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#I’m im already so far behind in my writing
hogans-heroes · 2 years
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ferrstappen · 10 months
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max, the wag (for the third time) l Max Verstappen x reader
a/n: i was in the middle of writing this when news of Danny coming back to the grid!!! omg I'm so happy of seeing RIC and listening to his radios and everything, it wasn't the same without him <3
also, about requests. Please keep sending them, I've LOVED all the reqs I've gotten but right now im getting ready for my bar exam in a couple of weeks so my time is super super limited, but I promise I'll get to most of them (bc imsorry there are some reqs that I really can't connect with) after the exam, it's one of the things I'm looking forward to <3 but for now this kind of mediocre story telling will have to do...
ANYWAY, HOPE YOU LIKE THIS INSTALLMENT! you can find part 1 and 2 on the master list <3
summary: the continuation of your favorite paddock couple.
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Max arrived to the track by himself.
If he was being honest, it wasn’t on his plans to walk alone with the photographers, Red Bull marketing team snatching him for stuff right after he swapped his credential. Even from far away he was able to hear chants of fans and more media than usual. 
But you weren’t right there next to him. 
He knew it wasn’t your fault, Silverstone not being a track where he was usually welcomed with opened arms and he was aware of you not wanting to be too in the eye of photographers who didn’t make questions to you, but there still were different WAGs and outfits or whatever accounts tracking your every step, especially with the new wave of partners and sudden break ups and polemics. 
Still, the selfish part of him wanted you to enter the track with him, even if it was a few steps ahead or behind him, holding your hand and smiling as you complained about the amount of credentials you had to carry: the usual green VIP Paddock, Red Bull something. You’d think after all these years they’d know me, you’d say and he’d laugh.
On the other hand, you finished getting ready and called the front desk to get a taxi to get there, feeling a bit guilty of letting Max go on his own, especially when there were more eyes on the track with Brad Pitt being there and a lot of important people who’d want to talk with him all day. 
Texting Max to let him know you were already by the guests entrance waiting when you noticed some intense flashes getting near. You’d been around a time or two to know this wasn’t usual, maybe in Miami but not when you were on the abandoned back entrance, not very glamorous and low key. 
But you saw her…
Shakira, are you visiting Lewis?
Who are you cheering today?
Shakira, third Grand Prix of the year! 
Did you talk to Lewis before? Is he nervous?
Your eyes followed her, mouth opening when you followed her small frame, exuding class and sympathy, even Alexandra who was also making her entrance stopped to get a closer look of the Colombian bombshell. 
Of course, they didn’t ask her to show and get accredited, she just walked by with a radiant smile leaving paparazzi behind as she kept talking with the friend she came with. 
But wasn’t that a Haas credential?
It didn’t matter, it wasn’t important, because right then your brain made the connections and started dialing Max while nervously biting your polished nails. 
“Baby, everything okay? Are you already inside?” Max answered, but his words were quiet and rushed. 
“Yes, but you’re never going to believe…”
“I’m sorry we have a meeting, please don’t go to the paddock, go straight to the driver’s lounge, okay? Love you” 
He hung up and you wanted to pull your hair out, knowing he is the one and only person you wanted to share this information with, and you were also certain he was the only person who would truly appreciate the gossip and speculation about his fellow driver’s love life. 
Max was able to leave the meeting almost forty minutes later, getting outside for some air until he remembered your call and that you probably were bored to death on the lounge. He was turning around to go there when…
When he saw the one and only Shakira in all of her glory. 
He wasn’t starstruck or anything, being immune to celebrities and the imaginary pedestal where most people placed them, but this wasn’t about that, it was about the way she was supposedly hiding under a cap walking towards the Mercedes garage.
He covered his mouth and hastily made his way to you. 
You didn’t greet each other with the usual peck on the lips and short hug; his slightly widened blue eyes told you exactly what you needed to know as he opened the door to his small room. 
“Please tell me that you saw her!” You said as soon as he closed the door. 
“Yes, just now she was walking to Mercedes,” Max was whisper shouting as if someone would hear him and it was the highest of secrets. 
“Did you see Lewis?” You asked Max but he said no. “What if you try to ask Brad Pitt if he saw her and like if they’re friends… with Shakira?” This time both you and your boyfriend laughed at the idea.
"I did see Sainz trying to go unnoticed with a tall brunette,do you think she is the new girlfriend?" Max asked and you nodded.
"I'm pretty sure he cheated on Isa with her, and I am almost certain she was in the Paddock Club in Monaco during qualifying," Max whistled at the new information.
Now he kissed you, lips fitting perfectly against each other, but your eyes suddenly opened and separated from him. What? Why? What happened? Max was disconcerted. 
“Please don’t laugh at me because this is a serious idea…” You told Max who had your entire attention. “What if we write to Deuxmoi?”
“Deux what?”
“They have all the inside scoops  and sightings, even your name’s popped up once or twice,” Max’s eyebrows rose at the information. “We should write that Shakira was seen on the British Grand Prix and I am one hundred percent sure someone will have more information!” You proposed and Max chuckled.
“Schatz, I can just ask Lewis why she’s here,” Max told you before embracing you, his arms circled around your waist.
You rolled your eyes before resting your head on his chest, but suddenly it hit you, swiftly lifting your head and facing Max. 
“Then why haven’t you asked him yet?!”
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flowerxbunnie · 5 months
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since im like i love w/ ur writing can u PLEASE do nate smut??
idk what but like please
-💋anon
Camping
Nathan Doe x Fem reader
Warnings: angst kinda, SMUTTTT
DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR
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I’ve been friends with the triplets since I can remember. We’ve been on so many family trips in our time growing up together; beach vacations, skiing, boating. Never did I ever think I would agree to go camping with them.
But here we are in the mountains, setting up our tents and gear. It’s us four and Nate for three days, living out of tents and stuck with no cell service. It’s not exactly my idea of a fun time, but Matt loves the outdoors and Nick and Chris seemed super excited to get away for a while too.
“Pass me another stake, this one won’t go in the fucking ground!” Chris yells from across the jumbled up pile of fabric that we’re struggling to turn into a tent for him and Matt.
“This one is the exact same,” I laugh while grabbing another one out of the package and toss it his way. “But there ya go, have at it kid.”
He grabs it and replaces the one he had been trying to get in at first, this one going into the ground on his first attempt. He shoots me a teasing grin and sticks his tongue out like a little kid, earning a laugh from me in return.
“Maybe you should listen to the boys for once, Y/n,” Nate blurts out, my eyes narrowing in his direction. “Girls weren’t built for these tough woods.” He snickers and tosses a chip into the air before catching it in his mouth.
I turn my attention back to straightening out the fabric in front of me. “Maybe you should make yourself useful and put together your tent. How about that, Nate?” I shoot back without looking at him, my nerves getting more shot with each annoying thing he does. It’s been a fucking day already.
“It was a joke, damn. Someone’s panties are in a wad.” He laughs his smug laugh and I hear Nick quietly scold him.
He’s always been so immature. I deal with him because the boys love him, but if I had it my way I wouldn’t ever be in the same room as him. He just knows what buttons to press to piss me off and make me want to pull my hair out. He thinks it’s so funny to make jokes about me being a helpless, dumb girl, and that is far from the truth. Even if it’s just joke, why keep going if nobody else is laughing?
We spend what feels like hours getting the three tents set up, positioning them next to a little creek. The sound of the water is going to be incredibly nice once I finally get to wind down for bed. For now Matt is setting up a little fire in a pit so we can make some s’mores.
I walk to the back of the van and open the trunk, grabbing two of the fold up chairs we brought and start carrying them towards the fire pit. Nick sees me doing it alone and rushes to help, grabbing two more out of the trunk and trailing behind me.
“Thank you Nicky, there should be one more in the ba-” I cut myself off with a squeal, feeling fingers digging into my sides causing both of my chairs to crash onto the ground.
I whip around and Nate is behind me, a devious grin on his face and his hands up in defense.
“That didn’t even tickle, asshole. It hurt.” I spit at him, leaning down to pick the chairs back up.
“Not my fault you’re sensitive.” He laughs, retreating to the van to grab the other chair.
“I don’t know what his problem is, Y/n. I’m sorry. We can go somewhere fun just us once this trip is over to make up for it!” Nick apologizes, speeding up to walk beside me.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m still having fun with you three.” I smile, opening up the chairs and spacing them out beside the fire pit.
Matt finally gets the fire going and Chris gets back from his adventure of finding some nice sticks for roasting marshmallows. We claim our seats and sit around as the sun goes down, feasting on s’mores and listening to Chris ramble.
“No dude, I swear. I heard the footsteps behind me,” he says with wide eyes. “I was sprinting so fast to get back here.”
“There was not a fucking bear stalking you. We would have seen it.” Matt rolls his eyes, adding a piece of chocolate to his graham cracker.
“Not if it was stalking!” He takes a bite, marshmallow sticking to his cheek. “That’s like… the whole point of stalking,” he talks with his mouth full, “to be secretive.”
“Bro that would have been a cool story to be honest.” Nate chimes in, holding his marshmallow in the flames until it catches fire.
“Nate!” Nick says in a warning tone, his eyes widening as Nate pulls it out of the flames and starts whipping the stick around.
Nate stands up and starts doing a dance with the flaming marshmallow on top, carelessly lashing it back and forth. He runs in circles around our chairs, laughing as he holds it over my head tauntingly. Before I can even register what has happened, oozing hot marshmallow drops down straight onto my chest, a throbbing burn stinging my skin even through my t-shirt. I yelp and curse in pain and try brush it off with my fingers which proves to be no help, the stickiness makes it almost impossible.
“What the fuck bro?” Chris raises his voice at Nate, quickly standing up to help me brush the remnants away.
“I didn’t know it would drip..” he says while holding back a laugh, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.
Tears well in my eyes from the pain and I try to choke them back, pulling my neckline down to see a red welt already blistering up onto my skin. “Fuck you.” I direct at Nate, making eye contact with him as I stand up to head over to Matt’s backpack in his tent. It’s uncomfortably quiet, the only sound being the trickling of the water, the crackling fire and my feet stomping on the leaves.
I unzip the door and rummage through the backpack before finding the first aid kit, jumping when I fear the fabric rustling. Matt’s head pops in and he leans down so his head doesn’t hit the top of the opening. “You need some help?”
I nod and feel a hot tear fall down my cheek, brushing it away quickly as Matt digs through his kit for burn cream. I sit criss cross and he kneels down in front of me, sighing as he brushes my hair back and pulls my collar down. “He got you good, but it didn’t break the skin thankfully.” He swipes an alcohol wipe over it and cleans it up, using a swab to apply some cream. “All better?”
I nod and reach my arms out, sinking into his embrace. “Why does he hate me?” I speak quietly.
“Oh Y/n,” he laughs, “he doesn’t. He’s just immature. He doesn’t know when to stop.”
“Well it feels like he does. Haven’t even been through one night and he’s already getting on my last nerve.”
He pulls back and gives me a knowing look before standing up, holding his hand out and helping me to my feet. “I’ll talk to him. Just try to enjoy your time, okay? Don’t let him ruin your trip.”
I smile in appreciation of Matt and our friendship. I give him a nod and a peck on the cheek, jumping when Nate speaks up.
“The fuck?”
Matt and I snap our heads to him, his tall frame standing in the opening of the tent with a puzzled look on his face.
“What?” I snap, seething with anger. “Can’t even get five minutes away from you, huh?”
He raises an eyebrow and gives us a suggestive look.
“Nate, stop being fucking weird. Y/n is like my sister. Get your ass in here.” Matt demands, guiding me out of the tent and back to Nick and Chris, Nate bumping my shoulder as we cross paths.
The rest of the night is peaceful. Matt and Nate eventually came back to join us in our exchange of campfire stories, a grin across Matt’s face as he takes the seat next to me. We take turns talking about all things spooky, paranormal, conspiracy theories, you name it. When it circles around to Nate for his turn, he shakes his head and sits back in his seat. He remains quiet and standoffish for the rest of the night, engaging in conversation as little as he can.
It’s pitch black and the fire is dwindling down when Nick announces he’s going to head to bed, collecting the sticks and tossing them into the flames.
“Same here, Matt come with me so you don’t wake me up with that loud ass zipper later.” Chris ruffles Matt’s hair and gets pushed away playfully.
“I’ll be in there in a bit,” Nate looks at Nick. “I’ll keep a watch on the fire ‘til it goes out.”
Nick nods and retreats off to their tent, zipping it shut.
“Don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Chris yells as he sprints towards his tent, and Matt mouths ‘help me’ as he scoots in behind him.
The awkwardness in the air is thick and palpable, neither me or Nate uttering a word as the crickets chirp around us. He pokes and prods at the fire, sparks floating off into the air as he moves the remaining logs around. I watch, almost hypnotized by the embers and shake my head, snapping back to reality. As I look up I swear I catch his dark blue eyes looking into mine for a fraction of a second. I huff and stand up, brushing the crumbs off my shirt before I turn around to make my way to my tent.
I zip myself in and do the best skin routine I can do while camping, cleansing my face with wipes and applying my travel moisturizer and serums. I change into a tank top and sleep shorts, happy with the idea of being a little cold while I sleep.
I flip on my portable reading light and set it up beside my air mattress, grabbing a book to read to lull myself to sleep. The soft light is ambient and relaxing along with the steady trickling of the stream just behind my tent.
I read for a while, snug under my blanket and dozing off every couple minutes as my eyes trace across the pages. I hear rustling outside my tent, setting my book down as I listen closer. What if Chris was right and there is a bear stalking us from somewhere beyond the tree line? I jump and gasp as I hear tapping on my door, the fabric rippling and moving around.
“Knock knock…” a deep voice rings out just loud enough for me to hear.
The zipper starts moving around the arch of the entrance, falling down to reveal Nate’s figure standing outside.
“Can I come in?” He whispers.
“Uhh.. I’d rather you didn’t.” I groan and pick my book back up, trying to bring my focus back to the love story in front of me.
“Please? I’ll be quick.” He pleads, dipping his head farther in the tent.
I look up as the light catches on his face, and I can see the dip of his cheekbones, his jaw clenching lightly as he takes a deep breath.
“Fine. Make it snappy.” I concede, sitting up and drawing my legs to my chest instinctively, almost as an effort to protect myself.
I hear the zipper of the door being closed and feel the air mattress dip as he sits on the edge, a good distance still between us. He brings one leg up to rest on the bed and the other hangs down to the ground, nervously kicking back and forth. We sit for a minute without speaking, neither of us wanting to be the first to break the silence. He coughs and clears his throat, urging me to look his way.
“How’s the.. burn?” He asks as his eyes flick down to my chest and back up quickly.
“Really fucking painful.” I state matter of factly, exaggerating to try and make him feel bad.
He breathes out and closes his eyes, an apologetic look written across his face as he opens them again. “Look, Y/n, I’m sor-”
“You don’t have to do this.” I interrupt him, my tone full of annoyance. “I don’t want a half assed apology.”
“Let me talk.. please?” He asks calmly, pulling his other leg up onto the mattress.
I sigh and nod, playing with my fingers that are still interlocked around my legs.
“Y/n. I’m actually really fucking sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he looks down and shakes his head before looking back up, licking his lips. “I just d-don’t know how to..” he stammers, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Go on..” I huff, ready to dive back into my book and sleep this night away.
“Can I just see the burn?” He asks hesitantly, a shaking hand reaching up to toy with my fingers.
I swallow back a gasp as the heat of his hand radiates against mine, his soft fingers guiding mine to unlock. His eyes are filled with a softness, an innocence that I’ve never seen before. I release my grip and allow my knees to fall down from my chest, exposing the wound he left on me hours before. It’s nothing major, just a red welt filled with lingering heat. His shoulders slump as he scans over it, his eyes showing remorse as they meet mine again.
“It’s already a lot better.” I admit, regretting the harsh tone I had used earlier when I lied to him about it still being painful.
“Can I?” He asks softly, reaching a hand toward my chest.
I give him a hesitant nod as my cheeks burn, scared he’ll be able to feel my heart pounding in my chest. My blood burns hot as it courses through my body, a visceral reaction to the distance closing between us. His fingertips graze over it with a feather light touch, so soft it’s like he’s almost not touching me at all. He lingers for a moment, his eyes shutting as he shifts his position to be directly in front of me. His hand drops down, landing on my bare calf as his eyes flash up to mine again.
“I just don’t know how to act around you, Y/n.” He is barely audible as his hand squeezes my leg.
“W-what are you talking about, Nate?”
“I just..” his hand inches up to my knee. “I think I make a fool of myself to try and impress you.”
I shake my head, convinced this is just a weird dream that I’m having and I’ll wake up to the same annoying Nate that makes me want to claw at my skin. I can’t help but feel my stomach flip with the way he’s opening up to me.
“I’m serious. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you since we were in school together.” His fingers trail up my inner thigh, the rough pads against my skin causing a heat to rush between my thighs.
“Nathan… I-”
“Fuck.” He mumbles under his breath. “You can’t call me that, Y/n.”
“Why not?” I ask in a whisper, my better judgement taking over as I place my hand on top of his own, leading it higher up my thigh.
His breath hitches as he looks down and sees that he’s millimeters away from the hem of my shorts. “Makes me feel some type of way..” he trails off, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat as he gulps.
“What kind of way, Nathan?” I ask lowly, batting my eyes at him and feigning innocence as I scoot closer.
“Stop it. Don’t start something you can’t finish.” He warns, starting to draw his hand back.
I tighten my grip on his hand and move it higher, pushing the tips of his fingers under the hem and biting my lip. “Who said I don’t feel the same?”
It’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. He brings his free hand to my face and caresses it lightly, still a little hesitant but with a hungry look in his eyes. He moves his face closer to mine, hot breath fanning against me as his pink lips ghost over mine.
“Are you sure?” He asks seriously.
“I’m positive.” I answer, closing the distance and taking the opportunity to make the first move.
Our lips mesh together, working against each other slowly. His hand moves to my jaw, fingers resting against the nape of my neck as we kiss like it’s the only thing we know how to do. He pulls away and places a few quick pecks on my lips before diving back in, moving both hands to my hips. He pulls me closer and I take the hint, throwing a leg over him and straddling his lap, never disconnecting our lips. His big hands roam my body, squeezing and grabbing hungrily as he swipes his tongue over my bottom lip. I open my mouth and our tongues synchronize, exploring the parts we’ve both secretly longed for. The kiss is both passionate and filled with lust, low moans breathed into each other’s mouths.
He pulls back and scans my face, his pupils rapidly dilating as he drags his gaze down to my chest. My nipples have caught up with my arousal, becoming taut against the fabric of my tank top. He brings his mouth down and places a kiss on each one through my shirt, a whine escaping my lips at the sensation. He reaches up and places a tender kiss to the burn on my chest, careful not to be too rough.
His hands trail up my hips before moving up and pulling down on the neckline of my top, my breasts spilling out inches from his face.
“So perfect.” He whispers against my skin while placing kisses spanning across my chest.
My head falls back and I grip into his soft hair, pulling on it and earning a low groan. His tongue circles my left nipple before he latches onto it, sucking slowly as his blue eyes lock onto mine. I push his hair out of his forehead as he switches to the other nipple, flicking his tongue across it before sucking a little more harshly.
I can feel him growing beneath me, his erection pressing against my clothed core. I instinctively grind down against it, causing his lips to stall on my nipple and a low moan to escape his throat. He bucks up for more, his throbbing dick providing a delicious pressure against me. His hands leave my body and he pulls his shirt off, leaning back on his hands, propped up and staring at me intently. His defined torso is etched out in the light, a sheen of sweat over his skin despite the cool night air.
“Fuck.. just keep grinding… please.” He pleads, squirming his hips.
I do as I’m told, my hands reaching up to pull my own tank top over my head as I move back and forth on him. I reach down and run my fingers across his stomach, the rippling muscles tensing beneath my fingers as I circle my hips. His face contorts with pleasure, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I can’t help the little whimpers that fall past my lips, my core now dripping with need. The layers of clothing between us do nothing to stop the feeling of his rock hard erection against my clit.
“Nathan.. I need it.” I pant and start loosening the tie on his sweatpants.
“Stand up baby. Let me undress you.” He demands as he guides me to my feet and sits up on the edge of the mattress.
My stomach flutters at the new pet name and at the fact that his lips are now placing hot kisses across the tender fleshy skin. He inches lower, lips grazing against my waistband as he hooks his fingers into them. He looks up at me again with a questioning look, almost as if asking me to confirm I want this for a final time. I nod furiously and he slowly inches the shorts down until they pool around my ankles. He traces the fabric of my underwear lightly before pulling them down, my body now completely exposed in the soft light of my reading lamp. He removes his own pants and boxers in one motion, his dick springing up and a whine falling past his lips at the freeing feeling.
“Now get back on,” he says while resuming his propped up position, “I like seeing your tits in my face.”
The dirty words make my stomach flip. I climb back on top of him, my dripping pussy sliding up across his length, my core clenching in response. I repeat it a few times, gripping onto his shoulders as I slide back and forth across his cock feeling every vein running across its surface. He grips his base with one hand as I lift up, lining himself up with my entrance. I sink down, feeling my walls stretch around him as I take him inch by inch.
“So tight, fuck..” he groans, hips stuttering and resisting the urge to shove all the way into me.
“Y-you’re so big, Nathan.” I whimper, pain turning into pleasure as I begin to loosen up and sink completely down.
“Don’t flatter me, baby.” He smirks and brings a thumb to his mouth, licking it and bringing it down to rub my clit.
I moan out and immediately stop myself, worried about waking the boys who are just a couple thin fabric walls away from us. Nate shushes me and rubs back and forth tantalizingly slow, his pressure rough. I start to bounce up and down on him, gripping onto the arm that’s still propping himself up. The muscles are flexed and hard, and his tanned skin is clammy beneath my fingertips.
His finger leaves my clit and reaches up to pinch my nipple, rolling and tugging on it as I ride him. We’re both panting and holding back our sounds, swallowing them down before they have the chance to escape. His eyes are fully blown out as he bites onto his lip.
“N-Nathan please.. touch me again.” I whisper, sinking down to take all of him back inside and rolling my hips.
“You like when I play with your clit?” He asks with a smug grin before bringing his thumb back down, rubbing faster this time.
“U-uh.. mhm… fuck.” I can barely form words, the pleasure making my brain cloudy.
My thighs burn as I bounce up and down, feeling his swollen tip brush against my walls with every movement. He starts to buck his hips up along with my movements, pushing himself impossibly deep into my core. I taste iron in my mouth as I bite onto my bottom lip, desperate to keep my moans contained. A pressure is building in my lower stomach as he toys with me, his index finger inching its way to my clit to roll it between his thumb.
In the blink of an eye he’s on top of me, his chain dangling over my face. He hooks one of his arms around my thigh and pushes it up against my stomach, the other sprawled out to the side. His other arm props himself up above me, his veins lining his arms and straining underneath his skin.
He pushes into me and curses fall out of his mouth as he begins to pump in and out. His hips slap against my skin rhythmically, my breasts bouncing with each impact. Each thrust brings me closer to the edge as head brushes repeatedly against my g spot.
“I’m close, baby. F-fuck.. wanna cum in you so bad..” he groans, his head falling down into my neck.
I lean over and hover my lips by his ear. “Please, Nathan..” I almost beg, my pussy starting to clench around him already.
My pleas send him over the edge, his dick twitching as he shoots his load into me. He pushes all the way in as he paints my walls, and the sensation brings me to my own climax. My stomach clenches as I throb around him, his name falling out of my lips over and over. We moan out together as we ride through our releases, my hands clawing down his back as I arch up off the bed against him. He falls down on top of me, my breath hitching at the feeling of his dick sliding out, still so sensitive from my climax.
“Oh my god.” He pants out as he rolls over to lay down beside me.
My head is swimming and my entire body is pulsing. I look over and place a soft kiss against his lips, too tired to even think about talking right now.
We lay together for a while, drinking in the bliss and caressing each other with soft hands. He eventually gets up to rummage through my bags, finding a pack of baby wipes. He tenderly cleans me up before grabbing a new one and cleans himself off. We redress and he plops back down into the mattress.
“As much as I would love to sleep in here..” he starts, leaving the statement open ended.
“I know. It’s okay.” I smile and pull him closer, brushing the hair out of his eyes.
He melts against me and cuddles against my chest. Time feels slow as we listen to the babbling creek and the crickets chirping in the woods.
A different kind of chirping causes me to shoot my eyes open, panic flooding in as I see the light through the tent and Nate’s chest rising and falling underneath my blanket. I hit his chest and he jumps, his eyes flying open and the same panicked look written across his face.
