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writersdrug · 4 days

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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 3

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Warnings: mild cursing, boredom, thas really it

A/N: Holy shit I cannot believe how much love this is getting, and it's so much fun to write!! I've decided to makes this a fully fledged fic instead of just a drabble, and I'll be posting it on ao3 too! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Also sorry if formatting changes, I'm trying to have some sort of order among my writing.

Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.

You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.

You decided to phone a friend.

"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.

"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."

"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."

You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."

"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"

"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."

"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"

You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."

"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."

You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"

"You know it! Nina's coming too."

You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."

"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."

"She'd better be. Love you!"

The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...

Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.

"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.

She sighed and looked away.

Maybe it was time for a walk.

"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.

"Fancy a walk?" You asked.

She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."

On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.

"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.

You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"

She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.

Oh, right. Military dog.

"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.

For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?

You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.

Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.

"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"

She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.

"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"

She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"

------------

Simon sat stoicly on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.

Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?

He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.

"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.

"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.

"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"

Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."

"Who'd ye get?"

"What's it to you?"

"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"

"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.

He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.

But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?

Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.

...

Fuck.

He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...

He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.

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#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #cod fanfiction #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader

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noxtivagus · 2 years

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🫶🏼

#🌙.rambles #ok i am still v tired but i feel a lot better again :]#sorry though if i lack energy or am inconsistent in being active >.>#at my own pace.... yes #I'LL INTERACT MORE AGAIN WHEN I FEEL BETTER <3 #i kinda want to disappear or just sleep for a long time but i'm busy n i have a lot to do #life will go on. it hurts but i'm stronger than that #it hurts because i know i'm not good enough. it's not enough #but i'll continue to try my best to be happy with what i have #n someday. someday my efforts will make up for something #and i could be certain of something more than this pain i carry #no lie i'm greatly disappointed in myself for numerous things n i'm so tired but #ahh it hurts i won't deny that but i have to do better!!!!#it's nearly midnight #a week left huh #i'm afraid that as time goes by there'll be things i'll forget. things i'll have to leave behind. or maybe i'll be the one falling behind #ahh i'm really so tired. so much to do n i'm overwhelmed by so many things but #i'll keep on going. i don't know what i'm doing but #yeah. yeah #n so i'll write as i have always done #reflecting n i have so many secrets wtf i don't even mean to be that way

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rreids · 16 days

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BE GOOD TO ME • A. HOTCHNER X READER

__ used in place of reader's name; age gap (both legal, unspecified, hotch implied to have worked with the reader's father); fem!reader; alcohol consumption; fluff; angst (i'm v bad at it, apologies); fears of abandonment; hotch is a bit insensitive at times; no jack or haley (assumed they have the same issues with his work & broke up pre-fic); sexual tension; has a nsfw section, skip from: (“Okay, they’re shut,” -> "I'll stay." if you are a minor or don't like smut; ~5k words; a poorly written ending, honestly; an (early!!!) birthday present for @hotchfiles (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) smut warnings: dom!hotch (nothing intense), fingering, marking, unprotected sex (do not copy them <3), oral (m receiving).

Moving was always a hassle.

Stressful, tiring, made tensions high — the works. It took the better part of your first day in Quantico to move in, and you could only settle onto your new couch (courtesy of your father, who’d worked in Narcotics at the FBI early on in his career, and was more than excited to find out that you wanted to move there) when the sun was thirty minutes from setting.

“Yes, yeah, Dad, I’m fine. I only had thirty more minutes of unpacking when you were leaving,” you click on speaker phone and lean your head back, sighing as you try to work a cord in your neck. “I’ll say hi to my neighbors tomorrow. Yes. Yes, I’m going to eat. The food you gave me to put in the fridge. I have my first day at the café tomorrow, I’ll get groceries then.”

He rambles for a bit and you close your eyes, letting him talk and talk. It’s nice. You know he worries.

“Ok, Dad, I got it. I’ll contact Gideon if anything comes up, and I’ll ask around for his team or wife — girlfriend? — if he’s busy. I love you, but I’m gonna go get ready for bed. Okay? Yeah. Thank you. Bye-bye,”

He hangs up first, knowing you hate to be the one to click it.

You sigh and stretch, tossing the phone down on the cushion. By the time you gain the energy to stand and go to the fridge, there’s a ring of your doorbell.

You’re not expecting anyone, so you approach cautiously, peering through the peephole. It’s a man, older, but you can’t place by how much, standing with his hands in his pockets.

You crack the door, keeping the secondary lock in place. “Hello?”

“Good evening,” his voice has a nice husk to it. “Sorry, I should introduce myself. My name’s Aaron, I’m your neighbor. Wanted to ask if there’s any groceries or anything I could bring you, something to help you get settled or maybe you forgot to pack for the move…?”

You eye him warily.

“I was going to make cookies but I can’t bake.”

You chuckle. “Um, I think I’m okay. Are you handy, by any chance?”

“A little. I can do stuff around the house.”

“Then,” you pause, looking at his eyes. “Is there a chance I can get your number? You know, so if there’s any issue I can call you to come round and take a look,”

“Sure,” he smiles warmly at you. “I’m a little busy sometimes, though, so it might take me a few days to get around to stopping by.”

You nod and quickly undo the inner latch and open the door more fully. “That’s alright, I don’t expect you to drop your life because I can’t fix a leaking faucet. Can you wait here while I grab my phone?”

He nods, looking respectfully at only the foyer and not further into your new home, carefully avoiding focusing on the stacks of boxes you haven’t gotten to unpacking (full of knick-knacks and unimportant things that you decided could wait to be put on display).

It doesn’t take long to save each other’s contacts, and while there’s no more excuse for him to be on your stoop, you want to talk to him more. “Do you have anyone to eat dinner with?”

Subtle, your inner voice snarks back.

“No,” he smiles sadly, bitterness to it. “Just me.”

“Well, it’s just lasagna to reheat, but if you’d prefer to not eat alone…”

“I’d love that…?”

“__,” you smile. “Come on in, Aaron. I’ll get you a plate.”

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

Work goes well, getting adjusted is easy.

You make friends with your coworkers and a few regulars, go out a few times and find a group of girls you mesh with.

Then again, you were a pretty sociable person, always trying to smile and improve people’s days. It was partially why you didn’t absolutely hate service work. There was a silver lining to every interaction.

Aaron was nice, too.

You’d had an issue with water pressure when you finally (after much longer than you’d like to admit) got your new shower head attached, and he’d come over and let his dress shirt get soaked while he fixed it for you.

Whenever you ask about work, he dances around anything more than telling you “FBI” and that he “travels a lot”, but you didn’t mind too much. Everyone has their secrets, and you knew your dad had seen some terrible things.

You can only imagine what Aaron has seen.

He was good company, had a dry and witty humor that you never expected, kind eyes and a gentle smile you were lucky to see despite his tiredness, and, well, he was handsome.

You weren’t against eye candy, even if you didn’t know much personally about him. It took a week to learn how old he was, and a few days while was gone for work for you to reconcile that he was old enough to have worked with your father when he was at Narcotics.

It’s been two weeks since you’d last seen him, but he calls, voice exhausted and rough, raw, even, from what seems to have been an emotional case.

“Aaron?”

He hums, sighs on the other side of the line.

“Everything okay?”

“Just tired,” he doesn’t explain more. “Can you keep talking?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” you can’t help the way your brow furrows in concern about how worn-out he sounds. “Well, I can tell you about my job. I’m not nearly as secretive, Mr. FBI,” you tease, and he exhales — a softer, happier one.

And so you do, rambling about different coffees, trying desperately to coax him into trying a latte (he refuses every single time you try to tell him he’d like one, but assures you there’s someone on his team who has equal amounts of sugar and coffee in his — you’re sure he’s exaggerating, the sugar would be too much for almost anyone — who would love to try your drink combos); telling him about regulars and new customers, the music that played, if there’s a song you know he’d like; really, anything you can think of.

“When do you get back?”

“We’ve landed, I’m back.” There’s more shuffling than there had been on his end, papers sliding and the crackling connection as he moves the phone before bringing it back to his ear. “Just finishing some paperwork.”

“Is it stuff that can’t be seen?”

“No. It’s not confidential.”

“Do you want to do it at your house, then? Or visiting my place. I made pasta and steak, I can heat some back up for you. I’m sure you haven’t been eating well when you’re chasing down bad guys, or… whatever you do when you’re gone, I’m not sure exactly.”

Aaron chuckles. “Thanks, __. Give me thirty minutes?”

“Yeah. Do you want me to stay on the line?”

He hesitates.

“No. No, it’s okay. I’ll see you in a little while.”

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

He takes closer to forty-five minutes, but you expected something to take a bit longer than he said. And it’s not a bother. Really, it was welcome because it let you run out to the store and buy a nice wine (you hoped he likes red), and reheat the food better than just by the microwave.

When he knocks, you try not to scurry over too quickly and to temper your smile. “Come in,”

Aaron smiles tiredly at you, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He hangs up his suit jacket and loosens his tie slightly.

He looks at the table and his brows raise. “Wine?”

“I figured you could use something to unwind,”

“Sounds lovely.”

You can’t tell if he actually means that, or if he just doesn’t like red, doesn’t want wine, or what, and is being polite but you don’t push it.

“Are you going to eat, too?”

“I already did,” you smile at him. “I was going to do dishes so I don’t leave them in the sink overnight — I try to never do that. But it can wait if you’d rather have company.”

He moves his napkin. “Well, I’d be able to hear you from the kitchen. More efficient,”

“Got it,”

You hum to yourself in the lulls of conversation with him, scrubbing a plate clean. He eats quickly, when you’re not across from him, and you find this out when he comes in with his dishes.

“Let me wash them. My mess,”

“You’re a guest,” you protest, but you don’t do much to dissuade him, watching the way he rolls up his sleeves and his forearms flex with a lazy smile as he scrubs off the alfredo sauce. “At least leave your glass. We can drink and talk for a bit.”

He raises his brows but nods, pushing it to the side.

“Do you want to talk about work?” You ask him as you fill one for you and then top off his. “Or would you prefer anything else.”

“I’ve been talking about dead bodies and abductions for two weeks. I’d like something more normal,” Aaron answers smoothly before pausing, placing his plate in your dishrack. “I’ve never told you that I deal with that, have I?”

“No,” you hand him his wine and guide him to your couch. “But I can make a guess why you haven’t,”

“I’m sure you can.”

“My father, he was in Narcotics, actually.” You look for a flash of recognition in his eyes, but without saying your father’s name there is none. “Maybe he worked with you at some point. But he would always come home tense and it strained my parent’s relationship… I get it.”

Aaron swallows. You guess relationships are a sore spot.

“Wanna hear about the last time I went out?” You couldn’t think about a better topic, and grimace when he sighs and sinks back into the cushions. “Nothing gross,”

“Hit me.”

You tell him, excited, bubbly, and pause about two-thirds into recounting the drinking games and how you could barely walk by the end of it. Namely, because you want to leave out the fact you almost drunk-dialed him (and that you were super wasted in public, considering he’s a federal agent), and second, because you realize you could show him the dress you were wearing that night.

Maybe the wine is getting to you a little, but you buzz with excitement at the idea of him eyeing you up and down.

“Actually, I wanna show you something!” Your voice is too excited and you know it when he gives you a questioning look. “Wait here.”

You stumble a little changing out of your clothes and quickly zip yourself into the dress, clasp the same necklace back on. Your hair isn’t done the same, your makeup is your day makeup and not what you wear out, but you still look pretty.

Maybe a little less slutty than you did that night, but the way the dress clings to your curves would make up for it. Hopefully.

“Close your eyes!” You call out to him.

“What?” Aaron calls back, and you hear an exaggerated groan when you don’t reply. “Okay, they’re shut,”

You saunter out and lightly grab his wrist — he’s holding his hands to cover his sight completely, and your heart flutters at the boyishness — and tug them away. “What do you think?”

Aaron opens his eyes almost directly to your cleavage as you straighten up, and he snaps his attention to your face. That doesn’t last long as you spin and twirl, letting the light catch the glittery details.

He’s moved his eyes to your hips and how much of your thighs are exposed.

He clears his throat. “You wore this out when you were that drunk?”

“Don’t worry,” you smile. “I was safe!”

