#again that has been my experience from observation

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Too Close to Saying Goodbye

Summary: Tav gets injured fighting the Absolute, and its too close of a call for everyone but especially Karlach

Warnings: typical in game violence, somewhat graphic depictions of blood/injury, near death experience, angst(happy end!)

Authors note: my first time writing for BG3 and Karlach, so go easy on me please if its not the greatest

Word count: 1956

Karlach Masterlist BG3 Masterlist

What you currently stand in was once, no doubt, a beautiful open field near the forest. Now however, it has become a shell of its former self. The once green grass is now a dull brown, and it's marred by trails of upturned dirt that lead off into the distance towards a camp of Absolute forces that have clearly been stationed here a while.

   In the distance you notice a few pillars of smoke rising into the sky, showing you exactly where the enemy is camped down at. With the hours growing late, you assume the fires mean that they've decided to settle in for the evening. You wager this means only a few will be out and about on their regular patrols, which would be easy enough to deal with if needed, so it should be the most opportune time to take your companions closer in order to observe and see just what you're dealing with.

   This however, proves to be the wrong decision. For some reason, a small squad had been out on a patrol. And unfortunately for you, they had spotted you snooping nearly at once. There isn’t time for your party to hide or retreat, making a fight the only option. It truly isn't ideal with how they outnumber you, but you trust in the strength and strategy of your companions.

   As the battle commences everything seems to be going smoothly. You’ve watched all your friends land a multitude of blows against the enemy, even managing to down a handful of the cultists despite being outnumbered. But, as all things with your little group, nothing can ever be as easy as it initially seems.

   You had just managed to take down a rather large Orc, and were wrenching your blade free from his flesh when a Drow decided to take advantage of the situation and charged at you. You'd managed to spot him in your peripheral area in time to block the first blow with your bracers, but without a weapon you were not so lucky when the second blow came. And with a sickening squelch, the blade plunges into your shoulder.

   Your yell echoes across the area, and Karlachs eyes frantically begin searching for you. Relief floods her when she finds you, but that relief is short lived when she notices the precarious situation you're in. 

   “NO!” she shouts, quickly felling the cultist in front of her before dashing in your direction. The drow pulls his blade free, causing blood to start pouring from the wound in a manner that has panic flaring within her, especially when she watches your knees give out as you crumble to the ground.

   Worried that any time wasted fighting could prove fatal to you she summons all her strength and when she strikes, she easily cleaves the cultist responsible for your pain in two. His body falls to the ground not far from where you lay, and her bloodied ax clatters down next seconds before her arms are pulling you into her lap, “No, no, no. Tav!?”

   You hiss in pain as something presses against your wound, but recognizing the warmth that now encompasses you, you call out, “Karlach”

   “I’m here” she replies, pulling you even closer as tears cloud her vision, “I’ve got you”

   You smile, but it lacks your usual warmth and doesn't quite meet your eyes. This makes her stomach drop even further and her eyes frantically start searching the battle again, this time for signs of the raven haired Cleric, or even one of the druids. But to her frustration she can currently spot none of them.

   “I'm sorry” you mumble, effectively getting her gaze back on you, “I really did wanna explore the city with you….”

   She shakes her head, “Don't talk like that. We'll make it to Baldur's Gate. Together.”

   “Karlach…” 

    “I'm the one that's got limited time, remember, not you. So, you're gonna be just fine” She responds, clearly in denial of just how bad the situation is, “Just need some healing and rest. That's all”

   The smell of your blood being spilled had brought another of your companions to your side, and though he's used to the sight of the coppery smelling liquid, when he sees the sheer amount of yours that's soaking into the grass, even he became queasy 

   “Karlach, is Tav…are they…?”

   “Astarion, they need healing! Please get help!” she responds in such a panicked tone that he knows the situation is as serious as it seems, if not worse

   He sprints off in a blur to where he had last seen the Cleric, he'd be damned if he was going to fail you now. No, not after all you've done for him, or for the others. No, you were truly too good of a traveling companion and friend to die so soon, and like this. He’d get you help. You would be fine.

   As his footsteps fade into the sounds of the battle that still surrounds you, you become all too aware of just how bad the situation is. The dizziness and black edges to your vision tell you that you're losing too much blood far too quickly, and even if Astarion does find Shadowheart, with all the chaos going on there's no guarantee that she’ll even be in a position to come to aid you. 

   So despite the pain you're currently in, you're determined to offer some comfort to your beloved tiefling who cradles you in her embrace. You somehow manage to lift a hand to her cheek, and your thumb wipes at her tears, “You are truly incredible Karlach. How lucky I am….to have gotten to spend the time that I have with you….”

   “Please, just stay with me love. Help will be her, it will”

  You exhale shakily, “I’m not sure I can…

   The way your voice is so small, so unlike you, has her bottom lip trembling and her grip on you becomes impossibly tighter, “Please, you can’t go yet…”

   When Astarion spots Shadowheart a twinge of hope twists in his chest, and he wastes no time in running up to her and grabbing ahold of her forearm, “You're needed!”

   “I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment, in case that's gone without notice!” she reptiles, pulling her arm free to cast a firebolt at an advancing goblin

   “I don’t care how bloody busy you are! Tavs dying, damn it!!” he snaps, “Go tend to them and leave these bastards to me!”

   Her eyes widen for a brief second before determination takes over her features. She nods to the pale elf in understanding before darting off in the direction he had come from. Astarion swallows the lump of anxiety in his throat before turning to face the few goblins that she had been dealing with.

   By the time Shadowheart reaches you she's almost afraid that she's too late, but the slight raise of your chest calms her fears, if only temporarily. A blue-green glow encompasses her hands as she kneels next to you, opposite Karlach.

   “Tell me you can fix them Fringe, I can’t fucking lose them”

   The Cleric takes a deep breath as she looks down at your wound. Normally something this bad wouldn’t be a problem, it would exhaust her but she could manage. But after using up as much energy fighting the cultists as she has…she's worried she may not be able to fully mend you.

   “I…I can only try my best Karlach”

    Though she nods in an attempt to remain stoic, a small sob does escape her, and it successfully breaks the half elfs heart. Shadowheart focusses her all on your shoulder then, letting the mending magic flow from her hands and onto your shoulder. The wound begins to close up and your breathing remains steady, which are both good signs. All that's left to worry about is the bloodloss. 

   The feeling of your flesh stitching itself back together is definitely strange, but what's even stranger is how it doesn’t seem to be helping your faint feeling. Your lover must be able to sense your confusion, or at least the fact that something is still off.

   “What is it? What's wrong?”

   Your brows furrow and you choke on your words before going limp in her hold. Panic completely overtakes her then, “Tav?!”

   The sound of feet padding against the dirt nearby is the first thing that your senses register, the next thing is the small stuffed bear tucked under the arm that had been uninjured in battle. You smile softly before opening up your eyes, it takes a moment to adjust to the dimly lit surroundings but once your eyes adjust you can see the silhouettes of everyone sitting around the campfire in the distance. Well, everyone except Scratch and the Owlbear cub who are laying at your feet, standing guard. And Karlach of course, whose pacing was the source of the sound that had likely made you stir.

   “Karlach” you croke out, grabbing her attention immediately 

    She's beside you in a second, her warm hands gently cupping your face and caressing your healed injury, “Oh thank the Gods”

   “I think thanking Shadowheart may be more appropriate”

   A smirk crosses her features, “Oh believe me, I’ll get to that. But right now…Right no I just want to look at you. And hold you.”

   You nod your approval and she gently scoops you into her arms. You return her hug and feel your heart clench in your chest as she nuzzles against your neck, letting her tears land against your bare skin, “Oh, love…”

   She shakes slightly with a sob, “Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me? You had me scared, so fucking scared, soldier.”

   “I’m sorry love, I’ll be more careful in the future.”

   “Damn right you will be. You won’t be allowed to fight more than an arm's length away from me, and I mean that!” she clarifies, snaking her tail around your waist, “I can’t lose you. Not after everything.”

   You hum and run a hand through her hair, trying your best to ignore that pit in your stomach that tells you that all too soon you’ll be the one in her shoes. Begging her to stay, begging for more time and cursing the unfairness of it all.

   “I’m not going anywhere, not while I have you”

   After a few more seconds of soaking in your presence she pulls away to rest her forehead against yours, “We should go see the others, they we worried about you too”

   You lean forward and press your lips against hers briefly, “Alright, let's show them all I’m alright”

   She helps you get to your feet, but when she sees how wobbly you still are she opts to just carry you over to everyone, “Look who's awake!”

   Everyone's heads turn to look at the tiefling carrying you, and the look of relief on their faces as Karlach holds you brings a smile to your face. It truly warms your heart to see just how close this group of misfits has become.

   “Glad to see you're alright, I wouldn’t have known how to comfort any of these weirdos if you weren’t” Astarion quips, but you see the real amount of care and worry in his eyes

   “Well, I can’t leave you in that situation now, can I? Guess I’ll need to be more careful so I can stick around”

   “That would be preferred, yes” the Cleric agrees, offering you a small smile which you return

   Gale passes you and Karlach both bowls of stew, “I agree, we all would be quite lost without you to guide us. But let's stop being melancholy and enjoy this night together”

   You smile and glance back at your lover, “Yes, lets”

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 karlach #karlach #karlach cliffgate #karlach x reader #karlach x tav #bg3 fanfiction

[nanaslutt]

choso with tongue piercing? >_<

hngh i need his tongue inside me :(

😝

Bestfriend!Choso X Reader :3

contains: fem reader, teasing, dirty talk, exhibitionism (they're in a car), sexual tension, oral (r!receiving), Choso’s first time giving head, slight jealousy, whipped!Choso & reader, first time receiving, reader has a bad track record w/ guys, mentions of bj, so soft & sweet

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Holy fuck." You swallowed hard at the view in front of you. "My brother convinced me to get it done when he got some of his piercings, said it could be a bonding experience," Choso explained, putting his tongue decorated with the little silver ball back into his mouth. "Did it hurt?" You asked, your mind still reeling that he had hidden a tongue piercing from you for all these years.

"It wasn't horrible, I'm pretty good with pain. I don't really see the point in having it pierced though." He started to explain, "No one ever sees it, even I forget it's there sometimes." Choso finished. You just smiled and nodded, pretending to listen as he kept talking about his experience getting pierced.

You had already thought of 400 scenarios in which you would let choso put his tongue (and piercing) to work on your body, so the pain he went to to get the pretty jewelry wouldnt be in vain. One particular scenario stood out in your head of him tongue fucking you, feeling the metal against your clit and- "You okay?" Choso's voice rang in your ears.

"Huh?" You said, pulling yourself from your daydream. "I asked if you would ever get your tongue pierced and you just froze up." He explained, scrunching his eyebrows together. "Oh! Oh right! I uh, I'm pretty squeamish around needles so thinking about it makes me a little... nervous" You lied through your teeth, thanking the universe that he seemed to believe it.

For the rest of the day the two of you spent together, the only thing you could focus on was his piercing. Unbeknownst to you, he had caught you several times. Choso had purposely run his tongue over his lips to wet them, every so often, just to see your breath hitch when you got a glimpse of the silver.

As he was driving the two of you back to his house for a nightcap, some relaxing song playing in the background, you spoke up through the silence, "Thanks for today Choso! I know the night isn't over yet but the museum you took us to was so much fun, we have to go to the cafe inside next time!" you exclaimed. He turned his head away from the road to look at you, before returning his gaze on the dark street.

"I'm surprised you remembered there was a cafe." He said, a hint of teasing, and snarkiness hiding in his voice. "Huh?" You voiced, tilting your head at him in confusion. "You seemed out of it today." He elaborated, "Is there something going on?" He asked, keeping his voice and face fairly monotone. His question caught you off guard, had you really been acting that weird all day? So much so that he picked up on it? Oh god.

"No! No, I'm just a little tired today, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be weird." You forced out a laugh, once again coming up with a quick and hopefully believable lie. Unluckily for you, Choso saw right through it. "Are you sure? Because you were acting fine until I showed you my piercing." He said, hitting the nail right on the head.

You froze, not expecting him to be able to pinpoint the exact moment in the day you started behaving strangely, why was he so damn observant? "Oh.. really?" You said, no bullshit lies or excuses coming to your tongue, so you tried to laugh it off instead, saying something about a coincidence. "Did me sharing that make you uncomfortable?" He said, making you immediately reassure him that was absolutely not the case.

He turned the car onto your street, driving slowly down the dark path and towards your house. The two of you have been friends for the longest time, spending practically every second together any chance you got, so of course he knew the way to your house like the back of his hand.

"Oh my god no! No choso, really it's.. it's nothing.." You panicked slightly, not wanting him to feel bad for you being a perv and not being able to control yourself over a piercing. You sighed heavily, scrunching your face up as you seriously contemplated telling him what was really going on with you today.

No matter what you did you couldn't stop imagining your oblivious best friend's tongue between your legs, flicking your clit with his tongue and teasing the bud with the cold metal. You wanted to feel guilty you really did, but the vision was too delicious to feel any remorse.

"Does it turn you on?" He asked, pulling into your driveway and putting the car into part before he unbuckled himself and turned his body to face you. The expression on his face was unreadable, which made you nervous. Your face was heating up, and your mouth dropped open and closed like a fish out of water, trying to think of a response as your brain processed his unexpected words. You really didn't want your long-term secret crush on your best friend to be exposed like this.

"The piercing, does it turn you on?" He asked again, rephrasing his question. Oh god.. he was going to call you a perv and kick you out of the car, leaving you cold and alone in your own driveway if you said yes right? He would definitely think you were weird, who thinks about their best friend in that way?

You opted to shut your mouth, as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded as softly as you could, unsure of your own actions. He looked past you, scanning the outside around the two of you to make sure there were no witnesses before he spoke his next words. "Wanna find out why I actually got this piercing?" He asked, making your face turn a dark shade of crimson as you whispered out a needy, "Please.."

--

"Fuck- Ohmygod right there Choso- Fuck!" Your hands dug into his soft strands of hair as he ate you out like a man starved. He had you on your back in the backseat of the car, legs splayed out for him as he laid between them, feasting on your cunt. He flattened his tongue out against your clit, making sure the ball of the piercing was kissing the little bud before he shook his head back and forth, stimulating your clit against it.

It had happened so fast, he had leaned forward and pressed your lips together, asking if this was okay before he unbuckled your seatbelt while you were distracted, and somehow the two of you had ended up in the backseat. You weren't sure why he didn't just drag you inside but you couldn't lie that the thrill of doing something like this in the car was exciting.

Choso scissored his fingers in and out of you, abusing your g-spot with the pads of his digits as they curled up against it. His tongue was working you over so well, he drew his name over and over on your clit, occasionally sucking it into his warm mouth and humming around it, sending delicious vibrations through your cunt.

Choso had never told you about any of his sexual conquests, so you werent really sure what to expect in terms of how well he would do when he said he was going to eat you out. Now you were begining to think he had a side job as a porn star or something because his technique was unreal.

"H-how are you so fucking g-good mph!" You cut yourself off with a whine when he suckled your clit particularly hard, making your body jolt against him. Truthfully, Choso had never eaten anyone out before, but he most definitely had watched porn and practiced on his hand for the day he got the courage to ask you out.

He wasn't expecting the opportunity to fall into his lap this easily, so when he saw your eyes light up at his piercing, he internally thanked the gods that you caught a glimpse of it in the sun, which led to him revealing the jewelry to you.

Choso always paid the utmost attention to you, without you even knowing it. He knew what you liked and disliked, he even so much as knew every detail about your tone and facial expressions to make sure you were constantly pleased and comfortable, he always wanted the best for you after all.

He watched how people would break your heart and toss you aside like you were nothing, it alwasy made him furious. They were absolute idiots to give you up, he hated seeing you sad over some unemployed nobody who never really cared about you from the start. Althogh he hated them, he couldnt help but feel a little grateful for them. If it werent for them taking you for granted, you might be in a relationship still, and the two of you wouldnt be in his backseat right now.

Choso moaned against your core when your hands tightened in his hair, rolling his eyes at the feeling of your nails digging into his scalp. "Does it feel good?" He said back, knowing damn well your answer. "Yes, yes Choso, fuck!" You moaned, dropping your chin to watch him work between your thighs.

He was already looking at you when your eyes locked with his. His eyebrows scrunched together upon feeling your gaze, keeping his dark eyes on yours as he ate you out with more vigor, drinking in your body’s every reaction to his tongue. The vibrations from his deep groans were going to push you over the edge. "Choso- Choso I'm close," You whined, fighting your eyes from rolling back in your head so you could keep your eyes on his and watch him do his thing.

He was so unbelievably handsome like this, the streetlights casting beautiful shadows on his face, and his expression was so needy it made your heart skip a beat. The way his eyebrows mimicked your expressions whenever he did something that felt particularly good, was so hot, he was so attentive.

The man between your legs was feeling drunk. This was something he only dreamed of and it was actually happening. He felt like his cock was going to burst from just tasting you alone, but he would gladly make home between your thighs forever. "Please," He begged from between your legs, scrunching his eyebrows together as he ate you out with more vigor.

He released his fingers from your tight hole and opted to replace them with his tongue, pressing his face as tightly against you as he could to make sure his tongue was fucking inside you as deep as possible, making sure to lick his tongue upwards against your walls so you could feel his piercing inside you. His fingers came to rub little circles on your clit with expert precision, making your legs start to shake.

You dug your nails against his scalp as you humped your hips against his face, hearing his muffled moans encourage you from between your thighs. "Ohmygod Choso! I-I'm cumming-" You wined before you felt the knot start to unravel. Choso swore he almost came in his pants at how sensually you cried out his name, mentally recording it for later.

He kept up his ministrations on your pussy, drinking up everything you gave him as you came hard on his face, squishing his soft cheeks between your thighs. He was mesmerized as he watched your body shake and curl in on itself, he stared at your mouth as it dropped open and spilled out profanities and whines of his name, broken on your tongue. When your back relaxed against the seat of the car once more he slowed his fingers on your clit, careful to not overstimulate you.

"Holy f-fuck Choso." You whispered, leaving your hands in his hair and running them through your own, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You took a quick look around in the post haze of your orgasm and noticed how foggy the windows were, so much for trying not to be obvious; anyone with half a brain would know what was going on if they walked past your car.

After he made sure he licked you clean, he pulled his face back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, raising his body to sit comfortably on the seat as his other large hand came to caress your thigh soothingly. "Was that okay?" He asked, looking at you like a puppy.

"Okay?" You repeated, astonished he was asking as if he didn't just witness how hard you came, "I'm pretty sure that was the best orgasm I've ever had in my life." You laughed, making him smile at your words as your hand came down on top of his while he was petting your thigh. "Thank felt so good Choso, thank you." You said blushing as you closed your legs, noticing how exposed you were in comparison to him.

Of course, he picked up on this, he reached over to pick up your previously discarded panties from the floor of the car, wiping them off before he handed them, alone with your pants, to you. You said your thanks to him and he nodded shyly, a stark difference to how he was acting moments ago. It wasn't till you were almost finished getting dressed again when you noticed his massive boner. How did you not see it before? You felt so bad for letting him sit like that for god knows how long.

"Choso, you're hard." You said, stating the obvious. The man blushed and pulled his t-shirt over his hard-on to cover it. "Let me take care of it for you." You offered, leaning your body over his and placing your hands on his toned thighs, "I-Its okay-" His warm hands came down to grab your forearms, stopping you. "What? Really? It doesn't look okay," You giggled, looking up between your lashes at him.

Of course, he wanted you to get him off, that sounded perfect, but he needed to properly take care of you first. Your legs were still trembling and you were still out of breath, on top of that he could tell you were tired; that orgasm had taken a lot out of you, so he could wait. "Don't worry about me, I'll go down." He assured, rubbing his hands on your wrists soothingly and making you hum. "I still need to clean you up and make sure you're okay." He finished, making you blush. No man has ever said that to you before, and no man has ever eaten you out before tonight either but you wouldn't tell Choso that right now.

Truthfully, you were feeling tired, and the prospect of Choso cleaning you up didnt sound half bad right now, "Are you sure? It really wont take long." You offered one last time. He smiled and pushed your arms off of his thighs so he could leave the car, "Im sure, some other time." He said boldly, making you nod silently as he opened the car door and stepped out.

You started to do the same but his voice stopped you in your tracks, "Don't move." He ordered, so you didn't. It didn't take long after he shut his own door that he was opening yours, Choso now standing in front of you as he leaned inside the car and scooped you into his arms, making you giggle as he slammed the door behind him. "Choso! I can walk." You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he held you in a princess carry.

"Don't wanna take any chances, your legs are still trembling pretty hard." He said, making you blush and want to hide away at his exposing words. "I think you're the sweetest man I'll ever know." You said to him, smiling at his blushing face as he quickly avoided his eyes with yours. He moved his hand to effortlessly type in your door code as he brought the both of you inside, away from the chilly air.

I better be, he wanted to say, but opted to only acknowledge your words with a hum as the front door clicked shut behind the both of you.

#i have a toothache this is too sweet #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso x you #choso smut #choso x y/n #choso fluff #choso kamo #kamo choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk choso #choso #choso my beloved #choso x female reader #choso supremacy #choso smau #jjk smau #jujutsu smut #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut

[myun-saidthoughts]

🥀 Astrology Observations 🥀

🦋 Water house synastry increases or creates co-dependent behaviors

🦋 When dealing with 12th house synastry and unrequited love/dismissive behavior from one person (as the planet person or the person who has more Pisces/12H/Neptune influence) often times, they may struggle with over emphasizing "synchronicities."

Example: Their name randomly pops up on your FYP/Twitter or what not and even though they haven't spoken to you in weeks or months even, falling into a dilemma where you tell yourself this is a "sign" to text them or that they are thinking of you may occur.

Example: If you find yourself constantly checking their social media, you might start interpreting their story posts as covert expressions of their feelings for you. In turn, you might even resort to dropping subtle hints on your own social media, hoping they'll notice and reciprocate the attention.

Example: You may accept the fact that this person no longer thinks of you but they could post one (1) vague story, comment, picture, tweet and if that said post could have *any* relation to you, then a part of you (or all of you) may believe that it's confirmation that they like you again or that they are thinking of you again, regardless of outside or external factors that have happened.

Falling into a delusional hole is likely and unless there are consistent clear and prominent signs or words that they are not thinking of you or that they are interested in someone else, a part of you will fixate and wonder if what they are posting is for you, about you or to you.

🦋 Virgo Moon criticize's themself harder than they criticize others

🦋 Sagittarius Sun + Taurus rising creates a very optimistic, grounding, and stable individual regardless of trauma or hurt. (Needless to say everyone has their breaking point)

🦋 Capricorn Moon men with a water rising + have polarized emotional feelings. They become extremely uncomfortable with feelings yet emotions run high and they could have outburts

🦋 Capricorn Moon individuals have a very harsh relationship with their mother, either she was cold, dismissive, strict or uncommunicative. A part of their soul felt un-nurtured or cared for in a way that they needed.

🦋 Moon square Neptune in a birth chart indicates a mother who struggled(s) with addiction, reality, or with mental health. The tighter the orb the more severe or prominent the mother's behavior was towards the child.

🦋 People with natal 4th/8th/12th or have prominent Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces placements that have harsh aspects towards Neptune/Pluto/Chiron/Lilith may prefer intense water house synastry

🦋 Sagittarius, Virgo + Aquarius in a birth chart can indicate a highly intellectual and intelligent soul. They may have a gift of photographic memory.

🦋 Heavy Libra/Leo/5H placements all give off the same aesthetic in my opinion, very feminine, they attract more than they chase

🦋 Mars oppose/conjunct (sometimes square) Moon + Venus synastry creates intense and obvious attraction between one another, you may experience a heightened desire for intimacy with them, possibly leading to an increase in your usual level of sexual expression; especially if you are objectively very attracted to them.

🦋 Mars conjunct/oppose ascendant synastry can create jealousy or dislike towards the ascendant person if both parties are the same sex. (Especially if there has been one awkward encounter where Mars's confidence was affected because of Mars's own personal core wounds)

🦋 Leo Moon/Venus need their partner to show them off. Their partner has to openly and loudly claim them, not in an annoying or suffocating way but in a way where they feel instantly validated or wanted; to the point where everyone naturally notices

🦋 Scorpio/Pisces + Neptune aspecting the MC/ASC) rising's have similar facial features

I've noticed that Scorpio + Neptune aspecting the MC/ASC can creates that emo aesthetic (also heavy Pisces individuals as well can fall into that aesthetic too)

🦋 Jupiter in the 8H indicates your family (or others around you, people/partners) has or have had wealth, whether that be from your/their parents, grandparents, and so forth.

🦋 Malefic planets like Pluto's or benefic planets like Jupiter placed in the 2H/8H house showcases dealing with an extreme theme when it comes to money; in some point of life

Pluto in the 2H/8H showcases extremities of having money then losing it all, becoming obsessed with money, or receiving high sums of money and becoming careless with it; power trips could occur where you can't be given your money because of higher authorities or officials (2H) or because of family issues with tax documents and trusts (8H) etc. Truly the themes here that can manifest are endless and as always aspects/full natal charts paint the better picture.

🦋 11H Moon individual's give so much to their friendships, it's as if no matter how many times they get burned by someone, their soul still asks and searches for a the kind of friend they are.

(Bonus if they have 12H placements too then the search for authentic, considerate and kind souls feel like a never ending battle that they keep losing too and no matter how many times they feel burned they still keep searching)

🦋 Moon conjunct Pluto in a composite chart creates the same intensity as 8th House/Pluto synastry; the relationship can't be light.

🦋 5H synastry increases the chances of partying with one another. You may see them out often or make plans that involve the night life/parties. Childlike fun behaviors can also occur and with one another energies are lifted and there is no negativity.

🦋 With past life connections: when you are with them, 1 hour feels like 10 minutes; before you know it 6 hours pass and you don't even realize it.

🦋 Heavy Aries placements (especially Sun or rising + chart ruler) tend to prioritize the gym and their body. Working out comes so natural to them.