“What are we gonna do?” I whisper, rubbing my hands across my face.
“Hey.” He grabs my hands, pulling them away from my face. “I’ll just sneak into my tent and go to sleep next to Nick like I was supposed to.”
I nod frantically and lay down, faking sleep as he presses a kiss against my hair and hurries to undo the zipper on the door.
“Fuck.” He mumbles.
“What, Nathan?” I sit up, scanning around to see what he’s so worried about.
To our surprise, all three boys sit around the fire pit with a flame already blazing, cups of hot chocolate in their hands as they smirk and laugh over at us.
“You guys have fun last night?”
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This is going to be very long and sound a little crazy at first, and maybe a little mean but please hear me out…
I’m convinced that Taylor sometimes purposefully includes one line or multiple lines of poorly written or clunky lyrics in specific songs to make a point.
We all have seen some version of this with bearding songs like London Boy, a simple bop whose lyrics were immediately detected as sounding disingenuous, even with the general population (the locations she was signing about were the most touristy and too far away from each other to visit on the same day, etc, basically implying that she doesn’t actually have a long term local bf there that she spends a bunch of time with exploring the city with, etc).
But just like everything else on the album, I think she’s doing maybe a more in your face version of that. No holds barred.
So High School is an obvious example of this, with all of the early 2000’s hs imagery, she seems pretty blatantly to be mocking the idea the public has of her “living out every American girl’s high school fantasy” of dating the tall popular football player. With lyrics like “touch me while your friends play grand theft auto” (barf), etc, shes being clear enough that this is not a serious song.
This is the possibly controversial part, but I’m so curious to see what others think about this - I think another iteration of this on this album is the title track, The Tortured Poets Department. Hear me out.
(First, I want to reassure you that there are lines in this song that I really like and think are well written, like: “you’re in self-sabotage mode/throwing spikes down on the road” and “but you awaken with dread/pounding nails in your head/but I’ve read this one/where you come undone/I chose this cyclone with you”. And I fully agree with the idea that these sentiments are from Karlie’s perspective. Basically, when you take out the chunks I’m about to talk about this song makes way more sense and has a beautiful sentiment of undying love behind it - which makes the following parts stick out that much more!)
The first time I listened through the album, and this was the second song, I got terrified because I didn’t understand its place in the whole narrative and when I heard the first clunky line “scratch your head like a tattooed golden retriever” I got the ick. Then the bridge with no structure and no wit and no clever turns of phrase, no metaphor, just “you put my ring on the finger people put wedding rings on” and “that was the closest I’ve ever been to my heart exploding”. So over simplified and cheesy, and doesn’t sound anything like her writing, especially the caliber of her recent lyrics
I know art is largely subjective, but I insist there is no way that the same person who wrote Cowboy Like Me wrote these lines into her title track if she didn’t have a reason and a point to make. To make it clear that this isn’t a matter of genre personal taste, because I know CLM is a very specific sound and a style that music snobs often take more seriously - I love SO many of her candy pop bangers, they are infinitely more clever, articulate, and overall works of art by a true wordsmith than this. Karma, The Very First Night, etc are all a master classes in clever words and tight writing being tucked into an “unserious” pop song.
The lyrics I cited above to me sound like what haters believe her writing sounds like, even fans who make little jokey TikTok’s about her and make up a spoofy something to sing while in character - that’s what these lyrics sound like.
Im worried im being too harsh, but please stay with me because the more I think about the more genius I think it actually is.
In the context of the themes of rest of the album, (her being trapped, miserable, manipulated, ready to burn it all down, screaming to be seen) this theory became clear to me. I think she’s leaning into her public persona (in more ways than one, we’ve already seen it with the stunting), in a way setting a “trap” for her fans and the public, that will essentially call them all out on how they ignored the real her in favor of her pr narrative, making the album about paternity tests, etc, all of which I’m guessing will become very clear in retrospect, possibly after she comes out? (Of course it’s already clear to us now, which is another purpose of the beard songs including clunky writing - to signal to us that these are not serious and that she knows that we know that she knows (like Phoebe on friends lol))
Ultimately, this is (along with So Highschool) a classic beard song. When she writes in this voice, she embodies the most extreme versions of her public persona, not just the one she has cultivated on purpose, but also the one that people have of her that don���t know her (as she did in Blank Space), including those that don’t take her seriously - because her identity as a boy crazy psycho ex girlfriend is directly tied to people dismissing her art as vapid because, they’ve only ever heard her singles, they don’t know the full her.
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That voice is the straightest, the most boy crazy, the most one note, and sometimes the most unsophisticated writer version of her that people have in their minds, including her fans - the fans that refuse to see her as a whole person, the real, that believe she is head over heals for big football boy, that believe “he knows how to ball, I know Aristotle” is a romantic line about how opposites attract, the fans that say they don’t “get” some of her most beautiful and well-written songs, the fans that don’t see her and haven’t been seeing her.
They didn’t see giant Taylor on the eras tour, they refuse to see all of her queer signaling, etc, and I think she’s making the bearding songs obvious to underscore the difference between her Taylor(TM) and Taylor(person) personas.
She knows that despite the fact that the lyrics don’t even come close to measuring up to the rest of the album, the public, and many of her fans, will make this song one of the most listened to simply because they are looking for evidence of her relationships from the past year. We’ve all commented on how insane it is that this layered, complex, devastating album is being reduced to the usual paternity tests. This is currently one of the top songs precisely because it is “about Matty”. And of course, So High School is one of the tops songs along with it because it’s “about Travis”.
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The juxtaposition of the bearding songs alongside her beautifully written poetry of Prophecy, Peter, Whose Afraid of Little Old Me, Cassandra, How did it end, The Albatross, etc mirrors the juxtaposition of her two selves during the Midnights era.
She has proven the point that if they think she wrote every line of this song completely in earnest, then they see her largely no differently than her haters do, as a subpar writer who writes absurdly cheesy love songs praising trashy to mediocre, problematic men. By eating it up they tell her that’s what she’s good for, for being the subject of tabloids and warring fans who make this entire album about two (purposefully) mediocre songs and the men who “inspired” them.
She has proven her point - that a subset of her fans will be distracted by a lesser song simply because they think it’s about one of the greasy men that’s she been seen holding hands with. That they will ignore once again all of her pleas to be seen, that she’s in pain and caged, and has been driven insane by their willful ignorance. That they don’t appreciate her full potential and talent, that they don’t even see it, and just want to be confirmed in their ideation of her.
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This song is essentially the “forget him(her)” pill at the beginning of the fortnight mv, but it’s a sedative for the fans, who are addicted to her straight narrative. Similar to Willow’s 13 chants of “that’s my man” that started off evermore, casting a spell of heteronormativity over everyone who wanted it, so that they could choose to just completely ignore the following 14 gayest songs ever written. Don’t pay no mind to her singing directly about women with zero male perspective - she said “that’s my man!” We’re good! She’s still straight!
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Taylor in the fortnight mv had to a take a sedative to be able to go into the next room and write her bearding songs - ie she self medicates to deal with keeping up the straight persona and to get through having to release dumbed down songs to feed the masses. (I also see the pill as something forced on her, I think it represents both layers)
From the first time I watched the music video I thought the writing Taylor looked so miserable and the bearding songs are why.
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In this room she’s trapped, churning out the songs that her fans expect of her, the songs that make her team money, the songs that make her money, but that she has to compromise her truth to create.
But when she frees herself she’ll burn the stories that weren’t true, the filler that doesn’t represent her.
I’m curious to hear other’s thoughts on this - have you ever felt like Taylor purposefully inserts off-sounding lyrics that are written in a different voice to make a point?
I want to reiterate that it’s not the entirety of either song that I think is terrible, I genuinely love bopping along to both So High School and TTPD (track). Like I said above, when you remove the clunky lines from ttpd (track), the song has another layer and likely gives voice to some Karlie insight that is beautiful and tragically profound. It’s the red herrings, the pieces specifically meant to tie this song to a bearding narrative, that I’m dissing, and the only reason they are suspicious in the first place is because I know how gifted Taylor is with the written word.
Taylor is such a skilled writer that she can embody the voice of the bad writer that dismissive ignorant idiots believe her to be, just to make a point!
I even wonder if maybe there is a second version of this song locked away in one of those drawers in the fortnight writing room that leaves out the red herrings and is a thousand times better than the bearding version we got.
I hope one day we get to hear it.
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181 notes · View notes
lanadelnegan · 8 months
Note
could you do jdm x male reader? maybe mostly angst and possibly a bit of smut? literally whatever you feel like writing is perfectly fine
You Belong to Me
Negan x Male Reader
Summary: Negan and y/n (Alexandria’s leader) have unspoken feelings for each other, that lead to frustration, anger, and smut.
Warnings: 18+, smut, EXTREMELY FILTHY IM SORRY, anal, rimming, blowjob, spit kink, choking, cum play, angst, negan being a dominant verbal zaddy
Note: I’ll be honest.. I finished this whole thing before I realized you asked for jdm and not negan. 😭 I PROMISE I’ll do a jdm one too. But I hope you also enjoy this one. I think it might be my favorite so far. 😘
Note#2: and I know you asked for a “bit of smut” but I got carried away and well, it’s a lot. And it’s filthy. Forgive me. 🧎‍♀️ I’m terrible at following directions, clearly.
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Your jaw twitches as Negan walks past you, making sure to brush his hand against yours as he happily whistles the melody that's grown to haunt you over the past couple months.
"Come on, y/n. Let's see what kinda goodies you got in the cupboard."
Some bystanders watch as you follow Negan into your own house, allowing him to browse around.. not that you have a choice.
You glare at Negan with your arms crossed while you lean against the frame of your kitchen entrance.
"Who were you before all this?" You ask him and it must catch him off guard because he turns from the open fridge to face you, raising his thick brows.
"Before what?" He chuckles amused. "Before the dead started walking?"
You answer him with a simple nod.
"Why, y/n? You think if you play mind games.. try to get in my fucking head.. that I'll just what.. stop? I told you already. You belong to me." He approaches you slowly, tilting his head to the side. "Do I need to remind you of that?"
"Not trying to get in your head. Just making conversation since you're standing in my damn kitchen, making yourself at home."
"Well, ya know what. I wasn't planning on settling in. But since you're offeri-"
"I'm not." You say through your teeth, making it clear that he's not welcome here. Negan looks at you at eye level as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"That.. is no way to treat your new house guest, y/n. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna bake us some fucking cookies." He walks away, leaving a scent trail of leather and cigarettes behind as he opens your cabinets, pulling out what he needs to get started.
You look to the front door, contemplating your next move and strategically thinking of how to get this psycho out of your house.
"The supplies.. your men are loading them up. Don't you need to leave soon?"
"Oh, right! Thanks for reminding me. Could you be a fucking doll and go tell Simon to head on out without me?" His smile widens as he turns on the faucet, washing his hands.
Hesitantly, you do as he says, leaving to find Simon and explaining the situation before heading back to your house. Some fellow Alexandrians watch you curiously before Carol quickly catches up to you.
"Y/n! What's going on? Where's Negan?" She asks panicked, noticing the Saviors are leaving without him.
"In my fucking house. He's staying."
Her brows crinkle as she walks quickly beside me, trying to keep up. "How long?"
You shrug annoyed. "Keep an eye on things for me while he's here. I'm not letting him outta my sight."
Carol nods, turning away and you jog up the steps to your house. You enter your house and the smell of freshly baked cookies fills your nose.
"You gotta try these, y/n. I would make one hell of a fucking house wife. First the spaghetti, now cookies? I gotta stop spoiling you like this." He takes a bite out of one, groaning at the taste before holding the plate out for you to take one.
"Hmph." You breathe out annoyed before grabbing one and taking a bite, dropping it back on the plate.
"Welllll?" Negan asks expectantly.
"Tastes like shit." You glare at him as the smile on his mouth fades into a scowl. He nods disappointedly as he slides the plate onto the counter, walking past you without a word.
You turn and watch him disappear up the stairs before following after him, smiling to yourself proudly at the accomplishment of hurting his feelings.
He makes his way to your room, walking in without hesitation and kicking his shoes off.
"What the hell are you doing?" You ask following him. "This is my room."
"Wrong, y/n. Whatever you have.. belongs to me. So, this room? Is mine." His voice is deep with anger as he shrugs his jacket off his shoulders.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I would love a hot shower.. in my bathroom." Negan announces, walking to the master bathroom attached to your room.
You refuse to let him stay in your room by himself, so you defiantly kick off your shoes next to his, slipping off your pants until you're left in boxers and a black t-shirt. You fall into bed defeatedly, listening to the sound of running water coming from the half open bathroom door.
You start to doze off before the water shuts off, leaving nothing but loud silence.
Negan sighs loudly from the bathroom. "The fuck are your towels?" You hear him rustling through the cabinets under the sink.
"You took them all last time." You call out.
"Goddamn it." He walks out of the bathroom, completely bare and wet. You shamelessly watch as water runs down his body, traveling through the v-shape in his abdomen before reaching his long, veiny cock.
"Like what you see, y/l/n? ... Told you my dick was bigger than yours." Your eyes quickly snap away as he uses his dirty shirt to wipe the excess water from his toned body.
"Gonna need to borrow some boxers unless... you'd rather me sleep in the nude... From the look on your face, you'd probably prefer that anyway, huh?" Negan chuckles and you run a hand down your frustrated face, looking up at the ceiling.
"Top drawer."
Negan makes his way towards your dresser, opening the drawer and browsing through. You can't help but let your eyes roam to his backside, admiring his firm ass. His eyes catch yours in the dresser mirror in front of him and you freeze, holding his eye contact.
The corner of his mouth raises like he caught you red handed and he chuckles as he bends, slipping your boxers up his long legs.
You get up, frustrated with yourself and quickly walk to bathroom, desperate to get away from him, but he cuts you off.
Your jaw ticks as you look down between the two of you, refusing to give him anymore attention.
"Get outta my way Negan."
His smirk widens as his hands go to rest lazily on his hips. "You gonna make me?"
You shake your head annoyed and push past him. "I'm not fucking doing this with you." You slam the bathroom door shut behind you, leaning against the wall and exhaling a deep breath.
You attempt to think about anything but him, trying to calm the growing length beneath your boxers.
"Fuck." You whisper out, frustrated with yourself. The bathroom mirror is still foggy from Negan's shower and your mind drifts back to the thought of his wet body emerging from the steam.
You look down at your hardening cock and bite your lip, keeping your hands by your sides and restraining from touching yourself. You finally compose yourself after a few moments, tucking yourself under the waistband of your underwear and letting your shirt hang over.
When you exit the bathroom, Negan is already laying in your bed on top of the covers, one hand behind his head while the other rests on his hairy stomach. You don't allow yourself to look as you climb into the bed next to him.
"I want to make one thing clear, Negan. I am sleeping in my bed for the simple fact that.. it's my fucking bed and I'm not letting you kick me outta my own damn room. Don't get any weird fucking ideas."
Negan chuckles. "Case you forgot, I have a whole fucking handful of wives back home. If anyone in this bed is getting any ideas, it's you."
"Sure is strange that you're in my house when you have so many wives at home, isn't it? .......Did you kill their families too? Force them to be with you?"
Negan turns his head to you, his expression serious now. "You should probably go sleep in the other room. Before I lose my goddamn temper."
"Like I said, this is MY fucking room. YOU get out." You throw the covers over yourself as if to convince him you're not leaving.
"Fuck it." Negan stands up to leave the room but turns to face you when he reaches the door. "You know why you belong to me, y/n? .. ... Because your people don't respect you. You got them into this shit because of your own choices. I just happen to reap the benefits of your own stupidity."
You throw the covers off, angrily making your way over to him before stopping directly in front of his face. "And you think your people respect you?! You've tortured them. Abused them. They don't respect you, Negan. They're scared of you. There's a difference."
"Are you scared of me, y/n?" Your eyes widen when you feel his dick twitch against yours. He subtly presses his body closer to you, barely touching his cock to yours through your boxers.
You noticeably gulp and his eyes drop to your throat, making him grin.
"No." You breathe out, glancing down to watch his tongue lick his bottom lip.
He softly chuckles before leaning into your ear. "Then why do you have goosebumps right now?"
If you didn't have them before he said that, you definitely do now from his raspy voice vibrating against your ear and his dick rubbing against yours through the thin material.
"From your body language, you are most definitely scared.. or turned on.. One of the two.. Guess it just depends on which one you'll admit to." Negan grins devilishly, daring you to make a move.
You stare at him for a moment before spitting angrily in his face, making his eyes shut tightly as he wipes your saliva off his beard.
You don't have time to regret your decision because Negan's hand suddenly grips your throat, tightening and walking you backwards towards the bed. "That's how you want it to be, huh? Good.... I can be rough too... On your fucking knees."
You don't fight him, knowing he'll win so you willingly drop to your knees in front of him, keeping your hands by your sides.
He pulls out his semi-hard cock, stroking it a few times in your face until it grows to full length. "Gonna put that fucking smart ass mouth to use. Open." He demands.
You don't move, and instead glare up at him through your brows, ignoring his request.
Negan chuckles darkly before bending down, tightly squeezing your jaw with his hand, prying your mouth open.
"Open. Or I'll choose another hole." He grins before spitting directly into your mouth.
You reluctantly obey, allowing him to enter your mouth and he gives you no warning before ramming his cock deep down your throat. You choke at the sudden feeling, attempting to jerk away but his fingers roughly push your head forward, holding your face against him until your nose is pressed into his pubic hair.
You feel lightheaded as if you could black out before he quickly yanks your hair back, causing you to exhale a deep breath. He pulls you up completely this time, bringing your face close to his.
Negan's eyes search yours. "Tell me to fucking stop." His breathing is erratic and his voice is deeper and raspier than before.
You stare back at him silently, giving him consent without using your words. He smirks before turning you quickly and positioning you until your knees are on the bed and your face in a pillow with your ass in the air.
He climbs on the bed behind you, yanking your boxers down and sliding them off your legs until your bare ass is exposed to him. You feel his large hands rub your ass cheeks before squeezing roughly and spreading them apart.
"Mm. I am gonna have some fun with you." He says before diving in, pressing his face into your ass and using his tongue to pleasure you. Your cheeks blush and you moan at the sensation of his tongue swirling around inside of you.
After a few moments of licking, he pulls back, spitting on your hole and leaning back until he's lined up behind you. His finger lightly circles your hole before pushing through, knuckle deep. "Mm, goddamn you are tight."
His finger retreats, leaving you empty and desperate for more. "You ever taken a dick before, y/n? You think you're ready for me? He chuckles, teasing the tip of his cock against your hole.
"Negan.. shut.. up. Just fuck me."
"Beg."
You remain stubbornly silent at first, but when he starts to get up from the bed, you give him. "Please."
"Sorry, what was that?" Negan positions himself behind you again.
"Please. Fuck me."
Your eyes widen with surprise when Negan reaches around to your face, fish-hooking your mouth with the finger that was just inside you and jerking you back until your body is pressed against his. Chills cover your body as his low voice whispers in your ear. "Can't fucking hear you." His finger leaves your mouth, gripping your throat instead and squeezing firmly.
"Please.. Please fuck me, Negan." You beg louder and he lets you go, pushing you back down into the mattress.
He enters you fully and suddenly in one motion, not giving you any time to adjust and you cry out at the pain. His heavy balls slap against yours from underneath and he pounds you relentlessly, harder and deeper with each thrust.
"So fucking tight." Negan groans through his teeth. "Wish your people could see you right now. Bent over and moaning from my cock."
He grabs your hair, yanking you up again until his mouth is next to your ear. "You think they'd be disappointed, y/n? Knowing whose dick you're taking?"
"Shut up."
"What if they knew how much you liked it?" He reaches around you, gripping your hard, leaking cock in his hand while still pounding you. "How this cock throbs for me…. Look. At. That." Precum leaks from your tip as you both watch Negan's thumb rub it around on your tip. From this angle, his dick presses perfectly into your g-spot with each thrust and you moan louder when you feel your orgasm builds up inside you.
Negan releases your cock and pulls out of you suddenly, flipping you over until you're laying on your back.
He positions himself in between your legs and pushes back into you, making you both moan out together.
You reach for your dick, desperately needing to stroke it but Negan grabs your wrist, pinning it above your head with the other. "No fucking way. You belong to me, remember? This dick belongs to me. I'm making you cum."
You arch yourself into him until his dick finds your g-spot again, hitting it hard over and over.
"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck." You cry out as your cum spills all over your stomach. Negan groans as he watches you come undone, pumping into you faster.
“Gonna cum in this tight fucking ass.. cause it belongs to me too. That okay with you?”
Before you can tell him no, he stops thrusting, holding himself deep inside of you. “Ahh Fuck. Fuck.” You feel him pulse against your walls over and over, filling you to the brim before he finally pulls out.
Just when you think it’s over and the guilt starts to set in, Negan pushes your legs back further, pressing his hands against the back of your knees as he looks down at your hole. “Lemme see you push it out.”
“No.. wha-“
“Now.”
You sigh, giving in once again as your muscles flex and you feel his load leak out of you and run down.
Negan swipes it up with his finger, pushing it into your mouth suddenly, making you taste him.
Your brows scrunch together angrily as you try to turn your head and spit his fingers out but he overpowers you until you give in, sucking his seed off his fingers. You can’t deny he tastes fucking good and it makes you moan.
“Taste good?” Negan chuckles, watching you enjoy the taste of him.
“Much better than your cookies.”
429 notes · View notes
herrscherofinsanity · 6 months
Text
Anything for you
Summary: Nayeon would do anything for her girlfriend, even getting over some of her biggest pet peeves.
Fluff
Im Nayeon x fem!reader
Word count: 1.4k
A/N: This is me being kinda back. In honor of Twice's 8th anniversary I wanted to write something for my ultimate bias; I'll be back simping for the aespa girls soon, I have lots of ideas... I just need to find time to write them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and also thank you for reading!
____________________
“Hey can you pause the movie for a second? I really need to go to the bathroom”, Momo whined as she got up from the couch making the other girls groan.
“You always do this!”
“It was just getting to the good part!”
“Can we kick her out?”
“Is one night of peace and quiet too much to ask?”
You chuckled, watching the chaos unfold; a warm feeling spreading through your chest when you felt your girlfriend’s arms wrapping around your waist in a tight hold. You turned your head towards her, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.
“You find this amusing?” Nayeon whispered, not wanting to draw unwanted attention towards the two of you.
“I do” you whispered back, a playful grin on your lips, “you girls have quite the bond, I’m jealous”.
“There’s no need to be jealous, babe” she said, kissing your cheek “you’re my favorite anyway”.
Before you could reply, another voice cut you off. “What do you mean she’s your favorite?!” Chaeyoung complained, wanting more drama to unfold.
“Jihyo, the couple is being annoying… again”, Tzuyu said.
“Oh, leave them alone” Sana said, your girlfriend sent her a grateful smile, but Sana’s sentence wasn’t over yet. “Nayeon can’t help the fact that she’s whipped”.
The members laughed, teasing the two of you relentlessly. Your girlfriend shot you a defeated look, so much for spending a relaxing time together without any interruptions.
“What are we talking about?”, Momo asked as she made her way back from the bathroom.
“Nayeon being stupidly in love with y/n” Jeongyeon replied nonchalantly; your girlfriend silently sulked behind you.
“If you don’t mind, can I ask you two something?”, Mina looked towards you, a curious expression on her face.
You sent her a gentle smile, encouraging her to ask her question.
“When did you realize you were in love with each other?”.
An innocent question, but you felt as if you were about to go into cardiac arrest with the way your heart dropped. Nayeon wasn’t that far behind you, she felt as if the living room started spinning. On the other hand, both of your reactions left the girls feeling clueless. Why were you being so awkward? Surely you two had already… wait.
“W-well, we haven’t-” Nayeon began.
“Actually, I know the answer to that question!” Jihyo exclaimed, a dangerous gleam in her eyes.
“What could you possibly be talking about?” Nayeon hissed, shooting her fellow member a suspicious look; the whole interaction caught your attention.
“I would also like to know” you cleared your throat “…please”.
Nayeon looked at you with what you could only describe as pure panic, “baby, I really don’t think-”.
“Jihyo! What are you stalling for?” Jeongyeon exclaimed.
“Yeah! Go ahead and tell us!”
“Okay!” Jihyo exclaimed, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Gather ‘round kids! This is the story of how I realized Nayeon was without a doubt, head over heels in love with y/n!”.
____________________
Two months ago.
