#because he doesn’t stand himself up to appear as a god or anything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tender-rosiey · 1 year

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Hello. Can I ask imagine (or headcannons, if it would be more convenient for you) for Mori Ogai, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol (separately) and their fem!s/o? Their child is jealous of his mother (s/o) to his father and tries to take all the attention of his mother to himself. Please.

“PAPA GET AWAY FROM MAMA!”

— your child being jealous of dazai, fyodor, chuuya, nikolai and kunikida

a/n: I do hope that this is what you wanted and that you like it <;33

DAZAI OSAMU:

dazai never thought he would be bestowed the blessing or the bliss of having a family, but here he is. he has you wrapped in his arms and he is certain that nothing could feel better than this.

however, it is eerily quiet in this household and osamu guesses it’s because the little devil is asleep, the little devil being his son.

his son looks exactly like you, but my god if the kid doesn’t have the same amount of love dazai has for you then dazai doesn’t know what does he have.

the kid never lets him have his time alone with you and for some reason is genuinely upset whenever you and dazai hug or kiss.

that’s why dazai is making the most out of his time today.

he starts pressing kisses to your shoulder, “it’s been a while, right, belladonna?” your fingers find their way through his hair and dazai smiles instantly, “my pretty wife.”

alas, good things don’t last because the both of your are snapped from your sweet moment by the offended and sob-filled screech of your son.

the kid is balling his eyes out at the scene and starts screaming, “GET AWAY FROM MOMMY!”

dazai’s eyes widen; however, before he responds, you push him away and run to your son to coddle him and calm him down.

dazai pouts but lets it go because his son probably needs the hug.

but, what dazai didn’t expect was that his son would grin and stick his tongue out at his dad.

dazai is flabbergasted, but smiles back.

“she was and is my wife before being your mom,” he whispers and winks pointing at the ring on his finger.

your son frowns and simply huffs, assuming that you’re clueless to what the heck is happening while you’re hugging him.

your, petty, husband also believes that this banter would go unnoticed by you so he sticks his tongue out at his son and his son gasps quietly.

well, they’re both equally stupid cause you obviously know, but oh well.

FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY:

never in a million years did he imagine that the person who would challenge him in everything would be his own daughter, his way too smart for a 7 year old, daughter.

today, she saw him hugging you from the back while you were cooking and decided that it’s enough time with you for him.

“father,” she calls out and he hums in response.

“that’s enough time with mom; get away,” she says calmly and he doesn’t look at her and instead tightens his hold on you and whispers, “milaya, you look breathtaking, today.”

you shake your head with a smile and a small, rare chuckle escapes fyodor.

“father, please distance yourself from mother,” she says one last time, patience running out.

fyodor looks at her, “and if I don’t, dear?”

she blinks up at him then kicks him in the shins. he staggers, surprising both himself and you. he looks at his daughter with a frown, “how courageous of you, my dear daughter.”

“cry me a river; we agreed that we each get one hour with mom!” and there comes out the you in her. she smiles the moment you pat her head, signaling for her to go wait for you at the couch.

she bolts there and leaves you and your husband to be. fyodor finally stands up and looks at you with a barely visible pout that has increased in appearances since you gave birth to your dear daughter, “y/n.”

“yes, fedya?”

“our daughter kicked me in the shins.”

you raise an eyebrow, “and you didn’t guess she would?”

“of course, I did,” he looks at her, and somehow your husband who often is known for his intelligence seems like some jealous baby, “but I thought she wouldn’t do it in front of you, at least.”

“well, I didn’t see anything,” you sing and he smirks lightly.

“teaming up on me, are you?”

you shrug, “how can I ever?”

“what a cruel wife you are,” he mumbles right beside your ear and you merely roll your eyes.

NAKAHARA CHUUYA:

sometimes, you feel like you’re a rope being tugged between your son and husband. they are both equally possessive and both have quite the tempers and you have to act like the peace keeper most of the time.

today was no different; however, you have decided to simply watch from the sidelines this time.

“dad! I am gonna marry mom! don’t fight me about it!” your son says confidently.

your husband feels a vein pop, “you little— you can’t marry her! she’s already married to me!”

“no she isn’t!”

“yes she is!”

“what’s your proof?” your son says with a smirk that he definitely inherited from his father, but who’s counting.

your husband narrows his eyes at him and huffs and goes to your shared bedroom. your son giggles and runs towards you, “finally! mom, can I have a hug please?”

you open your arms and your son wastes no time jumping into your embrace making you smile and pat his back. you’re kind of surprised that chuuya didn’t fight back as hard today; maybe you guessed today’s outcome wrong—

you’re quickly proven to have indeed guessed it right as your chuuya appears in all his glory holding your wedding photo, the marriage certificate, and proudly showing off his ring.

your son’s eyes widen, “what is this?”

“the proof that me and y/n are married,” he replied smugly and you sigh.

“w-well, she doesn’t have the same ring as yours!” your son stammers and your husband simply smirks and points at your left hand.

you’ve never heard your son screech so loudly in all his 6 years of living as his eyes lay on your ring.

he jumps away from you, clutching his heart, “mom, what is the meaning of this?!”

“of what exactly?”

“YOU’RE MARRIED TO DAD??” he gasps and you chuckle lightly because if you were to roll your eyes then this house will be turned into ruins.

“honey, I had to marry dad so we can have you,” you smile and chuuya looks as offended as your son.

“HAD TO??”

you side-eye him and he quickly zips his mouth shut and looks away but not without grumbling a couple of curses.

“but that means that I can’t marry you cause you’re already married,” your son says defeatedly as he sits on the floor.

“EXACTLY SO LET US BE!” your husband shouts confidently.

tears well up in your son’s eyes and he bursts into a wail that has your house flooding in a couple of seconds.

you simply look at chuuya, “way to go my dear husband.”

KUNIKIDA DOPPO:

most of the time, your daughter was a daddy’s girl. she always listens to him and a grin is automatically plastered on her face once she sees him.

you can never blame her though cause you have the same reaction whenever you see your lovely husband.

your daughter turned out to be an exact copy of you and both of you share the insane amount of love you have for kunikida.

but there are times where your daughter just wants time with her mama not her dad.

for example, today, you and kunikida were cuddling in the bed, slowly drifting off to sleep. his arms are wrapped around you as he strokes your hair and you feel him press a kiss to your forehead making you nuzzle into his chest.

you feel him smile and you close your eyes to welcome sleep, but you hear a couple of knocks on the door.

your husband sighs softly before sitting up and putting his glasses on, “come in, d/n.”

she slowly opens the door and peaks in, “sorry pa.”

he adjusts his glasses and shakes his head with a smile, “it’s okay; did you have a nightmare?”

she nods softly and perks up at her dad patting the bed. she walks to you two and climbs up the bed, which is quite the travail for her.

most of the time, when she has a nightmare, she squeezes herself between you both to have ‘best of both worlds’ as you say.

so kunikida expects her to sleep between you both like usual, but instead she pushes him away, albeit gently, and sleeps right next you —where he once was— and cuddles close to you.

you pat her head and pull her closer with a smile.

you look up at your husband who had his spot taken from him and giggle at the sight of his small pout.

kunikida watches you guys cuddle and then decides to just lay back down and simply wrap his arms around both of you at the same time. he didn’t train all of that time for nothing.

your daughter whines jokingly, “paaa, I want to be with mom.”

he raises an eyebrow, “is that so?”

she nods and starts squealing and laughing when her father squeezes you guys in a tight hug. both your laughters fill the room and kunikida smiles before saying, “do you not want papa anymore?”

“no no! I want you; please mercy!” she pleads making both you and kunikida chuckle before he finally relaxes his hold and kisses both your and her cheek and the three of you finally succumb to sleep.

NIKOLAI GOGOL:

“quiz time! guess who had his share of y/n today?”

you deadpan, “kolya, I am not a pie.”

“well, you’re certainly as sweet as one,” your husband grins, but both you and your son just gag at the terrible pick up line.

you’ve long got used to his theatrics, after all. your son, though, calls bs on everything his dad does.

“not me,” your son replied with a grin and holds you tighter, sticking his tongue out at nikolai.

“AHAHA! you’re as funny as me, s/n,” nikolai cackles, and you’re sure he is keen on throwing your son off of you any time now.

“but dad, I can’t be funny as you,” your son says dejectedly and nikolai’s eyebrow rises.

“why is that?”

your son smiles, a closed eye smile, before replying, “you’re not funny at all; that’s an insult to me.”

nikolai doesn’t say anything as he pulls your screaming son off you, after quite the struggle.

he walks to the garden and throws him there, “go play with a frog or something; I will have y/n all to myself for the rest of the day. thank you!”

your husband smiles victoriously and is about to throw himself into your embrace until his son reappears right beside you and the boy has a frown that only means one thing.

chaos is about to ensue.

your son starts throwing a tantrum and yelling, “I WANT TO CUDDLE MOM!!”

“no can do, young man,” your husband says shaking his head, “you already got your fair share of mama per the agreement.”

“what agreement?” your son asks, tears still streaming down his face.

your husband puts his hand in his coat and gets out a contract.

the contract reads that your son will only have 2 hours of your attention and time while your husband gets the rest.

“b-but these types of papers need to have signatures of both sides!”

your husband giggles, “your signature is right here, my dear son.”

your son gasps but quickly composed himself.

“oh whatever shall you do now? I rightfully deserve all of y/n’s time—AHHHHH WHAT THE HELL?!”

you come back —after leaving to get yourself a cup of coffee cause this is way too much for you— and find that your son has effectively set the contract on fire.

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certifiedfreec · 1 month

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・❥・close - gojo satoru x f!reader (crossposted on ao3!) ・❥・

⊹ oh nooo you’re trapped in a hotel room with gojo… and there’s only one bed… ahhhhh

⊹ 18+, smut, frenemies to lovers, a ridiculous amount of banter

⊹ word count: 9.8k (i’m so normal about him lol…)

“Well fuck.”

Mouth agape, you stand tiredly beside your overly cheeky partner-in-exorcises, surveying the last available hotel suite that’s closest to your current assignment. Cramped could describe it if you’re feeling generous, as the sparse amenities make the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room look like a California King. The overblown stock photos of generic flowers hanging haphazardly above the bed are nearly mocking the otherwise drab room, and the dim lighting makes it all look more dingy than romantic given the scenario you’re in.

One bed left in this overbooked “hotel…” This has to be a fever dream.

“I call the left side!”

Said partner, Satoru Gojo, is oblivious to your inner turmoil as he languidly steps into the room with his singsong tone, surveying what little it has to offer with an otherwise calm expression. God, this guy gets on your nerves, but not for any pertinent or extravagant reason. Really, he just carries himself a little too cockily for your taste, like he’s used to people fawning over him for doing nothing. While you work well together for the most part, there’s something about his presence that just makes you-

“You can take the whole thing,” you grumble dismissively, carefully moving around him to set your backpack down on the warped work desk. You’d sooner sleep in the bathtub even if it was soaking wet, you think.

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets with how hard they roll when you hear him let out a feigned hum of disappointment. You can sense him studying your every move, even through that stupid blindfold thing he’s always got on.

“Bummer. You scared you’re gonna catch some cooties? I’m not contagious.” Gojo tuts playfully, shaking his black jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair. “Guess that means more room for me!” He wastes wastes no time in flopping onto the middle of the stiff mattress with a grin, and part of you can’t help but admire- no, simply notice, you tell yourself- how his shockingly white hair and pale skin contrasts the dull, dated comforter. He’s got a white button down on, and you’re tempted to call him a bloodsucking vampire with how translucent he looks. Humming to himself, he reaches for the remote that practically shrinks in his large hands, clicking the clunky TV on and watching it take a few minutes to whir to life.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself, but you’re determined to put some space between the two of you with whatever happens. It’s unfortunate when you realize that you really might not be successful with that endeavor, given your dwarfed hotel room that could trigger any sane person’s claustrophobia. It didn’t help that this guy already took up most of the lackluster room with just his body, either. Your eyes flicker over to your work partner, who appears unnervingly okay with this turn of events. With a deep sigh, you pull out the creaky chair and slump defeatedly onto the desk. You’re careful to scoot to the edge of the chair so your back doesn’t make contact with his resting jacket, and he doesn’t miss your obvious attempt at distance. It’s known by many that he’s always been a huge fan of himself, and you’d be damned if you ever let him think you were part of that club, too.

“Hey, careful with the outerwear.” Gojo’s selectively ignoring your clear discomfort, opting to poke at you anyway because he just does that. “That’s a pricey jacket, y’know.” His face is serene as he’s clicking through the available channels and making his own little noises when each show is less intriguing than the next.

“Right… I’ll try my best,” you reply disinterestedly with a yawn. You rest your face on the cool wood- anything to mentally take yourself out of the painfully tiny space you and this massive human were expected to share for the evening. It’s been a long day of mundane yet necessary work, and apparently the real work is supposed to happen tomorrow. Being instructed last minute to change your stopping point for the day, you were left with no choice but to call around in a new area until you found an option. Gojo simply shrugged and started searching, not even slightly irritated at the change of plans. It irks you how little your colleague is bothered by, well, anything, because it has to be disingenuous at some point, right? Over time you’ve realized that with him, it truly is a brazen confidence- a kind that you decided was more dangerous than reassuring in reference to your line of work. It’s just unnatural- then again, nothing in your field is, so what’s your real issue with him? The question always leaves you befuddled at your core, and now it’s glaring in your face with the close quarters you’re sharing.

After some time spent listening to Gojo’s disjointed chuckles at whatever was playing, you take out your phone to text Shoko about your dreaded situation. This’ll be a long night, you think, grasping at straws to reason that it’s only temporary and that the smell of his spicy cologne will soon fade away from your senses. You have to say though, the scent fits him pretty well…unlike this miniature room you’re both posted up in.

Your eyes betray you when they briefly flit over again at the man lounging across the bed. It’s quite the spectacle, as the ends of his gangly legs and feet are dangling awkwardly over the edge, yet his expression is serene. The word "cute" passes through your mind and you immediately shush it by reflex, but it’s not as strong as the newfound proximity that prompts you to finally tease him in a dry tone: “Jesus, you’re taking up the whole thing and it’s still not enough.”

“Tell me about it.” He’s quick to react to your statement, and you swear you see his broad chest huff with amusement out of your peripheral. “It must be the price to pay when you’re a dreamy, charming, six foot three Jujutsu Sorcerer,” he adds in a lighthearted tone that seeks feigned sympathy. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can guess that he’s batting the long white eyelashes that decorate his electric blue eyes. Meanwhile, you’re battling a smile.

Shoko’s not answering your SOS texts, so you actually decide to take the bait in the meantime. “You poor thing,” you coo halfheartedly, “It’s just never enough for you.” You shift, draping your arm over the back of the cheap desk chair that warps under your weight.

“You’re so right! I’m glad someone finally understands.” He points a finger at you, clearly pleased that you’re bantering along, and then he rests that same finger on his pointed chin. “Speaking of nothing ever being enough, I’m starving.” He suddenly sits up, making the bed creak with his movement. It’s apparent that his focus has shifted from the lifeless television show to you. “Who delivers around here?”

Gojo’s nonchalant behavior has the opposite effect on you- it’s disconcerting. At the same time, a very quiet part of you wants to warm up to the idea of finding it endearing. Being annoyed by him was all you knew- how could you ever change now?

The noise that escapes him is pure juvenile glee when you wordlessly open up a delivery app on your phone and sling the device over to him, which he catches with ease before scavenging through the limited number of nearby restaurants. If anything, you’ve never seen him so locked in. You hear him murmur his commentary to himself as he swipes through, picking out his order from his spot on the bed (which is basically the whole thing), and then he abruptly stands up with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Without watching him, you hear his steps move somewhere behind your seat.

“Hey, your girlfriend Shoko is texting you. I had no idea I was such a hot subject! Well, maybe I did.”

Oh shit. The heart that previously resided in your chest has plummeted to your stomach. You completely forgot you’d been virtually begging her for moral support when you first arrived at your shoebox of a room.

You muster all your inner strength to maintain a semblance of cool. “Is she on her way to save me?”

The grin on his face is nearly glowing as he reads your screen. “Hah, you wish. It says, and I quote, ’Sorry I’m just now seeing these! How are you and your “Honored One” doing? I promise he’s not as bad as you think he is, LOL.’”

You can feel all the blood in your body rush to your face as Gojo continues to read the message, who is doing everything to refrain from bursting into a fit of laughter. “’At least he’s not the worst looking, and you guys are gonna have to share a bed anyway. Wink emoji, wink emoji.’”

Your world comes screeching to an ugly halt. In this moment, you remind yourself to never text Shoko while you’re in the same room as him- ever again.

“Oh my god… You’re lying. Stop it!” You feel a wave of sickeningly nervous giggles threaten to rack through your body as you fly out of your rickety seat, marching over to the lanky sorcerer and swiping at him for your phone. He tsks, holding the device up from your reach with a mischievous tilt of his head, and you’re sure that you’ve never been this flushed with humiliation before. His muscled arm holds your phone up revealing the chat, and unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. And his voice? It’s smug, obnoxiously so as he taunts you. “This is so much more interesting than ordering food right now. I think I’m gonna answer her. What should I say?”

“Give it back, Satoru Gojo.” You glower up at him, silently knowing your efforts are futile due to your drastic height difference- and that goddamn Infinity ability of his that he loved to show off.

“Oooh, don’t say my full name. It really scares me,” Gojo gasps mockingly before making a show of squinting up at the screen and beginning to type with his other hand. “Let’s try this.” His fingers begin to dance across the screen. “’Shoko, I think I might be falling for Satoru Gojo, all six foot three of him. We’ve had such a romantic evening-‘"

“Jesus Christ, hand it over already!” You’re reaching your limit with tolerating his antics, body teeming in some liminal space between annoyance and mortification. You stretch up again to try and pluck the phone only to make contact with nothing. Fucking showoff. He’s still got his blindfold on, and you’re unable to see how his eyes are completely shimmering with mirth and self-satisfaction.

“Aaand, sent! I think she’ll like that. Anyway, go ahead and add your order to the cart. It’s on me- I remembered to bring the JuJutsu High credit card this time!” Gojo carries on casually like he hasn’t just done the equivalent of planting an explosive in your text messages, feeling incredibly proud of himself as he plops the phone back into your open palm. Glaring up at him and his resilient grin, you are entirely uninterested in eating any kind of food right now. He thinks it’s kind of cute how quickly your face turns ruby red.

You stare at your violated device, blinking in disbelief before looking back up at him. “You’re a real motherfucker, you know that?” You challenge, though your voice isn’t as hostile as it should be.

His large hands fly up defensively. “Whoa, who says I don’t go for daughters either?”

He’s maddening. How do his students stand him? Your free palm has never moved so fast to your face. Resolving into your clunky self-assigned seat, your butt collides firmly with cold wood. “You’re right. Who don’t you go for?” You huff.

Gojo chuckles with his whole chest as he moves to sprawl out over the miniature bed, returning to the original position he was in before he hijacked your text conversation. With blindfolded eyes focused back on the hazy television screen, his hands lock behind his head as he shrugs indifferently. “Never been a big fan of Geminis, to be honest.”

Unreal. He could talk to you in circles like this forever, and only because he knows he gets under your skin that way. You resign, eyeing your phone screen and scrolling through the restaurant he picked to order delivery from. He’s got quite the spread in the cart, complete with an elaborate dessert that could’ve wiped out your savings account.

“Clearly a fan of cheesecake though, holy shit.” The jab doesn’t come out as mean as you intend it to, and honestly, you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be capable of treating him with this much animosity. You’re already tired, and if you were any more awake you’d realize that your work partner was slowly wearing your guard down, quip by cocky quip.

“Right again. Don’t you just love getting to know me through our intimate time together?”

Shoko is spamming you with an endless barrage of confused and shocked emojis, and you’re far too sleep-deprived to reply. Your entire body flushes at his words as they reverberate in your mind. Intimate is not the right word. No, it shouldn’t be, more like invasive. Right?

“Couldn’t be happier,” you reply curtly, mindlessly picking out whichever menu items are at the top before punching in the room number and credit card info, which was smoothly slid onto the table by Gojo without your prior notice. With your back to him, his gratification is on full display as he pretends to watch whatever crappy show is playing. Winning is his favorite thing in the world, and grating on your nerves is a close second- though really, the two coincide. Part of him wonders how much further he can blur that line.

——————————————————————————————————-

The comically large bag of food is immediately torn open by an eager Gojo the second it lands on the hotel room’s table, and he’s forking together a messy array of sides onto his plate before dragging over a lounge chair from the corner next to yours. He’s sitting far too close for your comfort, but you begrudgingly comply. It wasn’t like he was going to go away anytime soon, even though the night would be so much easier that way. As he shovels his dinner into his mouth, your mind aimlessly ventures as to how he keeps his form so trim with an appetite like that. He’s got to have a strict workout regimen somewhere, though “strict” is a word not often associated with him-

“Hey, your food’s gonna get cold if you keep staring like that.”

Your eyes widen in record time. It’s a hideous realization that you’ve zoned out on watching the renowned sorcerer-turned-temporary-roommate inhale his overpriced dinner, all from being overcome with either exhaustion or acceptance of your cramped situation. At this point, it’s maybe a little of both.

“Sorry,” you mumble, not even caring to articulate a more acidic response. It seems you’re beginning to neutralize into Gojo’s presence, and he mentally takes note of your changing chemistry with him as you quietly stab at your steak bites.

He’s got the perfect opportunity to coo something vain back, like “Don’t apologize, I’d stare too if it were me,” but he doesn’t. He simply keeps eating, sparing you with a less than uncomfortable silence. It’s never been the worst thing between you two given your extensive work history, and you feel yourself soften slightly when the bland hotel room’s air isn’t filled with his assumptive commentary for once. As your plates both get emptier, he feels this sudden need to hold your attention, as you’re less likely to be as combative as you’ve been before. You’re... not so set on hating him.

“You tired?”

Gojo’s two-worded inquiry jars you, almost to the point of choking on your bread. It's something genuine. He closes up one of the empty to-go boxes and shoves it into the takeout bag before pulling out the monstrosity that is his slice of cheesecake. For some reason your heart stammers at how refreshing the possibility of a real conversation with him could actually be.

You’ve got the perfect opportunity to snap something defensive back, like “Yeah, of you,” but you don’t. His shiny eyes shift under the fabric of his blindfold to you, almost prompting you to answer.

“…Yeah, I must be making it pretty obvious,” you say, unintentionally yawning and proving his point. If you were any more relaxed with him, he would’ve told you how cute you looked doing that. You secure your leftovers and start to chuck them into the bag before a large hand suddenly stops you with a “gimme” motion.

“Judging by how easily you’re willing to waste that perfectly good food…it’s not hard to tell,” he prods at you with a grin that you would’ve unnerved you earlier, but at this hour it’s a little more welcoming. Is that a snicker that comes out of you? You hand over the half-eaten order of steak bites to his jubilation, and he’s already popping open the lid to pick one up with his fingers.

Curse your brain in its exhausted state, because it’s nearly hypnotized by his digits. They’re long, dextile, confident somehow. They’re slender and defined, yet capable of serious damage- this you know all too well, and that excites you more than it should. The slice of meat dwarfs in his hold, its shiny reddish myoglobin starting to trickle down his hand and wrist, and it decorates his fine veins and tendons there with its sheen…

No, there’s no way you’re jealous of a piece of meat right now. Did you seriously feel a flutter somewhere that you shouldn’t? Satoru Gojo is literally eating your leftovers with his bare, grubby hands, and you’ve made the fatal error of finding it attractive. Yeah, you’re definitely sleeping in the bathtub tonight before your conflicted mind wanders any further.

He munches on the remainder of your dinner before finally digging into the cheesecake, and you feel blessed for the distraction from your shifting thoughts when you two chat about the mission at hand tomorrow. Is he worried about the curses you’ll be dealing with? No, of course not. According to him, he’s only worried about messing up his hair. Oh, and that expensive jacket you were careful not to touch earlier. With that all that added up, maybe he is nervous about it.

When the conversation dies down, the only sound in the unimpressive hotel room is the game show now playing on the practically vintage television. You quietly scroll your phone while your colleague digs into the soft dessert, stopping suddenly to stick his fork out to you.

“Want a bite? And before you say no, I already told you my cooties aren’t contagious.”

Is this real kindness? You whip your head to face him, studying the glob of caramel-drizzled sweetness, and he’s waving the fork around like a magic wand complete with some convincing “whoosh” sound effects. It’s even more comical with the way he fills his seat, almost like he’s sitting in a doll’s chair. The sight beside you makes you stifle a laugh, and in that moment you realize something: while he constantly irritates you, Satoru Gojo is the brightest, liveliest thing in that damn room. It’s not saying much given the plain wallpaper, dull sheets, and dusty furniture, but it all amounts to him looking pretty good despite your surroundings. If you weren’t sober right now, you’d admit that he looks pretty good just about anywhere. He’s so unfitting, literally, in the drab, cramped space that you almost want to let that very laugh out.

“Eh…I don’t believe you, but even if they weren’t... I couldn’t avoid them in this room anyway,” you joke sleepily, reaching for the fork and pushing the bite of cheesecake past your lips. He’s sitting pretty close, near enough that his spicy cologne still dances in your senses, but if he were any closer you’d swear you could spot him watching how your lips attached so tightly around the plastic silverware. You’re trying desperately to avoid the fact that sharing the fork was like indirectly kissing him, because if you think about it long enough it’ll make you blush all over again. So much for keeping a distance between you two.

