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stxrvel · 3 days

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the routine (4)

heeeey guys. this is a short one but i wanted to share something with you, since it's been a while! it's getting harder to write, but i found some peace of mind today so i wanted to give you this. hope u like this! love u all and hopefully see u next time. i promise it's gonna get better, just give me some time :(.

summary: trying to settle into life after what happened has proven to be just as difficult for both you and Azriel… pairing: azriel x fem!reader words: 1.5k warnings: still just angst.

part 1: the cliff

part 2: the house

part 3: the court

There was something bittersweet hanging around your house since that argument with your parents. It had been a week since you had returned and, sadly, things didn't feel as good as they used to. You didn't expect you all to be exactly the same either, you and your parents had been through specific times that wouldn't allow them to ever be the same again, especially when they were so reluctant for you to return to the Night Court. Even you didn't know if you would be completely ready to do so in the near future.

One good thing was that, during those days, you had learned to manage your emotions to keep them from running strongly through the bond you shared with Azriel so as not to overwhelm him. Perhaps it was the only thing that had distracted you during that time from rethinking what had happened, even more than your parents' attempts at conversation.

There was also the matter of the shadows. You knew they were Azriel's, you thought they belonged to him, but some of them were constantly accompanying you, and they got scares out of your father from time to time.

Going back to your parents was supposed to bring you peace, but you felt calmer every time you looked at the tattoo running down your arm and the promise Azriel had made to you with crystallized eyes.

“I hear your thoughts all the way over here, you know?”

You lifted your head, blinking faster. The wind caressed your cheeks and moved your loose hair, for a moment forgetting where you were. Shadows gathered around your feet.

“I'm sorry, did you say something?”

Alya had a posture with her arms up, sending you a curious look. Your childhood friend barely needed to hear the tones in your voice to know when you were lying, but she seemed to want to let it go that time. The people around you didn't seem to know how to deal with the conversations when word got out that you were back, but Alya had a talent for knowing when to touch on topics and when not to.

“Several things,” her body moved toward the fruit baskets, taking the last basket in her arms and starting to walk in the opposite direction. “My brother got married.”

“Really?”

“And he has children.”

“Really?”

“Twins.”

You let out a laugh, remembering Alya's rebellious older brother. Your visits to her house were always accompanied by the constant whining and fighting between Trav and his parents because he didn't want to start a family in the near or distant future. He was so insistent about it, even though it was the only thing his parents wanted. According to Alya's accounts, it was impossible for him not to start imagining that future when he met his mate.

“What about you?”

“Ah, no, please, no. There is nothing interesting to tell about my life. I assure you that Mrs. Taylors had a more exciting life for the past few years than I have,” Alya and you arrived at her mother's fruit stand, where she dropped the last basket of goods you had helped her move all morning. You marched beside her, detailing the look of nonchalance she was trying so hard to maintain.

“It couldn't have just not happened. It was… too many years,” despite the boastfulness with which you wanted to carry the conversation, your voice reached to cut off finishing the sentence. Alya turned to look at you, her worried eyes analyzing your face before grabbing your wrist and walking away from the fruit stand.

“You know you don't have to pretend around me, right?”

Alya closed the door to her house behind her. Her family had gotten a very homey house right in the heart of the city's commerce and they kept their very well kept stall right in front of it. Every corner of the place felt like a home because of the great dedication and love her whole family put into it. Even when her brother was missing, it seemed that the house had not lost any strength or presence.

Maybe that's why you felt a wave of longing and nostalgia hit your body, leaving you more vulnerable than you had been the last few days.

“Living with my parents hasn't been so great,” you began, lowering your gaze with a frown. Alya had moved into the kitchen and you had happily settled down on the counter right in front of the stove. Your hands in front of you on the white ceramic were moving nervously, interlocking and clattering your nails on the hard material. “After so long I thought that… I thought that nothing would change when I came back. I thought we'd be even closer together than before, I even thought we'd sleep together. I spent so many nights… alone and so cold. I couldn't bear the thought of going back and having to go through that kind of torturous loneliness again.”

Alya moved in front of you, setting aside the tea brewing to clasp her hands in yours, still twitching in nervousness and anxiety. Her expression was no longer one of dread as she noticed shadows moving around you.

“Is it because of him?”

You nodded, and acknowledging it once again was no less painful.

“It's illogical, I think,” Alya rested her arms on the ceramic, frowning slightly. The warmth of her hands, even though it wasn't a bit chilly in her house, brought you just enough coziness to try to soothe your heart. It reminded you of that moment at the border of Court Day next to Azriel. “After so long without seeing you, why not take advantage of the indefinite time you'll be with them? They stress too much about something that could happen in two decades, even.”

“I've tried to tell them, but I don't think they'll be happy until I tell them I'm not coming back.”

“What about him?” Alya cocked her head to one side, and at your confused look added, “He wouldn't be willing to come?”

“What? No. I couldn't even suggest it to him,” you shook your head as soon as the words left her mouth.

“Why not?”

“His whole life is in that court, Alya. Asking him to give it all up for me just because I wouldn't be willing to do it for him, wouldn't that be too selfish?”

“You must keep in mind that you've been through special circumstances. If he really feels a quarter of the bond love, then he won't mind giving up everything for you.”

“I don't want to talk about this anymore. The tea is going to dry up.”

Alya shifted letting out a gasp of surprise.

“Fine. But you have to keep in mind that it's not just about you now. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to make decisions for him or stop making them because it's not just your feelings you have to be careful with.”

Azriel still didn't understand how Mor had convinced Tarquin and Rhysand to meet for that reunion on the day you finally returned home, but he was immensely grateful that she had been able to negotiate the terms down to the last instance. The same thing he would've done.

“Are you ever going to see him again?”

“Not as long as I live.”

The aforesaid appeared at the training camp when Azriel was taking some time away from the crowd of people living in the Town House. He would never have believed that he would rather strain his body until he passed out just so he wouldn't have to meet Rhysand's or Cassian's face at every corner. The blood in his veins burned as if it had poison in it, one step away from starting to spit in their directions as if they were the only ones to blame for everything that had happened.

As if he needed to find a culprit for your departure.

But there was no one to blame. It had been your decision. And every day since then Azriel's sentence became significantly larger and more tedious to carry. The worst part was not even knowing when that ordeal would end. Living with that bitterness in his heart and that emptiness in his soul, he didn't believe there could ever be peace in his relationship with his brothers. No one in the house overlooked that.

"She's fine," Mor changed the subject abruptly, knowing exactly how to appease the flame of his anger.

Azriel nearly melted with his forehead against the punching bag. His shoulders slumped in momentary relaxation, the only relaxation he'd allowed himself to have since you'd left.

“You saw her?”

“Yes, she was spending time with her friends. She was smiling. Laughing. She looked happy.”

Azriel had to fight the whine that wanted to escape his lips. He shook his head in assent, trying to keep the emotions at bay, sending a silent thank you through the masses of air. He felt his heart squeezed inside his chest. Every day was a constant uncertainty because he couldn't even feel her anymore…

Mor had to travel weekly to Summer because one of the terms of their agreement with Tarquin required it and for the last three weeks all Azriel had been waiting for was news about you, to know that you were well, that you looked well, that you were really happy there, at home… away from him.

“You know that doesn't imply that she wants to forget you, right?”

The mere implication made his head fall back on the sack. Azriel tried to nod, feeling the words and his own emotions choking him. His body would become an inert object at some point, that much he knew, because he couldn't spend too long living like this. He couldn't even imagine it, if he was just beginning the period that could last for years, even centuries for all he knew.

“I know…” his voice came out choked, almost mistaken for a sigh. “I know.”

He repeated again to himself.

Azriel dreaded knowing how things were going to be from now on.

taglist: @isa1b2h3 @naturakaashi @anuttellaa @tele86 @amysangel @fxckmiup @inloveallthetime @fightmedraco @railingsofsorrow @fandomarchiveilyd

#azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar series #azriel angst

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lyriclvr · 1 day

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childhood best friends to lovers

Pairing: Miles Morales 1610 x female reader !

Synopsis: miles being in love with you since you guys were kids.

Genre: fluff

Word count: 2361

His earliest memory consists of the taste of cherry flavored blowpops, the scent of strawberry lotion and wild mango shampoo, and the feeling of your soft, warm lips pressed against his.

He remembers it as if it were yesterday. The two of you had been playing outside for what felt like hours while "The mothers" (as you guys had playfully called your mothers) scolded you for running in and out of the house.

After another trip of doing exactly that—going into the house for a drink of water and quickly running back outside—Rio stopped you two and gave you the choice of staying outside, or coming inside.

you smiled brightly and assured her that you would stay outside and play until you were finally ready to come in for the day.

"Of course tia," you had agreed, "we'll stay outside and play until it's curfew! We won't come in anymore, I promise!"

And with that, you grabbed Miles' hand and ran outside to the farthest end of your street, where the neighborhood park was.

