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#and just all of a sudden the vision lights up again and suddenly ghost
dearharriet · 2 months
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James potter + “you’re really red right now.” Please 🙏
this one was so fun :3 thank you for requesting! (wc: 679) (cw: blood, mentions of drinking + reader being drunk)
James ushers you further down the dingy hall, doing his damndest to keep you upright. It’s hard to help him with that task when the floor is moving and the lights on a constant strobe.
“This was a terrible idea,” James shouts, his voice nearly lost under slightly disturbing accordion music.
In hindsight, you perhaps had a touch too much to drink, but you’ll never admit it. “Was not.”
As if in retaliation, the floor gives a particularly cruel jerk, sending you sideways.
“Good lord, you’re sloshed.”
“James, it’s not me, it’s the floor!” You let James hoist you up, stalling a moment against a technicolor wall. “It won’t stop moving.”
“It has stopped, you lightweight, that’s what sent you.”
Three teenagers pass you two, laughing and staring, likely interpreting your pause for something it’s not. You give James a strange look before realizing he’s right—you’re perfectly still against the wall now.
“I don’t think I like this funhouse.”
Finally breaking his stony concern, James pulls you back down the corridor, laughing breezily.
“I’m sure you’re having more fun than me, at least.”
Making a face, you hold to his hand at your waist, steadying yourself.
“I didn’ realize it’s a competi-shun,” you slur. James breathes a laugh that you can feel against your neck, but says nothing in response.
Rounding the corner with a toddler’s level of balance, you come upon at least three duplicates of yourself.
“Ohhh,” you groan. “James, I might be more drunk than I thought.”
With a chuckle, James urges you forward. “I’m glad you can admit it, but these are just mirrors, love.”
Somehow, that makes you all the more disoriented, suddenly fighting a new wave of vertigo. James seems to anticipate this, because he shortens his leash on you, holding you mere inches from his chest with a vice grip. He’s muttering to himself bitterly about something you can’t comprehend.
He walks you towards the other pair of you, before diverting to the right, towards yet another mirror.
“James, we can’t go that way.”
“Try not to make this more irritating than it already is, please.”
You tamp down the urge to argue, though you can’t resist pushing out your bottom lip in a pout. James silently steers you through the dizzying maze with growing ease. Eventually, he turns what you expect to be the last corner, and you jerk back like you’ve been shocked.
“Oh my god,” James gasps. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.”
Swaying, you step out of his grip, feeling your face start to ache.
“Are you alright?” James’ voice is distant in your ears, like you’re wearing earmuffs, but his hands holding your upper arms are hot and sharp.
Focusing your double vision on his face, you pull your aching brows together.
“James…”
“Love, I’m sorry.” A ghost of amusement tugs at his lips, but he’s trying hard not to laugh. You’re still so confused, and James’ face…
“You’re really red right now,” you say.
At that, James finally breaks, hanging his head in silent shaking laughter. You’re not sure what’s so funny about it, he’s red from head-to-toe like a cartoon character after eating something spicy. Even his clothes.
“I’m serious!”
James looks at you again, smiling something awful. “I’m sure, pretty girl. You’re red, too.”
Shying, you sniff, your nose oddly runny. Of course you’re red, with James calling you pretty all of a sudden.
“Do you have a crush on me?” you ask dopily, reaching up to grab his muscled forearms.
James’ nodding excites you, but he says, “How about we talk about that when your nose isn’t bleeding.”
You blink. “Is it?”
Instead of answering, James frees a hand from your arms to swipe under your nostril. He shows you, holding up a black-red thumb as evidence.
“Oh. I suppose it has been dry lately.” You take his hand, missing it on you already. “That could be why.”
James sighs, beginning to chaperone you out of the awful mirror maze, toward a daunting set of shifting stairs.
“You’re going to be the death of me, lovey.”
+
thank you for reading! xx
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mlmxreader · 6 months
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Goodbye Doesn't Mean Forever | John Soap MacTavish x gn!reader
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ “i put on my best, but i’m still afraid” w/ soap? gn!reader, and i’m begging u for A SPRINKLE OF FLUFF!!! @mockerycrow ❞
: ̗̀➛ goodbye doesn't always mean forever, it doesn't always mean that he'll be gone for good.
: ̗̀➛ blood, death, major character death, swearing, depictions of dead bodies and fatal injuries
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
Trapped beneath the rubble, Soap groaned as he felt the rocks dig into his legs, the sound of his own bones slowly grinding until they snapped overpowered by the continuing explosions outside; he knew that he was a goner. He knew he would not be able to return home, and yet all he could think about was the person waiting for him there. He swallowed thickly.
He knew that Ghost and Gaz would look after you, but he hated not being able to say goodbye; even as he choked on his own blood, he still tried to call out to you even though you were a thousand miles away from him. Even though he knew that you would never hear.
When he turned his head to the side, bile and blood mixing in his throat and spewing out onto the dust, rendering his throat stinging and raw, he still tried to call out to you. Closing his eyes as he felt the rubble give way and press against his stomach; he tried not to move, knowing that it would likely split him open, but he had to breathe.
He shuddered, feeling the cold rocks against his stomach, sinking down against his organs. It was the end, he knew that. Soap wasn't an idiot, he knew that he was done for. That he would die under the rubble.
Something creaked, and the rock fell fully on his stomach. Splitting him in half as his intestines and stomach became mangled and squashed beneath it; he could only gasp your name as he stared, wide eyed.
One final breath, and he had used it to call your name with all the strength that he had left.
The rescue dogs had found Soap's body in the morning. Split jaggedly in half. Price had wept. Ghost had to move to the corner to be sick, spewing up bile. Gaz tried to remain strong, although his lip trembled and he sniffled. They had all seen death before, some of them had seen much worse than Soap's body, but it was different.
Soap was one of their own, a friend as much as a comrade. A friend.
As the commanding officer, Price made the call to tell you. He was sure that you would never forgive him, not when he had promised to keep Soap safe for you. A lot of guilt was on the captain's strong shoulders. The three went back with Soap's body, and although they tried to contact you, they never heard or saw from you until the funeral.
After it, they didn't see you again, even when they were sent back to the base. They didn't see you, you didn't say goodbye, you didn't wish them luck. They couldn't blame you. Soap was dead, you were all alone, now. They couldn't blame you for wanting nothing to do with them.
You probably needed space. Maybe once they were on leave for a few weeks, you would be open to visitors; they hoped so.
The first night was always the hardest. You cried until you slept for a few hours, and even though your head was pounding and you were dizzy and nauseous, black spots in your vision and your head feeling light and fuzzy, you still made your way to the kitchen.
You didn't care what time it was, dried snot covered your nose and your throat was clogged and thick with mucus, you needed something to drink. You could just about turn the tap on, hands shaking when you grabbed the glass to fill it up. The house was empty, colder than usual, and the shadows were constantly moving; you assumed it was just where you weren't fully awake.
Even when the temperature suddenly dropped even more, and when your stomach began twisting into knots as you turned to look behind you. You shook your head trying to clear the feeling. The smell of rotten eggs was sudden and overpowering, and the greenish yellow smoke was too much to handle.
You coughed, but assumed it was all in your head. You were just having a waking nightmare from missing… missing the one person in life who you adored and loved more than anything else.
You pressed your back against the wall, your hands shaking even more as you chewed at the inside of your lip, pulling the flesh away with your teeth. But that's when he stepped forward.
Out of the shadows where the bathroom door met the shed. Face covered in blood and sick, his eyes white and leaking. You could see through him, a ghastly greenish yellow smoke pouring from his frame; when he moved, he held onto his stomach as if he was in two parts. You shook your head.
"No…"
"It's me," his voice was choking, coughing and spluttering. "I won't hurt you… I just came to say goodbye."
You shook your head again, eyebrows creasing as your lip trembled. "No."
He took another step forward, looking at his bloodied hands for a moment. "I'm sorry I can't touch you. Hold you one last time."
Your gaze landed on the stitches where the funeral services had stitched his two parts together, and you sank down on the floor, your head in your hands. A loud moaning bawl screaming from the back of your throat.
You couldn't breathe, your chest tight and your entire body shaking. "No!"
"C'mon," Soap choked out, dropping to his knees beside you. When he pressed his hand to your shoulder, his fingers sank through you, and he sighed. "Please. It's me. Yer Johnny."
"You're not real!" You screeched. "You're not fucking real!"
He frowned, sighing heavily. "I just want to say goodbye. Please, love."
"You're not real!"
Soap moved to sit down properly, retracing his hand and pulling off his bloodied discs. He tossed them onto the floor in front of you. "There's a lot I didn't say… a lot I should'a… I put on my best, but I'm still afraid and I… I didn't want to leave you all alone…"
"Go away!" You howled. "You're not real!"
"Calm doon," he coughed. "Please. I didn't want to scare you."
"Go away!"
"Please, love," he whispered, his voice cracked and rough. "Look at me."
Slowly, you turned your gaze to him, but when you tried to touch his face, your hands were met with nothing but a puff of greenish yellow smoke. "Why can't I touch you?"
Clearing his throat, Soap grumbled. "Am no flesh and blood… not anymore."
"John…"
"I love you," he told you, although not for the first time, it certainly felt like the last time. "An' I'll always be watching over you. Always. Am no leaving you forever, y'know… just for a little while."
"Don't go…"
"I have to," he admitted. "But I'll be back. Promise. I just… I want to say goodbye, properly, and spend just one last night with you."
"You'll be here all night?"
"Aye," he cracked a smile, his teeth broken and shattered, coated in thick blood. "An' every year on this date, I'll come back and see you. I promise."
"I love you."
"This ain't goodbye forever," Soap promised. "Just for a little while."
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Haunted
OK, a kinda angsty but maybe a bit funny/touching ghost AU for the Fruity Four (so Steddie + Ronance). Warning: character death, thoughts of self-harm. 
Imagine Steve being the last one of the Fruity Four standing. He survived against all the odds, but now his soulmate, the man he loves, his first love are dead. And it doesn't make sense because they were all so much more valuable than he is, smarter, more resourceful, so how come he is alive and they aren't? He wishes he died with them, but he knows he can't do this to the kids, he needs to be there for them. So he tries to fill the void as much as he can, lets them talk, drives them to the graves, to therapy (not for himself. Only for them). He grits his teeth and perseveres. It's not like he wants to live, he feels indifferent about living at best. He thinks that he might end things when the kids don't need him, but that's a long road ahead. 
He's grieving, feels like nothing is real anymore, so he doesn't fully trust his mind when the first signs appear. He's boiling his fifth cup of coffee that afternoon so he doesn't fall asleep, doesn't have to dream about them. His hands are already shaking and his head pulses in pain, but he goes for it anyway - but then the kettle jumps up on the counter and spills water everywhere.  Some droplets even land on his fingers and burn him. And like an echo, he hears a panicked "sorry!". But there's no one in the house with him. 
It doesn't end there. When he falls asleep behind the wheel, he feels a sudden slap on his cheek, it wakes him up just in time to evade a street light. When he tries to drink himself into oblivion, he swears the vodka bottle (courtesy of Murray) keeps moving further and further away from him, and it definitely is because he has to get up, he can't reach it at all and when he does, the bottle moves again and rolls under the nearest wardrobe. When he sobs in the shower and takes a longing look at his razor just inviting him to end the pain, the water suddenly turns freezing cold and he jumps out of the shower. He thinks he's going crazy, especially when letters start appearing on the foggy mirror. DON'T YOU DARE, DINGUS, they read. 
Maybe he's going mad, but he doesn't mind. He often leaves the shower running for longer to see more messages, some strict (NO DRINKING, YOU'RE DRIVING MIKE TODAY), some caring (REMEMBER TO EAT SOME BREAKFAST, LOVE), some just plain ridiculous (GET A HAIRCUT!). He becomes calmer which probably isn't a good idea for someone who's being haunted, but he can't bring himself to care. He has a silly idea one day, he leans towards a mirror in his car and breathes on it. Just as he moves his lips away, a simple heart appears on the foggy surface, as if someone shaped it with fingertips. 
He's in the bathroom again, running hot water and waiting for the next message, when his vision slightly blurs. It's as if something was materializing in front of him, still barely visible, but he can also hear faint voices now. They sound as if they were coming from far away, but he'd recognize them anywhere. 
There  are three figures in his bathroom, shoving each other and arguing. "...you'd leave something sappy again, so no, Eddie. He needs to get his shit together, I'd rather use it this time to get him to see a doctor for those sleeping problems!" he hears and he sobs loudly, doesn't mean to, but it's Robin, a bit transparent, maybe blurry, but he doesn't care, doesn't mind. She's there. And Eddie and Nancy too.
The three go quiet when they notice he's crying and Robin is muttering to Eddie "okay, go go go, something sappy, I can't see him like this again, I really can't," but it's Nancy - of course it is Nancy! -  who shushes them and narrows her eyes, confused.
She takes several steps towards him, enough for him to feel her presence like a cool breeze. "Steve?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper. "Can you see us?" 
"Yes," he sobs out. "Yes, Nance." He wants to hug them, wants to feel their warmth and he knows he's never getting that back, but hearing their voices, seeing them much sooner than he thought, it's enough. It has to be enough. "Am I...am I dying now? Is that why you're here? God, Dustin's going to be so pissed." 
Eddie barks out a laugh. "Your priorities, Stevie. Never change."
Robin shakes her head and leans on the wall next to him. "Nope, Dingus. Not this time. I mean, we're here for you, but not like that. Turns out we have some...unfinished business." 
Steve stares at them and hopes that if this is a dream, he never wakes up. "What...is that?" His voice is dry and raspy and he thinks for a moment, selfishly, if he could sabotage their attempts to move on, to keep them here for a bit longer. He hates himself for the thought. 
"Stevie," Eddie smiles and hovers his hand next to Steve's cheek. "Do you even need to ask? It's you. You're our unfinished business." 
Steve isn't alone anymore. Eddie's voice gets him out of the bed and gently guides him to the shower, forces him to take care of his appearance again. Robin's transparent form is pacing downstairs, relentlessly practicing telekinesis or whatever ghostly equivalent she has to prepare at least a basic breakfast for him. She manages to open the fridge, but then the door starts closing and she is shrieking at Nancy to keep it open, just a second, she'll get the milk out! Nancy manages to drop a tissue into the spilled milk, that's about as much as she can do now. Therefore cooking is still up to Steve, but he doesn't mind, not now that there is chatter and laughter in his house again. They keep giving him unnecessary advice on the spices, the ingredients, anything they can, and Steve finds himself eating again, at least enough to be healthy. Sleep still doesn't come easily, but Eddie stays with him and sings him songs Steve hasn't heard before.
They don't know exactly what this unfinished business entails. Is it making sure Steve moves on? Is it keeping him healthy and alive? Is it just keeping him company until they have to reunite? They don't know and for now, it doesn't matter. Steve Harrington is a haunted man and he can't think of a better thing that's ever happened to him.
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sxturdaysun · 7 months
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if this lasts forever, i'll be just fine
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↪ ship: you're my home / mikuni ↪ content: 1.5k words. actually like nauseatingly soft. technically this references something i still haven't finished, but also not really. no canon references, but takes place in between manga events because i deserve to be happy with him, actually.
happy birthday, cowboy. you still have my whole heart. 💛
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with practiced ease, slender fingers slid gently through the strands of her hair.
"are you sure i'm going to look good like this?"
"of course i am. you always look good, koda-chan."
despite the way her heart skipped a small beat — or maybe in spite of it — her eyebrows furrowed at the compliment; drew together and narrowed her eyes as flecks of disbelief took to the color of her irises. her lips parted, a deflection — a no, i don't caked in thinly-veiled embarrassment — forming on the tip of her tongue only to die just before she got a chance to voice it as she glanced sideways, her gaze being met with his still fixated downward — on his hands; on her curls; on the way he was softly weaving them together. something about it — the way his eyes had gone half-lidded; the peaceful, ghost of a smile that lingered around the edges of his mouth; the shadow that his bangs cast over his face — made her stop short; made her mouth softly close again.
made her heart skip another annoying beat.
"there." after twisting a hair tie around the bottom of the braid he had made, mikuni pulled his hands from her hair, his gaze lifting up to meet hers with a smile that sent a wave of warmth cascading over koda's face. "all done~ you can go look now."
koda let her eyes linger wordlessly on his for another moment before breaking away from them, the heat pooling under her skin steadily getting warmer; getting more frustrating. a small, "…alright," came mumbled past her lips, her legs gently unfolding from underneath her and moving to dangle off the side of the bed.
sliding to the floor, her feet sunk into the soft carpet of their bedroom, just narrowly avoiding a shoe she'd haphazardly left there the night before and one of his boots he'd dropped next to it. nudging them gently to the side, koda made her way from the bedside to the adjoining bathroom in a few short steps, absentmindedly flipping on the light switch as she crossed over the threshold. against the sudden, harsh light, she squinted; and when her eyes adjusted and her vision cleared, she found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror.
on either side of her head, two braids hung, framing her face and brushing against the tops of her shoulders. a twinge of disconnect formed in the back of her mind; lingered as she shook her head gently side-to-side, green eyes watching the braids swing softly back and forth in tandem with the movement. strange, echoed somewhere in her thoughts — even if only slightly, seeing her hair styled differently — seeing it styled at all — was so… strange.
she didn't dislike it, though.
movement in the mirror tore koda's attention from herself; behind her, she watched mikuni stand up off the bed, his figure steadily growing closer until his chest was all but touching her back; until he could wrap his arms loosely around her shoulders and nestle his chin into a comfortable spot on the top of her head. a soft, content hum met her ears when she didn't pull away; and when she leaned backward against him, a happy smile broke out across his face again.
