different circumstances. But right now, I couldn't care less.

"Keep going," I rasped, my pulse pounding in my ears. I forced her onto the bed and hovered over her, my body trapping her between the mattress and my own. "C'mon, love, let it all out."

"You don't deserve me," she continued. "You don't deserve anyone who gives a damn, because you only know how to destroy things."

Each word was a knife. Yet, with each insult, the suffocating hollowness inside me eased a fraction. I wanted her anger, the full force of it, wanted the burn only she could inflict on me.

"More."

Her breath hitched, eyes narrowing. "You keep breaking my heart over and over, then come crawling back when it suits you, like it doesn't matter!"

"You're right." I leaned in, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. The thin fabric of her shirt did little to hide her shivers. "C'mon, love, give it to me. I know you can do better."

In one swift move, I ripped my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor. I leaned down again, my breath ghosting over her lips. "Hate me." My hands went for the flimsy waistband of her shorts. "Tell me how much you despise me."

Her breaths came fast, quick gasps against my skin.  I could see it all over her face — the rage, the fear, and maybe — yeah, maybe that darker edge, the same desperation burning in me.

"I fucking hate you, Satoru. Hate that you made me care, made me fall for you, then crushed it."

"Don't stop," I said, my voice a hoarse rasp. "Say it again." Before she could react, her shorts were down, exposing her to the night air. My own pants followed hasty, desperate. "Say you hate me."

"I fucking hate that you treat me like I'm just another damn plaything to fill whatever void your messed-up mom or whatever left you with!"

Okay, now it gets personal.

"I fucking hate that you act like you can control me," she hissed, but her body betrayed her, shivered running down her skin as my hands gazed her collarbone. "Hate that you make my choices for me, decide what's good for me, like you got to have control over something when you obviously can't control yourself!"

Damn, Freud himself is on to something tonight, huh? She really doesn't know when to stop.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, you know that?" I leaned closer, my mouth close to her ear. "You hate who I am, but you crave this, don't you? Giving up control, being at my mercy. Admit it."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. She lifted a hand, as if to slap me, but I was faster. I caught her wrists and pinned them above her head, pressing them hard into the mattress.

"You know it's true," I pressed, relishing the way she struggled against my hold. "It's hard always being the composed one, isn't it? The responsible one. It's draining. Maybe that's why you're drawn to me. You love the thrill as much as I do, don't you?"

She stared at me, silent, her lips a tight line. 

"Prove me wrong, sweetheart. Call me a liar, and I'll show you just how wrong you are," I leaned in closer, my voice a harsh whisper against her lips. "We're the same, you and me. We feed off each other. Even if you hate to admit it, I fill that emptiness inside you same as you do for me."

"You arrogant piece of shit!" she spat, twisting and bucking against my grip. "You think you know everything, control everything!"

"Don't I?" My grip tightened, feeling her pulse throb against my fingers. "Seems I've got you pinned pretty damn well, wouldn't you say?"

"You know it's true. You love this. Makes you feel something your books, your fancy grades never could."

"Screw you, Satoru," she hissed, venom in her voice. "We're nothing alike."

"You really are a fool, for wanting to fix something so broken it'll cut you to shreds the moment you get close and then you cry afterwards—"

Her spit hit my face. I closed my eyes for a second, then a smile twisted across my lips. 

My future wife just spit in my face — what a good anecdote on our wedding day.

"That's my girl," I rasped, shoving her legs wider. "Tell me how much you hate me. Scream it."

"I fucking hate you Satoru, I hate you—"

Her words died on her tongue as I thrust forward, filling her completely. I closed my eyes, letting my head hang heavy for a second. 

My god, the things this woman's body could do to me. I could feel her body trembling beneath me, her heart racing as she arched her back.

How treacherous a body can be, huh?

"Hate you, Satoru," she managed to say before she closed her eyes, biting down her lip as I thrust deeper still. Her thighs spread further apart, inviting me closer, urging me onward. 

She's so damn beautiful.

I grinned, my hands still holding her wrists in place over her head. "I know you do, love. But you know what?" My lips were only a breath away from hers. "I hate you, too. I hate how you make me feel, how you expose every broken piece of me, how I crave you like I crave another fix."

Hell, I might just be addicted to this woman.

I pulled out fully, before thrusting back into her. Her head fell back, pressing into the mattress as a strangled moan escaping her lips.

She felt incredible.

Pulling back slowly, I watched her body react to the absence, her eyes flickering open to meet mine. Those pupils dilated with need, mirroring my own hunger for her. 

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not our fight. Not our problems. Not our insults that had left our lips moments before. Just us — two halves coming together in a perfect whole. 

I pushed back into her, deeper, harder.

With each thrust, I felt myself sinking deeper into her, losing myself in her. Fuck, if there was anything better than this — well, I hadn't found it yet.

This woman owned me — plain and simple.

It was madness, this pull towards her. 

Insane, perhaps.

But it was also undeniably real. So real that even though dawn threatened to break soon, stealing away whatever remnants of darkness remained, I couldn't help but chase after that high only she could provide.

Even knowing full well that when morning arrived, reality would crash down upon us, forcing us back onto opposite sides of the divide.

"Look what you've done to me, love. You're making a fool of me." I whispered against her lips without touching them.

Weren't together anymore after all.

Kissing would be too much.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath me. Her nails dug into my skin where my hands gripped her wrists. With each deep thrust, I watched her face contort with pleasure and pain, her features illuminated by fleeting streaks of moonlight seeping through the curtains.

I loved that look on her face.

I wondered if I could make that look even more pathetic.

I pulled out, dragging the tip of my length across her clit before pushing back in. She squirmed underneath me, arching her back. But I denied her, keeping my unhurried pace. I wanted to draw out this sweet torture for as long as possible.

Hours passed — or perhaps mere minutes. I couldn't tell anymore. All that mattered was this woman writhing beneath me.

Groaning in frustration, she attempted to break free from my grip. "Dammit, Satoru. If you won't finish what you started, then get off me!"

I smirked. "Why so eager, love. Can't handle the wait?" I leaned in to kiss down the side of her neck. She shivered beneath me, her breath hitching as my teeth grazed her skin. 

With my free hand I reached down, running my fingers down her quivering stomach, relishing in the shivers that coursed through her body. 

She glared up at me, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Stop calling me 'love'. I don't belong to you, not anymore—" 

She gasped into my mouth when I found her clit. Slowly, deliberately, I began to circle it with my thumb, feeling her surrender to me. I plunged deeper, thrusting into her mercilessly.

Let her hate me all she wants. She can't deny the chemistry between us — a spark that refuses to fade, no matter how hard either of us tries.

She must have hated this — hated how she surrendered to me, even with all that anger. Made me wondered if I could rail her up even more.

"You think you're so much better than me?" I rasped. "So strong, so selfless, always putting others first? It's a lie, and you know it. You're just bored."

"You fucker!" Before I knew what was happening, she broke free of my grasp and had flipped us over so that she was now straddling my hips. 

Without warning, she reached forward, gripping my throat with surprising strength as she leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain around our faces. I couldn't help but smile.

"Don't project your bullshit on me," she seethed, her face inches from mine. 

Her words sent a chill down my spine, stirring up a fresh wave of desire within me. Damn, this woman was infuriating — and captivating in the worst way possible.

We glared at each other like enemies preparing for battle. 

"Aren't you a little tired? Pulling up that act all the time?" I choked out, feeling her fingers dig in further. "Deep down, you're just as bored as me, you're just too righteous to admit it."

"Shut up," she hissed, pressing harder, choking the words out of me.

This was madness. Destructive madness. But for this one desperate moment, I didn't care. It was exhilarating, addictive. Because love, our twisted, broken love, wasn't supposed to be pretty.

It was messy, chaotic, and borderline abusive. But sometimes all you need is a firm grip around the throat to remind you that you're alive.

"Harder, love," I gasped, a laugh bubbling up in my constricted throat. "Come on, make me feel your rage."

Slowly, deliberately, she began grinding her hips against mine, setting a maddening pace that left me reeling. Fuck, I think I love it even more when she hates me.

"Ahh, shit," I gasped, clutching at her thighs as she rode me mercilessly. "That's it."

Eyes squeezed shut, my head rolled back. Chills prickled my skin, possibly due to the cool breeze drifting in from the window. Or perhaps it was merely her.

She rode me with increased speed, and I could barely contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through my body. Every fiber of my being screamed for release. 

My knuckles on her thighs turned white from the force. "Oh, shit, you're going to kill me," I moaned between choked sounds that escaped my lips. 

My lips twisted into a smile again. "Admit it. You love the chaos as much as I do. The thrill, the way it makes you feel alive."

"You're wrong," she said, increasing her pace making my cock twitch inside her. "We're nothing alike."

"Keep telling yourself that," I replied, struggling to catch my breath, as she made me lose my mind. "But I know the truth—we're two sides of the same coin."

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"Why else would you be here, like this, with me?" I countered. "Face it, we're addicted to each other—the highs, the lows, the constant push and pull. It's exhilarating, isn't it?"

"You're the only addict here."

"Liar," I rasped.

Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She was close. Each contraction of her pushing me further towards a peak that I knew would soon shatter me.

But I wasn't ready yet. Not quite.

I shifted our positions, sitting upright before spinning us around so she was now beneath me on the mattress. I positioned myself behind her, forcing her down onto the mattress.

I slowly slid my hand along her spine as I pushed her further down, feeling her tremble beneath my touch, the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. 

It was intoxicating to watch her submit to me.

"Fuck, you'll be the death of me."

Leaning down, I pressed my lips against the small of her back, feeling her shiver once more. My hand continued its descent, stopping just short of where she needed me.

"Satoru," my name fell from her lips.

Oh, how I loved it when she breathed my name like that. I couldn't resist her — could never resist her. I was at her mercy. Even now.

She arched her back, silently pleading for me to continue. I slid my hand between her legs. "God, you're so fucking wet," I murmured, slipped a finger inside her, then another. She was so tight, so warm. 

I couldn't wait to be inside her again.

She gasped, pushing back against me. "Don't stop."

Curving my fingers, I searched for that spot that I knew would drive her mad. When I found it, she cried out, her hips bucking against my hand. Her hands scrabbled at the sheets, grasping for purchase as I started to move inside her.

"Yes, fuck," she moaned, spreading her legs wider. "Right there."

Oh, love. I know you like that.

I smiled, relishing the fact that I knew her body better than herself. I knew every inch of her, every freckle, every scar, every sensitive spot that made her squirm. 

"More," she begged.

I happily obliged, adding a third finger and thrusting deeper. She was soaking wet, her juices coating my fingers as I fucked her with my hand. Her moans grew louder, more urgent. She was close, so close.

I increased the pace of my fingers, pumping them in and out of her as I used my thumb to apply pressure to her clit. 

However, as her moans reached a fever pitch, I withdrew my fingers, denying her release.

She gasped, glanced over her shoulder at me, her mouth open, but said nothing — probably out of breath. 

I brought my fingers to my mouth, savoring the taste of her. It was so uniquely her. I couldn't get enough.

Leaning in, I pressed my body against hers from behind, my hard length probed at her entrance. 

I leaned down over her, my hand snaking into her hair. I grabbed it tightly, forcing her head up to meet mine. "I love you, first-year," I murmured against her ear.

She trembled, but her defiance remained strong. "I hate you."

I sighed — always so fierce, makes me wonder what it takes to fuck that stubborn attitude out of her. 

"It's alright, I love you enough for both of us."

With that, I pushed her head down into the mattress. Her cry muffled by the sheets beneath her as I thrust into her once more, bottoming out inside her with a groan.

I began to move in and out of her. Faster now, harder until the headboard slammed against the wall. Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She clawed at the sheets beneath her, her moans muffled by the fabric.

As her cries grew louder, I quickly pushed her face further into the mattress. "Quiet, first year," I murmured as I angled myself to rub against her G-spot, making it harder for her to keep quiet. "Wouldn't want to disturb anyone in the middle of the night, would we?"

Neither of us spoke a word — not that she could but — perhaps because there was nothing left to say. Instead, we communicated solely through our actions, saying everything that needed to be said without opening our mouths.

I increased both the pace and pressure. Nearly causing her to fall forward hadn't I held her in place with one hand on her waist and one sill in her hair. Her breath hitched, her entire body tensed as she approached her breaking point.

Oh, how I loved feeling her tighten around me.

Bringing her closer to the edge was a thrill like no other. Watching her lose control, hearing her cries and moans, feeling her body tremble beneath me — it was intoxicating.

I could feel myself getting closer to the edge, my balls tightening as I approached my own release. 

Her cries grew louder, more urgent, until finally, she shattered around me, her orgasm triggering my own.

With a final thrust, I emptied myself inside her, filling her completely. Her contractions milked every last drop from me, her body still quivering around me. 

I stayed inside her, savoring the feeling. It might be the last time.

I was panting, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to catch my breath. My cock was still twitching inside her. Reluctantly, I pulled out with a low moan.

I stayed behind her for a moment longer, admiring the curve of her waist, the sheen of sweat on her skin in the sliver of moonlight. 

Don't know when or if I'll ever see that again.

Time seemed to stand still, suspended indefinitely as we tried to find our breath again.

Then she turned her head. "You're a fucking idiot," she finally said.

"Tell me something I don't know."

She shifted to face me, her expression serious.  "Promise me something."

"Anything you want, love."

"Promise me, you won't kill yourself with your pills."

I swallowed hard. That's not what'll get me, I thought, as I felt a sharp pain lancing through my right side.

I moved closer, cupping her face with my hands that trembled slightly. For an insane moment, I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I couldn't — couldn't ever again. "I promise," I rasped.

The words heavy with a lie we both knew.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: wooooaaa, another insane!gojo chapter lol. this chapter really killed me, was crying, screaming, throwing up while writing.

i'm equally scared and excited to hear what you think about todays chapter, ngl. originally i didn't plan a smut scene in this chapter, but you know, somewhere down that line gojo just happened and here we are. 

also like, i think now both their's darkest secrets are now out — in the worst way possible. also because i keep getting messages regarding how much chapters are left of the story, idk i write form chapter to chapter. we're down somewhere the 60—70 % line with the story i guess, but we'll see. still more to uncover of gojo's past and all that.

also sorry for the people asking of for more fluff and happy moments, ehhh, there will be some in the future?? also i'm still sticking to the plan of a happy ending, so don't worry!! gojo fucked up big time and the next chapters will center about him trying to fight his fears and get shit together — let's see if he can do that. curious myself.

so thank you so so much for sicking by with the story. sending kisses to all of you lovely people seeing me messages, leaving likes, comments and reblog stuff. it really makes my heart happy everything i see a notification. love you all sm!! ♡

okay my last note, just so you know, i'm going on vocation soon, so the next chapter will be a bit delayed again, sorraaaayyy!! wishing you a great day or night and an awesome weekend ahead! ♡

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke @thatsopanu @sirencholia @sugurusdiscordmoderator @erwinslut @shervinss @certainlysyko @mechalily @purplehallow11 @kendall0111 @bloopsstuff @therealestpussyeater @louoi7 @whereflowerswenttodie @billiondollarworth @deluluforcarlos55 @starrynight-777 @vina21 @michelleeveline @boba-is-a-soup @cre8inghavoc @love-jelly @daimiyu @d0nk3y-k0ng @mo0nforme @smolbeanzzz @oneiricals @ynishalee @gojolvrr34 @nanasukii28 @ariiiii0938 @kelppsstuff @tojisdollx @drakenswifeyy @bakarinnie @vina21 @phoenix-eclipses @nanamis-baker @neptnszn (pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in the future!)

#symptoms and causes #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen #saturo gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo angst #gojo angst #jjk smut #gojo satoru #jjk x you #jjk fanfic

[jujutsubaby]

after hours (part 1)

☆ pairing: toji x afab!reader ☆ summary: toji, your objectively hot neighbor, needs a babysitter, and you need some cash. however, things are getting weird because he hasn't paid you in a week and rent is due... ☆ warnings: 18+. MINORS DNI. choking, oral sex (f!recieving), implied parent death, some public nudity, slight power dynamic ☆ tags: modernAU, babysittingAU ☆ a/n: lowkey wrote this with one hand if you catch my drift ꈍ .̮ ꈍ i'm thinking about doing more parts loosely based off of each other following y/n and a love triangle between gojo and toji. yes, they will be horny and yes i will *try* to have some plot let me LIVE okay (°◡°♡) let me know if that's something people are interested in :3 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

"megumiiii~", you sing lightly, "it's time for beeed". it's way past 9pm, and if toji finds out his son was 30 minutes past his bedtime, he'll never let you forget the next time you babysit. not that you have any issue babysitting for your extremely built, ripped, hot, dilf of a neighbor, that is.

megumi groans and tears start lining his little eyes. "but i don't wanna~" he cries out. "there's only 30 minutes left on this show...", he tries to beg. you pick up the candy wrappers you secretly gave megumi after dinner as a treat for eating his veggies.

"okay, first of all, i let you stay up way longer than i should have. second, there's no way in hell am i gonna let you stay up and watch...oh god. you're watching euphoria?!" you exclaim, eyes widening at the thought of megumi watching all the inappropriate content without you even realizing. you hope it's too late in the night and he's far too sleepy and tired to actually retain anything he just watched. you grab the tv remote and turn it off, and pick up megumi in your arms. "c'mon bubs, you've got school tomorrow, and your daddy will be home soon", you whisper softly in his ear.

megumi yawns and mumbles while slowly drifting off. "but i'm not even that sweepyy...". by the time you make it upstairs to his room, megumi is knocked out. you smile softly at him, before quitely closing the door and heading downstairs to the living room to clean up the mess megumi had made.

you look at the time again. 9:45...toji should be back soon, you think to yourself. you decide on reviewing some of your notes for a final next week while euphoria continues to play on the background. you've personally never watched the show, but your roommate, shoko, was obsessed with jacob elordi and loved euphoria, but there was far too much nudity in it for you.

as if right on cue, shoko shoots you a text.

shoko: pls tell me ur balls deep in toji rn babe me n utahime are bored as hell and we need something exciting this friday night 😭

you giggle. it was no secret between you and three that your next door neighbor was insanely hot. you guys always joke about sleeping with toji. you quickly type back:

y/n: stfu what if he was next to me and read this text huh? never gonna happen you know that 🙄

it’s not like you’re not not down for that. you just don’t want to be all over him like everyone else in the neighborhood. you and shoko have seen the way some of these girls did not know how to act on nextdoor whenever toji went on one of his shirtless runs or drove megumi to and from school.

it’s also not like you’re a total virgin either. you’ve had your fair share of ex-boyfriends in the past, but you won’t lie…it has been a while since you’ve been with someone. your thoughts are interrupted by a response from shoko.

shoko: riiiighttt, that's why you asked to borrow my shortest n sluttiest skirt to "babysit" tn 😏

you shake your head, scoffing at your cheeky roommate. you love her, but there's a final next week that isn't going to pass itself. muting the show and putting on your headphones, you get lost in your class notes, reviewing all the important key points and ideas before your final next week. you don’t even notice toji opening the door and his keys clanging on the table as he takes off his shoes and groans after a long day of…work? you’re not entirely sure what he does for a living but you never really bothered to ask. and it’s partially why you were feeling nervous to ask toji about your babysitting payment for the last week, as he hadn’t paid you at all for it. toji heads to the kitchen and opens a cold bottle of beer and saunters to the living room, only to be met with a pair of 4k hd bare titties on the 60 inch tv in his living room and you on the sofa.

toji clears his throat loudly. “whatcha watching, y/n?”, he says cheekily. you look up at toji, startled by his entrance, and you look at the tv, and squeal at what’s on display.

“oh my god, mr. fushiguro! i-i-i have no ideas w-what’s playing. ohmygodidon’tevenknowwhatshowisplaying-” you start rambling, looking around frantically for the remote to turn the tv off.

“relax, y/n-kun”, toji coos. “i’m not judging you. never known anyone to do their best studyin’ while there are a pair of tits on screen, but you always find a way to surprise me.” toji chuckles as you turn off the tv, and moves closer to you so he can sit across the sofa.

“stop teasing me, mr. fushiguro~”, you whine., crossing your arms and pouting. “you know i’d never-“

“c’mon y/n, how many times do i have to tell you to call me toji? i’m not that much older than you, you know that right?”, toji reminds you.

your pout slowly turns into a smile as you laugh slightly. “okay, whatever you say, boomer,” you tease. you and toji both laugh gingerly. you both stare at the blank tv screen, marinating in the comfortable silence you both were familiar with. toji was right when he said he wasn’t much older than you. he was, after all, your age when he had megumi and was somehow making ends meet as a single parent, although you would be lying if you said you hadn’t seen a few women here and there that toji brought home every so often. it was never the same girl more than once, but you definitely knew he had some game, whether you liked it or not. wait, do you not like that he brings girls over?

you shift uncomfortably on the couch as you recall the uncomfortable conversation you need to have with toji. he senses the change in your mood and how you body stiffened up instead of its usually relaxed posture. toji frowns. “hey, what’s on your mind, pumpkin?”

“umm…well, i hope you don’t mind me asking this but…well, i’ve got to pay my portion of rent soon. a-and i’ve noticed that i haven’t gotten paid for the last w-week yet. sorry, i know things are rough but…i was wondering…” you trail off, pleading inside that toji can fill in the blanks himself and can figure out what you’re asking.

toji shifts towards you and locks eyes with you. you don’t really know what you were expecting to see but it sure wasn’t him smirking. you swear you saw a twinkle of playfulness in his eyes as he inches closer and closer to you. almost instinctively, you clench your thighs together, trying really hard not to think about the effect locking eyes with toji has on you.

“aw, i’m sorry, pumpkin.” toji feigns sympathy to you. “you see, i was going to pay you last week. remember when you went to tuck megumi in after last thursday? i had an envelope with the cash i owed you, and i went to put it in your bag, when your laptop chimed with a new message.” your face immediately drops. this can’t be what you think it is. you’re not entirely sure what toji could’ve seen, but also, isn’t this a violation of your privacy? you hold your breath and gulp, daring not to let toji sense how nervous you are.

“oh god, y/n. i didn’t want to look but it’s hard to look away when there’s a message that says ‘so have you fucked your hot dilf neighbor yet?’ don’t tell me you were only babysitting for me because you wanted me?” toji asks, raising an eyebrow, the scar near his lip lifting up slightly in a teasing grin.

“i-i don’t know w-what you’re talking about, toji~ why were you looking at my messages!” you accuse, your face growing hotter by the second with embarrassment and…lust? wait what no, he’s your neighbor you can’t do this! you can feel your panties getting more soaked by the second and you cannot bear to look at toji’s stupid handsome face, so you look at his hands. the way his large fingers rest on the sofa. how would they look around your neck? oh my god, snap out of it!

“why are you telling everyone but me you think i’m hot?” he counters, pulling you from your thoughts. “that reallyyy hurts my feelings, y/n-kun”, toji says as he pretends to pout. wait, when did he get so close to you?

“it’s s-so unprofessional i didn’t want to-“ you start rambling. toji is right next to you, his knees touching your knees. he stops you mid sentence by using his hands that are practically the size of your face to grab your jaw and force you to face him, as you let out a pathetic little whine.

“cut the shit, pumpkin. it’s just babysitting, okay. it’s not that serious,” toji spits harshly. every muscle in your body is on fire, and you have to actively prevent your eyes from rolling back. you swear you had a fantasy dream like this once (oh god, was it with toji?).

“don’t think i don’t see you looking sooo disappointed when i bring yet another girl home with me. hell, it even makes me feel bad…” toji trails off, as he loosens his grip on your jaw, slowly using his fingers to trace your jawline. you shiver at his touch. “hell, even i feel bad when i see your sad sad face drop. my poor girl…”, toji feigns a frown as he starts to softly trace the outline of your lips.

instinctively, you let out a quite moan when his fingers touch your lips. “i do, toji. i feel so sad when i see you with those other girls. i can’t stand it when someone else has you.” you confess, almost embarrassingly easily. your wide bambi eyes look at toji’s, and you’re not sure if you want to cry or beeline back to your place and forget this ever happened. or perhaps a secret third option where you give in to the desires you’ve had all along?

toji groans deeply as he shifts slightly in his seat, but before you’re able to look down and see the hardening tent in his pants, toji shoves his index and middle fingers into your mouth, taking you by surprise. you stifle out a moan before toji sticks them deeper down your throat.

he doesn’t even have to ask you to suck on them as you instinctively start to do so, making a show of gagging on them for toji’s pleasure. you feel warm as you hear toji let out a groan as he slips in a third finger, making you choke on them. your moans vibrate against his fingers and he hums in approval of how well you’re doing with no instruction from him.

“you’re doing so well, pumpkin,” toji hums, a string of saliva connecting his fingers to your mouth as he slowly takes his fingers out of your mouth.

alright, fuck it. this sends you over the edge. your lips crash into toji’s, teeth hitting each as you both get to know the shape of each others mouths. you bite his lip and that’s all it takes for toji to pull you onto his lap and deepen the kiss with his tongue, exploring every inch of your mouth. you feel the vibrations of his groans and your hips grind into his thigh as you put your arms around his neck, pulling yourself as close as you can to him. your legs wrap around his torso as his hands grab your ass harshly. you let out a yelp into his mouth, daring not to end the kiss.

“oh you’ve been waiting for this haven’t you, pumpkin?” toji breaths against your neck after breaking the kiss. he begins to kiss your neck and you moan his name embarrassingly load.

“tojiiii~” you whine, “i need you, please~” you try to move your hips against him to feel some friction in the place you need it the most.