#astrology #astro notes #astro observations #12th house synastry #8th house synastry #8h synastry #12h synastry #8th house #astrology notes #pluto synastry #astrology oberservations #astology thoughts #astrology houses

[lale-txt]

❥ subtle ways they say "I love you" without saying it ↳ w/ Nanami, Ino, Toji & Naoya

a/n: gn!reader for Nanami, Toji & Ino, f!reader for Naoya! somehow i got carried away writing these and halfway through wondered if i should have just made single fics for each of them... oh well ♡-(๑˙ー˙๑)-♡

word count: 1.5k

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

Nanami needs his sweet time until he’ll put his feelings into proper words, part of him too afraid to pursue love during his time as jujutsu sorcerer, but his actions have always been louder than words anyway

his love is stored in the smallest gestures, like fixing the collar of your shirt or helping you put on a necklace, not letting you go without kissing the back of your neck gently, his lips lingering on your skin for a heartbeat longer than expected

when you’re in a bookstore together, his eyes always follow you around even when you’re looking at different shelves; he observes which books you pick up and put back again because you have too many unread ones at home (both of you are terrible book hoarders), just so he can go back another day and get you the one book you really wanted

sometimes he’ll also make the time to read it before he gifts it to you, small scribbled thoughts on the side so you can discuss them together later–a tiny book club of two lovers

in the comfort of your home, Nanami is also incredibly touchy, never not seeking skin contact; anything will do, even if it’s just linked pinkies across the table while you’re having your morning coffee and sharing the newspaper

his love will seep into you with every gaze, every smile, every kiss you share

with you, Nanami can let his guard down; he can allow himself to just be loved, with his head in your lap as you run your fingers through his hair, charming out sweet sounds from his throat that sound a lot like “I love you” if you listen closely

if he has to leave for a solo mission, Nanami will leave a handwritten note on the table for you to find in the morning, nothing too cheesy but enough to remind you that you’re always on his mind

and if you show him your collection of notes one day, stored in a box in your closet, a smile will play upon his lips, asking you if you really kept all of them (even if some of them just say things like “Can you buy eggs while I’m out? I want to make us waffles for breakfast tomorrow” or “I watered your dying plant on the top shelf. xx”) 

there’s wonder in his eyes when he looks at you, as if he sometimes finds it hard to believe that your love is mutual, that he’s allowed to experience this during his lifetime, and the quiet hope that maybe, maybe this can last forever

❦ 𝐈𝐍𝐎

Ino’s love for you is written all over his face: the way it lights up when he sees you, the confident yet boyish smirk when you compliment him, the gleam in his eyes when you call out for him

it’s in his touch, too

his fingers playing with yours when you’re sitting somewhere together, always fidgeting with them as if he couldn’t believe that he really gets to hold your hand

or the arm that sneaks around your waist when you’re on the train together and it’s crowded, his body shielding you from the other passengers and giving you some space to breathe (plus–how convenient–he can steal a kiss from your lips without anyone looking, too)

Ino also walks you home at any given occasion, whether it’s after a night out with your senpais or after a mission you’ve been on together; he doesn’t mind that he lives in a different neighborhood or if he has to get up early the next day, he rather wants to know you’re home safely

when you’re apart, Ino and you keep texting with each other throughout the day, his lips curling into a smile whenever your name lights up on his screen

Ino will text you everything and anything that reminds him of you and it’s plenty and in the most mundane things

[img.attached] “saw this chonky cat on my mission. u would have loved to give them belly rubs. Nanami said i’m not allowed to take them home with me”

[new text] “i think we should adopt a cat one day. maybe two so it doesn’t get lonely. knowing us we’ll also adopt a third”

[voice message] “babe can you hear this? i’ve never heard a cat purr like this. (sounds of rustling and Ino sweet talking to the cat, it’s purring very loudly)”

[new text] “i hope the cat distribution system chooses us next”

being loved by Ino means being part of his future and his dreams; he’s thinking of you always and can’t imagine a life without you in it, so listen closely when he tells you all about it

❦ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

Toji isn’t shy to admit his love verbally, whispered into your ear at night, his voice bourbon raspy, making sure you never forget how your own name sounds when rolled off his lips

being in love makes him domestic; Toji grew up not knowing what a warm home is, and so he’ll strive to make his place one for you both to hide from the world outside

it’s like your presence is a reminder that even someone like him is allowed to love, and be loved in return

Toji brings you your favorite beverage to bed in the morning, urging you not to get up just yet (he also wants to slip back under the covers with you)

if you really have to get up on on cold mornings though, Toji will give you his worn and warmed up sweater for you to wear so you won’t be freezing

he also slips pocket warmers into your coat before you leave the house and gives you the deepest kiss, almost as if his biggest concern is that you stay warm

cooking isn’t Toji’s strong suit but he’ll get you takeout, even if it means driving across the whole town to get you that one dish from that specific restaurant that you’re craving (and some dessert on top); your big smile once he returns home is his solely reward

after seeing you struggle with opening a jar of jam once, Toji will go around the kitchen and loosen the lids of all the jars for you. every single one of them. there won’t be even one jar left that gives you any further troubles

it’s endearing in a way, how Toji always takes the fastest route to solve your struggles (there’s barely anything he can’t solve with his hands)

with love, it all comes down to warmth for Toji: the heat of your body when he has his arms wrapped around you. letting you warm up your cold hands on his stomach (he tries his best not to flinch). sharing a hot bath while you’re getting snowed in.

to Toji, you are his sun, the one who brought back colors into his life and who showed him what it means to live despite everything; he may be blinded by your light but he doesn’t need to see to find your lips in every universe 

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀

Naoya doesn’t do love, he prefers to be worshiped and adored over admitting his feeling for you

yet still, he has his ways of showing that you actually mean something more to him than just being his trophy wife

the kitchen staff and servants have been drilled to cook all of your meals exactly to your liking, and he’ll look overly pleased with himself over dinner when he notices that you enjoy the food, proud of himself as if he was the one who prepared it for you (smug bastard that he is)

there’s always an air of possessiveness around him when you’re with him; as if he wants the whole world to know that you’re his wife, even insisting you walk by his side instead of behind him, always one hand around your waist or in the back of your neck, making sure to keep you close

even though it displeases him that you want to spent time apart from him, he made sure that you get a room of your own in the Zen’in estate after your arranged marriage (he still lingers around often until you kick him out)

he insists on sharing a bed at night though–it’s when he gets surprisingly clingy, insisting to hold you close, his hands playing with anything he can get a hold of: your hair, the hem of the pajamas he picked out for you in the color he thinks suits you best, the ring on your finger that proofs you’re his

Naoya can be surprisingly gentle in those moments when it’s just the two of you–no family and no servants around

his sharp yellow eyes study your features thoroughly, ignoring the pull at his heart strings when he picks up an eyelash from your cheeks and holds it out for you when you make a wish

he’s dying to know what you wished for, but he doesn’t ask; part of him scared it doesn’t involve him, part of him too prideful to believe you could wish for something that doesn’t include him, because at the end of the day you still belong to him–or is it the other way around?

#jjk x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #ino x reader #naoya x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #nanami kento #ino takuma #toji fushiguro #naoya zenin #nanami kento x reader #ino takuma x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #naoya zenin x reader #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios

[hoshigray]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - oral (m! receiving) - ball-massaging - face + throat-fucking - praise - pet names (baby, cutie, mama, sweet thing) - implied that reader has given oral prior - first-time Toji finding enjoyment in receiving oral - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of spit.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: "Toji has never really enjoyed oral. At least, not until Y/n went down on them for the first time…"

I was playing with NSFW prompts for the first time, and this was literally the first one it gave me…genius. (¬‿¬) guess kinda a switch-up from this oldie i did~ hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year's, accept this as my welcome back present, hehe~ also tysm for 4.6k, hello????

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k

“…Hey, Toji?” 

“Yeah, baby?”

“…Can I…..give you a blowjob?”

Up until this point, Toji was never one to be given oral from anyone. 

Giving oral isn’t a problem. But receiving it from someone else? That’s another thing. Call it his personal preference or years of sexual experience, but the older man never actually found pleasure in it. It could be from the many inexperienced minxs he’s had to get his dick wet, whose frequent teeth and bites sabotaged the mood for him. Or probably from the others who just really didn’t appear to know what they were doing — again, ruining the mood. Or the fact that most of the time, as mentioned, he finds himself satisfying his partner at the time more than himself. 

Not that he minds at all; no, no. He finds great satisfaction in going in between someone’s legs and getting them turned on from his work. But when it comes to the thought of having his dick sucked, it’s a hard pass. Respectfully. 

Which brings us to the present: him on the couch with an arm wrapped behind your shoulders, bringing you close to him as you watch television comfortably. The ceiling lights dimmed to a warm low glow, your head draped on his shoulder as his hand rubs comforting circles on yours, and the silence only filled with the voices coming from the TV isn’t awkward in the presence of you two. Why would it be? He’s with you, his little sweet thing. And that’s all he wants right now.

So, after all the fidgeting with your thumbs and the occasion glances at him (which he noticed, of course), it was apparent that you’d soon ask him something out of the blue. What he hadn’t expected, though, was that question. 

“Pfft, that’s random,” he scoffs at the sudden question, and more subtle chuckles resort from the bashful turn of your head. God, you were so cute. “Why ask, sweet thing?”

“I was…just wondering, you know?” Your eyes travel down to your twiddling thumbs, avoiding Toji’s deep, observant emerald gaze. “We’ve been together for this long, and not once have I ever given you a blowjob. And I know, you always say you’re fine with it, but like…I really wanna give you one.”

And that’s when you muster up some confidence to peer up at him meekly, and that’s what seals the deal for Toji. Who is he to deny such puppy dog eyes from his baby? 

“Okay then,” he chortles with a smirk, the scar on his right side rooted up. It’s just a blowjob. If not for me, then for them. “Do what you do, cutie.” Little did he know that this would blow his expectations far out.

It started out nice and slow. Toji indulged in your kisses as you snuck your hand into the hem of his drawstring pants, sucking on his tongue while fingers crept inside his boxer briefs to give his cock a rub. He groans into your mouth, liking how you’re setting the mood until you take your lips away from his and slide off the couch to be between his legs. Removing his underwear to the floor, you examine his half-soft dick before using your hands to wrap around the base, massaging around it while you take the tip in your mouth. Toji sighs in bliss at the feeling of your soft licks and rolls of your tongue, shifting around to get more comfortable on the couch.

His erection becomes less and less flaccid, hardening around your mouth. This is where you decide to take in more of his length, hallowing your cheeks as you push your puffy lips down halfway down his erection. By the time you reach this base, your throat is so full of Toji’s girth that you use his sweatpants as reins for your hands as you try to give yourself a few seconds to adjust to the limb occupying your throat. You continue to suck on his cock, bobbing up and down with your saliva coating him, your tongue moving around on the underside of his dick every time you suck up to the tippy top. 

The sucks and strokes to his length become a little faster, and it’s here that Toji can’t concentrate on the television. Subtle twitches of his leg result from the hummed moan you express while taking him to the hilt. The vibrations that resonate along the inner walls of your throat are felt. It feels so good. And the tongue of yours? Fuck. His brows trench down when your tongue licks from the bottom of his ridge to the frenulum, giving his cockhead an onslaught of rough licks and kisses that has Toji exhale through his nose. “Hmmnn, fuck…Y/n, baby, y’re so good at this…Uhghh!”

You release his tip with a soft ‘plop’ with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his spit-covered cock. “Ahahhn, really?” Oh, fucking shit, don’t look at him like that. Your hooded eyes peering up at him with a soft smile while your hands maintain a stroking rhythm that has Toji squirm around your grasp. And then you surprise him with a grasp of his ballsack, oh you’re a devilish cutie. “That makes me happy to know,” you give him a giggle when Toji involuntarily bucks to your hands; the veiny limb contrasting with your pretty fingers is such a sight to see. The pulsating commotion between your legs progresses more by the second.

More dangerous licks paired with the massage to his balls as Toji huff is bliss. “Ahhh, sh–shit…Ya like how my dick tastes, mama?”

Taking his cock back into your mouth with alluringly half-lidded eyes is the answer you give him, your lips covering your teeth as your jaw relaxes to welcome his neither limb back inside your warm oral cavity. The suction of your hallow cheeks became lethal with the increased speed, your tongue now swirling around him and creating such deviant noises that only Toji focuses on despite the television vices failing to drown them out. 

Holy shit, Toji wasn’t expecting this kind of treatment at all. This was downright out of the water from all the other oral ordeals he’s had in his life. How the fuck were you so good at this!? Cupping his balls while slurping his dick was such a dangerous combo; Toji doesn’t know how long he’ll contain the urge to stand and fuck your face here and now. Goddamn, the faster you bob your lips on him, the shiver down his spine is hard to ignore. His hips jerking to your mouth; he wants to fuck your face so bad. And just looking at your ass sway while you suck on him, he knows you’re enjoying this as well. 

It reaches a point where he can’t take it anymore — he wants to go faster and harder. So Toji grabs your head as he stands up and dials the tempo to a harsher motion, propelling your lips down to his pelvis. And you’re quick not to panic, being sure to breathe when Toji smacks his testicles to your chin and ruts into your face and throat with no mercy. Toji moans at the sensation of your gummy walls wrapping around his length, hissing at your muffled wails as he hits the back of your throat. “Fsshhh—Hnngh!! Fuckin’ shit, just like that, mama, just like that…Ohhggh!”

You can feel the veins on his girth pulsate, indicating that his release is soon coming. The thrusts to your face get erratically faster, so you’re sure to grab onto his sweatpants to make sure you don’t lose balance as he spills his load down your throat. Ending it with a few rough hits to your lips, Toji groans with gritted teeth, shaky, strong legs pumping his semen for you to drink, which you merrily take with muzzled squeals on his shaft. The both of you experience the last moment of this euphoric high until Toji’s body calms down, heavy breaths going slower with every expel. He gives you a few moments to suck him off a little more before removing himself from you, gradually pulling his length, quivering with the aftershocks at the dismissal of your warm walls around him. And he jolts when you tease him with one last lick to the sensitive tip. 

“Hahhh, damn, cutie,” Toji takes a seat back on the couch, eyeing you down with a weary smirk and furrowed brows. “Since when did ya like to get down and dirty?”

You sheepishly smile back and avert your eyes down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I’m glad you liked it, Toji.” 

“Sure as hell did,” he bends down to grab your chin and bring you in for a kiss. The squeaks you let out when he bites your lips are too adorable and hot to his ears. “Want me to eat you out, sweet thing?”

“Really?” God, you were too cute — beaming at him like that with such a lovely smile. 

“Sure thing. Besides, I saw the way you were movin' that ass while suckin’ me off. So, I got you,” Toji takes off his sweatpants, moving his legs to be on the couch entirely. His dick is still standing erect, and he gives you a suggestive grin before tapping his chest, a sign for you to get ready and sit on him. “Only if ya can do that shit on me again.” The request takes you aback for a minute, but you chuckle and stand up. You remove your bottoms and underwear, and Toji notices the wet spot on the material. 

Again, Toji is Toji was never one to be given oral. But if he’s going to be treated like this, you might be able to change his mind.

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔 #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x you #toji x y/n #fushiguro toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk imagines #jjk fic

[thebibliosphere]

If you feel like talking about it — what’s the *aftermath* of anaphylaxis like? I know that an epipen is just step one, and further treatment and observation follows at a hospital, but I’m curious about what the subjective experience is like in the longer term; whether one can bounce back fairly well or whether there’s lingering unpleasantness.

So with the caveat that everyone experiences things differently (and putting this under a cut because I don't want to trigger anyone):

After epi is administered, you're usually put on a cocktail of drugs ranging from several different IV antihistamines (typically a mix of h1 and h2 histamine blockers and a giant whack of benadryl), anti-nausea meds, a beta-agonist to assist with breathing, and a shit-whack of steroids.

Once you've been stable for a few hours and discharged, you'll be told to watch for symptoms for up to 72 hours, which is the period in which a biphasic reaction can happen. (For me, it's always within 20 minutes to 8 hours after rescue medication is administered if I'm going to slip back into an allergic response, but everyone is different.)

Depending on your symptoms, you'll sometimes be told to take an antihistamine for up to 72 hours (if you're not already taking one daily), but the one thing they always send you home with is a steroid like prednisone. I usually need a 5-7 day dose because I need to taper off it or my adrenals crash, but some people get a 3-day dose and come off it with no problems.

Body-wise, it's a draining experience, and the medications often leave you both tired and wired. It's an odd sensation.

Mentally and emotionally, it takes me a lot longer to recover because I've just been smacked with a proverbial mallet of stress hormones and adrenaline, and that can often lead to depressive moods and even rage for some people. The prednisone also heightens emotions, so it's not unusual to be having some of the wildest mood swings of your life while also processing the stress of what just happened.

It takes me a while to bounce back, typically about a week on full rest, but I know some people who claim to feel fine in a couple of days. Couldn't be me, haha. My body goes into hibernation mode for quite a while, and I'll be lying in bed exhausted and jittering like I've had ten espressos, but I don't know how much of that is general anaphylaxis or how much of that is specific to my mast cell disorder.

So, for me, it's a desperate need to sleep, jitteriness, depression, and rapid mood swings from the prednisone followed by a general feeling of blegh. It also takes me about 72 hours to be able to eat solid foods again because of the effect anaphylaxis has on the digestive tract (the esophagus is lined with histamine receptors; that's why some heartburn meds are actually antihistamines.), but I suspect that's my MCAS.

It's basically just a bit shit, lol.

#chronic health tag #anaphylaxis #personal experiences

[daddyricsdoll]

“Fuck, I’ll make it fit.” Ollie bearman..I barely see fics of him. Make it long please.

Ohhh well since his f1 debut luckily there’s more fics about him, and he’s becoming more popular so us Ollie girlies can expect more. But also shout out to the people already writing about him!! 💗

⋅˚₊‧🧸ྀི ‧₊˚ ⋅

“It would be illegal if we didn’t.” I start pulling Ollie’s fireproof off. Breathing deeply with our bodies close. Answering his question of whether he should touch me in ways we’ve only done once before. But now he’s an F1 driver, it’s different, he’s different. From the way he makes contact to my skin with more confidence and a different type of control he has on me.

My body bare, fully stripped of clothes as it’s only Ollie’s fireproof that’s left on him. My hands forced it down his legs to rest around his knees.

Releasing his dick and watching as it bobs up right in front of me. Precum dripping from his angry, red tip. A silent but devastatingly loud beg to be inside of me.

Forcing my pussy to clench and make it more than certain that I’m dripping. “Please” I breathe out. Moving back and sitting against the massage table, giving me better access to lift and spread my legs wide. Observing the way his eyes lock onto my core, and he fails to suppress a moan. Goosebumps grow along my skin as Ollie begins to align his cock with my entrance. Remembering the pleasurable struggle it was for him to push in last time, and how I’ll never grow accustomed to his size.

Thrusting into me so slowly I can memorise each nanometre. But the burn distracts me from everything else.

“Fuck, I’ll make it fit.” Ollie grunts out. Going deeper and deeper, certain to hit every spot. My hands clenched in tight fists and mouth agape. Whispering a string of “fucks” under my breath. My stomach already tight at the first thrust, so when he makes the next I can’t help but pull him closer to me. Trying to hold control over his actions, but my body somehow feeble after seconds.

Unable to hold back the pornographic sounds leaving my mouth as Ollie pounds inside and out of me. Shifting my whole body with his movements and making it impossible for me to think.

His dick sliding inside and out of me on repeat like a broken record. And my eyes turn glassy from each sensation, whether it’s a sear or throbbing feeling.

Attempting to praise him but words fail to leave my mouth, leaving all the speaking to him. Nearly melting at the way he’d utter words to me. Whether he’d repeat my name or tell me “you’re so good for me.”

Just craving to lay my mouth against his skin, kissing and sucking love bites onto him. Giving him the kind of love that words can’t. I latch my lips onto his skin, favouring his neck and collarbone. Endlessly clenching around his girth when he emits such indescribable but such arousing groans and moans from his pink lips. Matching the same shade as his flushed cheeks.

I could tell how eager Ollie was to release, trying to hide his vulnerability but he knew I could see past that.

“Mmmm ‘been such a good boy, you can come.” I moan out. Barely seconds later Ollie reaches his climax. Pulling my head closer to his to steal my breath in a staggering kiss. Not just stealing my breath, but composure to hold the knot in my stomach. Coming around his dick crying out his name.

Still even after an experience moulded just for me, I need more. As my addiction to Ollie becomes even more compelling, I bring my mouth to his ear, only warning him for my spree. “How many points did you get again?” I whisper, grinding my hips and watching the avidity grow on his face.

#f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #ollie bearman x y/n #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman smut #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman #oliver bearman #ollie bearman x female reader #f2 x you #f2 fanfic #f2 fic #f2 fluff #f2 smut #f2 #f2 x reader #f2 imagine #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut

[greg-montgomery]

Please just the team telling r about HOW MUCH OF A SOFT SPOT AARON HAS FOR THEM like god he’s literally such a grouch to Morgan and prentiss but he kisses the ground you walk on and they’re like BESTIE GET A GRIP HES WRAPPED AROJND YOUR FINGER bc reader is convinced he doesn’t share their feelings and he’s just being polite </3

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Guys, please stop. You’re giving me false hope,” you sighed, dropping your hands on your lap. “I know you’re only trying to make me feel better, but honestly this is making me feel worse.”

“False hope? Sweetheart, the man is in love with you,” Derek said.

“No, he’s not.” You pouted.

You regretted ever telling your friends about your crush on Hotch. What you expected was them making fun of you for it. What you got were daily lectures on how your boss had the hots for you.

“He makes you coffee every single morning,” Emily pointed out.

“He’s just being polite!” you argued.

“We arrive here at the same time every day and he has never made one for me.”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this,” you said. “Maybe he thinks you won’t like it the way he makes it. But he knows I do, so that’s why he only does it for me.”

“Okay…” Derek spoke again. His eyebrow was raised, showing he had a very good point to add. “What about when you got hurt last week? It was only a scratch on your cheek but Hotch was ready to drive you to a hospital.”

“Now you’re exaggerating!”

“I saw him cupping your cheeks, it’s true!” Emily exclaimed.

“I also saw that,” Spencer, who had just been observing the conversation, added.

“You too, Spence?”

“Sorry.” He lifted his hands up in defense. “I’m only pointing out what I saw.”

You crossed your arms against your chest. There was no way you’d let them get to you. If you let your heart believe that Aaron had feelings for you then it would break even harder. “He’s like this with all of us.”

Emily moved close to you and took your hand in hers. “No, he’s not,” she said with a smile. “How can you not see it? He looks at you like you’re his sun and stars.”

“We could have an experiment,” Spencer suggested.

“What kind of experiment?”

“Emily got yelled at yesterday for making a mistake during paperwork,” he explained. “I can see you’re preparing a similar report today so you could make on purpose the same mistake as her. Let’s see if he reacts the same way when he sees it. If he yells at you too then that means he treats you the same way he treats all of us. If he doesn’t…then you’re his soft spot.”

“Fine,” you agreed. “Only so you can all finally stop torturing me with this.”

A few hours later, your report was on Hotch’s desk.

“Y/N?”

You heard your name in that warm voice of his and lifted your head to look at him. He was standing at his office door with a smile, certainly not looking like a man about to start yelling.

“Can you please come to my office for a moment?”

“Of course.”

Walking up the stairs to his office, you could feel the stares of your colleagues. Time to prove them wrong, you thought. Even though, you were secretly praying for the opposite.

“What do you need me for?” you acted naive.

“I was just looking at your report,” he said, sitting down on his chair. “And-”

“Oh no, did I make a mistake?”

“No, it’s nothing important!” he rushed to reassure you. “It’s just some little thing. I only wanted to show you so you know the correct way to do it from now on.”

There was a sweet smile on his face. His voice was soft and not at all angry.

“Come on, let me show you.”

It didn’t feel scary to go close to him. So you did.

It was a bit hard to pay attention to him explaining your mistake, since you were staring at his fingers brushing the paper in front of you. It didn’t matter anyway, your mistake wasn’t an accident at all.

“Okay?” he asked when he was done.

“Okay. I’m really sorry, Hotch,” you said, giving him your best puppy eyes. If you were gonna do this experiment, you were gonna do it right. “I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“Why don’t you come to my office next time you prepare a report like this one? We can do it together, hm?”

“But you’re so busy, I don’t wanna slow you down,” you argued, your heart beating faster and faster as you realized that Aaron wasn’t angry at all with you.

“Nonsense. We’re doing it together next time.”

“Okay,” you said. “Thank you, Hotch.”

Just before you arrived at the door, you heard him calling your name. “Oh and Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you responded, looking back at him.

“The team is right.”

“Right on what?”

He smirked and dropped his gaze back to his papers. “You know what.”

You turned around to exit his office with a huge grin on your face. Sometimes it feels better when you lose.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #ask #hotch 🪐

[sayruq]

Here's more of what's been happening on the ground. (Once again I'm not an expert in war).

Palestinian fighters are still waging war on the state of Israel

It is clear that Hamas and other groups have access to anti aircraft weaponry and long range missiles, partly from looting Israeli bases but partly from (and this is unconfirmed) from the Russia-Ukraine war. It's not unexpected for weapons to end up smuggled into other countries during a war.

On the other hand, Israel went from swearing it would invade Gaza on the ground to doing just about anything but that

It's understandable why Israel would hesitate even with its 300,000 strong army

IDF is made up of mostly conscripted soldiers who normally act as civilians once they've served their 2.5 year mandatory conscription. Not only that, IDF acts more like a police force than an army. Its soldiers simply don't have the training or mentality to fight militia groups in their home turf.

America itself doubts its capabilities no matter how it words it. This is a country that has yet to win against a guerilla army so it has experience when it comes to this

Edit:

Edit 2: above Hamas states the obvious

In my previous post I highlighted how disorganised the Israel military was in response to Operation Flood Al Aqsa.

This hasn't changed in the days. Israel is behaving more like a cornered animal lashing out than the so called 'strongest army in the Middle East.'

It has been dropping bombs on Syria, Lebanon and Egypt aimlessly, more out of anger than calculated strategy

Its efforts to pushing back against the Palestinian militia isn't going well either

in addition to naked, barbaric cruelty towards Gaza because it is not producing results elsewhere

The tweet below is important as Russia is an Israeli ally. The Israeli right wing has been very favourable towards Putin, even willing to disagree with the US and EU policies on Russia. However Israel repeatedly bombing Syria is quickly souring Russia on the country. While Putin doesn't want to go against Israel at this point, he has become increasingly critical of the country in the past couple of days.

Saudi went from making a half-hearted 'both sides need to stop statements to cutting ties with Israel (ties Israel and America have worked very hard to form) to outrightly condemning Israel's treatment of the people of Gaza.

Naturally, with all of this happening, Israel has responded, not with ceasing the bombardment of Gaza, but by killing and assaulting journalists covering the genocide.

so that it could committ war crimes without it being documented and seen by the world. War crimes such as announcing that they'd bomb a hospital in Gaza and giving doctors and nurses just hours to evacuate their patients.