"see? i told you you'd look cute~"
the heat that had been softly burning under her skin suddenly flared up; turned her face bright red and forced her gaze sideways again. her heart skipped that same, irritating beat again — it always seemed to, no matter how many times she'd heard similar words fall from his lips — and with it came a short huff of air through her nose. "…you're just saying that."
the reaction she expected never came — there was no overexaggerated response; no feigned gasp of indignation; no i would never lie to my little koda-chan like some kind of monster! instead, all mikuni did was let out a low exhale against the top of her head, his nose burying itself into her hair. "i'm not," he murmured, his voice soft and muffled as it hit her ears. just barely, his arms tightened around her. "you're always so cute, koda."
whatever denial she may have still had — whatever flustered sh-shut up or disbelieving i-i'm not, though still sat heavy on the tip of her tongue — went unsaid; smothered by the warmth seeping from his body onto hers; by the comforting weight of his arms resting on the line of her shoulders; by the gentle kiss he pressed onto her head.
when her heart jumped this time, she let it.
despite the habitual way her lips pressed together — despite the way her bright red cheeks puffed out in a small pout; despite the way her eyes darted to the side once more — a short, "…f-fine," forced itself out of her mouth and into the air surrounding them. if only for right now, she would accept it without her usual fight; would allow the compliment to nestle itself into heart.
if only because he was the one saying it to her, she would allow herself to believe it just this once.
in the mirror, through the corners of her vision, koda watched her eyes flicker back and forth — from her face to his; to the way his eyes had slipped peacefully shut as he held her; to the hint of a smile he wore amidst her curls. as she looked at him — as her gaze traced over his frustratingly pretty features — one of her hands reached up to absentmindedly toy with one of the braids he'd weaved into her hair; and when the diamond on her finger glinted in the artificial light, her eyes flickered to it, too.
"…mikuni?"
"hm?"
i love you.
the sudden thought made her heart momentarily stop; sent an almost nauseating swarm of butterflies to the pit of her stomach. hotter still, her face burned — turned so red she wouldn't have been surprised to see it simply catch fire. blinking rapidly, koda looked away again — away from the mirror and his eyes and the way they had opened just enough for her to see the color in them. "…n-nothing."
against the top of her head, she felt him smile, another soft hum leaving the back of his throat and hitting her ears. wordlessly, mikuni took one of his arms from where it rested around her shoulders — and before koda got the chance to question it, his hand nudged itself easily into hers. his fingers slid gently between her own; curled loosely around them as he lifted her hand up to his face to press a feather-light kiss against the ring she wore.
"i love you, too, koda."
all at once, the flustered embarrassment she had been barely holding back crashed over her in waves; flooded her veins and filled her with the sudden and intense urge to hide her face. "i-i didn't—" through the now-racing beat of her heart, she stuttered out the words, eyebrows knitting together in a futile attempt to glare at him in the mirror. "h-how did you—"
"i guessed~" the familiar teasing tone slipped into his voice, the sound of it only serving to make her heart beat faster and her stomach lurch harder. another kiss was left on her skin — lingered there; brought with it an airy sigh. "it's not hard to tell what you're thinking, though. you're my little koda-chan, remember?"
of course i do.
the half-hearted glare eased off her face; left koda's features softer in the wake of the question — of the affectionate nickname he'd long-since taken to calling her; of the deeper meaning of it, hidden just below the surface. "yeah." when she spoke, it came out as a whisper — anything louder was unnecessary. "i know."
after her words came silence — one beat of it, then two, marked by the feeling of his heart beating steadily against her back. mikuni's hand pulled itself from hers as his arm slid from her shoulders, both moving to wrap around her waist and turn her around in his grasp. when their eyes met — shy green to affectionate brown — he smiled at her — softly; lovingly; so lovingly that it made her chest grow tight; so lovingly that it was almost overwhelming.
so lovingly that she felt like she might drown in it.
inching her closer to his chest, mikuni leaned down to her height to press a kiss to her forehead, his smile lingering against her skin. "good," he murmured, pulling back just enough to lean his head gently against hers, the tip of his nose just barely touching her own. blond strands of hair fell lightly into the space between them; behind them, his eyes slipped half-shut, the softened look in them melting away whatever flimsy wall might have remained around koda's heart. "i'm yours, too."
and then he kissed her — again and again and again.
"always."
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This part of the wolfswood was full of ghosts, and she saw them plain.
In the dense thicket of trees she saw wisps of them flow in and out of her vision as if they were passing through some invisible river, incorporeal essence dripping from them. They emerged from the sentinels and oak trees and passed through them without effort, taking on shapes of their own. The figures assumed familiar forms—of her mother and father, of Robb, even Grey Wind and Lady loped in the spaces between.
She swallowed down the thick lump in her throat as she reached for them, trailing after them as best she could in calf-deep snow like a stumbling child...
...and suddenly they were gone, and all that remained was her, alone, standing before three heart trees.
Had they deliberately led her here? She stared up at the gods, seeing the wisdom in their faces, centuries of knowledge buried in their snow-piled roots and moonlight white barks.
They watched her vigilantly through their ancient eyes, seemingly following her every move, and she watched them in turn. Bloody red sap crusted their eyes, their opened mouths, seeped through the cracks of their melancholy faces. They appraised her until she felt like they knew every secret she kept close and hard in her heart.
These are her gods. Her father's gods. Jon's gods.
Arya shivered under their wordless gaze. Maybe they could give her the answer she sought, give her guidance like they had before. She dared to hope.
"I beg you again, you gods," she peeled off a leathern glove and let the fingers grace the bark, as light a touch as a kiss. Her hand was freezing, but she didn't care, she just wanted to see Jon again. "Tell me—is Jon there?"
Saying Jon's name out loud made her sad.
Arya heard nothing in return but rustling leaves, distant waters rushing, and the shift of the wind blowing underneath her cloak. She was tempted to ask the question again until the howl of a wolf and the mirrored song of hundreds more filled the quiet, from beyond her sight and deeper still into the shadows. Her voice died to a hushed breath. Goosepimples pricked her arms, and her chest rose and fell harder than before. All of a sudden, she felt lightheaded and dizzy, and she leaned against the tree for support.
"Head home, daughter of the north," she heard. The old gods lent encouragement to her with her father's voice once, but this time there were far too many speaking in unison to be able to discern any of them.
"But I can't," she whispered. She chewed on her lip and felt her teeth quivering against the captured skin. "If he's not really there, I'll break," she finished. Grey eyes glanced at the face before her. Had it always looked this sympathetic?
It felt as if frozen lightning coursed through her veins and under her skin when she heard whispers of Jon in the taverns and brothels of the Ragman's Harbor, dark words that fluttered even darker than raven's wings. She didn't want to remember, but the memory came unbidden. The Black Bastard of the Wall, slaughtered by his own men, they said.
She hadn't remembered much after hearing them.
The last thing she recalled was of her pushing a loose stone away to recover Needle, trembling hands clutching it tight as she struggled to breathe. The hole in her heart was dangerously close to swallowing her completely then. "Haven't I been broken enough?"
The Faceless Men taught her to steel her emotions, and yet she had never felt more pitiful than she had now. She was supposed to be as strong as Nymeria and fierce and terrible as the little grey cousins that pad after her heels, but right now she felt like some stupid grey mouse girl on the verge of falling apart, never to recover this time. She filled her palm with Needle's pommel, thinking of Jon's smile.
The gods were quiet again. She heard no voices, save for the calls of various night birds, and saw no more ghostly figures of her family, but it was the silence that was the worst part. Suddenly a well of anger exploded in her chest, though it felt silly to be wroth with nameless gods. Arya wiped at a tear that fell with furious fingers that she could barely bend, numb with cold.
"Just give me a sign. Anything, anything at all--"
She hadn't realised that she was crying. And she also hadn't noticed the warm rasp of a tongue licking at her face until a blur of white covered part of her vision. Arya jumped back, only to catch the crimson of a pale direwolf's eyes staring back at her, watching her silently. They were as crimson as weirwood sap and drank the light of the moon and distant stars, and she wasn't sure if she had seen something so pretty before, nor reassuring.
How had she not noticed him? It was a question she could not rightly answer. But the wolf was far larger and taller than she was, even bigger than Nymeria, and her head could barely reach Nymeria's chest.
"Ghost," she whispered, then the tears fell fat upon her cheeks, dripping cold from her chin. He stalked closer, and let his wet nose nudge against her exposed hand, the heat of his breath warming her skin. Her own wolf brushed against her side before taking her place beside her litter-mate. Hope bloomed eternal in her chest, and she felt the darkness in her heart brighten, just a shade or two. "Take me home, Ghost. Take me to him."
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fyeahiwatarikei · 1 year
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any of these, please! with any character you choose~
“Well it’s a good thing I don’t plan on doing that.” “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” “Are you afraid of me?” “I haven’t seen you in months.” “Is it worth it? Risking everything just for a chance.”
Prompt List
“Are you afraid of me?”
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She immediately regrets the gasp and the tension in her body, not because he almost sounds hurt, but because of course it’s him, of course, who else?
Who else would show up in a corridor of the Hikari household unannounced in the middle of the night? She should have known this “man” would be lurking in the shadows, perhaps trying to befriend some ghost in a corner. Or perhaps, given the way the light reflects on his glasses, hunting rodents. Meow.
“I am merely afraid of sudden movement in the corner of my vision in the middle of the night,” she responds instead of a rhetoric question about whether women can go to the bathroom in peace that could indeed deescalate the tension she’s feeling, but wouldn’t bring them anywhere.
“I heard noise.”
So the bathroom question would have been relevant, after all. She sighs, arms falling by her sides again.
“I live in my house, after all, Elm Root. I don’t mean to offend you, but…” She approaches, bothered by how the obscurity turns him into a vague, blurry thing. “What are you doing here?”
The light from the street barely brings light to the corridor, but the artwork’s shapes draw themselves, at last. His face seems… serious, still. Was he really that hurt by her abrupt yet natural reaction?
“You need someone by your side, don’t you?”
Another sigh. Cannot argue with artworks logic when artworks have no logic. Surely this thing has no concept of privacy or basic politeness either. She should have guessed the moment she found him by her door that she had unknowingly accepted a roommate…
“Where do you even hide…?”
“Ah, this…” A smile creeps back on his face. Suddenly, she realises. “It’s a secret!”
He’s wearing pyjamas. And ugly ones, too… That’s almost scarier than finding some gloomy nest.
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creamecream · 3 years
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Full Name: Linnea
Sex: Female
Birthday: Unknown
Constellation: Fleur De La (”Flower Of The Field” aka Scorpio)
Nation: Liyue
Affiliation: Wangshu Inn
Special Dish: Satisfying Salad
Titles: Ghost Lady of the Inn
Weapon: Catalyst
Element: Dendro
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getouswh0re · 3 years
Note
Howdy!! Could I request Yandere Gojo and Geto from jjk, with a special-grade sorcerer reader? Ty in advance, I really like your writing!✨
an; thank you for the love ˊᗜˋ💕 here are some drabbles for them separately, hope you liked it :3
warnings; yandere, gore, blood, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behaviour. do not condone such actions in real life, and please kindly read at your own discretion.
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THE night was quiet, almost serene, totally at odds with the glowering menace in Geto’s eyes. Gone was the subtle gentleness in those inky slits you had grown to adore; in its place, inscrutable darkness bore holes into the back of your skull as you shuddered beneath the curse user’s glare.
It was still Geto in the flesh: the same face, unique hairstyle and robes he’d wear just like any other day. Yet it was no longer the special-grade sorcerer whom you once knew and loved. You never knew what caused such a drastic change in him; all you wished for, was for the old Geto to return, hoping that all of this was none other than another nightmare.
“Suguru? W-What are you doing at my door? It’s already late, you should be taking some rest ...” A hint of dismay — maybe sadness, ghosted his expression when the raven picked up the quivers in your tone. Nonetheless, a gentle smile adorns his face, emerging from the shadows to reveal himself as the raven explained himself.
“Why? Can’t I come and visit you?” He cocked his head, a playful smirk evident. Geto never ceased to make your heart flutter; perhaps it was his flirtatious nature and mellow personality that drew you towards him, but even after being one of his closest friends for a long time, at times you felt like you couldn’t understand him at all, with this being one of the occurrences.
You chortled, about to invite the raven into your apartment when warning bells started to ring incessantly in your head, warning you that there was something awry about him once you caught a glimpse at his clothes imbrued with crimson splatters.
“Sugu ... what is that on your clothes?”
“Oh this? Satoru splashed me with red paint, it’s not much of a big deal.” You knew he was lying, instantly picking up the revolting metallic stench from the stains. Dread filled your mind while you staggered back, keeping a distance from the male who gave you a perplexed look in return.
“You and I know a smell like this isn’t red paint ...” Trying to be as calm as you could, you retracted a step backwards with every stride Geto took. “Be honest with me. What on earth have you done?”
“Sharp as ever, y/n.” A condescending look took over as Geto finally revealed his true colours. “The world needs to change. All these monkeys are the reasons why curses exist. They can’t even control their cursed energy properly, and we sorcerers have to battle with death every time a curse poses as a threat to them. Their ignorance is revolting in its core, and I believe to make the world a better place, it would be better off to remove all of them out of sight. Don’t you agree —“
“What the fuck are you thinking?” Unable to withhold your seething rage, you snapped at the curse user. “This isn’t what sorcerers should do! What you are doing is of no difference from a brutal murderer Geto! I can’t fucking believe you!”
“How can you think of me like they y/n? That hurts my heart you know.”
Before you could even scream, he was already inches away, blood-stained hands caressing your cheeks tenderly as if you were made of fragile glass. “I just want to make life easier, there’s no need for us to put our lives at stake every time we exorcise curses. Right? We could be enjoying peaceful days together, free from the dangers of this world ...”
“Stop! Your delusions are sick, this isn’t you at all Geto! I don’t know what is wrong with your brain, but it’s never too late to turn back —“
Suddenly, your vision darkened — your consciousness sinking into a bottomless void as the raven carried you in a bridal style, the two of you vanishing into the tenebrosity of the night.
“And I thought you were the only one who’d understand me ... love.” He shook his head in disapproval, but the disappointment in his eyes were eventually replaced with glee as Geto stared at your limp figurine in his arms.
“But don’t worry, what needs to be done will be done. For our sake, for our future together.”
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EVERYTHING would always be uglier up close.
At first glance, one might find Gojo Satoru a perfect man: with talent, looks and wealth all in one package. Men envy the greatest sorcerer of all time, and women grovel at his feet, desperate for a sprinkle of the man’s attention. Despite living the life everyone dreams to be in, the heir of the Gojo clan couldn’t care less about how the world spins around his axis. For the sorcerer has his eyes set on something much more worthy of his time and effort. 
He is a man of determination, willing to achieve his goals with whatever means possible — even resorting to dirtying his own hands. It is such an irony that underneath the charming façade, such a disgusting soul exists.
“For the last time Satoru, I am not interested in dating anybody.” Heaving an exasperated sigh, you politely shoved the lavish presents piling up at your front door back into the man’s arms. 
“I feel really flattered that you have feelings for me, I truly do. But I’m sure you know as sorcerers, we fight with death every day. If there is any regret that I’d dread to have ... it would be to leave everything I love behind. And I would rather die alone than leave my partner suffering on their own.” 
“That’s what I love about you y/n.” 
A loving sigh slipping from his tongue, Gojo took a step forward, cupping your face with utter delicacy. Yet you felt more than revolted by his sudden intimacy, struggling to writhe away from his tightening grip.
“You are always so kind, so considerate ... something I cannot find in anyone else other than you. But think about it sweetheart! You and I are both special-grade sorcerers, but I can protect you from the curses — at the same time giving you the moon and stars. We could move in together, you wouldn’t even need to work anymore. Why make your life harder when I could simply provide for you? Seriously —” 
“S-Satoru, I hate to tell you this but you’re pushing the boundaries right now.” Trying to reason with the sorcerer, you spoke with a harsher tone, praying that Gojo would get the hint and respect your choices. “You’re out of your mind! And why would you force 
Nonetheless, your words fell on deaf ears. 
“Now this is not how you should react when someone offers you their heart and soul.” The light in his cerulean eyes darkened, cyan hues glimmering beneath the penumbra of nightfall. “And I know you are a smart young woman, so you’d come to realise what is in your best interest. I really don’t want to do this to you y/n; but if you are trying to push me away from your life again, I would have to keep you to my side — the hard way.” 
With that, he pulled down his blindfold.
You were aware of how dangerous Infinite Void was; still, experiencing it first-hand was one hell of a terrifying experience. Fleeting images flashed across your vision as if all of this was in fastforward motion, depicting your fate in the past along with future. As certain blurred vestiges showed up, your heart sank in indescribable despair; moments of you and none other than Gojo were portrayed — blood splattered across the labyrinth of streets in Tokyo, your trembling hands intertwined with his, platinum bands wrapped around both of your ring fingers, adorable kids that were exact replicas of both of you. At this point, you could feel the will to fight back dwindling to fickle embers. 
No matter what you did, Gojo would always find his way back to you.
Even if he had to tear the world apart with his hands. 
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360iris · 3 years
Text
Wanna Be Down (George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley)
Warnings: Pure smut! She/her pronouns for the reader! No funny business between the boys I promise! There’s bound to be some typo that I missed, sorry ‘bout that!
Word count: 1,628
Summary: There’s a birthday, a bunny costume and The Twins... What could go wrong?