“You were telling me you could barely walk,”

You pout at him. “You’re so serious, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm.”

A beat of silence.

Another.

“Twirl for me again?”

You beam at him and obey, squeaking when he pauses you once you face away.

“It’s not fully zipped,” he lets his fingers trace above the zipper as he stands, and you feel him pressing closer to you — tall, imposing, strong. Warmth radiating off his skin. “Can I?”

You debate what to say.

“Actually,” you breathe in deeply, trying to keep your voice level. “I think I cinched the waist too tight at the clasps. Can you loosen them?”

Aaron’s breath ghosts over the nape of your neck, and he says nothing as he slowly unzips it, fingers sparking desire and tensing the muscles as his fingers trail down your spine after the zipper.

“Right here?” He asks, tugging at the cinch to make his point clear.

You smile and let the straps slip from your shoulders in a fake stretch. His breath hitches.

“A little lower,”

Aaron listens, entranced, undoing more and more until his fingers ghost right above your panties — a thong, maroon-y red.

You imagine he’s shut his eyes now, trying to respect you despite the way you’re clearly trying to get into his pants.

And so, you act.

You reach back and grasp the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him a little closer to the crook of your neck.

“__,” he whispers.

“Aaron,” you match the soft desire thrumming under the words. “Please.”

You know he’ll snap when you arch your back, pressing back into his hardening bulge and pushing your chest out — right into his line of sight.

He kisses the skin of your neck gently, sucking on it harshly before running his tongue over the stinging sensation. He guides the dress down you fully, strong hands squeezing the fat on your thighs with a groan before slipping up and around your waist to cup your breasts.

“You’re beautiful,”

“Please don’t waste time on easing into it,” you grit out, aching for him. “I want you. Badly.”

“Shh,” he soothes, unclasping your necklace and placing it on the small stand by your couch, kissing where the cold metal had sat. “You’ll get me,”

You whimper out in surprise as he spins you and crashes his lips into yours forcefully, pressing you into him so your nipples brush against his ironed and perfect dress shirt, a perfect, aching friction.

A confident hand goes to your thong and snaps the waistband against your hip as you press further into him, blindly pawing at his pants.

“Walk me to your bedroom,” he tells you when he pulls back for air, and you stumble into the wall twice, too wrapped up in his kisses and heat to move with grace.

He lays you down, but before he can pull back and stand, you pull him next to you.

“Let me,” you say, tugging his tie loose and nimbly undoing his buttons with only a slight tremor to your hands. The button-up falls open to beautiful strength and skin, dotted with freckles and rippling with strength as he shrugs the fabric off and flings it to the floor.

When you start on his belt, his eyes bore into you and you shrink under the gaze once you tug it loose.

“Sit back,” he nods towards the headboard. “Now.”

You swallow and scramble to move where he wants. He strips down to his boxers and shifts to move over you, bracing on his knees and a forearm. He pecks your lips with a smile before deepening the kiss.

He leaves you gasping for air by the time he moves to lick over your nipples as his calloused fingers find their way into your panties. You quiver at the roughness on your clit, the way the fabric of the thong slips against you with his movements.

He pulls off you, and your eyes hungrily drink in his deep breaths and the filthy sight of his fingers moving in your underwear, back arching as he slips one finger into you and continues to roll your clit with his thumb.

“More?” He asks when your hips grind down to meet him.

“Want it,” you gasp out, squeezing him over his boxers. The precum that’s leaked through makes you keen with need. “‘M ready.”

“I’d rather you not get hurt,” he pushes in another finger. “So be patient.”

You huff, fucking up against his hand.

He pulls back and pins you with that same hand, smearing your arousal over your hip. “You can’t wait?”

“Maybe I like it with a little pain.”

He raises a brow at that and sighs, but he lets go of you to pull down and kick off his boxers.

Your mouth dries at the sight of his cock, and you ache, so desperately empty. You grab at his shoulders, broad and strong, and he can’t help the twitch of a smile as he rubs himself against you and you squirm.

You kiss him as you hook your leg around him and drag him into you, delighting in the gasp of pleasure he lets out against your lips. His jaw sets, teeth grinding as he sets a torturously slow pace, letting you feel the drag of every vein and inch against your velvety walls.

You dig your nails into his back and scratch, and his hips stutter before finally speeding up. It’s still not enough, but finally forceful enough to draw sounds from your lips.

“You like a little pain too,” you laugh breathlessly, trying to leave a bite on his neck. He cranes back and out of reach, folding your legs up to drive deeper.

“I can take it. Can you?” Aaron asks, no expectation of an answer as he finally sets a pace that drives you to near silent gasps and shaking muscles.

You whimper, digging your nails in more harshly to feel the way his shoulders flex as he moves one of his hands to rub your clit. His skin and his movements are rough and aggressive, punching moans out of you without care, sitting your nerves on fire.

He doesn’t relent, leaving wet kisses along your sweat slick skin as he fucks into you so hard you quiver in his hold, small and weak and helpless under him.

You moan at the idea, arching up into him as he scrapes his teeth over your left breast.

“More,” you beg breathlessly. “I can take it all,”

His brow furrows in delicious determination over darkened, blown-out eyes, lips tightening to hold in his gruff moans as he drags you closer to your ecstasy.

“Yeah?” He asks, bringing a hand to squeeze your cheeks together. “Want it all?”

You nod eagerly, urge him down for another kiss, and you clench when he sucks on your tongue before pulling back and completely away.

“Hands and knees.”

You flip hurriedly, trying to hide the way your muscles shake from the effort. He catches it, though, wraps an arm under and around your waist to help support you as he drapes himself over your back and slides back in.

It’s almost claustrophobic, so warm and close to him, skin slick with sweat, heavy breaths coming out in humid pants, wet presses of his lips and tongue to your shoulders and the nape of your neck; but you love it, whining and keening as he angles his hips just right and rubs your clit again.

You’re so, so, so close to the edge, you can almost taste it.

“Let go,” he orders, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own sounds.

And you do, quivering around him, pussy desperately trying to keep him in place as he fucks you through it.

He hisses, and you whine at the empty feeling, rolling over to see him leaning back and jerking himself off, head tossed back and veins popping out.

You crawl over and grin up at him “fuck my mouth” before taking him in, and he hisses, fingers tightening in your hair.

“Shit, __,” he groans, and you realize it’s the first time he’s said your name or lost composure during this. You hum in response and bob your head further down before hollowing your cheeks.

His hips jerk, but before he can apologize for the movement, you moan around him and press lower.

Aaron groans, deep and broken with need, and it only takes a few more seconds for him to cum, thighs twitching under your palms.

He tugs you off and kisses you after you swallow, tasting himself on your tongue.

“Let me clean you up,” he whispers after a few moments, observing how you’re still shaking from the aftershocks.

He leaves and comes back with a washcloth, wiping you clean and apologizing softly when you wince from oversensitivity.

Aaron even helps you get dressed (finds pajamas in a drawer for you and hands them to you) and makes sure you pee and brush your teeth.

When he starts gathering his things, you grab him. “Stay.”

He pauses and sighs, shirt bundled in his hand. He slips back into his boxers and slides under the duvet next to you.

“I’ll stay.”

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

When you wake up, Aaron is gone.

No note. No voicemail.

It stings. He’d even cleaned up the wine glasses and brought your necklace onto your nightstand.

When you stand, it aches, muscles exhausted. You shower slowly and pensively, chewing on your lip as you consider calling him.

You don’t.

You fix yourself coffee, eat some fruit and pancakes, and get ready for work. It’d be a long day standing and delivering orders with the way your muscles burned, but maybe it’d distract you.

You don’t even hear from him again for a week, and part of you is mad at him, but most of you is scared — you’d figured out that he deals with homicides and abductions that night, and there was a worry that took root and grew that he could be dead, and you wouldn’t know.

When you hear from him, it’s one a.m. on a Friday (Saturday, you suppose, since it’s past night).

“Hello?” You ask groggily, not having checked the caller I.D.

“__,” Aaron sighs out. He sounds relieved.

You tense. “Aaron.”

There’s awkward silence.

“Why are you calling?”

“I hadn’t heard from you all week,” he tells you, and your heart twists in your chest.

Who did he think he was, to sleep with you, leave without warning, and call like nothing happened?

“I wonder why,” you snap, voice bitter and biting.

Aaron sighs and shuffles.

More uncomfortable silence.

“Where did you go?”

“Home. I had to get dressed for work.”

You hope none of his team is around. You’re already upset enough just talking to him, and that’s without a team of whatever-the-fuck he does FBI agents listening in.

“No message?”

“Should I have left one?” Aaron sighs, and you can practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re not dating, __.”

“Yeah. I can tell.” You scoff. “Then why do you care that I didn't call you?”

“I like your company, you know that.”

“You do a hell of a job making it clear.”

Eyes burning with tears you’re holding back, you finally ask.

“What do you want, Aaron?”

“To talk.”

“No,” you grouse, wiping the tear that rolls down your cheek.

“__, please, come on.”

“Come on?” You repeat, incredulous. “Aaron, I like you. You used me for sex and left. I’m fucking pissed at you,”

“You’re too young for me.” Aaron sighs. “I’m always at work. It’s dangerous work, too. You could have any guy,”

“Yeah. A shame I want you. And my age didn’t seem to matter last week. If you don’t want to date me, just say it!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That I want to see you.”

“No. Please… stop calling me,”

You hope he doesn’t hear the choked sob that leaves your lips as you hang up.

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

You ignore him for two weeks pretty well, pretending to be gone or asleep every time he rings the doorbell, tossing out his sad attempts at cookies (even if you feel like crying knowing he can’t make cookies or bake for shit and is doing it just for you), letting the flowers he placed die on your stoop.

The first time you hear about him again — he hadn’t left messages in a few days — is actually at work.

A younger man, about your age, boyishly cute and nothing like who you wanted, comes in and smiles at you.

“Hey, do you have any like… special drinks?” He’s stuttering. “My friend—boss?— recommended this place, said you had lattes I might like.”

The gears turn a little.

(There’s someone on my team who would drink it.

I want you to try it, Aaron.

I don’t do sugar in my coffee, __. But he does, I swear it’s more sugar than coffee sometimes. I’ll let him know the name of your café.

Should I be expecting him?

Yeah, maybe. His name’s Spencer. He’s a good kid.)

“Boss?”

“Yeah! We work together, but we’re also friends, but he could fire me, so I never know how to introduce him.”

You giggle slightly. “Um, well, we have a seasonal drink.”

You rattle off the options and ingredients, and when he finally decides on his order, he blinks at you a few times.

“You know, your name is familiar. __.” He’s trying to place it.

With a smile, you glance at him. “What’d you say yours was? For the order.”

“Spencer.”

Bingo.

You write it on the cup and look to see if there’s a line. There isn’t. You hand the cup to the other barista working with the order ticket.

“Where’d you say you worked, Spencer?”

“I didn’t. But I work at the FBI in the BAU—that’s the behavioral analysis unit. We do something called profiling to catch unsubs, unknown subjects, who commit a variety of different crimes.”

You nod.

Profiler.

You’d think someone who knows the human condition and behavior so well would know not to leave a girl without a goodbye when you slept together the night before.

“Your boss, his name Aaron?”

“Hotch.” Spencer supplies automatically before his ears catch up. “Wait, yeah. Aaron Hotchner. You know him?”

You smile tightly, not sure what he’s shared with his team. With the BAU. “We’re neighbors.”

Spencer grins. “You should come in and surprise him! He’s been bothered by something lately, but he won’t tell any of us why. Maybe he’ll tell you.”

You tense. “You all sound like a nosy bunch, Spencer,” you hope your voice comes across light and playful enough. You thank your coworker for his coffee and say “I’m also on shift. Here’s your coffee. Have a good day.”

He smiles and says “you too!” and turns around. He almost bumps into someone immediately and you hear a rush of apologies as he looks at his watch and hurries out of the café.

You sigh.

All day, what Spencer said runs through your mind. Had he really been struggling? He had to be, assuming Spencer didn’t know you… and if Aaron is as private as you think he is, Spencer definitely doesn’t know you.

When you get home, Aaron is waiting on your doorstep, and it takes everything in you to not turn around and get right back in your car, drive somewhere for dinner.

