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gojoluvs · 2 days

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Forever yours

⤿ Satoru Gojo x reader

Summary, The only reason why you even agreed to marry him was for your father. Now you wish you could go back in time and reject the offer.

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating, mean gojo, emotional trauma, manipulation, gaslighting.

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou x reader. Arranged marriage au! very ooc Gojo, Mean Gojo! CEO Gojo!

Notes: the tag-list is closed!! Ive reached the limit to tag anyone else :c. also sorry for the spelling errors / didn't catch :(

12k words

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Satoru sat across from his father, nervously fidgeting in his seat.

His father's stern gaze made him feel like a child again, and he was afraid of what was to come.

You, sitting next to him, could feel his tension radiating off of him. Your own emotions were mixed - anger, betrayal, and hurt all bubbling inside of you. But you did your best to remain calm and composed, even though the sight of your husband made your blood boil.

Placing a hand on your thigh, your husband's touch made you flinch. You quickly smacked his hand away, avoiding any contact with him. You made eye contact with him, your eyes displaying disgust and anger. How could he still try to touch you after what he did?

Smiling at his father, you tried to put on a facade of normalcy. You couldn't let his family know the truth about his infidelity. You grabbed a fork, trying to keep your hands busy and avoid any more unwanted physical contact.

But his father didn't seem to notice the tension between you and your husband. "So Y/N, how's my son treating you?" he asked with a smile. For a split second, your eyes traveled to your husband, who looked like he was going through it.

His eyebags were noticeably darker than before and his hair was a mess. It was clear that he was not doing well since you found out about his affair.

You hadn't been talking to him, sleeping in the guest bedroom ever since you caught him in the office with his lover. Memories of how heartbroken you were resurfaced, your stomach churning at the thought. You couldn't even look at him without feeling a mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal.

It was difficult being in the same room as your husband, knowing what he had done. You couldn't stand the sight of him, yet you had to put on a brave face for his family. It was exhausting, but you were determined to keep up appearances and not let anyone know the truth.

You smiled at his father, "Mm, he's been treating me okay," you said, stabbing the meat on your plate with your fork. You glanced over at Satoru, trying to gauge his reaction. His jawline was visibly tense, and his eyes refused to meet yours.

"Just okay? I expected him to treat you like royalty," his father chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye. You felt a nervous flutter in your stomach, unsure of how to respond.

But before you could say anything, Satoru's pleading look caught your attention. It was a look you had never seen before, and for a brief moment, you felt a twinge of pity.

But you quickly pushed it aside, determined not to let Satoru's pleading sway you. "He's doing just fine," you said, your tone firm. You reached for your glass of wine, taking a sip and letting the exquisite taste wash over your tongue. The wine was smooth and rich, a perfect complement to the delicious meal.

"I'm surprised you haven't produced an heir yet, any reason why?" His father said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Satoru. The wrinkles on his forehead seemed to pop out more in his disapproval.

You, dressed in a stunning black mermaid evening dress with a white bottom hem, glanced at your husband who was wearing a simple black suit.

His hair was slightly messy from the argument you both had before coming to the event.

“There should be one soon," you replied with a forced smile, trying to change the subject.

You knew your husband was struggling, both emotionally and physically, but you couldn't bring yourself to comfort him. The tension between the two of you was palpable, and the constant arguing was taking its toll on both of you.

You glanced over at Satoru, his face pale and gaunt, his eyes filled with exhaustion and sadness. He looked like an absolute mess, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him. But at the same time, you couldn't forgive him for what he did. You had been fighting for days about his affair with his lover, Jiyuu. The betrayal and hurt were still fresh in your mind.

As you took a bite of your food, you couldn't help but feel a sense of numbness. You had been going through daily treatments with Shoko, trying to conceive a child for the past few weeks. But you couldn't bring yourself to be intimate with Satoru anymore. The trust between you had been shattered, and you couldn't forget the pain he had caused you.

Despite his constant pleas and apologies, you had both agreed on getting a divorce after having his child. It was fulfilling his father's last wish and finally being able to be free from this broken marriage.

As you sat there in silence, you knew that this was the end of your relationship. The only thing holding you together now was the promise of a child, but even that couldn't repair the damage that had been done.

You had been trying to have a serious conversation with him for days now, but he seemed to always be lost in his own thoughts. He had been distant lately, always staying up late at night and drinking alone in the kitchen.

You couldn't help but wonder if he was having nightmares again. You knew he had been struggling with them for a while now, but he never wanted to talk about it. You wanted to help him, but it was hard to do so when you felt like he didn't even care about you anymore.

Your mind drifted back to the day you found out about his affair with his secretary. You were at the doctor's office, heart broken at the news when you saw them together. Your heart shattered into a million pieces as you realized that he didn't care about your feelings or your marriage.

You knew he was going through a lot, but at the same time, you couldn't shake off the resentment and betrayal you felt towards him. You were going to speak up, to finally confront him about everything, but then you stopped yourself. Why should you even care? He certainly didn't care about your feelings when he was cheating on you.

However, Satoru's stepmother chimed in, clearing her throat to get everyone's attention.

"Well, my son Yuta will be graduating high school soon, would you both perhaps like to attend the ceremony?" Satoru's stepmother beamed at you, her hand gently caressing her son's cheek as he sat next to her.

The boy was young, with slight eyebags, but definitely took after his mother. You could see the resemblance in their features and the way they both smiled. Before you could even respond, Satoru cut you off, his voice dripping with anger.

"We're not going to fucking attend a random's graduation," he spat, slamming his fork down on the table. You turned to look at him, taken aback by his sudden outburst.

"Why not?" his stepmother asked, her smile fading.

"Because it's pointless," Satoru retorted, his tone harsh. "I don't care about some kid I barely know graduating. And neither should you, Y/N.”

Satoru's words hung in the air, filled with resentment and anger towards his father and his new family. You could sense the tension in the room and felt uncomfortable being caught in the middle of it.

This was not the first time Satoru had expressed his dislike for his stepmother and her son, and it was clear he resented his father for moving on and starting a new family while neglecting his own son.

"Watch your language Satoru," his father scolded, his tone sharp and his eyes narrowed in disapproval. The tension in the air was thick and uncomfortable, making Satoru squirm in his seat. He could feel his father's disappointment like a weight on his shoulders, and it only fueled his anger.

"No, I don't understand why you want us to come to your stepson's graduation when you never even attended mine," Satoru's jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

"You never cared about me or mom and now you want to become a loving father for a kid who's not even yours?" He scoffed, the bitterness evident in his voice. "It's all for show, isn't it? Trying to make yourself look like a good father when you never gave a damn about me."

His father's expression hardened, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, boy."

"Why not? It's the truth," Satoru shot back, his voice rising in anger. "You never cared about me, and now you want me to pretend like we're a happy family? I'm tired of this charade."

"You will attend the graduation and show your brother the respect he deserves," his father's tone was cold and authoritative. "Or else."

Satoru let out a bitter laugh. "Or else what? You'll disown me like you did before? I don't give a damn about you or your new family. I won't be a part of your lies anymore." He stood up, his hands trembling with anger.

"You ungrateful brat," his father spat, his face turning red with rage. "I should have never taken you in. You're just like your mother, always causing trouble."

Satoru's fists clenched at his sides, his whole body shaking with rage. "I'm nothing like her. And I never want to see you or your sorry excuse for a family again." With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving his father speechless and seething with anger.

His father stood up, throwing his napkin on the table he followed Satoru. You sat there in disbelief in what just happened. His stepmother, also having the same face as you.

Sitting in silence you could hear your husband argue with his father, swallowing heavily you got up. “Im sorry,” You grabbed your purse and Satoru’s phone, pushing the seat back in the step mom followed you out to the hallway. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to find your husband who was nowhere to be seen.

Your heart ached for him after what he said to his father. He looked like he was about to break down and this wasn’t making it any better. You jolted in surprise as satoru’s stepmother stood in front of you, a look if pity in her face.

"Let them talk, please," she said calmly, her eyes softening as she pulled your arm towards a nearby room. You followed her, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity.

She slammed the door behind you, shutting out the sound of the ongoing argument in the other room. You could still hear muffled voices, but they sounded distant now. The woman quickly made her way to a cabinet, her hands moving frantically as she searched for something.

You stood there, unsure of what to do or say. Suddenly, the arguing stopped and everything went silent. The woman turned to face you, holding a small and soft box in her hands. It was shaped like a rectangle and looked delicate.

She walked towards you, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. "I want you to have this," she said, her voice gentle yet determined.

You stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do or say. You stared back at Satoru's stepmom, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and hope. She extended the box towards you, her hand trembling slightly.

You could feel the weight of the box in your hand as she placed it gently in your palm. The soft material of the box felt cool against your skin. You couldn't help but feel confused as to why she was giving you a random box. But her words echoed in your mind, "Please, open it."

As you slowly opened the box, your eyes widened in amazement. Inside was the most beautiful pearl necklace you had ever seen. The lustrous pearls reflected the light of the room, creating a mesmerizing effect. For a brief moment, you forgot about everything else as you stared at the necklace in awe.

You looked back up at Satoru's stepmom, wanting to ask her why she was giving them to you. But before you could say anything, she spoke. "I want you to have them," she said, her voice filled with emotion.

You looked back up at Satoru's stepmother, who was now looking at you with tears in her eyes. "These were Satoru's birth mother's pearls," she explained, her voice shaking with emotion. "I want you to have them." You were taken aback by her words and felt a lump form in your throat.

Without another thought, you extended your arms towards her, offering to return the necklace. But she shook her head, her tears now falling freely. "I couldn't possibly," you said, your voice cracking. You looked at her, unsure of what to do.

She sighed, her eyes filled with guilt as she spoke. "I used to be one of her best friends," she said, her voice strained with emotion. "And every time I see you," she paused, taking a step closer and placing a hand on your cheek, "you just remind me of her so much." Her eyes brimmed with tears, her voice breaking with each word.

You were utterly confused. He married his ex-wife's best friend? Slowly, you began walking towards the door, trying to process everything that was being said. Her comment still lingered in your mind - just like Satoru's mother? What did that mean?

As you reached for the doorknob, you couldn't help but feel a wave of confusion wash over you. What the hell was this lady talking about? Who was Satoru's mother and what did she have to do with you? You couldn't wrap your head around it, but one thing was for sure - something was definitely off about this situation.

You opened the door, shoving the pearl necklace into your purse, not caring if the stepmother followed you. The tension between the two of you had reached its breaking point, and you just wanted to escape. As you walked through the house, you noticed how quiet it was.

Your heart started to race as you called out for your husband, Satoru. But there was no response.

Your mind started to race with worry as you frantically searched every corner of the house, your anxiety growing with each passing moment. Where could he be? Panic started to rise in your chest as you thought about all the possibilities. You wanted to go home, to your own safe haven where everything was familiar.

As you placed a hand on your head, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. The stress and fear were taking a toll on your body, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up in your own bed. But as you furrowed your brow in pain, you realized that you might not make it home.

You wanted to throw up badly, the overwhelming emotions and physical symptoms becoming too much to handle. You were desperate for answers, for your husband to appear and make everything okay.

But for now, all you could do was try to hold it together and wait for him to return.

As you walked towards the end of the hall, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you. You turned around to see Satoru, your husband, pinned to the wall by his father. His father had a tight grip on the collar of his shirt, and Satoru's face was covered in blood. His hair was a mess and his clothes were torn.

Your heart raced as you saw the rage on his father's face. This was something you had never seen before. You could hear Satoru's strained breathing as his father continued to yell at him. Without a second thought, you sprinted towards them, pushing his father off of Satoru.

Your eyes narrowed at his father, your own anger rising. You turned to Satoru, who was slumped against the wall, unable to even hold his head up.

His eyes were unfocused and his breathing was shallow. Your hands trembled as you reached for his face, lifting it gently to make eye contact with his blue eyes that were void of any emotion.

You could see the pain and exhaustion in his face, and your heart broke for him. You wiped away some of the blood from his mouth with your thumb, the sight making tears prick at your eyes. "Are you okay?" you asked, your voice trembling with worry. You wanted nothing more than to take away his pain and make everything right again.

He didn't respond at first, his eyes still distant and void of emotion. But then, he slowly nodded his head, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm fine."

As you held Satoru's face in your hands, you could see the pain and fear in his eyes. His father had always been strict, but you had never seen him act with such violence towards his own son. "What did you do to him?" you demanded, turning to face the man who had raised your husband.

"He disrespected me and our family name," his father growled, his eyes still filled with anger. "He needs to learn his place."

"He disrespected you?" you scoffed. "You're the one who's been disrespecting him for years. Treating him like he's nothing."

His father's face twisted into a sneer. "You don't understand. He's a disgrace to our family name. He's weak and worthless. He deserves to be taught a lesson."

You bristled at his words, feeling your own anger rise. "How can you say that about your own son? He's your flesh and blood, and you treat him like he's nothing. It's no wonder he's become distant and withdrawn."

His father's eyes flashed with fury. "He's a failure, just like his mother. I won't have him dragging our family name through the mud.

"You're the one who's dragging it through the mud," you retorted, stepping between him and Satoru's form. "You're the one who's so consumed with pride and tradition that you can't see the pain you're causing your own son."

"You will not speak to me that way," his father growled, his hand raised threateningly.

"I will speak to you however I see fit," you replied, your voice shaking with anger. You grabbed your husband making your way out of the house.

You grabbed the small cotton ball from the first aid kit and carefully dabbed it with alcohol, making sure to disinfect it before bringing it up to your husband's cut lip.

He winced and hissed in pain as you gently dabbed the wound, his breathing becoming more labored. His shirt was nowhere to be seen, most likely discarded in a fit of frustration or ripped in the heat of the moment.

You rolled your eyes at his overreaction and continued to clean the cut. Your husband stared at you, his intense blue eyes practically piercing your soul. The bathroom light shone on his face, making his features stand out even more as he sat on the counter, towering over you.

Despite the tension and discomfort, you couldn't help but appreciate his handsome features and the way his eyes softened as he looked at you.

His eyes scanned your face, taking in every detail with a mix of pain and regret. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath, and his voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke.

"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes still locked on yours. You couldn't help but scoff at his words, feeling a surge of anger and frustration rise within you.

"Why are you apologizing?" you asked, your voice laced with bitterness. Despite your feelings, you couldn't help but reach for the wet towel and dab at the blood stains on his pale skin. He looked like a mess, his hair disheveled and his face bruised.

"Y/N," he said, his voice trailing off as he reached for your hand. Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, his warm fingers wrapping around your arm.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his grip on your waist tightening. "You know I hate you and yet you still try to make this marriage work."

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling a mix of anger and confusion. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice softening as you met his gaze. "Can you please stop moving before I give you another bruise?"

He nodded, a small smile curling onto his lips as he allowed you to tend to his wounds. His eyes never left yours, and for a moment, you both were lost in each other's gaze.

As you pushed his white hair back and rubbed the blood off his face, you couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity and longing. Despite everything, there was still a part of you that cared for him, that wanted things to work out between you.

"Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "For taking care of me, even though I don't deserve it."

You swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in your throat. "I'm doing it because it's my job," you replied, trying to sound cold and distant. But deep down, you knew it was more than that.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "No, you're doing it because you still care," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You pulled away, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "I don't care," you said, your voice betraying you.

He chuckled softly, his hand still resting on your waist. "You can keep telling yourself that, but we both know the truth."

You didn't know how to respond to his question, so you just focused on cleaning his wounds.

The room was quiet except for the sound of the running water and your gentle movements as you tended to his injuries. You tried to ignore the way his touch was making you feel, but it was difficult as his eyes were soft and his lips pursed into a thin line, flinching with every dab of alcohol you put on his cuts.

As you worked, you couldn't help but notice that his body was slightly bruised up, but there were no cuts except on his face. His lips had a gash and the top of his eyebrow was also cut. You furrowed your eyebrows in concern, wondering what could have caused such injuries.

You continued to clean his wounds, your fingers gently tracing over his skin as you wiped away the blood. His breathing became harder and you could feel his fingers clenching your waist. You couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness towards him, wanting to ease his pain and make him feel better.

As you stood there in the dimly lit room, you could feel the weight of his body leaning onto you. His warm breath tickled your neck as he let out a heavy sigh, his forehead resting against your shoulder.

You couldn't help but notice the familiar scent of your perfume filling his nostrils, a scent he had always loved. You were taken aback by his sudden vulnerability, but you kept your composure and gently placed the wet towel onto your thighs before wrapping your arms around him.

Caressing his back you could feel the tension in his body slowly dissipating. His breathing became more steady and you could hear his staggered breaths. "I don't hate you Satou," you whispered softly, trying to reassure him.

"And I hate that I can't bring myself to hate you." You could feel his grip on you tighten as he leaned into your embrace.

Placing your arms on his head, you brought his face to yours. You could see the exhaustion and pain in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.

"Even though you might be killing me," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, "I still find myself waiting for you." You gently placed your palms on his cheeks, squishing his soft and pale skin between your fingers.

His eyes wandered all over your face, taking in every feature as if he wanted to remember every detail. You could see the guilt and remorse in his eyes, and it made your heart ache.

He swallowed heavily, his adams apple jolting with the movement. "I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. Tears glistened in his eyes and his nose turned bright red, a sign that he was truly upset.

But you couldn't accept his apology, not after everything he had put you through. You lowered your gaze, grabbing a towel and gently dabbing it onto his bruised and cut face. He winced slightly at your touch, but you continued to tend to his injuries. It was a familiar routine, one that had become all too common in your arranged marriage.

But today was different. Today, he had finally shown some remorse for his actions. And yet, it was too little too late.

You had already made up your mind to ask for a divorce, tired of living in a loveless and abusive marriage. "I'm not going to accept your apology, Satoru," you said firmly, your voice tinged with sadness. You said softly, your eyes meeting his. "I can't keep living like this. I deserve better."

He watched you with his mouth closed, not saying a single word to you but rather admiring you under the bathroom light.

As you finished cleaning his face, you couldn't help but comment on his appearance. "Have you been sleeping? You look like shit," you said, worry evident in your tone.

You grabbed the towel, rinsing it and squeezing the blood off before using it to wipe his face one last time.

He sighed and backed away from you, taking the towel from your grip. He brought it up to his face and rubbed it, his face now cleaner than before. You couldn't help but notice the tension in his jaw as he watched you, and you wondered what was going through his mind.

“Yes,” He said sighing he backed up from you, taking the towel away from your grip. He brought it up to his face and rubbed it, his face cleaner than before.

His usually bright eyes were now dull and his usually perfect hair was disheveled. You couldn't let this continue, so you decided to confront him about it.

"Bullshit Satoru, I can see your eyebags getting worse everyday," you said firmly, propping yourself off the sink and approaching him. He followed you silently into your bedroom, looking slightly guilty.

You walked over to his closet and slowly opened the door, revealing a small room filled with his clothes and belongings. You reached in and pulled out one of his sleeping t-shirts, knowing it would be more comfortable for him. Turning off the lights and closing the door, you handed him the shirt.

But as you expected, he hesitated. "I can't put it on, my arms are kinda messed up right now," he said, giving you an awkward smile. You rolled your eyes and instructed him to put his hands up. With gentle and steady movements, you helped him put on the shirt, making sure not to cause him any pain.

Walking towards the door of the guest bedroom, your husband Satoru's voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned to look at him, his body already tucked under the covers and his face still bruised from the fight earlier.

Despite his injuries, he still managed to look cute, and you couldn't help but feel conflicted. "Goodnight Satoru," you said, trying to hide the hurt in your voice as you grabbed your nightgown from the other side of the bed.

But something in your husband's brain was telling him not to let you go just yet. "Y/N, wait," he called out softly, his hand reaching out towards you.

You hesitated, your hand on the doorknob, as you looked at him with a mix of emotions. "Please, sleep with me tonight," he pleaded, his voice filled with longing.

You scoffed, feeling a mix of anger and sadness at his request, but before you could open the door and leave, he spoke again. "I can only sleep when I know you're with me, so please," he begged, his voice slightly louder this time.

