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#anyway I love the comfortable physicality of this scene
asapeveryday · 3 days
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Breath Me In
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Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader
Warnings: Smut (Fingering), weed, alcohol
Summary: Uconn’s end of summer party brings you all sorts of highs.
A/n: can you tell I like party settings??? Anyways. We need more fics of Paige receiving instead of always giving pls!! Someone please this girl!
Summer is coming to a close. Long August days turn to colder September nights, and the students of Uconn have mostly moved in for the new semester. A new year of college calls for a party.
Uconns annual end-of-summer party was an absolute staple to attend for seniors, richer students who lived in housing nearby often responsible for hosting. Summery rap and pop blasting, coolers and twisted tea by the gallons, string lights in big green backyards, patio furniture overrun by couples making out or slowly sobering up. It was a sight to behold, and you relished in the feeling of this, the beginning of the end of school.
When you make your way throughout the house, various people stop to talk to you, including the hostess herself.
Stella DeSantos is a trust fund girl who’s in her senior year for sports marketing, and this years lucky party organizer. She has the means, obviously, because the house is massive.
“So… gonna start the year off with some dick or what?” She laughs, already tipsy.
You just smile and shake your head. “I’m chill right now.” Is your reply. Honestly you just didn’t want to pull the ‘id rather have pussy’ card on her.
The girl swings an arm around you. “I could set you up with some really athletic guys if that’s your thing.” She hiccups. “Want a drink?”
She thrusts a mango white claw into your hand and you take it reluctantly. As much as you loved getting wasted the party was a bit too rowdy to feel comfortable. You were desperately searching for someone you knew well enough to hang out with that wasn’t already drunk, with no luck.
You stick by Stella for a while, standing by as she greets people and gets drunker by the minute. You’re still holding the same White-claw, though it’s mostly empty.
You’re scoping out the scene yourself, the house is filled with kids you’ve been in school with for the past years. Your gaze stops in the kitchen, where two girls reside. One tall with dark skin, hair slicked back and clothes baggy. You’d had classes with Aubrey Griffin before, she was intimidating but attractive.
The other girl was paler and slightly shorter, blonde hair tied back into a bun and glasses on her face.
“Paige!” Stella calls out, as if sensing your thoughts. She makes her way over to the two girls and you awkwardly follow behind. Everyone knows Paige Bueckers. She’s one of those students, everyone mostly likes her and she’s friends with all the right people. It puzzled you how someone so gay still attracted so many guys.
Stella talks to Aubrey and Paige, and they politely engage despite obviously being thrown off by how drunk she is. Their shared looks almost make you laugh. You take this as a chance to get a good look at Paige. She mostly stayed out of trouble or tough rumours, and kept to her main group of friends, so aside from her talent on the court you knew almost nothing.
You let yourself stare at her, noting her blue eyes, long lashes and wide smile. She carried herself confidently, but looked uncomfortable.
Finally she turns to meet your eye, and when her tongue flashes out to wet her lips you physically feel something in your stomach drop.
“You her babysitter or something?” She smirks.
“You’d think she knows how much she can handle by now.” You scoff. Stella barely notices, fully talking to Aubrey.
Paige’s eyes dart to the drink in your hand. “Good luck finding a ride home tonight.”
Before you can respond, maybe by telling her your name or sparking better conversation, Stella’s attention is drawn somewhere else and she starts to drag you away.
You turn to get one last look at Paige, and internally celebrate when your eyes meet.
-
As the summer sun finally began to set, it got a little too cold for everyone to be outside. The inside of the house was absolutely packed, the music was louder and the air was thicker. The smell of smoke and sound of people was starting to irritate you, but for whatever reason you didn’t want to leave just yet.
Stella was nowhere to be found and you were sitting on the kitchen counter next to some other girls, quietly sipping some drink while listening in to conversations. The original plan of staying mostly sober was ruined by your boredom, and though you weren’t drunk you felt significantly warmer and a little more confident.
“Oh, it’s you again.” A voice says. You turn to see it’s Paige and your heart skips a beat.
“I have a name.” You reply, not caring if you come off rude. She doesn’t seem to care either, just raising her eyebrows at you. “And it is?”
You tell her your name and she repeats it to herself with a smile. “I’m Paige.”
“I figured.” You laugh. The alcohol was making everything seem like less of a deal, had you talked to her more before you probably wouldn’t have been so casual.
“You drunk?” She asks, leaning against the counter across from you. At this angle you’re pretty much looking down at her, she looks cuter with her eyes wide and head tilted slightly upwards. You almost let your imagination get ahead of you.
“Getting there. You?”
Paige shakes her head no. “You don’t seem like much of a drinker.”
With a shrug, you say “This party is less fun than I thought it would be.”
“I’m gonna head outside if you’re tryna come.” She shrugs back.
You hop off of the counter and are reminded of the fact that Paige isn’t short. She seems happy that she’s not looking up at you anymore.
“Sure, why not.” You smile.
She leads you to the backyard and the sudden quiet is surprising. The music is muffled and the air is fresher, it’s a beautiful night and the yard is empty for the two of you. Paige heads straight for the pool, sitting down by the edge of the deep end and taking off her shoes, letting her legs dangle in the water. You join her and do the same.
“So you came to a party and you’re not drinking or getting high?” You ask her.
“Ah ah,” she smirks. “I’m getting high for sure, jus had to be a little sneaky. You can keep a secret, right?” Paige tilts her head at you, and you almost melt right there and then.
“I’m great at keeping secrets.” You eye her, tilting your head like she does. “But can all those people?” You gesture to the kids inside the house.
“Everyone in there is gonna be too drunk to remember me sneaking out for a blunt with a girl.” She finally breaks eye contact, reaching into her pocket for a tin of pre-rolled blunts.
She said ‘with a girl’ like her being with you could be a topic of conversation. The thought makes your mind race.
When Paige lights up and gets the first hit, her whole composure loosens.
The blue from the pool water reflecting onto her face, the slight glow of the blunt against her lips, the way she blows the smoke afterwards. It’s driving you insane.
You stare at your legs in the water, her pale ones next to yours. The night is beautiful. She’s beautiful. You wonder if she’ll remember anything tomorrow.
“Want sum?” Paige interrupts your thoughts, holding out the blunt. You know you shouldn’t mix weed with alcohol, but your heart is buzzing and her lips had already been on it, so you can’t say no.
Taking it from her nimble fingers (which you cursed yourself for even noticing) you inhale, letting the smoke fill you up before letting out a long breath, trying to ignore her sharp eyes on you.
“I’m surprised I haven’t noticed you around before.” She says, taking back the blunt. You let the statement linger in the air. For every hit you take, she takes three. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are already slightly pink.
“Are you not the noticing type?” You ask.
Paige’s eyes meet yours. “Are you?”
You laugh and take the blunt from her, holding the smoke in before tilting your head back and blowing it into the night sky.
“I notice a lot of things.” you say, glancing at her lips before meeting her eyes again.
“Oh yeah?” She says quietly, analyzing your features. If it weren’t for the drinks and the weed, you would’ve felt like prey under her watch.
“Yeah.” You match her tone.
She’s closer than you remember her being. The air smells like weed and chlorine, but she smells like summer.
Nobody says anything, you just keep passing the blunt.
“What was your first time getting high like?” You ask her.
“Freshman year, me and some other girls on my team decided we were gonna do it together.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “Don’t know why we started with edibles, but we were still high the next morning.”
“Oh shit.” You laugh.
“Yeah,” she huffs “and we had practice that afternoon, must’ve gone through like 3 bottles of eye drops each. What about you?”
“Senior year of high school.” You cringe and she smiles at your expression. “My girlfriend- at the time, was kind of addicted. Didn’t seem like a big deal then, but she begged me to smoke and I did. It was whatever.”
“Girlfriend?” She asks.
“You’re surprised?” You chuckle. “Shit, you really don’t notice anything.”
“Shut up.” She flicks your shoulder. “Any girlfriend now?”
“Fuck no.”
“I feel that.” She blows smoke into the crisp air. There’s a moment of comfortable silence, you looking into the water and her looking at you, before she finally says “Can I try something?”
“Like what?” You ask.
You can tell her thinking is slightly hazy, she’s moving slower and her eyes are tired, it’s attractive.
“Lemme jus show you…don’t freak.”
Paige takes a hit, then leans into you. In an instance her lips are on yours, prying you open and exhaling smoke into your mouth, then she pulls away. You resist the urge to choke, but manage to exhale smoothly. Your lips tingle where she made contact with you, and you feel your face get red at her expression. Paige is practically entranced.
“Little warning would’ve been better next time.” You cough.
“We can try again if you want.” She smirks, and you roll your eyes.
Once again Paige takes a hit then leans into you, this time placing her hand on your face. She huffs the smoke inside your mouth and you gladly take it, now knowing what to expect. When she pulls away you don’t turn your head, you just blow out the smoke, letting it cloud both your vision and hers. When it clears she’s staring dead at your lips.
Her lips meet yours again, this time without any weed. She’s taking her time with you, tongue exploring your mouth attentively, one hand still on your face while the other finds your thigh.
Her hands are calloused and controlled against your skin, her glasses bump your face as you kiss her. Her lips are soft.
You let your hands wander too, dancing under her black t-shirt and gripping her waist. You can feel her abs, toned from her athletic lifestyle. You can only imagine the things you could do with her abs alone.
Her hand leaves your thigh and meets yours under her shirt, gripping your wrist she guides you to her sports bra, letting you get under it and feel her breasts.
She sighs into your mouth when you lightly pinch her nipples, her usually confident voice now almost needy.
Paige’s kisses trail down to your neck, licking and biting into your soft skin. You let your fingers ghost against her until they reach the waistband of her sweatshorts.
“Can I?” You whisper, eager to feel her.
“Fuck, yes.” She murmurs against you, sucking beautifully painted hickeys from your neck to your collarbone.
When your fingers rub her through her boxers you can hear her breathing change, and it’s doing things to you. Rubbing slow circles on her clit, you feel yourself getting wet.
“You let every girl down your pants, Paige?” You mumble. She stares up at you, eyes wide and bloodshot.
You relish in the way she bites her lip when your pace quickens, you can feel her slick through the boxer briefs and you can’t help but tease her. “So wet already…”
Finally you let your hand slip into her briefs, finding her entrance and teasing around her hole. Her hips jerk upwards, giving you room to move, offering herself to you. “Stop talking.” She grumbles, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
You connect with her lips again as your fingers finally dip inside of her, causing her to let a soft moan out. You realize suddenly that anyone inside the house could come outside and see you two, but with all the weed and alcohol you couldn’t care less, you couldn’t stop now, not when Paige was grinding against your fingers and letting out sweet whimpers into your mouth, her hands feeling you all over.
Breaking the kiss is the best decision you make, because you can actually see her. Her face is perfect, hair falling out of her bun, glasses sliding down her nose, her expression a sexy, needy pout, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.
You pick up the pace, pumping your fingers in and out of her and grinning as her whimpers get a little louder. The noise of her slick, her voice, the crickets outside and the muffled music is almost magical to you. Her blue eyes shining and glossy from the weed and the reflection of the water.
“Fuck.” She murmurs, covering her mouth. “Oh, fuck.”
Her hips are violently bucking now as you curl your fingers inside of her and use your thumb to apply pressure to her clit. Her eyes are screwed shut now, and you can tell she’s close.
“Gonna cum for me Paige? Cmon baby, let it out.”
She calls out your name, legs open and pussy throbbing against your fingers. Finally she loosens around you, reaching her orgasm.
She’s still clinging to your body and catching her breath when you pull your hand out from her shorts, licking your fingers like you’ve just finished a meal. Paige’s eyes are trained on your lips wrapped around the same digits that were just inside of her.
You just smile at her staring. “You good?” You ask her. She just chuckles and takes off her shirt. “I’m good. Might needa cool down though.” Paige eyes you as she slips into the pool.
You laugh and take your shirt off too, slipping into the cold water with her.
It’s a good night, filling your lungs with her, breathing Paige in.
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fairyroses · 10 months
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— SMALLVILLE, “Wither” (6.03)
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derpycatsu · 7 months
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they love each other sooo much ok. do u understand
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sttoru · 25 days
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sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.
wc. 2.2k-ish
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that
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“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”
and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.
you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.
your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.
it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.
though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.
“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.
she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.
you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.
“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.
the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.
“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”
it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.
the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.
the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.
you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”
audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.
“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.
your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.
you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.
“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”
you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.
you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.
by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.
“enough.”
the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.
the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.
“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.
sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.
“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”
he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.
you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.
you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.
sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.
he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”
sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.
the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.
“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.
he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.
it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.
sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.
“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”
you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”
sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.
your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.
“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”
you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”
it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.
if only you could stand up for yourself.
“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.
he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”
you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.
almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.
“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.
“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.
sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.
he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.
sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”
he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.
his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.
he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;
“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”
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sordidmusings · 6 months
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Cuddle Drabbles - Straw Hats and the Three Unwise Men
A/N: Companion piece to my cuddle headcanons for these characters! While I was writing the headcanons, images of these scenes popped in my head so I decided to actually write them out for y'all
Includes! Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Luffy, Usopp, Mihawk, Buggy, and Shanks
Word Count: ~4.8k total, 500+ each
Warnings: gn!reader, brief suggestive allusions, opla lean but anime also in mind, sickeningly sweet, each of them is painfully soft for you and very in love, thought too long and hard on the pet names 🤡
I hope these make you smile ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚
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Zoro
Nami and Usopp giggled at you, making obnoxious kissy faces, while you rolled your eyes and continued petting Zoro’s hair. You couldn’t keep the smile off of your face though. The thought of how quickly they would rush to hide their mocking gestures if the swordsman on your lap simply rolled over added another level of amusement for you. The weight of Zoro’s head was comfortable on your thigh and the way he’d nestled his forehead and nose into your stomach had your heart fluttering. Your other hand was rubbing into his delt and bicep and he’d long since become puddy for you. You looked down on him lovingly and moved the hand in his hair down to scratch at the base of his skull. He let out a happy groan that you’re sure he wouldn’t want the others to keep for more teasing ammunition.
“C’mon hun, let’s get to bed,” you prompted softly. The sun had finished setting anyway. Not that he’d watched it for a second, too busy soaking up your attention. Zoro turns his head slightly to squint up at you. You’d never get tired of the bleary look he gives you when you rouse him from his rest. How such a handsome face could remind you so much of an over-tired toddler you’ll never know.
After staring for a few long seconds to make sure you were really going to make him move, Zoro got himself up with a sigh. He was nice enough to turn to you and give you his hands to help you stand even though both of you knew you didn’t need it. He just needed the excuse to keep touching you. All the way to the room, you held his hand in his favorite way; a palm at his wrist and fingers curling down to rest their tips in the creases of his own palm. It was born from the shy beginnings of touching each other, where everything was bursting with the adrenaline of “will they let me?” and relief at the physically spoken “yes” in return. He found that it let him reminisce at those moments while appreciating the familiarity you two have now.
The process of preparing for bed was swift. The way you both danced around each other looked rehearsed - a guiding hand here, brushing fingers there, mindless kisses everywhere in between. Zoro got into the hammock first, making sure to leave you room at his side. He had long since switched out his old hammock for a four-pointed one to give you both plenty of space. You always end up pressed together anyway.
It was an uncommon occasion when he was the one clinging to you in your bed, but you didn’t mind. You knew he needed the contact in the way he would fidget and stare at you until he decided that you’d given him enough of yourself to sate him that night. This night, that meant that you were snuggled into his side with your head on his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat and steady breathing. You’d caged one of his legs with yours, one stretched long beside it and the other resting over his thigh. He was comfortably spread out on his back, the arm behind you mostly lying limp, but from time to time it would come alive to hug you closer or rub along your back. Both of you inhaled long and full and sunk in deeply to the bedding and each other as you exhaled the day out.
Zoro placed one final kiss to your hairline with a lovingly mumbled “Night, pest.” 
Ah, you love this man and his allergy to conventional sentimentality.
“Goodnight, my sweet love.” 
Of course, there’s an exception for when it’s coming from you.
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Sanji
Sanji pretended not to notice how you’d get in his way in the kitchen just so that he would come up behind you in a hug and teeter-totter you back out from behind the counter. The gleeful laughter it got him every time was more than worth the extra task management. He’d go toe to toe with Luffy over a lunch so late it becomes dinner if that meant more time with you. Unluckily for Luffy’s impatient appetite, you knew this too. After leading you away once more, Sanji rubbed a cheek into the back of your shoulder before dragging his chin across it to whisper sweet words in your ear. 
“You’re sweeter than anything I could ever make; one more sample to help me get the taste right,” he breathed out before turning you and kissing you. Though there was no lack of passion, this kiss wasn’t meant to lead to anything; Sanji simply wanted to enjoy feeling you. Also, there were too many active flames in the kitchen for that level of distraction.
“You’re so kind keeping me company but you know I’m weak to a beautiful face,” he says softly. “Yours most of all.”
As if to prove his point, Sanji begins peppering your whole face in kisses. No one knows how to worship like this man; his lips were adoring and punctuated by nudges of his forehead against yours, eskimo kisses to your nose and cheeks and lips, and shuddering breaths warming the air you shared. He was cradling you, one hand guiding and supporting your head and one hand teasing your lower back while it held you flush together. One more searing kiss is placed on your lips before he is pulling away, trailing his hands last to touch you as long as possible.
You kept yourself busy distracting him, sometimes with questions and observations and sometimes with hugs and kisses. You knew Sanji’s palette was more refined than yours, but you also knew he meant it when he would feed you a bite of the food he was cooking because he wanted your opinion. It never failed to melt your heart; all he ever wanted was to include you and value you.
That’s why you always paid him back once you two were alone with the one thing he ever asked for: you. There were various ways he would indulge in you but tonight he just wanted to hold you and hoped that he could get you to understand how much he loves you with his endless compliments. You hoped that the adoration with which you looked at him and the tenderness with which you held him got him to understand that you always knew. It was an exchange you both would never cease, enjoying it too much and never feeling that anything was enough to express the expanse or depth of your adoration.
Sanji helped you drift off to sleep with soothing caresses to the thigh thrown over his waist and the senseless trails of his finders on your back. He cherished the weight of your head on his chest and continued to plant the occasional kiss on top of your head well after he knew you were already asleep. Like all his touches, they were for him as much as they were for you. He kept whispering sweet praises and promises to you, hoping they would reach you in your dreams.
“I am yours, my one and only love. Wherever you will go, I will follow.”
Nami
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Your day was filled, as it usually was, with Nami at your side. It started with you untangling from each other to leave the bed once there were no more reasonable excuses to stay together for just a few more minutes. Getting ready was filled with gentle bumps and languid leans against one another, still too sleepy for anything truly playful. Breakfast was eaten elbow to elbow but not thigh to thigh; she had instead hooked her leg over yours and kept it there. The whole time you felt the residual motions of her gently swinging foot massaging into the top of your thigh. It still astounded you how someone so tough could also be so adorable.
The activities of the day were always made co-operative. Sometimes that word got pushed to the bounds of its meaning (sitting back to back while studying something, tinkering with something sat at her feet while she watched the log pose, making sure to be in the same room for chores) and sometimes it was right at home (discussing plans and headings, combining efforts for anything requiring great strength, creating a two person assembly line for repetitive tasks). Either way, it made the mundane comfortable, the difficult surmountable, and the wondrous meaningful.
When night fell and all the day’s needs were met, you and Nami settled yourselves on the deck to enjoy the evening. Your legs were spread and she sat curled sideways between them, peeking out at the emerging stars from her place under your chin. You had brought out a cushion and blanket so neither the hard wood nor the ocean breeze would chase you in early. You placed yourselves against the center tangerine planter, drawn by the smell of leaves and bark and dirt. The fresh smell of the tangerine tree always made you feel close to her and it made her feel close to home.
“I’ll never get tired of this,” you began. Nami turned and nosed at your neck to urge you to continue. The barely-there touch radiated goosebumps across your skin. “Holding you, having quiet time with you. You’re so amazing and I get to be the one to share this stuff with you.” You felt a shy smile spread against your skin and your chest flooded with swirling warmth. “Seriously, Nami, you’re so strong and intelligent and beautiful and kind and you deserve the world you’re going to chart.” That smile pressed a tender kiss into you. The shakiness of her breath on your neck afterward let you know how much the words meant to her.