“__,” his voice is pleading, broken and soft.

“Aaron, please,” you sigh. “I’m tired of the excuses.”

“I know. I know. Let’s talk. Actually.”

You huff.

“... I’ll talk. You listen. I’m the one who has apologizing to do,”

“First right thing you’ve said in a while,” you mumble bitterly, brushing past him to unlock your door. “Come on.”

He follows you slowly, and one glance at his face fills you with guilt. He looks like a kicked puppy.

Damn him and his pretty brown eyes.

You settle on the couch with wine. “Go on,”

Aaron swallows. “I… got a call. A work call. At three. After we slept together, I needed to run to grab all my things, get new clothes…

It was a brutal case. The… the guy — we caught him — was killing girls who looked like you. And, selfishly, I thought, maybe if I just ignored you I wouldn’t be worried. And that you’d be okay, that it didn’t matter to you like it mattered to me.

But I kept seeing him kill you in my nightmares, and I knew I needed to focus on work before he killed another innocent woman. That if I called you, I’d break down and be a burden on the team and the case.

And I know that’s not good enough, I should’ve left a message or called anyway.

I do like you. And your age is part of me not calling, I just don’t know if it’s right. For me to want you.”

He pauses and stares into your eyes before looking to the ground. “I don’t care if it’s right anymore. I do want you. When I close my eyes before bed, I see your smile, I think of you, and I just,” he digs his nails into his thighs, exhales heavily. “I want you so fucking bad,”

You swallow. “Care to show me?”

“Not tonight.” Aaron sighs. “I don’t want… I don’t want it to seem like I just want your body.”

“Even if I say it’s okay?”

“Even then,” he leans over and kisses you.

Sweetly. Romantic, even.

“Let me make it up to you. What do you say about dinner tomorrow?” He rubs his thumb over your cheek. “Let me show you that I want you,”

“Sounds good, Hotchner.”

His brows shoot up. “How do you know my last name?”

“Well, I met this guy,” you say teasingly. “His name’s Spencer. Ring a bell?”

Aaron curses. “Did he say anything?”

“Just that you seemed down. He didn’t know anything, I just said you were my neighbor. Why, did you miss me? That why you were so miserable?”

“Yeah.” It’s the most confident he’s sounded all night. “Going forward…” he pauses. “Just slap me if I’m being an ass. I thought I was going crazy not being able to see you.”

#my works #mdni #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst

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illustromic · 1 year

Text

My thoughts on drawing wings (an unofficial tutorial)

Do you want to get better at drawing your favorite winged character? Do you have winged OCs? Just want to learn something new? I can't promise this post will help, but maybe it'll give you some helpful tips.

I know, I knowww, wing tutorials have been done to death. I don't care. This was initially inspired by a conversation on twitter, but actually I've wanted to write down my notes on the topic for a long time lol. Basically wings are one of my special interests so it's very important, for me, to draw them both nicely and also realistically.

On that note, let me first show you my resume *distant sound of floodgates opening*

Like what you see? Read on! (Oh, and I will only be covering feathered/avian wings bc those are the type I know best.)

Now, I'm not here to give you a step-by-step guide on wing anatomy and aerodynamics, because there are plenty of other resources that cover this already, and I'll list my faves at the end of the post. Right now, I'm going to give you some easy guidelines and tricks that I wish more artists knew.

1: Wings do, in fact, have bones (crazy, I know) and are actually very rigid because they have to support the weight of a living creature. There are some positions you cannot physically force a wing into irl.

2: Flight feathers are not placed willy-nilly on the wing, because then they wouldn't catch the air properly. Again, like the bones, they are rigid and strong, so don't draw them like fur or ribbons. All wings have the same pattern of feather placement, with slight variation depending on species. If you learn the feather sections, it will automatically improve your drawings a lot.

2.5: Feathers overlap each other like a handful of playing cards, and this looks different depending on which side of the wing you're drawing. They always do this unless they're extremely untidy.

3: The size of the wingspan is important if you're going for a more realistic design. There is no "scientifically accurate" measurement when it comes to fictional creatures, but my general rule is when in doubt, you probably need to make them bigger. Personally, for my original winged human species, I give them wings that can be up to 12 feet long each (the artistic sacrifice is that it's really hard to fit the wings on the dang page lmao, so make your own call).

4: Get used to drawing folded wings. Most of the time, birds keep their wings folded because it prevents them from getting damaged and it conserves energy. The trick is to get good at visualizing how the joints bend and overlap (look at plenty of photos!) In general, they can fold much tighter than you think.

5: Wings and feathers take a lot of patience to draw, but the results are worth it. I've seen so so many incredibly beautiful and skillful artworks that are---well, maybe not ruined, but still negatively affected by a pair of wings that look like an afterthought, or not even like wings at all. You have no idea how much a little extra time and practice will add to your work until you see for yourself.

Finally, some notes on "stylized" wings: Of course it's perfectly ok to draw more simplified/cartoony wings if that's your preference!! BUT there is a difference between a stylistic choice and a lack of effort/poor understanding of the subject matter. Even cartoonists have to learn the fundamentals of realism so they know how to make their designs logical and appealing. Here are some examples of more stylized wings that I feel retain the core principles of anatomy/aesthetics:

And last but not least: A list of helpful links I use personally for reference and inspiration!

I made this pinterest board for general artsy inspo, and this board to curate my very favorite tutorials/refs/information, focusing on the scientific aspect of wings and flight in general. Feel free to use both! (I also suggest pinterest in general for pose refs and such, but try to only practice using photos at first and not other drawings.)

I highly recommend this blog and this blog if you want examples of artists who draw more realism-based winged creatures!! They are both huge inspirations for me and I think you should totally follow them even if you don't plan to draw wings lol <3

If you're REALLY serious about it, my favorite ref books are: Winged Fantasy, a lovely drawing book by Brenda Lyons; Proctor & Lynch's Manual of Ornithology; and Angelus vincens by R. Spano, which is essentially an artbook by someone who (I believe) designed biologically plausible "angels" for their senior thesis.

Ok, idk how to end this lol but I hope it helped! I know it's not my normal kind of post but I'm super busy with college stuff rn and this was all I had time for. If you guys have any questions or feedback, please let me know!!!

-Aloe <3

#my art #wings #drawing #tutorial #the way I could've talked for so much longer haha #but it's 3 am for me and I am fading fast so GOODNIGHT

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saey707 · 6 months

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Omg I've been checking your account, like, everyday to see if you're alive. Hope everything is ok‼️

But you being back AND opening requests for Heartsteel?! Omg. Any thoughts for sub!Hearsteel!Kayn? I literally live for Kayn content. Take care <3

✿ Prompt: Submissive Heartsteel Kayn Headcanons ✿

♡ champion focus: kayn ♡ tw: nsfw ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author’s Note: Hi I'm totally normal about Kayn ahahaha... (•ﻌ•) But, hey anon, thanks for always stopping in to check in on me! Life has been crazy on my end, but I'll give that kinda update soon in a separate post. For now let's focus on our little menace Kayn! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ The NSFW content will be below the "Keep Reading" mark. Enjoy! ✩ ♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You would be the balancing factor to his chaos in your relationship: Always keeping him within safe boundaries under the careful scrutiny of the public eye but still giving him enough room to just be a stupid, carefree guy who flies off the handle at the right moments! Still, even if you wanted to control him, you couldn't.

Kayn has a will of his own and does whatever he wants! But, if you are in the back of his mind, urging for him to do the right thing, then maybe, just maybe, he can make the tough decision to not be a complete asshole to the paparazzi.

"It's not my fault! I'm too hot for my pictures to be sold to the public. For free at that?!"

Kayn would be a bratty sub. He talks back and resists self-restraint. He pushes your buttons and knows all the right moves to get under your skin, even in good fun!

The brash, hot-pink-headed rockstar does just about anything to get the attention of everyone around him. But with you? You're definitely a unique case. When it comes to you, he shies away from his usual idiocy and tries to do more to impress you (newsflash: He is still a careless idiot).

Kayn is undoubtedly a needy boyfriend, so expect a lot of physical intimacy and extreme, risk-taking measures to get attention!

And if you're not on the road with him during the touring season? You better text back within 5 minutes!! ...Why aren't you texting him back?!

"Look at this picture of me standing on a motorcycle!!" "Babe?" "Babe??" "Babe" ". . ." "Please respond" "Are you sleeping?" "Wake up!!!!!!!"

VAIN VAIN VAIN- Kayn relishes compliments and likes to be reminded of how talented and good-looking he is! He knows he's hot shit, but boy oh boy does he love to hear it from you!

As much as the little menace wants to believe he is the dominant one in your relationship with all the control, power, and prestige, Kayn gets super blushy and weak whenever you are gentle with him and publicly display your affection. How is he supposed to come off as big and bad when you make him feel this submissive and pathetic?!

Sometimes Kayn just needs those little moments to mellow out and have someone take care of him, especially when met with the pressures that come with being a part of a global phenomenon!

Loves cuddling into your chest and having his hair pet! Just be careful or he might start to nip and bite!

If there is one thing Kayn loves more than committing crimes, it's knowing you will always be by his side, no matter the ups and downs in his career... And the scared look on your face whenever he takes the wheel on the road~

A LOUD moaner! He has no shame in allowing everyone to hear him whoring himself out for you!

During sex, Kayn loses control and lets you dominate him.

He wants you to be rough with him. Push him down to his knees and make him beg for you... Scratch into his skin when you're pounding into him and slamming yourself down onto him... Shout your praises and call him yours!

It's as if he loses all mental faculties and becomes nothing more than a fucktoy when it comes to you topping him- nothing more than someone you can pleasure yourself with.

And he definitely doesn't have any shame when it comes to letting you take him in public places~ So what if it's a crime? So what if someone walks in or catches you two? That makes it all the more heart-pounding... All the more exciting to him!

Still, if you don't want to risk jail time, don't let that stop you from stuffing a towel into his mouth, tongue, or fingers~ Kayn loves it whenever his mouth is full anyways.

At times, Kayn can be cooperative, but most of the time he will make you work for it!

Put him on a leash. Just do it.

#saeybaewrites #request #headcanons #heartsteel #heartsteel kayn #kayn #heartsteel x reader #heartsteel kayn x reader #kayn shieda #shieda kayn #kayn lol #kayn league of legends x reader #kayn lol x reader #kayn league of legends #x reader #kayn shieda x reader #shieda kayn x reader #lol x reader #league of legends x reader

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greenunoreversecard · 2 months

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HEYYEYHEY CAN I REQUEST LLOYD (ninjago) HEADCANONS PLEASEEEE (ty :3)

A/N: Ofc!I'll do general character ones, as well as x reader ones :) hope ye likey likey:pp

Lloyd, The Greenest and Geekest mf.

General character headcanons:

Half Japanese half Chinese

His hair is box blonde dye and you cannot change my mind.

Left handed

Severely dyslexic and hands off all scroll reading and just reading oriented tasks to kai.

Def gen z vibes. Like, the others give off more inbetween z and millenial, so they dont always get his humor. And sometimes he uses that to his advantage and "Speaks in code" (uses as much slang as possible)

Has LED lights in his room set to forest green.

Has given himself a smiley face tattoo.

Cried over a dead goose once.

OK, just to preface i see cole as a stoner of Sorts and uses the excuse "it gets me closer to my element"

With that in mind cole let lloyd try it and now sometimes when he is told to unwind, of feels like he needs to take a chill pill he and Cole spark up

in the beginning of his leader ship role, he used to Say;"kick ass and take names" and if things went wrong he had the fuck it we ball mindset, but got better with time. There are still times they wing it, though.

if he isnt in his gi he almost exclusively wears his pajamas (aka a Hoodie, tshirt and sweats)

Vv tired, and now has a raging addiction to energy drinks due to his lack of Sleep.

He used to eat worms as a kid bc he Thought he it was evil.

Has a eyebrow piercing, and wants a tongue piercing.

Wears "reading" glasses, that he should technically wear all the time because he can't see up close and has a astigmatism,, but he says yolo. Zane then make him contacts after he almost ran into a moving blade and got his head severed.

Adhd and OCD, as well as the normal line up (anxiety, depression, cptsd)

Lloyd in a relationship:

Hes very distant in the beginning, it'll take time to warm up to you.