"You can't be serious".
"I swear! They kept calling us 'wig group', Sana was about ready to lose it" your girlfriend, Nayeon said, her tone full of amusement.
You laughed at her story, not fully believing it, but still amused by how creative her fans could be.
Im Nayeon, better known as Twice’s Nayeon, but to you she simply was Nayeon; the same girl who nervously asked you to be her girlfriend 3 months ago.
You two were introduced by your mutual friend, Yeri who had spent weeks going on and on about how she knew the perfect person for you to go out with.  You were incredibly hesitant, but you eventually caved and agreed to give Yeri’s friend a chance.
Nayeon surprised you in the best of ways; after your first date, you couldn’t help but agree with Yeri, she really was the perfect person for you. The loud girl carved a permanent place in your heart for herself and nothing could come between the two of you; not the hate comments, not your companies, and definitely not the malicious rumors surrounding your relationship. Being with Nayeon was definitely worth it.
“We should get going, babe”, she said with a sad smile “you have a photoshoot and I’ve got an interview; we can’t stay any longer”.
As if to mock her, right in that second it began to pour. Nayeon looked at you in shock, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the troubled expression she wore. You knew perfectly well you would have to find a way to leave the small café you were currently hanging out at, your schedules depended on it, but still, a few extra minutes with your girlfriend couldn’t hurt.
“We’re going to have to make a run for it”, you sighed, the responsible part of your brain outweighing the not-so-smart one.
Nayeon looked at you with a frown on her face, her gaze kept moving between your frame and the raging storm outside. “You’re not wearing a jacket, y/n”.
You hummed, “it doesn’t look like this rain is stopping any time soon, we can’t afford to wait”.
“You’re going to catch a cold”.
“Maybe, but you know the deal, our relationship must not interfere with our careers” you rolled your eyes as you recited the same speech that had followed you around for the past month.
“Stay here”, she said sternly, “I’ll be right back”. You frowned, but followed her instructions. Not even five minutes later, Nayeon was back with a black umbrella in her hand.
“Where’d you get that from?” you asked her, she definitely didn’t have an umbrella when you got here.
“I just bought it” she grumbled, “I’m not going to let you get sick. Now come on, we really should get going”.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Jihyo was currently waiting for the rest of her members to finish getting ready, they had an interview lined up and who knows what else might get magically booked along the way.
In an attempt to entertain herself, the leader unlocked her phone and tapped on the Twitter app. She mindlessly scrolled through her timeline, nothing truly catching her attention; that was until she came across two familiar figures.
Several pictures of her fellow member and her girlfriend greeted her. Now, Jihyo wasn’t surprised by the pictures in general; Nayeon, despite the countless warnings, was always going out of her way to show off her relationship. What truly surprised the group’s leader was the fact that the eldest member had an arm securely wrapped around you, her other hand too busy holding an umbrella in an attempt to shield you both from the rain.
An umbrella?
Before Jihyo could think about it any further, Nayeon made her way into the dorm.
The first thing the oldest Twice member did as soon as she got home was throw the umbrella somewhere far away from her, a sour expression on her face. Jihyo let out a loud laugh, not believing the sight before her very eyes; the leader’s laugh finally catching the other girl’s attention.
“You’re such a simp, Im Nayeon”.
_____________________
Loud laughs bounced back and forth across the Twice dorm and Nayeon wished she could disappear. What would you even say to that?
 “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Why did that make you realize she loves me?” the members gave themselves whiplash with how fast they all turned to look at you.
“You mean she never told you?” Dahyun asked.
“Told me what?” you asked nervously, Nayeon whined, wrapping you in an even tighter hug.
“Nayeon absolutely hates umbrellas, y/n” Jihyo explained. “She hates them so much, back when we were trainees, she used to wear a box on top of her head whenever it rained”.
“Even to this day!” Sana continued, “whenever our managers try to help her out with umbrellas she runs away” she giggled.
“But somehow all of that goes out the window when it comes to you” Jeongyeon smirked, “you have her wrapped around your finger, y/n”.
“Nayeon can’t have her princess getting sick” Momo teased.
The girls kept throwing jabs here and there, but you tuned them out, trying to focus your entire attention on your blushing girlfriend. You sent her a soft smile, she returned it immediately, feeling absolutely at ease once she saw that sparkle in your eyes.
“Do you really hate umbrellas that much?” you laughed.
Nayeon groaned at your question, feeling embarrassed all over again. “I do, I really really do”, she paused to steal a quick kiss from your lips, “but I love you way more”.
You beamed at your girlfriend, feeling on cloud nine when you finally heard her say those words you had been longing for.
“I love you too, Im Nayeon” you said, pressing your lips against hers in a sweet kiss.
“Jihyo! The couple is being annoying again!”.
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A/N: Everytime I think of a one shot I always have the idea that it will be roughly 500 words, and somehow I always end up going past 1k, oh well.
Thank you so much for reading! If you have any requests or anything like that feel free to let me know :)
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lilacsandamethysts · 1 year
Text
Ragnvindr(s)
Pairing: Diluc x fem!Reader (she/her pronouns)
Summary: The Ragnvindr clan is expecting a new addition.
Warnings: pregnancy and mention of kids, characters expecting and becoming parents
A/N: Hi im back, hopefully i'll manage to post more regularly bc I have truly missed this (writing and posting). This is the first fic of my dad!character series bc I have a huge case of baby fever and seeing my favorites as dads satisfies my daddy and abandonment issues.
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“Can you please take a seat? Boss is going to kill me if he finds out you’ve been exerting yourself.” Charles could have sworn to any archon willing to listen to his pleas that he had lost ten years from his life during this six hour shift. He was on bar duty this evening, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing he couldn’t handle and nothing he hadn’t done before. What he hadn’t done before was have his boss’s pregnant wife on duty with him. “I swear miss, you’re giving me gray hairs.” Funny, now that he thinks of it, he had heard his boss utter the same exact words three hours prior when he dropped her off, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as he had looked at his wife worryingly. She rolled her eyes at his comments going back to cleaning the dried glasses littering the underside of the bar. 
“Barbara said that moving around would do me good. Besides,” she frowned at him, the fire burning in her eyes making it clear to Charles why master Diluc had found his match in her. “I’m feeling peachy.” She wasn’t even that far along, stomach barely showing from under her slightly loose blouse. Diluc, ever since it had been revealed that her sudden unwellness was due to her expecting their child, had become thrice as protective than he already was, barely leaving her out of his sight. Truthfully, as much as she loved and cherished her husband, being under constant surveillance was starting to irritate her. She couldn’t fault him; this was his first time going through such an experience and he was rightfully anxious. A soft hum escaped her lips at the thought of his frazzled gaze every time she shifted in her seat while they went through documents of the winery. Diluc was going to be an amazing father, she knew that from the moment she announced her pregnancy to him. What she was even more certain about was, the gray hairs he was bound to start sprouting by the end of these agonizingly long nine months.
The door to the tavern flew open and in stepped a slightly agitated Diluc, hair sticking out from his usual high ponytail he dawns whenever he works behind the bar and eyes darting all over her figure as she continued to shine the glass in her hand. His shoulders sagged slightly in relief upon seeing her in one piece. With a sigh he shed the heavy layers on his shoulders before walking behind the bar, peking her cheek once with a hand resting on the slight bump of her stomach. 
“Why are you up? Again.” He said, a serious expression engraved on his features, brows furrowing when she simply hummed in response. He sighed again, rubbing at his temples before kissing her cheek again and reaching for one of her glasses. “You two are going to be the death of me.” 
“And they haven’t even been born yet.” She giggled again, leaning into his side, head tilting so it rests securely on his shoulder. Instinctively, he leaned closer, cheek smooshed on her hairline. “Imagine the terror once they start walking or even worse, running.” She swears she could already see the dark circles forming under his eyes which only made her laugh harder. The shift went by calmly with the tavern not being at its highest customer rate. They even got the chance to close up earlier than usual and make it back to the manner before midnight. Once inside, Diluc helped her hang her coat-even though she whined about being capable of doing it herself- and then led her to the kitchen where their dinner awaited them on the counter. Adelinde had taken it upon herself to teach both her masters the art of healthy nutrition; she had tried twice before in the past but they both were too stubborn and drowning in work to keep up a healthy diet, now with a child on the way they were more than willing to listen to her advice. 
Taking a seat side by side they dug in, emptying their plates in a matter of minutes with not even a peep leaving their lips until they were both done. Diluc brought her chair closer to his own, one arm draped over her shoulders while the other traced patterns on the fabric of her shirt absentmindedly, an action he seemed to be doing more and more each day. He had developed a habit of touching her in some way no matter the time or place or who was with them; whether it be his hand on the small of her back or his warm palm engulfing her own, an arm around her waist or merely their pinkies linked, Diluc couldn’t seem to let go of her no matter what. The citizens of Mondstadt would swoon at his blatant displays of affection, eyes full of unfathomable softness whenever they saw the soon to be parents on a stroll through the busy streets. There were still those select few who side eyed the couple -mostly her-, those whose jealousy shown through the happy facade, who sometimes didn’t even hide their displeasure at the fact that the informant who had managed to take Master DIluc off the market a few years prior was now securing her spot further with the birth of an heir. The Ragnvindrs merely scoffed at their sly comments and back handed compliments, Diluc usually making a mental note to have a word with the Knights about their insolent behavior. 
“Our baby is the size of a sweet potato.” She softly broke the silence, hand gently resting on the small sweet potato sized bump. “And in about four weeks they’ll be as big as a pomegranate.” Diluc couldn’t help but place his hand over hers, running his thumb over her knuckles before kissing the crown of her head. 
“Barbara sure has a weird way of measuring the weeks of pregnancy.” He unlatched himself from her, hand still resting over her own, as he examined the curve of her stomach trying and failing to imagine a sweet potato sized baby. Eyebrows scrunched in concentration, he failed to notice the pure disbelief written on his wife’s face. 
“Are…are you trying to actually imagine a sweet potato?” He looked at her sheepishly for a moment, big red eyes filled with nothing but serenity. Laughter echoed through the empty halls as she burst out into a fit of snorts making Diluc join her after a moment. Once calm, he brought her unbelievably close, kissing the tip of her nose before tucking her head in the crook of his neck and letting his eyelids fall shut. 
“I love you.” 
BONUS: 
The sun was at its highest when Katheryn spotted the family enter the city. The edges of her eyes crinkled as she nodded in acknowledgement at Master Diluc, red hair a mess from the strong winds of the city of freedom. Even worse was the mop of red hair in his arms as his daughter played with the ruby pendant around his neck, completely ignoring her hair obscuring her fathers’ vision. Turning around, they waited for their counterparts to catch up as the lady of house Ragnvindr strode up the steps, another mop of red hair in her arms in the form of a little boy this time, fast asleep while clutching his mothers’ blouse.
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pasta-in-the-pudding · 9 months
Note
This is random as shit but I think it’s funny 😭
Can I get some headcanons for Jeff, ben and Toby when their (Gn or masc) s/o is in the kitchen, just in the middle of the night, either staring off into nothing or walking in circles; I’m talking like- 3am, eating coco pops or smarties from the bag/box, walking around the room, staring at the floor. And their s/o being like.. ridiculously tired and still drinking redbull/Monster to keep them awake.
I’m autistic and I do it sometimes because idk?? But yeah this was a funny idea and your writing is great, so I’ve come to you! Don’t worry about these if you don’t wanna write them. Have a nice day/night :)
I'm so glad you like my writing! I do not have autism, but I do struggle with maladaptive daydreaming so, i demonstrate behaviors similar to this! I based some of the headcanons off of that so i hope it isnt too far off 😭 🙏
Thank you so much for requesting!!
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Toby
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Toby is up and down a lot during the night, so he'd probably run into you sometime during one of his many bathroom/snack runs
At first he thinks you're also on a snack run, but when he notices that you are just kind of...staring off into space he becomes suspicious
He steps closer to inspect your behavior, before shrugging and going along with it, grabbing his snack and heading back upstairs, and going back to bed
When he's in a trance like that, he usually doesn't like to be bothered, so he figured he'd just leave you to it
It's about an hour and a half later the next time he wakes up, he stretches, gets up, and walks downstairs
He still finds you there in the kitchen, completely intranced and still slowly eating your snacks
He puffs out his lips and tilts his head with a "hm."
He walks up to you and taps your shoulder, startling you a bit
"Sorry." He says, coming to place both hands on your shoulders "you've been here for over an hour, you ok?"
You nod and rub your eyes "yeah, sorry for worrying you" you say with a yawn
He smiles and kisses your forehead "it's ok, now that I know you're alright"
He takes your hands in his and pulls you towards him gently "now come back to bed, im touch starved" he says with a grin
Jeff
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Jeff is a very light sleeper, so the second he feels you shifting away from him, he's up
By the time he rubs the sleep from his eyes, you are already out the door, leaving him slightly annoyed that you didn't notice him waking up with you
He throws on a shirt and walks down the stairs, seeing you pacing around with a bag of smarties in hand, eating them as your mind seemingly drifts off into space
He sighs and rubs his face some more, before walking up behind you and trapping you in a hug, placing three warm kisses to your shoulder "what are you doin' up this early loser?"
You exhale loudly and bring a hand up to rub his head "just....thinking..." you mutter
He kisses you again, this time on the cheek "alright, I'll quit buggin' you. Come back to bed soon, though. You know I can't sleep well without you"
He presses yet another kiss to your cheek, before letting go of you and going back upstairs
When you finally decide to head back upstairs yourself, you grab an energy drink so that maybe once jeff falls asleep again, you can come back downstairs and think some more
When you get back into the room, jeff is laying on the bed, seemingly asleep, until he notices your presence
He moves his head to look at you, before sitting up and stretching "pulling an all nighter, huh?" he asks, gesturing to the energy drink in your hands
You glance at it, before nodding "yeah, I guess so"
He sighs tiredly and yawns "alright, i reckon I'm staying up too, then" he says with a grin
BEN
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BEN, having no need to sleep, rarely does so
He instead uses his nights to play video games or catch up on some work he fell behind
Tonight, when he had thought you'd fallen asleep, he got up and turned on his PC, pulling up steam and looking for a new game to play
While he was doing this, you got up and snuck out of the room, going downstairs to do your usual routine of just pacing around and staring into space
He plays his new game for quite a while, before getting bored and looking behind him to check on you
When he sees that you are not there, an eyebrow is raised
He pauses the game and gets up from his chair, looking around for you in various places you'd be in
He finds you in the gym, pacing around. He assumes you picked the gym because it's mostly empty, so you won't be disturbed
He walks over to you and steals a handful of your snacks "whatcha doing" he asks with his mouth full
"Thinking" you reply, not bothering to stop moving around
"Kay, well don't stay up too late, I wanna play animal crossing with you tomorrow" he says, squishing your face and kissing your squished up lips
He is about to go out of the gyms door before he pauses and looks back at you "also, bring me a soda once you're done" he then steps out, closes the door, and goes back upstairs
Hes such a little shit, i apologize for his behavior
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jujutsubaby · 2 months
Text
after hours (part 8)
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☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader ☆ summary: you help toji bake brownies for megumi's soccer meet tomorrow! you're excited to spend a cute and wholesome night in with baking brownies and eating taco bell with toji but he has something different in mind... ☆ tags: modern au, babysitting au ☆ warnings: 18+ !! MINORS DNI !! oral (f! and m! recieving), penetrative sex (p in the v), smoking, overstimulation, cannabis use, rough sex ☆ a/n: GUYS MORE CRAZY FILTHY SMUT IS HERE FOR U!! enjoy luvs!! and also enjoy even more taco bell sponsorship~ next post will be gojo centered and will still have some smut so stay tuned!! im feeling a little less shy writing smut but i still have a lot of ways to go before writing the infamous 3way but so far im feeling good ab this series and still feeling the momentum >:) also toji is soooo goofy and dilfy i love him :( 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤
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by the time toji comes downstairs from putting megumi to sleep, you’re already measuring out flour and beating eggs for the brownies as a form of distraction from your horny thoughts. you give a quick wry smile to toji before going back to beating the eggs. you feel and hear toji’s footsteps creaking until they’re in the kitchen, and eventually, right behind you. his arms snake between your hips and you let out a gasp, despite knowing what he’s up to. toji pulls himself closer to you and nuzzles his head between you neck and shoulders, and you instinctively roll your neck to the side, allowing him full access to one of the most sensitive parts of your body. 
you close your eyes in pleasure as toji peppers small kisses on your neck and shoulder blade, causing you to breathe heavier. “toji~ we need to bake megumi’s brownies,” you whine, trying to focus your energy back on beating the eggs again. 
“right, the brownies…” toji mumbles into ear, causing you to shiver. he continues to leave tiny kisses throughout your neck before finally stopping and resting his head in  the crook of your neck. there’s a brief moment of companionable silence with him, where the only sounds were the beating of the eggs, the cicadas outside, and the hum of the heater. 
toji breaks the silence first. “so…how was your night last night?” he feels your body get rigid almost immediately and starts rubbing your shoulders. “don’t get nervous, i’m only asking because i’m genuinely interested, pumpkin. not everything about me is horny.” 
“yeah, right!” you scoff, remembering the stunt he pulled at target earlier today. “seems like you already know how my night went, anyway.” you roll your eyes as you playfully shrug toji off your neck and he chuckles. 
“that’s just the last part of the night, i wanna know how your night in general was, jeez…” toji teases as he measures out the dry goods for the brownies. you figure toji is being genuine, and you have no reason to believe he isn’t. plus, you aren’t that bothered by him eavesdropping on your steamy encounter with satoru last night – you don’t want to admit it but you find it extremely hot, in fact. 
you sigh and start telling toji about your night, from taking the gummy shoko gave you to getting kicked out of playing dance dance revolution. you omit most of the sexual tension of the night with satoru, but you figure toji can just figure that part out by himself. 
toji has an amused face by the end of your story. “wow, so this is what happens when daddy doesn’t respond to your text fast enough, huh. to think i could’ve taken care of you much better than-”
you hit him playfully in the arm before he can finish the sentence. the last thing you need in your head is satoru and toji both arguing with each other about who can satisfy you better. you’d love to bookmark that fantasy for later, though. maybe in your bed, with your vibrator. 
 “shut up!” you pour the wet mix into the dry one and start mixing the brownie mix slowly as you both chuckle. 
“i didn’t know you got high.” toji seems intrigued. 
you continue mixing. “yeah, i mean, sometimes i do. i guess we haven’t really ever...hung out like that. i mean, it’s kinda bad form to show up to work intoxicated, no?” you joke, thinking about how insane you have to be on something while babysitting a child. 
“how many times do i have to say this? cut the shit, y/n, it’s literally just babysitting.” toji rolls his eyes. “you can be so tightly wound up, sometimes…” toji moves behind you again, and starts rubbing your shoulders lightly. you hate to admit it, but jesus that feels so good. 
“still! i can’t be on some shit while with megumi…” you say, defending yourself but slowly losing your rigor as toji really hits a knot on your shoulder that involuntarily makes you let out a moan. oh, fuck. you can practically feel the smile grow on his face as he hits the spot again. you bite your lip this time to hold in the moan. 
“well, you’re not with megumi, right now, right?” you’ve long stopped mixing the brownie mix, and you turn your head to face toji, meeting him just inches away from his lips. you suck in a breath. 
“i guess not…what are you trying to say?” you boldly ask, your eyes not leaving his lips. 
“i’m trying to say…” toji brings his lips even closer to you. “it’s probably gonna be easier for us to finish our cold ass taco bell if we smoke a little joint together in the backyard, pumpkin.” you answer him by pressing your lips to his, initiating a deep kiss between the two of you. 
“i’m taking that as a yes,” toji says, in between kisses. he pulls you closer, and you turn yourself around and lock your arms over his neck, pulling him even closer to you as you respond by moaning into his lips. toji breaks off the kiss, chuckling at your frown. “patience, pumpkin…” he coos as he opens up a random cabinet in the kitchen and pulls out a ziploc baggie of a couple joints. he takes one out,  grabs a lighter from a drawer with one hand, and your hand in the other and guides you to the backyard right outside. he lights it up and takes the first drag from it, and exhales. ugh, why does he look sooo hot while smoking? it’s unfair. 
if you were this horny completely sober, you’re fucked for the night. despite knowing this, you accept the joint from toji and take a hit, letting the smoke lightly irritate your lungs before letting it all go. you really did try to play it as cool as toji when you exhaled, but you ended up coughing. heat rushes to your face as you feel toji patting your back and chuckling. 
“stop, this normally doesn’t happen, okay,” you plead between coughs. “i just don’t smoke that much.” another embarrassing cough at the end of it. 
“whatever you say, pumpkin.” toji coos as he continues to effortlessly smoke the joint with zero coughs. it makes you jealous how perfect he looks in the pale moonlight, blowing smoke out. his face relaxes with each puff, as does yours, as you both slowly lean into the buzzed feeling. 
after a couple minutes of passing the joint to one another in silence, toji extinguishes it by slowly knocking it against the outdoor table. back inside the kitchen, there’s still the brownies that need to be put inside the already pre-heated oven. 
“okay, how about you heat up the food, and i put the brownies in the oven?” you instruct toji as you carefully transfer the brownie mix into the tray. you’re definitely high right now, but you just have to use your brain for like, 3 more minutes, before you can turn it off and enjoy the night with toji, who’s currently heating up your dinner. he grabs the tray from you before you can pick it up. 
“i’ll put it inside the oven, don’t want you to get burned handling the oven while a lil stoned. just open it and take a seat.” he instructs, head gesturing to the oven. it makes your heart skip a beat as you do what he says. you wait patiently as toji brings out the food, admiring his large and built physique. has he gotten even bigger since the last time you saw him? maybe you should ask if he wants to help you work out even though you can’t remember the last time you stepped foot inside the gym. you gulp and force yourself to think of something else, and the waft of the taco bell easily melts away your horny thoughts as the munchies slowly start to kick in for you. 
you immediately start destroying your food, as toji grabs the remote to turn on…great british bakeoff? you didn’t know toji was into food television, and now that you think of it, food related tv shows are usually the most family friendly ones, too. toji senses your confusion and clears the air. 
“listen, it’s interesting, okay?” he says, defensively as he chows down on his tacos, eyes not leaving the screen as paul hollywood explains the technical challenge. 
“i’m not judging!” you’re judging a little bit. “i think it’s cute you’re into such soft dilfy tv shows…” you giggle. 
“what makes ‘great british bakeoff’ dilfy?” 
“i dunno, it’s just a dad thing to watch.” you say in between bites. 
the rest of your dinner consists of conversations around toji’s tv show interests (he watches a lot of hgtv and a weird common ground between the two of you is selling sunset) and the current episode of great british bakeoff (you feel bad even offering to bake brownies after watching their baking skills). 
you laugh when toji says he hated the time he went traveling to london (“i didn’t understand a single thing they said and their seafood is just awful!”). “you can’t judge them just by a single bad trip, toji,” you chastise, rolling your eyes. you take a bite out of a cinnabon delight and the cream oozes out around your lips. you’re about to quickly wipe it off, when you catch toji looking intently at you. 
“hold on, let me help.” he wastes no time leaning towards you, suddenly forgetting about the tv show, and licks it off your mouth and you’re not sure when you both start kissing but you were. it seemed so natural to fall into it, cinnabon in one hand and your other tugging on his hair. 
“you taste like cinnabons,” toji murmurs against your lips. 
you let out a small moan, “it’s because i was eating one…until….” the sound of the tv drown out the smacks of your lips and your quiet moans. 
“sorry, should i stop?” toji breaks the kiss and tugs on your lower lip playfully, and you moan due to the loss of contact. your hand, still resting on his head, forces him back on your lips as you hungrily open your mouth and let his tongue explore yours. 
you’re about to say more but, but you’re both interrupted by the timer going off in the kitchen, indicating the brownies are finished. the sound startles both of you and toji breaks off the kiss as you catch your breath. you both get up, the high slowly plateauing for the both of you since getting some food in your stomachs. toji carefully takes out the freshly baked and hot brownies and places them on the granite countertop. 
“god, they smell so good…” you say, practically salivating. 
“i know they’re for megs, but…i mean, it wouldn’t hurt if we just ate one, right?” toji surmises, already grabbing a knife and slicing off two small pieces for the both of you. 
“yeah, they won’t even notice.” you’re about to eat your brownie piece, when toji stops you. 