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion and stress from the day. As you removed your dress, your hand instinctively went to your forehead, trying to massage away the tension. You changed into your comfortable nightgown and made your way to the bed, grateful for the warm and inviting covers waiting for you. Your husband, who had been sitting on the bed, gazed at you with concern in his eyes. You climbed into bed, facing him and oddly finding comfort in his presence.

You traced your finger gently over the cut on his cheek, a reminder of the fight he had with his father, and felt a rush of emotions flood through you. Despite the arranged marriage and the supposed hate between the two of you, there was an undeniable chemistry and attraction that simmered between your bodies.

Satoru's hand rested on your waist, his thumb gently caressing your skin, as he leaned in closer to you. You could feel his warm breath on your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Without hesitation, you placed your hand on his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your palm. As your fingers traced his lips, he let out a low hiss, his eyes filled with hurt.

You could feel his warm breath on your neck as he nuzzled closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you. The scent of his cologne filled your senses, as you ran your fingers through his soft, white hair.

You could feel his heart beating against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own. “Goodnight toru,” You hugged him back just as tightly, cherishing this intimate moment between the two of you.

“Goodnight Y/N,” He mumbled his voice muffled against the skin of your neck.

The moon light shined against your face, his body deep into yours. You wanted to get up and leave once he fell asleep but for some reason you found yourself comforting him as he slept. Caressing his hair and tracing circles onto his back.

That familiar warmth of his filling your body. Waiting for a few minutes for him to fall asleep, you could hear that familiar sound of his breathing. The small snores coming from your husband, his breath calm.

The moonlight cast a peaceful glow on your husband's face as you lay in bed together. His body was intertwined with yours, and for a moment, you felt content.

But as his breathing slowed and he drifted off to sleep, you knew that this was just a temporary moment of comfort. You wanted to get up and leave, as you had done countless times before, but something held you back.

You gently stroked his hair and traced circles on his back, you couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. You knew that once he woke up, he would go back to treating you with coldness and indifference. But for now, in this moment, you could pretend that everything was okay.

As you tried to get up from the bed, his grip tightened around you. "Don't go," he mumbled in his sleep. You froze, not knowing how to respond. He hated you, or at least that's what he had made you believe. But in this moment, as he held you close, it seemed like maybe there was a small part of him that cared.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could change between the two of you. But for now, you would stay by his side, basking in the warmth of his body and the sound of his breathing, hoping that this moment would never end.

"Why do you do this to me?" you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. He stirred, his eyes opening slightly as he looked at you with a mix of confusion and hurt.

"I don't understand why you treat me this way," you continued, tears welling up in your eyes. "I want to hate you, but I can't. And it's killing me."

He didn't say anything, but his grip on you tightened even more, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, and in that moment, you knew that he felt something for you, even if he couldn't admit it.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I don't know how to be any different."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness and longing as you looked at him, knowing that he hated you but also knowing that there was a part of him that was starting to love you. It was a complicated and painful situation, but you couldn't deny the feelings that were growing inside of you.

"I wish things were different," you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "I wish you could love me the way Im starting to love you."

He didn't respond, but you could see the pain in his eyes as he looked at you. You both knew that the situation was complicated and that there were no easy solutions. But in that moment, you felt a sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for the two of you to find a way to make it work.

Jiyuu couldn't help but giggle as she leaned in closer to the worker, placing her hand on his arm.

She couldn't help but notice how defined his muscles were, even though he was wearing a long sleeve shirt. She could practically see every contour and ripple of his muscles.

"Can you please ring that up for me?" She pouted her lips, giving him a flirtatious smile. The worker looked flustered but nodded quickly, taking the gorgeous chanel dress to the front of the store.

As she waited, Jiyuu sipped on the complimentary champagne, enjoying the luxurious atmosphere of the high-end boutique. Her heels clicked on the shiny marble floor as she browsed through racks of designer clothing, feeling like a celebrity.

She walked towards the cashier of the store, feeling a pang of jealousy and annoyance. Her friend, who was browsing through the coats, noticed her expression and raised an eyebrow.

"You know, I still can't comprehend how my Satoru is still with that bitch Y/N," she muttered, tilting her head to get a better look at her friend.

Her friend let out a giggle and said, "Maybe he's falling for her." She then proceeded to try on a coat and check herself out in the mirror. "And all your hard work to seduce him would have been for nothing."

Jiyuu rolled her eyes and grabbed a pair of shoes, calling for the worker to ring them up as well. "That's not funny," she bit her lip in frustration.

Ever since you caught Satoru and her together in the office, he had been acting distant and cold towards her. It was as if he was slipping away from her grasp.

"She can't even give him a child, meanwhile I'm here waiting for him to leave her," Jiyuu sighed, her frustration growing. Her friend could barely hold back her laughter at the situation.

As she paid for her items, Jiyuu couldn't help but feel anxious and worried about her relationship with Satoru. She knew she had to do something soon before it was too late.

The two women made their way through the busy streets of the city, the warm sun shining down on their faces. As they walked, they chatted about the latest gossip and news in their social circles. Suddenly, Jiyuu's friend turned to her with a sly smile.

"You know, if he does leave you. Why don't you just go for Y/N's ex?" she suggested. "I heard he's a well-known CEO...and quite the catch."

Jiyuu's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Is that so?" she replied, her tone dripping with interest. Her friend nodded, her own excitement evident.

"There's going to be an event here tonight and I heard all the big names from Tokyo will be there. Including him."

"Do you know where?" she asked eagerly, her pace quickening. Her friend pulled out her phone and checked the event details.

Jiyuu's friend nodded, her eyes scanning the street for any familiar faces. "Yeah, it's at the Mori Art Museum in Roppongi. You should come with me, we can scope out the competition and maybe even catch a glimpse of the elusive ex-boyfriend."

Jiyuu's heart raced with excitement at the thought of seeing her ex again, and potentially getting revenge by getting close to his rival

Jiyuu's heels clicked on the luxurious floor, a cup of wine in her hand. Her long brown hair was perfectly curled, cascading down her back. She wore a beautiful silk green dress and had recently splurged on a pair of Chanel heels, which adorned her feet with elegance.

As she walked through the art gallery, Jiyuu couldn't help but feel like all eyes were on her. She was the center of attention, the star of the show. She smiled and greeted everyone she passed, her eyes frantically searching for any sign of Toji or Satoru.

Taking a sip of her expensive wine, Jiyuu savored the taste and relished in the fact that only the wealthy could afford such a luxury at an art gallery. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and made her way towards her friend, who was wearing a stunning dark blue gown.

"Jiyuu!" her friend exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug. "You look absolutely gorgeous tonight." She stepped back, admiring Jiyuu's outfit. "I mean, you always look gorgeous, but tonight you're on a whole other level."

Jiyuu laughed and thanked her friend, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction at her appearance. But just as quickly, her friend's expression turned serious.

She turned around, as she pulled a man by her side, meeting he sight of a tall and broad-shouldered man. Her heart started to race as she fully took in his appearance - the dark, intense eyes that seemed to be staring right at her.

“Toji, meet Jiyuu, a friend of mine," her friend said with a smile before leaving the two of them alone to chat.

Jiyuu couldn't help but notice the scar on his lips, the way his black hair fell slightly in his face, and the overall intense aura he exuded. She couldn't deny it - he was undeniably hot. He smirked at her and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

"Nice to meet you, Jiyuu," his deep, husky voice sent shivers down her spine as his adam's apple bobbed up and down with each word.

He was dressed in a sharp black tuxedo that showed off his well-built body. He practically towered over Jiyuu, making her feel small in comparison. "Nice to meet you too," she managed to say with a smile, unable to tear her gaze away from him.

As she finished her wine and placed the glass on a passing server's tray, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the thought of getting to know this intriguing man.

She cleared her throat and followed him around the gallery, her eyes scanning the various pieces of art. She couldn't help but feel a bit confused by some of them. "What do you think?" she asked, turning to look at his puzzled expression.

He looked absolutely baffled, as if he didn't know what was going on. "To be quite honest, it's a bit...shit," he said, turning to look at her with a slight smile on his face.

She couldn't help but giggle at his honesty. "It's okay if you don't know art that well," she reassured him, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards another painting. It was practically identical to the one they had just seen.

"This one's good, no?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking unimpressed. "No," he replied bluntly.

She couldn't contain her laughter as she led him to the next painting, already anticipating his reaction. It was a similar style to the first two, but she couldn't help but admire it. "What do you think of this one?" she asked, hoping he would appreciate it more than the others.

He looked at it for a few moments before finally nodding his head in approval. "I actually like this one," he admitted, surprising her.

As they continued to make their way through the gallery, she couldn't help but enjoy his honest and sometimes humorous commentary on the art. Despite their differing opinions, she was glad to have someone to share the experience with.

They sat down at the bar, ordering drinks and continuing their conversation. Jiyuu mentioned how she worked as a secretary and Toji talked about his job in finance. They both shared their dreams and aspirations, and Jiyuu couldn't help but feel drawn to Toji's passion and drive.

“You’re quite the comedian aren’t you?” She smiled sipping on her drink.

"I'm glad I can make you laugh," Toji replied, taking a sip of his drink. "It's just my way of making this stuffy art gallery a little more bearable."

Jiyuu laughed again, leaning against the bar. "Well, I appreciate it. I don't think I could have made it through this exhibit without you."

She stared at Toji her eyes scanning all over the mans fave and body. She felt goosebumps just by the way he was looking at her, like if she was his prey. “So what do you want in life Toji?”

Toji chuckled, looking down at his drink. " I think someone to share it with. Someone who's kind, loving, and understanding."

Jiyuu's heart skipped a beat as she saw an opportunity to make her move. "Well, I can definitely relate to that. I just want a loving husband who I can share my life with."

Toji's eyes met hers, a spark of interest in them. "Is that so? Well, I think we may have more in common than I thought."

Jiyuu smiled, feeling a sense of triumph. She knew she had Toji's attention now.

"Well, I do have a way with words," Toji replied, his mischievous smile never fading. "But I have to say, you're not so bad yourself."

She placed her hand on his arm, giving him a flirtatious smile. "Well, I can be that wife for you," she purred, hoping to spark some interest in him.

Toji chuckled, gently removing her hand from his arm. "As flattering as that is, Jiyuu, I think I'm just fine being single for now. But I appreciate the offer."

Jiyuu's smile faltered, but she quickly recovered and continued to flirt with him. As the night went on, she couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for using Toji in her plan to seduce him. But she pushed those thoughts aside, reminding herself that this was all for her own happiness.

And if Toji ended up being a part of that happiness, then it would all be worth it.

Just in the other side of the art gallery you had walked out of your car, your hand resting on Satoru’s arm. You were dressed in an exclusive Chanel 94' blue flowy dress, your hair styled up in a beautiful updo that perfectly complemented your outfit.

Satoru, your husband, walked beside you, his hand resting on your arm. Despite the obvious cut on his lip from the fight two days ago, he still looked dashing in his classic yet stylish suit. As you approached the front of the gallery, you could feel the stares and whispers of the people around you, admiring your elegant appearance.

Climbing up the stairs, you gripped onto Satoru's arm for support, not wanting to trip in your heels. The cameras were already flashing as you reached the top, the photographers eager to capture a picture of the power couple.

"Miss Gojo, please look over here," one of the photographers called out, and you turned towards the cameras, posing with your husband as they snapped away. It was the opening of a brand new art collection, designed by one of Satoru's friends.

As the cameras continued to flash, you couldn't help but lean your head on your husband's shoulder, feeling grateful for his presence by your side. You ignored the questions about his cut lip, not wanting to spoil such a special night.

Finally, you reached the entrance of the art gallery, and you immediately let go of Satoru's arm, earning a look of guilt in his eyes. But you simply smiled and walked inside, eager to see the beautiful art pieces that awaited you.

The art gallery was bustling with people, the air filled with the excited chatter of guests admiring the beautiful artwork on display. As you walked in, you couldn't help but pause and take in the stunning view of colorful paintings and sculptures adorning the walls and floors.

Your husband, Satoru, walked beside you, his arm securely around your waist as he guided you through the crowd.

The room was filled with soft lighting, casting a warm glow on the walls adorned with beautiful paintings. Each artwork was unique, showcasing different techniques and styles.

A familiar face popped up in the bustling crowd, causing a smile to immediately spread across your face. "Sukuna?" you asked, making your way over to him.

He turned to look at you, his red eyes scanning your face before returning the smile. "Y/N, it's nice to see you again," he said, his pink hair standing out even more in the dimly lit gallery.

"How have you been?" he asked, guiding you around the room as you caught up on each other's lives.

Meanwhile, your husband stood off to the side, watching you with a mix of curiosity and jealousy. Satoru narrowed his eyes, feeling a twinge of envy as he watched you smile and laugh with another man.

He couldn't quite explain why, but he couldn't shake off the feeling. Trying to distract himself, he grabbed a glass of wine and downed it in one gulp, feeling the liquid burn down his throat.

"Listen, I know you graduated from Columbia University," he said, his voice sincere. "And if you ever need a job in finance, I own a private equity and I would be delighted to have you work for me."

Your eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of being able to go back to work. It had been a while since you had a steady job, and this opportunity was too good to pass up.

"Really?" you asked, your smile growing wider.

"Absolutely," he replied, his red eyes scanning your face. "I would be honored to have you as one of my associates."

A glimmer of hope shined in your eyes as you thought about the possibilities this job could bring. You thanked him profusely, feeling grateful for the offer.

"Well, I would be delighted," you said, a sense of relief washing over you. Suddenly, you felt someone's gaze on you and turned to see your significant other looking at you with pride and admiration. You smiled, grateful for their support and excited for this new opportunity in your career.

Satoru couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched you from the other side of the art gallery. His eyes never left you as you laughed and giggled, your chest rising and falling with each breath. Seeing you with Sukuna, his rival, made the pit of his stomach churn. He wanted to go over and steal you away, but he knew better than to interfere.

As you walked around the gallery, admiring the artwork, Satoru couldn't help but notice how your smile seemed to light up the room. It was a smile he had never seen directed at him before.

His icy blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the room. But then you leaned in and whispered something to Sukuna, a genuine smile on your face. Satoru's jaw clenched as he watched the two of you, feeling a surge of possessiveness wash over him.

When you finally left Sukuna's side and walked into a separate room, Satoru couldn't resist following you. He wanted to know what had made you smile like that, what had made you whisper to Sukuna.

As you walked towards the room, your heels clicked on the polished wooden floor, adding a sense of elegance to the atmosphere. Your dress flowed gracefully behind you, catching the light as you moved.

Suddenly, you were approached by a waiter holding a tray of champagne glasses. "A drink Miss? Complimentary from the artist," he offered with a smile.

You declined politely, wanting to fully immerse yourself in the art. As you entered the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. The paintings seemed to come to life, drawing you in with their intricate details and vibrant colors.

You walked closer to each one, admiring the brushstrokes and composition. Your husband joined you, both of you silently taking in the beauty of the paintings. It was a truly magical experience, being surrounded by such incredible artwork.

As you stood in front of the painting, you couldn't help but feel drawn to it. The image of two people hugging, their faces obscured but their body language conveying a sense of tension and distance, captivated you. The soft, muted colors and smudged lines only added to the painting's allure, making it both mysterious and alluring.

You could feel his gaze on you, but you were too caught up in the painting to turn and meet his eyes. It was as if the painting had cast a spell on you, and you couldn't look away.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Satoru finally spoke, breaking the silence. You tore your gaze away from the painting to look at him, noticing the way his eyes sparkled as he watched you.

"It's beautiful," you replied, your hands dropping to your sides, just inches away from his.

You could feel the heat radiating off of his hand, as if he wanted to take yours and interlock your fingers with his. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought, but you pushed it away, knowing that you were both just admiring the painting together.

But as you looked at him, his chest rising and falling with each breath, you couldn't help but admire his own beauty.

"It seems so familiar to me," you said, tilting your head slightly as you studied the painting.

"Like if I was the one who painted this." Your hand brushed against Satoru's, and he immediately looked down at your hand, his eyes lingering there for a moment before meeting yours again.

His gaze was intense, and you could feel your heart rate quickening.

You were struck by how he didn't need to say a word to express his admiration for you. He simply took in your appearance, mesmerized by the way your eyes sparkled as they scanned the paintings in the room. As your hand interlocked with his, you were surprised to find that you didn't flinch at his touch.

Instead, your body seemed to naturally gravitate towards his, fitting together like puzzle pieces.

As you turned to face him, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked at you - like you were the only thing that mattered in the room. His hand tightened around yours, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his cold palm against your warm skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Lost in the intensity of his gaze, you barely registered as his free hand reached up to gently touch your face. His touch was electric, sending a jolt of excitement through your body. Without a word, you both stood there, taking each other in.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, you leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you closed your eyes and savored the moment, not wanting it to end. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of you, lost in each other's presence.

You were hesitant to let go as well, but you knew you needed to give him some space. As you stepped back, you couldn't help but smile at him, feeling the warmth of his embrace still lingering.

“Can you get me some water?" you asked, your voice soft and a little hoarse from talking all night. "I feel a bit parched." He nodded, understanding your request, and slipped away from your grasp.

As he left the room, you could hear the faint murmur of voices coming from the main gallery where everyone was gathered. You took a moment to catch your breath and calm your racing heart before joining them.

Turning a corner, he spotted his friend Kento, surrounded by a group of people who were admiring his artwork. Satoru greeted Kento with a smile, happy to see his friend doing well in the art world.

Approaching Kento, he couldn't help but smile at his friend's surprised expression. "Nanami!" he exclaimed, and they exchanged a warm hug.

"How are you, Satoru?" Kento asked, tucking his hands into his pants. "I'm doing good," Satoru replied, his excitement growing.

"Listen, I was wondering how much you're selling the 'J'adore' painting for." He licked his lips in anticipation, knowing that he needed to have this painting.

Kento chuckled and placed a hand on Satoru's shoulder, "Someone's already offered to buy it, but maybe there's another painting you'd like?" he suggested, scanning the room for another option.

But Satoru was determined to have the 'J'adore' painting. "Listen, whoever the person is paying for it, I'll triple their offer and pay it myself," he stated firmly, a determined look on his face.

But before Kento could respond, Satoru's gaze fell upon a familiar face at the bar. His smile faded as he watched his ex-girlfriend laughing and chatting with another man. He quickly excused himself from Kento's presence, his mind now occupied with thoughts of the past.

Satoru's face twisted in anger as he saw Jiyuu talking to Toji, another man. He couldn't believe she would betray him like this. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he spat, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

Jiyuu rolled her eyes, her attention still focused on Toji. "What, I can't come to these events anymore?" she retorted, ignoring Satoru's presence.

Fueled by disgust and rage, Satoru grabbed Jiyuu's arm and forcefully pulled her away from Toji. She snarled and tried to resist, but he was stronger.

He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her outside, away from the prying eyes of the people inside the gallery. His grip was tight and his face was twisted in disgust.

"What the fuck were you doing talking to him?" he spat, his voice full of anger. Jiyuu rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, a defensive stance she took whenever Satoru got like this. She looked at him with no emotion on her face, making Satoru even more mad.

"He's just a friend," she said, her brown hair slightly messy from their argument. She tried to explain, but Satoru was already past the point of listening.

"I don't care, we're done Jiyuu," he said, his eyes narrowing at her. Jiyuu felt like the world came crashing down on her, her eyes widening as her arms fell to her sides.

"What? Satoru-" she started, but he cut her off with a scoff.

"I said we're done Jiyuu. I'm done with you and I want you to never contact me again," he said, his tone final and cold. Jiyuu couldn't believe what she was hearing. After all they had been through, he was just throwing her away like she meant nothing to him.

"Staying with you after marrying Y/N was a mistake," he added, the words hitting Jiyuu like a punch to the gut.

Jiyuu's heart was pounding in her chest as she listened to Satoru's words. The man she loved, the one she had just married, was telling her that staying with her was a mistake. It felt like a punch to the gut, the words hitting her with a force she couldn't ignore.

Tears welled up in Jiyuu's eyes as she shook her head, desperately grasping at Satoru's arm to stop him from leaving. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. “Satoru, you don't know what you're talking about!" she cried out, her voice shaking with emotion. "She's manipulating you, can't you see that?"