He tends to be orage cat vibes.

On the cat trend, he gets close for a bit Before becoming distant. Going through waves of affection, kinda.

He hasn't had like, any good relationships in his life so he tries to "protect" himself when he feels he gets to close to you, and so he pulls away.

He does the fuckboy face when your sad bc it makes you laugh, as well as That weird dice roll

He actually does the face/dice roll combo whenever he Sees you as he walks over, it's an inside joke now

primary giving love language: acts of service and quality time

Primary receiving love language: gifts and words of affirmation. But physical touch is also high up there.

Also, not expensive gifts. He hates those. Give him a stick you saw on a walk that made you think of him. He'll cherish it forever. And maybe cry.

He will cry.

will make noises at you and expects a noise in response or he'll be sad.

Also randomly bites you. He's a nommer

also sends you memes throughout the day.

As well as random pictures with the caption;"BABY LOK THIS IS S. US IF WE WHERE *insert whatever item here*

Called you babe, baby, love, shitface, asshole.

Expect kind and loving gentle bullying.

Doesnt know how to express his emotions to just expect him to come up to you, lightly shake your shoulders and aggressively say;"I love you bitch.i ain't Evea gon stop lovin you. Bitchhhhhhh" (vine reference)

Sends you .5 of everyone, himself included. He's addicted to Taking them. You will not get out of it.

Also sometimes just walks around in nyas stilettos for fun.

You two have fashion shows.

You also take over the Living room sometimes and build giant ass forts to watch shitty reality tv in and make fun oF The people

Overall, once he realizes you won't leave he's the most funniest loving chaotic guy.

But expect it to take a hot minute for him to realsie this

give him time,, but also have some deep talks..

Let him vent

and for the love of God don't hurt the baby's heart.

Expect inside jokes

#no beta we die like jason todd #greeny's inbox #Ninjago x reader #lloyd garmadon #lloyd montgomery garmadon #lego ninjago #Lloyd garmadon x reader #Ninjago x you #Male reader #gn reader #ninjago lloyd

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oceantornadoo · 8 days

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hii! can you do what it would be like asking price to put pads on the shopping list?? and then when price goes shopping he has to call you to ask for what size ?? 😭😭 btw i love love your work, hope u had a good day💞.

im pretty sure you're referring to this post but i decided to make this price x reader so :) enjoy!

bsf marriage pact!price x reader, he's slightly creepy but he's sweet (this is actually a bit dubcon but its in good spirit)

you had had a shit day. actually, make that a shit week. emotional the whole time, feeling lonely, depressed, and with the weirdest cravings. right when you were about to call your best friend and rant about how terrible you felt, you had went to the bathroom and- oh.

that explains a lot.

and now here you were, sitting on the toilet for the past ten minutes, contemplating. you were completely out of all period products and your flow was so heavy there was no way you were making it to the store free bleeding or with toilet paper as a makeshift pad. of course, that's when john decided to call you (let's be real, who doesn't take their phone to the bathroom. don't judge.)

"evenin', duckie."

"ugh john, i told you not to call me that. its so annoying."

john grunted a chuckle into the phone, swiping a hand over his beard. "you love it." silence. he could practically hear your eye roll. "dinner tonight?" he was pacing his apartment, uncharacteristic for a man like him. calm, cool, collected. never when it came to you.

"can't, sorry. maybe in a few days." he grunted. "could order a takeaway?" you sighed in his ear, the sound a melody he craved to hear over and over again. on lazy saturdays and in-between small fights over laundry. baby steps, though.

"its just not in the cards tonight, john, i'm sorry." you were never like this, withholding information. even when you cancelled on him, it was with a long-winded explanation with the names of about seven people he didn't know and plans you didn't want to go to. "'s wrong, duck? got a hot date or somethin'?" he mentally crossed his fingers, not allowing a physical expression. he wasn't that whipped. not yet.

"no, im just sick. and tired." his muscles relaxed. he started putting on his boots and grabbed a fleece, something gaz insisted was not too tryhard for someone like him. "i'll run to the store and grab ya medicine, hm? what'dya need?" you sighed again, rubbing your fingers to your forehead. he obviously was not giving this up and you did really need pads...

"ill text you a list when you get there. thanks john."

"anythin' for you, duckie."

list: pads, advil, that one chocolate candy you know i like, something for dinner

shit. price had been with a woman or two, but had never had to buy her pads. of course, he'd never let it get to that stage, not when he had you to take care of. but now here he was, staring at playtex and always and what the fuck was a diva cup? he'd better call you.

"all ok, john?"

"ya didn't give me a color on your pads, duck." you giggled. of course he paid attention to the green versus orange pads.

"its pretty heavy so some of the overnight and extra daytime ones would work." silence.

"...there's numbers." your cheeks warmed. you couldn't believe you were talking about this with john of all people.

"god, john. this feels so embarrassing. so weird to talk about with you."

"why? gotta know this for the rest of my life, duckie." shit. he was referring to that night a couple weeks ago, when you confessed to him you thought you'd never find love. when he said he'd marry you in a heartbeat, just say the word. when you compromised by telling him if you were still single in two years, you'd go to the courthouse then and there. when you didn't see him turn and write the date in phone, just as a reminder.

"5, john. there should be a moon symbol or something. and then 3. should be green, i think?" he grunted an affirmation, putting the respective pads in his cart. he turned around, having said goodbye and ended the call, and was subsequently greeted by three women, staring. paused in their product selection, staring openmouthed at how nonchalant he was about buying pads.

30 minutes later he was at your place, groceries and takeaway in hand as he used his spare key to let himself in. "duck?" all quiet. he stalked through your place and noticed the light on in the bathroom. one, two, three quick knocks. "john?" "'s me. can i come in?" "no i- need you to get me something." he waited patiently. "can you go to my dresser and grab a pair of underwear. something ugly, lots of coverage." who was he to say no to a free invite to your underwear drawer?

john dropped the pads outside your bathroom door and headed to your bedroom. finding your dresser, he had to give himself a second. calm down, old man. they're all clean.

that didn't stop him from sniffing a few, reveling at the scent of your laundry detergent. he almost groaned at the scent, imagining you in them. even in the "unsexy" pairs, your curves clothed in cotton and elastic, wrapped up in a lovely package. all his.

john selected a pair with "lots of coverage", whatever that meant, and headed to your bathroom. he opened the door with ease, setting your pads down on the counter. you shrieked.

"john! im half naked, you need to knock." obviously, the sight of your bare thighs and the top of your mound peaking out was most welcome, but he was more concerned about getting you off the toilet and putting food in your belly. "jus' me, duckie. come on, show me how to do it." he gestured at the pads. he couldn't be serious.

you slowly unboxed them, taking care to cover your naked body as much as possible. even while moving slowly, your shirt still shifted and he caught glimpses of your pretty pussy. an image for another day, when you weren't in pain. he focused on your fingers, deftly putting the pad on your underwear with years of practice. he memorized how you placed the pad, ensuring it stuck to your underwear before tearing the paper off the wings and tucking them on the other side. you looked up at him and he nodded, mission complete. "thank you, by the way." he kissed your forehead, so quick you could have missed it in a blink.

"turn around, i have to put it on." he sat back on his haunches, staring. "go'on. 've gotta learn somehow." you were too tired to care, ready to devour your dinner. you missed his hungry gaze as you revealed your cunt to him, wanting even though it was covered in blood. you missed his fingers twitching as you slowly pulled on your underwear, fabric caressing your skin like he yearned to. you got up, flushed, and washed your hands, missing how he tucked his fingers in belt loops and leaned back into the wall, a move he'd done many times in his tac vest.

"thank you, john. truly." he gave you a grin under the muttonchops, all satisfied. task finished, mission accomplished. you had asked him to do this, a husbandly duty. after you dried your hands, you made a move for the door, but he stopped you with a hand to the jaw. he brushed his beard against you, feeling the shiver in your bones. his mouth hovered near your ear, accent coming out low and sultry. "anythin' for my future wife, duckie."

ngl this got a bit weird but i like it??? had to struggle to not lean into my simon riley weirdness tendencies as im still learning john as a character.

#john price #price #cod price #captain john price #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #captain price #price imagine #price headcanons #price one shot #john price x you #captain johnathan price #john price x y/n #tornadothoughts

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talaok · 11 months

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hi bestie, hope you’re doing good <3 can i request something please? hear me out on this one aaaa

pedro and actress!reader are co-stars and there’s a pool table around one of their sets, she mentioned that she doesn’t know how to play pool and he gladly makes it his mission to teach her how to play pool and she’s frustrated because he smells so good and he keeps whispering praises into her ear while he has her bent over the table LWIDJFNRNRMD and then they end up fucking back in her room hehe

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

Summary: a hot pool lesson with Pedro

Warnings: a bunch of shameless flirting, tension, dirty talk, and an obscene amount of pet-names, but no smut bc for some reason I've found I don't want to write smut for Pedro

a/n: girl...that's so fucking hot

"what!?"

you laughed softly "I'm sorry alright, I've just never played!"

"not even once?"

"nope"

"what do you do when you go to a bar?"

"I drink?"

He huffs a laugh "that's unbelievable"

"Maybe it's more a thing of your generation..." you teased, cocking a brow.

"oh yeah? You're saying I know how to play pool just 'cause I'm old, sweetheart?"

You bit down a grin "I didn't say anything, it was all you"

"mh-mh" he hummed amusedly, taking a step to get in front of you.

His broad figure towered over you completely.

"Well I won't have any of that, a pretty lady like you needs to know how to play"

"is that right?" you smiled

"Absolutely" he nodded, a smug smirk tugging at his lips "and you're in luck... I happen to be a very good teacher"

You laughed softy "I would have betted you were. You have a lot of expertise?" you said, fully aware of the suggestive undertone of your words.

He bit his lower lip, his eyes boring into yours "I sure do, sugar"

You had played with fire and now your cheeks regretted it, as a pink tint flowed to them.

"so what do you say we get a drink somewhere and I teach you a thing or two when we're done here?"

"I'd like that" you nodded a shy smile on your lips.

"It's decided then" he winked, as someone called for him " you better start getting your face game on sweetheart"

__ __ __

With a quick call, you found out the bar just in front of your hotel had a pool table, so as you had decided, once you had both finished for the day, at around six, you made your way there.

You felt a slight buzz of anxiety the whole day. This wasn't the first time you hung out alone, and it's not like you didn't like it, or him, hell, that was probably the problem, you liked this idea a bit too much, and were concerned with the possible consequences of what precisely that excitement could have brought.

But still, as you sipped on your wine, watching him set up all you needed to play, you had never felt so at ease.

He was always able to do that, just his presence soothed you.

"Alright," he said, standing up after having racked up the balls with a triangle thingy "We're set up," he said, handing you your stick.

"alright then professor, how does this work?" you asked playfully, causing him to grin.

"ok so first of all one of us has to break"

you frowned, confused "as in..."

"right" he smiled "The break it's the first shot, if you make a ball into a pocket, you claim that type for the rest of the game"

"ok" you nodded, feigning confidence. You already knew you were gonna be shit at this.

"You wanna try to break?" he asked,

"Uhm, sure, but I think first you gotta tell me how to use this thing" you laughed softly, eyeing the wooden stick in your hand.

"Ok, first of all, that thing is called a cue," he said "and don't worry I'll guide you through it, sugar" he reassured you.

"Alright," you spoke softly "so what do I do?"

"ok, so first of all you bend over the table," he said, and you couldn't help but laugh a little.

"you're not even gonna buy me dinner first?" you joked, doing what he had instructed.

You heard the warm sound of his deep chuckle behind you "You have a dirty mind sweetheart" he shook his head, coming to stand behind you as you bent over.

"ok, now try to aim for the center of the triangle with your cue"

"you tried but you quickly came to a realization "Pedro I have no idea how to hold this" You smiled

"that's not so bad" he spoke, eyeing your grip, "but here," he said, one of his hands guiding your fingers around the stick "that's better, you have to hold on to it tightly ok?" he said, and you nodded "while for this hand..." he trailed off, taking your left hand in his and positioning it how you were supposed to on the table "you have to hold it like this so that you can aim " he murmured.

His whole body was pressed against yours, his scent was intoxicating if not poisoning, and you could feel the warmth of his body as it followed the shape of yours.