A/N: This was originally meant to drop on their birthday, April 1st... I’m 28 days late for that but hey, better late than never! It’s been collecting dust for the entire time and I wanted to set it free. I hope someone enjoys it!
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“You want me to- to wear a bunny outfit and have the two of you…” You faltered nervously, the words seemed foreign on your tongue.
“-fuck you in it.” Fred finished for you with a wide grin, as if this was the most in the ordinary activity to plan.
The twins wanted to sleep with you? This was the first you’d heard of it, that’s for sure. And though the thought sent waves of excitement through your body, the prospect was daunting.
You’d been friends since diapers, a meager six hours separating your births. And whether the bond that formed later was predetermined by fate, or by pure chance, it was wholly indestructible.
Through the years, the three of you operated perfectly insync. Remaining quite persistently glued at the hip; completing every task deemed worthy enough as an odd unit.
There was an unspoken rule that each of you would make sure that the others felt equally included in activities.
So why should taking your virginity be any different?
“We’ll be twenty in a few hours, Y/N. Don’t you want to kick off the new decade with a bang?” George asked, his face genuine and voice laced with just the right amount of sweetness. He always did know how to persuade you into going along with Fred’s crazy schemes.
“Quite literally in this instance.” Fred added cheekily and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.
“Both of you have had sex before though. Plenty of times in fact! You told me about it afterwards! In vivid detail at that! Why are you so worried about me now?” Your brows were furrowed, lips turned downwards in a pout.
Sitting criss-cross on your bed, you tugged one of the many pillows on your bed into your lap. Squeezing it tighter when you met their gazes again.
Fred had his hands tucked into his jean pockets, happy as ever. He acted as if it was only a matter of time before he’d get the answer he wanted.
George on the other hand, at least looked like he was having a conversation with you; and not like he was just waiting for you to realize you’d never actually said no to them before. His eyes were soft, assessing your demeanor before approaching your spot at the foot of the bed.
“You know you’re our favorite girl. Don’t you, Y/N?” He questioned and you suddenly felt smaller looking directly up at him. Ginger waves caressing his cheeks and pooling at his shoulders.
“I mean- I suppose.” You replied dumbly.
“Who do we always come back home to?” He asked again, his left hand lifting up from his side to comb through your hair. The pads of his fingers brushing against your cheek as they went.
“Me.” Your answer was hushed, though it was only the three of you in the flat. They’d closed the shop downstairs hours ago.
“And who trails after me as much as she can during the day, practically jumping into my lap the first opportunity she gets?” His voice was getting lower and his gaze remained fixed to you, you tried your best not to squirm.
“M- Me.”
“Lastly, whose the babygirl that slips into my bed at three in the morning because she stays up too late and gets scared?” He was teasing you now, you knew it, but still gave him a reply.
“Me, George.” Both of his hands were cupping your face now, fingertips laced in your hair, you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.
“So when I ask my favorite girl to put on the outfit I picked out for her, so I can make her feel good on her birthday, what do you think I want to hear back?” A single brow arched as he waited for your answer, ignoring Fred’s quiet “I helped choose it too, y’know.”
Wrapping your fingers around his wrists, you thought about all the times he and Fred had slept with other girls. How deep down you’d wished they’d looked at you the same way.
He allowed you to remove one of his hands, a dark smirk splitting across his face when you’d slowly brought it between your legs. Only coming to a stop when he was cupping your heat.
“I think- I think I’ve been holding out for you.” It was no higher than a whisper, but it’d been the truth nonetheless. He smiled wider at this confession, leaning in and pressing a light kiss on your forehead.
“All the more reason not to disappoint.” He responded, you faintly registered rustling from behind him.
“Y/N, dear?” Fred called.
“Hm?”
“Time to put the outfit on.”
It’d been relatively easy to slip into the get-up. The bodysuit, wrist cuffs and neck piece fitting like a glove.
“When did you get my measurements?” You asked, looking down at yourself.
“Since when have we not had your measurements?” Fred laughed, pulling you onto the bed with him until your back was flush against his chest. Your head comfortably leaning back on his left shoulder.
George following after you, settled for sitting up in front of you, his knees digging into the pink duvet.
“The ears are a nice touch.” He remarked with a pleased smirk. “Don’t you agree, Fred?”
“Absolutely. All white suits her.” He replied matter-a-factly, hands already roaming your torso. Ghosting over your exposed thighs, he hooked a finger under the bikini line of the bodysuit and let it snap back into place. Your hips jutted outwards at the impact.
“Want to hear you ask for it, Y/N.” George was palming your calves, making you feel small again.
“What do you want me to say?” Your brows furrowed curiously at the request, breath hitching when he utilized his grip to pull you further down Fred’s chest. Your ankles eventually hooking against George’s shoulders.
“Want him to play with your little cunt, don’t you baby?” Fred asked from above you, heat rushing to your face at his words.
“Y- Yeah.”
“Then ask, darling.” He grinned at your eyes widening as you met his gaze upside down.
Turning your attention back to George, you absentmindedly bit at the end your thumb nervously. Sure you’d used curse words like anyone else in the world, but the thought of actually asking the twins to fuck you was on a level you’d never thought you’d reach.
“Georgie?” You tried carefully.
“What is it, baby?” He replied softly, a smile playing on his lips, patiently waiting.
“Want- Want you to make me feel good.”
“How?” He prompted, delighting in your fidgeting. Fred however wasn’t feeling as patient, sending a soft smack to your inner thigh.
“Don’t have all day, bunny.” He chided, slowly massaging the site.
“Want your cock, Georgie.” You finally relented, wanting nothing more than to hide your face in your hands, but you feared being spanked again by Fred. 
George rewarded you with a kiss, palming your clit through the material. He swallowed up every whimper that escaped your lips, only answering by expertly thumbing the area faster. 
“Let’s see how wet you are, bun.” Fred whispered, pulling the bodysuit aside to reveal your heat. Running a finger through your folds, he promptly brought it to your mouth. Smirking widely when you began meekly sucking at the digit.
“I’m gonna get you ready, okay sweetheart?” George asked, mouthing at your neck. He didn’t move until you garbled something close to “okay” through Fred’s fingers sadistically pressing down your throat.
Armed with plenty of lube, the first finger sliding into you felt like nothing. By the third, he resorted to distracting you by rubbing your bud to ease the initial stretch. Although nothing could have prepared you for how uncomfortable taking his tip was.
It was a slow process, full of the boys tenderly guiding you to breathe deeply and relax your muscles. With the abundance of their attention focused on outweighing the discomfort with pleasure, eventually the mild pain began to blur around the edges. 
The level of satisfaction that rolled over you when you’d finally reached the hilt was like no other. 
“Good girl.” Fred purred into your hair as George wiped away a stray tear from the corner of your eye. “Took it like a champ, didn’t she, Georgie boy?”
“Sure did, Fred. Squeezing me so nicely too.” He replied smiling proudly.
“Full- So full.” You whimpered blearily, not sure which boy you were grasping for. Each accepted one of your wandering hands, giving them an encouraging squeeze.
“You’re doing so well, babygirl. How about you let me make you feel good now, hm?” George’s voice was gruff as he patiently waited for you to nod back in response.
Soon the discomfort had melted away, leaving only the easy slide of George’s length and the gratification of being engulfed between the loves of your life. 
You promptly got lost in the jumble of mouths, hands and pleasure. 
“Gonna come for us, love?” George asked, holding your hips done to focus his thrusts. 
“Can I- Can I, please? Please let me come!” You whined desperately, unable to distinguish whose hands belonged to who.
“Go ahead, bunny.” George answered and it was all you needed to hear. Your visioned blurred as your toes curled, the only thing you could register was that he was fucking you through it. Fred’s fingers circling your clit didn’t let up until you were pathetically trying to pull at his wrist.
A weak mewl fell from your lips as George pulled out of you spent. Simpering under his praises, you closed your eyes. 
The sudden smack against your face was sobering, leaving you blurrily blinking up at Fred’s eager grin.
“I hope you didn’t think you were off the clock, bun.”
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pleasantanathema · 3 years
Text
Sinful Hymns
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Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
Warnings: Hair pulling, some rough sex, sex on a desk, religious allusions, a dash of authority kink, no spoilers past early season 1
Word Count: 4k
A/N: In celebration of Season 4 of Attack on Titan airing today, here’s a fulfilled request for Commander Handsome 💕 Thank you so much to the anon who requested this, I had so much fun writing this!
           You couldn’t sleep. There was a nagging in your mind, shadowy visions of titans ascending mountains, climbing walls—the same nightmares that plagued you ever since you joined the scouts all those years ago. You found yourself in the showers, all alone scrubbing away your sins and torments. But even a cleansing couldn’t seem to quell your thoughts, so you roamed.
           The meandering halls of the old scout regiment headquarters were cold, musty, unwelcoming even with Levi’s cleaning. Glimmering lamp light under a cracked door caught your attention, the only light you’d seen while on your stroll.
           The Commander was still awake.
           You weren’t sure what compelled you to stop, to bring your knuckles to rap against the wood of the door. You’d once been quite close with Erwin, back when you were both cadets and working your way up the ranks, but he’d become quite elusive since becoming the Commander. You’d always been interested in him, found your gaze lingering on him a little too long when was around. There was some kind of irresistible, seductive pull towards him, like if you got close enough, he might let you explore the man under the armor. You wondered if he felt it, too, or if your lust was one-sided.
          You were just too curious about what would keep him awake at night. Maybe he struggled with the same miseries you did when the nights felt too dark.
          Tentatively, you slid past the open door.
          Blue eyes caught your movement, his handsome face tilting towards you from where it was seated in his palm.
          He whispered your name, smile tugging at his cheeks.
          “Commander Smith,” you acknowledged, “you’re up quite late.”
          “Seems I’m not the only one.” There was an amusement in his voice that you couldn’t quite place.
          He leaned back in his chair as you stayed in your place, a sudden rise of bashfulness making you bite at the inside of your lip. You were sure you were pestering him; you should’ve just wandered back to your room. Your feet were ready to move, heels pressed against the floor to turn and leave at his behest.
          “Is there something I can help you with?”
          “I—no, I just couldn’t sleep. Apologies, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
          “No, you’re no bother. Rather, you’re quite a pleasant distraction at the moment,” he gestured to his desk, littered with paperwork and books opened to forgotten pages, “come in, shut the door behind you.”
           You did as you were so kindly told, clicking the door into place behind you before moving in closer. His office was warm, bathed in dim candlelight from the lamp on his desk, shadows being cast from the bookshelves that lined the walls. You noticed he was in only a white button-down and trousers, his ODM gear placed neatly on a chest behind where he sat.
          Your hands came to rest on the chair that was placed in front of his desk for his visitors. You remained standing, not quite ready to be so familiar as to just sit and talk with him. There was humor in his eyes as they scanned your figure, undoubtedly surprised to see you dressed so casually as well, simple pants and shirt being all you brought to wear after taking your late-night shower.
          “Tell me, what keeps you awake?”
           There were many answers to his question, but you erred on the side of simplicity.
           “Nightmares. What about you? What’s kept you awake tonight?”
            Erwin sighed, deep and heavy from his chest. You observed how his long fingers gripped at the armrest of his seat, knuckles white.
           “Letters. Demands from the Military Police to hand over the boy who turns into a titan, demands from royalty to execute him. But also my own curiosities. I’ve been reading to see if there are any records of anyone else like him.”
           “I see,” your tongue clicked behind your lips as you recognized the heaviness bound within his broad shoulders, “anything I can help you with?”
           He smiled fully then, white teeth curving against his pretty lips.
          “Like I said, you’re a welcome distraction. How have you been?”
           Again, there were too many ways to answer his question. But you couldn’t bring yourself to bring your burdens to him, not when he was already carrying the weight of the world upon his back.
          “Life isn’t as simple as it used to be,” not that living in this world had ever been easy.
          “No, I’m afraid it isn’t.”
           You caught an etching of the walls on his desk, details of Sina and Maria partially obscured by a leather-bound book, penciled in lines and notes scribbled around the paper’s edges. Something about it drew you in, had you moving to perch on the edge of his desk, one thigh crinkling pages of ink as your fingers deftly plucked at the drawing.
           He watched you with curiosity, eyebrows lifted as he brought a hand to his chin.
          Your nail traced against the charcoal lines, gaze scanning the comprehensive sketch of the rounded walls and the cities held within them.
         “My father used to think there was some kind of power within the walls; believed there was some unseen magic lingering within the stones to keep us safe…” you trailed off, the rest of your thoughts caught within your throat, “...I’m glad he wasn’t alive when the walls were breached, would’ve ruined the mystery for him.”
         “Was he a believer in the Church of the Walls?”
         “No,” you hummed softly, “just someone who thought there was more to the story.”
          Quite like yourself, you wanted to say, but left the words unspoken. You set the yellowing paper back on his desk, arms crossing.
          He rolled his shoulders in a quiet stretch, running a tired hand through his blonde undercut as he looked up at you. You’d always found him overwhelmingly handsome, the kind of man who changed the atmosphere of a room when he walked in. But there was always a warmth to him, like there was always something brewing, churning inside that enticing mind of his.
          “I never could understand how people could worship the walls,” he mused, shifting his weight forward, getting a little closer to where you were perched, “not when there are other, more...beautiful things to praise.”
          Heat crept up the back of your neck, your too-close proximity to him becoming all too apparent. But he kept getting closer.
          His hand found your knee, fingers trailing over the tight threads of your pants.
          The act seemed endearing, harmless, but the simple touch had your desire rearing its sordid head again. You felt emboldened, confidence swelling in your chest.
         “Then what would you worship, Erwin?”
         “I’m a man of too many sins, I doubt there’s any kind of faith that could bring me absolution.”
          Your fingers ached to touch him, your hand reaching toward his face before your mind could stop the movement. His cheek was warm, skin soft under the brush of your thumb.
          “I don’t believe that. There has to be something beautiful for you to admire…” you felt his fingers tighten against your leg, drifting higher up your thigh, pulling you in, bringing you closer.
          “I could start with you.”
          The tension snapped, splitting like a tightly strung cord between you. You heeded the call to be nearer, moving your hand to rest against his shoulder for balance as you took the initiative to settle yourself in his lap. For a moment, you worried that you pushed too far, that you’d invaded his personal space and made him uncomfortable. But those fears were battered quickly when eager hands took hold of your waist, palms spread wide as they trailed up your back.
          “I’ve always admired you from afar,” he was hushed, breath fanning over your neck, “but you’re much easier to worship up close.”
          You kissed him without a second thought. Years of attraction, of adoration, fueled your lips, your hands grasping at his jawline as he met your passion. His mouth slanted against yours ardently, impatient hands slipping under your shirt.
          You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose at the feel of his warm fingers ghosting up your skin, now suddenly very aware you hadn’t bothered to wear anything below your clothes—you thought you’d be returning to your room, not wandering into your Commander’s lap. You moaned into his mouth, his tongue slipping past your parted lips to taste you. You were overcome with too much, all your senses now flooding with Erwin, his scent, his touch, his entire being smothering you with all the attentions you had ever craved from him.
          His thumbs brushed the undersides of your breasts, a groan leaving his chest when you settled lower into his lap, your thighs draped over his own and your core pressed against his hardening cock.
          This wasn’t real—this couldn’t be real, surely you were caught up in one of your dreams again, but his lips against yours felt real, felt hungry, his large hands now cupping and holding the weight of your breasts within his hands. Your fingers carded through his hair, nails delicately raking through the roots to remind yourself that it was him, that this was real.
          “You taste like sin,” he praised, peppering kisses down the column of your throat.
          Any thought you had of replying disappeared when strong fingers pinched at your nipples, causing a heavy moan to fall out of your mouth as your head tilted back, allowing him more access to your neck. He plucked tenderly at your sensitive flesh, a noticeable smirk growing upon his lips as each tug and roll of your breasts had you gasping, whining. He quite liked that, it seemed, to be able to play you so easily.
          You mumbled curses into the air, eyes fluttering closed. You experimentally rolled your hips in his lap, an attempt to get a similar rise from him. He bared his teeth against your throat, canines nipping into your skin before pressing his lips down more forcefully, sucking and lapping at your neck. Heat bloomed from where his mouth met your body, a telling sign that you would have a mark there to remember him by. He was careful, choosing a supple spot below where the collar of your uniform would cover you tomorrow.
           Erwin’s hands released your aching breasts, moving down to grasp at the hem of your shirt.
          “Take this off,” he demanded, a string of saliva still connecting his lips to your neck.
           You dropped your hands from his hair, trailing down his broad chest before meeting his hands and pulling your shirt up over your head. It fell to the floor carelessly, the chill of the room making your skin pebble with gooseflesh.
           You took note of how his cheeks were flushed pink, blush faint across his elegant aquiline nose.
           His intimidating, icy eyes flickered up to you, making your own flush spread across your body. You felt like he was looking through you, reading your thoughts, hearing your internal screams for more. Then, his gaze fell back to your heaving breasts, hands greedily taking them again, lips wrapping around one of your nipples and making you whimper.
           You could feel his cock pressing against you now, harder and thicker than before, the ridge of it nestled against your throbbing cunt. You rolled yourself against it, delighted sounds leaving both of your mouths at the contact. His tongue swirled around your puckered nipple, teeth just barely daring to drag against your flesh. You buried your fingers into his shoulders, feeling his muscles tighten and then relax at your touch.
          “Oh-oh fuck, I—,”
          “You’re dripping,” he interrupted, one of his hands unclasping from your breast and drifting down your belly to rub at the damp spot between your legs, “I can feel you against me.”
           You shivered at the wanton touch, thighs clenching against his legs.