“shhh, you’re gonna wake m’gumi up,” he slurs in a low voice, already drunk off of your warmth. "not so fast, pumpkin", he says as he stills your hips, "i call the shots here." he grins and before you even know it, your back hits the sofa and he pulls your legs up on his shoulders.

you feel exposed, as shoko's pleated skirt does a poor job of leaving anything to the imagination, and all of a sudden, you really wish you wore your trusted boy shorts instead of your black lace thong under it. as he starts to kiss your ankles while looking deeply into your eyes, you see nothing but primal lust on his face. he lightly bites your ankle, making you slightly yelp before covering your mouth, remembering megumi upstairs.

toji's eyes wander to your sweet spot, and it's taking everything in you not to thrust your soaking core into his hungry face. "oh, is that where you want me to touch you?" he teases, his hands running down softly from your ankles to your inner thigh. your hips wiggle side to side, hoping his fingers end up grazing your aching core, but toji holds you hips down roughly. he scoots back and peppers your leg with kisses, slowly inching up and up until he's mere inches away from your panties.

he plants a wet kiss on your clothed mound and you let out a pathetic mewl as toji shoots his head up and stops dead in his tracks. "make another noise, pumpkin, and we end this right now and you go home frustrated and upset." he warns. unfortunately, this turns you on even more and your hands are over your mouth immediately, eyes shut closed, praying toji pities you and gives you some release.

you feel toji take off your panties agonizingly slowly, and your breath hitches. "oh, your panties are fully ruined. better get rid of them." toji says as he tosses them somewhere across the room.

"it's your fault..." you say, you voice a low whisper through your hands.

toji starts back at your mound again and moans into the kiss in agreement. his fingers lightly touch your core, and you shiver in anticipation. "oh, this is where your sensitive, right?" toji teases, as his fingers finally start circling the part of your delicate bud you've been aching for toji to touch. you bite your hand to prevent yourself from moaning loudly, and take deep breaths so to not make any noise.

toji starts circling your sensitive bud with his fingers, moving with your hips as you get to a rhythm that has you on cloud nine. you feel the familiar build up beginning, when toji abruptly takes his fingers away, leaving you breathless and practically whining from his lack of touch. "ohhh, don't worry, pumpkin. i just wanna taste you," he coos, before diving mouth first into your sensitive bud once more, tasting every inch of your delicate core.

this time, you're unable to hold back and your deep breaths are practically moans. you're laughing, whining, crying...you're not actually sure. you're mind is clouded by the pleasure toji's tongue is sending through your body.

toji's fingers start teasing your entrance as your hips buckle and you start grinding on his face. you're making a mess on his sofa but you don't even care, and neither does toji. "oh, toji, fuck~ that feels...soo good...fuck~" you whine. you're practically begging for his fingers inside you, and toji finally complies and inserts his finger inside you.

"please toji~", you whisper, "i need more, please, please."

"wow, someone's a bit greedy. one finger just isn't enough for a slut like you, huh?" toji chides, the vibrations of his voice going straight to your body. he inserts two more fingers, and you feel a pang of pain, which makes you yelp.

"toji~ it's too much," you cry out, unable to handle three of his large fingers inside you at once.

"oh, now it's a problem? you can take it, pumpkin." toji encourages, moving his fingers at a moderate pace while his mouth is still playing with your delicate bud. the pain slowly turns into pleasure, and the pleasure slowly turns into an inevitable build up that's starting to cloud your vision.

"toji~" you whine. "i'm getting so close, please..." you trail off, trying your hardest to lower your moans.

"please what?" toji asks, knowing full well what you wanted, and that he was the only person able to give it you. toji's member was practically begging for escape against his dark pants, but he was far too drunk on your sweet nectar. he doesn't remember the last time he tasted someone as addicting as you.

"please, can i...c-can i...?" you don't get to finish your sentence before toji groans a "yes" into your core, and the dam that had been building finally burst as you release all over toji's face.

you pant heavily as you finish, hoping you weren't too loud. toji lifts his head from between your legs and immediately darts to your lips, kissing you deeply before you can say anything. you moan into the kiss, still feeling the effects of your orgasm rippling through your sensitive body. you taste yourself in toji's kiss and you never want it to end. a whine escapes your mouth when toji's lips finally disconnect from yours, an unashamed smile playing on toji's face. "did you like that, pumpkin?" he asks.

you're still catching your breath as you nod and smile, gazing at him softly. you can't help but want to return the favor for toji, as you slowly get up and scan toji up and down. god, he's so fucking fit.

you scoot closer to toji, maintaining eye contact, and placing your hands on his upper thigh. oh my god, his legs are just pure rock hard muscle. your hands shake slightly as they make their way on top of toji's hard straining member. toji chuckles as you grasp him over his dark pants, stopping you in your tracks by grabbing your wrist and moving it away from him.

"woah, hold on there y/n. it's 11pm. a bit too late to start something now, dontcha think?" he inquires, raising his eyebrows at you.

heat rises to your cheeks and you feel so embarrassed you could combust. oh my god, wait, does he not want you to return the favor? the insecurity showed up immediately on your face, with your lips frowning and eyebrows scrunching. toji cups the side of your face endearingly and his thumb grazes your lower lip before letting it sit there.

"hey, don't give me that look. i want this. i want you but...it's late. megumi has school tomorrow and it's parent teacher night. i know you have class, too," he explains.

you pout, but not before sucking toji's thumb that was grazing your lower lip and giving it a wet kiss. "that's not fair~ i really want to return the favor toji..." your voice trails, as you already know this conversation is over. you sigh as you turn away from him and reach for your notebook and laptop on the coffee table. you get up and bend down to grab your bag and start packing your belongings and fishing out your keys.

you hear toji hum and turn around to see the gears twisting in his dark eyes that are fixated on you. wait, hold on. he's not looking at you. he's looking at your ass. and he's being so obvious and unashamed about it, too!

you blush and roll your eyes as you chide toji. "wow, so you don't want me to suck your dick but you're gonna look at my ass as i leave?"

toji laughs earnestly and the sound of his laughter makes you feel warm and relaxed inside. you could probably live the rest of your life hearing that laugh. wait, what? rest of your life?

"first off, i do want you to suck me off, pumpkin. second, am i not allowed to respectfully admire? anyway, i was thinking. maybe you come with us to the parent-teacher meeting tomorrow? you practically help the kid with his homework every other night, and i think he really sees you as someone he can trust." toji says, bringing you out of your thoughts. you notice the hidden solitude behind his eyes, and feel a pang of melancholy in your heart. you don't know much about toji and megumi's mom, and you never thought it appropriate to discuss with either one of them, so you always let it be. a part of you is curious and another part is afraid to touch such a vulnerable side to toji, fearing it may alter your relationship with him permanently.

"we can grab dinner before, too. my treat." toji winks, and you scoff. he never even makes sure there's food for you at home before he leaves, always leaving you to pay for your own dinner every night you babysit, let alone pay a meal for you.

you roll your eyes, trying to act upset, but a giggle breaks out anyway. "yeah, i'd love to." you respond genuinely.

you finish packing up your things before searching for your discarded panties in toji's living room. "looking for these?" toji teases, holding up your lacy black thong, still ruined with the mess you made earlier today.

"give 'em back, toji~" you say, trying to reach for the panties from toji, before he stuffs them in his pocket.

"i think i'll keep these actually. they need to go in the laundry anyway, might as well be here." he teases, as you pout. toji cracks an evil grin, knowing deep down you must love having to go back home without any panties in your short skirt.

and he was right, you kinda did love it. a blush creeps up to your cheeks as you shake your head in dismay. "you're so fuckin' annoying, y'know?" you say as toji interlaces his fingers with yours as he walks to you to the door.

"yeah, i know. let's see if you're still that mouthy after you choke on me tomorrow," toji says, giving you a playfully menacing look.

the cool air of the late night nips at your skin, making you shiver, but you know deep down that has more to do with thinking about all the things toji will do to your poor throat tomorrow evening. "hm, we'll see...," you say, as your breath hitches slightly. you stand up on your tippy toes to give a quick peck goodnight to toji.

you honestly should've known better because toji immediately leans forward and turns the quick kiss into a deep make out session in the chill yet humid night air. he's quick to grab your ass, and you're quick to regain your senses and break off the kiss. oh my god, what if someone saw us, you think, recalling all the girls in the neighborhood that fawn over toji and the fact that you weren't wearing panties thanks to toji.

"stop toji~ it's late like you said," you whine, wriggling out of his strong grasp. you turns you around, you back flush against him and he laughs into your neck, arms wrapping your hips tightly from behind.

he releases you but not before giving you one last squeeze. "goodnight, pumpkin."

"night, toji," you say softly as you turn around and head to your car in the driveway. you do a poor job of pulling your skirt down as low as it can possibly get without you looking incredibly stupid, and cross your arms in the cold breeze.

you hear the door close, and start up the car engine and back out, relying only on muscle memory to get you home, as you spend the entire five minute car ride thinking solely about everything that happened today. how were you ready for another release already? you make a mental note to charge your vibrator when you get back to your apartment.

just as you pulled into the drive way, you jaw fell and you remembered. oh shit wait, he still hasn't paid me.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #toji zenin #dilf toji #fushiguro toji #jjk modern au #jjk smut #toji smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro smut #jjk fan fiction

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 668

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

I’m Not Your F*ckng Maid

-Prologue-

Dean was awoken with a slam inches from his face and he sprung to life, almost losing his balance before he realised where he was. He’d fallen asleep at the table with his face in a book and surrounded by heaps of paper - many of which he hadn’t even started to read through yet. Blinking awake and gaining his bearings, he heard a familiar voice ring through the room.

”You boys are disgusting, how do you live like this?” The older Winchester finally looked up to see Charlie lifting a plate of half eaten, day-old pizza whilst kicking several beer bottles aside so she could pull out a chair and take a seat next to Dean, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

”Yeah well, we’ve been a little busy recently if you haven’t noticed,” his voice was gravelly from the sleep. Charlie put down the plate of old food and sat down, worry crossing her face as she looked at the man next to her. She knew they’d been under a lot of pressure lately with their work, so much so that the brothers were starting to neglect themselves. It had been months since they’d eaten proper food that wasn’t instant or take-out, they rarely went outside, always locking themselves away in the bunker to do research and the bunker itself was getting cluttered with bin bags and pizza boxes. Not to mention the piles of laundry that she’s noticed slowly starting to form its own ecosystem in the washroom.

“Yeah I get that, but you really have to look after yourselves. When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”

Dean scoffed.

“Yesterday, obviously,” he gave her a look like she was from another planet, and she rolled her eyes.

“The pizza sauce doesn’t count, Dean.”

He looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow, “Why not?”

Before she could even humour him with an answer, Sam emerged, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh hey Charlie, when did you get here?” His voice was equally as gravelly as Deans, so she assumed he’d also just woken up.

“Five minutes ago.”

“She called us disgusting Sam. And she said the sauce on pizza isn’t made from vegetables,” Dean gestured to Charlie like she was the fool as he looked up at his younger brother who now stood across from him on the other side of the table. Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly and furrowed his brows, clearly unsure how to reply to his older brother without opening a can of worms. Charlie huffed.

“You guys need to sort yourself out. I only dropped by because I hadn’t heard from you for a while and thought you might’ve worked yourself to death. I can’t stay long because I’m meeting a friend for a drink. She’s already at the diner waiting for me”

“A friend?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the redhead smirked.

“I wish, sadly she’s into dudes,” she paused, a thought crossing her mind, “Come to think of it, she’s actually looking for work, you guys might be able to help.”

Dean and Sam shared a glance.

“She’s a hunter?” Sam asked.

“Not exactly. Her uncle was, so she knows about stuff, but from what I know she was just a research girlie,” Charlie peered at the mess of papers on the table, “and it looks like you could use the help.” She looked between the brothers as they stared at each other, like they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. A few moments passed before Dean slapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Sure ok, but we’re coming with you today to meet her,” he went to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, an eagerness in his movements before Charlie put her hand out to stop him.

“Great!” She grinned, before raising her eyebrows and pointing to them both, “but first you guys have got to shower, because I can taste your BO from here.”

——————————————————————

Up Next

Chapter 1

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #Dean Winchester x reader smut #Dean Winchester x you smut #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader #dean winchester smut

[sparklingchim]

long way home 26 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 4.9k

genre: dilf!jungkook, friends to lovers, angst

warnings: ... emotions 🫡

summary: the one where decisions are made.

a/n: i can't believe m actually typing this out but we're at the end of lwh !!! thank u to everyone reading this series <3 i love uuuu <3

chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |

masterlist | long way home masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

The coffee shop is eerily tranquil today. There aren’t many customers.

Only a few people linger at the tables near the windows and a single person stands in line.

The only loud noise comes from your phone pressed to your ear as Seulgi screams and yells at you.

You definitely should have waited until you entered the break room, because you’re afraid Seulgi’s voice is loud enough to hear.

“You promised me you would talk to him!”

You close the door with a push of your palm.

“I know, I’m going to.” You sigh and sit down at the table. “I just don’t know when exactly.” You sound sheepish, a worried crease appearing between your brows.

"Did he text you at all?”

“No. Why would he? I literally kicked him out of my place.”

Seulgi groans at your reminder. “Tell me why you did that again?”

“Seulgi,” you whine. You need her advice. She had already done the scolding part days ago.

“I know, I know – I'm sorry,” she replies, softer now – less accusing.

You fidget with your fingers. “Should I text him?”

“No, that’s not a good approach,” she dismisses.

“At least it’s something,” you retort. You could send him a short message. Though you’re not sure what it would contain. Hi, I'm sorry for making you leave, can we pls pls pls talk I miss you. You grimace. Maybe a call would be more suitable.

“Y/n,” Seulgi says, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You know what’s more important than figuring out how to approach a conversation?” She pauses, but you stay silent. “Being ready to tell him the truth.”

You told Seulgi of your feelings for Jungkook the day after he confessed to you. She sat on your couch and watched you intently after you announced in a flustered tone I have to tell you something, right after you had talked about what had happened the day before.

You waited for a reaction, but none came. She had a vacant expression. “I know,” she said then, shrugging nonchalantly. “You think you were being secretive about it?” A puzzled look spread across her face.

You felt your cheeks grow hot.

“Are you?” Seulgi presses.

“Yes. I think I am.”

“Good, because this isn’t gonna fix itself,” she says. “Not unless you finally have the courage to be honest with him.”

She’s right. And even though it’s scary, you have nothing to lose. You have already lost your two favourite people in the world.

“And now go and talk to him.”

“What?” Seulgi can’t possibly mean that.

"Go to his place and have a conversation with him.” As if it were that easy.

“I’m at work, Seulgi.”

“You’re taking a break right now,” she counters.

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts,” she interjects. “Just go and get your friend back. Or future boyfriend, whatever.” Seulgi is unwavering. But your doubts and hesitations slowly start to fade. “I can’t keep watching you be sad. It breaks my heart,” she adds, in a much smaller voice.

“Seulgi,” you pout. She has seen you at your lowest points, and of course you know that she is compassionate, but when you hear her voice, your throat tightens.

“You’re gonna leave now?” she asks.

It’s a bit hectic and far too spontaneous, but her words have planted determination in your mind. But maybe that is exactly what you need. This way you don’t have time to overthink and come up with possible scenarios that make you doubt everything and give you sleepless nights.

“I am.” You take a look at the clock. You still have time left, but it’s definitely not nearly enough for walking to Jungkook’s apartment and talking to him. You have to do this now. If you postpone it to later, you’re not certain if you still have the bravery to do it.

“The next time you call it better be to tell me that Jungkook is your boyfie.”

You ignore her. “I’m gonna hang up now, I don’t have time. And thank you, really, without you I’d probably never do this.”

“That’s what friends are for,” she says warmly. You wish you could hug her.

After the call you leave the break room. There still aren’t a lot of customers and you’re thankful for that.

“Jimin.” You walk up to him. He’s loading cakes into the display case. He gives you a sweet smile.

“Hey, uh – I kinda have something quick to do,” you start, gauging his reaction. “Do you think you could – It’s just something really important and I don’t know if I can do it later and-”

“It’s okay, y/n,” he interrupts, the smile still on display. “I’ll cover for you, no problem. Do what you have to do, there is no rush.”

He doesn’t ask for a reason. He doesn’t ask how long you’ll be away. He doesn’t ask any questions. You would pull him into a hug if you weren’t in such a hurry.

You tug at the tie of your apron at your back and pull it off your body. Jimin reaches out to you and you hand him your black apron.

“Thank you. I promise I’ll be back soon!”

You don’t know the outcome of this, but you will take the initiative and at least try to make things better than they have been the last couple weeks.

You’re a little hopeful, and you have yet to find out if you are foolish for that.

With your heart pounding in your ears, you rush out of the coffee shop.

~

The walk from the coffee shop to Jungkook’s apartment isn’t that long, but it gives you time to question your choice.

You stand in the elevator of Jungkook’s apartment building, wondering whether you should press the button that will take you back down.

Earlier, a guy walked out of the building when you were about to ring Jungkook’s doorbell. You were able to slip into the building without announcing your presence to Jungkook. You feel more comfortable this way, though your hands start feeling clammy.

The elevator stops at Jungkook’s floor. The steps that lead you to his apartment door are uncertain, ready to turn and sprint down the stairs.

But you didn’t come here just to run away. You want things to be good between Jungkook and you.

You take a deep breath and press the doorbell.

A few seconds pass. Then, the door opens.

Jungkook stands in front of you. His long, dark hair is a fluffy and wavy mess on top of his head, adorned with little wispy flyaways around his face. He’s in casual clothes – black sweatpants combined with an oversized white pullover.

He seems startled to see you.

“Hi,” you say, a little breathless.

“Hi.” His usual mellow lilt carries a rare hesitancy.

“Do you have time to talk?” A lump forms in your throat and you swallow it down.

“Yeah, sure.” He makes room for you to enter and closes the door behind you. You change into a pair of slippers and follow Jungkook to the living room.

“Is Nabi sleeping?” You can’t help but ask. You kind of hoped to see her. You missed her and maybe she could’ve eased your nervousness a little.

“I put her down for a nap a while ago.” Jungkook sits down next to you on the couch, a considerable distance between you. He glances at the clock hanging on the wall. “She should be up soon, though.”

When his eyes draw back to you, you feel a little helpless. You remind yourself of what Seulgi told you. This isn’t gonna fix itself.

After sorting the chaos in your head, you say, “I wanted to apologise for being so selfish all the time.”

Jungkook parts his lips to speak, but you continue before he can say anything. “I’ve never fully tried to look at things from your perspective and narrowed my mind to what I thought was the best solution.” You pull your sleeves over your hands. “It shouldn’t have been that way.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook replies, flashing you a tiny smile that disappears soon after. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I shouldn’t have made you leave. That was heedless and inconsiderate of me,” you admit, biting your lip in guilt. “You opened up to me and I didn’t know what to do. There was a lot in my mind, and I just needed some space for a moment – I'm sorry, truly.” You avert your gaze to the carpet. “I honestly didn’t prepare what to say, I just – I left work because I needed to talk to you.”

“Why do you sacrifice so much for me?”

He insinuates more than leaving work in the middle of your shift.

A string tugs at your heart. Jungkook was honest with you, it’s time to be honest with him too – and maybe to yourself as well. It’s time to acknowledge the feelings you hold for him in a hidden little niche of your heart.

It’s difficult to bare that part of you when you’re so used to hiding it.

“Because I love you.”

You said it. And you mean it. Wholeheartedly so.

You can’t foreshadow his response and what will happen, but you’re glad you said it. The relief that courses through you was worth it.

Jungkook’s stare is intense. You don’t know if it’s the intensity of his stare or what you’ve just confessed, but every single bone inside of you feels ignited. You’re burning from the inside with sheer anxiety darting through you, while Jungkook remains silent.

Your words hang in the air, so simple and yet so daunting.

Jungkook’s pierced eyebrow twitches. He opens his mouth but not a single sound passes his lips.

You don’t blame him. Three days ago you shooed him away after he told you the exact same thing. In retrospect, you deeply regret that decision. But at that moment, you were overwhelmed and needed to be alone. Sort your thoughts. And then talk to him again.

You shift in your seat. “Jungkook.” It’s a soft murmur of his name, a trace of pity and urge creeping in your voice.

The spark leaves Jungkook’s eyes and he casts his gaze away. “It doesn’t change that you made me leave. You still don’t want anything to do with me. Right?”

You shake your head vehemently. But he is still not looking at you, so you say, “That’s not true.” You sit closer to him, fingers curling against the fabric of his sweater on his elbow. “That night was overwhelming for me. I made a mistake when I told you to leave, but I didn’t know what else to do.” Doe eyes lock with yours. You realise how much you missed his glimmering eyes that hold the night sky within them. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you back in my life, Jungkook.” His sweater crumples into a tiny ball in your palm. “I missed you.”

His answer is immediate. “I missed you too.”

Your chest feels light. A giddy warmth encloses you like a blanket.

“I’m sorry. For the way I acted,” you say.

“It’s okay. You’ve already apologised.” He looks down at your hand grasping his sweater. You should let go, but even the smallest hint of physical touch feels reassuring.

“I know but I just – I just think we’re equally as responsible for how things have turned out.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, definitely.” With a sigh he leans back. His tatted fingers vanish in his dark hair as he cascades through them.

“I really wanna try this. I want to be with you.”

He unclasps your fingers from his sweater and holds your hand. It’s an innocent, small gesture and still, your skin buzzes with delight.

“Y/n.” The way he whispers your name, tender and careful, as if not to break you. “Don’t you realise how much more you deserve?”

Your brows furrow. “But...” You squeeze his hand. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand.

“I promised myself to get over you after we graduated high school,” you tell. “But that clearly never happened.” Looking at both your hands you feel silly for ever thinking you could suppress your feelings for Jungkook.

“High school?” he inquires.

You feel small beneath his sharp gaze. “Well, yeah.” You shrug. “You’re like. Really pretty.” Heat crawls up into your cheek. “And we hung out like 24/7. It was not that hard to fall for you.”

“I mean, same.” The corner of Jungkook’s mouth tilts upwards.

Your lips form a tiny ‘o’. He has feelings for you since high school? It doesn’t make sense. “But you never shut up about how we’re such good friends,” you accuse him. All these years. And you didn’t know.

“Oh, yeah. That was...” He trails off.

“That was what?” You level him with a raised brow.

You see the struggle in Jungkook’s eyes. You don’t want to push him, but there are no more lies between you, no more secrets and untruths. You want only total honesty from now on.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough. That you deserved more.”

You shake your head in denial. “Why would you ever think that?” The years you spent with him as a teenager are full of happy memories. There were no big fights, and you don’t think you ever said or did something that made him feel that way. He’s been your best friend for so long. You love him just the way he is. “Did I ever make you feel like that?”

“Your father once told me not to try to pursue anything more than friends with you,” he explains hesitantly. “That’s why I’ve always talked about being such good friends.”

“He said what.” You’re stunned. What was your dad thinking?

Jungkook pulls your hands to his lap. “He only meant the best for you at the time.” He remains calm but little bubbles of anger prick at your skin.

“I don’t care what he was thinking.” You scowl, lips drawn into an angry pout. “So you’re telling me that if my dad hadn’t said anything, we would’ve-”

“Don’t get mad now,” he interrupts, an amused smile playing at his lips as he tucks an errant strand of hair behind you ear. “Your dad didn’t have any ill intend. I know we could’ve saved us a lot of time and misunderstandings but looks at us. Years later and we’re still in love. It doesn’t matter if in high school or now. It’s the same love. Just - “Jungkook flashes you a cute smile. “I think the only thing that has changed is that I love you even more.”

You bite down your lip. This. This is all you’ve ever wanted.

“Being apart from you was terrible,” you say, scooting closer to him. “I spent so much time thinking about you, you know that?”

He chuckles. “I think I do. You never leave my mind, y/n.” His hand around yours feels strong, protective.

“Never?” You ask tentatively. Looking at him through your lashes.

“No,” he confirms, a subtle, gentle shake of his head. “Never.”

You’re not even that close to him, but your entire body prickles at the proximity of Jungkook. The weeks without him have made you forget how it feels when you’re with him and now your body reacts to it like anticipating the last book of a fantasy series.

You need him closer than this. And it’s almost as if Jungkook can hear your thoughts, because he lets go of your hand and instead pulls you by your waist into his side. His hand lingers at your waist. And you might just feel like your skin is on fire.

“I like this better.” Jungkook’s voice is low, and so so close, it sends shivers down your spine.

“Me too,” you mumble. You have your chin propped up against his arm, looking at him with a small smile. You grow shy beneath his gaze, and you don’t even know why. “I’ve always wanted this.” You clasp your hands around his arm.

“Good,” Jungkook agrees, voice an octave deeper. Oh. More goose bumps. “Because I’ve always dreamt of this too.”

His other hand comes up to your face. He cups your cheek so delicately, the warmth of his palm is a soothing distraction from your racing heart.

Jungkook’s eyes dart between your eyes and lips, a question floating in the air that he is too afraid to ask.

“Jungkook.” It’s a plea, a request a yes, please kiss me and make me forget the world for just a moment.

Jungkook bends down. Your heart thumps against your chest and when you feel the softest hint of his mouth against yours, it stops beating.

The kiss is brief, gentle. A mere brush of your lips. Your eyes flutter open when Jungkook pulls back again, just the tiniest bit. He gives your waist a squeeze. His lips left a glimmer of tingles on your lips, and you ache for more.

“I spent so long waiting for this moment I was worried fate might never let me have you,” he whispers against your lips.

“You have me, Jungkook.” It leaves your mouth like a promise. “I’m here.”

Your hands loop around his neck and you surge forward, pulling Jungkook into another kiss. He moves his lips against yours in a practiced manner, as though you did that every single day of your lives. Like he is the missing piece of your heart to make you whole again.

Jungkook tugs you closer to him. You raise to your knees and throw a leg over Jungkook’s thigh. He follows your movements with his mouth, the softness in the beginning switching into a frantic, messy kiss.

You sit on his thigh, hands diving into his fluffy hair. You pull at some strands when he bites down your lip, moan into his mouth when he pushes you closer at your lower back and you graze over his thigh. With every sweep of his lips, another broken bone of your body mends.

You never want this moment to end.

You didn’t know you needed this so desperately, but now that you’re in Jungkook’s embrace you never want to let him go. Just you two, forever.