This, btw, is part of the reason they cut electricity so that Palestinians can't post their own genocide on social media. Israel brutality is costing them allies but they have no intention of stopping.

Despite all of this, there has been a great deal of support for Palestinians globally

In short, this war is not going the way Israel thought it would. They didn't crush Hamas and the other Palestinian military groups immediately after the battle of Re'im. In fact, they're still struggling against those groups right now. They've been humiliated in front of the world after being revealed to be paper tigers and as such, they're going after Palestinian civilians in increasingly horrific ways.

The Palestinian resistance is still optimistic and they're still carrying out their plan. There's still hope for a future without apartheid.

#palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #colonialism

[babypinkhearts]

know it’s for the better. - g. suguru

pairing: geto suguru + fem!reader, implied gojo satoru + fem!reader

summary: but butterflies cannot see their own beautiful wings, so he’ll gladly worship you quietly.

warnings: canon au, angst (please forgive me ily all), mentions of violence, vulgar language, crude humor, time-jumps, cameos from shoko, megumi, yuji, nobara :3 comfort.

word count: 16.8k

a/n: this fic has been my baby for a month, i’ve poured so much love into it. treat her well <333 loosely inspired by the songs “first love/late spring” by mitski and “waiting room” by phoebe bridgers. there are so many references to so many things in this :) some quotes that i will think about forever. hope you enjoy.

october, 2006.

“nine out of ten times.”

it’s the first sentence you say out loud after minutes of silence, and you’re given a puzzled look. it kinda makes you want to laugh, the confusion etched across his face so foreign that it’s rather intriguing. he’s golden, even under all the darkness. the world makes space for fallen angels.

“nine of ten times… what?”

you resist the urge to thumb that furrow in his brows, the creases looking wrong upon his soft features. you only smile, snuggling closer to him. either the room is magically colder, or suguru forgot to close the window. you give him the benefit of the doubt.

“that i would choose you.”

you’re slurring your words almost, but more from the plain laziness in your movements rather than from genuine exhaustion. suguru hums, fingers tapping along your arm. it may be around four in the morning, but you couldn’t sleep.

the both of you hadn’t been able to for a while.

not since riko, not since toji, and definitely not since the new scar trailing across your stomach. shoko hadn’t been able to make the repair seamless.

you didn’t really mind. a lot of things seemed pointless nowadays.

“and the other time?”

your eyes linger on the strand of hair that always falls imperfectly on his face. a little crack in his flawlessness, though you’re not sure how grand that observation actually is.

you sit up a bit, propping your head with your arm as you look down at his pretty brown eyes. narrow, as they currently are, but still evidently alluring.

“well, i think it’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” you reason, voice soft. sometimes the dependency you had with suguru worried you. waves can crash, but the water itself remains. you think you’ll always be bound to him. his, forever. and yet you say, “i’d choose myself. just for a bit of sanity.”

it’s meant to be lighthearted, but the silence that falls afterwards kills any tone of playfulness that statement might have held.

you wish you had been a little more greedy.

•••

september, 2007.

emotions were complicated things.

it’s complicated to process the bullet you watch fly through a child’s head. it’s complicated to process your near-death experience. it’s complicated to process process the news of your classmate’s death. it’s complicated to process how it’s expected for you to go back to normal. it’s complicated to process everything.

so you curl up further, and hope that the news you’re hearing now is only a nightmare. because again, it’s too complicated to process.

“he killed them.”

and with the way satoru says it, repeats it, you think he wants you to sit up and hug him. be vulnerable, because god knows it’s been so long since you have.

but you lay there, back in the bed that you used to sometimes share with the criminal. the stillness makes satoru’s stomach drop, and he can’t will himself to say it again just for the chance of getting a reaction from you. but how much pain can a heart take? because it felt like yours might give out at any moment.

you didn’t sign up for this.

naively, no, you didn’t sign up for this.

“how many?”

you’re not sure why you ask. any number would have you spiraling, but with the silent refusal satoru gives by not replying immediately, you’re sure the answer would kill you alone.

he knows. he knows the exact number, he’d seen the report.

but he stares at your desolate form, eyes scanning the mess in your room. or, lack of. he hardly saw you get get out of bed these days if it weren’t for missions. the only sign of movement from you were the plushies that used to adorn your bed, now sprawled on the floor. for a second, he wonders if they’re gifted from who he thinks they’re from. but that thought feels stupid the moment he thinks of it, because - yes. of course they were. that man had loved you like his lungs naturally loved air. he loved freely, graceful in the way he cared. about satoru, about you. anyone, really.

so saturo makes a decision, hoping that it alleviates a little bit of the ache that he now concludes he will attempt to shield you from. because he cares about you too much to see you succumb to your own internal wounds. he wants you to be strong, like him. like suguru was. he can’t lose you too.

“i don’t know.” satoru lies, and he hopes that sentence can at least ease your heartbreak. but he feels it just as much. sorrowful, the kind of pain he’s been too familar with for a while now. he frowns when you don’t move.

obstruct from his view, your hands grip your sheets as tight as humanly possible, and you’re sure that you break skin through the fabric. you want to cry, but you can’t. not in front of satoru. not while he’s right there.

because this doesn’t affect you. you didn’t care.

so what? suguru had left you to the wolves. to fend for yourself. he became a monster. it didn’t bother you.

and you try to convince yourself to think the same when satoru sits beside you. you’re still thinking it as his shaking hand places itself on your side.

but you give up when he lays beside you, feeling his grief. and that pain only cements itself further as you begin to quietly sob months worth of misery.

you don’t feel much better after.

•••

march, 2008.

nine out of ten times, you’d like to be given the option to wipe your memory.

the other time would be the ability to travel to the past. it’s hard to decide which could be better, or arguably worse. maybe you could save haibara - tag along on that stupid mission and fight that stupid curse. switch places with him, even. the world seemed a lot duller without him in it. nanami spoke even less than he did before. you couldn’t keep up a conversation with him.

was it irrational to think that you might have been able to kill toji too? he just caught you on an off-day. you’re the reason he killed riko. it’s your fault that a child is dead.

there’s so much to be sad about, you’ve started to confuse those ugly feelings with plain normality. it’s natural to feel like this. you can’t really remember better days. they’ve blurred, causing twisted retroactive interference.

your rock had fled. any form of stability you had crumbled with the weight of your sorrow, and you’re forced to miserably pick yourself back up because you’ve never really been used to being alone. satoru wasn’t really around anymore, and shoko never left her studies. you certainly weren’t abandoned, but, unfortunately, you understood that grief couldn’t just halt time forever.

you’ve mourned so much, it feels silly to still have the same ache.

but how do you even move on? what’s the process like? because you’re almost certain you wouldn’t be able to survive it.

you’ve began to rid any remnants of him in your room; any proof of his existence. clothes, specifically, because they hold on to his scent, and you think if you stop for a moment to actually look at them you might break down again. you see memories in them. times where he’s worn the black t-shirts, or his white button-up. insignificant at first glance, but it’s your life you’re holding on to.

you stuff them into bags as quickly as you can.

if he’s not here, he can’t hurt you.

at least, not anymore than he already had.

you think it’s cruel that you’re stuck with a person’s presence even if they’re not physically there anymore. you’ll always associate this room with him. the world, at that.

and maybe it’s childish that your first response (after the sulking) is to trash his belongings, but you can’t think of anything more rational to do. the universe will move on without him. you can’t be left behind too.

when you’re finished, you’re not sure if the sight of five large trash bags and an emptier room makes you want to sob or hit something. it’s like life has lost it’s color - a new vision, duller than what was deemed humane. torturous.

yet you can’t bring yourself to pick them up and take them out of the room. you’re idle, staring at them like they’re just meant to disappear. you hadn’t realized how much your room consisted of just him.

trash, is what you’re unintentionally calling everything in them. but you don’t think that, never in a million years.

if it were up to you, you’d keep everything exactly where it was, and obliviously continue a cheery facade. but the thing about awareness is that after it’s discovered, you can’t really leave it. it’s branded into your mind, poking at your brain with a stick because it will annoyingly never have the intention to leave you alone.

it’ll sit with you in your darkest hours, and you’re unable to predict when light will shine through.

“dump them.”

you jump, defenses high on alert as you instinctively fall back. almost immediately after, you drop your hands, sighing.

shoko is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. you’re about to ask her how long she’s been standing there for, but her lingering gaze on your conflicting pile of issues answers your question before you have the chance to.

“i’ll do it for you.” she offers, finally looking up to meet your eyes. they’re a little sunken in, and she looks restless. it’s the first time you’ve seen her in nearly two weeks. she’s ditched the short hair since a few months back, the length sitting comfortably at her chest now.

you dumbly stare, non-respondent on purpose. you don’t want her to do that.

she seems to recognize the discomfort on your face at her suggestion, and you watch as her brows bitterly furrow, a small glare now directed at the bags. but you don’t get much emotion other than that.

“you can’t cling on to this shit. it’s unhealthy.” she softly explains, shaking her head. you wonder if that’s her medical opinion or genuine concern speaking, but you don’t ask her to elaborate. instead, you turn around, taking a seat at the edge of your bed.

you kind of want her to leave.

“what’s healthy, then?” you retort, shrugging. it sounded a bit hypocritical coming from her. shoko had barricaded herself for the past six months, not even offering an ounce of genuine sympathy. in reality, you know it’s because she’s naturally avoidant. she didn’t crave support like you did. she didn’t need it like you had. because shoko has always been independent, never strung up on people. and you envy that more than anything.

“i don’t know.” she answers honestly, pursing her lips. but with one look around your room, and she’s certain it wasn’t this.

hesitantly, lets herself inside, eyes scanning the bareness. if it were any other day, she’d see suguru at your desk, or on your bed. he’d wave, and you would greet her with open arms. everyone knew the two of you were nearly inseparable (if it weren’t for satoru). the room always had a pleasant atmosphere when the two of you were in it. it feels cold and grim now, though. shoko has to fight a shiver.

you observe her, waiting for a joke or two. you’re nearly hoping, because any form of comedic relief had begun to be your craving. you needed an escape from all of this.

but instead, she turns back to you and wordlessly sits beside your tense form. it’s quiet for a bit.

there’s a charm that shines on the top of your desk, catching her eye. it dangles among other souvenirs, and shoko has to avert her eyes when she realizes that they’re all gifts from a certain deceased underclassman.

everything about this room feels like a graveyard.

“satoru comes back today.” shoko suddenly says, letting the first thing she can think of be verbalized. her eyes stay on the wooden floor this time. “he’s been in kyoto for a couple of days.”

you hum, nodding. you didn’t know.

if shoko kept her distance, then it was like satoru had completely faded. you couldn’t even remember the last time he had texted you.

then again, you weren’t sure if you’d even respond.

“i was thinking we could eat dinner together… when he gets back.”

your head perks up. barely.

that sounded familiar. mostly because it had been a routine up until recently. never verbally established, but it was natural for you and shoko to be accompanied by two towering sorcerers as you ate whatever satoru had decided on for the day. he was a picky eater. there’s a bitter taste on your tongue as you realize you’d be missing a member now.

“we can.” you nod, awkwardly kicking your feet back and forth. silence again.

you can feel shoko’s annoyance. how she’s trying to get you to talk, but you’re stupidly stubborn and refuse to. however, she knows you a little too well, and plays the waiting game. because she knows you’re weak when it comes to your heart, and weaker when it comes to the people you love. her included.

it’s not a relief when you finally break. if anything, it’s painful to hear, to watch. and though it’s only one question, it’s so complicated that it feels like you’ve asked her how the universe itself was created. simultaneously, it’s equally as simplistic.

it doesn’t even sound sad. it’s hollow, void of any distinct emotion. you’re staring at the wall.

“shoko…” you don’t pay attention to how she stills and watches you intently. you’re oblivious to the frown on her face, how she leans in just a little closer. and the widening of her eyes as you finish speaking. “how are you… okay?”

you feel particularly pathetic. shoko was so strong. satoru was the strongest. and yet here you were, more fragile than ever. on an alter, you’re a mere viewer from below. simply watching perched gods, basking in all their glory. the difference always evident, never comparable.

and yet shoko stares for a little, dumbfounded.

no, absolutely no one was ‘okay.’ the world was crumbling in front of everyone’s eyes. but you’ve always been a reminiscent person, she supposes. you search for familiarity. it’s harder for you to let go.

“did i tell you that?” she asks, more rhetorically than anything. there’s a teasing tone that her voice holds, but it does little to rid the tension of your question. you slowly shake your head.

“then how do you know that’s true?”

you shrug, fiddling with your fingers. “i don’t know.”

you want to tell her that your thoughts are purely based on toxic comparisons to yourself, but the air feels a little thick already, so you don’t.

“c’mere.”

there is no protest made when she wraps her arms around you, and forces you to fall into your bed with her. the pillows under your heads dip, and you’re enveloped in the softness of your blankets. shoko’s warm, and if you closed your eyes you might mistaken her hold to be like a mother’s affection. evident adoration, just by the touch. you’re derived and soak it up as much as you can, leaning into her.

it reminds you of late nights where you’d have sleepovers and gossip until the sun came up. too tired to train the next day, yaga ordering laps regardless of your visible fatigue. and you’d run with gleeful smiles, energy lifting as you were side-by-side again. an unexplainable friendship one could never truly describe with words, just pure thoughts. it’s sickeningly nostalgic, because you think about the fact that it really had not been that long ago. how quickly things change.

shoko nuzzles her face into your hair affectionately and sighs. she squeezes you tightly. declarative - ‘i’m right here.’ never enough to make up for the lost time and avoidance, but enough for now. because shoko didn’t act like this normally, and for you to see her in such a state meant more than just any regular apology.

“i think you know how to love better than any of us.” she admits, and that sentence alone has you curling a little more into her, your chest suddenly feeling tight. she leans in, and her lips form into a sorrowful smile as she observes you. full of pure understanding. again, a connection that could not be made with words. it feels a little spiritual. she brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face. “that’s why you find it all so painful.”

hesitantly, you offer a sad smile, her words all bittersweet. it makes you laugh a little distastefully, the reality of them hitting you at once. “well, that’s not fair.”

“it’s not.” shoko agrees, nodding. “but it’s a lovely thing.”

you make a face. recently, it’s only brought you suffering. the good bits don’t seem as worth it - as ‘lovely’ as she describes.

you pause, contemplating for a little. and your voice is affirmative, like you’ve never been more sure in your life. you kinda sound like a naive child.

“i don’t want it. take my feelings. i don’t like them.”

it’s true. it’s the biggest truth you’ve ever told with the biggest sincerity. and you know it’s not possible, that you’re stuck like this forever. a soft, easygoing heart that beats for everyone around it. your words make shoko snort - a real genuine laugh. you giggle through watery eyes.

“the world sucks.”

this time, it is a pitying smile that shoko gives you. lop-sided, and hesitant. she feels bad.

her arms leave you, and she opts to instead lay facing you, faces mere inches from one another. you’re both laying on your cheeks, against folded hands. shoko taps your nose.

“you know what i think?”

you hum, sniffing a little as you try to focus on the small amount freckles across her face instead of the overwhelming urge to let some tears fall. it works, for the most part. you count twenty.

“i think the world gives strong feelings to strong people.”

you smile at that.

shoko was something else.

“i’m pretty fucking strong then, aren’t i?” you mumble, tired eyes blinking as you sigh. shoko’s eyes crinkle as she returns the fondness, a hand resting on your cheek.

“definitely.”

and you can only hope she’s right.

there’s nothing that interrupts those sweet moments of tranquillity. where you can act like everything is just a little better, because in all honesty, it was. shoko’s good at making you feel like that.

if you really thought hard enough, this could be just another regular day. you want it to be.

you feel shoko’s finger poke your chest, and she gives you a pointed look. it’s like she could read your mind - subconsciously, as if she had the ability of a third eye.

“it gets easier. every day it gets a little easier. but you gotta do it every day — that’s the hard part.”

she leaves it at that.

you lay together, appreciating each other’s mere presence. and it feels nice. support, like you craved, but words even more. you aren’t able to formulate how much you adore her, but actions speak louder than words, so you shuffle just a tiny bit closer.

you’re not sure how much time passes by.

when shoko stands up, she rids you of her warmth, leaving the cocoon of wonder and comfort she’d so gracefully created for you. yet you feel fine, that isolating shiver now replaced with content. you think you feel a little lighter too.

“be outside by seven. if it’s up to me, we’ll all get sushi. no promises though.”

she’s back to being more standoffish, but still your same shoko. you nod appreciatively, the thankfulness worth the weight of a million tons. your eyes follow her as she walks across the room.

the door shuts, and you’re left alone again.

you can feel your heart beat a little faster, the realization of your commitment to the later plans finally dawning upon you. it would be the first real reunion since then. maybe a chance to talk things out. be levelheaded, get some communal closure.

or, maybe you’d be able to ignore the past and focus on the present. just act like friends eating lunch. because that’s all it was, wasn’t it?

begrudgingly, you force yourself to stand, too aware of the fact that your habits of wasting time in bed have far exceeded a reasonable amount over the past few months. it was time to get better, be better.

your hands grab the first bag.

it’s heavy, as you imagine all the other ones are. but you suppose if you don’t think about what’s in them, it’ll make the process a lot smoother.

you’re nearing the door when you stop.

it’s a small paper, it’s yellow exterior almost blending in with the sunlight escaping through the windows. you inch closer.

and it’s pathetic that the sight of his handwriting on a sticky-note makes you lose your breath. shameful, because how are inanimate objects this damaging?

it’s hung above your desk. by haibara’s gifts, and by notebooks you never really used in this academically-lackluster school.

you stare at it for a while, hand resting over your forehead as you take in every minuscule detail. you let go of the bag.

it’s the last note suguru had ever left you, made a few weeks before his disappearance. before everything went downhill. little poetic phrases that would embed themselves in your mind until death. you’re afraid to look.

it’s neatly written, displayed in purple ink. doodles of clouds and flowers surround the words. he had a habit of leaving them around. you suppose you never caught this one.

there’s a little heart next to his signature, encapsulating just a memory of lost devotion.

‘how strange to dream of you, even when i am awake.’

your hand crumbles the note in a second.

the paper is evidently weak, and when you open your hand back up, the words are still clearly there, haunting you. and you know you don’t have the heart to throw it away. or, realistically - throw anything away.

you fold the note gently, and leave it on your desk. your body yearns to leave, to escape the suffocation of what suddenly felt like walls that were caving in. you slam the door on your way out, bags and all left behind.

you’d definitely prefer to wipe your memory.

•••

april, 2005.

“you’re so annoying.”

satoru grins, standing proudly as you repeatedly attempt to hit him on the head, your touch stopped by his infinity. he’d only recently learned how to control it decently - claiming that he needed to because you had a bad habit of using him as your punching bag.

“you know what though? this is a good thing.” you muse, arms crossing as you finally give up. satoru’s head tilts, and you raise a brow. “no one wants to touch you anyways.”

there’s a dramatic pout that immediately finds itself on his face, and he whines from instinct, letting his guard down for a moment to shove you. you slap his arm before he has a chance to react.

“she’s right.” suguru nods affirmatively, earning a gasp from the white-haired male, and suddenly, suguru is being shoved too. you giggle, briefly making eye contact with him. it’s a little too quick for your preference, but the stolen glance has you holding your breath for a moment.

it’s exhilarating.

suguru is beautiful in a way that is hard to describe. but it’s not from a loss of words; you can speak endlessly about him. he’s everything a person could dream of and more. but it’s little gestures that truly draw you to him. how it seems like he always lingers, attentive and patient no matter what boulders you seem to throw at him. he’ll carry that weight on his shoulders easily, and with the most effortless smile. it’s a gentleness that you weren’t even sure was possible before you met him. he defies all expectations, all normalities.

“oh, i forgot to ask-“ satoru turns to you, raising his brows. sometimes his glasses bothered you. his eyes were freakish, yes, but you also had a conflicting urge to always look at them. “how’d your mission go yesterday?”

you cringe, involuntarily stiffening as you replay the events in your head.

“stupid semi-first grade. i let my guard down for a second and it almost clawed me.” you sighed, rolling your eyes. you fail to notice suguru’s eyes widen. “but we exorcised it right after. i swear i saw nanami shit himself.”

there’s a stark difference in reactions from both boys. while satoru snickers, suguru stays quiet. white and black.

“glad you’re still with us.” satoru beams, ruffling your hair before you have a chance to swat his hand away. “right, suguru?”

all attention flocks towards him, and you and satoru patiently await his response. he’s looking off to the side.

he feels a little childish.

there’s an uncomfortable pit in suguru’s stomach that he can’t shake off, and he swallows thickly, nodding with a dismissive cough. “yeah, glad it went well.”

obliviously, you flash him a thankful smile.

it makes him feel the tiniest bit better.

he wished yaga would pair you two together, or even put you with satoru. an actual backup - not someone below your skill level. haibara and nanami weren’t comparable; they were still new to jujustu. younger, less experienced. he holds a little resentment towards your abilities, and while he knows you’re never sent on missions that are tougher than you can handle, he always has an inkling of worry that lingers uncomfortably. he hates not being around you - not knowing if you’re okay. and he knows you’re a reckless fighter. you brush off the mention of critical injuries and move on, completely unbothered. the burden of stress came so easily when he was around you and satoru.

“you have another one tomorrow, right?”

you hum, nodding as you fiddle with the end of your uniform, sighing softly. “it’s across town i think. not sure who’s coming with me yet - maybe it’ll be shoko if i beg hard enough.”

suguru has to fight a wince. also not an ideal companion. shoko didn’t specialize in combat.

she’d only be actual help if you were wounded, and -

“why not me or satoru?”

he speaks before he thinks, and iternally, he punches himself in the face. he can see satoru stop moving in his peripheral vision. he thinks he sees a smirk. coy, but no words come out.

scoffing, you deadpan. “where’s the practice in that? you guys will kill it before i even get a chance to see it.”

and that’s true, because it’s happened dozens of times before. show-offs.

“we can get kikufuku after!” satoru exclaims, completely disregarding you as you begin to protest rather loudly. “i’ve been craving it. i haven’t had it since last week!”

“wait longer.” you sneer, glaring at him. “i rather go alone.”

now that, suguru would verbally be clearly against, without any hint of shame.

“boo.” satoru deflates, rolling his eyes at you. “that won’t even happen.”

it wouldn’t. you hadn’t earned that trust yet - the absolute certainty that you’d survive if you did a mission alone.

suguru’s glad.

“not yet.” you chirp, and the hopeful smile on your face doesn’t help anything. “but soon enough.”

there’s that unwavering aura you always hold that makes suguru feel a little sick. it’s determination, stubbornness, that follows you and keeps you whole. when you talk like that, words void of any doubt, he knows you mean it. and you’ll accomplish it, because your will for achievement is stronger than your rationality.

but he has you now, right in front of him, so he’ll ease himself of the worry. for now.

“in a million years.” satoru remarks, sticking his tongue out at you, not even bothering to look your way as you hold up a rather unpleasant finger in his direction. playful banter was regular between you two; you fed off of each other’s energy. suguru seemed to be the mediator.

an observer, with eyes particularly always lingering on one certain person.

•••

spring has flowers blossoming again, and you feel inclined to stay out for as long as possible. the confinements of your dorm feels like an obstacle, and it’d be a waste to miss out on the beauty that winter’s absence welcomed.

it’s perfect weather.

the cursed weapon in your hand had begun to feel rather light, your arm adapting to the overpowering weight. you disliked close-range combat, but you were being sent on tougher missions now, so there was no room for complaints. your abilities needed to strengthen.

and it’s frustrating, really. to have to constantly forgo complete confidence and figure out where you’re weakest; you could easily make a list with areas of needed improvement. a lot of your classmates seemed to lack that issue. you suppose what’s worse is that you’re completely aware it wasn’t a competition - but you had convinced yourself that at the least, you needed to stay on their level.

even if that meant working ten times harder, even if that meant exerting yourself past a reasonable amount.

but this routine has gotten you this far, and, sincerely, it hadn’t been too much of a problem to keep up with.

in fact, you could probably do a little more.

“you shouldn’t train so much, you’ll strain yourself.”

your stance falters, though you easily recover within the same second. maybe a little too late, but you tried not to be nit-picky. he was naturally quiet.

“i gotta keep up with everyone somehow.” you quickly grin, trying to calm the visible pants of your labored breathing. it’s futile, and you momentarily turn away, as if embarrassed to look anything but perfectly composed. to look less than him - or anyone, really.

your back is towards him.

suguru can read you perfectly. it’s with ease that’s almost completely overbearing, and some part of him believes that he’s only been put on earth to watch out for you. like it knows that you aren’t the kindest when it comes to yourself.

it’s so natural that he supposes it might be his true purpose.

you only hear him hum from behind you, and suddenly there’s a weight pushing down on your raised weapon, ushering it towards the floor. gentle fingers graze against yours, and you let him grab it from you, albeit with some hesitation. he places it on the floor.

“let’s take a break, yeah?”

he doesn’t even need to coerce you, you’d follow him blindly if he asked. you always do.

and he’s leading you, knowing you’re behind him without having the urge to look back and check. exhaustion lingers, but you’re too entranced by him to focus on the sore ache of your limbs. he’s graceful as he walks.

“we trained this morning.”

you freeze momentarily, looking off to the side with a shrug. it’s not that he sounds hostile - it’s just a bit more monotone than normal. “practice makes perfect.”

suguru makes a noise of acknowledgment, but it sounds a bit absentminded and dull, lacking any understanding. like a huff of annoyance.

“right.”

he shouldn’t be this bitter, this cold, when speaking to you. it’s rough against his tongue, and his entire body, mind and all, is actively telling him to stop. emotions are ugly things, though. it makes people less rational; less aware - say things they may regret.

suguru slows his steps, up until you’re beside him, where you should be. and by a glance at you, he knows he’s gotten too uncharacteristically rigid. you’re looking at him, confusion clouding your head. concern, actually. he sees it now.

“did i do something wrong?”

the meekness in your voice, haunted with worry, clears his senses in a millisecond. his eyes widen. panicked, he feverishly shakes his head.

“no — no. of course not.”

he sees you relax a bit, but you’re still looking questionably at him. your head tilts. “then?”

suguru sighs, swallowing thickly as he stops walking. it’s an enchanting sight, grassy fields just a little off main campus. you see a few flowers.

you follow after him as he sits, greenery cushioning your bodies as you settle. suguru picks at the weeds, his eyes on the floor. he speaks quiet, voice among the gentle breeze as his hair flows in waves. you have the urge to remove his hair-tie and see it fully.