But Satoru pulled his arm away from her, his expression hard and determined. "No, she actually listens to my problems and doesn't disregard my feelings. It's over, Jiyuu," he repeated, his words like a knife through her heart.

Tears streamed down Jiyuu's cheeks as she struggled to stay composed, her mind processing each word with agonizing slowness.

She shook her head again, unable to accept what was happening. "No, Satoru, I'm not letting you walk away from this, from me," she pleaded, her voice breaking with emotion.

Her hands came up to cover her mouth as she tried to stifle her sobs, but they escaped uncontrollably. It felt like her entire world was collapsing around her, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

Her attention was immediately caught when she saw you walking outside, your face etched with confusion as you spotted her and Satoru standing face to face. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you realized it was your husband in front of you. “Satoru?”

He turned to look at you, his eyes softening as they met yours. But before he could say anything, Jiyuu appeared out of nowhere and sprung at him, her lips crashing onto your husband's. You stood there, completely baffled and shocked at what you were witnessing - your husband kissing another woman.

You felt sick to your stomach, wanting to throw up right then and there. The sight of your husband being unfaithful to you was enough to make your blood boil. You couldn't believe what was happening before your very eyes.

As Jiyuu pulled away from Satoru, you couldn't control your emotions any longer. With a clenched jaw and tears in your eyes, you stomped over to him and pushed him away from Jiyuu.

"Y/N, wait-" he started to say, but before he could finish, your hand connected with his cheek in a loud slap. His face turned to one of shock and surprise.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears as you turned to Jiyuu and stared daggers at her. "I'll send you the divorce papers tomorrow," you said through gritted teeth.

"Have fun being with her, Satoru." And with that, you stormed off, leaving them both behind.

As you walked away, tears welled up in your eyes from the pain of being rejected and humiliated. Satoru, who had just been slapped by you, placed a hand on his red cheek and turned to look at her with disgust in his eyes.

"Don't you ever try talking to me or my wife again," he seethed, "or I will fucking make your life a living hell." His nose scrunched up angrily as he ran after you, leaving Jiyuu absolutely baffled and sobbing in the wake of his outburst.

Satoru ran after you calling your name out, the cold hair touching his face making him shiver, in the cold. “Y/N wait,” He said as he caught up to you standing in front of you.

You scoffed, shoving him out of your way as you stormed out of the elegant ballroom. Your heels clicked angrily on the smooth marble floor, the sound echoing through the grand space.

Tears threatened to fall from your beautiful eyes as you struggled to keep your composure. Satoru chased after you, begging for forgiveness and trying to explain himself, but you were too hurt and angry to listen. The elegant chandeliers above you seemed to mock you as you made your dramatic exit, the soft light reflecting off the tears that finally escaped and trailed down your cheeks.

The cold air hit you as you burst out of the building, the tears freezing on your cheeks. You could hear him calling out your name, but you didn't stop. You kept running, not wanting to face the reality of his lies.

With a sudden sense of urgency, he swiftly placed his hand on his tie and began undoing it, his eyes never leaving yours. "Y/N," he said, his voice laced with a mixture of determination and desperation. He grabbed your hand and turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours for a sign of understanding.

As you met his gaze, you could see one side of his cheek turning a bright shade of red, evidence of the slap you had just delivered moments ago. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his heart seemingly ready to leap out of his chest. The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with the unspoken words and emotions that hung between you.

"Don't do this to me, don't you dare say anything," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. Your heart was racing, your mind racing even faster as you tried to anticipate what he was going to say. He stood there, his gaze locked on you, watching your every move.

Your bottom lip quivered as you bit down on it, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. Your hands trembled at your sides, your whole body tense with anticipation.

Despite your best efforts, a few tears escaped and rolled down your cheeks, smudging the makeup you had carefully applied earlier. But even with your makeup ruined, you still looked breathtakingly beautiful. He couldn't take his eyes off you, captivated by your vulnerability and your strength all at once.

"Y/N please, it's not what it looks like." Satoru pleaded, reaching out to grab your hand. But you pulled away, tears streaming down your face.

"It's never what it looks like, is it?" You sobbed, trying to compose yourself. "I told her to back off," Satoru insisted, pulling you closer and wiping away your tears with his thumb. His touch was soft and warm, but it did little to ease the pain in your heart.

"That's what you always say," you said, looking into his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that used to make your heart skip a beat. But now, they only filled you with anger and disappointment.

"I'm done pretending like every time I see you with him, it doesn't hurt me." Satoru's voice cracked as he grabbed your puffy face. "No, Satoru," you pushed him off, feeling a surge of anger. "I'm done pretending and trying to make this marriage work. It's always been her, hasn't it?"

Satoru's eyes fell to the ground, his guilt evident. "I should have known that what you said was a lie. It's always been her," you said, your voice shaking with emotion.

You picked up your dress and began walking towards the stairs, your heels clicking loudly on the concrete. Tears continued to fall down your face as you ran down the stairs, desperate to escape the pain and betrayal.

But just as you thought you were free, Satoru appeared in front of you, his eyes intense and his breaths heavy. "Do you know what you do to me, Y/N?" he asked, his voice laced with frustration and longing. "Do you think it's easy for me to see you with that man?"

He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, his heart beating wildly. You felt the heat radiating off his body, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your own chest. "Can't you feel it, Y/N?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

"Every time I see you, it's like a fire ignites inside me," he continued, his voice becoming even more strained. "A longing that only you can quench." You could see the raw emotion in his eyes, and your heart ached for him. "And when I'm away from you, it's like a part of me is missing." His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt yourself getting lost in his gaze.

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. You could feel your heart beating so fast, and you could tell that Satoru was feeling the same way. In that moment, it was like the rest of the world faded away, leaving just the two of you standing there, caught up in your emotions.

A tense silence filled the air as you stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at your estranged husband. The memories of his betrayal still fresh in your mind, but a small part of you couldn't help but feel a spark of hope as he stood there, pleading for another chance.

You let out a bitter laugh, "And what? You expect me to believe you? You embarrassed me in front of everyone, and I still want a divorce." Your voice was laced with anger and hurt as you spoke, your eyes never leaving his face.

He took a step closer to you, his expression pleading. "I know I messed up, Y/N. But I want you. I can't let you go."

You shook your head, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "You can't just say that and expect everything to be okay," you retorted, turning away from him and starting to walk down the stairs. Your heart was heavy with conflicting feelings, but you knew you couldn't just forgive him and go back to how things were.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you spotted your ride home waiting for you. Relief washed over you, and you quickened your pace to get to the car. Opening the car door you let out a sigh.

But before you could even close the door, Satoru stopped it and pulled you out of the car. Your heart raced as he stood in front of you, his gaze intense and determined. "What the fuck are you doing, Satoru?" you yelled, pushing against his chest. "I said leave me alone!"

He didn't budge, his grip on your arms tightening. "I can't, Y/N. I won't let you go. I'll do anything to make things right between us." His words were filled with desperation and sincerity, and you could see the regret in his eyes.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's not that simple, Satoru. You broke my trust and our marriage.”

"I know this marriage was arranged, but damn it, Y/N, I'm starting to fall for you." You were taken aback by his confession, but before you could respond, his lips crashed onto yours in a heated kiss.

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end notes; this chap after the leaks is gonna break my heart goodbye

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lnfours · 3 days

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bestfriend!reader craving physical touch but her family never liked physical touch so she doesnt know how to ask for it. lando and her are watching a movie at his place in bed. and she keep glancing over at his lap because she wants nothing more than just to curl up between his legs and have his arms wrap around her, but she cant bring herself to ask!! and eventually lando realizes and nudges her. and he pats his leg and hes like "come here" in the softest voice imaginable - 🍒anon

ANON!!!!!!!!!! screaming into my pillow. also… i kinda did something different towards the end, you’ll see. i hope you like it! 🫶🏻

lando brainrot? lando brainrot.

the movie was like background noise for you. your eyes somewhere else as the light of the tv lit up the dark room.

lando was locked in, his focus on the movie in front of him. which gave you the perfect opportunity to let your eyes rake down his body. your eyes landing on his lap, your mind wandering to think about what it would be like to sit on his lap. his arms wrapped around you, his face nuzzled into your neck. it sounded so heavenly-

“you okay?

his voice pulls you out of your daydream. you meet his eyes, a soft smile on his face as he looks over at you.

“yeah, sorry,” you said, “just zoned out for a second.”

he nodded before he stuck his hand out to you, his voice soft as he spoke, “c’mere,”

you gave him a questioning look, but did as he asked you to. you put your hand in his as he pulled you closer to where he was sitting. he put his hand on your waist, helping you as your legs moved to straddle his, his hands putting your arms on his shoulder.

he smiled at you, eyes bright, “hey,”

you chuckled softly, “hey.”

“is this what you wanted?” he asked softly. you nodded, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the tiny curls on the nape of his neck. he was pretty up close, the little moles you have always wanted to place kisses on now sitting directly in front of your face. taunting you.

his eyes were taking in your face too, how your eyes sparkled down at him. you were stunning, the definition of an angel in his eyes. it was no lie that he had always thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but you had been oblivious to his bluntness.

“lan,” you breathed out softly, his hands rubbing small shapes into your hips. he hummed at you, not shying away from the fact that his eyes keep traveling to your lips.

“kiss me,” he said, his eyes finally finding yours, “please.”

you didn’t waste a second longer, your lips pressing against his. he was quick to kiss you back, your lips moving together as he pulled you closer. there was no space between your bodies as he placed a hand on your cheek, deepening the kiss. the line you both had been afraid to cross now left in the dust as you both dove in head first into the uncharted territory.

he moved the two of you, not daring the break the kiss as he placed a hand on your back, guiding you to lay back onto the couch. you did, pulling him with you as he smiled against your lips, him pulling away for a second to breathe. his fingers traced circles onto the outer part of your thigh, a comforting touch that only he could give you.

“i’ve been waiting forever to do that.”

you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close again. he smiled against your lips as you spoke, “no sense in wasting anymore time now.”

566 notes · View notes

satorusugurugurl · 3 days

Note

heyy!! how ru? soooo, i was thinking about jjk men found out that reader has problems with food, if you are okay with it, could you write it? if you r not its okay! you are a great writer and i love reading your stuff!! kisses!

JJK Men: When You Have an Issue With Food

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna

Word Count: 3,907

Warning: Themes of eating disorders, issues with food, negative body image, suggestiveness, fluff in the end

A/N: Thank you for the request, Nonnie! As someone who has struggled with issues regarding an eating disorder, this took me a bit of time to figure out, but I feel proud of it. Please seek out resources if you struggle as well! There are so many helpful resources that have helped me!

Gojo Satoru:

Satoru loved sweets. He developed his love in high school when stimulating his brain, which led to him developing a sweet tooth, so you could always count on him to bring home all sorts of sweets, which was nice. You enjoyed it until someone at work mentioned that it looked like you gained weight. You brushed it off at first, but it struck a nerve when she said you might lose your boyfriend if you continued eating the sweets. Did you put on a few pounds since you started dating Gojo? Was it all the sweets you had been enjoying with him?

The comment had you poking at your stomach in the mirror with a pout. That woman blatantly announcing their view in front of your coworkers was rude. It was embarrassing and had you questioning if Satoru had noticed if you gained weight. You need to stop indulging in sweets, or more people might start making comments about your weight. Or the worst-case scenario was that Satoru would leave you.

That same day, you went straight to the gym when you got home. You heard footsteps rushing to the door when you returned to your apartment. Satoru nearly tackled you as he kissed your cheeks repeatedly as you headed for the kitchen.

“Hi, Toru!” You giggled as Satoru shuffled with you into the kitchen, not once letting you go. “How did the mission go?”

“It was boring! I wish I could’ve brought you with me!” White strands of hair fly as he yanked his head away from your face. “But I brought you home some souvenirs.” He handed you a pink bag with a cute cat label. “Macaroons from France! This shop is known for its take on different flavors. Peanut butter and jelly blueberry and cinnamon roll. I bought one of every flavor for us to try.” His smile was wide and warm, leaving you feeling sick.

“Oh, thanks.” You placed the bag onto the counter with an evident frown. One Satoru saw your unenthusiastic reaction, and it made him pout.

“What’s wrong? You love macaroons.”

“I do. I just—” Nausea twisted in your stomach. “I can’t eat them anymore.”

The combination of ‘I do’ and ‘I can’t’ had Satoru reeling in stunned silence. “What do you mean you can't? Did you develop a macaroon allergy while I was gone?”

“No, I can’t keep eating sweets, Toru.”

Satoru could tell something had happened while he was gone. Usually, you jumped at the chance to try an exotic sweet he’d bring home. For you to be so dismissive wasn’t like you at all. He’d only been gone for a week, and suddenly, you had an aversion to sweets.

His fingers gently grab your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The second his eyes meet yours, he can feel your anguish. Tears glimmer in your eyes as a little hiccups sound in your chest. Seeing you in such a state had your boyfriend searching you for injuries only to realize it wasn’t on the surface but deeper.

“Sweetheart.” The tenderness and concern in his voice make you cry harder. “Baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Satoru pulls you to the couch, sitting you directly on his lap.

“M-My c-co—“ si s wreck through you as you try to speak, “my coworker—”

“Your coworker what? Who do I need to Hollow Purple?”

Satoru runs his hands gently up and down your back, which is soothing. “They were asking if I gained wei—weight. A-And they said that I would lose you if I gained more.” His hands stopped moving, and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“I’m sorry. What the fuck did you just say?”

You spilled your guts out, telling him everything from what they said to you to going to the gym. Never once amid your rant did he interrupt you. He just held you, pressing kisses against your tear-stained cheeks until you shuddered with a sigh once you were done.

“Baby, my sweet, beautiful girlfriend. Fuck them. Fuck those assholes; God, I hate people so much.” His hands grab your hips, making you straddle him to stare into his eyes. “I think you’re beautiful just the way you are. If you want different souvenirs, I’ll bring you something different. If you want me to bring you back, I will.” His hands gently stroke at your tear-stained cheeks. “But don’t let a bunch of assholes dictate what you can and can’t eat.”

Sincere cease the stream tears. “You think I’m perfect?” A smile graces your face, causing Satoru’s heart to flutter.

“Yes! I love you, whether you indulge in sweets or focus on going to the gym. Regardless of your choice, I’ll support you, whether I bring you home more treats or join you at the gym; say the word, and I’ll support you no matter what.”

You gently pressed your lips against him. To which he gladly reciprocated, holding you tight as you messily made out like horn-crazed teenagers. You happily munched on the macaroons Satoru brought home the next day at work when your phone rang. The woman who had commented on your weight, Tadashi, appears on the caller ID, making you roll your eyes

“Yes?” You asked, licking the crumbs off your lips.

“You have a delivery here in the front.”

You rush to the lobby and pass other assistant supervisors into the waiting room. The delivery man is hidden behind the arrangement of your favorite flowers. You melted as you stepped forward, the floral scent drawing you in.

“Hi, those are for me.” You helped your hands out to the vase.

“Yes, they are!” The flowers lowered, and your grind blindfold creased as he stared down at you.

“Toru?!”

“Just had to remind you how perfect and loved you are!” he placed the flowers down before rubbing his arms around you. “I also want hollow purple the assholes who hurt you.”

“No, Toru, please don’t do that.”

While murder was out of the question, Satoru decided on a different approach to let your coworkers know how much you were loved. He wrapped his arms around you before dipping you in front of all of your shitty coworkers just before kissing you. He made such a scene making out with you and grabbing your ass that you were left a blushing mess. He finally managed to pull away; he flipped off the woman who had made such terrible comments to you.

“Hope this proves that I’m never going anywhere.” he slaps your ass again, drawing a squeak from you. “She’s mine forever and always, no matter what!”

Nanami Kento:

Ever since high school, you have had a food issue. When you were a child, your grandparents often commented about you cleaning off your plate or having seconds. They would frequently call you chubby or warn you that man would like a woman who finished her meals before him.

Because of their comments, you never ate as much as you would like. Purposely leave as much food on your plate as possible without starving yourself. While the habit was unhealthy, it pleased your grandparents to the point they finally got off your back about your plate and weight. After their deaths, the harmful habit caused by their poisonous words scarred you your whole life.

No matter how hungry you were, you never finished your plate. A handful of the entire plate was eaten at every meal you ate. If you were still hungry, water helped with the lingering traces of hunger. Because of your seemingly peckish behavior, you were called a bird throughout high school and even into adulthood. You didn’t see it in a bad way. You were eating the way you did, which never bothered you. You were happy and content with your choices until you started dating Nanami Kento.

When he first asked you out, you thought the good-looking man was pulling a joke on you. Much to your relief, he was serious. He wanted to take you out for dinner and drinks, which you excitedly agreed to. Nanami took you to the best restaurants in town, and it was. You moaned as you ate until you had to force yourself to stop, as you were dangerously getting close to finishing your plate for the first time in years.

Your grandparents' words haunted you as you reluctantly put your spoon down. That was the first time he picked up on your issue. The way you assured him that you were full when your eyes still lingered on your food or how you moaned when you took a bite of the sweet dessert, going in for another spoonful only to freeze and drop your spoon.

Something didn’t seem right, but Nanami wouldn’t pry on the first date. Perhaps you weren’t that hungry, or you were nervous around him. There was no point in bringing it up right now. He wasn’t even sure if he’d get a second date.

But he got that second date and the third, and soon, he became your loving, doting boyfriend

A boyfriend who noticed you not cleaning your plate off wasn’t just a one-time occurrence but a habit of yours. No matter the meal, breakfast, lunch, or dinner, you never finished your plate. Even when you complained about how starving you were, you never ate until you were full.

You never looked satisfied whenever you ate; one would even say that you looked disappointed whenever your plate was taken away at restaurants. Or when you close the lid on your unfinished bento box. You wanted to eat, but something was preventing you from pushing past the limit you made for yourself

Nanami didn’t want to pry or embarrass you by bringing it up, but he could no longer hold his tongue after the two of you had gone to dinner. You stopped eating, and while he finished his meal, you chugged down an entire glass of water. Clearly, you were still hungry but not wanting to eat.

He decided he needed to bring up the manner in the comfort of his home, away from watchful eyes. So Nanami invited you to his condo for a homemade dinner featuring your favorite meal.

It was so good. The flavors were perfect, mouthwatering, and nearly orgasmic. You moaned eagerly, shoving more food into your mouth, losing yourself in the delicious meal made by loving hands; Nanami watched you while sipping on his wine, watching you eat until you stopped eating like always. The disappointment was evident on your face as you reluctantly put your fork down.

Now was the time to act.

“Darling, is the food not to your liking?” A sense of dread burned in your stomach as you looked up from your half-full plate at your boyfriend

“No, it was good! I’ve never tasted something so tasty.”

Nanami placed his wine glass down, licking his bottom lip. “ Are you just not hungry?” You shook your head, cheeks burning. “Then why don’t you eat more Love? You clearly want to.”

“But I don’t wanna lose you—”

Not expecting that to be your answer, Kento pulled his chair to your side, sat down, and gently grabbed your hands. You flushed as he brought them towards his mouth, pressing gentle kisses against your knuckles. Your boyfriend looked so distraught over your answer as if it had wounded him to the soul.

“Why do you think that? Have I made you feel if you were to finish your food, that would result in me leaving you? If I made you feel that way, I’m sorry.”

“Ken, no, no, wait a second.” Your fingers squeezed around his hand. “You didn’t do anything remotely close to making me feel that way.”

“Then why do you think you’d lose me if you were to finish a meal in front of me?”

Swallowing at the lump of dread in your throat, you sighed. “Well, it’s something my grandparents always used to say.” You told him everything about their crude remarks and terrible advice. You also confessed that despite their passing, their words still haunted you, making it hard for you to finish meals.

“That has to be the most asinine bullshit I’ve ever heard.” Kento snapped, irritation carved into his features. “People are so cold and cruel. They don’t understand that words can impact a person for the entirety of their lives.”

“Kento—”

“I can assure you that I would rather you finish your plate than starve yourself. Food is one of the many joys in life that is better shared and company.” He closed the small distance between you. “If you finish your plate, I won’t be disgusted or turned off. I promise you it’s the opposite; seeing you happy and enjoying yourself makes me happy.”