“I love you,” Nami mumbled, still somehow timid about saying it to you. She was unpracticed in baring her feelings, but she still tried for you. You rubbed your chin over her head once, appreciating her feather-soft hair, before settling to rest your cheek back against her. Your palm found the back of her hand and you coaxed your fingers between hers. Her thumb brushes your pinky. You bring that hand to your face and kiss the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist.
“I love you too, dear heart.” You used to feel silly giving her such an old fashioned sentimental name, but the way she would choke up or hold tighter any time you said it let you know to never stop saying it, even when she received the title as easily as she swept through the seas.
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Luffy
The D in Monkey D Luffy now stands for Dependent because he only ever functioned with you at this point. Not in the way that he’d become a sobbing needy mess if you weren’t around, but in the way that something felt Wrong if you weren’t touching him or at least within reach (thankfully his reach is longer than anyone else’s). Everything else would be left on standby while the ever impulsive man would find you to fix it without even thinking about what he was doing. That behavior had tipped you off to his soft spot for you, but the way your plate was the only one he left untouched by his stealing hands made it inarguable.
His impulsive nature also led him to hold (read: “manhandle”) you however was easiest or however Luffy felt like at the time. At first you felt a bit out of your element being at his whims and finding yourself in strange or intimate positions in front of others, but you eventually stopped caring. Sometimes it was even amusing to see the exasperated and perturbed looks you’d get from the crew if one of you was hooked around the other in a particularly creative way. One of your favorites is when he’d swing and carry you around upside down with his arms holding tight around your waist and your legs bouncing above them. It made you feel like a kid again and it was fun to jokingly threaten the others with your kicking legs at eye level. Luffy loved being able to just grab and play with you in a way that was 98% innocent (the other 2% was enjoying the view he got).
You were spending the end of the day as you usually did; sitting together on the figurehead of the Going Merry, watching the dark waves and sky. Luffy had his arms snug around you and his legs spread to frame yours. The warmth of his body felt heavenly pressed against you, contrasting perfectly with the crisp ocean breeze on your face. You held his precious hat in your hands, keeping it safe so he was free to snuggle his face into you. His hands would knead at your sides or move to squeeze yours lovingly. His swinging feet had his legs shifting consistently next to yours, only interrupted by his occasional need to give you a full body squeeze because his affection was too great to hold back anymore. He was only ever still when he was sleeping and even then he’d still manage to toss and turn whenever the whim struck him.
You turned enough to look back and see his smile, which only grew when you planted a big kiss on his cheek. His movements slowed when you trailed the tip of your nose along his cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth. You were pulling out a languid Luffy that only you got to enjoy.  
“Come on, sunshine, let’s go to bed.”
Luffy nodded in agreement then leaned his forehead into your temple. “Only if you’ll be there too,” he bargained brightly.
“I’ll think about it,” you teased, as if you could even remember the last night you spent without him wrapped around you.
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Usopp
Flustered Usopp never fails to unlock your cute aggression. That’s why you’ve taken the liberty of snuggling up to him when the crew all gathered on the deck to unwind with drinks (sans Luffy who was getting a mustache from his usual milk). You’ve been together for awhile, the crew has known you’ve been together for awhile, the crew knew even longer than that that both of you were fools for each other, and yet Usopp still gets all shy. You’ve checked in with him to make sure it wasn’t an anxious feeling, to which he responded that “the brave Captain Usopp never feels anxious”. At your deadpan look, he eventually answered much more sincerely, saying that it was more of an overwhelmed feeling. A good overwhelmed.
So you didn’t worry when you squished into his side, arms snug around his waist to make absolutely sure that there’s not a single millimeter keeping you apart. It didn’t make you pause when having your legs thrown across his lap caused him to chuckle nervously and talk through stutters. You didn’t back off when his voice cracked from the feeling of your lips pressing just below his collarbone. It was cute that it still affected him so much with the feeling of your lips muffled through his shirt.
As the night wore on and the bottles emptied, Usopp got bolder and you got sleepier. It was the perfect combination really; by the time you became boneless he was no longer afraid to pull you into his lap and indulge the both of you in affection. His skittering touches turned into sweeping caresses across your back, gentle scratching at your scalp, and soothing massages on your legs. Usopp took his time to enjoy touching you and you soaked everything in, letting it lull you further into hazy relaxation.
The transfer from deck to bedroom was a blur of leaning bodies, pulling hands, and stumbling feet. Giggles played out as well, of course; the free kind that cared not for volume control, acceptable timbre, or suppressing snorts. This whirlwind of sound and motion continued all the way until you collapsed against the bed. Thankfully the two of you had the wherewithal to fling your shoes and most of your clothes off before you fell into the mess of plush blankets and pillows. 
“How do you want me,” you asked in your most ridiculous parody of a sexy purr.
Usopp laughed and then took his time sashaying over to you, swaying more than necessary due to the influence of fruity drinks. He crawled on top of you on his hands and knees and leaned in close to you, faking a pass at your lips to then make his way to your ear. You awaited something teasing or sensual.
“Little spoon!” he said cheerfully and plopped into his side next to you.
You smiled cheerfully at his playful toying with the mood. You quickly turned and shimmied yourself backwards to lay flush to his chest. Usopp greeted you with a crushing, cute-aggression fueled hug. The way your heart pounded with joy made you thankful he was holding you tight, lest it jump right out of your chest. You returned the pressure for a moment with your own arms around his, before you both relaxed into the embrace.
“I need bedtime stories, please,” you said. You knew he’d be more than happy to give you what you wanted.
There was a kiss to the back of your head. “Of course, snuggle bug.”
You drifted off in your favorite way; wrapped in Usopp’s arms and half-listening to the fantastical tales his sleepy voice wove for you.
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Mihawk
Laying with Mihawk was a treat for the senses. All of his strong muscles became soft pillows for you to lay on and he radiated steady warmth like blankets fresh from the drier. You don’t know how he managed it, but he always smelled so good like an expensive blend of scented oils you’d only find on the back shelves of worldly markets. The weight of his hands and arms on you was soothing and made you feel protected. When his hands weren’t holding you to him, they were lightly massaging into you, working out all your stresses from the day. When he’d brush his cheek and jaw across your temple, his facial hair would tickle you teasingly or have your skin tingle pleasantly.
It made it all the more difficult when you needed to get up. Right now you wanted up because you had gotten into his hold immediately upon entering your shared room, which meant you had no time to change. At this point you had become settled enough to yearn for comfier clothes to sleep in. You moved your hands from grasping his thick shoulder and tracing shapes on his pec to plant them into the bed and lift yourself up. You pushed but couldn’t make it even a millimeter away. In fact, you’ve caused reverse progress; Mihawk's arms were now cinched around your waist, pressing you even closer. You arched your back to raise your head and shoulders. He was already staring at you. Though his whole face was relaxed, the way he stared unblinking felt accusatory.
“I have to change,” you explain, though you do move your hand to draw on his chest again. You can't help it - it’s right there. Mihawk continued to stare deeply into your eyes with those yellow irises that always had you feeling naked and vulnerable. Good thing he was always there to keep you safe through those feelings (and maybe exploit that thrill when the mood struck him). When he decided enough time had passed for you to understand what you did wrong, he smoothed one hand up to rest between your shoulder blades and pushed you back down into his chest, making you let out a little “oof!”. He kept the pressure there until he felt you fully relax against him and shift slightly to meld completely into his hold. He turned a kiss to your temple in praise for your acquiescence.
“Just a while more, little lamb,” he murmured. The way that his hands moved over you, exploring and caressing like you were precious and divine, made it easy to relent. The way his core had minutely tensed below you let you know he was dreading your parting, anxious about losing your touch.
You placed an obliging kiss against his chest and he could relax again. “Anything you want, my love.”
He guided your head up so that he could give you a kiss in return. “So good for me,” he praised against your lips.
“I’ll be anything as long as it’s for you,” you promised, staring earnestly into his eyes. You watched as his pupils dilated further, eating away at that piercing yellow.
Mihawk dove forward to give you a quick, but fierce, kiss. After pulling back, he pressed your foreheads together so your noses brushed and your breaths mingled, wishing for it to somehow bind your souls directly together, never to part.
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Buggy
You knew Buggy was going to practically smother you while cuddling tonight from the moment he shot his hand out to you upon your entrance and dragged you to meet him on his throne. As with most nights on the Big Top, there was drinking and merriment so you had to use all your skills to duck and weave through the literal circus and make it to him unruffled. Buggy had started with you sitting sideways across his lap but quickly decided that wasn’t close enough. You were turned so that you could wrap both arms and legs around him, while his arms pulled you firmly into him. You laughed because he continued fussing like that still wasn’t close enough.
You knew just how to placate him long enough to let you eat and drink before he stole you off to bed to be his personal teddy bear. You kissed his jawline with a whispered “you have such a sharp jaw, it’s so sexy” and he stopped his grumbling. You rubbed out the tension in his shoulders and he stopped fidgeting. You nuzzled into the side of his head and his grip became less desperate. You nosed at the sensitive skin behind his ear and he forgot that there was even anything to forget. Only then were you safe to lean back and have your dinner, paying for the distance with kisses to his hand, wrist, and cheek between bites of your meal. 
When you were done, Buggy threw you over his shoulder to carry you to the Captain’s quarters. It was his favorite way to remind everyone (and reassure himself) that you had chosen him and you were his. The moment you were behind a closed door, you took advantage of your position and gave him a firm slap to the ass. Instead of scolding you, he responded with a slightly harder slap to your own ass, getting you to let out a barking laugh. He may have also left his hand there afterwards to, you know, help hold you more stably.
Once in bed, you ended up exactly as expected - absolutely enveloped in Buggy. He had opted to have you lay on your back with him on your chest and his arms back to gripping you tight. His head was buried in the crook of your neck, where he tried to keep his nose in the sheets and off of you. You would shove him right back into the comfier position each time. Even with his face shoved into you, you managed to hear him complain, “You’re supposed to hold me back.” What a needy baby; your arms were already around him and your legs were spread so he could lay in between them. 
You lifted your legs up to hook around his waist, clasped your arms in a ring around his chest, and squeezed with all your might. A sharp “hnnnghk” rushed out of him with all the air in his lungs and you laughed loud and long, losing the strength of your grip under the force of your joy. You’re lucky that’s Buggy’s favorite sound because he was getting ready to bite into your shoulder for freedom and vengeance. When you settled back down, you did what he was actually seeking and pressed him into you with a firm warm hand on the center of his back and the back of his head. Both legs slid down, one to hook your calf around his and the other to press into the length of his. You felt his chest expand as he inhaled as far as his lungs would allow and contract as he exhaled all the tension from his body.
“Rest, love,” you gently encouraged. You placed a kiss on his temple. “I’m not going anywhere, even when you sleep.”
Buggy placed answering kisses to the skin at the base of your neck.
“Thank you, showstopper.”
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Shanks
This night was playing out as many had before; you sat on the floor in front of Shanks between his spread legs, sharing jokes and memories over drinks with the rest of the crew. You had each of your arms hooked behind his calves, hanging loosely from a grip on each knee. You’d indulge Shanks with sporadic kisses to the sensitive skin inside his knee and thigh. He’d repay you by playing with your hair or rubbing at your shoulders, just the way he knows you like. 
You two were sharing a large bottle of dark rum. You’d ask for it by craning your head back with a pout or tugging insistently at his clothes and he’d tease you by placing it to rest on top of your head or establishing eye contact and taking a long drink. For the past few tugs at his empty sleeve to get his attention and hopefully some rum, you only earned him deliberately missing the point to give you a kiss instead. This time he gave you an upside down kiss when you looked back and you whined into his mouth. He didn’t linger long and you tried your hardest to look upset with him. More laughs burst out around you at your poor attempt.
“What is this? You don’t want my kisses anymore,” Shanks questioned dramatically, his hand coming to his chest like he’s wounded. The effect would’ve been stronger if that hand wasn’t still holding the jug of rum. “You curse me; I can never survive without your love.”
“Then you better start paying for it with that booze,” you warned through an insuppressible grin. His chest shook with his laugh and he finally swung the bottle your way.
Over the course of the night, you made your way into his lap, allowing your tipsy self the perfect opportunity to be all over him. The crew was used to it anyway, and the two of you always scampered off before anything exceeded PG-13, so no one gave it a second thought. Currently, you were leaned into his chest with his arm wrapped around your back. Your left arm cradled what was left of the rum in your lap and your right arm was reached out to where you were diligently massaging his left shoulder and upper arm. You had worked him until he was boneless and you were positive he’d be purring if he could. Neither of you registered the jokes about the sickeningly sweet display or how tightly wrapped Shanks was around your finger. Eventually, Shanks gained the strength of will to loll his head forward and rest it against yours.
“Ready to move to bed, darling?” he asked. The gentle way he began rocking you made it difficult to answer.
“Too far,” you mumbled.
“Grab on,” he sighed, scooching you both forward in his seat. The jug was moved to the floor and you spun to face Shanks, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You let out a happy hum at the close contact. While standing up, he groaned much louder than necessary for a man who could probably lift a ship. His hand happily gripped your ass to support you the whole way to his bed. He tried to lean over it so you could detach yourself safely but you just held him tighter. Never able to tell you no, he crawled into the bed with you instead of pulling you off of himself.
There wasn’t much rearranging once you both made it onto the bed - just enough to haphazardly cover up with a blanket and make sure Shanks wasn’t crushing you to death. You felt your mind begin to float away but you couldn’t end the night without saying, “I love you, my dear captain.”
You just barely caught his eternal response before you fully slipped under.
“I love you too, my north star.”
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bonny-kookoo · 6 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 🔞 | Oneshot
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"Does he even pay you?"
Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, friends with benefits situation, major angst, mentions of sex work, smoking, smut, god so much filth, Dom!Jungkook, big dick JK but what's new, did I mention angst?, protected sex, multiple rounds, multiple positions, a brief thighjob, so many feelings
Length: 7k+ words
There is no taglist for this fic. This is a Oneshot.
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"How does it feel to be a celebrity and ending up with me?" You wonder at him over the music, making him frown before he shakes his head, pulling you in by your hands he's holding.
"What're you talking about babe?" He argues softly, letting go of your hands to hold your waist now. "I've got the prettiest girl at my side, in my opinion. Can't complain whatsoever." He tells you into your ear, voice raised a bit and slightly raspy from his last smoking break.
You just shrug, enjoying the music when some people approach you, talking to Jungkook about something you don't listen in on, even though he's still holding you close. It's none of your business, you really don't want to get too involved with his work and everything around it, but it's clear that he likes to do exactly that.
Jungkook wants you around all the time. Doesn't matter if it fits the scene and situation, if he can invite you or bring you along, he will.
Fans don't know your connection to him. They constantly battle it out in comment sections that you're just a translator, nothing else, that you're staff so of course you have to travel alongside him. And just how they can seem to connect everything to dating if it fits their 'ship' they've got inside their minds, they're also talented in finding thousands of (sometimes frankly ridiculous) reasons as to why it cannot possibly be true either.
While before, someone wearing the same jewelry as Jungkook was a confirmation of a relationship, with you its just pure coincidence. You're an adult woman, you can choose whatever necklace or ring you want, that doesn't mean you're dating him. You're wearing the same t-shirt he wore just a day ago? Maybe you just own the same, or he was nice enough to lend it to you for one reason or the other. Seen near his hotel room? Well of course, you're staff!
The truth is, that you're not even staff at all- but you're also not dating him.
Jungkook has become awfully… comfortable in his trust that fans will brush off every rumor floating around. It's why he's shamelessly grabbing your tits from behind right now just for the fun of it, lips kissing your neck as you slap them off to hold your waist instead. "They'll call it AI-generated or something." He laughs, but you can't shake off the feeling of doubt about that. "And there's no one here filming anyways. It's a private VIP zone, so relax baby." He chuckles, swaying you with him to the beat.
He's right that this is a secluded zone- but that's never stopped anything ever before, did it. One random Instagram live where you're both seen in the background and it's over. For both of you.
"Let's go back to the hotel though. I'm horny as fuck." He laughs, making you roll your eyes with red cheeks to go with.
Jungkook is a shameless person- he doesn't see anything wrong with the things he says or does if they're not hurting anybody. He's got his own opinions and he stands by them, only ever shifting his stance if there's undeniable evidence of him being wrong shown to him. And he also enjoys the more physical aspects of love.
Jungkook enjoys sex to its fullest.
He used to sleep around quite often, his charm and also wealth and status enough to make the act of finding someone willing fairly easy. Most wouldn't be believed anyways if they openly said he'd slept with them- he made sure they never took pictures or god forbid videos, and he also never stayed the night, most of the time preferred the security of his own home where he could politely tell them to leave after the deed was done, his reasoning always having to do something with his work.
'I'm sorry, I got called up to the studio.'
'Fuck I forgot I had a flight early morning tomorrow.'
'I'm really sorry, ah this is awkward, but my manager just told me to a live now, and I can't have you being seen.'
You knew he did this. You were staff at some point, after all, even if not hired by his company but rather outsourced during a particularly demanding schedule and many other employees sick due to a viral infection going around in the office building.
You'd been just another victim of his. But somehow, he ended up biting down too hard- making him taste blood, Primal hunger awakened at the mind-blowing experience he'd had, an odd need to keep you just for himself having blossomed from it all. You were a keeper, you still are- and while it's not really love, it's good enough for him. Close enough.
He reminds you, regularly, that it's not love, with how he never claims to love you, avoids the topic altogether, always tells others you're just very close even when it's obvious just like tonight that you're a little too close to just be something casual. But he enjoys your presence nonetheless. Like a dear friend, just with some deeper layers to it.
Some staff call you his personal prostitute. And in a way, you do sometimes feel like that.
Jungkook is that kind of man who could have sex first thing in the morning. Doesn't even have to wake up fully- if you touch him just a bit, he'll come to life in an instant, if he's not sporting a boner already. He enjoys the exhaustion he feels afterwards, always pushes you past your first and second O, keeps his own saved up for the very last stretch all the time. He draws it out to high heavens, has trouble calling it quits.
Shower sex he's mastered, knows exactly where to step and what position to get into to make it as safe as possible. He loves having you on his large sofa, leather easy to clean after you're both done. Sixty-nine is his favorite dinner for two, though he has to admit that lately, he's been enjoying the more closer positions a lot more. Spooning from behind, lotus, you name it- you've become more than just an outlet for him.
He doesn't know what they call you behind his back. What your unofficial status is. They'd never admit that to him, because why would they? No one wants to get on his bad side if they don't have to.
He's on his phone, free hand on your thigh as you both sit in the back of the car that's driving him back to his hotel. He's gonna get out first, make his way inside, while you'll get in later from the back entrance to not raise any suspicion. It's normal. Routine. You've mastered it by now.
"I'll see you in ten." He winks before he makes his way out the car, rushing past some fans who've found out his location, bodyguards already there to guide him inside the lobby.
"Does he pay you?" The driver chuckles, and you shake your head. "Damn." The elderly man clicks his tongue. "Go find yourself an actual man, dear." He tells you as he parks behind the hotel, watching you move, your phone vibrating in your pocket, before it stops suddenly. "You know what they call you, right?"
"I know." You admit quietly.
"And you're okay with that? You're too sweet to let yourself be used like that. Have some self-worth." The man tells you with a kind tone. "I've seen you around long enough to know that you're kind, and a nice person. Trust me, you can and will find a proper man to love you right. But this?" He shakes his head. "You know he just wants you because you've become routine."
"I know." You repeat again, sighing a little.
"You're not what they say you are. You're just a little soft at heart, hm?" The old guy smiles over his shoulder, watching you unbundled your seatbelt. "Trust me, he won't be sad if you call it quits. I've worked for guys like this for more than thirty years- they'll just jump to the next." He explains, and you smile to yourself, before you nod towards the man. "Never mess with entertainers, sweetheart. They'll always break your heart." he offers.
"I know." You say once more, before you exit the car, and get on your way to Jungkook's hotel room.
You don't officially share one, but he still keeps you around for most of the night. You leave whenever he has to do a livestream or if he wants to go to bed, and you come back if he wants you to- but most nights you sleep alone, because he deems it too intimate for you to stay.
Apparently, sleeping in the same bed is more intimate than spitting on your cunt. Interesting.
When you knock on the door, Jungkook opens. Something's off, you notice it right away, but you don't dwell on it, don't answer. It's none of your business, and he won't tell you anyways, so what's the point in just further inducing his bad mood.