“i just worry about you.”

you don’t even attempt to hide the slight flustered smile that finds itself on your face, body feeling overwhelmingly warm. he’s avoiding eye contact for once. l

it’d be a lie if you claimed you didn’t notice the tension - the smiles, the laughs, the soft-spoken volume of his pure voice. so silky smooth it’d rid you of all your worries in a second. but there’s something so alluring about never saying it out loud. like it’s your little secret the two of you can keep, because adoration itself is something so beautiful it needed to be dragged out for as long as possible. you’ve grown to be a little impatient, though.

you nudge him teasingly.

“don’t. i’m right here.”

and it’s true; suguru sees it as a privilege. to be around your presence, to just talk to you — he worships the ground you walk on, and he’s not sure how to tell you that might be the reason why he worries so much.

instead, he chuckles, head bowing momentarily.

“i wish it were that easy.”

you bring your knees to your chest, giggling lightly.

he’s cute.

undeniably.

“it is.” you urge, dragging out the last syllable as you sway towards him. he meets your eyes. “just trust me like i trust you.”

suguru thinks that you’re sometimes oblivious to the weight of your words. they can be so intimate, and you’ll deliver them like any other sentence. as if you hadn’t just made his stomach churn, and his heart beat a little faster. he trusts you more than a healthy amount. he’d trust you with his life, his future — he’d leave everything in the palms of your hands.

“i do.” he replies, reassuringly. it’s earnest, and you smile. suguru bites the inside of his cheek, and closes his eyes. “it’s everything else that scares me.”

and there’s really nothing you can really do to help that fear, because you know it’s completely reasonable and realistic. tomorrow is never promised, especially with the hectic lives you live. you want to tell him that you have similar thoughts when he and satoru are out for days at a time, no return window strictly placed. that it has you pacing back and forth until their arrival, and even then you downplay your relief. but that’s a little embarrassing to say when he’s listening so intently, so you keep quiet.

you turn to him, shrugging with a smile you pray looks more optimistic than sorrowful.

“we can only ever hope for the best.”

a little hollow, less declarative than preferred, but it works the same. suguru nods in silent agreement.

suguru used to think that exceptional beasts like you and him could not fall in love — that it was the secret of ordinary people. for beings, who can alter the world, were special in indescribable ways. but he’s grown to be more open-minded, more accepting.

because what else could he do? you were so irresistible that it ceased the existence of his birth-given psychology. his mind, altered just for you.

“you know… you don’t have to prove yourself of anything.”

this time, it’s suguru who nudges you. he leans in, and you feel his hair brush against your arm. it tickles, but you don’t flinch. your body naturally welcomes the proximity, tingles and goosebumps etching across your skin. you squint, waiting for him to elaborate. and he does, with one validating sentence that kinda erases the possibility of self-doubt. just for a bit.

“i think you’re strong.”

he’d move stars for you, talk to the moon if it meant you got to keep the shimmer in your pretty eyes. and he’d ask the sun to stay out longer so he could continue seeing your rosy cheeks.

he’d gladly live for infinity if he could be the reason you get flustered forever.

you’re very pretty like this.

his eyes are watchful, observant as you scoff bashfully, avoiding him. and you quietly respond, with that same soothing voice. he thinks it could be a lullaby.

“i think you’re strong too.”

suguru smiles, nodding and all-knowing. he pokes you playfully.

“i know.”

you’d complain, but his tone lacks any arrogance. just a statement, enough said. because he knows how you think, how you observe.

and while you don’t say it out loud, your eyes are telling him ‘thank you.’

how beautiful the act of reading an expression is. of knowing a person so easily it’s like clockwork, unraveling intricate details to form a conscious understanding.

he watches your eyes narrow, and awaits a question he knows is on the tip of your tongue. your face looks a certain way during contemplation.

“you like doing this stuff?” you ask, tilting your head. “being a sorcerer, i mean.”

as if the two of you had other options. you didn’t.

but there’s something comforting about answering known questions. speaking the obvious into existence, letting the information linger in the air.

“i like it.” suguru replies, smiling. “if you get rid of the bad stuff.”

his voice gets quieter at the end, but you save him the questioning glance and smile back.

you hum, nodding. “like what?”

and you can name a million bad things. every day is a reminder of them. the two of you have that in common. but thankfully, the world has been kind enough to not let you experience them. your optimism hadn’t been tainted.

and as you expressed to him — you try not to dwell over the ticking clock, only ever hoping for the best.

suguru’s hands are behind him, propping himself up as he gazes at sheer, distant clouds. the sky is a pretty mix of yellow, orange, and red. evening approaches.

“well, all that self-sacrificing stuff for the betterment of mankind — for starters.” he sighs, head leaning back. you wonder if you imagine the way the slight slivers of sun sparkle against his skin, and how angelic his aura seems in that very moment.

you scoot a little closer, gaze matching his as you look upwards.

“we’re helping so many people, though.” you reply, glancing at him for a second. his eyes are closed, like a cat basking in the warmth of the light. you want to kiss his cheek.

“we are.”

“i think it’s cool.”

“it is cool.” he affirms, nodding. one eye opens, and he shamelessly stares as you obliviously observe the world. suguru is suddenly grateful that this view is currently only reserved for him, as he’s sure anyone would fall in love with you in this exact moment. yet, at the least, he wants you to see yourself in his neutral vision.

but butterflies cannot see their own beautiful wings, so he’ll gladly worship you quietly.

he looks at your hand on the grass, right beside his. it’s contemplation that’s been built up for months, thoughts of you invading all his senses. suguru figures that if he had a flower for every time he’s thought of you, he could walk through a garden forever. he inches his fingers closer.

and pauses when they’re less than a centimeter away, pulling back as you break the silence.

“i mean, i’d die for you guys too.”

suguru tenses, and you grow nervously quiet from the sight of his surprised expression, feeling suddenly embarrassed. an awkward laugh leaves your lips in an attempt to ease the gloom of your words, and you mindlessly wave your hand. “if it came down to it, y’know.”

you would in a heartbeat. you’d do it a thousand times over if you could, but you don’t tell him that. that proclamation is reserved for only you.

and as suguru looks over at you, stares, he doesn’t think he’ll ever despise an idea more than he does now. it’s blazing, the thought horrendous.

“don’t say stuff like that.” he demands, shaking his head brazenly. you can feel his eyes still on you, and he’s lost his smile. “don’t ever.”

all the defense, the stoicism, stemming from the thought that — yes. he 100% believed you would die for anyone. and that terrified him more than anything.

suguru isn’t sure how to communicate his thoughts in a softer way. he doesn’t mean for his demeanor to grow so cold again, but it bothers him - makes him sick - that you can say things like that so easily.

“i didn’t — i’m sorry.” you stutter, eyes wide. you swallow thickly, “sorry.”

and again, it’s hard to be upset with you.

but this, he can be against. he needs to be.

“you can’t think like that.” suguru speaks, softer this time. it’s pleading, as if he’s begging for a bit of mercy. and he is. “please.”

he wants to tell you that it’s okay to be selfish, to prioritize yourself first. but it would seem a bit hypocritical coming from him, because he knows he’d throw everything away in a whim if it meant keeping you safe.

love blinds him, he supposes.

“okay.” you nod, eyes on the floor. “i won’t.”

you’re considerate enough to lie, despite knowing full well that your words don’t align with your mind whatsoever. and you think suguru knows that.

he’s staring. you can feel it, eyes as intense as a midnight sky. you feel a little afraid to look up and meet them.

but it’s only instinct when he speaks your name softly, a coaxing whisper among suffocating tension.

you think he looks ethereal when being clouded with concern. godly, towering upon you. the magnitude of his gaze truly shows with the lack of distance. you register the feeling of his hand on yours before anything else, the touch searing from pure shock. a large palm covers your skin.

“… i’m sorry. i just care about you a lot.”

worry is care. it’s one of the greatest devotions — the act of panic for another person.

suguru thinks that romance may actually be the most horrific thing in life. that it’s not curses, but love. it’s the deepest weakness.

“you kill me when you get injured — when you speak like that.” he mutters, and the two of you don’t say a thing as his hand inches higher.

it feels a little harder to breathe.

“can’t promise i’ll stop.” you reply, a pitying smile finding it’s way on your face as you watch him close his eyes briefly.

“i know.”

suguru feels a little like a broken record player, doomed to repeat the same phrases like it’s clockwork.

it’s futile, you’re mutually aware.

he can’t control you, he’s unable to dictate what decisions you make — no matter how stupid, or how horrid they are to him. but he can’t bring himself to stop trying. maybe, if you’re reminded your value, you’ll eventually think the same.

but, honestly, the way you’re looking at him right now could make him believe anything.

“did you find out who’s joining you tomorrow on your mission?”

the corner of your mouth quirks upwards, and he knows your answer before you say it out loud. he grins.

your other hand places itself on top of his, and you smile back. heart giddy, but you try your best to keep your composure.

“i pulled a few strings.”

•••

december, 2015.

you wonder if growing up not only changes your body, but your soul.

because it takes a long time to realize how truly miserable you are, and even longer to see that it doesn’t have to be that way.

it’d be kinda hard to feel your unhappiness now, regardless.

“i prefer if you keep them outside, megs.” you wince, eyeing the dirt-covered paw prints on the hardwood floor.

the two perpetrators stand on either side of their summoner.

flushed and clearly embarrassed, megumi curtly nods. his hair moves the slightest with the movement, and he turns his head away from you, kicking his foot back and forth. “sorry, i wasn’t thinking.”

the dogs leave your eyesight quickly after. you snort, playfully rolling your eyes at him, walking over to ruffle the dark spikes on his head.

“it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” you smile, silently pleased when he doesn’t move away from the ministration. he’s always been more lenient with you, a fact you hold high over a certain white-haired sorcerer. “plus, i’ll just make satoru clean it up.”

if you had blinked, you might had missed the way megumi’s mouth quirks up, satisfaction clear as day. it makes you giggle, up until you finally inspect him closer. your eyes linger on the dirt covering the side of his white shirt, and you softly sigh, pursing your lips.

“how was the curse?” you ask, nudging him a little where the stains are most prominent. “roughed you up a bit, huh?”

megumi’s introduction to jujustu wasn’t entirely seamless, but he was definitely a natural. an anomaly, like satoru. born with talent.

you watch as his face turns sour, and his eyes suddenly narrow, the stoic expression more familiar. he avoids your gaze and looks at the door expectantly, mumbling something under his breath.

“what?” you reply, brows furrowing as you lean a little closer in hopes he’ll repeat himself. megumi’s mouth opens again, and he’s about to, but an obnoxious ‘i’m backkkk!’ interrupts him.

you share an unimpressed look with the younger boy.

satoru strides inside, whistling with a grin. you’ve spent too much time with him, years ticking off your lifespan from both the annoyance and contentment that he simultaneously brings into the world. he and megumi had left early in the morning, and it was around midday now — too long with him, as you can clearly pinpoint on latter’s face.

satoru’s hands are in his pockets, and he shuts the door with his shoulder, leaning back against it.

“missed us?” he smiles, and he walks over to throw an arm around megumi, which is immediately thrown off. satoru glares momentarily, but quickly looks back up at you, clearing his throat. “missed me?”

you stare, sighing softly before gently tugging megumi towards you.

“i missed megumi.” you correct, crossing your arms. your head motions to him, “and why does it look like he got pushed on the floor? i thought you said-“

“it was a grade three!” satoru immediately exclaims, and points to the boy beside you in accusation. “he told me not to get involved.”

despite his adult frame, satoru never really outgrew his childishness, still quick to blame anyone other than himself. his defensiveness was mildly irritating, but you've come to grow used to it. your head shakes disapprovingly, and you huff. “he’s thirteen, you idiot.”

satoru’s smile turns a little mischievous as megumi looks at you quizzically, a frown on his face. “so?”

you rub your head in annoyance, ignoring satoru’s ‘oooo,’ and gently flick megumi on the forehead. “you’re not an official student yet. dealing with curses by yourself can wait. for now, you fight with satoru.”

satoru dramatically sighs, and much to your dismay, approaches you. his arm infamously wraps itself around your frame, body leaning towards you, and it feels like the weight of an elephant, crushing you as you stumble. he doesn’t let up. “you worry too much. and he exorcised it! maybe with a little less ease than expected, but-“

he grunts when a hand collides with his side, and you’re too busy pushing him off to see the way he sticks his tongue out at megumi.

maybe your concerns were a little irrational, but your heart was in the right place. megumi was still young, still enrolled in a normal middle school — albeit, close to his last year — and you had originally planned to keep him completely innocent for just a while longer. no world of killing, curses, and whatnot. but satoru had pushed him into it within the first few months of his complicated adoption, and you secretly knew that there was nothing you could do to completely shield that side of the ugly world for him.

so, you suppose the least you could do was teach him how to protect himself. in case you or satoru couldn’t.

“well,” you sigh, defeatedly. there’s a lopsided smile on your face, and you expectantly look to megumi. “how was it, then?”

there’s a boyish smile, a little shy, that appears on his face. “cool.”

“see!” satoru grins, arms raising in victory. “he loved it, and he should probably do it more often-“

“fine, fine.”

it’s always been pretty futile to argue with satoru. not only is he stubborn, but painstakingly arrogant. he tends to think his ideas are always the best, simply because they’re made in his very head. and you can’t discredit them, because normally, they’re alright. but it can be frustrating. he’s also really hard to deny.

it’s only natural to give in. just so you can avoid drawing it out.

“awesome! i think he’s ready for a special grade!” satoru claps his hands, and you deadpan, rolling your eyes.

“don’t kill my kid.” you mutter, shaking your head as you turn, ignoring the way satoru’s smile settles into something a little more genuine. heartfelt, maybe.

truth be told, you’d trust satoru with everything and more. you worry and fret, but at the end of the day, he’ll still be there. he’s been stuck to you like glue for years now, and it didn’t help that you practically live under the same roof. different rooms, but realistically having no actual space. it’s nice, and you really do hold him in your heart deeply. at an arm’s length.

you end up being stuck with cooking dinner yet again — satoru winning because otherwise he’d ’poison the kids’ (which, you think is stupid because he could easily just follow a recipe. also, he’s used that excuse before.) — and it’s like clockwork, a routine, when you find yourself sat across from him on the couch afterwards, tsumiki and megumi long gone in their respective rooms.

you’ve found that gojo satoru acts a bit differently when it’s just the two of you. less irritable, and easier to talk to; you’ve noticed this since you met him. his voice gets quieter, the blindfold comes off, his hair falls, and you’re presented with a more raw version. and maybe the kids get a different version too, but you find that hard to believe when megumi’s distaste is so palpably strong.

“movie?” satoru asks, peeking at you through narrow eyes. his face is a little smushed by his palm as he leans against the armrest, and there’s a lazy smile on his face. he looks kinda tired, weirdly enough. exhaustion is so foreign on his face that it looks almost fake. you wonder how much he slept last night, spotting hints of darkness beneath the pretty blue of his vision.

you think it’s strange that you don’t get sick of his presence, even after all this time. that’s it’s forever missed more than loathed. you’re always in such close proximity, practically doing everything together, and yet you find that crave him every second he’s not beside you. pitifully, it might just be the attachment issues you’ve subconsciously formed, and have unfortunately plagued satoru with. but that reason just seems a little too sad for you to fully admit. everything realistic is somehow bitter. you softly sigh, momentarily closing your eyes.

you’d love to stay, just to hear his idiotic rambles and comments. they always brought more substance than the film itself. and he’s been gone all day. you rub your forehead, feeling a small inkling of guilt.

“i have a mission later.” you reply, apologetically, and smile sincerely. “but when i come back, yes.”

an active report coming from a town over — information on paper only describing the energy as ‘ominous.’

“oh,” satoru’s eyes widen, and though you’re unable to read the exact emotion on his face, he seems a little alarmed. nearly wincing. he’s kinda upset that you didn’t tell him sooner, that being visibly clear — but then again, did you really have an obligation to? he didn’t really tell you whenever he had missions. but that was because he’d return in a few quick hours every time. satoru didn’t like being gone for too long either. he never dragged out his departures; he hated to leave you by yourself, even if the kids were with you. it feels a little cruel. you watch his eyes dart towards the windows, and he shifts, facing you. the movement is a little awkward, and he pauses before his speaks, hesitant with his words. “want me to go with you? it’s kind of late.”

it’s sweet that he asks.

“satoru,” you chuckle, tilting your head. “it’s a couple of second grades. i’ll be fine.”

a little white lie, but you craved some action. satoru always got stuck with the interesting missions, and even then they posed no such threat to him. all of your assignments were simple, too easy to be considered enjoyable. if this was going to be the route you were taking in life, — exorcising curses — then you could at least make it somewhat fun.

satoru can tell something’s off. you’re too dismissive, and you won’t look at him directly. but he feels as though it’s not his place to scold you, and he trusts you dearly, so he ignores his gut.

“alright.” he shrugs, his arms moving behind his head as they nonchalantly cross, contrasting the way he feels a little unusual. “call me if you need anything.”

•••

december brings cold winter air, and you blow into your palms, attempting to warm the skin that’s begun to grow a little numb.

more people should go on nightly walks, you think. maybe then it’d be more calming. every street you’ve turned to is nearly empty, the only comfort being provided by dim overhead lights. but you suppose you’ve gone through more fearsome events, so this shouldn’t really be that big of a deal.

it’s a little frustrating to be walking around so aimlessly. the report gave no specific location, just the brief mention of a couple of previous sightings. by now, they’d more-than-likely dispersed to other areas.

you’re slightly tempted to call satoru for some help, as you’ve never been the best at detecting curses at a long-range, but you refrain.

it was late, and you know he’d probably never let you live it down.

satoru would never say ‘no’ to you. but there comes a price with that reliability and expectancy. small instances, like when you caught a cold, and had asked him to order for you at a coffee shop because your voice had been to sore to do so. he complied, but not without a relentless amount of teasing, even going to far as to lie to the barista, saying ‘sorry, she’s just really shy.’ he lived for your embarrassment, and it was generally harmless, so you couldn't reprimand him for it.

but sometimes every time, he’d have his own small apology. like how right after you had returned home, there was soup coincidentally ordered on your front porch.

satoru had walked inside without looking at you.

he can be tolerable. rarely.

you're nearly persuaded to go back home, midnight beginning to take a toll on your tired eyes. as far as you were aware, the curses hadn't caused harmful havoc. but it'd be pretty humiliating to head back without a small victory, and even then you'd probably stay up feeling guilty.

unintelligible whispers break you out of your thoughts, and you blink, eyes scanning the area.

goosebumps arise, and your head turns.

finally.

you nearly jump when you see it, though keep your composure, standing straighter.

it’s hardly detectable, as it stands. fairly large too. it might actually be a second grade.

you huff, brows furrowing as you inspect the curse. this was the cause of the ‘ominous’ energy? you feel it, but it’s looks don’t work well with it’s written description. maybe you’d be heading home sooner than you expected.

your hand reaches behind you to grab your weapon, and you move forward, testing to see how fast it’s reflexes are.

it doesn’t move.

you pause, rolling your eyes briefly.

“at least put up a fight, dude.” you mumble, nearly sighing as it continues to plainly watch you. you walk a little closer, up until you’re only a few feet away, and hum. “you’re not the brightest…”

you insert your weapon back into it’s sheath, and stare. it’s been a while since you’ve had the chance to see a curse so closely. they’re all usually extremely reactive, not sparing you a second before attacking. violence is their prime instinct; the main thought in their heads.

when you reach your hand to poke it, and it still doesn’t budge, you know something is wrong.

oh.

your entire body stills, and you’re certain that you feel your stomach drop to the floor.

something felt familiar.

confirming your terrible suspicions, the curse disappears in front of your very eyes. not exorcised. you’re staring at the empty space that it once occupied, too bothered by the fact that your heartbeat has picked up ten times faster.

you almost reach for your phone, but stop, feeling as though it wouldn't be the wisest decision.

this suddenly all feels a little too calculated. you don’t even attempt to grab your weapon again.

shock numbs your bones. it bleeds through and renders you useless.

you hear your name before you see him, and you figure it feels the same as the nearly-fatal slash toji had given you almost a decade ago. so painful that it makes your heart stop. it’s spoken with such intimate fondness — too much for your poor heart to comprehend.

his ubiquity is so daunting that you’re sure all time ceases to exist.

you don’t want to turn around. you want to run, flee before you know it’s too late. before you hear him speak, and the world comes crashing down all over again. you’ve tried so hard to piece it back together. every tiny detail - you’re not sure if you’d be able to start over. why now? when you’ve finally been better. when you finally believed that normality was even possible to achieve.

but you’ve always naturally given into him, and that habit stays strong even after all these years. you think he knows that too.

it’s with upmost hesitance that you turn around.

you’re not sure what to do.

he’s a sight for sore eyes. healing, beautifully transparent. a dear smile, inviting you closer. or more like a predator awaiting it’s prey. your body is giving you every negative cue, yet your legs stay in place, submissive to his presence that’s been so horrendously missed.

he a little looks older. or maybe that’s just the unfamiliar sight of all his hair down.

“hi.”

a part of you thinks that if you ignore him for long enough, he might disappear. leave you alone, as he’s chosen to do before. he’s lost the right to be welcomed.

fury is really the only emotion you could accurately pinpoint. you hate how soft he speaks. you hate it more than anything.

if you could stomach it, you’d ask him to close his eyes and turn the other direction. you’ve always been weak when he looks at you so intently, as if studying you to the finest detail. but you refuse to be the one to look away first - you selfishly crave his attention more than you value your own self-respect.

and as suguru looks at you, he thinks you’ve made it impossibly more difficult to do anything but beg for undeserving forgiveness. he’s staring at reflective streams, seeing as they slowly trail down your face. it must feel nice to be falling tears, symbolic of raindrops returning to the ocean. he’d like to sit in front of the ocean again. with you, being careless teenagers just for a little longer. but the ocean brings back bitter memories and the thoughts of a certain brunette child, so he refrains from thinking further.

“… don’t cry.”

it’s not a command of any sort, but instead a quiet plea. you’re too pretty for tears. too pretty for pain, too pretty for this unfair life he’s plagued you with.

he watches your eyes visibly widen, and your hand raises quickly, using your sleeve to wipe remnants of your intense emotions. it stains your skin a bit red from how roughly you move, lashes dismally coated with the aftermath.

“i’m not—“ and you huff, your throat feeling tight. your head bows by instinct, and you shake it firmly. you press your palms to your eyes for a few seconds, pushing harshly, as if the pressure could ease some of the shock, or ground you in any way. “i’m not fucking crying.”

cautiously, suguru nods. he’ll play into you, listen to everything you say even if it’s not entirely truthful. anything to make his appearance less daunting and harmful. he waits for you to speak, knowing the sound of his voice may not be as pleasant as he had hoped. he’s not sure what he was expecting.

battered already, in so much internal sorrow you might collapse, you breathe as deeply as you are able to. it shakes, and you opt to biting your lip instead.

harrowing disbelief is tainting your skin and bones, and it feels hopeless to even try understanding why he’s here. waltzing right back into your life, bewitchingly present. words linger, staying on the tip of your tongue as you internally battle yourself to release them. release you.

the air smells like rain. and you think — all this anger, it was once was love.

“i hate you.”

and there’s a frown on your lips, trembling as you try to muster up all of the loathe, resentment, and frustration into those three words.

it fails. because the admission is not of truth — if anything, it’s guilt. for the sole reason that you know your feelings stand the exact opposite.

you hate suguru for leaving you. not him as a person; him as a thought. a thought that consistently runs rampant through your mind, adding fuel to a prevalent fire that refuses to be extinguished. and you imagine that he likes that he still has that effect on you, because the hauntingly serene smile he holds doesn’t even falter, not for a second.

you’re forced to stare at him with that expression, and it feels wickedly taunting. not as comforting as it had before.

“that’s alright.”

it’s all he puts out into the air, and that gentle tone he holds kinda makes you want to hit him. he’s not like satoru — you’re sure he’d let you. but suguru can sense your agonizing heartbreak. he’d sense everything about you with his eyes closed. and he feels guilty for making you reopen old wounds, but he’s unaware that they’ve never been given a chance to properly heal.

geto suguru sees a little bit of you in everything lovely. the sun shining in the morning, the smiles on two pretty little girl’s faces, the moon casting a dim halo over the world at night.

you’ve only become a greater treasure. one to be cherished, to be adored. he’s missed you in his sight more than anything. you’re still a angel on earth, incredulously beautiful. even with tears, even with that despaired look on your face. he’s fighting every urge in his body to not step closer and mend your broken self.

he’d like to run his fingers over your soul and pour his love into each crack he finds.

“give me a few minutes. that’s all i need.”

he’d prefer an eternity. but he thinks that he’s asked for something reasonable.

it’s expected when you scoff, glaring daggers with blurry vision. but it doesn’t make it any less painful.

suguru can take it. he deserves it.

“please.”

the distaste on your face refuses to falter.

you crave to love without it having consequences.

since when had caring become so much of a burden? it’s evil, honestly. maybe stone-cold was the way to go. nanami might be on to something.

“stop this, suguru.” you whisper, hand sliding down your face in frustration as you let out a bitter sigh that lacks any amusement. “leave me alone.”

he savors the way his name sounds on your tongue, the drawn-our syllables holding the same familiar care of nearly a decade ago. it feels longer, too much time spent away from you. it lightens his aura, makes his senses heightened in almost a feral way. you speak of him like fate.

old habits refuse to die, and he stays where he is, the same face of persuasion used as he outwardly refuses your answer.

“kill me, then.” he shrugs, and he thinks he might actually die from the way your frown falters into shock once again. his smile twitches, nearly threatening to downcast.

it should be what you do.

suguru was a dead man. that fact hadn’t slipped your mind. you remember when satoru saw him, in the flesh, after the sentence. he couldn’t bring himself to kill him then, and you could briefly recall the look on his face when you softly told him you could eventually do it if he wasn’t able to. that solemn twinge, knowing something you wouldn’t admit out loud.

because satoru knew, better than anyone around, that if you went through with it, it would break you past the point of repair.

suguru, seemingly satisfied with your stillness, steps a bit closer.

it kinda feels like doom. you think the world may stop for a moment, and that all the bad things in life will come and finish you off. that death will take your hand, guiding you, kinder than anything that’s ever really touched it. because what it’s held before has cursed it.

when his hands reach up, you expect a knife in the throat — any consequence for the stupidity of your compliance. but the blades are soft, and they raise to hold your face. gently, as if earning the trust of a stray kitten. because they’re not blades, they’re his hands. he feels you shaking against them. and it’s odd that all tranquility really needs is a certain sight; reassurance in the form of a graceful being who has been absent for too long. you don’t move. you’re unable to. instead, you stare, taking in a lost future. hair you used to brush yourself, eyes that would watch you with such visible adoration. they still do, and that realization alone has your head hurting.

you feel his thumb wipe below your eye, and it feels cold over your heated skin. suguru sighs, his eyebrows furrowing ever-so-slightly.