You realize something else: he might’ve had a point with his dessert selection. “That is pretty good,” you commentate, handing him back the fork. There’s almost a soft expression on his blindfolded face when he wordlessly pushes the rest of the heaping slice between the two of you, as if the sugary dessert could substitute for a peace treaty. This is how all truces should go, you silently decide.

“Here, have some more in case you die tomorrow,” Gojo tuts with a grin, knowing fully well that you’d be perfectly fine during your assignment the next day. He loves to poke at you, but he can also recognize all the hard work you do. Hell, putting up with him was a full-time job, he could admit.

Your mouth flies open to let out a lighthearted “You asshole,” and you reflexively move to smack his shoulder. You’re even more shocked when your palm actually makes contact with the muscle there..as is he.

Gojo had turned his Infinity off. He must’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to break down your guard this evening that he neglected to remember his own.

“No way, I actually landed a hit on the Satoru Gojo,” you beam. Triumphantly taking another bite of the cheesecake, you feel his gaze train on you. His face-chiseled, you have to say- is conveying something unidentifiable. There’s some surprise and some amusement, but there’s another emotion lingering in the slight rise of his light eyebrows and his relaxed jaw. Something deeper, almost longing. It honestly concerns you for a moment, but he’s quick to recover by slumping backward over the chair, clutching a hand where yours landed just seconds before.

“Abuse! How dare you!” He declares, gripping his shoulder in the throes of his dramatics. “Yaga will be hearing about this. I’m reporting you to the higher-ups!”

“Don’t even. I’ll tell them you sabotaged my technology then,” you counter, waving your phone. “Oh, and that you misused company funds.” You point accusingly at the heap of cheesecake between you both. “And then we’ll both get fired.”

His fists hit the table as he falls forward dramatically. “Ugh…But then we’d end up living here,” he sighs woefully, “and that would be the worst part of all.”

You openly crack up at his refreshing honesty, finally recognizing this room for the shithole that it is, and you feel a newfound warmth spread throughout your chest. “Hmmm… But then we could keep ordering this cheesecake.” Maybe you like bantering with him, you decide.

Gojo chuckles as he stands up from his seat, dragging it back to where it resided in the corner and going along with your bit. “Not if we can’t ‘misuse our funds,’ you tattletale. We better start thinking of a side hustle to keep our lifestyle going.”

There’s a certain weight to “we”s and “our”s that make your heart palpitate just the slightest. It’s like a promise of a future together, a future beyond the uninspiring walls you were forced to rest in tonight. Still in your fit of tired giggles, you close up the remainder of the dessert before sticking it in the hotel room’s loud, antiquated mini fridge. The change of pace between you both is almost freeing, allowing you to consider the idea of actually sleeping somewhat soundly tonight.

“Well, you ponder on that. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You’re quick to tuck into the bathroom as your laughter dies down, taking your bag with you to switch into the pajamas you packed. All the while, you’re secretly wondering what the sleeping situation is going to look like. You know you’re desperate for rest and given how the evening between you two has warmed a little, the idea of sharing the tiny bed with Gojo is…less than awful to you now. You step out, only to gasp when said man is right outside the door. He’s leaning against the frame with his own bag slung over his shoulder, grinning wickedly and looking all too smug

“My turn, princess. Coming through!”

The novel nickname flutters through your system as he squeezes past you, closing the door in your face with another low chuckle. God, he’s an idiot, you think with a smile, opting to perch in the seat he used for dinner until he returns to the room.

You’re playing a mindless game on your phone when you hear the bathroom door squeak closed, and Gojo plops back into the stiff bed. There’s no shirt on his sculpted body, only a baggy pair of black pajama pants whose waistband barely kisses his narrow hips. Humbled is an understatement when you try not to ogle at the sorcerer before you, whose murder you were secretly plotting just hours before. The skin on your face is akin to the Sun’s surface as you summon every ounce of will not to stare, but his Six Eyes promptly detects the sheepish change in your demeanor.

“So, you sharing this thing with me or what?” He looks over at you in the chair as he stretches over the traverse of the mattress, head propped on one hand while the other toys with his blindfold. “Since you don’t seem to care about my cooties anymore.” The repeated movement of those long, deft fingers looping around the fabric is enough to conjure a flashback to him eating those damn steak bites, and you feel hot all over again. It shouldn’t be suggestive, it really shouldn’t, but the way he’s talking makes it seem like he wants you beside him.

You rest your chin in your hand as you reply with a frown, pretending to think, “Hmmm. That’s gonna be a tight fit.” He snorts in response, something devious but expected on the tip of his tongue, and you realize it as soon as you answer. “Don’t even say it, Gojo.”

He feigns surprise, scooting over and patting the pillow beside him. “Pffft. When have I been known to say anything out of pocket?” He can’t deny the thought of fitting tightly somewhere else, his aqua eyes flashing with a desire he’s never allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Listen princess, you’ve only got two choices for tonight, so pick wisely. There’s somewhere tight-“ he pats the pillow again, -“or somewhere wet.” The thumb previously tugging on the fabric around his eyes jabs toward the bathroom door.

There’s that nickname again. “How erotic,” you snicker, wordlessly complying and letting your exhaustion guide the way to the empty side of the bed. It’s not a ton of space, but you’ll do your best to make it work. Carefully, you slide in to avoid touching him, realizing just how difficult that task is going to be in your limited amount of territory. Should you make a pillow border between you two? No, because then that would take up even more precious space. Maybe if you bunched up some of your blanket-

“Alright! Wait till Shoko hears about this!”

Gojo visibly approves of your choice as he watches you timidly sidle in next to him, wearing that stupidly eager grin on his face and whooping like a sports game attendee. Shooting him a playful glare and an “Oh, enough with you, Six Eyes,” you feel the cool sheets hit your skin, and your body erupts in goosebumps through your thin-ish shirt and shorts. You quickly face the opposite way as him, but not before stealing another glance at his ridiculously toned chest and stomach as he reaches to turn the bedside lamp off. God, he smells so good, like minty toothpaste and his cologne. Darkness abruptly envelops you as your heart pounds, and you have a horrible thought: Who said I wouldn’t be wet sleeping here?

You hear Gojo release a barely audible sigh, almost as if he’s tentative to fall asleep beside you too. He’s not sure who to trust less, you or himself, but he hides his apprehension with a couple more quips as you settle into the compact mattress.

“You have any idea how many people would pay to be where you are right now? You are so lucky.”

He could talk in circles with you again for hours if it meant prolonging the inevitable vulnerability that is unconsciousness beside another person- though a deeper part of him reasons there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe there are other things you could do instead of talk, he thinks, doing little to shake the idea away. It’s kind of nice, way more than nice, the image of you all spread out below him-

The eye roll you respond with is felt by him but not seen in the lightless room. Clouded by an atypical hunger and pure fatigue, you murmur back, “Don’t worry, I tip well,” and a smug smile forms on your face. It’s kind of fun getting to poke back at him. That’s all it is, right? Harmless banter. Gojo senses your intentions on a level unbeknownst to you, though- and he’s not entirely upset at them.

“Listen to you! That was smooth. I just might give you a discount for that.” You hear the sheets rustle beside you, and you slowly turn. He’s fully facing you, boyishly propping his head up on his fist with his near-glowing eyes now exposed. You notice that his blindfold has now been placed neatly on the outdated nightstand. He’s keenly tuned in on you, finding your pajamas a little too cute for a pre-mission night of sleep. It’s clearly getting more difficult for him to deny how entertained he is by the sight of you all snuggled in on your diminutive side of the crappy hotel bed.

You pretend to cover your eyes after seeing his finally revealed to you, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself for matching his energy now. “Put those LEDs away, good lord,” you joke, allowing yourself to let out a sleepy laugh as you pull up the covers to give your bumpy skin some salvation. His intentful gaze is already doing plenty to send heat throughout your limbs though, and the act of grabbing the blanket is an effort in vain. As your eyelids flutter with the weight of tiredness, you understand just how close you two are in the moment. Mentally, you were so much farther away earlier in the evening than you are now- and it takes a second for you to process that you actually like the change.

Gojo laughs softly, and you can hear the late hour begin to seep into his tone. It grows more throaty, lower than before, and it’s entirely too pleasant. Part of you wonders if he’d consider the proposition of reading you a bedtime story. There’s a lingering tension in the air, nearly tangible, and it shifts when you note how his eyes flicker all over your face. Eyes, lips, back to eyes, back to lips.

“Maybe I wanna look at you a little longer. Are you gonna report me to the higher-ups for that, too?” Gojo bats his icy white lashes, his oaky scent further settling into the sheets. The only light in the shoddy room comes from his vibrant irises, and they’re spotlighting on you with piqued interest. The light has always come from him, and it’s an epiphany that has you scooting an inch closer.

“If those things blind me, I will.” You exhale through your nose, partially wishing you could reach out to the heat that radiates off his halfway bare body.

He blinks, and you swear the room flashes dark again for that split second. “Well, y’know, that might be a good thing,” he tries to reason lightheartedly, in a volume just above a whisper. “You wouldn’t have to look at this ugly room anymore.” You watch his hand- the same one you nearly salivated over earlier- land in the limited space between you two, almost as if it wants to cross that border. It takes the most willpower you’ve ever needed not to stare at it, feeling your face flush with a sick anticipation. “I’d be saving you.” Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted to do all along, you both think, and it encourages you to be just as coy back.

In this moment, you feel bold enough to say something you thought would never leave your mouth: “But then I wouldn’t get to look at all six foot three of you.” You pout sarcastically, and Gojo gets the urge to kiss it right off your face. His grin is proud; it’s everything he never knew he wanted to hear.

Your teasing is like a silent permission for his hand to move closer to you, and your entire body stills when you feel it land gently on your lower thigh to play with the frilled hem of your shorts. Must be a pattern of his, you realize. He chuckles, and the sound is so low that you can practically feel it.

“Hmm… You’re right. Again.” Your work partner’s head tilts down slightly at you, and his expression is overcome with what can only be described as relief. “Guess I need to save you some other way.” He notices the goosebumps adorning your figure, and suddenly you’re pressed up against his broad chest. God, he’s so warm, you don’t even realize the way you’re curling right up into him. Somehow, despite your height difference, you fit perfectly along his lanky frame.

“Better?”

You are tired, fatigued beyond belief, but you’d be stupid not to stay awake to experience Satoru Gojo letting his guard down for you. Perhaps this dismal hotel room was a test of will for you two, and while you’re not entirely sure what denotes passing or failing, you do know one thing: Satoru Gojo is unbelievably comfortable to cuddle with.

Still…you wonder what would unfold if you pushed further.

“Hmmm… still not warm enough.” The words leave you before you can tame them, and the unspoken invitation behind them makes his eyebrows raise. The hand playing with the fabric of your shorts squeezes into your skin just the slightest, prompting you to look up at him where you see no reserves on his handsome (God, it’s good to admit that) face. His soft pink lips hover inches from your own, drawing closer like magnets.

“Really.” You feel a thumb rub slow circles along your outer thigh. “I can fix that for you, yeah?” His words shoot straight to your core as his head ducks a little lower, just breaths away from yours.

Well, you’re definitely not tired anymore.

“If you’re still offering that discount…” you breathe out. A rush of smugness allows you to bring your hands to his toned chest, traveling up to trace his defined collarbone. His skin is soft, almost velvety, most likely from years of keeping his perimeter so trained to avoid any unnecessary contact, and the act of smoothing your fingers over it becomes soothing.

Gojo’s lopsided grin conveys the desire he’s suppressed for so long, seemingly caught up in this new dynamic with you. “Nah, we’ll put it on the credit card,” he finally laughs before confidently pressing his lips to yours.

He is an entirely new taste, and you’re not able to reference his movements to anything or anyone; it’s another level of tact and precision. Did he plan this? His kisses are the perfect mix of messy and firm, and it’s clear he’s doing all but holding back. Something unlocks as he goes through the motions, maybe the realization of the snapped tension or maybe the feeling of you kissing back just as passionately, and his mouth soon scatters everywhere from your lips to your jaw to your neck in a flurry of teeth and tongue. He’s somehow magically in tune with your most sensitive areas of the exposed skin as his lips wander, leaving you to grab his firm bicep and cling as if he’s grounding you to the earth. The details of the dingy hotel room are completely abandoned as you feel your senses envelop, finally, with all that is Satoru Gojo, and there was truly no beauty greater than that.

Chest heaving, you almost let out a laugh at how rapidly the night has shifted. His well-trained hands travel, one squeezing the tissue of your breast over your thin shirt while the other dances just below the leg of your shorts. With all walls down, it’s pointless to hide the effect his touch has on you. If his hand moved any higher, he’d discover how wet you were- part of you dreaded how inflated his ego would become after that, but the other, hungrier part of you needed him to do it.

“Anyone ever told you-“ Gojo breathes out between his attack, brushing a thumb over your hardened nipple, “how pretty you are?” He is all too focused on drinking in your features, finding your weakest and favorite points. Your back arches ridiculously easily into his touch as you struggle to find the words to answer him.

“N-no one else that’s mattered.”

You’re sure his ego will balloon rapidly upon that little admission, but you partly didn’t care- not when he was capable of making you feel so unbelievably good.

He’s rightfully amused at how blatant your desire is now. “Oh? So I do matter to you then.” His other hand roams up your thigh, threatening to reach where you wanted it most. You snicker before a shudder erupts from you when a long, hot stripe is licked down your neck and over your shoulder, and it’s all you need to swing your leg over his, straddling him on the stiff, narrow mattress. The flex of his abs as he sits up to accommodate you is nothing short of poetic, and you find more prose in the clouded, desperate fog of his azure eyes when he watches you with curiosity. He immediately rests his grip on your waist, pressing you down gently onto what can only be described as a monster underneath his sweats. You understand now why he carries himself the way that he does: He’s fucking huge.

You push your chest against his, unable to stop the twitch of your hips when you feel Gojo’s hardness brush against your heat. The wetness of your arousal is sure to be felt through the fabric, and he’d be silly to halt your admittedly cute display of attempts in chasing just an ounce of pleasure. Your flushed face, furrowed eyebrows, small noises, it’s motion picture to him. However, he selfishly wants to be that pleasure for you, and he’s quick to slide a hand down your body to cup your pussy through your pajamas.

Your jaw goes slack as Gojo’s hand makes contact with your most sensitive area over your shorts, and the circles he rubs help him collect some of the condensation from the fabric. It feels good, but not good enough, and you can’t help but huff at the restricted movement. He is all too cocky when his hand pulls away, eyeing it with an intense mirth.

“Damn, waterworks, you always get this wet?” He’s half-amazed and half-amused as he studies his glistening fingers, his other hand gripping at your ass. “That’s so hot.”

“Shut up, Satoru.” You smack his bare shoulder before burying your face into it, feeling your cheeks turn crimson. He chuckles, finding you adorable when you’re embarrassed yet hating that you feel that way. He knows just how to help you get over that, and he starts by slowly sliding his body down, holding your thighs spread as he maneuvers his head onto the flat-ish pillow. You glare down confusedly at him in his newfound position, only to meet with eager cerulean eyes that are practically begging to pull you closer.

“Fine then, I’ve got other stuff I wanna do with my mouth anyway,” you hear him murmur from between your thighs, and his hand brushes over your clothed, throbbing cunt again. “Now sit, princess.”

“Huh? No, you won’t be able to breathe, I can’t.” Your head shakes vigorously in disapproval. Not that you didn’t want them there, but there was no way… you’d probably end up suffocating the guy, and while you had a more murderous urge to do that earlier this evening you’d much rather-

“Fine with me, now lemme taste you,” Gojo insists with almost a whine in his tone, not letting you respond before pulling the soaked crotch of your shorts to the side and licking a long, forceful line from your hole to your clit. You moan when he does it again, and again, feeling your knees weaken to finally sink yourself onto his mouth. The groan that vibrates against your nerve endings makes you look down, only to see his frosty white lashes flutter as you fill his senses. This was well worth the hours of wearing down your resolve this evening.

His movements become frantic, desperate to experience you now that he’s let his guard down this long with no dire consequences. You feel his tongue lap at your sensitive clit, and his lips kiss in your heat so loudly and wetly that it sounds like a porn scene. Your hands fly to his ivory hair, gripping till his scalp stings. This makes him groan again, and you can barely control the way your hips start to rock along his mouth.

Gojo breaks away for a split second, tongue dragging along your inner thigh with his cock nearly in pain because of he’s got you where he wants you. “Just like that, baby, ride my face,” he huffs quickly before returning to flattening his tongue along your clit. You feel him squeeze the cheeks of your ass, forcing you onto the hot muscle and encouraging you to continue.

He seems to be breathing just fine, you realize- which of course he is, he’s Satoru fucking Gojo- he could handle just about anything. It gives you the confidence to rut your hips forward, moaning louder when his lips wrap around your overstimulated nerve and suck hard. You earn a playful smack on your ass when his name slips out of your mouth, and the stinging sends you further into your frenzy for pleasure as you start to build up a pace. It’s addicting, really, the way he’s lapping and sucking at your aching cunt like it’s his favorite dessert, and you’re suddenly thankful that he has the appetite that he does. He breaks away for a second to spit into your heat, spreading your slick folds wide with those deft fingers of his, and that only has you rocking harder along his mouth when he reattaches himself. To him, you are so much better than any sweet he’s had.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but you’re tugging Gojo’s snowy tresses in shallow efforts to further bury his face in your cunt as you ride it, and he’s all too happy that you’re using him in this way. As his tongue prods up into your tight entrance, he feels his cock throb again at the prospect of how it would feel inside of you. He groans at the thought, and you feel it all the way up in your ribcage. He’s already picked up on the fact that you’re close, judging by how your frantic movements have sped up and the way you’re babbling incoherent praises that only make him ache more.

“Fuck, Satoru, feels so- good- please…”

When Gojo lets out a little laugh at that, you feel your slick dribble messily down your thighs. That hot, blinding pressure grows stronger under your navel when you grind harder on his tongue, threatening to spill over when he starts to flick it along your clit to match your pace. It all feels so deliciously good that you pay no mind to his nails digging into your flesh, his own way of ensuring he’s leaving a mark- as if he hasn’t decorated your neck in shades of blotchy fuchsia already.

“I’m-so-close….”

He gives your ass another smack with your breathy cry, looking up at you with eyes that nearly beam. You look down while your hips continue to drag along his tongue, finding him just so damn pretty while he’s eating you so good, and you ease your fingers in his hair. That impending sensation grows stronger, and he quickly parts from your lips to murmur confidently:

“I know, princess, I got you. Lemme have it.”

His choice of words and the way he immediately goes back to lapping at your heat are both more than enough to have you coming apart around his tongue in mere seconds. There is nothing in your mind’s eye but Gojo as your high overtakes you, fizzling through your being and prompting you to cry out his name as if it’s a chant. He soaks it all in, helping you ride out your release before slowing to kiss his way back up your body. You’ve never come that hard- and somehow, he senses this too. Your legs feel like jelly when he’s finally face-to-face with you, and his is glistening with your arousal. If he wasn’t desperate to be inside of you right now he could do that for hours, he thinks.

You lean in, capturing your lips with Gojo’s and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. Your own taste on your lips does little to dissuade you from him, and for the next few moments, you both feverishly rip off whatever clothing is still unfortunately on your bodies. He, as gracefully as he can given the annoyingly small hotel bed, maneuvers you onto the pillow so you’re lying on your back, and you feel his heavy cock hit your stomach. He pauses for a second to study your features, finding that every inch of you is worth burning to memory. You’re stunning like this, all sticky and flushed and needy, and it’s all because of his efforts. He’s only more gratified when your mouth flies open at his impressive size.

“You're kidding. That's not gonna fit,” You sputter, still in your post-orgasm daze, but you feel your hole clench around nothing when you notice the filmy drops of pre beading around his thick tip.

His laugh is genuine, almost melodic as he pumps himself a few times. “Such a downer. We’ll make it fit, ‘kay?” Gojo promises with a goofy grin, letting his hand wander along your bare nipples and stomach before eventually revisiting your now sore cunt. You hiss in delight when he slides one of his long fingers in, and your legs spread automatically at the intrusion. Even in the most cramped bed ever, you’d realize you’d make room for him anywhere. You reach out, dragging your hand along his chiseled stomach, nearly in awe at how firm the muscles are there. He’s like if art was living, breathing, unrestricted from a canvas or frame.

Your hand slides further, silently encouraging his own to move so you can take over stroking his hardened cock as his finger curls along your hot walls. You moan quietly, watching his breath hitch in his broad chest- he’s not sure whether to watch your face or your movements, and there’s an eagerness within him that amplifies when he sees how tightly you’re sucking in just a digit of his. His hips jut forward slightly when your thumb brushes his sensitive tip, and he finally decides to look into your eyes. You stare back, wanting to say so much about how his are the perfect shade of blue.

“Y’know why I harass you so much?” He asks in a tone that reaches a new level of softness for him, and you entertain his question as he slowly introduces a second finger. The stretch is delicious, though you think it’s doing little to prep for the monstrosity that awaits you.

“‘Cause you’re Satoru Gojo?” You reply before letting out a hiss at a particularly sensitive spot he hits within you.

He snorts. “Well, yeah, and ‘cause I think you’re pretty. Inside and out. Gorgeous, actually.”

You blush a little at how he turns a silly banter into a very real confession, and you watch his eyelids flutter again. Actually, you feel kind of bad for being so lighthearted while he was being serious- that was his thing, anyway. Times like these were what made his bluntness endearing, and he continues, beginning to align his length with your dripping entrance after slowly removing his fingers.

“So, lemme prove it.”

Feeling all kinds of giddy you nod, angling your thighs so his hips can fit between them. His spongy tip drags through your slick folds, and it’s the most you’ve ever felt another person focus so directly on you. You look up at him, bringing your hands up his stomach and to his defined shoulders as his tip sinks into you just the slightest.

“Well, you’re pretty too, like otherworldly handsome,” you admit back with a timid smile, clearly trying to regain your breath. “Just couldn’t tell you ‘cause you were too busy harassing me.” You exhale when he submerges himself a little more, and he smiles back with his pearly white teeth. “You’re fucking huge, too… oh my god…” you add, moaning a little at how his cock feels nothing like his fingers. You hate to admit it, but it’s clear he’s set to wreck you.

“Naturally.” He’s using every ounce of strength to control himself from pounding into you, responding to your praise and your criticism all at once. Gojo slowly and gently pushes in until his hips are flush with yours, and it feels as if he’s tearing you from the inside. Your face is scrunched at the intrusion, and he has to cover his own mouth to stop a moan at how tight you feel. There’s no other convincing needed by him that your pussy was practically made for him, he thinks, and he studies your features for any indication of stopping.

“Look at you,” he coos, nearly mesmerized by how your cunt has already swallowed him whole. His hand slides down his face to tweak at one of your hardened nipples. “And you said I wouldn’t fit. Takin’ it like a pro, princess.” His lighthearted motivation makes you snicker a little, and it eases some of the stinging from the stretch he’s causing. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head when your hot walls grip around him. It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, and when finally you do, you give him the silent go-ahead by softening your expression. His grin could blind a room full of people when he thrusts deeper, not only reaching that same sensitive spot but finding another, and it makes your head loll back to the pillow.

That reminds him. He pauses for a second to slide one of the cheap hotel pillows under your tailbone, and suddenly his cock feels like it’s colliding with your guts when he continues his movements. Your mouth couldn’t fall any more open as he starts to establish a pace, filling you so masterfully yet harshly with every stroke.

“Sa-to-ru…” you pant, digging your nails into Gojo’s sculpted back, and this only motivates him more. You have a realization that could either be horrible or amazing: How could you ever fuck anyone else again? Again and again he’s thrusting into that magical spot till the sounds of your wetness fill the otherwise lackluster room, spoiling you for any other and reassuring you that yes, he really is the strongest. Part of him knows how skilled he is, and he has to refrain from laughing- no one would ever be enough once he was done with you. Then again, he never wants to be done with you.

You feel his tactful hands roam your body aimlessly, a visible sign of his enrapture with how you receive him. He wants to focus on watching his cock slam into your cunt over and over, but he also wants to watch your face as you writhe and cry out his name- he’s clearly conflicted.

The little breathy noises slipping out of him aren’t helping your cause, and the way he abruptly throws one of your legs over his broad shoulder doesn’t either. He’s now rutting into your tight heat relentlessly, a stark contrast from how delicately he’s kissing up the thigh that’s pressed into his chest.

“Your pussy is...perfect,” you hear Gojo groan, drawing the words out, and his kisses along your thigh become animalistic as they turn into bites. You whimper, back arching with all the sensations filling your system, and that heady feeling in your tummy begins to strengthen again. “Wanna-fuck you- forever…”

“Please,” you agree as your ability to form sentences leaves you. “Don’t ever- stop…”

In a perfect world, he wouldn’t. As one hand holds your thigh to his chest and the other travels to your overstimulated clit, his shiny blue eyes watch your contorting face, smiling proudly when you moan at how his fingers rub tight circles along your nerves. He can feel his release approaching alongside yours, and your slick walls flutter around his cock as he pummels into you.