It's quiet as he moves around, since he doesn't talk to you, and you don't know what to say. You wait for him to make his move, and when he doesn't, you get up to grab your sweater you forgot in his room earlier, just to have him stand behind you, hands on your hips. "I didn't forget about you." He chuckles, and you let the fabric slip out of your fingers and back onto the floor as he kisses the crook of your neck.
Maybe jungkook is indeed using you. But you've started to use him just as much, if only to even out the odds, and make yourself feel more than just cheap company.
He slips out of his shirt. You raise your arms to help him take off yours, your naked skin at this point almost a requirement for him every time he takes you. He used to be satisfied with just fucking you somewhere quiet quick and simple to quench his thirst, but over the course of time now nearing an entire year, he's become more and more hungry. Like he wants to crawl underneath your skin at some point, the Idol constantly pushes himself more and more inside your body, not just in a sexual sense. He buys you clothes he thinks will look good on you, has a playlist just for when you're at his place filled with somber lovesongs more about heartbreak than anything else. He claims he didn't look up the lyrics, but you know he's lying. He knows a lot more english than he admits, just so he can pull the 'I don't understand' card whenever he's asked a question he doesn't want to answer.
He lets you wear his clothes without much comment by now, has gifted you jewelry he's worn and liked, laughs any mention of that being 'such a sweet gesture' off if anyone around him mentions it. He's not your boyfriend, but he surely is starting to act like it- maybe the lines are blurring for him just as much as they do for you?
People around you have started betting. On when he's gonna have another one, when you'll be 'swapped out' for something else, or at what point he's gonna make it official that you're indeed more than just nightly company. You don't await that day. It's never gonna come anyways.
"Turn around." He commands, and you do, because that's the easiest way to get where you want to be down the line. Head empty, no thoughts left, fucked stupid by a man who keeps you around for just your body and the familiarity you provide. You don't really mind any longer, long having stopped caring about emotions that are fruitless, bound to rot and die because Jungkook won't ever nurture anything you'd try and plant in his heart. He doesn't want it, and doesn't need it either- if he wants to feel loved, he just has to show his face to his millions of fans always on edge for more content. That's where he gets his love from. Maybe you're just there to feed other desires he can't have fulfilled like that.
He licks his lips as he gazes over your naked upper body, bra long undone by his hands on your back, fingers trained in the routine by now. You remember the surprise he'd shown you when you'd worn one with the clasp up front, face so soft and round for just a second that it felt like you'd just slipped into a dream- but his hunger had quickly returned, because Jungkook is a beast never satisfied. He craves more and more, constantly aims for absolute euphoria, never soft, never gentle.
Jungkook bites. He claims, grips, holds and pushes- he's aware over the physical strength he holds over you, and plays around with the fact almost every night. From tugging on your leg to pushing your head down whenever you decide to please him with your mouth instead for once. Something about the way you swallow around him and swirl your tongue always makes him feral, thighs trembling as the muscles spasm beneath the skin from the force of his orgasm. Maybe that's why he keeps you around. Because you can keep up.
His own shirt is shed, and his hands make quick work of his belt before he helps you out of your pants as well. He'd told you he didn't want to use the bed tonight, because asking for new sheets is always awkward, but he does it anyways- picks you up just to let you fall onto the bed, crawling over you. "What do you want?" You ask out of breath, but he just tilts his head in familiar habit, until it shakes no.
"Don't know yet." He answers. This is new.
Usually he always has a fixed scene set out, knows how he wants to take you right away, but this time he visibly seems unsure where to start. Almost like the first time.
He spits in his hand, doesn't bother taking off the rings, fingers working you up like it's second nature. He knows where to place them, how to move and what patterns to choose- and you don't bother thinking about the possible reason for it. Probably to get you wet and ready quick so he can get to the actual act itself, or maybe he just finds some sort of personal satisfaction from it. You're not sure- and neither do you really want to ask.
You're a little cold, but he'll warm you up soon. Hopefully you won't get sick like last time. Will he find someone else to fuck if you're unavailable?
Who knows. He surely has a lot to choose from, if he so much as asked.
He's got a question on his mind, but visibly contemplates on asking it. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, tongue playing with the twin piercings placed there for a second, before he leans in, kisses you. This is one of those things he does that are just outright cruel to you. His kisses full of fever and want feel so burning hot that you're sure you're marked by them for life. Like a signature he's inked underneath your skin almost he claims you again and again like this, with his tongue teasing yours, mouths open and ready to steal each other's breath.
He surely takes yours hostage, every time- and that's probably the smallest crime he commits.
"Have you eaten today?" He asks, and it catches you off guard, eyes opening again, painfully tugged back into reality where he lets his sticky hand run over your abdomen, just to settle on your hipbone. "Your stomach keeps growling." He teases, and you come crashing down. Of course. He'd never actually remember to ask that out of the blue if it wasn't for something reminding him about it.
"Not really." You respond, adjusting your position a little bit, legs trying to pull him closer. "Doesn't matter." You say, and he hums, leaning down again to mouth at your neck- probably marking his territory again, a joke made on a constant whenever you turn up with the blooming bruises on your skin, their origin more than obvious.
"Hm." He hums, almost dissatisfied, but you don't bother to think about it. He moves to lean off the side of the bed, pulling his suitcase closer to get himself a condom, opening the package easily before he rolls it over his length. He seems oddly soft tonight, in more ways than one. Is he still exhausted from the shooting? Could be. He never wants to admit himself that he has to take breaks, thinks that his body can just magically manifest strength from nothing but pure thought, and it used to irritate you, because you felt responsible, in a way. But that was when you still saw more in this than there actually was- nowadays, it's his business, not yours. He's got nutritionists and personal trainers who get paid for taking care of him. It's not your job.
What is your job, really?
Well, you're most certainly not working under his company any longer, and neither have you returned to your original agency either- simply because Jungkook's management deemed you too much of a danger in your position, after the idol had let it slip that you two were having sex on a regular basis. So you just signed an NDA, got paid for your silence, now earning a living by writing books. Modern fantasy novels, where the daydreams you once had can actually become reality, and your hopes and wishes can be dreamed of by other people who have the same.
It's good money. A hobby you cherish.
Jungkook has never asked you what you work as nowadays. He doesn't even visit your apartment, has never seen it before, and he doesn't know if you have family either. He just takes you as his, lets you live alongside him and entertains you whenever he's in the mood for it. And you let him, because these days, he's all you've got. There's not much else you can do than write all day at home or accompany him on his overseas schedules.
You're not sure why he always drags you along, when back home, he won't even call you for days. Maybe he doesn't have to? Maybe his bed at home is always warm. But if that's the case, why not take them on a trip once in a while? Does he have designated women for specific occasions?
Then who will the woman be he chooses to show to the public one day? Number three in his harem?
You can't even truly blame him. As someone he grew up in this industry, his view on the world is warped, shifted, not the same colors as yours. He doesn't feel the same worth in a simple banknote that you do, he can't understand the struggle of missing the bus or having to face an empty fridge.
"Sit up, baby." He tells you, chuckles when you struggle a little to do so- compared to him, flying around all the time actually does take a toll on you. And the petname doesn't make it any better in this moment, as his hands reach out to hold you steady, helping your legs over his thighs, before he guides the head of his cock into you. He wants you close tonight it seems like. Hopefully he keeps holding you, because you're not very energetic this time. "I've got you." He says, and you nod, resting your arms around his neck, hands faintly touching the skin of his back. "Are you cold?" He wonders.
"A bit." You respond. He's probably noticed your icy fingertips.
"I'll warm you up." He purrs, and you nod. You know he will. He always does- always hot hearted in everything he does, even in this. He holds you close, hands on your behind helping you move, your hips rolling a bit too slow for his liking, but he overlooks it for once. You're not sure what's up with him tonight. This isn't him. "You tired, baby?" He wonders, and you nod.
"Sorry." You tell him, but he shakes his head, moves to lay you down, knees pressed into the soft hotel bed mattress as he thrusts his hips forwards.
"It's alright." He brushes it off. "Flight was long as hell." He muses, lazily moving himself. You're enjoying this, even if it's odd for him to behave this way. "Wanna come over for breakfast tomorrow morning?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"Can't." You sigh, arms now moving to lay above your head, eyes closed in bliss. "I fly out back home at 8 tomorrow." You remind him, and you can't see the way his brows lower, face darkening as he realizes he didn't know that. You usually fly back after him. Why are you going home sooner this time?
"Why?" He huffs out, hands grabbing your legs as he pulls your thighs over his, pushing himself deeper now. "You always fly after me." He almost growls.
"I dunno.." You slur. "Management said." You just respond. Why does he seem so irritated by this? It's not a huge deal at all if you fly back sooner or later. He's not gonna call you up back home anyways, so why does it bother him so much.
"Management can go fuck themselves." He argues. "You fly after me. I'll book the flight myself if I have to." he demands practically, slight irritation causing him to have his energy boil up, position adjusted as he becomes more restless, balls smacking loudly against you cunt, pace a lot more ruthless now.
You're finally reaching it. Your head becomes fuzzy.
You don't notice Jungkook becoming almost.. satisfied from that sight of your tension finally leaving. You're nothing but whimpers of pleasure as he slips out of you, hands tugging and pushing your legs and body to have you on your side, the taller Idol now laying down on his side behind you to spoon you, dragging the head of his length through your soaked and slicked up folds. one hand holds up your thigh, helps in opening you up, though you're pretty much gaping from his girth stretching you out moments prior. His lips find your shoulder, your neck, as he pushes himself back inside with the help of your hands-
who suddenly do something new as well, tugging the condom from his cock, making him gasp out in sensitivity. "What're you doing?" He grows.
"IUD." You tell him. "Please-" You beg, and yet again he moves as if awakened from slumber, pushing you halfway on your stomach as he pushes the now bare head of his cock back inside you. This is most certainly new, and he knows for a fact, that he's never going back again.
"Fuck.." He almost laughs, leaning over you now, body covering yours as he just pushes himself in for a good moment, humming a sound of pleasure into your neck as he lets himself relish in the new sensation. "Ah-" He sighs out, before he clenches his jaw, thrusting hard as if to make sure your body will remember him for days to come.
It will. Sadly.
"God, fuck-!" He groans out, holding onto your body now, having turned you onto your side, hand reaching out adjust your arm so he can see your face. Your lips are parted, eyes closed in bliss, and he can't help but have his hand smack down onto your behind that's moving in a way that's way too inviting. He does it a second time, slap clearly heard as he smirks at the way you clench around his cock currently rearranging your insides. He moves your leg to rest over his shoulder, reaching even deeper, hand underneath your belly button pressing where he can faintly feel himself move.
No one can blame him for being absolutely obsessed with your body.
He can feel the way you begin to tighten, thighs shaking a little as you come undone, his hands moving your legs again to close them once more, holding them up, slipping out of your clenching cunt to push his cock right between your soft and wet thighs. it's enough for a moment, though you reach out to touch the tip poking through almost teasingly, making him laugh as he suddenly sighs out, groaning as he spills over your stomach and up your chest. You're breathing heavily, and don't notice you start to shiver, as he parts from you to turn on the light in the bathroom to clean up.
Aftercare is not really his thing- and you've come to accept that.
When you sit up, you stretch your arms in front of you, muscles slowly regaining strength as you wait for Jungkook to finish up, toilet flushing before he emerges again, shamelessly walking without underwear, gaze following you as you walk past him to use the bathroom yourself.
The moment you re-emerge to grab your clothes, he's sitting on the edge of the bed with his boxers back on, phone in his hand. "I booked the flight for you. Tomorrow at 12:30." He tells you as you slip back into your underwear, not bothering with the bra as you search for where he'd thrown your shirt. "Here." He offers- and you slip the garment on with a thanks, only noticing afterwards that that's not yours at all, oversized fabric reaching almost to your knees. "Cute." He comments way too quiet to be meant to be heard, so you don't mention it at all.
"Why is the flight-thing so important?" You wonder, slipping into your socks as he moves around to find the hotel room service menu.
"Because you always fly back after me." He repeats again, clearing his throat.
"…you already said that." You mumble to yourself, but he clearly hears you.
"Fuck alright, god damnit!" He whines in complaint, rolling his eyes. "If you were to fly back earlier, you'll run right into all the paparazzi and shit waiting for me. That's why you're meant to fly back later- so they're gone by the time you arrive." He explains, and you're stunned in the spot you're standing, watching him a bit confused.
So that's the reason?
"It's not like they know." You say, unsure why he's so adamant about it.
"Doesn't matter." He shakes his head. "I'm not having them jump you for whatever reason they might have." He denies, before he sits down in the seat near the window which blinds are shut. "Now what do you wanna eat?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"I'll eat something tomorrow morning." You deny, and he slumps back in his seat, eyes closed and tongue pushed against his cheek.
"What do you want to fucking eat, babe." He repeats, making sure to pronounce the petname before he looks at you with frustration.
"Nothing." You respond. "Are we done?" You ask him, and he shakes his head, setting the menu down before he crosses his arms.
"No." He denies. "What to they call you?" He asks, and you're not sure what he's getting at, shaking your head with brows furrowed in confusion.
"What're you talking about?" You ask, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"What do they call you?" He repeats. "I heard what you talked about in the car when I left."
"How?" You ask baffled.
"Telepathy." He jokes without humor, before he scoffs to himself. "I called you to actually ask you if you wanted to eat something- but you must've accidentally accepted the call without looking, because I clearly listened in on a convo I wasn't supposed to hear." He explains. "Either way, I want an answer. What. Do. They. Call. You." He demands, and you sigh.
"Why does it matter?" You argue, searching for your leggings in the room- finding them over the armrest of the chair he's currently sitting in. "I'm your personal prostitute, just without the pay." You tell him, and it takes him a second to realize that that's your answer.
Suddenly, he wants you out the room.
Not because he doesn't want you here any longer, but because the guilt is eating him alive with ever second he has to look at you. Because the more he think about it, the more it becomes obvious to him that this really must look like just that to everyone. After all, he's just taking you with him apparently for sex, and he's become so comfortable in it that he didn't think about it any longer. It's what you want too, right?
Jungkook has never really learned how to convey his emotions properly. He doesn't know what it's like to fall in love, has no idea what to look out for. He likes spending time with you, and enjoys the sex to the point that he's been monogamous with only you for the past year or so. It's nice to be in a relationship, even though he knows this one isn't normal. It's still okay, because down the line, you understand each other. He likes you, he just doesn't want people to use that against him or you at some point- so he keeps your status to himself. No one needs to know you're a couple. Only you and him. Because.. you know that, right?
"You know that's not what you are to me, right?" He asks, and you shrug.
"Does it matter?" You ask. "It's none of my business who I am to you, or whoever you screw apart from me." You say.
"What?" He asks, crossed arms unraveling. "I'm not fucking anyone but you." He says.
"Cool." You say.
"Cool? That's it?" He argues. "How can you be so calm about everyone else telling you I'm apparently cheating on you?" He worries, and you're yet again confused.
"What're you talking about?" You ask. "That's got nothing to do with cheating." You say.
"No no no no whoa there. Stop for a second." He holds his hands out as if to soothe a raging crowd of people, looking at the carpet. "You- you do know we're in a relationship, right?" He asks you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know. "Oh my fucking god are you kidding me…" He complains into his hands, covering his face in frustration.
"How the hell was I supposed to know?" You say, now with your own arms crossed. "Jungkook, you rarely even talk to me when we're back home. You only take me with you when you've got something up overseas, you constantly tell people we're just friends, you've never even asked me out in the first place!" You argue.
"We've been fucking each other for almost a year, I thought it was obvious I liked you?!" He whines, looking at you with what you realize are tears brimming on his waterline. Why is he so emotional now? "Have you- did you see anyone other than me?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head.
"No." You deny.
"Okay. Fuck- okay." He takes a deep breath, swallows down his panic. "I like you. I don't- I've got no clue if it's love or not because I don't know, alright? But I like you, a lot, to the point where I want us to be something permanent." He tries to explain. "Just us. You and me." He underlines, and you shrug.
"Jungkook, it's not that easy." You sigh. "If this has been what you think a relationship is like, then we won't work out."
"Alright, then what do you need me to do?" He argues, not letting go. "God- fuck, tell me what do I have to do to make you stay?" He asks, voice cracking.
"Jungkook, calm down-" You start, but he shakes his head, swallows thickly, bottom lip quivering for just a second before he licks over it, pulls it in between his teeth.
"I can't-! Not when it sounds like you're gonna leave me-" He worries.
"I'm not, don't worry. I'll stay. Just.. breathe for a second, alright?" You ask, getting up to walk closer, pushing his shoulders back to force him out of his slumped over position. "Hey- okay?" You ask, and he instead pulls you closer, sits you onto his lap, before he clings onto you, resting his forehead in your shoulder. "Why do you never reach out to me when we're home? You're confusing me." You gently tell him, and he shrugs.
"I'm scared they'll see you." He sniffles. "If they do- they'll tear you apart." He sighs. "When we're out here, like this- I can just.. claim you're staff, whatever. But at home- I can't.. I don't know how to protect you." He shakes his head.
"You should've told me." You sigh, leaning into him. "I was hurt, you know?" You tell him.
"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He apologizes, pulls you just a bit closer. "I don't know what to do." He whines.
"What if you just visit me instead?" You offer. "They don't know where I live. And my windows are all mirrored so no one can look inside." You tell him.
"…since when?" he asks, leaning away from you a little so that you can finally see his face again, eyes red, a stray tear escaping him that you wipe off.
"Since a few months ago? Jungkook you don't even know my apartment in the first place. You've never visited me at all, ever!" You laugh, and he sighs.
"I know, and I.. always wanted to, you know, visit you.. spend time with you but.." He runs a hand over his face.
"You're okay. We talked about it now." You nod, an action he copies. "I'll come back tomorrow morning and we can have breakfast together, okay?" You ask, but he shakes his head.
"No, you gotta stay." He denies. "I don't care if you don't like that, but I need you close tonight." He says.
"Never said I don't." You say. "You just seemed uncomfortable with it." You wonder.
"Because I snore!" He whines, throwing his head back. "I snore, I move a lot, I might cling to you at night or I sweat, or whatever the fuck- I'm not as perfect as I'm made out to be." He complains.
"Jungkook sorry, but what the fuck." You laugh, and he can't help but smile at the sight and sound of you happy. "You can fart and burp like whatever, and I'd still stay. You're human, I'm not perfect either!" You explain, but he shakes his head, leaning forwards to kiss your already blossoming bruises on your neck.
"No, you are." He says. "You're absolutely perfect." He argues.
"Not really." You deny.
"Stop arguing." He complains, squeezes your waist a bit.
"What're you gonna do about it?" You tease, and he looks up at you with a heated gaze.
"Get me nice n' hard and I'll show you." He responds, making you giggle with eyes rolling, as you lean back to tug him out of his underwear, a hiss leaving him. "Fuck, baby your hands are icy!" He laughs, leaning back to hold your legs so you don't slip off of his thighs.
"That's cause it's cold in here!" You joke back, warming your hands up on his already heated length, skin already flushed and swelling as the blood rushes back. His hands travel beneath the shirt you wear, softly grabbing at the flesh of your chest, making you get up to shed your underwear and get back onto his lap.
"Think you can ride me on this thing?" He asks, talking about the seat he's sitting in. "Kinda tired right now, won't lie."
"Huh, making me do all the work now?" You raise your brows. "And here I thought you wanted to take us seriously.." You sigh, attempting to joke- but he clearly doesn't take it as such, face becoming serious again.
"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you do so- unsure what he's trying to do, before he spits into his hand once more, feeling you up between your legs to check if you're ready. You are- quickly slicking up at the thought of him, and he guides his length inside of you again, stretching you out once more, but this time, it's not just sex.
He refuses to move. He just helps you settle on his lap, but holds onto your hips, keeping you from moving. "Jungkook-" You whine, but he shakes his head, and pulls your face closer to kiss you.
"No, I wanna stay like this for a bit." He denies.
"But I thought we wanted to eat something later?" You ask, making him roll his eyes.
"I'm trying to be romantic here." He complains.
"By putting your dick inside me?" You ask.
"Well I don't know what else to do!" He whines. "I.. I don't really know how else to properly express.." He falls deep into thought for a second or two, before he finally says it. "I don't know how else to make sure you can.."