          “Did you come here tonight to seduce me?”
           He mumbled the words against your breast, tongue flattening against your nipple with a few long, heavy licks as his eyes flashed up to you, waiting for your response.
           “No, sir, I promise that wasn’t my,” you moaned as a thick finger slid against your clit through your clothes, “that wasn’t my intention.”
           His wet lips left your breast, coy smirk painting his face.
          “Shame, that was my plan the moment you stepped into my office.”
           You always did fall for his tricks; if only you’d known his hand against your thigh earlier wasn’t so harmless after all.
          “And how did this plan of yours end, Commander?”
           It still felt strange to call him by that title after so many years of calling him by his name, but there was something sensual about it, something alluring about his newfound authority.
           His hands were pushing at your hips, fingers crushing into your skin as he lifted you to move back.
          “With you bent over my desk.”
           It didn’t take him long to wrangle you into the position he so desired. His hands were unhurried, purposeful as he pushed you to stand, peeling your pants down your legs before pressing your face into the pile of papers on his desk. You felt so exposed, what with him being able to see your pussy on display from behind you while all you could focus on was his touch and the way the flame at the edge of his desk flickered.
           Erwin’s fingers spread the folds of your cunt, an appreciative hum sounding from his throat. You mewled at the touch, thighs shaking in your anticipation. The button to his pants popped softly, then you finally felt him, felt his hard, thick cock nudging at your entrance.
           Your hands crumpled a few pages as you searched for something to cling to. Your heart was pounding in your ears, suddenly all too aware that the Commander was still fully clothed, while you were laid out across his desk like a naked whore. One of his hands pulled at your hip, the other trailing down the expanse of your back.
           There was a boldness coming to life inside you at the realization that he’d wanted you the moment you appeared within his room.
           “Worth worshipping, Erwin?”
            You ate your words as he shoved himself inside you, stretching you to your limits as your body burned to accommodate his size. You cried out against the mass of papers, eyes blurring as pleasure burst across all of your nerve endings.
            He groaned at the feeling himself, both hands now digging into the meat of your hips.
            “Fuck,” you heard him breath in deep as he slid is cock out of you before slamming in again, “oh absolutely, darling.”
            You hadn’t heard Erwin curse before.
            But you didn’t have time to dwell on your thoughts, not with him now moving ruthlessly inside you, hips snapping against your ass with every sharp, deep thrust. Little sounds left your lips with every plunge, blissful tingles stemming from where your bodies were conjoined. You loved how you could feel the head of his fat cock dragging along your walls, thick veins throbbing under silken skin.
             You were far past believing this was a dream, now convinced you were actually in the sweet joys of a paradise beyond life.
             A coil of pleasure began to tighten within your lower stomach, hot and mean, like it was ready to tear and erupt with a rush of ecstasy. You moaned his name like a prayer, eyes closed tightly as you focused on the intensity of his cock thrusting inside you.
             You wouldn’t last long, not with the sinful hymns of his grunts and praises resounding behind you. His sounds were faint, but they were there, little rumbling of “so good, so tight,” kissing at your ears.
             God, you could die. You could die and live a happy, full life from this moment alone. You felt so whole with him inside you, felt coated with desire and praise like never before. There were bruises already forming from his grip, you could feel them, skin sore and burning beneath his massive hands.
             “You’re beautiful wrapped around my cock,” he voiced, tone deep and praising, brawny arm sweeping up your spine to fist in your hair. Your head jerked with his action, back arching as he pulled at you. You gasped at the discomfort, a dull ache forming from his too-tight grip. But the pain was overshadowed by the rivers of rapture running over your skin. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, your whole body rebounding like snapping elastic from his brutal behavior.
             The new angle had his cock slamming against that spot inside you that had your body going almost numb from the pleasure, white hot heat spreading over all your limbs, making your toes curl against the floor. You felt like you were fracturing, that thrilling tendril tightening in your belly to its breaking point. You could feel your walls sucking in his cock, your body pleading on its own.
             “Oh fuck, Commander—Erwin,” you were completely lost to the delirium, mind ruined.
            “I know,” he grunted, fingers stiffening in your hair, craning your neck back farther, “I feel you, you’re so—you’re so fucking tight.”
            You crashed down around him, your cunt clenching and pulsing in waves of euphoria, each crest making your lower muscles spasm. Your chin fell, your head only being held by the might of his hand, your brain so foggy with lust and release that you felt as if you had ascended the walls too quickly and fallen back down again. A fresh, euphoric jolt splintered down your body as he sheathed his cock fully into your depths, making your eyes flutter as your mouth opened in a glorious, blissed out state.
           Your body threatened to crumple against the desk, but he held you; the space between his palms and strong fingers was one of the safest places in the world, nothing could touch you if Erwin had you beneath his touch. The fierce tightening of your body sent him over the edge. Hot cum poured inside of you, making you cry out at the captivating feeling of being completely filled by him, the Commander’s seed pooling within your pussy. Your snug walls struggled to flutter around the girth of his cock, prolonging your orgasm and leaving you gasping for breath and basking in every dull thump of his cock inside of you.
           He gently let go of your hair, letting your spent body rest against the desk as he caught his breath. He smoothed his hands over your hips, a tinge of regret in his chest as he noticed the dark prints of his fingers etched into your skin. Erwin wasn’t used to letting go, to letting lust overtake him so mercilessly.
           You stirred after a few moments, straightening your back and finding your balance between your legs. Erwin enveloped you in his arms, hand against your cheek as he trailed his lips up your neck, capturing the side of your mouth with a fervent kiss.
          “Are you alright, darling?” Concern laced his tone, hand smoothing over your belly. You shuttered at the gentle touch, your skin cooling from sweat as you leaned back against his chest, cum sticky and crawling down your thighs.
           You still felt lost, like you were waking from the dark depths of slumber, his hands calling you to him. One palm wrapped around your neck, stroking at the column of your throat like he was helping you to find your breath.
          “Yes, yes I’m…,” you couldn’t think of the words to describe just how you felt. It was like you’d finally been cleansed, every grievous thought expunged from your mind, but also like you’d fallen back into the past, back into your daydreams of wishing Erwin would press you against the barracks wall and smothering his name from your mouth.
         “It is yes sir, to you, don’t forget I’m your superior now,” he teased between nips and kisses, a smile brushing against your skin.
         You turned in his arms, pressing your naked chest against his wrinkled shirt, the cotton soft against your breasts. You stood on your toes to try and match his height, molding your lips to his, stealing his grin and making it your own.
          “I could never forget, not with such a display of power,” you affirmed, seriousness apparent on your tongue. You knew he could take anything he wanted from you, and you were more than willing to lay yourself bare for him whenever he pleased.
          You expected there to be a stillness between you, a moment of reflection after such a callous coupling. But Erwin’s hands were greedy, selfish, cupping and kneading at the soft flesh of your ass, of the side of your breast. You were small in his shadow; a miniscule frame being devoured by a starved predator.
          “I want to see just how well you obey orders. Go to my quarters and wait for me, I’m not finished with you yet.”
           Your head nodded accordingly, your knees ready to kneel to the floor and gather your forgotten garments. But Erwin kept his fingers in your flesh, preventing you from moving from his hold when you tried.
           “Ah, I don’t think you need your clothing, not when you’ll just be shedding it again so soon.”
           There was a playful glint in his eyes, his eyebrows thoughtfully pressed together as he tried to gauge your response.
           “Erwin,” his hands cinched around your body, an acute reminder, “sir, I can’t...walk to your room naked.”
           He patted your backside before he sat back into the chair behind his desk, cock tucked neatly back into his pants. There was still a pretty blush tingeing his cheeks, his lips plump and dark pink from all their time spent sucking at your skin. You almost wanted to cover yourself under his scrutinizing gaze, icy irises roaming your body like a piece of art bought and hung on a wall for his viewing pleasure.
           “It’s late, there shouldn’t be anyone to find you,” he relaxed, arms crossing across his chest, “but, if you happen to be unfortunate, remind them that you are under your Commander’s orders.”
           Erwin took a sick delight in watching your eyes narrow at him, your lips pursing in slight irritation; but he knew you wouldn’t dare disobey him, you’d always been too good of a soldier for that, and now a promising plaything.
           He couldn’t help but survey your body as you walked towards the door, delicious curves and marks from his skin on an alluring display, his cum still flowing down your thighs. You’d be a blessed sight to anyone who got the privilege to see you on your journey to his sleeping quarters, a goddess floating down the corridors.
           You looked over your shoulder at him when you opened the door, catching his diligent gaze and matching it. He always thought you’d be amusing to toy with and you’d proven that with how easily you could match his intensity.
           “You shouldn’t be up so late, Commander Smith, nothing good happens after midnight.”
           He hid the smirk behind his hand as you left his office the same as you entered, only bare-skinned and with a new, more suitable destination.
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kokonoisgf · 3 years
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Falling - Gojo Satoru x Reader
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!!! MINORS DNI !!! 18+ content ahead
+ this kinda really flopped on ao3, so I’ll repost it here hehe. I wrote this a while back but i’m still super proud of it!! I hope you guys like it too <3
+ explicit sexual content, fem reader, porn w plot <3
+ too lazy to proofread- 
+ w.c : 8.2k
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The music blared, drowning you in what seemed like a never-ending playlist of pop music. Mass of sweaty bodies mingled on the dance floor, while you relaxed at the bar, sipping on your heavily alcoholic cocktail. Lights flashed alternating between different shades of fuchsia, blue, green, and violet to the beat of the song. Your face felt warm, feeling bubbly in the pit of your stomach, gaze darting toward your friends having a blast on the dance floor with strangers. You grinned, leaning your head in the palm of your hand, planning to go join them once you'd be done with your drink. Your black bodycon dress rilled up your thighs, exposing the sweet delicate skin of your slender legs, which, unbeknownst to you, had men's ogling you left and right. A specific group of 3 men's had their eyes on you by the entrance, snickering. Their gaze held something malicious, but you were too tipsy to take notice of that or even care. You got cut out of your little trance by your friends coming back to you, smelling of a mix of alcohol and perfume. "We'll be heading back now Y/N" "Aw really? I was about to join you" You fake pouted, not really minding as you'd just go binge watch some of your favorite shows at home instead. Taking your hands, their heavily drunk self dragged you outside, all beaming and laughing. A couple of men's followed suit, you paid it no mind knowing that your friends were most likely taking them home. You made them promise to call you, and share their location on their phones as they exited in their respective cabs kissing your cheeks goodbye, their partner for the night following. you wrapped your black fur coat around yourself tighter, taking your phone off to dial a cab for yourself. You felt stares drill a hole into your body, the coat tightly wrapped around yourself only highlighting your delicious curves. As you were composing the cab's phone number you got rudely interrupted by someone snatching your phone away. Yelping, it took you a second to realize what was going on, your drunkness still hitting you with full force. In front of you stood three men, the one in the middle holding your pink cellphone between his digits. Their faces were disgusting, looking at you like you were nothing but prey on their list. Eyes glossy most likely from their alcohol intake, they reeked of cheap cologne and sweats. "Leaving alone tonight sweetheart?" one purred in a sultry voice, you backed away crossing your arms over your chest defensively. The alcohol in your system gave you a confidence you never knew you possessed "Give me back my phone, now." The males snickered, as the middle one shook his head dropping it in his pockets. "Not with that attitude, anyways what're you going to do about it-" he paused, stepping forward, desperately trying to close the distance between you two. You gasped, taking another step back almost falling, your vision was blurry, your senses weakened. You mentally cursed for going so heavily on the drinking, feeling yourself wobble. A shiver racing up your spine, the sudden gust of wind hit you, not to mention the snowflakes falling on your face and bare legs. "Leave me alone!" You faltered, eyes darting for anyone that could be of help, but everyone seemed in a daze too engrossed with the muffled music, or busy making out with a stranger. "Hey honey, are those creeps bothering you?" The sweetest voice resonated throughout your ears, feeling your back lend against something warm. A hand snaked around your waist pulling you closer to their protective figure, making sure that you were stable. "H-Huh--" You stuttered, blinking in confusion, looking up at the person behind you. He was tall, really tall, with locks the same color as snowflakes, a bandana covering his eyes. He wore a jean jacket over a dark top, with beige pants. It didn't take you more than one glance to notice that he was really handsome. Your eyes lingered a bit on the bandana, wondering if he possibly was blind, before grasping a hold of the situation. "Y-Yes they are" playing your part, you snuggled closer into his chest, relishing in the warmth he provided. Your voice was low, glaring daggers at the men's, holding unto your savior for dear life. His digit slowly caressed your arm, until he interlocked fingers with yours, walking up to the guys. His aura was intimidating, leaning down to be at eye level with them. You gulped down, he must have been 6' tall at least or something. "Now then, I'd like to have my girlfriend's phone back now" He grinned, extending his free hand, palm open. The large hand holding yours gave a light squeeze, seeming to thank you for your cooperation. Suddenly, as the trio carefully analyzed who was standing in front of them, their faces paled, all color draining leaving them as white as your savior's locks. Tilting your head to the side, you couldn't help but wonder if he was somehow known around here. "W-Wait Is that-" "Uh- Yes it's-" The trio almost started shaking like leaves, quickly handing back the phone. It wasn't long until they were out of sight, running inside the club, mingling back into the crowd. You beamed, as he turned back to you, towering above your small frame handing you back your belonging. You thanked him, letting your gaze linger on his face. His nose and tip of his ears were slightly pinkish due to the snow falling, his lips rosy-tinted. You couldn't help but stare in a daze, still wondering if he was blind. Your eyes scanned his surroundings for any signs of a cane or something, but none to avail. Nonetheless, your tipsy brain concluded, without any proof, that the man indeed lacked sight. Taking your sweet time to scan his face and gorgeous locks, you couldn't help but blush, he really was extremely good looking there was no denying it. "You know, you're actually pretty cute staring at me like that." A grin plastered against his lips, he tilted his head to the side, chuckling. You yelped, covering your mouth with the back of your free hand. "W-Wait you're not blind-" If that was even possible, his grin widened, "Luckily for me I'm not" he paused, giving another squeeze to your interlocked hands, reminding you that you were still holding hand with a complete stranger you'd met a mere 5 minutes ago. You couldn't help but gasp again, sweet melodic sounds escaping your lips. His thumb rubbed soothing circles on your cold skin, leaning down, now at eye level with you, "You see, I'm glad I still have perfect vision to admire the sight in front of me right now" Your blush deepened, looking off to the side, trying to save your pride as much as you could. His words were swooning you way more than they should, was it the alcohol? or was it this mysterious aspect of him? But most importantly, how silly were you to even assume that he was blind after he just helped you, ugh curse your foolish little brain. You blamed it on his handsome features, must have gotten you distracted or something. "Smooth talker aren't you" you grimaced at him, cheeks reddish for being so fervently exposed to checking him out blatantly. You started to let go of his hand, even if you clearly didn't want to. Something about him entranced you, making you want to know more about him, even if he was just a mere stranger. "I was fine with holding hand, but if you insist" He teased in a sing-song voice, taking notice in the way you held your coat so closely to your frame. Shivers racked through your body, never imagining that you'd been waiting outside for so long, your outfit clearly not appropriate for this icy weather. "Here," You blinked, eyes glued to the man offering you his dark jean jacket. It was clearly oversized for you, yet you could smell his cologne and it enticed you to accept it. Snowflakes started falling on his broad shoulder, reflecting the light from the club's neon signs. "But, you'll be cold, '' you muttered, trying to put up a fight, knowing damn well you were freezing to the bones. "On the contrary, I'm pretty hot. Don't you think?" Your cheeks flared, it was as if he was reading your every thought. Huffing you wrapped the jacket around yourself, nuzzling your face into it trying to keep your face from freezing. "Do you want me to inflate your ego that badly?" "Well, you kinda already did considering how you were staring at me earlier sweetheart" He grinned, hand coming to shake off the snow from his hair. Your blush increased tenfold, his flirty behavior really getting to you. "Shut up I wasn't-" you retorted in a futile attempt to gain some dignity back, looking off to the side pouting. Leaning down, his scent swirled around you, face mere centimeters away from yours. You gulped, eyes scanning his