"Betcha can't beat me in a race there and back," he taunted, pointing at a large pin oak tree that stood near the back of the park. It's dark green leaves slightly brightened by the glistening sun shining down on them.

"Can too!" you exclaimed, eagerly accepting his challenge.

Miles gave you a sly grin and ran to the sandbox, which was then quickly assigned to be the starting line, with you quickly chasing behind him, your hair blowing against your face in the soft breeze.

You perched yourself at the sandbox with Miles right next to you, ready to take off and kick his butt in what was sure to be another easy round of you beating him in a race.

"On your mark…" Miles said slowly, glancing over at you to make sure you were ready, his eyes flickering with something you couldn't quite determine but making you smile anyway.

"get set…"

"Oh, hurry up Miles!" You playfully groaned, rolling your eyes at his obvious trolling.

"GO!" Miles exclaimed, and the two of you took off running towards the pin oak tree,taunting and mocking each other the entire time.

"You're slow!" You shouted breathlessly.

"You're one to talk; you are literally reminding me of a turtle right now!" Miles shot back with another big smile, sprinting to the tree as fast as he could.

When he neared the tree, though, Miles slowed down and let you pass him up—not too obviously, but just enough to let you think that he had gotten tired or that you were simply too fast for him to beat.

The truth was, Miles was much faster and stronger than you and could have easily run the race, but he always let you take the first place trophy. He enjoyed seeing you brag about how fast you were or how good you were, knowing it was only possible because of his own loss.

Because of this, you won the race and wasted no time bragging about your well deserved and expected win, completely oblivious to the fact that he had let you win this time, and all the other times that came before this.

"Ha! I beat you, Miles; you owe me a soda!" You smiled at him, flashing a row of white baby teeth with the one on the side missing.

"Oh, please," he rolled his eyes playfully, "you cheated. I would've beat you but you ran before I even said go."

You laughed at his comment and slid down the tree's thick trunk to cool down, grateful for the shade the large branches and leaves provided against the relentless July heat. Beads of sweat were starting to form on your face from the heat waves rising from the hot asphalt, and you were almost certain you were going to die of "hotness."

"Whatever, you still owe me a soda." you cooed, letting out a deep sigh and resting your head on his shoulder, hot and tired from all that running you just did.

"I don't have a soda..but I got this," he said breathlessly, pulling a cherry blowpop from his pocket stowed away from earlier.

You took it from his fingers without another word and popped it into your mouth, immediately feeling a rush of dopamine from the sugary taste of the candy.

Miles gazed over at you, resting on his shoulder and mindlessly sucking on the blowpop, silently taking the chance to admire your beauty. Even though you were just an eight-year-old girl, you were already so beautiful, and this was something everyone seemed to know but you.

Miles was reminded of this fact whenever he took the chance to sneakily take longing looks at your soft pink lips, long dark eyelashes, iridescent eyes, and that soft hair that always seemed to glow in the sun. He loved all these small details about you, but was too young to understand what this meant to him yet. So he kept them to himself, storing it for later.

A while later, you lifted your head from his shoulder, and although it was plenty hot outside, he immediately missed your warmth. He wanted you to rest on him again, perhaps come even closer, but he wouldn't press the issue.

He thought of you and what he wanted for a quick moment before he was snapped out of his thoughts when you looked up at him with a soft smile and asked him if he thought that you guys would be friends forever.

"Of course we will. We are best friends forever, remember?" He replied, fanning his flushed face.

"Yeah, but what if we get older and make new friends? You'll probably forget all about me and have way more fun with them." You countered, eyes wide, with the thought of growing up without your best friend.

"But I wouldn't, cause you're my number one girl for life. I would make other friends, but they would never come close to me as close as you are to me. I promise." He said.

As if to emphasize his words, he leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was gentle, almost feather-light, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You felt a strange fluttering in your chest, like butterflies were trapped inside. You didn't understand what was happening, but it felt nice.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, he leaned in even closer. His lips were just inches from yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. Time seemed to stand still as you waited for him to make his move, but you were unsure of what that move was yet.

And then he kissed you.

His lips were soft and warm against yours, and they sent a rush of heat through your entire body. He remembered the taste of the cherry-flavored lollipop on your lips and the softness and warmth of your skin. Time seemed to stand still as you kissed under the shade of the tree, the soft summer air caressing your skin.

He inhaled the scent of what was sure to be shampoo, its sweet, fruity smell making him only want to smell more of it. He counted to five in his head because it's what he had seen all the other kids do in the movies when they kissed, and when he finally pulled away, you were breathless, your cheeks flushed from the heat and the kiss. He smiled down at you, his amber eyes sparkling in the sunlight with something he was sure to love.

And this is when he knew that he was in love with you.

...

Now, eight years later, when he was sixteen and you were fifteen and a half --you always liked to point out whenever Miles teased you for your age difference--,Miles couldn't help but wonder if you remembered that day.

Did you remember the feeling of his lips on yours? The feeling of his skin pressing against yours? The sweet, innocent smiles that happened after that kiss?

Miles couldn't help but think of that moment as he lay on his bed, the sunlight streaming in through the window casting a warm glow across your face. Your hair was spread out around you like a halo of gold, and your eyes were closed as you lay on your stomach, lazily flipping through a fashion magazine.

He couldn't help but stare at you. Since you had gotten older, you had started to fill in nicely. Places where you weren't so curvy back then had started to fill in, and he couldn't help but take in every detail—every curve of your body, every freckle on your skin.

When he looked at you like this, he just knew he wanted to kiss you again. No, he didn't want to kiss you again, he needed to kiss you again. To feel your lips against his, to taste your sweet breath on his tongue.

"What do you think about this dress?" you asked suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. He blinked, coming back to reality, and forced a smile. "It's really pretty," he mumbled, trying to focus on what you were saying, although his mind felt scattered with thoughts he knew he shouldn't have.

You smiled back at him, and in that moment, he felt like everything was alright. He felt like he could forget about kissing you and how much it hurt to be so close to you yet so far away. He felt like he could finally breathe.

But then you leaned over to pick up your water bottle, and as you did, your shirt rose up just enough to reveal a sliver of smooth skin at your hip. It was only for a second, but it was enough to make his heart race and his palms grow sweaty. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch you, to feel your skin against his own.

"So, do you think I should get my nails done in that color?" You continued, gesturing to a pretty shade of pink on the page of the magazine. The pink had reminded him of that one hello kitty girl you liked, my Melanie? but he didn't have time to think about it for too long before he forced himself to look at the page and focus on your words.

But all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you again, to feel the softness of your lips against his. He swallowed hard, trying to clear his throat. "Um, yeah, that color would look really good on you," he managed to say. "You should totally do it."

Sensing the tension in the air, you look up at him and find him staring back at you with something that can only be described as love in his eyes. A blush crept up on your face, and you tried to clear your throat. The tension between you was growing thicker as you both struggled to maintain eye contact.

Finally, you decide to break it, glancing down at your magazine and pretending to focus on the pictures. "Well, I guess I'll have to ask Mom what she thinks."

Miles nods, pretending not to notice the awkwardness between you. "Yeah, maybe you should." He mumbles, swallowing hard, feeling the urge to reach out and touch you growing stronger by the second. He forces himself to stay still and focus on anything but these feelings, though.

The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and unacknowledged feelings. You both know what happened, you both felt things that neither of you were sure were supposed to be felt, but neither of you dared to acknowledge them. It's as if you're both afraid that if you say anything, it will make it real, make it permanent.

But Miles couldn't take this anymore. He needed you, and he knew what he needed to do in this moment.

Miles clears his throat, looking away from you for a moment, focusing on a spot across the room. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. Then, without warning, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours.

It's a soft kiss at first, tentative and unsure, but as you respond, your fingers softly trailing up his shoulders and your lips meeting his exactly how they needed to, it becomes something else.

His hands find their way to your face, cradling your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. You taste like cherry lip gloss and it instantly reminds him of the cherry blowpop flavored kiss the two of you had shared years ago.

But now, the two of you were older. Kissing meant more than just some innocent, childlike crush thing. Kissing meant more, and in this moment, he knows that he's never wanted anything more than to be able to taste you, to feel your lips against his, to breathe in the scent of your mango shampoo-scented hair.

You pull away for a moment to catch your breath, but he still holds you close to him. Savoring the closeness between you two, he whispers sweet things against your lips, whispering all of the things he's been wanting to say since he was eight years old.

"I love you, like, really, love you" he whispers, his eyes closed and his fingers tracing your cheeks and sliding up into your hair, gently touching the soft strands.

I love you too, Miles. I always have" You mumble back, your hands resting on his shoulders and your lips still softly brushing against his.

You pull away for real this time, slowly opening your eyes and seeing something you've never seen before. You see a depth of an emotion that you didn't even know existed. You see love. Not the puppy-love of your childhood, but the mature, true love that only comes from years of knowing someone and realizing just how much they mean to you.

So, you kiss him again. This time, with a passion that Miles knows he'll be getting for the rest of his life.