Your heart started beating faster, and you had to bite your lip

“Try making a shot” he murmured again

“O-ok” you stuttered, mainly focusing on not moving any part of your body because that would have meant doing so against his.

You tried taking a shot, and as you could have probably predicted, failed miserably.

The ball didn’t even graze the other ones.

You laughed softly “shit”

He chuckled, the soft vibrations of his voice traveling straight to your ear “Don’t beat yourself up, it's your first time after all” he spoke, retrieving the ball before getting back to his previous position, his body and arms stretched out to guide yours.

God, was he distracting.

"ok now try again" he whispered gently, his hands leaving yours temporarily to move some hair out of your face. You blushed as your breathing quickened "You can do it sugar, try taking a deep breath"

That's easier said than done.

You tried nonetheless, attempting to clear your mind and trying again.

"that's it," Pedro smiled "That's a good girl"

fuckshitfuck

As embarrassing as it sounds, you could feel your panties grow wetter.

But I mean, did he have to whisper that into your ear? Not that you were complaining it's just... you weren't much of a fan of having all the oxygen taken out of your body with just two words.

He must have noticed something was wrong because he asked "You ok, sweetheart?"

"y-yeah, sorry" you smiled your tension away "So what happens now?"

he leaned up and took a step away from you, retrieving his own cue.

"now since you claimed the stripes balls," he said, taking the one you had made into a pocket out "I'm gonna play to make the other ones"

"ok" You nodded, "show me how it's done then, professor"

He analyzed the table before positioning himself to make a shot.

He glanced at you as he was in position "Ready?" he asked

"oh I'm ready" you teased.

He made the shot and made two balls like it was nothing.

"show-off" you joked, your lips pulling into a smile "So what now? You go again?"

He raised himself, his eyes locked on yours "Usually yes, but I want to help you out here, so why don't you go again?"

"fine, but not because I need your help" you clarified, deciding on what ball to aim to and bending down in position.

"you're already better" he spoke, his voice suddenly deeper as he got behind you once again, this time his hands finding your waist.

You had to hold your breath.

"c'mon, sweetheart, show me what you've learned"

"is my grip right?" you asked, half (actually fully) hoping he would get closer to you.

"let's see" he granted your wish, bending down to you "That's really good sugar, you're a natural"

"you're just saying that" you chuckled

"no, you're real good at this," he said "Now try again, c'mon"

You set your fingers how he'd taught you and were rewarded with a sultry "That's it, sweetheart, that's perfect"

His breath was fanning over your neck but you somehow managed to make the shot.

"atta girl, if you keep going like that you might just beat me"

"might?" you forced yourself to act as if you weren't about to combust "I don't think there's any doubt I'm gonna do that"

He chuckled, his thumbs absentmindedly stroking your sides "You keep dreaming" he mocked "Now let's see if you can do that again" he challenged.

You turned your head to the side, finding his just inches away.

Once again, your heart took a toll.

Whatever you wanted to say, had flown out of your head.

The only thought in your mind was: God how I want to kiss him.

You had never admitted it, but I guess this was as good a time as any.

"go on angel, show me" he nodded

You obliged, getting back to the game but having to bite your lip to prevent your heavy breathing.

You once again relished the feeling of him so very close to you, and just as you did... an idea came to mind.

So what if I...

As you aimed for a ball, you let your body move with you, more precisely, you let your ass stretch out a bit, casually finding Pedro's crotch.

He cleared his throat, and you bit down a whimper at the feeling.

"sorry" you murmured, pretending to be still focused on the game.

"it's nothing sweetheart" he reassured you, his hands still on you.

"is this good?" you asked innocently as you grinded on him again, nodding to the way you were placing your fingers.

"fuc- Yeah," he said, his voice more strained "Yeah that's perfect sugar, just like that, you're doing really good"

"really?" you asked, moving your ass against him again.

You were determined to break him. And you did.

You had to admit it had been easier than you'd expected.

His hold on your waist got tighter "you might want to stop doing that" he whispered to your ear, spreading goosebumps all over you

"do what?" you asked naively

He chuckled softly

"You're gonna get me in trouble sugar"

"Why is that?" you said, turning to him.

He paused a moment, as if he was pondering if he should have told the truth.

"I wouldn't want to have to fuck you right here on this table" he spoke calmly as if he hadn't just said what he said, "what would all these people think?"

you bit your lip, stifling a whimper "I didn't take you for one to care about that type of thing"

"I'm not, trust me there's nothing I'd like more than to slide your pretty panties to the side and thrust into you right now, but I'm sure a lady like you wouldn't like that"

you smiled "You know me well," you said, leaning closer to him "So what do you say we go back to my hotel room?"

An incredibly wide smile tugged at his lips "I was hoping you would say that"

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pix3lplays · 6 months

Note

🌺Anon 1/3

Ok, I'll start strong with that one idea I had forgotten for like three days ( I had a dream about it, and I got up like burned to note it down).

So, reader is just friends with character ( jingyuan, Dan heng, luocha, and maybe someone else you want) and they get into an accident and have amnesia. And then the character lies to them that he is their lover/husband

How very interesting, let’s do it >:)

Tw! Manipulation

-HSR men lie about being reader’s husband after reader gets amnesia-

Jing Yuan: He didn’t Plan on lying to you. The idea came to him, a dark thought from the deepest depths of his mind when he heard you lost your memories in an accident…He KNOWS that a man like him should know better than to lie to you, especially about something like this…but what does he do when you first walk out of that hospital, your memories of him gone? He wraps you up in a massive hug, and proclaims how grateful he is that: “his love has returned to him…” You’re initially confused, but as he explains himself, sinking deeper into the lie, he can’t help but smile at you…you’re clearly believing you were once married to and in love with him. And before he knows it, you’re living together, like a married couple, and you’re wearing a beautiful wedding band, and you greet him when he comes home and he’s suddenly found his missing piece. You. I think he’d feel guilt, he really would, but I doubt he’d ever confess to you. Especially when your lips meet his, or when you treat Yanqing like your own son…when you genuinely feel like his spouse…he just…can’t bear the thought of losing you…

Dan Heng: He was a bit cold and distant, but you could tell he was a good man. Maybe this man really was your husband…after all…why would he lie to you? So you go with him aboard the Astral Express, genuinely believing the mysterious Dan Heng was your husband. The two of you share in many adventures together, as a married couple exploring the universe… He even reveals his identity as Imbibitor Lunae to you, because he trusts you, and you’re ‘married’ and as his spouse it’s only right that you know some of the truth. I think eventually the guilt of lying to his best friend would get to him though. I think he’d eventually confess the truth to you. What you do with the truth is up to you, stay with him, leave him…regardless…your time spent believing you were married to Dan Heng was definitely worth something.

Luocha: He has…the gentlest eyes, the softest smile, and he tells you the sweetest lies, for example, that he was, in fact, your husband. But you believe him so easily…after all, you just get this FEELING around him. This feeling that you can trust him. That he’d never hurt you. And it’s true, to an extent. Luocha would not feel any guilt about lying to you. After all, in his mind, the two of you were meant to be together. You were already best friends, what’s so wrong with skipping the dating and proposal steps? So now, the two of you are married. Honestly he’s a very good husband to you. You can imagine how you’d fall for a man like this…he treats you right, takes care of the chores around the house, cooks dinner for you…the two of you live a quiet life together, and you never find out the truth. Why would he tell you, after all of his hard work to make you believe he was your husband?

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail jing yuan x reader #dan heng #dan heng x reader #hsr dan heng x reader #Honkai star rail Dan Heng x reader #Luocha #Luocha x reader #hsr Luocha x reader #honkai star rail Luocha x reader

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shima-draws · 2 months

Note

OK, so thinking about a Sanlu au where Luffy is a Pirate King who gets so many marriage requests but does not want to get married. And so he instead insists that he gets to choose his partner through a contest where all the princes and princesses of like the countries around them or other pirates can like bring him a meal and if he likes it, you get married. The problem is that whenever people bring him food he'll just eat it and move on.

And so obviously the vinsmokes are like. Oh s***, we should get in on that. New Ally? And so they try with some of Sanji's others brothers, but none of them like work because they just made their cooks make their meals and everything.

Then eventually sanji, who wants to escape hears about this. And he knows that he can cook so he makes this amazing meat dish He is ready to present his meal towards the Prince in hopes of like maybe escaping his country and living there with Luffy. But like as he's on the way there, there's like this little girl who's starving, and so he gives her the meal instead. It was a one in a million shot anyway.

Anyway, either Luffy sees him doing this or if this was like the true test for kindness for all his partners, and sanji passes the test. Luffy's like get bring this man to me! So sanji goes before him, and luffy asks if he has a meal for him. All sanji has is like, this old sandwhich that he made for himself for the journey here, and sanji tells luffy that. Luffy tells him to bring it to him anyway, and after a lot of protests, he does. Luffy finally eats it and says that its delicious. He and sanji definitely get married.

Sorry for dumping this on you, but your artwork made me literally fall in love with sanlu so I wanted to share this middle of the night idea with you lol.

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP ANON THIS IS EVERYTHING.......I'm a SUCKER for AUs like this, ones that kinda give off that Cinderella vibe? The whole 'Well if I have to get married to a random stranger I'm gonna do it my way' trope is always so fun to explore

Luffy's one requirement for a spouse being that they have to cook well is SO on brand for him tbh. I feel like that's something that would be canon too. (Thinks about a situation like that in canon where Luffy's like well nobody can cook better than Sanji so I'll just marry Sanji! And Sanji double takes like wait what hold on a second--)

Even funnier would be if Luffy just met Sanji's brothers and was like. I don't like their vibes they seem mean. And all three of them being SO offended at that lmao

SANJI GIVING HIS DISH TO A STARVING GIRL THO AAAHGFHFHF THAT'S SO. CLENCHES MY TEETH he's so selfless and giving he would absolutely give up all of his dreams just to make sure someone doesn't go hungry I am GOING to cry. And Luffy immediately noticing that, pointing at Sanji and going "Him. I want that one" AGHHH 😭😭😭

ALSO YES THE CALLBACK TO WCI with Sanji's little lunch basket...the food is a total mess it's been rained on and dropped and looks awful but Luffy eats it anyway and says it's delicious...and Sanji's like oh oh oh I think I'm in love with him. Uh-oh.

DON'T APOLOGIZE THIS IS SOOO ADORABLE I'm so glad I got you hooked on Sanlu they are so underrated!!! Going slightly off topic here but I think it's really funny how predictable I am when it comes to getting into new media. Step 1 I watch a show and slowly discover who my Favorites are. Step 2 I end up shipping those favorites together. Step 3 I make that everybody else's problem. Also that ship almost always ends up being the less popular one for some reason?? Which is SO funny to me. Looks at Trustedpartner/Diode, Yujikiri and Tododeku as the most obvious examples of this along with Sanlu

ANYWAY anon I really want to write this can I write this. No guarantees to me actually finishing a full blown fic but oh my godddd this is such a cute idea and is so in character for both of them I'm weeping real tears

#Shima answers questions #I'm going to blow up this is SO THEM!! SO SANLU #I love them so much hahfhghfsanda #I love Cinderella-esque AUs anon you're a GENIUS #Sanlu #One Piece #Lusan #Luffy #Sanji #Monkey D Luffy #Black Leg Sanji

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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 9 months

Text

"you can do whatever you want, you're not Stuck With Me."

"i'll tell you one thing, we'd make history, you and me. you're getting closer now, it's getting better now, but you're still so far gone."

synopsis// bottled up feelings have to come out eventually.

pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader

word count// 8k

contents// angst with a happy ending, college!au, literally just y/n and geto being idiots but mostly y/n, shoko only knows tough love, obligatory rain scene, friends to lovers, ooc geto?

notes// scorpions are haunting me so i’m posting this as a distraction. anyways one of my anons requested this!!! so anon i hope i did ur idea justice and that u like it sorry its kinda all over the place.... anywho so besides this being a request, it was also inspired by the song the point by eatmewhileimhot! bye :3 OH and if anyone else has any other requests feel free to lmk!!

You poke at your food, focusing on the sound your fork makes as it scrapes against your plate instead of whatever the person sitting across from you is saying. You know you should pay attention; you know you’re being rude, but god, are you bored out of your fucking mind. You would much rather be hanging out with Suguru right now, feeling a twinge of regret at turning him down just for this.