delicate face: his lips seemed so soft, a thin coat of lips balm covering them, you wondered how it tasted. What was his favorite flavor, cherry? or maybe strawberry? "There you go again, ah so cute." He teased, proving himself right once again, his hot breath ghosting over your face smelling of mint and candy. Covering your cheeks with your hand, it felt like your face was on fire. "You talk too much" A chuckle escaped his parted lips, a fake pout now plastered on his handsome feature "Ah so mean to me" you couldn't hold back a giggle at the way he said it, hand coming to cover your mouth. The snowstorm went on, as you took your phone out of your pocket, unlocking it to look at the time. 1:15 a.m showed on the screen, your battery settling at a low 10%. Pursing on your lips, you didn't want this moment to end, completely enticed by this stranger but you had to call a cab before your phone died on you. Curse you for forgetting your charger as always. "You know, I'm a pretty good driver, I can drive you home if you'd like" His proposition took you aback, was this man really capable of reading your every thought? You couldn't possibly fathom what made this handsome stranger be so interested in you, your mind still a bit hazy from your previous drinks. Pursing on your lips, you definitely wanted to spend more time with him, yet feeling bad to make him become your personal driver before even knowing his name. "Are you're sure? I'd feel bad making you drive me home, plus I live quite far" you muttered sheepishly hands fondling with the hem of his jacket. "Anything for a pretty lady, and besides if you live too far-" He paused stepping closer, a hand coming to push back a strand of hair that the harsh winter breeze had pushed into your face, "It so happens that I live really close by" You stood there in shock, as this attractive stranger so blatantly exposed wanting to take you home. You gulped down, eyes scanning his face for any signs of it being mere teasing. Yet, he seemed honest, a grin still covering his face. "You really are a smooth talker" giggling, you nodded accepting his proposition fervently. Was it because of your semi-drunk state or the thoughts of what could possibly happen over at his house, you clearly had no intention of refusing his delightful offer. Everything about him made your core feel warm, yet you knew so little. Starting to walk toward his car, you stopped in astonishment at the sheer luxury of the vehicle. He beamed, opening your door for you, settling your purse into your lap sitting on the dark leather seat. You played with the strap of your bag, waiting for him to join you on the conductor side. As he sat, and closed his door his scent mingled with you, making the apple of your cheeks darken. "You're too damn adorable you know that?" You yelped, catching him gazing at you, putting his seatbelt on. "look who's talking-" You muttered to yourself unbeknownst that this man seemed to possess super hearing chuckling at your response. "Being called adorable is definitely a first, but I'll take it if it comes from you" His large veiny hand opened the vents, warm air now flooding inside the car, you sighed in delight. "Also sweetheart, I wouldn't want to bring a lady home before at least knowing her name" He paused, letting his head rest in the palm of his hand, "you know I do am a well-mannered man after all" He slyly said, head tilted to the side. His gorgeous ivory locks slightly damped considering the snowflakes that melted. Tongue darting out to lick your dried up lips from the cold, you blushed "L/N Y/N" "Ah L/N Y/N, sounds like music to my ear, I'm Gojo Satoru" ❄❄❄ Opening up the Bluetooth station he turned his head, most likely shooting you a glance under his bandana. "I hope you got any good music Y/N, you'll be our DJ for the ride" A grin formed on his lips as you started beaming. "Of course I do!" You retorted confidently, connecting to the Bluetooth at the speed of light. He hummed, starting the car, the scent of leather mingling with your own. As you put on your favorite song, he shouted "No way! You listen to Megan Thee Stallion? I knew there was something I liked about you sweetheart" Your heart thumped in your chest, feeling like it might burst out. His blatant honesty was striking you right in the heart. He really knew how to transform you into a blushing mess. "You got good taste too, She's really fire" your eyes twinkled, relinquishing in this feeling. Humming, Gojo turned to you, sticking his tongue out to you, "I know I got good taste Y/N, that's why you're coming back home with me after all" You swore you could saw him wink under his bandana, your blush increasing tenfold. You playfully, hit his arm, grimacing back at him, letting the music surround the both of you. As the chorus hit, Gojo was fully vibing, dancing to the sound. One hand on the wheel, he sang the rapping part perfectly, moving his upper body sensually to the beat of the song. His hair moved alongside him, chest huffing as he sang. You got entranced, eyes glued to him, seeing him drive with one hand, was somehow so sexy making your heart flutter. Starting to sing alongside him, he shot you a glance, grinning widely, the drive to his home way better than your whole clubbing experience so far. ❄❄❄ His apartment was extremely spacious, to say the least. The walls were covered in large windows, a spacious leather couch, and what seemed like at least a 60 inches television on the wall. The floor was a sublime chestnut wood, walls as snowy as his hair. A few plants adorned the corners of the apartment the whole thing reminding you of what you'd see in magazines or on the internet. You couldn't hold back your amazement, mouth forming an o shape, which made Gojo chuckle. Taking off his shoes, he proceeded to Drop the keys on the counter. He stretched, "Can I offer you something to drink?", face buried in his huge fridge, seeming to push bottles around from the sounds of it. You left both your coat and his jean jacket on a nearby chair, shoes neatly placed next to his, letting it dry up from the snowstorm outside, turning to him. Your dress hugged your curve to perfection, the small material barely covering what needed to be covered, stopping above mid-thighs. You wore a gold necklace, with gold hoops earrings your hair falling down your back, your collarbones full exposed. "Hmmm" You pondered, walking up to him, standing on your tiptoes trying to see something. Feeling your presence behind him, Gojo risked a glance in your direction, his smirk widening tenfold. "Are you trying to make me fall for you by looking like that darling? Because honestly, it's working 100 percent" pursing on his lips, his tongue darted out to wet them, your gaze instantly following suit. You felt your face erupt once again "H-Huh! It's not like that, I just wanted to dry up our coats" You stammered trying to defend yourself, arms flailing in front of you. He chuckled, gaze devouring you under the dark fabric that covered his eyes. Crossing your arms over your chest you grimaced at him, "Do you have white wine by any chance?" He nodded, "Of course my lady" moving the bottles around, deciding on one. Dropping it on the table he reached for one of the cupboards above his fridge, getting two glasses. You watched him in astonishment, a slight blush dusting your cheeks. He seemed to take notice in your endeavor as per usual, grinning "Something caught your eye sweetheart?" he remarked, pouring you a glass. You huffed, looking off to the side defensively, "You're just very attractive that's all..." You muttered the last part, which only seemed to inflate his never-ending ego. Cutting him off before he dared crack another flirty joke, you asked "How tall are you?" your curiosity was getting the best of you, as you sipped on the drink, the warmth of it enveloping you. He was so mysterious, the only thing you knew about him was his name, yet it was like you were craving for more. It wasn't like you to be that way, not usually caring what your partner for the night liked to drink, or what his favorite tv show was, but for the snowy-haired man in front of you, you'd actually memorize those facts in a heartbeat. He had you entranced, muddy in the palm of his hand. He leaned against the kitchen counter, leaning down, letting his head rest in the palm of his hand. "Thank you, you're pretty damn gorgeous yourself, and I'm around 6'3 I would say" He grinned being completely obvious to the fact that his height was a major turn on, bringing the drink to his lips. Your eyes followed his glass, gulping down. You scrunched your nose, a hand coming to twirl a piece of your hair. "Any other question darling?" He teased, taking his sweet time into savoring the intoxicating liquid. You knew damned well what you wanted to know, something you'd been wondering ever since you laid your gaze on him. "Yes actually, since you claim not being blind, what color are your eyes" You were getting bold, bolder than you'd usually be, the alcohol reigniting the fire inside you. If that was even possible, his smirk grew wider, head tilted to the side, "Oh, that's something I get asked a lot, so I'll give you 2/10 for the originality" He paused chuckling, taking another sip. You pouted stepping closer, your mind was running wild, what color could his beautiful irises be? Forest green? Ocean blue? or maybe coffee-colored ones? It was burning you on the inside, like an insatiable itch that you couldn't get rid of. "Does every girl ask you that?" You teased, feeling a slight pinch of jealousy scraping your heart. He laughed, instantly taking notice "ah you're too obvious, already getting jealous about my whereabouts aren't you?" Your face caught on fire at his words, your blush probably the color of the cherries on the kitchen counter by now. He twirled the glass in his hand, satisfied with the response he elicited from you before saying: "They do ask, but I rarely show anyone" He paused taking a sip, tongue licking up a droplet that was running down the glass. He had gotten strangely serious for the first time since your meeting, "But for you, I'd make an exception". You were taken aback, scanning his face for signs of it being a mere joke, but once again the man seemed utterly honest. You wondered if there was a specific reason as to why he hid his eyes, but you decided upon not asking now, it was rather too soon, and not of your business. He straightened himself, now towering above you. "On one condition, I'll let you do the honor of taking it off, deal?" He grinned coming back to his natural goofy self, seeming to take pleasure in your state. Your anticipation was killing you, feeling it in the pit of your stomach, nodding fervently ready to accept any condition if it meant seeing what was underneath that damned piece of fabric. As your hand reached for the material, standing on your tiptoes, the man caught your wrist giving it a slight squeeze. "Oh! but take a guess first" He stuck his tongue at you, as you visibly grumped, "You said one condition" You argued back, letting your heels fall back on the wooden floor, his long fingers still holding on to you. His hand was radiating warmth, making you miss your situation earlier when you were in his embrace. "hmm--" you pondered, taking a good look at his face. He would be handsome with any eye color really, yet you were taking so much fun into guessing it, trying to picture every possibility unto his face. Really wanting to win this little competition, you decided to go with what seemed like your safest bet. "I'll go with brown!" you beamed, feeling confident. That was until his grin widened, letting go of your hand. He waved his finger, seeming to wink under his bandana "We'll see about that '' You pursed your lips, feeling as if you had taken the wrong option, from his remark. Grasping a hold of the hem of his shirt you tugged on it slightly, "lean down a bit you're too tall" You complained, to which he obliged, literally going down on his knees. "Weren't you swooning over my height just a moment ago?" He teased, proceeding to imitate in a high pitched tone what was supposed to be your voice: "How tall are you?" Your embarrassment was out of bound, cheeks burning for being so blatantly exposed yet again, he really had no mercy in store for you. "Shut it- I have more important things to focus on right now" You retorted, earning a chuckle from him. He was right in front of you, a bit below eye level now, but you were finally able to take a good look at his angelic feature, which only made your heartbeat boosts tenfold. You had never met, or even seen, someone as good looking as him. What was his deal though? Taking such a liking to you, yes he did protect you from these creeps but now he was just fueling your fantasies and dreams even more. "Anytime now darling" He burst your bubble, bringing you back to reality, your hands darting toward the material. Sliding one finger underneath, you felt your hands shake a little. Was it because of all this built up anticipation, or was it because you were afraid that you'd actually fall even more for him when you'll see his full features? Slowly pulling it down, Gojo remained silent, smirking, probably planning something mischievous. As the material fell down, now hanging around his neck, you peered before almost shouting at the sight: his eyes were closed. "Oh my god- Open your eyes! You can't do this to me-" Midway into your childlike tantrum, laughter escaped his parted lips, eyes opening. The sight literally knocked the air out of your lungs, You stood there star-struck, your gaze melting into his. You couldn't believe your eyes, your mind refusing to process what was right in front of you. Beautiful sapphire irises looked back at you, adorned with full lashes as white as his hair. Was there something this guy didn't have?! Your mouth stayed slightly open, silence filling the apartment. Not only that, but also his hair had fallen down, now framing his delicate face so perfectly. Locks of snowy hair contrasting with his slightly tanned skin. He looked back at you, head tilting to the side before waving a hand in front of your face. "You still alive Y/N?" He teased, eyes twinkling, taking off the bandana fully and settling it on the counter. "Your eyes, they're gorgeous" you muttered, you wanted to say so much more but you were still processing how utterly beautiful that man was. It struck you right in the heart, as now, whenever his glance caught yours, you'd feel the apple of your cheeks heat up even more than before. "Thank you, I got quite the genes I admit." He cockily replied, taking a sip of wine, eyelashes fluttering. Your regard was glued to him, walking to the counter to get your glass, scooting closer to him in the process. You felt the need to compliment him more, was it because of the intoxicating alcohol now pulsating through your veins, you didn't know, but your mouth opened nonetheless: "Is that why you never show your eyes? You're afraid that girls will fall for you left and right?" You taunted grimacing, thinking you'd gotten back at him for being such a tease himself before it dawned on you that your big mouth had gotten you into quite the messy situation. Humming, Gojo leaned on the kitchen counter, his eyes flickering under the light, "So basically," He almost purred, running a hand through his ivory locks, "You just admitted falling for me. Did I hear you right, honey?" His face arbored the biggest grin you'd ever seen, knowing full well he had you under the spotlight right there, while his overly handsome self sipped on his drink. He was mere centimeters away, his scent completely intoxicating you. You cursed yourself for being so light-headed, your silly self not knowing to think twice before saying something. The alcohol had all subdued, not feeling any signs of being drunk or tipsy either, and yet you were still silly. Flashes from your earlier situation appeared in your mind, hoping you'd get to be in his embrace soon enough. Yet, you couldn't inflate his ego more than it was, his head would probably implode at this rate. As you were about to retort back, he shushed you placing a finger on your lips, "Shush, it's okay baby, I'm kinda falling for you too you know" He smirked, his digit caressing the smooth skin of your rosy lips. You were star struck, gaze melting into his, his touch lighting a fire within you. You had this growing urge to just please him, let him dominate you fully. The alcohol ignited lust, slowly opening your mouth, taking his digit inside your mouth. His eyes gleamed, now half-lidded, a low moan escaping his lips. Your tongue swirled and licked his long finger, feeling yourself get soaked at the thoughts of it inside you. His gaze never left the show in front of him, slowly coming to bit down on his lips. The mere sensation of your tongue against his digit made his length throb in his pants. You pulled away with a wet satisfying 'pop', gaze swirling with lust. His other hand came to grab your chin slightly, tilting it upward. The mere action made your core feel warm, already submitting entirely to him. He leaned down, bringing the finger that was previously in your mouth, into his. Never breaking eye contact with you, he hummed tasting yourself off his finger, before saying: "Don't get me wrong sweetheart, that indirect kiss was pretty hot, but I'd rather be doing this." And with that, he instantly crashed his lips on yours. You couldn't hold back a moan, all the built-up anticipation hitting you full force. His lip balm smelling of cherry, one of your hands came to rest on his shoulder feeling his muscles underneath the dark fabric. Damn, he was a good kisser, tongue swirling around yours, leaving nothing untouched. It was rare for you to feel yourself get soaked already from just a kiss, but this man seemed to possess supernatural powers or something. His thumb rubbed soothing patterns on your cheek, his tongue lapping at your lips eliciting yet another sinful moan from you. Taking this opportunity, Gojo slide his tongue into your mouth leaving nothing untouched. Towering above you, one of his hand slid down your back, resting on the back of your waist. Breaking away from the kiss, he panted, eyes twinkling. "May I gorgeous?" The hand resting on your waist gave a slight squeeze indicating what he meant. You blushed at his behavior, obviously agreeing. Large palms slide down the small of your back, fingers digging into your plump rear. The man almost let out a moan, eyelashes fluttering feeling your curves under his touch. His reaction only fueled your lust, even more, desire swirling into your irises locking gaze with him. A glance was all you needed to understand Gojo, as you jumped wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands instantly planted themselves on your ass supporting you, taking their time to feel you up, leaving nothing untouched. His touch was like fire, making you moan from its simplest movement, making a chuckle erupt from him. "Don't stop making those noises for me baby" He ordered, lips crashing back down on yours. You could only hum, your fingers tangled into his snowy white hair. Tugging on his locks slightly, the man groaned grinding his already fully erect cock on your panties. You gasped in the kiss, which the man didn't hesitate to take advantage of his tongue swirling in your mouth. Your dress had obviously rilled up, your bare ass now barely covered. As you deepened the kiss, saliva mixing with his, you felt him start walking toward the back of his apartment where you had noticed his room earlier. However, you were wrong to assume that he would have made it this far, no, not with how utterly hot you looked right now. Dropping your body on the couch, he nestled in between your legs. Encaging you between his arms, one of his large hands grasped both of your wrists pinning them up above your hand. He had such long fingers that both of your wrists seemed like merely nothing in his hands. Breaking the kiss for air, the man panted above you. His warm breath hitting the tip of your nose, his forehead leaning on yours. His eyes were half-lidded, looking at you with pure desire swirling in them. The clear Saphire blue you had seen earlier had subdued to a more animalistic hue, pupils almost blown out, leaving barely any of the ocean like color to be seen.