“It does?”

“You always look so happy when you eat something you like.” Nanami picked up your fork and is holding it out for you. “So please don’t let the cruel words of terrible people dictate how you live your life. I won’t be leaving anytime soon, so please eat as much as you’d like.”

Hearing those words from him, the man who stole your heart, made your soul soar. Confirming that your grandparents were terrible people and that he wouldn’t leave you left you feeling overjoyed. Like you had been set free. It was like Kento had taken bolt cutters to the chains wrapped around you for years. That rush of relief had you eating more food off your plate with a happy hum.

You ate all the food off your plate for the first time in years. Nanami grinned as he gently stroked your head, elated to you, so happy and satisfied. Seeing you in such a euphoric state delighted him; words could not describe it. Nanami Kento was falling hard for you, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future holds for you both.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU):

“Big bro!” Sukuna Thomas is a slice of toast on Yuuji’s plate. “Bro!” The smaller boy pouts at his brother, who ultimately ignores him, tossing a butter knife into the sink. “Brother!”

“What?!” Sukuna snaps, running a hand down. His little brother is unfazed by his tone, happily munching away on the toast he had prepared for him.

“Big sis forgot her lunch again!” Yuuji always referred to you as his big sister, even though you were dating his older brother. Sukuna made a mental note to discuss calling you by either your last name or first name, whatever you preferred, when you got home from work.

“No, I handed it to her,” Sukuna is about to call Yuuji a brat for lying when he spots your Bento box wrapped in a cherry blossom cloth on the entrance table by the front door. He swears you’d lose your head if it weren't attached to your body. This was the third time you had forgotten your lunch this week. “Dumb little brat.” he snatches it off the entrance table to put it back in the fridge for you. “She’d if it wasn’t for delivery services and convenience stores. Always forgetting her shit.”

“She didn’t forget it.” Yuuji’s addition has his brother shutting the door to the fridge to box still in hand.

“The hell you mean she didn’t forget it?”

The smell of sterilized wipes makes your empty stomach twist. Maybe the fasting and the protein shake in the morning weren't cutting it anymore. This meant you would have to eat a bit more, which was something you didn’t want to do. Not when your beach trip with Sukuna and the boys was around the corner.

“Hey.” One of your coworkers tapped her knuckles on the door of the exam room you were cleaning. “Once you’re done here, you can take your lunch if you want.”

“Lunch?” You laugh, pulling your gloves off and tossing them in the trashcan. “If you count a protein shake as lunch, I’ll take it.”

“Oh,” your coworker covered her mouth, “ I think I just ruined the surprise.” Surprise? What the hell was she talking about? “Your boyfriend is in the lobby with your lunch.”

Oh fuck.

Without another word, you rushed through the office, heading to the lobby. Sukuna stood by the front desk with a scowl over his tattooed face. He was pissed, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to face him, but the plot to hide vanished the second his crimson eyes shot in your direction.

A chill ran down your spine as the sheer coldness in his gaze had you frozen in your spot until he motioned for you to come over with his index and middle finger. You approached him, smoothing out your scrubs, avoiding eye contact at all costs, which lasted for a second before Sukuna could use his fingers to lift your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Let’s take a walk.” The sharpness of his tone left no room for discussion

“Okay.”

He at least waited until he was outside to turn and glare down at you. You would have to thank him for that. “Care to explain how you forgot your lunch?” His jaw is clenched, and the veins are popping out of his neck as he attempts to hold back his anger.

“I uh—”

“And before you even think about telling me ‘you forgot’ for the third time this week, long and hard about how you wanna answer my question.”

“I left it behind.”

Sukuna nodded with a scoff. “So does this mean you haven’t forgotten your lunch all week, or have you purposely left it behind?” You give him a guilt-ridden nod. “Why?” His being short and questioning your motives was exactly how you imagined his reaction if he found out what you were doing.

“Because of my diet.”

“Diet, the fuck you mean your diet?”

Your cheeks burn as he repeats the word diet ten more times as if repeating it will help him understand your reasoning. Sukuna listens to you sigh in defeat before sitting on the fountain's edge in front of the medical complex where you work. His frustration blinded him so much that he didn’t notice how you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth or how your leg bounced anxiously.

He sat down, putting your bento box off to the side. “Why are you skipping meals on this ‘diet’?” The bastard was using air quotes now.

“My coworker showed it to me. Two meals with protein shakes and eat only one big meal or day I could tone up.”

“So you’re basically ‘starving’ yourself to tone up?”

“Can you stop using air quotes?”

“I will once you tell me why you’re skipping meals for the shitty diet you don’t even need to be on. If you want to focus on your health and getting toned up, do it. I’ll go to the gym and show you how to use the machines. I’ll even spot you. But so that you know, I think you’re perfect the way you are.”

“You’re obligated to say that because you’re my boyfriend.” Your attitude in your tone has said boyfriend glaring daggers. “You’re muscular and buff, and I’m—“ you pout, “ I’m just me.”

“Yeah, and I want you, all of you.” He’s getting fed up with the piss-poor attitude you have going on. “What’s with the self-hate.”

Sukuna was expecting more attitude or possibly the silent treatment, but you didn’t; instead, it was quiet as your delicate fingers rubbed against your pants. “I-I bought a new swimsuit for the trip to the beach and—” your boyfriend perked up, interest peaked. “And it’s a little snug in some places.”

“Snug?”

“Yeah.” When you first got the swimsuit, you saw nothing wrong with it, but a friend of yours pointed out that your bottoms were a bit snug in the ass region—seeing that your beach trip was two weeks away, your coworker recommended the not-so-awesome diet you were on since you wanted to tone up; because if your friend thought it was snug. You could only imagine what your boyfriend would think. “I just wanna look good for you.”

“Oi.”

“Ye-mph!” Just as you turned to look at him, he shoved the tip of a rice ball into your mouth.

“I need to see you in those bottoms.” There was a certain cuteness with how he puffed his cheeks out as you eagerly chewed on the rice ball. Once you finish swallowing, you grab it by the end and pull it out, holding the remainder of it in your hand

“You want to see?”

“Of course, why the fuck would you listen to some nobody? Let me see them, and I’ll tell you what I think.”

That was the last thing you wanted, but you knew he wouldn’t let this go until you did. Taking another bite of the delicious rice ball, you sighed in defeat. “I’ll show you, Sukuna,” He flicked his finger against your forehead. “What was that for?!” He shoved the second rice ball into your mouth, silencing you.

“For being a dumbass, eat your lunch and bring those bottoms back to my apartment.” He pressed a kiss against your cheek. “I gotta get back to work, but don’t forget I love you the way you are. Please don’t starve yourself because you assume I wouldn’t like something on you.”

You ate all your lunch while dreading the mere thought of him seeing you in the bottoms, which your friend had deemed too tight. The anxiety of what was to come had your day flying by, and before you knew it, you were peeking your head out of the bathroom of Sukuna’s apartment. Your boyfriend sat on the edge of the bed, watching you closely.

“Promise you’ll be honest. I’m dead serious, Kuna.”

“Promise.” When you stepped out of the bathroom, Sukuna’s eyes widened at the sight of the tight red bottoms you wore. They were snug and all the right ways. They were hugging your hips and the curve of your ass perfectly. The color complimented your skin tone. You were so fucking perfect. Your friend must have told you that your bottoms look too snug because they were jealous of you.

Sukuna stood up, crowding you against the wall, inhaling sharply as you hit the cool wall. Your tattooed boyfriend sunk to his knees, his lips and teeth nipping at your thighs up to the curve of your hips. The warmth of his mouth, how you gasped, your hands gripping the pink tufts of hair.

“Kuna.”

“Throw those fucking shakes away, babe. These are perfect.” His voice was muffled as he nipped harder at your skin.

“You don’t think they’re too snug?”

“No, they're perfect.” He whispered, drawing closer and closer to your core. “Now, let's have our own little experiment. I wanna see how well they do—” crimson eyes meet your panting flushed face, “when they’re wet.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

468 notes · View notes

wosoluver · 8 hours

Text

La nueva g headcannons

Patri Guijarro x young physio!reader

-> what would it be like for a young physio to join Barça's nueva generación?

Meeting eachother

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Being the new girl had always been your worse nightmare, being the new girl at your new internship, in a country you had moved into recently, sounded like hell.

Yes speaking the language made it easier, kinda, since everyone actually opted for talking in Català, much to your dismay.

Even in school most of your classes followed the same principle.

But you knew that wasn't the biggest issue. You were never good at initial introductions, despite the language.

So here you were, walking into the Barcelona Femeni's training grounds for your first day.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Soon training was over, the room was filled by a few players.

"Don't worry, they aren't all in recovery. Mapi is the only one who really is.

Pina is here for a look at a mild pull on her right hamstring, nothing to worry too much about. We are just keeping a close eye on it.

Vicky and Salma will head to cryotherapy, after a massage, for muscle relaxation." you took some notes as she spoke. "I'm focusing on Mapi, the second physio will be here in a little bit, to take care of Paralluelo. Can you check on Pina? You just need you to check her leg and write down how she feels, and pain levels, that should probably be low."

"Yes, of course."

You said, walking towards where the woman was laying.

"Hey, I'm Y/N the new intern. Since we have a couple players in today, I'm doing your check up." looking up from your notes to her. She had a stunned look on her face.

"Hi hm- I'm Pina, Claudia Pina." she said giving you a big smile. But you couldn't help but keep your eyes on the paperwork.

"Excuse me." you said moving to examine her thigh. "Tell me if it hurts too much."

"Okay." and you proceeded.

"Can you tell me how it hurt on a scale from one to ten?"

"Two."

"Did you feel it during training?"

"Just a bit. Do you think you could do some taping, just for caution?"

"Yeah, let me go get the kit."

you got up and came back quickly. You did your best and soon you were done.

"Thanks! Nice to meet you Y/N."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Patri you're not going to believe! There's a new intern, she has the prettiest eyes and an accent, I don't know where from but, she's latina for sure." said the forward coming into the room where some of the teammates were in a ice bath.

"Did talk to her?"

"Not much. Just the check up. But she's your type."

"How so?"

"I don't know how to explain it. You have to see her." she said grinning widely at the thought of playing cupid.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

But you two didn't have the chance to meet, until the next game.

Patri had fell to the ground harshly, and didn't get up, after getting hit from behind from the other team's player.

You and the other medic ran straight in. You weren't even supposed to be on field duty but the head physio didn't show up in time, so you had to improvise.

"Hey tell me where it hurts." you whispered in her ear so she could hear you.

"My right leg, I'm not sure what happened but everything hurts!"

"Can you keep going or is it bad?"

"It's bad."

"Vale, we're doing a change." the head doctor signed for you to head to the locker room to evaluate her, while he stayed there at the pitch.

you only nodded and helped Patri.

"Lay here so I can take a look, please." you started to examine her thigh and knee, moving down to check her ankle.

"It doesn't seem anything too extreme, but we are definitely going to run some screening."

"I'll be fine for next game, right?"

"Not quite sure. Sorry."

"You're Y/N?"

"Yes."

"It's just, my best friend had told me about you."

"Pina?" you said sitting on the chair next to her.

"Yeah." she said thinking what to say next. "You usually aren't here for the game right?"

"Yes, but they had an emergency so I had to step up. But don't worry I'm on my last year, that means I can take care of you."

"I didn't mean it like that, you look very qualified an- I-"

"It's okay." you let out a soft laugh. "You would think for a physio team of a big club, they would be more prepared for this situations."

"Wait, what happened?"

"Head physio is running late, the secondary is supposed to be off today. So just me."

"You are quite young, for a doctor."

"I'm twenty five, getting my masters degree. And you are quite young to be a football star." you said preparing some ice to press onto her leg that was already starting to bruise.

"Touché. Ouch." she said through her teeth.

"Now we wait."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Yeah so, good news and bad news." said the doctor. "It's a moderate strain. There's no tear though. You're out for the next few days and then rehabilitation."

"Goddammit!" she said throwing the water bottle she had across the room, missing you by a couple of centimeters.

"Ay chica!"

"Sorry, I forgot you were there." she said looking up, where you were standing on the other side of the room.

"Didn't you hear? You're on physio sessions, you need me alive!" you said tying to cheer her up, seeing how tense she was from the situation.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Monday morning getting to the training grounds, you saw Patri getting out of the car, Claudia was the one driving.

"Oye Y/N!" said Pina getting your attention. "Can you help Patri get to the recovery facility? Here's her stuff." she finished putting two bags in your arms.

In truth her friend didn't need that much help. She could walk on her own and Clau could have carried it there. But what would be better than this for her to get you two together?

Patri had her mouth agape. Sometimes she could not believe the way her best friend would act.

Good thing you let out a small laugh, indicating you were okay with it. But before you could even say anything she was gone into training.

"Bon dia."

"Bon dia, sorry about her. You can give them to me."

"Of course not! She's right." you fixed the bags in your arms, so you could keep a free hand, to help her out. "Let's get you there. How was the weekend? Did you rest like you were supposed to?"

"I tried not to, but they stopped me. Overall, it didn't hurt that much."

"Are you saying that so I'll put in a word that you're doing better?"

"It hurt like hell. But I swear it already feels somewhat better." she confessed.

"That's what I thought."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Thanks to everyone for the ideas and special thanks to @itzzzitzelll and @s0ciety-cxv for basically co writing the plot and everything! 🩷

There will be more parts kind of like 'healers got to date protectors'! So send your requests in!

#woso x reader #patri guijarro x reader #patri guijarro

83 notes · View notes

sigmasemen · 2 days

Text

“NOT LIKE THAT.”

sae itoshi x reader

— tags: NSFW, slowburn smut, very short one shot, grinding, first time, established relationship, gender neutral!reader, sub!reader, dom!sae.

— taglist: n/a currently.

— characters: sae itoshi, reader.

— word count: 909.

— extra notes: this is a repost from my thread from here, but i still haven’t written a part two. definitely not as fancy since it was originally a twitter thread.

sae never considered himself a sexual person. of course, he had urges like any other person would. that was human. but anytime a person on his team would loudly talk about how they had a fling for the night, sae would tighten his expression before looking away.

so having a partner wasn’t much different at first. romantically and schedule wise, yes. but they hadn’t gone any farther than a few longer kisses on the couch by the 3 month mark.

if you cut open sae’s skull and checked into his mind to see the reason, you would find the fleshy mush of his brain. romantically though, you would see an almost awkward romantic feeling. not feeling like you’re good at anything (beyond soccer) included sex.

so… could he pleasure someone else?

that thought was small. he wasn’t thinking about it every waking second. not knowingly at least. so when he was resting on the couch after a long day of practice, being hit with the noise of water hitting the floor didn’t trigger that.

the only physical response he had to that was shifting.

the only verbal response he had to that was a hum.

the only mental response he had to that was a clear image of his partner’s body. and with a delayed response, his body shot up and his hands gripped the couch.

sae crossed his legs (for undisclosed reasons) and tapped his arm rapidly. fuck him and fuck everything.

was he supposed to sit and deal with it? handle it on his own? ask them about it?

all were way too embarrassing. it almost felt like it would be better to crumble on the couch and ignore it.

still, the image persisted. it grew more clear and even turned into a scene. sae couldn’t sit here and wait. he forced himself up and into the bathroom, opening the door slowly and closing his eyes as he walked in.

“can i come in?”

“…you’re already in?” a soft laugh from his partner. it was making that image beckon him. “did you need something?”

should he try to fire off an excuse? “can i join you?” he might as well do what came naturally to him, plainness.

“oh.” there was a bit of stuttering that came out, then a nervous laugh, “yeah! uh, come right ahead.”

sae pried his eyes open at that. the fog on the glass made it impossible to make out anything beyond a silhouette of them. it only urge him to strip himself at a quickened pace. a pace that got him in the shower within a minute.

it was worth it to force himself up because he couldn’t stop staring. not just at their chest or ass, everywhere. he wished in that moment to have photographic memory. he’d just have to settle for memorizing their body with his hands.

a hand reached out to their hips, dragging them closer. his chest pressed against their back and his eyes stuck to their neck. it was impossible to look at them directly.

“sae..?”

“you look nice.”

“just nice?”

“i—” he let out something that was a mix of a weak laugh and a shaky sigh. “stunning. beautiful. i like seeing you like this.”

“i could say the same. i haven’t… we haven’t seen each other like this. i know we’ve seen each other topless but…”

“this is more intimate.”

another moment of quiet. sae didn’t know how to continue with them. he had to try at least. push out that worry of not being able to satisfy.

his hand grasped their hip, then slowly moved up towards their chest. with no clue what to do, he squeezed. a gentle one, only enough to elicit a yelp. his eyes stuck on their expression. he didn’t even notice himself move closer when he squeezed again.

“trace your finger sae, please.”

sae didn’t need to be told twice. his finger delicately traced around their nipple. the pants only grew louder. they bent forward to hold themself up against the wall. sae couldn’t help but kiss the liquid draining down their back. he also couldn’t help his finger inching closer to rub their nipples in circular motions.

“more, more…” the motions grew faster. their noises only became more clear. weaker. he couldn’t stop himself. sae moved his spare arm around them. his dick pressed right against their back.

“i love your body,” it was stated as a fact, “i wish i could say it more. i think you deserve more than just a few kisses.”

“then give me more.”

“…maybe when we’re out of the shower.”

“you’re gonna get me to come from only stimulation on my chest?” they laughed, “i need you sae. i need—”

sae pulled them into a kiss. not a particularly good one, but the desperation of how firm he was pressing was enough to make up for that. the weak noises from both sides was enough to drive them both crazy. he needed them in every way, they needed him in every way.

they were the first to pull away. breathless with sore lips. “i want more. i need more.”

“can we move this to the bedroom instead?”

“we’d have to dry off after this.”

“i can change the sheets after. can you let me enjoy more of you?”

“as long as you let me enjoy more of you.”

and for the first time in a long time, sae said the word, “please.”

#bllk smut #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk sae #sae itoshi x reader #bllk #cupid’s weird flicks #gender neutral reader #blue lock #x reader

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carpe-dulcis-solis · 11 months

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the whole 'moonlight' speech that lister gave to rimmer in TPL had me fucking FLOORED

#i wasnt expecting it to be so honest and raw??#i genuinely felt feelings at that speech holy shit #i just had to sit there stunned for a second #this was compounded when rimmer was like #'there's a moon here listy that wouldn't mind some sunlight'#i am feeling so normal about these two right now :)#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #arnold j rimmer #dave lister #david lister

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peterpandiedtoday · 2 years

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yoo haven’t said gxd is real in a whole while but wowie i really didn’t think i’d get to see vienna cass as bomba, sth i’ve wanted since i learned she was a bomba cover. somehow managed to catch her deme three times but never bomba and thought oh well, maybe it’s not meant to be. but no. it was. and it was good. she was suuch a good bomba, so cute but also so very sexy. and tinyy. aah. and i did think her voice would be a good fit for bomba and it was!! aaah. so good so good so good

#personal Davy #she also had a thing going with skimble in the beginning where at first he nuzzled her during the pyramid part and then at the beginning of #naming they were holding each other's hands and when they got into the naming.. crowd position she reached back to him with both hands #was v cute but then i uh may have forgotten skimble existed... until his song #she was also sosososososoooo cute with alonzo. who was making biscuits for half a second on cori's butt and then crawled over to her #during gus and put his head in her lap nd stretched out and she just. softly stroked his neck and back until they had to leave bc growltiger #carbucketty randomly slow scratched bill bailey's chest who was so stunned all he could do when he regained composure was bat at #his ear and quickly scurry off #and during mac scare 1 aka mungorumpel bill bailey pressed against munk's leg who then put his arm around him real tight #oooh and bomba didn't let tugger f her during the ball. got lifted put down and Ran. which.. tugger was hxrny today.. tried it with everyone #and immediately went to lift deme off the tube and get it on with her buttt she ran off to join the ball a second later too #and during the mating dance part he.. uhm. when they lay down. he loudly slapped cori's butt? and i was like haha sure do what you must #but then he proceeded to very intensely.. massage? the butt? like.. Very intensely. very.. covering all bits of a cheek.. and .. crack..#he also Had to press his leg between munk's in the oven which wasn't helped by munk guiding him forward by his hips earlier #he also did the romantic line with misto holding him tight and getting their faces together. and did a suggestive mouth thing with cass tail #then again when munk was trying to help him sit back up he just kept lying there while munk confusedly poked at his thigh #rumpel and mungo were very v v cute during gus too with mungo lying in rumpel's lap back to chest and rumpel had her arms around him #which doesn't sound special in writing but it looked soo sweet and comfortable and familiar just ugh i love #oh yea munk tripped over the lamp when he ran to the old deut decoy and got distracted for a while. old deut's back? nah i f ing tripped #who cares about the imposter. jelly had to come and fix it and put the mean little lamp in its place

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thebitchbehindtheslaughter · 10 months

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GUYS I JUST SAW A SHOOTING STAR IN MY OWN BACKYARD

#stars #astronomy #space #no but SERIOUSLY!#I was just sitting there #watching the sky #(��cuz we haven’t had clear starry nights around here for a hot second)#and THEN THERE IT WAS!#IT JUST ZOOMED ACROSS THE SKY!#I WAS STUNNED FOR A SECOND ‘CUZ I’VE NEVER SEEN ONE IN PERSON #BUT THERE IT WENT!#SMFLLD #A #DWLLELWLD #Y’KNOW?#thanks for reading all these tags btw

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sttoru · 3 months

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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. staying at your boyfriend’s house for the first time is nerve wracking. though luckily satoru understands your situation all too well.

wc. around 870

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive implications. reader is implied to be a virgin + has no experience dating. satoru being a gentleman hehe. nicknames used ‘sugar, sweetheart’. not beta read.