But then a sudden cry blares through the apartment.

Jungkook draws back. His forehead is against yours.

You two need a second to come back to the real world. The afterglow clouds your rational thoughts like the night setting after a beautiful summer day.

Your breathing is laboured, so is Jungkook’s. Your hands slide down to his neck and down to his shoulders.

“Nabi woke up from her nap.” His nose scrunches at Nabi’s wailing. He plants a tiny smooch on your lips, lingering close for a chaste moment before he gets you off his thigh.

You think about waiting until he returns with Nabi, but you can’t wait to see her tiny, bubbly form after so long.

Before Jungkook leaves the room, you scramble to your feet and reach for his hand. “I missed her,” you whine and Jungkook leads you to the nursery with a promising squeeze of his hand.

When you follow Jungkook into Nabi’s room, you take tentative steps towards her crib. Nabi is curled up in her little blankets, her round doe eyes shimmering with tears. Instinctually, you coo at her sight. Your heart softens.

“Wanna hold her?” Jungkook asks. His eyes never left you since you entered the room.

You nod – way too animatedly – and you think you see a smile spreading across Jungkook’s face out of the corner of your eye.

Ever so gently, you swoop Nabi into your embrace. Her little sobs ring throughout the room and nip straight at your heart. “My baby,” you murmur. You rock her in your arms. “I missed you so, so much.” She is wearing her baby bear romper, the material a fuzzy brown with two little bear ears attached to the hood.

Nabi is a small, fluffy bear and you’ve missed this tiny human so enormously.

Her doe eyes – an exact replication of her dad’s – stare up at you. The cries subside into whimpers, her puffy lips trembling.

“Nabi.” Her name bubbles past your lips in a whisper. You brush your knuckle against her doughy cheek. “Do you remember me?” She blinks through her thin, wet eye lashes. Having her in your arms unfolds a gloomy feeling in your chest. Yes, you are happy to see her again, but how were you able to spend more than two weeks without her?

“Are you crying?” Jungkook suddenly asks, stepping forward.

It’s only then you discern the tears pricking your eyes. “No,” you deny, sniffing a little.

A soft chuckle springs from his chest. Jungkook stands behind you, nuzzling his head to the side of your face. His burly arms envelop your waist. “Don’t cry,” he mutters. He faintly nudges your cheek with his nose. “You’ll never be separated from her again.”

“I wouldn’t survive that.” Your lower lip juts out as you’re in awe with Nabi’s cuteness. She has your heart.

“She wouldn’t either,” Jungkook retorts. His hushed timbre so close to your ear is drawing you back to him. You slowly rest your head against his chest. His voice. You could listen to him talk for hours with no end. “Nabi wouldn’t settle for sleep if she didn’t have some of your clothes in her bed.”

With a quick tilt of your head, you glance up at him. And then your eyes travel to Nabi’s crib. You see something in a lavender colour peeking from underneath Nabi’s blanket. A top you must have left here.

You thought you had successfully managed to restrain your tears, but here you are again, with new tears stinging your eyes.

“You can't just say that.” Dolour cloaks your voice. “It’s gonna make me cry.”

“Sweetheart.” He pecks the crown of your head. “It’s okay now.” There’s a hint of amusement swirling in his tone. But his touches on your body are soft, soothing.

Nabi has gone completely silent in your grasp. You boop her nose. A smile unfurls on your face. So little. A broad smile blossoms on Nabi as a reaction, pudgy cheeks scrunching her twinkling eyes. The absolute sweetest giggle sparks from her. Your heart clenches at the sound.

But then your eyes spot her reddened gums and the faint white outlines of her teeth.

You gasp. “She is growing teeth already?” With a swift whirl of your head, you stare at Jungkook, eyes wide.

“Yeah, and she’s been really fussy about it.”

“Oh my God,” you utter, looking at the little baby in your arms who’s growing up too fast. A subliminal melancholy sets in your tummy. “She was just a tiny baby and now she has teeth?” You ask, appalled.

“Not yet,” Jungkook says. “But it doesn’t matter how fast she grows – she will be my little baby forever.” Nabi’s eyes are drawn to Jungkook as he speaks. “Isn’t that right? Hm?” He leans over your shoulder, squishing her doughy cheek with his fingers. Nabi squeals, another smile displayed on her mouth.

You give Jungkook a kiss on his cheek. His eyes are sparkling just like Nabi’s. Jungkook turns his face to you. “And you,” – his lips brush over the corner of your mouth – “You will be my baby forever too.”

You laugh against his mouth.

“What.” He raises his brows, a pleased expression on his face.

“You’re silly.”

“No, I’m not.” He pulls you closer to him. Your back is flush against his lean body.

“I’m just saying the truth.”

“Oh, yeah?” Playfulness flashes in your eyes.

He gives you a firm nod. “Yeah.” Jungkook gently strokes your hair over your shoulder. Your skin tingles when his digits unintendedly skim over your neck.

“Tell me another then.”

“I love you.” He didn’t let a second pass before answering. “I’m so incredibly in love with you.”

Your heart flutters in your chest. “I love you.”

His loving eyes bore into your soul. No one has ever looked at you the way Jungkook does. Like you are beautiful, a work of art.

A deep warmth of domesticity floats in the air. It’s a vast contrast to how you have been feeling in the past days.

You share a sweet kiss with him, but it gets quickly disrupted by demanding babbling from beneath you.

"Yes, I love you too, missy,” Jungkook says, brushing her thin hair from her forehead. Her brows are deeply furrowed. He gives her a kiss there. Nabi’s trembling pout changes into a beam. “Always needy of attention, huh?”

“Just like her daddy,” you tease, grinning at Jungkook, before you leave the nursery with Nabi.

Jungkook catches your waist in the hallway. “You’re right,” he admits, a smirk curving his lips. He pulls you into his side as he walks you to the kitchen. “That’s why I don’t wanna spent any second of my life apart from you anymore.” Jungkook pecks your forehead.

A shy smile sets on your mouth. You sir down at the dining table and watch Jungkook opening a cupboard with Nabi’s food.

Nabi has found interest in playing with your hair, occasionally tugging at it.

“Not a single second?” you ask mindlessly, eyes focused on Nabi.

“I’m being serious.” He pops open a jar. “Y’know what.” Jungkook turns around to you. “You should move in with me.”

Your head snaps to him.

You search for a hint that tells you that he doesn’t actually mean it, but Jungkook doesn’t budge.

“I mean it,” he confirms.

“I can’t just move out of my apartment like that,” you reason.

Jungkook shrugs. “Just stay with me.”

It sounds so simple from his lips. And maybe it is. Seulgi has already taught you today the simplicity of just acting without overthinking too much beforehand.

“That way Minjun can’t bother you anymore.” Something flashes in Jungkook’s eyes. “Next time I see him I’m gonna break his neck.”

You ponder for a second. “I mean, I spent most of my time here anyway,” you say. “But lets not rush anything.” You don’t want this to be ruined before it has even properly started.

“Of course, baby.” He turns to the counter again. “Only if you want.”

You watch from behind as he prepares Nabi’s food. The contours of his shoulder muscles flexing with his movements conjure butterflies in your tummy. Hm. Maybe you should consider moving in if this is what you’ll get to see every day.

“Waking up next to you for the rest of my life sounds like a dream, honestly,” Jungkook flirts. You don’t have to see him to know he’s grinning annoyingly.

You’re glad he doesn’t see the way your teeth involuntarily sink into your bottom lip at his teasing voice.

“Your daddy can be insufferable sometimes,” you whisper conspiratorially, looking down at Nabi. She babbles something in return. You giggle and Nabi squeals in delight.

“What are my girls talking about?” Jungkook asks.

“None of your concern.”

You hear him huff. Suddenly, you remember that you left work during your shift. And that you promised Jimin to be back as soon as possible.

“Jungkook,” you gasp. He immediately turns to you. “I have to go back to work. Jimin is covering for me, but I've left him for way too long. I-”

“It’s okay, I’ll drive you back.” Jungkook’s calm voice works like a miracle cure for your panic. “I’ll just feed Nabi real quick and then we can leave.”

“You don’t have to. I can walk back.”

“I want to,” Jungkook says. “Besides, we can eat our cookies again. It’s been so long since I’ve eaten one.”

“I haven’t eaten one in so long as well.” The last time was together with Jungkook.

Jungkook blinks perplexed. “How have you survived until now?” He closes the distance between you, the back of his hand against your forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You roll your eyes and swat his arm. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Why are you on a cookie diet?”

“Reminded me too much of you,” you mumble.

“Baby,” Jungkook coos. His knuckles trace the skin of your cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you as many as you want.”

You grin mischievously. “For the rest of my life?”

“Of course.”

“Daaa,” Nabi gurgles.

“Yes, I’ll buy you as many cookies you want too, once you grow your teeth.”

“That’s gonna be so soon.” You pout.

“We’ll always have time to make a second b-”

“Jungkook hurry.” You push him away. “Poor Jimin is covering for me, and Nabi is gonna starve.”

“Okay, okay,” he replies, though he doesn’t go back until he traps your mouth in a tender kiss. It’s a short kiss, but it messes with every coherent thought in your brain.

You wait for Jungkook to bring Nabi’s warm food. He opens the cutlery drawer and fishes out her tiny, pink spoon.

You smile when you think about the phone call you’re gonna have with Seulgi later. The next time you call it better be to tell me that Jungkook is your boyfie.

The ambiance is cosy – Nabi snuggled up in your arms, Jungkook sending cute smiles your way as he gets her food ready – a feeling of utter contentment that has your whole body at peace.

It’s been a long way to get here, but you finally feel at home.

#jeon jungkook #dilf jungkook #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook f2l #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #bts angst #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts scenarios

[lilystyles]

old friends.

part one of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note i’m aussie so i have no idea what england/london (where this fic is set) is actually like. so if i get it wrong i apologise i’ve never been there! also, i know harry didn’t go to uni and became famous way younger than in this fic but for the sake of the plot pls ignore that! and gif credits to the original owner as always. make sure to follow if you want to see part two!

brief description harry and y/n are old friends who reunite and quickly pick right back up where they left off. new tensions arise and a deal is struck up.

warnings! mentions of sex, smut (m! receiving, dry humping, kissing, fingering), swearing, alcohol abuse and overall just a mature read. 5kish words (i didn't mean to make it this long whoops enjoy)

inexperienced!virgin!reader x fwb!harry

* * * * *

Maybe getting with him wasn’t the best idea. Y/n could admit that. 

She knew getting involved with one of her oldest friends and messing with the friend group dynamic was a dangerous game, they’d all been mates for years, and she had taken it into account before they struck up the deal. But there was just something about Harry that she couldn’t help but be drawn to. 

She’d known him since her they were kids. They’d grown up together from the awkward stages all the way up to now. He was this successful rockstar who the world simply adored, and she had always known he’d do something great with himself ever since she’d been old enough to comprehend the idea itself. She was studying still at university in a degree she loved. They had made it in this world! So far from their small village where they had dreamed up their futures. If only the two children could see them now. 

Though they were never best friends when they were younger they had always ran in the same circle and saw a lot of each other for as long as Y/n could remember it. It was only during University that they had become close friends. They had even been roommates for a year there. They both only knew each other then so it made sense for them to be together a lot.

Even through all those years, nothing had ever been more than platonic between them. Sure, Y/n had known he was handsome, and overall a lovely person but she knew that he was her friend more importantly. She valued that. She loved her friends, all of them. 

She’ll admit that there had been moments where she’d briefly thought of Harry in that way. Usually, when they were out drinking and he’d take care of her, only a few times when they were roommates and they shared late nights talking on the couch, but overall she kept it at bay. Knowing that friendship was more important to her than almost anything.

Not to mention Harry was a very loved man, he’d had many girlfriends in the years Y/n had known him. They had never particularly warmed to her, especially when they were roommates they all despised her. Honestly though, back then they had nothing to worry about. Y/n was too scared to try anything. 

But there was always some sort of tension there. Y/n never understood it really, not until a good friend of the both of them, James, said that it was just the way Harry treated her. He called her pet names, was constantly affectionate towards her (especially drunk), loved to make her laugh, and during Uni they were inseparable. When his fame skyrocketed she saw much less of him, understandably, and she got busy with her studies.

When he came home for a break from touring and showed up at the group’s Christmas party he saw her for the first time in about two years. They had drifted but not in the sense that it was awkward, more so that it was like when they saw each other it was like not a moment had passed. She smiled widely and stood up from the couch surprised to see him in there in front of her and not just splashed on a billboard. 

She was still Y/n, but she was older. She wasn’t in a baggy old shirt with her eyes glued to a computer typing away. She was here in a tight red jumper that showed a sliver of skin and a tattoo by her hip that he had never known about, with these jeans that hugged her perfect body. Her cheeks were just as rosy as before, her eyes just as doe-like, lips just as sweet only covered in a red gloss. She was still Y/n, but Harry felt like he was back in primary school when he’d pulled on her pigtail. She was fucking gorgeous and their history made it even better. He knew her well, so well. That would never change.

Even having not seen or heard from each other properly for nearly two years he instantly made his way to her and pulled her into a tight hug. His ring-covered hands were on the exposed skin of her lower back, as she giggled into his chest happily in a welcome surprise. 

His deep voice rumbled. “Hi, stranger.”

“Haz,” She sighed. It’d been a long time since he’d heard that nickname. She pulled back to look at him; he was just as beautiful as before, more tattooed, more glamorous but still the beautiful boy she remembered.

“Hi.” She said softly, eyelashes fluttering.

Nothing happened that night, not then. They just talked until the sun rose, catching up it was like no time had passed. He was still as charming and funny and she was still as coy and kind. 

New Year’s Eve was the next time they saw each other after reuniting. He found Y/n sadly sitting on the balcony of their friend Daisy’s apartment. She was in this little silver disco-ball dress with tall boots, a cigarette in her mouth. He’d been ordered by the others to find her. It was freezing out here.

“What are you doing out here, Love?”

She turned and he could see the glassy wash of her eyes. She looked so pretty, even when she cried. 

“Nothing.” She replied, shoulders slumped over.

“Missing the fun inside. Aren’t you cold, Babe?” His hand stroked her bare shoulder softly. He felt the goosebumps, and the warmth of his hand was welcome.

She shrugged. “I’m fine, H.”

“What’s got a gorgeous girl like you frownin’, hmm?” He knew why. Daisy had told him. The guy she had been dating recently had stood her up, without so much as a text. She’d checked his Instagram story to see he was off somewhere else with some other woman. It wasn’t that serious and after the Christmas party, she had questioned if she was even truly attracted to him. No one made her laugh like Harry, or feel so special. He made anyone feel like they were special.

“Harry?”

“Y/n?” He replied. 

“Be honest, I need a male opinion.” He walked towards her taking off his leather jacket to put on her body, she smiled up at him. Grateful for the warmth, the smell was comforting and suddenly it was years ago. The first time they went to a New Year’s party during University. Deja vu.

“Y/n, how do you wear such tiny clothes in this weather!” Exclaimed Harry. He was rugged up in a big brown wool coat, and a crimson scarf bundled around his neck, his jumper was this old led zeppelin one that Y/n loved on him. His pants were old flared jeans and he had some loafers on. 

Y/n looked up at him, they were on the balcony of an apartment complex. It was a few minutes until the countdown then it would be 2014. “Fashion is pain, Haz. C’mon. I look great don’t I?” She gestured down to her red dress which was a similar shade to his scarf. She had a tiny shawl over her shoulders but other than that she wasn’t prepared for the snowy evening.

“I can’t argue there but you are the biggest baby when you get sick, I can’t have you catching a cold.” He shrugged off his big coat and wrapped her up in it. It smelled of him; mint, cigarettes and a spicy woodsy smell.

“Says the one who I had to spoonfeed!”

“Oh shoosh. Now I need your advice about Mia she’s been eyeing me up all night….” 

“Of course, I owe you, you helped so much with my girl problems in uni.” He seemed to be thinking of that night too.

“Is…” She sighed and looked away from him to stare off at the city lights. The smell of his jacket was just like the wool one, the comforting mood was still there. “Is a girl- a girl being inexperienced…in bed…pathetic?”

He frowned, confused. “No of course not. A lot of people like to wait or don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t care, and that’s okay. It’s not pathetic at all.” Harry had a few drinks that night so he didn’t connect the dots straight away at what Y/n was saying.

“I’ve heard differently.” And she had, her experience with boys was sad.

He frowned before his eyes widened. He was honestly surprised. “Wait, Y/n, is this- is this about you?”

“Please don’t look at me like that, Harry I already feel pathetic enough.” She covered her face with her hands.

He got closer to her. “You are far from pathetic, Lovie.”

“You don’t understand. Anyway, you’ve had loads of sex your Harry Styles for god’s sake!”

“Y/n, define inexperienced,” He sat beside her, knee pressing into hers. 

She winced. “I’ve only ever kissed people, ‘never gone further than that. Never even had a boyfriend, you know that.”

Harry smiled, endearingly. She hadn’t changed, he felt like he was back in first year of university when she was complaining about how no guys asked her out. “So?”

“So the reason my date didn’t show up was because I told him I was a virgin yesterday.” It clicked now, the cold wind must have been sobering him up.

“He’s a total wanker. You are not pathetic by any means because of that. And anyway, virginity is a social construct to control and devalue women!” He said, angry at this guy who he’d never even met. It was like when one of the lads on the rugby team made a bet to get in her pants in their second year of university. 

He’d never been so angry.

“Really?” She said looking up with a frown.

He grabbed her hand giving it a tight squeeze, the metal of his rings cold against her warm hand. 

“Promise! It’s actually attractive in a way—” He was cut off by the door slamming open.

“Hey guys it's one minute till midnight!” Said Penny interrupting their moment, she rushed back inside again to hide from the cold. Motioning for them to join the rest of them inside. 

They could both hear the chanting inside. Neither made a move to go inside.

“10! 9! 8!”

Harry looked at Y/n, and she smiled gently at him leaning close to him. He tucked a strand of her hair back behind her ear.

“What happened to your date anyway?” She asked shifting the topic. 

He shrugged, to be honest, he didn’t know or care. Y/n had been on his mind the whole damn night.  “I think she went home.”

“5! 4! 3!”

“Oh.” She said, looks like they both had no luck this year.

“Can I kiss you?”

That caught her off guard, but she nodded when she heard the cheers for Happy New Year inside, remembering. “For luck, right?”

To be honest he’d forgotten it was New Year’s. When the final count happened he leaned forward and kissed her, it lasted longer than it should have between two friends. But they were too drunk to care.

When they pulled apart fireworks shot off in the sky. They watched in silence still close to each other, warmth radiating. They were in their own little world.

Y/n looked up at him when the fireworks stopped, a special look in her eyes. Mischief and drunkenness. 

“Do you want to come over to mine? I’ve moved since the last time you saw me…”

He smirked, a glint in his eye. “Let’s go.”

When they arrived at Y/n’s new flat Harry paid the cabby wishing him a happy new year. She was still wrapped in his leather coat as she waited for him impatiently on the path. She grabbed his hand to guide the way when the taxi drove away. She was on the third floor.

It was this old London apartment. Beautiful and in a really nice area. 

“You friends with everyone in the building? I wouldn’t be surprised, you are certainly a charmer.” He jested as they sat in the lift on the way up. Harry knew how she had a habit of chatting with everyone. When they lived together she made the entire floor gingerbread and Christmas cards. 

“Oh shut up, you’re the real charmer of us both. Girls scream when they see you walking down the street!” She pulled him inside. Taking off her scarf and boots before turning on one of the lamps. It gave a orange glow to the room.

“You know I don’t mind when girls scream.” He teased.

This made Y/n blush. He noticed and giggled at her pinching her cheek. 

“Oh, leave me alone.” She pouted peeling the coat off.

They took their coats off and hung them on the rack. Y/n showed him around the flat quickly. It was a vast improvement from her old place. Her old place was this shoe box, it was also in a really scary area which always worried Harry when they were friends. He helped her move in before he went on his first tour. She couldn’t afford anywhere as nice as this before. She’d kept a lot of her old stuff. It was certainly her place and if someone brought him here and he had to guess who it belonged to, he’d say her. 

First, he saw the living room. It had this great big red 70s leather couch with knitted rugs on top and a gorgeous original fireplace. He was surprised to see a photograph of the pair of them on the mantle above it. He walked over, they were probably 15 in the photograph. It was beside a few other old ones.

“Look how cute you look, Love.” He lifted it up and pointed at her face.

She groaned. “Are you serious? Look at my hair there! Was not doing me any favours at all.”

He turned to face her his hand finding her hair. “I’ve always loved your hair.”

Y/n kissed his cheek in response, it was more flirty and sloppy than she had intended. He kissed hers back. 

Then there was a moment where they just stared.

Until softly she spoke, “Harry?”

“Yeah, Babe?” 

“D’you wanna have sex with me?”

He was startled, his hand was still in her hair thumb on her jaw. “Do you?”

She flinched stepping away. “Sorry, that was stupid of me. But seriously you’re hot and funny, and I trust you more than any other guy, I mean who could be better for this? I’m drunk and your drunk, we can just say it was a one-night stand and carry on being friends, can’t we? Call it a drunken fling? A favour even.”

“Y/n—”

She was rambling now. “Oh no! You think I’m pathetic, don’t you? Begging you for sex? Jesus, what am I thinking? Look, let’s just blame the tequila and go to sle—”

He leaned forward interrupting her with a kiss to shut her up for a second. She froze momentarily until she decided to kiss him back, his hands slid down her dress as he pulled her closer to him. Her hands found his chest and the kiss began to deepen.

Only when Y/n had started to feel lightheaded did he pull away. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing her warm cheeks. “Are you sure you want this?”

Y/n nodded. “Do you want to? Don’t feel pressured, H.”

“Of course I do. You’ve been my wet dream since we were in high school.” She giggled and flung forward pushing him back onto the couch.

“I am?”

Her hands found their way to his jumper and took it off him and he grunted in some form of agreement. She moved from his lips to his neck kissing down the column of it. Sucking on the adam’s apple gently, he sighed as his hands moved to the tops of her thighs. He was totally content right now.

For the first time in a while he was the calm one and she this was raw hungry energy.

“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” He rasped moving her hips against his thigh, she whimpered at the contact. His jean-covered leg had the perfect amount of friction against her thin underwear. She may have been a virgin but that didn’t mean she hadn’t fantasised a lot about this. If anything that only made it worse.

“I don’t- ah- dunno.” She sighed into his ear.

He felt a throb in his pants. It felt like a dream, a filthy one. One he’d probably had before. The number of nights he’d masturbated to something like this was too many to count. Y/n’s tits were at eye level as she humped on his leg needily and he thought he might just cum right then and there.

Her dress was hiked up to her hips and he could see the flash of pink lace, when he leaned forward to kiss her exposed chest he saw the hint of a red bra. 

She stopped for a second hands moving from his hair to his chest. “Can I touch you, H?”

“‘Course you can. Be good f’me and touch me.” She slid off him, her clit throbbing at his voice. All deep, rough, and dreamy.

On her knees, she placed a hand on either thigh gently rubbing them. Staring at the large bulge in his pants she grew nervous. The dim lighting of the living room meant it was hard for him to see her entire face but he could see her eyes widen at how large he was. 

“You okay there, Lovie?”

She placed her small hand on it, “‘M perfectly fine, Harold.”

His chuckle quickly turned into a choked moan when she palmed him roughly. She looked up at him for approval to keep going. “Yes,” He said, head thrown back on the couch.

She unzipped his jeans revealing black briefs which she’d seen him wander around in when they lived together. He liked to be free of clothes at home. But she had never seen him fully naked before.

She slid her warm hand in there, Harry hissed when she wrapped her hand around his throbbing cock, he felt so sensitive to her touch. 

“You sure you want to do this, Angel?” She could feel how much he wanted her. He was throbbing and heavy in her hand. His body was begging for her but spoke softly with no pressure. 

“Harry, please, I really want to.” She sighed staring up at him, feeling the weight of him heavy on her hand.

This had to be a dream. He thought. She was literally on her knees begging for his cock in her mouth. Big e/c eyes looking up at his face. 

“Needy,” He teased knowing he was probably worse right now. “touch me.”

She didn’t care if she seemed needy the feelings she was having right now were too much, she pulled him out and it sprung up hitting his bare stomach. Her thighs clenched and Harry noticed, smirking.

“Jesus Christ, Harry.” She said in disbelief, hands itching to touch him, “No wonder you always act so cocky,”

He laughed throwing his head back. “You sure you want to keep going?”

“Yes, but can you..” Suddenly she had gotten all shy again, like on the balcony. Embarrassed as if she hadn’t been humping his leg moments ago and whining in his ear for him to make her come.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, baby. Say what’s on your mind.”

“Can you…” She paused again.

“Can I what?”

“Can you show me what to do? Tell me. I mean I want you t’feel good, but I’ll probably be really bad at it. I’ve never done this.”

His hand touched her cheek, thumb stroking her face. “Whatever you do I’m sure I’ll love it, I’ll tell you if I don’t like it. Just try, m’not going to judge. Don’t worry, I’m just your old friend Harry.”

“Just Harry.” She confirmed, easing the anxiety in her stomach a bit.

“Good girl.” He praised gently and she leaned forward kissing the pink tip of cock. He let out a hitched breath. 

“You okay?” She asked.

He looked at her confused. “I didn’t ask if this was okay with you. Do you want this?”

“Y/n it’s more than okay.” He replied breathlessly at the sight. “I’m so fuckin’ horny for you right now.” He laughed lightly as if this was a normal thing to do with an old friend. Like it was just a catch-up. 

That was all the confirmation she needed before spat on the head and began to stroke him with her hand, the natural lubrication making it easier to go fast. She really only knew stuff from porn. Which was always just intense and messy deepthroating. She wondered if Harry wanted her to be like that. But honestly, she wasn’t sure she could take all of him her mouth. He was just so big. 