You stood there in awe, gaze melting into his. He seemed like the embodiment of absolute perfection, and at that moment you just wanted to please him. Struggling to free your wrists you raised your hips grinding them against his clothed cock, eliciting a moan from the man above you. "Let me touch you please" You begged, lashes fluttering as you repeated your movement again, feeling his member twitch within the confine of his pants. Gojo smirked, raising an eyebrow at your needy tone, "I can't possibly refuse if you ask that nicely sweetheart". He teased, his vice grip on your wrists disappearing, taking this opportunity you turned him around sitting snugly on his hips. You grinned mischievously making sure to sit exactly on his large cock, feeling it twitch once again. God, he was hard, and he seemed so big it made your core swirl at the thoughts of him railing the absolute shit out of you. Gojo crossed his arms behind his neck, taking his sweet time to look you up and down, his usual grin covering his feature. It subdued quickly when your hands swiftly unzipped his pants dragging them down, making sure to drag your finger across his entire length. pursing on his lips, the man let out a moan, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "you're so big" You praised, not caring about inflating his ego. I mean, he deserved it right? That man was literally the most handsome guy you had ever come across, you just wanted to shower him with praises. He smirked, flashing you a wink "Oh? Am I really?" He teased in a sing-song voice playing coy. You only giggled, pulling down his black underwear, his cock colliding with his abdomen. Gojo hissed as the cold air hit his member, eyes half-lidded awaiting your next move with impatience. His dick was way beyond average both in length and girth. Tip rosy from being hard for so long, a bead of precum leaked slowly running down his entire length. You almost drooled at the sight, taking your sweet time to look at his cock, one finger coming to scoop the precum bringing it into your mouth. You moaned your tongue swirling and twirling around your digit, already intoxicated by his delicious taste. "Let me taste you again baby" he ordered his voice low, as he sat up. Taking his finger out of your mouth, you extended your arm forward, Gojo grabbing a hold of your wrist, tongue extending, licking the digit clean. He hummed lowly, eyes locked with yours as he did so. Pink muscle leaving no surface of his finger untouched, he moaned your name before leaning back down. "Suck me" You felt your heart rate spike up, your juice leaking from your core at the mere order from Gojo. You nodded, eyes dropping to his rock hard cock, hands settling on the base. Your tongue darted out, licking a clean stripe from the base to his engorged tip, mouth closing on it. You twirled your tongue a couple of times, feeling his large hands grab a hold of your hair. "That's my good girl" The mere words made you moan around his cock, the vibration only intensifying the pleasure for Gojo who threw his head back against the couch. Taking as much as you possibly could fit of his dick in your mouth, your hands moved around his shaft and balls desperately trying to bring him the utmost pleasure. It was working as groans and growls, escaped from Gojo's parted lips, half-lidded eyes never breaking away from you. "You look so good taking my cock like that baby-" He paused, hands massaging your scalp as if thanking you for the absolute best blow job he had, "but it's my turn now" and with that, he pulled you away from his cock, a thin string of saliva connecting you to his member. Leaning up he didn't hesitate a single second to capture your lips again into a kiss, a hand caressing your cheek guiding you back down under him. "You did amazing" He whispered, making you blush, "Thank y-" You squealed, feeling him drag you on the edge of the couch, your legs dangling off of it. “Now then, spread those pretty legs for me won't you?” He licked his lips, the cherry lips balm coating his velvety muscle. You couldn’t help but comply, long digits sliding across your soaked panties, index finger flicking where he knew exactly where your bundle of nerve was. He chuckled lowly, a thin coat of lust covering his sapphire irises. His fingers were already shiny with your essence, and he hadn’t even made direct contact with your core yet. “So wet for me already baby, did you enjoy sucking my cock that much?” He teased, knowing damned well the answer already. The silver-haired man hooked his fingers on the side of your panties, mouth almost watering at the sight of your glistening folds. You mewled, eyes glassy trying to push your core closer to him, eliciting yet another dark chuckle from him. “Needy little thing” his voice was coated with lust, azure eyes locking with yours. One of his long finger slowly parted your folds, collecting your glistening essence on his finger before plopping it in his mouth. He moaned, tasting you, “You taste even better than I’d imagined” “Stop teasing me” You managed to mutter between moans, a grin spreading on his face at your voice. Tilting his head to the side, his index finger twirled around your pearl never giving it the attention it oh so desired. “Beg for it” His voice was raspy, blowing hot air on your clit before flashing you a wink. Your cheeks, well your whole being, felt on fire. “Please eat me out-” You whimpered out, hoping it was enough to satisfy him. Your mind was into a frenzy, thoughts and sentences jumbling into one another, unable to form cohesive sentences. Chuckling, he pressed a soft kiss to your inner right thigh, “Tell me if i’m wrong but, a good girl like you can do better, right?” You threw your head back against his satin pillow, he really was playing hard to get. “ God Gojo please- just make me cum over your tongue already, I need you so badly!” You screamed out in frustration, fists clenching. At that point you didn’t care about anything but to feel his warm tongue on you, tasting your juices Cock twitching at your words, the sorcerer felt his own self restraint slowly crumble to pieces. He just wanted to take you right there, right now, to dick you down until you couldn’t walk anymore. He wanted to break you. You couldn't hold back the moan as you felt his breath hover right above your clit, “So obedient” he praised, before his tongue darted out licking a clean strip, before latching unto your bundle of nerves. Your reaction was instant, head thrown back as a fountain of moans of his name echoed within the room. Gojo felt his self restraint crumble to pieces, every pores in his body aching for him to bend you into a mating press and drill ino your pretty pussy. Yet, at the same time, the way your juices leaked around his mouth drove him to the brinks of insanity. Sapphire gaze darting back and forth between your glistening folds and your flushed face, he soon felt himself grind his aching cock against the side of the bed, desperately seeking friction. Your hands soon found themselves tangled into his ivory locks, only pressing him closer and closer to your soaked core. “G-Gojo” You cooed, feeling your release build up incredibly fast. Damn he was good, there was no denying it. The way he softened his tongue just enough to roll and lap at your clit, while his large hands spread your thighs, nails digging into your plush skin. The man was eating you out as if it was his last meal. “Yes my darling?” He purred, not breaking the contact with your pussy, hot air from his words only pushing you closer to the edge, the pet name not helping either. Noticing the way your cunt quivered at his word, the sorcerer raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Oh? Are pet names your weakness, my love?” He asked, even as he already knew the answer. His melodic voice would have been enough alone to push you into bliss, but right before you could cum, thighs shaking and hips stuttering, he pulled away. His keen eyes knew, right away the signs of your oh so awaited orgasm, only to deny it so sweetly. Your eyebrows furrowed, and before you could even retort about your stolen orgasm, the man was pinning you down, lips crashing unto yours. “God- you drive me crazy you know.” His sweet words made you swoon, however you tried as best as possible to keep reminding yourself that the man probably had partners left and right. I mean, with his look and absolute perfect personality? Who wouldn’t want him? You had to keep yourself grounded, or at least try to. One of his hand coming to stroke the side of your cheek brought you back to reality, as his forehead laid on yours. His cerulean eyes gazing into yours, before you felt the tip of his cock align with your drenched cunt. “Is this okay?” He murmured, holding himself up with one hand which only accentuated his biceps. You couldn’t help but nodd, of course you wanted him to rearrange your insides, to mold you into his cock. “I need to hear it dear” He pressed a kiss on your forehead, head tilted to the side, surprisingly patiently awaiting your response. Leaning up slightly, you captures his lips in yet another kiss before sliding your hand between your bodies and grasping his cock. “Fuck me before I do it myself” Gojo’s eyebrow raised, before he chuckled darkly. Taking a hold of your wrist he pinned them both above your head, one large hand way more than enough to hold them tightly into places. “Can’t leave you unsatisfied now, can I” and with that he pushed his length into you. You swore you could feel the tip of his cock hit your cervix, molding your insides to his dick. The stretch was slightly painful, but oh dear god it felt amazing. Hips now flush against yours, he leaned back slightly discarding his shirt, throwing it on the floor somewhere. His kin glistened with a thin layer of sweat, muscles defined and flexing under the pleasure he was currently under. Noticing your lingering gaze his hand grasped your knees throwing them over his shoulder. You yelped, before he pressed a kiss against your ankle. “Look at me baby” He purred before drilling into your core. Your mewled and gasped, hands desperately seeking to hold unto dear life. His cock quite literally rearrnged your insides, Gojo looking down at your through his ivory lashes, lips stuck between his teeth. He was slightly silent asides from some pants and grunts here and there, as he wished to hear every little sound you made. Nails digging into your thighs, he let out a low groan as his pace never faltered, gaze darting between your pussy eagerly sucking him up and your fucked out face. “You’re taking me so well” He purred, before his hips came to meet yours at a rougher pace, almost sending you flying into the headboard if it wasnt for his hold unto your thighs. “So good to me-” His voice broke as he let out another groan. Your mewls and moans only spurred him on, before a trembling hand reached toward his face. “K-Kiss me-” You managed to mumble between incoherent babbles as he fucked your brain out. Gojo smirked, before gently dropping your knees and leaning down eagerly sealing your lips into yet another kiss. “Dont go and fall for me now-” He whispered between choked out groans, a sly smirk plastered on his features. As your hands tangled themselves into his locks he bit down on his lips, gaze lingering on your face. The way your cheeks burned and glossy eyes stared back at him, Gojo couldn’t help but latch his lips unto the soft skin of your neck earning a yelp from you. His cocky personality had subdued, leaving a rather soft persona underneath. Hips stuttering, he felt yourself clench tighter around him only signalling that you’d soon back into pure bliss. There was no way that he’d ever finish before you, prioritizing the needs of his partners way before his own. A string of moans fell from your lips as his bit down and sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. Feeling him smirk against your skin, he lapped at the spot teasingly “You’re gonna cum on my cock baby?” He cooed, blowing hot air, pace never faltering in the slightest. You could only manage a weak nodd, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the sheer pleasure cursing through your veins. A loud moan of his name fell from your lips as you felt yourself unravel on his dick. Gojo groaned feeling you spasm around his cock, draging himself into the bliss as well. Leaning down he kissed you, encaging you between his arms as he rutted into your oversensitive pussy, hot milky cum tainting your walls white. “Fuck-” He cursed, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his, dick twitchnig into the depths of your cunt. It wasnt long until he let himself fall on top of you burying his head into the crook of your neck. Not even bothering to take his cock out, Gojo pressed feather like kisses all over your now hickey covered skin, eliciting a small giggle from you. “That was amazing” You purred, one hand running up and down his bare back. It was rare for the man to be so relaxed after such encounter, not that he’d usually ask his partner to seek themselves out of his house but, this time it felt different. “Thank you, thank you” Came his smug reply, before he lifted his face cerulean eyes locking with yours. Taking his dick out from inside your cum soaked core, He grinned, before rolling you over so you were now laying by his side, head resting on top of his chest. Your heart was hammering against your chest, as if clarity was hitting you full force. Here you were, snuggling with this handsome man you had met earlier, and yet you felt like you’ve known him forever. “Ah- what a bad host I am. Let me clean you up” Gojo suddenly exclaimed, before making his way to the bathroom to fetch a warm wet cloth for you. After cleaning himself up quickly, but effectively he was back into the room with a glass of water and the cloth. You blushed before telling him you could clean yourself to which he agreed, handing you the water. “Do you need a spare of clothe?” He questioned now rummaging through his drawers. The question took you aback, blinking as you stared at him in silence for a few moment. You weren’t expecting to spend the night at his place, not that you were complaining, but it felt too good to be true, really like fate had somehow brought the two of you together. “Did I fuck you too good that you forgot how to speak lovely?” His voice brought you back to reality as he smugly grinned at you, leaning on the drawer. He looked absolutely ethereal, messy locks framing his pale face and body sculpted by the gods themselves. “Shut it-” “I’ll take that as a yes” He cooed, before throwing you a large black shirt. You grasped it mid-air, giggling, as he eyed you with a smile. That was until you spoke up, putting the shirt on, “Is it really okay for me to stay here tonight?” You couldnt help but voice your thoughts before earning a chuckled from the sorcerer himself. “Well I dont mind driving you back home if this makes you uncomfortable.” He paused, sounding serious for once, glancing at his car keys situated on the small wooden table by his bed. “But, we’re not done for the night, aren’t we?” He flashed you a wink, earning a blush from you. His cocky self seemed to back in full throttle. Seeing your reddened face he couldnt help but laugh, putting on a pair of looser grey sweatpants as he spoke “Besides as much as I loved hearing your beautiful moans of my name Id also like for us to share actual conversations-” Throwing a pillow at him, his hand came to arrest it before it hit his face. Seeing your embarrassed look, he broke into laughter, throwing himself back on the bed besides you. “Dont say such embarrassing thing” You poked his side in a teasing manner feeling satisfied with his answer. Gojo grinned letting his head rest in your laps, looking up at you with doe eyes. The night’s soft breeze twirled into the room, your hand caressing Gojo’s hair, twirling a piece between your pointer and middle finger. The neon alarm clock showed in flashy red numbers: 5:06 am. You merely chuckled under your breath, feeling as if this night had been one hell of a rollercoaster. Gojo silently stared at you, feeling relaxed as you played with his hair. “Tired?” He questioned, taking your hand before pressing a soft kiss on your palm, earning yet another blush from you. “Not really” He hummed, kind of amusing you how his cocky persona had subdued into this calmer one. Gojo’s chest rose and fell slowly, as the rhythm of his breathing relaxed, feeling comfortable in your embrace. Still holding unto your hand, he gave it a light squeeze, gaining back your attention “So, since it's already morning” He paused, throwing a glance toward the alarm clock,” Wanna order some food and talk the night away my sweet Y/N?”
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raineydays411 · 3 years
Text
Ember
Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader 
Warning: Child neglect, swearing, angst, death 
Summary: After being kidnapped by Hydra, Y/N does some reflecting on her home life. Especially her relationship with her father
italics = past pov
Bold= thoughts
Italic bold= ghosts 
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You never thought your life would end like this. Alone, trapped in a Hydra cell, full of anger and resentment for the one man who was never supposed to break your heart. Of course, up until now you had been pretty optimistic your father would realize the error of his ways and miraculously spend years making up for years of missed recitals, ignored achievements, and multiple other offenses. You always forgave him because, hey the man was a member of the Avengers, what should you expect having Tony Stark as a father? 
But right now, as you lay on the cold, damp floor, writhing in pain from whatever glowey nuclear shit those assholes injected you with, you can’t help but remember the mistreatment and neglect bestowed upon you by your father. 
It was, it was September Winds blow, dead leaves fall
You’ll always remember that September day. The day your entire life had changed 
You were only eight when Loki tried to take over New York. You and your mom were coming home from the store when all of a sudden, people around you started to panic. Looking up, you saw a large portal in a once clear blue sky. Creatures appeared out of no where, destroying anything in their way. Your mother, terrified, took you by the hand and headed for a near by building. But, it seemed that others had that idea as well. Before you knew it, your vision was overwhelmed by the bodies of citizens trying to escape the chaos outside. After a few seconds, you found yourself in a crowed parking garage and no idea where your mother was.
You never saw her again after that.
After three days of searching, the police declared her dead and you were sent to live with your godmother, Pamela Isely. 
She was good to you. She held you through nightmares, told you stories about how your mother and her met, and even taught you how to take care of plants. The only complaint you had was that she would usually leave you alone every once in a while and come back with a lot of money, and occasionally, a loud blonde woman in a clown costume would come through the window and pinch your cheeks too hard. Other than that, you got adjusted to your new life quickly.
Four months passed and your life changed again. It was a cold September day, and you had just got home from school. As you walked into the apartment, you immediately felt a tension in the air, and you saw a man at the table with your Aunty Pam, who looked extremely uneasy and pale. They stared at you until your Aunt spoke.
“Y/N...you’re going back to New York.”
Those words alone made the floor fall from underneath you. You had just settled down. You finally felt comfortable without your mother in the world and now this?? Then the man cleared his throat, causing you to snap back into reality. 
“Y/n, my name is Tony Stark”
 You knew that name, he was the man in the metal suit who helped save New York. You didn’t care at the moment though, you just wanted to know why you were leaving your aunt.
Ignoring Tony, you looked at your aunt and whispered,
 “ Did...did I do something wrong?” 
Immediately, Pams eyes filled with tears as she quickly gathered you in her arms and responded with a loud, 
“Oh no, darling of course not”, She then proceeded to tell you the uncomfortable looking man at the table was in fact your father, who up till now you had never met. In fact, you never even fathomed the idea of having a father as your mom had always told you that you were a gift from some fairies she helped. You turned to the man who quietly sat at the table and looked over the man who was said to be your father.
He was definitely a handsome man. He wore a fancy looking suit and some tinted glasses even though he was inside. His hair was dark brown and messy, as if he was tugging or running his fingers through it. His skin looked to be am olive color but it was hard to tell as he looked kind of pale in the light of the small apartment you called home. You thought it was odd he hadn’t said anything other than introducing himself. 
“ Is it true? Are you really my dad?” You asked in a quiet voice.
He finally spoke, “Yeah kid, I’m your dad”
To you, I did surrender
Two weeks, you didn’t call
It’s been two weeks since you were taken by Hydra. Two weeks since you were injected with that mystery substance. You didn’t die, at least you don’t think you did. But you didn’t exactly feel alive either. You were colder than usual, like your body temperature lowered. You slept longer than normal especially the first three days after you were injected. The guards had to wake you up just to get you to eat. But the most worrying symptom of all is that your eyes were the same shade of neon blue as the liquid that was injected into your body. And everytime your eyes turned blue, something weird would happen. 
For example, the first time you noticed your eyes were blue, you woke up from the first long sleep.The second time, you thought you heard voices, screaming in agony and despair.This was odd because you were the only one in that cell block. As you came back to reality, you realized that you could see other ghostly figures in the once empty cells, and that you were floating three feet above your bed. 
Within the two weeks you were in that cell, you learned that that day you were injected, your heart did stop for an hour until you miraculously sprung back to life with a loud gasp, scaring the absolute shit out of the Hydra guards that were tasked with disposing your body. That would go through physical changes as well. Your once brown skin would change to a pale ghostly blue. And your black kinky hair would change to a shocking neon blue to match the color of your eyes.
For two weeks, you learned the ins and outs of your newfound powers. Two weeks of being pushed to your absolute limits by power hungry scientists. Two weeks of learning the names of the dead around you in those cells. 
It took two weeks, to realize that your father truly didn’t care about you.
And looking back on it, you should’ve known
Your life, goes on without me  My life, a losing game
It had been a year since you had moved into the Avengers Tower with your father. It had taken you a while to warm up to the team and for the team to get used to having a child around. But once you all got to know each other, it was like having multiple aunts and uncles. Especially because you were around them more than your own father. 
Unfortunately, once you had settled in and gotten to know everyone, Tony had locked himself away in his lab. Tinkering on a new project for weeks on end, ignoring his responsibilities as a new father.
Now, this didn’t really affect you till you started school. Tony had forgotten to pick you up multiple times, causing you to wait for hours on end till either Steve or Pepper realized that you hadn’t come home and rushed to the school , only to see you waiting on the front steps talking the ear off of the unlucky teacher who had to stay behind to wait with you.
Of course word got around that Y/N Stark was being forgotten at school everyday, thus prompting the kids at school to taunt you everyday after school.
“Where's your daddy Y/N??”
“I bet he leaves you here so you can get kidnapped so he doesn’t have to look at you”
“Your own dad doesn’t even love you”
Once you got to middle school, you joined as many after school clubs to hide the fact that there was no one to pick you up. And a small part hoped that it would be enough to gain your fathers attention. But it didn’t happen.
“Daddy! I made the volleyball team!”