#atsv #miles morales 1610 #miles morales headcanons #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #headcanon #miles morales headcannons #miles morales spiderverse #miles morales x black!reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #childhood best friends to lovers #fluff #miles morales fluff

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itsbuckytm · 21 hours

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Love in the Impala / Sam Winchester

summary: Sam and you had always felt a mutual attraction, but the chance to voice your feelings never seemed to arise. Then, one evening, Sam took the initiative, creating an opportunity that could mark the start of a new relationship.

ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors

xox'

Being with the Winchesters definitely had its perks, but unfortunately, it came with its share of drawbacks too. One unexpected downside was Dean’s immediate interest in you from the moment he laid eyes on you. What Dean failed to grasp was that your attraction was solely directed towards Sam, and Sam only. Something that he too, quickly picked up on. Unlike you, Sam enjoyed every little bit of it.

Sam couldn’t help but notice your irritation whenever Dean would continuously compliment your appearance, his eyes lingering on your figure, especially during those late nights at the club. It wasn’t until one particular evening after a successful hunt, when the three of you, including Castiel, decided to unwind at the local pub near the hotel. The place was packed, signaling the end of the week, and you were undeniably exhausted. But even then, Dean’s persistent attention towards you remained unwavering.

"You know," he purred, flashing the same overconfident grin he'd given you the first time you met. "Still impressive how you've managed to keep up with us. I mean, with a beauty like yourself. Who could resist, right?" He chuckled, taking a sip of his umpteenth beer to 'unwind'. Meanwhile, you simply returned his gaze, offering a silent smile before diverting your attention elsewhere for amusement. And there it was, Sam’s eyes fixed on yours, impossible to ignore.

Sam was fully aware of his actions, deliberately ignoring whoever the unfortunate lady was vying for his attention. His nods were half-hearted, brows furrowed almost in disdain, as he pretended to listen to whatever was being said, eliciting a slight chuckle from you. "Funny, isn't it?" What you failed to realize was how you, too, were ignoring Dean's words entirely. And in response, Sam did the same, sharing in your amusement with a vulnerable chuckle of his own.

Later in the evening, Dean was completely intoxicated, the taste of alcohol lingering on his breath, while Castiel made valiant attempts to keep the conversation going. Amidst this, you noticed Sam mouthing a word – 'Bathroom' – prompting you to excuse yourself before fully comprehending his intent. Sam not only shared your sentiments but also awaited this opportune moment, perhaps to assert to his brother who you truly belonged to: him.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a little situation to attend to," you announced, your voice cutting through Castiel's ear, who simply hummed in acknowledgment as Dean reluctantly lifted his gaze, his lips forming an unmistakable pout. "Won't be long, I promise," you assured, though that turned out to be entirely inaccurate.

Sam waited for you, a drink in hand now emptied, his eyes fixated on your every movement as you approached him. You could feel his unwavering gaze upon you, devoid of shame or guilt, as he realized the power he held to admire you whenever he pleased, without his brother's interference for once. "Did I forget to mention how beautiful you are?" His gaze hardened slightly, brows furrowing from perhaps admiring a bit too intensely. But where was the line when it came to the two of you?

"Not too shabby yourself," you replied in kind, your teeth gently sinking into your bottom lip as you eyed him from head to toe, a familiar sensation stirring in your stomach, reminiscent of the first time you met Sam. It had been a rookie mistake, spilling your favorite coffee on him, but it led to one of those moments where you were fortunate enough to help him clean not just his shirt, but his chest as well – a memory he seemed to relish in reminding you of. "It's a shame we're not at a coffee shop. Who knows where your clumsiness might have taken us."

Your cheeks flushed at his comment, and the moment he noticed, his lips curved into a smirk as he leaned in closer. It was one of the things he loved about you – not only were you nearly the same height as his brother, but just a tad smaller, creating a perfect fit between the two of you. Trying not to sound too obvious, you chuckled softly, but he couldn't resist teasing you, his fingers gently caressing your chin to draw your focus back to him. "Hey hey, back to me, love," he murmured, his voice husky, rendering you almost defenseless against him, already feeling yourself succumbing to his charm.

"You make it impossible not to be distracted by your beauty," you pouted, your attempt at defense crumbling as your gaze involuntarily shifted from his chest to his lips. Sensing an opportunity, Sam's fingers trailed lightly around your waist, wrapping around you before he contemplated fully enveloping you in his embrace. His grip conveyed an unwavering resolve not to let go. "I have an idea," he confessed, sparking your curiosity about what plan he had brewing from the start – undoubtedly one that would leave Dean regretting ever flirting with you in the first place.

Sam's gaze drifted over to Dean and Cas, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he observed the scene before him. With the two of you not far away, he couldn't resist indulging in the sight. "How about," his voice husky once again, his desire palpable as he clenched his jaw, longing for you – a desire that had been brewing since day one. "We have a little fun in the Impala?"

Your nerves caused you to gulp nervously. Had you heard him correctly? "Th-The Impala, but what about—" Before you could finish your sentence, Sam swiftly cupped your face, his attention solely on you as he pressed the bottle neck into his chest. Without giving you a chance to respond, his lips brushed against yours, initiating a kiss that you found impossible to resist. You felt his breath quicken, followed by a playful nip at your bottom lip and a soft laugh as he quirked a brow in confusion. "What?" you chuckled, to which he responded in kind. "It's just... I don't know how long I could resist. If it weren't for being Soulless, not to mention Dean being so clingy around you—"

Without hesitation, you leaned in once more, rising onto your tiptoes to initiate another kiss. "Then," you broke away from the kiss, allowing Sam a moment to catch his breath, though his gaze pleaded for more. It was enough to tease him, your fingers playing with his collar as you spoke softly, "How about you be a gentleman and take me to the Impala?" He understood your implication immediately, wordlessly heading to settle the bar tab, smoothly concocting a story to excuse yourselves to Dean and Cas, citing the need for some fresh air. Fortunately, Sam's convincing manner provided the perfect cover, sparing you from having to hear the charm he employed on his brother.

As the two of you managed to sneak into the Impala, you couldn't help but chuckle as Sam settled you onto his lap. His fingers traced patterns around your waist, causing a slight shift in your hips as you felt the tension building through the fabric of your clothes. Your cheeks flushed with a rosy hue as you tried to stifle any noise. Public make-outs were never your preference, but with Sam, your adventurous side emerged, perhaps as a subtle message to Dean to cease his flirtations.

"God damn, you look even better on top of me," Sam's eyes darkened as he savored every visible inch of your skin, his fingers digging into your flesh as he relished in the sound of your escalating moans. "Sam..." Your voice echoed through his mind, driving him to the brink of madness. But before things could escalate further, a tap on the Impala from outside abruptly interrupted the moment.

"Dipshit!" Dean's voice, surprisingly less intoxicated, pierced through the silence. In contrast, Castiel remained uncomfortably silent, his presence a reminder of the world outside the cocoon of the car. Sam's chuckle prompted you to bury yourself deeper into the crook of his neck, his arm still protectively wrapped around you as he scrambled for an excuse. Yet, his cocky demeanor remained intact – if this was the tactic to finally make his brother understand, then it had to start somewhere.

"Dean, maybe we could... leave the two of them..." Cas attempted to diffuse the tension, but Dean's strong objection was evident as he stormed into the driver's seat, causing both you and Sam to shift closer together in response.

"Really?" Dean's gaze shifted between the two of you, and you couldn't help but anticipate a hint of sadness or even anger from him, considering it was evident that you and Sam had a mutual attraction. However, his response caught you off guard. "In MY Impala? You can bang anyone, Sam, but NEVER in my Impala," he declared, gesturing emphatically.

The two of you couldn't help but laugh in unison. "So, me hooking up with the girl you've been flirting with isn't a problem?" Sam sounded almost offended at this point.

"I mean," Dean paused, swallowing as his gaze met yours. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes that you felt deeply once they locked with yours. But instead of dwelling on it, he smiled. It was clear that seeing his brother happy was of utmost importance to him. "I know you've had a thing for my brother. I mean, who can resist those puppy eyes?" He ruffled Sam's hair, earning a playful pushback from Sam and a smile from you at the small display of affection.

"You're right," you agreed, redirecting your attention fully back to Sam. "How could anyone resist?"

With that, Dean started the Impala's engine, Castiel back in the passenger seat, while you nestled comfortably in Sam's arms, sitting in his lap. The drive was filled with laughter and shared moments, the four of you enjoying each other's company until you arrived back at the Bunker. As Sam spoke, teasingly, "Don’t think you can get away without me testing you, my love," you tried to hide your blush, only for Dean to interject with mock disgust, "Spare the details! For the love of god."

Chuckling together, now alone, you gently caressed Sam's cheek, admiring every detail of him. "I love you," you whispered softly, leaning in to peck his lips.

"I love you too," he replied earnestly, ensuring that you would never forget that night. And indeed, come morning, you would find it a little difficult to walk, as Sam made sure of it.