"..feel how much I love you."
You're quiet for a good while, watching how he rather looks at your neck than at you in particular, avoiding eye contact as he continues to move his hands back to your sides underneath your shirt. "Jungkook…" You mumble, and he cringes.
"Don't-" He sighs, clicks his tongue in irritation. "-don't pity me or something-" He begins.
"No no no I'm not pitying you I just-" You cut him off, now your hands holding his cheeks to force him to look at you. Because you just realized something in the things he's said earlier. "Remember how you said.. you want me to fly back after you?" You ask, and he nods.
"Yeah." He answers, his way warmer palms now taking yours from his face, holding them in his. "Of course."
"That's.. something that also shows that you care about me." You say. "Because, you didn't say that you were worried about someone spotting me and putting your career on the line- but that you were worried about me being in danger." You remind him, and he nods. "Or how you noticed my stomach growling, and wondered if I ate today." You giggle.
"I already wondered if you didn't- cause I didn't see you eat anything." He shrugs.
"See?" You hum towards him, running your hand through his hair. "That shows you care, too." You say.
"But I want you to feel it." He complains stubbornly. "I want you to.. feel the same as I do when I'm around you." He offers.
"Horny?" You ask, and he rolls his eyes, throwing his head back.
"That too-" He laughs. "But mostly.. just, I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "It's hard to explain. It's like chest constricts when I'm not around you. Whenever I'm home, I miss you so bad that I sometimes go to sleep early just to avoid giving in and calling you. I have to distract myself just to not think about you- and yet I still do, almost all the time." He sighs, tucking your hair behind your ears. "When I wake up.." He hums, hands moving to your shoulders. "When I do my morning routine.." He explains, letting his fingers travel over the length of your arms. "When I work out.." He continues. "When I go to bed. It doesn't matter at all." He shakes his head.
"You know you don't have to make up something just to make me stay, right?" You ask him, and at that, his eyes immediately snap back up to you, panic returning.
"I'm not." He denies instantly. "I'm really not-" he urges. "-how can I prove it?" He worries.
"You.. listen, it's not something that you can just clear up in a moment." You sigh. "It's gonna take time. We're basically starting from scratch here." You explain, and he nods.
"Do you.. should we stop then?" He asks, glancing between your bodies for a second. "Until you believe me?" He wonders, and you shrug, before you shake your head.
"No." You deny. "I'd miss you too much-" You tell him, before you adjust your legs, arms around his neck. "-And you'd probably go insane without sex." You tease.
"Not without sex." He denies, watching how you begin to move your hips, letting him slip out until just the very tip remains inside you. "But without you." He clarifies. "It's not sex I want- that's a… I don't know. It's the closeness I feel, you know?" He sighs when you sink back down. "I just like touching you.. being inside you.." He hums, eyes fluttering closed as he leans back into the seat while your hands settle on his shoulders to keep you balanced, pace slow but fast enough to intensify the pleasure you both feel. "Just like that.." He sighs out in bliss.
"I have a really nice couch, you know?" You hum towards him, making him smile while his hands find your waist. "My bed is really big too.." You tell him, and he opens his eyes a little at that.
"Big enough for two?" He wonders, and you shrug.
"Guess we have to find out." You tease, and he nods, hands moving from your waist to your hips before one of them finds your heat between your legs where he can see his cock disappearing inside you.
"Is the couch sturdy?" He wonders, fingers playing with your clit now, making the muscles in your thighs twitch.
"Ah- yes!" You whine, picking up your pace.
"Hm, gonna fuck you on it then." He chuckles. "Stress-test it." He jokes, and you whimper as you come undone, your slick now coating his own legs, strings of the sticky fluid keeping you both connected, wet sounds echoing off the walls of the hotel room. "Break it." He growls, heels on the ground helping him in shifting his hips upwards into you, catching you off guard, your orgasm washing over you in a wave threatening to drown you.
You're shaking, but you still move, needing to feel him reach his high as well, and he does find his own release, spilling whatever he's got left to give, holding you close, kissing whatever skin he can reach from how you're hugging him now, breathing slowly easing again.
And he keeps you like this, uncaring of the food since it's by now too late to order any roomservice anyways.
And for the first time, he actually sleeps next to you, in the same bed-
promising himself to do everything he can to keep you this close, for now and as long as you'll have him.
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2K notes · View notes
rel312 · 9 months
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God that scene in the last episode was just…
The way Charlie physically closes himself off and Nick sits at his level and gently pulls him back open again
The way Nick literally holds Charlie’s hand through the conversation
The way Charlie allows himself to trust Nick
The way Nick looks so heartbroken that anybody made Charlie feel bad about himself
The way Charlie makes the decision to tell Nick about his SH
The way Nick realizes there’s even more going on than just Charlie’s ED and braces himself to hear it
The way Charlie allows himself to admit his feelings and acknowledge that he doesn’t deserve to feel like that anymore
The way Nick can’t help but hug him
The way Charlie grabs him back and buries his face in Nick’s neck
The way Nick is trying not to cry/be strong for Charlie
The way Nick’s head falls in relief when Charlie said he doesn’t hurt himself anymore
The way Nick won’t allow Charlie to be sorry for this
The way Nick doesn’t put him down or tell him not to do it again, but instead makes Charlie promise to tell him if it gets that bad again
The way Charlie still thinks he’s a burden
The way Nick looks so sad that Charlie would think that of himself
The way Nick gently reassures him that he could never see Charlie as broken or a burden
The way Nick is showing how strong he thinks Charlie is
The way Nick wants to be Charlie’s rock because that’s what Charlie is to him
The way Nick is struggling not to cry
The way Charlie finally accepts that Nick really just wants to help him
The way Nick cradles Charlie’s face
The way it looks like he’s going in for a kiss but is actually going to the forehead for the most tender kiss
The way he immediately goes to rest their foreheads together, just exuding ultimate comfort
The way he goes in for a sweet kiss
The way he’s almost ready to say “I love you” but is interrupted
The way he knows it’s not the right moment
The way Charlie knows anyway
The way Charlie looks like he can’t believe any of this is happening to him, that it’s real, that someone loves him
The long, slow, sweet kiss goodbye
The way neither of them want to leave each other
The way Charlie lingers in the driveway
The way Nick takes a deep breath and lets himself really feel everything once Charlie’s gone
The way Charlie is ready to say “I love you” back
Joe and Kit acted their asses off for this and I’m so so proud of them
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chigirizzz · 3 months
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↳ ❝ teddy bear ❞
megumi, fluff, post argument, wrote this when i was sick lol
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the plushie that was once in your arms was suddenly kicked by you, resulting in hitting the wall and falling on the floor, its face staring at you as if mocking you. the scene perhaps would be comical if it weren’t by your annoyed mood. no matter which plushie or pillow you hugged, no matter how many times you turned around in your bed, it seems that sleep wasn’t a thing you’d accomplish tonight. no matter which plush or pillow you hugged, nothing could replace the warmth of your boyfriend’s embrace…
it was your fault. it was your fault that you and megumi had an argument and now he’s on the couch just so he could give you some space.
your mind replayed the moments before and during the argument, hoping to find comfort in the pillow that you just grabbed. none of you raised your voices to the other—that is something neither of you could ever do—, but you still disrespected him.
you needed to apologize. he didn’t deserve to sleep in any other place that wasn't your shared bed.
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megumi couldn’t decide which was more annoying: his arm going numb because his head was on it, or the stupid background laughter coming from the series on tv.
he couldn’t sleep. he didn’t want to anyway. the male pretended to not be affected by the argument earlier, however, knowing you were in your shared bedroom without him made him feel cold and lonely. the words that came out of both your mouth and his made him feel like his heart was being squeezed.
the facial expression you did when he offered to sleep on the couch described regret. it meant that, despite the stupid and unnecessary fight, you wanted your boyfriend to be by your side the whole night. however, he felt like this was the best option; to give you space and time to clear your head (and his too).
arguments between you two had happened before. it's a normal thing in any type of relationship, after all. but they still hurt.
a shadow appeared by the corner of his eye, making his fight or flight mode activate.
“oh.” it was all it escaped from his lips. it was you, not far from the couch, with your hands behind your back. it was hard to read your emotions, mainly because of the fact that the only source of light was from the tv. why were you still awake?
“did i scare you?”
“yes, you did.” the dark haired male scratched the back of his neck and fixed his posture. “need anything? did you have a nightmare?”
“no, no. i’m fine,” you answered, shaking your head. your voice and body language were way more calmer than earlier. “uh… actually, i came here to give you something.”
he frowned, confused. “what is it?”
you sat close to him. really close. your arms and knees touching, making his cheeks get painted by a light shade of pink. it was a nice and warm sensation.
megumi was never the type of physical touch until he met you. in fact, he's still getting used to it. he always appreciated his friends in silence, but never hugged them or anything (even a simple ‘i miss you’ or ‘i love you’ couldn't be heard from him). that was until your presence was written in the book of his life, adding a new chapter that completely changed his story.
“here.”
it was a teddy bear. a teddy bear holding a red heart and…a piece of paper taped to its arm?
megumi recognized the teddy bear. he offered you on valentine's day the previous year. he was all shy, scared that you were gonna think the plush was too corny. but all you did was grab his cheeks to pull him closer to you so you could kiss his forehead. i love you no matter what present you give me, is what you told him.
he caressed the bear’s ears. good memories flew over his mind, his heart now untangled and warm.
your arms were now around his arm, head resting on his shoulder. “read the note.”
sweet words could be read from the note. the handwriting was pretty and the choice of words was well done. you did you best to describe how sorry you were and how you wanted to fix things.
“i’m sorry megumi. i really am.”
“no… i should apologize too.”
“come to bed.” you tugged his arm so he could get up. “i'm tired but i can't sleep. today was tiring.”
“i don't know, the couch is actually really comfortable.” an attempt to hide his smile was made after telling you his joke.
“is this how you wanna play?”
he chuckled at your reaction. his laugh was music to your ears especially because it wasn't a very common thing from your boyfriend.
“not funny.”
all he did was ignore you and walk towards the bedroom. pretending to be offended, you jumped on his back to scold him. however, only laughter could be heard from you, making him smile even more. you will never let an argument ruin another day. you prefer moments like this one.
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runa-falls · 10 months
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pornstar!moon-boys x fluffer!reader
part one: marc
a/n: some headcannons bc we filthy up in this bitch >:)
others: steven | jake | more steven
as a fluffer, it's your job to know how to keep the boys interested. each alter has their own preferences:
(NSFW 18+ under the cut)
marc: the wretched
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Marc is a self-deprecating man and the first alter you met. He's always very serious about his work, even when directors come up with ridiculous scenarios for him to act out.
At first, he refused you, convincing himself that all he needed to prep for scenes was his hand and his phone. That didn't last long. He was struggling to get through shooting days and often forced production to extend over their time. So you were called.
He didn't expect a girl like you to come onto set. You looked like a normal civilian, clothed in comfortable jeans and a tank top. You didn't look like you belonged anywhere near the porn industry.
The first session with you immediately changed his mind. You figured him out within a handful of minutes, watching closely to how he'd react to different touches and situations.
You never take your clothes off for him because that's how he likes it. There's this unspoken power dynamic that would surprise a lot of his fans as he's known for being dominant in videos. With you, he's the one who's stripped down as you climb into his lap fully clothed.
He sighs, hands gripping your waist as the rough texture of your jeans rubs against his sensitive skin. You grind down on him because you know he likes it rough and you can already feel him stiffening under you.
He's not submissive in a way where he whines or begs, he just takes whatever you'll give him. Sometimes you'll refuse his kisses, pulling back or looking away when he gets too close, too needy. It only turns him on further because he thinks he deserves it.
Other times you'll only kiss him. You'll make out with him for the full 15 minutes he has to prepare while never touching him once and he'll last the whole scene.
But his favorite sessions are when you edge him over and over again until he's physically trembling under you. He'll never admit it but he loves when you sit on his lap. He secretly craves your closeness and the intimacy that your presence brings, so when you edge him you're perched on his lap so you both have to watch as your hand pumps his cock in between your bodies.
The handjobs are nothing special, but he crumbles from your touch anyway. You've found that you can break him in mere minutes when you make him look at you, eye-to-eye.
"Look at me, baby." You purr, using your open hand to tilt his head up. His eyes are droopy and red, a product of two edging sessions right before this. Your gazes lock and he's shivering in your hold. "Come on, give it to me." You give him a teasing squeeze and he about falls over. His breaths start to speed up and you know he's getting close.
A glance at the clock says you have 4 minutes until call time.
With one more stroke you pull away.
He lets out a low grunt and his body shudders from how sensitive he is. You be a breeze could finish him off.
Maybe you went overboard... usually you only edge him once, but three times?
He'll probably be back in this room in 20 minutes from cumming too early. Dammit.
"Ok, you have like... 3 minutes. You ready?"
You've learned to be casual, to take him out of the scene as fast a possible so he can focus. He's still sitting on the armchair, trying to calm down.
"I, uh. I think I need a minute." Marc won't look at you.
Yeah, maybe three was too much.
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fox-bee926 · 10 months
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Who did this?
Harvey Specter x fem!reader
Masterlist A/N: Wow another one? I'm going to do one more after this and then answer an ask and put all my harvey fics on one post. Then after that who knows. I have an awesome aragorn x reader fic I've been playing around with so I might work on that. Definitely going to try and do more one shots to improve my writing. I really enjoy it but depression makes it a tad hard. Anyways! Enjoy! TW: **This story focuses on the physical abuse between the Reader character and her boyfriend. I am not responsible for the content you consume so please be advised. There are explanations of abuse, but no explicit scenes of abuse occurring.** abuse (physical and emotional), hurt/comfort, Harvey being very sweet, mention of painkillers but I'm talking like 2 tylenol or ibuprofen or something Word Count: 2.5k
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You run across the street to the Pearson Hardman office building, just about soaking wet. All that protected you from the rain was a newspaper you bought right outside your building. You prayed all the way to work that it wouldn’t just completely break under the force of the rain. You had spent almost thirty minutes on makeup, twenty five more minutes than you usually spend. To go along with that, you couldn’t find an available taxi because of the rain. Not even the pain in your shoulder had let up, despite taking a couple painkillers.
Your boyfriend had gotten a bit angry with you last night after you went out socializing with some friends. It wasn’t your smartest move. You knew he didn’t like you to hang out with your guy friends without his permission. But you didn’t think it was that big of a deal. The feelings of your heart conflicted with your rational mind. All you know is you love him and he loves you. Which is why he gets upset when you go out without him. But then why wouldn’t he make time to go out with me alone?
You shook those thoughts out of your head as you swiped your card into the building. You took the time in the elevator to dry off with your sweater. Which was consequently soaked. Curses rang out in the elevator- cursing the sweater, the weather, your boyfriend, you didn’t know.
You sat down in the chair next to Donna and exchanged greetings. “How are we looking today, Donna?” You smiled as you saw Harvey sitting in his office. The only person getting into the office earlier than him was Donna.
“Full day as always. Oh, Jonathan from accounting asked for Harvey to look at his expense accounts for this last month. He won’t of course- but as long as they get to Harvey’s desk, Jon won’t speak another word about it until the next thousand dollar dinner with a client.” Donna goes back to typing rapidly on her computer. 
“And then the cycle continues,” You let out a hearty laugh for the first time since you left work last Friday. “I’ll get on that. Anything else while I’m in accounting?” You gather up different file folders that you need to take down to accounting anyway.
“Nope, say hi to Mr. Expense Forms for me!”
“Will do, Donna.”
You quickly walk to the elevator and down to the accounting department for Jonathan's expense reports. Harvey is still in the same spot as he was when you left as you open the door to his office. You make sure to open the door with your left arm, with the papers in your right. 
“I got a delivery for Harvey Specter from Mr. Jonathan Expense Forms from accounting. Fuming as always. You might want to lay off the fancy dinners for a week.” Harvey rolls his eyes at the notion.
“Sweetheart, you think I’m that good at my job that I don’t need fancy dinners to win over clients? You must think very highly of me.” He chuckles smugly as he writes words you can barely read on a legal pad. You deal his snark back just the same.
“Of course I think you’re good. You’re my boss, I’m legally obligated to think so.” You both laugh until you reach with your right arm to set the folder on his desk. You let out a noise just loud enough for Harvey to be concerned. 
“What happened to your shoulder?” 
“It’s nothing, I just fell.”
At this, Harvey looks up. You were never one to be clumsy, let alone fall so hard as to hurt yourself. As Harvey’s eyes assess you, he notices a large dark bruise on your wrist- both your wrists in fact. 
His silence worries you, and you follow his eyes to your wrists. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry-” You quickly try to pull your sleeves down to cover the spots. Remnants of rain water drove through the foundation. 
Harvey takes a few deep breaths as you stand there in shocked silence. For the smallest second, you think he’s going to hurt you. Rationally, you know the notion is absurd, but the mind that has dealt with angry men keeps you silent.
Harvey finally speaks after taking a minute to process the information he’s pieced together.
“Who did this to you?”
You’re taken aback, that small part of your mind thinking he would call you unprofessional or weak. “My... My boyfriend. He just gets a little annoyed with me sometimes. It’s truly nothing. I’ll do better to cover them-”
“A good man being annoyed never results in bruises. How did this happen?” Harvey has to go against every part of his nature not to rush out and ask Donna everything about this man, then subsequently find him. He’s thinking that those boxing lessons are actually going to come in handy.
But he knows he can’t. He knows that if he moves like that, or moves at all, he’d terrify you. He can see how your eyes dart around. Towards the door, towards your wrists, and towards himself. He didn’t know how you would react if he even stood up.
“I fell into a bookshelf. He pushed me a bit and I lost balance.”
“You mean he shoved you into a shelf.”
The way Harvey phrased it made you feel uncomfortable. “That’s a bit harsh, but you could phrase it like that.”
He stared at you in disbelief. This wasn’t the woman he saw on a daily basis. The woman that dealt with almost every slimy man that came into the building. The woman that he had slowly fallen in love with since she arrived here.
The woman before him seemed like a shell of the woman he met three years ago, and he couldn’t help what came out of his mouth next.
“Do you know how you sound? You should never be bruised, shoved, or red eyed if you’re in love. That’s simply not how it is, and I’m sorry you’ve been made to believe that.”
At this, the dam broke.
Tears had been pooling in your eyes from the moment Harvey saw the bruises. But at his last words you let out a pained sob. It hadn't sunk in just how bad it had gotten. Your boyfriend had done this a few times before, but had never gotten so harsh until last night.
All the pain from the last year had come rushing in, and you were about to break right in front of your boss. Heavy tears started to run down your face. It was at this moment you were glad you never wore heavy makeup. You did your best to stifle the sounds and cries that tried to escape, but outside, Donna still saw through the glass. 
Immediately, Donna calmly walks in. She takes one look at you, then Harvey. With a single nod from Harvey, Donna lets out a quiet "Car is on its way."
Unfortunately that made you feel even worse. "I'm so sorry, Harvey. This is completely unprofessional-"
Harvey finally stands up and walks towards you. At this point, what you need isn't space. He places his hands as gentle as can be on your arms to coax you to look at him. And you do, but looking at your red eyes and wet tears streaming down your face up close make his heart break even more.
"I don't give a shit about professionalism. Donna is getting the car and my driver is going to take you home-"
"No! He's there, he's been trying to move in with me and doesn't have a day job. He's just been staying there..." Your sentence trails off as you’re trying to process what you’re actually saying. Are you really doing this?
"Okay, then my driver will take you to my place and give you a key. We'll talk about the next steps when I get home. I'll get you some things from your apartment, okay?"
The tears were gone purely by witnessing Harvey be so calm, and you nodded slowly. All you could do was follow the sound of his voice. Like a lighthouse in a raging storm. 
Donna entered the room quietly, "The car is here."
"Good. Donna will walk you out." You nodded, not saying a word. You turn to walk out of Harvey’s office, but he reaches out for your hand. “You’ll get through this, alright?”
You give a small smile. However, your mental state did not display the same sentiment. Your mind was reeling from what had happened in the last- what, 10? 15 minutes? 
Donna leads you out the back staircase as a gesture of mercy. She knew that you didn’t want anyone else to see you like this. Harvey wasn’t exaggerating his view of you. Everyone in the office saw you as an unbreakable force.
Harvey’s driver opens the door for you. You look back at Donna, who is smiling sweetly. “I promise, Harvey will take care of everything. The only thing you need to worry about is taking care of yourself, okay?” 