He was moaning quietly as she kept a steady rhythm. One of his hands was squeezing the couch tightly and the other was holding her free hand that touch his knee. It felt so good. 

When she leaned forward and licked a long strip along the length of him, he groaned running a hand through his messy hair. “So good Y/n,” 

Y/n loved how vocal he was with her, it eased her worries about being bad. It made her wetter than she could imagine.

When she began to actually suck him he went feral. His hands move into her hair holding it from her face, he had to stop himself from moving his hips up and fucking her mouth. He knew he needed to be gentle right now, but it was feeling too good to believe. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/n, you’re too good at that.”

He was moaning every second and every time he let out a particularly pleasured noise Y/n made sure to do it again. Harry opened his eyes and looked down at the sight below him, Y/n’s dainty red-painted hand was stroking the part she couldn’t fit in her mouth and every now and then cupping his balls, her tongue was lapping up every inch of precum that dripped out of him. Kissing his thighs and cock whenever she came up for air. Her red lipstick was smudged and her eyes watering. 

Her legs were clenched together and every time he moaned she got wetter for him, she could feel it dripping down her thigh, she was aching to be touched and honestly, this would be something she would masturbate to later. 

She was steadily jerking and squeezing him just the right and even amount, as she grinned wickedly up at him.

“You sure you’ve never done this?” He said, whimpering when she licked up another drip of precum.

She laughed. Harry had to say she was better than he thought, not because he thought it would be bad. Simply because most people make the mistake of being too rough and using teeth or being too soft and slow. Y/n was perfect and attentive, she’d learnt in mere minutes how to get him absolutely fucked. He could hardly keep his eyes open. 

She began sucking again this time going a bit further, testing her limits. When her nose felt the tickle of hair on his lower navel, she came back up breathing heavily and repeated it a few more times. Harry was moaning even louder now.

“‘M close,” He gestured for her to stop so that he’d finish on his stomach, but she didn’t stop, she went a bit faster. He somehow felt even closer to cumming when she didn’t move, meaning she wanted him to cum in her mouth, just the thought was enough to drive him over the edge. She did a mix of everything she’d been doing and Harry was getting louder and louder each second. It took everything in him not to thrust up and push her head down. 

It was the eye contact that got him to finish. She looked up with absolute adoration in her eyes, enjoying her view of his heaving chest, and he couldn’t help himself.

When Y/n felt the hot spurts of his cum fall down her throat, his hips jutted in pleasure. He hadn’t been able to control it. He cried out, “Y/n, fuck!”

When she finally pulled away cum dribbled down her chin and she quickly swiped it on her thumb, holding eye contact as she sucked it. “Mm.” She said. 

He felt limp and breathless. “C’mere,” He said and grabbed her. Her knees ached but she didn’t care, knowing they’d be bruised tomorrow. He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her, she was surprised by that. She’d heard from friends that a lot of guys really hated to kiss after a blowjob but Harry had not one single care.

“Your fuckin’ perfect, Y/n.” He said flipping them over as he kissed down her chest. “Can I touch you now, please?”

She nodded.

He stopped looking up, “Words, baby,”

“Yes. Of course, you can.” She said. “Get me out of this please,” She gestured to the dress and he obliged happily, throwing it across the room and nipping at her skin. Kissing every stretch mark, scar and mole. God, she was just perfect. 

“You are so beautiful, Y/n. And that mouth,” His thumb touched the bottom lip.

She blushed. “Oh, shoosh.”

“I’ve never cum so hard in my life y’know, I mean it.”

She giggled. “Really?”

“Yes, now accept the compliment and let me help you out.” He almost ordered and she obeyed. 

He sucked on her neck, nipping at it as she hissed, he soothed her by swiping his tongue back over that spot. Her hands were scratching his back as he moved down to her lacey undies. A pink bow stared back at him. 

He touched the waistband fiddling with the bow. “Cute.”

“Thanks, H.” She replied, trying not to shy away. 

“He’s an idiot.” Harry muttered mostly to himself, Y/n frowned confusedly. 

Her hand moved from his back to his hair, gently touching him. “What?”

“That wanker who stood y’up, I mean fuckin’ hell, did you do all this for him? Got all sexy n’ wear these jus’ f’him do that ta’ ya’?” His words were slurring more, he was so drunk on her and tired from his orgasm.

She sighed, “It’s for you,” she whispered. If the flat wasn’t dead silent he might’ve missed it. 

“Say that again.” 

She looked down at him. “I- It’s stupid, Harry, forget it.”

He moved away from her soaking underwear. “No, tell me.”

She shut her eyes, knowing how stubborn he was, and that didn’t change even in the bedroom. “I did it for you. It’s always for you.”

“All this for lil’ ol’ me?” He teased her loving how shy she got even after what she’d just done to him. “Beginnin’ to think you only want to fuck me.” He bit the waistband of her underwear and she couldn’t take it anymore.

He knew that wasn’t true but he loved to see her roll her eyes. 

She whined, “Harry, please.”

“Please what?” He looked up at her. His green eyes were mostly just pupil now. 

She tugged his hair, “I need you to do something, please, just help me,”

“Shh, Love, I know.” He took the underwear off and saw the mess between her legs. Another thing he’d be jerking off to later, her inner thighs were soaked and she was dripping. His middle finger slid up the lips collecting the messy slick. 

“For me?”

She sighed, with a shiver. “Only you.”

He began to rub her clit at that comment, feeling her throb against him. She was whimpering and moaning softly and it was just how he imagined but even better. Her hands tugged his brown locks and he moved a hand to her mouth. Holding up two fingers, ring and middle, against her lips. 

“Suck please.” He said softly. He didn’t think they’d need it considering there was a damp spot underneath her already, he just liked to watch her do it. 

When they were wet enough he pulled them back out and slid one inside her dripping hole. She cried out, 

“Shit.”

He pumped slowly, letting her grow used to the sting. “Yours are so much bigger than mine.” She whined desperately. 

He began to pick up the pace when her hips moved against his hand and slowly added the second finger when he felt she was ready. When she began to squirm from the pleasure he used his other hand to hold her hips flat and he kissed her stomach every now and then.

Offering words of encouragement. “Yes, that’s it, you can take it.”

When she began to grow closer he could tell by the way she clenched around his fingers. 

She whimpered when he gave a rough circle on her clit. “Fuck me Harry, feels so good.”

He started to go deeper and harder, feeling her drip onto him. “So perfect like this. Takin' m' fingers.” 

He was taking mental pictures so he would never forget her face. All fucked out and filled with pleasure. When he curled his fingers inside her, grazing that spongey spot that made her scream and curl her toes, she moved a hand to his wrist not stopping him just in a warning.

“M’ close, H.”

He smirked. “Cum for me, Baby.” His other hand found her clit and sped up the process. It was seconds later that she felt it come on, a wave washing over her entire body. 

“Fuck! I’m coming!” She cried body twitching and squirming wildly as he helped her through it. 

“Harry!” She screamed, and he felt her squirt all over his hand as she finished. 

Once he finished helping her ride it out he stopped, slowly pulling his hand away and looking up at her. Her eyes were shut and she looked completely ruined. He was happy with that, it meant he’d done his job.

“You okay?”

She opened her eyes. “I didn’t know I could ever feel that good.” She said seriously and he smiled. 

“Was m’pleasure, Love.”

When she sat up, she noticed how wet his hand was and the dampness beneath before her eyes widened in embarrassment. “Oh, I’m sorry that’s embarrassing I didn’t mean to—”

“Embarrassing? Please Y/n I nearly came my pants. You’re so fucking hot. Look at you. Delicious.” 

She kissed him pulling him close too shy to say anything more.

“Do you want to stay the night?” She asked when she pulled away. He nodded and they, still kind of drunk, made their way to her bed stripping off the rest of their clothes and flopping into bed. 

He grabbed her and pulled her into his chest. “Happy New Year, Babe.”

“Happy New year.”

The following morning Y/n woke up alone in her bed. Her head thumped angrily punishing her for last night. She began to wonder if it was all a drunken fever dream but when she got up to wash her face she saw the hickey he’d left her on her neck, and she saw that the bathroom was slightly damp, meaning he’d had a shower before leaving. 

She tried not to feel hurt at him leaving without a goodbye but she did remember saying last night that it would be just a one-time thing as friends. She didn’t know what she expected really. She had a quick shower washing the night off, she was sticky and smelt of sex. 

When she got out she wandered into her kitchen in just a towel sluggishly, bent over to see the contents of her fridge all she had was off milk and a leftover Chinese takeaway container. She was hungry. She sighed, knowing she’d have to go out and buy food. When she turned she jumped letting out a small shout. 

Harry was sitting at the table with some coffee and pastries, he’d scared the shit out of her.

“Jesus! How long were you there?”

“The whole time, waited for you to notice me. I got us some food and coffee, didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

She suddenly felt subconscious in just this small towel, in the daylight. Her eye bags were probably heavy and she doubted she looked pretty. He noticed her squirm.

“I hope you don’t mind that I used your shower.”

She shook her head memories flooding back from last night. She felt embarrassed. “‘Course not.”

“I’m gonna change I’ll be right back.” Before he could say anything else she’d left. 

When she came back in a knitted jumper and some red boxer shorts she’d bought for sleep, he smiled up at her. “I got your favourite, well, I hope it’s still your favourite anyway.”

He’d even gone to the effort to put it on a little china plate. It was a custard danish pastry. She smiled butterflies flooding her tummy, she placed her hand there without noticing before she turned to him. 

“You didn’t have to do all this, H. I know that it was just a drunken thing we did. You don’t have to be so nice to me. I understand how these things go.”

She remembered the times she’d have to pretend Harry was out when all he’d done is hide in her room until the girls from the night before left their flat. 

He looked up, slightly hurt by that. Did she really think that of him? “You’re my oldest friend, I wouldn’t do that.”

She frowned before sitting beside him and grabbing the coffee he’d brought. “Things won’t change, right? We are still Y/n and Harry, aren’t we?”

He placed a hand on her thigh. “Of course, always, bun.”

She smiled up at him taking a bite of her pastry, some custard falling down her chin. Harry got a flash of last night of her moaning his name and he wondered if what he said was true. Would he be able to move on from this?

if you enjoyed this feel free to check out my masterlist here! xxx feel free to request me!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n #nostringsattachedseriesbylilystyles

[vagabond-umlaut]

it's easy to ferry souls, not carry them

deep down in the realm of the netherworlds, there exists a rower who transports deceased souls from the land of living to the land of dead-

and occasionally lends an ear and a hand, in the event of yet another collision between their weary queen and her just as cheery suitor...

[uraume deserves a raise.]

▸gojo satoru x fem!reader; the tale of kore!gojo & hades!reader w a guest appearance by charon!uraume; uraume is a very nice parental figure to you [ooc!uraume but ehh]; the reader is honestly so sweet and hot-tempered...; the cutest doggy cerberus too is there!!!!; gojo satoru must be his own warning...; uraume does not like gojo [no parent [blood-related or not] actually wld]; fire hazards; 2k wc

▸ i've nvr read percy jackson and wtv i wrote here is based on my shaky knowledge of greek myths and stuff 😁😁 anyways, this header's from pinterest, these dividers are by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls do not plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ belongs to series 'wreaths of asphodel' – same universe as the work 'hey, where is the pomegranate tree?' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

"why is kore so set on marrying me, uraume?"

it isn't the ask itself which causes the rower to nearly lose grip of their oar– but the way it is spoken: soft, solemn and faintly tense. they look away from the endless expanse of the styx before, to find you staring at your reflection in the inky waters, features unnaturally crumpled.

uraume holds back a frown. "has her majesty considered asking the god the same?"

"i have asked him," you mumble, "but i did not receive any conclusive answer in return. the imp was being too vague– must be a trait learnt from those shifty nymphs always sticking to his side."

if your faithful follower detects anything except dislike in your words, they make no mention of it. merely humming as they continue to row the boat, "and may this servant know the question her majesty asked the god?"

"two," you mumble even more clumsily now; they take a beat to grasp it, too concerned by the way you drape yourself over the edge, nearly falling into the water as you say, "i asked him two questions— one, if he loves me; two, if he wants to have children should we get married."

shock must not be uraume's first reaction to these queries, yet it is— and for a moment, it isn't you sitting there anymore.

instead, it is a little girl, no older than seven or eight years, cherubic face fixed in a look of deep concentration and fascination while the rower narrates to her stories from times millennia ago–

only for the child to morph into a young lady– no, goddess– the very next beat... slouched under a regal cloak too heavy for her shoulders, under a royal crown too large for her head... that sweet innocence of childhood nothing but traces now, having been withered by the foul, dirty politics of those damned deities high up on that mountain—

"what answers did the olympian offer her majesty?"

"he said he would love me and sire my children if that is what i want— i asked if he wished anything out of our union— he said all he wanted is to be my husband–"

something between a frustrated sigh and an exhausted scoff erupts from you, becoming an opaque fog the moment it hits the frigid air of the underworld. uraume plucks the oar out the water to come sit next to you, letting the boat be driven by magic.

"you're worried," they state, forgoing all formalities in favour of giving you some much-needed comfort. you never much cared for stations anyways, quite unlike your elder brother, the former king.

"an unfamiliar friend poses more risk than a familiar enemy, uraume," you mutter, resting your head on their shoulder, "why do you think kore wishes to marry me so much, if not out of love or the prospect of the powerful offsprings we might beget?"

"marriage is not solely for love or for procreation," the rower starts to explain, mildly amused before it grows into sympathy at your baffled expression.

ah, they muse fondly, not unlike a parent watching their child witness the world seemingly the first time ever since they learnt to walk, you who presides over something as profound as death yet knows not of the trivialities of life...

"it can also be for many other reasons like–"

the remainder of the words skitter away from uraume— cerberus is playing with gojo.

the fierce guard of the netherworlds, the three-headed hound, loyal and dutiful to a fault: hades' dearest canine companion is frolicking with the god of life in a green meadow, that most certainly was not there so close to the stygian marsh, when they last—

"gojo is laughing," your remark draws them away from their musings, only to find a changed shadow over your countenance— pensive yet not thinking at all; almost as if you too are floating in the stale air of your kingdom akin the soft flower petals...

another ring of raucous laughter pierces the silence, mingled with a delighted series of barks— cerberus is busy licking gojo's face now, the olympian reduced to a puddle of giggles as he scratches behind the dog's ears.

his happiness so clear in the stretch of his grin and the crinkle of his eyes, very much the jarring contrast to the last time—

oh. oh, oh, oh–

"escape," the word leaves uraume in a sudden moment of realisation, as quiet as a breath but loud enough for you to whip your head back to face them, confusion engraved into your scowl. "escape?? what is that supposed to mean, eh?"

the rower feels their lips lift into an infrequent smile. "the god of life wishes to marry you to escape— from his mother, or from his many suitors, or perhaps from mount olympus itself."

"wha– how– hah," you breathe out a disbelieving little huff, "that is simply ridiculous. have you even heard yourself? that is ridiculous."

used to such resistance from yourself, even more from your brother, they move to state their points, only to beaten by you as you persist to speak.

"no one in their right mind will decide to come live in the underworld, no matter how overbearing their mother or insistent their suitors are. have you seen this place? it's too, too unlike the lushness of the earth or the grandeur of the heavens he has experienced. and–" you add, a harsh laugh accompanying it. "gojo satoru is a god. a fish might leave the water— but a god never steps a voluntary foot down that horrible mountain. never."

"but the olympian never truly lived on mount olympus," uraume says once they're sure you've completed your tirade, "and you are a goddess as well. why do you speak so ill of the heavens then?"

"why?" you echo the word. they nod, hoping you take the bait they've intended for you. you do.

"why, because that place is nothing but a shining apple with a rotten core!! everything is polished marble and glittering gold there. people constantly wave at each other, lavishing smiles and praises like there is no tomorrow. everything is so warm and bright— what a bunch of lies and liars!"

familiar fire burns in your aura, the immense heat making the waters erupt into boiling— uraume uses their powers to cool the river down, lest anything disturbs you.

you're too far gone in your rage to be shaken, however, continuing:

"but it never can hide the grime and dirt accrued beneath such shine and sheen. nor the vicious minds and crooked hearts of those deities up above– what lame excuses of gods and goddesses, hah. and you might think me to prefer the light and warmth up there— you will be sorely wrong, my dear uraume!! i much prefer the genuine darkness and frigidity of my beloved kingdom to the faux comfort of the awful mount olympus—"

"is there no possibility the god of life too despises mount olympus for these same reasons, milady?"

you open your mouth and close it, then open it again to let out a very aggrieved whine– momentarily transporting uraume to your younger days. the rower merely chuckles when you punch their arm lightly.

"you're the worst, uraume," you cry, getting up and moving to sit on the other end of the boat. the rower too rises but only to resume rowing the boat by the oar.

"you never spoke this way when sukuna was the ruler— only because his baby sister is the ruler now, and you think she is very stupid—"

"as much as i respect and revere lord sukuna, he wasn't one to listen to anyone else," uraume interrupts gently, "you do, though– which is why i spent so much time telling you this. i hope you did not mind."

"hey, no," you immediately wave away their concern with a wide grin, eliciting a smaller one from the latter, "i could never..."

another peal of laughter and barks rings through the otherwise-quiet. you abruptly trail off, the same conflicting expression from before on your face yet again. though not without a spark in your eyes, uraume notes, almost as if you're slowly learning how to solve the puzzle who is repeatedly offering himself to you.

uraume keeps the silence you initiate, choosing to row the boat while you keep staring at the assortment of hues near the stygian marsh...

until you call their name and declare, an odd firmness in your smile, "well then, it is decided. i shall allow gojo to stay here for as long as the god so wishes to, escaping whatever or whoever he is escaping. and i shall protect him from the latter, should it ever come for him."

a beat. your smile falls into something graver. "would it be better if i swore by the dread water of styx, uraume?"

"uh, um," the rower finds themselves at a loss of words, the first time in seemingly forever, and they have been around since titanomachy– but before they can recover themselves enough to formulate a proper reply, a giggly voice joins in—

"well, if my rose does that, i would consider myself the most blessed amongst all mortals and immortals!"

— and the waters surrounding the boat shoot upwards in a scathing geyser-like jet and steam— the ferocious queen of the netherworlds visibly torn between remorse and terror, as they offer uraume a stiff nod and gojo a horrified look, before vanishing in a wisp of fog.

the boiling waters of the river styx calm down only after a twenty-minute-long struggle by uraume, joined at the very end by gojo.

the latter looks positively delighted, when the former collapses to the bottom of the boat, exhausted beyond belief. "hey, charon. was that a result of your queen getting flustered by me, huh?"

yes, it was. it very much was, the sentences nearly slip past the tired rower's crumbling defences... until it hits them– who they serve, and who they don't.

uraume decides to throw back a glare and a lie. "her majesty was not flustered, lord kore. she was enraged at how you invaded the privacy of her weekly boat ride, intended to make her relax."

"oh, puh-lease," the god makes a face. the rower is certain he would have been punished in the pits of tartarus for all eternity, then some more were he to pursue you this way during your brother's reign, let alone disrespect you thus.

ignorant and insolent, he continues, "in few days time, i'll be allowed into the privacy of her living quarters; what is the privacy of her boat th—"

"you're lucky you did not make such outrageous remarks in front of the queen," uraume cuts him off, none too kindly nor gently, "if you did, her majesty would have certainly burnt you along with the boat to a crisp–"

"i know," comes the defeated reply within the instant. and while gojo is still not in uraume's good graces, the latter decides to notch him a level higher, considering the god of life accepts their queen's powers.

not many do.

he strikes a pathetically pitiful figure, uraume reckons, seeing him sit then slouch on the bench. "was she serious when she said she would protect me?"

your loyal subject nods, certain and solemn. "yes, she was. the queen is never careless when it comes to making promises."

"oh, that's reassuring," gojo says quietly— only to recline even further in the very next beat– an anguished, grating wail tearing from him to the stifling silence looming near the stygian marsh. uraume wonders if it is worth it to steer the boat towards acheron... then push him into its waters of woe...

they decide against it on catching the desperation worn by the god.

for all it is, it might nothing more than a ploy. yet something tugs at their mind to pause and listen when gojo howls, "why does my rose always scurry away after tilting my world on its axis? why does your queen always torment me like this, charon?"

uraume stares pensively at their face in the sacred waters of styx for a while. then heaves a mighty sigh.

certain, this exchange between the goddess of the dead and the god of life will impact not only your and gojo's respective worlds— but the general world and everyone else in it, as well.

did you know, in the actual greek myths, persephone was never called so before her marriage to hades? she got it only after, w the name meaning "bringer of death". her initial name was kore, referring to her being a maiden & the spring goddess.

the river styx was called the "dread river of oath" by homer– in both the iliad and the odyssey [greek epic poems], swearing by its waters is the "greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods" -> this shows how serious the reader is towards ensuring gojo's safety and freedom, and how deeply this affects gojo as well [source: wiki 😇]

also: the reader is totally ready to jump into the water to swim away when she realises gojo was listening in on her conversations- but then she remembers she can js vanish away and so she does js tht— the queen of the underworld, and of escaping, hehe

also also: the reader is slightly jealous when she is talking of the shifty nymphs always sticking to gojo's side. [uraume identifies it; you think it is js your usual dislike to such frivolous things and ppl as flowers and nymphs etc.] [hades is emo imho 😊]

▸ masterlist

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #kit posts 📝

[yunjardi]

my heart bel♡ngs to daddy [series]

[young sugar daddy jake x fem.reader au]

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click here for this series's masterlist to read previous chapters, general warnings, and playlist

[‼️chapter warnings‼️: smut [mdni], angst, DADDY KINK, angst, crying, unprotected sex, jake being a bit pervy, car sex, oral, fingering, riding, cockwarming, mentions of food/eating, pls lmk if i missed anything!]

*sorry for any grammar errors

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chapter 9: the healing process

"since when was it october?" you asked yeji as you fiddled with your black bunny ear headband that became a part of your work uniform that "updated" itself into a black skin-tight mini dress instead of the regular low-cut shirt. since halloween was just around the corner, they wanted every woman employee in a slutty halloween costume to 'attract customers.' "since a week and a half ago, y/n. jake really is warping your sense of reality, isn't he?" yeji joked as she pulled on a strand of your hair, causing you to swat her hand away in playful yet mildly annoyed manner. "okay fine," you sighed in defeat, "i'll admit that he's been distracting the fuck out of me lately, especially since we had our first argument not long ago. i mean, we kinda made up but it's still fresh in my mind." yeji tapped her nails on the marble counter of the bar with an evil smile on her face.

"you know, if he was really fazed by you being with any other guy but him to the point where you two literally had some kind of argument, maybe you should A. just become a couple or B. ditch his ass for being too protective over you. but i say you go with A," yeji remarked as she tossed a dishrag into the basket of dozens of other dish towels that were waiting to be put in the washing machine. "ugh," you groaned, "you see, it's not as easy as it seems." yeji raised an eyebrow at your response. "how so? he's clearly in love with you and we all know you also love-"

"hush!" you snapped, "don't say the 'L' word, yeji! that's not a thing! especially not with jake and i! he's just doing his job as a sugar daddy while i hold up the other end of the bargain. you know how that stuff works." she sighed sarcastically and tapped her nails on counter again. "denial," yeji said in a singsong tone, "someone's being moody again today."

yeji always noticed how moody and snappy you became when she brought up how you and jake should make things official, but she noticed changes in your mood in general lately. she figured it was just the nerves getting to you about your whole situation with

"okay, i'm sorry." you sighed again, "i didn't mean to snap at you. i just haven't been able to think clearly since jake and i fought. it's supposed to be a good thing that we have a bit of a wedge in between us because i don't wanna get too attached, but why do i feel so bad? like i said, i think we already kinda made up and everything. i literally haven't seen him since then, but it feels like it's still haunting my mind and it hurts so bad."

yeji played with strands of your hair as you rambled. "you told me not to say it," yeji said sarcastically. you groaned and rolled your eyes.

"ugh, and i shouldn't even be thinking of him right now! we have fall exams coming soon and i cannot let jake distract me," you realized in the midst of your blabbering. yeji groaned at your mention of exams as she let go of the strands of your hair.

just then, the bells that were attached to the top hinge of the door jingled, signifying that someone just walked in. "oh," yeji said as she looked over at the door, "speak of the devil; your little 'distraction' is here." before you could turn your around, you were already met with the sensation of being hugged from behind.

"y/n... i've missed you so much," jake said softly as he cozied his cheek on your bare shoulder, his cold skin from the weather outside sending shivers down your body. "i still feel really bad about how i treated you that night," he admitted glumly, "can i make it up to you?" he placed a kiss on your cheek as a shy smile formed on your face. though you didn't exactly know what he entailed when he said he wanted to 'make it up to you,' you, as much as you desperately wanted to deny it, really wanted to spend time with him.

you couldn't help but notice the customers looking at you and jake's close interaction, thankfully most of their eyes being fixated on jake's face rather than yours; they looked at him in a way that you'd look at a familiar face. did some customers know him or something? maybe that's just how rich people are; scoping out "competition."

either way, the two of you seemed like a fake couple who looked married from the perspective of the general public, which made you feel all sorts of mixed emotions that you couldn't even begin to understand. seeing him and feeling his touch for the first time in what felt like ages only made you more confused about your feelings. you couldn't lie; you still felt a sting in your heart when you looked at him because of what happened between the two of you but at the same time, you still felt glad that he took time out of his day to see you.

"my puppy. so sweet as usual," you couldn't help but gush unintentionally as you snaked your arm around him to play with his hair, "but i'm working right now, jake. my break is soon, so i promise i'll spend time with you then." you felt his face turn pouty against your shoulder when you told him that you had to work. heck, he literally came to visit you at your job.