“are you sure?” you ask your lover who’s making himself comfortable on the couch. satoru sits down and gives you a reassuring smile. he adjusts the blue blanket he’s covering himself with before responding.

“mhm. a hundred percent,” he nods and reaches for your hand. his thumb brushes over your knuckles in a soothing manner. his blue eyes glow with the purest form of love—pure unadulterated love for you.

it’s your first time staying over at your boyfriend’s. it’s nerve wracking for some reason. maybe because you have all kinds of ideas running through your head about how your night could possibly go.

the thought about possible intimacy is scary, because you’re not sure if you’re actually prepared. you had set your mind to it on your way to his house; you will be ready if satoru asks to take things further. for his sake. .

but, when the time had come, nothing happened. you expected at least something to happen. he’s kissed you as per usual, however more than that has not occurred. perhaps it’s your own fault for trying to predict what will happen.

though how can you not? you assumed that if a boyfriend and girlfriend spend the night together, they’ll surely do something more. at least you think that’s what happens most of the time. with other couples that is.

you should’ve known by now that satoru doesn’t compare to other men. especially not to the college boys your age—who only want to hit and move on. satoru is serious about your relationship. committed.

“what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, sugar?” satoru’s smooth voice interrupts your thoughts. you clear your throat and shake your head, dismissing your own tendencies to overthink every little thing.

his big hands cover both of yours completely. they’re warm. nice to hold. the older man lifts your hands up to his lips and kisses your palms. you sigh and finally relax after what feels like hours, “nothing, ‘toru.”

nothing, you say. little did you know that satoru has long noticed what’s wrong. you’re easy to read—your body language reveals every little thing you’re feeling.

you subconsciously had your fists clenched at your sides the second you stepped into his apartment. you’ve been avoiding eye contact more than usual and you keep nibbling on your bottom lip. those were all the signs he needed.

satoru knows you well enough to realise that you’re overly nervous. he understands why. it’s your first time staying overnight at a man’s house—your boyfriend’s house.

satoru’s sure you’re thinking that he’ll ask you to sleep with him. it’s obvious. each time he kisses you, you tense up. you normally get flustered, though today you’re more than just nervous.

he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable. he doesn’t want you to think that he’ll do anything you’re not ready for. the last thing satoru would do is take advantage of this precious moment. of his precious girl.

it’s also why he suggested to sleep on the couch. he figured that you’ll be less nervous if you have the bed to yourself. all he wants is for you to relax around him.

“may i?” satoru whispers. his warm breath caresses your hands and you instantly give your consent to whatever he wishes to do. the older man thanks you quietly before putting his forehead against yours.

you look into each other’s eyes and you’re once again stunned by the beauty of his blue orbs. satoru brushes his knuckles over your cheek, adoring just how adorable you look from up close, “it’s okay, yeah? i won’t ask you to do anything. i promise.”

you blink. it’s only then that the realisation dawns upon you. no wonder satoru has immediately noticed your nervous demeanour. he’s always so perceptive of how you feel. it’s quite heartwarming.

those comforting words are all you need. you smile brightly and hug satoru out of reflex. you hear a giggle escape his lips before he returns the gesture. his strong arms wrap around your form and he squeezes you to his chest.

“aww, there’s my baby,” satoru coos. he’s happy that he’s finally succeeded at calming you down. he’s also happy that he got your usual self back. he tenderly kisses the top of your head.

you lift your head up to get some air. satoru’s tight embrace and familiar scent nearly suffocated you—not that you would mind going out like that. you kiss his cheek, “thank you for being so. . err, patient and understanding.”

your boyfriend shakes his head with a soft smile playing across his lips. satoru leaves a trail of ticklish pecks down your face until he reaches your lips. after waiting for your usual sign - a faint nod - he captures them in a gentle kiss.

he pulls away after a few seconds, though stays close to your face. you’re filled with an incredible feeling of warmth because of satoru’s obvious adoration for you. pure content.

he lets out a breathy laugh at your cute, flustered expression. he pulls you in for a hug again and presses your head against his chest, “heh, no, i should thank you for trusting me. i love you s’much.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #divider by @/cafekitsune

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augustinewrites · 5 months

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satoru bday fic! cw: suggestive

gojo thinks he should be nominated for boyfriend of the year.

not only had he managed to get the kids to school on time, pick up the groceries, get all his reports in to principal yaga, and clean the kitchen, but he’d managed to do it all while extremely hungover on his birthday.

he’d even managed to do it all before you’d even gotten out of bed.

he doesn’t blame you for sleeping in. the impromptu birthday party he’d thrown had left you all in quite the state by the early hours of morning. you need the re—

“satoru! could you come in here for a second?”

“coming!” he calls back, shoving the coupon that’d fallen from shoko’s birthday card into his wallet before making his way to the bedroom. “hey, let’s get some frozen yogurt when the kids get ho— holy shit.”

your face breaks out into a grin of triumph at his sudden silence. gojo’s rightfully stunned, carefully studying each bit of revealing lace and the way it sits against your body before committing it to memory.

“is that…”

“the set you had commissioned in paris,” you hum, nonchalant as you drag your fingertips up your hip. “that’s the one.”

he takes a few slow steps toward where you are and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, arousal warming his whole body. “but you said you’d never wear it because—”

“because i was saving it for something special,” you finish, leaning up and shifting towards him. “like your birthday.”

“well,” he sighs as you close the distance between you. “i should unwrap my gift then.”

“please try not to tear it,” you murmur as his lips brush over your pulse. “i’d very much like to wear it again, and i, oh, i saw the charge on the credit card…”

his reply is no more than a distracted hum as you shift onto his lap, allowing curious hands to explore your body and hungry lips to move against yours.

the lace is soft on your skin, his hands eagerly working to undo the ties holding up delicate florals and sheer material.

“satoru, i need you.” your breath is warm against his skin, exciting him more as he goes to pull off garter belt.

“uh, babe?”

“hm?”

“how do you take this off?”

_____

“well, i connected it to this piece—”

“but we can’t take this piece off unless we take this one off too. that doesn’t make any sense.”

“i’m telling you, that’s how i put it on.”

“then why won’t it come off?”

it’s then that gojo decides custom lingerie should come with instructions. when he’d designed it, he hadn’t actually considered the logistics of this operation.

“okay,” you huff, turning around and placing your hands on his shoulders. “you’re just going to have to tear it.”

“fine by me,” he grins, slightly smug as he curls his fingers around the expensive material and tears—

the two of you scramble up when the front door slams open. it’s in that moment you realize that satoru hadn’t closed the bedroom door.

“mom!” you hear megumi shout, his stomps echoing through the apartment. “tsumiki ate one of my snacks!”

“shit, fuck.” cursing, you grab his discarded t-shirt and slip it on before jumping into bed. satoru slips in next to you, pulling the duvet up to your chins and pressing against you from behind.

“satoru!” you hiss when you feel something poke the back of your thigh.

“we just made out for like ten minutes,” he whispers back, only pulling you closer. “you didn’t think i’d get one?”

“put it away!”

“i could, but—”

you manage to summon one of your divine dogs in time for it push the bedroom door closed, breathing a sigh of relief when the kid’s footsteps come to a halt.

“we’ll be out in a second!” you call, hearing their hushed argument as they trudge back to the kitchen.

“i might need more than a second…”

you hit satoru in the face with a pillow. “you’ll get the rest of your birthday gift tonight, after you drop the kids off at nanami’s.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

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miley1442111 · 1 month

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fix it-a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

please don't read if you have emetophobia!!!!

summary: aaron says some horrible things, can he fix it?

pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: mad angst, aaron is so mean, reader believes she is a bad mother, heartbreak, feelings of disappointment, jack is so sweet, reader is pregnant, talks of pregnancy, talks of vomiting and morning sickness, no happy ending :(

part 2- fix it together

It was all coming down to this. It was Jack’s birthday and as his step-mom, you had been party planning all week. He was having a dinosaur themed birthday with a bounce house and watching a movie in the backyard, like a little drive in movie. You were excited for him. Aaron hadn’t really been around much that week, he was busy dealing with some legal battle the FBI was up against, meaning the rest of the team, including yourself, had the week off. It was Friday night, Jack’s actual birthday and he was asleep in bed as you waited for Aaron to get home. You were reading a book Spencer had recommended you as you nursed a cup of tea, getting sleepier by the second.

The front door opened and there Aaron stood, briefcase in hand, handsome as ever. You smiled and got up from your spot on the couch, ready to greet him. He smiled softly as you hugged him, running a hand through his hair. “How did it go?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.

“Oh it was fine, nothing too jarring. How was the week?” He asked, walking further into the house.

“Fine. Nothing to report. Jack’s asleep but-”

“Did you do something for his birthday?” He asked, cutting you off.

“Yeah, of course. I picked him up from school early and we went for lunch and to a film. He really enjoyed himself,” you smiled and he sighed. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, fine,” Passive aggressive. Aaron was being passive aggressive.

“Aaron,” You said, worry coating your words. “Is everything ok?”

“Yes! Everything is just fine,” He sighed again, sitting on the couch. “Just one thing though- you didn’t think to offer him to see his mom?” He asked, malice behind every word. The accusation cut you deeply. Of course you’d asked, but he’d said no. He said ‘I don’t want to go without dad’ because of course he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to go to his moms grave without his dad, and not on his birthday either. You stood there, stunned at his words. He continued. “Y’know, you promised me this wouldn’t be an issue, so tell me now, is this an issue Y/N? I need to know because we can still get an annulment.”

You gasped at his words. “Aaron stop-”

“No, you stop. You are not his mother. She is. She still is, even if she’s gone. You’ll never be his mother. You’re doing a good job of parenting but nothing compares to Haley. Thank god you’re not his actual mother.”

That was venomous. He was going straight for every insecurity you had around your relationship with Jack and throwing it in your face. He was hurting you.

The silence was heavy. Aaron finally looked at your face and saw the disgust written all over it. The worst part was the fact that he knew it wasn't disgust at his actions, it was disgust directed at yourself and your parenting. You loved and adored Jack, he knew that. He knew, though he’d never admit it, that Jack liked you more than him, or maybe it was just his insecurity speaking, he wasn’t sure. He knew you gave everything of yourself to the both of them. And he knew he’d just done irreversible damage.

“I offered,” you muttered, your eyes trained on the floor as you wrapped your arms around your chest, pleading with yourself to not cry. You felt silly, standing there, in his hoodie, his home, and seeing his child as your own. “He said he wanted to wait for you. I said we’d go on Sunday.”

Aaron’s stomach dropped at the tone of your voice and the words being spoken. He was making you cry. He was hurting you. And all you’d ever been to him was perfectly kind. You’d always been so supportive, so loving, and so caring. As he came in he saw a love note on the fridge, he’d seen one of his favourite chocolate bars on the counter with a note beside it, a little wrapped gift beside it too. There were multiple reminders on the fridge for yourself, ones telling you to pick up things for the party, pick up Jack’s big birthday gift (a new bike), and call Jessica. You cared so much about the both of them, and he’d just said some of the worst things he could’ve, just because he was stressed.

Imagine how stressed you were, planning an entire party on your own while simultaneously working through hours and hours of paperwork (courtesy of your job, you were still working from home even if you weren't technically working), and parenting all week, all alone.

“There’s dinner in the fridge, I-I’m going to go to bed,” you mumbled, walking about and leaving him alone with his thoughts. He heard your footsteps retract, walking up the stairs and in the opposite direction of your shared bedroom. Shit. You were sleeping in the guest room.

He got up, irritation and shame barely allowing him to get to the kitchen to eat the meal you’d made him. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he have just listened to you?

He sat alone eating, his eyes drifting to the gift on the counter the entire time. I don’t deserve it. He thought, but caved once he finished his food and cleaned up. He pulled the small bow off and unwrapped the colourful paper to reveal a positive pregnancy test. His heart broke again. Inside beside it was a note, in your beautiful handwriting.

To my dearest Aaron,

I wanted to tell you the second I found out but I also didn’t want you to come home too early when you were still needed in Washington. We’re pregnant! I’m so excited and nervous and happy and scared all at the same time. I didn’t want to upstage Jack’s birthday but I obviously needed to tell you :)

I love you so much and I can’t wait for this next chapter! No more guest bedroom I guess :)

P.s I’m almost sure Jack knows, I’ve been having horrible morning sickness :( but at least this fulfils his christmas wish last year, remember ?

Anyways, I love you so much and I’m so excited.

Your love, Y/N

Xxxx

He felt sick to his stomach. You were pregnant. He’d just been evilly cruel to you and you were pregnant. He’d said some of the most vile things on planet earth to you, he essentially called you a bad mother. And you were pregnant. He hadn’t even realised he was crying until he saw the splotches on the paper, ruining one of the cute doodles you’d done. He immediately put it down, not wanting to damage it further.

He took a deep breath, then went into his study and allowed himself to cry. He’d been mean. He’d hurt you in the one way he promised he wouldn’t, all because he was overwhelmed. All because he was stressed.

“Dad?” He heard Jack’s voice and straightened. He wiped his face. “Why are you upset?” Jack walked into his office, pyjamas and a teddy in hand.

“I did something mean to mom,” he admitted. “And I hurt her by accident,” he wasn’t sure if it was by accident. He was sure some deep part of him just wanted to self-sabotage himself. “And I feel bad about it.”

“It’ll be ok. Mom’s been sick this week, maybe you have the same tummy ache and it’s making you mad?” He suggested and Aaron let out a pathetic chuckle.

“Maybe bud, maybe,” he agreed. “How about we get you back to bed, huh?”

“Can I say goodnight to mom again?” He asked and Aaron’s heart broke again. He lifted him up and nodded, walking them down the hall. “You go into her and I’ll get your bed ready, yeah?”

“OK dad!” Jack exclaimed as he was let down to the ground, and went running off to your shared bedroom. Aaron shook his head.

“She’s in the other bedroom,” he pushed down another wave of tears at Jack’s confused face.

“Why?” He asked, confused.

“I was really mean,” Aaron sniffled. “Say goodnight from me too?”

“Ok dad,” Jack said, walking into the guest room.

Aaron heard your voice, wishing Jack good dreams. You’d been crying.

He was the worst person in the world.

Jack came into his bedroom a few minutes later. “Mom’s still sick, she said goodnight and to tell you that she loves you.”

Aaron almost started crying again. You were so caring. You always put him above yourself. “Thanks buddy.”

Aaron tucked him in and closed his door over, wishing him a good night. The tears came shortly after. He tried to sleep in your shared bed, but it wasn’t right. You weren’t there.

Sleep evaded him that night.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, the morning sickness hit you like a truck. You had your head in the toilet for an hour, at least. You didn’t come out of the guest room until about 9am. You could hear the usual sounds of Jack and Aaron playing outside, probably soccer. You walked downstairs and got yourself a glass of water, the only thing you could actually stomach at the minute. You looked out the window that led to your garden and smiled when you saw your boys playing, then the nagging voice that you thought you’d gotten rid of all but screamed in your ear You’re such a terrible parent. Aaron’s just been trying to conserve your feelings this entire time. Jack probably hates you. You shouldn’t be having another child.

You looked away. Focus on the party. You told yourself. Get through today.

You had a long list of things that needed doing before the party at 3. You had to pick up balloons, pick up the cake, pick up Jessica and her kids, pick up Sean from the airport (as a surprise for Aaron and Jack), and set everything up. You left a small note on the table explaining where you were, and left. You ran all your errands, leaving picking up Jessica, the kids, and Sean till last. When you walked back in, the house was set up and Jack was immediately excitedly by Jessica, his cousins, and Sean which gave you a moment to slip away from Aaron.

Soon enough, the party started and you were bombarded with around forty children and a party to have. You felt Aaron's eyes on you constantly, checking in on you or just watching you. Once the outdoor film started, Penelope, Emily, Jj, and Spencer came over to ask what was wrong with you and Aaron, saying it was strange to not see you all over each other. You told them about the fight (not the pregnancy) and they were shocked at his behaviour. How could he be so mean? How could he treat you like that?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron had been trying to talk to you for hours. Whenever he tried, a kid or one of the team would stop him with a dumb question, or needing help. You had Emily, Penelope, Jj, and Spencer crowding you the entire night, sending him the dirtiest of looks. That’s how he ended up at the end of the garden with David and Derek, who were both giving him a lecture about how what he’d done was wrong.

“You can't say anyone is a bad parent!” Derek stressed. “That’s a very clear no-go!”

“I’m aware,” Aaron said, his lips tight in a frown. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Then why aren’t you apologising?!” Derek exclaimed, loud enough that a few kids turned around to shush him.

“Because,” Aaron sighed. “Those four haven’t left her side in hours.”

As the movie came to a close and the children left, you were left with just the team and family.

You all sat down to dinner, chinese takeout- Jack’s favourite. There was laughter and true joy, especially at David’s insistence that he could make the meal much better than Jack's favourite take-out, considering he was a ‘chef’.

You all sat down to watch Jack open his gifts, individually thanking each person who gave him something. He was especially taken by the gift Spencer got him, a book on dinosaurs, and he adored the bike. You’d gotten one that you'd made look similar to Sean’s motorbike, Jack was always obsessed with Sean's motorbike. You’d even drawn on specific details that made it even more unique. Everyone eventually trailed out and it was just you, Jack, Sean, and Aaron. Jack asked Sean to read his bedtime story. That meant you and Aaron were left to clean up together. You got up to start picking up plates but Aaron stopped you.

“Can I?” He offered and you nodded, sitting on the couch. You hadn’t eaten at dinner, all food just meant more vomiting in the morning and you were not up for that. “Can we talk?” He asked.

“About what?” You sighed, looking over at him. “I think we’ve both said enough.”

“I’m so sorry about last night,” he sighed, coming over to you and sitting beside you. “I was awful. I was disgustingly mean just because I was overwhelmed. You’re an amazing mother to Jack, while you’re not his biological mother, you love him as such and he loves you. You’re a great parent. I was just being reactive and mean. I was so cruel and I'm sorry. I don’t want an annulment. I want to be with you forever. I know that it isn’t a problem. I know how much you love Jack and me,” he chuckled humorlessly. “I know how little I deserve it.”

You took his hand. “What you said… it was probably my worst nightmare,” you chuckled flatly. “And what you said was pretty damaging, Aaron. I just… it completely restarted the voice in my head that says I’m a terrible parent. It made me scared to think about what’s going to happen when we have our baby. I was already terrified about being pregnant, and this was just…” you trailed off as Aaron’s heart broke. Your voice was raw with emotion. You were so hurt.