“Want another one, princess,” Gojo pants, making your skin smack against his as your orgasm builds up in your tummy. “Go on, come on- my cock…”

His wish is your command. You quickly lean forward, mashing your lips with his when the pleasure fizzles out of you all over again. You feel the tips of your toes burn at how powerfully your release hits you, wracking your body with an almost overwhelming amount of pleasure. You’re reduced to a heaving, shaking mess, convulsing around his length and left only able to babble his name against his mouth in your state of bliss. His hand cradles the back of your head as he fucks you through the aftershock and kisses you roughly, only to follow close behind just moments later. His movements falter before your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as you feel yourself start to fill with his thick seed.

Holy shit. Who would’ve guessed that this was how your evening would turn out? Just mere hours ago you wanted to claw at his throat, and instead you clawed at his back because of how good he was dicking you down. Your mind swims as Gojo slowly withdraws, slipping out of your sore cunt to collapse beside you in what little space the hotel bed offered. He’s even gorgeous like this, maybe more than ever actually. You’re observing how his ivory hair sticks to his forehead and his back glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat from his efforts, the muscles there decorated with thin red indents from your nails. It’s a sight worth recreating an infinite number of times.

Not having him envelop all your senses anymore forces you back into reality, where a mission lies just hours ahead of you and your shared hotel room isn’t any prettier. And unbelievably, those things don’t even matter anymore. All you can perceive and recognize in your afterglow is Satoru Gojo, who is already regaining his breath while you lie there like a fucked-out mess. Beautiful.

Gojo turns to face you, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate yourself, and his delighted grin is all too perfect for someone who just obliterated you.

“So…you warm enough now?”

Your sticky body shifts to face him, vibrating with laughter as you answer “For now, yes…” and your head hits the pillow exhaustedly. That’s right- you were already tired before this “development” even happened.

His whole being is pure elation as he languidly drapes an arm over your bare figure. “Does that mean we get to do that again? I think she really likes me.” His hand brushes over your abused cunt, and your body flares at his touch yet again. It was a sick epiphany that he could destroy you and you’d still want more.

You snicker. “Yes, but she is super sore right now.” The sleepiness from earlier seeps into your brain, and you find yourself curling back into his lanky frame. He accepts you openly, resting a hand on your ass as he scoops you closer.

“I can kiss her better,” he pipes up quietly, already thinking of all the ways he could keep touching you. Even though you feel that droning buzz of want again, you tiredly shake your head, regretfully reminding him “Noooo, we’ve gotta get up in a few hours. Maybe after our mission.” You swear his eyes desaturate a shade before he sighs.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You’re gonna be tired and sore anyway.”

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“Nah.” Gojo moves to press a fresh batch of kisses all over your neck, and you shudder. He did have a point- you were already planning on shotgunning whatever energy drinks were in the dingy hotel lobby’s vending machine in the morning, as if they even had one. “I could go all night if you wanted, princess. Give you more of my cooties.”

You laugh freely, realizing he probably wasn’t exaggerating. It’s quite the offer from the one who just wrecked you so good- and you’d be silly to refuse despite your tiredness. You feeling your limbs tangle into each other’s, returning thoughts of the hazardous hotel drifting away once more, and your arousal slowly revisits you. What an incredible way to forget about your surroundings. You tug playfully on his icy tresses, you decide that this might be your new favorite kind of exhaustion. “As long as you don’t share your cooties with anyone else.”

Snickering, Gojo keenly zeroes on spreading your aching legs so he can see the aftermath from earlier, and he’s hardening again at the sight of his thick cum barely trickling out onto your thighs. With a mischievous smile, he assures you, “Never. This is just too pretty. Plus, you said you were gonna tip well.”

His hands trace you, and there’s not a more discernible indicator of your new bond with him than when you look down at his length, answering him in a familiarly cheeky tone, “Well, you already did.” He laughs, the warmest he's ever allowed himself, and it's certain he's keeping his promise.

Turns out, Shoko was right about him.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #mdni #jjk #jjk x you #satoru gojo

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kimsmuse · 9 months

Text

yandere dilf !!

this was written in gaps, so im not that confident about it?? but here goes nothing. also i fucking love dilfs god. get me a dilf please.

also this was inspired by this one man i saw on my way to my uni admissions and he was there for his daughter 💀 put me in jail fr

the dilf here is in 40s something and the reader in early 20s n i think she switched universities to do her master’s (if you do not like this type of thing please look away <3)

gender neutral!reader (it might be implied femal but the pronouns are they/them) 1.7k words. warnings for age gap yandere behavior, kidnapping, manipulation, obsessive behaviour? dilf is a delusional yandere fr.

yandere!dilf who is (clichè i know, please look away but this is the best thing i can think of) your father’s friend, but not best friend or anything because he lives in another city, but oh you’re moving there for uni and your parents can’t think of anybody else to contact so they call him up !!

but he’s busy when you’re moving so he can’t help :(( oh but did i tell you he was the one who chose that apartment for you to move into?? it was so close to him and his friend said to keep an eye on you so he chose the one which wasn’t even like 5 minutes away. and he wants to be of help to his friend so bad but these board meetings and stuff ://

best believe that when he’s free he’s at your apartment with a bunch of new home essentials, a few groceries that you might need, and this man is ringing up your door. now neither of you had seen each other, heard about the other from the common point that was your father, yes. but to open the door and be in the presence of a man that is that gorgeous?? and he’s just wearing sweatpants and a tshirt?? god.

not to mention a thin chain around his neck that leads to inside his shirt…. kill me really.

anyway, but he’s equally taken back because um, this was his friend’s kid. literal kid. he shouldn’t be thinking about how alluring your appearance was, get your head straight, he tells himself, as you invite him. aren’t the shorts too short….

if sexual tension could have been visible, man would your apartment be full of it.

but he’s nothing but resisting, it’s how he has been single for so long, it’s not that he doesn’t like commitment, but… he likes to tell everyone that he just hasn’t found his The One yet.

“the apartment has come together nicely,” he says as he looks around and it is, you’ve done a great job at it and it reflects the type of person that he assumes you are.

you ask him if he wants something to drink? and he politely rejects your offer, he does not want this thing to escalate because knowing his track record, he can’t stand a minute more near the kitchen island and not think about bending you over, and that was normal for him but god, snap out of it, this is half your own age, he thinks to himself.

and you want him to stay, but again, it is quite fucked up to think about being fucked by your father’s friend and someone your father’s age.

“here,” he gives you all the stuff he brought with and kept it. “that’s all, i have some work i need to do so i’ll take your leave now,” he starts to leave when he looks back again “and, um, my number,”

to which you blush, but remind yourself, it’s only like an authority figure, nothing else. and he tells you his own address, in case there’s ever an emergency.

that is how it begins, and your father leaves a message for him, “please take care of them,” and he acts like it’s a burden but he’s overjoyed inside, he has an excuse…

anyway, fast forward to you starting university, getting a social circle, and he visits you weekly, awkward and short visits but you’re just glad he can grace your apartment like that, you even light up your special candles around for him to notice, and he does, but you don’t know how hard he’s just trying so hard to not snap.

when it’s been almost an year or something, he finally thinks he should sit down or you’ll catch on to him or something (little does he know that all you though of it was the fact that men like him are always busy.)

“so you’ve settled in okay?” he asks, as if the cctv installed outside your door doesn’t already tell him that you bring a steady flow of people home, friends.. un-friends and people he was genuinely jealous of. he was jealous of your friends too, because he desperately wanted to stay platonic with you and he didn’t know how they did that.

the conversation flows from one point to other and suddenly you ask him, “are you married?” and he looks startled at the question so quickly begin to apologise, you did not mean to overstep any boundaries.

“uh, i don’t know, i just haven’t found someone who i would like that much, i guess,” if the tension before was a lot, this was the worst it could get.

he leaves abruptly again, and you watch from your balcony as he pulls his car out of the parking and out, wishing he stayed sometime.

what you did not know though was the fact that the yandere was fully invested in your life, your friends, your daily errands. but this was what taking care of you meant, right?

the last straw came to him when you were at a party, frustrated by the lack of response that older man was giving you, you were desperate to get laid today even if you would end up being upset over the fact that it wasn’t him. but unknown to the fact that the yandere just had this.. odd feeling today? that he has to follow you and when he got to know it was a party? parties are never good news.

and he’s almost dozing off 2 hours later in his car, parked safely at a distance when he think he hears your voice. and sure enough when he takes a peek out, across the street is you, and wait, is that a guy following you.

“i was just kidding i really don’t want to go home with anybody tonight.”

he gets out of the car silently, and the guy who is insistent on getting his dick wet by specifically you, a statement which makes his blood boil, is too busy persuading you to notice the punch that the dilf throws at him from behind. the yandere doesn’t think about what you’ll ask about how he got there and stuff, this was serious and it only reaffirms his ideals that yes, he had to make sure you were safe and he had to follow you, god knows what would have happened if he wasn’t there.

as soon as the guy is knocked out, he looks at you and you look up at him surprised, your mouth forming an ‘o’ but noticing the haze in your eyes, he can feel relief inside.

“you’re here!” you exclaim and you are drunk, he concludes as you hug him. he might actually burst but he feels euphoric right now, as if he could cry, it was like he had this actual fear, what would he do if something happened to you? it was no longer the responsibility or the feeling of being answerable to your dad.

don’t worry after that, he drives you home, but his home. he has to make sure you’re safe at all times, right? what if someone decided to rob your place? or… the guy from earlier? what if he got your address from one of your friends? he couldn’t imagine it.

so there might be a change in plans, you don’t need to tell your dad yet though, or anybody. in fact, you might not need to go out at all. he made more than enough to sustain, and keep you safe, take care of you, like your dad asked, and he is nothing but a loyal friend, isn’t he?

now let's dive into little specifics, shall we?

yandere dilf is completely smitten, he was the first moment he saw you but right now you're at his mercy, and it gave me a hysterical kind of high.

and he is so so convinced that he's doing what he can to protect you and this is allthat can be done, there's no other way!

he brings you bits and pieces of news that are the most terrible of them all - murders, rapes, all of the worst stuff, so you realize how much of a favour the yandere is doing you by protecting you.

and your dad? as far as he's concerned, you're still going about your daily routine, there’s nothing wrong with it. he makes you call him because he doesn't want to deal with his friend, not yet.

yandere dilf is caring but he's also really short tempered, if he brings you food and you eat it silently without saying anything, he'll snap :(( because you should have said the food was good or you were happy that he brough you that, right?

but he realizes his fault quite soon, he was mature, he shouldn’t act this way with you. and he apologises, someone tell this man an apology means you would try not to do it again. because he does, he keeps on repeating the cycle.

at first you were completely opposed to whatever this weird idea was, but slowly you gave in, when you realized the heights he had thought all of this through to, all you could hope was someone to notice that this wasn't normal and help you. well, someone to notice and try to help you and not be bought off by the money that the yandere dilf gave them.

yandere dilf coddles you; at first this is how he got to break your shell, he patted your head when you did something good, something like eating, drinking water. and you loved it, as much as you hated to admit it, sometimes it felt like you put in so much efforts in your daily life to get people to love you, that it felt like a relief that here he was praising you for doing the smallest of tasks.

yandere dilf does not fuck you. he keeps himself in control, he does not even touch you if you're angry or upset at him, but he knows a few ways and he's bringing you around slowly to the idea of a you and him together creating an us.. he's getting there slowly and surely.

just… please.. don't try to escape or anything, that would really set the process back… or would it accelerate it…?

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luveline · 2 months

Note

what abouttttt

zombie!steve and reader (at any point tho i feel like this would make sense after the college got attacked) are like scavenging in a pharmacy and steve wanting to make his girl laugh puts on the stupidest prescription glasses that he found near the front desk but then? reader comes over and hes like have you always had that mole? and he refuses to take them off even tho theyre far sighted which makes the trek back to camp slightly unsafe but he cant stop staring at readers face because hes never seen it so clear

thank you for your request<3

“I really need some chocolate,” you lament, pulling at his hand as you drift together down the aisle toward the snack section. “If they don’t have any, I’m going to kill myself.”

“You better kill me first.” Steve pulls you back. “Seriously. Have the decency.”

“Find me some candy and I won’t have to.”

“Find yourself some candy, loser. I need some painkillers. I’m sick of dealing with you.”

You push at his arm. He resists the urge to yank you in for a kiss, letting your hand drop to part ways at the top of the aisle. He makes for the back of the store where the in-store pharmacy signs hangs half off of the wall, green glass shattered like coarse sugar grains underfoot. Steve cringes, clearing a path to the desk with the side of his shoe.

“You okay?” you call from a few feet away, unseen but close enough to be heard clearly.

“Fine! Signs of candy?”

“No,” you say dejectedly. He nearly misses it.

Steve’ll find you some chocolate if it’s the last thing he does, but first, he needs painkillers. His knee aches like he’s been beaten, a funny burning string of pain lining the underside of his leg every other step. Ideally he’d like some codeine, but more realistically he wants advil. He doesn’t know where to start, never does, but if you come over he’ll pretend he understands what things go where.

He’s lucky. He bends down and finds a bottle of motrin on the floor, looking up to find a shelf teeming with it. “Yes,” he says, ecstatic. Things rarely ever go so obviously his way. “Fucking yes.”

He shoves as many bottles of tylenol in his various pockets as he can. Then he looks around for anything interesting. He’s sure there’s a ton of things you could benefit from. He’s been wondering about epi-pens and emergency precautions, because god forbid something happen to you he couldn’t correct. Love makes him worry. You’re worrisome, you’re so sad lately, he knows you’re a few days from another burnout. He can’t handle it —he’ll take care of you, but seeing you down for the count hurts every single time.

He leans heavily on the counter and lets himself think. Absent-minded, he reaches out to spin the intact rungs of a glasses stand, prescription lenses shining against the glare of the sun seeping in from the store’s caved metal roof. “Plus two,” he says to himself, “plus three, what?” He grabs an obscene pair and shoves it up his nose, blinking in surprise at the way his vision blurs.

He turns the display to the mirrored back and grins.

“Hey, loser? You okay?” he calls.

You don’t answer.

“Babe?” he says sharply.

“Oh, you’re talking to me?”

“That’s not funny.”

You appear at the end of the aisle with an arm full of chips, less blurry the closer you get. “Sorry. Don’t call me loser then. Oh, gosh, what are you wearing?”

“Gosh,” he mimics with a laugh. “I’ve no idea.”

His poor attempt at a southern accent makes you laugh too. “Nice glasses, Harrington. I didn’t know you needed them.” Steve crossed his arms in front of him. You drop the chips beside his sleeve and station yourself as he had, a mirror, your smile charmed as you push the glasses up his nose. “You look ridiculous. Here,” —you take a nicer pair from the rack and open the legs— “swap them.”

He would, but he’s looking at you, and he’s thinking, What?

You move your head away from him instinctively, but ultimately let him hold your face, his thumb on the hill of your chin, fingers curled over your cheek. He can see the little silver scars of a cruel hand around your mouth, and the cut on your cheek from a surprising wooden beam, but what he’s never noticed is the pigmentation under your mouth. The little wrinkles by your eyes. Hell, he’s never realised your eyelashes looked quite like that until now.

“Hey–” he starts, though you’re already ducking your chin. “Wait–”

“Stop, you’re staring.”

“Yeah, I’m staring. You always had that freckle?”

“Long as I can remember.”

“Wait,” he pleads, trying to grab your chin as you step away.

“I need chocolate, Steve, I’m not kidding. You can do whatever you want to me if you help me find some.”

“You will come to love that decision very soon.”

You giggle like crazy. Steve swaps the less attractive glasses for the ones you’ve recommended and follows you down the aisle to help you look for your sugar fix. He nearly trips over a split can of condensed milk, and you might act like you don’t like him, but you catch him by the arm and allow him to hold on.

He isn’t great at helping you look, but he finds a couple of bars of cooking chocolate in the baking essentials aisle and decides it’s good enough to head home with. You eat lines of it as you walk, your fingers pressed between Steve’s, a little dab of chocolate he wouldn’t have noticed otherwise in the corner of your lips.

“You sure you don’t want some?” you ask between bites.

He’s gonna watch you eat the whole thing. “No thanks. I’m saving room for Robin’s artichoke heart and refried bean combo.”

“Would you take those off?” Your cheek twitches as you smile. Your eyes glow with affection. “You can barely walk.”

“You don’t like them?”

“They really, really suit you, actually. I love them,” you say, to his secret delight.

“So what’s the problem?”

He trips over his own feet and has to grab your arm to stop from falling. “That’s the problem,” you say, in love enough to smile even when the world has gone to shit for you a thousand times. Your eyes follow down his nose to his lips.

Steve grins and ducks forward for a kiss. “Oh, sorry,” he says when the glasses bump your nose.

You laugh and touch under his chin to help him out. You taste like chocolate still as he kisses against the seam of your lips, a quick but blissfully deep kiss, a handful of seconds where Steve feels like you’re one in the same before he pulls away, just enough to see both of your eyes.

“What’re you looking at?” you ask.

“You have chocolate on your nose,” he lies. “Want me to get it?”

“Yes,” you say bashfully.

He kisses the tip of your nose, then the corner of your lip.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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jongseongsnudes · 4 months

Note

THE NIKI DRABBLE WAS SO ADORBSSSS CAN I PLEASE MAKE A REQUEST!

- Haruto (!!the instigator!!) helps the couple back together after a dumb fight

0.8k words. slight angst, cringey & fluffyyyyyyy.

“nishimura is the most annoying-est person to ever live! why does everyone like him!”

“you like him.”

“not only that! but he has the audacity to yell at me for what? for trying to help him?”

“that’s your fault. you’re dating him.”

you stop complaining and glare over to haruto, who was too busy driving to notice your newly raised brows.

“watanabe you’re not helping.”

“well not my fault you’re both headaches,” he shrugs as he pulls into taki’s drive way, the loud music coming from the house already attacking your poor ears.

with taki’s parents out of town for the weekend, the boy had gathered the team over for a little get together. but boys being boys, of course they forget to prepare anything other than themselves.

so here you were, coming back from the supermarket with loads of snacks and drinks.

“i’ll see you inside miss class president,” he disappears before you could even respond, leaving you with all the grocery bags in his car boot.

although you had this problem to figure out, your mind was more distracted by something else instead. your boyfriend.

it was pretty normal for you and niki to bicker on the daily, usually over nothing and it’d end as quick as it began. but today’s bickering session unfortunately ended with him saying something hurtful and you saying something out of line.

a stupid fight yet you’re both giving each other the cold shoulder, just because you're both too stubborn to admit it.

“why are you pushing me watanabe?” your boyfriend’s sudden deep voice breaks you from your thoughts, the boy now standing at the front door with haruto behind him.

“you two are so annoying. make up or break up before you come back inside,” haruto says as he pushes niki out and shuts the door with a thud, trapping you both outside together.

you sigh and walk to haruto's boot, not paying too much attention to the team captain who is currently banging on the front door like the maniac that he was.

to your surprise, the tall boy appears beside you only a second later, hands reaching out for the grocery bags but you ignore it.

“let me take them in.”

“i don’t need your help.”

“they are heavy,” he reaches for them again, only for you to push him away slightly, “i’ll take them-”

“no i can do it myself!”

“you are so damn stubborn!” the boy yells as he slams the boot closed out of the blue, startling you. he doesn’t give you the time to respond and immediately lifts you up by the waist, placing you to sit on the boot. to prevent you from getting away, niki places both his hands on either sides of you, trapping you in completely.

although you’re supposed to be giving him the cold shoulder, you can’t help but swoon for a moment. swoon at how god damn breath taking he looked this close.

if you weren’t currently fighting, you probably would’ve kissed him already.

“nishimura move.”

“no, we need to talk. right now.”

“alright, what do you want to talk about?” you fold your arms, your expression much more sulky compared to his current angry one, “is it what haruto said... break up?”

“what- what the hell!” the boy seemed even angrier than before, his hands raised in the air like you had just said the most insane thing, “you fucking wish!”

his response catches you off guard, your mind unable to come up with anything to say other than gulp.

“baby,” he says in a much calmer tone, the boy now chuckling to himself, “funny of you to think you’ll ever successfully get away from me.”

“then? you’ve been ignoring me the whole day, even when i tried to talk to you earlier.”

“i’m sorry i was being stupid... i didn’t mean to yell at you either,” he reaches to softly cup your cheeks, making you look at him, “can you forgive your handsome, tall, smart, athletic boyfriend?”

the disgusted face you automatically make has the boy in complete stitches and you immediately follow suit, the two of you laughing loudly amongst yourselves like two crazy people.

it reminded you of why you fell for him in the first place and why you still liked him.

“i don’t know. depends on-”

he leans in, kissing you and shutting you up.

“as i was saying! depends on-”

and he kisses you again, shutting you up again.

“just say you want me to kiss you and i’ll do it. no need to play these dirty tricks with me, miss class president.”

“i was not-”

just as you expected, he kisses you again, only this time it melts your heart even more than the last. the view of niki smiling and so giddy into the kiss, always something your heart can barely survive through.

“you’re lucky i like kissing you miss class president.”

“well shut up and do it then nishimura-”

“oh god i think my lunch is coming up. oh no i’m gagging,” both you and niki turn to taki’s voice, just to see the entire team now standing on the front porch, all making gagging faces at the sight of their team captain and his girlfriend.

kissing.

“you’re all going to SUFFER at practice tomorrow!!!”

end.

2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

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opultea · 5 months

Text

Babe, Look at Me!

Things the Genshin men do to try and impress you. ft. Alhaitham, Lyney, Morax (Zhongli), Itto

Fluff - Romantic - SFW - GN Reader (No Pronouns) - Headcanons

Word Count: 0.8k

Alhaitham

So here’s the thing

Alhaitham ain’t a man to show off

He literally doesn’t care about what anyone thinks of him

Expect for a special someone (¬‿¬)

(That’s you boo)

Alhaitham still doesn’t show off in the classic way. Definitely doesn’t go out of his way to make you view him doing certain things

But if the opportunity presents itself naturally… then why not take it?

I’m talking lifting up the hem off his shirt to wipe sweat off his brow when he’s working out with/near you, changing shirts just a little bit slower than he usually would if you’re around, putting a bit more effort in winning a debate he’s in with another scholar when you’re with him, flexing his bicep when you hold his arm

It’s the little things

But boy do they work

Sports a smug little smile when he sees you affected by him

If you get flustered and smack his chest to tell him to stop, he'll just give you a slight smile and tell you he has no idea what you're talking about

Lyney

As if this guy won't spend ages perfecting that trick where he pulls a bouquet from nowhere so he can gradually pull out bigger and bigger bouquets to give you

He already practices his tricks almost constantly, dead set on perfecting every little thing

But with you on his mind?

That spark to do his best grows into a fervent flame like no other

Lynette doesn't complain about his childish wish to impress you as long as it's improving his performance (and making him happier), but she definitely rolls her eyes at him when she overhears him practising his line delivery for when he gifts you the rainbow roses he bought earlier

He personally invites you to every one of his shows, and though he understands if you can't make it every time, he smiles so wide when you say yes that you're tempted to push aside all your other commitments anyway

After the show, he'll pull you aside and ask what you thought, all while trying to appear as if he isn't nervously awaiting your approval

Morax

I’ve specified Morax here because this is based in the universe of my Zhongli x Cloud God Reader head cannon (from my Where’s My Kiss? drabbles)

Look, he’s a young, proud, powerful god with his eye on the lovely cloud god that he sees roaming above sometimes, and he can’t help but try to do certain things hoping you’ll be watching from your domain

Morax in his dragon form taking more causal flights around Liyue than he used to, certainly not because he knows you can see his magnificent true form from your palace in the heavens when he flies past

Although he doesn’t often involve himself in battle unless necessary, he’s found himself allowing the yaksha to spar with him with the excuse that he believes it will test their limits (and definitely not because he wants you to see how powerful he is)

You agreed to help him train the yaksha, and as you stand at the side of the small battleground Morax locks eyes with you as he does his finishing move in a 'cool guys don't look at explosions' way

Definitely smirks a little when he sees how it affects you

Itto

Actually says the phrase 'Babe, look at me!' all the time

Literally will do anything and then turn to you to receive his head pat and praise

Loves to flex (both literally and figuratively)

Takes extra special care of his horns and hair the night before he's going to see you just to fish for extra compliments

If you don't immediately acknowledge the extra care he took and the extra shine on his horns, he'll clear his throat and place his hand on his head to make you look up at his horns

If you still don't compliment him or act impressed (which you've definitely done just to tease him) he'll get sooo pouty, poor baby :((

But of course, you always act so impressed in the end, often turning it up to eleven jokingly

Itto will take any and all compliments seriously though, no matter how dramatic you're acting with them

"Thanks babe, knew you'd notice."

He acts cool by sweeping back his flowing mane as if he wasn't hunched over pouting two seconds ago

"My horn's are just too cool sometimes, you know? Feels like I gotta reign in my own awesomeness sometimes, otherwise everyone will be all up on me and you'll get lost in the crowd of admirers! And we can't have that, huh? You're the numero uno cheerleader for this numero uno leader!"

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

“Oh, gods.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, gods.”

Nico scowls, wrenching just eyes away from Will’s poorly-covered grin and shaking shoulders.

It’s not that bad. It isn’t.

Sure, the complete lack of lighting except Greek fire torches makes the cabin look like a little piece of the Underworld, right here on the surface. But that’s comforting. Honestly. Nico knows the Underworld. It’s — familiar.