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krash-8 · 1 day

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something something i am terribly sad for my age and i think it might be a little in my head, or uncalled for, or my hand on my friends pantry doorknob as she tells me i can eat whatever i want because we’re at her house now (which warms me inside more than i want to tell her, and that fact is starting to burn) or cookie dough i made for the first time in the middle of the night because it’s easy and people like it and it’s a way to say i love you without actually telling. im glad i know my way around a kitchen but im not too sure when i learned. i’m pretty good so long as i don’t leave the stove on; i’m forgetful when it matters but i remember when it counts. i’m not too sure when i learned.

i want to cook for you, and i want you to like it, and i want my head to stay calm when i think of my body and how I could be spending this time to fix my grades and I need to do better at a lot, and most of all i want to cook for you and i want you to like it and i want so hard to believe my kitchen is any kitchen where i open the pantry and feel like that’s fine. i want to feel like that's fine.

don’t you wish milk was cheaper, and eggs, and the water bill and the price of gas so we can leave? don’t you wish it was easier for a kid who isn’t quite right to get a job around here? don’t you wish the job could pay for any of that at all, or at least be something worth my time? i think I'd like to be somewhere near you for at least forever. I wish I was always sure you loved me back and I was able to manage to drop eggs one way or another without the end of the world. i can make myself useful and bring you something I worked on to prove i love you, and I promise I'm trying, I'm not sure for what, but I know I really really want to stick around so please please let me, and do you still mean the thing you said about me being able to eat from your pantry? when do you want me home? I love you, so I can make us something nice.

#food as a metaphor for love and the absence of it. basically.#yayyy poetry (I am so sad today)#krash poem #krash poems #(forget which tag i use 😭#poets on tumblr #poems on tumblr #spilled poetry #spilled thoughts #tw eating issues #tw abandonment #abandonment issues #yayyy #im having a day #this poem has so many different meanings just btw #kinda proud of that ??? ig??? yeah I'll let myself be proud of that #not just what I tagged also

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azucarmorena97 · 13 hours

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Money Ties (Jungkook Love Story || Pt.8)

Pt.7 ||

Your parents have worked hard to get to the top and have made sure to teach you everything you need to know to be successful in this business: from tough but lucrative financial decisions, down to the right ball gown for any given banquet. A promising and extravagant future awaits you- that is, if you agree to one teensy detail...

Son of Mr.Jeon Sr. and heir to June Company, Jeon Jungkook is an immature playboy with nothing to offer a woman but good looks and a crap ton of money, and he stands to inherit much MUCH more, so long as you both enter into the arranged marriage contract that was drawn up before the pair of you were even born.

You're more than willing to try, but you're not sure you'll be able to stand each other long enough to inherit a single penny...

Series Warnings: There will be smut in the near future and I will label those chapters as such. As I say before most of my pieces- I do not endorse any themes, ideas, or behaviors in this series. This is all purely fiction/fantasy! Feel free to inbox me suggestions/ideas/what you'd like to see in this series and I'll see what I can do! Enjoy <3

CHAPTER WARNING: SMUT!

Recap: That thick tension that's been lingering in the air from the moment you first looked at each other- anger, curiosity, bitterness, longing- it's here in this room right now. Every logical thought your mind would normally throw at you to stop you from indulging, is completely crushed under this desire...the desire to know one another fully. Somehow, the two-foot space has closed to an inch. So close, you can feel the heat radiating off of his face and onto yours; his eyes almost completely closed. He's ready...are you?

Your heart is beating so hard, you hear it in your ears- it mixes with the sound of his breathing, and your breathing, and his heartbeat; before you can fully even decide what to do, your lips act on their own. Or rather, they act on your heart's true desire. Curse these lips... It's nothing like you imagined it would be, and yet it is- and yet, it's more. "Please, don't go..." He whispers to you with parted lips, and it causes your heart to stir. Only hours ago, you were certain you hated him- that you were only going through with this marriage as a favor to your parents, to secure your future- But who did you follow Jungkook up to this desolate room for? Who did you kiss him for? Whose is this heart that won't keep still for him? You. You. Yours. Only yours.

You don't answer him; instead, you bring your hand up to the side of his face and deepen the kiss. This isn't like you. You've never done this before. Sure, your first kiss was long ago had during a game of spin the bottle, and yes, eighth grade had its fair share of games of 7 Minutes in Heaven where this boy or that would try to cup your then-non-existent chest- but you would always stop it before it got any further. You knew that wasn't love. You knew it was all fleeting. You knew you were promised to someone else... Promised to Jungkook.

His large hands come to rest on your waist, though only for a moment; they begin to run down to the seam of your jeans. He wants to feel every inch of you, but he's never been one to rush. You pull away momentarily to take in a breath, but he is completely uninhibited, moving from your lips and to your neck- eliciting a gentle gasp from you. You can't help the delicious sensation, nor the way your eyes roll back in response. You have to tell him before it goes any further. God, how embarrassing. "J-Jungkook," You can barely get the words out. "Mm?" He hums into your sensitive skin. For a moment, you wonder if you even should. Would it ruin the moment? "I-I have to tell you something," Your words com out sooner than your body is ready to respond, as your hair is still tangled in his hair and pressing him to yourself.

He stops before you do, pulling away gently. "What is it?" His tone is gentle, and his brown eyes look at you so softly.

"I...I uhm...I wanted to tell you that I..." You can hardly get the words out. You're suddenly so regretful of having opened your mouth at all. "Nevermind!" You say, trying to lean in again, though he pulls back further.

"What is it?" He laughs, finding your shyness to be both endearing and incredibly attractive.

You stare at him, biting your lip from nervousness before deciding to just bite the bullet. You throw your hands over your eyes and blurt out, "I'm a virgin."

Silence follows. Silence so loud that, if it wasn't because you could still feel the heat radiating off of his body, you would've thought he'd left.

After a moment, he gingerly removes your hands from your face- though you dare not open your eyes.

"Y/n," His voice is like honey. "Yeah...?" "Open your eyes, you goof."

His playful tone surprises you, and you finally do open your eyes.

He doesn't look upset at all- or annoyed.

"Thank you for telling me," This time, he brings his hand up to your face and lets it rest on your cheek, his thumb stroking ever so gently. "You're welcome..." You blush red, unable to say anything else.

"We don't have to do anything, you know. I don't want you to think I brought you up here for that. I really did just want to talk and then- and then we had this moment, you know and-" "I want to."

He's stunned by your response and it takes him a second to process, "You- you do want to?"

"Yeah...I just...wanted you to know so that we can take it a little slow..." Sheepish is the only way to explain how you feel. You're not sure if it's normal or common for a girl to openly say that she wants sex, but none of this is normal.

You and Jungkook are not normal people. And maybe that's why you trust him so...at least with this. "Okay," He smiles, leaning in and kissing your nose, "Come."

He stands and grabs your hand, pulling you lightly as he'd done leading you up here.

Though the room hasn't been 'in use' for a while, it's still very clean and well maintained. You'd have thought it sat waiting for a guest to come at any moment.

He leads you through white double doors that divided the living area from a beautiful, neat bedroom. The bed is about the same size as the one in your room, though there's also a small couch and a wardrobe. Not to mention, a giant mirror on the far side of the bedroom, opposite the window.

"Sit down, if you want," He says before disappearing into the connecting bathroom.

You sit down on the bed, admiring the small details in the room- desperately trying not to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, as you'd thrown on jeans and a hoodie to meet Jungkook at the bar, definitely not having expected for any of this to happen.

He comes out of the bathroom holding a small speaker and setting it on the nightstand. Oh Lord, you think, what kind of cheesy sex playlist is he gonna put on?

To your surprise, a soft piano melody begins to play; one that your recognize.

"Is- is this Wait for Me?" You ask incredulously.

His eyes light up, "You know it?"

"Of course...Motopony is great."

He smiles and walks over to sit next to you on the edge of the bed- but he doesn't touch you right away. Instead, he lets himself fall backward onto the white comforter, his loose button up opening ever so slightly to expose a good amount of his chest.

He doesn't ask you to do the same, just silently stares up at the ceiling- it makes you want to do the same.

For years, you've heard people say that your first time isn't as special as the movies make it seem. They say it's something to just get done and move on from so you can start having good sex- and maybe that's true for some people, but this? You like this.

You lay down next to him, staring at the ceiling too.

"You know, I liked you from the moment I saw you." You snort, "Yeah, right." "I'm serious," He says with a smile, "As difficult as it may seem, considering your so beastly and unlikeable-" You playfully elbow him, "Shut up." "But I did."

"Oh please, you looked at me like I was a bug on the windshield." "And you are, but...I don't know. You have this way about you. You don't take shit from anyone. You say what you want and you stick to it."

"Except with my parents," You say, solemnly. "What are you on about? When I saw you renegotiate that contract with my parents- if you can even call it a renegotiation, considering you just walked in and laid down the law- I thought you were on of the bravest girls I've ever known...it must've been hard for you to have gotten it past your parents, and then..." "And then?" You ask, looking over at him. "...and then when you defended me to my parents...when you saw my dad about to tear into me and you explained how much I was gonna be sacrificing for their dream..." He turns to you, "No one ever defends me...not like that...not at all."