“I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you are the best mother our children could ever have,” he promised and you smiled, but it lacked the regular spark your smiles usually contained.

“The best mother Jack could have is Haley. We both know that.”

Fuck. Now you were comparing yourself to Haley again. Aaron had quite literally set you back about 4 years in your confidence as Jack’s mother. “Honey-”

“I know it sounds bad, but we both know it’s true. I’m good, but as you said, I’m nothing compared to Haley. Which is fine Aaron. I understand my place.”

His heart broke for what felt like the millionth time. He’d hurt you so badly. “Honey please, I was stressed and overwhelmed and I took it out on you. I meant nothing I said. You’re the best mother to Jack and our unborn child. You are the love of my life-”

“I’m the second love of your life,” you smiled sadly at him. “I’m going to bed, goodnight Aaron.”

You walked up the stairs with a heavy heart. No matter what he said, you’ll always remember the look on his face when he told you that you weren’t enough, that you weren't Haley.

You fell asleep on your side of the bed, since you couldn’t exactly sleep in the guest room when Sean was in there.

Aaron leaned against the counter as he washed dishes, thinking about how he could fix this.

Could he even fix this?

——————————————————————————-------------------

criminal minds masterlist

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch

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joelsgreys · 1 year

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weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess.

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise.

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite.

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside.

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look.

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude.

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you.

Could Frank actually be right?

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut.

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch smells heavenly—Frank knows it’s your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart.

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly.

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant.

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in.

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair.

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum.

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe.

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside.

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking long since anyone had ever touched him like that.

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that.

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…”

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain.

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage.

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face.

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness.

But he was yours too.

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minisugakoobies · 3 months

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Yours for the Night | HHJ

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, frenemies to lovers, Model!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: so. much. cockiness from Hyunjin, arguing as a form of foreplay, a bit of dumbification, what's a little fucking between frenemies?, dick pics, exhibitionism, nipple play, mentions of slut shaming, grinding, fingerfucking, pinching, just a tiny bit of spit, unexpected use of pet names, oral sex (f receiving), wet and messy, biting, dirty talk, maybe a little degradation (talking about reader being cock stupid), unprotected sex (bc used), riding/cowgirl style, praise/use of "good girl," soft dom!hyunjin vibes, rough/hard sex, multiple positions, creampie, multiple orgasms Word Count: 8.8k Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: “Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” Or, Hyunjin makes you an offer you simply can't refuse.

A/N: I finished this earlier than expected, thanks to the inspiration that is Hyunjin at Milan Fashion Week. Have you seen him?? 🥵 Anyway, it's all because of his stunning beauty that this filthy lil pwp exists. Enjoy! 😘

Unbeta'd as usual. I would *love* to hear your thoughts - my inbox is always open (anon is on, but hateful comments will be blocked. Be kind, writers do this for free and with love!) 💕

SKZ Masterlist

It’s Friday night, you’re out for drinks with your friends, and you are frustrated.

It’s not the club that’s bothering you. You’re here tonight at Felix’s request. He’d told you all it had been too long since you’d gone out as a group, so all nine of you and your friends crammed yourselves into a couple of rides and headed for downtown.

Nor is it the incredibly tight, short, and backless dress you’ve poured yourself into that’s annoying you, though it’s certainly not helping. Your fingers anxiously grasp at the hem, tugging it down your thighs as you take a seat at the table where Felix and Seungmin are currently talking.

No, it’s something personal that has you wound tighter than a corset tonight. Work has been kicking your ass lately, and it’s put a huge damper on your sex life. You haven’t been out with anyone new in the last few months. Haven’t had any time to reach out to any of your small group of casual hookups who would typically lend a hand. Most nights you’ve even been too tired to masturbate.

Put simply, you’re ready to fucking pop.

Which is why you’re wearing this bodybinding dress and staring at the dance floor like a wildcat stalking its prey, searching to find someone to help you with your problem. Unfortunately, you’ve been here for hours, and no one’s caught your eye so far.

Your clutch rattles on the table, drawing your attention. Everyone who would usually text you is here, so out of curiosity, you take out your phone. The notification tells you that Hyunjin sent you a photo.

You glance across the room at where Hyunjin is sitting in a booth with Changbin, deep in conversation. Why would he send you a photo right now?

Your confusion only grows when you look at the photo. It’s a selfie, Hyunjin raising his champagne glass in a toast to the camera, perfectly tousled dark hair spilling over his brow as he fixes you with his signature smirk. It’s a gorgeous shot, of course, because he’s a gorgeous man, but again, why is he sending you selfies in the middle of tonight’s celebration? Or at all? Hyunjin’s never been the type to send you photos before, of himself or the group or anything.

He’s never really been the type to text you, period, outside of the group chat. Probably because the two of you aren’t really friends. Frenemies would be more accurate. You share the same group of friends, but have nothing else in common. Which is fine, you don’t have to be close to hang out, but he’s… well… he’s an acquired taste, and you’ve never developed an appreciation. Hyunjin’s snooty and cocky - overly so, in your opinion, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Most of your conversations consist of nothing but arguing. He’s very stubborn and loves to get the last word in on everything. Which drives you crazy because you prefer to have the final say.

So to say this sudden selfie has you perplexed is an understatement.

Ignoring whatever Felix and Seungmin are talking about, you fire off a question.

You: What is this? Hyunjin: Are you that drunk? It’s me

Reflexively, you scowl at your screen.

You: I know it’s you You: But WHY are you sending me a photo of yourself? Hyunjin: You’ve been staring at me all night Hyunjin: I thought maybe you’d like something to take home, to keep

Again, you look over, only to find him looking at you, lips curled to match his photo. Heat flames through you. Could he be more conceited?

Maybe the vanity isn’t totally unearned, considering that he’s an actual model, making a living using his ethereal beauty to sell products. His own lifestyle is just as luxurious as the images he appears in. Like right now, he’s wearing the finest black suit, obviously couture, with a few silver necklaces draped over his tie that you’ve no doubt cost more than your entire outfit alone.

And sure, he has a jawline carved by the gods, thick eyebrows that frame expressive, cat-like eyes, and ridiculously pouty lips that you’ve found yourself staring at once… an hour on average. Maybe in your weakest moments you’ve even dreamt about what it would be like to kiss those lips.

But does that mean he has to be a dick all the time?

You: You’re such an ass Hyunjin: Deny it all you want, but we both know you can’t keep your eyes off me Hyunjin: Not that I blame you You: It’s amazing your head still fits through doors Hyunjin: You’d be the first to notice if it didn’t

Your nostrils flare. No matter what you say, he always flips it back on you. Admittedly, you are a little tipsy, so you’re not fully on your game, but it’s still annoying as fuck. And right now, you really don’t need another reason to be frustrated.

You: Whatever, Hyunjinnie

You cast another glance at Hyunjin, delighting in the way he frowns at your response. He hates it when you call him that.

You take a moment to locate the rest of your friends. Changbin’s still sitting with Hyunjin. Jeongin and Chan are doing shots at the bar. Minho and Jisung are in their own little world on the dance floor, arms draped around one another. Neither Felix nor Seungmin seemed to have noticed that you have dropped out of their discussion. Part of you feels guilty for ignoring them, but, well, you’re a little fired up now, and the only thing that would make you feel better would be getting the last word in with Hyunjin for once.

You take a sip of your cocktail, floating the cold liquid on your tongue as you devise your next line of attack, when your phone buzzes again.

Hyunjin: I have another photo for you You: Why? Hyunjin: Because I think you’d like it You: Oh really? Like you know what I like Hyunjin: Always so argumentative Hyunjin: You’re pretty easy to figure out Hyunjin: The staring makes it incredibly obvious

Such an ass.

You: Fuck off Hyunjin: I will not You: What’s your game, man? Hyunjin: No game Hyunjin: Can’t I just do something nice for you?

The man is a riddle. An enigma draped in Versace.

You type out “I guess there’s a first time for everything” and press send, putting your phone down long enough to watch him get the text. Hyunjin laughs to himself, smiling down at his screen, and there’s this weird feeling of satisfaction in your stomach at the sight. Whatever, you like making people laugh, even assholes like him. So what.

You tell yourself that you’re not going to wait at his beck and call, jumping to read his texts as they come in, if in fact he keeps sending them, but then your phone vibrates again and you snap it up immediately, because you’re a liar.

Hyunjin: Just trust me Hyunjin: You want this Hyunjin: But I want something first You: Oh here we go You: There’s the catch A hand waves over your phone. “Hi, hello, are we boring you?”

Quickly, you turn it over before Seungmin can see your text thread. “No, sorry, I was just, uh - “

“Hey, leave her be,” your savior Felix says, pushing Seungmin lightly. “She’s had a rough couple of weeks. She shouldn’t have to suffer through your boring work stories, too.”

“Hey!”

Seungmin and Felix dissolve into arguing as you covertly flip your phone back over.

Hyunjin: I’m not asking much Hyunjin: Just a photo of you. A photo for a photo

He can’t be serious.

You: I’m not sending you a nude Hyunjin: Did I say nude? No, I did not Hyunjin: A normal selfie, that’s all

Again your suspicion rises. What is he playing at? Where is this going?

You: But WHY? Hyunjin: Maybe I can’t stop staring, either

Your breath catches in your throat. When you look up, he’s gazing at you again, but his expression is less smug than usual and more… ravenous.

You turn away so fast, your neck cracks.

Hyunjin: So? Send me a pic.

There’s no reason for you to agree to this. Absolutely no reason at all. Beyond, of course, your burning curiosity.

It’s really going to get you in trouble one day.

Grabbing your clutch, you slip off your chair. “Ladies room,” you announce, glancing at Felix and Seungmin, who aren’t listening anyway, still squabbling. You wander just far enough out of sight of your friends, find a spot with good lighting back near the bar (because even if it’s just for Hyunjin, your vanity will not let you take an unflattering photo), and snap a quick picture, firing it off right away.

As you’re sliding back into your seat, your phone vibrates. Hyunjin sent another photo.

You swallow reflexively. Holy shit. It’s a shot of his crotch, dress pants straining to contain what is clearly a massive cock, gripped through the fabric by long fingers.

Hwang Hyunjin sent you a dick pic.

So it’s not big dick energy, it’s just big dick, is the first coherent thought you have once the screeching inside your head stops. It occurs to you that you’ve been gawking unblinkingly at your phone for at least several minutes, so you raise your head to make sure your friends aren’t watching you, and thankfully they’re not. Really, you should know better than to underestimate just how much Felix and Seungmin love to bicker.

But what are you supposed to say to Hyunjin now? Your thumbs hover, waiting for inspiration, but you’re stuck.

Hyunjin: Wow, are you speechless? Hyunjin: Guess there really is a first time for everything

Even without looking, you know he’s smirking at you from across the room. Suddenly, you need another drink, so you mumble “bar” in Felix’s direction and stumble away. As the bartender mixes you another cocktail, you grip your phone tightly, waging an inner war with yourself.

You should look at the photo again. You shouldn’t look at the photo again. You should delete it, and Hyunjin’s number, and maybe throw the phone in the nearest trash bin too, just for extra comfort. But holy fuck, do you want to look at the photo again!

What you really don’t want is to think about the effect that photo has had on your pussy, because it’s humiliating how much she’s throbbing right now.

“I’ll take one of those as well, thanks.” A hand waves towards the bartender, and your treacherous brain immediately recognizes those fingers as the fingers from Hyunjin’s photo, and starts picturing what those lithe digits would look like wrapped around your throat. Great. Now your brain has joined your pussy. Traitors.

You say nothing as Hyunjin takes the seat next to you. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten under your skin again, albeit in a very different way, but also partly because you’re still not sure what to say.

“You know,” Hyunjin bends towards you, close enough for his warm breath to tickle your ear, “if I’d known that all it would take to get you to stop arguing with me was showing you my cock, I would’ve introduced you much sooner.”

“God, you are just - just the worst,” you snarl, teeth clenched hard enough to give you a headache.

“Now really, is that any way to speak to someone who just gave you a gift?” Hyunjin sips his drink calmly.

Well, there’s the Hyunjin you recognize. What you don’t understand is how he’s still making your cunt drip with need. All you can think about right now is what he’s hiding under those suit pants. Are you really this dumbstruck by cock?

(Yes. Yes, you are.)

“Me and every other woman in this club, I bet. You probably air dropped it to the whole room.” You wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe that was his plan the whole time - work you up then leave you begging while he hooked up with someone else. As if you’d beg.

“Oh no, that was just for you.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

With a roll of his eyes, Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “Come on. You know how selective I am when it comes to my clothes or my liquor. Why would I be any less selective about who I fuck?”

“Who you fuck?” Whoa, who said anything about fucking? Besides your duplicitous brain and pussy. “Who - who said - that’s not - I mean -” You’ve suddenly become the Big Bad Wolf, huffing and puffing, unable to form a complete sentence.

Hyunjin rises, leaning over you as you gaze up at him from your barstool. He places his hands on the bar, one arm on either side of you, bracketing you in, wild eyes trailing down your figure slowly before he smiles, hungry and sharp, and you realize, no, here’s the wolf.

“Listen, there’s no reason we can’t fuck. Friends fuck all the time.” His hand glides over your shoulder, light as a feather, and you watch dazedly as goosebumps ripple along your skin. His touch is electric.

“Is that what we are? Friends?”

Hyunjin shrugs, lips twisted in a droll smile. “Close enough. This doesn’t have to be complicated. You said it yourself - you’re in need.”

“What? When did - I never said that!” Again you struggle to speak coherently, sputtering in your confusion.

Hyunjin frowns. “Ah, you’re right, I misspoke. That was Felix who said that, wasn’t it? On the ride here?”

You curse inwardly, remembering the private discussion you and Felix had had on the way to the club, when you were discussing your dry spell. Or at least, it was supposed to be private, but obviously someone had been listening in. Felix had offered to play wingman for you, saying he wouldn’t let anything keep him from helping you “in your time of need” - a bit dramatic, but that was Felix for you.

You’d waved him off, insisting that you could snag someone without any help. But here you are, drowning your sorrows at the bar with no possibilities in sight. Maybe you should’ve accepted Felix’s help after all.

“That’s not…” Sighing, you shrug. There was no point in trying to deny what he’d heard. “Fine, yeah, I came here tonight hoping to leave with someone, but I didn’t mean you!”

“That’s because you didn’t know I was an option.” Again his gaze travels down your body, lingering like a slow caress. “But after seeing the way you look tonight, I had to offer myself up.”

Always. So. Cocky. You want to deny that his words have an effect on you. Want to. But can’t.

And like that, your resolve starts to slip.

“You really want to help me out?” you ask. He nods, irises blown as his eyes flicker to yours, and it puts fire in your belly, has you biting your lip in contemplation. “What makes you think you have what I need?”

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to check if any of your friends are watching as he steps closer, like he doesn’t care if anyone sees the way he cups your cheek. Or how he slides his thumb over your lips, dragging the bottom one down before lowering his mouth towards yours. He hangs there, just for a second - just long enough for you to tip your face up in a wordless answer.

His touch has nothing on his kiss. Your whole body thrums from head to toe, fizzing like the champagne on your tongue earlier, sweet and effervescent. His hand falls to your hip, squeezes there suddenly, and you feel a rush of heat between your thighs.

Hyunjin’s plush lips part, letting the tip of his tongue briefly nudge against yours before he pulls away, leaving you blinking dumbly. He lets out a low chuckle, gently wiping a drop of spit from your chin.

“I just know.”

You’re too busy licking the inside of your lips, hunting for any lingering trace of him, to respond.

“Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” His eyes dip to your mouth and back, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to make a move again. Needing him to. “Just think about it.”

And then he walks away, leaving you nearly toppling off your seat, floundering in his wake.

The ice cubes in your cocktail have all but melted by the time you remember you ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, you replay the last several minutes in your head. Did all of that just happen? Did Hyunjin really just offer himself to you? And then kiss you like that?

You feel like you’re going out of your mind.

“Just think about it.”

Hyunjin’s last words echo in your head as you wander on wobbly legs back towards the table where Felix and Seungmin are still standing.

And oh, god, do you think about it.

For the rest of the night, no matter how many conversations you have with your other friends, no matter how hard you dance, no matter what you do - the sole thought occupying your brain is what it would be like to fuck Hyunjin. Again and again, you picture him above you, beneath you, behind you, big cock stretching you out, making you scream his name.

But it’s not worth it to give in to him. It can’t be. Good dick - if it’s good - can’t be enough to undo all the annoying shit he does, can it?

You cut yourself off early in the night, explaining that someone needs to stay sober enough to call for rides, but really you’re afraid that if you get completely blitzed, you’ll end up admitting something you don’t want to admit and going home with Hyunjin. Your friends honor your noble sacrifice by achieving impressive levels of drunk, ranging from delightful (Felix repeatedly booping you on the nose, calling you his “widdle buddy”) to disastrous (Chan, who gets upset when the guy he hits on in the bathroom doesn’t respond - turns out he was hitting on his own reflection - before falling asleep in a stall).

Since the club is in the middle of downtown, you arrange for two cars to pick you and your friends up - one heading east, one heading west. Changbin, Chan, Hyunjin, and you pile into the ride heading west. Changbin hops into the passenger’s seat before you can slip in, leaving you smushed in the back between Hyunjin and Chan’s gigantic thighs.

Said thighs are splayed a bit as Chan’s head lolls back, a loud snore erupting out of him as the car makes its first stop outside Changbin’s apartment.

“Can’t take him anywhere,” Changbin grunts, snapping a rather unflattering photo of Chan sleeping with his mouth wide open, obviously saving it to drop in the group chat at the most opportune time. “Can you two make sure he gets home okay? I know it’s a bit out of the way, but, well, look at him.”

Chan continues to rumble like a fighter jet, unaware of everything going on around him.

“Yeah, don’t worry, we got him,” Hyunjin replies, and you just nod. “Night, ‘Bin.”

Changbin gives the driver Chan’s address and then he ducks out of the cab. Your place is technically the next closest, but getting Chan back to his place safe and sound is the priority.

With Chan sleeping next to you, it’s basically just you and Hyunjin alone now. A fact that has also occurred to Hyunjin, whose hand has been drifting further and further around your waist the entire ride. Now it slides around openly, tucking you against his side. You could fight it if you so desired - he’s not holding you tightly. He’s giving you the chance to escape.

You’re not sure you want to.

“Have you thought about it?” he murmurs, nose against your ear.

Your body reacts to the tone of his voice, thighs rubbing together, as you nod.

“And what did you decide?”

“I - I don’t know.”

A puff of air tickles your skin as he laughs derisively. “Do you really need some convincing?”

Chan snuffles loudly, reminding you that there’s another person right next to you, since your entire focus is on Hyunjin, and the way his hand is now creeping beneath the open back of your dress, and slowly moving up your rib cage.

When he cups your left breast, you stifle a gasp. But you can’t stop the tiny “ah!” that escapes when he gently pinches your nipple. You attempt to cover it with a cough, hoping the driver’s lack of visible response means he didn’t hear you. Meanwhile, next to you, Chan doesn’t stir.

“Feel good?” Hyunjin coos quietly. “Must’ve felt good, given the way you’re squirming right now.”

Your hips have started to rock of their own volition. Brain, hips, pussy, all on your shit list.

“But just think how much better it’ll feel when it’s my mouth.” His tongue flicks the shell of your ear before he sucks your earlobe into his warm mouth. A preview of what’s to come. It makes you squirm even harder, dying for any sort of relief for the aching between your legs.

Remarkably, you manage to speak, hissing, “You’re a demon.”

Hyunjin laughs. “You’ve no idea.”

His hand stays where it is until the car pulls up at the curb outside Chan’s house. It takes a minute for the two of you to wake Chan, then another minute for him to realize where he is, then yet another minute for him to slide out of the car. Hyunjin sighs and also climbs out of the cab to make sure Chan gets into his house safely.

When Hyunjin returns, the driver glances in the rearview mirror. “So, one more stop, or two?”

You blink at the question. The air in the cab feels heavy with implication. Hyunjin says nothing, but looks at you expectantly, and you understand - the choice is yours.