And, yeah. It would, probably, be pertinent to have some furniture, or something. At least somewhere for him to store his clothes, because he has more than one set of those now, and maybe a shelf, or something. And, admittedly, the obsidian altar could take up a little less space than it currently does.

But it’s not that bad.

“Are those. Coffin shaped beds.”

The tone of Will’s voice is unlike he’s ever heard it. He turns back to face him, slowly, and finds him biting his fist, hard, every muscle of his body tense as live wire.

“I was twelve godsdamn years old,” Nico snaps. “Forgive me if interior design wasn’t my passion.”

Solace loses it.

In his defense, not that Nico is too worried about defending him, he does appear to try very hard to not lose it. When the first giggle slips out of his lips, he clamps his jaw shut tighter. When his whole body begins to shake with the force of repressing his laughter, he curls inward, as if making himself smaller might reduce the chance of a lapse in control.

But then he glances back inside and looks, really looks, at the dreary, stone walls, the lone skeletons standing guard, and the plush, teakwood black coffin bunk beds, and he collapses to the floor.

“I’m going to open a chasm beneath you,” Nico threatens. “You are going to fall and crack your spine into a million pieces on the bank of the Styx, rotting there with every other forgotten hope.”

“You are a Black Parade lyric personified,” Will wheezes.

Nico doesn’t know what that means, so he kicks him. Unfortunately, he only laughs harder.

“I mean it, Solace. It’s a long way down to the Underworld. You will spend the entire fall petrified with the knowledge that nothing can save you.”

For added effect, Nico makes the floor under the medic’s body shake, makes the tip of a skeleton hand peek out from the earth.

Ironically, this stops Will’s laughter, but not for the reason Nico was aiming for.

“Hey!” A bright blue flipflop-clad foot darts out and collides With Nico’s ankle, sending him sprawling. “I said no spooky magic for the next two months! Put that skeleton away!”

“Fuck off, Solace! It’s barely half a bone! You are so annoying!”

“That’s my specialty.” Will pushes himself upright. He waits until Nico sits up, too, so he can catch his eye before his face splits into a dazzling grin. Actual sparkles seem to flicker beside his face. “And you are ever so easy to annoy.”

Nico stares, unimpressed.

“Anyways.” Will coughs. “You can’t stay here, Neeks —”

“Don’t call me that.”

“— it’s straight-up too depressing.” He peers inside. “It’s also cold, and, like…borderline unliveable? So. As your doctor, I can’t allow it.”

“You’re a medic,” Nico says, raising an eyebrow, “first of all, not a doctor. Second of all, you can’t tell me what to do. Third of all — where am I supposed to sleep? The woods?”

“Hm. Good question.”

Will gets to his feet, brushing the dirt off his shorts and offering Nico a hand. After a second of hesitation, he takes it, allowing Will to haul him up.

“C’mon!”

Nico snatches his hand away, face burning. (Gods. Why does Will have to be so…touchy-feely? And why does it always do weird things to Nico’s stomach?) But it hardly takes a look over Will’s shoulder before Nico’s feet are following after him, without his permission.

“Where are we going?”

“Well, my dad’s kind of a hoe,” Will says matter-of-factly. Nico chokes. Will’s grin widens. “And our cabin was built with that in mind. I know we’ve got an extra bunk or two for ya. Hurry up!”

This…cannot be allowed. Nico doesn’t have a ton of Camp Half-Blood experience, or anything, but as far as he knows, Hermes is the only cabin that can really do that. He doesn’t want to incur the wrath of Apollo, or whatever, by staying in his cabin uninvited.

Well. Will’s inviting him, technically. And there’s a confidence to his offer, like maybe this isn’t the first time he’s done it.

“What if I don’t want to live in your stupid sunshine-y cabin,” Nico grumbles, trying to cover up his nerves. “Holding hands and singing about how much I love being alive isn’t really my cup of tea.”

Will snorts. “Oh, di Angelo,” he says dramatically, shaking his head, “you are in for a world of discovery. Welcome to the Cabin Apollo. Take your shoes off at the door and remember that Kayla bites.”

———

Living in the Apollo cabin is strange.

Four days in, and Nico is only just starting to get used to it. He’s not entirely unused to sharing space with people — he’s had two sisters — but the Apollo kids argue like they enjoy doing it. One minute, Will and Kayla will be screaming at each other at the top of their lungs about touching each other’s shit, then they’re teaming up to pull Gracie off Yan’s face for the exact same argument, only now they offer sage advice on respecting boundaries and compromising. It’s bizarre.

(Austin is pretty chill, actually. Nico has noticed him starting quite a few fights — it was he, in fact, who moved Will’s shit and then gracefully framed Kayla — but he has a very powerful eyebrow raise and a very powerful image as Unproblematic. He has quickly become Nico’s favourite.)

He’s only just barely beginning to understand how they work together, and the struggle comes in because everything is so chaotic. When Nico spent time with Hazel in New Rome, she was in the barracks. He never really had to worry about squabbling over counter space in the bathroom with her, because she had her own little toiletry caddie like everyone else, and bathrooms were public. With Bianca — well. There’s no one alive who knows this about her, but she was bossy. She was sweet and wonderful and self-sacrificing and brave and kind and the centre of Nico’s life, but by the gods, did she take her authority as a big sister seriously. She ordered Nico around all the time. He never had to worry much about when he would have the chance to use the bathroom they shared at the Lotus, or who got the T.V. remote, or who go to sit on the bus instead of standing, because he was not the one deciding. He could stick his tongue out and whine all he wanted, but she was boss. He knew that.

The Apollo kids are not like that.

As well as Nico can figure, it’s kind of a free-for-all. You want first shower? Either wake up the earliest — a strategy only Will every manages to employ with any success — or manage to jab an elbow in someone’s rib and sprint. You want whoever’s humming to shut the hell up so you can sleep? Make sure your threats are quick and believable, or just straight up start throwing shit until they finally stop. You want the coveted middle of the bench spot at breakfast? Well, tough shit on that one, actually. Nico has yet to make that one happen for himself.

He won’t admit it, but he has kind of learned to enjoy it. It’s annoying, and the Apollo siblings do indeed sing at all hours of the day (although the content usually skews more towards diss tracks and delighted insults, if not straight-up curses), and it is so godsdamn bright in there, seriously, is it a gimmick or what, but there’s something to be said about the fact that he’s so surrounded by people and chaos that he hasn’t even had the chance to feel lonely. Not even at night, panting to himself after a nasty nightmare, because all it takes is a particularly loud snore from Will one bunk down to remember where he is. To remember that he’s safe — by demigod standards, at least.

But, still.

He kind of misses his privacy.

“Will,” he whispers urgently, on his fifteenth day of rooming with the Apollo weirdos.

The medic hums noncommittally, attention very focused on the test tube in front of him. Nico has been fighting the urge to try and launch a piece of dust inside it for forty minutes, just to make him explode.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Sounds good, Nico.”

Nico narrows his eyes. “You’re ignoring me.”

“Uh-huh. Agreed.”

“I can say anything I want right now.”

“Sure. Maybe double check with Austin.”

“…I’m going to put a colony of ants in your pillowcase.”

“Good idea.”

“Then I’m going to douse your hair products in gasoline and set them aflame.”

“Baller.”

“After that I’m gonna read your super secret diary to the entirety of camp at singalong tonight.”

“You betcha.”

“And then I’m going to shadow travel to Russia.”

Will blinks, frowning. “Hey, no shadow-travelling. What’s this I hear about shadow-travelling?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Nothing, stupid. You were just ignoring me.”

Will smiles guiltily. “Aw, I’m sorry, Neeks. Got focused on this. I’m finished in twenty, then I’m all yours?”

“…Don’t call me Neeks,” Nico grumbles, furious with himself for how quick he’s relented under wide blue puppy-dog eyes.

“Sorry, Neeks.”

Huffing at Will’s quiet laughter, Nico slides off the nurse’s station counter and wanders around the empty infirmary. Things have luckily finally cooled down in here, nearly three weeks after the end of the Giant War. Some of the exhaustion has faded from Will’s features now that he’s had time to sleep properly.

Not that Nico has noticed, or anything.

“Okay,” Will says a few minutes later, holding his hands up protectively in front of his geeky little setup. “I just gotta do this last step, so long as I calculated it right, it should be fine…” He squeezes a drop of something into the liquid bubbling over the burner, freezing immediately. One, two, three seconds pass and nothing happens, so Will relaxes, sighing in relief and turning to face Nico fully. “Okay, we’re good. What was it you wanted to —”

The text tube contents explode in his face, dousing him in slimey green goo.

Nico bursts out laughing.

“Great,” Will says darkly, swiping the stuff from his eyes. “The one day I don’t wear goggles. Great.”

Nico gasps, sides aching. “Oh my gods —”

“Feel free to help, di Angelo.”

“— you look like a cartoon! Your face!”

It takes Will twelve cloths and seven whole minutes to clean himself and the nurse’s station off of the goo. Nico cackles at him the whole time, and tastefully does not mention the many globs of goo that remain caked in his hair.

“Whenever you’re done.”

Will is very, very bad at being stern when he doesn’t really mean it. And he doesn’t really mean it now, because every time he tries to glare at Nico, his mouth twitches.

“I’m good,” Nico finally wheezes, forcing his face back to normal. “I’m good, I’m good.”

He very pointedly does not look at Will’s hair.

“Dick,” Will huffs, fondness bleeding into his tone. “What did you want?”

He must notice the change in tone at his asking, because he clears the bench fully, hoisting himself on top of it and patting the spot next to him. Nico hesitates for half a second, then crawls up, sitting criss cross applesauce, knees touching.

“I need to move back to my cabin,” he manages, finally.

Will’s face betrays no judgement or emotion. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He picks at a loose thread in his jeans. “I need — space.”

The thread loosens, allowing Nico to tug on it. A hole begins to unravel along the seam as he pulls and pulls and pulls. He stops himself before it gets too wide, tearing the thread off and winding it around his fingers.

“I can tell everyone to tone it down,” Will offers softly, eyebrows creased. “We’ll be more quiet, we’ll —”

Nico places a hand on his knee, cutting off his sentence. “It’s not about that, I promise. You guys have been great.”

A wounded look still pulls at Will’s strong features, as much as he visibly tries to pull his face back to something more supportive. “It’s not?”

“No, no. It’s just —” He frowns, trying to articulate the tangled mess of his thoughts. “I have my own cabin.”

“So?”

“And I can’t stay in yours forever.”

“I mean, you could.”

“Chiron’s been giving me looks, Will.”

“So what! I’ll — write you a doctor’s note, or something!”

Nico snorts. “A doctor’s note letting me sleep in your cabin?”

Will nods fervently, although he seems to acknowledge the ridiculousness of his suggestion, if the grin on his face is any indication. “Yes! For medical reasons, you know.” He mimes writing. “‘Patient’s cabin is dank and sad. To avoid bouts of misery, patient must sleep in the presence of the coolest and best and prettiest and most uplifting people in camp.’”

“Hm. Not sure Chiron’s gonna buy that last part. Not sure I buy that last part, actually.”

“Hey.”

Nico dodges Will’s shove, chuckling.

“Seriously, though, Will. This was never a long term solution, right?”

“I know. You’re cabin just — sucks so bad, man. No offense.”

“I take great offense to that, actually. My cabin is art.”

“Sure, Eddie Cullen.”

“I don’t know who that is, so that’s a horrible insult.”

“Travesty, honestly.”

Outside the open infirmary windows, Nico can hear distant, triumphant screaming, laughter, and the clang of metal. Today’s a good day. The weather’s balmier than usual, for late August, and some of the gloom that’s hung over everyone’s head for the bast few weeks seems to have lifted.

“You can’t go back to your cabin like it is,” Will says into the silence, startling Nico, “but —” he grins when Nico begins to protest, holding up his hand. “We can definitely change it up.”

He slides off the bench, botching his landing and almost sprawling on the floor. He holds a dramatic hand out to Nico when he rights himself. Nico ignores it, rolling his eyes and getting to his feet by himself.

“C’mon,” Will says, grabbing his hand anyway. Sparks shoot up Nico’s arm. “We need to go ask Chiron for the van keys and approximately five hundred dollars.”

———

Three hours is too fucking long to be in a vehicle. Especially when Will is driving, because all he does is play nonstop country music and let everybody cut in front of him.

“I’m driving us back,” Nico informs him as they (finally) get out of the stupid van, snatching the keys from his hands.

Will shrugs. “Sure.”

Nico had expected more of a fight, honestly. But he supposes neither of them are legally allowed to drive, age-wise, and besides, Nico technically has seventy years of driving experience on Will.

(…The Lotus had a racetrack.

Nico was very, very good at it.)

“What is this place, anyway?”

“This place,” Will says grandly, throwing an arm over his shoulders, “is essentially the mortal version of the Labyrinth, minus, you know, the soul-sucking terror.”

“Okay. All that’s telling me is that you have horrible ideas and we should leave immediately.”

Will rolls his eyes. “It’s a furniture store.”

“Well, then —” he punches Will’s shoulder, huffing when he only laughs. “Say that, then!”

“But then what would I do with all the drama in my heart?”

“Choke on it, hopefully!”

Ikea is weird.

Since Will did not tell him what the plan was, he didn’t draw up any plans. Luckily, Will has the dimensions of his cabin — although where he got them, Nico does not ask — so they spend an hour or so in the cafe drawing out a plan.

“You need more than two beds, Neeks.”

“Uh, no I don’t. Unless my father has something very important to announce to me, I need a bed for me, and a bed for Hazel.”

“What if I want to sleep over?”

“You can sleep on the porch.”

Mostly, they wander around the sets. Nico isn’t really sure what he wants his cabin to look like — he has to remind himself that yes, actually, he cares about the space he’ll be spending at least the next three years of his life in. It’s a startling reality, to have control over his own space. He must’ve had some say in his childhood bedroom, but he has no memory of it. He spent the most time in his and Bianca’s room at the Lotus, but that was already furnished when they got there, and besides, it only felt like they were there for less than a year. It always felt like a hotel room, never his room. Westminster was no different. His room in his father’s palace had already been designed, too. In fact he’d based his cabin on it.

What does Nico want his bedroom to look like, without someone else deciding for him?

“I’m not getting a fucking Lightning McQueen bed, Solace.”

“But it would be so sick! And look — it’s got little cubbies!”

“I’m going to ditch you, and shadow travel back to camp,” Nico threatens. “And I have the van keys, so you’ll be stuck here for real.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Will looks at him sternly, hands on hips. “No shadow travelling for you, Death Breath. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t fade into nothing on my watch.”

“I’m joking,” Nico says, exasperated, but cannot deny the warmth that fills him up at Will’s concern.

In the end, he decides on a pretty normal bed. It’s bigger than Will’s bunk (“Or anyone else’s bed,” Will grumbles, “you lucky asshole.”), but not ridiculously designed. He picks a similar size for Hazel, only the frame is white, not black, and the bedspread that comes with it is a soft, coral pink that he knows she will like.

“Wanna see if they’ve got a Mythomagic bedspread for yours?” Will teases.

That would be the coolest thing ever in the entire world, Nico thinks, and is so embarrassed that he shoves Will, shrieking, into a giant basket of pillows for making him think it.

“Obviously I don’t want that.”

“You are such a turd! I’ll get you, di Angelo!”

He does not. Nico is way too sneaky for him, and after the fifth time Nico manages to give him the slip, he gives up, sulking in a display for a bedroom of a nine year old girl.

“Fitting,” Nico teases, gesturing to the princess wallpaper. “You drama queen.”

“Buzz off.”

Next, they look for furniture. It’s pretty easy — Nico doesn’t need much, and he’s not too concern with cut or style or anything. He quickly picks out two dressers, one to match Hazel’s bed frame, and one to match his, and then a couple bookshelves.

Four hours into their trip, Nico is exhausted. They have a three hour drive ahead of them, they’ve been out all day, and he wants to go home.

But Will stops him before they go get all the boxes for their furniture.

“This is still pretty bare bones,” he says quietly, then grins at his own accidental pun. Nico shoots him a venomous look, warning him against making it more obvious, and for once he actually listens. “You know, we’re still under budget. We’ve got around $200 left — we can get a motel, stay the night, then we don’t have to drive back right away. And tomorrow, maybe we can check out some other stores, look for smaller decorations and stuff. And if we don’t have to drive back tonight, we’ve maybe got another hour in here, if you wanted to get a couple more pieces.”

Nico opens his mouth to refuse — that’s way too much effort to spend on one person’s cabin, c’mon — then pauses, thinking about it.

Chiron hadn’t even thought about it before handing them the money. Will had barely gotten the words out before he’d started counting out the bills.

“I want you to make a home here,” the centaur had said, touching his hand. There was a pain in his kind eyes, stopping any protests. “I made a mistake, Nico, the first time you came here. In another life, you felt welcome enough to stay the whole time. Take what you need.”

What does he need? What does home look like, to him?

“There was a beanbag chair, in our room at the Lotus,” he says, pushing the words past the lump in his throat. “Me and Bianca used to fight over it.” His voice shakes. A tear gathers at the corner of his eye, and he blinks it back. “It wasn’t real fighting. When I called mercy she’d — scoop me up and throw me on it and squish in after me, and we’d sit together and play video games. Or read. She liked to read.”

Will squeezes his trembling hands. “We can get a beanbag chair.”

“And I — don’t like the blackout curtains. The dark makes me think of — the pit.”

“Okay. They sell lotsa lamps here, too. Might be nicer than the Greek fire.”

Nico nods. There’s — more, far more ideas, now, flooding his brain; Hazel crowding over him on a rug-covered floor, shrieking as he teases her about Frank; a desk tucked in the corner where Will sits, mouthing along to his textbooks as Nico sharpens his sword; Jason running his fingers along rows of books on a big, cluttered shelf; Reyna with her fist curled around her mouth, studying a chess board across from him, hair shining under the natural light from the window.

He can have that. He can have that.

Thankfully, all their stuff fits in the back of the van. Despite his insistence earlier, Nico hands Will the keys, and he drives around until he finds a shitty motel with a vacancy sign flashing out front. He pulls into the farthest corner of the parking lot, killing the engine, then waits.

“You okay?”

Nico shrugs. “I’m…not sure.”

“That’s okay,” Will assures, pressing a fleeting touch to his shoulder. Nico grabs his wrist before he moves away, tugging down his hand and linking their fingers together.

For once, it doesn’t make him feel all sparky. The warmth of Will’s hands is grounding, and so is the gentle squeeze, the smile he feels pointed in his direction.

“C’mon. Let’s check in and sleep, huh?”

Nico’s exhaustion compounds in the walk from the car to the lobby, so by the time Will is speaking quietly to the host, he’s half asleep, leaning on Will’s shoulder. He vaguely feels it when Will shifts his weight, sliding a hand around his waist to hold him better. He blinks and they’re standing in front of a door.

“Almost there, Death Boy,” he murmurs. “Hold on a sec.”

It takes him six separate tries to make the keycard work. He gets huffy when Nico snickers tiredly at him.

“Finally, yeesh.”

He guides Nico in, dropping the backpack he brought somewhere near the door. As soon as the bed is within Nico’s sights, he makes a beeline, barely remembering to shuck his shoes and jacket.

“Please do not sleep in your jeans.”

“Mmmfuck off,” Nico groans, already sliding under the covers. He’ll regret it in the morning, but whatever.

“Goober.” Callused hands brush through his hair, resting lightly on his forehead. “Goodnight, Nico.”

Nico’s out before he can even think to respond.

———

He wakes up, in the middle of the night, scream caught in his throat and heart pounding in his ears. The air smells like smoke and fear. The rushing of the Phlegethon is so loud it’s overpowering.

A loud snore knocks him back to reality.

Crawling desperately towards the source of the sound, he hangs over the bed, eyes adjusting rapidly to the dark to see a curled lump on the floor, head resting on his own hands. A quick glance behind him confirms the other half of the bed has been left untouched.

“Stupid,” he mumbles, tiny smile chasing away the last of his fear.

He tugs the blankets off the mattress, pulls off the two pillows, and joins his dumbass, selfless friend on the floor.

———

“Question,” Will asks, swallowing the last of their disgustingly delicious greasefest of a breakfast. “Were you alive when Walmart was invented?”

“I was alive before your great grandmother was.”

“No, I mean — were you out and kickin’. Have you strolled the endless aisles of corporate soullessness, basking in the wonder of American overconsumerism?”

“…You’re such a weird, particular person.”

Will looks delighted. “You’re a Walmart newbie!”

He pulls into the dead, cracked parking lot way too happily for this hour in the morning. Nico would even say he takes the nearest exit to get to the store gleefully. He is embarrassed for him.

Walmart is…underwhelming.

As stupid as it is, Will had hyped it up so much that Nico was almost a little excited. It just looked like any other basic superstore. Will, for whatever reason, seemed delighted by that fact.

“I do not like this store,” he explained when Nico asked, expression not matching his words, “it just means so very much to me that you are joining me in the misery of having experienced it.”

They spend more time than they mean to just dicking around. At one point they nearly get thrown out by management, because Will finds a pair of NERF guns that some child dug out of its packaging and no words need to be spoken. They gear up and scamper off, hunting each other through fluorescent-lights hell.

“Please just get your shit and leave,” says the very tired looking manager, and they have the good gall to at least appear embarrassed as they mumble, “Yes, ma’am.”

It doesn’t take long when they have their head on straight. They get some fairy lights, a couple cool posters, dorky little trinkets that Nico probably doesn’t need, per se, but what was he supposed to do, leave the little plastic crow skeleton behind?

Unlikely.

With his own money, Will buys several cans of paint and a CD. He explains neither of these purchases. The look on his face gets steadily more infuriating as they make their way through the line, and Nico really, truly considers leaving him behind.

The purchase of the CD becomes very obvious very quickly. Even though Nico is driving, and therefore Nico should get music control, Will pouts and pleads until Nico gives in and lets him play his stupid country album. He justifies his decision in his own brain by noticing the radiance of Will’s smile as he belts out the words, badly, at the top of his lungs. He then spends the rest of the drive back to camp convincing himself not to be embarrassed for having said thoughts.

They get back to camp about lunch time, and Will destroys any attempt for a subtle reentry by whistling the second they cross the property line.

“Austin! Kayla!” he hollers, making Nico jump. “Come help us unload!”

“We coulda done it ourselves,” Nico grumbles.

Will pats his head condescendingly. “It has been twenty-four long, long hours since I’ve bosses my siblings around, Neeks. I need this.”

It does go by quite a bit quicker with Austin and Kayla’s help. Lou Ellen, Cecil, Yan, and Gracie come to help, too, but Gracie’s too little to carry much more than a small desk lamp. Instead, they lay down the biggest box — Nico’s bed frame — and let her climb on top of it, carrying her like she’s a queen atop a throne back to Nico’s cabin. She has the time of her life, giggling to herself like a madwoman.

By the time everything’s unloaded, a couple hours have passed, and the Hades cabin looks like a clusterfuck.

“Maybe you stay in Apollo a couple more nights,” Will suggests.

“Might have to,” Nico agrees. Will looks inordinately pleased with himself.

All in all, it takes about two days to disassemble the old furniture, get rid of it, and start putting together the new stuff. Will helps for most of it, but he has a few shifts in the infirmary, so Nico ends up trying to do a fair bit on his own.

“May the wrath of Zeus come down upon this fucking piece of shit, no good, poorly designed garbage-looking idiotic mother fuc —”

“Maybe time for a break from furniture assembling?” suggests a voice, accompanied by a quick knock in the open door. Will leans on the doorframe, grinning, box propped up on his hip.

“Will, thank the gods,” Nico sighs, relieved. He angrily shakes a tool in his direction. “Allen wrenches are fucking useless. I’m three seconds away from throwing this through the window.”

“Definitely time for a switch, then.”

Will’s smile is wide and crinkles his eyes. He’s got dimples, too, Nico is now noticing, and then very rapidly un-noticing then because gods above that is a dangerous path.

“Did you and Rachel get into another prank war?” he asks, praying the flush on his cheeks goes away.

Will glances down at his paint-spattered clothes. “Nah, this is just my painting outfit. Why ruin more than one set of clothes, you know?” He sets down the box in the middle of the room, then heads for the half-built furniture sprawled all throughout the cabin, tugging it all towards the middle. Nico inches towards the box, curious, and finds it full of dozens of paint cans and brushes, including the ones he got at Walmart.

“I didn’t know you painted.”

He flashes another grin in Nico’s direction. This one has a little mischief to it, a little teasing. His stomach swoops.

“Gotta have at least one artistic talent or my dad would disown me. Help me tape down this tarp, will you?”

It takes them twenty minutes to prep the room, protecting the floor and the furniture. Once everything is ready, Will jogs over to the CD player he gave Nico a few days ago, flicking through the stack of CDs and choosing one at random. Soft opera music begins to float around the cabin.

“Okay,” he begins, clapping his hands, “first we need a base coat. Get the white paint and the rollers.”

It takes them the rest of the day, painting until dinner, then waiting past sunset for it to dry. Nico follows Will back to his cabin that night — he wouldn’t let him sleep around the paint fumes — and the two of them return the next morning, re-donning their paint-spattered clothes. Will braids his hair, this time, tucking the little pigtails behind a kerchief. It makes Nico smile every time he looks at him.

As much as he’s in painting clothes, Nico doesn’t really do much of the painting. He stays in the centre of the room, half assembling furniture, half watching Will bring his walls to life with more colours than he’s ever seen in one place.