You gave Donna the same small smile you gave Harvey. You were at the edge of your sanity at this point. Now that you’ve gone through all the sadness and shock of the... situation, you were embarrassed. Angry. Angry at yourself for letting a man put his hands on you for a full year. Angry at Donna for knowing exactly what was going on and getting exactly what was needed. Angry at Harvey Specter for being so goddamn perfect that you couldn’t help the butterflies that always arose in your stomach whenever he talked to you. Angry at the world for putting you in this position.
Wordlessly, you exited the car once it stopped in front of Harvey’s building. You reached his apartment without thought. You took your heels off, and put your purse on the closest counter you saw. 
And you cried.
_______
 Harvey exited the elevator with a large box held in his hands. It was purely full of necessities. A week's change of clothes, toiletries, some books he knew were your favorite. Everything else he could buy new. He looked down and saw your heels on the ground and your purse on the table beside him.
Once he set down the box on the floor, he saw you. You looked even worse than at the office. Your beautiful hair was frizzy and pulled in odd directions. The worst part was the absolutely destroyed look on your face. Eyeshadow and liner were smudged on your red tinged eyes which stared into space in front of you. 
Harvey sees your body stiff as a board on the edge of his soft couch, seemingly ready to run at a moment’s thought. “Have you been sitting like that since you got here?”
“No. I’ve only just sat down.” Your arms leaned on your knees, hands folded in your lap.
Harvey tries to ignore the hoarse sound in your voice. “Well, you can relax a bit if you’d like. I got you some more comfortable clothes if you want to change.”
Your brows furrow as you think. “Did he give you any problems?” For the first time since he came in the front door you look at him. He was visibly more relaxed than he is in the office. His suit jacket was tossed on the coat rake next to the door and the sleeves of his dress shirt were neatly folded up his arms. He walked towards the kitchen to the freezer. 
“He didn’t get a chance. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you again.” He walks over to where you’re sitting on the couch and sets down an ice pack. His shirt was obviously wrinkled, and his knuckles held the slightest tinge of blue. The thought of Harvey hurting someone made your stomach flip, but you didn’t feel quite so bad for the receiving party.
“Let’s get some ice on that shoulder, huh?” He could tell you were still sensitive, but it felt more subdued than the scared woman he saw in his office.
You nodded in agreement about the ice pack. You hadn’t really stopped to think about it until he said something. As you unbutton your shirt to reveal your nude colored undershirt, you wince. The swelling of the bruise had gotten worse since you hadn’t taken anything for it. You hadn’t noticed the pain when you were crying, but now it just felt terrible.
“Let me help.” You give Harvey a look when the words come out of his mouth, a glimpse of that fiery woman that he knows. But you sigh and relent. You managed to undo a few buttons at least before Harvey steps in.
He unbuttons your shirt down to your stomach and pulls the shoulder of the shirt down just enough to slide the ice pack onto the skin. As soon as it’s securely placed between you and the couch, you let out a groan. In relief or pain, you don’t know. All you knew was that the cold felt absolutely wonderful on your swelled skin.
You and Harvey stay like that for a while, the exact amount of minutes you don’t know and neither does he. Harvey is the first to speak.
“You’ve been awfully quiet.” 
You give him a look that says “I wonder why, dumbass.” But you refrain. “I’m thinking.”
He finally sits next to you on the couch and reaches his arm to grasp the top of the cushions. In his mind he excuses it as getting more comfortable, but the opportunity to touch you is also a bonus. Harvey was not a man of wise words for comfort, moreso actions and touch.
In a singsong voice, trying to lighten the mood, he says “Whatcha thinkin’ about.”
You smile a true smile and look towards him. Then the thoughts in your head come rushing in and the smile falls from your face. “I’m thinking about how I’ve been with him for so long that I don’t know how to live my life without him. So much of my life has been conforming to his ideals, his feelings. How am I supposed to love and be loved after him? After I’ve split my soul into so many pieces that I’ve lost track of where they all are?”
Both of you sit in silence, not sure what to say.
“I was definitely not expecting that.”
“I am... extremely sorry I said that, please just ignore-”
“I wasn’t finished, sweetheart. Firstly, I think you should see a professional about these feelings. But in the meantime, we can work on that together.” Harvey smiles, but then falters. “I- I mean, if you want. I��m not trying to get in your pants, I promise, all I’m saying is that I’m here whenever and you can stay as long as you want and-”
“Thank you, Harvey. It means a lot to hear you say that.” You laugh at the sight of a flustered Harvey Specter.
“To paraphrase, you're not alone in this. Not ever.”
You reach over with your good arm and pull him into as much of a hug as you can muster. In return, he pulls you close. Neither of you ever want to leave.
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the-kr8tor · 10 months
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Hobie catches you wearing his mask
Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN! reader/ Spider-Punk x GN! Reader
Word count: 1k
Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader (reader is mentioned to be smaller than Hobie though). Fluff, established relationship. Smut Implied
* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*
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Hobie just got home from patrolling around the city, thankfully it was an easy day compared to the other days where he comes home beaten and injured. A few robberies here and there. A small-time villain tried going toe to toe with Hobie, the fight didn't even last five minutes.
It was truly an easy day for Spider-Punk.
Even though the day was fairly laid back, no one can deny that web-slinging and crime fighting all over the city is quite tiring.
You know immediately when Hobie comes home, with the sound of the window sliding open, followed by the thunk of his heavy boots against wooden floors, the sound basically trained you to go towards him with a first aid kit and a greeting.
With a quick kiss and a tired "m' okay, love" Hobie heads towards the bathroom, shedding parts of his suit on the way.
With a concerned look towards the bathroom door, you sigh and wish that you could take some of his responsibilities. You hate seeing him so tired. With an entire city to look out for, he's stretched himself too thin.
As much as you love him being Spider-Punk, you miss your Hobie.
You head towards the bathroom door, almost tripping over his large combat boots. Bending down to grab the shoes off the floor, you follow a trail of clothing heading towards the bathroom like breadcrumbs.
You grab each piece with care, knowing that his suit and other pieces of it, means a lot to him. You fold it and place them on top of the bed, but it looks like there's a piece missing, you look down to look for it.
Behind your dresser, you see one of the spikes poking out.
Grabbing the mask off the floor, you admire its craftsmanship - every stitch he made, the eyes of the mask with its painted drooping 'eyeliner' painted with such care.
He truly made the suit uniquely him.
Hearing the sound of the shower still running, you admire the roughness of the cloth, asking yourself how can he even properly breathe in it while fighting? Can he see fine while wearing it? So curiosity got the best of you, before you could change your mind, you carefully put it on.
"Woah" you laugh with how comfortable the mask is, "it's like a second skin" you run towards the mirror to check yourself out.
Giddy with excitement you move side to side watching the spikes on top move with you. "So cool," you whisper.
In your excitement you didn't notice him watching you.
"Right, what's all this then?" Hobie raises a pierced brow, a sneaking smile on his lips. The scene in front of him helps in grounding him back to the present.
Startled, you turn away from the mirror. "Nothing!" quickly taking the mask off, you hide the cloth behind you.
"Nothing huh, What's in your hand then?" Hobie struts towards you, a towel wrapped on his hips. " Y'know, I can see it in the mirror" he points out.
You shyly look at his still glistening torso, avoiding his eyes, quickly turning away, you slowly hand him the mask. "Sorry, just wanted to see if you can actually fight in it" embarrassment prominent on your face.
"No apologies necessary, love. Just teasin' you" Hobie lifts your downturned head to face him.
"You look better in it anyway" he swiftly puts the mask back on you. Hobie grabs your shoulders and turns you back around in front of the mirror.
"Fuckin' adorable" Hugging your neck, he says with his head fitting perfectly on your shoulder.
The whites of his mask turn into slits, "m' not adorable, Hobart" you tilt your head to the side feigning annoyance.
"Right, sorry you look very punk rock, sweets" he kisses the side of your head.
"You're missing something though" he pushes off you. You miss his warmth, albeit your neck is now slightly damp.
"You're still wet" you turn behind you, rubbing your neck dry as you watch him grab something from the pile on the bed.
"Only for you, lovey" he teasingly said with a wink. Hobie walks back to you.
"Hobie!" You let out a small screech, "that's not- Hobie!" You fumble your words.
He laughs at your embarrassment. "Arms up" Hobie instructs while holding a dark piece of clothing.
You huff, but obey nonetheless. Hobie puts the leather vest on you, the spiked clothing looks big on your form. Hobie whistles, he turns you back in front of the mirror.
"Look at you" fondness dripping from Hobie's lips. "I've got my very own spider-person, huh"
You admire your appearance as Hobie tiredly rubs his face on your neck. You hold his neck in place, massaging the tense muscle.
"I wish I could help you" you whisper, he peeks at your face in the mirror.
"You are," he hugs you tightly, "as long as you're by my side. You're helping me. Never think for a second that you aren't"
Hobie turns you towards him, his own mask facing him.
He carefully tugs the mask up to see your face, cupping your face lovingly, "Coming home to you, makes everything I do worth it"
You stand on your tippy-toes to kiss him. "I love you too" you whisper on his lips.
You reluctantly pull away "You're tired, let's go to bed, yeah?"
Hobie still holding on to your leather clad waist. In one swift movement he grabs your thighs and lifts you up. Gasping at the sudden movement, You instinctively wrap your legs on his waist, the towel threateningly low on his hips.
"Look what you've made me into, I've gone soft. I have a reputation to uphold y'know" he carries you to the bed.
You giggle knowing what he's planning. Before he could throw you down on the bed, like he always does, you cling on to his neck, a pensive look on your face. He raises his brow in a question.
"One question though, how in the world can you fit your hair in the mask?" You ask.
"Spidey powers" He says with a straight face and a shrug of his shoulders.
"What? Are you – mmph!" Hobie cuts you off by kissing you abruptly. Preventing you from asking more questions.
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A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading! Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ❤️
*image above is from pinterest*
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matan4il · 1 year
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Buddie 612 meta
I don’t think we’ve had this much fodder with such few scenes in a long time, and I am LIVING!
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Okay, so first of all I have to mention the parallel between 217, when the team was coming in, one by one, to see the suspended Bobby, and this ep, with everyone dropping by one at a time to be there for the recovering Buck. The similarity is of course in the found family connection. In both cases we see the importance of the absent member of the team through these visits. The difference is in the way the team came to Bobby because they need him to be there for them as their captain and friend even when he’s not on the job. But in Buck’s case, they don’t need anything. They’re coming by because they want to be there for him when he needs his team members and friends. Buck’s parents needed a reason to love him. Buck’s found family in this ep is loving him anyway. ~~
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I’m gonna scream about the couch in a second, but I have to admit that while I was watching the ep, the moment that REALLY had my eyes shoot wide open and my breaths go into hyperventilation is when Maddie reads the note saying Buck has gone out. Because as soon as it was made clear Buck had chosen to escape his apartment and all of his visitors, I knew where he was headed. First off, the very fact that everyone else came to him, while Eddie was the one person Buck chose to go to already had me biting my fists. Once more, like in so many other cases (for example, when the lightning hit and Eddie was filmed differently to everyone else in the 118, or the way he was the only absent person in Buck’s dream and the only one Buck remembered without needing a physical object to jog his memory), Eddie is singled out as having a unique space in Buck’s life that no one else occupies. And of course there is this domestic quality and element of choosing each other as we see them repeatedly opening the door for and to get to the other one. ~~
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But just think of the meaning! This man puppy, who only ever wanted to be loved and who’s being showered with attention and care, is absolutely restless because he’s having a hard time and feels like he has to pretend with the people he loves the most, and therefore he’s failing to fall asleep on his own couch. He seeks comfort in a connection that’s even deeper than the people who have been to see him, where he can really be himself without pretense. And that’s what’s insane, because he was visited among others by Maddie and Hen, his loving blood and adoptive big sisters. NO ONE can claim that his r/s with them is anything other than deep, and yet when he needed something more, when he needed an escape, when he needed a place where he could simply rest and be himself, he went to Eddie’s. This isn’t just Buck standing in Eddie’s kitchen declaring, “I’m not really a guest” in 311. This is him being more of a guest in his own apartment than in Eddie’s house. This is him being home and safe and able to JUST BE in Eddie’s space.
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This is Buck beginning his healing by sleeping on the SAME couch where Eddie did in 514, connecting their healing in a parallel that is going to make me tear my own hair out. Which actually connects us back to 407, when Buddie talk about Buck’s need for his loft to be his safe space. Now it’s canon that this desired safe space is Eddie’s home, and I will chew through every piece of glass out there before I calm down from this. Once again, there are opposite sex canon couples on TV who never get this level of soulmate development! ~~
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Oh, I also found it very interesting that Buck tells Maddie about his list he goes through every time he wakes up, to make sure he’s not in the coma world. We didn’t see him going through those steps when he woke up on Eddie’s couch. Remember how I said Eddie had to be absent in the dream world or Buck might not have made it out of there? Well, this ep adds to that. By virtue of being the only one who’s fully absent, it means Eddie is the one person whose very presence is a cue for Buck that he’s in the real world and safe, the only one who, by simply being there, negates the need for a list. I AM MELTING. (my gif, please excuse the awfulness) ~~
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Speaking of soulmates bonding, I have to point out the opposite sex soulmates we do have in this very ep. Bobby confesses that Athena is it for him because she makes him feel like he’s standing on solid ground, she helps him be himself by finding again a piece of him.
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We also see her becoming a part of his healing process when he allows her to come to his AA meeting. This is exactly what we see Buddie going through in 612! Eddie is Buck’s solid ground, the person he can count on and who can provide him with rest (that’s what solid ground represents), who allows him to simply be himself, and Eddie is also a part of the healing process that Buck allows him into by seeking out Eddie, and by opening up to him when Eddie asks him to, after finally getting some rest on the couch... ~~
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That brings me to the couch because that in itself is just... Wow, this show really hates my nails and wants me to chew on them fully, I see how it is. Let’s not forget for how long the couch metaphor has been with us! Once Taylor and Buck discussed their couches situation when she was moving in with him in 513, and it was clear there was an incompatibility issue because she was bringing in a couch while he already had one (meaning they had already failed to communicate about this pretty basic point), it was clear they’d have to choose only one and dispose of the other. Very tellingly Taylor doesn’t really leave room for choice, so Buck (who only asked her to move in out of guilt) gave up his for hers. That’s the start of the couch being a metaphor for his romantic relationships, and I can’t believe it started a whole season before this ep! And then when Taylor moved out in 518, he was left with none? But that wasn’t unhinged enough for our show, so they brought it into an even greater focus with the lasagna scene in 601, when it was made even clearer that the “right couch” for Buck is about his romantic partner, that he’s aware of that significance, and that he admitted to it IN EDDIE’S PRESENCE. I can’t believe Buck fell asleep like that on Eddie’s couch, when they BOTH KNOW what the couch means. This is the most naked two men have ever been with each other on a TV show without taking their clothes off! Then Buck’s parents get him a couch he doesn’t want, one that’s all wrong for him, one he didn’t get to CHOOSE, so unsurprisingly he can’t sleep on it. That would have been a lot already, but then this ep turns around and SLAMS US IN THE FACE with Eddie’s couch being the right one for Buck to fall asleep on and to do so effortlessly! Two seconds on it, and Buck was out. That’s okay, 911, I just have to work a double shift while I’m sick today, I didn’t need to also have my sanity. You absolutely can have everything left of it. (my gif, please excuse it) ~~
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I know it’ll sound dumb, but I was happy crying over the beers in Eddie’s fridge and the zoomed in shot we got of them. Look, it’s their thing, right? We’ve seen the two of them sipping on beers together in the iconic 309 kitchen scene (NGL, the oral sex scene in my Blue Against Blue fic was inspired by this), and it’s been a repeated theme, so when I saw Eddie had no less than 6 beers easily accessible in the top shelf of his fridge, chilling away, it screamed “This is my Buck stash” to me.
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I will forever be a mess that Eddie Diaz, tough war veteran, actually has a supply of beers ready in his fridge for whenever soft man puppy Evan Buckley drops by unannounced. Can you imagine when Eddie goes grocery shopping and he probably smiles softly to himself when he buys his Buck beers? These two are so domestic and in love and equally soft about each other, it’s gross. And by gross I mean I love it, please gimme more. ~~
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Oh, but the domesticity just keeps leveling up in this ep! Because then Buck wakes up and makes his way to the kitchen, where he just… lets Eddie take care of him by serving water. And it’s so tender and husbandy, and affectionate, and connects so perfectly to Eddie asking Buck to share with him. Because Buck wouldn’t let others fuss over him, but he lets his hubby take care of him. And he doesn’t tell others, even ones who are significant people in his life, where he’s really at, but he will share everything with Eddie. Not to mention that it doesn’t take much to get him to open up. All Eddie has to do is ask, and despite Buck’s initial announcement not to, he just goes right ahead and spills. I am inhaling and exhaling into the palms of my hands.
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Of course, tucked in there is also Buck asking Eddie about the shooting. We all remember Buddie holding eye contact through that and Eddie reaching out to him, right? Or everything that transpired between them in the ambulance, all of it so romantically coded... This scene tells us that Eddie doesn’t remember those bits. I find it interesting to consider that maybe Eddie really doesn’t. That maybe the reason he hasn’t figured out yet how he feels for Buck is because he blanked out on the way he turned to Buck during the most intense moments of his life, and the ones he thought were his last. ~~
I mentioned during the hiatus in replies to asks I got that I suspected just like the distance between Buddie in 5a served to bring them closer together in 5b as Buck helped Eddie with his healing, the same structure was being followed in s6, just in the reverse, where Eddie will eventually help Buck. You can’t imagine how deep and meaningful I find it, that the show has actually structured these two seasons as counter paralleling each other, and showing Buddie as being a vital part of this mutual healing, so I tried to demonstrate that with this gifset. ~~
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Last one! The cardiologist. Look, I already mentioned in my previous weekly meta that the heart theme started with Eddie, and then it was expanded to Buck. I find it insane that the show really hammered it home by having the same cardiologist be the doctor for both men, and that while she’s at it, she hints to both that their issues are not purely physical. How long before the metaphor-loving Buck catches on? IDK, but every single choice about this ep feels incredibly deliberate, when so much is condensed into so few scenes.
(my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)
~~ I can’t explain how much I’m asking of the amazing @whosoldherout​ for the gif requests, and the results are always so stunning, I’m deeply grateful!
~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here. Thank you in advance for any reblog and like! I’m sick and took three different medications to be semi-functional, so I really hope you’ll like this. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you did! xoxox
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angelyuji · 3 months
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yandere bruce wayne headcanons
yandere bruce wayne x gn!reader
warnings: yandere behavior, gross guy bruce wayne, kidnapping, stalking, power imbalance, rich guy uses his rich guy money to manipulate reader, creepy guy being a creepy guy lol (lmk for anything i might've missed i am half-asleep)
im thinking ill write some actual fanfics for him soon, idk what TO write tho...