Your heart aches for him in that moment. Staring back at you, is not the man Jungkook, but the gentle soul within the man...

Without another word, you both lean in again. Though this time, you really are ready.

The kiss is gentle for only a second, before you're both dissolving hungrily into each other. With one swift motion, he's lifting your hoodie up and over your head, tossing it aside- exposing your thin, lacy bralette. You're suddenly aware of the slight chill in the bedroom, causing your nipples to perk up through the thin fabric. He stares in awe of the heavenly sight, his pants instantly tighter.

"Can I...?" He asks, lightly tugging on one of the straps. You nod wordlessly, smiling at his politeness.

Is he always this polite with women?

He gently brings down the strip, pulling the fabric down that once clothed your pert breast. He brings his large hand up and takes you into his mouth, licking languid circles around your nipple. "Ah," You moan, the sensation somehow everpresent even between your legs.

Amazing how the human body works, isn't it?

His teeth graze gently against the flesh, nibbling just enough while his hand plays with your other clothed nipple.

"It feels so good," You whisper, relishing in this new feeling. 7 Minutes in Heaven has nothing on this.

"Just wait," He says with a smirk, suddenly bringing his hand down to the button of your jeans. Excitedly, you stare into his eyes- waiting for the precise moment in which his fingers find- "Oh," You squeal, his fingers resting on your clit, though he doesn't move them much.

He's intent on building up your arousal.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" He asks, the smirk never leaving his face, "Feel good?" "Mhm," Is all you can manage as he begins rubbing in small circular motions, bringing his tongue back onto your nipple.

Your quiet for a little, afraid that any noise- any breath at all- will mess up this feeling.

"No, no, beautiful," He says, voice low and slow. He called you beautiful, Y/n.

"I want you to breathe through this." "O-okay," You whimper, disobeying your own judgment and following his instructions. Anything to be called beautiful by him again.

With every deep breath, you relaxed more and more- he's right- this feeling is intensifying beyond what you could imagine.

You've never known what it's like to cum. If you're being completely honest, you've tried before- on yourself, but nothing ever seemed to happen the way it did for other girls. You even wondered if it would ever be possible for you to ever reach an orgasm-

but here Jungkook is, driving you absolutely mad with just a touch. Without a moment's notice, he's plunging two finger slowly into you, measuring how absolutely tight you are. "Fuck," You can't help but swear in his ear, which seems only to egg him on.

"Tell me how it feels, beautiful." "It feels good." "No, no. Tell me more. Good isn't good enough," He picks up the pace a reasonable amount, the palm of his hand beginning to slap against your clit in the absolute best way possible.

"It's fucking wonderful- please, keep- keep going," You feel your abdominal muscles tightening, "Shit, Jungkook."

"Not yet," He says, taking his fingers out, leaving you in absolute shock at the sudden emptiness between your legs.

He swiftly gets up and walks around to the end of the bed, leaning forward and snaking his arms around your thighs to yank you closer to the edge. He quickly takes down your jeans and underwear together, easily getting them off of you and onto a heap on the ground. You'll worry about finding your various articles of clothing later.

He gets on his knees, letting you rest your legs on his shoulders, "Look at you," he says hungrily, his eyes absolutely eating your pussy up before his tongue even has a chance to taste.

You feel shy about his eyes on you, but the vulnerability also feel oddly exhilerating.

He resumes playing with your pussy for a little, getting you back up to where you were, but then he switches to his mouth- and boy, does he know how to use that mouth.

His lips suck gently on your clit, a sensation you've never felt in your life- and one you could gladly get used to.

"Oh God," You hiss, trying to breathe as he said to do but finding it oh so difficult.

"What's wrong, beautiful? Cat got your tongue?" He teases between licks.

Again, your abdominals begin to contract and you feel yourself close- close to what? You suppose you'll find out in a moment or two.

Without ceasing his mouthwork, he plunges his fingers inside of you again, getting you closer and closer until your heat is threatening to burst.

"Jungkook, I think- I think-" You can't even get the words out before you finally do burst- a reaction you never thought yourself capable of. Without any hesitation at all, Jungkook is slurping up your orgasm with thirsty desperation, a warm satisfaction radiating throughout his body at the fact that it was he who first elicited such a response from you.

You pant heavily, overwhelmed by this experience, though it's in the best way possible. Your body occasionally juts from the stimulation of his tongue on your worn clit.

With a smile on his face, he emerges from between your legs- his face transforming from depraved beast and back to a puppy dog expression, though you can still see his chin glistening.

There's something about that sweet expression that makes want to go again. To go all the way. "Come here," You say.

He climbs over you just to plop down in the empty space on your left side. You're not sure what comes over you, but you bring him closer and let the tip of your tongue glide from his chin to his lips, tasting yourself on him like a serpent tastes its very oxygen.

Now, it's you who is depraved and ready to ravage him. Virginity be damned.

You let your fingertips trail down the small portion of exposed chest to the first button on his shirt, somehow managing to blindly unbutton every single one as you kiss him deeply and passionately.

Once the final button is undone, you climb over him so that you sit straddling his waist, and now youu're the one taking a moment to admire his beautifully sculpted chest, along with the tattoos that seem to poke out from the top of his shoulder. You'd never seen them before, "Take it off," You command.

He smiles up at you, eyes wide in astonishment at your ability to take charge. He obeys, wiggling out of his shirt. When you're able to see his arms fully, you find yourself newly aroused as your let your hand touch every centimeter of his inked skin.

He brings his hands to rest on your waist, his eyes unsure of whether to fixate on your ethereal face or full breasts.

You begin to grind slowly on him, his pants still in the way of you being able to feel him- but you're okay for now. You want to build the moment too.

You want him to be as desperate for release as he had made you feel.

He helps your hips with his hands, thumbs digging gently into your flesh, the occasional sweet sting of a slap on your ass driving you wild.

You move down slightly so you can undo his pants, pulling them down a bit to expose his- rather large- bulge, covered by the thin fabric of his boxer-briefs. Suddenly, you feel a bit nervous again.

You've bit off way more than you can chew- what if it hurts? What if he's too big?

"Y/n?" His gentle voice breaks you out of your thoughts, "Are you okay? We can stop if you want?" His gentleness brings you at ease, "Can...can we take it slow again?" "Of course," he says, propping himself up and kissing you, "Take your time, beautiful."

You get off of him and slide his jeans off as he'd done for you, though you leave his underwear on. You want a moment to familiarize yourself with him...with all of him.

His erection stands tall, especially unencumbered by the thick fabric of his jeans. "You're so big," You say gently, not even trying to be sexy- just stating a fact.

"Thanks," He says sheepishly.

"Can I...?" This time, you ask for permission, tugging on his waist band.

"Go ahead," He says with a smile, leaning back with his arms resting behind his head. Intent on letting you explore, he takes slow and steady breaths.

You slowly bring down the waist band, bracing yourself- Throughout your schooling, you've seen maps and diagrams of the human body. You're aware of what a penis generally looks like- or at least, you thought you were aware- but nothing would have prepared you for the size,

Or for how it would make your mouth water.

You take it into your hand, analyzing how your grip leaves a few centimeters of space between your fingers- nice and thick.

"Mm," He groans, excited to be touched by you, the warmth of your hand giving him instant relief.

Gently, you stroke up and down, loving how the slightest touch makes him react so.

"You wanna spit on it?" He suggests, eyes fixed on your mouth. You smile, leaning in and pursing your pretty lips to let a wad of spit fall onto the tip of it. That pretty, pink tip.

You work the spit up and down his shaft, though you can hardly help yourself and, before you know it, you're taking him into your mouth.

It's all experimental at first- this is your first time touching a penis, after all, but within minutes, it becomes second nature. You're careful to avoid your teeth as you bob your head.

"Oh, fuck," He moans, his fingers softly playing with your hair- he's trying desperately not to be too rough- he wants you to explore at your own pace, but God, you're driving him absolutely insane.

"Am I doing a good job?" You ask, your eyes becoming doe-like and innocent, though of course, you already know the answer.

"Yes, Y/n. You're doing a good job, my beautiful girl," He says through gritted teeth.

You love his pet name...Oh, to be called Beautiful always.

You watch his tip gradually become wetter and wetter as he prepares himself, involuntarily, for you.

Finally, you get up and help him out of his underwear, the both of you now fully exposed to one another- uninhibited by a single article of clothing.

"I think I'm ready," You say with a shy smile.

He nods, his smile soft and warm.

You climb back on him, straddling him once more- he leans back and leaves his arms at his sides, waiting for you to tell him when to touch you.

You're nervous, heartbeat furious in your chest as you grab his dick, guiding it slowly so that is rubs against your pussy a few times- you want to make sure it's wet enough.