Will doesn’t ask what Nico wants him to paint in his murals. Instead, Nico watches as the streets of Venice begin to unfold on one of the walls, bright and blue and exactly as he remembers, even though he knows for a fact Will has never been. The shining fruit of his stepmother’s garden is next, with a notable absence of the pomegranate tree, and then the hills of New Rome, the sunflower field in rural New York Nico used to visit, the Chinese mountainscape from the first big shadow travelling jump he ever made. Even the poplar forests of the Underworld, looking much kinder and livelier in Will’s rendition than in real life, with Mrs. O’Leary and Cerberus chasing each other through the flickering leaves. Beautiful, colourful, breathtaking scenes; Nico’s favourite places, Nico’s many homes.

“I get a lot of dreams,” Will admits, dragging a smear of rich purple near the ceiling. “You’re in a lot of them. These are the places you’re smiling, the most.”

“They’re beautiful, Will.” Nico’s throat is drier than any desert he’s ever been to. “Gods, they’re more beautiful here than they are in real life.”

“Liar,” Will teases, although his smile is shy.

Nico has never seen him smile like that. He’s seen a lot more of Will in these past few days, actually; his softness, his kindness, his love.

He has only knows Will for a little over a month, he thinks. But Will loves him. That much is obvious.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

His eyes are still trained on his work. He is on his tiptoes on a step stool, one leg extended precariously, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. The curve of his brush is careful, meticulous. Only the best for his friends, for Nico. That’s Will.

“Hey,” Nico says again, more urgently. He steps forward, wrapping his fingers around his wrist.

“Just a sec, Neeks, as soon as I’m done we can —”

Nico pulls until he loses his balance, falling into Nico’s arms. He stares into wide, blue blue eyes, for one second, two, then presses their lips together. Will’s squeak of surprise is swallowed by his mouth, hands sliding up his arms to cup his face, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh,” he sighs, eyelashes ticking Nico’s cheeks as they flutter close. “Oh.”

He melts into Nico’s hold. There’s a thunk and a crinkle as his paintbrush falls from his loose fingers, splattering onto the tarp, and paint-wet hands tangle into his hair. Nico finds he doesn’t mind.

“You love me,” he murmurs in between breaths, lips brushing Will’s with every word.

“Yes,” Will breathes. He kisses Nico again, and again. “A lot.”

“Good.” He’s not sure if it’s the paint fumes making him lightheaded, or the odd, slightly uncomfortable position, or the intoxicating, delirious feel of Will’s warm skin. He’s not sure if he cares. “Good.”

It’s not quite an I-love-you-too. The words won’t form on his tongue, so instead he tightens his hold, sending them that way, and presses closer, closer, closer.

Will smiles into the kiss.

He understands just fine.

#i could write an essay about how i think they’re dynamic would be immediately post three days in the infirmary #also i fit SO MANY of my personal headcanons in here hell yeah #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #nico/will #will/nico #gently falling in love #love #i’m tagging it bc. will loves so clearly in this one it kills me a little #fic #my writing #longpost

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luminoustarlight · 6 months

Text

Leo Campo is a romantic. He’s a ladies man until he finds the one, but you better believe he treats every woman he’s ever hooked up with like they’re his world. He’s just an affectionate guy. Call it a symptom of being Italian. Pet-names roll off of his tongue smoothly, always punctuated with a little smirk.

“Can I get you anything else, sweetheart?” He’ll ask the unsuspecting girl at the bar.

The most frequent reply is “just your number,” which has definitely gotten old. He doesn’t actually give it out; he just takes them upstairs and gives them something better.

He’s a tender lover, always attentive to the needs of the woman he’s pleasuring. And the women are always satisfied.

Between the adoring nicknames and innate ability to make a woman cum three times before he cums himself, many girls begin hoping for something more than a one night stand. All of it offers them a false sense of the possibility of a relationship. Because how can a man be so sweet and not want something more?

Because Leo Campo is certain he’ll know the love of his life when he sees her. Maybe she walks into the bar, maybe he meets her while he’s coaching soccer.

Or, in your case, at your apartment where he’s delivering pizza.

If only you’d known how handsome the pizza delivery guy was going to be, you would’ve bothered to clean the smeared mascara from your eyes. You wouldn’t have answered the door with an oversized t shirt hanging off one of your shoulders, no bra to hold up your goods, and an old pair of sweatpants you’ve had since college.

“Oh my God,” slips out of your mouth. Your first instinct is to slam the door. Your tongue feels dry and your broken heart hasn’t forgotten how to hammer in your chest. Breakups happen every day. It’s okay that you look like a hot mess, minus the hot part.

You’ve ordered pizza from Vince’s dozens of times and that Jogi kid always delivers your pizza.

Who is this tall, dark-haired man with a smile that makes you think maybe you won’t feel miserable forever?

“How ya doin’?” He asks you, clearly not taking in any context clues as to how your night is going.

“Uh,” you begin unsurely. Are you really about to have a conversation with this guy in a pair of sweatpants with a guacamole stain on the right thigh? “I’ve been better. Hence the absolute atrocity standing before you.”

“Where?” He smiles without missing a beat. Because somewhere beneath your disheveled appearance, he sees a girl he desperately wants to get to know. Who broke your heart? And how does he mend it?

“I don’t suspect you have anyone to share this pizza with?”

“Not as of 8:16 this morning.” Yes, you know the exact minute you found your piece of shit ex-boyfriend cheating on you with his co-worker.

“Well, as of,” Leo checks his watch, “7:24 this evening, now you do.”

“You’re quite bold, aren’t you?”

“I suppose.”

“Aren’t you working?”

He shrugs. “It’s the end of my shift. Are you going to let me in?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Is this the beginning of a Dateline episode?”

This makes Leo chuckle. Of course you’re tentative. You’re an attractive, single woman who has no right trusting any man at all, let alone a random pizza delivery guy.

But there’s something about his smile that quells your anxiety. No ulterior motives, just genuine kindness.

“I can call my Ma, if you want,” Leo suggests half seriously. “You can talk to her and learn everything about me.”

Your bottom lip snags beneath your teeth as you open your door to let the handsome stranger in. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Leo.” He sets down your pizza on the coffee table. “Leo Campo.”

requests are open for leo and several other hayden characters!

anakin masterlist

#leo campo x reader #leo campo x you #leo campo fanfiction #leo campo #little italy movie #leo campo one shot #leo campo smut #leo campo imagine #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x you

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jiminrings · 4 months

Text

in vain aka sugar baby (but not really) jungkook drabble series sneak peek

pairing: jungkook x reader

glimpse: jungkook likes the finer things in life, and you don’t like being lonely.

alternatively, jungkook’s your sugar baby — except the only thing he needs to do to get paid is to be your friend.

“Nope. No sex at all. No kisses or hugs or anything like that.”

A sense of pride almost fills Jungkook, almost, when he sees Namjoon’s face fall and twist both in amazement and confusion. It’s not that Jungkook thinks he’s better — he already knows it himself. He feels proud to have proved Namjoon wrong when he said it to his face that absolutely no one would pay for his snotty personality.

“Then how come you’re her sugar baby?” Namjoon asks, his hunger for the pasta he ordered (and waited for twenty minutes to arrive) subsiding. He doesn’t get it at all, not one single bit of him believing that Jungkook landed a sugar mommy that simply just wants him to be there.

Jungkook shrugs as if it’s the easiest thing to answer, the arrogance flowing through him like the breeze that goes through the door when you open it. Namjoon’s eyes turn out of instinct and while he had paid no attention to you initially, he does now when you’re walking towards them and his friend can’t see to shut up.

“I’m just there for company. She’s just alone and weird, I guess.”

Namjoon nudges him to stay still and stop talking with everything he could muster in one simple shove to his side, his mumbling too quiet for someone as dense as Jungkook to understand.

“What did you say?” Jungkook asks out-loud as if it pains him to not turn every single thought in his head into a literal speech bubble, turning his head abruptly. He finds himself face-to-face with you, only hovering awkwardly after catching wind of what he just said.

Namjoon, however, doesn’t even seem to meet his eyes — neither does Jungkook with yours. He turns back to his friend without a single acknowledgement to you, continuing to run his mouth as if you weren’t there in the first place.

“What are you so worried for?” he furrows his brows, going back to his laptop as he types gibberish to make it seem like he’s doing something important. He’s not bothered — not at all. “Y/N already knows I don’t need her like that. I’m only after her money, not her.”

The lump that appears in your throat is automatic because Jungkook is like this and you know it. He’s bumped into your “friends” (the better term would be acquaintances-I’ve-made-emptily-out-of-social-obligation) a few times already and he’s never been this rash with you, yet the first time that you see him with his friend, he makes you feel the smallest that you’ve ever been.

“Oh my god, Jungkook. Watch your fucking manners,” Namjoon grits immediately, the lack of Jungkook’s respect for you and perhaps for everyone else grating his ears. He clears his throat and straightens himself, much to his friend’s annoyance, before putting his hand out. “H-hi. I’m Namjoon, Jungkook’s friend.”

“Hi, Namjoon,” you greet courteously, your embarrassment burning away the longer that you’re distracted from how Jungkook’s regard for you to your face and to everyone else is the same. He’s always been transparent with you, unable to sugarcoat his words.

Simply put, Jungkook doesn’t like you. He means it when he says it to you casually right after you crack a joke in the middle of watching a movie, and he means it when he’s talking behind your back to Namjoon.

“Why are you here?” Jungkook asks, the bored look on his face striking right through you. You feel alone again despite being in a café full of people; even when you’re faced with him.

“I was thinking we could maybe get dinner together?” you ask even if it takes up all the remaining courage in you, the majority of it consumed when you put an effort into dressing yourself up today — for him.

“Busy,” Jungkook huffs, resting his chin on his palm. He stays seated throughout while you’re just standing there, waiting to have a shred of significant acknowledgement. “Can I have some money to get dinner with Namjoon instead?”

You shouldn’t be surprised anymore, not at all. Because while Jungkook isn’t consistent on keeping his end of the bargain, you keep yours loyally. You don’t want to be at fault and the raving urge in you to always keep people appeased overtakes you.

“Oh,” you mumble in realization, fumbling to open your bag and fish for your wallet. “Y-yeah, yeah. Sure.”

On the other hand, Namjoon can’t resist any longer. He physically can’t contain himself anymore, the breath that he’s been holding finally giving out because he can’t bear to see you like this because of Jungkook.

“Actually, count me out,” he interjects, ignoring the offended gasp he gets. He turns to you much more gently compared to the vitriol he has for Jungkook. “Are you, uhm — do you still need someone to eat dinner with… Miss Y/N?” he asks politely, wringing his hands together underneath the table.

Your mouth dries at his address for you and even more at his politeness, the realization that Namjoon’s actually kind to you despite only meeting you minutes ago hitting you belatedly. “I-… I do, yeah. But you don’t have to-…”

“No, no! I insist,” he scrambles to get out of his seat, intentionally hitting Jungkook on the bicep as he slings his backpack on his shoulder. “Some people don’t do their jobs correctly and could be a total asshole at that.”

Jungkook scowls at what’s clearly the dig for him, his annoyance running deep when you stay frozen.

Deeper when you snap out of it and nod your head shyly, and the deepest when you actually leave him.

It seems like fate’s fucking with him because as much as he should feel elated that your weekly transfer to him comes in now of all times, he doesn’t at all. He feels bad and he doesn’t ever feel that way. He’s never been left before; not like this at the very least.

You whisper to Namjoon on the way out, the reminder that you were embarrassed in front of him and probably to the curious patrons in the café staying vivid in your mind. “I’ll pay you. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“You don’t have to at all, miss. I promise,” Namjoon assures you as he opens the door for you, the two of you waiting side by side as you wait for your driver to go around back. He respects you but he’s comfortable already; enough to open up out of the blue. “You know, I’ve had… a sugar mommy in the past. You’re Jungkook’s first and really, I apologize for how rude he is,” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. “You’re not making him jump through hoops or force him into doing things or anything like that. All you’re asking for is companionship — I’m sorry that he’s bad at it.”

It stays quiet between the two of you until you find the right words that won’t make you want to crumple to the pavement out of shame.

“You don’t have to apologize in behalf of him.”

“I feel like I need to,” he trails, an uneasy chuckle leaving him. “Jungkook doesn’t ever apologize for anything.”

“Oh.”

The knot in your throat untangled minutes ago but it comes back again, this time for less pitiful reasons. “You’re really nice, Namjoon. Please tell me if you ever need anything,” your breath hitches in fear of overstepping, yet you push through anyway. “I know you’re already familiar with this uhm, this situation — and I’m still sorry for asking-! But do you… need money?”

Namjoon laughs heartily, genuinely — not mockingly like how Jungkook does.

“Yes, I need money,” he confirms breathlessly in between chuckles, sneaking a smile from your lips. “But I’d much rather give you companionship for free. I bet you’re already blowing through money with Jungkook who doesn’t even say thank you for anything.”

“Jungkook’s my first sugar baby too,” you meekly counter, shrugging your shoulders. You feel oddly brave in a burst of energy, partially influenced by how Namjoon didn’t even skip a beat from preventing Jungkook to make an even bigger fool out of you. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with having two sugar babies right?”

Out of the entire time that Namjoon’s been with you, he’s actually speechless for once and not the other way around.

While Namjoon seriously considers your offer though, Jungkook stews in his own anger. It’s too potent and too irrational, he thinks it might be jealousy.

dun dun DUNNNNN!!! so far, there are five chapters of IV up :D if u wanna read them now + gain early access to general fics + read exclusive content — subscribe to my patreon :D

also, to get ahead of questions, i'm not yet sure if i'll also post in vain here on tumblr :O but IF i do though, it'll be around mid-2024!! :D

#sneak peek

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peroxiddeprincess · 1 year

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How The Call Of Duty : MWII Characters Would Act With a Bimbo Girlfriend (Fem!Reader)

Characters included — Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John Price, Phillip Graves, König

No descriptive NSFW — Just headcannons / imagines. NSFW implied for some characters.

NOT PROOFREAD!!!

Bimbo definition (in case you arent aware) — an attractive but unintelligent or frivolous young woman.

✭ Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

— Oh my god, would he be absolutely infatuated with you.

— You didn’t even have to do anything but stand there and he’d have hearts in his eyes.

— Maybe it was the outfits you wore, or the makeup you caked on your face, but nonetheless, everything you did was just so appealing to him.

— He’d always compliment your outfits, and he’d always notice the little things.

“Did you get new lipstick?” “Is that skirt new?”

— He made sure to take note of the things you wore aswell. Why? So he could buy you new stuff of course.

— He likes to do your makeup sometimes. Even if it looks like shit, you’ll wear it for the rest of the day anyway to let him know your appreciation.

— Colored hair isnt his thing, but you convinced him once to get blue hair with you. No regrets. You told him it made him sexier. Simon told him you two looked alike. Johnny felt weird about the way he worded that and didn’t talk to Simon for a few days after..

— You are his Facebook banner. Facebook because he’s such a dad, and you’re his banner because he likes showing you off to the 3 friends he has added. Gaz, Rudy, and Alejandro.

— As for the.. Slow part of being a bimbo, he’d have no problems attempting to explain or break down something you didnt quite understand.

— He isn’t the kind of guy to get frustrated when you dont understand something immediately either. He’ll try his best.

— You aren’t completely dumb though. You’ve taught him many things! And one of the most important things,

You taught him to love himself.

Bonus:

“Wow, babe. I love that outfit on you.” He sneaks behind you, making you jump. “Awe — Thank you, JoJo!” You clapped your hands together, the biggest smile on your face.

“I could compliment you for hours.” He says. “Could stare for hours.”

You spit your bubblegum out in the trashcan near you. “Go ahead.” You say, making his cheeks heat up.

He goes on and on with some of the weirdest — but cutest — compliments you’ve ever heard in your life. You didn’t even realize you were going to be late to your nail appointment.

No worries, though. You continued to let him compliment you. When he finally finished his rant, you smile big again.

“I wasn’t listening to a thing you were saying.” You giggle nervously. “Gimme more!” You beg. “You gonna listen this time?” He asks, smiling. “Probably not.” You admit.

“Oh, well. Thats okay. I’ve got many, many more things to say to you, love.” He continues on and on, knowing your attention span is short, but he doesn’t mind, not one bit.

What matters to him right now is that you’re so close, and he feels secure in your touch.

✭ Simon “Ghost” Riley

— He never usually thinks much about your appearance unless he catches someone eyeing you.

— “Wear whatever you want, i can fight.” Energy.

— Hes just gotten used to how you dress and present yourself. It’s not that he doesnt care, but he doesnt mind it anymore. You used to capture his attention with every move. You still do, but not because of your appearance, but because hes taken a liking (meaning, he somewhat tolerates you.) to you.

— He isnt one to feed into your presentation. He doesnt buy you clothes, but he’ll sometimes express his attraction to a certain outfit you’ve thrown together.

— Also, he gets very frustrated when you don’t understand what he’s trying to tell you. He won’t break it down for you, and wont apologize if he makes you cry out of frustration or pure sensitivity from how mad he gets.

— He isnt a yeller, but he makes it obvious that he cant keep the conversation going. He’ll ignore you and simply walk away.

— Not to mention, he doesn’t apologize. He’s never wrong in his mind. You’re just sensitive and take his words the wrong way.

— But anyway, of course he cares about you. He has a horrible way of showing it. He wouldnt be able to “love” you properly due the narcissistic way his mind works, but even then, he still wants to protect you somewhat.

— Also, he wont go out of his way to let anyone know you two are dating, either. You’ll have to spill the beans. He’ll just nod, and most likely walk away to avoid questions.

Bonus:

“What is that?” You ask, pointing to the big gun in his hand. “..A gun? Are you stupid, or something?”

You pouted at the mean words. “I know its a gun, what kind of gun? Why is it so big?”

He doesnt say anything, choosing to ignore you as he walks away. “Simonnn.” You call. Silence. Other than the heavy footsteps from his boots.

You sit there on the couch, blinking back tears to avoid your fake lashes from falling off and your mascara running down your cheeks.

Soon enough, he’s standing in front of you, holding out a pamphlet. You’re confused. “What?” You ask, looking up at him. “It’s a book.” He says, stating the obvious. “..About guns. The big ones.” He cringes saying it, feeling like a complete loser at how he needs to speak to you for you to understand.

His awkwardness quickly fades as you enthusiastically take the book from him, flipping through the pages. He sits down next to you and watches you analyze the page you were on.

“Ooh! Tell me more about this one.” He looks at you like you’re crazy, but gives in with a heavy huff and starts pointing out parts of the gun, explaining what they do and what they’re called.

You couldn’t focus on what he was saying, his deep voice thick and sultry in your ears.

“…Could you repeat that?” You ask, and his eyebrow cocks up. “What part?”

“…All of it.” You say nervously, avoiding eye contact. He sighs and gives in, repeating everything he just told you.

You weren’t focused this time either, but you felt like this was quality time, so you pretended to understand what he was saying.

You thought you had convinced him, but he knew you weren’t paying attention. He didn’t care much anymore, continuing to talk, not wanting to admit that maybe he didnt mind having you this close to him. Even if having to repeat himself alot was getting annoying.

✭ Alejandro Vargas

— He would absolutely love your style. Would eat it up every single time.

— Would show you off. Loves how you two are complete opposites. He’d brag about you to anyone willing to listen.

— When you two got the chance to be alone, he’d hold your waist and feel your body through the thin fabric.

— He was always very expressive about how much he adores the way you pamper yourself. You always giggle and tell him its just for him. He smiles.

— Once he almost broke a bone trying on a pair of your platforms. Never again.

— You also managed to get fake lashes and lipstick on him. You took so many pictures. He was very embarrassed.

— He understands that you need time to learn things. He gets frustrated of course, but we cant blame him, he’s only human.

— He tries to make you feel like the most brilliant person on earth, even if sometimes it’s a bit.. hard.

— Once you asked him, “Why do you wear so much gear?” And he replied, “Well, it’s important.” And tried to explain it to you. You couldn’t quite grasp the fact that he needed it, and kept telling him he should show off his body because he was sexy. He took the compliment ans dropped the conversation, you were too cute to argue with.

— You guys do have your arguments of course. He’s more patient than you’d think, though. He’ll give you space.

— After that, you two are all over eachother again. He loves you. Even if you don’t quite understand his job. or many things, for that matter.

Bonus:

“I tried to cook you something,” You started, “But it didn’t end very well.”

He pinched his nose at the foul smell of something burning. “I cleaned it up..” You smile awkwardly. “..For the most part.”

“For the most part?” He questions, walking into the kitchen. It became obvious what you meant. The bottom of the skillet had thick, black burnt material all over it. You tried to scrub it off but gave up. There was also some splatter on the stove.

He smiles a bit, looking back at you. “You know what?” He asks, and you hum. “I’ll clean this up.. You go do whatever else you need to do, as long as it doesnt involve household chores.” You frowned. “But.. I wanna help!”

He tried to get you to go elsewhere, but you werent budging. He sighs, accepting his fate…

He ended up letting you help. But he was standing so close you could hear his breathing, and his heart pumping, guiding you through how to properly scrub a burnt pan. You were focused on his hands the whole time.

✭ Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

— He was very open about his attraction to you and your style. Not often open to others, but open to you for sure.

— He often made jokes, which sometimes you’d end up taking too serious, and he’d have to comfort you and reassure you that he didn’t mean it.

— He knew he didn’t mean it, but sometimes, you just didn’t quite understand…

— He’s always boasting about how beautiful you look to him when he comes home to you, or when you send him a picture of yourself.

— It became habit to show him your makeup and outfit everyday, and he’d devour you completely with his eyes.

— Sometimes, if you forget, you’ll stay up until 4 a.m. perfecting your appearance just to show him.

— Usually he’s concerned you’re up so late, but your pretty face is worth it.

— Your face is his lock screen. And wallpaper.. And everything else he could put your face on…

— He gets questions about you all the time but brushes it off. Nobody needs to know about you but him, after all.

— Occasionally, if he’s feeling talkative, he’ll talk about you and sometimes even show you off.

— Alejandro overheard a phone call between you two, and was very confused when he had to repeat himself, just word his sentences differently.

— He loves you dearly and doesnt mind explaining things to you. He likes listening to you talk, and he likes your face when a light bulb moment goes off in your head. He thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

— Also, he’s a very attentive lover, and will make sure you’re safe and know what you’re doing. Definitely texts you every chance he gets when he knows you’re out.

Bonus:

He was driving, and Alejandro pointed out his lock screen as a notification came through.

“Who’s that?” He asks. Rudy hesitates. “..My girlfriend.”

Alejandro pretends to be stabbed in the chest. “My heart! For you have wounded me!”

Rudy chuckles nervously. Alejandro straightens up. “So.. Girlfriend, huh?” He asks. Rudy’s phone starts ringing.

Speak of the devil… He thinks. He picks up the phone, and your sweet voice comes through. “Hey babyyy!” He could tell you were smiling.

“What’s up?” He says, speaking quietly in the presence of Alejandro. “I sent you a picture of my new nails.. But i figured you were driving. Can you atleast look..?” He could tell your smile faded into a pout.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.”

“Yay! Thank you! I love youu.” You say, before hanging up. He pulls up your messages, looking at the picture of your nails and sighing before typing, ‘Beautiful, just like you.’

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger, aye?”

Rudy quickly slams his phone down, looking through the windsheild.

“Sí”

✭ Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

— You are definitely his type. He can’t imagine himself with anyone else.

— He likes to pick you up and twirl you around, mostly because of the skirts you wear. You’ve told him it makes you feel like a ballerina.

— He definitely feeds into your perfume collection. You bring home a big bag of perfumes and body sprays and make him smell them and pick out his favorites.

— He’s also the guy to jokingly tell you to get his tip color on your nails because he saw someone else say it and thought it was the funniest thing ever, but then is surprised when you actually do it.

— It started with a, “Hey baby, like my nails?” And you gracefully wiggling your fingers in his face. Of course he says yes, but when it finally processes what exactly it’s depicting, his eyes are wide. He’s giddy.

— It’s definitely taken him time to adjust to your humor. You find some of the dumbest things funny. He doesnt quite understand, but when you laugh, he laughs aswell. You’re adorable, how could he not?

— He’s definitely very supportive of you dying your hair crazy colors. Sometimes you get bored and wanna put some pink in there! If you wear wig installs, he will buy them for you. He’s actually quite good at installing them aswell. 40 youtube tutorials later…

— If you have piercings, he’s totally into that too! He even encourages you to get new ones.

— He doesnt mind your processing speed or lack of basic knowledge either. He finds it enticing that he has to help you out. Maybe he just likes the excuse to spend more time with you.

Bonus:

You two were watching TV on the couch together, he was stuffing popcorn in his face and you were very interested in the dramatic romance going on in the film.

Suddenly, a kissing scene comes on. His first instinct is to cover your eyes, and you start laughing. “What was that for?” You ask through your giggles.

He starts to laugh with you. “Instincts kicked in. My bad, my bad. Continue on.”

He shovels the popcorn in his mouth again and you cant stop laughing at how stupid but funny the interaction was.

“What’s funny?” He asks, grin on his face as the grease from the popcorn surrounds his lips. “You. You’re funny.” He rolls his eyes at your response.

“Just continue watching those two tongue eachother and leave me be.” He says, crunching resuming. You laugh again, and he laughs with you so hard that popcorn almost came out of his nose. You shove him away when he chokes a bit, still laughing. “Ew! Stop laughing, you’re gonna barf!” He pushes you back against the couch and starts tickling your sides.