“you’re very beautiful.”

it’s spoken almost hopelessly, as if the admission physically hurts for him to say. in a way, it does. he’s let go of one of the last devotions to you that he’s kept bottled inside of him, because he knows this might be the last time he sees you. he has to let everything go. you need to know what he thinks of you, how important you are. how he’s submitted his soul to the disaster of loving you since you were teenagers.

by the way his eyes narrow, and his pupils grow just a tiny bit bigger, your eyes widen, and you’re pushing him away instantly.

you know what comes next. you’re able to predict it before it’s able to horrifically conjure itself out loud.

“no, suguru.”

he follows after you, a firm yet gentle hold on your forearms stopping you from completely leaving. you’re already shaking your head, biting your lip as it threatens to quiver. he’s trapping you, and he knows he’s already won.

“let me.” he coos, rubbing the skin of your trembling limbs. and you try to convince yourself that you shouldn’t sympathize, or fall for that sweet, missed voice of his. how he’s just a stranger you unfortunately know everything about. to ignore gentle aura you’ve missed so much that you felt as though you’ve never been able to get a grip on the pain in your chest. “let me say it.”

you’re not built for this, not capable enough to take another harrowing blow.

“leave — fucking, leave.” you seethe, frantically attempting to pull your arms back, though his hold has gotten stronger, and the fight that you have left in you is quickly diminishing by the second. there’s a moment — the tiniest sliver of time — where you stumble, and you’re being pushed closer to him before you can blink.

“you don’t want me to.” suguru shakes his head, eyeing you carefully as you stop your movements. it’s declarative.

you’d like to slap him. knock some common sense into his head because, obviously. you never wanted him to. not when you were sixteen, not now, not ever.

it’s just defense. because you cruelly know that letting him in will just make everything worse. walls were needed for protection, even if the doors are halfway open.

his hands find themselves cradling your face once more, and he’s pulling you, a small gap being the only distance left between a terrible decision. you’re subconsciously following, body keen on obeying his every move. his gaze feels a little intrusive, looking so intently you have the urge to turn your head and close your eyes. your breath is shaky, and you feel a little light-headed.

you wonder if anyone else in the world has ever loved someone this terribly.

hastily, your hands place themselves on his chest with an attempt to push him away, but they stay pliant. you look at him, incredulously.

“what is wrong with you?”

it’s clear when his expression darkens a little, and he dejectedly looks to the side. you catch his eyes widening a bit, the harshness of your tone foreign, because you’ve only ever spoken to him with such tender care. you’re spewing out words with cracks in your voice, nearly whispering because you’re afraid that if you speak any louder, it’ll truly start a storm.

“you… you kill people, leave me — leave everyone — and then…” your eyes close, and you feel the liquid trailing down your cheeks again before you’re able to stop it. you can’t finish your sentence, too busy holding your breath to calm a threatening sob.

it feels like you’re sixteen again, and everything is crumbling.

his arms move slowly as they wrap themselves around you, and you feel even more inclined to cry when he presses your head against his chest. like he’s done dozens of times before. he sucks, the world sucks. this comfort is long overdue, and you still can’t find it in yourself to complain, simply succumbing to the pressure of his presence. you’d like to hug your younger self. because she needed this, even if it can’t really count as closure. even if you currently felt your knees buckling from beneath you.

“i wish i could take away the pain, pretty girl.”

suguru won’t give you false apologies. he only feels guilt for causing you harm. he dislikes how pain looks on your face, and he wants to tell you that he’s unable to sleep at night without you, that every day is a challenge. that truthfully, the ache is mutual. but he has something to accomplish, and you stand on opposing sides.

the two of you are stubborn people.

“take it,” you tremble, and your arms are already around him, despite the screams in your mind. he feels safe. he feels like everything and more. “please, please, take it.”

the pleading in your voice makes suguru feel horribly ill, and he tightens his grip on you, not really knowing what else to do.

it’s worse when you’re the perpetrator. the criminal, the evil. he wonders what your life might have looked like without him in it — how happy you could have been. should’ve been.

but there’s been bad things — events that he’s sure might had ended horrifically differently without his existence.

he wonders how your scar looks, now.

suguru’s fingers are firm as they reach below your chin, and he forces your eyes to meet once more. they’re red and glossy, but still undeniably captivating. he’d like to look at them forever.

“i would, if it were that easy. i promise you.”

you believe him. it could be from the genuine strain in his voice, or your muddled brain that’s clawing to escape your own head. what good is a healthy mind?

he’s saying your name again, and it’s quieter this time. more intimate. you don’t cower, you stay, even huddling the tiniest bit closer. you’ve given up on composure, you’ll let him selfishly have you. besides, it feels nice when he’s treating you so delicately. hands ghosting over your cheeks, eyes that admire your desperate, sad ones. you don’t stop him this time, numbly prepared for the aftermath.

he pauses, trailing his thumb over your jaw, and swallowing thickly. he’s never quite looked normal. always too perfect in comparison to everything else. he smiles, and you see a hint of something that you can’t really classify as full joy.

“i love you.”

the world doesn’t end.

you’re still looking at him, thinking that it will for a moment. instead, you see bashful pink.

‘i love you’ is such a tricky sentence. it’s powerful, meaningful, and could also be a lie. the power of speech is that there really are no limits, and you suppose that’s what makes bad people. sometimes.

he toys with the collar of your shirt, briefly, and lets out a breath of amusement through his nose. suguru feels lighter. and simultaneously horrible. he tilts his head, barely, his voice quiet.

“will you let me kiss you? even if you hate me?”

there’s a little teasing in that sentence, and he nudges his nose across the side of your face affectionately. you’re unaware of how hard his heart beats against his chest as soon as he asks.

you’re sixteen once more, and you’re silently nodding before you’re able to think further.

you’re imagining fairytales you can’t believe in.

it’s hard to determine how long you’ve thought about it. his lips on yours. your hands are in his hair and on his face nearly immediately. you’d trade a lot of things to be this close for longer — you wish to be combined. and he’s soft. he’s so soft you dread taking your hands off of him. if heaven was a place on earth, it’d be this.

pitiful.

he tastes sweet, like a forgotten dream. butterflies suffocate your insides as you stand, and your knees feel a little weaker. suguru is a bit impatient with his movements, hands trailing down your sides to squeeze and caress. his touch feels hot and is hastily done, but gentle nonetheless. you feel his lips curl up against yours, and your stomach flips.

you rather not pull away. pulling away brings back reality, and fantasy is really all you want. if you kiss him a bit harder, and close your eyes a little longer, you’re able to stay.

he pulls back first.

you’re breathing heavy, eyes wide as they bore into his. he might be the most precious thing in your life, and you’re not sure if you’re able to let him go. you’re afraid that you’ll love him forever, and that you’ll never be in the same place again. this feels cruelly temporary, and you know it is. by the way his expression settles, and the way he repeats those three words so quietly, it’s meant for only you to hear. a fact.

“i love you.”

you swallow thickly, in a haze that’s caused just by his very being. a drug-like addiction, and you feel so content it’s like you’re home.

suguru knows you won’t say it back. and in all honesty, he prefers it that way. it’s what’s best. what matters most is that he knows you mean to. he’s able to read that lovestruck wonder on your face so easily it makes him warm. it was both a relief and horror to be known so perfectly. you, who still wears your heart on your sleeve. he’s forever grateful that you’ve always been so giving, so selfless when it comes to him. he feels as though he abuses your sweet compassion.

you tug on his sleeve.

“we can work something out.” you whisper against him, and suguru knows he’s gone too far. he’s tensing, and his eyes are anxious, a small shake of his head contrasting your nods. “i’m yours. i’m yours before anything else.”

heart, mind, body, soul. you’re bonded for life, and you’ve known that since you were young.

“oh, no, baby.” suguru hurriedly answers, and the desperation in your voice, the way you clutch on to him a little tighter, has his head reeling. he’s panicking. “you’re better where you are, sweet girl.”

you know his mind is made up, that it’s fruitless to try, but you’re so blinded by desires that you don’t even care that you’re begging him. he’s mean, doing this to you. there is no ultimatum or other decision - this is it. you’re just destined to be separate, and that hurts to realize, so you’re glad he’s cushioning the blow. just enough for you to keep standing.

suguru is complicated. he hates that he is, he hates what his life has brought him (the only exception being the beauty of the people in his past; you included), but he’s certain that you’re safer as it is. golden and pure. with satoru, with shoko. and you’re strong. you’re so strong he can’t put it into words.

maybe he had some reasonable motives — riko’s death, yours and satoru’s near deaths, haibara’s death — but they’ve shaped him. shaped you, more, as it seems. you continue your life, even after it��s been tainted red, and blackened with misery. satoru, the same. you can take a bit more. you’ve gone through the worst of it. at least — it’s what he selfishly tells himself.

it was stupid to come see you. kiss you, at that. but he can’t bring himself to regret even slightly. if he’s considered evil, barbaric, he’ll gladly take the titles if it meant spending more moments with you. it’s cruel, not malicious.

you’re still his person. but he can’t have you fully — at least, not in this lifetime.

suguru isn’t really sure he could pass on the torch so easily. to give you up completely — the most ultimate sacrifice. where there would be a possibility of his replacement, and the loss of his heart. he can’t trust anyone with loving you; no one can really love you like he does. he’ll take pride in that.

“you’re going to live a long, happy life.” suguru quietly assures, nudging his nose against yours. your eyes are tightly shut, overall avoidant. this might be a nightmare, if you believe hard enough. “find someone who loves you, and you easily will, do everything-“

“i don’t want anyone else.” you interrupt, eyes narrowing as they open, like the idea is something of the unthinkable. “you’d be stupid to think i do.”

this might be worse than unrequited love, you think. every feeling is mutual, besides the belief that you should be together. he’s the bane of your existence. and that kills.

suguru is reasonable. you understand his refusals, why the two of you can’t be — how immaturely you’re thinking about this. you can’t leave your life behind for him, it’d be asking for your own death sentence and the loss of everything left that’s good in your life.

you can’t create a cycle, as much as it pains for you to come to terms with.

“i can’t have you, pretty girl.” suguru sighs, trying to ignore the way his voice wavers the tiniest bit. he’s growing desperate in persuasion, but even he falls flat against the situation. “i want to, so bad, but it’s not right. we’re not right.”

your chest feels tight as you stare up at him.

you wonder, truly, if he’s aware of all the turmoil he’s caused; that he’s let happen, because he never even came back to offer a mere shoulder for support. he simply left you in the dust.

it hurts to hear, especially coming from lips that had been pressed so wonderfully against yours. you still can’t bring yourself to hate him.

you used to fear irrational ideas. that if you let someone in, take care of you, you wouldn’t really be yourself anymore. independency never worked well, and you’ve strung on a bit too hard to a knight in shining armour. a being like icarus, who’s flown too close to the sun. you were right, it seems.

you’ve lost, and it kills to realize.

bitterly, you remember hearing some time ago that ‘it gets easier.’ or better. it’s been repeated to you, multiple times. the reality is, you’re not too sure. what gets easier is maybe the coping. but even that is still evil and painful.

hopeless, you stand, and your voice feels hoarse.

“… suguru?”

how can you hate something so natural? when it feels as though those syllables are meant to be spoken in repetition. his name means excellence; to surpass all.

suguru looks at you, eyes previously occupied with gazing upwards to avoid an act of human emotion. they mirror yours, glossy and faintly red. no visible tears. he has the self-control you lack.

but you can be a little selfish.

“can you…” you take a deep breath, and lean a little forward, resting your head in the crook of his neck to escape a reaction. if he feels the liquid of your tears, he doesn’t comment on them. he’s awfully warm. you’d like to lay in bed with him under a summer sun again. you’re trying to force every part of him into your memory while he’s pressed to closely against you. how his hair tickles your neck, the security of his loving arms keeping you from physical harm, how pretty he looks up close.

it’s not greedy to ask for a final request, you think.

“can you stay with me, then? for a few more minutes?”

an innocent question, while he’s been nothing but cruel. despite everything, you’re still you.

it reminds him of his youth. when you and satoru would get into playful arguments, gaining a few steps on him, only for you to turn back and check that he was still there. or when you would return from missions, him being the first person you looked for every time, just to let him know you came back safely.

sometimes, you’d come back a bit battered up, and instead of confiding in shoko for help like any other person would, you trusted him with treating the wounds. all natural, because that meant you got to spend more time together. human bodies are fragile things. he realized the true extent of that after toji. you really can’t take anything for granted.

so it’s really no wonder why he fell in love with you. why he came to fully accept it. and his belief stands strong — anyone would. angels are irresistible, he finds. he would sometimes see wings.

suguru’s glad you can’t see his face. because maybe then, you’d catch the sight of a reflective shimmer trailing down his cheek.

the embodiment of your dreams, hopes, and desires holds you so gently, a little tighter now. he nods against you, but it feels disconnected, because he’s faded into darkness that has already consumed him. too far gone.

time is nothing for now.

and you wonder if it actually does get better, or if everyone is just lying to you.

•••

september, 2018.

“sensei?”

blinking slowly, you immediately straighten at the sight of three towering figures above your relaxed position.

there’s a panic that sets in at the recognition of how watery your eyes feel, and your head turns in an instant to cough awkwardly, avoiding their stares.

it’s around noon, judging by how pleasantly the sun shines through the window, and how awake your students look. yuji liked to sleep in sometimes.

“did i zone out for a bit?” you mindlessly chuckle, the words feeling a little strange on your tongue. you might have a migraine from how much your head is hurting. “i didn’t get too much sleep last night, sorry guys.”

your smile radiates a reassuring warmth, and the concern on their faces leaves by the time you look back at them. if jujustu didn’t work, maybe you could take up acting.

“we finished the warmups you instructed!” nobara beams, short hair flowing after her as she proudly stands. she glances at yuji, her eyes narrowing. “well, me and fushiguro did.”

yuji shoves her.

nobara has always reminded you of rough recovery rooms and gentle curing hands. it makes you a bit nauseous, the nostalgia of it all.

the sight of the whole trio sometimes felt like daggers digging into your heart, stabbing greedy wounds into open gashes before they have a chance to heal.

brighter days for them, a dull ache for you.

“you weren’t awake yet-“

“i told you to wake me up!”

“you did not!”

yuji and nobara bicker for a second, and you feel a little overwhelmed.

because since these two have set foot on campus, they had seemed oddly familiar. unbeknownst to them, but relentlessly distressing for you. you’re silent as you observe, the uncomfortable pit in your stomach staying clear as day. stubborn, because that’s only natural for you.

more than a decade has passed — nearly three years since your last encounter, almost a year after his death, and yet here you are. the hurt just as strong, because you’ve realized that the pain will never fully go away, and you suppose you’ll have to adapt to living with it forever.

but you’re grateful. though you couldn’t go back to the way things were, you have a chance at stopping the cycle. after all, you know little about what the future has in store for them.

you hope it’s kind. you want those grins to stay permanently, for their youth and innocence to linger for as long as possible. because you never had that luxury. the end of your purity was far too quick, adult emotions flooding your senses. you’d do anything to keep them from feeling like you.

plus, you’re allowed to grieve over the child you could’ve been.

“alright, alright,” you blink, interrupting them before their voices can get any louder. they immediately quiet down, turning to you expectantly. it freaks you out a little.

you were still relatively new to whole teaching thing, not used to being followed so attentively. it felt weird to give orders — to have them be listened to, really. satoru was more of a natural, his cheekiness benefitting him perfectly. even if the students found him undeniably strange.

“give me ten minutes and i’ll meet you outside.” you wave a hand, pointing to yuji. “and sorry kiddo, you’re doing some laps for getting up late.”

you fight a smile as you witness a pout form on his lips, nobara’s laugh drowning out his whining. you’d probably only make him run one, but it was always amusing to lie to his face. you adored yuji — he was a bundle of joy graciously given to the universe. it’s pure luck that he ended up with you.

you watch as nobara drags him out, your head resting on your palm, softly chuckling. they complimented each other well. like siblings, you think.

your head turns, finally facing eyes that hadn’t strayed away from you since you woke up from your daydream. it's like a sixth sense now. you know when he's looking at you, when he seems genuinely bothered. it took time to know him. he’s a hard shell to crack.

“you don’t get special privileges, megs.” you snort, motioning your head towards the door. “go join them, i just need some time to wake up.”

megumi looks unimpressed (and honestly, when does he not?), sighing softly before coming closer. the cushion beside you sinks as he sits, and you raise a brow questionably. his voice is blunt, quiet as it fills the room.

“you think too much.”

it surprises you a little, but you’ve come to learn that megumi is rarely predictable, and to always expect the unexpected.

“do i?” you muse, your smile visibly weakening as you softly laugh.

he was too aware of everything, perception like no other. he reminded of you of suguru sometimes, behavior so nonchalant in comparison to the rest of the world. they were both silent observers.

megumi nods, and you realize he’s rather close, only a few inches away from grazing your skin. touch was something megumi struggled with growing up, so you never pushed it on him; you hated making him uncomfortable, while satoru could care less. the giant didn’t understand boundaries. but sometimes, movie nights in his adolescence led to him latching on to you in his sleep. he had his moments.

it makes the action of his hand raising, pressing your head into his shoulder, much more meaningful.

“don’t think.”

megumi’s never been one for melodramatic situations. growing up, he’d used to complain when tsumiki would force him to watch disney movies with her, getting visibly annoyed when he’d spot her tears during more heartfelt scenes. you never brought up the fact that he’d let her rest her head on his shoulder (you secretly wonder if that’s why he’s doing that now), or would rub her back. megumi’s not kind, per say, but he knows how to secretly love (in his own, strange way. similar to satoru), and you think that’s more important than anything.

“that’d be cool.” you sigh, closing your eyes. your eyelids feel heavy on your face, and you try not to get too comfortable, remembering that you’d have to get up in a few minutes. “wish it were that simple.”

megumi hums, staring straight ahead.

your past is a secret to him, tightly kept in the confinements of your heart. and that's really the only hint he's ever needed to know that it still affects you. satoru, the same. he knew little about your lives before he came into the picture, only hearing bits and pieces when you and satoru would get a bit sleep-drunk and giggle about old memories. he's always tried his best to listen, soaking in any details he can. people are generally more honest and open when physically tired. it's why they confess things during late night conversations, and why the flow of words comes out more natural.

you were different from the idiot that had originally taken him in. megumi can scream from every rooftop that he hated gojo satoru (despite it being secretly untrue), but you? the mediator, who he looked up to more than anything? impossible, it’d be criminal.

maybe you disliked seeming hopeless in front of him, but he didn't mind that vulnerability. he wished you'd trust him with it more — that you knew he would never dream of judging you. he's not too well with words, or communicating, really, so he's also not too sure how to tell you. a double-edged sword.

"you're okay, though — right?"

his eyes glance downwards towards you, dark blue highlighting the inklings of concern. it's not awkward when he asks.

he has a heart, despite satoru's beliefs.

heart warmed, you grin, raising your head to look at him with crinkled narrowed eyes.

you find it funny how the world works. going in some strange, bittersweet chain of events because here you were, caring for the life of a dead man’s son while he had permanently tainted yours. and you're happy. not completely, but sun shines through. the blinds are halfway open.

something that had once seemed so dark has been becoming technicolor.

"yeah." you nod, sincerely, and pat his cheek gently, stifling a laugh when his face scrunches in silent disapproval. "thank you for asking. really."

his face gently pulls away from your touch, and you can tell he's slightly flustered, just a tad embarrassed at your small affection. you're grateful for him, unbelievably thankful for the bits of effort he's always put into caring about you (and tsumiki. and maybe the tiniest bit for satoru. tiny.). a true blessing.

gingerly, he stands up, hands in his pockets as he glances at you again, double-checking. you smile.

he only continues to walk towards the door when you give him a nod in reassurance.

you're left staring at your hands when he leaves, a soft sigh escaping your lips. some days are harder than others. it's the toss of a coin, no chances pre-determined. you simply wake up to the surprise every time.

admittedly, you miss the version of you that doesn’t really exist anymore. naive, but more open. fearless and valiant, only ever seeking improvement. you feel bitter that you took that time of your life for granted.

you’ve found that everything’s felt easier, though. something in the air is different.

“hey, did you leave the kids outside? it's hot out there and they're complaining like crazy-“

you hear footsteps come to a halt, and your head tilts up, finding satoru in it's vision. he stands in place by the door, eyes wide as he stares.

"hey," you nonchalantly wave, stretching to alleviate the soreness in your muscles. "i'll be out in a second."

you attempt to get up from your seat, but satoru ushers towards you, stopping you from successfully moving.

"woah, woah, woah — what’s got you so blue?” he asks, scanning over you briefly. there's a light-hearted smile on his face, and if you didn't know him well enough, you might have mistaken it for amusement. but it's down-casted slightly, and he's looking at you a little too intently.

you snort, rolling your eyes playfully, “i’m not blue.”

satoru blinks, unappreciative of the response that he can only justify was from being around him too often.

“fine — what’s wrong with you?” he corrects himself bluntly, crossing his arms. your eyes follow him as he takes a seat beside you, and you internally sigh, thinking about how you’ve left your three students to perish under the sun.

you wave a hand dismissively, "nothing.”

“aw, c’mon,” satoru drawls, and you have half a mind to complain when he sprawls himself over your lap, his eyewear pushed upwards and off his face as he looks up at you. the blue twinkles, even under the fluorescent lighting. “you’ve never been a good liar.”

“okay, now that’s a lie. a bad one.” you scoff, poking his nose. “i’m a talented actress. oscar worthy.”

he playfully winces, narrowing his eyes at you. “no one’s ever been honest with you before, huh?”

“who needs opinions?” you roll your eyes, nudging his head softly. “it’s all about self-love now.”

“yeah, yeah,” satoru whistles, peering up from one eye, the other closed as he visibly relaxes against you. “see how far that takes you.”

you gasp dramatically, “mean.”

the corner of his lips quirks up, and his familiar smirk returns.

banter was natural with satoru. it was hard to take anything seriously with him around.

he brings joy in mundaneness.

“you shouldn’t trust megumi, y’know.”

confused, you pause, looking at him questionably.

“why?” you ask, and you’re internally conflicted as you attempt to recall every recent memory in your head that’s a classified secret. or, something you’ve generally told megumi as of late. nothing comes to mind.

“dunno. he told me something was wrong with you when i walked past him right now.”

your eyes widen, and you groan, head falling back against the couch’s soft exterior.

traitor.

“so,” satoru continues, and his voice is softer, a little more serious. “really — what’s wrong?”

it’s always been pointless to beat around the bush with satoru. he’s impatient, immature, and wonderful. a bad mix that makes you wonder how it’s even possible that he’s generally likable.

“nothing.” you emphasize, rubbing your head in slight annoyance. “he’s making it up.”

you rather not have this conversation. not while the air is half-hearted, and everything has been steady. but he’s right there. and it might not hurt as much as you think it will.

satoru gawks, mouth open, before poking you harshly. “now you’re calling our son a liar? low blow.”

you huff, “he went lower by betraying me.”

a beat of silence.

“so he was right?” satoru blinks, and he’s sitting up hesitantly, awaiting your voice, or a movement. anything to confirm.

“will you leave me alone if i say no?”

“no? you just admitted he wasn’t lying.”

“oh. yeah.”

you’re smiling lightly, faintly awful because you’re not too sure how wise you’re being. maybe this was only the mature option.

“um… i was just thinking. about him.”

you hadn’t really spoken much about last december. there was no tension or anything — it was just a touchy subject for the both of you.

satoru had more right to be bothered.

you expect his expression to drop — for it to grow uncomfortably quiet, leaving you to voice a regretful apology. you’ve rarely seen satoru break. his joyous front is him in natural form. sorrow doesn’t look right on his face.

he’s only been at his worse around you. and that’s a fact that binds you for life, as dismissive as you two seem to act about it.

angels carry weights off your shoulders, and satoru smiles a little. albeit, visibly bittersweet, but a smile.

“we do that a lot, don’t we?”

he’s stupid, annoying, and infuriating when he looks at you like that. as if you two are similar, and he knows how to ice the bruises on your back.

(he does.)

geto suguru is an enigma. is, because even in death, he’s found a way to stay alive. he lives in memories; in thoughts that keep both of you awake at night.

“i guess i just …” you trail off, staring at the floor. you’d be okay with living the rest of your life by satoru’s side. he’s peace, and he knows you tenderly.

you exhale, a small bitter chuckle leaving your lips.

“i don’t know what to do with all the love i have for him.” you admit, arms laying flat as you shrug with a despaired smile that makes satoru feel a little hollow. your hands flow freely, motioning for a few moments before resting back in your lap. “i don’t know where to put it.”

you haven’t known in years. it’s bundled up, suffocating your insides and exhausting your soul. he’s too well tangled with it.

a lot was left unsaid.

answers you crave, questions that will forever follow.

“i’ll take it.”

satoru grins, and you have to bite back a smile from how infectious his expression is. it radiates sunshine.

you feel his warm hands cup over yours, and he gently rubs across your knuckles with his thumbs, soothing that isolating cold. “you can give it to all of us, actually. but more for me.”

he’s silly, and he’s everything and more.

you wonder if you would’ve made it through without him. he’s impacted your life so heavily, you can’t imagine a world void of his presence.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you mumble, smile ever-so-visible as you playfully nudge him. satoru nods feverishly.

“i’d adore it.” he’s beaming like the cheshire cat, and your expression falls flat as you await whatever idiotic words would flow out of his mouth next. he brings a finger to his chin and hums.

“you know what, though? maybe give some extra to megumi. but i’m not really sure any love could save that kid. not even a mother’s. he's creepy, i'm telling you-“

“satoru.”

he innocently smiles, eyes closed. “just a suggestion.”

you playfully roll your eyes.

it’s all romanticism until it truly hurts. love seems so small, so trivial, when you’re not being affected.

satoru hides his grief better than you ever could. he copes uniquely, and you suppose his way may even help you a little.

they should invent a healing that is linear, you think. so you can’t fall behind, and you can be all-smiles too.

but you’re close enough.

just the right amount, actually.