“Y/N?”

Your head raises to look at the person in front of you. “Huh?”

They laugh nervously. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

You frown sheepishly. “Uh, no, sorry.”

“It’s fine,“ they say, clearing their throat, “I was just saying how I kinda wish we went somewhere else cause I'm craving zaru soba, but I wanted to impress you, you know?”

You nod, not computing the last of his sentence with your brain stuck on the mention of zaru soba. “Suguru likes that.”

“What?”

“Zaru soba—Suguru likes that.”

Your date shoots you a confused stare, and you subconsciously sink into your chair.

“Is, uh, is there something on my face or?” you ask, bringing your hands up to feel around your face.

They shake their head. “No, it’s just—uh, you bring up this Suguru guy a lot, and by a lot, I mean like you’ve brought him up this whole date...”

“I have?”

They nod.

“Shit—i’m sorry..”

“It’s fine.” They dismiss your apology by asking, “What is he to you anyway?”

You stare at him blankly. That’s an easy question. Suguru, to you, is your—he’s your—

“He your friend or something?”

Yes! Suguru is your friend—your best friend even—so why can't you say it out loud? Why are you hesitating?

You laugh nervously, mumbling, “Or something...”

“Or something?” they repeat in hopes you’ll elaborate on what you mean.

You don’t.

Instead, you stand abruptly out of your seat and gather your things. “Um! You know, this has been really great and all, but I actually think I should get going.”

"Oh, okay,” they say, standing up with you. “Uh, do you wanna do this again maybe?”

“You're a lovely person, but...

“It's Suguru, isn't it?”

“What?” You almost choke on your spit as you frantically stammer, “No, uh, no! It's not Suguru-Suguru’s just my-it's-“ you pause for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. “It's not because of him.”

They curtly hum. “Thanks for giving me a chance anyway.”

You nod. “I'm gonna—I'm gonna go.”

☆☆☆☆

Suguru is face down on a pillow on his bed when Gojo walks into their shared dorm.

“What happened now?” He asks as he goes to sit on the edge of Suguru’s bed.

“Y/N’s on a date,” he grumbles into the pillow, his words barely audible.

Gojo rolls his eyes. "Suguru, this is just sad at this point.”

Suguru lifts his head and glares at Gojo from over his shoulder. His eyes burning holes into the other's head.

“What? It is!”

Suguru groans and kicks Gojo as he buries his face back into his pillow.

“Ow! Don’t get mad at me for telling the truth!”

Suguru kicks him again.

“Stop that! You’re acting like a child!”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Ok, listen, this isn’t about me,” Gojo adds, rolling his eyes.

Suguru rolls onto his back and drapes an arm over his face, muttering, “Whatever.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Gojo grumbles as he stands up and walks over to his own bed. “I can't take this, Suguru.“ He grabs his pillow and throws it at Suguru. "You can't do this every time they go on a date!”

Suguru doesn’t even flinch when the pillow lands on his face, nor does he bother moving it as he responds, “Watch me.”

Gojo walks back over to Suguru and grabs the pillow from his face before resuming his position on the end of Suguru's bed. "How long has it been?”

“Since?”

“Since you first started liking them.”

Suguru hesitates to answer, “Too long.”

“Exactly!” Gojo exclaims, shaking the pillow in his hands for dramatic effect. “Maybe…”

Suguru waits a moment to see if Gojo will finish his sentence, and when he doesn’t, Suguru sits up, quirking up his eyebrow at him as he asks slowly, as if attempting to subtly warn Gojo to pick his next words carefully: "Maybe what, Gojo?”

“Maybe it’s time to try and move on, Suguru…” He frowns and asks softly, “Are you just gonna torture yourself like this for the rest of your life?”

Suguru sighs and turns away from Gojo, a small frown on his face. He knows he’s right, but he’s scared in all honesty because, on the one hand, what if it works? What if he actually does move on? What if it was this easy to move on this whole time and he was just here torturing himself for nothing? And on the other hand, he doesn't want it to. He’s liked you for so long. You've taken up so much of his heart that, at this point, he thinks his heart is shaped like you, and it would feel wrong to not like you. He can't imagine himself not being completely and utterly devoted to you, and he doesn’t think he wants to.

“Suguru.”

Suguru's brows knit together as he looks up at Gojo.

Gojo sighs. “Just try? One date. That’s all I’m asking.”

Suguru rolls his eyes, but there’s no real malice behind it. “I don’t even know anybody, Gojo.”

He perks up at the absence of rejection and happily explains, “Don’t worry bout that; leave it all up to me!" He emphasizes the word 'me' by pointing toward himself.

“Ok, well, that makes me even more inclined to say no.”

"Suguru, pleaseee,” Gojo begs. “Just one date!! That’s all I’m asking! You’re my friend, Suguru, and I know I don’t act like it, but I really do hate seeing you like this.”

Suguru crosses his arms and raises his eyebrow at him in suspicion, wondering, “Why are you being nice?”

“Because, contrary to popular belief, I do in fact care about my friends.”

Suguru breathes out heavily at his response, letting a brief silence wash over them.

“So..." Gojo pries.

“Fine.”

“Yay!-“

Suguru instantly cuts him off, one finger raised, as he emphasizes sharply, “But just one date, Gojo.“

“Good enough for me!” he says, nodding quickly. “This will be the best date of your life, and you’ll realize you don’t even like Y/N all that much!”

Suguru feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him from that statement but quickly plays it off with a scoff, “Yeah, or it’s the worst date of my life, and I realize just how much more I like Y/N.”

“Ok, well,“ Gojo frowns and scratches his head awkwardly, “Can we at least try to be optimistic?”

“Fine.”

☆☆☆☆

Shoko’s sitting on her bed with her textbook in her lap when you enter your dorm, kicking your shoes off haphazardly across the room and slamming the door shut.

“You good?”

You groan in response as you sluggishly make your way toward her, pushing the book off her lap and instead replacing it with your head.

She looks down at you with a raised eyebrow. “I was reading that, you know.”

You groan again, but this time it comes out louder and more gutteral.

“Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or are you gonna just lay here in my lap groaning?” she asks, rolling her eyes.

You pout, looking up at her. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“Where should I start?”

“Shoko,” you whine.

She bites back a smile as she asks, “Why would you think something's wrong with you?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter. “I mean, I go on so many dates, right?”

Shoko nods and hums something in acknowledgment.

“But they all never end up working out! Like none of them!” You exclaim, throwing your hands out in front of you, barely missing Shoko, who jerks her head to the side just in time. “They always all say the same thing.”

She pushes your hands back down so that she can return to her original position and asks, “Which is?”

You let your hands fall onto your chest as you turned your head to the side to avoid her gaze, mumbling, “That I mention Suguru a lot.”

You don’t even have to look back up at her to know she’s raising her eyebrows at you in question.

“Well, do you?”

Your gaze snaps back up at her as you exclaim, “Yeah, but!” You pause. “He's my… He's my best friend, so obviously I'd mention him a lot!”

The word best friend feels heavy and foreign in your mouth, like it shouldn’t have been there in the first place. You’ve never had to put a label on you and Suguru, not until the dates at least, but even then, you and Suguru were just... simply that. You were just you and Suguru.

“Really feeling the love here.”

“Shokoooooo.”

She rolls her eyes. “You were just on a date, right?”

You nod.

“And so what happened?”

“Nothing! I was bored; I'm always bored on these dates.”

"Okay, hypothetically,” she says, “What would you have rather been doing?”

“Hanging out with Suguru! I always tell myself that I'm literally gonna stop canceling on him for dates because I always end up regretting it.”

“Right, right,” she says, nodding. “Y/N, have you ever considered that maybe you like Geto?”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I like Suguru, idiot. Did you not just hear me call him my-“

She cuts you off: “Your best friend. Yeah, whatever; that's not what I mean. I mean, like. romantically.”

“Huh?” Shoko’s words take a minute to fully register in your brain, but once they do, your jaw drops. “Huh?! Pft, no, of course not, that is... That is a… That is a silly thought.”

She stares down at you blankly, knowing the way you just stumbled over your whole sentence reveals your lack of conviction in your own words. "Right… Well, if you’re gonna be an idiot in denial, can you do that in your own bed? I need to study.”

You roll your eyes as you sit up. “Is studying all you do?”

She shrugs, and now that her lap is free from you, she places her textbook back into her lap. “Is obsessing over Geto all you do?”

“I don't like you.”

“You love me. Now leave me alone.”

You begrudgingly hop off her bed and into your own, making it a point to sigh dramatically the whole time. Once you're in your own bed, your phone goes off, and upon seeing who the message is from, you bite back a smile.

Shoko looks up from her textbook at the noise. “Oh? That your man?”

“Shut your mouth.”

She simply laughs under her breath before returning to her studies, and you happily return your attention back to your phone.

Suguru<3: hey

Y/N: hey!

Suguru<3: oh I didn't expect you to reply so quick lol. I thought u were on a date?

Y/N: was :/ that shit suckedddddd it was so boring Suguru pls I would've much rather hung out with you

Suguru<3: well I mean u could've

Y/N: I KNOWWWW ugh next time remind me to never cancel on you for a lame date again k?

Suguru<3: yeah I will… so I'm taking it you won't be seeing them again?

Y/N: definitely not... I do wanna see u again tho!!

Suguru<3: you'll see me in class y/n

Y/N: yeah but that's so far awayyyyy

Suguru<3: yk if u wanna hangout rn u can just say so

Y/N: do u wanna hang out?

Suguru<3: he can't he's busy -gojo

Y/N: gojo when I get my hands on u.

Suguru<3: :p -gojo

You groan dramatically and throw your phone somewhere onto your bed as you shove your face into your pillow, mumbling, “I'm going to sleep.”

“Eager to see your man tomorrow?”

“Die.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Gojo and Suguru are walking to class when Gojo starts humming obnoxiously, like he’s thinking about something and wants someone to notice, so he doesn’t stop until Suguru sighs.

“Can you shut up?”

Gojo frowns and feigns hurt. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what I’m thinking about?”

“Fine, what are you thinking about, Gojo?”

Gojo slightly leans in toward Suguru as he coos, “Thinking about who I’m gonna set you up with, obviously!”

"Oh, right about that...”

“Nuh uh, you can't back out!”

“But I think they might feel the same?” Suguru says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

Gojo’s head whips toward Suguru in shock. “Wait huh?”

“Before you stole my phone yesterday—which I’m still mad about, by the way—they said they would’ve rather hung out with me than go on the date,” he says, pulling out his phone to show Gojo the texts.

Gojo doesn’t say anything, and the lack of anything coming out of his mouth worries Suguru, who’s now scanning Gojo’s face for a trace of anything to tell him what the other is thinking and gets it when Gojo finally cracks a frown.

“What? Why do you look like that?” Suguru asks, and he hates how it comes out more panicked than he intended, his own voice like nails on a chalkboard to his ears.

“I don't wanna say anything that would get your hopes up,” Gojo says, his gaze now fixed on his steps. “And besides, maybe this date could still be good.”

“You’re not gonna let me get out of this, are you?”

“Of course not!” he says, his regular pep back in his step. “So does tomorrow work for you?”

“Yeah, whatever, Gojo, you’d make me go regardless, I don’t know why you ask.”

“Lol, true anyway." Gojo’s steps come to a halt. "Here’s my class; see you later!”

Suguru waves him off: "Yeah, whatever, oh, and Gojo?”

“Hm?”

“At least set me up with someone good," he says, an ever-so-slight smile on his face.

“Of course! Leave it all up to me, bestie!”

Suguru nods and continues on toward his own class, only then does he huff, “Yeah, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

☆☆☆☆

You sat in your seat, your cheek leaning in your palm, sighing every so often from boredom but quickly perking up when you notice a familiar face walk through the door.

“Suguru!”

“Y/N!”

Your gaze is glued to him as you watch him take his seat beside you; only once he’s fully situated do you speak up again: “I was wondering if you were skipping or something.”

Suguru tilts his head at you in confusion, asking, “Why?”

“Because you took so long.”

He tries to ignore the heat rising to his cheeks. “Did you miss me that much?”