You glance at your hands, as if they’ll help you choose. Your watch informs you that it’s 2:12 in the morning. Don’t they always say not to trust any decisions you make after two am?

When the driver clears his throat a little too loudly, Hyunjin’s fingers grip your chin.

“Well? You heard him - one stop or two?”

You meet his gaze, surprised to find a fire burning in his eyes.

Maybe you’d be a fool to run towards it, seeking warmth where there might only be danger.

Fine, then. You’re a fool.

“One.”

With a satisfied grin, Hyunjin gives the driver his address.

You’re a little tense during the elevator ride up to Hyunjin’s apartment. Hyunjin, on the other hand, looks completely relaxed, quietly leaning against the wall with his normal blasé expression on his face. Like you’re not about to cross a boundary here that you never expected to cross. Like this was inevitable.

As soon as you’re both inside and his door is locked, he turns to face you, and you suck in a deep breath, waiting impatiently for him to touch you again.

Instead, he asks, “Do you want some water?”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

He must read confusion on your face - at least, you hope it looks like confusion and not disappointment - because the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile.

“A few questions first,” he says, walking into his kitchen, sliding his suit jacket off as he goes. “Are you in good health?”

“Am I - am I in good health?”

Hyunjin tuts. “I’d ask if you need me to repeat myself but clearly you heard the question.”

You stare at his back, brows furrowing as you decipher his meaning. “Are you asking if I’ve been tested recently? Yes, I have been. Nothing to report.”

“Good, me too,” he replies, yanking his tie off and tossing it onto the counter before opening the fridge and grabbing you both a bottle of water. He eyes you as he opens his. “Are you on birth control?”

“Is this what you’re like on a date? Does your foreplay always involve interrogating your partner with clinical questions?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He tilts his head back as he drinks, so he doesn’t catch the glare you shoot his way. “Answer the question.”

“Yes, dick, I’m on birth control.” You take a swig of your water. The memory of his touch in the taxi is fading more and more with every second that passes. With a clearer head, you’re starting to question if you’ve made the right choice.

“Good,” he repeats, wiping his mouth. “I prefer to fuck raw.”

You clench around nothing at the thought, but scowl anyway. “What about what I prefer?”

Hyunjin just hums, fingers brushing your cheek before they tap under your chin. “Do you want me to use a condom?” There’s no drollness or sarcasm to his tone. He’s genuinely asking.

“No.” Your pride takes a tiny hit at the way you answer him immediately, without hesitation.

Just as quickly as his gentle tone came, it disappears again, vanishing as Hyunjin flashes a smug smile. “That’s what I thought.”

“That’s what - oh fuck off.” There he is again, that cocky asshole. Reflexively, you curse at him, ready to fight. “Fuck you, you don’t know anything about me.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that I do? You’re so easy to read.”

“Really?” Okay then. You’ll call his bluff. “Go ahead, Hyunjinnie. Tell me what I like.”

He rolls his eyes. His fingers make quick work of his cufflinks, setting them on the granite top beside him, and he slides his sleeves up, revealing toned forearms beneath.

“Well, for starters, you love getting under my skin with that infantile nickname.”

“No shit. Everyone knows that.”

“You live for arguing, especially with me. Can’t let a single sentence go by without snapping back.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re always wrong.”

Hyunjin doesn’t take the bait, merely leans back against the counter, examining you so openly that you feel exposed, so you cross your arms, as if that will help you block his penetrating gaze. He takes a few seconds before speaking again.

“No, it’s not that. Though I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself. If it were, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

He speaks so calmly, so self-assuredly. It’s maddening, even though you’re burning with curiosity. Makes you want to know more, so you press him again. “Okay, then - what is it? Why am I here?”

“Because you wanted someone to take control.” He spreads his arms wide. “And here I am.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know. You want someone else to be in charge. Make the decisions. Do the work for you. Then fuck you so hard that all those thoughts just fly right out of that pretty little head of yours.” He says it all so matter-of-factly, like it’s completely evident, your deepest desires laid bare for all to witness.

You want to dismiss his words, act like he’s so far off the mark that he’s on another planet, but you’re too surprised by his answer to respond with anything other than stunned silence. His arrogant smile returns. Clearly he was expecting you to fight, so your lack of a snappy comeback only confirms to him that he’s right.

“Just look at what you’re wearing,” he continues. “That tight dress screams ‘please fuck me stupid!’ Lucky for you, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

You find your voice. “Oh, now you’re judging my clothing? And - and slut shaming me?”

“Please. I’m always judging your clothing. But it’s a taste thing, not some sort of moral judgment.” He smirks. “And I’m very supportive of sluts, thank you.”

As he sips his water, you replay the entire evening in your mind. Sending you the photos. Kissing you. Making the offer. Fuck. He really did do the work for you tonight. Was there ever a chance you were going to say no? Judging by Hyunjin’s attitude, this moment was never in doubt. He knew you’d end up here with him.

The other realization that dawns on you is - you’re not mad about any of that. The only thing you’re mad about is that, once again, he’s right about something. And he knows it.

Okay. Fine. You want to be fucked stupid. But does he have to be so fucking rude about it??

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

He suddenly steps towards you. His expression is so intense that you move without thinking, backing all the way into the fridge. Your heart feels like it might burst through your ribcage at the slightest provocation, breath leaving your lungs in tiny exhalations as his thumb ghosts your cheek.

Not because you’re scared. Because you’re excited.

“Tell me you don’t want to kiss me.”

Hyunjin says the words softly, but there’s a firmness to his gaze that makes you swallow hard.

Your lips don’t move.

He kisses you. Wraps his hands around your waist, pulls you to his demanding mouth, head turning this way and that as his lips crash onto yours.

You kiss him back. Just as greedily, just as deeply.

His hand strokes your thigh. “Tell me you don’t want me to touch you.”

You make no noise.

His fingers crawl beneath your skirt, dancing over the silk of your underwear. Your gasp warms his tongue. A throaty growl chokes him.

“So wet for me.” He brings his hand up to show you the evidence, skin glistening. As if you didn’t already know.

He surges forward, pinning you to the fridge, mouth blazing a trail from your ear to your neck as his fingers press into your soaking slit.

“Ah, Hyunjin!” you whimper, clutching wildly at his bicep. The swell of his arm bulges as his fingers slowly search your inner walls, like they’re mapping every inch of you. When they trace over your g-spot, they linger, brushing again and again. “Oh my god!”

“Tell me,” he implores, husky voice breaking, like he’s barely in control, “tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you don’t want this - don’t want me - and I’ll call you a ride and we’ll never talk about this again.”

His forehead bumps yours, eyes smoldering with bright intensity, hand still plunging.

This time, you speak, chest heaving as you gasp for air.

“Don’t - don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

A smile spreads across Hyunjin’s face. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, the other hand still working between your thighs. You moan, feeling his erection digging into your hip as he presses himself against you, holding you firmly in place while he adds a third finger to the two already fucking you open.

“Say it,” he commands, mouth wet and hot on your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want, oh, fuck, I, I want you to fuck me, Hyunjin.”

In an instant, he’s disentangled himself from you, and you can’t help but whine very loudly at the sudden loss of his fingers. Hyunjin just smirks at your naked desperation, spinning you around so you’re in front of him.

“Come on,” he says, lightly pinching your ass to make you move. You yelp, smacking him on the arm, but he just laughs. “I’m not fucking you in here. Let’s go.”

“Asshole,” you curse, but you go anyway, because all you want is for him to touch you again, and if he’s refusing to do it in here, then why would you want to stay? You’re going wherever his hands go.

Maybe you should feel ashamed, for giving in so easily. But you don’t. All you feel is desire. This is what you want. What you need.

Hyunjin’s fingers press lightly on the small of your back as he guides you down the hallway to his bedroom. It’s just as ostentatious as the rest of his place - expensive-looking light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, dark leather headboard and frame for his gigantic bed, which is covered in piles of plush-looking blankets and pillows. There’s a gorgeous painting taking up most of the wall above his bed.

He doesn’t give you much time to admire the room, because as soon as you’re in front of the bed, he spins you again, hands reaching for the zipper of your dress, sliding it to the ground, leaving you standing there in nothing but your panties. Before you can tell him to stop pushing you around, he’s kissing you fervently, like he’s been dying the entire time his mouth has been away from yours these last few minutes, and suddenly you forget that you’re irritated.

Hyunjin backs you onto the bed, breaking away from your lips long enough to urge you to move towards the headboard, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the side as he follows. When his fingers grab for his belt, they find yours already there, making short work of the buckle. He groans in delight, deciding to use his hands to grope your bare breasts while you unzip his pants.

“Can’t wait to see it in real life, huh?” he asks, dragging his thumbs over your nipples. He chuckles when you just whimper, back arching slightly to encourage him to keep touching you.

The truth is, yes, you can’t wait to see Hyunjin’s massive dick, but more importantly, you can’t wait to feel it inside you, so you continue with your task, pushing his pants and boxers down together. And god, what a cock it is, long and thick and positively darkened with need. Smeared drops of excitement coat the head, and the sight makes your mouth water.

He rises up to kneel between your legs, grabbing his cock with one hand and giving it a few lazy pumps. “Well? Don’t tell me you’re speechless again.”

“Goddamn it,” you huff in exasperation, “you’re the fucking worst.” But you can’t stop staring as he gently squeezes the head, making a pleased noise, relieving himself a little while he watches you writhe in impatience.

“You’ll be singing a different tune in a moment, sweetheart.”

Your nose wrinkles at how easily ‘sweetheart’ drips off his tongue. “Just put it in me already,” you demand, leaning back on your elbows, licking your lips as you peer up at him, trying to send a blatant “fuck me!” signal with every inch of your body.

Hyunjin tuts, lifting one of his gorgeously thick eyebrows. “Right to it? Is that what you really want?” In one swift motion, he hooks a finger under your panties and drags them down and off. It’d be a more impressive move if anyone but him were doing it.

“I just… I thought we were gonna fuck?” Isn’t that what you’re here for?

“Of course we are. But is that how you typically do it? No foreplay, no build up?” His fingers rake down your stomach, trail over your thighs, causing your body to twitch with shivers. “That doesn’t sound like any fun at all.”

It’s not how you’d prefer to do this, no. You’re just surprised that he agrees. So you say nothing in reply, visibly closing your mouth while he maneuvers you into position, pushing your legs up so your knees bend, your thighs meeting your stomach, completely exposing your cunt to him.

“That’s better. Just let me play with you a little first, sweetheart. I promise you’ll like it.”

Your instinct is to argue with him, tell him he has no idea what you’d like, but you’ve already done that tonight. And you were wrong. So again, you bite your tongue.

Until he extends his own, letting a string of spit fall onto your pussy.

“Ew, Hyunjin!” You’re disgusted, but not with him. Why do you find that so hot?

“Too much?” he inquires, letting go of your legs as he glances at you. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a real expression of concern on his face before. It rattles you slightly.

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “No - keep going.”

He nods, hands reaching for your thighs again. “If I hit any hard no’s for you, say something, and I promise I’ll stop, okay?”

“I will.”

He bows over you again, licking a straight line up your slit. With a moan, you let your head drop back against the pillows. His mouth feels absolutely divine.

Where others in the past just dove in, Hyunjin takes his time. He drags his tongue around slowly, licking through your soaking folds, tasting you. It reminds you of the way you’d seen him drink a really fine whisky, holding it in his mouth, quietly identifying every note, every flavor. Relishing, instead of rushing.

When his lips brush over your clit, leaving teasing kisses, you moan. Hyunjin hums, a self-satisfied little rumble, and lifts his head. “See? Told you you’d like this.”

“Please, shut up and suck my clit.” It’s meant to be an order but definitely sounds like a pathetic whine. Whatever, as long as he listens.

He listens. Those plush lips that you can’t stop yourself from staring at roll over your already throbbing little nub and warm pleasure runs down your spine before pooling in your belly. His dark hair keeps falling in his face, obscuring him from your view, and for some reason you can’t have that. Tentatively, you reach out, hand shaking a little.

Hyunjin hums when your fingers slide through his soft locks, pushing the strands back, holding them in place so you can see his eyes, the way they squeeze shut when he sucks noisily on your clit. The sounds he makes are so loud, completely uninhibited, moaning and grunting as his lips smack and his tongue laps.

He uses said tongue to fuck you expertly, his movements so confident, so sure. He reads every quiver, listens to every moan, figures out how to work you up with quick, teasing shallow plunges, before slowing it down, going deeper, tongue brushing your walls like he’s speaking a language only your body understands.

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

His mouth parts from you long enough for him to speak. “There it is. There’s the tone I was looking for. Enjoy this, sweetheart. I know I am.”

You’re enjoying it so much that you unexpectedly whimper when he stops again a moment later, feeling a little embarrassed as he exhales a quiet laugh into your warmth. “Just hold on,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up your slit to pass over your clit again and again, before sliding a finger into your clenching hole.

“Ohhhh.”

The combination is so good, his finger filling you while his mouth suctions to you, that your eyes flutter shut. He pulls out and glides back in, all the way to his knuckles in one smooth motion, your wet folds parting so easily for him. He’s done an amazing job of spreading your slickness around, coating your inner thighs, messing his bed beneath you.

“Gonna make you come,” Hyunjin says, spreading you open with two fingers now. “Need you to come before I can fuck you just like you want. Can you do that for me?”

The tension in your gut tells you that that shouldn’t be a problem. Both fingers have curled inside you, stroking over your soft spot, making you pant, clutching Hyunjin’s satin sheets for dear life.

“Hy-Hyun-”

Before you can even finish saying his name, the tension snaps, nerves firing from your cunt to your toes, causing your legs to lock up. Hyunjin groans, moving his hands to grasp at your thighs, trying to loosen their squeeze.

“Easy, sweetheart, don’t take me out just yet.” When your body finally starts to relax, he grins. “There we go. Good girl.”

If this were any other time, you’d snap at him for dropping that pet phrase on you. But you’re too blissed out at the moment, practically purring as he starts to kiss his way up your torso.

When he reaches your breasts, he joins you, a low rumble sounding from the back of his throat. His nose nuzzles between them, as he leaves loud kisses on their swelling curves.

Another thing Hyunjin isn’t wrong about - his mouth feels much better than his fingers do on your nipples, tongue gliding like warm velvet against the pert nubs. You continuously moan, until you’re nearly panting, fingers once again finding his dark locks and threading themselves between.

“How am I doing, sweetheart?” he murmurs.

“Good.” It doesn’t even occur to you to tell him anything but the truth. “So good, Hyunjinnie. Ah!” You flinch as he suddenly nips the other nipple, teeth clamping gently. “Why?!”

“You and that damn nickname. I must not be doing enough if you’re still calling me that.” He rises onto his knees, shaking his head. “Guess I just gotta fuck it out of you.”

And just like that, you feel that spark again.

“Sure you will, Hyunjinnie,” you simper, voice dripping with honey, so sickeningly-sweet as you coo his name. It has the desired effect, making Hyunjin’s eyes flash.

He reaches for you, pulling you up into his lap, before you can so much as breathe. “You doubting me, sweetheart?” His hands press into your hips, urging you down on him. Both of you groan as his cock slides along your cunt, and the sparks inside you ignite.

“I’m not your sweetheart,” you spit back, feeling that familiar sense of agitation, but it’s not annoyance now, it’s anticipation.

“And I’m not really yours, but let’s play pretend for the night,” he drawls, and you look at him with wide eyes, but he kisses away the wonder on your face, working you up with teeth and tongue, until you’re frenzied with need. Your fingers clutch at his biceps, nails sinking in to tether him closer.

His hands on your waist guide you down again. As his cockhead breaches your lips, you keen, head falling forward onto his shoulder.

“Holy fuck,” you gasp. The stretch is delicious, cunt already throbbing around his thickness.

Both of you freeze when you’re fully seated on him, no sounds in the room but the rhythmic cadence of your panting intertwining with his.

“You know,” Hyunjin speaks through grit teeth, focused on the spot where your bodies join, “we could’ve been doing this a long, long time ago.”

You don’t know what to say to that. How long has he wanted this? You’re not sure the exact answer for yourself, except that it’s longer than you’d ever truly want to confess.

“Maybe - maybe if you weren’t such a - oh, oh, oh!” Your lame attempt at a retort is lost to the rapid snapping of Hyunjin’s hips when he starts to thrust up into you. There’s nothing you can do but bounce in his lap, clinging to his shoulders as he finally fucks you just as hard as he’d promised. “Hyunjin, please!”

Hyunjin grunts, perspiration trickling down his forehead as he concentrates on giving you what you wanted. His jaw flexes, brows drawn together in a frown, and even with this fierce expression on his face, he’s so beautiful that you can’t help yourself, diving forward to kiss that gorgeous mouth of his like you’ve always imagined, as if you weren’t just kissing him a few minutes ago, but like it’s the first time, tracing his lips with yours, imprinting the feeling of them against your own to store away in your memory for later.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His words are the oxygen you inhale, tongues pressed together like the pages of a book. “I think I prefer you this way. So needy for my cock.” He smirks. “Kinda want to keep you like this.”

He digs his fingers into the plump roundness of your ass as he grinds into you, sliding you back and forth. Your hips undulate, rolling you down on his big cock, feeling every inch of him rubbing against your walls.

“Hyu-hyu-hyun!”

It’s impossible to get an entire word out, given the pace at which Hyunjin’s strokes are jostling you. Your staccato cries get louder when he switches it up, laying you on your back and shoving a pillow under your hips. His thighs smack into your ass with every plunge of his thick length, and again you can do nothing but try to breathe, drowning in euphoria as you are.

“Yeah, you’re best just like this. Stuffed full of cock, no room for thoughts. Or arguments.”

“F-fuck!” You were trying to say ‘fuck off’ but Hyunjin chose that moment to thumb at your clit, giving the aching nub the friction it so badly needed. Your hips buck up, making Hyunjin groan.

“Just like that, so good for me.”

You whine involuntarily at his praise, hips lifting again, trying to take him deeper. Every stroke of his cock lights you up, your body tingling from head to toe. The strong thrumming in your gut is going to overtake you soon and you’re finally going to get what you’ve been needing for weeks now. And it’s Hyunjin of all people who is going to give it to you.

You’re pulled out of your reverie as Hyunjin suddenly pulls out, falling onto his side next to you.

“What are y- oh!” You gasp as he turns you on your side, facing away from him. One hand lifts your leg, sliding it back until your calf loops over his. Then he enters you again, and again, thrusting in deep, powerful movements. “Oh, fuck, goddamn.”

“That’s right,” he growls, arm beneath you bending, hand coming to a rest around your throat. Not squeezing, but holding you in place, back pressed to his front. You’re both covered in sweat, bodies gliding over one another, making it hard for him to keep his pace. So his fingers spread on your chest, locking you in place, giving him leverage to pound into you. “Take it, sweetheart. Take what I give you like a good girl.”

“Ahhh,” you moan, “don’t - don’t call me that.”

“No? You don’t like being praised?” Hyunjin releases his hold on your thigh, running his others fingers around where his cock keeps sliding between your lips. “Your pussy tells me another story. You’re soaking my sheets.”

“Nah - ah - not that, ’s not that.” With this slightly slower rhythm, you’re able to speak, but full sentences still seem hard. “Like praise. Hate - hate good girl.”

“Ohhh, I see.” Hyunjin laughs breathily. “I should’ve known. You’re too proud. Think it makes you look weak if I call you that? Hmm?”

Even in your desperate state, you know he’s not far off from the truth. You don’t want him calling you that, because it feels like giving in to him. Letting him take control completely. Possessing you. His good girl.

The real, honest to god truth is - you can’t let him call you that, because you do want it. And you hate how much you want it.

So you deny it. Or at least, you try to. But all you can stutter is a weak “You’re s-such a d-dick,” as he continues snapping his hips into your ass, making your entire body jiggle in his strong grip.

Hyunjin drops an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, wet and sloppy. You curl your fingers into his arm as you sense that you’re approaching the precipice of your orgasm. You can tell that it’s going to be an intense one, one of those climaxes that clears your mind of all thought and leaves you literally shaking in ecstasy. Just as he’d promised.

You do appreciate a man who follows through on his promises.