#geto suguru #geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen fanfic #jjk angst #stsg x reader #gojo x reader #jjk #gojo angst #geto angst #anime x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jjk x you #jjk season 2 #satoru x reader #jjk geto #jujustu kaisen fluff #jjk megumi #fushiguro megumi #yuji itadori #shoko ieiri #gojo satoru x reader #satosugu x reader

[yuyusboyfriend]

Cookies & Cream

pairing: nerd!seonghwa x reader

wordcount: 2,7k

content: your tutor helps himself to the cookies in your bag despite you telling him countless times no, without knowing what they really are.

warnings: nsfw, aphrodisiacs, afab reader (use of words cunt, clit, pussy - no mentions of chest or other gendered terms) dom!reader, sub!seonghwa, use of pet names (baby, love), unprotected sex (wrap it ☝️) mentions of food, mentions of sex toys, blow job, cunnilingus (pussy ATE 🗣), edging, some body worship, lmk if there's anything else

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You had told Seonghwa that on the way to his dorm for a study session, you'd be picking up snacks to get you through the next few dreaded hours. Not that you dreaded spending time with seonghwa, the boy was a pleasure to look at, big brown eyes smiling at you every time you grasped a concept thanks to his help; the warmth of his body engulfing yours when he leant over you to help with a question.

Okay, that wasn't so much helpful as it was distracting, but you liked it nonetheless. You wondered if Seonghwa had any relationship experience, because of the way he was oblivious to almost every move anyone made on him, and would turn fire engine-red when he heard you talk about anything slightly sexual. From your observations, you had concluded that this man has probably never felt the touch of a lover. Still he was a lovely boy, sweet and innocent,,, it kind of did something for you.

“Did you get me turtle chips?” Seonghwa questioned through the front door.

“No 'hello y/n! You made it! Nice to see you'? What did you do with my sweet seonghwa?” you sighed at him, knowing you bought him both the originals, and the churro version. Pretending to not notice the blush on his cheeks, likely caused by the 'my sweet seonghwa' comment, you strolled passed him till you reached your regular spot on the sofa. You pulled the snacks out one by one, watching the joy on Seonghwa's face as you brought all of his favourites to last him until the next session.

“What's in the tub?” seonghwa eyed the plastic tub you had put bag into your bag after pulling the rest of the drinks out.

“Cookies I made, and before you ask, no you can't have any.” you warn.

Seonghwa pouts like his life depends on it, devastated as he adores home-baked goods, especially the ones you make for him. "Why? Who are they for?? Are you seeing someone after me?” he blurts out a little too desperately.

“Why? You jealous, Hwa?” you smirk at him, watching him turn red once again at your words.

“I'm not jealous! I was… just worried because it'll be late by the time you leave, I don't want you wandering around at night…” he gets quieter with each word.

Ah shit, you feel kind of guilty now. You stood up to walk over to the table where always study together, ruffling his hair as you go. “Oh, Hwa, I'm going straight back home after this, don't worry your sweet little head,” you reassure his worrying.

You hadn't realised your tutor had cared so much about you, before this you didn't even know if he considered you friends. Your stomach fluttered at the idea, knowing that seonghwa didn't have many people he considered friends, you could count them all in one hand.

He huffed and pulled out his chair, handing you the test papers you had filled last session, with red pen markings on it showing you where to improve.

“You did really well, if you keep this up you'll be passing with flying colours. I added a couple suggestions on where you can expand on points, but otherwise, you did an amazing job y/n.” He smiles softly at you, proud that your hard work has been paying off.

After an hour of going over some new material from your classes with him, you decide to take a break to stretch and eat the food you brought. Although, you both had already cleared a bag of turtle chips and a bowl of M&Ms in that time, as well as a bottle of your favourite drink.

“Hwa I'm going to the bathroom, ill be back in a minute” you announced to your friend as you walked down the hallway to his spotless bathroom; you always admired how clean seonghwa was, sometimes he'd even help you with yours when you held study sessions there.

Honestly, seonghwa was still hung up on why you didn't let him eat the cookies in your bag, the clear container told him there was way more than you could eat on your own,,,

Surely—you wouldn't notice if one was missing…right?

The boy looked over to the hallway, listening to the sound of you—fighting the shower curtain? He couldn't tell, but you sounded busy. He turned his head back to your bag and reached in, opening the tub and taking one…must've okay three cookies, stuffing them in his mouth and chewing them as fast as he could. They tasted like heaven, he could tell they were a little different from your regular ones, you must've tried a new recipe? Maybe that's why you were so adamant about him not having any? Whatever it was, it was hardly noticeable, the crispy marshmallows taking over his taste buds. He quite literally moaned at the taste, almost annoyed that he nearly missed out on this.

He washed them down with the strawberry milk he kept stocked and put everything back where it was, just as you walked out of the bathroom.

“Alright, what have we got left?” you looked at the boy standing by his chair.

“Uh, we”, Seonghwa went to answer your question but his brain completely blanked. “We were…” he looked at the table to remember where you had left off, but you had already his noticed is off demeanour.

“Hwa, you good?” you tilted your head at the boy, watching him push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“I'm great y/n! Lets, uh, get back to the work?” he avoided looking in your direction, his body feeling funny - fuck, what did you put in those cookies? He thought.

“Hwa. What did you just say? Did you—Did you eat the cookies I told you not to!?” You started raising your voice at him, more worried about him than anything.

“I-I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd notice if a few were gone…” he says under his breath, feeling overwhelmingly heavy. His emotions feeling all too strong to the point where he feels a tear rolling down his cheek before he could stop it. His core felt like hot coals, and his skin more painfully tender than he had ever experienced in his life.

"Sit down, I'm gonna get you some water… I know this is a weird question, but are you seeing anybody currently that I can call?" you already knew the answer, but you didn't want to risk it.

"Wh-what? No, I'm not seeing anybody y/n, why would you need to-" He huffed out a groan as his sweatpants grew tighter and rubbed against his swelling hard on.

"Okay, those cookies you just ate? They're aphrodisiac cookies, I hadn't even had a chance to test them out, I was going to when I got home…" you reluctantly looked at Seonghwa's horrified expression, mixed with sweat forming on his brow. You watched as he fidgeted and pulled at his irritating clothing, his hips rutting and bucking subtly against nothing.

"Hwa you wouldn't happen to have any… sex toys, would you? I can go to the pharmacy and pick some up, It's not far." you already start grabbing his spare set of keys and your jacket to leave, if you went now it would only take 8 minutes-

"In the bottom drawer of my desk, can you help me get to my room?" Oh. So he wasn't as innocent as you thought. He reached out for you, barely able to stand by himself now, his legs feeling like they would crumble under his weight. As you wrapped Seonghwa's arm over your shoulder, pulling him up, he pressed his body against yours, resting his head on your shoulder. God, the scent of you was making him harder, barely restraining himself from biting your neck while you walked him to his bedroom.

He slumped into his bed, not waiting any longer to take his shirt off. He wanted to burn the damn thing now, the material felt torturous on his sensitive nipples. You looked at him in awe, his blushing body making your mouth dry and your hands ache to feel him under them.

"Well, I'm gonna go-"

"No."

You looked at him in confusion, seeing his darkened eyes filled with desire, "What do you mean, no?"

"The least you could do is help me...please?"

That's all you needed to jump into his lap and connect your lips. The kiss was filled with desperation, teeth bumping and tongues swirling together, fighting for dominance in your mouths. You grind against his aching cock, dragging a whine from his sweet voice.

"Sweatpants off, now Hwa" need dripping from each word, you didn't have to tell seonghwa twice. He lifted his hips up on the bed, and he pulled them off with your help. You took a moment to take in his figure. He was gorgeous, I mean, you already knew that, but lying here looking so desperate for your touch gave you goosebumps. You wanted to devour him; and you would do just that. You leant down between his legs to his stiff cock, kitten licking his soaked tip.

"Oh fuck," He squirmed under your tongue, hips trying to buck into your mouth for more. You held his hips down as you took him fully to the back of your throat. He cried out sweet whimpers at the feeling of your mouth around his cock, taken away all too quickly as you came back up for air. He didn't have to suffer for too long, though, as you formed a steady rhythm with your hand.

"I'm gonna cum y/n it feels too good," tears rolled down his reddened cheeks.

You took his cock out of your mouth with a pop, "love, we just started, I can't have you cumming that quickly now, can I?" untying the string of your own sweats, pulling them down with your underwear, exposing your bottom half to seonghwa. His member twitching and leaking at just the sight of you.

"You're my tutor, shouldn't you be helping me, hm? Why don't you let me sit on your face, and you can show me how to make someone cum, baby?"

Hwa had a habit of swiping his tongue against his lip when he was thinking, or doing anything and fuck, he was so sexy about it. It fuelled so many wet dreams and solo sessions, you couldn't wait to feel it in action.

God, he did not disappoint. He swiped his tongue across your soaking cunt, swirling around your swollen clit. You cried out at the sensations of him ravaging you as you stimulated your clit on the tip of his nose, while he fucked your starving hole with his long tongue. It didn't take long for the pressure in the pit of your stomach to build, you barely had time to warn seonghwa before you came on his tongue. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and rocked your hips against his face as you rode out your high.

You admired his fucked out face, your arousal still across his mouth and nose, and leaned over to kiss him again. “Okay, it's only fair you have your turn Hwa, ready baby?”

He could only whine out your name and beg for you to fuck him, he was so ethereal in this state. You couldn't wait to see him cum. As you sank down on his cock, he sat up and gripped your hips so hard it would leave marks he wanted to worship after. Once you bottomed out, you stayed there, letting seonghwa adjust to the feeling. He pulled your shirt over your head and kissed your skin, scattering hickeys across your chest.

"Fuck you're so tight y/n, please move," he keeps his hands on you trying to roll your hips against him.

"And you're such a needy boy, should've listened to me when I told you not to eat those cookies, hm?" you cooed at the boy looking into glossy eyes, before lifting yourself up and slamming back down, ripping the loudest moan yet out of seonghwa. You kept a slow, steady pace, teasing and punishing seonghwa for this very avoidable situation, more so because you worried that this would be the last time on his cock. Fuck he was perfect, he filled you so much better than your exes', hitting all the spots you never knew you needed.

But, He couldn't take much more of the pace and took it into his own hands, flipping you on your back and lifting your legs over his shoulders to put you in a mating press. Once he had you like that you knew you were done for. His hips slammed into your cunt, making your jaw drop, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. The way he pounded you deliciously had you seeing stars, Your groans just short of screams; not so much because you didn't need to but for his neighbours' sake, although you were already expecting to hear about a complaint in the morning anyway.

"fuck, fuck y/n you feel so good," He huffed out a series of thank-yous and sweet nothings into your skin, worshipping your pussy like he was willing to die for it.

He picked up his pace, thrusting just as deep, and you knew you wouldn't be able to last much longer, by the looks on his face he was right there with you. You cried out again when he moved his hand to your clit, circling with his thumb at the same pace as he was dipping into your cunt, your orgasm just on the edge.

"Y/n I'm gonna cum I can't-" was all he could get out before you clenched tightly around his cock, your own orgasm beating his. He pressed his hips down into your cunt, his cum filling you, leaking out from your hole. He rocked in and out once more before finally, and reluctantly, pulling out, watching his cum leak out of you.

Once he had helped you clean up and changed the bedsheets, you started looking for your scattered clothes to go home, you didn't know how to face seonghwa, guilt rushing back through your veins.

"Where you going?" seonghwa looked at you from the bed with sad eyes.

"well you know, I thought- I thought I should…." you mumbled.

"Come back, I'm not done yet…and I'm cold…" seonghwa smiled sweetly, pulling the blanket back for you to get in with him. With a sigh of relief, you picked up one of his hoodies he had left on the back of his desk chair and pulled it over your head before climbing into bed with seonghwa. As soon as you were under the covers his arms wrapped tightly around you, slipping his hands under the hoodie.

"Are you okay with this? I mean, is it okay that I like you as more than a tutee? Seonghwa softly admitted into your neck as he held you closer, rubbing circles into the small of your back. His breathing against your neck gave you goosebumps, you wouldn't ever want to leave his arms if it was an option.

"You like me? Wow Hwa, you're trying to take advantage of your student" you teased, but not for long when he looked at you pouting. Instead of answering with your words, you pressed your lips to his once again, taking your time to enjoy feeling his soft lips and the way that you fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle. You fiddled with the hair that reached his nape pulling a satisfied hum from seonghwa.

You pulled away to look into his pretty eyes, "So, tell me more about the toys in the draw?"

AHHH this took ages ,,,,, I deleted like 1000 words and started over bc I wasn't happy with it but now! It is done!!!!!!!! Who next......

also not proof read so sorry for any mistakes !

#ateez x reader #park seonghwa #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #ateez imagine #nerd seonghwa #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa smut #ateez imagines #park seonghwa smut #cant think of anything else #👍👍👍

[koqabear]

Wish Me Luck?

♫: Wake Up In The Sky, Bruno Mars

“In which working with these two makes your life impossible— because they’re annoying, and won’t leave you alone— you try your best to ignore them but sometimes, it’s too tempting.”

hueningkai x fem!reader x taehyun

Genre: pwp, rockstar au, makeup artist!reader, smut

Word count: 6.2K

Warnings: genuinely like.. none, i think. 

Smut Warnings: dom!tae, dom!huening, sub!mc, threesome, unprotected sex, they’re both pervs sorry, use of mirrors(?), pet names (pretty, doll, cutie, etc.) dry humping, slight marking, handjob, fingering, hair pulling, spanking, praise, masturbation, slight exhibitionism?, multiple orgasms, creampie(s), lmk if i should add anything!

Notes: part of a rockstar!txt mini series. lowkey gave up on formatting so if shows don’t tell me. anyways! happy birthday to my bf huening 😁 again this was like… barely edited so it’s a little uhh… idk. enjoy, hopefully..

There are many perks that come with the rockstar lifestyle— money, clothes, fame, women.

Taehyun tries to take advantage of it all— and he has, though he finds that the last perk is reserved for someone more… special. 

Taehyun is currently in his favorite place to be before a concert— the makeup station, of course. This could mean many things for him; a chance for him to rest, a relaxing time to get his hair and makeup done, able to get perfectly dolled up just for him to ruin it all during his shows. 

But that’s not the reasoning at all— rather, his reasoning lies with the pretty makeup artist who, unfortunately, is not tending to him today. 

It takes a bit of enjoyment out of the experience— however, he will say that he’s not complaining about the view he’s getting now, watching the way you tend to Kai and touch his face as though he’s made of glass with a fond smile; before he can control himself, his eyes fall to the cute skirt you’re wearing today, a tug of guilt hitting his stomach at the way he feels slightly disappointed upon the realization that they have built-in safety shorts— what can he say? It was always a total accident when he looked over to you bent over, pretty ass on display as you worked diligently on the member assigned. 

Hueningkai, Taehyun notices, definitely isn’t faring well with your proximity to him. Unlike Taehyun, who’s always dying to get his hands on you and keep you to himself, Hueningkai has always preferred to watch from a distance— so to have you here, taking over his senses with the alluring perfume you use and feeling your delicate fingers brush against his skin as you do his makeup— well, safe to say Hueningkai is practically meditating to not pop a boner then and there. 

“___, have you been busy? I barely see you around anymore,” Taehyun asks, peeking up from his phone and over to the next chair where you continue to meddle with Hueningkai, standing back to observe your work before you’re jumping at the sound of your name. 

“Well, I’ve been assigned to the rookie group the company debuted, you know,” you sigh out, having had this conversation more times than you can remember as you reach to brush away a stray hair from Hueningkai’s forehead; you watch as his eyes flutter shut and his brows twitch, and you wonder if you may have irritated him as you press your lips together. 

“That’s unfair…” Taehyun pouts softly, pretending as though his phone is much more interesting as he continues to sneak glances at you, eyes darkening at how cute you look while concentrating, not paying attention to Taehyun’s words as you begin applying lip tint to Hueningkai, “They’re taking my makeup artist away from me, I don’t like this one bit.”

“I’m not your makeup artist,” you fuss, sighing in exasperation as you take a step back from Hueningkai; you tell him to open his eyes as you take in the final result, smiling softly in satisfaction as you observe your work on him— looking at Taehyun, you cross your arms, frowning at the way you catch him staring at you already, “I’m the company’s makeup artist. Who I get assigned to work on is entirely up to them, so I don’t get why you’re acting like this right now.”

“Is it wrong to want a pretty girl to do my makeup?” He asks, and your face twists as you watch his current makeup artist throw an incredulous glance your way— just as you’re about to turn and leave, you’re surprised to find Hueningkai grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to him. 

“My hair,” he mumbles quietly, so soft you almost missed it— you lean down to try and hear him better, unaware of the way his eyes dart down to your low neckline and your lips that pout in concentration, “Can you fix it? It’s… different now.”

As far as you’re concerned, he looks completely fine; you’re quick to tell him that as well, only to see as he insists that it was different before you worked on his makeup. 

“Well if you want, I can go get your hairdresser—“ you begin, only to stop short at the feeling of Hueningkai’s grip tightening slightly. 

“But you can do it, no?”

God, these two were impossible. 

Their behavior was nothing new to you, and you oftentimes found yourself the victim of teasing as your coworkers poked fun at the way the two seemed to be attached to you like lost puppies— you always tried to refute such claims, but the way they constantly wanted you around them really didn’t help. 

“You can do it, ___,” Taehyun says, and you feel a bit bad for his makeup artist as he moves to look at you, “Gives us an excuse to keep you here a bit longer.”

Out of the two, Taehyun is much more blunt— but that doesn’t mean you’re used to it, feeling your face grow hot at his words as you attempt once more to run away— it’s all in vain of course, because Hueningkai is tugging you back and giving you a look that almost makes your knees buckle.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this.

“Please.”

Nothing about that is a request. He looks up at you with lidded, dazed eyes, and you find yourself complying hesitantly the longer he looks at you like he’ll devour you any second. You don’t even know what he wants his hair to look like— so you go with his usual ruffled look, his long dark hair soft under your fingers as you stand in front of him and run through the locks with mousse. 

You try to keep a straight face the whole time; even when Taehyun continues to make baiting comments at you, complimenting you with a deep purr as he tries to get your attention back on him— even as you feel the way Hueningkai can’t take his eyes off you, much bolder than usual as you bite your lip and hover over him, quick hands desperate to finish his styling. 

Your hands freeze in his hair as you feel something warm on the back of your thigh. 

That something warm serves as Hueningkai’s hand, resting on your skin as he simply continues to look up at you innocently, chewing his gum and tilting his head as though to ask what’s wrong? 

You try to contain the shiver that runs through you as his thumb begins to softly caress your skin, venturing under the cloth of your safety shorts for a moment before he’s moving it back down.

“Something wrong?” Taehyun drawls out, and a glance at him shows that his makeup artist has left— it’s just you three, and your brows knit together as you take in the way his makeup isn’t done yet, “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You’re shaken out of your reverie at his words; putting the finishing touches, you step away from Hueningkai, feeling the way his hand is reluctant to leave your skin, his arm falling limply at his side as he stares at you with hungry curiosity. 

“I think I’m done here,” you breathe out, attempting to hide your shaky hands as you place them behind your back, “Make sure you’re changed and ready in time for the show.”

Bowing politely, you make your way to the exit— only to be stopped the moment you pass Taehyun, an exasperated sound leaving you involuntarily as he takes your hand and tugs you back to him. 

“Are you done?” he asks, sparkly eyes not enough to conceal his mischief as he tilts his head to the side, “There’s nothing missing here?”

Of course something is missing. Taehyun doesn’t have his lip tint on, but you refuse to point it out as you hum softly, pretending to be in thought for a second before you finally shake your head no.

“No?” he pouts— he’s then puckering his lips, nodding his head toward you and sending you a kiss as he smiles coyly, “Are you sure?”

“You seem to be missing…” you grit out, watching as he raises his brows expectantly, as though encouraging you to finish your train of thought, “Your lip…tint.”

“Oh. You think so?” he asks, looking back at the mirror and swiping a finger across his lips before he hums, “Could you do it for me, please? I’ve always loved how you left my lips all pretty.”

You’re inhaling slowly to not turn on your heels and run away— not because you don’t want to do your job, but because you’re anxious about what might happen if you’re left alone in a room with these two for a moment longer; all you know is that if the way they look at you serves as any indicator, then they’re definitely up to no good.

“My lips always look like candy with the combo you use,” he continues, watching as you go to the vanity to search for the products you usually use for him— after a moment, you’re turning to him, products in one hand a small lip brush in the other— your eyes meet his, and you’re slightly startled with the way he suddenly leans forward, eerily close to you as his eyes flicker down to the way your lips part in a silent gasp, “Don’t you think so?”

“I’ve never thought of it like that,” you mutter swiftly, immediately getting to work in hopes that Taehyun can just shut up for once— he does, but you’re still left at the mercy of his intense stare, trying to pretend as though his proximity isn’t enough to make you feel nervous.

“You look really pretty today ___,” It’s Hueningkai’s turn to torment you— if you weren’t so focused on Taehyun, you would’ve scoffed, opting instead to let out a noncommittal hum instead. 

“Are you doing anything after the show?”

He says that as you’re finally stepping away from Taehyun; silently, you’re happy for the timing of his words, because you know that you would’ve messed up Taehyun’s makeup from your surprise— which would’ve meant you staying longer to fix it. 

“No,” you say, refusing to elaborate even if their curious stares silently plead you to— turning around, you continue to ignore them as you put your stuff away, pretending as though you weren’t rushing in hopes to leave quicker. 

“Taehyun and I are going out for drinks after to celebrate the end of the tour,” He says quietly, and you make the mistake of looking up at him through the mirror— he’s looking at you of course, though the way his dark makeup only makes his eyes look more intense doesn’t help you at all— softly, he smiles. 

“You should come with. Our treat.”

“Oh, I— I don’t know, I don’t wanna be a bother,” you stutter out, your nonchalant demeanor beginning to slip the moment you see them stand up behind you, shaky hands rushing to zip your makeup case shut, “I should really get going now, you two still need to change—“

“Yeah, but what’s the rush?” You’re fucking trapped— they stand on either side of you, looming dangerously and looking at you as though you’re nothing but a treat for them to devour— you can feel their breaths fanning on each side of your neck as you attempt to close yourself off pathetically, trying to take a step back before you feel two hands on you— one on the small of your back, the other on your hip as they both push you back against the vanity; the startled yelp you let out is embarrassing, your hands flying down to support yourself from how firmly they push you forward. 

“We have well over an hour to finish getting ready,” Taehyun breathes out, lips brushing against your jaw as he lets out a soft sigh, “And that’s a lot of time, isn’t it?”

Hueningkai hums in agreement; his hand is the one on your hip as it rubs soothing circles, leaning down to where you hang your head and sending you a misleading smile.

“We should do something to pass the time.”

God, were they always this close? They’re filling your senses and making you dizzy, your hands beginning to ache from how hard you’re gripping the edge of the vanity as you simply gulp in response. Their lips are soft and fucking sticky from the gloss you just put on them, leaving kiss marks along your skin as they kiss you softly, mumbling compliments and praise that you can barely get through your head from how dizzy you feel. 

“Do you know that we try to request you for every show?” Taehyun asks, watching the way your eyes flutter shut as Hueningkai begins to trail kisses down your neck, open-mouthed and sultry as he nips at your skin teasingly, “Some bullshit about you knowing our complexion best— don’t get us wrong, you do, but…”

“You’re like a lucky charm,” Hueningkai finishes for him, pulling away and bringing a hand up to grab at your chin, tilting you to look at him as he stares at you with lidded eyes, “The show won’t go well if our pretty makeup artist isn’t here with us.”

You whimper— and shit, it’s humiliating, your cheeks growing hot immediately after as you wish nothing more than to dig a hole for yourself then and there— but oh, their words are so hypnotizing to you, speaking about you like you’re something they can’t live without, touching you like they’re starved and desperate to get a taste.

And judging by the way they look at you, they definitely are. 

“Sometimes… we wonder if it’s enough, just getting a look at you before we go on stage,” Hueningkai says, and it’s Taehyun’s turn to nod along and leave teasing touches, his hand playing with the hem of your shirt as he noses at your throat, taking in your scent with a satisfied sigh.

“I think it’d be nice if you wished us luck tonight,” Hueningkai says, tilting his head as he gives you a puppy-eyed look, “Don’t you wanna?”

Fuck. You can’t think straight, not when they’re taking up your space, unable to keep their hands and lips off you as they wait not-so-innocently for your response. Shutting your eyes, you try to move past the warm and welcoming feeling of their hands to think.

“This is dangerous,” you finally spit out, biting your lip at the way they immediately back off, “You could get in trouble— I could lose my job.”

“Oh please,” Taehyun scoffs, sitting back against the vanity as he crosses his arms, “The company doesn’t care about what we do in our private life— you’ve seen the way the others can get with their little groupies, right?”

You mull over his words for a second; it’s no secret that this band is very active and reckless, though you suppose the company has taken advantage of that and began to use it as their image halfway through their career— at least, that must be the case if they’re able to advance on you so boldly, the rest of your coworkers unfazed by the whole situation. 

“But— my job—?”

“You think none of these other people that work here haven’t fooled around with their groups?” Taehyun asks, the incredulous smile on his face quickly turning to a pout as he coos at the innocent, wide-eyed look you give him, “They know how to keep a secret, pretty— so do we.”

This is ridiculous— even more so because you find yourself considering it, quickly shaking your head upon the sobering realization— though, the two are keen to notice the way you have yet to try and scurry away from them like always. 

“Don’t you feel tired of being so uptight all the time?” Huening asks, your head snapping up to watch as he places his hands on your shoulders, hovering behind you as he massages them gently, “We could help you relax. Have some fun, even.”

The two try to keep it cool the moment you lean into Hueningkai’s touch— though, you can still pick up on the way Taehyun’s eyes widen and Hueningkai’s hands freeze for just a second, your eyes threatening to shut from the way you remain too shy to gauge their reactions. 

“Won’t someone come in?”

In response, they laugh— poor thing, they think, glancing back at the door that got locked long ago, if they were finally going to get their hands on you, the last thing they would do is allow someone else to see. 

“No one will come in right now— we’re supposed to be changing, aren’t we?” Hueningkai says, smiling against your skin as he continues, “It’d be an invasion of privacy to try and come in now.”

They grin at the way you remain silent, clearly lost in thought by their words.

“Want us to treat you good?” Taehyun asks, placing a hand on your waist before he’s leaning in, his lips brushing against yours as he lets out a shaky breath, “Thank you for your hard work?”

Finally you break. 

“Please.”

Taehyun is a messy kisser— though, you don’t find yourself to be too surprised, always more eager out of the two to get his hands on you as he begins to kiss you with abandon— his hand cupping your jaw to keep you close, tongue prodding your mouth open and sharp teeth sinking into your plush lips teasingly; behind you, Hueningkai has moved his hands to your hips, pulling you back and forcing your back to arch as you feel him begin to rut his cock into you slowly, dark eyes taking in the way you only whine and moan under their touch. 