"i'll sit here and wait for you to be done," jake said with a smile as he sat on a barstool, sitting and waiting there the way a puppy would wait for its owner. you let out a satisfied sigh as you subconsciously smiled, yeji elbowing you with a cheeky grin on her face, making you shoot her a wide-eyed look that screamed 'hush!' and then continued work as usual as if jake wasn't sitting off to the side waiting for your break to come.

customers came and went, ordering simple menu items like rounds of soju shots, spirits, and various wines, but jake always seemed to have his eyes glued to you when you fake-flirted with customers in order to seduce them into giving you tips; it made his jealously perk up again though he didn't want to admit it.

you may have a sugar daddy, but you still couldn't put away your pride and just let him handle all the things in your life that involved money. you wanted to prove to yourself that you weren't completely reliant on him; that you only wanted him for the material things that he gave you and not because you were desperate for money or the attention of a man. if anything, you didn't even have to work or go to school at all anymore with all the money he gives you for simply existing and spending time with him. but still, you held onto your bartending job just in case things fell apart, which they nearly did a few days ago.

jake's eyes were fixated on you whenever you used the boston shaker to make a customer their drink. he watched the way your hands would grip the shaker and move it up and down, shamelessly getting riled up by your seemingly innocent actions. your skimpy outfit wasn't helping the 'situation' in his pants either. it made him feel like he should watch you work more often.

after what felt like ages, you were finally able to take an hour long break from working, and you decided to rest in jake's car with him since it had nice, comfy seats that you could recline. when you mentioned to him that you just wanted to spend time with him in his car, he, again, got a little riled up.

you two exited the front doors, jake putting his arms around you to try and keep you warm before you arrived to his car, and it didn't take you long realize that jake was leading you to a car that looked unfamiliar to you.

"new car?" you questioned as you looked up at jake. "not a new one, just my other car," he said nonchalantly as he opened the car door for you, letting you sit down on the seat that you were not yet familiar with considering that you'd never been inside this car before.

'rich people,' you thought to yourself as you internally rolled your eyes.

but still, you reclined the seat as far back as it could possibly go before laying your head down on the headrest of the seat after placing your bunny ear headband on the dashboard, closing your eyes and trying your best to shield your face from the sunlight that lightly beamed on you from the windows.

"is it too bright, princess?" jake asked as he shielded your face from the sun with his big hand, "the windows in this car aren't as tinted as the ones in my other car."

you nodded, admitting that you thought it was too bright, but you told him that you'd be okay as long as your face was covered. at that, he reached over to the side of the seat, pulling out a foldable windshield cover to block the sun, making sure you were fully shaded from the bright beams.

you let out a content hum in response and as you finally closed your eyes to rest, you couldn't help but have underlying thoughts of doing 'things' with him in the car. you wanted him at the most inconvenient times. you were trying to sleep for fuck's sake, but your stomach was beginning to heat up; the pit in your stomach only grew bigger when you realized that you and jake haven't fucked since the day of your argument. you needed to feel him, and you couldn't bear even a second more of not having him inside you.

"jake?" you asked as you looked over at him, him face toward you immediately and giving you all of his attention. "hm? what's wrong, princess?" he responded, reaching over to you and putting his hand on your thigh. his touch only made you even more nervous to ask him if you guys could move to the backseat.

"can we maybe..." you said softly as you looked behind you. jake chuckled at your shyness as he began to gently run his hand up and down your thigh. he could tell by your needy eyes that your request to move to the backseat was not one of innocence.

"move to the backseat? why is that, princess?" jake instigated teasingly although he already knew exactly what you wanted. you pouted as you let your head fall onto the seat's headrest again, your cheek cutely squished against the surface which made jake giggle and place a kiss on your forehead.

the two of you quickly climbed into the backseat and comfortably situated yourselves before ending up all over each other in a matter of seconds. you fiddled with the buttons on his silk shirt before eventually beginning to unbutton it from top to bottom. jake locked his lips with yours, smiling into the kiss as you continued needily unbuttoning his shirt until his toned abs were on display for your viewing pleasure.

getting on the floor between his legs, you teasingly ran your hands down his torso until you got to the waistband of his trousers. flashing your needy eyes at him once again, he gave you a look of approval, biting down on his plump bottom lip before you pulled his pants and boxers down in one go. you moaned quietly at the sight of his hard cock on display for you, spitting on his member before beginning to stroke it.

"shit," jake cursed lowly as you gently kissed up his shaft, slowly stroking him at the same time. eventually, you started to suck on as much of his length that you could fit in your mouth, jake groaning and biting his lip as you pleased him. you pumped the half of his member that didn't fit in your mouth as jake whimpered and gripped onto the edge of the seat so hard that his knuckles began to turn white. watching jake's legs tremble from overstimulation as he moaned out for you was such a cute sight in your eyes.

you swirled your tongue around his tip and began to suck on it, which made jake go absolutely insane, his chest rising and falling slowly as he tangled his fingers in your hair.

"wait," jake panted, "i don't wanna cum yet; i wanna cum inside you." his comment made the fire in your stomach grow, your panties clinging to your entrance as you got more and more wet.

you two switched places, jake now being in between your legs and sliding your panties down eagerly as you played with his hair. immediately after placing your panties off to the side, jake pushed the skirt part your dress up to your waist and began to work wonders with his lips and tongue against your entrance, making you moan out loud for him. he sucked on your clit while skillfully pumping his fingers in and out of you, groaning against your sensitive entrance.

"jakey," you moaned quietly, "n-need more." he swirled his tongue on your clit one more time before looking up at you from in between your legs and reaching over to recline the seat you were in.

he got off the floor of the car and positioned himself in front of you, already beginning to tease your needy pussy with his tip.

"please?" you begged with glossy eyes. "have i ever said no to you, my princess?" jake asked as he inched himself inside you, causing you to gasp out and let out a quiet mewl.

you held onto his shoulders as you felt the slight burn of his girth stretching you out when his tip passed your entrance. it hadn't been that long since the last time you had sex with jake, but it'd been long enough to where you'd have to get used to his size for a little bit before letting him go all the way in.

he hissed at the way your walls were already starting to pulse around him as you let out a moan, his tip resting right in the spot you wanted him the most. he groaned and bit his plump bottom lip as he began to gently thrust in and out of you, the two of you moaning in sync as the rhythm of his hips became more steady. your eyes were fixated on his handsome face as he pounded into your sensitive entrance which began to grow sore.

"aw, my princess can't stop looking at me," he cooed before trailing kisses along your neck, "you love looking at daddy while he's making your pussy feel good, huh?" you nodded, eyes teary from the immense amount of pleasure that he was giving you.

"m-mhm," you managed to respond, "so handsome. w-wanna ride you." you stuttered out, making jake smirk and swiftly change his and your position so you could comfortably sit on top of him. the feeling of sinking down onto his thick cock made you let out a lustful moan as you fully settled down into his lap, taking as much of him as you possibly could in the position you were in. "daddy makes me feel so good."

"mhm, princess. i'm so deep inside you," jake groaned lowly, kneading your ass as you began to roll your hips against his, the two of you moaning and close to orgasming.

"i wanna cum s-so bad, jakey," you mewled out while bouncing softly on his rock hard cock, wanting so badly to feel him deeper despite being slightly overstimulated.

"let loose, my princess. i've missed having your cum all over my cock."

and at that, you let your arousal run down his length, moaning his name all throughout your orgasm whilst his cum spurted inside you and filled you up.

staying on his lap for awhile to relax, you looked jake in his pretty brown eyes. you two finally felt like you officially made up after car sex of all things, which was pretty on-brand considering your relationship with him. jake drew a little heart on the fogged up window, giggling afterward as he looked into your pretty eyes.

you never knew that fucking and unintentionally making up in the process felt so damn good until jake introduced you to that concept.

"let's put all this petty shit behind us, y/n," you heard jake's soft voice in your ear, "being without you is... really weird, honestly, you know, because we spend a lot of time together, like jeez, you were all i was thinking about before i came to see you." jake admitted as he chuckled.

you nodded your head though you tried desperately to not let him know that you shared the same emotions.

"no more fighting," you agreed with a light laugh, "after all, how could daddy be mad at his princess?"

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you don't remember going home from work last night, but all you knew right now was that you have a good 30 minutes to get ready to catch the underground train to get to school.

springing out of bed, you quickly threw some clothes on, washed your face and brushed your teeth, threw your school stuff into your backpack, and sped over to the kitchen counter to put some fish flakes and a vacation feeder in perry's tank for good measure. but before busting out of your front door, you remembered something important: you needed to give jeongin his suit jacket back.

with the thought of all the trouble it caused between you and jake, you picked it up, opened your front door, locked it behind you, and began to make your way toward the underground train station.

surprisingly, you made it to the lecture hall with quite a bit of time to spare, so you scoped out a nice and quiet spot for you, yeji, and jeongin to sit for the duration of the day's lecture. you hung jeongin's suit jacket on the chair next to you to save one of the seats next to you for him.

now that you knew for sure what you and him had was platonic, you were no longer antsy to see him whenever you had class together; it was a colossal relief and weight off your shoulders to know that he was simply a close friend.

just then, you were snapped out of your thoughts by someone plopping into one of the chairs next to you. it was jeongin.

"hey, y/n!" jeongin smiled warmly, "it's been forever since we've seen each other! how've you been since the ball?" you smiled back at him. "ummm, just a bit stressed over school as usual," you responded, slightly guilty about the white lie since you knew that he was genuinely curious about how you were feeling, "oh yeah! your suit jacket is hanging on the chair if you didn't notice. thank you for giving it to me that night. it was super sweet of you."

he turned around and looked at his suit jacket that he hadn't seen in a little while and smiled before grabbing a notebook and some pens out of his backpack, getting ready for class to start.

"is yeji coming today?" jeongin asked as he ran his fingers through his hair with a chuckle. you checked the time on the clock then looked over to the door. "she's probably just running late as per usual," you chuckled back just as she bursted into the lecture hall.

"i'm here! i made it, guys!" yeji cheered as she pranced over to where you and jeongin were sat. "congratz on making it here before the lecture started, yej," jeongin said sarcastically, making yeji roll her eyes.

"at least i showed up today," she huffed as she plopped into her chair just in time for the beginning of class.

the boring professor started his lecture with a speech about how everyone now has to work harder than ever at this homestretch before graduation and blah, blah, blah.

in the middle of his speech, yeji leaned in closer to you to tell you something.

"psst, you know there's gonna be a halloween party at the choi frat house the day before actual halloween, right? we have to go!" she whisper-yelled, "this might be one of our last frat parties ever, and it's gonna be super fun!" you let out a quiet sigh as you looked over to the side of the room where one of the choi frat house members, yeonjun, sat.

"yeji, you know we have to prepare for finals, right?" you said with a raised eyebrow.

yeji grabbed your arm and shook it gently. "oh come on," she whined, "it's one party. i promise it won't literally make you fail all your exams." she said with sarcasm.

"y/n, the two of us are going to that halloween party at the choi frat house next weekend. it'll be so fun, and there's gonna be loads of cute guys there," yeji said with a grin on her face as she held both of your hands, "plus, i already planned our costume; the classic angel and devil. better be ready at 8PM sharp so that we can enjoy the whole party, you know, if you decide to stay long enough to possibly get some action from a guy who'll try to convince you to wipe your memory of jake for just one night before you freak out and remember how much you 'L-word' him and realize that you don't want anyone else touching you but him."

you nervous smile before slowly nodding in agreement, but not before you smacked her on her arm because of her slick and snarky little comment.

"okay, fine," you sighed, giving in to her proposal, "but only because i know you won't stop pestering me until i agree." a cheeky grin formed on her face as she shook with excitement in her seat.

'a halloween party? really?' you thought to yourself as you plunked your head into your hand, rubbing your forehead as you realized what you'd just agreed to.

your halloween party conversation ended just in time because now the professor was finally going to begin talking about things that pertain to the class.

"all of that talk about graduation being said, i am now going to present to you all part one of your final project assignment for my class," your professor announced as he switched the slide on the screen and began to explain the assignment, "this project is a partner activity and will be a showcase of what we've learned the entire year. i'll give you all the privilege to pick your partners; choose wisely and begin working before your first progress check rolls around. i recommend that you review this semester's and last semester's material independently before jumping into the group work."

you, yeji, and jeongin immediately exchanged looks, which solidified the fact that you all would be partners for this stupid project for this stupid class.

"well, i guess we better start looking over the stuff from this class before jumping into the group work," jeongin shrugged, mocking the professor as you and yeji snickered.

just then, your phone buzzed, startling you. you reached into your pocket to pull out your phone to see texts from jake.

your heart fluttered at the thought of being absolutely spoiled rotten by jake. so naturally, you texted him back, agreeing to go out after class.

you couldn't help but get nervous about your bold text as you awaited his reply.

your stomach flipped at jake reciprocating the flirty-ness that your threw out, making you even more excited to see him as much as you hated to admit it. after all, you agreed not long ago to go to a party where there will be "loads of cute guys" to try to forget about him for just one second, so why would you even be excited to see him at all if you were trying so hard to not like him.

'how fun,' you thought to yourself as you put your phone back in your pocket, 'more conflicting feelings.'

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after waving goodbye at yeji and jeongin once class ended, you sighed as you walked out of the lecture hall, stressed with the weight of a group project that rested on your shoulders. although you were working with your two best friends, it didn't fully change the fact that you hated group work.

still, you tried to shake it off as you looked around for jake and found him sitting on one of the benches outside, looking as handsome as ever, of course.

you waved from the other side of the street to steal his attention away from his phone where he was most likely watching dog videos. seeing something abruptly move from side to side, he looked up to see you smiling a bit shyly at him as you waved your arm in the air. jake immediately hopped off the bench, looking left and right before crossing the street, which you found cute for some reason. once he was close enough to reach out for you, he instantly pulled you into a tight hug. after letting go of you, he looked into your eyes and cocked his head.

"you look so stressed, my princess. what's wrong?" he frowned as he put his arms around your waist before placing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"oh, it's just school stuff, that's all," you replied, trying your best not to let out a stress ridden sigh, "i have to review old material for a group project that i need to start working on asap."

he felt as if there were other things weighing you down, but he took your word and just nodded his head.

jake trailed one of his hands up to your back and rubbed gentle circles around it, showing you that he understood the stress you were under. the pda you two were displaying felt amplified for some reason, making you become more shy with every circle jake rubbed on your back.

"here," jake said as he tilted your chin up to look at him, "we can go to a nice cafe, and i can help you study. does that sound good, princess? we can go out and shop some other time." his proposal made you smile and nod your head eagerly as he began to lead you to his car.

he drove to a cute little cafe and looked over at you in a way that he was waiting for your "approval" of the place. you smiled at him and then peered out the windshield, admiring the cute and neatly groomed plants that surrounded the small building. jake opened the car door for you then took your hand to lead you inside.

the door jingled when jake opened it, a barista giving you two a warm smile upon your entry.

"go ahead and sit down. i'll go and order for us," he smiled as you sat down and began to take your notebooks out to study. you felt a sense of calmness now that you were in the peaceful and beautifully decorated cafe.

soon, jake came back with two cups of tea and a small variety of pastries for the two of you to snack on for the duration of your visit. you smiled as you took a bite of one of the soft pastries, later washing it down with some tea.

"let me help you study, princess," jake smiled as he picked up a highlighter and a pen, "tell me what you need help with, and i'll get right to it."

you went on to explain the basics of the material whilst jake listened intently, occasionally glancing at your face while you talked; your beauty causing a distraction for him.

"sorry that my explanation was a bit rocky; i'm not very good at articulating stuff," you admitted sheepishly as jake quickly gathered himself to look as if he wasn't staring at you.

"no, no, it was fine, princess. don't be so hard on yourself," he reassured you with a chuckle stroking your hair as he began to highlight some of your notes, still trying to play things off. which he, of course, succeeded at because you remained mildly stressed, causing you to be less attentive than usual. "you'll be able to go home and rest in no time," jake smiled whilst you also began to make notes on the material that you just explained to him.

you'd be lying if you said that you weren't feeling comforted by him, but there was also some underlying uneasiness at the thoughts of what he said to you that night.

'just forget about it, y/n,' you scolded yourself mentally, 'you already "made up" with him, so just fucking focus on what's important.'

"zoning out?" jake asked with a sheepish laugh as you snapped yourself out of your thoughts, nodding in honest agreement. "yeah a little," you responded with a weak smile.

"let me take you home then."

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jake finally pulled up to your house after what felt like forever considering that you were exhausted. he took initiative and carried your school bag for you as you trudged to unlock the front door. once you walked in, you instinctively fed perry before walking to your bedroom, jake locking the door for you then walking over to place your backpack next to your couch.

walking into your room felt like heaven on earth. you didn't even want to change into comfy pajamas before flopping onto your bed, but you decided to quickly change so you could reach the maximum amount of comfort you could possibly feel.

jake walked in while you were in the middle of changing, his face immediately turning bright red at the sight. you sensed his presence and turned around in a slightly startled manner. "s-sorry, i can get out-" jake said as he pointed at the door behind him. "jake, you've seen me naked before," you chuckled before pulling your pajama pants up, "you're silly." his lips formed a pout as you giggled.

he walked over to your dresser drawers and opened the one that he stored some of his clothes in, similar to the way you did at his house, and found something warm comfortable to change into.

watching him undress himself only to put on different clothes kinda turned you on, but you felt too tired to act on those feelings and urges so you opted for just innocently lying on the bed with him.

before he crawled into bed with you, you heard him plop on the floor next to a pile of plushies you had in one of the corners of your room. "i missed you guys so much," jake said, his words muffled from the fact that he plunked his head face-first into their soft fur. jake was very fond of soft and fluffy things, so you could practically sense the happiness radiating off of him now that he finally got to be with your plushies again. you smiled lightly at how cute he looked whilst choosing which one he wanted to bring over to the bed. once he finally settled on one, he hopped into bed with a little 'whee!' and snuggled up next to you, hugging the plushie.

"someone's comfortable," you chuckled as you brushed his hair with your fingers, "so cute, puppy."

you hated admitting that you loved his touch. you loved when he was close to you. you loved the feeling of his body against yours. even though you adored his touch so much, your heart was still twisting itself into knots, still not being able to forget the harsh things he said that were still eating away at your heart.

jake must've sensed that you were feeling uneasy because he randomly decided to shimmy up close to your face and look you in your eyes. you swore that jake's sixth sense was knowing if there was something on your mind.

"my pretty princess," jake said with a cute smirk, "something on your mind?" he asked.

'shit. he knows,' you thought to yourself as your brain scampered to find a response. you didn't want to tell him directly how you were feeling, so you just let words spill out.

"i-i just, i really," you stuttered, "i really need to be close to you right now." you didn't even exactly know what you meant by that, but you felt like it was the only way you could express yourself; by just letting words fall out of your mouth. you didn't know if it would make you feel better to push him away or to let him hold you so tight that he probably physically wouldn't be able to let you go, so you decided to try the second option for the time being.

your hand snaked itself down to palm him through his sweatpants as he started to kiss your face gently. everything happened so naturally that you almost didn't even realize what was happening.

jake soon locked his lips with yours, kissing you slowly as he put his hands in your shirt. you snuck one of your hands past the waistband of his sweatpants and began to feel his hard through his boxers until you worked up the courage to slide your hand into them. jake gasped into the kiss at the feeling of your hand on his sensitive cock.

you freed yourself from the kiss, you and jake positioned yourselves in a comfortable position where he could easily slide into you. lining his tip up to your needy entrance, he gently entered you, both of you gasping at the feeling.

"is this what you meant when you said you needed to be close to me?" jake asked with a cute smirk to which you became bashful. "maybe," you responded to him as you pushed your hips down further, causing you both to let out quiet moans again. you tried to stay still and just cockwarm him, but you subconsciously started to squirm and move around to feel him more. you heard him suck in breaths whenever you moved around, his arms seeming to hold you tighter.

"aww, is my princess needy? do you want to feel daddy even closer?" jake cooed as you nodded. in this moment, you felt like you didn't have enough self control to only cockwarm him; you wanted, no, needed, more because you just wanted to see if it would be the solution to your heartache caused by the fight.

jake chuckled at how cute you were whenever you were needy for him then proceeded to gently position you onto your side so he could fuck you just the way you wanted. lifting up your leg for easy access, he lined his tip up to your entrance and pushed himself in, earning a few quiet moans from you once he started fucking you slow.

the gentle sex started to remind you of the night you two fought since that was what you two were doing before the whole altercation, but you tried to push it out of your mind and pay attention to the pleasure. you let jake kiss you slowly as he slid his cock in and out of you at a perfect pace; not too slow, but not too quick. losing yourself in the kiss, you were soon able to forget for a second why you were feeling gloomy in the first place. jake's lips hypnotized you along with his strong thrusts. jake didn't fuck you from the side that often, but whenever he did, you couldn't help but become completely lost in pleasure.

you whined out for him as your thigh trembled in his hand, making him chuckle sexily as he left wet kisses on your neck. it seemed as though you became overstimulated earlier whenever jake fucked you slow than if he were to be rough.

"is daddy making you feel good?" jake asked with an amorous tone as he watched you grip onto the sheets. "mhm," you nodded slowly, your legs trembling, "so good, daddy." you whimpered.

jake suddenly and slowly pulled himself out of you, rolling you into your elbows and knees as you arched your back for him. he let out a groan, turned on by the fact that you knew exactly what he wanted you to do for him.

jake's nails dug into the soft skin of your ass as he pushed his cock back inside your leaking pussy, your walls immediately tightening around his length.

jake wanted to keep his pace and fuck you slow, but he always found himself losing his self control when he would fuck you from behind. he subconsciously began to thrust into you harder, making you moan into the bedsheets. his hands traveled all over your back and torso as his tip poked your cervix.

"aw, we forgot to turn your poor little plushies' heads around," jake teased, "now they know how much of slut their mommy is, don't they?" he asked as he landed a hard spank on your ass. you let out a whimper in response while jake continued to please you from behind. "m-mhm, i'm daddy's slut," you mewled out subconsciously as jake slowed down his pace, ready to change positions again. chuckling at how cute you were being, he gently lifted you up and sat you next to him.

"get on top, princess," jake commanded with a gentle tone as he patted his lap. naturally, you followed his order: straddling his thighs before letting him reenter you.

slowly, you sunk back down onto his length, letting him stretch you out once again. jake grabbed onto your hips and helped you set a comfortable riding pace, helping you reach your high as you quietly mewled for him.

"that's right, baby," jake praised while you slowly began to bounce on his cock, "just like that. my good girl." he let his head fall back while he groaned and clawed at the soft skin of your ass.

"w-want daddy's cum," you whimpered as you looked at him with your pretty eyes, rolling your hips against his and trying to get him to reach his high.

"i know, princess. daddy's close, okay?" he reassured you breathlessly as he held your hips down, beginning to thrust into your pussy in order to poke at your sweet spot. "fuck," you whined out with a small squeak, "mmh, right there."

the two of you moaned in sync as you reached your highs. you felt jake's thighs tremble as he filled you up with his cum, a mixture of yours and his arousal ran down your inner thighs.

you got off of him then proceeded to rest on your side for a second; it didn't take long for you and jake to collect yourselves and clean each other up after the deed. you quickly got comfortable again, jake holding your waist from behind and cozying his chest against your back.

he let out a content hum as he held you close. you, on the other hand, were feeling a hodgepodge of emotions that you didn't even know if you could describe.

all you knew in this moment was that you still felt hurt; your heart beginning to twist itself in knots again as your head became clouded with the, very slim, possibility of jake leaving you. you were trying to drill into your head and convince yourself that you didn't want him, you wanted his money.

you suddenly felt yourself squeezing on his arm that was wrapped around you. squeezing and holding him as if you were trying to keep him in place; keeping him in place as if he was trying to leave you. soon, you felt your face become wet with tears that stared to subconsciously fall from your eyes. you didn't even know when you started crying, you just knew that you probably wouldn't be stopping any time soon.

jake already felt slightly alarmed at your sudden tight grasp on him, but a siren blared loudly in his head when he felt a tear roll off the soft skin of his arm.

"baby, what's wrong?" jake asked with concern while he held you close, gently helping you sit up so that you could breathe. you covered your face and sobbed into your hands. you physically could not hide your hurt feelings anymore, so you just let everything out right then and there.

why were you so emotional lately? it shouldn't even matter anymore, but why did it feel as if your world was crumbling over one, teeny tiny situation? why were you so sensitive over anything that had to do with jake?

jake wrapped his arms around you and began to gently rock you back and forth to try to comfort you as you cried. at this point, jake knew why you were crying. he knew that what he did really fucked you up, and it was eating him alive that you were still in pain over something he did. he had a feeling that you were hiding how you felt, but he didn't want to pry so he just left it alone.

"i-i'm s-sorry," you hiccuped as you frantically tried to dry your tears which only made jake's heart break even more knowing that you didn't think your emotions were valid, "i just n-need a s-second."

jake could feel pieces of him breaking when you calmly stood up to walk out of your bedroom, sniffling and hiccuping through tears and out the door, closing it to create physical space between the two of you.

'why am i even crying?' you internally scolded yourself as you walked into your bathroom to look at yourself in the mirror. your eyes were red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears.

it's as if the more you tried to block out your emotions, the harder they came.

you looked over your shoulder to see your bedroom door begin to creak open, prompting you to quickly grab the door handle of the bathroom door and pull it shut.

the sound of the door being shut made jake feel a physical pain in his chest, now hyperaware of the still ongoing effect of when he lashed out on you.

the thin walls didn't make things any better; he could hear your sniffling sobs even through the closed door. still, he slowly approached the closed bathroom door. you could feel his footsteps on the ground where you sat with your back against the door. all you could do was bring your knees up to your chest and let yourself keep crying; you didn't have the energy to keep it in anymore. not even the embarrassment of showing your vulnerability to jake was enough to get you to shut up.