“wait, got somethin’ that’s gonna make this even better.” he strides over to the fridge and pulls out a can of whipped cream. “we can have fun with this.” 
you know he doesn’t mean it in a sexual way (or does he?) but you definitely read more into it, your heart beating faster thinking of all the dirty things you can do with the whipped cream, but first, your brain is begging you to try just a bite of the brownie before giving into your horny thoughts. you watch toji swirl a bit of whipped cream on his brownie before handing the can to you. you match him, albeit, a bit more messily. the whipped cream gets on your hands and on the plate, but you pay no mind to it as you both inhale the brownie bite at the same time. 
you do a terrible job at holding back a moan at the sweet fudgy and warm bite. “oh my god…not to toot my own horn but these are the best brownies i’ve ever had.” you say with your mouthful and toji nods in agreement. 
“megs is gonna love this tomorrow morning but he’s gonna hate us for trying a bite without him,” toji jokes. immediately after finishing his brownie, he grabs your whipped cream-laced finger and brings it to his mouth and starts sucking on it, causing you to gasp. he licks the whipped cream clean, and kisses the tips of your fingers. 
“someone’s still hungry for something sweet,” you tease, grabbing the can of whipped cream, opening your mouth, and spraying some on your tongue. you stand on your tippy toes and toji leans down and gives you an open mouth kiss. his tongue engulfs yours and exchanges the whipped cream between both of your mouths, the sweetness driving your hunger for him  even more. if you saw anyone else do this, it would make you gag, but with toji, you cannot deny how erotic it is and how incredibly soaked you are. the sweetest kiss (literally) you’ve ever had comes to an end as toji pulls back and grabs the whipped cream container.
“actually…” toji lifts you up with one arm and sets on top of the granite countertop of his kitchen. “i want something sweeter…” he brings the nozzle to your neck, which you gladly tilt for him to make space, and you feel the coldness of the whipped cream being applied on your neck. jesus fucking christ, you’re so sensitive there. you shiver at the contact. your eyes roll so far back in your head and you let out the most obscene moan when toji licks a long stripe across the whipped cream in your neck, and sucks on your skin at the end of it. you feel the vibrations of toji’s humming against your neck and you close your eyes in pleasure. 
“f-fuck~ toji…m’so sensitive there…when you lick it, ah~” toji wastes no time placing some more whipped cream on your neck and repeating the same motion as you moan again at the contact of his tongue on your neck. 
“fuck, pumpkin, i could just eat you up, right now,” toji says through raspy sighs. he’s practically inhaling you – your warmth, your scent, everything. he can’t get enough of you, with or without whipped cream. with or without clothes, too but preferably without. “gotta take this off,” toji says, tugging at the hem of your sweater.
“yes, daddy,” you say coyly as you bite your lip. you waste no time throwing the sweatshirt somewhere across the kitchen. you sit on the granite counter with your titties on full display, your nipples slowly getting harder by the second. 
“tsk, no bra?” toji immediately connects his lips to your collarbones as he covers you in small open mouthed kisses until he reaches your sternum and feels your chest moving with your heavy breaths. your knuckles are turning white gripping the edges of the countertop. “you’re such a fuckin’ slut showing up here without one…what did you expect to happen?” he teases you even further as he starts kissing lightly your mounds. 
your breath gets caught in your throat as you pathetically try to defend your decision to not wear a bra tonight. “i-i- toji~ y-you said y-you would cook for me and t-take care of me…” you’re looking down at him and he looks back up at you. you close the gap between your mouths as you engulf him in another kiss and wrap your legs around him, unapologetically bringing him even closer to you. you scoot yourself even closer to the edge of the granite counter so that your heat was as close as it could get to him without you falling off the countertop and you start grinding on him, desperate to feel something. 
with the whipped cream can still in his hand, toji breaks off the kiss, and you notice a string of saliva connecting you both. “patience, pumpkin…” he mumbles as he shakes the can. he sprays two little buttons of whipped cream on each of your nipples, which are both hard right now, and it makes you shiver viscerally. toji engulfs one of your cream covered buds and starts sucking messily, causing you to whimper embarrassingly loudly. thank god the tv noise is drowning out your noises. 
once he’s cleaned up one of your breasts, he moves on to the next one, expertly using his tongue in quick flicks against your hardened bud. you feel like your skin is on fire despite the cream being cold and you lightly tug on toji’s hair, pressing his face even closer to your breasts. it’s harder to keep your eyes open because of the pleasure that’s electrifying your body, and your moans are slowly filling up the room. 
“fuck, y’taste so sweet…” toji says in between kissing your titties, alternating between each one and making sure not a single smear of cream was left. “can’t believe this is what i missed out on…”
“p-please, toji~” you whine, “n-need more of you…” you’re not one to be insistent, but you find your hands on toji’s shoulders and they’re slowly pushing him down to face your soaked shorts. 
“need my tongue in your pussy? need daddy to take care of this pretty perfect pussy?” toji teases you by grazing his thumb over your clothed clit, making you involuntarily flinch and whimper. tears of desperation threaten to spill as you quickly nod your head and mouth a weak “please”. 
“take this off.” toji commands, his fingers playing with the waistband of your shorts. he doesn’t have to ask you twice as your shorts practically slide off of you. your ass hits the cold granite and you yelp, but not for long as toji swiftly picks you up and lays you down on the dining room table. your legs automatically spread open wide as he takes a seat on the dining chair and comes face to face to your unclothed soaking core. you hear toji swear under his breath as his pupils dilate at the sight of you completely bare for him on his dining table. 
you won’t lie – you feel extremely exposed compared to toji who’s completely clothed, but it just turns you on even more at how desperate you get for him to touch you. you’re so needy for his touch, his tongue, his fingers, everything. and just thinking about it makes your wetness drip on his dining table. your eyes roll back so far, you arch your back in pleasure from just feeling toji’s hot breath in your inner thigh. 
“p-please, toji~ no teasing…i can’t stand it~” you cry, bucking your hips closer to toji’s face. you need his mouth on you so bad it’s making you go insane as you hyperventilate and blink back tears. 
your eyes are facing the ceiling, but you feel toji shaking the whipped cream can. before you realize what’s happening, toji’s spraying another button of cold cream on your clit, and temperature causes your body to twitch. toji’s hands grab each side of your hips to hold them still, effectively forcing your legs to stay open while he finally dines on the dessert he’s been waiting all night for. 
toji licks a long strip across your folds, until he reaches your bundle of nerves and rests below a small hill of cream. the cream mixes into your core, and toji eats it up like he’s never had anything sweeter (and he hasn’t). your wanton moans get louder and louder as he dives even deeper into your core, his tongue expertly not leaving any cream to waste. 
“if you’re gonna be this loud, pumpkin, m’gonna gag you so shut the fuck up.” …was that supposed to be a threat to you? in any case, you bite your lips to stop block your moans, letting out raspy whimpers at toji’s ministrations. you feel toji’s fingers slowly creeping near your entrance and you buckle your hips futilely against his arms holding you down, in an effort to beg for more. 
toji inserts one, maybe two, you’re not sure how many fingers are inside you by the time you feel the coil tightening in your lower abdomen. your mind, already high from before, turns into mush in the face of your rising heart rate. toji hears your whimpers getting louder and your pussy clenching around his curled fingers bullying your g-spot. 
“t-toji~ m’getting close…” you say through mangled moans. tears threaten to spill as you strain to hold back until toji gives you permission. “can-can i, please?”
“can you what? use your words, pumpkin…” toji says, speeding up his fingers inside you. 
“can-can i cum, please, toji~” you whine. 
“anything for you, pumpkin. cum your brains out…” toji uses his thumb to apply the final pressure to your bundle of nerves, causing you to come undone on his fingers, and making a mess on his dining table. you don’t even have time to feel bad about it because toji starts bullying your g-spot again, leaving no time for you to recover. 
he swiftly stands up, and you feel the tent in his sweats against your thigh  as he reaches over to cover your mouth. you feel the back of your  head pressing against the hard dining room table, but it does an effective job of mumbling your scream at the overstimulation toji was giving to your pussy. your eyes roll back as he uses his thumb again to circle your clit and apply pressure. the tears you tried to hold back this entire time stream down your cheeks as you feel your body on fire after not recovering from your first orgasm. you see toji’s cruel smile as he coos at how well you take his fingers. 
“ohh, i know it’s a lot, pumpkin, but i know you can give me a second one, maybe even a third?” your eyes widen at the thought of three consecutive orgasms – you’ve never been able to do that even on your own! toji chuckles mockingly, his hands tightening around your mouth even more as he feels the signature clenching of your pussy on his fingers. he knows you're close and so do you. 
“cum for me, i know you're close, don’t hold back for me.” and you don’t. if his hand wasn’t on your mouth, you’re sure the neighbors and megumi, and maybe everyone in the neighborhood would have woken up at how drawn out your scream was. 
you’re unable to form a coherent thought as toji continues to keep his fingers inside you, caressing your g-spot and keeping up his end of his promise of making you cum three times in a row. it’s embarrassing how fast you cum the third time – it’s almost immediately and you feel yourself making a complete wet mess everywhere as your legs shake even though toji removed his fingers from you. 
toji unclamps your mouth and your breathy moans start back up again as you watch him put his soaked fingers in his mouth. “wanna taste y’self, pumpkin…so sweet…” you pathetically nod your head as toji inserts his fingers inside your mouth and you start sucking involuntarily, tasting yourself on him. he pushes his fingers deeper in you, but you hold them back. 
“want to taste you…toji, wanna suck you off…” you whine, wishing desperately his fingers were something else. 
“soon, not finished with your pussy yet.” toji takes his shirt off, and you lift your head up to admire his body. his toned and chiseled abs have a thin layer of sheen from concentrating on making you cum. you bite your lip and make eye contact with him, as he reaches down and palms his rock hard member over his sweats. you feel your mouth water in anticipation of having it in your mouth, but toji has different plans. 
toji lowers the waistband of his short and underwear, and his throbbing member springs up. with one hand, toji starts slowly jerking himself off, and with the other, he brings your pussy closer to the edge of the table. he places your legs on his shoulder, and they find a comfortable place resting on them. he gives a quick kiss to both of your ankles before rubbing the tip of cock against your slick folds, teasing your entrance. 
“nghh~ toji no teasing!” you pout, your pussy suddenly eager to take his pulsating cock inside you after being stretched by his fingers for so long. 
“okay, fine.” he says bluntly with a smirk as he slides his entire length into you, bottoming out. it takes you by surprise and he anticipates your loud moans as he once again uses one of his hands to cover your mouth and mangle your moans. 
“shh, you can take it, pumpkin, i know you can.” he waits a couple seconds for you to adjust to his length, but in all honesty, no amount of time could have helped you get used to how big he was and how full he made you feel. 
“ngh~ so big,” you complain through his hand on your mouth, as you struggle to keep your breathing normal and your moans at a normal volume. you clench involuntarily around him, and toji takes a seething breath through his teeth while scrunching his eyes. 
“fuck, pumpkin. you cannot do that, m’gonna cum on the fucking spot…” toji says, practically having to count backwards in his head to prevent himself from cumming just by inserting himself into you. “how are you still so fuckin’ tight after i fucked your brains out last time…” 
he slowly starts moving back and forth, and unclamps your mouth. he snakes one arm around one of your thighs and the other gripping your ankle next to face and forcing your legs further apart. you feel so exposed in front of him, but you can’t even complain, as toji quickens his pace inside you. you think you’re seeing stars in your vision, or maybe it’s because you’re still a bit high. your mind and body is still fucked out from your three massive orgasms previously, so you can’t make much of the things toji is saying to you. 
“y’take me so well, pumpkin…”
“feel ya clenchin’ on me again…gonna cum again? four times? such a greedy little slut…” toji clenches his teeth as he prepares for your fourth orgasm on his leaking member that’s actively fucking your brains out. you feel the familiar wave building up inside you, and it’s even stronger than the other three you had.
“fuck toji~ i feel so close…m’gonna cum, please…i-i can’t hold it b-back….” by the time you cum, you’re a babbling mess, and it takes toji everything inside of him to not cum inside you at the same time. his eyes are looking at you, fully focused on your pleasure as he thumbs your clit to help you ride the wave. you clench on him, hard, and he lets out a throaty groan. he knows he’s not gonna last much longer inside you, especially if he’s going to be watching your titties bounce back and forth with every thrust. 
“where d’ya want me to cum, pumpkin, m’close…” toji says through short, jagged breaths. you see beads of sweat on his concentrated face and his brows twitching as he’s pressed against you, keeping a consistent pace of hitting deep inside you. 
you don’t have much energy left, but you manage to croak out your one request of the night. “wanna suck you off…wanna have you cum inside my mouth…”
toji wastes no time obliging to your request, as he slows down and detaches himself from you. you weakly get up off the dining table, your legs still shaky from your orgasms, as you manage to get down on your knees in front him. he looks so pretty with his head thrown back and his eyebrows scrunched as he’s jerking himself off. he opens his eyes to see you looking back up at him, and he gingerly tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. your grasp on his leaking and throbbing member as he lets go, and you grab the can of whipped cream from the table and start shaking it. 
you place a little bit along the tip of his shaft, lick it off, causing toji to groan. you do it again. and again. your tongue takes small , sweet licks off his tip, and you feel him trying to buckle his hips into your mouth. it makes you boldly giggle at how desperate he is to get off inside your mouth. 
“y-you don’t get to tease, pumpkin, even when you’re the one sucking me off…” toji says between clenched teeth. with his hands, he creates a makeshift ponytail with your hair and forces his entire length inside you, causing you to gag on him. he starts fucking your mouth, and you feel the mascara tears falling down as you expertly control your gag reflex to take his length in. your tongue swirls as his cock is inside your mouth and you bob your head back and forth, determined to bring pleasure to the hardness of his arousal. 
toji’s thrusts inside your mouth are getting sloppier and messier, and you know he’s getting close. toji knows he’s coming undone in mere seconds, and he lets you know he’s about to spill all over your mouth, face, chin, everywhere. he cums inside your mouth and it drives him insane at how well you milk his member. you make eye contact with him as his warm seed squirts into your mouth, doing your best to swallow every drop of him. whatever you miss is dripping down your chin on to your thighs, and you hear toji’s breath return to a normal pace as he slows down. you feel his member softening and you stop sucking him and catch your breath. 
“fuck, pumpkin, how did you get so good at sucking me off…” toji says, catching his breath. you look at him demurely as you swipe his cum off your chin lick off your fingers, making a show of it by bringing your tongue out dramatically. 
“dunno, i just do…” you say, and toji shakes his head, chuckling. 
“you’re such a fuckin’ slut, pumpkin…” toji mumbles, before helping you up and peppering your face with kisses. he sees you shivering and he quickly helps you sit on the couch while he grabs a warm towel to help wipe you off and gathers both of your clothes that were strewn across the kitchen. he helps dress you before he does himself. 
“wait…was the tv playing this whole time?” you ask, confused at how many episodes of great british bakeoff must’ve been on autoplay since you guys stopped watching. 
toji laughs. “oh my god, it must’ve been playing the entire time. wait, quickly, hand me the remote, i don’t wanna know spoilers.” he quickly pauses the show and goes back to the netflix home page. god, it’s so cute he cares so much about that show. toji tosses you a blanket as he takes a seat next to you and goes back a couple episodes to where you guys stopped watching. you cuddle closer to him as you both watch the episode in silence. you feel toji’s fingers massaging your scalp softly, and you lean your head deeper into his broad shoulders, practically melting into his body. 
your eyelids feel heavier by the minute, and you try your hardest to stay awake. you need to know who got the paul hollywood handshake. you’re not entirely sure when you drift off, but it can’t have been more than a couple minutes. toji notices and finishes up the episode before slowly carrying you (quite easily) up the stairs into his bedroom, where he tucks you in and cuddles you from behind. 
he’ll never mention it to you, but by the time he’s in bed ready to sleep, he can feel himself hardening again against your ass as he spoons you. so fuckin’ inconvenient, he thinks, as he tries to think of anything else to try to sleep next to your passed out body. 
183 notes · View notes
lightlycareless · 2 months
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hiii i rly love how you portray naoya and i really like how you got naoya's character on point like...... HOW
but like im imagining this headcanon wherein y/n and naoya are lovers and naoya brought up the topic of having an "open relationship" and naoya ends up getting no bitches/loses them in the process and y/n ends up getting approached by men who naoya respects a lot or someone he really looks up to and naoya becomes jealous and very insecure even though he was the one who wanted to open the relationship (reminds me of what you wrote about naoya's jealousy towards nanami)
Hello anon!
Awww, thank you so much ❤️❤️ I spent a lot of time thinking how to make Naoya as realistically possible, how to redeem him and such, which was difficult, but satisfying at the same time.
Yet, something a-hole behaviors of him would remain, lol it has to, or it wouldn't be him, you know???
And the open relationship thing is soooo in character for him. Ugh that man, seriously... As much as I want to deny it, I feel like he would bring it up (but in a universe he isn't like completely devoted to you, like he has yet to realize just how much you mean to him—all paths point to the same destination, it's just... how he gets there that matters lol)
Anyways, here are the warnings of this oneshot 😏: y/n has a harem essentially. gojo, suguru, nanami, and an extra one I've been dying to write. :)))) mentions of infidelity, naoya is a bastard. and a sprinkle of smut. fluff, and angst.
Without any further a do, happy reading!!
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When the idea of an open relationship is suggested… the first of many fractures unwittingly struck your relationship.
First by shattering the image you had of him.
Sure, your feelings for Naoya remained, which is what made this ordeal far more painful…
But that didn’t mean you couldn’t harbor other emotions, such as anger.
“—just before we finally settle.” Is the lousy excuse he gives you when confronted, another stab to your heart. “Get it out of the system, you know?”
No. You don’t know, because for the past few years, Naoya is the only man you’ve had eyes for, to the point of imagining a future with him—and solely him.
It hurts to even consider he hasn’t been doing the same, probably already interested in some other woman, the reason behind his suggestion in the first place.
“I don’t want to…” you murmur, doing your best to not leave the table, or at least not shed a tear.
“It’ll only be a short time.” Naoya insists. “This way, we can know if we’re truly meant for each other. See if we don’t feel the same with others, hm?”
It’s stupid.
It really is—
Naoya’s suggestion… and your devotion to make him happy.
Because even after all the dumb things he said to justify the unjustifiable, you still wanted to please him.
“I guess we could go through restrictions or something, not that I have an—”
“No sex.” The rapid way in which you reply is something Naoya can’t help but find adorable, interpreting your eagerness as jealousy, overprotectiveness… before brushing it off as silly.
“Y/N—my love, you’re not seriously thinking we can reach a conclusion without that now, can we?”
Truth to be told, you didn’t want to find out. Not through this way at least, by laying in the arms of another…
Thus, could he really blame you for trying to fight it?
“Besides, don’t you want to try it out too?” Naoya smirks. “I’m fine with it, really. It’s a two-way street, after all. What’s good in me having all the fun?”
What hurts more?
That fact that Naoya wanted to pursue other women with your permission?
Or that he was pushing you onto other men, appearing careless to whatever you did or didn’t do with them?
It’s not that Naoya doesn’t care—far from that, really. He doesn’t like when men do as little as glance in your direction.
But he doesn’t worry because he knows there’s nothing to worry about.
Trusting that his hopelessly-in-love girlfriend would never betray him like that. Aware that your attention and devotion has been on him the moment you took him into your heart—and that no matter what, you’ll always come back to him.
It’s why he suggested the idea in the first place, because he’s long acknowledged that even past your limits, you still tolerate him.
Thus, unsurprised that you agreed to this change—Naoya leaving the apartment soon after that.
Looks like you were right in assuming he already had someone in mind to debut this new arrangement; willing to bet anything to prove he’s already on his way to her.
…Well, you hope that Naoya at least respects the only condition both agreed on: to not bring any partners to the apartment.
Not that you’d be there to see much of it anyways, opting to stay in your friend’s—Shoko— apartment for the time being.
“Can’t say I didn’t think him capable of doing something like that—but I guess I never thought he’d actually do it, not after dating you as long as he did.” She’d say, before taking a deep huff of her cigarette and exhaling.
You always found it endearing how she’d release the smoke to the side, as if it didn’t permeate the air around you… but at least Shoko cares enough to try. Not sure if you think the same of Naoya anymore…
“So much for having faith on him…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say, offended yet intrigued by her implications.
“I mean, you knew of the rumors before dating him, Y/N.” Shoko adds, you sigh. That, you did. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but…”
“I guess I was hoping they weren’t real, either.” You slowly admit. “…What am I going to do, Shoko?”
A breakup isn’t exactly what you had in mind, certainly not what you wanted to do….
But why do that now when you could take advantage of this exploitable opportunity? An opening all too obvious to Shoko, which she doesn’t hesitate to let you know.
“Give him a taste of his own medicine.” She suddenly suggests. “He told you, didn’t he? That you were good to be with other men.”
“But I don’t want to.” You shake your head. “I don’t—I don’t think I can.”
“It’s exactly the same, just another face if that’s what you’re wondering.” Shoko explains, but to you, it was much deeper than that, always has been, for an emotional personal like you.
It’s why she was so angry that your beloved boyfriend was quick to disregard your feelings.
“Ok, sure, let’s say I agree.” You play along. “How do I even start? It’s been a while since I’ve been in the dating scene—I don’t even know if I’m still… desirable.”
Oh, if you only knew some were dying for this moment.
The first to approach you, and shockingly no less than a day after, was Gojo.
It was through an unexpected text, making you surprised he still had your number after all that time—or at all, considering you didn’t really text anyone outside of your family, close friends, and… Naoya.
Satoru once belonged to your social circle, but due to unknown reasons of his own, most likely to do with Suguru, he strayed.
Either way, you responded as amicably expected.
S: [Are you doing anything tonight?]
Y: [No… why?]
S: [Let’s get something to eat 😋]
Y: [Did you text the wrong person?]
S: [Wait, is this not Y/N’s number?]
Y: [It is…]
S: [Then I’ll pick you up later at Shoko’s apartment, 7 alright for you?]
Y: [Wait, how do you even know where I’m staying?]
S: [It’s a date, then! See you soon!]
It was good to see that Satoru remained as… well, pushy as ever. Not that you were glad to have been pulled into this outing without further precedent, but you eventually succumbed to the flow, and soon, you were in one of the fanciest restaurants of the city, sitting at a table Satoru had gotten through a reservation (difficult to do so given the status of the establishment, guess he can do anything that he sets his mind to), while chatting the evening away with just about anything that crossed his mind.
Regardless of how… oddly this situation came to be, you still found enjoyment in catching up with an old friend of yours. It had been so long since anyone had seen him, many even thought he had left the country all together.
Not that you had a way to know, since your connections were already limited thanks to Naoya—One of the many things you’ve had to sacrifice in to keep your attention solely on him.
Was your relationship with him always this consuming?
Well, you had lots of catch up with Satoru either way—it almost felt like you were getting to know him all over again! Happy to see that he essentially remained the same (somewhat irritating) goofball he always was.
But unfortunately, just as the good remained, the bad also prevailed, which you’d be reminded of when going for a walk around the city, just a few blocks down the main road when both were approached by a group of women, who upon catching sight of him and his undeniable attractiveness, knew they needed his attention.
That’s the thing with Satoru. Raised as the heir of a highly prestigious company, he just never got enough of it. Always wanting more and more, and not afraid to do whatever necessary to get it, careless if it was to the detriment of others.
Thus, you assumed it wouldn’t take long before he completely ignored you in favor of them, leaving you behind.
When talking about him, you normally wouldn’t care if he left you or not. He was just another friend, long accustomed to his ways. It was just… never like that.
But after all that happened with Naoya, it’s like your still-healing wound reopened, pain sharper when slowly reminded that even with a friend, you weren’t good enough to retain their attention, less their care…
Well, at least it was a good distraction, and you got to see Satoru again. You wonder how much would a taxi cost to take—
“Seriously, couldn’t you be any denser?? I’m on a date here!”
As if you’d been showered with a bucketful of ice-cold water, you freeze, blinking while slowly turning to see him and his angered face.
Did you… Did you hear him right?
“Get lost.” Satoru doesn’t even bother letting them respond before his hand is already on your back, gently pushing you forward and away from the group, leaving behind both the distraught, slightly spiteful women…
And your erroneous preconceptions.
As he goes back to the previous conversation you two were having, acting as if nothing happened, even suggesting getting something sweet to serve as dessert —your choice, he’d tease— all the self-doubt you felt for his actions immediately evaporates.
It was simple, more likely unintentional, but his gesture in defending your importance, highlighting the fact he wanted to be with you, against how he usually behaved…
Made you feel special, realizing that perhaps it wasn’t that hard to be somewhat of a decent person.