“Fuck, let me use those pretty hands, baby,” Taehyun sighs against your lips, guiding you down to his hard bulge and smiling against your lips the moment you begin to palm him; you’re slow and unsure with your movements, but that only makes Taehyun needier as he begins to rut his length against your palm, eager to get stimulation as he places his hand on top of yours to guide you to hold him through his sweats.

“Is playing hard to get fun for you?” Hueningkai asks, his voice low and rough as he plays with the hem of your shorts, pulling at the waistband before letting it go and allowing it to snap against your skin, “I can feel you soaking through your shorts— so fucking needy, why have you been avoiding us so long?”

You don’t have half the brain to answer that question; not when Taehyun has slipped your hand under his sweats and Hueningkai currently pulls down your skirt, leaving you exposed as you hold Taehyun’s cock and allow him to fuck into your first with shaky breaths against your lips. 

Trying to avoid them was such a stupid decision— because if it meant you could have these two boys like this sooner, drunk off your touch and desperate to take even more from you, you would’ve given in to their cheeky comments and shameless flirting long ago. 

Hueningkai’s fingers are slender and long as they glide up and down your slit; pressing against your panties, taking in the way you’ve soaked through them with a deep satisfaction as he lets out a breathy laugh. His middle and ring finger press at your entrance, listening to the way you whine and almost letting out a groan at the way you wiggle your hips and press them back in hopes of feeling him inside you. 

“Waited so long for this,” Hueningkai breathes out, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulling them down sloowwly, watching as you whine impatiently before you’re stepping out of your garments— You pull away from Taehyun, staring down at the way he bucks into your fist and missing the way he bites his lip to suppress a laugh at the sight of Hueningkai pocketing your soaked panties. 

“Wanted to fuck you the moment you got assigned to us— our pretty makeup artist,” Hueningkai sighs, placing a kiss in between your shoulder blades before he’s fucking his fingers into you, jaw clenching at the way you suck in his fingers and tighten around him pathetically, the wet sounds that come from his shallow thrusts enough to have your head hanging with pleasure. 

“Do you…” you sigh, letting out a soft whine as Taehyun takes a handful of your hair and forces your head back up, clearing your throat in a weak attempt to continue as the said man now begins to kiss and suck softly at your neck, careful to not leave any marks, “Do this to… fuck, every crew member you think is attractive? Mess with them shamelessly and try to corner them so you can finally fuck them? …Hmm?”

Hueningkai’s index finger is tracing your entrance teasingly— he laughs softly at your comment, choosing not to say anything as he stretches you out with a third finger instead; he’s curling his fingers and grinding his hand into your cunt, taking in your expression with hungry eyes and noting the places that make your legs shake. 

“You think we do this to just anyone?” Taehyun asks, brows furrowed as he pulls away, taking in the way you wince at his appearance— more specifically, his lip tint that has smudged all over his lips and chin and onto your skin, “Baby, I hope you realize that you’re the first person we’ve ever pulled this shit on.”

“And the last,” Hueningkai chimes in, looming over your shoulder as he bites at your earlobe teasingly, his other hand circling your waist to rub at your clit, “We plan to keep you.”

God. You hope he didn’t notice the way you clenched pathetically from his words, but judging by the way he laughs breathily and fucks his fingers harder into you, he definitely did. 

“Shit, what aren’t these hands good for?” Taehyun asks, watching the way you pump along his length and reach up to swipe the precum that leaks from his tip, spreading it along the rest of his length as you watch the way your hand glistens and becomes messy from your actions, “You have no idea how much I thought about this— always felt so guilty watching as you did my makeup so innocently, unaware that I’d give up my job if it meant I could— I could bend you over this vanity and fuck you good.”

“Did you ever fantasize about us?” Hueningkai teases, only to be surprised by the way you nod your head frantically, eyes shutting from embarrassment as you grind your hips back into him, just to get a feel of his cock against your ass, “Yeah? What’d you think about? Maybe we could make it happen.”

You shake your head no— you’re reluctant to spew out your fantasies as easily as the two are, but that only proves to be a mistake from the way Hueningkai’s fingers slip out of you, instead landing down harshly on your ass as you jump at the sudden feeling. 

“What, too shy to tell us?” Taehyun asks, placing a hand on top of your own and making you slow to a stop as he examines your face, “Then again, you’ve always been a shy little thing— it’s your charm, you know.”

You can only let out a pathetic whimper at that; Taehyun is shaking your hand off him, your eyes fluttering open as you watch him tuck himself back in, giving you a sly smile before he’s sitting back down in his chair— Hueningkai is taking a step back, but it’s only to bend you over as he lets out a soft chuckle at your reaction— nodding to Hueningkai, Taehyun grins, his dimple poking at his cheek as he speaks.

“You first, Kai? I’ll give you the honors for being so patient.”

Your mouth is falling open the moment you feel his tip glide along your entrance— going up and down, clearly teasing you as he allows your wetness to collect on his dick, forcing you to listen to the sounds as you let out a shaky sigh, staring down at the vanity and your tense hands that are curled into fists— slowly, he begins to push into you, enjoying the way you bite your lip in an attempt to muffle your sounds, failing to do so as Hueningkai resorts to the next best thing— his hand is firm against your mouth as he holds your head up, your eyes meeting his through the mirror as you watch him begin to fuck you slowly.

The stretch has you blinking away tears of pleasure— if it weren’t for Hueningkai keeping you quiet, you’re sure you would’ve gotten the attention of the rest of the crew, your sounds muffled against the palm of his hand as your body begins to jolt forward from his pace, the vanity shaking slightly from the impact. 

“Fuck,” Hueningkai grunts, brows furrowed together as he watches himself disappear inside you, “So perfect. Pussy was made for me, look how good you take it.”

The two only laugh as you let out a weak whine at the praise— they’ve got you figured out good, and you’re meeting Taehyun’s gaze through the mirror as you catch him staring at you, stroking his cock at a slow pace as he simply gives you a teasing grin.

“Why don’t you watch the way Huening fucks you, pretty?” He asks, and your eyes flicker back to the sight he’s talking about, meeting Huenigkai’s eyes as he simply sends you a coy smile, “You look so perfect like this— bent over the desk like a pretty doll, perfect for us to use… isn’t that right?”

Before you can moan out a muffled response, a sharp knock on the door takes your attention; you’re jolting to try and get Huening off you in a hurry, but the boy merely retaliates by pulling you back against him, colliding against his chest and letting out a weak whimper at the feeling of him rutting his hips up into you— watch, he growls into your ear, grinning with satisfaction as you immediately follow his orders.

“Yeah?” Taehyun calls out, his tone much too casual for someone who’s watching his fellow band member fuck the cute staff member the two have been pining for. 

“Have you seen ___ anywhere? The makeup artist?” It’s Soobin, you all realize, your reaction of horror greatly contrasting the way the two merely smile casually at the realization, “They’ve been looking for her, and I thought you two would know where she might be.”

“Uhhhhm…” Taehyun draws out, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he watches the way Hueningkai continues to fuck you, fingers digging into your cheeks as his eyes widen at the way you’ve begun to squirm from his grip, your orgasm approaching as you try to grind your hips in search for more stimulation. 

“If we knew where she was at, we’d probably be there bothering her,” Taehyun jokes, a crooked smile on his face as he listens to the way Soobin scoffs on the other side, “But seriously, we’re changing right now. She finished our makeup a while ago, we haven’t seen her.”

A moment passes; you think you might explode from how hard you’re trying to hold back your orgasm, but Hueningkai seems to be hellbent on making you cum from the way his free hand goes to circle your clit, your mouth falling open as you practically shake from the feeling. 

“Well…” another pause— Soobin sighs, and Taehyun can already picture the man running a hand through his hair on the other side of the door, “Let me know if you find her.”

After a moment, his footsteps fade entirely— it’s only then that Hueningkai bends you over once more, grabbing your hips and using this as leverage to fuck you back into him as you whimper that you’re close— seconds after, you’re squeezing Hueningkai so hard he thinks his cock might slip out, fucking you through your orgasm as your legs simply tremble from the intensity of it all. 

“Did that get you off, baby?” Hueningkai murmurs, his hips beginning to stutter as he watches you lay against the desk, your cheek pressed against the wood as you only let out weak whines in response, “Knowing we were about to get caught? Is that what made you cum, cutie?”

In a pathetic attempt to dodge his question, you bury your head in your arms— the man behind you simply laughs, pressing on the small of your back and grinding into you slowly, biting his lip at the sight. 

“Want me to cum inside? Fill you up and have it leak down your legs, making people wonder just where you disappeared to for so long?” frantically, you nod; you’re pressing your ass back against him, trying to fuck back into him as Hueningkai only groans at the sight— moments later, you’re practically biting through your lip from the feeling of him filling you up so well, trying his best to fuck his cum back into you the moment it begins to drip back out. 

A moment passes where the two of you simply remain still, attempting to regain your breaths— then, you hear sounds of shuffling and footsteps, and you’re meekly raising your head from your arms to watch as Taehyun approaches the two of you with a teasing smile.

“You should go get cleaned up and change,” Taehyun says, tapping your ass with a smile, “It’s my turn now, isn’t that right baby?”

Hueningkai rolls his eyes at the other’s antics— then, he’s slowly pulling out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s grabbing your face and bringing you up for a kiss— it’s slow and sensual, his plump lips addicting as he sneaks his tongue in for a taste of you— he’s reluctant to pull away, and only does so when you grip his shirt in your hands weakly and whine petulantly in his mouth— pulling away, he’s sending you a soft smile, taking in the sight of your shining and swollen lips before he’s telling you I’ll be right back— Taehyun rolls his eyes at his words. 

“Tell me,” Taehyun begins, bending you over once more and keeping his head next to yours, encouraging you to hold eye contact with him as he smiles softly— his index and middle finger are slowly massaging up and down your slit, and you let out a weak whimper at the feeling of him gathering the cum that’s leaking out of you before he’s pushing it back in slowly, “What would you fantasize about? I’d love to try it out on you.”

He won’t do anything until he hears your confession— a sign that you really did want them all along, forcing himself to tease you instead as he takes in the way you begin to break slowly, your hips attempting to chase pleasure, only to be stopped by Taehyun’s firm grip on your hip. 

“I could do so many things to you,” he mutters softly, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder before he continues, “All you have to do is tell me.”

Fuck, where do you even begin? All the things you’ve ever thought about these two boys were reserved for the dark hours of the night when you couldn’t control your wandering mind, never to be revealed as you always told yourself you’d take this attraction to your grave— but now, as you feel Taehyun’s fingertips continuously dip into your entrance teasingly, able to feel the way some of Hueningkai’s cum has already run down your thighs, you really can’t be blamed for the way Taehyun’s sparkling doe eyes are able to extract the words from you without a second thought.

“Thought of riding you while I did your makeup,” you whimpered out pathetically, the confession enough to make your face feel like it was on fire— Taehyun, however, thinks the image might just make him cum on the spot, so he doesn’t have it in him to be apologetic as he quickly guides you back to his makeup chair and makes you hover over him.

“Well? What’re you waiting for?” He asks breathlessly, straddling his lap and staring down at him with wide eyes as he keeps his hands on your waist, having yet to find release as he feels his cock straining painfully against his sweats, “Now’s your chance, cutie.”

You stare at Taehyun— at his smudged makeup, his flushed cheeks, and his eyes that are blown open with need— and nod meekly, your hand reaching to take him out before you’re lining him up with your entrance, brows furrowing slightly as you properly take in his size.

That does little to hinder you; the way you sink on Taehyun is fucking painfully slow, and the said man is cursing in your ear as he feels the way you clench around him, your and Hueningkai’s release already coating his dick and making a mess of the chair as you stare at him with bleary eyes. 

“Don’t you need to fix my makeup?” Taehyun asks, his voice a bit strained from the effort to not pound into you recklessly— cluelessly, you nod, your expression making Taehyun let out a breathy laugh, “Do what you need to— I’ll do all the hard work, pretty thing.”

You’re unsure of what he may mean until he’s nodding back at the makeup case behind you— letting out a soft oh, you reach for your supplies, shaky hands taking what you need before you’re turning back to Taehyun. 

His hands are on the swell of your ass, smiling fondly at you before he begins to buck his hips up into you— softly at first, giving you the illusion that he’ll actually let you work, then becoming rougher as he watches the way your expression breaks, coherence leaving your eyes as you simply look at him with bleary, clueless eyes— your actions are oh so slow as you try to touch up on his makeup, trying your best to not make things worse than they already are— but the task seems to be impossible with the way Taehyun fucks you, biting his lip and guiding your hips up and down to get you to ride him as well, already noticing a second orgasm building up from the way you help him out eagerly. 

“Tyun,” you whimper out, makeup supplies in your fists as you place them firmly on his chest, “This isn’t working— I can’t… ah…!”

You’re interrupted mid-sentence as you’re finally coming undone on top of him— the makeup supplies in your hands dig into your skin from how hard you grip onto them, a weak, choked moan escaping you as Taehyun only continues to fuck you through it, not slowing down even after you’ve ridden out your high, going back to whining that you can’t do it, it’s too hard— too much.

“Yes you can,” he grins, taking in the way you only shake your head with satisfaction, “Okay then, can you hold out until I cum then? Can you be good for me, pretty girl?”

You don’t hesitate to nod at that; it has Taehyun laughing before it’s choked off into a moan, finally able to use you to his liking as he begins to fuck you rougher— shit… you hear him groan, and one look at him is enough to tell you that he’s staring at the sight in the mirror behind you— taking in how pretty you look as you bounce on his cock, hands desperately holding onto him as you tuck your head into his shoulder— The feeling of your lips sucking absentmindedly at his skin is enough to set him off, bottoming out inside you and groaning at the way his cum spurts inside you, barely able to stay in from how full you already are. 

Gradually, his pace slows down to nothing but a slow grind— you’re attempting to regain your breath once you finally sit up, still perched prettily on his cock as you begin to touch up his makeup with shaky hands. 

“Hmm? That’s unfair,” Hueningkai’s sudden voice has your head snapping up, looking to where he stands as he taps a finger at his collarbone, “Why didn’t I get one of those?”

Your eyes widen as you’re turning back to Taehyun at break-neck speed— sure enough, you’ve left a mark, and you can already feel your stomach sinking at the thought of having to cover that up. 

“Relax, our outfits are pretty covered,” Taehyun scoffs, reading your expression with a playful roll of his eyes, “But I wouldn’t really mind having others see it.”

“No fair, can I get one?” Hueningkai pouts, even more so when you deny him shyly, focusing on your task and pretending as though you’re currently not sitting firmly on Taehyun’s cock with both their cum leaking out of you.

“Baby,” Hueningkai calls out softly, making you turn your head as he captures you in another kiss— it’s even messier than last time, which you really didn’t think was possible as you’re left panting for breath once he pulls away, your eyes widening at the lopsided grin he sends you. 

“Fix my makeup next?”

Fuck, they’ll miss their damn show at this point. 

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #taehyun x reader #taehyun imagines #taehyun oneshot #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #taehyun smut #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai oneshot #hueningkai smut

[grippingbeskar]

two is hardly a crowd

— john price x fem!reader

— warnings: explicit content minors dni (age gap, mxf, dirty talk) swearing, mention of death and injury

— a/n: i’m so in love with this man. oh my god.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?” You say through the door, knocking a few times.

“Come in.” He calls back, and you try to still your hand as it reaches for the doorknob. Every time he calls for you, you can’t predict what will happen. Some times he’s all work no play, giving you assignments like he does the rest of the 141 with a straight face and serious look in his eyes.

Other times, it’s… less business, more pleasure. He smiles more, offers you a drink. Jokes with you. Flirts… you think, but you weren’t entirely sure Price meant it. You don’t have the most experience with this kind of thing, but he certainly isn’t having those kinds of meetings with Soap or Ghost. He doesn’t compliment them at all, let alone sweet talk them like he does to you. It’s only really when you’re between missions, and almost always when everyone else has gone out for the night or gone off base. He knows you don’t leave even on off days— Price is observant, and the only other one who stays, too.

Swallowing, you push the door open. You know everyone’s gone home this break— Gaz just left last night, and he was only here this long because he couldn’t get a flight out. Now, you knew it was just you and the Captain. It made you as nervous as it did excited, considering the embarrassing crush you were nursing for him.

“I really hope you aren’t telling me I have to spend the year locked up in the cockpit of a jet.” Taking a seat in front of him, you watch the curl of his mouth form around a lit cigar. He leans back, and your eyes are drawn to the stark lack of papers or files open on his desk. All of them are stacked in piles. All closed cases.

“Nothin’ like that, don’t worry.” You watch him closely as he pours himself a glass of scotch. Then, he pushes the full one towards you. “How you holdin’ up?”

“Fine.” You reply, trying not to think too hard about the last few weeks. It was rough— all your missions are, but the burn of the scotch now going down your throat and the undivided attention from Price makes it a bit easier to forget. “Starting to understand why you all drink so much, though.”

“You did well out there, not that you need me tellin’ you.” He looks at you under the brim of his hat, still sandy from the return. You wonder if he ever washes that thing, or if he’s superstitious, like it’ll wash the luck off or something. “All the boys were impressed. So was I.”

“Thank you, Captain.” You try to hide the obvious heat that spreads to your body, nearly making you squint. Of course it was good to be recognised, but hearing it from him. ‘So was I’. You impressed him. “Is— was there something you needed me to do?”

“Just hate to think of you wastin’ your off time in the barracks. I’m not takin’ the jet, so I was gonna offer it to you. Get out of here for a bit, see your family.” The sentiment was sweet, and the idea that he was thinking of you nearly overshadowed his offer.

“I appreciate it, but I don’t… see my family. Besides, I’m not a big fan of flying. I like to avoid it, when I can.” The fact you’d just spent almost a month flying between bases and never said a thing makes Price lean forward, eyebrows raised. It was a stupid fear to have, but it was there nonetheless.

“Take a car, then. Go see— something. Anything.” His forearms were on the table, leaning toward you. His shoulders are slumped slightly, about as relaxed as he gets.

“You trying to get rid of me, Captain?” He laughs dryly, taking the cigar out of his mouth again to finish off his drink. You follow him, needing the liquid courage.

“Course not, love. You just shouldn’t be hangin’ around here at your age. Let us old guys sit and rot, but you— go live a little.” Almost choking on your drink, you bite down on your bottom lip as you swallow. Love. Love. Fucking hell, you’ve been less tense while staring at the barrel of a shotgun.

“You aren’t that old.” You say meekly, dropping your gaze from his intense one.

“Don’t change the subject.” His voice is dripping with authority, one that simultaneously drops you into line and makes you need to shift on your seat. “Why are you still here?”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” That shuts him up for a second. Your family probably thinks you’re dead— if they know you’re alive, they don’t care enough to check in. Any friends you had drifted away when you became too hard to reach, missing birthdays and never coming home for holidays— always working. Once you joined the 141, they stopped trying completely. You didn’t mind. You only wanted to focus on your job. The next mission. Keeping people safe. These guys were all the family you needed. Plus, Price was here.

It was hard to find a good enough reason to leave him, and the kindness he always showed you was ten times more than you’d get if you really went home. It was more than enough to feed your ridiculous crush on him, too, which you couldn’t figure out if it was a good or a bad thing.

“Ah.” He says after a while, and then fills up your glass. The action mixed with the subtle uncomfortable look on his face, like he’s not sure what to do, makes you laugh out loud. The sound seems to relax him again. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Well, why are you still hanging around base?” You take another sip, the honey flavour of the liquor easing the burning taste. “You’re not afraid of flying too, are you?”

“I think I’ve seen enough of the world by now. Happy where I am.” Before your heartbeat can catch up, he keeps talking. “Besides, the company’s not all bad.”

Your face gets so hot you think you might break out into a sweat. It was definitely one of those kinds of meetings. Your favourite. These kinds of talks with him, where you get to see the man under the title and pressure of the job. Price, as you’ve discovered, is smooth. A gentleman, of course, but such a sweet talker. You only ever see it here, alone with him, but you can never stop thinking about it when it happens.

“If it’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me.” You say, stumbling straight over his compliment. He makes you so confused— you’re usually straight as a steel blade. Impossible to bend, strong willed and focused. With him… you can’t even think. “But you… you don’t have anyone to go visit? You said you aren’t taking the jet. I’m sure your wife would be missing you.”

“If I had one, I’m sure she’d of left me by now.” You honestly hadn’t been sure if he had family. You had a feeling he did… look at him. There’s no way a man that looks like this, talks the way he does isn’t dodging women left right and centre. “When have people like us got the time for date nights, aye?”

“Soap does it. Gaz. It’s not impossible.” Your glass clanks against the wooden table as you set it down, and Price’s eyes seem to light up a little. “I mean… I’m sure you could find someone if you— if you wanted to.”

“You got me there.” He fakes a little surrender, his hands rising off the table. You almost didn’t realise how close he was until he sets them down again, fingers nearly brushing against your skin. “What makes you so sure?”

“You’re…nice.” He laughs, bringing the cigar back up to his mouth. You watch him intently, smoke curling and fogging in front of his face. Ash drops onto the desk, and his giant hands swipe it away quickly.

“Nice.”

“Mhmm.”

“That all?” Your throat feels dry. He was looking at you so closely. Like he could see through you, right to how fast your heart was beating. Like he could see your thoughts in a cloud above your head, as clear and thick as the smoke in front of him.

“Fishing for compliments, Captain?”

“It’s John.” You suck in a low breath at the sound of his first name. Your eyes nearly flutter shut. “And can you blame me? Pretty girl like you, maybe I could get some ideas since you wanna marry me off so quick.”

It was subtle. So like him, smooth and easy, but it hits you like a freight train. That cross of a line in such a short, stupid little sentence, but he knows he’s made a touch down when you smile and hide your face. You were a soldier, for fucks sake— but he had you blushing and smiling like you were a kid.

“I’m just saying, Ca—John. You are nice. You deserve something like that to go home to.” The sentence wasn’t well thought out, two glasses of scotch going straight to your head, but it was true.

God, how you have thought about being that for him. Let him come back from a long mission, take the stress out of his shoulders and have him really relax. He was always so on all the time, so much pressure running the team. He was fucking good at it too, which was worse for your crush on him. You just wanted to take care of him like he took care of everything for you and the team every single time—

“I think I’ve got all I need right here.” You blink up at him, hands gripping the side of your chair. His head is tilted slightly, a smirk on his face. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, love. Like I said, I’m exactly where I wanna be.”

His voice is low. Lower than before. Maybe you’re just drunk, but his eyes seem a little darker, too.

“On base with me, eating leftovers? Sounds like a real fun t—“

“Yeah. I want to be here with you.” You don’t take a breath for a good five seconds. Just let the confession hang in the air. It’s thick, full of smoke and tension, and the burn across your face is either from embarrassment or pure need.

He wanted to be here, alone, with you. Until now it was easy to sign all these passing comments and looks off to pure coincidence. Maybe even a lack of options, being one of the only straight females on base. But with the way he was looking at you now, it was anything but.

“Are you messing with me?” Your eyes nearly shut completely, suddenly feeling the warmth of his hand on yours. His covers you completely, thumb tracing along your knuckles. They’re still blue and green from the fading bruises of the last mission, and he pays extra care not to press to hard.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His eyes stay on your touching hands, the rough pads of his fingers drawing aimless lines on your skin. “I’m patient, but I’m only a man. Only so much time I can wait before I blow myself to bits keeping this to myself.”

“Keeping what to yourself ?” Your voice is hardly above a whisper.

“I’m your Captain.” He says like it’s a confession, and your heart is beating so fast he can probably hear it with those trained ears.

“I know that.” He makes a noise like he’s in pain, going to pull away, but you’re faster and catch his arm. “Tell me anyway.”

“It’s… you mean something to me. A lot. More than I can chalk up to just admiration. I want to take you out.” He says, his voice trained, like he’s using every ounce of bravery he’s got to get the words out. Only then does he finally look up at you, his pupils nearly overtaking his eyes. “I want to see you outside this place. I don’t wanna be looking over my shoulder every three seconds makin’ sure no one’s watching the way I’m staring at you. You’re in my head. Can’t get you out of it. I want to do this the real way. The right way.”

“I—“

“But if you don’t feel the same, you’ll never have to hear it again. Trust me. I’ll learn to live with it. I— it’d just kill me if I never asked.” He runs over your sentence, then leans back, taking a few puffs of the cigar like a reflex.

“You really aren’t messing with me?” Your hands were reaching out instinctively, missing his touch, as fleeting as it was.

“No, love. Just been working up the courage.” You were grinning like an idiot at his expression. The composed face of your Captain had folded in on itself, now replaced by the man you knew was underneath— admittedly a little more nervous than you were familiar with. “Is that… do you—“

“Oh! Yes. Yeah— fuck yes. I’d really like that.” Nodding rapidly, his head hangs back and he sighs a little in relief. Adjusting his hat, he watches you smile at him, fondness dancing in his eyes.

“Guess I wasn’t the only one thinking about it?” He asks, tilting his head.

“Nah. The foods just really shitty on base. I’d do anything for a good meal.”

“Ah. Of course.” He squints, smirking as you laugh. He takes another drag of the cigar, and you watch his mouth intensely— letting your eyes linger with the safety of his confession. “Well, can’t deny a pretty face like yours, can I?”

“In that case, I haven’t eaten since this morning.” You say, the words fumbling out of your mouth before you have a chance to reign them in.

“It’s nine o’clock, Private.” He chides, the tone of his voice making you squirm in your seat. “You wanna go now?”

“You’ve been patient enough, haven’t you?” Your leg bounces with all the extra energy you suddenly have, mind wiring with thoughts of where he would take you. He stands up, and you follow him, pushing your chair back as he clears the distance around the table in two steps.

Those giant black boots, ones he still hasn’t changed out of since coming back. They were tracking dirt and mud all over the hard wood floor, and you had a feeling he’s never had anyone tell him to take his shoes off before he came inside. Probably why he wears his camouflage jacket everywhere, too. You hate to imagine the state of his real place, wherever that may be. He keeps walking towards the door, unlocking it and nodding towards you.

“Come on, then. Better move if you want anything other than pizza.” He smirks, and you really could walk out the door. You could, and make him take you out to a nice dinner. He’d be sweet, and you know you’d probably ask him a thousand questions that he would answer without skipping a beat. And you want that— you do. You’d thought about it more times than you’d admit out loud. You’d get there.