“Shut up. What were you doing anyway?”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “Gojo made me walk him to class.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, your voice unamused as you speak, “Lame excuse, I walk with Shoko to her class every day and I still get here before you.”

“Yeah, that’s cause it’s Shoko?”

“True, I’ll excuse it for today if...”

“If?” He narrows his eyes at you, urging you to continue your sentence.

“If we hang out tomorrow?”

“Can we hang out today?” He looks away as he says, “I’m kinda busy tomorrow....”

“Aw man,” you say, frowning, “You’re never busy.”

“I know, sorry, it’s just—" He halts before mumbling out the rest of his sentence—“something Gojo’s making me do.”

Suguru finally returns his gaze to you when he hears you huff.

“He’s taking you from me too often; I'll have to intervene sooner or later if he keeps this up.”

He stifles a laugh. “Can you not today?”

“Nope, I've gotta work on a project for one of my classes,” you say with a disappointed sigh.

“Okay, well, how about Wednesday, then?”

“I can fit you into my schedule, I suppose.”

“Oh shut up; don’t act like you weren’t the one asking me to hang out last night.”

“I was a different person then,” you deadpan.

Suguru rolls his eyes but can’t even try to hide the grin on his face. “Yeah, ok.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Come the next afternoon, Suguru finds himself staring into a mirror at his outfit with a small scowl on his face.

“I look stupid.”

“You always look stupid,” Gojo remarks, patting Suguru on the back.

Suguru ignores him and rolls his eyes, his voice small as he borderline pleads, “Do I really have to go?”

“Yes! It’s too late to back out now when your date is in like twenty minutes, so really you should get going by now,” he says while attempting to push Suguru out the door.

Suguru doesn’t budge. “I don't even know this person, Gojo.”

“That’s what dates are for!”

Suguru looks over his shoulder at Gojo, who’s still trying to push him out the door. “You know this isn’t gonna work, right?”

Gojo rolls his eyes and huffs, “Well, not with that attitude.”

“Gojo.”

“Suguru, you said you’d try! so go! try!”

Suguru sighs and reluctantly gives in… again. “I hate you.”

Gojo waves him off, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you can hate me after your date.”

Suguru doesn’t reply and instead opts to flip him off as he walks out the door.

☆☆☆☆

Suguru sits at a secluded booth in a dimly lit restaurant, lost in thought rather than listening to whatever the person sitting across from him is saying. He knows he should be paying attention; he knows he’s being rude, but god is he bored out of his fucking mind, and to say he’s hating every second of this is an understatement. He’d much rather be hanging out with you right now, regretting turning you down for this because just being here makes a part of him feel like he’s betraying you, and the thought has him anxiously wiping his sweaty palms against his pants. He’s been in love with you since he first laid eyes on you. Suguru was naive to believe he could delude himself into thinking that there was any possibility in any way that he’d move on, let alone with someone Gojo picked.

“Suguru?”

He quickly looks up at the person in front of him. “Yeah?”

They laugh nervously. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No, sorry—I guess I was just, uh, lost in thought.”

"Oh, it’s fine,” they say, confusingly normal about the whole situation. “I was just, um, talking about your friend Gojo, actually.”

He blinks. “Why?”

“I was actually hoping you'd help me get with him?”

“You do realize you're on a date with me, right?”

“Please.” They roll their eyes. “Don't act like you wanna be here any more than I do right now.”

“How did-“

“It's written all over your face, you know? They must be really special.” They tease with a sweet smile, “I almost feel like I should be jealous.”

Suguru swallows harshly, suddenly feeling way more exposed than he would ever want to, especially on a ‘date’. “Sorry…”

They shrug. “Don't be; honestly, I just said yes to this to get some pointers on Gojo, so I don't think I'm any better than you right now.”

Suguru nods, his mind reeling. He’s not actually sure what’s going on or how he got here in the first place. How could his date be so okay with the fact that he’s here thinking about someone else? Oh, right, because so are they, but it’s still not clicking in his brain.

“You can leave if you want.”

He narrows his eyes at them skeptically. “Huh?”

“To go hang out with the one you actually like.”

Suguru shakes his head. There’s somehow too much happening right now for him to comprehend. “Again, what?”

They roll their eyes playfully, an amused smile on their face, as they lean over the table and whisper, “Suguru, I'm giving you an out.”

He blinks, and suddenly everything clicks, and he doesn’t understand why he’s still here when they just told him they could go to you. He stands up abruptly and says, “Right, I'm...“

“Don't say you're sorry; make it up to me by going to them, yeah?”

“I really appreciate that. Uhm, text me and I'll give you pointers on Gojo?”

They laugh and nod. “Yeah. Now, shoo, go to the one you actually want to be with.”

Suguru turns his head toward the exit of the restaurant, ready to leave, but pauses and ends up turning back to his ‘date’, a small smile on his face. “Thank you.��

“Mhm! Also, I want to meet them sometime, k? We’re friends now, sorry!”

“Yeah… Yeah, you can. Someday? Maybe…”

They tilt their head at him, unamused despite the smile on their face. “Bye Suguru.”

He returns the smile and waves before heading off to find you.

☆☆☆☆

You found yourself under a tree somewhere on campus, attempting—and failing—to entertain yourself since Suguru was busy and couldn't hang out, and you didn't even dare try to go to Shoko for entertainment, knowing her face is probably stuffed into her textbook and she would berate you for interrupting her, or if she did agree, she would spend the whole time with her whole face screaming how she would much rather be studying, even when her studying proves to be just for fun because she cheats on her exams anyway, but you digress. Lost in thought, you don't notice how someone’s approached you until their shadow falls over you.

“You dead?”

You look up and are pleasantly surprised to see Suguru. “Hey! I thought you were busy?”

Suguru shrugs. “Left early.”

“What’d you go do anyway?”

“A date.”

The minute the words leave Suguru’s mouth, you can feel your stomach churn in a horrible way. like you’re on a rollercoaster, but it's not fun; you want to get off, and you want to get off now, like this is final destination and you’re about to fall to your doom. Or more so, this makes you realize you've already fallen to your doom; you've already fallen in love with Suguru, and it took Shoko saying something and him going on a date for it to really sink in like it hadn't been there all along. Your jaw clenches, and you're quiet—terrifyingly quiet—and it makes Suguru regret saying anything; he doesn’t even know why he did... Okay, no, he knows. He knows he was acting petty and wanted to rub it in your face like you rub your dates in his, even if not purposeful, and besides, you two are friends, and friends are honest with each other. But maybe he shouldn’t have been, and it's excrutiatingly obvious he shouldn't have been when you suddenly stand up and avoid his gaze.

“Y/N?”

You kick at the dirt under your shoes and mumble, “I should, um, Shoko actually just texted me.”

“Y/N, can you look at me, please?” Suguru sounds desperate.

You look up at him and smile, but with the way your eyes are glazed over, it’s like you’re not even there. “Yeah?”

“I thought we could hang out now?”

“Yeah, but—ugh—Shoko really needs my help, you know?”

“Are we still on for tomorrow at least?”

“I hope your date was good, Suguru.”

“Y/N-“

“If I keep her waiting any longer, she’ll be really mad. I’m gonna go.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Suguru wishes he could say he’s surprised when you don’t show up to class the next day, but he’s not. Not at all. Especially from the way you ran off yesterday to how you’re still not answering any of his texts or calls, it was a telltale sign that Suguru would not be seeing you today. That didn’t stop him from trying, though. Of course not. So halfway through class, he left—not like he was paying attention anyway—and made his way to your dorm. Though he hesitates to knock once he’s actually there, he doesn’t even know why you’re ignoring him in the first place, and honestly? He’s scared to find out.

You’ve never acted like this with him before; you’ve always been an open book, always the first to speak up if something he did upset you, so he doesn’t understand why you’ve suddenly done a complete 180. He takes a deep breath before knocking. He came all this way; he isn’t going to just leave without figuring out what's wrong—or at least he’s going to try to figure out what's wrong.

No answer.

He knocks again.

No answer.

Suguru groans as he goes to knock one more time, but before he can, the door is swung open, and he’s met with a disheveled-looking Shoko.

“What?”

“Shoko, hi—“ Suguru gives her a quick once-over. "Sorry, were you asleep?”

She crosses her arms and blows a tuft of hair out of her face. “I was, and I'd like to go back to sleep, so-“

“Right, sorry, uh, is Y/N here?”

“No,” she replies quickly, far too quickly that Suguru doesn't believe her and instead tries to look into the room to find you. Shoko immediately picks up on this and shifts her body to cover any gaps he could look through. “They aren’t here, sorry.”

“Shoko,” he monotones.

She chews the inside of her lip and looks away, and Suguru can tell she's dying to say something, but she ultimately decides against it and shakes her head, looking back up at him.

“They’re not here, sorry.”

Suguru sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It's fine, sorry for waking you.”

“It's fine… Take care of yourself, Geto.”

“Yeah. You too.”

Shoko quickly shuts the door, and instead of climbing back into bed, she grabs her pillow and makes her way toward your bed, only to end up hitting you with it repeatedly. You pull your covers over your head in a futile attempt to protect yourself.

“Shoko, stop!”

“You stop.” She punctuates every word with a hit of her pillow.

“You’re the one hitting me!”

Shoko hits you one last time. “I mean, stop ignoring him, idiot.”

You peek your head out from under the covers, a frown on your face.

“Don't look at me like that; you’re acting childish, and you know that.”

“I can’t look at him.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“Shoko, I'm serious!” You speak adamantly, sitting up. “I mean, I realize I like him the exact moment he tells me he went on a date?”

“Who’s fault is that?”

“Shoko, I-I can't.”

“Whatever, sulk all you want; don't talk to him about it; I don't care; just scoot over.”

Your face twists in confusion. “What?”

“I'm tired,” she says blankly, now climbing into your bed.

You listen and scoot over, though it's more like she pushes you over. “You know you have your own bed, right?”

She yawns: “Too far away.”

You look down at her, and she's somehow already fast asleep. You roll your eyes and lay back down, looking up at the ceiling with your mind racing, and suddenly your phone vibrates. You know who it is; he’s the only one who texts you, but that doesn’t stop you from checking anyway.

Suguru<3: hey.

Suguru<3: did I do something?

Suguru<3: I don't understand.

Suguru<3: you weren't in class so I tried going to ur dorm. shoko said you weren't there but I don't really believe her.

Suguru<3: can you just talk to me please?

Suguru<3: I miss you.

Suguru<3: guess this means we aren’t hanging out today huh?

Suguru<3: text me soon please.

☆☆☆☆

Thursday

Suguru<3: no class again?

Suguru<3: look I get it

Suguru<3: okay maybe I don't.

Suguru<3: I don't know what I did wrong but if you don't wanna talk that's fine

Suguru<3: can you just let me know you’re okay?

Suguru<3: fuck I don't even care if you have shoko tell me you’re okay or if you tell gojo I just

Suguru<3: I just need to know you’re okay y/n.

Suguru<3: how long are you gonna avoid me?

Suguru<3: or avoid class?

Suguru<3: I miss you.

“Can you answer your fucking phone,” Shoko snaps.

You glare at her and instead shut your phone off completely. “There. Happy?”

"No, not at all; I won't be happy till you stop sulking.”

You smile at her condescendingly. "You are so lovely; did you know that?”

She sighs deeply. “Y/N, you’re ignoring Geto because he went on one date.”

“I'm ignoring him because I'm in love with him.”

She narrows her eyes at you. “And he's supposed to know that how? I'm a hundred percent sure the poor boy has no clue what he did.”

“Shoko, you don't get it! You've never been in love,” you sneer.

“I don't need to be in love to know you're acting stupid.” She shakes her head. “You know what? Ignore him all you want; that's your problem, but you need to go to class; don't throw away your college degree for him.”

You sigh, finally agreeing with her on at least one thing. “Yeah... Yeah, I know I'll go tomorrow.”

She nods happily. “Good. Now can I get back to studying?”

“I'm not the one who made you stop, you took that upon yourself.”

“Watch yourself; I'll walk my ass straight to Geto's dorm and tell him for you.”