"y/n," you heard jake's soft accent through the thin wall, "baby, please don't lock yourself in there. please let me in." hearing his voice made you body stop everything that it was doing; a full-body reaction to the simple sound of his voice. did his voice make you feel everything or nothing at all?

you did want to let him in, yes, but you physically couldn't push yourself off the floor to open the door for him. "g-give me a s-second," you said for the second time tonight as you took deep breaths in attempt to gain a sense of calmness before facing him again. with a final deep breath, you managed to get yourself off the floor.

slowly opening the door, you were met with jake's tear-stained face and still watery puppy-dog eyes.

it was not-so silently established that you hated seeing each other cry once you practically fell into each other's arms, both emotional, crying messes. the scene was enough to make perry raise an eyebrow and wonder what the hell his owner was doing at this hour of the night.

"i promise i'll never do it again, my princess," jake declared with a quiet whisper, "i'll never raise my voice at the girl i care about the most ever again."

you felt a small chunk of your heart heal, but just for emotional safety, you vowed to try to push him away again.

well, maybe not a push. maybe just a nudge.

and the halloween party would be perfect for that, right?

--------------------------------------------

a/n: hi gang, i'm finally back with another chapter! i've been working on lots of stuff lately, but expect another chapter this month :)

taglist: @axartia @jjhmk @valiantwastelanddelusion @jayroseyy @ayohahaha @asaheyow @lhsng @i-dalso @bunhoons @red-xherry @duolingofanaccount @lix-freckle3 @l0st-h0p3s @leeis @muffinminnie @green-orangeade @imbaeksbae @sunghoonmybeloved @sjakewrld @markleeisdabestdrug @futuremodeldiary @jeondolly @lil-iva @lalalalawon @noirgray @jckeplanet @teddy-lhj @meinapricity @jjkshies @bubbleseo @cherryunie @mqndnolia @bently-baby @fluffypiesstuff @ihrtk1ve @wonkiluvr @teti-menchon0604 @lovienikitty @rjsmochii @omgjwon @sunshine-skz @wy1999t @lv4rin @oceanyocean @jakeswhore

side note: before being asked to be added to the taglist, make sure that you set up your tag settings! i'd hate for you to miss out if you asked to be on the taglist only to not see your tag :(

#enhypen ff #enhypen fanfics #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #jake smut #jake sim #jake sim smut #enhypen jake x reader smut #enhypen jake smut #enhypen jake #jake enhypen #jake enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen jay smut #enhypen hyung line #enha jake smut #enha jake

[clairedaring]

more my stand-in thoughts and other ramblings about joe/zhou xiang best boi

!!!!!!!!!!! POSSIBLE NOVEL SPOILERS WARNING !!!!!!!!!!!

as my stand-in begins to air, even though we're only two episodes in, the series itself has already established very clearly and explicitly that ming is a HUGE RED FLAG and he's not... the nicest guy.

and as we are told by the narration of joe, this time he had with ming was not a dream as he had though but rather a nightmare and that it was ming who led joe to his death (literal translation of his last line in ep 1, iqiyi engsub you lack accuracy i hate you).

and while i am just one among the joe's protection squad, i feel like i don't share this overwhelming opinion i've been seeing of people thinking joe 2.0 should pull a 180 change or to be as bad as ming or to become some kind of monster and take his revenge on everyone who's ever hurt him as if this is some makjang kdrama.

i once wrote a bit about my thoughts on why joe/zhou xiang is such a compelling protagonist and what separates him from other 188 novels' main characters. but since that piece was written before my stand-in had aired and i think the characterization of joe has been slightly changed in comparison to the novel, so i want to take this chance to elaborate a bit more on my point in that post as well as update it to fit with the series version of zhou xiang.

so, like i've mentioned,one of the traits i love most about joe/zx is this inherent kind-hearted nature of his and i think the series has not only just done well in this aspect, but also greatly amped up this quality in the series portrayal of zhou xiang.

you can seeeeee it through joe's acts of services for this STRANGER he had just met. be it offering ming a ride to the BTS station or cooking for ming even though they didn't fuck.

however, i do agree with my friend @dragonsandphoenix's observation that with the series, since they're trying to speed through joe 1.0 and ming's relationship, the series has joe falling much quicker (literally him using the L word on ep 2 pls joe) than zhou xiang did, considering it took mingjoe only 2 ep before they started their period of domestic life and yanzhou 17 chapters to do the same thing.

i feel like this specific adaptation change in regards to characterization can cause audience to be even more protective of joe than novel readers already were of zhou xiang. one of my biggest fears for this adaptation (i say one of bc novel readers would already know my biggest fear of one specific scene) has always been the doormat allegations against joe. but like i've also said before, it's that specific trait that 'joe has the ability to fight back but he simply won't because he refuses to hurt others and his soft heart has him in pain whenever he sees others hurt' about him that i hold so dear. even in the series, we know joe has the physical capability of taking sol down... and the man did give sol a deck to his neck making him passed out.

... but it's also the same joe who would take care of sol after accidentally decking him.

did anyone watch ep 2 started counting how many times JOE apologizes in this episode... literally in the car scene, he said sorry to ming TWICE because he was scared he had hurt ming's feelings for his assumptions (right ones at that). or when the hot water dripped from the lid of the pot, joe immediately said sorry and checked to see if ming was hurt.

whether it is in the novel or the series, joe/zhou xiang is just really the type to sacrifice himself for the sake of others, he's never been able to put himself first and puts others' feelings above his (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ

which is why i was pleasantly surprised reading professional body double. because one would generally assume that after all the miseries thrown his way, he would become a bitter person, full of grudge and resentment against people who had hurt him, but he doesn't. that just isn't who joe is.

while joe's bad experience in his 1.0 life does change how he navigates his social life and the relations he has around him, it doesn't change the inherent kind hearted nature nor the optimistic outlook on life he once had. i love that for joe in his 2.0 life because his first and foremost goal was to restart a life happily and we gradually got this journey of self-respect and joe 2.0 finally being able to put himself first and fight for the things/people he love.

while there are obviously bad consequences to the "antagonists", i like that it has never been the direct result of joe 2.0 actions but it's more karmic. although i'm very open and would glad to see the antagonists getting even worse consequences than what happened in the novel (which i think was pretty mild) i think i'd rather be interested to see more of series!joe being happy and successful (big emphasis on successful because if i don't see joe with his 20+ blockbusters he deserve i'm suing for emotional damage)

in regards to the wife chasing arc in the second half of the series, i think this part will be rather controversial since there are diverse opinions on how audience want the wife chasing arc to be executed, or from joe 2.0's perspective: his responses/actions to being chased by ming again. and trust me, i do want to see ming grovelling in pain and suffer just as much as the next joe's protector. but at the same time for me it'd just be... ooc of joe to intentionally and/or maliciously inflict pain on ming. granted i do have some qualms as to ming's chasing method that i hope the series will adjust, i do think that zhou xiang's approach to being chased by yan ming xiu was rather sufficient without the need to give zhou xiang a 180 personality change, so i really hope that doesn't change.

all in all, while it's probably quite early to tell how the second half will progress and whether it does/doesn't diverge from his journey in the second half, i just think it was very in character for zhou xiang to make the decisions he does in the novel in his second life (except for one noble idiocy move that lasted like a day) and hopefully joe 2.0 also does in my stand-in for his new life. *sighs* joe is just truly best boi... i love him... look at he... that's my baby angel （づ￣3￣）づ╭❤️～

#my stand in novel spoilers #my stand in #my stand in the series #my stand-in #professional body double #novel spoilers #was this just a post to say please don't be mean to my boi joe even if he makes terrible decisions in love? yes yes it was #wanna touch upon the point of the beauty that is ravaged joe and his series of unfortunate events but perhaps another post #claire opens up her goddamn mouth #msi thoughts #my writings #Youtube

[sungbeam]

𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐒 — teaser!

nonidol!kim sunwoo x fem!reader

you never thought your humble, little podcast would ever touch somebody's soul like it did one kim sunwoo's

▷ genre, teaser warnings. s2f2l, fluff, slight angst, humor, no specific warnings for the teaser

▷ projected release date. august 6th

▷ estimated wc. 20-25k haha,,,ha

this is the fifth installment of the love in unity series! this fic can be read as a standalone, but there will be references to the main plotline and all other yns will be referred to as _!yn

a/n: dude, i literally DRAGGED myself out of writer's block for this 😭😭 so pls reblog when it comes out 😎🤡

TEASER BELOW THE CUT (APPROX. 500 WORDS)

By Saturday morning, Sunwoo had had enough of his own stubbornness and caved. He donned his headphones, grabbed his bag, and headed out the door to do some work in a cafe located on the Ave. There was one that his friend Jacob had recommended to the group awhile back, and Sunwoo hadn’t looked back since.

As he tuned into the episode, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, shivering against the cold, winter winds. February weather was a doozy, and a hot cup of coffee or hot chocolate sounded so very sexy right this moment.

“Welcome to Songbird Station! I’m your host, DJ Dove, and you’re probably wondering what the title of this episode even means, or why I sent that weird, cryptic voice message the other night.”

The traffic light turned green, and Sunwoo began to cross the road, the coffee shop in sight. His hands were beginning to get clammy in his pockets.

“Don’t riot, but friends, it means exactly what it says—” As you exhaled out a breathy kind of laugh, Sunwoo inhaled sharply.

“Helpful,” he muttered under his breath as he pushed into the warmth of the coffee shop. He shook the cold out of his body before hopping into the line to order.

“ —I did actually land myself a date yesterday. Honestly, I’m not really much of a dater; I never really had time with it over the past years because I would, uh… well, I would rather stay in and do music, y’know?”

The corners of Sunwoo’s lips curled up into a smile. Maybe he had been nervous before about this episode’s topic of choice, but he should have had more faith in you. Rather than speak about the date the entire episode, you always managed to worm in a discussion about your passions, and that was the kind of talk that had first gotten Sunwoo hooked. There was something so attractive about hearing or witnessing a person gush about their passions and ambitions—the way their eyes lit up, their posture righted itself, how they smiled so big that one could hear it in their tone of voice.

He was happy that you went out on a date, because you deserved to meet someone who treated you as special as you were. You were a good person, and it wasn’t fair that he was being so salty about it, especially when he was too chicken to—

“Sunwoo?”

His soul practically fell out of his body. “Shit—” He swore, yanking his headphones down with eyes as wide as the earphones. He whirled around to greet you with a flushed face, red like the old Christmas decorations still hanging up from the crown moldings.

You were standing right behind him with a mildly amused look on your face, your lips pressed into a smile and eyes crinkled in absolute delight. You were similarly bundled up like he was to no doubt shield you from the cold on your way here. “Sorry I scared you! I probably should have, like, tapped your shoulder or something, huh?”

Sunwoo let out a nervous laugh and cupped the back of his neck, the skin there warm to the touch. “Oh, uh, no problem at all. I just kinda…”

“Get scared easy?” You offered.

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction

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#deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #kim sunwoo x reader #sunwoo x reader #the boyz drabble #the boyz oneshot #the boyz fluff #the boyz scenario #the boyz imagines #kim sunwoo scenarios #kim sunwoo drabbles #kim sunwoo oneshots #kim sunwoo imagines #kim sunwoo fluff #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo drabbles #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo oneshots

[theteasetwrites]

Merciless Beauty

Chapter 3: The Wound Is Quick and Keen

❧ Pairing: Knight Daryl Dixon x Princess Reader ❧ Era: Medieval fantasy AU ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, scary situation, violence and gore, references to death and traumatic situations (including child abuse) ❧ Word Count: 6.6k

❧ Before You Read...

❧ Glossary

❧ In This Chapter: Sir Daryl escorts you outside the walls of Alexandria for the first time, and though the excursion is mostly pleasant, it is rife with danger. A close call leads the two of you to a secluded cottage that only Daryl knows of, where a bond begins to grow.

❧ A/N: The princess is free! Well, kind of. She is so cute I love her. And Daryl... UGH. Literally the best. I don't have much to say about this part, but I wanna give a quick shoutout to all my friends who have been beta-reading this series! @weretheones @finalgirlrick @darylspissslit @devnmon @purple-witch-23 @littlelovingideas @spncupcake thanks so much friends!! I appreciate you<3 Also pls check out their work because they also write TWD stuff and it's amazing

The long, dark, sepulchral tunnel seemed at once cavernous and claustrophobic, with the light of the knight’s torch only illuminating a few feet ahead, but the feeling of a much wider expanse of darkness, in which shadows that may or may not have really been there lurked within the blackest corners. It was no small wonder they had been not-so-lovingly dubbed The Tombs. 

Though you were sure nothing was behind you, it felt as though an unseen entity stalked you, stepping on your heels despite no real physical weight overcoming you. There were always rumors around court about these tunnels, how they were haunted by the souls of those who perished in the first struggle against the Dead, but you tried not to pay mind to those rumors. After all, that would mean your own mother haunted these dank, miserable passages, and that was a fate worse than death, you thought.

But Daryl knew this tunnel now, having made sure the path was clear and snuck his horse out to meet you at the end of the underpass just an hour before. Still, you found yourself not straying more than a foot from him, his broad, cloaked back becoming a strange source of comfort to you in this abyss of darkness. 

“You’re sure there are no dead ones in here?” you whispered. “It smells of… death.”

“I went through here twice… No walkers.”

“Walkers?”

“Dead ones.”

Oh. A colloquial term. 

Silence settled in again, with only the echoes of globs of water dripping onto the rough cobbled stone to fill the eerie space where words had provided some relief. In that silence, your anxiousness caught up with you―what if Elizabeth’s lie fell through? She’d informed the guards not to disturb you in your chambers, that you had fallen ill and needed rest. She left strict instructions not to check on you, for fear of contagion. And with your father out of town, there shouldn’t have been any chance for disturbances. Even so, the only thing more terrifying than this tunnel was the idea of having less freedom than you already did. Being confined to your bedchamber for the rest of your life, surely, would’ve been the punishment if the king discovered your escape. He wasn’t a cruel man, but his overbearing nature could inadvertently lead to such a cruel decision. 

When a horse’s neigh startled you from your thoughts, you stumbled forward to cling to the knight’s upper arm, which flexed and stiffened in response to your sudden movement. Your chest pressed firmly against his back, he felt you briefly shiver in fear, though as your senses came back to you, you chided yourself for your jumpiness. 

“S-sorry, Sir Daryl.”

If he wasn’t caught in a rather serious situation, he might’ve let his internal amusement at your persistent formality manifest itself in the form of a chuckle, but he only huffed instead. “Just Daryl.”

Blinking hard, you loosened your grip on his arm, reluctantly pulling yourself away. He seemed to radiate warmth, and this tunnel was so cold and frightening. “Sorry. Daryl.”

He peered over his shoulder to speak again. “Stop sayin’ sorry.”

With a sniffle, you nodded your head. “Sor―” You stopped yourself. “All right.”

The further you traveled, the louder the sounds of Daryl’s horse, which provided some comfort now. It meant you were getting closer to getting out of here, and closer to fresh air.

At the end of the tunnel, Daryl placed his torch in the iron sconce hanging on the wall of a modest wooden door, with a thick bar placed across to prevent the Dead (or alive) from getting in. There stood the knight’s horse, too, hardly visible in the blackness that matched his sleek, shiny coat. From what you could see, though, the horse was beautiful, with a long crimped mane of ebony and a long forelock draping messily, yet gracefully, over his eyes. Upon each leg was a slight feathering, just above his hooves, nearly cloaking them. 

“What a beautiful horse.” As he lifted the bar with a huff, he looked your way to see your hands caressing the animal’s neck, and his black nose buried in the loose tendrils of your hair. “Oh!” you laughed. “Friendly, too. What’s his name?”

Daryl wiped the sweat from his brow as he spoke bluntly. “Phantom.”

“Oh.” You sounded a little disappointed. “Well, that’s not a very friendly name for such a friendly horse.”

The knight scoffed as he took the horse’s reigns. “He ain’t friendly. He’s a warhorse.”

He didn’t expect such a look of excited curiosity to form upon your face. “Oh, a destrier? How grand.”

With one hand guiding the horse towards the door, the other unlatching the final lock, Daryl looked back at you. You could see a sliver of bright light pouring in through the thin line where the door was beginning to open. Of course, you’d seen light before, but not like this, not from this direction. Somehow, it was different. 

“You wanna stand around talkin’ about horses all day or you wanna go outside?”

The last thing you wanted to do was spend more time inside this rotten intestine of a tunnel. “Lead the way, Sir―I mean, Daryl.”

Trying to avoid the inevitable smirk that formed on his face, he pushed the door open further, slowly guiding Phantom into the light of day, which allowed the horse’s coat to shine an almost reddish chestnut tone. 

But the horse’s beauty was momentarily eclipsed by the magnificent glade of silver birch trees before you, a simple dirt path diverging through the forest. You’d seen these trees from high above, and from a great distance, outside your window, but never had you seen them so close, so almost within reach. Many times you’d reached your hand out, imagining you could touch the trees, but now, there was nothing standing between you and that forest. 

As you stepped forward, you relished in the feeling of dirt and leaves underfoot. You’d felt the ground before, in the garden and the courtyard, but this was something different, something new. In fact, you wanted to feel it on your bare skin, the closeness of the earth. 

While Daryl busied himself with readying the horse’s saddle, you were stripping yourself of your brown leather shoes, letting one bare foot take your first step as you worked on removing the other shoe. 

The knight looked wide-eyed at you, your feet now sinking into the dirt beneath you. “What the hell are you doin’?”

To his surprise, you let out a sing-song laugh as you took several more steps towards the forest. With your head down, your hair draping all around the sides of your face, you were focused on the movements of your feet, as if you could feel the sensation through your eyes. 

“I used to run around barefoot as a child,” you said, lifting your face to his. He was greeted by a wide, toothy grin, the likes of which he hadn’t seen upon your face. He’d seen the joyful expression upon your face when he offered to escort you outside the walls, but this was something else entirely, accompanied by bright, carefree eyes that captured the glow of the sunlight streaming down to consume the last of the early morning mist. “It’s just not the same in the courtyard at the castle.”

Your attention peeled away from the knight as you took in the trees all around you, tall and magnificent, surely hundreds of years old. The stories these trees could tell, the things they’d seen—you’d hoped that their knowledge would make up for your lack of it for the past ten years. If you couldn’t have seen such things, at least they had.

Absentmindedly, you meandered towards the trees, your arms outstretching the closer you got as you prepared to touch them. Daryl could only look on in slightly amused confusion at your wonderment for such mundane objects of nature, but he had to remember, it’d been a long time since you’d seen these things out in the wilds, outside of the manicured gardens and meticulously trimmed botanicals found within the walls of the castle to which you were confined. Still, the little laughs and sweet giggles that bubbled up from within you were undeniably delightful. 

But Daryl couldn’t let you spend all day admiring a silver birch tree. He hopped upon Phantom and instructed the beast forward, until a blackness swallowed your peripheral vision. As you blinked your attention towards the knight, his hand now outstretched to you, you noticed your shoes had been stuffed carefully inside the saddlebag near his thigh. 

“C’mon,” he said with a nod of his head. “There’s more than this.”

Your bare feet skipped delicately through waves upon waves of tall white beardtongue, the petals of which occasionally tickled your bare thighs when they got caught inside your gown. You had to admit the feeling gave you a rush so strong that you skipped faster through the meadow, careful not to trample over any of the wildflowers.

Daryl’s presence was a comfort to you, him standing at the edge of the meadow with Phantom’s reins in his hand, and your velvet teal cloak draped over the crook of his elbow as he watched dutifully. Though no walkers had come across your path yet, he worried most about the poor, soft soles of your feet being marred by the elements. These thoughts were always immediately dismissed, though, as his job wasn’t to fret over your cleanliness, but your life.

“Oh, Daryl!” you called out, alerting him a bit too well as he instinctively grasped for the hilt of the greatsword strapped to his belt. He huffed when he raised his eyes to see you entranced by the pale blue spotted butterfly resting upon your hand. “Look!”

Again, you let out a sweet laughter, the cadence of which tickled the knight’s spine like a feather being dragged languidly over each vertebra. With the tiny, delicate creature flapping its wings upon your hand, he admired your gentleness, how sweet your eyes turned when gazing upon the beautiful butterfly. It was strange—he’d been out here with you for almost two hours, and yet no walkers or bandits had crossed your path. It was almost as if your purity somehow deterred those things, those horrible things that plagued this land. Indeed, he’d never seen the world like this before, so much happier and sweeter than it had once been. Perhaps you didn’t need this world, but this world needed you. No, of course not. That was silly, he told himself, shaking his head to rid himself of his own thoughts. No one woman could change the world just by existing in it.

“Oh,” you sighed in a bittersweet tone. The butterfly flew away, your eyes following it for as long as it could before it disappeared beyond the hill. 

Don’t be sad, princess, he found himself thinking, his own heart seeming to sink a little when your eyes turned just a little soft with sorrow. Please don’t be sad. 

“Well,” you sighed again, your voice getting louder as you approached him, your hands lifting your gown just enough to allow you to step high over the tall flowers. As if by instinct, his eyes trailed to your bare ankles, then your calves, your knees, and just a sliver of your soft thighs… 

Stop looking, that rational voice in his head commanded. But the improper, unabashed voice replied, But, oh, milady… What fine legs you have.

“This meadow is beautiful, but there must be more to see.” You took your cloak from him to swing it around your shoulders and clasp it around your neck, then circled around the horse to retrieve your shoes from its saddle. “Where are we going next?”

Daryl thought for a moment, but his immediate attention was directed towards the gracefulness of your movements, the way your fingers curled through Phantom’s forelock and tickled underneath his chin, and the way you nuzzled your nose against his… How gentle the warhorse was, as if you had some soothing effect upon him. 

If Daryl was a superstitious man, he’d say you worked some kind of womanly magic upon your surroundings, wooing him and his horse and even the Dead. If he was a cruel man, he’d accuse you of being a witch, demanding to see if you bore the Devil’s mark or if you sank in water. Of course, he didn’t believe in sorcery or witches or Satan, but he did believe you had worked some kind of spell on him, one of a more corporeal nature. 

“Daryl?”

He cleared his throat as his senses came back to him. “Yes, I, um… I know of a lake nearby. Would that, um, suit you, your highness?” He tried to speak in his best chivalric tone, though he knew not why. He never cared much for that before, until right this moment, and it seemed almost against his will. Maybe witches were real, afterall. Still, he wasn’t about to rid himself of this warm, ticklish feeling in the pit of his stomach, even if it was the work of the Devil. 

A sweet, beautiful, kind agent of the Devil.

“A lake would be lovely,” you replied. 

At length, you walked alongside Daryl, who let you guide Phantom this time. You’d insisted upon walking to the lake, giving the poor horse a break from carrying the weight of the two of you. It was no disappointment to the knight, who found that he quite liked spending more time with you, prolonging his time outside the walls to hold your cloak as you frolicked or to kneel and let you hold onto his strong shoulder as you brushed the dirt off your feet. It almost sickened him how much he relished in being of service to you. 

And it was such a beautiful day, the perfect day for you to see the outside world. In your fascination, you were rendered quiet, turning in every direction to catch with your eyes every bird or deer or squirrel or insect that crossed your path. The woods were serene, too, much brighter and free of any pestilence that your father had so ominously warned you of. 

Indeed, you wondered where the Dead were. It seemed too good to be true, considering the horrible memories you had of that night your mother died, of seeing her getting pulled into a swarm of walkers as she reached her hand out to you, calling for you. You still remembered how you struggled to reach for her, your fingers just grazing her trembling hand before you were yanked away by a guard. 

Of course, you knew there was no way you could’ve saved her. Her neck and arms were already being feasted upon, spurts of blood shooting out and sprinkling in crimson globs upon your tear-stained cheeks, while her screams were increasingly drowned by the sound of her flesh tearing from her bones. When her body was taken in completely by the hoard, you heard one last scream—No, please, no!

As this memory inflicted itself upon you, the feeling akin to a knife in the chest, you stopped in your tracks, staring blankly at the vision before you that seemed to have crawled out of your head. Between the trees ahead of you, five or six of the dead lumbered clumsily over sticks and stones towards you. 

When the knight pushed you behind him, drawing his sword, you studied the appearances of the dead men with shock. They wore clothes just like any commoner, one even wearing a blacksmith’s apron, another wearing a simple white linen coif upon her head, not unlike the ones you owned, except yours weren’t caked in dried blood, but the similarity was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Dar-Daryl…” Your voice faltered as you backed away, your hands clinging tight to the reins on the horse. “What do we do?”

It hadn’t occurred to him that you didn’t know the first thing about walkers, how to kill them, how to avoid them. He should’ve told you. He planned on telling you, but he got… distracted. So distracted he’d forgotten of the Dead’s existence altogether.

“Just stay behind me,” he said. “If one comes at you, you run.”

Run? Run where? I do not know these woods… 

“All right.”

He held his sword with both hands, and you wondered how on Earth he could hold such a large thing, no doubt made of fine, heavy steel. He must’ve had a great deal of strength, not to mention the heavy armor he would carry in battle. Indeed, he was broad and seemed hearty enough to withstand almost anything. 

A sparkle of sunlight reflected off the silver blade as it sliced through a walker’s neck, severing the head in one fluid motion that caused you to gasp in horror at the sight. 

But Daryl moved so fluidly, with such ease and intensity. Every stroke was purposeful, and every kick and turn and step was made with confidence. As you watched in combined terror and amazement, you realized that he really was a great knight. His chivalry left much to be desired, but you could tell why he achieved his status as knight. Soon, the walkers were all headless, and he got to work plunging the blade of his sword directly into the creature’s severed heads, which appeared to still be alive. 

You leaned forward in awe, curious about how the heads could still be alive when severed from the body. 

But your thoughts ceased when a cold hand wrapped around your ankle, pulling you with great strength down to the forest floor. You came down with a yelp, both from the startling action and the feeling of your ankle twisting in an unnatural manner, creating an awful pain that traveled all the way up to the top of your head to send you nearly passing out.

But the lone, legless walker kept you awake, yanking at your leg with its teeth gnashing horribly, creating a terrible clicking sound with each attempt to take a bite of you.

You pulled away, kicking at the thing’s forehead to get it away from you, but it was relentless, and soon set its sights on your neck as its disgusting, rotting body began to climb up your torso, its mouth dripping foul blood over your surcote as you gasped and panted and screamed in fear.