STALKKKERRRR STALEKER SJALKER STALKER!!!
he is a creature of the night so u KNOW he’s watching you from a rooftop next to ur apartment
think of the scene in the batman when he’s watching Selina undress and stuff yeah hes a peeper (hes so fine i love bruce)
my man doesn’t have any superpowers BUT hes literally the freaking batman, he has cameras all over gotham so i promise he has eyes on you at all times
he’ll watch over you and make sure ur not gonna get mugged by some loser with a gun or get caught up in a joker/ivy/freeze/whomever scheme
like hes stalking you
he knows everything abt u too with WE and the Batcomputer (lol) he’ll have all ur personal info on file, ur twitter acc, your Instagram, any social media, literally everything on a separate file that is locked behind multiple passwords and eye scans (especially if we’re looking at bruce with kids like he knows they’d open the file and snoop)
if we’re looking at pattinson!batman/early years, he’s probably gonna write abt u in his diary journal (hes just a silly little guy)
he’ll try to give you a job at wayne enterprises to keep an eye on you as bruce (obvi becuz he cant be batman 24/7) (job depends on your experience and degree) (he’ll want u as a personal assistant or something but depending on your area of expertise… you’re probably not gonna accept lol)
if u do accept for a position as assistant/secretary, he’ll have your desk 3 ft away, he’ll be calling u into his office just to talk, basically like sort of training u to be his wife (get coffee, make lunch/get lunch, invite u to be his plus one for galas) all that jazz, he’ll flirt with u but ur gonna be like “oh that’s just brucie wayne being brucie wayne, but once u get comfortable in ur role, he’ll start making moves like hand on the lower back, pressing against u in any situation possible, he’ll never seem creepy (yet) but it’ll make u slightly uncomfortable considering he’s ur boss.
i can think of 2 possibilities that could occur
1. creepiest boss ever. he’ll order u how to dress to be his assistant/how to dress at galas (skimpy dresses, short skirts, tight pants, tight fitting dress shirts that exposes everything, shit like that), he’ll LEER at u like bruce will purposely drop stuff and make u pick it up so he can watch u bend over. like the worst. you’ll get tired of this behavior and quit and bruce will get angry and kidnap u
2. still creepy but not as bad. more like extravagant gifts, vacations, parties. he’ll still flirt and try to have as much physical contact with u as possible but he knows where to draw the line. you wouldn’t quit cuz yk great pay, okay boss. but like his feelings would get too much to contain and he’ll kidnap u in the end anyway
if i had to diagnose the batmans i care abt id sayyyy 1 is Affleck, 2 is bale, and Pattinson is a mix of both. comic batman has so many different writers and each run has a different personality for him saur depends on the writer lmao
u wouldn’t be able to date cuz of yk…….. WE rules………… but he’ll get tired of that taboo/secret relationship bs pretty quickly and just kidnap u
if u don’t accept a position as an assistant/secretary, he gets it but more than likely, his feelings for u will intensify and he’ll end up taking you to keep at wayne manor
before getting into when ur stuck at wayne manor, lets break down bruce’s thoughts abt u
he has put u on a PEDESTAL
ur amazing, beautiful, gorgeous, u. can. do. no. wrong.
in his mind, ur the light to his darkness
alfred totally enables him and if we’re talking dilf bruce, the kids learn from him so they just assume this is what love is, kidnapping and manipulation
you’d adjust to life at wayne manor (not quickly but yk mf is RICH, ur gonna be treated so well once u understand that u cant leave)
bruce wouldn’t torture u but he’d pavlov u for sure
you would only be given comfort and relief when ur around him/good to him
if ur not good, then he’d probably keep u locked up in the batcave or in any of the many empty rooms at the manor
bruce wayne is the most powerful and influential person, ANDD has THE most powerful people on the planet as his best friends… you’re stuck with him babes
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To Catch A Falling Star (Idia Shroud x Reader)
Inspired by a scene from Criminal Minds
Masterlist
Reader is intended to be female
If Idia had to describe you in one word it was unexpected.
He still remembers the day he met the magicless prefect who appeared out of nowhere in a fiery blaze of glory like some leveled up shounen protagonist about to fight the final boss, how Ortho had directed you into his room before he could stop him. And instead of being repulsed by the many, many posters, figurines and merch he had scattered around his room, you were in fact…elated?
“You’re an otaku as well?” you beamed at him, your starry-eyed gaze of awe rendering him speechless before he flinches as you yell, pumping your fists in the air, “Finally! A worthy opponent! Our battle will be legendary!”
Yeah, he does not have the energy to unpack that.
Anyway, he never expected you to appear in his world, and he never expected to find himself comfortable with you, his new gaming buddy and fellow animanga enthusiast. You never judge him for his tastes or his behaviour or less than ideal personality. You were someone he could genuinely call a friend andabsolutelynothingmoreOrthoIloveyoubutpleasebequiet.
And having you around a lot, both because of you just barging into his room or by Ortho’s multitude of invites, just felt natural, your chatter being something that he could call soothing. Which is how he found himself absolutely dominating his current multiplayer playthrough with you doing your own thing by his side.
After his team had won the game, he turned to you, ready to receive your subsequent praise, only to find that your attention was diverted towards a wooden toy thing, your face scrunched up in concentration as your fingers fiddled with its many vertices.
“What are you doing?” he asked and you paused your twiddling, looking up at him. 
“Oh I got this star puzzle in Sam’s shop earlier. It reminded me a lot of this thing we have back in my world so I thought that I’d try it out,” you look back down and resume playing with it, “it’s practically impossible to figure out. You’ve got to put all of these pieces together to form a perfect star. It’s a bit of a headache really but it’s got a really sweet backstory.”
“So that thing’s got lore?” Idia raised his eyebrows and held out his hand. You gently toss it into his open palm.
“Well, you see it’s this romantic story where a young prince wanted to win the heart of the fairest maiden in the land, so he climbed up to the top of the tallest tower in the kingdom and caught a falling star for her. But, since he was so excited to give it to her, he dropped it and it smashed into all of these small pieces. So he frantically put it back together again to prove his undying love to her and he succeeded and they lived happily ever after.”
“What a load of normie nonsense,” Idia scoffed.
“Excuse me?!”
“You can’t catch a falling star,” he deadpanned, “it would burn up in the atmosphere.”
“Really?” you ask, unimpressed, “you live in a world that has flying broomsticks and magic mirrors and plants that can yell loud enough to kill someone - I really don’t think you can argue about the concept of reality when there are children here who are capable of breaking the laws of physics on the regular.”
“But still, it’s stupid,” he grumbles, “why does catching a star make you a shoujo manga male lead.”
“It’s romantic,” you argue, “he loves her so much that he would do the impossible for her. Besides, the point is that it’s impossible to do because you have to take all of these pieces and fit them exactly into the shape of a -”
You trail off, dumbfounded, when Idia smugly presents to you the completed puzzle, a small brown star sitting idly in his hand. 
“You were saying,” he smirked at your flabbergasted expression, preening slightly when it shifted to annoyed, “it doesn’t seem all that hard to me.”
“Why do you have to be like this,” you lamented, pouting as you grumbled about ‘high and mighty otakus who think they’re so cool just because they’ve beaten you in every one-v-one you’ve played’.
“Just take the L,” he said, not without a hint of condescension, as he turned back to his screen. Thankfully you were too busy wallowing to notice the magenta glowing along the edges of his hair. Why do you have to be so cute? You’re dangerous, you know.
Yeah, you’re a pretty unpredictable person. But that doesn’t mean that he can’t pull any epic gamer moves of his own.
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mononijikayu · 1 month
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happy together ─ geto suguru and gojo satoru
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As you observed the intimate exchange between them, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading in your heart. Your love was palpable, radiating from their gaze and enveloping you in its comforting embrace. It was a reminder that amidst the uncertainty and challenges of life, the love shared between kindred souls could serve as a beacon of hope and solace. If there was any possibility to split a soul into three, perhaps it was born into life just for you. You were each other’s fate, come what may. That’s what you think. You know that they wouldn’t have it any other way either. Life made sense when you were happy together. And now you are. 
GENRE: Hidden Inventory Arc - Shinjuku Showdown Arc, 2006/2007 - 2018;
WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Humor, Romance, Afterlife, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Character Death, Mention of Grief, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Fluff, Mild Angst, Pining, Reunion, House of Three;
masterlist
kayu's playlist, side 400;
listen: happy together by the turtles
note: i speed-wrote this because i had some time while i took a break from doing my school work. i love this one, you guys. cause they finally realized they should be a throuple!!! anyway, installment one done!!! enjoy it you guys!!! i love you <333
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WAKING UP WAS QUITE AN EXPERIENCE. As consciousness flooded back into your senses, you could feel your entire body jolt with a sudden shock, gasping for air as your eyes snapped open, wide with alarm. It was as if you had been yanked back from the brink of oblivion, returning to the realm of the living from where you had lain, motionless. 
Beads of sweat dotted your temples, evidence of the intense ordeal you had just endured, while short, ragged breaths escaped your lips in quick succession, reminiscent of a runner finishing a grueling marathon. A chill ran down your spine, sending shivers rippling through your body, and you couldn't help but purse your lips as you sat in the eerie stillness that surrounded you. 
Perched on the cold, unforgiving metal benches, you made a conscious effort not to lose your balance; after all, you were already prone to clumsiness. Amidst the disorienting haze that clouded your mind, one thought echoed louder than the rest: what was happening? It was a question that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, filling you with an overwhelming sense of dread and confusion.
As your eyes slowly begin to adjust to the glaring light assaulting them, you find yourself struggling to make sense of your surroundings. Every movement you make seems to flow effortlessly, your Jujutsu uniform clinging to your form, the bright yellow hoodie swaying gently against the back of your neck with each subtle shift. Squinting against the harsh brightness, your brow furrows in a gesture of discomfort before you finally manage to lift your gaze, revealing the source of the intense illumination: those bright, beaming lights overhead. A low growl of frustration rumbles silently in your throat, but you force yourself to look away, tenderly massaging your sensitive eyes in an attempt to ease the discomfort.
Yet, as you blink and open your eyes once more, a sudden realization strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Those lights—there's something undeniably familiar about them. In fact, they feel more familiar to you than you would have ever dared to hope. Casting your gaze around the vast expanse before you, you take in the massive glass windows, the endless rows of metal benches mirroring the one you occupy. Above, the wide expanding upper floors look like a circular maze, the long white columns stretching towards the heavens. Bright signs adorned with directional arrows point the way to terminal gates, their bold letters beckoning travelers onward.
Your mouth falls slightly agape, rendered speechless by the bewildering scene unfolding before you. Thoughts whirl through your mind in a chaotic frenzy. "Huh?" you inwardly mumble to yourself, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Why am I in Okinawa again?"
As you attempted to rise to your feet, a wave of dizziness washed over you, causing the room to spin alarmingly. "Too fast," you chastised yourself inwardly, recognizing the consequence of your sudden movement. The sensation of disorientation only intensified as you took in your surroundings—an empty, eerily silent airport devoid of any signs of life. This wasn't at all how you remembered Naha Airport from your previous visit with Satoru and Suguru, accompanied by Kuroi and Riko. Back then, it had been a bustling hub of activity, teeming with excited travelers eager to explore the exotic wonders of Okinawa or reluctant city-dwellers bidding farewell to the island paradise.
Your lips pressed together in a thin line as you made your way toward the expansive window, the view beyond revealing a grounded plane sitting desolately on the tarmac, devoid of any passengers or activity. Confusion gnawed at the edges of your mind as you struggled to piece together the fragmented puzzle of your current situation. The effort only served to exacerbate the pounding ache in your head, each attempt at coherence feeling like a futile road to go down on. 
With each step towards the large window space, the weight of uncertainty pressed down upon you, adding to the throbbing ache in your head. Outside, the sight of the motionless plane sitting abandoned on the tarmac only deepened your sense of bewilderment. People would be here, no, you stopped yourself, they should be here. It was a stark contrast to the lively scenes you remembered from your previous visit, where the airport buzzed with the energy of travelers coming and going.
As you stood there, gazing out at the empty runway, a flurry of questions raced through your mind. How had you ended up here, alone in this deserted airport? Where were Satoru and Suguru? And what had happened to the vibrant atmosphere you had once experienced in Naha Airport? More importantly, what was the reason of you being here? And why are you all alone? You wouldn’t have gone here alone. Not by your own will, not at all.
Attempting to piece together the fragmented memories of your journey only served to exacerbate the pounding ache in your head. Frustration simmered beneath the surface as you struggled to make sense of the inexplicable situation unfolding before you. Your hands slides down to the depths of your uniform pockets and you gather yourself for a moment. Being frustrated wouldn’t do you good. With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the windowpane, your thoughts swirling in a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty.
In the midst of the desolation, a pang of longing surged within you, a sudden ache for Suguru's comforting presence. He had always been the anchor to your tumultuous emotions, his touch a source of solace that grounded you in reality. You could almost feel the warmth of his hand enveloping yours, offering reassurance in times of uncertainty. Suguru possessed an innate gentleness, a kindness that seemed to radiate from his very being. He had a way of easing your burdens, providing comfort and relief to the pain that lingered within you. It was as if he carried a piece of sunshine wherever he went, banishing darkness with his unwavering warmth.
As thoughts of Suguru lingered, your mind drifted to Satoru, another pillar of strength in your life. Despite his penchant for cheesy dad jokes, he had a knack for lifting spirits and bringing smiles even in the darkest of times. You could almost hear his infectious laughter echoing in the empty halls of the airport, a reminder of the joy he brought to those around him. You missed the sound of his laughter, the way it bubbled up before he could even deliver one of his infamous jokes.
With a heavy sigh, you scanned the barren surroundings, searching for any sign of life amidst the desolate emptiness that surrounded you. It felt as though you were trapped within your own cage of loneliness, yearning for the comforting presence of those who had always been there to chase away the shadows of doubt and despair.
As you stood there, adrift in the labyrinth of your own thoughts, the sudden intrusion of a voice shattered the eerie silence enveloping the abandoned airport. Its resonance seemed to reverberate through the desolate expanse of the airport lounge, punctuating the solitude with an unexpected interruption. Startled by the intrusion, you pivoted on your heels to locate its source, your senses heightened by the jarring contrast between the stillness and the sudden commotion.
There, amidst the ghostly surroundings, you caught sight of Amanai Riko racing towards you, tears tracing a glistening trail down her cheeks. Her frantic footsteps echoed off the empty walls, each stride a testament to the urgency of her approach. The sight of her tear-streaked face stirred a mixture of emotions within you, a blend of concern and bewilderment at the unexpected encounter.
"Hey, are you alright?" Riko's voice called out, trembling with emotion, as she hurried toward you. Her hands moved frantically, checking your sides, your face, your hair, as though uncertain of what to do but driven by an urgent need to ensure your well-being. Confusion clouded your mind as you tried to make sense of her actions, her touch both comforting and disconcerting in equal measure. Tears welled in her eyes, her distress palpable, and without a word, you found yourself enveloped in her embrace. “You’re here, I can’t believe you’re right here. I found you!”
You could feel the warmth of her tears soaking into your Jujutsu uniform, her apologies whispered between sobs. The sight of her vulnerability stirred a myriad of emotions within you, leaving you momentarily stunned into silence. Slowly, you reciprocated her embrace, your arms encircling her as you gently brushed her hair, urging her to release her pent-up emotions. Despite your own confusion, your instinct was to offer comfort, to be a source of solace in her time of need.
At that moment, questions lingered on the tip of your tongue, but you pushed them aside, prioritizing Riko's emotional well-being over your own uncertainties. All that mattered was being there for her, providing whatever support and comfort you could offer in the face of her tears.
"I'm so sorry," Riko choked out, her words muffled against the fabric of your shirt, her voice heavy with emotion. “I’m so so sorry!”
Confusion swept over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf your senses as you struggled to comprehend the depth of her distress. Yet, despite the uncertainty swirling within your mind, your instinct was to offer comfort, to provide solace in whatever way you could. With a gentle squeeze, you conveyed reassurance, a silent reminder that you were there for her, unwavering in your support.
"It's okay, Riko," you whispered softly, your voice a gentle murmur against the backdrop of her tears. Each syllable carried the weight of understanding and empathy, a soothing balm to the turmoil of emotions swirling around you. "Don't worry about it. You don't ever have to apologize for anything, darling girl."
"But! But….I just!" Riko's voice wavered, interrupted by sobs that threatened to overwhelm her.
"Shhh…" You cooed, your words a comforting melody as you gently hushed her protests. A soft laugh escaped your lips, the sound echoing against the strands of her hair as you held her close. "I don't know why you're apologizing, but it's okay. I'm not mad about anything."
As Riko's sobs gradually subsided, you cast a glance over her shoulder, noting Kuroi Misato's approach with a gentle smile gracing her lips. "Hey," Kuroi greeted softly, her voice carrying a warmth that belied the complexity of emotions swirling within her.
Despite the outward display of kindness, there lingered a subtle hint of unease in Kuroi's expression, a flicker of guilt that caught your attention like a shadow in the midst of sunlight. It was a discordant note amidst the tranquility of the moment, leaving you with a sense of disquiet that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.
As you pondered the significance of Kuroi's demeanor, a myriad of questions danced through your mind, each one seeking to unravel the mystery shrouding her intentions. Yet, try as you might, the elusive truth remained just beyond your grasp, leaving you to grapple with an unsettling sense of uncertainty. As Riko gradually regained her composure, you gently pulled away, your concern etched into every line of your face as you met her gaze with a mixture of worry and curiosity.
"What's going on?" you asked, your voice tinged with apprehension. You slowly straighten your posture and look between the younger girl and her guardian. “I woke up here….and you’re crying. And I just….”
With a trembling voice, Riko began to unravel the unsettling truth that had brought them to this deserted airport. She looks like she couldn’t even bear to tell you. But looking at her eyes, you realized that she was gathering the courage to say it to you. You wanted to coax it out of her, suspicion making your heart beat even faster at the anxiety. She looks at Kuroi, who gives her a soft smile and nods at her. 
"We've been here for a while, on the other side of the airport," she explained, her words carrying the weight of revelation. "It took us some time to realize, but... we're dead."
The revelation hit you with the force of a thunderclap, jolting you from the realm of the familiar into the stark reality of their circumstances. It felt as if the ground had shifted beneath your feet, leaving you reeling in a maelstrom of disbelief and confusion. Each word uttered by Riko seemed to reverberate through the empty expanse of the airport, echoing off the walls like a haunting refrain.
Your mind raced to grasp the enormity of what she had just disclosed, but comprehension eluded you like a fleeting shadow. The implications of their predicament began to sink in slowly, like pebbles dropped into the vast ocean of your consciousness. This wasn't a mere misunderstanding or a figment of their imagination; it was the chilling truth laid bare before you.
As you struggled to come to terms with the stark reality of their situation, a sense of surrealism washed over you, enveloping you in a haze of uncertainty. It was as if you had been thrust into a waking dream, where the boundaries between life and death blurred and indistinct shades of gray.
Yet, amidst the tumult of emotions that threatened to engulf you, a flicker of determination ignited within your soul. You knew that you couldn't afford to dwell on shock and disbelief for long; there were questions to be answered, decisions to be made, and a journey into the unknown awaiting them all. With a steel resolve, you square your shoulders and prepare to confront whatever lay ahead, drawing strength from the bond that united you with Riko and Kuroi in this surreal limbo.
"Wait, what?" you stammered, your mind reeling with the enormity of what she was saying. It wasn’t registered. Your mouth parts, trying to get the words out. But nothing comes out. 
This airport, once a bustling hub teeming with life and activity, now loomed before you as a solemn gateway to the afterlife. Its once vibrant corridors now echoed with the hollow silence of abandonment, the ghostly remnants of past travelers haunting its deserted halls. It was as if time had frozen within these walls, trapping them in a liminal space between the worlds of the living and the dead.
As the gravity of their situation settled upon you like a heavy shroud, a whirlwind of questions stormed through your mind, each one a relentless demand for answers in the face of this surreal reality. How had they ended up here? What awaited them beyond the confines of this desolate airport? And most pressing of all, what did it mean for their future?
Yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, you made a conscious choice to set aside your own uncertainties, focusing instead on providing Riko and Kuroi with the unwavering support they needed in this moment of profound uncertainty. With a steadfast resolve, you vowed to stand by their side, ready to confront whatever revelations the future held, even as you braced yourself for the unknown journey that lay ahead.
You let yourself slowly walk back to the benches.
You take a moment and you carefully sit down.
You look at the two of them as you cross your arms.
“Tell me everything you remember when you woke up.”
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YOU THINK YOU SPENT QUITE WHILE REGISTERING EVERYTHING. The three of you huddled together in a somber tableau, grappling with the weight of the revelations that had reshaped your understanding of existence. There really isn't much to be done now, it seems. As the realization of your passing settles in, a heavy sigh escapes your lips, accompanied by a gentle rub of the back of your head. 
The irony of finding yourself in an airport at this moment doesn't escape you; it's almost as if God has a penchant for whimsy in the afterlife. Taking a seat on one of the airport benches, you purse your lips in contemplation. You know you'll be waiting here for a while, and oddly enough, that's what you find solace in. Suguru and Satoru, together. You believe they'll be alright; those two were destined for long, fulfilling lives. At least, that's what you hope for. After all, Jujutsu sorcerers aren't typically associated with the concept of 'forever'.
In truth, for you,  the concept of death had been a familiar companion since youth—a shadow that had trailed alongside you through the tumultuous journey of your upbringing. As an orphan with no prospects and no dreams to call your own, the specter of mortality had woven itself into the fabric of your being, a constant presence as natural as drawing breath into your lungs.