Finally, it's positioned so that you can lower yourself onto it. Ever so steadily, you ease onto his thick member, easy at first. You watch as h closes his eyes, his mouth falling open slightly. Though you can't fully focus on him- you're busy listening to your body's natural reactions- then a sudden sharp sting- almost like a knife stabbing through a taut cloth, and then...a sea. Truly, a sea of wetness forms within you, easing your pain so that now, the pain becomes a dull sensation.

"You're- you're so wet," He moans, trying not to lose himself in you. He's aware that any sudden move can prove too uncomfortable for you. "Does- does it feels good?" You ask, suddenly really self-conscious of your inexprience.

"Absolutely, Beautiful good...so, so good..." He can't help but begin thrusting gently up into you. He's desperate for it. Smoother than silk, your pussy has got him unraveling already. You smile, feeling now a bit braver. You begin moving up and down as well, balancing yourself on the balls of your feet. "Can- can I go a little faster?" He asks, furrowing his brows with pleasure. "Yes, Jungkook." It's as though hearing his name breathed so sensually has flipped a switch in him, and now he's grabbing ahold of your waist, thrusting deeper and deeper into you, though not so that he'll hurt you- just enough to make it interesting.

"Fuck, Y/n. You feel amazing....do you like how I feel inside you?" He asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your cheek as you continue to work on him. Your cheeks burn under his touch, "I do- you're so big," You say, locking eyes with him. "I want you to do me a favor, okay?" He says, to which you nod. "I want you to rub your clit on me while I fuck you, okay? Grind your pussy down on me, that's how it'll make it feel good." "Okay," You say, eager to please him. You get off the balls of your feet and switch so that you're on your knees, driving him deeper into you. "Fuck," You let out as you finally feel his pelvic bone against your heat. Slowly, you begin grinding forward and backward, the sensation similar to when his palm was slapping against it earlier, though this is much more intense.

"You see, baby? Isn't that better?" His tone makes you absolutely feral. You could have him talk in your ear like that all night. "It does," You rub harder, another orgasm already building up inside you, "Jungkook, I think I'm gonna cum again." "That's it, baby. Make yourself cum again," He coaches. "Okay, okay, okay," You repeat, stuck on a loop as your brain seems to short circuit- all you can think or feel is this pleasure.

With a loud moan, your pussy is pulsing against him in waves of euphoria, you throw your head back in a sudden spasm and then slow down your rhythm, though Jungkook is still going- a delightfully welcomed moment of overstimulation. You want to see what it's like when he reaches that point too.

"Beautiful, when I say, I'm gonna need you to get off okay?" He says throw short gasps. Now who's forgetting to breathe?

"Okay, Jungkook," You say, holding yourself still so he can hold onto you, pounding into you a few more times, "Now," He says, to which your respond by quickly rolling over.

You watch as his cock immediately shoots out that thick milky substance up into the air and then as it drops back down onto his stomach. His face is that of utmost joyousness and delight, "Ah," He breathes, his hand pumping his dick a few times to make sure he's milked every last drop.

He is a sight to behold as he coms down from his high; like Michelangelo's David.

"Wow..." You say simply.

"Wow," He smiles, looking over at you, reaching over to lightly pinch your cheek.

"What did you think?" He asked. "Well, I can honestly say it was the best I've ever had." "Oh shut up," He chuckles, though he brings you in closer to him. Being in his arms like this...it's one of the nicest feelings you've ever experienced. No man has ever shown you this level of affection, and knowing he's the first...it feels good. It feels right.

After a moment, he pulls away, covering his crotch sheepishly, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom really quickly."

You laugh and wave him away, taking the opportunity to stretch out on the bed. Bliss; that's the only way to describe this present feeling.

A vibration against the nightstand brings you out of your daze and when you look over, you realize it's Jungkook's phone- and then you realize it's a text... from Lisa.

𝗟𝗶𝘀𝗮: 𝗞𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲, 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂? 𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 <𝟯

Your heart begins to pound in your chest. You look over at the bathroom door, still closed, though you've heard a flush.

Without another thought, you dart out of the bed, quickly yanking on your clothes, making sure to leave absolutely no trace of yourself behind in that room.

You finally hear the bathroom door open though when you do, the hotel room door is already clicking shut behind you.

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed this spicy one! Took me all day to write. Clearly, it's about to get juicy.

#bts #jungkook #suga #bts imagine #jin #namjoon #jimin #bangtan sonyeondan #angst #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic

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shmpxx · 6 months

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BROKEN PROMISE — y.i

⛤ yuuji itadori x fem! reader

Yuuji definitely loves cumming inside but you ban him from doing so, how could you do that to poor Yuuji?

cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. cervix-fucking. squirting. non-con cumming inside. overstimulation. pussydrunk. tummy bulge. mentions of pregnancy. +18!

wc: 1k

Sex with Yuuji is amazing but also annoying. Yuuji never listens to you, not when his cock is so buried deep into you, threatening to cum and coat your gushy walls even when you tell him not to, he cums too much that you’ll already end up feeling full in one go. The first time he slid in, he couldn’t stop. How can he? Your cunt was squeezing him tight, milking him dry each time he can’t pull out in time. He’s being deeply swallowed by your warmth and the wind is being knocked out of his lungs. Your pussy is basically begging to be filled with his cum. You regret furthering make out sessions because now there’s no going back. He doesn’t like to wear condoms either, not when he had went raw for the first time, now he is obsessed with your used up hole.

You’ll scold him that if he did it again he wouldn’t be getting any for a while. This time surprisingly he did listen, he promised though he was sad he will never get to sink his cock into you and fill you up in all the right places, your mushy walls being glazed and the pretty mess you make on him as well. How could you punish him like that? It wasn’t his fault he can’t help it, the feeling was pretty much addicting but your not trying to get pregnant, though he probably wouldn’t mind if he just gets to. So every time his cock slightly twitched to cum, he would pull out cumming on your stomach or your ass. It’s still feels good but stuffing you was so much better.

Yuuji now pounding into you, this time you both ran through your first orgasm. Yuuji was hungry, hungry to keep beating your cervix with his cock. His pace was fast and rough, sweat beads forming on your bodies. His head lowering cursing and moaning “fuck-fuck..ah! Can’t stop-…shit!” he wasn’t even getting tired, his hips slamming into you and your hands tug onto the sheets beneath you, eyes tight shut as your taking his merciful thrusts, your moaning like crazy your getting dizzy. Your pretty pussy taking his big dick at such speed.

You can feel his cock throb, that’s when you know he’s about to cum. “Yuuji! You know to..ah-pull out” what was that? Sounded like nothing to him. He’s still going, his eyes closed as he tilts his head back just thinking about how good you feel and your walls tightening around his girth, he was practically drooling. “feel so- fucking good! Can’t stop! I have to-“ You shake your head before he begins to go faster. Half of your mind was being focused on Yuuji fucking you hard into your spot and the other half was the hope that you needed him to pull out in time before he cums, you were near your end and he was too yet he’s so lost in your weeping cunt, he might have to just break his promise not even thinking twice about the consequences because he was so entranced by your pussy.

“Yuuji don’t! Don’t cum inside! Ah! Pull out already” you yell out a moan, a sharp ache was building up in the pit on your stomach. He shakes his head “m’ sorry baby! Fuck-“ Yuuji was not cooperating nor he was sorry. You slightly pull your hips back but Yuuji grabs them slamming you back down, his leaking tip pounded at your cervix and you let a intense moan. “Please baby..just let me-“ he whines, his voice cracking a bit.

“Yuuji!” you gasp, you felt like you were about to explode. Yuuji hurries, feeling himself about climax and made sure he was about to do it right inside you just like he always wanted to. “‘m cumming! ‘m cumming” how fucking amazing that felt when he pumps full of hot spurts of cum deep in your womb, he’s biting the inside of his cheek. you cry feeling him fill you up so fast already and you gushed around him of your liquids right on his cock cumming hard, the feeling of your tummy became full of him “Ah! Yuuji no! I-your cumming inside me“ you whimpered with your hand on your lower abdomen feeling the bulge of his big dick. you were trembling, your heart is racing, waiting for your high to calm down but it’s taking a while to do so.

“Don’t wanna stop now” he exhales a large gasp of air, He knew he was gonna overstimulate himself, he had never before in a while though you felt so good and he had to keep going, he got to cum inside you, surely he could do it again. “Yuuji yer such a idiot” you whine and gave him a fist at his chest as his dick growing hard again and he’s still thrusting inside not caring about the filthy mess he made. “‘m sorry baby..i really am..-shit! Your squeezing me though” if you keep doing that then he might just cum harder and so much more than before.

Yuuji uses his hands to push your legs almost to your ears so he can fuck into deeper, already planning to cum inside you again when he’s to his end. He’s panting like a dog, you’re moaning and the sounds fills your ears of Yuuji’s cock plunging repeatedly in your stuffed pussy. You might just kill him after this yet you’re overwhelmed with Yuuji tip prodding at your cervix with ease. “Yuuji i hate you s’ much..hah! Ah! s’ much!” Yuuji lets out a sigh along with a small laugh “I’ll make it up to you I promise just- fuck! Let me..ah!” Yuuji’s hips are snapping but they’re also a bit sloppy.