You kick at him, thrashing a bit at the sensation. Your laughter only grew. “Stop it, now i’m gonna barf!” You giggle.

“Didn’t wanna barf alone.” He says, placing a buttery kiss to your cheek. You wipe it off and wipe it on his face.

He doesnt even care, staring into your eyes with the biggest smile on his face.

✭ John Price

— Definitely an old soul. Wasn’t into the way you displayed your body, but he eased into it as he fell deep into loves trap.

— His more traditional ways slowly died down after dating you. He couldn’t help his past mindset, it’s just how he was raised.

— He’s definitely all about paying for your hair, nails, clothes, makeup, and anything else you want.

— He taught you how to cook. It was definitely tough, but he’s a decent cook and had no problem passing it down to you.

— Admittedly, however, he does get very, very frustrated with you.

— Sometimes he has to walk away to calm himself down after a particularly rough interaction. He’s talked to you about this, and you’ve gotten used to it. You don’t have many problems with it now. Just hurts your heart a bit.

— But-! He always makes sure to comfort you afterward. He’s reassuring, telling you he’s sorry and he just needed a moment. He also is sure to ask you if you’d like to continue the conversation or move on.

— Sometimes you say you’d like to continue so you could push his buttons a bit more, but only if you’re extra frustrated with him.

— He also loves when you explain stuff to him he doesn’t understand! Ramble about makeup and clothes for hours! He takes good mental notes.

— He definitely loves you. Alot. He even describes you as his soulmate to his peers. He always manages to push past the frustration, and continues loving you no matter what.

Bonus:

You were applying your lipstick, lips parted and face shoved in the mirror.

“Darlin’?” Your boyfriend says, coming up behind you and examining what you’re doing. You turn around, smile painting your face. “Ah! Hii!” You exclaim. He smiles.

“Whatcha’ doin’?” He questions, head cocking. “Just finishing up my makeup. You like?” You ask. He gives an affirming nod. “You look absolutely ravishing.” You blush at the compliment.

“What’s this do?” He asks, picking up your mascara. You beam. “Mascara! Makes my eyelashes long and full.” You bat your eyes up at him prettily.

Your reaction urkes him to press further. “Oh yeah? What’s this?” He picks up one of your favorite eyeshadow pallets.

“Eyeshadow.” Your eyes close, allowing him to examine the masterpiece that painted your eyes. “Very nice.. Whats this?” He picks up your concealer. “Concealer! Hides all my flaws.” You giggle.

He cocks his head. “Impossible.” “Hm?” He smiles. “You have no flaws. Nothing to cover.” You blush, looking away nervously before looking back up to him with a heartfelt smile. “I love you.” You muse. “I love you more.”

This quickly turned into a battle of who loves eachother more, but he ended up letting you win just to see you get really happy.

✭ Phillip Graves

— Is absolutely obsessed with you and the way you look. Always has something to say about it.

— This man can never shut up about you!! You’re too perfect. Unfortunately for the other fellas’, you’re all his, and he makes that point very clear.

— You once mentioned matching tattoos and he was beaming with excitement. Absolutely ecstatic. He said yes about a hundred times.

— He helps you with everything. Money? Clothes? Food? Makeup? Bills? All the above, baby.

— You’re so special to him. He feels like his job is to talke care of all of your needs and wants, no matter how outrageous. He doesn’t want you to lift a finger. No job for you! Live in your lush lavish provided by your dear boyfriend.

— Once you had him take a look at the Adam & Eve website, and he bought you everything you clicked on to look at, whether it was lingerie or a toy.

— Definitely one of the most surprising packages to show up on your doorstep. Did you put all of the lingerie on and take a mini photo shoot for him? Oh, without a doubt.

— He does tend to get frustrated with you sometimes, though. Your relationship is 99% happy stars and rainbows and kittens, but the remaining 1% is how crazy you drive him sometimes.

— You don’t get something? Okay, he’ll send you an article about it. Don’t wanna read all that? He’ll break it down. Don’t understand how to do something? No more questions asked, he’s already doing it for you.

— There have been a few times where he’s let a few dull insults slip past his lips during arguments, telling you he does everything because you can’t. Later though, he realizes that was definitely wrong to say and it’s his fault for doing everything for you. You’re just his spoiled princess.

— That’s how he wants it to be, though. You’ll be his pampered little lover for the rest of eternity. Whether you like it or not. He’s never letting you go.

Bonus:

You’re lugging a box full of new shoes and accessories into your house, when all of a sudden your boyfriend comes from behind you and lifts it without a struggle.

“Oh, thank you!” You bat your pretty eyes at him as he sets the box down. “Of course, pretty.” He walks over to you, engulfing you in a hug.

“You’re gonna mess up my makeupppp!” You protest. “Awe, i’m sorry baby.” He pulls away, giving a fake pout.

You hesitate. “..W-wait. Come back.” You say. “And why should i?” He interrogates. “Because you love me.”

He smiles, and you reciprocate. “Can’t argue with that, can i?” His arms make their way around your waist again. “What about your makeup, hmm? Wouldnt wanna mess all your hard work up.” He teases, hands resting on your hips.

“I’ll just fix it later. Hug me. Please?” You beg, and of course, he gives in. He squeezes you tight. “Don’t bother. I’ll just end up ruining it later too.” He says, and your eyes blow wide.

“Phillip Graves! Not until marriage!” You joke, laughing and pushing him away. He laughs aswell. “I mean, i can already consider you as my wife. Been together forever, and you aren’t going anywhere.” He promises. Your cheeks heat up. “..Yeah?” “Yeah, princess. Mine.”

He starts to place little teasing kisses on your neck, and you giggle.

✭ König

— You make him so nervous. Your appearance just adds to it.

— Truly believes he doesn’t deserve someone as beautiful as you. You’re also complete opposites. You’re very outgoing where he tends to be timid and shy.

— Very bad self esteem, but believes everyone seeing him with such a babe will make people think higher of him.

— Of course this isn’t the only reason he’s with you!! He really, really likes you. And he hopes you feel the same way, he’s quite the overthinker.

— You’re entire world may revolve around your appearance for the most part, but you’re very good at comforting him. He greatly appreciates it.

— When you two are alone, he eases up and starts to become quite the chatterbox. Complimenting you, holding you in his arms while chatting up a storm, telling you anything and everything on his mind.

— He expresses that you’re perfect in his eyes. He loves you, which also means he absolutely adores everything about you. If you’re insecure, he throws in more compliments on the specific thing you’re insecure about.

“You’re beautiful. All of you.” “I love the way your body looks in that outfit.. Frames your perfect figure so well.”

— Random thing he likes - he loves giving you piggyback rides. Seeing the world from is point of view is so flabbergasting to you, no matter what! You always point out how tall he is. Makes him blush everytime.

— He’s never gotten frustrated with you. He understands how it feels to be bullied for being slow or “stupid”. He’s sure to reassure you that you’re none of those things, and everyone learns stuff differently!

— He’s very excited everytime you ask him to help you. He’ll do whatever he can to the best of his ability! Always assures you that you can count on him.

— He loves everything about you. I’ve said this before, but he truly does. Everything. You’re perfect.

— Eventually the insecurities fade, and he opens up. He’s so happy around you. He loves you so, so much. He still refuses to believe you’re his.

Bonus:

It finally snowed! You were super excited. You threw on one of your boyfriends way too big sweaters and some thermal tights with a pretty little skirt and some boots and made your way outside.

König follows behind once he realizes where you’ve gone. He’s worried you might get cold, but you’re quick to tell him you feel fine!

You throw a snowball at him, and he picks you up, twirling you around. “Oh no you don’t.” He says, holding you close. You giggle and squirm. “Nooo! Let me throw snowballs at you!!” You smile.

“How about instead of being violent with me, we build a snowman together?” He suggests, and you nod enthusiastically. You both begin to build the snowman, and he runs inside to grab a carrot for the nose and some chocolate for the buttons and eyes. (He couldn’t find coal.)

You both quickly decorate your snowman, and then you lean against him in content. “I may not be the smartest sometimes, but i can build a damn good snowman.”

“Hey! You’re smart. Intelligent, even.” He argues, making you laugh. “Thank you, baby.” You beam. His face flushes deeper than it already was.

“I love you so much.” He instantly curls in on himself after saying that, but quickly looking down at you as you reciprocate. “I love you more.” He picks you up and carries you inside, hugging you for “extra warmth”

C.C. - peroxiddeprincess 2022. NO REPOSTS. reblogs appreciated!

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anemptypuddingcup · 5 months

Text

Don’t be a sissy, Sanji!

Sanji x Female Reader.

Goodness I hope this doesn’t bother you. I decided to write Sanji having a whole female outfit to just…add the whole pizzazz to the sissyfication.

The person who requested me asked me to keep their identity hidden which is fine, they’re of age to request this. I had fun writing this so I hope you enjoy reading it!

Dividers -> cafekitsune. Ima just make a tag to credit them, they make some good ass dividers.

Contains: Not technically dark but be wary of the contents. not much context. Porn w/out plot. Sorta forced sissyfication and/or feminization towards Sanji. Sanji in a cute cardigan outfit w a skirt. Sanji wearing makeup and nail polish. Sanji wearing a matching bra and panties. (Yes I’m throwing in the whole package, I’m going out w this one.) Sanji’s a switch in this one thought to give it a huge contrast w his situation. He acts a bit subby but you could say he’s a switch. Sanji occasionally being called a woman or girl. Sanji begging- Play with anal beads. Sanji getting his cock sucked~ Lotus to Missionary. Cowgirl. Sir back n’ relax, this is a long fic.

“Come on Sanji, I wanna see~”

“I look ridiculous…why do I have to wear this again sweetie?”

“Well- because you said you’d do anything for me and try anything with me inside the bedroom.”

“But I didn’t think you would ask me to dress like this! There’s no way anyone else can see me like this.”

“No one’s going to see you like this sweetie pie, no one but me~”

Sanji peeks out the door and peers down at you, his pink eyeshadow, eyeliner and mascara immediately a difference standing out than his original look. His brows were furrowed as he gave you a nervous look with his crystal blue eyes, he absolutely hated this entire idea overall. You out of all people knew that he wasn’t a man for dress-up, especially since he was married to you, a woman. It definitely threw him in for a loop when you asked him politely to dress up like a doll for him.

What stunned him more are the clothes and undergarments you bought for him for the occasion. If you had bought something for him it was obvious that you had planned this beforehand, way before you started talking to him about it. Your eyes flutter as you looked at his upper face and a sweet smile appears across your face. “Let me see my adorable little man~ Or should I say…my pretty little lady~” Your words make Sanji’s eyes widen and he pulls back in before shutting the door, leaving back outside the bathroom.

“Oh! Don’t say that please sweetie! You’re making me feel worse than I already do!” Sanji whimpers behind the door, making you sigh out lovingly. “Come on Sanji baby, I promise you won’t have to do this anymore, but you have to try it.” You tell him, knocking softly on the bathroom door. You hear Sanji sighing heavily before he slowly steps out of the bathroom, revealing himself to you. You smile sweetly as you scanned his body.

The pretty makeup caked up on his face.

The cute collared shirt, cardigan & skirt combo.

The fuzzy thigh-highs hugging his thighs.

The shimmery pink nail polish glimmering on his fingernails.

He looked so beautiful. Pretty enough to eat up.

“You’re so beautiful Sanji~ Oh my goodness you’re so beautiful~” You compliment him, moving in closer to him and giving him a hug. Sanji shuddered against you and your bury your face deep against his chest, catching the whiff of a sweet scent of perfume. God he’d made sure to do everything right for you, you couldn’t have been more impressed with him and his little attempt at dress up. Sanji lets out a little whimper and you look back up at him, his eyes glistening as he looked down at you.

“I-I’m beautiful huh…?” He asked, a little chuckle leaving him as he felt his heart pounding from his chest. You nodded and grab his soft manicured hands before guiding him over to your shared and well-made bed. You had made sure to accommodate to Sanji before and after your little agreement, anything that he wanted you’d provide him before the event and after the event.

Sanji looked over at your nightstand and saw anal beads along with a bottle of lube, which made him shudder and tremble at the thought. “U-Um…Sweetie? Are you going to use those on me?” He asked you, quirking a brow to you while looking at you nervously. You nodded to him and pull him onto the the bed. “Yes I am~ I promise this is the only time I’ll do it Sanji. And who knows, you might enjoy it~” You whisper to him. “I cannot think of any reason to like dressing up as a woman.” Sanji interjects firmly, looking at the sleeves hanging from his wrists.

“Not that, I mean the toys silly.” You giggle to him. “Why would I like something being shoved up my ass!? I’m supposed to be doing the fucking not the one getting fucked baby…” He sighs out, pressing a hand to his head. You press your lips against his glossy ones, the sweet taste of strawberries landing onto your lips as you did. “Just relax Sanji. Relax and let me do the work okay? You don’t have to do anything if it makes you feel this uneasy~” You giggle to him, pressing him down against the fluffy bedding.

Sanji lies back against the fluffy pillows and sighs out before looking up at you, fluttering his pretty lashes as he watches you climb on top of him. You straddle Sanji and lean down to him, pressing your lips against his before full on making out with him. He hums out in pleasure as he kisses you passionately, seemingly needy for your touch and your lips. His polished fingers gripping your pretty pink bra straps and pulling you deeper into his glossy strawberry-coated lips.

“Mmm!~ M-Mmgh~” Sanji huffs out against your lips before he pulls back, a string of saliva appearing on both of your beautiful lips. You cup Sanji’s face and pull him in closer to you, keeping his lips smushed up against yours. You felt him squirm beneath you, bending his legs and allow air to flow up through his skirt and his panties. He shivered as he felt his tip poking out of his panties, rubbing up against the fabric of his skirt.

“A-Ah~ Mmgh~ I-It feels so weird~” Sanji sighs out shakily, his pretty sapphire eyes rolling up as he felt his tip press up against his own inner thigh. The warmth of his hot cock made his own body shiver and you began to notice how…interested Sanji seemed to be.

You giggle against his lips and finally pull away from them, sliding your tongue along his them as you grind up against Sanji’s cock beneath the skirt. He sighs out shakily, closing his eyes softly while you begin to reach out for the lube and anal beads. Feeling you move, Sanji peeks but suddenly opens his eyes wide as he got a glimpse of the anal beads in your hand. He shook his head and backed away, pressing his body higher up against the headboard.

“Come on Sanji baby, I have lube so they can slip in oh so easily for you baby~” You whisper out to him, giggling as you showed him the bottle of strawberry lube. Sanji shuddered against you before sighing out. “I-I don’t want them inside of me…” He whimpers out, pushing you back a bit to lift his skirt. His movements contradicting his words. You giggled as you watched him pull up his skirt and spread his legs, revealing & moving his cute pink panties out of the way.

“Aw you’re too cute Sanji, but I thought you didn’t want to play with the toys..” You snicker to him. He flutters his lashes and looks away, his shimmering pink eye shadow popping with the color of his sapphire eyes. “J-Just- Just try it already…” He sighs out to you, his cock still poking out past the hem of his panties. You giggle and pour some of the lube out onto you hand, running it along your fingers before pressing your lukewarm hand against his ass.

He shudders as he watches you run your fingers along his rear entrance, your voice soothing him as he felt you slide two digits into him. He gasps out and shudders, his walls tight around your fingers as he feels them go deep inside of him. “Ah~ A-Ah! G-Gentle please l-love~” Sanji huffs you, his hands gripping his cardigan tight while he arches his back. “Just relax for me baby, I’m loosening you up~” You whisper out to him, your eyes glimpsing at his pretty ones.

He nods as he bites his lower lip a bit tight, his hand reaching down to stroke at his cock. You smile as you watch him jerk his cock in front of you, a heavy yet sudden gasp leaving his lips as your fingertips press softly against his prostate. “T-That- That feels so good~ A-Ah~” Sanji huffs out, his curly brows furrowing as his toes begin to curl within his thigh-highs. You pull your fingers from inside of him, and he whimpers out in slight irritation.

He continued to fuck his fist but suddenly stops and yelps out it as he felt you insert a single bead inside of him.

First one.

And then the next one.

And the next one-

All the way to the last one.

You pull away and move his skirt out of the way, a whine escaping his lips as he felt himself feeling a bit…full.

“Hah~ L-Love-“

“Sit up for me Sanji~”

He groans as you helped him sit up, his body shuddering while moans left him as he felt the beads move around within his ass. “I-It feels- I-It feels so odd~” Sanji mewls out, arching his back as he sat there against the bed. You press a smooch to his neck and suckle on his skin, making him moan out shakily. He presses his hands up against your breasts, groping them as he pressed his lips against yours. He didn’t know what to do with himself, not with these beads deep inside of him.

He wraps his arms around you, whines spilling from his lips as he pulls you closer to him. “Mmh~ Sanji~” You mewl out, wrapping your legs around his hips and pressing your breasts up against his chest. You giggle as you felt his bra beneath his collared white shirt, it felt more like a soft little bra up against his chest. Sanji whimpers out as a deep blush dusts his cheeks, realizing that he was starting to fall into character, the entire act was getting to him. He turns away, huffing out heavily as he lies his head against your breasts. “I’m getting too into character…” He sighs out, his hands holding your hips tightly. You chuckled and run your fingers through his silky blonde hair.

“And that’s okay Sanji~ You’re beautiful like this just like my precious woman~” You whisper to him, pressing a smooch to his jaw.

Sanji felt his heart pound from slight embarrassment and yet flattery, why was he getting so worked up about this? He shouldn’t be playing into character like this.

You smooch him once again before moving down to his hardened cock. “Want me to suck your cock? Would that make you feel better about this baby?” You asked him, lifting his skirt back up. He sighs but nods slowly, his cold and soft hands pulling the hemp of his panties down. You smile softly as you watch his cock prod up slightly and press a smooch to his tip before sliding your tongue along his shaft. His lips quivering as he felt you smooching along his length.

“Ahh~ Ah~ So good love~” He moans out, pressing his hand up against your soft strands. He lays his thighs up against your shoulders, the fluffy thigh-highs rubbing up against your soft skin. You lower your head onto his cock, suckling and sliding your tongue along his shaft. You took it slow, taking in all of his length until his tip touched the back of your throat. Sanji was gasping and sighing out in please, his eyes shutting tight as he arches his back.

“Oh god love~ Mmmgh~ Fuck that feels so good~ Oh goodness~” He whimpers out, rolling his hips against your mouth. You mewl out, your hands gripping his hips while you play with the hem of his pretty panties. His eyes began to brew with tears, nearly making his mascara run as his hand grips your strands. You moan out, bobbing your head slowly but taking his cock deep down your throat. “S-So warm~ Mmgh!~ Hah~ J-Just like that~ P-Please!~” Sanji begs, clenching his teeth tight as he felt your warm throat take in his cock so wonderfully.

You moan out softly, your brows furling as you lay Sanji back against the fluffy pillows. He whines out as he watched you move in more, taking his cock a little more until you had reached the base. Sanji’s hand reaches out and gets a grasp on your hair, pulling slightly as while his cock twitch against your tongue. “I-I’m close love! I-I’m so close!~” Sanji mewls, shutting his pretty eyes tight as he bit his bottom lip a bit more. You hum out but you don’t stop, trying your best to pull your orgasm from him.

He huffs and gasps out, his thighs hugging your face a bit tight as he closes them. The soft and fuzzy thigh highs tickle your face as you grab onto his hips, huffing out as you struggled to breathe. “R-Right there!~ I-I’m almost there!~” Sanji sits up and arches his back, gasping out while his face scrunches up with pleasure. You whine out, your nails scratching against his hips and hoping that he would cum deep down your throat already.

Gripping your hair a bit tighter, you mewl out and whimper around his cock. Your jaw was starting to get sore and your throat was begging to grow sore as well. “Hah! I-I’m cumming!~ I’m- A-AH!~” Sanji pulls your head down his cock farther as his toes curls within the stockings, his slightly salty seed running down your throat with ease yet making it unbearable to bear the strong flavor.

He finally releases his legs and you quickly pull your head back, a few coughs leaving you as you inhale deeply. Sanji plops back onto the pillows, breathing heavily as he began to hyperventilate a bit. “A-Ah…Hah…I-I’m sorry love…” He whimpers out, a bit unable to sit up. You slowly rise to your knees and stare down at him with slightly dark eyes, a little pout falling onto your face. “I couldn’t breathe Sanjiii…” You huffed, staring down at him.

He slowly sits up, his hair a bit disheveled as he props himself up against the headboard. “I-I’m sorry…I got carried away~” He continuously apologizes, sitting up and wrapping his arms around you. His hands cups your face, his lashes fluttering to you once again as he pouted to you. “D-Did I hurt you..?” He asked worriedly, his sapphire eyes glistening as he stared down at you. You sigh out lovingly and wrap your arms around him before gasping out suddenly.

He pulls you onto his lap and lifts his skirt, moving his panties out of the way while his cock twitches in the air. He was still hard and throbbing against you although you were excited and just ready to fuck him. “Here, take your time~” He says, giving you a sweet and cute little smile.

He was starting to look more like a woman the more you stared at him with his makeup on…

You slowly spread your pussy open for him, allowing him to press his tip against your entrance before slowly sliding in. You moan out as you felt him fill you up quickly, your walls tightening around him and sucking him in. “So good~ You feel so wonderful as always baby~” He moans out, moving his pretty face in closer to yours. His brows begins to furrow once again as he moves you up and down on his cock, his soft and silky fingers tampering with the beautiful lace of your lingerie.

You hum out softly, pressing your lips against his sweetened strawberry ones so lovingly again. His nails scratch along your hips, his face twisting up as he kept you close against him. He lies you down against the soft bedding below and begins thrusting up into you, his soft cardigan and skirt squeezing up against your body. You pull his shirt open, revealing his pretty bra to you while he mewls out.

“Mmgh! D-Don’t peek at them!~” He gasps out, a deep blush dusting his cheeks while you stared down at his chest. You giggled to him and press your face up against his chest, his skin warm and slightly sticky against your cheek. He continues to rut into you, huffing out into your ear while keeping you close against his chest. “Hah~ L-Love~ Y-Your pussy is so fucking good~” Sanji’s lips trembled as he pulls your legs around his waist, his moans growing louder as he moves his hips a bit faster against yours.

You moan out beneath him, wrapping your arms tight around his body, his back arching as he felt your fingers trail up his back beneath his shirt. One of his hands gripped the sheets beneath you while the other held on to your hip so tight, his facial features contorted with pleasure and lust. “Sanji~” You moan at his name beneath him, his legs pulling his hips and closer against yours. He whimpers out and his eyes trails down to your breasts before he buries his face in them.

“Mmh~ I-I want to cum~ I wanna cum so badly~ Your pussy keeps sucking me in so wonderfully that I can’t p-pull away.” He whimpers out, his fingers trailing along your soft skin. You gasp against him, your walls tightening around his length as you pulled him closer to you. Your nails scratch along the soft skin of his back and he gasps out into your breasts before looking back up at you.

“M-May I cum?~ I-I need to cum baby~” Sanji asks sweetly, his eyes pouting up at you while he whispers softly while giving you more shallow thrusts. You smile up at him, your eyes half kisses as you stared at the pretty details of his face. “Please…? I want to cum~ Cum deep inside of your sweet and warm pussy~ Please love please?~” Sanji begs to you, his thrusts still going deep yet fast into your cunt. You huff out while your brows furrow, biting your lower lip softly as your toes curl working your knee-highs.

“My sweet baby girl~ Yes you can cum~ Make sure you cum deep inside of me too~” You mewled, hugging him tight and pulling him close. He gasps out and whimpers as he hears you call him a woman once again. He can’t help but to lay his head against your breasts and obey, gaining his permission to cum. “M-Mhmm~ I-I will!~” He huffs out in a sweeter tone, a bit of drool spilling from his lips and onto your chest.

You lay and hand to his head as he mewls and moans out, lifting your legs a bit higher to get a better angle. You lie back against the soft sheets below and moan out as he fucks your pussy with a sweet yet harsher momentum. You whine out and squirm a bit underneath him as you felt him kissing your cervix, your eyes shutting tight as you finally felt yourself ready to release.

“Ah~ I-I’m cumming~ I-I’m going to cum!~” Sanji gasps out, rutting his hips deep into yours while shutting his eyes tight. “Mmh! S-Sanji!~ Sanji!~” You moan out Sanji’s name and arch your back, gasping out as you finally release and cum on his length. You squirt out onto his lower abdomen, getting a bit onto his skirt and his panties. Sanji’s body shudders above yours as he whines out, his cock twitching deep within your cunt as he was finally ready to release deep inside of you.

“Mmgh! A-Ah!~ Ah I’m cumming l-love!~” He gasps out, his curly-brows finally unfurling as he fills you up with his seed. His seed coat your gummy walls in a pretty white and you could feel the warmth of his cum filling up your lower tummy. You mewl out softly and wrap your hands around his neck before pulling him close to you. He blinks softly and slowly before smiling and pressing a smooch to your lips.

“S-So warm~” Sanji says softly, his fingers sliding along your hot skin. You hum out before sitting up, softly pushing him down back against the bed. He looks down at you, quirking a curly brow as he wondered what you’ll do next. “Mind if I ride you baby?~” You asked, looking down at him with soft and sweet eyes. He smiles and nods, opening his arms out to you and pulling you into his embrace.