It was Tsukumo Yuki who had intervened, rescuing you from the abyss of despair during her travels and delivering you into the care of Yaga-sensei. Under his guidance, you had discovered the latent ability to perceive curses, a revelation that had irrevocably altered the trajectory of your life. Even then, death had not loosened its grip on you; the path of a sorcerer was fraught with peril, a reality Yaga-sensei had emphasized with disarming candor.
Yet, buoyed by the hope of strength and the promise of a newfound purpose, you had forged ahead, driven by the belief that diligence and determination would pave the way to a brighter future. In the embrace of companionship—with Satoru, with Shoko, with Suguru—you glimpsed the elusive promise of happiness, a fragile beacon amidst the darkness of uncertainty.
Now, faced with the stark reality of your demise, you couldn't help but mourn the life you had hoped to live—a life filled with love, with laughter, with the warmth of cherished bonds. The memory of your final moments flooded back, the visceral recollection of sacrificing yourself to shield Riko from harm, a selfless act that now loomed large in the landscape of regret.
As you leaned against the cold metal frame, a heavy sigh escaped your lips, carrying with it the weight of resignation and understanding. No wonder Riko felt guilty—your sacrifice had left an indelible mark on her conscience, a burden she now bore in the wake of your shared tragedy. You harbored no blame towards Riko, not even a trace of guilt weighed upon your conscience for sacrificing yourself in an attempt to protect her. From the depths of your being, there surged a profound sense of clarity—a steadfast conviction that your actions were born out of love and selflessness, devoid of any remorse or reproach.
In that fateful moment when danger had loomed large and fate had beckoned, you had acted instinctively, driven by an innate desire to shield Riko from harm at any cost. The notion of self-preservation had paled in comparison to the unwavering commitment to her safety, a commitment that transcended mere survival.
As you reflected upon the events that had led to your demise, there was no room for regret or recrimination. You supposed that it was the Jujutsu sorcerer in you. Yaga–sensei’s voice reverberated in your head, ‘A sorcerer doesn’t live for themselves. You live for others.’
The sentiment was something you wanted to laugh at. Satoru would laugh at how ridiculous that sounded, Suguru would think that it was ridiculous but it was what it was. But deep down you know you couldn’t. You know you wouldn’t. Instead, there existed a serene acceptance—a recognition that your final act had been keeping someone innocent alive. You did your duty, you stuck to your beliefs. You died well. You died fast too–you supposed that was a bonus in itself. That Sorcerer Killer had good aim too, you think. You sighed in finality, at the acceptance that this was fate. That this was what was destined. And it was what it was.
As you grapple with the weight of your departure, a single regret pierces through the fog of your thoughts, consuming your mind with its relentless presence. It's the ache of leaving behind Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko—the three pillars of your life, the anchors that tethered you to the realm of happiness and belonging.
Yet, amid this sea of regret, it's Suguru who occupies the forefront of your mind, his memory etched into the deepest recesses of your heart. You can't shake the feeling that your absence will inflict the deepest wounds upon him, for your love for him ran as deep as the ocean, binding your souls together in an unbreakable bond.
A flashback floods your consciousness, transporting you back to a moment frozen in time—a promise exchanged between lovers, whispered with the fervent hope of a future together. But now, as the harsh reality of your demise sets in, you find yourself grappling with the bitter irony of it all, the weight of unfulfilled promises hanging heavy on your soul.
You wish—oh, how you wish—that Suguru could understand the circumstances that led to your untimely departure, that he could find solace in the knowledge that your love for him transcends the boundaries of life and death. But even as you entertain this fleeting hope, a pang of uncertainty gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, whispering doubts of forgiveness and understanding.
And then there's Satoru—the other half of your soul, the one who had captured your heart with his infectious laughter and unwavering devotion. You can't bear to think of the pain that your absence will inflict upon him, the shattered dreams and broken promises that will haunt his waking hours.
A bittersweet memory emerges from the depths of your mind—a pinky promise exchanged between friends, a solemn vow to stand by each other's side until the end of time. But now, as you stand on the precipice of eternity, you can't help but wonder if Satoru will ever forgive you for breaking that sacred oath, for leaving him behind in a world devoid of your presence.
Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, a pang of guilt washes over you as you contemplate the impact of your absence on Shoko. She, too, had been an integral part of your life, a steadfast companion whose presence had brought warmth and solace in times of need. Now, as she navigates the bustling city streets alone, you can't help but feel a twinge of remorse knowing that she'll face each day without your comforting presence by her side.
You envision her, standing alone on the far-flung balcony of her dorm, the tendrils of smoke from her cigarette swirling around her like a melancholic dance. In that solitary moment, you can almost feel her loneliness echoing through the void, a stark reminder of the void you've left behind.
But even amidst the guilt and regret, you cling to a flicker of hope—that somehow, someway, Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko will come to understand the circumstances that led to your departure. You wish for nothing more than their forgiveness, their understanding, their acceptance of the choices you've made.
For now, as you stand at the crossroads of eternity, you hold onto the enduring love that binds you to them—a love that transcends time and space, a love that will guide you through the darkness and into the light.
A solemn silence settles over the three of you, each lost in your own thoughts and emotions. It's Riko who breaks the silence first, her voice trembling with emotion as she struggles to articulate the enormity of their situation.
"I... I never thought... I never imagined..." Riko's words falter, her eyes brimming with tears as she looks to you for comfort and understanding. “I just….”
You reach out to her, offering a reassuring squeeze of her hand as you meet her gaze with a soft smile. "It's okay, Riko. We'll figure this out together," you assure her, your voice laced with a gentle reassurance. “We gotta stick together, you hear me?”
Kuroi steps forward, her expression trying to lift from the veil of sorrow. She smiled. "We may not have all the answers right now, but we'll face this challenge together, as a team."
You nod in agreement, grateful for the unwavering support of your friends in this moment of uncertainty. "Thank you, both of you," you say with a sincere grin. “This might be easier with the two of you with me.”
With a determined smile, you hummed, eager to lift the spirits of your small group. You stand up from your chair. "Let's not dwell on what we can't change right now," you suggest gently, your voice infused with optimism. "Instead, why don't we explore this airport together? Who knows what we might find?"
Riko's eyes brighten slightly at the suggestion, a glimmer of curiosity replacing the sadness that had clouded her features moments before. She wipes the tears away. "That sounds like a good idea," she agrees, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Kuroi nods in approval, her resolve visibly strengthening as she takes your lead. "We'll make the most of this situation," she declares with newfound determination.
“Now, let’s go! I’m craving an ice cream sundae!”
Riko laughs as she follows closely behind you. “We’re dead, we can’t eat ice cream.”
“It doesn’t matter, I want it!” You laughed back at her, but more obnoxiously. “Kuroi, what’s your favorite ice cream?”
“Oh, that’s a hard one to decide….”
As you set off together, embarking on a journey of exploration and discovery, you can't help but feel a spark of hope ignite within you. Though the road ahead may be uncertain, you take comfort in the knowledge that you're not alone—you have each other, and together, you'll find a way to navigate this strange new world.
With a sense of purpose guiding your steps, you forge ahead into the unknown, ready to face whatever challenges may come your way. And as you walk side by side, the promise of a brighter future beckons on the horizon, filling your hearts with renewed courage and determination.
You had high hopes that it’ll be just the three of you for now.
If there was a god watching you now, you whispered a wish.
You wished that those you love would live a long and happy life.
But a few months later, you stood and frowned as you stared.
Brown eyes stared at you, cheeks flustered all the way through.
“Yu Haibara, how the fu—you were supposed to grow old, idiot!”
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YOU COULDN’T HELP BUT THINK. That’s all you could really do here, if you were being honest. God perhaps intended purgatory as a reflection on your life. But somehow, these days, you end up thinking more about your new arrival—-Yu Haibara, and how he got here. Why was he here? You already knew why. And yet you kept pondering why. Why did he end up here so early? Why should such a boy with a life long ahead of him be here? 
In the hushed moments of contemplation, memories of Haibara's sacrifice resurfaced like ghosts haunting the corridors of your mind. You didn’t tell him about it, but you ended up thinking that he was more like you than you liked. You wished in a way, that the boy he was, had been a little bit more selfish. He didn’t have to tell you how he died — you already knew. Because he was just that kind. He was too good of a person.  
His selfless act, a final testament to his unwavering loyalty and boundless courage, lingered with poignant clarity, etching itself into the fabric of your consciousness. The image of him, standing tall and resolute in the face of danger, sacrificing himself to shield Nanami from harm, was seared into your memory like a brand, a testament to the indomitable spirit that defined him. 
Nanami Kento must have been distraught, you think. Your little Ken, as you liked to call him,  was more emotional than he let on, you like to think. To lose you both in the distance of one year, that’s a big blow — at least you like to think so. Kento had few people he liked to genuinely call friends. Even with you, he was formal. But Haibara? Haibara was his closest friend, even if he didn’t say it out loud. And now Haibara’s gone. You didn’t know what to say, at first. But Haibara just smiled at you.
As you reminisced about that conversation with Haibara, his words echoed in your mind with a poignant clarity, each syllable carrying a weight of its own. His reassurance, delivered with a grin that belied his own fears, had offered a fleeting moment of solace amidst the turmoil of grief and uncertainty. But even then, you couldn't shake the heavy burden of concern that weighed upon your heart.
“He’ll be alright,” Haibara wistfully smiled at you. “He’s a strong guy you know! He’s survived this long!”
"I hope so. But he'll miss his friend the most, you know," you murmured softly, your gaze tender as you looked upon Haibara, your voice heavy with unspoken worry.
In response, Haibara had laughed heartily, his laughter a balm to your troubled soul. "Hm, I know. But we'll see him one day. For now... he has to live. Long and happily too."
Your response had been a quiet hum of agreement, the weight of his words lingering in the air like a promise yet to be fulfilled. Together, you had watched the birds outside the airport window, their graceful flight a stark contrast to the heavy thoughts that weighed upon your mind.
And then, in a moment of unexpected candor, Haibara had turned to you, his expression earnest as he broached a topic that had long been left unspoken between you.
"You know..." he had begun hesitantly, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words to convey the depth of his emotions.
"Yeah?" you had prompted, your curiosity piqued by the sudden seriousness in his tone.
"Geto-senpai and Gojo-senpai..." Haibara had started, his gaze flickering with a mixture of sadness and regret. "They were really sad about your death."
The revelation had struck you like a blow to the chest, the weight of his words crushing in their sincerity. In that moment, you had been reminded of the far-reaching impact of your passing, the ripple effect of grief and loss that had reverberated through the lives of those you held dear. And as you grappled with the magnitude of their sorrow, a pang of guilt had seared through your heart, a painful reminder of the unintended consequences of your untimely departure.
A heavy silence descended between you and Haibara, the weight of his words hanging in the air like an unspoken truth. You felt a lump form in your throat, the guilt of causing pain to those you cared about weighing heavily on your shoulders.
"I... I didn't mean to hurt them," you finally murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to articulate the turmoil within your heart.
Haibara's gaze softened, a gentle understanding shining in his eyes as he reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know, senpai. None of us blame you for what happened. It's just... hard, you know? Losing someone we cared about so deeply."
Tears welled up in your eyes, a silent testament to the depth of your remorse. "I wish I could have stayed," you admitted, your voice choking with emotion. You straighten your posture. You tried to be strong.  "I wish I could have been there for them, to ease their pain and share in their sorrow."
Haibara's grip on your shoulder tightened, offering a silent reassurance in the midst of your anguish. "I know, senpai. But we can't change what's already happened. All we can do is cherish the memories we shared and hold onto the hope that one day, we'll be reunited with them again."
You nodded in agreement, finding solace in Haibara's words. "You're right," you whispered, a sense of determination settling over you. "We'll wait. Like they’re waiting.”
In those quiet moments of solitude, you found yourself reflecting on the bonds that had formed between you and your companions, forged through shared experiences and the trials of this peculiar existence. Haibara, Kuroi, Riko—each one has become an indispensable part of your makeshift family, their presence a source of strength and comfort in the face of uncertainty.
As you watched the sunset beyond the airport windows, casting a warm glow over the empty terminal, memories of happier times flooded your mind. You recalled the laughter that had once echoed through these halls, the shared meals and late-night conversations that had brought you all closer together.
But amidst the nostalgia, there lingered a palpable sense of loss—the absence of those who had left this world too soon, their laughter now just a distant echo in the recesses of your mind. You couldn't help but wonder what they would think if they could see you now, still waiting, still hoping for a chance at redemption.
Yet, despite the passage of time and the weight of your regrets, you refused to lose hope. You clung to the belief that one day, your vigil would come to an end, and you would be reunited with those you had lost. Until then, you would continue to cherish the moments you shared with your companions, finding solace in their unwavering support and the enduring bonds of friendship that bound you together.
As the last rays of sunlight faded into darkness, you found yourself filled with a renewed sense of purpose—a determination to make the most of each passing day, to live fully and love deeply, even in the midst of this endless waiting. And so, with a quiet resolve, you turned to face the challenges of the days ahead, guided by the enduring light of hope that burned brightly within your heart.
Amidst the ever-present stillness of the airport, a burst of playful energy erupted as Riko suggested the game of hide and seek. "Let's play hide and seek!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around at the group.
You and your companions eagerly embraced the idea, craving a reprieve from the relentless monotony of waiting. With a chorus of agreement, you all scattered in different directions, eager to find the perfect hiding spot or to be the one to uncover the others' hiding places.
As the designated seeker, you closed your eyes and began counting aloud while the others hurried off to conceal themselves. The rhythmic cadence of your countdown filled the air, accompanied by the faint sounds of laughter and shuffling as your friends found their spots.
"One... two... three..." you began, the anticipation building with each passing moment. "Ten! Ready or not, here I come!"
You navigated the deserted corridors of the airport, your senses heightened as you scanned every nook and cranny for any sign of movement. Laughter echoed faintly in the distance, teasing you with hints of where your friends might be hiding.
As you rounded a corner, you caught a glimpse of movement—a flicker of movement behind a row of empty seats. Your heart raced with anticipation as you quickened your pace, closing in on the source of the movement. But as you rounded the corner, your momentum carried you forward, and before you knew it, you collided with someone—someone whose familiar touch sent a jolt of recognition coursing through your veins. You thought it was Kuroi. You believed it was Kuroi.
"Gotcha!" you exclaimed triumphantly, reaching out to tag the figure on the shoulder. 
The realization hit you like a sudden gust of wind, knocking the breath from your lungs and leaving you reeling in disbelief. The warmth of the hand against yours was unmistakable—this wasn't Kuroi. Her touch was always cool, her fingers delicate and precise. But this hand... it was different. It was warm, rough with calluses that spoke of a life filled with toil and hardship.
As the truth began to sink in, your heart raced with a frantic rhythm, each beat echoing loudly in your ears as your mind struggled to process the impossible reality before you. Why was he….here? How was it possible? This soon?
Your eyes widened ever so slowly in the shock you felt as you resisted the urge to look up, to meet his gaze and confront the truth that lay between you. You knew that if you looked into his eyes, you would see the same pain and confusion mirrored there—the same turmoil that threatened to consume you whole.
“It’s you….”
The sound of his voice, so achingly familiar yet tinged with a hint of reproach, pierced through the haze of disbelief that enveloped you. You could feel his gaze boring into you, urging you to meet his eyes, to confront the truth that lay between you.
But you couldn't bring yourself to look. Not yet. Not when the wounds of his passing were still so fresh, raw with the sting of loss and longing. Instead, you bit your lip in a futile attempt to steady your trembling emotions, feeling the hot sting of tears welling up in your eyes.
“Look at me,” he pleaded, his voice soft yet filled with an unspoken urgency.
You shook your head, unable to find the strength to meet his gaze, to face the reality of his absence head-on.
“After all this time, are you going to deny me seeing your face?” His words were laced with a mixture of longing and frustration, a silent plea for reconciliation that echoed in the empty space between you.
Your heart ached at the sound of his voice, the memories of your shared love flooding your mind with bittersweet intensity. Ten years—ten long years since you last saw him, since he slipped away from your grasp and into the cold embrace of eternity.
And now, here he was, standing before you with his hand outstretched, a silent reminder of everything you had lost and everything that could never be again.
But still, you couldn't bring yourself to look—to face the truth that lay before you, to acknowledge the gaping void that his absence had left in your heart.
“I can't,” you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse murmur.
The air between you hung heavy with unspoken words, the weight of your shared history pressing down upon you like a suffocating blanket. And as the tears continued to flow, you knew that no matter how hard you tried to deny it. He died. And so soon. He didn’t let himself grow old. He didn’t let himself live the life you wanted for him. You cried even more in the silence. 
As you looked up, your breath caught in your throat, tears welling in your eyes at the sight of Suguru standing before you. His expression softened with concern as he reached out to steady you, his touch sending waves of warmth cascading through your body. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you gazed into his eyes, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions that threatened to consume you. His purple eyes gleamed, almost so wondrously as though he was taking in the features of your face. As though he’d forgotten. He slowly smiled as tears poured down from his eyes too. His breath became shaky as his fingers rested on your chin.
In that fleeting instant, all the pain and longing you had carried with you melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and belonging. Without a word, you threw your arms around him, clinging to him as though he were the anchor that could tether you to this world. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you buried your face in his chest, the weight of your shared sorrow and joy pressing against you like a comforting embrace.
In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of laughter and the warmth of Suguru's embrace, you knew that no matter how long you waited or how far you roamed, you would always find your way back to each other. And as you stood there, lost in the embrace of the one you loved, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you—a hope that one day, you would be reunited with all those you held dear, in a place where time had no power to separate.
As the warmth of his embrace enveloped you, you couldn't help but let the floodgates of emotion burst open, tears streaming down your cheeks as you buried your face against his chest. The familiar scent of him, a mixture of earthy musk and the faint hint of his favorite cologne, washed over you, comforting you in a way that nothing else could.
“You idiot,” you cried out, your voice muffled against the warmth of his flesh. “You couldn’t even make me proud by growing old and living a whole life to tell me. You’re so annoying, you….”
But before you could finish your tirade, his laughter cut through the air, a melodic sound that echoed against your bodies and filled the empty space between you. It was a laugh filled with joy, unbridled and free, and for a fleeting moment, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at the happiness he exuded.
“I didn’t want to live a whole life if you weren’t going to be in it,” he confessed, his voice soft yet resolute. “There was nothing to smile about.”
His words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the depth of his love for you, even in the face of eternity. And as you stood there, locked in each other's embrace, you knew that no matter what trials may come, no matter how much time may pass, the bond you shared with Suguru would endure—a beacon of hope in the darkness that now enveloped your soul.
In that moment, amidst the chaos of emotions swirling within you, a sense of peace washed over your weary soul. You realized that even in death, your love for each other remained as steadfast as ever, an unbreakable thread binding your hearts together for all eternity.
"I missed you," you whispered, your voice barely a breath against his chest.
"I missed you too," he replied, his arms tightening around you in a silent promise never to let go again.
For a timeless moment, you simply stood there, lost in the embrace of the one you thought you had lost forever. The weight of the years spent apart melted away, leaving only the warmth of his love to fill the void in your heart.
But as the realization of your reunion settled in, a new sense of purpose stirred within you. You knew that you couldn't stay in this airport forever, trapped in a limbo of waiting and longing. There were others out there, waiting for you, longing to be reunited just as you had been.
You pulled away from Suguru's embrace, meeting his gaze with a determined glint in your eyes. "We can't stay here," you said firmly. "There are others who’d want to see you.”
Suguru nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring your determination. "You're right," he said. "We'll find a way. Together. But….”
You looked at him as he smiled at you, his height bearing down upon you. 
“Let me kiss you.” He whispers to you. “Before you introduce me to the others.”
You felt a soft flutter in your chest at his words, a mixture of longing and anticipation coursing through your veins. Despite the weight of the years that had passed, the desire to feel his lips against yours burned fiercely within you.
Without a word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and Suguru. His lips met yours in a tender embrace, a silent exchange of love and longing that transcended the boundaries of time and space. In that fleeting moment, all the pain and sorrow of the past faded into insignificance, replaced by the overwhelming warmth of his touch.
As you pulled away, you met Suguru's gaze, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered softly, his voice barely a breath against your lips.
Your heart flutters at his words. 
He grins at you, wholeheartedly.
You admit, your heart is a little bit full.
But you knew it wasn’t as full as yet.