In the distance, you heard the loud whinnying of Phantom, then the sound of his hooves against the dirt, getting further and further away. 

All this happened in a matter of milliseconds, with the knight moving quickly to tear the dead man away from you, throwing its growling body several feet away from you. With a grunt, he swung his greatsword overhead, bringing it down to slice the creature’s head vertically with a horrid squelch. 

The thing fell back in its final state of death, allowing Daryl to sheath his bloodied sword and hurry over to you, his gloved hands feeling all over your arms and legs and torso. Your eyes widened at the touches, how brazenly he handled you with his strong, filthy hands. 

“You bit?” he asked.

Oh. 

He kept feeling you, lifting your dress to examine your calves with a stoicism and seriousness you wouldn’t have expected from a man with his hands all over you. But then, this was a serious situation. Get your mind out of the gutter, you chided yourself. 

“N-no, I’m fine…” Dizzied from the sudden fall, you raised your hand to your forehead, then stroked it through your now wild hair. As you became aware of your body once again, you realized the dull ache surrounding your right ankle. “Oh, my… my ankle. It hurts.”

He lifted your gown again to examine your ankle, the skin around it inflamed and swollen, and it was angled rather sharply inwards. A grimace contorted the knight’s face. “Sprained,” he said. He knew that well, having seen the very minor injury many times in battle. Of course, if the worst injury one received was a sprained ankle, that was a blessing. 

As his hands cradled you underneath the underarms to lift you, he peered behind his shoulder with a deep huff. “Damn horse,” he cursed. 

Struggling to help lift yourself with your good leg, you realized, too, that the horse had run off in the midst of the chaos. “Oh, no! How are we going to—Oh!”

You felt caught in a whirlwind as the knight somehow slung you over his shoulder, his arm wrapped around the backs of your legs to hold you in place as he began to walk, not wasting any time to catch up to the horse. 

“What are you doing?!” you cried out in confusion. Your sight was momentarily shrouded in darkness as your face was buried in the wool of his cloak, but you lifted your head to see the ground moving beneath dizzyingly as you bounced against his back. “Are you… carrying me?”

“Gotta catch up to Phantom… Ain’t gettin’ anywhere very fast with you limpin’.” He punctuated his sentence with a strained grunt, then stopped briefly to bounce you until you were more securely draped over his broad shoulder. 

“How do you know where he went?”

“There’s a cottage not far from here. He knows to go there.” That, and he could track the horse’s trail quite easily. 

You remained quiet for a while, until he hitched you up again. “You know,” you remarked, “this is not how you carry a princess. A rather large sack of potatoes, yes, but not a princess.”

He tried to hinder his laughter. It was difficult. 

“How did you find this place?” you asked, sat upon a dusty old floor pillow beside the warm, burning hearth.

The cottage was small, just one room. You’d never seen such a modest home, with straw blanketing the dirt floor and a small hole in the roof to allow the smoke from the hearth to escape, with only one small window to let in a tiny stream of afternoon light. 

You watched Daryl crush some mix of pungent herbs, water, and oil with a mortar and pestle, his hair hanging like chocolate colored silken drapes over his concentrated face. 

He looked up for a moment, his hooded eyes peeking out between those brunette strands of hair. He chewed his lip, eying your swollen ankle. The guilt hadn’t stopped washing over him since it happened. How could he be so negligent to let you get hurt? 

“I, uh… Found it a long time ago, when the plague broke out.” With the herbs crushed into an oily paste, he carried the stone mortar over to you, kneeling down to lift your ankle onto his thigh. You watched curiously as his fingers scooped up a glob of the slightly purple-toned concoction, then spread the paste over your swollen ankle. “Was fighting the Dead,” he continued as he rubbed more of the coarse cream over your skin. “A swarm cornered me here. Wasn’t much safer, though… An old man and his wife, but the old man had turned, was just about to take a bite of the woman, but I put him down.”

He noticed your shiver, then crossed the room to quickly procure a thick woolen blanket from the small straw bed. 

“Here.” He draped the warm fabric over your shoulders. “Sorry it’s not much.”

“It’s quite all right… What happened to the old lady?” 

He shook his head as he returned to his treatment of your wound. “She was already bit. I was too late… Cared for ‘er as long as I could, but no one knew back then that even just one bite means you’re dead. The fever killed ‘er… And then, I didn’t know she’d turn, too. Found out real quick that’s how it spreads, and that you gotta kill the brain.” He gestured accordingly to his own head. “And now this place is mine, I guess.”

“I thought you lived on your lord’s fief?” you asked. “You live here?”

He used his teeth to rip a piece of cotton gauze from its roll, then lifted your ankle from its place on his leg to wrap it and conceal the herbal remedy. “I travel between,” he said simply. “Stayin’ in one place never suited me.”

To an extent, you understood that. Though you always valued your home, you’d been stuck in one place for so long that it became less of a home and more of a hostage situation. “You must value your freedom,” you remarked. “Tell me, what did you put on my ankle?”

He scoffed through an ever-so-slight, crooked smirk. “You ask many questions, princess.”

A rosy pink blush bloomed upon your cheeks, accompanied by a gentle heat that wasn’t just radiating from the nearby flame of the hearth. “Well,” you said, straightening your back as his words reminded you of your status, “I think I’m entitled to know what kind of remedy you’ve applied to my wound, knight.”

He gently replaced your skirt over your ankles as he spoke, listing the ingredients. “Arnica, witch hazel, lavender… All good for pain and swelling.”

“Oh? You’re skilled in herbalism?”

“Another question…”

You tilted your head in faux offense at the observation. “I’m entitled to ask whatever questions I wish, knight.”

With a huff, he leaned back to scoot himself onto his own pillow, then kicked off his heavy leather boots. “I wouldn’t say ‘skilled’,” he replied at length. “Just… somethin’ I had to learn.”

Curiosity made you raise an eyebrow at that, and your prying was certainly nowhere near its end. “Why?”

Any other person had asked him this many questions about himself, he might’ve lost his nerve and said some rather vulgar things, but you were a lady. More than that, you were a princess. More than that, you were… something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He knew you were beautiful, of course. He had eyes. There was more that drew him to you, that made him care what you thought of him and made him care about you. 

Despite his usual tendency to become frustrated at this kind of questioning, he couldn’t bring himself to feel agitated at all. In fact, he felt at ease, like he wanted to tell you about himself. Somehow, that look in your eyes told him you weren’t just asking because it seemed the proper thing to do—you were asking him these things because you cared to know about him. No one had cared in that way before. Maybe the duke came close, but he didn’t have this effect on the knight. It was unique to you, this wave of earnestness and openness. For such a closed-off man, he found it very hard to keep his guard up much longer. 

Still, he wondered, if he let his guard down too far, could he stop himself from scaring you away? You were a sensitive thing, he’d realized. You were innocent, too. The things he’d seen and done would surely frighten you, chase you away from him when he’d only just begun to grow fond of you in some strange way. The more you knew about him, the more you’d find him repulsive, he thought. And yet, it was still so tempting. 

“Left home when I was sixteen,” he said. “Had to learn how to take care of myself. Well, learned most of that when I was...” He had to stop himself, his lips hanging open slightly in midair. If he kept going, he might’ve revealed too much, how “pathetic” his life had been. Surely you wouldn’t understand. You’d think he was trying to earn your pity, but all he wanted, as he looked into your eyes and melted into them like they were two pools of warm liquid honey, was to know that you cared about the words that struggled to will themselves into existence. Those soft, warm eyes would prove successful in swallowing him whole, into an abyss of unabashed honesty. Why was he bearing his soul? What good would it do? He didn’t know. In fact, he was sure it would only cause you to look down upon him, but he was wise enough to know that no one before had ever really asked about these things. No one before had ever cared like this. That was why he was hesitant—it was simply uncharted territory. But, then again, everything about you was uncharted territory, and if you asked, it must’ve meant you cared.

“When I was a child, my mother died,” he said. “My father couldn’t handle it… Turned to the bottle, became a lousy sot.” He swallowed hard as a bit of bile came to rise in his throat. He wasn’t sure what came over him—except, well, he’d never spoken these words out loud before. Certainly not in front of a princess. You didn’t stop him, though. In fact, you held a soft gaze, encouraging him with your pleading eyes for him to continue, not with pity, but with sympathy. How strange, you opened him up with just your kind, understanding face. “He, uh, would hurt me… Enough to break skin.” He gestured loosely towards the leftover salve. “This stuff would help with the bruises. Needed other things for the cuts, but I know all of it. Helps in war, too.”

Understanding his hesitancy to speak more about his childhood, you inquired about that—war. Perhaps it wasn’t a much more cheerful subject, but there was something you’d been wondering about since you first met the mysterious knight. 

“War… Is that how you got your scar?”

It took him a moment to register your question, as he had so many scars now, it was hard to keep track of them all, but you gestured your finger to point towards his face, and he cursed himself for not thinking of the long red stripe running down over his left eye, At times, you yourself had forgotten it was there, its pigment blending in with the tone of his tanned skin in certain lights, but it had intrigued you since you first saw him. 

“It’s a battle scar,” he answered. “Yeah…” 

“I read that battle scars are honorable to knights.”

“They are,” he responded quickly, as if defending himself, despite a lack of anything to really defend. But his tone soon shifted as he processed your words. “You… read about knights?”

Swallowing hard, you averted your gaze to try to find some respite from the embarrassment of admitting that you found his kind to be fascinating. To say you read about knights would be an understatement. Your father housed an impressive collection of literature in his cabinet, many of which you’d secretly take to the solar and read by candlelight in the wee hours of the morning when a particularly restless sleep became too much to bear. Among those books were the most popular chivalric romances—The Knight’s Tale, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Le Morte d’Arthur, Erec and Enide, Sir Eglamour of Artois… Daryl wasn’t like any of those knights, though. He was… better, you decided. He was real.

“I do,” you spoke shakily. “I—I… know a bit.” You never stuttered. Why were you stuttering? Eugene had all but trained you out of the habit in your public speaking lessons. He hadn’t prepared you for the intensity of Sir Daryl’s gaze, how it reduced your poise to a shiver. And yet still, you were the most poised woman he ever met. 

In fact, he didn’t notice your stuttering at all. It was hard to let anything distract him from every word you said, every open and close of your plush lips that were made glossy and smooth from suet and marjoram, with just a touch of red wine to paint a delicious tint across the plump skin. The musky amber scent of civet oil mingled with the floral marjoram to tickle his nose so heavenly, even from this distance. Each movement of your lips only carried the scent further, like it was floating on angel’s wings to him, and only him. For a brief, anxious moment, he pondered upon the taste, and the texture… How his lips would feel against yours. 

Lust is a sin, he told himself, despite having not paid a visit to a chapel since his knighthood. Still, a knight should respect the laws of God. Like all the knights in the stories you read, he was beginning to face temptation. 

With a quiet huff, he yanked himself from his intrusive thoughts to face you with a slight smirk. “I guess you’re fond of Sir Lancelot?” he asked. 

Not at all, you thought. I am more fond of Sir Daryl. 

It was twilight when you arrived back at the castle, slipping through the Tombs and coming out into the gloomy dungeons in the dark underbelly of the keep. To distract the guards that stood near your chambers, Daryl alerted them to a “walker that must’ve slipped through the walls,” but used the opportunity to sneak you into your room. 

The knight ushered you in the room with a frantically waving hand. With a slight limp from your injury, you stumbled in laughing. Giddy, that was the only way to describe it. You were giddy from adrenaline, and felt a surge of fiery energy flow through you like a match being struck. Indeed, the whole day had been exhilarating, though terrifying at points. Ultimately, it was everything you’d dreamed it would be, and more. 

And you couldn’t help but admit that it felt wonderful to break the rules, to do something reckless for once. You were a little afraid it would become an addictive habit, but it was worth it. To see the things you saw, to behold new landscapes and to feel unburdened by the oppressive walls of that old gray castle… Oh, it was a wonderful feeling.

You couldn’t contain your excitement much longer—when the heavy wooden doors closed with a quiet clack of the latch, you opened your arms to rush towards the knight with an exuberant, but hushed, “We did it!”

His eyes widened as he felt your warm, soft arms around his torso, his chest pressed against yours so close that he could feel your swift heartbeat pounding against your ribcage. Whatever overcame you, it must’ve been born of your excitement, and he couldn’t hide the fact that he was excited, too. For what, he did not know. The day was over, his task was complete. He’d taken you outside the kingdom, allowed you to do as you please as he kept a watchful eye, keeping you safe from harm… Well, there were some slip-ups, but he was successful in his mission. 

Perhaps he was excited because he, too, felt the adrenaline rush, the excursion having been the most treacherous crime he’d ever committed, and he’d committed a few. Petty theft and a few drunken brawls, to be specific, but you’d never know that. Not as long as he could help it. 

Despite his hands and arms floating awkwardly around the curves of your waist, he didn’t dare touch you. There was an innate desire to, of course, but it wouldn’t be right. None of this was right, in truth, but there was no going back now, and he didn’t want to go back. He didn’t regret a thing, and that scared him a little bit. How on Earth could that scare him? Nothing scared him. His own feelings baffled him, especially when that musky amber scent came back with a succulent vengeance to assault his senses with the most indulgent perfume he’d ever had the pleasure of falling victim to. For a moment, he closed his eyes, taking in a quiet, deep inhale. That was the closest he could let himself get to doing anything he might’ve been wanting to do.

When you realized he wasn’t holding you back, you pulled away from the stoic man. Clarity returned to replace the intoxication of the adrenaline, and you cleared your throat to change the atmosphere back to that of knight and princess, not acquaintances of equal standing.

“Thank you, Sir Daryl,” you said. He winced for a moment at the title, having gotten a little accustomed to the simple name upon your lilted voice. Now, it was formal again, direct yet gentle. It still sounded beautiful, the way you spoke, but it was different. Only now, he noticed that it softened even more, as if your words were resting on downy pillows that filled with increasingly plush goose feathers each time you spoke to him. “Today was the best day of my life.”

Quite frankly, he found that very hard to believe. So hard to believe, in fact, that he let out a puff of air between lips that formed a wry smile. “What’re you talkin’ about, woman?”

“Woman?”

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes… What I mean to say is, what you’ve done for me today was what I’ve wanted for so long, and now I feel as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Thank you.”

A pregnant silence hung in the air between you before you turned to cross the room over to your vanity, where your jewelry casket sat. You rummaged through to once again procure his payment. 

“No, your highness,” spoke the knight, his steps getting heavy as he approached you from behind. “I told you, I can’t accept that.”

You turned to face him with a smile, and a glimmering ruby brooch encrusted in silver filigree, characterized by delicate, swirling arabesques. “Nonsense,” you replied. “Please, knight. It would please me so for you to take this… And, there’s always more… For next time.”

Raising his eyes from the gem in your hand, he searched your gaze for earnestness. Indeed, you looked not unlike you had that night you begged him. You had that desperation in your eyes, that lust for freedom and exploration. The difference was, there was now a smile upon your face. That was even more tempting for him. A smile like that was dangerous, as he was sure you could just about convince him of anything. 

“Next time?”

“Yes, next time my father is gone. Of course, if you’re agreeable to it.”

Agreeable to it? Your beauty was intoxicating, and exposure to it was like radiation—surely no good for him in the long run. That all being said, there was something tempting about the danger of it all, the wrongness. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, not since before he was bound by the laws of chivalry. It was wrong of him to do this with you, but it had an effect like theriac; it was both an antidote and an addiction. 

With a hefty huff, he took the jewel from your hand, stuffing it into the simple embroidered chaneries hanging from his belt. 

That night, he agreed to another excursion, whenever that might be. Now, he seemed to be officially at your every beck and call, waiting for the signal to come and rescue you from your entrapment. In a way, he himself had become trapped, a chaperon condemned to serve you until your whims ebbed and flowed away from him and his outside world that he knew so well. It wasn’t this in itself that frightened him, though—it was the fact that when he thought of the next time he’d have to be your escort, subject to your will, he smiled. This realization of his devotion to you made the subconscious depths of his mind aware of one important thing: you weren’t just any princess, you were his princess.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader insert #daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus x female reader #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus x you #norman reedus x y/n #norman reedus x reader insert #merciless beauty series #theteasetwrites fanfiction

[leighsartworks216]

Painting Data's Nails

Data Soong x GN!Reader (platonic)

This was inspired by The Experiment by star_trek4ever on AO3 pls go read it its an awesome fic <3

Also wanna say that this is my first time writing Data and I am also not very far into the TNG series so maybe some of this contradicts idk

Warnings: very very light angst

Word Count: 1745

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"Lieutenant, what is the purpose of this activity?"

Data's hand, surprisingly warm, rested steady in your own. Matter of fact, his hand was perfectly still; it was your hand's imperfect movements that caused it to move at all. Heavily focused on the task at hand, the question lingered in the air. The brush swept across the nail, leaving liquid pigment in its wake. Delicately, you evenly distributed the lacquer.. Then, with a relieved breath, you straightened away from his hand and deposited the brush back into the small bottle.

It was your idea. Data, with all his access to information and vast knowledge of early Earth history, knew nothing about human spa days. More accurately, he knew of them, but the greater purpose of taking care of oneself was lost on him.

"Well, nothing, really." You blew lightly on his nails, urging the yellow paint to dry faster. "I think it started as a beauty thing. Humans, mostly women, would paint their nails a bright color - like red or pink - and it would catch the eye of others. It became a form of vanity as it progressed, before it sort of died out."

"Intriguing." His brow furrowed at his hands, eyes distant as he skimmed through the database in his mind for more information. In a second, his eyes were focused once more on you. "Ah, I see. Painting one's nails became a popular form of self-expression in the early 20th century, temporarily increasing confidence and gathering the attention of others due to the humans' limited visible color spectrum.

"According to my records, disputes arose as to who would be allowed to wear nail polish, sometimes resulting in violence. I do not understand this. It is a rather simple activity - how could it cause such disagreement?"

You lifted his other hand and began the process of painting the nails once more. Your handiwork wasn't perfect - small bits of the paint attached itself to his cuticles, resulting in a non-uniform appearance - but the Android didn't seem to mind (or understand that it was 'imperfect') and you were enjoying the easy, repetitive motions.

"That's..." You struggled to find the word as you tried cleaning up a large dab of paint on his finger, the result of a sudden hand twitch. "Complicated. Back then, and I guess even still now, humans were uncomfortable with people even slightly different from them. They built up bullshit 'rules' to describe femininity and masculinity, and anybody that didn't fit into those societal standards was ostracized. It was mostly men who were made fun of for painting their nails, since it's considered a 'feminine' activity. They would be labeled as homosexual, regardless of their actual preferences in sex. It was a way to bully them for enjoying something that wasn't deemed masculine enough.

"But," you added, smiling softly at the man sitting across from you, "it was an excellent form of rebellion against those standards. People of all genders would wear the 'wrong' clothing or indulge themselves in things that went against the status quo. Of course, it died out once universal gender equality was established in... 2037?"

Data nodded, confirming the date. "Quite correct, lieutenant. The Complete Gender Equality Bill was passed in October of 2037, and stated that all persons, regardless of biological sex or personal gender identity, were allowed the same rights to equal pay, marriage, privacy, and expression."

His mouth opened for a brief second, ready to explain the various amendments that had been made to the original bill and their impacts on history, before shutting. You glanced up from your work in surprise when he didn't continue to ramble on.

"What's wrong?"

He was frowning again, appearing almost upset. "I have discovered that my tendency to, as the Captain puts it, 'babble' makes those around me uncomfortable and irritated. In an effort to avoid this, I have resorted to shortening my explanations."

Now it was your turn to frown. "You shouldn't have to do that, Data."

"No? But it makes my colleagues uncomfortable when I babble."

"Don't tell me they cut you off..."

Data remained silent, adhering to your wish.

You sighed, upset but also aggravated. Briefly, Data wondered if it was his literal interpretation that troubled you, as he often got confused with human expressions as such.

"You consider them your friends, correct?"

He considered this for a moment. "The definition of friend requires that we share a 'bond of mutual affection.' I do not believe this is true."

"Okay, then, what about companions?"

His head tilted, searching for the definition. "Ah, yes. 'A person or animal with whom one spends a lot of time with or with whom one travels.' My relationship with the rest of the Bridge crew does, indeed, satisfy this definition."

"Then they shouldn't do that. Friends or companions or colleagues or whatever should have a mutual form of respect. You don't just cut off somebody you respect. It's rude and mean and unfair."

"I do not comprehend their actions as mean; I am incapable of feeling that emotion."

You huffed, clearly annoyed at the topic of discussion. "That doesn't matter! What matters is that they know it's rude, but they don't care because they don't hold a mutual respect for you. They see you as lesser than them and it's not fair!"

"Inquiry: what is unfair about it?"

You barely stopped yourself from grabbing his shoulders and shaking to emphasize your point. Instead, eager to release the tension running through your veins, you stood from your bed and began pacing around your room.

“Regardless of whether you are an android or a human, or an android with human emotions, the Captain is human, the first officer is human - they have the emotions and rationelle to know what is rude or inappropriate when talking with someone else. Whether you are able to perceive it as rude means nothing when the people actively silencing you know it’s wrong! By continuing to interrupt you and cut you off, they are actively letting you know in a passive aggressive - possibly even subconscious - way that you are less than human. They claim to accept and encourage your personal goal of embracing human emotions, but actively play a role in stunting that growth by not giving you the space or time of day a normal human would get.

“It’s unfair because it’s hypocritical and demeaning and, ugh, so very human of them to look down on anything slightly different from them.” A long, drawn out sigh escaped you, stealing with it the last remnants of your anger and frustration. You plopped back down on the bed, laying unceremoniously across from Data.

It takes you a minute to gather the energy to sit back up. Your outburst has drained you of energy. After a long work day bustling from control panel to control panel, reattaching wires or rerouting power, you had just enough energy to have a quiet moment with Data. And now it was all gone. So much for a relaxing spa day.

“Lieutenant?”

You hum to let him know you’re listening even as you twist the yellow bottle of paint shut and retrieve the sealing top coat of polish from a miniature makeup bag.

“If, as you suggest, this repetitive behavior is detrimental to my goal, what would you suggest I do to confront the issue?”

Halfway to reaching his hand, Data holds it out for you, meeting you in a familiar middle ground. His hands are still warm and steady. Your brushing movements are clumsier than before. He would have gone so far as to say careless, but the change in your demeanor was akin to exhaustion, so he did not say anything.

You sighed. “If it really doesn’t bother you, do nothing. If you think they really do have a good reason for cutting you off, do nothing. But…” You placed his right hand back in his lap to dry and picked up his left hand. “I think you should mention it, at least. You deserve to be treated with respect, even if you do have a tendency to ‘babble’.”

Data’s mind rushed to consider the possibilities, and his own ‘emotions’. While, no, he did not feel irritation or unfairness in his colleague’s actions, he considered your empathetic viewpoint. Rationally, there were times when he was explaining something in detail to the Captain, something he felt was of importance to the mission at hand, only to be cut off and left lacking in the satisfaction of the explanation. It was not illogical to interpret this as an early form of irritation or inadequacy.

On the other hand, he could understand in certain situations that his extensive elaborating was unhelpful, such as listing times down to their seconds or stating every single number past a decimal point rather than rounding up - topics he often got cut off on.

Having the facts laid bare before him, it was easy to come to a consensus. If he could round up his numbers and calculate how vital the information was before continuing to elaborate on insignificant matters, there would be less need to be interrupted. And if his colleagues on the Bridge could conclude whether or not the information was vital, and learn to cut him off in a ‘kinder’ manner, there would be less interrupting overall.

When he zoned back in from his contemplations, you were softly blowing along his nails.

“Lieutenant?” You hummed again, carefully running your thumbpad over the lacquer to ensure it was dry and continuing to blow when one was a little wet. “I have considered your suggestions and have concluded the best course of action. From my understanding, when humans do not communicate their issues with one another, the problems begin to increase in magnitude. It would be beneficial for myself and my companions to communicate these issues as I have with you and find a middle ground with which to continue forward.”

You brushed your thumb over his nails once again before letting his hands go. You grinned up at him, eyes softened with fatigue. “I think that’s a good idea, Data.” You smiled a little bit wider when Data’s lips curled into an awkward facsimile of a grin.

As he returned to his room, leaving you with an in-depth description of the Complete Gender Equality Bill as you drifted off for the evening he considered how fitting it was to be wearing a symbol of rebellion and standing up for oneself.

#fanfic #fanfiction #star trek #star trek tng #star trek the next generation #data #star trek data #data soong #data x reader #data soong x reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #gn reader #x gn reader #platonic #fluff #way too optimistic thoughts about the future

[yostresswritinggirl]

I GOT AN ANGST IDEA, super, super aNGST.

I just read you Tighnari x reader x Cyno! And read some sad fic's... and Tokyo Rev but that's besides the point— How about reader that's not YET on a relationship with both boys and they (Cyno and Tighnari are in a relationship) have feelings for reader! They want to include her as well but reader hides their emotion's really well, they know her because she's always "happy" and helps everyone around them but her eyes look dull (with no life) and just hangs out with both of them but—

Reader is tired? As in mentally exhausted and just wants to end it all because some dark past came to her? (It could be a trauma that's get her on that state)

Nobody expected such a twist! Cyno and Tighnari watching as she almost jumps off a cliff and ask them to let her hand go so she could finally rest— ABSJSBS IM SORRY? I BLAME THE FANFIC I JUST READ— Also I want to suffer, they're not Cyno and Tighnari angst fic's—Ejem, if you feel merciful— Probably a sappy ending or something? I would leave that at your imagination of what happens at the cliff—

Anon—🖤 Bali

Ah, next time make sure to add trigger warnings to your asks please! Since I can't really add one before your ask, just to protect everyone reading (including me) pls and thankies

Tw: please read on your own discretion, tho the word itself isn't mentioned

This actually reminded me of the Tighnari series I've been following (also has unalive themes) and a Tighnari fic in my head that also has the same theme that I definitely won't write-

And anon Bali(?, Cuz I know this isn't the actual 🖤 anon we already have), I get what you're trying to put down but I want to raise a better point

What if this was AFTER they broke up instead? Ohhh spicier and more heartbreaking, the guilt of it all and the fear on their end after realizing that they may have had a hand on why their ex is acting like this, while the reader couldn't be bothered to comfort them back

Tighnari finding them on the cliff near where their favorite spot when they were still poly, sadly smiling at seeing them still attached to the place, until they jumped - and he rushes in to grab their hand, but they were too heavy because of their adventuring bag they won't let go no matter how much Tighnari begged.