“hmm, oh that's great kid, can you pass me that wrench”
“Dad! I’m in the robotics club”
“Y/N I’m really busy right now”
“ Hey dad...can you help me with--”
“Not now, go ask Pepper”
No matter what you did, you could never get his attention long enough. Nothing you did was good enough. You never got so much as a “welcome home” or a “ have a good day at school kiddo”. And you were fine with that. You were, because you knew that even though he didn’t show it, Tony Stark really did love you.
But you should, you should not doubt me You will remember my name.
After learning the extent of your powers, which included; flying,the ability to talk and see the dead, energy blasts, floating through walls, and the ability to shut off your powers at will. You decided it was time for you to make plans to escape. 
You’d like to think that you were really good at pretending. 
You did it on a daily basis, really. You pretended to be happy, not to notice Tony’s neglect, like you didn’t see the pity glances the rest of the team gave you. So convincing your captors that they finally broke you down wasn’t really a challenge. 
“....fine..i’ll help you” You said in a tired weak voice.
The two guards were startled at first, not expecting you to speak so suddenly
“You..what?” The younger of the two asked in a suspicious tone.
“I said I want to help you” you repeated a little louder. 
The first guard looked to the second, obviously confused at your sudden change of heart. They had a silent conversation with their eyes, as if debating on whether this was a trick or not. Finally, the older of the two turned to you and said,
“This better not be a trick, Stark.”
And with that, he started to unlock the door to your cell. 
“Okay, now I can either fight them now  and make a break for it, or I can wait till i get to the--” 
Your thoughts were cut off by a loud wailing, piecing your ears and automatically giving you a headache. Wincing in pain you look around the empty cell blocks and try to locate the spirit that’s making all that noise. When you see it, your heart breaks. It’s a young boy, around your age. The first thing you notice about him is that he had white hair, kinda Danny Phantom. As you continued to stare at the boy, his head suddenly turned and you both made eye contact, the movement startling you enough to make you jerk in the hold of the guards
“ HEY, eyes forward!” shouted the older guard. “There's no way out, if that's what you're looking for’ He said in a smug tone.
“I said I wanted to join you, why would I want to escape?” You reply, irritation dripping from your words.
“Just don’t pull any tricks kid.”
God does he have any other lines, you think to yourself mentally rolling your eyes. Sounds familiar.
Oh Ember, you will remember
Oh Ember, one thing remains
“Y/N I’m busy, go as--” “I know, go ask Pepper”
“Oh kid, I’m sorry I forgot” “ yeah, I know”
“You’re on the volleyball team” “ yes dad. For four years now”
“Y/N! I’m gonna be in the lab with Peter so try not to bother us.”
“Y/N me and Peter--”
“Good job, Peter”
“Hey Peter--”
God were you tired of that name. You never ever felt the feeling of envy and anger as much as you did when Peter came into your life. 
In fact, you were still healing from almost losing your family you found in the Avengers. Your dad didn’t want you around the “traitors” as he privately called them, so you were secluded. Watching them from afar and yearning for the comfort of hearing Steves pre-war stories, helping Clint pull off the most ridiculous pranks, helping Wanda teach Vision how to cook, and most of all you missed talking to Natasha. She reminded you of your aunt Pam, mainly because they both had red hair. You hoped that your father would understand this loss and step up now that you really needed a connection, but no. He decided that Peter Parker deserved all his attention. So you stopped trying as hard.
Oh Ember, So warm and tender You will remember my name
You walk into a room with a singular table and no windows. Sat at the table was a bald man writing in a notebook. The two guards lead you to the table and make you sit opposite of the bald man. He looks up at you and smiles.
“So, Ms. Stark has finally decided to comply?” He asks in a smug tone. You roll your eyes and answer back in a sarcastic tone,
“Yeah yeah, just cut the crap and tell me what you want me to do.”
The bald man just smiles and looks at you, as if trying to read your mind to figure out your motives. 
“Well”, he says, leaning back into his chair. “Lets get down to business.” He then proceeds to talk about the process of join his team and what you will be doing. But you don’t hear a word of it. Because you were going to escape this hell hole one way or another. 
“Well then, lets get you changed.” said the bald man. “Yeager, Jennings, take our guest to to her new room. 
“Huh so they do have names.” You think, as they pull you out of the chair and into the hallway. Walking back into the cell block, you make eye contact with that white haired boy again. He’s quiet as he watches you walk back to your room, then he disappears. 
You finally get back to your cell and notice a pair of black spandex, black halter top, grey boots and some black gloves on the floor. Changing into them, you take your hair into a pineapple with a hair tie they had given you. Looking into the piece of metal you used as a mirror, you changed into your ghost form. Suddenly, you hear a male voice behind you.
“Don’t let them know you can do that.” 
You startle and turn around, only to see none other than the white haired boy. He looked equally as startled as he realized you can see and hear him. 
“Why not?” you asked, changing back to your normal self.
“Because, they won’t ever let you leave.You’re already the first one to survive the injection. If they realize you can go ghost, they’ll do everything in their power to control you.”
Your mind flashed to Bucky. How Steve told you that they kept him. Brainwashing him over and over till he just became a weapon. You were not going to let them do that to you. You looked back at the boy.
“Can you help me get out of here?” you asked hopefully. The boy looked at you and said, 
“Well I’ve got nothing else to do.” You let go a sigh of relief. You were about to say something when you heard Yeager and Jennings walking down the hallway.
“They’re coming” You whisper, “ what do I do?”
“This base is small. All the people here are the only ones who know about it. They’re all going to be in the training room you’re being taken to. Wait till you get there, phase into the floor to the basement and blow up the heater. That should cause the whole building to cave in” 
You again don’t get to respond, as the two men finally get to your cell and unlock it. You walk out of the cell, head held high and allow them to lead you to the training room. Despite the look of confidence, you were dreading the next few moments. 
“So how come I’m the only one here?” you ask, even though you know the answer. The older guard looks at you and says
“You’re the only one who survived.” You fake a look of shock and look forward as if the news made you uneasy. And it did. It made you mad that these people didn’t care that they were murdering innocent people. They couldn’t hear the cries and the wails of agony these poor trapped souls emitted. In a way, it was ironic. Back at the tower, you were the poor soul nobody could see. And now you were surrounded by them.
Your heart, your heart is rendered Your loss, now bear the shame
This was the last straw. There was only so much you an take before you broke and this was it.
 Tony didn’t intend for you to hear it, but god did it hurt all the same. One phrase shattered your whole world. 
“You know Spiderling, your kinda like the kid I always wanted to have.”
An tense silence filled the common room. The first time in months you were able to see th eteam and they had to bear witness to this. Of course they did, who else would give you that stare full of sorrow and pity. You barely even noticed though. You were too busy looking at the “heartwarming scene.”
“that's such bullshit” Oh, how you wish you had a camera if only to capture the look of pure “oh shit” painted on Steve's face.
“What..what was that kid?” Asks your father. You turn to him, a fury in your eyes that nobody has ever seen.
“THAT IS ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT.”  You scream. “ FOR EIGHT YEARS I HAVE TRIED SO HARD FOR YOU TO LOVE ME. EIGHT YEARS I JOINED CLUBS, GOT THE HIGHEST GRADED IN CLASS AND FOR WHAT?” 
Tony and Peter look at you in shock “Y/n..wha..what are you talking about?” Peter asks in a baffled voice.
“Oh eat shit Peter! You know exactly what I’m talking about! Do you not find it weird, that your new mentor spends every single second of free time he has on you and not with his daughter?? Or are you so needy for some sort of parental validation that you don’t even care??” 
Deep down you know it’s not Peters fault. Hell, you two probably could have been good friends if your dad wasn’t such a tool. 
“Hey kid, I don’t know what's gotten into you, but that was way over the line.” Said Tony in a stern voice. Your eyes harden.
“Oh, did I hurt your poor little spiders feelings?? I didn’t even know you cared about other peoples feelings Tony? Or is it just your daughters that you ignore ?”
“What are you talking about? I don’t ignore you, stop being so over dramatic.”
OVERDRAMATIC?? DO YOU REALIZE THE ONLY THING YOU KNOW ABOUT ME IS MY NAME??” You are now sobbing. “ Do you even know my favorite color? How old I am?” 
Tony looks at you, eyes wide.”Y/N...” You cut him off
“Just forget it. I understand now. I will never be important to you. Not like Peter apparently is. I just wish it didn't take me eight years to figure that out.” And with that, you run out of the room, tears running down your cheeks and ignoring the calls of your father, the team, and Peter. 
You run for a few blocks and cry in an alleyway. not the smartest idea but you were too upset to care. And as you cry, you don’t notice the dark shadow behind you before its too late and the world goes dark.
Like dead trees, in cold december  Nothing but ashes remain
The hydra base was now engulfed with flames.  Your body was tired from phasing through the walls, and your head hurts from those energy blasts. But one thing brings some happiness in your heart as you watch all the souls that were trapped there realize they are free. All but one, the white haired kid. He walks up to you. 
“So you did it.” He says with a smile. You smile back. 
“Yeah I did.  Thanks to you.”
“Blue suits you.” he says with a blush. You squint at him for a second and let out a chuckle. 
“Thanks” ,You’re both silent for a few seconds, watching the souls leave. You speak up again. 
“Why aren’t you leaving like them” You question him.
“I don’t know, I guess my time here isn’t up.” he says looking out at the horizon. You nod and look at around trying to figure out where you are. 
“So, what are you going to do next” he asks. Your body stiffens as you are filled with resentment.
“I’m going to visit my father.” You say, eyes glowing a neon blue.
You will remember my name.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: HI!so this is my first ever fanfic! i hope anyone who reads this enjoys it!! Let me know what you think and what i can improve on!💕
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ssahoodrathotchner · 3 years
Text
Pictures of You
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
Summary: you lose your memories of the last few years, including the ones of your relationship with Aaron. The rest of the team thinks it’s hilarious.
Word Count: 5.3k
Warnings: memory loss, swearing, some angst, hospital, talk of injuries, team shenanigans and fluff
A/N: okay this was a lot of fun to write bc soft!Hotch rights !! also really wanted to make the team play a larger role in a fic so here we go :)
Masterlist
---
You wake in a hospital bed, Morgan by your side, and a godawful pounding in your cloudy head. With a groan, you try to raise one of your hands to cover your eyes as Morgan’s head shoots up to stare at you with a relieved smile.
“Hey,” he says, catching your hand before you can lift it higher, “Don’t do that. You had a nasty fall, Princess.”
Satisfied that you won’t make any more moves towards your head, he sits back down at your side.
“Should I even ask how you’re doing or…” he trails off when you glare at him. “I’ll go let the team know you’re okay. Boss Man will be happy to hear you finally woke up,” and with that, Morgan is up and out of the room before you can even open your mouth because what.
Shifting around in the bed, you try to gauge just how injured you are, but the soreness in literally your entire body coupled with the haziness in your mind from the constant pain makes you conclude that you’ll leave it to the doctors to tell you what’s wrong. Sighing, you gently tilt your head to the side and observe the various beeping monitors.
The door opens and as you turn to see who it is, your mouth opens in disbelief. There’s no way. There’s absolutely no fucking way. This is fake. This is a dream. Your stomach simultaneously drops and fills with dread. How is this possible?
“You’re dead. You’re dead. We buried you,” you say in a rush, as none other than Emily fucking Prentiss stops by the side of your bed, looking at you confusedly. “Does this mean I’m dead? Are you a ghost?” you wonder out loud, and Emily looks behind her as the rest of the team, except Hotch, file in behind her, seemingly fine with her sudden appearance.
“How are you here, why are you here, what happened? You died. You’re supposed to be dead which means I’m probably dead,” you continue to ramble, frantically looking from at each member of your team and then back to Emily.
“What? Y/N, you aren’t dead. Just like I’m not dead,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“But you are,” you say shakily, chest tightening as your breaths become shorter and shorter.
“Y/N…” she says slowly, softly, “I faked my death four years ago.”
And with that, your ears rush and your mind goes blank. No no no no no no we buried her six months ago, she’s dead. You don’t notice the rest of the team trading glances around you as the world you thought you knew shatters and reforms in your mind.
“No,” you croak, throat suddenly constricting, but Emily only looks at you worriedly, Reid slipping out the door behind her.
“Y/N, can you take some deep breaths for me?” and your head turns to find JJ at your other side, hand on your shoulder. “Let’s breathe, you can do this,” she says, taking exaggerated breaths to demonstrate, smiling gently as you cooperate.
Reid enters, now, followed by a doctor who, immediately upon reaching your side, proceeds to shine a light in your eyes and asks you to complete all sorts of short tests while the team looks on.
“Now, Agent Y/L/N, Dr. Reid informed me that you seem to be having some memory issues, which is normal,” the doctor assures you, “especially with the head trauma you endured. So, tell me what you can remember and we’ll go from there,” he says with a helpful smile.
Fuck. What do you remember?
“Well…” you trail off, trying to pin-point an exact moment. “I remember Emily—Agent Prentiss’—funeral because it was six months ago, but apparently—” your eyes slide over the rest of the team, “—apparently, it was more like four years ago,” you finish slowly.
“And that’s as recent as you can remember?” the doctor pushes. You nod your head. “Well, Agent Y/L/N, it seems that you have post-traumatic retrograde amnesia, which isn’t a surprise, as I said before. My guess is that it’s temporary, and that you’ll recover your memories in time.”
“Any ideas how long?” Emily speaks up, carefully looking at your face.
“With cases such as these, there isn’t a definite timeline or standard procedure for memory recovery,” the doctor explains. “It may help to look at photos or videos and tell stories to try and help Agent Y/L/N heal quicker, but the brain is tricky,” and with that wonderful statement, the doctor turns and exits, leaving you and your team staring at each other, processing the fact that you don’t know when you’ll get your memories of the last four freakin’ years back.
“So, from the research I’ve done, it seems that—” Reid is cut off by the door flying open and Aaron Hotchner, your Unit Chief, bursting into the room with a concerned look on his face wearing a hoodie and jeans.
Morgan tries to grab his shoulder, but Hotch shakes him off as he walks right up to your bedside and grabs your hand. Holy shit. Heat rises to your cheeks instantly and you think your heart might have actually skipped a beat but, you can’t help it, you’ve had a crush on Hotch for ages and he’s holding your hand. But you don’t remember a time when Hotch was so forward in showing concern for one of his agents.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, Sweetheart—” you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming because Hotch has never called you Sweetheart. Ever. You’ve also never seen him in anything other than a suit. “—Jessica called because Jack has the flu and then he wanted to talk to me and—”
“Hotch!” Morgan all but yells, interrupting Hotch’s update on Jack, as you stare pointedly at his hand, still holding yours, trying to control the redness growing steadily stronger in your cheeks. What the hell.
“Hotch,” Morgan states, softer this time, “The last thing Y/L/N remembers clearly is Prentiss’ funeral.”
You look up with a weak approximation of a smile, and watch Hotch’s face shift as he comprehends what Morgan said.
“That was years ago,” he says slowly, face hardening into a look you’ve seen too many times when he tries to separate himself from the information he’s received.
Looking down at you, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, so you divert your eyes to his hand in yours. Once he notices this, he gently lets go and you know it’s silly, but you almost reach out for it again. Who knows the next time Hotch will want to hold your hand?
“So you don’t…” he doesn’t finish his question, which leaves you even more confused. Don’t what…?
“Umm. If it’s happened in the last four-ish years, then umm… Then I probably don’t remember it,” you say quietly, apologetically. “Sir,” you add on quickly, not wanting to forgo formalities even if your memory isn’t what it’s supposed to be.
However, instead of nodding, like you thought he would, Aaron Hotchner looks sad which confuses you even more.
“Aaron,” Rossi begins slowly, “the doctor said that talking about what’s happened since then may help Y/N’s memory come back.” Hotch looks up, almost relieved. “So why don’t you tell her something that’s happened since Prentiss’ funeral.”
And with that, Hotch takes a breath before reaching across your body to your other hand and holding it up. Not quite sure what’s happening, you allow him to hold your left hand up in your line of vision and that’s when you notice a fucking wedding ring. On your hand. Which Hotch is holding.
“I’m married?” you screech, looking at the team, who are now all trying not to laugh for some reason. “Who am I married to? Holy shit, what?” you continue looking around. Morgan and Prentiss look like they’ll break into outright laughter any minute. What’s going on?
Looking helplessly to Hotch, who is suspiciously quiet, you don’t have to repeat your question before he is carefully letting go of your left hand to hold his own up next to it and since when did Hotch wear a wedding band? Until you notice the striking similarities between the ring on your hand, and the one on your boss. What the actual fuck.
“We’re married?” you say, whipping your head to the side—ouch—to stare at Hotch, who is looking a little more amused than worried. “What? When? I just…” you can’t even finish your train of thought because your head is spinning so fast.
“Is it really that much of a surprise, Princess?” Derek chimes in. “I mean, you guys have been in love with each other forever,” and with that, he and Prentiss dissolve into a fit of laughter, which they try to smother, but you’re too busy taking in this very new and very interesting life development.
At some point in the last couple years, you married Hotch. Which means he knows you like him. And he likes you. You dated Hotch and now you’re fucking married. And you can’t remember any of it.
“…I don’t remember it…” you say sadly, softly and the laughter ceases.
Running a hand through his hair, Hotch takes a step back and shrugs, a small, reassuring smile on his face.
“We’ll figure it out, Sweetheart—” your stomach erupts into butterflies, “—we always do.”
With a sigh, you sink back into the pillows on your bed and stare at the ceiling, head throbbing worse than before thanks to all the new information.
“I just…” you pause to think about your current dilemma. “I just don’t know where to start with all this…Getting my memory back,” you look to Hotch and then the team, unsure of what to do.