Yet, your feelings…
“It was a nice night out.” Satoru would say once parked outside Shoko’s apartment complex, signifying the end of your unexpected yet pleasurable evening with him.
“Yeah, it was… nice.”
“I hope we can do this again.” But you don’t keep your hopes up, not when your feelings for Naoya were still there, prickling at the back of your mind, inundating you with a sense of wrongfulness, for you were never one to offer the other cheek, regardless of what your estranged boyfriend was or wasn’t doing.
Unless Gojo were to do something to make you… well, not change your mind, but rattle your beliefs, if only for a moment, when he ruffled the top of your head, giving you a smile, before softly kissing your forehead.
Alongside the reminder that…
“You’re too pretty to be upset about someone like him.”
Albeit archaic, his words convinced you that perhaps… you could do with another day like this.
The second to approach you, yet again to much of your surprise, is Geto. Just a few days after Satoru did. Although his invitation was much more… palpable.
In other words, you were getting lunch with Shoko when he made his “sudden” appearance, joining the two for a bite, before driving both back to her apartment, only voicing his intentions when she was out the car, leaving you alone.
Although sweet, wholeheartedly intending to spend time with you, you could still that some of it lingered the realms of an unspoken competition between him and Satoru—which you didn’t know whether to be flattered by, or worried…
“—and let me guess. He spent the whole evening talking about himself.”
Somewhat, not that you cared to justify, really, for you were far more enthralled in learning all that he’s been up to since he left.
But it was the truth either way.
Geto sighs.
“We’ll do something better.” And so, is how the date begins, by first taking you to the mall, window shopping through essentially every store that crossed your path, while catching up with him—he too had disappeared for a while, motives unclear, although the common theory was that he had a nasty falling out with Gojo. But now it seems they’re on good terms given the way he occasionally mentioned him throughout the conversation.
Beyond that, you assumed Geto also took this visit as a good opportunity to go through some pending errands, maybe get something for himself as well—or… for someone else.
The things he was looking at were quite eye-catching, after all, very gift appropriate.
Regardless of who it was intended to, you were right to assume they were special to him if he was considering buying a diamond necklace…
But yet again, that’s what you believed—reality was simply much different.
Or obvious.
“Why don’t you try it on?”
“Huh?”
“I asked if you wanted to try it on— I know it’ll look beautiful on you.” He’d say that, genuinely, with just about anything he deemed suitably for you, ranging from jewelry to clothes…
With your face flaring every single time.
“Oh—I—I don’t—” you stammer, struggling whether to decline his offer because this is all too luxurious for your taste…
Or because you were still processing the words that made you blush in the first place… alongside the fact that at one point, his hand had reached for yours without even noticing, intertwining his fingers with yours and staying that way while the two continued to walk around the mall.
Just… why did Satoru and Suguru decided to appear out of the nowhere?
“No, thank you.” Is what you eventually manage to say. If he’s noticed your nerves, he doesn’t say, instead, he simply gives your hand a soft squeeze, followed by another equally charming smile. “I don’t feel like trying out things either way.”
“Don’t worry about it, then. Perhaps another time.”
At his promise, you can’t hold back your skin from growing increasingly hotter, doing your best to instead focus on the movie the two agreed to watch, with little to no success, of course, considering Geto also took this opportunity to unconsciously drape his arm over your shoulders and move you closer.
While stereotypical, it still manages to fluster, and that’s how you’d remain for the rest of the date: even when getting something to eat, or when it was time to take you back to Shoko’s apartment once late enough.
But on the way back to the parking lot, you’re able to snap out of this trance when something catches your attention, just by the corner of your eye, effectively stopping you on your tracks.
Something simple, like a minimal black halter dress… unintentionally the same model you’ve wanting to try since forever, but never daring to do so, believing that your body was unbefitting of such style—and quickly, you moved on.
Your gaze didn’t linger much on it beyond a few mere seconds, certainly not for Suguru to notice, or so you considered…
But when the next day comes, a package is suddenly delivered at Shoko’s apartment, with your name on it, that by various personal reasons you open with great anticipation, growing distraught when seeing it had to do nothing with what you projected—
Quickly flustered upon realizing that the sender was Suguru all along, demonstrating his attentiveness by gifting you the same dress you saw last night, as well as his intentions of seeking something more with you.
“I enjoyed our time together. I wish to see you again—hopefully with this dress.”
You didn’t think you were too obvious when it came to your reaction, but at Shoko’s mention, you finally acknowledge you’ve been smiling, heart loudly pounding against your chest as you lovingly held the dress, moved by his gesture…
For when was the last time someone had gifted you something to your liking, without having to beg for it? Without having to justify why you wanted it?
Had it really been that long?
Just what else was missing in your relationship with Naoya…?
Or perhaps, not wanting to face?
Your feelings, to begin with.
Because as attentive and caring Satoru and Suguru had been, neither were courageous enough to acknowledge the situation that put you in their reach in the first place, opting to instead reap the benefits, but ignore the rest.
It wasn’t malicious, not at all. It’s been stated by now that they truly cared for you, always checking in on you whenever possible.
It’s just that… they didn’t feel comfortable doing so yet, believing they were far from appropriate, or close enough, to do so.
Judging by those characteristics, the only one worthy enough, and the one that would end up confronting you for that matter, was Nanami, who wanted to see you as soon as he found out the horrible situation Naoya had forced you to but struggled to do so thanks to his strenuous new job.
But once he was free, the first thing he did was call you, eventually meeting in Shoko’s apartment (she was gone for the day, for privacy matters, how convenient) and thus, everything else unfolded.
“Why are you even dating Naoya if he’s hurting you so much?”
“I—I don’t think that’s for you to discuss.” You objected, going through a roller coaster of emotions, a combination of unwillingness to speak of the matter, and fear of admitting the truth.
To talk about something like this was never an easy matter, more so when the situation was already deep in hot water…
Yet, his assertive nature didn’t come as a surprise to you anymore, nor permitted you to avoid it.
Nanami had always been this way, the one willing to speak about difficult things, rip the bandage, careless if you were prepared for it or not.
And let everything that is meant to happen, happen.
“My relationship is something only I should speak about! And when I feel ready for it…”
“Not when I see how much it’s hurting you.” He rebutted. “When was the last time you were genuinely happy at his side? Or where you didn’t have to sacrifice your personal life just to keep him happy?”
It’s obvious what he’s referring to—Nanami is another one of your friends you’ve lost contact with due to Naoya’s… jealousy. But different from Satoru and Suguru, he cared too much to just let you go, consistently reaching out to you whenever possible—even when you never answered.
“You don’t know what we agreed on—”
“I don’t think that losing your friends was part of that.”
“You don’t know him, you don’t know Naoya at all!’
“And you do?” Nanami counters, breath hitching at your throat, upset by his abruptness. “You once said Naoya was crude, but he’d never do anything to willingly hurt you—and yet, here you are, in an open relationship you clearly didn’t want.”
“Kento—that’s—” your voice trembles, his words too close for comfort. “That’s not—"
“Then why? Why do you keep tolerating him?” Nanami frowns. “Do you hate yourself that much?”
“What? No!” You shake your head, aghast by his accusation. “That’s not it, at all!”
“Then what is it, Y/N? What could possibly entail sticking around with a man that has done nothing but hurt you?”
“Stop it…”
“Seeing other women while still being with you? Is that your idea of a good relationship?”
“Kento, please—”
“It’s never my intention to offend you, but I can’t help believing you’re growing desperate—seeking for something you can’t have with him! So why? Why do you try so hard to make it work, when he clearly doesn’t deserve—"
“Because I don’t want to be alone, ok?!” You eventually shriek, tears in your eyes as his words stung your heart too deeply, too much to handle in silence anymore. “It’s just as simple as that!”
Nanami’s eyes widen, taken aback by your unexpected outburst and confession, yet, as surprised as he was, if not bothered, he was also very, greatly hurt by its meaning.
Your words unknowingly disregarding everyone else that had ever been there for you.
And such, he cannot believe it. He doesn’t—not when he’s been there all along.
“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” Nanami insists. “What is the truth? Is he forcing you to this??”
“No, Kento, he’s not!” you objected. “I truly want to be with him, because he’s the only one that has ever wanted to be with me.”
“You know very well that’s not true.”
“Seems like our perspectives vary greatly.” You frown. “I remember attempts of trying to get close to people, only to be pushed to the side when someone better came along. Person after person, they all just… ignored me; either because I was overshadowed by my family, or because I was too mundane to compete with others.
Until… Naoya came along. He was the only one that saw me for who I was. Even though it was mostly because I fit the mold he wanted.
But even then… I was happy to play along, because it meant that for the first time in my life, I meant someone to something.”
“That’s what you think? That you didn’t mean anything to no one else?”
“It’s not what I think—It’s what I know.” You sniffle, doing your best to hold back the tears pooling in your eyes from falling. “…Even now I know I’m only relevant because I’m Naoya’s girlfriend… but once that’s gone, I’m sure no one will look my way—"
“That’s not true.” He swiftly interjects.
“…And how would you know that? How would you know that this time, fate wouldn’t be cruel to me, like it has always been?!”
“Because there is someone that cares for you.”
“Let me guess, my parents.”
“No—I didn’t mean them.” Nanami frowns.
“Then who—” you breathe. “Who are you referring to??”
And suddenly, thanks to his softening eyes and growing silence…  something clicks in your mind and all makes sense.
His anger, his protectiveness, his insistence…
There was a reason behind them all, only now does it become clear to you.
“…Why didn’t you say anything?” you softly ask, heart sinking when looking back at the dismissive way you treated him, always standing by your side, and yet…
“Because you seemed happy with Naoya.” Nanami adds. “Perhaps I was at fault too, for not having spoken of my feelings before, but… after seeing the way you smiled with him, I supposed it was for the best if I instead, supported you as a friend.
But because I’m your friend, I can’t allow you to go on thinking no one has ever cared for you. That no one has loved you for who you are… or will never do.
And most importantly, remind you that this—this isn’t what happiness looks like.”
At his open declaration, you couldn’t stop the wave of overwhelming emotions from washing over you, a combination of shock, sadness, and perhaps… longing, wondering what would’ve happened if you knew of his feelings back then.
Would you have accepted them? Or would everything continue as it does now?
Well, one thing is for sure—Nanami would’ve never suggested something like this; the thought wouldn’t even cross his mind!
But it’s too late now. You’ve made your decision and now, you were suffering the consequences…
However, you didn’t have to be alone anymore—and Nanami would reassure you of such by the following words, the same one’s he wished to have told you back then… and possibly save you from all this pain.
“I love you, Y/N. I always did, and I’ll always do. Even if we never see each other again—you’ll always remain in my heart.”
Because he would rather die than to make decisions that hurt you.
Leading you to unwittingly discover what it was to feel loved, for the first time in your life.
A heartwarming sensation, with no strings attached, just… someone that wishes your well-being above everything else, alongside your happiness, and nothing more.
And such, something grows inside you, something that pushes you to be closer to him, far beyond this day—
Coincidentally, he’s also the first one you kiss.
After Nanami’s visit, your days would slowly become brighter, although the grey cloud of Naoya’s seeming infidelity still lingered in the background.
But even then, your mind didn’t dwell on him for long, difficult to do so thanks to Satoru’s, Suguru’s, and now, Nanami’s interventions, as well as Shoko’s advice of enjoying the best of your new status.
The men involved didn’t seem to mind… too much.
Sure, their jealousy would sometimes rise to the occasion (from one person in specific) but as long as you continued to be attentive with them, they were willing to “share”, believing it was only a matter of time before you left that jerk-of-a boyfriend of yours once and for all, settling for on them instead.
Long story short, everything seemed to go on peacefully with your new routine…
Until the sudden appearance of a man you never expected to see, less set his eyes on you, since the only time you’ve seen him was that one instance you became acquainted with him thanks to Naoya’s business, never to speak again, disrupted all you held true.
While you might’ve seen this moment as expendable, forgettable even, to him, it was the fated day he knew he must have you—a growing desire to make you his when the time was right.
Naoya’s stupidity opening that door.
Sukuna was the owner of a rival company, a fierce competitor that always made the Zen’in uneasy whenever mentioned, constantly keeping them on their toes—because with a man as belligerent as him, to let their guard down, if just for the slightest, meant the complete loss of all they’ve worked for.
It’s safe to say that Sukuna had garnered the reputation of being aggressively intimidating, thus it was only right to assume that his approach would be of the same nature.
“I—I can’t” is what little you manage to muster through the fear constricting your throat; you still remember the eeriness you felt when meeting him that one time, never believing it could worsen… until you had him just a few feet away.
“I wasn’t asking.” He responds, the tone in his voice not only highlights his sincerity, but also warns you there won’t be a second chance.
Urging you to do what’s best for you, less…
Perhaps out of fear of experiencing his anger, some kind of retribution, or because deep inside, past your worry and hesitation, you were genuinely intrigued to know what a man like him might’ve found interesting in you… you accept.
Because after all was said and done, he was far different to what you were normally accustomed to…
As well as to willing to bargain for.
You don’t know what it was—maybe it was your blinding intrigue, your desire to taste something way beyond your reach… or because you took Shoko’s words a bit too literally, even though with him, she insisted you to be careful…
You ended up following Sukuna into his apartment; And not only that, but you also let him show you what true desire meant, in more ways than one, sure to never forget.
“Su—Sukuna—!” you’d breathe, whatever little you could muster through the tightening of your chest and the fuzziness of your mind, harshly gripping his arms, as he pushes you over the edge and into your release for what seemed to be the nth time that night. “Sukuna, please—I need—I need a break—”
“No—you will take it!” he groans, holding your waist and keeping you in place as his cock deep into your core, each time harsher than the last one, bruising that spot that always made you see stars over and over again; unexpectedly, a place that Naoya was all too ignorant of, Sukuna being amongst the few, if not the only, to achieve such feat.
No wonder you were reacting the way you were, losing yourself in pleasure, because just as he teased…
“This is the first time you’ve ever been with a real man, isn’t it?” He laughs when feeling you quiver against his hold, feeble against the sensations he’s relentlessly giving you, finding your numbing reaction, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth agape, and toes curling… to be quite adorable.
Doing all in his power to get more of this reaction—hopefully, beyond this night too.
“They simply don’t make the cut! —But how could they? With a cunt as lewd as yours, one isn’t enough!”
Sukuna doesn’t find satisfaction in seeing you with other men, less when you’re still “taken”.
But ever the one to seek advantage, even in the most uneven of fields, Sukuna was quick to see the endless possibility this opportunity provided—more than ready to exploit them…
“Don’t—don’t say that!” you’d moan, with such an exciting cry, Sukuna just couldn’t help prolonging this night. “That’s not—that’s not tru—ah!”
And keep you all for himself.
“I don’t want you staying at that hideous apartment anymore.” Sukuna would mutter the moment you opened your eyes; having fallen asleep soon after the strenuous ordeal, and suffering from its aftermath as soon as conscious.
“It’s not… nasty.” You groan, slowly blinking as you look back at him, doing your best to push yourself up from the bed, only to fall back down when resulting too weak to do so. However, even when dealing with the sharp pains across your body alongside unbearable drowsiness, you’re capable enough to defend Shoko. “…It’s a nice place.”
He chuckles.
“Yeah, I’m sure it is.” Sukuna then reaches over to the nearby bedside table, sliding the first drawer open and taking out a pair of keys which he’d give over to you soon after.
You look at it perplexedly, confused as to their meaning… before growing shocked, slumber completely gone from your body when listening the following statement.
“From now on, you’re staying in my apartment.”
“Wh—what?” First that, and now, this? Sukuna meant no joke when it came to you. “No, I can’t accept this!”
“You sure love making me repeat myself, woman.” He scoffs. “It’s not a matter of whether you can or cannot—you will.”
It’s an amazing talent of Sukuna to always sound threatening even when dealing with the most ordinary of things, but either way, you’re not interested in testing how far his limits went, and thus, (not that you had any other option) you accept the keys while silently wondering what the future holds for you by making this decision…
“Uraume will help you move your things. I better see you here when I come back after work—less you wish to be punished again.” He smirks, fingers sliding along your skin before pulling you close to him once more, a whine escaping your lips as you realize what is to transpire next yet again.
Guess you’ll find out soon enough.
As well as what Naoya’s been up to, for the day Sukuna allowed you to, you decide to go back to your shared apartment to pick up a few things to take with… him, now that you’re essentially living together.
It was a very awkward arrangement, if you thought about it, one that Shoko was strictly opposed to, but… well, you would be lying if you didn’t admit you were having a good time (outside of the painful pleasures he pushed you through every night) for a plethora of luxurious reasons. Far nicer than what you were used to seeing with Naoya.
Which you could openly enjoy due to Sukuna’s absence, rarely getting to see him due to work commitments, Uraume representing him instead… not that it was any better, for they were just as awkward as awkward can get.
And yet, not as much as what happened when you walked through the door of your shared apartment with Naoya, welcomed by the one person you did not expect to see there, believing him to be completely enraptured in his new freedom, given the silence he always responded with whenever you texted or called him.
“Naoya?” You asked, although confused, you were more… shocked to see his distraught appearance, almost as if he hadn’t been able to sleep for the last few days—or at all.
“What are you doing here?” you add. “I thought… well, I thought you’d be… somewhere else.”
“I can say the same thing about you.” He frowns. “Is it true that you’re staying with that woman?”
“Her name is Shoko…” you murmur; even when away, Naoya remains…
Either way, given his attention on her, it seems like he doesn’t know about Sukuna, yet.
Or Gojo.
Or Geto.
Or Nanami.
Because if he did, it would’ve been the first thing he mentioned; his jealous nature never one to take as a jest.
Unless…
“But yes, I am staying with her.” You confirm. “What about… you? Where have you been staying?”
… and still, you can’t help but worry for him.
“Here.” He confesses, you blink.
“…Really?” Even when skepticism is evident in your voice, he doesn’t not say anything else. Instead…
“Yes. And… it’s time for you to come back home.”
“Why? What happened?” you fret, naturally fearing the worst…
Which you were right in assuming, just that… it wouldn’t be what you expected.
“You—you had enough fun.” Naoya unwittingly stammers, a scowl on his face, or was it sorrow? As he continued. “It’s time for you to remember you’re mine and come back home.”
“Enough… fun?” You slowly repeat, invertedly hurt by his words, as if he weren’t the one that set up this situation in the first place, yet, still overwhelmingly confused as to what he meant.
Suspicion that perhaps he did know about your flings after all begins to settle in your mind, but it isn’t until his following words that it finally takes roots.
“Don’t hide it, Y/N—I know you’ve seen others. And quite frequently too!”
“You’re… you’re doing the same thing.” You immediately respond, scurrying to defend yourself. “And you don’t see me complaining…”
Even if you wanted so much to do so.
“No, of course not—too busy with them, aren’t you??”
“Excuse me? You’re—You’re one to talk! You never answered any of my texts, or calls!” you gasp. “Do you even know how… how…”
Hurt I was?
Guessing by his absence, you assume not.
… Oh, how you wished Naoya kept silent. Kept his words to himself and went on acting as he always did, because maybe, you wouldn’t have felt this burning anger stirring inside you, created by the reassurance by those around you, the reminder that you were still deserving of being cared for, appreciated.
Far more than what Naoya has ever done for you in the past few years.
That much you see now.
“… Let me get this straight, Naoya… you want me to come back… because you don’t want me to see others, even though you did the same thing??” you say, and by the gloomy look in Naoya’s eyes, you could tell you guessed right, stinging a nerve while in the process.
Yet not a sentiment that insulted him, but rather… reminded him of the shocking truth he’s keeping away from you.
Hoping it stays that way, unless you place the pieces together yourself.
“Do not talk to me like that.” He warns, you frown.
“I’m just stating the truth—you went to see someone as soon as you left that day, didn’t you?”
“That’s not—why does it even matter at this point? You did the same afterwards!”
“Again with that—You were the one that suggested it in the first place!” you gasp. “Why does it bother you so much?? Didn’t you…. Weren’t you encouraging me to it?!”
“Yeah, but it’s not like I expected you to actually—”
Realizing the imprudence of his words, he suddenly goes silent.
“Expected to actually… what?” you frown.
Naoya doesn’t answer, all he does is scoff before looking away.
A few more seconds of silence, something clicks in your mind.
Anger finally taking a hold of your emotions.
Because just how foolish could you have been?
“Please, come back.” Is what Naoya eventually says. “I don’t want an open relationship anymore—let’s just forget about this and… move on.”
“And why would I do that?” you scowl. “Don’t you have other dates to go to?”
Silence yet again.
“Naoya?”
“I don’t. I… never did.”
The truth jolts you far more than you imagined, for it completely contradicts all that you once believed to be true, replacing the pain you’d been feeling since that day, the tears, the anger, and all your actions… with nothing.
As if everything you suffered… was void of any true meaning.
But that was only one point of view, you had yet to see Naoya’s. The truth as to why he hadn’t gotten any dates.
Or at least… successful ones.
Naoya did go out with women that caught his interest, having his go-to procedure ready to go when it came to impressing them, such as taken them to an expensive restaurant, gifting them luxurious jewelry, or simply showing off the privilege his family name provided— things he was sure would get him in their pants.
But when he thought it was only a matter of seconds before he got lucky, they would coldly ignore him, turn around, and… disappear.
It was difficult for him to understand why that happened, considering all that he “offered” …
What he failed to realize, though, is that one simple yet big problem stood between him and his ultimate goal: a personality many weren’t willing to tolerate, especially with the intensity he seemed to go on about, no matter the amount of riches he represented.
And soon, it wouldn’t take long before rumors of his personality began to spread into the circles he was involved in, not like it wasn’t happening already beforehand, Naoya was already well-known as a bratty heir with an equally explosive temperament—he just became more… popular.
Rumors he never had issues with, unbothered by them, because you… well, you seemed to not care for them. Willingly tolerating him instead, perhaps far more than he was deserving of, and keeping by his side, no matter what.
Giving him a false sense of confidence.
Unfortunately, he wouldn’t come to realize this until seeing you with someone else—whispers and sightings of your dates, far more successful than any of his attempts, and without even trying, was enough to ignite a fire under his ass and come rushing to you.
Falsely believing it was just a matter of calling it off for everything to return as it was—you by his side, and his blinding jealousy effectively gone. Because only he deserved to have you.
Failing to realize the damage he’s already struck onto this relationship,
Yet, he still came back, shamelessly expecting he’d be received with the forgiveness, compassion and care you unconditionally provided, no matter the gravity of his mistakes…
But what seemed noble, prophetic even, for him—
Was only insulting to you, and when the nature of his actions reveals itself to you, your anger transforms intofury.
Because a man like Naoya shouldn’t have the freedom to openly discard you, and then want you back when things aren’t going his way—without facing consequences.
You were not there to be a steppingstone of sorts, be there through every single step of the road, sacrifice your life… only to be replaced just because he wants.
It was painful, it was unjust…
And it was unpunished.
For him to make it up for you, he’ll have to face the repercussions of his acts, experience just how much you suffered…
Only then, would you consider going back to him.
“I’m sorry, but I have things to do.”
“What?” Naoya’s eyes widen. “What do you mean you have things to do, Y/N? What could you…—you’re going to see someone.”
“And what if I am?” you frown. “I’m not doing anything I’m not allowed to do.”
“I don’t want this anymore!” He gasps. “I don’t want you to see anyone else, just me!”
“…Then you’ll just have to wait until I’m done. Until I’m sure we belong together, you know? You said so yourself, I just need to get it out of my system before I make a decision—” At being served a spoonful of his own medicine, the color in Naoya’s face disappears. “Only then, will I’ll come back.”
If you ever do.
“Y/N—Wait!”
Because after what you have planned for the following weeks, Naoya would only be lucky if you even do as little as think of him.
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Shoko is the one that let everyone know of your new "single" life. Except Sukuna, that man has ears everywhere, and when he saw it as his moment, he rose to the occasion. Nice.
Not gonna lie, this idea has been on my mind for a while now, like, as soon as Y/N is single people begin to hound her. Everyoneeeeeeeee Naoya really does not realize the stupidity he committed until it's too late. :)
And there you have it, my take on an open relationship with him! I once read that open relationships don't work, unless you're talking about celebrities, and I'm honestly inclined to accept that...
But yeah, him doing this is like the worst thing Naoya could think of; there's just so many things that could go wrong—safe to say, in another universe 1) Naoya would never suggest it. 2) Y/N would never accept it lol.
Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask! I hope it was to your liking :> ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Take care, and hope to see you soon!