“oh fuck oh fuck!” His cock pulses, your moans pitches when your stomach tightens. Yuuji leans down gritting his teeth hard and his fingers dig through your skin. He gives you another load while your pussy clenches around him. Your toes curl and you cum intensely, gushing over him messily again, your stomach fluttering with his dick still pumping his essence into you and some of his previous cum leaking out. “Stupid Yuuji..” you’re all fucked out but your pissed as hell “Hah..sorry” little does he know he’s not getting sex from you for a while.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuji smut #yuji smut #jjk yuuji #yuuji x reader #yuji itadori smut #itadori smut #yuji itadori x reader #itadori yuuji #yuuji x you #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #jujutsu kaisen yuuji #jjk yuji #itadori x reader

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heich0e · 5 months

Text

yuuji calls sukuna a lot.

it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.

sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.

sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.

"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.

"—'n now i can't finder!"

"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.

"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"

"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.

yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.

"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."

it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.

but tonight's different.

yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.

"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.

the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.

he doesn't see you.

"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.

"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."

yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.

"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.

"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."

sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."

"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.

sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.

"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"

the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.

"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.

as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.

then he sees you.

just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.

sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.

it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.

instead, they meet his.

"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.

sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.

the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.

"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.

"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.

you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.

"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"

sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.

the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.

"we're very close."

#sukuna x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #big brother!sukuna

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miserycanary · 1 month

Text

BREAK MY HEART INTO TWO ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next

pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: Ghost has been feeling pissed off lately, and happens to lash out on you

tags: slight angst, misunderstandings, very slight mention of violence

He knew he was not in the right headspace. With the newly added task of training new recruits, the dead-end mission, and overall exhaustion. Ghost could feel his patience nearing nothing and he could feel it in his bones that he wouldn’t be able to control himself from lashing out soon— even if it was you.

That’s why he started to distance himself and avoid you like the plague. Only responding with grunts or one-word answers. It’s not the best action but he couldn’t think of anything else. Despite the frustration clouding his mind, he still vows to never hurt you. He promised you that; reassured you that he would never ever raise his voice at you, his hand stroking your back and kissing your temple, after you told him about your past one drunken night.

The first time Simon came home and didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, nosing the crook of your neck, you knew something was up. You didn’t push the matter though. Brushing it off as something trivial and proceeding to go your usual routine. You did notice things that you never brought up with him: heavy footsteps, the lack of teasing from him, and uncharacteristically never clinging onto you

What finally pushed you to visit the base was when Si, your husband who would go through all levels of hell just to be close to you and never lets a night pass without you with him in bed, suddenly tells you he will be sleeping on the couch. It baffled you. This is the same man who wrapped all his limbs around to keep you from leaving after a big fight. The same man that acts like a big baby when you tell him you’re gonna be away on a work event. Suddenly, the idea of him getting bored of you and finding entertainment with another woman intrusively swirled in your mind.

Were you too loud? Too chatty? Clingy? Maybe you didn’t satisfy him enough. Maybe he wanted a wife available to always cook for him after work. It scared you. You love him; love him enough to change just to keep him.

You needed to talk to him. Whether he likes it or not.

“Price, please. Just call him for me?” The captain looks at you, hesitating. Even though he was aware of Ghost’s thinning temper and didn’t want to put his comrade’s wife in a position that could result in a fight, he also knew that you needed to solve this. He scratches his beard, nervously looking at you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know. The man.. he.. he hasn’t been the best these days? Maybe you should go home and wait for him—“. You cut him off, “he doesn’t want to talk to me! Please, just 5 minutes and I won’t even cause a scene. I promise!” With a sigh, he finally relents and tells you to stay there while he calls for your husband. You crack a smile, nodding and feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

Moments after being alone, a new recruit (you assume considering you’ve never met this man nor did Simon ever mention him) approaches you with a low wolf whistle. His hands find your waist before you can even comprehend what’s happening, pulling you close to his chest.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” You freeze, and disgust starts to bubble up inside of you. You plant your hand on his chest in an attempt to pull away in fear that Simon would witness this and think differently. Before you could say to leave you alone, a voice booms out. A voice you know too well.

“Y/N!” Simon takes three strides and he was near enough to pull the recruit away from you and land a punch. Scandalous gasps went around while the yells of other members went inaudible to you. You stood there in horror as Price stepped in, pushing Ghost away and yelling to stand down. This was not your Simon. Your Simon would never be this violent in front of you— he was too scared to frighten you and do something to push you away. These weren’t the same hands carried you as if a delicate flower he plucked as well. The hands that routinely offers to brush your hair every night and washes you every sex session while he kisses your shoulders, showering you with endless praise with a voice filled with adoration.

Ghost whips his head. His cold stare made you falter, taking a step back. Something you never thought you’d do when faced with him. You could see his mask move, undoubtedly hiding his disappointment and furrowed eyebrows.

“What are you doing here?” He seethes, roughly gripping your arm tight enough to leave a bruise.

“I-I... I wanted to see you—“ Before you could even finish, Ghost groans with frustration. “I fucking told you to not come to the base. Were you even thinking? Use that pea-sized brain of yours once in a while! Just.. leave me alone and go home.”

Silence. The whole base quiets down with his words, a tense atmosphere building up. You freeze. From the corner of your eye, you notice Price’s contort with concern and hesitation if he should meddle.

The pain you felt was indescribable. It was as if Ghost took your heart and crushed it with his bare hands. Your breathing got labored, your eyes flicked down, taking deep breaths to hold back tears. Before the realization has fully settled, you pull away from Ghost, mumbling something incoherent. In that moment, Ghost knew he fucked up. He hurt his darling flower. He hurt the only person he treasured. The person that stayed with him through thick and thin. The person he married, vowed in front of God to love forever and to never hurt.

“No, baby— I didn’t mean to—“

You cut him off, telling him you were going back just like he wanted. You didn’t even call it your home. You always do. Saying it with pride to have something to call home with him.

God, what has he done?

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: dare I say this man needs a break :} Second part is out. Little detail: I use ‘Simon’ during Y/N’s pov and Ghost for the rest, but used Ghost for her after he yelled at her. :3

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #simon riley x you #simon riley cod #light angst #ghost mw2 #ghost angst #ghost fic #simon ghost x you #canary’s melodies

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 8 months

Text

call my name and i’ll come running ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.

word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight

a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.

“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.

usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.

but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found.

you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world.

and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.

“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”

satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing.

but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.

it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.

but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.

but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.

that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.

and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.

you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.

so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.

and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.

at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.

and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.

you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.

so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.

a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”

“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”

satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell.

so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.

”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”

satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.

he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.

he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy.

satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.

and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.

just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting.

all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?

(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)

satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now.

in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.

you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?

“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”

satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.

“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”

you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.

— and so the cup overflows.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.

but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything.

so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room.

you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.

it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.

satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.

a moment passes.

then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.

satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.

(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)

he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.

satoru sighs.

he really pissed you off, huh?

(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)

it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.

and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad.

he just wanted to make you laugh.

was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.

more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.

he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.

it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.

he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?

satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.

your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.

everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation.

you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all.

and it only increases your growing frustration.

you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.

a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.

you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.

because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.

he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.

but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.

it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.

a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.

every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.

so that’s exactly what you do.

before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.

(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)

the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.

an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.

for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude.

— it doesn’t last, though.

“you alone?”

a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.

hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over.

oh fuck no.

great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.

“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.

at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.

but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.

god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?

thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.

“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.

in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.

how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help.

and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.

satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception.

you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.

so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.

back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself.

he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up.

you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.

entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.

with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible.

this time, however, he does falter slightly.

he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?

satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.

(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)

“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”

you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.

you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.

“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”

there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.

something is wrong, his senses alert him.

“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”

the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”

“where are you?”

satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot.

he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.

“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”

you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”

satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”

you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.”

the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”

“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.

“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.

“can you tell me what you see, baby?”

“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?”

satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?”

you blink.

of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before?

“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”

following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.

satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”

you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.

“yeah,” you gulp.

satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”

focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point.

you swallow a shaky breath.

“thanks, toru.”

a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small.

this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him.

but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.

so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.

the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared.

but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.

“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.

a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.

“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”

“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”

it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side.

(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)

“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”

you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.”

and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.

because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you.

and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.

(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)

but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.

the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.

and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away.

as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.

your eyes meet his.

with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure.

an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps.

you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.

satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.

he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world.

and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.

satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.

finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.

the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.

all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.

”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”

the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.

you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.

and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.

the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.

satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.

then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.

and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.

the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer —

but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.

and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —

satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much.

and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.