Hyunjin must feel the way you’re starting to clench around him, groaning into your shoulder. “Ahh, I think this little cunt’s trying to tell me something again, sweetheart. You gonna come for me? Hmmm?” His fingers rub over your clit, the sudden touch making you jolt. “Come on, be a good girl and c-”

Twisting your head, you smash your nose into his cheek, clumsily seeking his mouth. Cutting him off with heated kisses, hoping he’ll interpret it as annoyance fueling your actions and not see it for what it truly is - untamed desire.

A strangled cry passes from Hyunjin’s lips into yours, and with one more tweak to your clit, you come undone. Your body locks up, thighs going rigid, cunt clamping around his cock so fiercely that Hyunjin hisses loudly, forehead resting on the nape of your neck.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight,” he whispers in your ear. Sweat drips from his skin onto yours. “You’re gonna make me come. Is that what you want?”

You can’t answer. You’re gone, completely gone, beyond words, capable of making only the most broken, pathetic sounds, wantonly mewling as slowly grinds into you, cock rubbing against your clenching walls. When your legs start to go slack, he resumes his thrusting, but at a languorous pace, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to go easy on you now that you’re approaching overstimulation, or if he’s trying to slow himself down.

“I think it is what you want. I think you want me to fill this little pussy up with my cum, don’t you? Hmm?” His nose prods at your cheek. “A sweet creampie for my good girl?”

The whine that you let you out is pitifully loud. White hot shame spikes through you, but only for a second, the emotion quickly burnt away by your fervent need.

“Come on, tell me. Tell me you want it.”

“Ahhh!” You gasp as his cock sinks in deeper, hitting your g-spot. It’s almost too much, the delicious drag, and your fingers dig into his arm, nails sinking into his skin. “Fuck!”

“Tell me,” he says again, but this time there’s a plea laced into the command, a desperate edge in his tone that strikes a chord somewhere deep inside you, and suddenly you want to give him anything he needs.

“Hyunjin, I want it, p-please!”

Those are the magic words. Hyunjin groans, his hips falling out of their slow rhythm, jerking erratically as he does exactly what he said, shooting his load deep inside you, moaning your name the entire time. You grip the sheets so hard, you’re afraid you’ll tear them, shoving your hips back against his, riding out his climax with him.

“Pussy’s sucking me dry, sweetheart. So greedy,” he pants, trailing kisses along your neck. “Think it wants more.”

“Hyunjin!” You sob his name again, voice breaking. All it takes is his fingers pinching at your clit and you’re coming again, stomach twitching, breath leaving your body in one big rush.

When your body stops trembling, Hyunjin finally slips out of you, his hand falling away from your cunt. He lets out a tired laugh.

“You can take your nails out of my arm. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh.” Your neck burns a little in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were still holding on to him so tightly, unconsciously keeping him in place. Keeping him close to you. You relax your grip, and he slides his arms around you further, locking you into his embrace.

It’s… nice, being in Hyunjin’s arms. Really nice. Lying there, in your messy, tired state, you feel rather content.

But the longer you lie there, just breathing together, not speaking, your head starts to fill with thoughts again. Questions. The most pressing being, at what point is he going to kick you out? Because despite everything that just happened, he’s still Hyunjin, and you’re still you, and -

“It’s already started.” Hyunjin hums, lightly shaking you. “I can hear you thinking again.”

Your reflexes kick back in. “It’s just what I do. You should try it some time.”

To your surprise, Hyunjin starts to laugh. You roll over, nose bumping his as you give him a curious look.

“What?”

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” He brushes a finger over your cheek. “You’ve got a fighter’s instinct. It’s one of the things I admire about you. But maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to fight me all the time?”

You stare at him as you try to make sense of the rather casual confession of admiration he just dropped. Nope. Can’t. Not right now.

“I…” You pause. “Sorry. It’s just a habit.”

He smiles, something genuine that slowly shifts into his familiar smirk, and even as spent as you are, you feel a stirring inside you. “Guess we need to work on that.”

In the morning, you might regret what you say next. But the night’s not over yet. “Maybe you just didn’t fuck me stupid enough yet.”

Hyunjin accepts your challenge with a kiss.

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milky-aeons · 3 months

Text

'𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and fyodor dostoevsky; what they would be like on their wedding day.

warnings: marriage, swearing, alcohol-intake, wife reader, w.c 3.5k

ᯓ★𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

: ̗̀➛ Dazai, who never really acted like a conventional human being, also did not propose like one, either. After dating the enigmatic Armed Detective Agent for, by then, two years, you did not expect him to get down on one knee and produce a beautiful ring, like you had seen in the movies. But you also did not expect him to drop the question like it was a frivolous thing one random Tuesday evening while you both shared a drink at your favourite late-night bar.

Blinking, your glass frozen mid-way to your lips, you turned to him and said, "What did you... just say?" That mischievous smile you were so quick to fall for flashed across his face. "I said, why don't we get married, hmm~?"

: ̗̀➛ There was no other answer in your mind, your heart, than a resounding yes. For he was the thorn in your side as much as he was your other half. Through the whirlwind of months following, you found it hard to discern where one day ended and the next began. Time bled together until you didn't have nearly enough of it, and the day of the ceremony was here. It was a casual affair not bound too tightly by tradition. By the help of the agents, an old, abandoned manor sitting by the riverside had been fashioned into your very own cathedral.

: ̗̀➛ Yosano Akiko fussed over your dress, your hair, your makeup — to a point where you thought she was having way too much fun. And yet, she left no stones unturned, either. As you walked in through the building decorated with bouquets of flowers and rows upon rows of familiar faces, she hooked her arm into yours and walked by your side. Using Thou Shalt Not Die, the doctor instructed fluttering, iridescent butterflies to sit against your dress and your veil, the cornet of your hair, any place she could in order to make you glow.

: ̗̀➛ He stood to his towering height at the alter with his back turned to you in an immaculate suit of white. And when he spun to face you, you fell in love for a second time — with his brunet hair tucked behind his ear, the blue rose pinned to his suit lapel and his eyes; how they watched you. With a type of stunned disbelief that melted into adoration. When you came to stand by his side in front of the pastor, his hand reached down to twine with your fingers, and he whispered;

"You — are absolutely breath-taking."

: ̗̀➛ Kyouka Izumi played the role of ring-bearer, delivering a small white pillow with the two shining bands once it was time to say your vows. Dazai reached out tenderly, slowly, as if to preserve this moment for as long as he could, and lifted the veil from your face. His eyes shuttered. He reached for your hand and slid the smaller band onto your finger, his eyes downcast, his voice low and intimate.

"Through you I have found what it means to love, what it is to feel human, and while I am by your side — I endeavour to protect and earn that title. For as long as I shall live, I am yours. My soul, my name, they are all yours."

: ̗̀➛ As the ceremony reached its closure, when you had both been bound to each other in heart and in soul, Dazai could not wait another moment before he could reach for you. As soon as the words you may kiss the bride left the pastor's lips, Dazai had looped his arms around your waist and bent you back into a dramatic dip. Cheers and claps filled the riverside chapel, you smiled widely against his lips, expecting nothing less of him. Your soulmate. Your husband. Your Osamu, who's name you brandished as your own.

𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 . . .

"Kunikida-kun~!" Dazai's loud voice, a little accentuated with alcohol, swam over the crowd. "Play the thing we talked about!"

Curious, your head turned to the sounds of footsteps shuffling onto the dancefloor illuminated by pale spotlights. The afterparty was in full swing, you had been flanked by a group of well-wishing women when your husband's voice reached your ears. Each of you observed as Dazai, alongside Kunikida, Junichirou, Atsushi and little Kenji took centre stage. Excited murmurs fluttered through the throng.

"What on earth are they doing?" You wondered, and then the starting notes to All The Single Ladies began blaring from the party speakers. Your mouth dropped. Every single one of the Armed Detective Agents began to move in unison to the beat of the music.

And for the third time, you fell in love with him, again. Expecting that there would be many more to come.

ᯓ★𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎

: ̗̀➛ Kunikida Doppo, who, at first, had not planned to marry you. After all, you only met twenty out of his proposed fifty-eight requirements that made the perfect wife. That was the thing about your relationship, however — you had come into the agent's life unplanned, uninvited, and turned every one of his rigid ideals up on their heads.

: ̗̀➛ Yet it was only telling of the Idealist and his old habits, how Kunikida went about asking for your hand in marriage. It had been early on a weekday afternoon when he had called you into one of the private meeting rooms of the Agency's office. He'd pushed his glasses up the strong bridge of his nose and laid out his terms. He'd even written a business contract for you to sign. The page had gone flying in the air when you had tackled him from across the table. Smattering a thousand kisses against his blushing, flustered face and breathing the words yes, yes, you silly man, yes!

: ̗̀➛ To concur with both your family's wishes and his own, a traditional wedding was set in motion. Kunikida Doppo was always a man to abide by rules and regulations, but it had occurred to you that perhaps he was taking this affair a little too seriously. For your parents, he gifted them the very traditional shiraga thread. During the sake ceremony, the blond sat ramrod straight, moving mechanically to take sips from the three cups. One for past, one for present, and one for your future. Together.

: ̗̀➛ He was so serious, in fact, that you had become nervous on the morning of your wedding — your most beloved of friends helping you into your garments, trying to soothe your thoughts. What if he doesn't want to marry me? You would whisper as they fashioned your hair up. What if I've forced him into this, what if he's unhappy? To one of your many anxieties, your friend had met your eyes in the mirror, and smiled.

"Oh, honey," She chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "You should see the way that man looks at you."

: ̗̀➛ Her words played in your mind as the traditional music was strung during your procession to meet him. The black colours he donned made his long ponytail appear golden, his body strong, his face even more handsome. As he watched you come down the shrine walkway to be by his side, the blond reached up with one hand to push his glasses away and covered his eyes. It had taken you a few months after to realise that in that moment, Kunikida Doppo had shed a tear.

: ̗̀➛ It was not tradition for vows to be spoken, and yet Kunikida asked to say a few words as the ceremony drew to a close. You watched him carefully as he picked up the microphone, curious at the intentions he had. It was in that moment that your newly wed husband faced the crowd and brought the mic to his lips.

"First, I would like to thank you all for gracing our marriage with both your presence and your blessings. It is something we will see not to squander." "Second, I would like to say some thoughts of mine, if you would all be so inclined. Marriage, to me, was initially an agreement of convenience. I had the perfect woman laid out seamlessly. And in my wife that stands with me today, I say that she is not that perfect woman I so wished to find. But she is everything more. She is my best friend, she is my support, she is the person I go to sleep thinking of and wake up searching for. To me, she is my home, and I will take care of her fiercely."

: ̗̀➛ At your small reception, Kunikida was stolen away from you by some affiliates of the Armed Detective Agency and had his sake cup topped up one too many times. He found you afterwards, and proclaimed both his love and adoration for his newly-betrothed to everyone and anyone that was within a five mile radius.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . .

"Come here," You whispered to him, now in the comfort of your own apartment walls. A considerably uncoordinated Kunikida was struggling out of his Haorihimo, cursing in drunken slurs and promises of retribution to the small sliver of fabric.

Your fingers eased the cloth out from underneath his arms and you began to loosen the knot. Your husband was staring up at you from behind his crooked glasses. He swayed a little, and you stood in front of him, ready to support him if he went toppling forward off the bed.

But then, two strong, solid arms came up to the small of your back and he crushed you against him. Burying his head into your chest, he murmured;

"From the very first day I met you... I loved you. D'ya know that?"

Your heart grew tiny wings in your chest and began to sore. Smiling, you reached up, carding your fingers through his blond locks and undoing the tight ponytail.

"The first day you met me, you told me I was inefficient and lazy, my dear husband." You mused.

He grunted. "Same... thing."

ᯓ★𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with Atsushi was one that blossomed slow and tenderly. It was a natural progression, after three years of happy dating, for the agent to ask you to marry him. Everything Atsushi Nakajima did in regards to showing his affection for you was always timid and reserved — you never expected it; the elaborate surprise he had waiting in store for you that morning you came into the Agency's offices just like you always did.

: ̗̀➛ Well, perhaps he had a little help from the other agents, for the office was barren when you entered. Your eyebrows had creased at the very uncharacteristic quiet of the usually chaotic area you worked in. You had checked the time, wondering if you had showed up a little too early on accident. But then, there was a voice — the voice of agent Dazai Osamu, shouting at you to come to the nearest window and to do so urgently—!

Each of the agents stood at the sidewalk, all holding up a sign with different characters that made up a whole sentence. A question. And Atsushi — your sweet, kind, caring Atsushi, was perched in the middle, the biggest bouquet of roses in his sheepish hands. Will you marry me?

: ̗̀➛ Both you and Atsushi decide to get married somewhere far removed from the city skyline of Yokohama. You wanted somewhere special to remember this day, and perhaps, the great outdoors and stretching greens spoke to Atsushi's beastly side a little more, too. So you chose the heart of a nearby woodland where a great, ancient willow tree served as your alter.

: ̗̀➛ Atsushi wore a suit of sky-blue. You wore a simple slip dress decorated with accents of lace and flowers, Kenji had twined some wildflowers into your hair. The fauna of the forest acted as your choir when you walked down the small trail of brambles to your soon-to-be husband who waited at the base of the winding trunk.

: ̗̀➛ The reception was held in a greenhouse funded by the Agency's private books — you and Atsushi were members, after all, so Kunikida took a little less persuading than usual to move his ledgers around. For lunch, you served chazuke, and when you took the first dance, Atsushi's eyes appeared more gold than they were violet as they looked at you so lovingly the whole time.

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 . . .

"Atsushi, they'll notice that we're gone." You giggled, bunching your dress up so you could step over the little bush of thickets. When you both reached the winding roots of the willow tree you promised yourselves to each other underneath, Atsushi transformed his arms and legs into their tiger equivalents.

"Dazai-san said he'd keep everyone entertained." He whispered, and then stepped forward to wrap his soft arms around you. "Are you ready?"

"It may be a little late for second thoughts." You teased, but looped your arms around his slender neck and relaxed into his hold. The new golden band on your finger glinted in the moonlight.

And using that tiger-strength, Atsushi dug his claws into the ancient tree bark and began to climb. Higher and higher until you both broke through the canopy cover and could look to the millions of stars winking at you overhead.

"Oh, Atsushi." You breathed in awe, taking in the wonders above. "Oh, it's beautiful."

Your husband nuzzled into your hair and whispered, "Each one represents all the lifetimes I'd still find and fall in love with you in."

ᯓ★𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

: ̗̀➛ It had initially been you and your General lover's plan to keep your engagement quiet and have a small affair away from town. Just the two of you, because Chuuya thought some of his colleagues were insufferable pains in his ass, and all hell would break loose if they were to figure out they had a wedding plan on their hands. It was, however, unfortunate, that you two had been discussing what type of ceremony you'd like to have when Hirotsu was just about to turn one of the corners. It took exactly one hour for the entire Port Mafia to know. Two for it to reach the Armed Detective Agency.

: ̗̀➛ It was no longer a personal affair. This wedding became a spectacle within the Mafia's ranks. From the lowest levels all the way to the boss himself, everyone was abuzz with ideas and anticipation, excited that one of their top brass was getting married and they could all take advantage of the time off to have a grand party. Chuuya threatened to resign several times, you always laughed at how excited the entire criminal organisation became at the prospect of celebration.

: ̗̀➛ True to the boss' word, you and Chuuya's wedding was held in one of the grandest churches Yokohama had to offer — having mysteriously skipped the two year waiting list. The building was laved in gold and stain glass windows. Chuuya wore a fine suit of blood-red and a black tie that contrasted with his wild curls, his hard blue eyes. But when they saw you come down the aisle, they softened, and when he said his vows to you, you never thought anyone would look at you with such adoration ever again.

: ̗̀➛ The main event was held in the bowels of the Port Mafia — one of the largest show-rooms this organisation had to offer, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and a private band playing any songs they were requested. Chuuya, for the majority of your reception, could not seem to keep his hands off of you. If you were not by his hip, his eyes would instantly go searching for you within the throng of party-goers. When he did find you, he would place a hand to the small of your back, he'd lean in to kiss you and say;

"There you are, my wife."

: ̗̀➛ There was another reason as to why Chuuya Nakahara was originally so hellbent on taking your wedding somewhere more quiet and peaceful. And it came in the form of a brunet ex-partner waltzing into the organisation's party, a broad simper on his infuriating face. Dazai Osamu took your hand and kissed the back of it, extending his deepest sympathies and that if you ever needed to blow off steam, he could give you his number.

: ̗̀➛ The Port Mafia ballroom had originally started off with three grand chandeliers. After Dazai had purred those taunting words, there was then, only two.

: ̗̀➛ After the many shards had been swept from the floor by a cleaning crew, the private band struck an up-beat quartet. Both you and your newly-wed husband took to the floor for the first dance. Chuuya's hand splayed protectively against your back, his other gloved palm slotting into yours and guiding you to twirl, skip, spin.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 . . .

"Shit, sorry." He grumbled when your foreheads were touching, the proximity sending his breath fanning across your cheeks. His pointy canines were jutting against his bottom lip. "That motherfucker — he just makes me see red."

"Hey, it's okay." You said, catching his eyes. "Because I love you. You, Nakahara. I am all yours and no one else's."

Those words touched something deep within this man's chest. Of course, the proof that you were his sat in the form of two stacked rings on your left hand, but to hear it. To look into your beautiful eyes and see the amount of love there.

He surprised you by reaching down to your hips and lifting you up, twirling you around, around, around.

"And I'm forever yours, babydoll."

ᯓ★𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘

: ̗̀➛ The initial letter you received from Fyodor asking for your hand in marriage — originally, you believed it to be fake. A shallow joke from someone who knew of you and the mastermind's occasional on-and-off relationship whenever he returned to your homeland. But as you traced the delicate loops of the handwriting that looked so much like his own, in the intimate moonlight beams of late night — you'd let yourself imagine. Hope. Only for it to swell and dwindle like ashes of a flame. Because there was just no way he would ask to marry you. That he would marry, at all.

: ̗̀➛ It was fitting then; how palpable your shock was when the slender, pale man you had accidentally fallen in love with — like a fool — was standing on the other side of your door that early morning. You had blinked hard, rubbed your eyes, wondered if you were weary from too many sleepless nights. When the stars had cleared from your vision, he was still there. An amused little smile stretched against his lips.

"So? Are you ready to get married?" You stared at him. And stared. And then dropped your morning cup of coffee onto the tiles of your hallway.

: ̗̀➛ At the news of your sudden betrothal, your family were both elated with a healthy dose of scepticism. Who is this man you are intending to marry, they fluttered around you with questions when you broke the news. Fyodor? I've never heard you speak of him, why do you intend to marry this man, girl? At that, you had smiled, not bothering to hide the small heat of blush on your ears, and murmured;

"Because he's a thief, and he stole my heart a very long time ago."

: ̗̀➛ The wedding was held in an old cathedral of gothic architecture. You don't think you've ever seen Fyodor look so refined; standing there in his simple suit of stone-grey with a black shirt. He had his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyebags were a little less pronounced, his skin brighter — but perhaps that was just the early-morning light. When you stood before your husband to-be and handed your heart over to him, for him, there was a shift in his eyes. You could not explain it, but you knew it ran deep. You knew that in his own way, he was also handing himself over to you. And you would accept all of him, just like you accepted his name.

: ̗̀➛ Much to the dismay of your family, you did not hold a wedding reception after the ceremony, but that was only because Fyodor decided to walk with you through the freezing streets of Moscow. He held your hand, and even though on many nights where you lay together he was stone-cold, today, he felt warm.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .

"Fyodor?"

"Hmm?" He answered, noticing the sheepish tone in your voice. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes.

"Why did you ask to marry me?"

Fyodor held your gaze for a long, pregnant second. It was at that moment that a single flake of snow fluttered down from the grey sky and landed on his immaculate suit. Then another. Each one the same colour as your dress, each one different to the rest.

Fyodor held out his hand to catch them. "Why does the snow fall? Because it is natural. It is meant to be. I married you because it is the way I wish to fall. With you, by my side."

✎ . . . requested by the lovely @cocodrilofeliz!

WRITING REQUESTS

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