Tighnari is shouting for help, getting more frantic at this point as his strength is starting to slip and that's when Cyno heard his call and rushed over to help. Quickly pulling them up, one of them takes the bag (it's SUPER heavy) to look inside, seeing that it was actually all the mementos they had when they were all still together. Their ex planned to jump off with the items they loved.

While the other, most likely Tighnari, pins them down to stop them from trying again as he shouts at them for being so stupid, so reckless, what the fuck was that stunt you pulled?! Why didn't you listen to him?! He was crying without even realizing, eventually realizing the implications the more he calls them out.

They still love them, of course, it's not easy to move on from someone you loved for so long and so genuinely. But that doesn't mean they want you gone just because you're not together anymore. It's not gonna be a cake walk back to the relationship, be real, but it depends on why they even broke up in the first place.

With the Matra and the forest rangers tasked to look out for their ex, the two took their time to help them back to living healthily again. Back to normal, as normal as things could be. When the reader does commissions outside of Sumeru, they were always antsy and paranoid that you'd have done it, and the wait is always terrifying that they can barely function in their work.

It's always a relief to see their ex back and alive even if they promptly shove away their positive looks and go straight to Katheryne like nothing happened. I also can't think of the ending cuz I want to leave that for interpretation aaaaaa

#exile.goblet #poly cynonari #tw: suicide #exile.circlet #I can't tag this properly ah #genshin impact angst #maybe i'll actually add a breakup chapter for the mirage alphabet #exile.reader #Bali

[grippingbeskar]

Hey lovely 😊 how's life? How are you REALLY doing?

I'm patiently waiting for 25th chapter of salt, ice and fire. 😇 It's totally fine if you want to concentrate on something else for a while, just wanted to know if you're okay 🥹

It is a coincidence, but everytime I had a shitty day, suddenly a new chapter came out and it always made me feel so much better. I'm having extremely hard time at work lately and everyday I'm hoping for the next chapter. At the same time I don't want it to end yet and the realization breaks my heart, so actually I'm glad you haven't posted it 🫠

I'm such a tragic piece of shit 😆

Anyway, can I have a tiny tiny request? I'd love a one shot with Frank with a lot of fluff and "sweeheart"(s) and love and just Frank being supportive and protective, basically anything that would take my mind off work. I've been getting up way too early, coming home late, the job itself is not so bad, but the people are awful. To be honest, everyday I come home shut the front door and just break down in tears.

Whoa, can't believe I made this about myself, when I was asking how are YOU doing. I still wanna know! 🙃

I hope I'm not asking too much, if you don't feel like writing it, I'll understand.

Take care 🖤

D

sweet loving— a SIAF drabble

— @lemon-world1 read the end of this fic for my long ass reply to this sweet message, i ranted a bit too long lmao 💞

— also, this can be read as a lil one shot, but it’s set in my series universe, salt, ice and fire, between chapter 24 and 25. but it’s just sweet and fluffy. this isn’t proof read i wrote it as soon as i got this ask so pls excuse any errors <3

— warnings: none. just happy thoughts :)

Your shoulders ache, feet past the point of pain as you trudge through the door and slam it behind you. It wasn’t anything in particular— more everything all at once that was weighing on you. Even your hands shook as they through the keys on the table, the loud clatter like a final straw, making your eyes squeeze shut at the noisy intrusion.

You only make it about three steps forward before you hear him moving. It’s late— windows permanently drawn shut, but usually the light can trickle in when the sun hits, dancing along the old wood floors like shimmering diamonds. Not now though. Apart from the hue of the moon, the apartment is pitch black, so even if your eyes were open you wouldn’t see him coming. He clears the length of the living room in only a few long strides, your eyes not even having time to open before you feel him.

He doesn’t say anything, either because it’s so late and he doesn’t want to crack the silence or because he could tell it had been a long day. He always could just tell— it would of been unnerving, how easily he could read you, if you didn’t love it so much. His arms wrap tightly around your lower back, the other snaking under your ass so he can lift you up off the floor. Your legs relax around him, a years worth of tension floating down and away from you just in the way he holds you close.

Your head falls into the crook of his neck, back almost arching into the heat of his body. He had been asleep, you could tell because of how warm his skin was, and how he groaned lazily as he turned to walk you into your bedroom.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He murmurs, head dipping to kiss under your jaw. You can’t find words just yet, just humming in response as his lips continue their path down your neck. It’s all softness and sweetness, and it’s another way Frank manages to read you. He knows what you want before you ever have to ask for it.

You expect to be taken to bed, content to fall asleep in the clothes you were in all day if it meant staying attached to Frank’s body, but instead you feel the cold porcelain of the sink under your thighs. Your eyes flutter open, seeing the cool tones of your bathroom shadowed behind Franks body, his hands holding your head up.

“Hey.” You smile lazily, and he returns it, light sparkling in his eye when you nuzzle your face into his palm. “What’re we doing in here?”

“Getting changed.” He says simply, his hands travelling down to hook underneath your shirt and swiftly pull it over your head. You let him move you around, a sleepy smile on your face, content to do whatever it is he wants you to do. “Can’t sleep in jeans.”

“I can just sleep naked.” He leans into your open legs, chest pressing to yours as he laughs, the sound muffled in your hair. You feel his hands again, calloused and searching for the clip of your bra, undoing it like he has a thousand times before. It still sends a shiver up your spine.

“Heads always in the gutter, ain’t it sweetheart?” He pulls a shirt— his shirt, you can tell— over your head, before his hands come back to your cheeks to encourage you closer. He finally kissed you, and you sigh appreciatively, like he’s serving you something you’ve craved for months, though it had really just been mere hours.

The kiss is slow. His lips melt into your own, your body slumping forward to taste more of him. Your hands wander through his hair, down his neck to his shoulders, his skin still impossibly warm despite the chill air of the bathroom. You moan as his hands dip again, slowly working the button on your jeans. When they give, he slides you off the counter, and you whine when his lips leave yours.

“Frank.” You pout, and he shakes his head. You can see the smug smirk of his face from this angle as he sinks down in front of you, taking your jeans off and freeing your legs so you stood before him in just his shirt and your underwear.

He takes his time coming back up, hands sliding up the skin of your calves, slowly up behind your thighs, stopping on your ass. He can’t help himself even in the middle of the night, giving the flesh a light squeeze that he knows always makes you laugh before stilling on your hips.

“Didn’t realise you’d be so late, baby.” He flicks the lights off, sinking you both into darkness as he guides you back to your bedroom.

“Neither. Took too long.” You can’t think about the events of the day, not when he’s kissing you all over, worshipping every bit of you he can reach before he tugs you down on the bed.

“What happened?” He wraps his arms around you, trailing his fingers up and down your leg as he pulls you flush against his body.

“Someone was just… they said some shit when I walked past. Nothing crazy, I just— “ You whisper all of it in confession. “People are just the fucking worst sometimes.”

“Who?” Franks voice drops lower, a tone you only recognise when he’s holding a gun.

“I don’t know them. It’s fine, I just don’t want to think about it anymore.” Frank grumbles something aggressive under his breath, and you have no doubt he’ll push you on it tomorrow, but for now his hands are too distracting, and the wet heat of his mouth under your jaw has you sighing his name. “Fuck, Frank.”

“It’s late, baby. Get some sleep— I’ll take care of you in the morning.” His words drip like honey down your spine, full of care and affection you wouldn’t think was possible from someone who used to be so hard and cold to you. Now, it was impossible to place him acting with anything but utter adoration with you.

You hum again, and as much as you want to roll over and show him how much you appreciate him, the simple touches and gestures of this moment are sending you drifting off to a place of complete relaxation. So much so that you can feel sleep creeping up behind your closed eyes, Frank still kissing you softly on the top of your head before tucking himself behind you on the pillows.

“Love you, Frankie.” You feel him puff out a breath at the nickname, his smile evident on your skin.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He replies back, and you drift to sleep, knowing Frank will always give you exactly what you need, even if it’s as simple as a good nights sleep.

—first hello. i want you to know this literally made me CRY. like tears were shed. you are the sweetest person ever i am actually a mess. i love hearing that the story has the ability to make you happy in any way, it’s all i ever wanted to do and i appreciate you so much! i am working on the next chapter, ngl i have been distracted watching the last of us and falling into a joel miller hole (he is just so fine i whfjeigkfj) BUT it’s coming!!!

—and i am in the same boat. i don’t want the story to end at all, and i think that’s why i’m putting off writing this next chapter. i know there’s one more after this, but i think i’ll have written everything i wanted to write for this series after the next two. so i think that will actually be it and i am EMOTIONAL! i think i’ll take a little break from series, because i miss writing one shots for frank BUT there is more series in the future, and i will definitely not stop writing for frank ever. he’s my number one forever and always.

—i’m so so sorry you’re having a hard time at the moment, but i hope this tiny lil moment right here helps a little!!! i’ve placed it in the SIAF world, and it’s literally the timeline right in between the last chapter and the next chapter, so i’m basically bribing you with this in hopes it’ll help until i finish the next chapter 😭

—okay i’ll stop ranting now, but as soon as i saw this ask i was like i need to write this right now because you deserve it. lots of love, and i hope things start to look up for you. xx

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #marvel tv #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #marvel #the punisher x y/n

[pocketramblr]

Everything I see about stormlight is exactly the kind of thing I'd love to read I think except there are so many books and I have no fucking clue where to even start. So... suggestions pls?

Local libraries (I have 5 library cards for different cities) unfortunately have very little Sanderson, but I do have a £10 voucher for waterstones that I need to spend in the next year sooooo

oh hohoho ok yes i can answer this question very normally while vibrating an average amount

So, Stormlight Archive itself is a (fairly) straightforward series, but it's part of a bigger Cosmere series that is, uh, less so. I do recommend reading Mistborn at some point, since it's kinda his breakout series and will be important but uhhh i haven't done that and when in doubt you can look everything up on the wiki so anyway, here's Pocket's Reading Order

1- Warbreaker. This one is set on a different planet than Stormlight, but it's first for a couple reasons. One: it's free to read online at Sanderson's website. Two: four characters (so far) show back up in Stormlight after Warbreaker and i love them so you should know about them going in. Three: it does a good job kinda breaking down a lot of the magic workings in the Cosmere.

read it here

2- Emperor's Soul. I actually read this before i read Warbreaker but it does a REALLY good job at breaking down the magic more. I'd say this one is optional though, it's a shorter little novella and doesn't really impact the main Stormlight storyline (it's on another different planet). I'd say it kinda helps you grasp Sanderson's reading style more, because you're kinda gonna need to trust him going into Stormlight. but if you already are sold, this one isn't too vital since it can be harder to find. (on its own for audiobook, or in Arcanum Unbound collection)

3- The Way of Kings, Stormlight Archive Book One. Look. this book has three prologues and is much bigger than Warbreaker or Emperor's Soul. You've got to trust him but it's worth it. Honestly if you skipped ES, a lot of the magic explanation gets there anyway through the book, just broken up a bit more.

note: DO NOT read Way of Kings Prime, his first draft of the book. its um. its really a first draft. noncanon, a lot of the cool stuff wasnt in it yet.

4- Words of Radiance, Stormlight Archive Book Two

The sequel!

5- Edgedancer, a Stormlight Novella. Yeah you don't want to move on to book three without reading this one. Um, you can find Edgedancer in Arcanum Unbound, the same collection that Emperor's Soul is in. There are probably standalone versions of it somewhere but im not sure where. all else fails, the Coppermind Wiki has very good summaries if you want to read those to move past it. (thats uh,,,, what i did with the first mistborn trilogy oops)

5- Oathbringer, Stormlight Book Three

6- Dawnshard, a Stormlight Novella. (Lie! it's actually just long enough to be a novel but everyone very politely pretends its a novella. this one you can get by itself and ahem. if you want to borrow my copy you just let me know once you get there.)

7- Rhythm of War, Stormlight Book Four

im uh. not gonna lie to you. this book is kinda the 'lowest of lows' emotionally, it gets real dark. im p sure Brandon actually published it with a trigger warning. but its REALLY GOOD just ugh. delicious.

That's all the Stormlight books that are out so far, but uh, book Five releases 2024 and there'll probably be another novella between four and five since there was a 2.5 and 3.5 novella but thats it so far.

so yeah get started with Warbreaker maybe? then see what libraries around you have the other stuff.

#theres a joke about the true cosmere reading order being the warbreaker reading order #where you read warbreaker between every single book as you go through #its not a joke i love warbreaker and i LOVE the characters that show back up in stormligt #mmmmmm Nightblood my adored #i wont say who the others are bc warbreaker spoilers of course but #they're my little squeaky toy and my utter adored and my clown guy #but of course the real star of Stormlight is kaladin and his drift compatible fairy princess sylphrenaaaaa loves loves loves #anon #pocket talks to people #i hope this answer was. helpful. more helpful than it looks kjhgjk

[vagabond-umlaut]

THE LOVE CONFESSION THAT NEVER HAPPENED

▸ TEEN!GOJO SATORU X TEEN!FEM!READER; FLUFF WITH A PINCH OF ANGST; THIS FIC IS NOT CANON TO THE SERIES WE'RE THE SUMMER TO OUR WINTER RAIN!!!!; READER MIGHT BE A BIT OOC!!!! ▸ READER'S CLAN NAME & CURSED TECHNIQUE ARE REVEALED IN THIS. ANY & ALL SIMILARITIES TO ANOTHER'S READER/OC IS PURELY UNINTENTIONAL AND COINCIDENTAL. I SWEAR I DIDN'T PLAGIARIZE IT. ALSO, I'M UTTERLY AWFUL AT FINDING JAPANESE TERMS OF ENDEARMENT, DESPITE GOOGLING. SORRY :((

▸ THIS IS FOR THE AWESOME @heresan WHO NEVER FAILS TO SPOIL ME WITH HER ASK. ILYSM TINA! <333 ▸ WARNING: BRIEF MENTION OF A HIT-AND-RUN CASE & INFIDELITY IN ONE LINE [SATORU & READER ARE NOT INVOLVED, DW] ▸ AS ALWAYS, THE GIF, DIVIDER & CHARACTERS USED AIN'T MINE. PLS DON'T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE OR REPOST THIS. ENJOY READING! ❤️

The stars are but mere fireflies to the sun that is the Kojima household tonight. 

Bedecked in bright lights and a thousand and one paper lanterns, the palatial grounds of the property exude a brilliance, the likes of which the guests claim to have never been seen before, their awestruck voices drawing a polite smile from your grandmother (though the pride in her ancient eyes is unmistakable, you note). 

You move your eyes away from your clan matriarch and let them rove over those around you – and their glowing selves – rendered more luminous by their expensive fabrics, sparkling jewels, and gleaming smiles. 

Oh, what a couple of scraps of paper can do to one’s self, you muse silently, glancing at the woman batting her eyelashes at your cousin – the former the same one who was convicted in a hit-and-run case a year or two back, though now, with a Louis Vuitton dress hanging off her frame, no one, except you, perhaps, remembers on seeing her the innocent blood she wiped off her hands, all thanks to her wealth. 

Not wanting to mar this celebratory evening with such dark thoughts, you shift your gaze to tonight’s centre of attention: the older of your two brothers, Takeshi and his fiancée Sara, your lips turning upwards into a small smile on seeing how dazzling they look beside each other – how beautiful, how well-suited, how happy, how… very artificial they look beside each other. 

As artificial as the thousand and one paper lanterns your grandmother’s so proud of. 

As artificial as your guests’ smiles - too-white, too-wide, too-thin. 

As artificial as the compliments you can hear that woman shower upon the wife of the man she was attempting to seduce not too long ago. 

Your smile disappears to give way to a frown, as you take in the falsity around you. 

And a leaden weight lodges itself in your chest, right where your heart should be, when your eyes again meet the sight of your brother and your childhood friend smiling at the photographer – while your ears hear the wails of anguish, the snarls of contempt and the sighs of wistfulness –a cacophony of abandoned dreams and stifled desires emanating from the two souls soon to be joined in holy matrimony, two weeks from today. 

Your mother says marriage is one of, if not the happiest event in a person’s life. 

Oh Mom! If only you could hear what I can now… 

Placing your empty glass of mojito mocktail on the grass near you, you lean back against a tree and close your eyes to soothe the throbbing pain in your temples – one which always happens after you’ve been amid too many people for too long a time, much to your great discomfort. 

Sighing loudly, you move to lie down on the grass when the sounds of an approaching pair of footsteps reach you, soon joined by a boisterous yell of “Aha! There’s the woman of my dreams I’ve been searching for so long!” 

“Hello to you too, Satoru,” You say, turning to the side and propping yourself up on an elbow, your eyes now open. “Didn’t think you would make it to the party.” 

Gojo flops down beside you with an exaggerated pout. 

“Oh, come on, Momo-chan. Think a bit higher of me, will you? Of course, I would make it to the party. My best friend’s brother’s getting engaged today. How on earth could I ever miss it?” 

“And since when have you and Takeshi been on such good terms, hm? That you’re willing to leave your comfortable life at school to attend a party filled with clan elders for an entire evening?” You ask him, an eyebrow raised, unwilling to buy into his rubbish explanation. 

Gojo chuckles. “Oh, it’s not Takeshi I’m here for today,” He says softly, shuffling closer to you until your sides are almost touching, “It’s you.” 

You open your mouth, ready with a snarky reply, when his expression makes you stop – the words you were planning to say, now lost in your throat, as you look at his unusually earnest face. 

“Satoru?” Your voice comes out as a shaky whisper, reasons behind which you cannot fathom for the love of your life. 

(It’s ’cause he’s so close to you, silly! A part of your brain whispers – the same one which had made you call Gojo handsome, out of all the damned things you could say to him – that day you first saw him in his Jujutsu Tech uniform – much to your utter bewilderment and embarrassment.) 

You clear your throat and repeat yourself loudly, “Hey, Satoru?” 

“Hm?” Gojo moves even closer to you when you call his name and places a hand on your cheek, the warmth of it making a wonderful contrast with your cold skin that chilly autumn night. 

“Do-” You hesitate, as an odd (warm? bubbly?) feeling creeps into your chest, but ultimately your concern for the eerie way his eyes seem to shine at you outweighs that weird feeling, and you ask, “Do you have a fever, Satoru? You don’t really look okay there.” 

Gojo blinks, his unusual expression soon overtaken by a stupefied one as you continue to peer up at him, frowning. 

“Satoru,” You shake him gently, after a few seconds of him staring at you. “Hey! Gojo!” 

That seems to shake him out of his stupor, as he quickly removes his hand away from your cheek and scoots away, his face reddening with each passing moment. 

“N-no, no. I’m okay. Totally okay,” He mumbles, “There’s no need to worry. I’m perfectly fine.” 

But you know the white-haired shaman way better than that. 

You sit up and move closer to him and place your palm on his forehead, the other palm on your own forehead. “Now, lie still and let me check your temperature.” 

“Your skin’s warm… But not so warm for you to have a fever,” You say after a while, still frowning down at your friend whose head you have now placed in your lap, “But your face looks awfully red. And your eyes too seem weird. And,” Pausing, you place your hand on the kimono over his heart, remembering a person’s pulse rate is said to speak volumes about their health, and gasp. 

“My goodness, Toru! What the hell happened to you? Your heart is beating really fast! Are you-” 

A finger to your lips stops your outburst, and within the next moment, you find yourself crushed to his chest, his arms holding you in a vice-like grip and his nose muzzling into your hair. 

“Toru, you’re not really okay, are you?” You ask, tilting your head up at him, the slight tremor in your voice inaudible to all except you – and Gojo too, perhaps, judging by the way you notice him smirk a little at you, before it slips into an indecipherable twitch of his lips. 

“No, I’m not okay,” He answers above you, his arms around you tightening a touch. “I’m really, really not okay.” 

You crane your neck upwards to fully look at him and brush the pads of your thumbs over the skin under his eyes. “Then why did you come here tonight, you idiot? You should have stayed back in your dorms and taken rest,” You scold him, concerned eyes sweeping over his appearance. 

Gently removing your hand from his face to intertwine his fingers with yours, Gojo leans closer to your face and whispers, every breath he exhales hitting your face like a little puff of smoke in the cold, “But I couldn’t stay back in my dorms tonight, Momo-chan – Not when I know the medicine to my treatment is here.” 

It takes a while for his words to register themselves in your brain. 

And when they do, you can’t help but let out a small gasp (the same time as that portion of your brain lets out a small squeal in joy). 

“Are you-” You begin but stop yourself from speaking any further, your trust in your oratory skills having plummeted to an all-time low, and choose instead to focus on his electric blue eyes as the slew of nervous mutterings, which had been lost in the background of your mind until now, slowly turns intelligible. 

Was that too much for her? 

Am I going to get rejected? 

Well, shit, she’s going to reject me. 

Oh wait – did she even understand me? 

My Momo-chan can be really dense at times – though she’s cute too then – like really, really cute! 

But no, seriously – was I too roundabout for her? Or should I have confessed to her directly? 

Oh no, she’s looking at me right now. Is she angry? Is she disappointed? Is she horrified? 

Oh no, that’d be the worst – if she’s horrified. 

Calm down, Satoru. Calm down. Take a breath in and think straight. Panicking won’t help you now. 

But I’m too much in love with Momo-chan to even think straight. 

Damn it, damn it, just damn it. 

I should have just listened to Suguru and written her a love letter or something. 

“Love letters are really beautiful, Toru-chan,” Reaching up a hand, you tuck some of his unkempt hair behind his ear – while a giggle erupts from you at the way his face changes from being lovestruck (and not fever-stricken, you realise, relieved) to horrified to the most apprehensive you’ve ever seen him – and you add with a grin, “But this confession is the most beautiful of them all. I love it.” 

Gojo blinks. “So does that mean…” He trails off, an unsure yet hopeful look in his eyes. 

Sliding your hand down to his cheek and keeping it there, you reply, “Yeah, I guess it does mean so, Toru-chan.” 

A moment passes in pin drop silence between the two – the only sounds being the distant chatter of the party and the occasional wind blowing through the trees – before a wide grin breaks out across Gojo’s face, its absolute natural radiance banishing the darkness around you in a way a billion suns could never do – your grandmother’s flimsy paper lanterns or your vain guests’ mountains of gold and gems nothing but tiny specks of dust to the constellation of stars his joy reveals to you. 

And in that instant, as Gojo presses a sweet kiss to your forehead and wraps his arms around you, excitedly describing the new dessert café he discovered on his last mission and the matcha eclairs you just can’t not try – you swear to yourself that you will do anything to keep that blinding beauty of his smile unharmed – even throw away your life, if that’s what it takes. 

[I'M LOW-KEY ASHAMED OF THIS LMAOOO]

▸ MASTERLIST

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo fic #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jjk #kit posts 📝

[tobiosmeow]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Thanks....

Okay so top 10 characters and why I love him (sorry if i don't explain well why i love them, i just do)

1) Kageyama tobio (Haikyuu) - I love him so much that he's half of my username. Haikyuu was the first manga i read, and the first sports anime i watched, and instantly, kageyama tobio was my fav character. I don't think i can explain it words how much I love him, i can just thank furudate for creating haikyuu.

2) Honda Tohru (Fruits basket) - I love her because i understand her and where she comes from, to an extent. She's kind, and smiles regardless of the situation and does her best and doesn't expect anything in return, she just like me fr.

3) Nagisa Kaworu (NGE) - gay 👍🏼

4) Miyano (Sasaki to miyano) - HE IS ME HE IS ME IM HIM WE ARE THE SAME. EXACTLY SAME.

We both discovered our sexuality after being told someone has a crush on us. So true and real.

5) Wei Wuxian ( mo dao zu shi ) - I wish to be like him actually. He's my ideal good person, who has never done anything wrong, and has always stood for the correct thing and helped people who needed help. I Just like his whole character itself.

6) Chu Wanning (2ha) - I love him he's my mommy (real) also cuz i want mo ran. I wish I was him. Wanning's love for mo ran moved me when i was reading 2ha actually.

7) Gojo Satoru ( JJK ) - GAY ☹️

8) Fu Shen (Golden stage) - He's amazing, he's like such a strong character, despite going through so much and literally almost dying, he was still doing his very best, and he ?? he literally lost his legs and managed to do SO MUCH i genuinely admire his emotional and physical strength. Also i want his husband.

9) Kim kimhan Theerapanyakul (Kinnporsche) -

BEST CHARACTER AFTER PORSCHE!! IN THE ENTIRE SERIES at least to me. I love the whole mysterious air around him in the first few episodes and then small cracks of emotions he lets us see as an audience, it's so good. And Jeff satur did a phenomenal job acting.

10) Qi Yan (JWQS) - she came to the kingdom, she served cunt, she died.

Qi yan my meow meow my evil little blorbo. JWQS is a baihe (sapphic) novel written by PDL. Qi yan is my favourite cuz she's the main character and a VILLAIN and she fell in incurable love with the daughter of her enemy.

Also linking info about the books and series that may not be known -

Mo Dao Zu Shi - https://elventaemdzs.carrd.co/

2HA - https://erhainfo.carrd.co/#about (pls pls pls read the trigger warnings before reading I'm begging u, cuz i don't want people yelling and screaming at me for this )

Golden Stage - https://goldenstageinfo.carrd.co/

Kinnporsche - no carrd, but it's a thai bl drama. (Pls look up any TW's for it before watching)

JWQS - https://jwqs.carrd.co/