Satoru, you wanted to see Satoru too.
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IT WAS DECEMBER 24TH 2018 WHEN GOJO SATORU ARRIVED AT THE AIRPORT. As you and Suguru stood by the airport benches, your embrace providing a comforting anchor amidst the chaos of the bustling terminal, a sense of tranquility settled over you. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own private sanctuary.
But amidst this moment of serenity, a movement caught your eye, drawing your attention to a familiar figure nearby. There, amidst the deserted terminal, Satoru lay sleeping, his form peaceful and serene against the backdrop of the bustling airport.
You exchanged a glance with Suguru, a silent communication passing between you as you both recognized the significance of the moment. It was an unexpected reunion, one that held the promise of both joy and uncertainty.
For a moment, you simply stood there, lost in the quiet beauty of the scene before you. The terminal faded into the background, leaving only Satoru and the two of you in a timeless embrace. As you watched Satoru sleep, a rush of emotions swept over you, mingling with the tender affection you felt for him. It was a moment of unexpected beauty, a reminder of the enduring bond that connected the three of you, even across the vast expanse of time and space.
"He didn't even wait a year after you," you remarked to Suguru, a hint of annoyance creeping into your voice as you crossed your arms. "Nanami Ken-Ken, I understand. But the two of you?"
Suguru's snort was barely audible, but the wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips spoke volumes. Memories flooded his mind as he remembered the last time Nanami had made an unexpected appearance in the airport. He couldn't help but find amusement in the way you had reacted then – your expression a mix of shock and disappointment that was, in his eyes, utterly endearing.
In that moment, Suguru couldn't help but recall just how adorable you looked when you expressed such disappointment. He knew you well enough to recognize that pout – the one that often graced your lips when things didn't go as planned, or when someone didn't meet your expectations. It was a trait of yours that Satoru, too, was likely familiar with.
But Suguru understood the underlying reason behind your tendency to pout and lecture. It wasn't borne out of mere petulance or frustration; rather, it stemmed from a deep-seated care and concern for those around you. You had a heart that overflowed with love and compassion, and you wanted nothing more than for everyone to live longer, happier lives – even if it meant lecturing them endlessly or wearing that adorable pout.
It was this caring nature of yours that Suguru found so utterly captivating, and it was a trait that had endeared you to him even more over the years. As he looked at you now, lost in your thoughts, he couldn't help but feel a swell of affection for you – a silent acknowledgment of the depth of your love and the strength of your character.
As you stood in the airport, a familiar figure caught your eye. It was Nanami, standing there in the terminal, his presence a shocking revelation. Disbelief washed over you, mingled with a sense of incredulity. How could he be here after all this time? He was supposed to be alive and well. If anyone was going to outlive them all now, it would be Nanami. Suguru had said that he had left that life behind, after you and Haibara passed away. But to have seen him there, as young as you met him, rubbing the back of his head as you
Without a second thought, you rushed over to him, your voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of annoyance. "Nanami? What are you doing here?" you demanded, unable to mask the surprise in your tone. "You... you shouldn't be here. You're supposed to be..."
“Well, I’m here.” Nanami Kento replied to you, sighing, crossing his arms. He was as much a teenager as you remember him to be. “I’m dead, senpai.”
“You….”
But before you could finish your sentence, you launched into a tirade, peppering Nanami with questions and admonishments. "You can't just waltz into the airport like nothing happened!" you exclaimed, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "Do you have any idea how bad this is? Suguru said you left Jujutsu! Why did you come back, you idiot?”
“......It’s not like I have anything to do.”
“Kento, is that you?” Yu Haibara’s mouth went agape as he stood before you all, looking at his closest friend. “You still look the same! Emo and all!”
Nanami frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Now, now,” Suguru tries to mitigate.
“Wait, I’m not done lecturing!” You impede, your brows furrowing. You sighed, lowering your head to your palm. “Let me think for a second, I’m overstimulating.”
Haibara grinned. “You can do it, senpai!”
“That’s not helping.” Nanami whispers.
“Shhhhhhhhh!” You put your index finger on your lip, glaring at him. “I’m not done!”
Your words trailed off as you struggled to find the right ones, emotions swirling within you like a storm. But despite your agitation, Nanami Kento remained silent, his expression unreadable as he listened to your impassioned speech. He knew you weren’t going to stop. You were more the parent than Geto Suguru, after all.
At the sight of your antics, Suguru couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing softly through the terminal. "Leave it to you to give him a proper scolding, even after he's dead," he remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“You’re not out of the water either!”
"You make it seem like it was a choice for us to go down that route," Suguru replied, his tone tinged with resignation. It was a reminder of the circumstances that had led them here, to this peculiar purgatory where time seemed to stand still. “It is fate, whatever happened.”
"It is a choice," you insisted, leaning against Suguru's side as you settled down beside him on the bench. "I wanted to see you with white hair."
Suguru chuckled, his smile widening as he reached over to playfully poke at Satoru's hair. "You already see so much of that on Satoru," he remarked teasingly.
You swatted Suguru's hand away with a mock glare. "Hey, he might develop a bald spot with that!" you protested, unable to suppress a grin.
Suguru laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "He's already in the afterlife, he's gonna be fine," he reassured you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
You raised an eyebrow skeptically. "We're not even sure if he's dead, Suguru! His soul is a bit glitchy from here!" you retorted back to your lover.
Suguru met your gaze with a playful smirk. "You can see souls?" he quipped, his eyes dancing with amusement.
"I'm dead, so obviously, I do!" you shot back, unable to resist a jab back at him. 
Suguru's smirk widened into a grin as he considered your words. "What if we return him back to life and he's bald?" he mused, the corners of his lips twitching with suppressed laughter.
“That’s not funny, Suguru!”
Just as you and Suguru continued to trade playful banter, Satoru stirred from his slumber, blinking groggily as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight of you and Suguru sitting beside him, the playful atmosphere of your conversation washing over him. You waved at him, happily greeting him. He couldn’t believe it. How he was seeing you greet him in that warm manner, as you always have when you were alive.
Satoru's initial disbelief gradually gave way to a sense of wonder as he took in the sight of you waving at him, a warm smile gracing your lips. It was a sight he had longed to see for years, a memory that he had held onto tightly even as the years stretched on in this strange limbo.
With a mixture of awe and gratitude, Satoru returned your wave, his heart swelling with emotion at the sight of you. It felt surreal, almost dreamlike, to be greeted by you in such a familiar manner, as if no time had passed at all.
For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in the warmth of your presence, the memory of your smile etched into his mind like a cherished treasure. It was a moment of pure bliss amidst the uncertainty of their existence in this surreal afterlife, a reminder of the enduring bond that connected them across the boundaries of life and death.
"Yo," Suguru greeted Satoru casually, a grin spreading across his face.
Satoru's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief as he processed the unexpected reunion. "This is freaking awful," he muttered, his words tinged with a mixture of incredulity and bemusement.
Geto pouted exaggeratedly, feigning offense at Satoru's response. "Hey, that's rude," he protested with mock indignation. “I can’t believe you greet the love of my life warmly but you greet me so cruelly.”
You let your tongue out at Suguru. “I’m his best friend, of course, bangs!”
He pinches your cheek as you squeal “You’re acting so cheekily again.”
Satoru sighed, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to make sense of the situation. "I told my students that when they die, they'll be alone," he explained, his tone tinged with a hint of resignation. "So I'm hoping this is just some illusion."
You couldn't help but laugh at Satoru's melodramatic proclamation, shaking your head in amusement. It was a clearly playful jab, one that you had not been able to say to him in such a long time. "That’s actually such a loser statement, Satoru," you teased, a fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You’ve gotten this lame over the years, Gojo–sensei?”
“I’m Satoru to you, thank you very much,” The blue eyed sorcerer pouts at you, crossing his arms. Though he had to admit, he liked the way you said Gojo–sensei. “And Yaga–sensei was the one who said it to me! Blame him, not me!”
As Satoru sat there, basking in the warmth of your presence, a wave of pure contentment washed over him, enveloping him in a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in years. The sound of your laughter was music to his ears. It was a harmony that he had been waiting to hear for a decade since you’ve passed. It was a feeling he struggled to put into words, a profound sense of happiness that seemed to resonate deep within his soul.
In that moment, surrounded by the familiar faces of you and Suguru, Satoru couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the opportunity to see you again. He had missed you more than words could express, longing for the warmth of your smile and the comfort of your presence during the long years of solitude in this airport purgatory.
Even as he grappled with the knowledge that he could never truly express his romantic feelings for you, Satoru found solace in the simple joy of being near you once more. For him, this moment was a glimpse of paradise, a fleeting taste of happiness that he would treasure for eternity.
In your presence, Satoru felt a sense of completeness that he had never known before, a feeling that transcended the boundaries of life and death. You were his paradise, his beacon of light in the darkness of this strange afterlife, and for that, he would be forever grateful.
As he sat there, savoring the precious moments with you, Satoru couldn't help but reflect on how his ten years in this limbo had led him to this beautiful reunion. Despite the uncertainties and challenges he had faced during his time here, none of it seemed to matter in comparison to the overwhelming joy of being with you once again.
He thought about all the times he had yearned to see your face, to hear your laughter, to feel the warmth of your touch. And now, as he sat beside you, surrounded by the gentle hum of the airport and the comforting presence of his friends, Satoru realized that this was where he truly belonged.
In your company, Satoru found a sense of peace and happiness that he had never known before. You were his anchor in this strange world, his guiding light through the darkness of uncertainty. And even though he could never express the depth of his feelings for you, he took comfort in the knowledge that he was with you, sharing this moment of bliss together. As the weight of his past burdens lifted from his shoulders, Satoru smiled, his heart overflowing with    love and gratitude. For in this moment, surrounded by the ones he cherished most, he knew that he was home.
“Does he know?” You asked Satoru, looking at him with a soft tone. 
He looked at you with his blue eyes, his glasses lowering. “Who?”
“That boy, you’ve been taking care of.” You whisper back to him. 
“How'd you know about him?” 
“I met his father around here—”
"Who cares?" Geto's voice cut through the silence, breaking the tension with a note of indifference. “He killed you.”
"I know" you retorted back, your tone gentle yet firm. "But he deserves to know about his dad too, you know. That boy….family ties run deep, especially when it comes to matters of the heart."
With a thoughtful nod, Satoru left the topic hanging in the air, shifting the focus to more pressing matters. "I've left it with Shoko to handle," he added, his tone indicating a sense of finality. 
“We’re not even sure if you’re dead yet.” You whisper back to him, your hand resting on his. “You’ll be able to tell him.”
Satoru didn’t know how to tell you.
But you looked so beautiful to him.
He didn’t want to leave you here.
He wanted to stay with you and Suguru.
He wanted to be happy here, together.
“How was fighting Sukuna?” Suguru asked him, changing the topic.
"He was strong," Satoru admitted, his voice tinged with respect. "Even though he wasn't giving his all."
Suguru nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful as he considered Satoru's words. "It must have been quite the battle," he remarked, his eyes reflecting a mixture of admiration and curiosity.
Satoru's lips curled into a wry smile, his demeanor surprisingly casual given the intensity of the confrontation. "It was exhilarating," he admitted, his voice carrying a note of genuine enjoyment. "But I can't help but feel a twinge of pity for Sukuna. He didn't bring his full strength to the table."
You couldn't help but laugh at Satoru's nonchalant attitude, leaning affectionately against him as you basked in his presence. His scent enveloped you, a comforting reminder of the bond you shared. "Only the strongest would say something like that," you remarked fondly, your eyes sparkling with admiration. "As expected of you."
Geto's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of jealousy briefly clouding his expression as he processed Satoru's words. "That's what sets him apart," he acknowledged quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of envy. "But if you're content with the outcome, then perhaps that's all that truly matters."
Satoru's grin widened at Geto's response, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "I suppose I would have been more satisfied if you were there to spur me on," he teased, his tone laced with sincerity. He gently looks at Suguru and then at you. “It would have made me feel a little bit more at ease.”
“Don’t you mean, less cocky?” Suguru teased him back but Satoru just laughed.
You take a moment to express your heartfelt gratitude to Satoru, your voice filled with genuine emotion as you speak. "I'm proud of you, Satoru," you say, your words carrying the weight of years of admiration and affection. "After all you've done, after all you've been through... I'm just so happy to see you again, to be together with you and Suguru."
As you gaze at Satoru, a sense of completeness washes over you, the weight of years of separation lifting from your shoulders. "You've brought so much light into my life," you continue, your voice soft but filled with conviction. "My heart feels whole again, thanks to you."
“South or north,” Satoru says, after a moment of silence. “Where do you think I should go?”
Satoru's question lingered in the air like a heavy fog, casting a veil of uncertainty over the moment. You and Suguru exchanged a meaningful glance, both understanding the weight of Satoru's decision. Going south meant embracing the reunion, journeying together towards an uncertain but hopeful future. Going north meant bidding farewell once again, facing the prospect of separation with stoic resolve.
"Moving south," you begin, your gaze drifting towards the direction of the plane resting on the tarmac. You turn back to Satoru, a smile playing on your lips, though this one carries a hint of somberness. "Means you'll stay as you are."
Satoru takes in your words, his expression thoughtful as he absorbs their implications. Leaning against the airport bench, he looks at you and Suguru, the two people who make up his world, with a sense of resolve. "Here," he breathes out, his voice tinged with determination. "True to myself."
Suguru nods in understanding, his gaze shifting between you and Satoru. "But to go north…," he begins, his tone gentle yet firm. "You'll discover a new part of yourself. Another you."
Satoru's expression tightens slightly, the weight of his decision bearing down on him. "But without you," he adds, his voice heavy with unspoken regret. It's a realization he never wanted to voice, but one he knows he must confront. He isn't truly dead, and he can feel it as much as you can.
Your eyes soften as you meet Satoru's gaze, your palm instinctively resting on top of his hand in a gesture of comfort. "Just for now," you assure him, your voice filled with warmth and understanding. "It's not forever."
"We'll wait for you, until the next flight," Suguru chimes in, his grin conveying unwavering strength for the blue eyed sorcerer. Together, the three of you stand at the crossroads of possibility, each prepared to face the future with courage and determination, no matter which path Satoru chooses. “Even if everyone goes ahead, we’ll be here. Waiting for you.”
Satoru's eyes soften as he stands, his gaze shifting towards the north. With a determined nod, he takes a step forward, his eyes meeting yours with a depth of emotion that transcends words. Leaning in, he presses a gentle kiss on your hair, a silent gesture of gratitude and affection for all that you mean to him.
Satoru's warm smile illuminated his features as he turned to Suguru, a silent expression of gratitude and affection passing between them. With gentle tenderness, he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on Suguru's cheek, a simple yet profound gesture of love and reassurance.
Suguru's eyes met Satoru's, a softness reflecting in their depths as they exchanged a silent conversation. It was a moment of quiet understanding, a wordless exchange that spoke volumes of their deep bond and unwavering commitment to each other.
As you observed the intimate exchange between them, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading in your heart. Your love was palpable, radiating from their gaze and enveloping you in its comforting embrace. It was a reminder that amidst the uncertainty and challenges of life, the love shared between kindred souls could serve as a beacon of hope and solace. If there was any possibility to split a soul into three, perhaps it was born into life just for you. You were each other’s fate, come what may. That’s what you think. You know that they wouldn’t have it any other way either. Life made sense when you were happy together. And now you are. 
In that moment, as you looked at them and they looked back at you, you felt a profound sense of reassurance. Their eyes held the promise of a brighter tomorrow, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the enduring power of love. It was as if they were whispering to you with the windows of their souls, assuring you that everything would be alright, no matter what challenges lay ahead.
As Satoru straightens, his resolve firm and his heart heavy with the weight of his decision, he meets your gaze one last time. In that fleeting moment, you share a silent understanding, a mutual promise to await his return and embrace whatever the future may hold. Suguru wraps his arms around you, grinning at Satoru. 
With one final glance at the two of you. You urge him forward, your eyes swimming with a watery glaze. He smiles at you and whispers to you, to Suguru – ‘I love you’;
‘I know.’ Both you and Suguru whisper back.
As Gojo Satoru takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed towards the north, a sense of resolve washes over him. He knows not what awaits him on the path ahead, but he steps forward with unwavering courage and determination. The road may be shrouded in uncertainty, but he finds solace in the knowledge that the bonds of love, forged over years of companionship and camaraderie, will serve as his guiding light.
You and Suguru stand by, silent witnesses to Satoru's journey, your presence a source of strength and support. Though the time for your reunion may not yet have come, Satoru carries your wishes in his heart as he ventures forth into the unknown. He is determined to fulfill your desire for him to live a long and happy life, to carry on in your memory and honor your legacy.
But there are tasks still left unfinished, promises yet to be fulfilled. Satoru's thoughts turn to the future, to the responsibilities that await him. He must see to it that your final wishes are carried out, that you and Suguru find peace together. He must be there for Shoko, for Megumi, for his students who look up to him with admiration and respect. They still need him, relying on his guidance and wisdom to navigate the trials that lie ahead.
With each step he takes, Satoru embraces the uncertainty of the journey, knowing that with courage and determination, he will find his way home. And though the road may be long and fraught with challenges, he walks it with the assurance that love will light the way, leading him back to the warmth and comfort of your embrace, one day. But not yet. For now, he walks forward, his heart filled with hope and his spirit fortified by the knowledge that you and Suguru will always be with him, guiding him home.
It may take some time. 
He’d be away from you.
But he knows he’ll return.
Three of you, together.
You’ll be happy together.
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echo-and-dust · 2 months
Text
now that my brain has somewhat unscrambled itself i have gotten most of my thoughts in order about season 3.
and the first thing i will say is: i loved it.
while it was gutwrenching and polarizing in some ways and i feel that i am entitled to financial compensation for what its done to my mental health, i loved this season for pretty much almost everything it did.
i cannot fault people for having issues with much of the characterization and plot choices made—that’s been the trend during the entire run of the show after all, and imo it’s a testament to the phenomenal way it generates nuance—but i wanted to share my feelings on the recurring opinions i’ve seen about some of these things.
first, i do not blame simon at all for the things he said in the final scene. he’s a child who has been receiving endless verbal and physical harassment on top of all the trauma he is still trying to heal from. he just watched his boyfriend lash out in anger and hurt—while not at him, but it must’ve been a close resemblance of how he might’ve seen micke act. at least, that's what i thought, though i've seen others say otherwise.
and yes, wille is not micke, but just because wille’s source of outbursts is different from micke’s doesn’t mean simon is wrong in drawing similarities. at least he's finally getting a true glimpse into what wille has had to deal with. i've honestly grown to like that they didn't have simon immediately comfort him though; wille's mental illness is not his fault, but it is his responsibility, and instead of pushing a message of unhealthy co-dependence, the show has simon be honest: "but i see that everything hurts you and that hurts me too." and to me, that's so important.
plus, it doesn't make their love any less genuine. wille is a victim of the circumstances; he is not evil, and he is not undeserving of simon. he just has a lot of growing and healing to do, a lot of unlearning and exposure therapy because he's still blinded by privilege even when he tries not to be.
speaking of, i have so many thoughts about wille that i feel like i need to save for its own separate post, but to sum them up: i'll still defend him with my life, and he needs to get the fuck away from that institution.
also, the fact that the responsibility of controlling simon's media decisions was placed solely on wille confused me at first like—why wouldn't they get a professional to give him proper media training?
then i realized, this could be the royal court's way of sabotaging their relationship. they knew that making wille the one to tell simon what he can and cannot say or post would create distance and animosity between them. despite the ramifications of simon's behavior on social media, it seems they still thought it best to have his boyfriend be the one to try to mold him into the system. because they knew that's how they could get rid of him. in conclusion, fuck the royal court (we been knew but still).
one of the standouts this season was their transparency regarding the show's politics. it not only works well with the show's arc (wilmon is public, everything's out in the open now and there's nothing to hide), but also it felt necessary at a time where censorship has been rapidly gaining momentum. it felt so refreshing for these characters to talk so openly about racial discrimination and queerphobia and class disparities, forcing both character and viewer to acknowledge that they exist and you should feel uncomfortable about it.
i don't think i can add much more to what was already said about it—most of the fandom is more eloquent and observant than i am anyway—i just wanted to reinforce how important this season is to myself and the story even with how controversial it is to fans right now. a lot of people may disagree with me and that's fine.
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