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miam0re · 10 months
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Overheard Fantasies | Honkai Star Rail
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Warning: Fantasies(mentions) of- Group Sex/Gang Bang, Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, Anal stuff, spanking, biting, deep throating, cum swallowing, more stuff i probably missed
Summary: And there you were with your best friends, talking about your fantasies of fucking the men you've met...who happen to be hearing your conversation from the other room
Pairings: Welt Yang, Jing Yuan, Gepard X Fem!Reader (together)
Mia's Notes: Yooo This was inspired by THIS ASK asked by @cxxmine lots of love for the ask!! I wanted to include whichever men i could but Im not too good with writing group stuff so I thought I'd write for 3! If you all like it then maybe I can write more owo but yep this is it for now, I hope you enjoy it mwah mwah Ps bold text is you talking and the normal text is their reaction
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“Oh, Mr.Yang? He’s such a dilf, ya know? Like I would totally spread my legs wide open for him-oh or maybe just sit on his face- and I just know that he’s got the most skilled tongue ever. Would I call him ‘daddy’? Absolutely yes. Would I start whoring out if he called me his dearest little one? You bet I would be an obedient girl for him while all the other guys watch me be good for him."
Your sweet Mr.Welt Yang coughs into his fist, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, imagining it accidentally bump against your clit while he eats you. Really, he wasn’t that much older than them in looks…but apparently, in your eyes, you considered him a ‘Daddy’. Maybe he would almost immediately get addicted to the taste of your leaking juices, lapping them up greedily the way he’s imagined so many times. Yes, he’d desire for you to be a good girl for him, he doesn’t have the time to tame you and discipline you. But maybe a few harsh bites to your thighs, leaving marks of his presence ought to do the trick. 
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“I’d let him play with my ass while I’m being eaten out by Welt. I just get this feeling that he has the biggest thing for asses like have you guys noticed how his eyes keep wandering down when I walk in front of him? And if you’re asking if I’d let him stuff my hole…perhaps. I bet he has a collection of toys. Yeah…I wanna use them. I would also shamelessly ride his fingers if he asked me to.”
He’s smiling to himself, a slight glimmer in his golden eyes with faint pink dusting his cheeks. You are quite the observant lass aren’t you? Seeing the way his eyes have been stealing glances at your plush ass. And since you’re so willing to permit him to have his way with you, maybe he would stuff you with one of the many plugs in his possession. All different shapes and sizes that will stimulate you till you’re convulsing and rolling your eyes to the back of your skull. If you’re good for him, maybe he’ll smack your butt to sear his touch into your skin for you to never forget. And if nothing else, he’s got his long slender fingers that he can thrust into your puckered up hole till you’re loose and prepared for his cock. 
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“Awww I’d love to see his face all flustered and red as he tries to keep his composed self. Definitely going to give him head in this situation. Kiss his pretty red tip and run my hands up and down his thick cock- you know he’s gotta be sporting a monster behind those pants with a body and adorable personality like that. Roll my tongue all over the length till he’s shaking and cumming on me.”
Oh my…oh dear…Gerard has gone as red as a tomato, covering his burning ears to cool them and try to not let any more of your vulgar thoughts corrupt his mind. But he’s already too far gone, imagining having your hair in a fist while pushing you down on his generous length, watching how you so professionally swallow it all up, hollowing your cheeks to vacuum around his hot dick. Oh god, he’s imagining the way you’ll drool all over him and then lick him base to tip to clean the saliva and precum. If you’ll go on looking at him with those dazed eyes, he might just shoot a heavy load down your throat, clutching the back of your neck to keep you in place as he bucks into you. 
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The three men accidentally make eye contact with each other, breaking the uncomfortable gaze and bouncing on their heels, hands in their pockets to adjust their growing boners. 
Will any of them make the first move to talk to you? I guess it’s up to March to decide how this plays out!!
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quin-ns · 11 months
Note
hey ! may i request some fluff with ethan landry where he thinks she’s asleep so he whispers i love you to her but she was actually awake? (can either be established relationship or not) you can decide how she reacts :))
im so glad i found your blog because you write for many of the things that i like and it honestly felt like i hit jackpot seeing your masterlist. feel free to turn down this request/change it up !!hope u are having a good day/night <3
aw well I’m happy you found me! 🫶
writing this as a quick drabble/ficlet bc I like the idea but can’t think of a whole fic lol- enjoy!
Whispers (Ethan Landry x Reader)
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You weren’t going to the party at first, but all of your friends were going and you didn’t wanna feel left out.
Getting drunk wasn’t exactly the plan either. However, you were already getting your ass kicked by classes and you wanted to let loose.
Your friends encouraged you as they did the same, all of you keeping an eye on each other.
Except, you got a bit too far ahead and ended up having to leave your friends Tara and Mindy behind on the dance floor (aka, the frat house living room floor). You ended up on a couch nearby and closed your eyes, trying to zone out and not focus on the headache-inducing music.
Did it have to be so loud?
You felt someone sit down next to you and you heard a familiar voice ask you a question.
“You alright?”
You didn’t have to look to know it was your friend Ethan. You could tell his voice anywhere, the two of you were pretty close. You and Ethan liked a lot of the same stuff and it was easy to talk to him about pretty much anything.
You met him a while ago and coincidentally, his roommate was the brother to your friend Mindy. You all ended up hanging out in a group after realizing that.
“A little too drunk,” you admitted, your head lolling to the side. You opened yours eyes and found him watching you curiously. “And very tired.”
“If you’re tired I can walk you back to your place.”
You made a noise of disapproval.
“It’s so far off campus, I’d rather just sleep here.”
Sinking into the couch felt like a really good idea.
“My dorm isn’t that far,” Ethan suggested with a shy smile. “Chad won’t care and it’s a weekend so you don’t gotta worry about class.”
You did take him up on that offer.
“You’re so sweet,” you told him as the two of you entered his apartment. You laughed to yourself, feeling quite lightheaded. “And cute.”
Ethan smiled at that. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, but it’s a secret, so shhh,” you told him. You had a pretty huge crush on him, but you’d tried to keep it under wraps in order to maintain your friendship. But your words were coming out before you could stop them.
God, you were tired.
“Well, you’re pretty cute too,” Ethan said, then quickly changed topics when you didn’t respond right away. “You can take my bed, I’ll crash in the chair.”
He pointed towards a sad little beat up recliner.
You snorted. “No way, we can share.”
Ethan and Chad didn’t have bunk beds, so it was easy to kick off your shoes and climb into his bed. Another day you might’ve been more graceful, but it looked so comfortable and you couldn’t resist. Ethan did the same, not even changing into pajamas.
The two of you laid side by side and you tried to bite back a smile at the thought of being in bed with Ethan.
You rolled to the side, facing the wall, and closed your eyes. You were insanely exhausted and drunk, and really, really wanted to sleep.
“Goodnight, Ethan,” you mumbled to him. “And thanks for this.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he responded. There was a moment of silence where you thought he was going to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he just said, “Goodnight.”
You started to drift off to sleep, getting comfortable. Maybe ten minutes passed and you should’ve been asleep, but you weren’t.
“Are you awake?” Ethan asked softly.
You were right on the edge of falling asleep finally and you knew if you started talking, that would never happen. Whatever he had to say, you two could talk about it tomorrow.
“I guess you are asleep… and now I’m just talking to myself.” Ethan laughed a little and you tried not to smile. “That’s okay, you need sleep. I just wanted to say… I’m glad you trust me and that I can be here for you. I like being your friend, and I—I like you, y’know?”
It was quiet for a long moment. Your breathing remained steady and you thought maybe he’d closed his eyes and drifted off.
Instead, he rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm over your body.
“I really like you, actually. Like I lot… as more than just a friend,” Ethan continued in a whisper. You could feel his heart racing against your back and you tried to not let on that you were awake. “Maybe even love you, but that’s crazy, right? We’re not even dating and I think I’m in love with you…
You really wanted to open your eyes, but you didn’t want to embarrass him. He’d just poured his heart out, it didn’t seem like the right move to surprise him.
“I’ll tell you for real someday, if I can ever get the courage to ask you out.”
You hoped that was a promise that Ethan could keep. You liked him too—a lot—and hopefully that day he’d ask you out would come soon. You really wanted to see how things would go because you had a feeling that you could be in love him too.
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lilac-5ky · 5 months
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The Party (Satoru x Fem!Reader)
Plot: You decide to surprise your boyfriend on his birthday
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Tags: Birthday fluff, Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Shibuya incident?What Shibuya incident? (year is 2018), Established Relationship, Gojo Senpai, Satoru being the adorable menace everyone loves, SO. MANY. CHARACTERS. MAKING. APPEARANCES, feels like an actual jjk ep at this point, (fic deteriorates a bit over the latter part as my mental health does, writing until 6 am is exhausting, i know im late but spare me)
Word Count: Slightly under 9k.
A/N: Happy late Birthday, my love 💙💙💙
Masterlist | Requests | AO3
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“Are we there yet?”
“Almost there—watch your step!” You warn, only to lose your footing a second later as you smash head first into your boyfriend’s back.
There is no way Satoru doesn’t know where the two of you are headed. Even with his technique supposedly turned off and your shaky hands concealing his curious eyes, all the things that make Jujutsu Tech into the place that raised generations of sorcerers (yours, included) continue to exist, bearing witness to his intentionally dumb guesses.
“Is it the beach? Are you taking me to see the ocean?” Satoru excites. “Aw, baby! You should have told me so; I would have brought my swimming trunks with! Although, I hafta say swimming in December is probably a bad idea, my nipples will freeze and fall right off. You wouldn’t want that, right?”
A sigh evades your lips, expelled as a little white cloud of frustration. On second thought, his mouth was what needed to be covered. Preferably stitched.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we aren’t going to the beach”—aw, shoot—“and your nipples get to live another day.” Your teeth chatter. Tiptoeing behind him with upstretched arms is already hard on its own. Doing so in the cold is purely exhausting.
You lose count of how many torii gates you cross, the joint click of your shoes switching to an uncoordinated thump as you go from traversing cobblestone paths to climbing an endless uphill of stairs, your stroll, again, feeling like part of a survival show. Curse Master Tengen. They might have only been responsible for the barriers, though in your scare, that doesn’t stop you from holding them accountable.
We are going to die.
Or more like you are going to die, considering Satoru’s already secured himself a life net in the form of your poor broken-to-be bones, and that’s the best case scenario you can hope for, the worst being having to repeat your ascension from the bottom step up.
“Then, are we visiting Himeji Castle?” Satoru continues, the frigid temperature not enough to crack his spirit. “Because I know the single best place for Tama Tsubaki. So fragrant, so elegant, so deliciously sweet! You haven’t been to Himeji before, have you? It’s also known for its excellent leather craftsmanship. Last time I went there, they had these insanely pretty wallets with—”
“N-no!” You yelp, voice as strained as if you’re walking on a tightrope. Shivering, “Wouldn’t you have noticed if I took you on a 4-hour road trip?”
“But time always moves so fast when I’m with you.” He coos in response, his tone serious when he asks, “Wanna take a break? Promise to keep my eyes closed till we reach the top. And after that too, if you want.”
Silky lashes map out the inside of your palms as they flutter against them, sweet little butterfly kisses that convince you to withdraw your hands. After all, you’d hate for his birthday to be stained with blood.
Not yours, at least.
“If you dare open them, I’ll kill you.”
“How scary!” Satoru captures your frozen hand and slips it in his coat’s pocket with far too great precision for someone with impaired vision. You don’t complain. Not even when he makes you bump into every single step on your way up, giggling to himself, until, as promised, you reach the summit and he lets go for you to assume your previous positions.
“I don’t”—pant—“miss”—pant—“walking this w-walk.” You muster in between labored breaths, palms on your knees as you crouch forward like an elderly lady with chronic back pain. “Wh-what are you smiling for?”
“Nooooooothing!” Satoru chirps, soft dimples carving hard into his milky complexion. “Just takes me back to the time when you still called me Gojo Senpai is all.”
Your youth comes playing in your head like an old cassette forced to rewind, bittersweet recollections sending you on a sudden trip down memory lane.
You met Satoru at the peak of spring and fell in love with him over the course of fall—a swirl of autumn leaves coloring the currently naked maple trees red. Muddy soles and uniforms soggy from the rain. Chasing after an umbrella you agreed to share and hopscotching across shallow puddles. Laughing louder than the pending storm.
But before that, bickering. So much bickering that continuously tested the patience of those around you, arguments over video games escorting you to morning assembly, and plans to catch new movie releases sealing your goodbyes.
The bitterness of Shoko’s cigarettes and the promise to never smoke again. Arcades and electronics in Akihabara. Karaoke and conveyor belt sushi in Shibuya. Getting a stranger to buy you your first beer and puking your guts outside a convenience store in Shinjuku. The promise to never drink again.
Moon-viewing festival. The unforgettable sight of him in a yukata, your heart multiplying itself into your eyes. Stolen glances and not-so-accidental nudges. Your first kiss tasting of melon soda, your second burning faster than the wick of his sparkler. Another kind of promise.
The giddiness of first love filters the film pink. Five-minute dates behind the old gym in flash forward. Late-night expeditions to each other’s dorms. Your loss of innocence overshadowed by the sudden loss of Haibara. Tears that threaten to spill out of the sequence. Suguru’s betrayal. The strength to move forward.
You’ve come a long way since the days you cheekily called him Gojo Senpai without a care in the world, and even though tragedy managed to forever sully them, standing here with him now makes it worth the pain. Given the chance, you’d do it all over again.
Rolling the cricks around your neck and shoulders, you walk up to Satoru, a tug at the lowest hanging tuft of hair signaling for him to meet your height. Knees bent. Eyes still closed. Lips still curled. Features so undeniably beautiful at 29 as they were at 17.
“Don’t move.” You mumble, smiling softly as you watch him pucker his lips in anticipation of a kiss. Instead, you fish out a pair of rectangular shades from inside your pocket and place them over the bridge of his nose.
“Let’s go before we get scolded for being late again.” Your hand steals his this time around, ushering him forward. A speckle of heat shooting from your fingers to your cheeks. “I trust you not to spoil your own surprise, Gojo Senpai.”
You are less than thirty steps away from your destination when, without a warning, the man behind you stops moving, forcing you to halt with him.
“What is it?” You ask, your body reeled closer to his from the bind of your fingers. “If you’re gonna ask whether I’m taking you to Laputa, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m still figuring out the coordinates.”
“That’s not it.” He huffs a chuckle against your knuckles, tenderly brushing them against his cheek. “But drop a pin when you do. Always wanted to take a nap in that fluffy flower bed. I’m sure it tastes fluffy too, just like whipped cream.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” You return, a yawn coaxed at the mention of napping. “So, what is it? Why did we stop?”
“I’m cold.”
“Well, so am I, but we really are close this time. If you just—”
“You should kiss me.” Satoru announces with solemnity better befitting a declaration of war. He realizes that himself, bringing his free hand to ruffle the hair on the back of his skull. Awkwardly. Ears tinged red. Cutely. “That would warm me up.”
“Is that your excuse?” You ask, chapped lips rubbing together. Your heartbeat felt in your throat. You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Not when you’ve known each other for the better part of your lives. It’s not normal. You don’t think you are.
“Nope.” He balances things out with a boyish smile that doesn’t make things any better for the lovesick teenage girl residing in your heart. She doesn’t know any better but to fawn over it. “My excuse is that we haven’t kissed here before. We’ve kissed there,” you follow his pointer, first to a bench made of stone and then to a blind spot behind some shrubs, “and there—many times there, heh, but not here. So we should kiss.” He reasons with a simplistic, nearly childish mindset. One you can’t quite argue against.
Until his spell breaks on you rather unceremoniously.
“I thought your eyes were closed!”
“Well, they were, but then I—hah, stop pullin’ like that—started missing your pretty face too much. Can’t deny me the simple joys in life, sweet cheeks.” He grins. “C’mon, just one kiss. Then we can meet with Yuji and the others. Promise I’ll act extra surprised!”
“Y-you knew?” Your eyes widen.
“I’ve known for about a week now? Heard you two talking on the phone, plus the kids asked to be put on cleaning duty when they usually leave everything to Megumi. Then a ton of chairs started to go missing, and—”
You barely bother listening to the rest, too caught up in your thoughts for Satoru’s detailed explanation of where it all went wrong to matter. Every year without exception—from your 16th birthday party-for-two in that tiny storage room you were accidentally locked in together to last year’s all-out murder mystery dinner party—he’s managed to sweep you off your feet, and yet you can’t throw him one party without it being spoiled.
You aren’t a planner. You know that. You know, but somehow you hoped this year would be different. That, twelve years after his insistence to spend his birthday in your company alone took root, (“Why would I want to spend this day with anyone other than you, angel? We have tons of fun together, don’t we? Just me and my special girl. Speaking of, any special requests for your birthday? I have some ideas myself, hehe~”) and one year after he stopped waiting for an apparition to show up and celebrate with him, he’d allow himself to bask in the appreciation of the living.
“Are you mad?”
The buzz of his voice quiets down, the paleness of a winter morning dawning beneath snowy lashes as he peers at you from above the rim of his sunglasses. Snowflakes of wonder stirring in his irises that contain them like two perfect snow globes, trapped in them, an ageless moment of the past.
“I’m relieved.” Satoru whispers, so faintly you almost miss it.
“Re…lieved?”
“You brought everyone here, right?” You nod. “Without blackmailing anyone?”
“Just Nanami.” You admit. “And Ijichi—Shoko promised to take him out for drinks if he came.”
“That’s good.” His lips pull into a smile warm enough to thaw your worries. “Honestly, I’m not the biggest fan of my own birthday.”
“I’ve noticed,” you interrupt. “You aren’t the only one perceptive here, Mister Six-Eyes.”
He gives you a funny look, creases forming over his brow as an imaginary zipper is drawn across the corners of his lips.
You unzip it. “Please continue, Great Gojo Senpai.”
His eyes light up. Satoru isn’t one for honorifics, yet hearing you address him as such makes the lovesick teenage boy in his heart shudder with excitement.
“You know what birthday I got the biggest haul for?” A shake of your head prompts him to continue. “Seventh.” Figures, you add. He nods. “Wanna know what they got me? A Hokusai painting. You know. One of those wavy ones.” Only he would ever refer to a Japanese classic that way. “But seven-year-old kids don’t care about dead people’s paintings or Shinto shrine visits. They want adventure, balloons, and luscious Gâteau au Chocolat. The new Street Fighter game, maybe.” His fingers snap together. “They want Laputa.”
You forget your hand is still in his until it’s given a light squeeze, Satoru nervously fiddling with your fingers while he mulls over what to say next.
“Bottom line is, birthdays with the clan suuuuuucked. And then, as I got older, I grew tall enough to outrun those stupid goons watching over me. So I’d run straight to Suguru’s house, drag him to the station, and from there, we’d go to that one pastry shop in Shinjuku and buy every cake on display. We’d eat till we both got sick—hah, you wouldn’t think his stomach was this sensitive with all those curses he gobbled up, right?—and then a few years later we met Shoko, and she’d put out her cigarette on my share.” He hisses like a distressed cat. “Then we met you”—another squeeze—“and those were the best birthdays of my life. Back when we were all together.”
“Satoru—”
“I didn’t think I could have that again.” He cuts you off. “But you said you got everyone together, and while some of us are no longer here, a lot are. This is good. You did well. I’m relieved, really. I’m happy.”
By the time Satoru finishes talking, you find yourself at a loss for words, blankly staring at his unaffected expression. It’s easy to forget how vulnerable he can be in those rare outbursts of sincerity; easy to forget that the one branded as the strongest is a person who cries and breaks too, and even easier to let yourself be deceived by that happy-go-lucky attitude. But as a smile begins to take shape upon your features, you can see where he’s coming from.
You are relieved.
“What are you smiling for?” Satoru asks in the same manner you did earlier.
“Nooooooothing!” You shamelessly steal his line. “Just thinking about the sorry look on your face when you realize there’s no chocolate cake.”
“You evil witch!” He proclaims, mouth hanging slack and forefinger pointing in accusation. “Next you’re gonna tell me you didn’t buy candles either!”
“Actually…”
You take hold of his finger before he can protest any further. Not that he wants to when both his hands are enveloped in the warmth of your smaller ones, childishly swinging by your sides. Back and forth. Up and down. Round and round. Arms overlapping as you both step closer, chuckling at a joke only your eyes seem to know.
“About that kiss.” You begin, laughing again at the small, exasperated mhm your boyfriend lets out, his Adam’s apple bobbing under the high neck of his sweater. “Are you still feeling cold?”
“So cold.” Satoru wiggles his shoulders as if he’s truly shivering. “Warm me up before the cold hand of death takes me away. Pleaseeeee.”
You aren’t one to deny him. Tiptoeing forward, you crane your neck so you can reach higher, while he bends his knees to shorten himself, meeting you halfway. Heavy breaths are shared as your noses brush together. The subtle notes of bergamot on his clothes blending with the wintry crisp in the atmosphere. Eagerness tugging at his bottom lip.
You might not be one to deny him, but you definitely are the type to tease him.
“Why don’t you do it? Why should I be the one to kiss you?”
“Wha—because I asked you!” Satoru quips.
“And?”
“And I have Senpai rights. Plus you didn’t pay boyfriend tax this morning, and come think of it, you didn’t wish me a Happy Birthday either!” He gasps like he only realized that just now. He builds his entire case around it. “Birthday Boy demands it. You have no choice but to give in or you’ll be cursed for your next seven birthdays!”
“But I thought you didn’t like your own birthday.”
“Baby!” Satoru finally breaks, his voice reduced to a high-pitched whine. “Even so, you can’t be mean to me on my own birthd—”
His lips are warmer than yours when you nullify the distance, conveying the softness and fruitiness of your stolen chapstick. A smirk is written on them, bitten away as you drag his hands closer to your body, foreheads bumping together and sunglasses nearly slipping from his nose. He giggles into your mouth, whispering how hot he finds it when you take the lead—moaning at the way your tongue presses against his, and disregarding the three sets of footsteps that enter the scene.
“Sensei!” A somewhat recognizable, albeit squeaky, voice calls out. “We’ve been waiting for you!”
“Way to ruin the surprise, Itadori!” Another, angrier, squeaky voice scolds.
“Idiot, you just said there was a surprise. And I told you both to go easy on the hellion.” The last of their group tries to deadpan, somehow sounding more ridiculous than his peers.
“Pft—F-Fushiguro!” Nobara and Yuji laugh in sync, too preoccupied with poking fun at their classmate to notice your form erasing itself from existence behind Satoru’s back as he turns around to face them.
“Yuji! Nobara! Megumiiiii!” His tone is colored with a falsetto when he addresses his favorite (target) student, prompting the duo to keep harassing him with countless pokes at his confetti-laced spikes.
Your plan to use poor Megumi’s torture as a decoy to flee the premises goes to waste as your hand is held out in the open, with Satoru showing you off to them like the big prize at the end of a wrestling match.
“Oh, future Mrs. Gojo Sensei!” Yuji is the first to acknowledge your presence; the effects of the gas are all but worn off as he timidly waves at you. “I didn’t know you were here! What brings you to school today?”
“That’s quite the title, Yuji. Told you to just—ugh!—call me by my first name.” You struggle to pull your wrist out of Satoru’s grasp. You lose. “Also, no need to keep playing charades. He knows.”
“You told him? Then what was all of this for?” Nobara comes forth, a pink balloon dramatically deflating in her hands.
“Actually, I figured it out myself! Aren’t you proud to have such a smart teach—”
“No!” Two out of three shout in unison. You almost do so yourself.
After their back and forth escalates into a full-blown debate on who’s more intelligent, Satoru or Megumi’s shikigami (the results to be announced on a future episode of Are You Smarter than a Toad?) and happy birthdays are wished, Yuji asks the one question you feared answering the most.
“Sensei? Miss Y/N? What were you doing out there in the cold?”
Their own curiosity beats Megumi and Nobara to the classroom as they stall their entrance, with Satoru being the first to hit the buzzer.
“You see, Yuji, when a man and a woman love each other very much, they—ahahouch! Love really does hurt! It hurts so badly!” He yelps as you stomp on his foot hard enough to cripple an average man.
“Don’t you dare use me as a test subject for the talk, Satoru!”
“What talk, darlin’?” He smiles coyly, not losing the chance to brag. “Oh, you mean the talk about how you fell victim to my charms and couldn’t wait till we were alone to kiss me? Guess I still got it, despite the extra candle on the cake.”
“Aww!”