But right now, you had too much adrenaline. It was like being on a mission— heart racing, antsy to just jump in with both feet and not look back. There was something about living the life you did that made you not want to wait for anything anymore. Now, you had been so, so patient with Price, because you had to be. But now it was right there in front of you, standing at the open door.

A kick in your step sends you right up to the door, your hand slowly pushing against his grip on it. It’s squeaky and obvious what you’re doing— and his eyebrows raise higher and higher, eyes flicking down to you when the lock clicks shut.

“Not hungry?” He rasps, taking a step closer to you. His hand drops from the door, settling gently on your hip.

“I have something else in mind.” Your hands fist in his jacket and you yank him forward, feeling his hand on your neck as you finally kiss him.

He doesn’t rush, taking his time to feel your mouth against his. Once he realises you don’t want to let him go, he drags his hand up your face, along your cheekbone, thumb tracing along your skin lightly. You push yourself up on your toes, wanting to be closer.

He grabs you a little harder, and you moan into his mouth when his hand tangles in your hair. He uses it as leverage, nearly pulling you off the ground. He’s wrapped his arm around your waist, and the warmth of his body against yours has you pulling on the hair that hangs out of his hat. He’s the one to make a sound now, letting out a low groan when you fist your hands and tug.

He tastes like expensive cigars and scotch, his mouth burning it’s way into your memory. Every time you look at him from now on all you’ll be able to think of is how he tastes, and how easily he’s taken over you. He towers over you, and with one hand still around your waist, the other tucks your hair behind your ear, a hint of something softer despite the neediness of both your movements. You hate it like that, always thinking you look off balance. It’s why you have your head shoved in a hat most days, but he seems to like it. He walks you backwards, away from the door, picking you up with a strong forearm under your ass until you feel your calves hit the hard wood of his desk. He presses close, only leaving your lips for a second to kiss along your jaw. When you whine and tug on his hair, he comes back up, and you can feel him smiling through it.

When you need to take a breath, reluctantly you lean back, eyes fluttering open when you feel his forehead press to yours. His hands cup your face, enveloping you in the feeling of him everywhere. The shadow of his body blocks out all the light in the room except for him, tunnel visioning him into focus.

“You have really pretty eyes.” You say before you can think, almost like some kind of trance had overtaken you. Price laughs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip lightly.

“Is that right?” You nod once, and he leans closer, his mouth lightly pressing its way along your neck. You squirm in his touch, needing more, but he only gets further away. “You have no idea how many times I thought about walkin’ down to your room and begging you to put me out of my misery.”

“Fuck, Price.” You tug him closer by the ends of his jacket, smiling when you feel his hands fall to your waist and his head pull back. “You should of. It’s so lonely in there.”

“Don’t play games with me.” He says lowly while you bat your eyes up at him, that authoritative tone rumbling through every word. “Your tuggin’ on my last string of control with that look.”

“Good. Maybe it’ll finally snap.” He groans, kissing you lightly.

“I should do this right. Take you out. Buy you flowers and dinner.” His hands begin to wander again, getting a little more daring, opposing the words he’s trying to talk himself out of. “You deserve it.”

“You could just propose, skip the twenty steps and get a ring.” He smiles again, finally, and even if it’s controlled and Captain like, it’s a smile. “Heard you army boys like to settle down pretty fast, anyways. That what you want?”

“Fucking hell. You really are trying to marry me off.” You shrug, and something much more intense is in his eyes now. It makes you tick into a higher gear, cogs turning faster and faster. “Can I kiss you again?”

Instead of answering, you bring both hands on either side of his face and yank him to you, moulding your mouth to his. It’s desperate, one lonley hand seeking another as he puts his palm over yours, then moves you seamlessly. You mould for him, standing as he hurls you up and into his arms, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist tight even when you feel the hard wood of the table under your thighs. He reaches behind you, one hand on your lower back rolling your hips towards him, the other now revealing his half finished cigar.

You want to roll your eyes, but he’s too overwhelming to think about anything else. The way he smells— smoke and old spice filling your senses. You can’t get enough of it, your arms wrapping around his neck, fingertips tracing up his neck. For a second you hesitate, feeling the material of his hat against your knuckles, but the slightest touch of your hand in his hair makes him groan into your mouth, and you throw all caution to the wind.

He kisses you a little rougher now. Keeping you still with one strong arm around your waist, he’s slowly uncoiling, strand by strenuous strand. His other hand is still occupied with his cigar, and you can’t figure out why he’s holding onto it right now until you hear something crash and hit the floor behind you.

“Jesus, Price.” You sigh into him, only opening your eyes for a second to see he’s shoved everything on his desk to the floor— ashtray shattered in pieces under your feet. Didn’t want to waste his damn cigar, but the countless files on his desk weren’t important enough to him.

He pulls back, your lips chasing him even though your lightheaded from a lack of oxygen. You open your eyes again, your arms still wrapped right around the back of his neck, and your head drops to the giant mess on the floor. Cigar still secured in his fingertips, both of his hands cup your face, forcing you to look at him. You’ve never seen him unwound. He’s your Captain— a man of control, someone who’s always three steps ahead of the enemy. But here, breathing hard and standing between your open legs, he looks fucking wild. His eyes are half shut, and he’s smiling like a fool, the sight making you feel even warmer with him this close to you.

“You are something else.” He murmurs against your mouth, making you smile.

“And you’re a fucking tease.” You kiss him again, and he nearly whines in his own protest as he pulls back. “John.”

“I know, love. I’ll take care of you.” He steps away a little, one hand dropping to the edge of the table. “Mind holding onto this f’me?”

He brings his other one up, the end of the cigar appearing in front of you. Instead of handing it to you, his thumb drags down against your lip, your mouth opening for him on the silent command. Dark eyes watching your every move, he puts the end of the cigar in your mouth, watching you take in the familiar taste of it. Of him. It sends a buzz through your veins now, the alcohol and feeling of him overloading your body. He lets his hand slip to your jaw, smirking at the way your teeth nearly bite into the end. Then, the asshole winks at you, and you almost choke on the smoke burning through your chest.

“There’s a good girl. Stay nice and still, yeah?” He presses a quick kiss on your cheek, watching as you nod slowly. Mesmerised. It’s taken about five minutes and a few well chosen words for one of his best soldiers to become a puddle in front of him. You knew it was a little embarrassing how quickly you lost your nerve with him, but he didn’t have to look so smug about it.

Just as you think you’ve recovered, he drops his hands, still staring at you as he expertly undoes your military pants. He doesn’t even have to look down, just watches how your eyes close, head falling back as he yanks them down your legs and his fingers hook into the fabric of your underwear.

You almost forget the cigar completely, moaning around the end of it as you feel him draw closer. The rough pads of his fingertips, hardened from years on the force, are gentle and soothing against the sensitive skin, and he plays with the seams sitting around where you are clearly edging him towards.

He’s not watching you anymore. No, now his eyes are occupied with the sight in front of him, just below your face. How your back is arched towards him, enticing him to move a little faster. Your legs spreading across his table, knuckles white as they grip the edge in anticipation. Then, there’s your fucking underwear. Price spits out a few curse words, then rips them away, tucking them into the pocket of his own pants.

“You wear that just to drive me insane?” His hands splay on your thighs, rising higher and higher. You hum around the cigar that’s growing heavier in your mouth. “That what you wear all the time? Pink and lace shit under all that gear?”

“Just hopin’ you’d take it off and find out.” You mumble, only half coherent with your mouth full. The comment seems to undo something in him, and his restraint frays as you finally, finally feel two of his fingers dragging slow, steady circles on your clit.

You crumble forward, hips shifting to seek out something a little faster, but his free hand holds you down. He kisses along your neck, down to his collarbone while setting you alight with his soft moving hands. As he dips just below there, in a place he knows will be hidden in your uniform, he spends time there. He listens to the little noises you make, how you say his name like it’s the only word you know. He fucking knows he has you right there— and he hasn’t even taken off his shirt.

“You are so gorgeous, baby. You know that?” His mouth is so hot and his fucking hands— they were playing you like a violin. Plucking all the right strings, a melody of pleasure played out of your mouth, interrupting his ramble. “Never gonna be able to keep my hands off you. Not when I know how sweet you sound.”

“Hmph.” You groan around the butt of the cigar, and he grins a little mockingly, cooing as he takes the cigar from your nearly open mouth.

“There you go, did real good for me. Need to hear you louder though, princess.”

“Please, Price.” Your hips buck, and his fingers dip lower, teasing.

“You ask me, it’s yours.” He whispers, then bends down to press one long, bruising kiss to your lips, one you take greedily.

“I need you.” He kisses you, humming low into your mouth, then you feel one of his strong fingers curl inside of you. “Ohh— fuck.”

“You’re alright darlin’. That’s it.” He whispers in your ear, and your mind focuses only on the sweet adoring touches of his free and and his mouth and the coil tightening low in your stomach.

Everything is only him— the roughness of his hands subsided by the gentle graze of their touch, exploring all the parts of you he’s telling you he’s dreamed about. His other hand, finding the places that make you scream the loudest, never letting up as your eyes roll backwards into your skull. His mouth— god, that fucking mouth. The way he’s talking to you, telling you all the ways he’s imagined you spread out for him, how long he wants to take with you, how hard he is for you, only you.

Your hands reach towards him, sliding down his toned chest, along the lines of his jacket until you blindly caught on the waistband of his jeans. You could feel yourself slipping into that blissful heat low in your stomach, but you wanted him to fall with you. As much as he was talking, you were just as desperate to get your hands on him, even if you couldn’t articulate words right now.

“You don’t ha—fucking hell.” He growls, kissing you harshly as your hands slip into his pants and palm him through his boxers. “I’m not gonna last. You’re fucking me up real good, princess.”

“J-Just let me make you feel good, too.” You blink your eyes open, pleasure skittering up your spine. He pumps his fingers inside of you faster, skilled in a way your brain can’t compare to anything else. The rough skin of his palm drags across your clit with every move, sending your hips into a roll in search of more— greedily chasing whatever he’d give you.

When you finally feel him, hot and heavy in your hand under his boxers, you can feel he wasn’t lying. He’s a fucking mess— a choked moan shocking through him as your thumb gently swipes across his tip. When you pull away he looks up from where his head dropped on your shoulder, eyes only half open to watch you spit in your hand, and then return to wrap your fingers around him, pumping him slowly.

“Ohh, fuck. That’s good. Fuck, that’s so good.” He praises, hot breath kissing your neck and collarbone. You could tell he liked to talk, but it wasn’t even the words he was saying that was sending you spiralling helplessly anymore. It was the noises.

Desperate, nearly whining as you tighten your grip, matching the pace of his two, strong fingers curling inside you. You felt boneless— foreheads pressed together as you watched each other fall apart from just the others hands. You weren’t much better, high pitched, girlish sounds that had nothing of the trained solider in them. Just a girl, spread out on her Captains desk, exactly where she wants to be.

“So tight, baby. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock.” You hum, closing your eyes and imagining it. If he felt this thick in your hands, you couldn’t imagine how he’d feel in— “Gonna take you out to a nice dinner and then bring you home, fuck you in a real bed. Fuck… you think about this too?”

“A-all the— fuck, right there— all the time.” You manage, vision beginning to blur. “I’m so close, Price. Please.”

“Give it to me. Wanna feel how wet you get after you cum for me.” He groans. He switches so fast— low, heavy voice interrupted by slightly higher moans and a gasp. He’s so hard to keep up with, it melts your brain down to only the simplest of instructions. “Cum for me.”

You lose conscious control of your hand, only knowing to keep holding him like that as his hips buck, fucking into your palm. Pleasure takes over— zapping and skittering through your body, making your legs shake. His breathing gets faster, stuttered little gasps coming from him as he guides you through your orgasm, hand slowing to a soothing rhythm.

There was none of that softness for himself, though. No— he was nothing but hard and fast, using your hip as leverage to drag his length along the wet hold of your hand. The table creaks under his strength, and you wrap your free hard around his neck again to hold on tight, needing to see him through it.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls, and then covers your hand in warmth as he cums to the sight of you. His jaw is hanging open and you take the opportunity, kissing him desperately. He responds even with the pleasure clouding his thoughts, all tongue and teeth and feral sounds as his hips slowly still in your hand.

Both of you are reluctant to let go of each other, but you seemingly find yourselves at the same time as you both flinch at the touch of the other. You take your hand back first, sliding up along the lower contours of his abs. You’ve been obsessed with that part of him for so long, it’s nearly surreal to have it under your hand.

“You… Jesus Christ.” He breathes deep, his head falling to the crook of your neck. He kisses you affectionately, taking slow inhales like the taste of your skin will bring the oxygen back to his lungs. “That’s not what I thought this meeting was going to go like.”

“Funny.” You say softly, still searching for your voice. “It’s exactly what I had planned.”

He sits up at that, and you catch the look of him believing you— just for a second before he shakes his head, smirking.

“Alright, smart ass.” You laugh, tugging him to stand closer between your spread legs. “You okay?”

“Never better.” He kisses you softly again.

“You gonna let me take you out? Do this the proper way?” His hands hold your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into the skin. “Cause I meant it when I said I’m not keeping my hands off you now. I’m a man of my word.”

“Pizza is fine with me.” You smile, and he picks you up off the desk, but not before sneaking one lazy kiss while you’re up in his arms.

Pizza would be fine every night, you think as you quickly pull your pants back on and follow him out the door, still seeing the light pink fabric of your underwear sticking out his back pocket.

#john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain price x y/n #john price #captain price #captain price smut #price smut #cod fic #mw2 x reader #cod mw2

[cho-aaacho]

—My Little Honey

Masterlist

Summary : Sometimes you have a wild thought about wearing one of Gojo's favorite sweaters, stealing his warmth, borrowing his kiss, or basking in all the beauty he shares. So this time, you've decided to steal his sweater. Who knows, he would love this?

"Sensei, could you pass this on to Gojo-sensei?"

"What's this?"

"His sweater. Ijichi-san did the laundry a few days ago, but he hasn't had the time to give it to him. Can you help me out? Thank you, sensei."

You just nodded as Megumi strolled in horror, still wondering why he acted like that all of a sudden. Megumi has always managed to keep his cool in front of everyone. So there's no chance he fears Gojo's presence, right?

A sigh escaped you as you observed Megumi running, chatting with Toge, Panda, and the others. It appeared they were engaged in some discussion, perhaps gossip or something stupid.

You noticed that those kids glanced at you before hurrying towards the entrance and disappearing into another atmosphere.

What could be going on in their minds? Were they scheming something absurd again?

But you're trying to forget all that.

They're likely plotting another scheme like they've been doing to you for the past two months. Like accidentally locking you and Gojo in the teacher's room, switching your sweater with his, or some other trivial prank.

You can't fathom why they're so foolish. Like, why on earth would they lock up Gojo in a room with you? Gojo can practically blow up the school if he wants.

"A sweater?"

You gaze in wonder at the paper bag, tilting your head for a better view. A black fabric with a baby blue gradient peeks out of it. Sending you a sweet memory deep in your mind when smelling the softener.

Seated on the bench, you ponder for a moment, and you find yourself lost in thought, remembering when Gojo wore that sweater.

You rarely see him in casual clothes at school. He always sports that black uniform akin to Megumi's. So, when your gaze falls on him wearing that sweater, revealing his pristine azure eyes, it comes as a shock.

The gentle gradations of blue and black fabric wrapped around his tall figure, paired with gray pants and sporty shoes. He looks much younger than you had imagined.

At first, you didn't even recognize him, assuming he was just some random guy at school. However, after a mumbled comment from Kusakabe, it dawns on you that this gentleman is none other than Gojo Satoru.

You still remember the aroma wafting around your presence, clueless about its cologne brand. It's subtle yet spicy, with an intoxicating fragrance that transports you to another atmosphere. He smells incredibly nice.

As Gojo glides towards you, you realize he's surprisingly tall, with his fingers remarkably pretty and neatly trimmed. The way he talks makes you melt every time he calls your name under those kissable lips.

How can this man be so charming, leaving you dumbfounded every time?

Sometimes you have a wild thought about wearing one of his favorite sweaters. Imagine the soft fabric wrapped tightly around your body, perhaps making you dance under the moonlight until intoxicated.

It's so random, but you crave that experience. You have a weird desire to steal his warmth, borrow his kiss, or bask in all the beauty he shares. 

However, you couldn't really do that, could you? After all, you're a teacher like Gojo. The higher-ups might find it weird if they caught wind of such thoughts about your coworker.

So you simply sat there, patiently waiting for Gojo Satoru to arrive, and handed him the sweater. You wonder what outfit he wears this time. Maybe something cute or cool. 

Humming to pass the time, you had no idea how long you had been waiting for Gojo. According to Kusakabe, Gojo was engaged in a long conversation with Yaga, indicating something important, especially since he had just returned from Africa.

As twilight blankets the horizon, its orange hue tenderly caresses your body, filling your mind with positive thoughts.

Once again, you find yourself gazing at the sweater, almost breathless, as weird thoughts flood your mind. 

An irresistible urge consumes you, telling you to steal the sweater and take it home. Imagine yourself wearing it while you're sleeping. Imagine that Gojo gives it to you as a gift.

You don't care if Gojo might catch you and claim you as a thief. You have to do it.

It was just a little thing; Gojo wouldn't be angry.

So, you took the sweater from the paper bag, feeling the soft fabric caress your fingertips as the scent of fresh detergent danced to your nostrils.

Gazing at the sweater for a moment, you lost yourself in thought, and you found yourself drowning in a desire for him—Gojo Satoru.

You might come across as a bit creepy this time, really, but who can judge you when you have such adorable coworkers? Everyone can lose their minds too.

You swiftly put on that sweater, feeling the warmth from its fabric snugly enveloping your presence. A gentle blush tinged your cheeks as the thought of Gojo hugging you from behind flooded your sweet dreams.

Is it real, or is it just a dream?

"So sweet... So warm. I wonder if Gojo-san is always this warm..."

However, before you have time to change your mind and put the sweater in the paper bag, you feel like someone is tapping on your shoulder—not a forceful touch, but a tender and gentle one.

"Of course I always have this warmth, sensei; do you want to feel that too?"

As you turned your head, there he was—Gojo Satoru—standing right there with a gentle smile gracing his lips. His silver hair is caressed by the hues of orange and red from twilight, making his presence look adorable.

You don't even know how long he has been standing before you. Perhaps he witnessed the way you unfolded his sweater, wearing it as if it were yours and hearing how much you adored it.

"Eh... Gojo—"

"Why are you so surprised? You look like you've seen a ghost. But I wasn't a ghost!"

He tilted his head for a better view, letting out a cute chuckle while casting curious glances at you.

Froze. You stood frozen there. Blurred and foggy. Breathless. How could he stare at you with such eyes? It makes you fall deeper and deeper into his ocean-blue eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to wear your stuff, Gojo-san."

"Eh? Do you think I was angry at you? No. Why would I be angry with someone as nice as you? Beside..."

He leaned in, keeping his head close to yours, and paused between your ears. You could feel Gojo's breath brushing against your ear and his sweet lips almost caressing your earlobe.

Whispering softly, he said, "I won't tell anyone about this, because it's quite embarrassing, right?"

Foggy eyes.

Trembling. 

Heart pounding.

Rapidly.

Crimson cheeks.

Helpless.

Why did Gojo Satoru do this? Was he merely teasing you? Did he have a desire to see your embarrassment?

Why?

"I bought too much cake, and I want to share it with you. So, maybe you could join me at my apartment, and you'll have the chance to explore all of my sweaters. What do you say?"

This time, Megumi's prank really worked. But did Gojo call it a prank too?

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru gojo

[endemise]

DEMO

→ Latest Update: Prologue — 3 February 2024

17+ The Fall of House Black — A gothic, supernatural, mystery interactive fiction story. Lightly inspired by The Fall of the House of Usher and Frankenstein media. (Work in Progress)

Synopsis has mentions of death and suicide. See extended content warnings below.

The fall of House Black, your house, was an imminent thing. A name had never been so cursed that all it could do was bring about death.

First, your younger sister in a swimming accident, then your older brother in a case of mistaken identity. As the rest of your family sought to grieve and bring justice to your brother, your older sister was killed in a hunting accident at the end of your father’s bow.

The three of you, mother, father, and child, became inconsolable. Broken beyond repair. Your mother unable to bear the weight of life any longer took her own while your father disappeared, gone into the night. When you remain the sole survivor of House Black, you know you must leave, and on the night of your decision, your home goes up in flames with you inside.

Then, you awake, dazed with no recollection of anything, and when you look down at your body, you scream. It is wrong. So wrong.

Play as a reanimated, customizable character.

Learn how to be a person again.

Try to survive in a society that fears the unknown.

Develop relationships. (4 ROs: All gender-selectable + 1 secret RO)

Aid in the investigation of your family’s untimely deaths.

Learn about your family’s curse.

Aesop/Almira Hammond | Detective | 36 Years Old | RO

[Profile] [Portrait]

A is an observant and clever person, stoic in nature. They put their all into their work, striving to find the truth in every case. They take on the case of your family’s sudden deaths despite pushback from others. It was an occurrence of events all too strange, and they are determined to figure it out.

Cyprian/Cecilia Atterton | Writer | 28 Years Old | RO

[Profile] [Portrait]

C is an imaginative and creative person, quiet in nature. They write not only from their own experiences, but the experiences of others as well. They are interviewing people about House Black, intending on writing a book about your family’s ill fate and eventual demise.

Sebastian/Sabina Farwell | Doctor | 34 Years Old | RO

[Profile] [Portrait]

S is an intelligent and kind person, caring in nature. They are a most trusted doctor, hardworking and honest. They were the young doctor that tried to help your father and sister. They helped without question, never calling your family cursed as you so often were.

Elias/Elosia Osborne | Coroner | 30 Years Old | RO

[Profile] [Portrait]

E is an empathetic and hardworking person, cheerful in nature. They put their heart into their work, aiming to bring closure to people as swiftly as possible. They are the one who investigated and confirmed the death of your elder sister. They never could for you though.

Unknown | ??? | ??? | RO

A secret. Who knows when they will appear.

SUBJECT TO CHANGE

Mentions of death, child death, suicide, violence, blood, injury, burning alive, body horror, mutilation, slight gore, amnesia

asks are welcomed!

DISCLAIMER

this is a demo/work in progress. everything is subject to change until the final version. it is by no means a finished or polished work.

LINKS

→ demo | same one, just another link

→ itch.io | my creator page

→ @ethersic | my main, art, etc. blog

INFO

word count w/o code: 6.3k

next update: tbd

written with twine (tweego)/sugarcube

#interactive fiction #the fall of house black #the fall of house black if #tfohb if #itch.io #interact-if #twine #twine game #twine if #twine wip #if wip #if: intro #if: the fall of house black #tfohb: intro #✻ — announcement

[yourpsicodelicbitch]

astro thoughts pt blablabla 🫴🏼

pinterest

Leo mercury + 6H, she’s a perfectionist and has such a creative, intelligent and confident mind. she’s PRACTICAL and knows her worth -describing a friend-.

Uranus/Neptune retrograde could mean struggle to exit a toxic group, “friends”.

Mercury retrograde not necessarily represents obvious or visible problems/conditions with speaking, stutter or dyslexia, etc. I’ve noticed they could seem rude, too direct, not diplomatic, they could have difficulties explaining themselves. they could generalize often or they don’t ask about certain things bc they’re ashamed.

when your mars is in their 2H you feel so comfortable with them. in other words, the other day I hooked up with the person I share this synastry and I felt incredibly comfortable, seeing each others naked and don’t feel ashamed or judged. idk it’s funny to me, I’ve never felt that way -casual situation-, like I could even fart and he won’t even judge. too explicit I’m sorry 😭. I’m gonna stop with the mars 2H synastry

I’ve read a lot of comments about black moon in lilith 7H that says they could be part of a 3rd party or be “the other women”. I have that placement in my natal chart and already a couple of times my friends who end up a 2 year relationship propose me to be their sneaky link. also, it could mean that the girlfriends/ boyfriends/partners of your friends could be jealous of you, the Lilith 7H person.

9H stellium in solar return signifies improvement, learning, to expand your horizons, to start a new period of high/education/learning.

in this whole period of time I’ve learned about my needs and how to communicate them (Chiron 3H in solar return): for example, I’ve seen people and I wanted something casual but didn’t know how to make myself understood. I didn’t even know what I wanted, so I’ve learned it during this period. It doesn’t count only in situationship stuff, it’s an example.

Uranus 4H in Solar Return: yes, it doesn’t mean you’ll end up moving to another country. I’ve seen a CHANGE in my family dynamic. believe me, if my “me” from one year ago observes my family dynamic now, she would be SHOCKED.

Solar return mars conjunct Part of Fortune: yes, I’ve been 🤓📚🫦

Solar moon square uranus: I was a good girl all that time 🥰 I was suffering, struggling so hard so things will be in order, pretty and diplomatic… My feelings and ideas didn’t match what I usually used to do: do whatever I want (uranus ruled). I wanted but my subconscious was telling me to keep calm so all the trust or time i gave to build that environment won’t be wasted. then, unintentionally, I broke that diplomatic environment after my birthday. it felt really good, like it was me again😩

natal saturn 1H why so conservative and traditional? I’m not affirming is a bad thing but this placement often behaves exaggeratedly, too disciplined/formal. they could be too focused on what should be and how things should work instead of appreciating the whole situation. they could end up judging others too much, evidencing the amount of criticism they have on themselves.

pluto 9H not everything has to do with politics. -yes and no, it’s debatable-. my point is, relax, sometimes life it’s not how you wanted to be. let things be🧘‍♀️

Lilith (mean) 5H you were the experiment of your parents, don’t you?

Node trine Jupiter tells me you can overcome challenges in your life even if you have a lot of chiron aspects in your natal chart 😭 idk if it’s understandable. What I mean is that the universe has your back, this aspect goes through deep experiences that have the previous mentioned effects on them.

Ascendant - Mercury aspects: job that has to do with communication 🤪 too obvious but I’ve noticed. lawyer, publicity, etc.

sun opposition sun synastry: opposites attracts.

pluto opposition juno natal tells me you have to work first on yourself to enter a relationship, to solve those control issues. also meaning that if you didn’t work on yourself, you could have being the one directing the relationship.

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❀ Based on personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings

❀ English is not my first language

❀ I’m not a profesional astrologer

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

#synastry #astrology #astro observations #pinterest #astro posts #astro placements #astro notes #birth chart #solar return chart #Solar return #natal chart #Astro thoughts #sun opposition sun #Lilith #mars 2H overlays #Chiron 3H #leo mercury #ascendant #mercury retrograde #retrograde #Pluto opposite Juno