“Please do~” He hums, still breathing a bit heavy as he was still recovering and gaining his breath back.

You smile and straddle him, sliding your sticky cum-filled pussy against his long and hot length. Sanji mewls out softly, his hands soft up against your hips as he guides you. “Mmh~ P-Please put it in~ I-I want m-more~” Sanji pouts, not really wanting to be teased at the moment. You giggle and lift your hips, allowing Sanji to help position his cock for you. You slowly lower yourself on his length and you both groan out softly, your toes curled once you feel his tip kissing your cervix once again.

Sanji presses his hands back to your hips but you move them, pressing your hands to his bra and up against his chest to gain a bit of balance. “Just watch baby~ You don’t have to help me~” You whisper to him. He pouts but nods, moving his cardigan sleeve up to his lips as he watched you begin to move his hips. He lies there adorably, his eyes fluttering slowly as he stared at your push sucking his cock deep inside.

You moan out against him, staring at his pretty little face while you begin to bounce on his cock a bit. His moans were soft yet vocal as he sat there with his hands to his mouth, like the adorable little woman he was. He was so precious, it was hard to keep yourself composed when he was deep into pussy and into his character. His mewls were starting to grow a bit higher and he was beginning to arch his back a bit more.

While he was more distracted in the pleasure, you reach your hand behind yourself and past his panties. Feeling you grab the anal beads makes him jolt and shoot his head up to you. “I’m gonna take them out Sanji~” You whisper to him, moving in before pressing a smooch to his lips. “S-Slowly please l-love~ G-GENTLY!-“

He suddenly gasps out as he begins to feel you pull the beads out in one swift motion. He throws his head back as he eyes rolls from the pleasure of the beads being removed.

“MMMH!~ O-OH GOD!~” He shudders and grips your hips tightly, making him gasp and whine out while his legs thrash around in pleasure. “I-I’M CUMMING!~ H-HAH!~” He whines out as his ass clenches around nothing but air, struggling to keep his orgasm back for you. “Hold it in for me Sanji~ Don’t cum just yet sweetie~” You mewl out above him and lower your head to press a smooch to his temple. He grabs your face and pull your lips to his, whining out into them as you felt his body trembling.

“P-Please! I-I can’t hold this back much longer!~ I-I NEED TO CUM H-HONEY!~” Sanji whines out, thrashing around as his cock begins to twitch deep inside of you. You mewl and gasp out as you watch Sanji reach out and wrap his arms around your body, pulling you close to him while he struggles to keep himself together. “S-Sanji!~” You whine out his name, not bothering to stop your hips as he held on tight to you.

He rests his head against breasts once again, gasping out as he felt himself just ready to cum deep inside of you once again. “Baby I-I can’t hold it in much longer~ P-Please let me c-cum~ I want to cum so badly~” He huffs out into your breasts, begging desperately to just release in your pussy. You found his face so fucking cute, it was already wonderful to see him begging and in this state, but with him in his pretty little outfit you couldn’t contain yourself very much.

You trail your fingers up to his neck before gripping it slightly, pushing him down into the fluffy pillows while he whines out. His face was all pouty and his eyes were tearing up and ruining his makeup. He watches you move your hand up to his face, cupping his cheeks and squishing them as you relished in his cute reaction.

Poor baby just wanted to cum inside of you again, that’s all he asked for.

“L-Love…p-please~” He gasps out and his sapphire eyes were now shedding tears, ruining his makeup and slightly displeasing you. You sigh and giggle to him, inching your face closer to his with a sweet little smile. “Yes Sanji~ You can cum inside of me now.” You whisper to him, tending back to your pleasure as you begin to move your hips against his once more. Sanji could only sit there and watch you bounce on his cock with ease, his eyes flickering back and forth between both your face and and your bouncing breasts.

While he moans out beneath you, you can see his tears seeping into the blue pillowcase around the pillow cradling his beautiful little head. He began to feel so hot and sticky with sweat as gripped the sheets tighter in his hands, now straining to release after holding it in for a bit too long.

Perhaps he had to start back over from holding it in and begin edged. You whimper out as he felt your thighs trembling against his hips, he knew that you were close too and yet you still stopped yourself and your own orgasm. He sighs out before whimpering all cutely, now feeling his orgasm creeping back up in his lower tummy.

“Ah~ L-Love!~ Ah!~ I-I’m- MMGH!~” He gasps out and pulls you against his chest, biting his lip tight before slowly closing his eyes. His hands weakly grabs at your hips before pressing them down hard against his, wanting to keep you close while he cum fills your pussy again. He gasps out and coats your walls in his cum once again, filling your pussy up while he whines out desperately. His body shuddered and he whines out before taking in deep breath.

Both of your lower regions were coated in your own sticky mess, and you were more than pleased with him. Satisfied even. Sanji’s grasp on your hips grows weak and he releases your hips, his breaths still heavy and yet slightly whiny.

“Ahh~ Ah~” He shivered beneath you, sliding his hand up your back. His makeup was running down his cheek and onto the pillows from his tears, his soft yet broken mewls echoing though your ears. You smile softly and lie down against his chest, feeling it rise and fall slowly as he took deep breaths and sorta struggles to.

“N-No more…N-No more right now…” He exhaled, his curly-brows furling while his lips quivered. You give him a loving smooch to his cheek, waffling your fingers with his tightly as you warmed his sticky and messy cock. “No more for now baby…No more for now.” You giggled, nuzzling up into his neck.

He keeps you close, his hands combing through your strands as he lied there.

“Well? Was it fun?”

“H-Hm?-“

“Was it fun? You sure did enjoy the role didn’t you baby!~”

Sanji shoots up, his face turning a beet red as he looks away with with a frantic look in his eyes. “W-Well!- U-Um…”

“You enjoyed it didn’t you Sanji baby?~” You giggles, playing with his scruff while he whimpers out in embarrassment. “F-Fine. I did…I-It was…different to say the least…” He sighs out, hugging you and keeping you close. His fingers played with the sweet silky fabric of your lingerie.

“I-I…I did enjoy it…honestly…j-just…don’t tell anyone about this…please darling…” Sanji whispered to you, burying his face deep against your skin.

“I would never my pretty…” You promised, giggling to him.

Sanji raises his head in realization. You didn’t cum before or after he did.

“Oh! S-Sweetie you didn’t cum did you!?” He asked, looking deep into your eyes. “It’s okay Sanji baby…I did say no more for now…didn’t I?” You giggle, straddling his lap once again.

Sanji gulps and lies back down against the fluffy pillows. He pouts a bit but smiles softly.

At least this was still somewhat of an enjoyable experience for him.

Even if it was forced.

#puddingspookyseries #dividers ->cafekitsune #one piece #one piece smut #one piece fluff #op smut #op fluff #one piece x female reader #one piece sanji #op sanji #sanji smut #sanji fluff #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 10 days

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Strawberries and Cream

I will be so real I made this title up while watching strawberry shortcake *Hyena laughing gif*

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x reader

Word count: 4.6k YEAH THATS RIGHT I ACTUALLY CHECKED THIS TIME

🔪remember to reblog🔪

Notes: You know the strawberry shortcake from the early 2000s? That’s MY GIRL. P.s I’m in the middle of writing this rn 1:47am 4/19/24 and imma be so real this fic is full on Christopher erasure I’m SORRY

Chapter 1: First Appearances

Eddie had never been a “bumbling idiot” when it came to women, or okay at least he hadn’t been in a long time.

“Hi there! Can you help me?”

And there goes that record.

It’s like you walked in on a cloud of sugared lavender and cotton candy and strawberries and anything else sweet he could think of. He whirled around, nearly knocking into you

“Oh shit- god no shit- no I shouldn’t say shit-“ He grabs your arms to steady you, and it’s like he’s holding an angel. You’re… soft? Yeah soft is the word he’s looking for. He’s taking way too long to talk like a normal person and he knows it. But god if that short pink dress isn’t doing things to him….

“What um- What can I help you with?” Eddie leans against the fire truck, crossing his arms over his chest, coming back down to earth. What a smooth recovery.

“Well- I’m looking for Evan Buckley. He goes by Buck?” She looks up at him, her hands clasped behind her back sweetly.

Oh.

Oh, she wanted Buck.

Eddie deflates just the tiniest bit, okay a lot but he can’t let her know that “Oh yeah sure, I think he’s upstairs, come on”

He leads the way, his hand flowing over the cool railing, trying to ground himself a little. Was it wrong he was hoping Buck fumbled this one? He wanted his best friend to find happiness- to know what that felt like…but like he could just wish that a teeny bit right?

“Hey, Buck? Someone’s here to see you” He says as he stands at the top of the stairs. You pop out from behind him, throwing your hands in the air.

“Surprise!!!” You yell, doing a little spin

“It’s me!!!”

Buck's mouth drops wide open, his fork falling from his hand as he gets up from the table so excitedly he knocks his chair back.

“Y/N?!? What are you doing here?!” He runs over, picking you up and spinning you around, you squeal, holding onto him tightly.

“Buck!! Put me down!! You’re gonna drop me!” You’re laughing, your head tilted back as he squeezes you to his chest

“Not, I’m never putting you down again” He buries his face in your neck, hugging you as tight as he can before he sets you on the floor. He holds your arms, shaking you like a ragdoll.

“It’s been years Y/N, does Maddie know you’re here???”

You push away from him a bit, steadying yourself and putting your hand on your forehead.

“Can you rein it in for like five seconds” you giggle, looking up at him “I thought it was finally time to come see you! And no Maddie doesn’t know I’m here yet, I wanted to surprise you two!

“Well, do you have a place to stay? Because you’re staying with me you can have the bed I’ll take the couch! We can have Maddie over too! Oh god I’m so glad-“

Bobby finally clears his throat, looking up from the salad in front of him.

“Uh…Buck? You wanna maybe introduce your friend before you kill her with whiplash”

“Or from crushing her sternum,” Hen says, pouring a cup of coffee

“Oh shit, yeah! This is Y/N, my cousin!” He puts his hands on her shoulders pridefully, pushing her towards them.

Eddie perks up at that, turning around and leaning against the counter… cousin? He stirs his coffee slowly

Bobby gets up and shakes her hand, patting her on the shoulder

“It’s nice to meet you! Family of Bucks is a member of ours. Welcome to the 118”

They fawn over her, really that’s the only word Eddie can come up with. Chim compliments her “adorable” dress, Hen tells her she’s working those shoes, showing off that black girl magic. She’s a bit overwhelmed by the attention, giggling through her nerves as she talks to them. A wide smile on her face.

Buck takes her hand eventually, yanking her over to Eddie

“This is my best friend,” He says proudly, patting Eddie on the back. “Eddie Diaz!”

Eddie melts when she looks up at him with those sweet eyes, he smirks, looking away for a second and biting his lip. It's subtle but Buck catches it, narrowing his eyes.

“Yeah, we’ve met,” he says, looking back at you and shaking your hand “It’s nice to properly meet you Y/N”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Eddie,” You say, a smile on your face, you bite your lip and Buck sees that too. He looks down at you, and then back up at Eddie.. and then right back down to you. His head goes up and down like a paddle ball and he whips out his phone, distractedly pushing you at Eddie.

“Ed do me a favor and keep her entertained for a minute. I need to call Maddie real quick I uh- I remembered something”

“Don’t you dare tell her I’m here! I want to surprise her” you warn him and Buck struggles, his hands gesturing wildly.

“Oh. Uhhh I’m sorry. I already texted her!” Chim interjects, shrugging awkwardly and you frown a little but shrug back “Oh okay! That’s fine”

Buck shoots Chimney a thumbs up for covering for him and immediately calls Maddie, running down the stairs for privacy.

“So um…where are you from?” Eddie asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Admittedly he does it to make his chest look better, and God does it. Hen snickers but ignores him doing that and Chim makes faces behind your back at Eddie.

“Oh, I’ve been in Minnesota for a while! It’s nice there, pretty quiet. I’m maybe looking for a place around here now though… but don’t tell Buck or Maddie I don’t wanna get their hopes up.

“Buck would probably just make you move in with him,” Bobby comments over his salad.

“Hey! We have plenty of space” Chim adds “if you’re looking for something temporary. I'm sure Maddie wouldn’t even mind permanent if we were able to discuss it”

“Eddie has a spare room. If you were here temporarily at least, that would probably be your best bet at this point” Hen chimes in, looking at him. His cheeks heat up and he chokes a little on his coffee

“I- I mean. I-“ he doesn’t even know what to say to that because god yes would he want that. Is that premature? That’s premature. Like so premature wanting to live with you……Anyway, a dog maybe? he knows exactly what old clothes he’d get rid of too to make space in his closet for you. Definitely a dog, gonna name him-

“Okay, okay slow down you guys” You laugh lightly, interrupting his internal life planning.

“I’m not moving in with anyone yet. It’s just a thought… and there’s no way in hell I’d feel comfortable imposing on Eddie like that. Family is one thing. A literal stranger? Yeah, I don’t know.”

“It’s not an imposition!” Eddie is way too quick with that answer. He clears his throat

“I- it wouldn’t be. That is if you need a place to crash. Besides I’m at work all day you know! It’s not like my place gets too much use…”

“See! Problem solved!” Hen says happily and you roll your eyes at her, scrunching your nose and making a little face at her

“Oh ha-ha, very funny. I’m not moving in with Eddie”

“You’re moving in with Eddie?!” Buck’s mouth is dropped wide open as he stands at the top of the stairs.

“What?! No!” You tell him, your hands up in defense “I’m not moving in with anyone.”

“Good,” Buck says as he picks up his chair from earlier. “Because if you’re moving in with anyone it’s gonna be me.”

“Told you” Bobby rolls his eyes.

After he finishes his pad, Thai, Buck eagerly shows you around the firehouse, dragging you and Eddie around like a kid in a candy shop. He just has so much he wants to show you, and he wants Eddie there “for backup” in case he misses anything. He proudly shows off his locker and you giggle, he’s incredibly cute sometimes. He shows off Eddie’s locker too, to which Eddie rolls his eyes and shuts the door, giving him a shove.

“Trust me when I say I saved the best for last.”He climbs up into the truck, reaching out for you. “Eddie help her?” He requests, taking your hands in his. Eddie shrugs, putting his hands firmly on your hips as you step up into the truck, he gives you a little lift and push and you’re in. Buck winks at you and you roll your eyes as Eddie climbs in behind the two of you.

“Isn’t this cool?!” He practically yells “Cool” and you’re looking around like a little owl, your eyes wide, head swiveling. It’s a lot to take in but it’s cool, he’s right.

“Uh, yeah!!!” You agree, touching everything in sight. Eddie sits on one of the seats and watches you walk around a bit, looking at everything and running your fingers over it. Buck makes you sit down in one of the seats and buckles you in.

“You look awesome!” He chuckles as he takes pictures of you for Maddie. He unbuckles his belt and gets up, looking around outside the door. Eddie gets on one knee, helping to unbuckle you. He looks up at you as you pull your arms out from the straps

“Thanks” Your voice is a little breathless, god his smile is gorgeous and he smells so damn good.

“Yeah no problem” He grins, standing up out of your way.

“Hey Y/N, you wanna pretend to drive?” Buck asks excitedly, rubbing his hands together as he turns back around.

“Oh my god, can I??? Please!!” You squeak and Eddie chuckles, shaking his head at the two of you…he can see your similarities. Buck makes Eddie get out first and smirks as Eddie grabs your hips again, it’s a little harder getting out and you stumble into his arms, squeaking.

“Hey, Don’t worry I got you” He chuckles, holding you against his chest, you look up at him as he smiles down at you.

“T-thanks uhh again, I guess' ' you mumble, your cheeks feeling like they’re practically on fire. Buck sits on the floor of the truck, swinging his feet as he just gleefully watches the interaction. Eddie sets you down properly, taking a second before he lets you go.

“Guess he’s gonna make you help me into the front seat too huh?” You ask a bit shyly

“I’m lazy as hell so yes” Buck pipes up from behind you and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind it anyway, just gives me an excuse to get closer to you” He practically purrs and even though he’s joking (he’s not) you melt on the spot, your mouth falling open quickly and snapping shut just as fast. He cracks up as he helps you up into the driver's seat. His hands feel so hot on your hips, they sear into your sides and you wish he’d keep them there. Eddie shuts the door and goes around to the other side, climbing inside.

“Alright children, go crazy” he teases you and Buck as he watches, he has to swat your hand away from so many buttons that Buck is trying to make you push. Eventually, you’re both just doing it to drive him crazy.

“Honk the horn, honk the horn!!” Buck chants from the backseat and you look over at Eddie, he shakes his head snickering as he nods

“Alright alright, God. Go ahead, Bobby will know Buck made ya do it”

You put both hands on the large horn and push down, the loud honking noise echoes through the entire station and Buck bursts out laughing. You fall back in the seat, kicking your legs laughing excitedly and it takes everything in Eddie not to just lean over and kiss you. You look so happy and gleeful as you all hear Bobby already yelling at Buck

“Scatter!!!” Buck yells and jumps from the truck, running away.

“No! No, that's not fair!” You yell after him, as Eddie jumps from the front seat too. You scramble over to the other chair and Eddie is already waiting with his arms out to you. It stalls you for a second, your heart beating out of your chest as you climb down into his arms.

“Safe and sound,” he says as he shuts the door and pulls you with him over to a little corner to hide. You can see everything from there, you’re pressed against Eddie as you both watch Bobby coming down the stairs. Buck is hiding in front of the engine, he runs around the opposite side and you’re giggling. Eddie is snorting as he covers your mouth

“Shhhh you’re gonna get us caught” he whispers and god does Eddie not want to be caught. He didn’t mean for this to happen, for your body to be pressed into his, one hand on your back pressing you into him and the other over your mouth. It’s intimate, and soon your giggles die out and you look up at him, his hand still over your mouth. You both stare into each other’s eyes…is it getting hot in here??? Did someone open the bay doors??

He slowly removes his hand and you blink at him

“Sorry” he apologizes softly, he’s just glad there’s no way you can feel the way his heart is beating out of his chest.

“It’s cool,” you say back just as quietly, feeling the same way. You bite your lip, your hands feeling the hard muscles under his tight shirt. Kinda makes you wonder if all his clothes fit him this nicely.

You’re about to say something when alarms start blaring. You jump, holding onto the front of his shirt and he pulls you in for a second

“Shit- Shit I gotta go,” he says, reluctantly letting you go. “Hopefully I’ll see you again sometime soon” He tilts your chin up, like he wants to kiss you but decides against it… he did just meet you. Instead, he kisses your forehead before running off to get his stuff on.

The truck is gone for about 10 minutes before you get a text from Buck, telling you Maddie is coming to pick you up and take you back to his place and that he’ll see you for dinner. He sends a little heart emoji at the end of the message and you smirk. Buck was ridiculous, sincere, but ridiculous.

The truck rolls back into the station a couple of hours later, It’s time to clean up and head out, their shifts are almost over finally. They work together, putting things back in their places and giving the truck a little wipe-down in a few places. Finally, Bobby dismisses them as the next shift starts coming in.

Eddie walks into the changing room, exhausted and ready to crash at home. He grabs his clothes and tosses them down, grabbing his shirt and yanking it tiredly over his head.

“So are you ... into her?” Buck asks as he walks in, getting his stuff together and standing next to Eddie to change and chat. He pulls his blue shirt over his head and looks at Eddie as he reaches for his pants

“Into who?” Eddie raises an eyebrow, pulling up his pants. He knows exactly who he’s talking about but he’s not confirming that.

“ “Into who” Yeah okay” Buck scoffs “Are you into Y/N?”

“Buck I just met her this afternoon. How could I be into her.” He lies through his teeth…and Buck sees right through him.

“Okay sure, anyway. Since you wanna play coy I’m not inviting you to dinner anymore”

“Wait, you were inviting me to dinner?” He stops buttoning his pants and looks over at Buck who’s pulling on his jeans

“Yeah I was… but since someone isn’t into someone… I’m not bothering” he buttons his pants and claps him on the back “See ya tomorrow bestie!” He goes to leave, a smirk on his face and Eddie stops him, grabbing his arm.

“I’m not….I’m not saying I’m into her. But- like-“ he sighs

“I’m hungry”

Buck walks into the studio, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat. Maddie is sitting at the table, eating a bowl of grapes and you’re standing at the stove, stirring the pot.

“I’m telling you Mads, he is literally so cu-“

Maddie cuts you off, clearing her throat “Hey Buck! Hey… Eddie?”

Buck pushes Eddie ahead of him and over to the counter, he walks past him to the fridge and grabs a couple of drinks

“Look who’s staying for dinner,” He says in a singsong voice, tossing Eddie a bottle of water, Eddie rolls his eyes and leans against the small counter next to the stove, he gives you a wink as he opens the bottle

“Hope you don’t mind? He just invited me at the last minute” He shrugs, sipping the water. He looks over at Maddie, who is staring at Buck intensely. They’re definitely having a sibling conversation.

“No, not at all! I made more than enough!! I’m glad you could join us.” You give him a little hip bump, feeling your cheeks flush and he bumps you back. He looks up to see Maddie and Buck staring at the two of you, Buck eagerly wiggles, trying to hide his excitement, you turn around and he instantly stops, making Eddie laugh.

Dinner is good- like really good, Eddie hasn’t eaten Mexican food like that in a while, sure he could go to Catrina’s but it’s just different when it’s from home. Buck had nearly shoved Eddie into the chair next to you, as he plopped down next to Maddie

“Oh don’t mind me! Just wanna sit by my wonderful, loving, perfect, sister” he explained and Maddie facepalmed, Buck couldn’t be more obvious…but at the same time, you couldn’t be more oblivious…Buck was acting weird but he’s Buck he’s always weird.

“So I guess it’s safe to say you’ve got a little Latin flair in you hm?” Eddie asks as he takes a bite from his carnitas, even the tortillas are freshly made. You’d brought them with you from home for Maddie and Buck.

“Yup,” you smile proudly as he moans and rolls his eyes back “I’m half Mexican. And uh, I take it the food is good?”

“I’m so sorry for the absolute slut I’m about to become while eating this, yes it’s delicious” he nods his head while he’s eating and you break down laughing. Buck and Maddie are looking at each other with that certain sparkle in their eyes again while you’re shoving Eddie and he’s stealing a bite of your rice.

It’s kind of natural the way you hang all over Eddie over dinner and the way he holds onto you, maybe it’s the Hispanic in you both, very touchy. Or maybe it’s just that he’s fun to be around. Eddie learns a good deal about you, most of it incredibly embarrassing as Buck can’t help himself but tell all of your embarrassing moments as kids together. Eddie gets him back for you, telling the story about how he quite literally peed himself on a date once and you and Maddie are both scream laughing as Buck starts throwing leftover lettuce at Eddie screaming at him to shut up.

“I’m sorry you got into a lettuce war” You giggle as you walk out to Eddie’s car together, nudging each other occasionally. He’s got his hands in his pockets

“Yeah that’s Buck for you”

Buck had made you walk Eddie out to his car, claimed he absolutely had no choice but to start the dishes or he’d forget, and said Maddie had to use the bathroom and it wasn’t safe for pregnant women to hold it for so long. You’re pretty sure he made that last part up but you just shrug it off, slipping on your slides and following Eddie outside.

You stop in front of his car and you lean against it a little, dragging your finger down the hood. He clears his throat and you look up at him, he’s blushing as he runs his fingers through his hair nervously.

“Do you…wanna like to hang out? While you’re in town?”

“Yeah sure why not! You’re Buck’s best friend I’m sure he’d love to “

“No no- just. Like just us. Just me and you?” He interrupts you, as he gets in his car.

“Oh,” You feel your cheeks flush. “Like…- like a date?”

“No! No not. Okay- okay that sounds bad I said it way too fast-“ He’s stumbling over his words “Jus- just like being cool hanging out I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t ask you on a date…yet. Like we just met you know so I mean I don’t want to take things too fast for you!!”

His head falls heavily back against the headrest groaning at his awkwardness, and you’re smirking, your arms crossed over your chest. He looks over at you, his voice low as he takes a deep breath.

“Would you like to go to the zoo with me this weekend? As friends. I’d like to get to know you better.”

You smile at him, leaning into the car window and kissing him on the cheek.

“I would love to go to the zoo with you this weekend, as friends”

Eddie rolls his eyes, that blush on his cheeks deepening as he starts the car, looking at you. “Friends don’t kiss friends” He dares to say that as if he hadn’t kissed your forehead that afternoon.

“I promise you, friends kiss friends on the cheek. Trust me” You tell him a matter of factly, assuring him as you step back, giving him a little wave.

“Guess I gotta get on that trend huh?”

He smirks as he drives off. Is he speeding? Yes. But does it look cool as hell, also yes. He’s so giddy all the way home. Not only does he have a Tupperware full of some of the best food he’s eaten in a long time that you’d shoved in his hands and refused to take no for an answer when he tried to tell you he couldn’t possibly take it. But you’d also said yes to the date… okay a “friend” date but you still said yes!!

The next morning he’s got a little more pep in his step, he gets through his workout faster than usual and he’s even early to work.

“You’re in a good mood” Hen comments, as she drinks her coffee, he shrugs as he finishes tucking his shirt into his pants

“I guess I am …yeah” He smiles, fixing his hair. He is in a good mood…he can’t stop thinking about you. He’d even dreamed about you… it was impossible not to think about you. It’s like he could smell your perfume as he was just standing there, whatever you wore was everything to him, he could practically bathe in it.