“Eww!”
“Gross!”
The reactions vary.
“You’ll get another candle lit up in your memory if you keep spewing shit like this!” Your attempt to step on his shoe is countered by his technique.
“Hey, no cursing in front of my precious students!” Satoru chides. “We’re supposed to set an example for them, not taint their innocent souls!”
“Satoru!” With a tremendous roar, the door flies open, startling the three students to jump behind their teacher and you to follow suit.
Principle Yaga stands by the frame, his authoritative tone coursing through your body as it recalls every punishment he ever subjected you to. The soreness in your calves from running laps around school for being late. The dryness in your eyes after surviving one of his excruciating educational VHS tape sessions for being “cheeky” and the ache in your fingers from scrubbing the gym floors squeaky clean—courtesy of being caught sneaking back into the dorm with tousled hair in the dead of night.
You almost feel sorry for Satoru acting as the wavebreaker for the incoming tsunami, but then you remember how the majority of your crimes were incidentally committed in his name and wish him good luck. He deserves whatever earful he gets, possibly something along the lines of “Sixteen minutes late? Are you trying to break a world record?”
“You think Gojo Sensei will die?” Yuji whispers. “He’s at that age when a lot of celebrities die, right?”
“He’d better not! I didn’t bring any funeral wear with me.” Nobara answers back.
“Can’t you read the room?” Megumi rasps. “Plus, that’s the 27 Club you’re talking about. Gojo Sensei has outlived that.”
“Didn’t take you for a clubgoer, Fushiguro.” The two of them snicker, prompting Megumi to sigh as he again points out their idiocy.
“Principal Yaga!” Satoru bravely puts himself forward, your line of defense falling apart like a house of cards you’re made to support on your own. “Are you here to wish me a happy birthday? How thoughtful! Guess it’s true what they say: People mellow down with age.”
“Sixteen minutes late—”
The man’s mouth twitches furiously as an invisible countdown starts in all your heads, none of you expecting the situation to simmer down before it boils over.
“But I’ll let it slide this once. Happy birthday, Satoru. I’ve stopped hoping that the years bring you wisdom and fix your bad habits. It’s pointless; every year you turn more impudent than the year before,”—is that supposed to be a birthday wish or you getting kicks from throwing shade at me?—“but I wish they bring you happiness. I made this with you in mind. Hope it’s to your liking.”
You watch as Principal Yaga reveals a felt doll from behind his back, handing it to a repulsed Satoru, who makes no effort to conceal his personal feelings, let alone express gratitude.
“Huh? What’s that supposed to be?” He asks, shaking the doll so quickly you only catch a glimpse of its fluffy white tail and stitched black sunglasses—a cat?
“It’s you.” Its maker replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And he has a name. Satoru, say hello to Catoru.”
Four of you share a look among yourselves, too stunned to say a thing until Satoru and his doll counterpart face you, the latter being held up by the scruff of his neck. Just like an actual cat.
“Do I look like this?” Satoru asks, and you all go quiet, with three hands simultaneously nudging you to represent them. Traitors!
“I mean, there are times when you do act like a cat—kinda?” Your voice is pinched up, hands moving frantically to dispute your words as your boyfriend’s face turns sourer than umeboshi. “But you look ten times—no, a hundred times more handsome! I promise! If anything, you resemble a—uh, Turkish Angora? Those are super beautiful!”
“You’d better get along.” Yaga warns. “I designed Catoru with a sweet tooth like you.”
“I don’t want a little mochi thief in my house!”
Yaga marches back into class without waiting to hear Satoru’s concerns about the impending depletion of his secret mochi stash. The kids tail after him, leaving you to comfort Satoru with a gentle pat on his back. “Let’s go inside, mm?”
The atmosphere inside the classroom is significantly more promising than what Yuji showed you on FaceTime this morning. All desks are pulled to the side in a rough T formation, with the spread of food you spent two nights making carefully put in order, from platters full of golden-crusted corn dogs and crispy chicken fingers to dainty cupcakes decorated with Konpeito candy and colorful mochi of every filling you could think of. Inumaki serves bar, and you’re pleased to see people returning for seconds, with Yuji waving his hands while praising your popping candy cake poppers to his taciturn upperclassman.
Balloons hang near the ceiling—a flag garland dangling from one end of the blackboard to the other. A gigantic birthday message spans across the surface, with smaller wishes sprinkled in abundance, some consisting of mere congratulations and others expressed with heartfelt emotion. You can easily guess who wrote what based on handwriting alone; Megumi’s by far the tidiest.
You knew leaving the decorations to Nobara was a smart choice. She knows it too. She doesn’t waste the chance to boast to Maki about it, the older girl twirling a bouquet made of lollipops between her fingers while gazing at the drifting clouds outside the window.
Satoru was right. This is good. You have every reason to be proud, too.
In the far back of the room, the adults have struck up a conversation with Panda, who snaps a picture of your entrance. The two party poopers—Ijichi and Nanami—look up from their quiet exchange.
“Satoru! You came!” Principal Yaga’s pride and joy steps forward with open arms, a party hat pulled taut between his round ears. “Congratulations on your birthday,” says Panda, planting two identical party hats on your heads. “Let me take a picture of the two of you. Couldn’t get an angle from back there.”
Your shoulders get squeezed as Satoru smooshes your faces together, the pointy tip of his hat nearly taking your eye out when he tries to steal a kiss from your cheek. You squint—and snap!
“Hey, can you take another? I think I wasn’t looking straight.”
“No do-overs!” Satoru interferes before Panda can even open his mouth. “Don’t worry! Getting a bad picture of you is impossible when you look perfect at any given time. Right, Panda?”
His former student glances down at the camera, letting out the exact same sound your computer makes when a Windows program crashes, and then rushing to mask it with a hearty chortle.
“Of course, Satoru! You got very lucky; Y/N is as beautiful as she is kind-hearted.” He shows you a grin that’s mostly teeth. “You know, she worked really hard for this party. We barely did anything ourselves.”
Not true; you all did your part…
Your eye is endangered once more, with his lips finding their target this time around. “That’s my vanilla caramel drizzle cupcake muffin baumkuchen pie to ya!”
That’s half your macchiato and half your bakery order, you argue silently.
“Shame Yuta couldn’t make it.” Panda continues. “Heard he’s down with a cold, though he did send you his gift via Maki.” A fuzzy thumb points at the closet-turned-gift-depository, where various bags and packages are stacked into a pyramid. “Anyway. I’ll let the two of you mingle. Come over if ya want more pictures of you taken. Got lots of props too.”
Your eyes follow as he returns to his post, spotting Shoko experimenting with a pair of groucho glasses. Nanami shakes his head disapprovingly, leaning back into his chair while Ijichi’s stutter is visible from where you and Satoru stand.
You glance up at him, a default smile plastered on his lips. Unreadable to others, but painfully obvious to you. The face he’s searching for is not among those present.
“Everyone seems to be having fun.” Satoru points out.
“Y-yeah.” You croak.
“Can’t believe you got everything down. Class looks like it did back then. Even the wobbly pom-pom on the party hats.” He squeezes the one on your head. “That caught me off guard.”
“Well, it would’ve been a greater surprise if you didn’t eavesdrop on my private phone calls.”
“That ain’t on me, sweets.” He whisks your hand into his and drags you onward. “Not my fault I was born with heightened senses. Better get used to it; our kids will probably take after me in that aspect.”
You shrug his comment off, watching as Satoru stows the cat away in the closet and dramatically dusts his hands off. “Another great addition to the world’s creepiest collection.” He grumbles.
“But Catoru is the cutest so far!” You object.
He is about to answer when a sound akin to that of someone choking has you both turning toward the makeshift buffet where Ijichi is downing water straight from the jug, his sunken cheeks a scarlet shade of red.
“Shit! He must’ve discovered the jalapeno poppers.” You bite your lips into a straight line, feeling somewhat responsible.
“Nice job!”
“It wasn’t my intention!”
Your plea of innocence doesn’t resonate with Satoru, who gives you a thumbs up before forming a cone around his mouth and shouting at Ijichi—chuckling at the hurried way the man searches for an escape between chairs and people.
“Ijichi! Oi, Ijichi! I-ji-chi! Over here! Come wish me a happy birthday!” He waves his arms around like Tom Hanks in Cast Away, declaring—unlike Tom Hanks—that he’s coming to him instead.
“Don’t go around terrorizing people, ‘Toru.” Your voice has him stopping his march to peck your lips.
“Promise I’ll be a good boy. You’re free to punish me if I’m not.” He smirks, finger-gunning you all the while stepping backwards in slow motion.
“You never are!”
“Hmm, that’s only because I’m the best. And you’d better prepare a handsome reward for when we get home, ‘cause the best always wins.” A flirtatious wink makes you question how many people listened in on your exchange, praying that the answer is none.
You take advantage of Satoru’s absence to pay a visit to your old friends, mentally counting the days since the last time you all gathered up. It’s been way too long—the beer you’d promised to catch up over turned into a distant fantasy.
“Gonna get yourself nauseous if you keep staring at that whirlpool, Shoko Senpai.” You plop down on the closest vacant chair, the bored brunette humming without lifting her eyes from the lemonade swirling inside her cup.
“If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will also gaze into you.” She states, managing to sound both mesmerized and disinterested at the same time.
“And? Seen anything yet?” You lean closer.
She retires with a sigh, dark circles looming below her hazelnut eyes. “Nothing yet.”
“How about now?”
Pulling your trump card—aka one of those miniature vodka bottles you specifically brought with her in mind—from your pocket, you pour a generous amount into her drink, reminiscing about the time she accidentally spiked Satoru’s soda and had him swimming on the floor.
It takes one sip for Shoko to liven up, a sudden jolt of energy coursing through her veins as she reaches out for the bottle.
“You’re a lifesaver, you know that?”
You chuckle. “Big praise coming from someone who actually saves lives.”
“Big words coming from people who openly drink in front of underage students.” The man to your left observes, absentmindedly picking at the tentacles of the octopus sausage on his plate.
“Kento! You made it!” You tip from one side of your chair to the other, arms dangling empty as he dodges your hug. “Having fun?”
“Please stop acting like him. I know the years in his company have caused your twisted personalities to merge, but the world is already wretched enough with one Gojo Satoru around.” He munches on the “good part” of the dissected octopus, discarding the tentacles inside a carefully folded napkin.
“But to answer your question, whether I’d rather spend my Friday afternoon explaining to everyone I know that the man in the picture dancing inappropriately with half-naked models in Ibiza isn’t me but a look-alike or sitting here, chaperoning a bunch of kids and making sure no one kills themselves, then yes. It’s not as horrible as I expected. And you’re as good of a cook as I remembered.” He wipes his mouth. “But I’m still clocking out at 7 sharp.”
“Come on! I did what I had to do to get you here!” You giggle, experiencing a little of the same rush Satoru feels when he’s poking fun at Ijichi. Oh no. “I am glad you’re enjoying the food, at least!”
A sound viler than any curse’s wail pierces through your ears as a TV cart is dragged into the room. You recognize it as Yaga’s old torture device—those five-hour black and white tapes gleaming menacingly on the lower shelves, with an unknown machine piled atop the cassette player. You aren’t sure what its purpose is until Yuji connects a microphone to it.
“Everyone—ah, ah, ah! Can you hear me?” The boy dabs a palm against the microphone, sounding loud and clear across the room. “Fushiguro, can you hear me? Fushiguro—ah, ah, ah!” The last of his ah’s interrupted by Megumi’s calling him out in front of their live audience.
“Everyone, thank you for coming to Gojo Sensei’s birthday party! I’m Itadori Yuji, and I’m happy to have co-hosted this event with Miss Y/N.”
A couple of heads turn in your direction, Satoru’s among them. It’s easy to make out his silhouette when he dwarfs everyone around him—Principle Yaga on his side and an antsy Ijichi lurking behind them.
“I enrolled in this school a little over a semester ago by accident.” Yuji continues undeterred. “Back then, I didn’t know any more about curses than the next person. Not that I do now.” He scratches through his hair. “Honestly, it was a lot to stomach, especially the part where I get to share my body with another. I was told I’d be better off dead, and I did die once. I was supposed to be dead, but then Gojo sensei gave me a choice, and I’m here because of that choice. More than a helping hand, he’s been a guiding light to me, and on behalf of all of us, thank you, and Happy Birthday!”He bows. “I hope you have a good one!”
Yuji holds out the microphone for Satoru, the two of them sharing a high five with an affectionate pat seeing the boy off.
“Thank you, Yuji, for this wonderful speech!” Satoru grins, evidently moved by his student’s words. “Everyoooooooooooone! Give it up for the man of the hour, the one and only, the most incredibly handsome and magnificently strong sorcerer known as Gooooooooooojo Saaaaatoruuuu!” His body twists in a pirouette, peace signs and heart signs flying everywhere as he lands with a finger pointing at where the imaginary camera would be.
Unsurprisingly, no one is impressed. Cricket sounds almost audible.
“Wow, okay. Tough crowd, I guess.” His lips comically jerk to one side of his face, his tone turning nasal before switching back. “I won’t bore you with individual thanks and other useless formality crap.”
He smirks at the way your mouth rounds a silent gasp. Nanami notices too, posing a question you shrug off.
“To cut it short: first-years! You’ve all proved yourselves as worthy sorcerers and worthier humans. As a reward, I’m proud to announce your reward in the form of a—c’mon guys, drum your desks a little!—luxurious, one of a kind, ten outta ten, uniquely planned field trip by moi!”
“Is it Paris? Are you taking us to Paris?” Nobara dreams out loud.
“Sensei! How about Universal Studio? I saw them post their newest churrito flavor on their webpage.”
“Can I sit this one out?” A gloomy murmur begs.
“Great thinking, Yuji! Unfortunately, Nobara, we won’t be going overseas this time, but, Megumi, you’ll definitely want to reconsider once you hear our destination, which iiiiiis—excitement is free, everyone!—Parque Espana!” Satoru claps for his suggestion.
Three dejected faces say pass in unison, with only Megumi daring to complain about Satoru taking him and Tsumiki to the theme park every second Sunday when the two were younger. You remember that. Some times you’d tag along, and you’d all grab ice cream while staring at that humongous roller coaster the kids were too short to ride.
Undefeated, Satoru directs his attention to the second-year students, the three of them loitering by the chip bowl. His tone turning grave, “Second years, I’m honestly very disappointed in all of you. In our two years of knowing each other, you never thought to throw your favorite teacher a party for his birthday. You’re lucky I don’t have the authority to drop you a grade, but still. You fail!”
“Fish Flakes!” Inumaki expresses his supposed disagreement.
“Huh? You never even told us when your birthday was because you didn’t want us knowing your real age, you blindfolded idiot!”
“Maki, not now!” Panda anxiously gets in her way. “Cool it!”
“You should have figured it out yourselves.” Satoru toots. “Moving forward! I’d like to give my special thanks to the moon of my life, my sun, and my stars.”—you knew watching Game of Thrones with him was a very bad idea—“Y/N! Come here, sweetie. Don’t be shy; everyone knows how much we love each other.
It almost feels like you have the limelight shining on you, with every person eagerly awaiting your response. You gulp hard, whispering so that only Nanami can hear. “You were right. Please save me.”
“What is it, Buttercup? You already have my heart, but if there’s anything you’d like for me to do, then now is the moment to say it.” Satoru smiles sweetly, his voice dripping with honey.
“Actually, there is. Can you put me down?” You kick your legs around while he hoists you up in bridal style, your unjust abduction having occurred in the blink of an eye.
“Anything and everything for you!” He kisses the top of your head, holding you close to him even after letting your feet touch the ground. “Alright, that’d be all! I hope everyone gets to have the time of their lives. Now, let’s get this party started!” He throws the microphone up in the air.
Nothing happens.
“I said, let’s get this party star—whatever.” Satoru gives up half-way through raising his arm again. “Yuji, play something fun!”
“On it!” Yuji salutes him, and the two of you walk away from the blackboard.
A faint sigh echoes behind you, its relief cut short as Satoru grabs the microphone once more. “Ah, right. Ijichi, I’ll see you in my office on Monday. I’d wear a headband if I were you.”
“I’ve c-committed a mortal sin, G-Gojo!” Ijichi struggles to say, uncertain of the crime he’s being accused of, yet hopeful for Satoru’s forgiveness.
“You are such a menace!” You throw a playful punch to his chest once he sits you on his lap, away from the eyes of people gathering around the karaoke machine, and close to Nanami, who departs with a disgusted scoff.
“You love me for it.” Satoru’s lips press softly against yours, incapable of hiding his smile when you pull his face in for another kiss, the tight squish of his arms making sure you’re going nowhere.
“I do.” You affirm, rubbing your nose on his. “I love you.”
“How much?” His eyes crinkle fondly.
“Hmm, like, a lot?” You giggle, your fingers absently brushing through the trimmed hair on the back of his skull. “Enough to spend half a lifetime by your side and still find you the most incredible person in all of creation.”
“Wanna spend the other half too?” His breath on your cheek colors your skin red, your eyes momentarily lost between shades of blue.
“Come back with a ring, Shit-toru.”
“That’s not the way you talk to your future husband!”
“He’s here? With us? Right now?” You gasp, frantically looking around, until Satoru forces you to face him with a thumb on your chin, his other hand squeezing an innocent touch around your thigh.
“Satoru!”
“Scared your future husband will see us?” He throws his head back, laughing at your panicked state. “Don’t worry. I’ll fight him for you. And win. After all, I am the strongest.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, he did it! He said the line with only—”you glance at your phone—“six hours left before the day ends, what an amazing record!”
A shrill screech fired from the other side of the room interrupts your banter, the microphone turning into a lethal weapon in Panda’s massive palms. The students appear to have divided themselves into couples, fighting over who gets to go first until Inumaki takes the initiative with a rap song—or, more accurately, sings over a rap song, as the only words in his roster revolve around onigiri ingredients that are mentioned nowhere in the lyrics.
“Stop hogging the mic!” Maki attempts to steal it, backing away as the boy teases to unzip his collar. She knows better than to push her limits while unarmed.
Panda still gets in the middle. For precaution, you assume.
“Reminds you of something?” Satoru comments on your riveted attention. “They’re just like us. How we once were. Young and full of dreams.”
“Nah. You were always a horny bastard.” You slap the inappropriately placed hand away before you get up and sit where Nanami was previously stationed. Poking your tongue at his devastated expression.
Conversation between the two of you is kept to a minimum after a different tune begins blasting from the speakers—Yuji and Megumi take over the stage with Takada-Chan’s most recent success, one of them performing the vocals to perfection while the other merely mumbles yeah’s whenever the song calls for it. Next are Nobara and Maki, the two girls belting out to an anthem of empowerment that has the boys in the room gulping uncomfortably among themselves.
The mood shifts completely when Yaga pours his soul into an 80’s power ballad, his raspy voice transforming into the smoothest velvet, complemented by Panda’s harmonies. Even Satoru praises his old teacher, cheering him on from the bleachers with a makeshift napkin-banner.
You don’t realize your boyfriend’s gone until you see him with the microphone in hand, bending the cable as he makes quick gestures for the floor to empty, performing what is possibly the cheesiest, most romantic love song ever written, and ushering you to join him once he drops to his knees—quite literally at your feet.
You ruffle his hair and shove his goofy expression away. No matter how charming his singing voice may be, he’ll never get you to sing in public. Similar to how he’ll never catch you admitting how loudly your heart beats in your chest, despite the fact that it’s written all over your face.
God, you hate this man. So much that part of you wishes you’d spent his birthday like you did every other year—tangled in his sheets and kissing till you cannot breathe.
As soon as the karaoke session ends, Megumi and Yuji exit the room to bring in the cake, with Satoru jumping them for a thorough inspection. The dessert is inspired by one of his favorite confections. Handmade mochi bites are spread evenly between three layers of fluffy strawberry cake, the entire enterprise covered in fine red bean paste and topped with vanilla buttercream, strawberry cutouts, and, of course, more mochi in a light pink shade to recreate the world’s largest daifuku.
You lost count of how many failed attempts it took to create your own recipe from scratch, but the look on Satoru’s face is better than any payment you could possibly ask. He struggles to find a word that describes his feelings—phenomenal being the one he ends up using. Definitely better than chocolate cake. Perhaps even on par with the legendary Laputa.
Everyone gathers anew for the birthday boy to blow out his candles, awkwardness sweeping through the crowd as, one by one, you come to the conclusion that there is no available lighter.
you search through your pockets for a lighter, finding none. Shoko’s unhealthy (and supposedly cut) habit comes in clutch, with the brunette handing Yuji the keys to her office. The boy sprints outside at full speed, idle chatter put on pause as the TV starts playing on its own, the song selection window traded for a relic of the past.
“Is this even working?” A young Shoko taps the camera, tilting her body at a curious angle. Short skirt rolling up.
“Probably not. That shit’s ancient, but feel free to test it! Maybe try showing it something funnier, like your pant—”
Horny bastard. Right on the money.
“Cut it off, Satoru.” A voice makes both you and present-day Satoru shudder, its owner taking the camera from their friend’s hand to shoot footage around the gym. “Yaga Sensei told us to use this to document the Goodwill Event, not film amateur gravure.” The frame shakes once more. “Looks good to me.”
“Pft, what’s the point?” Satoru flicks a pebble at the camera. “So he can make a quick buck out of me destroying those brats? The outcome’s already decided. Now turn this thing off. I wanna lay under the sun without some junk in my face.”
The camera zooms in on him splaying his limbs on the grass, possibly near the track field, based on the slight hint of red inside the green.
“The only junk in your face is your face itself.” Shoko deadpans, making him chase after her while Suguru continues filming them until they turn into a pair of flickering dots.
“These two.”
The world is turned upside down as a close-up of his bang takes over the screen. Realizing that himself, he pulls the camera further away, cat-like irises shining like pure amber under the sunny sky. You’ve missed their warmth.
“Preparation for the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event, Day 1.” He declares, and the screen goes black in an instant, white noise reigning over the space.
Your hand seeks Satoru’s on its own, the faint sound of his name dangling from your parted lips, both your breaths catching in your throats. He’s left gawking at the screen, reciprocating your touch with shaky fingers that try to anchor him to you. It’s safe to say this was not part of your plan.
“Weird. Thought it’d be one of those old workout tapes.” Nobara reveals herself as the culprit behind the incident, ejecting the tape back into its box and later standing with her hands pinned to her waist. “Gojo Sensei, I recognize you and Ieri, but who was that third person in the video? Bangs Guy.”
Out of everyone in the room, she’s the only one to have absolutely no information on Suguru. Aside from the adults, the second-years were all present during last year’s attack, and Megumi knows whatever has slipped from Satoru during his stay at the Gojo clan’s compound.
Nobody rushes to respond; all of you tuned in on Satoru even though only Shoko, Yaga, and you are directly gazing at him, his face contorted with a pained grimace he tries hard to disguise.
“Geto Suguru was—”
“My best friend.” Satoru grins at Principal Yaga’s attempt to help him, grasping your hand more confidently as he confronts the girl. “Geto Suguru is my best friend.”
“Huh. Guess there’s hope for everyone.” No one’s left with any courage to laugh at Nobara’s poor attempt at a joke. “Where is he now—”
“Senseiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” A voice gains volume as the door bursts open, Yuji pouring into the classroom with the lighter held over his head like it’s the Olympic flame. “I g-got th-the—” He tries to breathe, ending up only saying, “Fire. Wish. What. Miss?”
“Yuji!” Satoru makes you follow him to the door. “You’re right on time! And no, you didn’t miss anything. Just stories of the past.”
“Stories?” Yuji wipes the sweat off his forehead. Still very much exasperated. “But I…like stories.”
“I know you do.” Satoru’s eyes settle on yours, the clamor in his eyes hushing for the first time in years. “But birthday wishes are meant for a future that’s yet to be written.”
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“Thank you!”
Appreciation falls from your lips as a long-drawn yawn, every second you spend huddled under the kotatsu’s warmth begging to lull you to sleep. Today was a long day. So long, it feels as if it spanned an entire lifetime.
Satoru plops down beside you, the neckline of his sweatshirt diving low over his collarbones as he chugs his share of hot cocoa. Yours remains untouched while you switch between the same two movie options, incapable of picking one over the other.
“What do you have for me?” He asks, running his fingers over the ceramic rim. A melodic string instrument-like sound is induced.
“Okay so. Got the cult classic Sixteen Candles, which we’ve probably watched more times than Molly Ringwald had to practice her lines for the role, and I also have La Boum, in case you’re feeling more adventurous, and I don’t know. Frenchy, maybe.”