(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)

— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more.

so he’ll focus on you, entirely.

he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings.

his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.

satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.

your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.

you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable.

you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.

satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?”

his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.

squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.

”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”

there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.

you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

but you just can’t stop crying.

when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.

”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

satoru stills.

then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head.

his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.

(“you’re not even listening.”)

yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.

an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something.

it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.

next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.

because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are.

if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.

satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.

“i’m sorry.”

you blink.

for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.

”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.”

he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.

“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath.

he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.

”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.”

you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece.

“so please don’t cry.”

this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours.

your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.

”okay?”

such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.

he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained.

(he was so, so worried.)

blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.

so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”

satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin.

but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed.

(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)

now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.

all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.

you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.

“sure you’re okay now, baby?”

you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”

“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn.

your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.

you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?”

“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”

satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering.

so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately.

when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute.

“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.

satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.

the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.

“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star.

“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”

satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”

his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”

the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.

but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.

all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”

satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.

“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”

satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”

“still,” you pout. satoru giggles.

“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”

you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”

satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.

“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”

this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.

a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.

satoru notices, and gets an idea.

“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?”

when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.

so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his.

”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”

satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting.

your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what.

you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.

”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”

there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.

satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that.

so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.

he’ll always be there when you need him.

#NOBODY LOOK AT MEEEEE i was having a gojo moment ok.#i just think hes. the perfect man. a silly goofy princess 98% of the time but when u need him to be there hes so comforting n secure.#i Need him.#also obsessed w the idea of gojo only calling u ’honey’ when hes being particularly sincere like that does smth to me man.#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader

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screampied · 21 days

Note

heyy vaygas how u doin babes?

first of, LOVE your work!!! the dads friend fic? can’t get over it, still did not recover!

can i ask for a mean dom nanami that makes you squirt through your panties and bullies u for it? 🥺 while enjoying himself as well hehe like “look at the mess u made/how messy u are” vibes

thx 💗

❤︎ ໋𓈒 nanami making you squirt for the first time.

warnings. fem! reader, praise, tried making him mean but he’s still soft :>, squirtin, dirty talk, talking you through it, mdni. an. 'm good!! thank u sm!

“make you do what, sweetheart?” he’d murmur right up against your ear. you felt a chill run up your spine the moment he presses a soft kiss near the inside corner of your neck. he was so gentle with his touch, you laid back against him with your legs practically parted—sprawled all open. “tell me what you want from me. talk to me nice.”

a near pout stretched against the corners of your lips before you reply with a sigh, “i- i want you to make me squirt again,” and you dragged out your words just a tad bit. his body heat behind you was immensely hot, warm even. “can never do it right by myself.”

“ah. course you can’t,” he purrs in a low melodic soothing tone. nanami’s fingers strum against the outer part of your panties and your breath achingly hitches. “say pretty please. use those manners, sweetheart. taught you well, did i not?”

he was practically insufferable, although he always did like the sound of your voice. “pretty please,” you reply with a quickness, feeling your knees merely buckle. he was a tease, brushing a few fingers near the middle part of your underwear. “pretty please, i want you to make a mess out of me.”

“atta girl,” he whispers, kissing the back of your forehead. and that’s the moment when he gently squeezes near your thigh, uttering out a playful. “now lie back ‘n i’ll do just that.”

“can i— may i take off my panties?” you breathe, moaning once he gingerly brings his right hand to softly grip near your breasts.

he grazes a thumb to run against your perky nipple before giving it a nice squeeze. he finds it cute, the way you’re so helplessly needy, squirming all against him just so he can start. your entire head was clouded, you hold in a sharp breath before a whine skims past your lips.

“nooo, darling,” he denies you, and that was probably the most sweetest ‘no’ you’ve ever been told before. his other hand that resided between your thighs starts to softly create strokes against your clit. he hums, feeling the nearly faded dampened spot, oh how soaked you were. “good girls get their panties removed. we aren’t past that part yet, are we not?”

you pout, another sweetened sigh leaving out of you. “but i said pretty please.”

“and i heard you the first time, my love,” he says, and you whimper once he feels all over your chest. his rough fingers had such a softness to it, you hadn’t even realized how prematurely soaked you were. it was a bit of playful sass to his tone, you swallow before rubbing the back of your head against his chest. “now. let me make you my messy girl as promised, ‘n i’ll think about removing this pretty panties, okay?”

“… okay.”

nanami lowly chuckles, and you lean back against him the moment he starts to create a bit of stimulation against your clit.

“oh, don’t be so disappointed,” and he starts slow strokes. deep filthy strokes, you wanted for him to just remove your panties … but alas, that wouldn’t happen just yet. nanami created a plethora of chaste kisses near the inner part of your neck whilst your legs twitch in pleasure. you were far too sensitive, moaning each time his tongue softly drags against the sweet soft parts of your neck. you were addicting, equivalent to a drug. nanami loved to kiss up and down your neck, leave all kinds of marks only for him to see. “you want me to go rougher? ‘s that why you keep whining?”

“p-please,” you concur, with a needy nod, feeling him bring a hand near your neck now. thick fingers swiftly of his wrap until you wear his hand that went around your throat like a necklace.

you wanted him to just be a tad bit rougher, just a little. you loved him being gentle, you did. but you also liked when he’d be a little mean. the times where nanami would come home from work stressed and full of fatigue. letting him taking everything out on your sweet pussy, his ultimate cure for stress relief. he was forever grateful for you. “more, kento. ‘wan more, choke me harder.”

his hand that went around your throat had a firm grip to it, a thumb of his softly swipes down the middle part of your throat and he turns your head for a kiss. you were panting heavily, each dramatic breath that left your mouth only grew substantially louder. “such a nasty fuckin’ girl. can feel you pulse all through your panties, sweetheart.”

“kento,” you’d whimper, reaching down to touch his wrist — but he lightly smacks it, earning a sweet whine from you.

“nuh uh. no touching. ‘s only for my hands,” he husks, making his strokes against your panties go ten times faster, the tempo was so vigorous that your moans became even more vocal. “silly girl. did you forget already? you have to ask to touch yourself.”

swallowing an invisible thick lump, you mewl out a sweet, “can i—”

“no baby,” he chortles, finding it cute at your attempt to even ask directly after the fact. nanami could essentially hear the pout curl amongst your lips before your eyebrows form into a perturbed adorable furrow. you were coming close, you knew that very much all too well.

it was coming at such a high chasing pace that you could barely keep up with your own breaths. even at his attempt of being ‘mean’ he was still so sweet. he couldn’t help it, especially if it was with you.

pathetically so, you felt yourself twitching within his hold. nanami’s hand that went around your throat softly massages the part where you breathe, he could feel the candied vibrations of your own moans leave out every few seconds. it was his favorite sound, forevermore his favorite tune to even hear.

“close, are you?” he simpers, and he’s using his entire hand at this point, maneuvering such rough circles against your clit. the cloth of your panties that protected it made you pout, you desperately yearned for it to just be taken off already. “mhm. wait, be quiet for a sec.”

all that could be heard was the sound of your cute exasperated breaths and the squelches that came from your soaked pussy. the fabric of your underwear was thin, basically shielding hardly anything.

“listen to her with me,” he whispers against your neck, referring to your pussy. he’s coating you with various more kisses to make you twitch and throb for more. “she’s needy for me. sloppy ‘n everything, so desperate to make a fuckin’ mess on her husband.”

“k-kentooo,” you’d moan, and his hand that was wrapped around your throat shifts its attention back towards your chest. he squeezes your right tit, massaging all around it before prodding a thumb against your nipple. “f-fuck i feel it.”

your orgasm gradually builds up, it’s like a wave that continued to rise and rise.

your thighs, even your legs began to quaver and by now, you were all slumped up against nanami. his words went straight towards your cunt, ringing all through your ears. even his dirty talk was bittersweet, rich and simply enchanting. “come on,” he sighs lowly, feeling himself start to get hard just from your pleasure. “give it to me. be a good nasty girl ‘n let go on me.”

everything came on a whim, your legs felt so numb and shook before whether moments—you felt yourself finally release.

a sudden slick gush runs out of you, and your panties were even more soaked now. you felt so flushed. the stupidest expression on your face, hooded eyes, maw dangled open as you’re panting heavily … it was a sight.

the dampened spot near the entrance of your underwear was so cute. he chuckles, strumming a thumb against that specific spot while you’re riding out your orgasm, legs vigorously still shaking from impact.

“…my oh my,” he sings, and that’s when he finally pulls your panties towards the side. nanami runs a finger down your slit before giving it a playful pinch just to hear you whimper out. “what a mess.”

“such a messy girl i’ve got myself here,” he continues, and then he slowly sinks a finger into your folds. “mhm. do you wanna be even messier for me though? we can always try it again, without the panties this time, my love.”

#★vegasbaby.#nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort.

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him.

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold.

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low.

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind.

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight.

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simin ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost #cod ghost #ghost call of duty

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