“Well, the doctor did say that photos and videos might help. I’d be willing to recount every conversation we’ve had since Emily’s funeral, if you want, including the ones that you weren’t a part of, but were about you or a case,” Reid offers with a grin, and your heart melts.
Slowly shaking your head, you answer, “Thanks but maybe later, Spence. I’m still stuck on the whole I’m-married-to-my-boss thing right now.”
“Trust me Princess,” Derek laughs “I’m pretty sure all of us could tell you about how everything went down like a damn movie.”
“Yeah…” JJ continues with a fond shake of her head, “You guys weren’t very subtle about it.”
Sneaking a look out of the corner of your eye, you catch Hotch blushing and staring down at his shoes before he also sneaks a look at you, meeting your eyes.
“See?” Derek’s voice breaks your gaze. “This is exactly what I was talking about. You guys weren’t subtle and still aren’t,” rolling his eyes, he laughs a little and you can’t help but smile.
“At least they’re married this time around,” Rossi supplies. “No more ‘secret’ glances and yearning,” he says with such contempt you can’t help but laugh as Hotch—Aaron? — lets out a small chuckle of his own.
“Now I just need to remember how we got here,” you say, feeling a little more at ease. Slowly, you reach for Hotch’s left hand, studying the ring the matches your own. “Remember us,” you continue, just to him, and the smile that overtakes his face is the best thing you’ve seen since waking up.
“You weren’t wrong, Morgan,” comes Emily’s voice from the end of your bed. “This is just like a movie. Ugh. But don’t worry, Y/N, we’ll help you sort this out.”
“And I know just the woman for the job,” Morgan adds with a mischievous smirk which immediately makes you wonder about whatever it is he has planned.
“Now as much as I’d love to watch the two lovebirds gaze into each other’s eyes, I actually have plans,” Rossi states, looking down at his watch. “So, I’ll be back tomorrow. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says before waving to the rest of the team and leaving.
The rest of the team makes their own excuses to leave, and you can’t help but feel like Morgan and Prentiss have concocted some sort of scheme to “help” you get your memories back.
Running a hand over your face, you sigh. What now? The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up and realize that Hotch hadn’t left with the others, but was instead standing near the foot of your bed, looking somewhat anxious.
“I ummm… I was planning on spending the night here to make sure you were okay, but umm…” he trails off, unsure.
“But since I have no memory of us being together you think it’s weird…?” you ask gently.
“Yeah,” he answers in a sigh. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being here, especially because I know how frustrating and confusing this must be for you…”
“Hotch,” you start, but he can’t hide his wince when you call him that. “Aaron,” you try again. “Yes, this is incredibly confusing and frustrating because Emily should be dead and I didn’t think you had feelings for me at all,” you pause and see him smile, just a bit, “But I’d really like it if you stayed here. With me. Because—” you take a deep breath. “—Because you make me feel safe, Aaron, and I need that right now,” you say gently, not quite sure where the confidence came from, but Aaron’s eyes soften and his smile grows bigger as his shoulders drop in relief. Worth it.
“Then I’ll stay,” he says, and you can’t help the heat that once again rises in your cheeks as he continues to look at you.
You guys are married, dammit. Pull it together.
Averting your gaze, you turn your attention to getting more comfortable in your bed and decide to fuss with the placement of your pillows because damn was your back starting to hurt, but Aaron beats you to it. Within ten seconds of arranging the pillows behind you, he has them perfect.
“How…?” you start to question, but he just raises his eyebrows. “Right. Married,” you say with a shake of your head.
Aaron finally sits in the chair next to your bed and reaches, almost absentmindedly, for your hand before catching himself and stilling. You can see the fight in his mind—he wants to comfort you and himself, but with your memory, he doesn’t quite know where your boundaries are. Taking pity on him, you grab his hand yourself, weaving your fingers together so he knows it was on purpose. Okay so you really just wanted to hold his hand again, but you’re married! You’re allowed. He takes a deep breath and leans back in the chair, turning his head to really look at you.
“How’s your head?” he asks, brow furrowed in what you’ve come to understand is genuine concern.
You pause and consider for a moment.
“Not terrible, but not great,” you say slowly. “It’s like there’s a fog in my mind that I can’t see through. I know I’m missing stuff, but I just don’t know what.”
Aaron gently squeezes your hand, but doesn’t speak yet.
“I want to know what brought Emily back, how we happened, what it was that gave me this fucking injury, I just…” with an exasperated huff, you collect yourself. “I just want to know.”
“Well, Emily should be the one to tell you her part of the story, and as for us,” he gives you a smile “it’s a longer answer, at least for me, so that will have to wait—Sorry, Sweetheart,” he says when you pout. “However, I can tell you about what landed you in the hospital. How does that sound?”
“It’s a start,” you tease, and yes Aaron smiles wider and rolls his eyes.
“We were chasing an unsub, and Garcia had tracked him to a warehouse not too far from Quantico. We went there and—” his voice wavers. You squeeze his hand. “—and the unsub had set explosives around the perimeter of the building. I guess you got too close to him when trying to talk him down and he triggered the whole set.” Aaron sighs, and his eyes are glazed over like he’s reliving this—which he probably is—and there’s nothing you can really do besides let him take his time.
“You weren’t right by any of them, but you were thrown back and had hit the ground before I could even yell at you to stop—not that you would have listened,” he says pointedly with a watery laugh. “You just laid there, Morgan and I carried you over to the medics as soon as the dust settled and they took you away as we cleared the rest of the scene.”
“And the unsub?”
“He didn’t survive the explosion. As soon as we figured that out, we left it to the local PD and crime scene techs.” He looks at you softly. “We came straight here after that.”
“How long was I out before today,” you ask lightly, curiously.
“Three days. Dave had to convince me to go home and shower on the second day.” He looks down before sneaking a sideways glance at you.
“Well I’m glad he did,” you tease, scrunching your nose.
“And I’m glad you’re awake, Sweetheart,” he replies, squeezing your hand.
You laugh and look away before mumbling, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”
“Get used to what?” he waits a second. “Sweetheart?” Motherfucker. He knows what he’s doing.
“That! I woke up convinced you didn’t have feelings for me at all,” you say with a glare, “and now I know we’re married and you keep being so nice and understanding and calling me Sweetheart and I just don’t know how to deal with all of this!” you finish in a huff.
“I just feel bad that I can’t remember this, us” you add, gesturing between the two of you. “I’m trying and there’s just—” you make a frustrated noise and flop back to stare at the ceiling. “And my head still kind of hurts,” you add softly, almost pouting.
“Oh, Sweetheart,” Aaron whispers. He clears his throat before continuing. “You’ll get your memories back,” he leans forward to stroke some hair off your forehead. “And until then, you know the team and I will do what we can to catch you up and help you remember.”
You push your head further into his hand with a sigh. He runs his hand through your hair a few times before pulling back and you almost whine. You yawn instead. Settling down, you tug the blanket up higher across your chest and turn to face Aaron as he also gets comfortable. He turns on the small television in your room and at some point, you fall asleep holding his hand.
---
You wake to the sound of the door opening, followed by the unmistakable click-clack of heels worn by none other than Penelope Garcia.  
“Rise and shine! Time to regain your memory, lovely Y/N,” she sings, coming to a stop by the side of your bed as you roll over with a yawn.
“Pen—” you groan. “Let me sleep. Please.”
“Oh no, my little profiler. Do you have your memory back?” You shake your head. “Then we need to work on that! And don’t you dare tell me no; my wonderful Derek Morgan and I were up all night making this for you,”
You raise your eyebrows.
“Sadly, not like that. But, we compiled a presentation-slash-video montage for you about what you’ve missed!”
That catches your attention.
“Wha--? How? Penelope where did the footage come from?” you ask, more awake now.
“Well, I may or may not have used security cam footage for a lot of it, but that’s neither here nor there, so, without further ado, I present to you: your life for the past four-ish years!” and with that, she somehow connects her tablet to the TV and you see a picture of the whole team; Penelope then produces a remote from the depths of her purse and then proceeds to the next slide.
Which is a photo of you. And Aaron. Standing by the coffee machine in the office and smiling at each other, clearly unaware that the moment was being documented. The image is embellished with what must be close to fifty moving, sparkly hearts, obviously done by Garcia.
“First thing’s first,” she starts with a flourish. “Your husband!” and as if on cue, Aaron walks into the room, cup of coffee in hand. Much to your surprise, Aaron just rounds your bed to sit in the same chair you assume he fell asleep in, watching the screen.
“What is happening,” you say softly to yourself, looking from Aaron to Garcia and back.
“The doctor said photos and videos might help restore your memory, so who better to put something together than Garcia?” Hotch answers dryly, a small smile flashing across his face. “The rest of the team should be here shortly,” he says directly to Garcia.
“Oh good. I always work better with an audience,” she replies as you continue to process just what the hell is happening since you woke up approximately five minutes ago.
Within a few minutes, your hospital room is overrun with the rest of the team. Sitting, standing, leaning wherever they can find the space to view Penelope’s presentation with you in the middle of it all.
“Don’t you people have jobs?” you grumble.
“C’mon, Princess. Who better to help you remember the last few years than us?” Derek says with a cheeky grin that makes you roll your eyes.
You turn your gaze to Aaron and find that he’s already looking at you in concern.
“If you really don’t want all of us here we can leave,” he says just loud enough for you to hear.
“I just…” you take a moment to try and collect your thoughts. “I guess I just don’t know how to feel about all of this, but you’re all here so— “
“So here we go!” Penelope cheerfully finishes your sentence before turning back to the screen. “As I was saying before, part one of Operation Get Y/N’s Memories Back is all about—drumroll please—our very own Unit Chief, a.k.a. Hotch, a.k.a. loving husband to our very own Agent Y/L/N.”
With a shake of your head, purposefully ignoring the way Derek and Emily are whooping and whistling, you settle in and gesture for Penelope to continue. God, let’s hope this works.
---
It doesn’t work.
Fuck.
Three almost four hours later and nothing has changed for you. However, it’s a lovely opportunity for some team bonding and creating new memories, but you’re still disappointed. It’s not for lack of trying, though. Penelope did a wonderful job of pulling together a presentation-slash-video montage of your life, complete with titles such as ‘Your lovely husband,’ ‘The Miraculous Life, Death, and Subsequent Resurrection of Emily Prentiss,’ and even ‘Badass BAU Babies,’ which was a collection of team photos and news clips of cases you guys had closed in the past few years.
The whole team had gotten a kick out of each section, especially the last one, as Penelope had spared no one in her quest to help your memory; ugly selfies sent in the BAU group chat, embarrassing footage of you tripping up (and down) the stairs to the bullpen—courtesy of the security cameras, Reid doing physics magic and narrowly missing Rossi’s coffee cup, it was all there. But nothing worked, there was no magical ah ha moment where everything came rushing back. If anything, it really was like watching a movie; it didn’t feel like you were the one is all of these clips and photos. Not even Reid’s commentary made you feel any closer than before to recovering your memories.
It wasn’t all bad, though. Penelope had a veritable stockpile of photos of you and Aaron, ranging from the office, to cases, to the occasional night out with the team. Your engagement announcement, wedding photos, freakin’ everything on the two of you and yet, nothing seemed to make a difference to your brain.
The photo on the screen was one of you and Aaron on a case. You were tucked under his arm, snowflakes visible in your hair and his as you look up and laugh at something he said while he just smiles gently down at you. Penelope had put hearts over both your eyes.
“Actual heart eyes! I had to! You guys are so cute!” she basically squealed when the photo came up.
“What did I tell you,” Rossi said teasingly, “Yearning.”
Prentiss and Morgan hadn’t stopped laughing for this entire segment, with JJ and Reid occasionally joining in if there was something exceptionally ridiculous Penelope had included, like fucking heart eyes.
A hand covering your own makes you realize you had spaced out, and you look down to see that it’s Aaron’s hand, wedding band catching the light.
“Anything, Sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice, carefully watching your face.
You shake your head. “It’s like it’s someone else’s life, but I know it’s mine; you’ve told me it’s mine, there’s photographic evidence that it’s mine!” you say in a huff. “It just doesn’t feel like it’s mine,” you whisper, voice breaking at the end. Tears gather in your eyes and you bite your lip to stop it from shaking as you desperately try and control your overwhelming emotions. You can hear the team in the background, strategizing new ways to help you, but Aaron’s face hovers in front of your own, drawing your attention.
“It’s okay,” he says lightly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“No, it’s not,” you insist as a few tears make their way down your face. “It’s not, Aaron. What if this is it? What if I just don’t get my memories back?”
Letting out a long sigh, Aaron raises your hand to his lips and kisses your palm before folding your hand into his.
“You will. I know you will,” he says with such conviction you might just believe him if it weren’t for the way he rapidly blinks to keep his own tears at bay.
“Yeah, Princess.” Morgan chimes in from somewhere across the room. “We’ll figure this out, you know we will.”
And with that, you see something click into place in Aaron’s eyes and suddenly, he’s looking at you in such a way that your heart picks up—thanks, heart monitor.
“Aaron…?” you ask cautiously.
“Princess,” he says it so simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You only have time to raise an eyebrow at him before—
Oh.
Kissing Aaron Hotchner is something you could definitely get used to. His hand comes up to cradle your face as he gently moves his lips against yours. You sigh and can feel his smile against your mouth before he’s tugging your face closer, tilting your head just so and—
There.
It’s like opening a window to let in a breeze. Soft and sure, filling the space in a way that’s all-encompassing without being suffocating.
Like snowflakes falling and settling on his black jacket, like Aaron down on one knee sliding your engagement ring on your finger while you smile so much it feels like your face will break. It’s leaving cups of coffee on his desk during late nights in the office. It’s playing soccer with Jack as Aaron smiles and cheers both of you on. It’s being in bed late at night, falling asleep in the comfort provided by the man you love. Your wedding vows, promising to love him forever.
And you know.
With a gasp, you pull Aaron closer, kiss him deeper, harder, moving your lips more frantically against his. I remember I remember I remember and you think he gets it because he pulls back and looks at you with so much hope it almost breaks your heart.
“When I said I’d love you forever, Aaron Hotchner, I meant it.”
And his face breaks into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen as he laughs in disbelief before capturing your lips with his again, returning the urgency you had kissed him with just moments ago.
Someone clears their throat and you pull apart, smiles obvious on both your faces as you turn to the team who are looking somewhat confused.
“Would you mind enlightening us as to why you two are suddenly acting like teenagers?” Rossi asks, eyebrows raised.
“Well,” Aaron starts, grinning in your direction, “It would seem that— “
“Nuh uh. No way,” Derek interrupts him. “Are you seriously about to say that you kissed her and she magically remembered?”
You can’t help but laugh at his disbelief because what the hell and nod, unable to speak through the giddiness overtaking your body. You remember.
“Ohmygod! You guys!!” Penelope squeals before launching herself into your arms for a hug which she promptly pulls Aaron into as well; he doesn’t protest.
“What made you do that, Hotch?” Reid asks curiously once Penelope has let you and Aaron go. “Did you know it would work?”
“Princess,” Aaron says with a nod towards Morgan. “In Jack’s storybooks, a kiss always wakes the Princess so she and her prince can live happily ever after.”
Okay that’s adorable and you can’t help but aww with the rest of the team at Aaron’s confession.
“Happily ever after, huh?” you say, tugging on his hand. “Who knew you were such a sap, Hotchner?”
Rolling his eyes, Aaron just smiles. “Wasn’t it obvious from Garcia’s presentation? I’ve been in love with you forever, Sweetheart. And besides, it worked, didn’t it?” he says with a smug smile. 
You pull him down for a short kiss before moving back just enough to murmur “My Prince Charming.”
“I can’t believe you guys,” you turn to see Morgan shaking his head. “A literal fuckin’ fairytale,” and then he’s laughing and the whole team, you and Aaron included, are laughing with him because yeah this is pretty surreal.
“I can’t believe you thought I was a ghost!” Emily says once the laughter has died down, her arms crossed in mock-anger.
“Can you blame me?” you retort. “The last thing I remember was burying you and suddenly you’re here? Nope. No way. Ghost. Only explanation.”
“I have to say, Y/L/N, I’m glad you’re back, if only to stop Aaron’s sad puppy-dog eyes every time you called him ‘Hotch,’” Rossi shakes his head. “I don’t know how much more yearning I could take.”
“Hey! Be nice,” JJ admonishes, swatting Rossi’s shoulder. “I think it’s sweet.”
“Yeah guys,” you echo. “Be nice! Don’t think I forgot you two,” you say, leveling Morgan and Prentiss with glares, “and all your laughter when I couldn’t remember that my husband and I were married!”
“Oh c’mon, Princess,” Morgan groans. “It was pretty funny. You were trying so hard not to look completely in love with your husband.”
“In my defense,” you start, “I didn’t know that you guys already knew how much I love Aaron, so excuse me for trying to hide my love,” you say with a sniff.
“Well, it was pretty obvious. Whenever you looked at him or he grabbed your hand, the heart monitor would register an increase in your heart rate by—” Reid starts to ramble but your laughter cuts him off.
“I get it, I get it,” you continue through your laughter. “I’m very in love with Aaron, even when I think it’s a secret, but as Penelope’s presentation so eloquently demonstrated, I’m not subtle and neither is he.”
Aaron leans over to kiss your cheek as the rest of the team continues into a conversation about Penelope’s presentation and how the hell she collected all those photos and videos in one day.
With the attention no longer on you—for now—you smile at Aaron, who smiles right back. He slumps back in his chair with a sigh, and you can’t help but pull him back closer to you.
“I love you,” you say kissing the back of his hand.
“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he replies softly.
Yeah, this is happily ever after.
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