“Hmm, I mean. When you phrase it like that…”He acts as if he’s seriously contemplating his choice, only to snatch the remote from your hand and choose La Boum. He smiles slyly, curling near your chest. “It’s what you obviously wanted to watch. And I always choose, so.”
“Forfeiting your birthday boy rights?” You hum, tenderly combing through his freshly washed white strands. He smells just like his cake, you think. “Be careful. There are still nine minutes left before your birthday’s over, and you’re robbed of your rights for an entire year. Think you can make it?”
“Will you be with me during those horrid days?” His voice turns muffled.
“Always. Now, before the movie starts and you ruin the fun with your excessive blabbing, how about you reach under the kotatsu for your gift?” You suggest, chuckling as his head lifts up, cerulean eyes shining with unfeigned surprise.
“Angel! You shouldn’t have!” Satoru beams whole as he drags the heavy box out, shaking it in an attempt to feel out its contents.
“You know that doesn’t work with me. C’mon. I’ll pause for you.”
He wastes no time to untie the light silver bow that ties the box together, taking, however, his sweet time to review each and every object placed within. Carefully, he lays everything out on the table, small gasps evading him at a constant and maturing into a full-on shriek as he spots that one rare Digimon trading card you bust your gut trying to purchase via private online auctions.
“I—um. I know it doesn’t sound too good ‘cause I’m your girlfriend and I’m supposed to know everything about you and what you want, but I really had no idea what to get for your birthday. So I decided to get you a bit of everything from your favorite things. You can blame me for weaponizing nostalgia later.”
You clear your throat with a quick sip of cocoa. Licking your lips, “Anyway. It’s really no biggie as you can see. I just bought off some trading cards, ported a few of your old favorite games to a current generation console—yes, Street Fighter included—and made you this silly beaded charm with our initials for your phone, since they are back in fashion.
“I know it’s not much, and you could buy those things at any given time, but—time is something you cannot buy, right? Your childhood, your youth. The so-called best years of your life. I wanted you to have that back, even if just for a day.”
It’s been minutes, and Satoru remains quizzically silent, to the point where the array of kisses aimed at your neck comes as a true ambush. You’re knocked to the floor, giggling and flailing while he shows you his affection in every way possible, kissing you, praising you, hugging you—loving you.
“H-Happy Birthday, Toru.” You repel his face enough to say. “Y-you know, a thank you would be nice to hear!”
“As if you don’t know what I’m about to say.” Satoru grins, holding your palms to his mouth. Kissing them one by one, repeatedly, and slowly. Multiple times each. “You are my childhood. And my youth. And the best years of my life—they are all you. Everything we’ve been through, and everything we’ll live together.”
“How’s that for a thank you?” He chuckles, quickly breaking the tension with a final kiss on your nose. Perhaps the only part of you that’s not tinged red. “That being said…”
“You want to go for a quickie?” You sniffle against your will.
“See? You do know everything about me.” He reaches for the deck of cards with the swirly brown backside. “It’s time to duel!”
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A/N: sorry for hastily written ending. had no time, oopsie!
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cherryflavoured7777 · 5 months
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okay i’m thinking a fic where you’re spending your first christmas with Hazel 🥹 and making a gingerbread house while drinking hot cocoa and watching movies… like TONS of fluff im in love with her.
PS i love u and ur writing so much 🩷
THANK U SM ANGEL <3 ily.
(THIS IS PURE FLUFF. BORDERLINE TOO SWEET BUT I AM A very cheesy hoe IM SORRY, you have been warned)
You and Hazel spend your first Christmas Eve together. <3.
word count: 2k
⭐️🎄⭐️🎄⭐️🎄⭐️
December 24th, Christmas Eve, found you spending the entire day at your girlfriend Hazel's house. The two of you totally immersing yourselves in a festive atmosphere, indulging in baking sessions, adding last minute decorations to the space, and listening to a blend of both classic Christmas tunes and your personal favourite songs.
You stood at the kitchen island, putting the finishing touches on a round of baking.
"Smells amazing, baby," Hazel sighed as she wrapped her arms around you from behind, observing you intently as you worked on mixing your second batch of cookies.
"Yeah?" you hummed.
"Mhmm, can't wait to try them." You felt the comforting weight of her chin resting on your shoulder, a warmth spreading through your body.
In the oven, your initial batch of Christmas cookies baked, ready to accompany the gingerbread house you were about to create.
Hazel snakes her arm in-front of you, dipping her finger into the cookie batter you're mixing.
"Hey! no tasting the batter yet." you protest.
"It's not for me, I already snuck a taste when you weren't looking. Open your mouth. You gotta try it."
Hazel’s hands met your waist again, and she gently spun you around.
She drew you a bit closer, fingers gently encircling your waist as she slid her batter-covered finger into your mouth, inviting you to taste. Her eyes grew slightly darker as she watched you slowly suck the batter off her finger, pupils fixated on your mouth. With raised eyebrows, she watched you expectantly.
"See?" She removes her finger from your mouth and licks the excess batter off her finger. "My girl can bake."
It all feels incredibly domestic, and merely being in her presence evokes a flutter in your stomach, a sensation that persists despite the fact that you see her almost every day. Love with Hazel unfolds in unexpectedly simple moments, and you can't help but feel fortunate, a sentiment she shares. The idea of experiencing such a pure connection once seemed unlikely to her, until she met you.
Your eyes stay fixated on hers before for a moment before she speaks.
"I love having you here,” she blurted out.
“I love being here,” you replied.
"No," she seemed a bit frustrated, as if you didn't fully grasp how deeply she meant it.
"Seeing you here gets me excited. Excited about what the future holds for us, you know? I know it sounds insane, or maybe like I’m thinking too far down the line, but I can't wait to come home to you existing in our place one day. Our kitchen, with the stuff we picked out together." Though confident and intentional, you could tell Hazel’s words were laced with vulnerability and a tad of insecurity.
Hazel’s words didn’t freak you out, though, they actually did the opposite. You never imagined you could feel so deeply enamored with another person. Truthfully, you would give her whatever she wanted.
"I know, Haze. Me too. I think about it so much, more than you know," you reassure her.
Hands still on your waist, she lifts you onto the countertop, adjusting slightly to stand between your legs.
Your hand instinctively reaches up to hold her face. You were both so young, and perhaps naive, but you never let that stop you from having these thoughts. You felt you owed yourself a completely lovesick, teenage romance, not tainted by fears of the future, not yet at least.
Your hands brush a strand of brown hair from her face, and you lean down to kiss her.
Whenever you kissed Hazel, you understood why people wanted to kiss, why they chased this feeling.
Growing up, you never quite understood it as much. But here in this moment, and every other one like it, you finally did. The warmth of her lips against yours, the subtle taste of cookie batter lingering between you—it's a simple joy that seems to encapsulate everything sweet and pure in your shared world.
You pull away, leaving her chasing you for more “Alright we gotta get these out of the oven, get out of my way,” you playfully command.
Walking over to put on your oven mitts, you take the tray out, carefully placing it on the stove. The sugary sweet aroma of the cookies envelops the kitchen with a rich warmth.
“I think we make a pretty good team,” Hazel says, smiling at you and admiring your baking.
“What are you talking about? I did all the work,” you tease, giggling as you await her response, turning back around to face her.
“Hey! That’s not true, I-” You cut off her protest with another kiss, choosing to indulge her instead of teasing her further. She smiles into the kiss, grabbing your waist before before her fingers start to trail along your spine, igniting a electricity against your skin. Letting the heated exchange linger, the playful banter transforms into a more intense moment as she slowly walks you backward and pushes you against the counter again.
The kitchen's warmth now feels more noticeable as ever as Hazel's lips leave yours and find their way to the sensitive curve of your neck. Soft, breathy sighs escape your lips, and you feel the air thicken around you. Hazel's hands move with purpose, exploring the contours of your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
The magnetic pull between you intensifies, making it momentarily hard to focus on anything but the rising wanting in your chest. Yet, amidst the heat of the moment, Hazel manages to steer the energy back to your task, her lips lingering near your ear.
“Okay, ready to tackle this beast?” she asks, motioning to the unopened gingerbread house. The mischievous glint in her eyes tells you that she knew exactly what she was doing.
“Absolutley.” you smile, trying to seem unphased and ignore the growing heat between your thighs.
The next half-hour is spent constructing the gingerbread house with Hazel around her kitchen table. She eventually pulls you onto her lap on her chair, her arms encircling you as she reaches behind with the frosting, guiding your hands to steady them as you outline the bodies of the gingerbread men. Laughter reverberates through the room as you and Hazel engage in a frosting fight, adorning the gingerbread with colorful candies and sprinkles, not really paying too much attention to where you're putting them.
“This looks like shit,” you say, staring at your handiwork. Hastily, you reach to save the drooping roof thats caving in.
You can feel Hazel’s breath against your ear behind you as she lets out a laugh, her arms wrapping around you to help salvage the falling structure. The shared moment becomes a sweet memory, even if the gingerbread house didn't turn out as planned.
"I think it's perfect," Hazel declares, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.
You glance around the room, the glow of Christmas lights casting a warm ambiance. The sound of holiday music playing softly in the background adds to the sweetness of the moment.
“Come on, I’m getting sleepy, let's go watch a movie,” she says, lifting you off her lap, interlacing your hand with hers as she pulls you up the stairs to her room.
You make your way up to Hazel's room, quickly discarding your T-shirt in exchange for one of her oversized sweatshirts, carrying her comforting scent.
Entering the bathroom, you find Hazel already brushing her teeth. You grab your toothbrush from the cup beside her sink, one that you kept there all the time because she insisted.
Staring at each other in the mirror, you both giggle as you brush your teeth in tandem, finding joy in the simplicity of shared routines. When Hazel finishes, she comes up behind you, grabbing a hair tie to keep your hair away from your face as you wash it. She mindlessly held your hips as you bent over to splash water on your face.
You and Hazel were both extremely clingy, but you couldn’t help it, always wanting to be close.
After both of you finish your skincare, you make your way over to her bed, clicking on the remote to her TV as you get comfortable under the covers.
“Okay, you have two choices, Home Alone or The Holiday?” you say as she climbs into bed beside you. She smells like soap and cookie batter.
“Why only those two?” She shifts under the covers, positioning herself beside you.
“Because those are my favourites,” you reply.
“I’ll watch whatever you want, babe,” Hazel says, a yawn escaping her mouth as she wraps her arm around you.
“If you fall asleep, I’m gonna be sad,” you warn. “I want to stay up with you until at least midnight. It's our first Christmas together, and I have to go home in the morning.” You pout.
Hazel’s eyes reflect a certain sadness in them, like she didn’t know how much you wanted her to stay awake. All of a sudden, it's as if her tiredness is gone as she sits up and walks across the room. She opens her closet and pulls something out, a large, flat, wrapped gift.
"Okay, I have something for you," Hazel grinned, excitement dancing in her eyes.
“But, my gifts for you are at home, I thought we were waiting until tomorrow.” You say, a pang of guilt hitting you.
“Shh- it’s fine. I want you to open it now, it’s just a small thing, I have more for tomorrow.” she says.
Her hands trembling slightly with anticipation, Hazel handed over the gift, a hint of nervousness in her smile. Your eyes light up as you accept the package, curiosity mingling with joy.
"Oh wow, Hazel, it's so beautifully wrapped," you say, carefully unwrapping the present.
As the paper fell away, revealing a sleek and elegant box, Hazel couldn't help but hold her breath. You opened the box to find a delicate frame containing a customized star map. The night sky on the night you first met, immortalized in a celestial display.
"Oh, Hazel," you gasped, your eyes welling up with emotion. You recongized the date immediately "Is this…?"
Hazel nodded, her heart swelling with affection. "It's the night we first met. The stars above us that night," she explained, her voice tender.
You and Hazel constantly argue about your first official time meeting. The truth is, she’d watched you from afar for months, never thinking she’d actually have a chance with you. You didn’t officially talk until the first night of senior year, at the annual senior campout. You’d spent basically that entire night with Hazel, following her in awe as she pointed out different constellations to you, her infatuation with astronomy becoming quickly apparent.
You traced your fingers over the constellations, a smile playing on your lips. "This is incredible. I can't believe you did this."
Hazel leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. "I wanted us to have a piece of that moment forever. Something to remind us of where it all began."
The room seemed to shimmer with warmth as you pulled Hazel into a tight embrace, the framed star map cradled between you two.
“Thank you, Haze. I love it.” You whisper into her hair.
“Your welcome, baby. I’m glad you like it” she whispers back.
You spend the next two hours tangled up together watching The Holiday. Completely content in eachothers presence. As the credits roll, Hazel’s hands find yours, lightly toying with your fingers. “Hey, pass me your phone.” She whispers.
You reach for it beside you and hand it to her. She turns it on, the clock showing 12:13am, December 25th. She turns to look at you, beaming.
“We made it,” she says smiling, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“Merry Christmas, baby.” She buried her head in the crook of your neck, peppering warm kisses all over.
“Merry Christmas, my love.” You whisper, hands finding her hair.
She coaxes you onto your side, pulling you into her, gently stroking your hair. The movie soundtrack faded into the background, replaced by the quiet cadence of your shared breaths. Hazel's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, and as the clock ticked away the minutes, you succumbed to the gentle pull of sleep.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
NAHHH CAUSE I NEED A GF THIS CHRISTMAS NOW. WILL I EVER FIND LOVE??
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talaok · 7 months
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Hey, I have this huge exam next week, it’s the biggest exam of my life so far and I’m stressed af. I consider myself a chill person but I’m feeling beyond anxious all the time and I have never felt this stressed in my life. It’s so hard to take care of myself rn like I don’t feel like eating but I have to because I’m nauseous and then I can’t find anything I’d like to eat and it makes me more anxious IT’S A VICIOUS CYCLE I SWEAR AND APPARENTLY I HAVE TO EAT EVERY FOUR HOURS EVERY DAY BC I’M A HUMAN??
anyway, sorry for oversharing. I was gonna ask if you could write sth with pedro taking care of stressed reader, making sure she eats and is hydrated, filing up her coffee, cuddling with her when she has crying sessions wiping her tears and telling her everything’s gonna be okay and he’s gonna be there for her with every step no matter what. I literally crave comfort right now, and I’d be so grateful if you could write something 🥹
I love how caring and kind you are with asks, thank you so so so much for being here. Love you 💕💕💕💕
pairing: Pedro pascal x reader
a/n: Im so so sorry love, im one hundred percent sure youll do great, but in the meantime, i hope this will make you feel a little bit better, love you💗💗 (this ask did skip the line bc if i posted it two weeks from now it wouldn't have made any sense)
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He didn't know how or when, but all of a sudden, all you did was study.
And at first, he didn't really think anything of it, you'd told him about the exam and about how important it was, so he understood, but what he didn't expect, was just how much you'd be studying.
You raised your head only to answer him, and even when you did, it was monosyllabic.
"Have you eaten anything?"
"no"
"did you drink any water today?"
"not really"
And no matter how many times he'd tell you how bad for you that was, the next time he asked, the answers were always the same. And that's exactly why by the second day, he had stopped asking and instead, started doing.
He had conceived a whole plan of attack.
For the days when he, unfortunately, had to go to work, he left two full water bottles and a glass on your desk, and an already cooked lunch in the fridge, so that all you needed to do was heat it up in the microwave.
But on the days when he didn't have to go to work, he took it upon himself to become your personal assistant, and your worst nightmare altogether.
No matter how much you complained, he forced you to take a break at least every two hours, he made sure you were drinking the water he poured into your glass, he made you coffee every time you asked, (always only after having reminded you that you didn't need more coffee but more sleep) and finally, he cooked or ordered all of your favorite foods in the hopes that it would make you feel more like eating (which never seemed to work).
Today, thankfully, he got to stay home, so for the thousand time, he walked into the studio to check in on you.
"hey there" he smiled, watching you half-heartedly wave at him before returning your full attention to your book "I brought you a snack," he said, placing the apple slices on your desk and making a soft laugh flee your mouth.
He had turned into a soccer mom, but god it felt good to hear you laugh again.
He got behind you to start gently massaging what he was sure must have been sore shoulders.
"how's it going?"
"bad" you grumbled, relaxing the tiniest bit at his touch
"I'm sorry" he murmured, leaning down to kiss the crown of your head "you wanna take a break?"
"It's not been two hours yet"
"I know, but I think it would be good for you" he explained "We could take a walk maybe"
You sighed, closing your eyes "I can't"
"sweetheart" he cooed, crouching down to be at your level and turning your chair towards him "you're gonna burn yourself out if you continue like this"
"I know but..." you glanced back at your notes "I can't fail this exam"
"and you're not gonna" he immediately reassured you
He watched something happen behind your eyes, 
"not if I keep taking breaks"
"baby-" he murmured, taking your hand in his and watching as your mouth curved downwards for the quickest moment 
"I just-I'm so anxious," you said, your voice breaking "I-I can't fail- I just can't"
"hey hey hey" he cooed, his eyes looking for yours "Sweetheart, it's ok"
And that was the moment you couldn't hold it anymore, all the stress and fear you'd been bottling up for days started spilling from your eyes.
"n-no it's not, I-I... I don't even know, I just..." you sobbed, and when you looked at him, he swore he heard his heart break " I feel like shit"
"sugar..." he murmured, wasting no time wrapping his arms around you "I'm so sorry baby," he spoke gently to your ear as his hands stroked your hair and back 
You hid your face in his chest as you cried all you had to cry.
"it's all gonna be alright sweetheart, I promise"
But at that, for some reason, you only started to cry harder.
"ok this is it, hold onto me"
And you had just the time to frown, before he had picked you up and walked out of the room and into the living room.
"w-what are you doing?"
"forcing you to take a break"
"I could have walked" A small smile appeared on your lips, and with it, a small wave of relief washed over Pedro's body.
"You've done enough today" he explained, sitting down on the couch with you, and in less than a moment, your whole body had clung to his.
Your left leg was draped over his, and your head was on his chest, as he held you close with both his arms.
"y/n, you're not gonna fail" he started gently "You're the smartest person I've ever met"
"That's not true" you muttered, your words muffled by his body
"yes it is" he insisted "And baby I promise you, that everything is gonna be alright" he swore, slowly running a hand through your hair "and that no matter what, I'm gonna be here for you, ok?"
It took a moment for you to respond, but after a few beats of silence, a muffled "ok" made its way to Pedro's ears.
"yeah?" he asked, again, encouraging you to meet his gaze.
"yeah" you sniffled, as you finally looked up
"Feeling better?"
"yes" you nodded "Thank you"
He tightened his hug, as he bent down, to ghost your mouth "I love you baby" he kissed you "Whatever you need, I'm always gonna be here for you"
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house-strong · 2 years
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— THE TORMENT of a life time ʾ ⋆
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summary ; requested by anon.
“Could we please have a friends to lovers Jace Velaryon x reader suggestive fluff, please?”
pairing ; friends-to-lovers!jacaerys velaryon x stark!reader
notes ; this gif? ,, DAYUM also we’ll pretend the dance of dragons doesn’t happen and the starks still love jace 💁 also i for the life of me can’t write suggestive since im touch deprived so im sorry in advance,, also unrevised😔
it’s no secret that the starks of the north were fond of the princess rhaenyra and her children, especially jacaerys velaryon. though wary of outsiders, they’ve often come to court on the behest of the crowned princess and future king to the iron throne.
you, lady (y/n) stark, was one of many things that jacaerys found enlightening about the northern moors. somehow, although dark and dreary, you found some way to remain a beacon of light. every where you went, you wore a smile and the pleasant sound of your laughter was never too far behind. he supposed that you were the reason he was so quick to visit winterfell.
at the invitation of cregan stark, warden of the north and your lord father, he had set flight for winterfell on the back of vermax. he had packed light, intending on only staying for a few days.
that is, until he was persuaded by you to stay for a fortnight.
“i don’t understand why you have to leave so quickly, you’ve only just arrived,” you complain whilst lounging on his guest bed. you flip absentmindedly through the book he brought – a present for the celebration of your nameday. jacaerys turns to look at you, a smile parting his pink lips.
“i have princely duties, (y/n),” he says, though he knew you weren’t simple and you already knew that he was a prince with otherworldly duties, he had said this phrase with light tease. he continues to pack, hands delicately folding his belongings the way his mother had taught him. “but, i might be persuaded to stay.”
jacaerys abandons his belongings and moves toward the bed, gently pushing you by the shoulder to make you move and make room for him. he sits, back leaning against the headboard.
“oh really?” you respond, your eyebrow raising at his comment. “what does my prince suggest?”
the mere title uttered by your breath is something that causes his heart to skip a beat. he decides he likes the way his title rolls off your tongue. heat begins to sleep up his neck and he rubs at it anxiously.
he looks away and gives a bashful chuckle, “well, i hadn’t thought this far.”
you roll over on the furs of the bed, looking up at him through your lashes. your hands joined together in mock prayer in front of the prince.
“anything my prince desires.” you say. though he was sure it was a teasing remark, he can’t help but feel the warmth that continues to blossom within him. he shifts in his seat and he’s staring at you now, eyes drifting to your lips. he clears his throat when he realizes what he’s doing, looking away to survey the room. you don’t fail to notice this action, another smile creeping upon your lips. you both start to realize what you’re doing.
“clean my dragon saddle for me,” he suggests after a moment of thought. you make a face, immediately declining the idea. he laughs after your voice your concern, “fine. how about going.. dragonriding with me?”
you laugh again, but notice that’s he’s serious this time, “jace, i cannot go on the back of vermax with you, my father would kill you, kill me, then skin your dragon for pelt.” now it’s jacaerys’ turn to laugh. he knows it’s empty threats and merely a diversion from your real fear.
“dragonriding isn’t so scary, i promise,” jacaerys says, though it falls on to deaf ears. he takes a moment to look at you earnestly, a twinkle in his eyes, “i’ll let you hold on tight.”
you assume he meant that you can hold on to him tight. the idea is pleasant, though you still decline the offer, “i’m a stark whose duty is to stay on the ground and i intend to keep it that way.”
“just because you were born to be on land doesn’t mean you can’t free yourself and fly every now and then,” he counters. you look down, pulling the abandoned book back into your grasp and flipping the pages to distract yourself from his truth. jacaerys feels his hand reach out, gently tucking a strand of hair that splays over the book behind your ear. his fingers trail to your chin, where he softly points it back up. “come fly with me, (y/n),” he whispers, “and i’ll stay however long you want me to.”
“jace,” you warn through a whisper. for ten years you and the princeling of dragonstone had remained close friends, forever ignoring the fleeting moments that were shared due to being so young. you both thought that just meant you liked each other as friends, but this, this was a whole new territory for the both of you.
the air goes still, yet full of life as electricity dances between you two. both of you eye each others lips cautiously, lids slowly becoming lidded with mutual desire. he swallows thickly, unsure now what to do. perhaps he should’ve taken up his uncle’s advice and followed him blindly to the street of silk. then again, he was unashamed that this was his first interaction with a woman, and he was glad that it was you.
you, on the other hand, were unsure of how you wanted to proceed. you knew jace like the back of your hand and you were sure this one night of.. indulgence wouldn’t harm your friendship. some part of you was hesitant to see jace in this sort of light. a woman grown with the desire to be wanted, jace was starting to tick the right boxes.
“jace,” you say once more, his name falling from your lips almost as a plea, “kiss me.”
his lips capture yours with uncertainty and lack of rhythm, though, he finds it quickly and almost moans in your mouth when you return it. your teeth accidentally knock together, but it goes unnoticed as you two continue to share a passionate kiss. you slowly reach for the lapels of his nobleman’s robes, tugging at it softly. he grunts in declination, his other hand gently swatting away your hand.
“not this way,” he says once he pulls apart from the kiss. his hair, now disheveled from the constant run of your hand through it, added to the purity of his face that he now wears. his lip, pink and plump, were tucked into a bite between his teeth. “i think i liked that.”
you scoff playfully before echoing his words, “you think?”
now it’s his turn to roll his eyes, “i know i liked that.” with a lip bite of your own, you start to play with the lapels of his coat, your fingers trailing down.
“i know a couple more things i’m sure you’ll like,” you purr suggestively and jacaerys, once again, starts to feel the blush creep upon his neck. this time, it’s more obvious and even goes as far to highlight the tips of his ear red.
“don’t think this little act of yours is freeing you from a dragonride with me.”
“i was thinking of a dragonride actually, just not on vermax.”
jacaerys fells something catch in his throat and he starts to cough when your words reach his ears.
seven hells, you were going to be the death of him.
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