“Why are you standing with your hands in your hair like that?” You giggle as you walk up next to him.

Oh, so he could smell your perfume.

“I was just distracted..” He says awkwardly, turning towards you.

“What are you doing here?”

“I brought brownies! Me and Maddie are hanging out today so she brought me up here ...didn't realize I’d run into you” you say, your hands behind your back as you look around the firehouse.

“Didn’t think I’d get to see you either…” he says, mimicking your stance

He leans down, kissing you on the cheek. His lips are soft and plump and it makes you blush, his hand ghosts over your hip before he pulls you a little closer to him.

“So, I was thinking we could go to lunch after the zoo? If you wanted”

He’s so close now, looking down at you. He’s tall…and he still smells so good, like he always does. You could bottle that and just bathe in it.

“Lunch?” your voice is a bit dreamy as you feel his hand on your hip. He’d been touching you yesterday too and today felt just as good. You can practically feel his body against yours like it was the other day when you were hiding.

“Yeah, figured we could go to the zoo early…maybe spend the day together. If you’re okay with that” His voice is smooth, sort of deep. Like he’s purposely trying to overwhelm your senses.

“Y…yeah okay. Yeah, that sounds nice” you agree easily because he is overwhelming you. And you can’t help the way your lips part softly like you just need to know what his feels like. He’s got a smirk on his face as his eyes flick down to your lips, he runs his tongue over his own before he chuckles lightly.

“Alright…it’s a date. But you know, not” His voice is playful as he wiggles his eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes, finally pushing at his chest, shoving him away from you.

“Yeah, yeah whatever I’ll see you this weekend.” You can finally breathe again.

He watches you walk away, practically thirsting over that sway in your hips and the way those shorts you’re wearing hug your body so deliciously.

“Shoulda taken her to the beach…” he mumbles to himself.

“Can you not eye fuck my cousin in front of me please, I truly don’t think that’s too hard of a request.” Buck groans as he shoves a brownie in Eddie’s mouth.

“And she’s good at baking?!” Eddie moans around his bite, accepting the brownie from Bucks's hand

Buck rolls his eyes “Of course she’s good at baking. She’s good at everything”

“Eddie you better get to talking to her before I do” Hen threatens him jokingly “These are damn good”

“I know okay, I know” Eddie sighs “I’m not going to jump at her though, that’s like….desperate right? I don’t want to come off as desperate…even if I think she’s pretty. Like really pretty- stupid pretty”

“Hey, guys? You think she’s pretty?” Chim asks as he comes over to help Hen restock the engine.

“Not sure. Maybe we should ask Eddie” Hen nods as she walks away with him.

Eddie rolls his eyes, flicking them both off as he leans against the wall, rubbing his hands over his face. Buck chuckles at him, putting his hand on his arm.

“She's not gonna think you’re desperate Eddie… Y/N isn’t like that. And I think she’s into you too. Just be yourself, man, You’re a good guy Eddie, and a total catch. I love Y/N with all of my heart but if she can’t see that? She’s a total loser. And you know two sides of the same coin if you can’t see she’s the greatest woman in the entire world you’re the loser” He snickers as he elbows Eddie in the ribs. Eddie chuckles and sighs nudging Buck back.

“Thank you for restoring my confidence…I needed that. You’re the greatest friend in the world man, honestly”

Bobby makes a gagging sound as he walks by “And you’re the greatest crew in the world” He says in a high-pitched voice, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Hey! We’re having a moment” Buck says, throwing his napkin at Bobby.

Part Two

#eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz #evan buckley #chimney han #bobby nash #9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #maddie buckley #words by Rhys #Rhys writes #wish I knew more tagsss #this is gettin pretty awkwardddd #eddie x y/n #reader insert #maybe I’ll remember more #Strawberries and Cream

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oftenwantedafton · 1 month

Text

Confession - Priest Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 1

Word Count - 1.8k

Rating - Explicit

CW - CAUTION - religious themes

Also available on AO3

taglist @charlottecutepie @robin-munson @ahsxual

William Afton thinks this is, perhaps, his best alias yet.

A man of the cloth, as they say, and though he subscribes to no religion, professes no faith himself, the diocese doesn’t need to know that. Just like they don’t need to know his real name, or anything about his past.

So he is now Father Steve Raglan, a pitifully easy role to adopt. He’s had years of practice forging documents and smooth talking his way through sticky situations. This was a piece of cake compared to the challenges he’d faced in the past. Guiding a small congregation in a dusty town still within close reach of his restaurant—he was hardly going to surrender that—naturally suited his needs. The words for his sermons spilled from his fingers easily. Lies interspersed with quoted scripture to placate the devout attendees each Sunday.

He’s lost none of his charisma as he’s aged; has even seemed to gain some, in fact. The old ladies constantly plied him with baked goods and crocheted items. The middle aged crowd donated heartily when the collection plate was passed around. There were endless invites to gatherings around dinner tables. The troubled sought his wisdom behind the slats of the confessional. Depending on his mood he’d add or subtract more than the standard amounts of prayers on the rosary. There were whispers among some of the women—and surely some of the men too, though he wasn’t specifically aware of this—of how handsome he was. He hardly needed his ego inflated any further, but they were only too happy to oblige. So here he was. A man of God who did not believe in a higher power, because he felt he himself was that absolute deity. Answering to no one.

He’d been enjoying his newfound success for a couple of months when a new member of the flock comes into the fold.

The bearded man’s used to letting his eyes wander during the delivery of his sermons, while pacing in front of the altar, or standing before the pulpit preaching the Gospel, never fixing on any particular parishioner or pew or stained glass window, yet he does a double take when he sees you for the first time.

Steve cannot say exactly what it is that draws you to him so suddenly. Something in your eyes, perhaps. Not glassy with boredom like the teenage youth in the fourth row who’s clearly daydreaming; not shining with hope like the mother with the sick daughter in the hospital; not evasive like the man Raglan knows for a fact is having an extramarital affair with the woman in the row in front of him. No, your look was something quite different. You did not just see his physical appearance: the graying dark brown hair and neatly trimmed beard; the crows feet and laugh lines on otherwise smooth skin, belying his actual age; the easy smile which never quite touched his pale steel eyes, set just a touch farther apart than the standard—no, it felt, when your gazes linked, as if you could see directly into him. Past the facade of a holy man. Into his very soul.

He nearly stumbles mid sentence but manages to recover, the years of deception once again rushing to his aid, and no one in his audience seems the wiser.

Except perhaps you.

When it’s time for the gathering to make their way up to the altar to take communion, he’s forced to confront you directly. So many people lowered their eyes in respect, or bowed their heads once receiving the Eucharist. But you do neither of these things. You meet his stare unfalteringly and part your lips and he seats the wafer on your tongue. An inexplicable heat floods through him, the tips of his fingers just lightly brushing that moist carpet at the base of your mouth. Your lips close so rapidly he doesn’t yet have time to move his hand—or perhaps he himself is at fault, lingering too long—and you close your mouth, capturing a taste of manicured nails and calloused pads before he snatches his hand back as if burned. No reaction from you. You turn and make your way back to your seat.

The rest of the mass seems to drag on. At last it is time for the final song. He cringes inwardly. The keyboardist is an aging, half-deaf woman who hits more wrong notes than correct ones, the melody jarring along. He himself has a decent enough singing voice, or so he’s been told. Even with the harsh tune in the background, the voices he leads do a decent job.

At last the hymn is finished and the mass draws to a close. Now Father Raglan assumes his customary position by the entrance of the church, bidding farewell to his visitors, making vague noncommittal promises to attend the many occasions he’s invited to attend. You are the last to leave. The false priest is determined to regain some of his authority, starting here and now.

“We haven’t had a chance to be introduced yet. I’m Father Raglan. Welcome to the congregation.”

You say your name. Steve is forced to raise a hand as a makeshift visor. He should have stood on the opposite side of the walkway. The sun is beating down fiercely and he can barely make out your features.

“Are you new in town? Or just new to our church?”

“Both.”

“And what do you do for work? Or are you in school, perhaps?” It’s difficult to determine your age.

“I’m a seamstress.”

“Ah. Well, that’s a useful skill.” Steve’s stomach is growling. He typically eats a light breakfast before mass, preferring to indulge in a generous meal afterwards.

“You’re hungry,” you observe.

“Heard that, did you?” He grins ruefully.

“Starving.” The smile slips from his features. He does not think you are speaking about nourishment in the traditional sense of food and drink. He has that uncomfortable sensation of being exposed again.

“Right. Well, it was nice to meet you. I’ve got things to attend to. I’ll see you next Sunday.”

He hurries back up the stairs, eager to be away from your intrusive stare. The oak doors slide shut and he’s forced to blink for a few moments, trying to dash away the lingering sun spots. He can feel his heart racing; something he has not experienced in some time.

Who are you?

***

Confession day.

The amount of visitors seeking to serve penance varies. Certainly higher volumes preceding holidays, when they are reminded of their religious obligations. Lately it has been fairly quiet.

Steve does not mind the narrow confines of the confession booth. It reminds him of being sheltered within his favorite animatronic suit. Close and comforting, albeit that residence came with the added danger of the springlocks, which he knew only too well, having fallen victim to them years ago, narrowly escaping with his life.

Here though, there was nothing to die of save sheer boredom, perhaps. He can smell the polish recently applied to the wood. The bench creaks slightly when he shifts positions. He does wish it allowed for a little more room height-wise; his six foot four frame was forced to fold and crouch a little more than he’d like.

He hears footsteps on the flooring outside. A woman’s walk. Lighter tred. The click of the sharp point of a high heel. Clearing his throat, he readies his hand to draw back the wooden clapboard on his side of the booth. The figure enters, the seat on the opposite creaking similarly as his had. He exposes the privacy screen dividing your faces and sucks in his breath sharply. It’s you.

You make the sign of the cross. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been six weeks since my last confession.” You pause. “I’m not the one who should be asking for forgiveness, though, am I, Father?” You say this honorific with a note of mockery.

“My child, I am afraid I don’t understand your meaning.”

“I am not your child. Not one of those poor unfortunates you’ve tortured.”

Steve’s fingers curl into a fist. “Who are you?” It’s impossible for you to recognize him. To know what he’s done. He has always been so careful. Deceiving the authorities. Concealing his crimes. You couldn’t possibly know.

“That’s not important. The name that should be revealed is your own: William Afton.”

His blood runs cold. The first fear he’s known in a long time. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My name is Steve Raglan.”

“Your name isn’t Steve Raglan, nor are you an ordained priest. So stop pretending. We both know better.”

“What do you want?” His mind is racing, trying to figure out the best way to dispose of you. Best to do it now, while the rest of the chapel was still unoccupied. He’s wracking his brain trying to think of what he can use as a weapon. Something from the altar, maybe.

“I want you to acknowledge your sins.”

He scoffs, some of his standard cockiness returning. “That won’t be happening.”

He sees you exit the booth and he drags the velvet curtain back, joining you outside the confessional.

“You should go lock the front doors. Wouldn’t want to be disturbed, would we?”

Afton frowns. He does want to lock the doors. The question is, why do you want them locked?

“I’ll wait here for you.”

Turning his back on you seems a bad idea. But he has no choice. He strides briskly to the entrance to the chapel, withdrawing the ring of keys from his pants pocket and hastily slotting the metal into the lock. When he turns back, he finds you standing exactly where he’d left you.

For a moment, your shadow cast against the white chapel walls changes shape. Arches stretch out from your shoulders, like the crests of an angel’s wings. Gone again so suddenly he’s convinced he imagined it. Just his nerves. He needs to regain control of the situation.

“Name your price. Whatever you want, I’ll get it for you. I have numerous resources available to me.” He walks towards you slowly. A wolf cautiously approaching its prey.

“My price?”

“For your silence.” William has no intention of letting you go, of course. He’s merely stalling. Trying to decide what item within reach will dispatch you the fastest and most neatly. He doesn’t relish the thought of cleaning blood off these pristine floors.

“I have no interest in revealing your secrets to anyone. I’m here to hear them from your own lips.”

“Not happening,” he snaps.

“I could taste your sin the other day. Heavy, so strong it drowned out the flavor of Christ’s body.”

The man jerks to a halt when he’s a foot away. “Who are you?”

“What am I is a better question. I can be your salvation and guide you to the path of redemption. Or I can lead you straight to hell. A route I think you’ve danced near on more than one occasion. Make your choice, William.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? That’s who you really are. I know what you really are,” you whisper, closing the final distance separating you from the false priest.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader

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ickadori · 4 months

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It’s 2:58 am where I am but imagine Poly!Gojo after finding out he actually did love reader getting jealous whenever the reader pays attention to literally anything else. Reader sitting there confused as hell, and mildly uncomfortable as gojo tries to pry their attention away like he didn’t leave them for dead when they were kidnapped.

cws for yandere gojo vibes and reader wearing a skirt.

And you are uncomfortable - this sudden onslaught of…possessiveness seems entirely out of character for him. He had been so free and careless when it came to you before, hardly batting an eye when someone chatted you up in public, never looking twice when you left the house in an outfit a bit too risqué with your friends, and never even so much as frowning when you talked about your male friends and coworkers with a bit too much enthusiasm.

You had never seen him jealous, angry, territorial, and you thought you had hit the jackpot in the boyfriends department - two men who completely rejected the male toxicity that some of your friends had to deal with.

But now…now Gojo was different. He was stifling, suffocating, always leering over your shoulder and checking behind you. Suddenly, he was looking over your outfits, tugging at your skirts and complaining about how short they were, how your ass was practically hanging out, how men wouldn’t be able to keep their eyes, maybe even their hands, off of you. You told him every time, “What do you care? You wanted me dead, remember?”, and every time he’d sigh and complain about you bringing up the past.

Whenever you happened to be approached in public by some man who was friendly enough, Gojo would somehow make an entrance (his ability to sense these things were uncanny - or perhaps he was just always lurking, watching) and drape himself over your shoulders as he stared the man down, those bright eyes of his, which had been entrancing once upon a time, now making you want to shrivel up and never look at him again.

Whenever you’re out with your friends, your phone is constantly pinging with texts. You had blocked him before, but had quickly learned that flat out ignoring Gojo would result in him resorting to more…desperate measures.

You could only avoid his texts for so long before he’d start calling, and unless you wanted him making a surprise appearance, it was better to answer and humor him for a few moments. He didn’t usually hold you for long, unless Getou wasn’t around (which was rare), and you could get away with a few yeah’s and mhm’s thrown in, unless it was a night where he wanting a bit more.

In the rare moments where you can overlook the past to be around Getou - because he wasn’t really the one to blame, was he? He loved you, and he still does, as he so often tells you, Gojo had been the one to mess up, so you couldn’t punish him as well, right? - Gojo always rears his head up, smile on his face and something shining in his eyes before he’s covering them up with a pair of dark shades.

He’s putting himself down between the two of you, arm curling around your waist and head resting on your shoulder as if you two have been doing this for weeks, years—and he has, with Getou, while you had sat off to the side, just to happy to have been there.

You try to keep up the conversation with Getou, but Gojo is always butting in, trying to steer the conversation into the direction he wants it to go in. When that doesn’t work, he starts touching you; nuzzling his nose against your neck, pulling on strands of hair, intertwining his fingers with yours, blowing in your ear and cackling when you flinch away with a scowl.

Whenever he’s around, his attention is always on you, something that you’ve never experienced before, and you can’t say that you like it—maybe that’s what the three of you worked alright before, his encompassing love and everything that came with it -the obsessiveness, the clinginess, his overwhelming presence- was reserved for Getou (God, how could he stand it?) while you got nothing. But now…now it was split between the two of you, and you still found it to be entirely too much.

He was entirely too much.

And you don’t think that was going to change any time soon.

#++ ss poly

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starz222 · 1 year

Text

6reeze / 5wirl : as popular tropes

scara - enemies to lovers | venti - friends to lovers xiao - miscommunication | kazu - mutual piningheizou - academic rivals cw not proof read might be ooc notes sorry no aether :( idk how to write him . also i hate kazuha's part

scara – enemies to lovers

goddamn raiden scaramouche. he just always had to be right, didn’t he? god, you just wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. he was so damn blunt all the time, but it was more annoying how he was right. he’s short and he’s especially mean when he opens his mouth. what’s there to even like!? one of the things you hate about him was how he found out about one of your most embarrassing secrets and told everyone.

“i hate him! i can’t stand to be in the same room as him.” you complain to your friend, childe. he raises his eyebrows at you, “looks like someone’s got a crush.” you scoff and roll your eyes at him, “c’mon, i hate the guy’s guts!” you furrow your eyebrows. childe looks at you with a smug expression, “uh huh, that’s why you’ve been talking about him for the last 48 hours?” you didn’t even reply. you just stormed off. you hear childe in the distance, “looks like i was right!”

he turns to his phone, “did you hear all of that?”

“....yeah.” scaramouche finds himself dumbfounded. the next day, you find yourself avoiding him entirely. you saw a glimpse of him in the hallway? run to the nearest room. you saw his backpack behind a locker? run the opposite way. you see childe talking to someone shorter than him? it might not be scaramouche, considering childe is incredibly tall, but still, you choose to run away.

after seeing a silhouette that looks exactly like him in the halls, you run into the nearest room– the library. there, you hide behind a couple of bookshelves, trying to catch your breath. you turn to the right to take a peek at the entrance– what if he went inside? you sigh in relief when you see no one there, and you turn back to the bookshelf in front of you. and oh– there’s someone towering over you. the person you’ve been avoiding all this while. he’s got you pinned to the bookshelves, and you look down at the ground feeling your cheeks become hot. his right hand is over your head and his left blocking your way out.

“why are you avoiding me?” he says, not letting his eyes off of you, “it’s– it’s nothing!” you look further away. “the floor must be really interesting.” he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him, eye-to-eye. “tell me, why are you avoiding me?” you feel your body tense and your ears turn bright red. “because…”

“because what?” “i…like you..” you say in a soft voice, so quiet only a mouse couuld hear.

“i can’t hear you.”

“i like you!” it’s quiet. scaramouche isn’t saying anything. he takes his hands off the bookshelf and looks at you. “i thought you hated me.” he says, “i don’t know! i don’t know anymore, i—”

he cuts you off by placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“i… like you too.”

xiao – miscommunication

he was so confused about his feelings for you. he didn’t know what was going on with him. whenever you were around, his face would heat up and he’d become more tense. to others, he’d stay quiet, barely saying a word. but when it comes to you— oh, he doesn’t know what to do. he talks more, so much more. it’s something about you that just makes him lose it.

when he thinks his feelings will only hurt you, he’ll distance himself from you. you’ll stop seeing him around liyue, and you’ll stop hearing his voice, asking you how you’ve been. when you call out his name, he won’t appear. but that feeling you get that someone’s watching your every move, that doesn’t go away at all.

he thinks you hate him now, now that he’s gone out of touch with you. he thinks that as a human, you won’t realize how important it is to live life to the fullest, and that you should not spend your moments with someone like him. an immortal being with so much karmic debt on his shoulders haunting him every single second of the day. but, that all went away with you. you brought so much happiness and joy to his life, and you’ve made him experience so many things he never thought he’d got to feel.

but he was scared. scared of you getting hurt because of him, what if he’s the reason you don’t get to be happy? those thoughts stopped him from getting close to you— to be able to communicate with you.

one day, you catch him stumbling on his feet, walking unbalanced. suddenly, he collapses. you run over to him and let him rest on your lap, he slowly opens his eyes and breathes in deeply. “[name]?” his voice is husky, his eyebrows are furrowed, “am i… imagining things?” he blinks slowly again, “there’s… there’s no way you’d actually do this.” his breaths are heavy and when you put your hand over his forehead, it’s burning hot. “xiao, you’re heating up, what happened? are you okay?” you ignore his words. “i’m.. i’m fine. just stay here with me. it doesn’t matter if you’re my imagination.” xiao looks at you through his lashes, “i missed you, xiao. you have no idea how much i liked you– and how much i still do.”

xiao simply shakes his head. “no..no, i hurt you. you can’t do that, you can’t say–” he coughs, “you can’t say that.” he sniffs his nose, “just get some rest, xiao. let’s talk when you’re okay.” you say softly. “i’m so sorry, [name]. i didn’t want you to get hurt–”

“please get some rest, xiao. you’re not okay.”

heizou – academic rivals

heizou was one of the top students.you always ranked 2nd after him, and it infuriated you. not only that, but he was difficult to talk to, and he always seemed to be one step ahead of you. you always compared your scores with him the minute you got them, but he would always end up scoring one point higher than you.

this semester, you were set on defeating him. you studied all day and night, drank gallons of coffee, and barely slept. you thought about getting a score higher than his, how much you hate his intuition and him always being so spot on.

“wake up, [name]!” venti shakes you awake, “‘m not sleeping! i’m..i’m not sleeping-” you jot up in surprise. “you should get some sleep,” he sighs. “no, i can’t. i absolutely have to beat him this time around.” you say. “so, i can’t afford some shutter-eye right now.”

little did you know that “him” was just right around the corner, and he heard everything you said. “looks like your rival’s out to get you.” kazuha teased. “they should really get some sleep once in a while…” heizou mutters to himself.

the day of the exams, you were overprepared, you were determined, you were confident you were going to ace this test and finally beat him. you just downed a cup of coffee, and you’re ready to take the exam. a few days afterwards, you get the results for the examination. you run to see a certain maroon-haired fellow.

“heizou!” you run towards him, holding a paper in your hands. “what was your score… hah.. on the- the exam..” you pant and rest your arms on your knees. “woah there, excited much?” he takes your paper, “just- just tell me.” you take a while to catch your breath. he scans your paper, “79/80. wow, you’ve defeated the mighty shikanoin heizou.” he tells you.

“i did?”

“you did. only because i let you.”

“oh my god–” you ignore his words. “i did!” you blink. “i don’t think the entire campus can hear you yet–” you blink again. “[name]!” you collapse into his arms, he’s swift, and caught you in time. “you did great, seriously. just get some sleep now.” he mutters, he’s noticed in the past weeks that you were slouching all the time, and your eyebags got worse. your voice got croaky, and he always caught you drinking coffee, honestly, was there ever a moment when you weren’t holding a coffee?

“my my, the prince charming gets his happy ending alas.” kazuha walks from behind. "by the way, congrats on getting perfect scores."

“thanks.”

venti – friends to lovers

to be honest, you’ve gotten confused whether or not hanging out with him were just plain friendship stuff– or dates. knowing his secret, that he’s actually barbatos, the anemo archon, he uses his powers freely around you, making it easier to access beautiful city views. he invited you to watch the stars with him on the anemo god’s statue in the center of mondstadt, late at night. he uses his powers and holds your hand as you fly up to the statue’s hands, and there you lay down with him.

up there, the wind tickles your cheek, and venti is weirdly silent. it’s not like him at all to be quiet. so, you ask him, “what’s wrong?” he turns to you and says, “do you think they’ll like me back?” your heart drops. you tell yourself, you should be happy for your friend, finding his own happiness. but why not with you? “i mean, of course. what’s there not to like about you?” venti laughs. “there’s… so much i need to tell you.”

“well you didn’t even tell me about your special someone” you turn away, throwing up in the air the apples you got for venti. “hey– i couldn’t!” he becomes defensive, “it’s just… they’re amazing. all my years roaming teyvat, i’ve never met anyone so… just so amazing.” he smiles, “see? i can’t even put my feelings into words— and i’m a poet!” he pulls his knees to his chest, “i don’t know what to do…”

“you should choose me instead.” you think out loud, venti looks at you in shock. “wh-what? what’d you say?” his pupils diate and his ears become hot. “don’t make me say it again, it’s embarrassing.”

“no, no! not at all, [name], i’d gladly choose you. you’re the one i like” he gets up and holds both of your hands.

“so… does this mean we’re–”

“yep.”

kazuha – mutual pining

the crux has been through a lot, and god do they drink. it’s interesting to see kazuha not in his calm composure, instead slurring his words and his sentences full of hiccups. tonight, he drank a lot. the rest of the crew were passed out somewhere or simply sleeping. you were worried of leaving kazuha alone in this state– only archons know what’d happen to him.

“mmm–” he coos as he tilts his head at you. he giggles as he grabs a small photograph kept in his front pocket, he scooches over to you and shows you the picture. it’s a picture of you smiling. you ask him, “what’s this?”and he smiles, “the person i love oh so dearly…” he holds the picture as if it was fragile, like the slightest movement would ruin it. “don’t tell anyone, but..” he whispers into your ear, “i’m gonna marry them one day…” he giggles. he shoves the picture into your face, “look, *hic* aren’t they so cute?” you laugh, “you’re adorable, kazuha.” he looks at you, as if he’s offended. “well– *hic* i appreciate the compliment, but… you’re not [name], i’d like it if you didn’t say that, especially if they’re around.” he pouts. “y’know, i have someone i like too.” you smile at him, “really?” he entertains your sudden statement.

“yeah, he’s the nicest person i know. it’s like i can’t live without him.” the heavy weight you feel now being lifted off your chest. “you must really like him.” kazuha says, “what’s his name?” “his name’s kazuha. does that sound familiar?” you take your shot, it’s most likely he won't be able to remember this when he wakes up anyway, so why not? “it does– oh.” he’s taken aback, in fact slightly sober now. he rubs his eyes multiple times and blinks profusely.

“[name]—”

“can i call you cute now?”

tags @aimynx ( taglist for all of my works ! currently open )

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