“…Sorry”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

You get to class the next day extremely early and take a seat in the far back, away from everyone else, hoping Suguru would somehow not see you, or maybe more like in hopes you wouldn’t see him. It doesn't work. The minute he walks in, his eyes are drawn to yours like there was an invisible string there tying him directly to you, and your stomach twists as you see him approach you. As he’s approaching you, he sees your face, and he sees how you look like you're five seconds away from vomiting up everything you’ve ever eaten since you were born, so he stops in his tracks. Besides, a confrontation in the middle of class wouldn't be a good idea either way, so he’ll just catch you after class.

That somehow proves to be much harder than it should have been because once class ends and he turns around to catch you before you leave, you're already gone. He blinks incredulously at your empty seat for a moment before snapping out of it and running out into the halls, trying to find you among the crowd of people, which is easy for him considering you're the only thing that exists to Suguru right now and pretty much always, but even despite that, he can't find you. He stands in the hall, watching people pass him by as he does nothing, and the only thing he can hear is his heartbeat ringing in his ears and the rain that suddenly started sometime during all of this.

He finally snaps out of it once more and realizes that since it randomly started raining, there's a chance that you're somewhere waiting the rain out, unless you are so dead set on avoiding him that you don't care in the first place and walk back to your dorm in the rain anyway... Suguru hopes he's right as he starts walking toward the exit, and exhales heavily in relief when he sees you out on the porch and slowly creeps up behind you.

“Did you know it was gonna rain?”

You flinch at the sound of his voice. “No.”

Suguru’s heart feels like it's about to burst right out of his chest, and he feels like it's been way too long since he's heard your voice. “I think Gojo is gonna bring me an umbrella; do you wanna wait with me?”

“No.”

“No?”

You shake your head and start walking out into the rain, but you don't get far when Suguru reaches out and grabs your wrist.

“Wait!”

You look back at him, your jaw clenched tight. “Let go of me, Suguru.”

“You’ll get sick.”

You yank your wrist out of his grasp. “I don't care; I want to go back to my dorm.”

For a few moments, Suguru feels stuck in place as he watches you begin to walk away, yet everything in his being is screaming at him to go after you, to not let you go. He doesn’t even realize he was holding his breath this whole time until he gasps for air, and at the same time, his body finally decides to align with his mind, and he runs after you. You can hear his foot steps pattering against puddles, which only makes you speed up your walking.

Suguru notices this, and although he's still chasing after you, he decides to call out a pained, “Why are you ignoring me?”

You almost don't even hear him over how loud the rain has grown.

Almost.

“I'm not ignoring you, Suguru,” you say, stopping in your tracks with a deep sigh. He’ll catch you sooner or later, so maybe it's best to just get it over with.

Suguru doesn’t say anything until he's right behind you. You can hear just how clearly his voice trembles as he says, “Oh, so we’re lying now?”

“I'm no-“

“What the fuck happened? What are you doing?” and although he sounded exasperated only a second ago, when he speaks again, it's horrifyingly subdued: “This—this isn't us.”

You whip around to face him, a scowl on your face as you fume, “There is no us.”

Suguru’s face goes blank. No us? That's not right. That's all there is. There's only ever been an us because Suguru is not him without you. It's never just Suguru. It's you and Suguru; it's him and you; there's no him without you.

“What?”

“There is no us, Suguru; that's—“ you say, gesturing in little circles with your hands in front of you, trying to act out whatever word you're looking for. “That's the fucking problem.”

“I don't—“ His voice is breathy as he shakes his head in confusion. “What are you saying, Y/N?”

“You know what I'm saying.”

“No,” he says sternly, "No, I don't. I need to hear you say it.”

You take a deep breath and squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the rain falling against your face rather than the words coming out of your mouth: “I'm in love with you.”

The silence is suffocating, and you're violently aware of how you can feel Suguru’s eyes burning holes into you. You swallow harshly before peeking your eyes open, and he’s just standing there wide-eyed, his jaw slack.

“Suguru?”

“Why now?”

With his voice so small and brittle, you hardly even heard him.

“Huh?”

“Why now?” he repeats, this time louder, harsher.

“I don't—I don't understand?”

Suguru laughs in disbelief. He brings his hands up to cover his face, and he just laughs into them or cries; he's not even quite sure anymore. And after a few moments of this, he finally takes a deep breath, running one hand down his face as the other drops back to his side. “Do you know how long I’ve been in love with you, Y/N?”

“What?” You’re hopeful for a moment, but that all comes quickly crashing down, realization washing over you. “Wait, but you went on a date.”

“Y/N, it's been so long that Gojo got tired of me wallowing in my own self-pity every time you went on a date.” He sighs and takes a moment to collect his thoughts. “So he forced me to go on one too to try and help me move on.”

“Why didn't you wait for me?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Suguru doesn't know whether to nod or shake his head. “No, I know, but I don't understand.”

Your face scrunches up in disdain, silently reading—what's there to not understand? “Why didn't you wait for me to fall in love with you?”

“Y/N, do you even hear what you're saying right now?” he scoffs. “Do you even hear what I'm saying? All I've ever fucking done was wait for you, and I go on one date that I left early for you, and now I'm the bad guy?”

Your heart sinks like a bag of rocks into a deep body of water. “No wait, Suguru, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry.”

Suguru looks down, avoiding your stare, carefully tapping a puddle with the tip of his shoe as he mumbles, “Yeah.”

“Do-“ you stop yourself and swallow harshly before continuing, “Are you still in love with me?”

He stays silent, and embarrassment floods your bones. How could he still love you? You, who's been subconsciously dangling a treat in front of him like some kind of animal just to coax him into doing what you want, into staying with you, following you around, just because you were too out of touch to realize you even liked him in the first place. Of course, he wouldn't still love you.

“Of course I am. Don't be silly,” he reluctantly admits.

Relief washes over you, and the breath you take feels like the first one you've taken since Tuesday, when he told you about his date in the first place. “So... now what?”

The same relief does not wash over Suguru; in fact, he's feeling anything but relief. Too many things to name, to pin point; it's just all too much. This is just too much. “I need space; I can't—" he shakes his head, his voice barely above a whisper, "I can't do this right now.”

“What?”

“I just. I can't. I'm sorry.”

Your voice cracks, “But-“

“I just need to think about this,” he says, waving his hands around in small circles, referencing the two of you.

“Oh.” You take a step back and nod. “Okay. I'll go then... I love you, Suguru.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah, I love you too.”

Suguru watches you walk away, and he can't tell his tears apart from the rain; can’t tell if his heart is stopping or if it's racing; can't tell if he's breathing or suffocating; he can't tell anything. His surroundings are drowning out and blurring into vague shapes and figures around him, and Suguru is sure he could just drop dead right then and there.

“Jeez, I didn't take that long that you had to walk out in the rain, dramatic much?”

Suguru, in all honesty, didn’t hear a word that was just said; the only thing that caught his attention was the lack of rain hitting him. He looks up to find an umbrella there instead of the dark cloudy sky that resembled his insides a little too much, then looks to his side to find Gojo there, and he wants to wipe the stupid grin off his face. If he can't be happy, why should Gojo? His head drops in defeat at his own thoughts. God, he’s acting shitty.

“Sorry.”

Gojo looks at him curiously. “You good?”

“No. No, I'm not good.”

"Hey dude, what's wrong?”

Suguru lets out a harsh laugh, and with no rain hitting him anymore, he knows for sure the thing dripping down his face is tears. “I fucked up.“

Gojo scans Suguru’s face frantically, looking for something—anything—that will tell him what's wrong with his best friend.

“Suguru, you have to be a little more specific than that.”

“Y/N loves me back.”

Gojo goes wide-eyed, and he gives a confused smile because how could this warrant his friend’s reaction? “What dude, that's gr-“

Suguru quickly cuts him off: "Great, I know, but I told them to give me space, Gojo.”

Frankly, Gojo isn't even worried anymore; he’s just in complete disbelief, shouting, “What? Why the hell would you do that?! Are you stupid?”

“Maybe!” he shouts back, trembling. “I don't know! They just— They went on about how I should've waited for them, and I was mad because that's all I've ever fucking done. I don't know; I wasn't thinking straight, and I fucked up, and they left. I made them leave. I asked for space when I hated all the space we've had from each other this whole week, and I asked for more?” He repeatedly hits his forehead with his palm, muttering, “I'm an idiot, fuck.“

“Suguru.”

“What?”

Gojo tilts his head at him. “Why are you still here?”

The question stills his movements, his hand falling back to his side, and he stares at Gojo in pure confusion. “What?”

“You obviously know that space isn't what you want, and you just said it in the heat of the moment, so why are you still here?”

Suguru is silent.

“Why aren't you running after them? They want you, dude! And you want them too!”

Suguru thinks if it weren’t for Gojo constantly moving, he'd think time had completely stopped in time with his realization on how he’s a complete moron.

“Suguru.”

Suguru sighs. “I hate when you're right; you know that?”

Gojo perks up knowing that he got through to Suguru; he coos sing-song, “If that were true, you'd hate me all the time.”

Suguru nods, “I do.”

“Oh, shut up." Gojo extends the handle of his umbrella toward Suguru. “Do you want my umbrella?”

“No, it’s fine; I’m already wet,” Suguru says, looking down at his soaked clothes as he wipes any remaining tears away. “What’s a little bit more water?”

“Good luck, Suguru.”

“Thanks Gojo.”

☆☆☆☆

You walk into your dorm slowly, in a daze-like state. Honestly, you don't even remember walking here; you just remember your fight? confession? argument? — your something with Suguru, and then there's a lapse in your memory, and now you're here.

“Y/N, dude, you're getting water everywhere.“

You sniffle and look down at the puddle that's forming underneath you. “Sorry.”

Shoko tentatively stands up from her bed and cranes her neck down to try and look at your face. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

You look up at her with a wobbly smile. “I confessed.”

She looks at you blankly, unsure if she should say something or if you are.

“He asked for space.”

“He likes you, and he asked for space?”

“I didn't tell you that—“

“It's obvious; keep up,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Anyways, so he asked for space?”

You nod blankly. “Uh huh.”

“Why?”

You rub your eyes in hopes that not looking at Shoko will make the embarrassment lessen. “I said some things in the heat of the moment, and... and yeah.”

It doesn’t.

She’s strangely unfazed; in fact, if anything, she’s partially annoyed. “Ok, and you’re just going to listen to him?”

“What else am I supposed to do, Shoko?” you ask incredulously, glaring at her with your hands back at your sides.

“Fight for him? He likes you back, and if you said something in the heat of the moment, odds are that him asking for space was also just in the heat of the moment.”

“You weren't there, Shoko. You didn't see how he was looking at me—at how he said it.”

“Y/N,” she says disappointedly, eyes shut and pinching her nose bridge. “He's literally been so upset at you ignoring him these past few days; do you really think he meant it when he asked for space? Even more space?”

You blink at her, your mind gone blank.

“Look, maybe he did, yeah? But maybe he didn't, and you won't know unless you go fight for him.”

“I don't know Shoko,” you mumble skeptically.

She rolls her eyes as she rebuts, "At the very least, you can apologize for what you said.”

“I already did.”

“Again, this time now that your head is… somewhat clearer... Are you really just gonna let him get away like this?”

“…no,” you answer weakly, which isn’t good enough for you or Shoko, who’s looking at you with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “No,” you say again, this time with true conviction behind your words—word. “I don't want to let him get away like this. I don't want it to end like this.”

She gestures toward the door with a small, proud smile on her face. “Then go.”

You look back at the door before looking back at her and nodding. “Thank you, Shoko.”

“Uh huh,” she says, starting to walk back toward her bed, “and when you come back, you better not make another puddle.”

“No promises.”

☆☆☆☆

In an attempt to save whatever dignity you have left, you decide not to run down the halls like a shitty rom-com cliché; instead, you speed walk. Which, in hindsight, is probably even more embarrassing than just full-sending it by running, but you digress. You barely get halfway down the hall when you see Suguru. Both of you make eye contact at the same time, yet neither of you stop making your way toward each other, but you both slow down, carefully walking toward each other like two predators about to attack.

“You're leaving puddles in the hall,” you say quietly now that the two of you have come to a halt right in front of each other.

Suguru nods and looks you up and down. “So are you.”

You both stand there for a moment, just staring at each other, neither of you saying anything. Allowing your presence to speak for itself, but it's awkward—too awkward—and it feels like your knees are gonna give out on you if you stare at him any longer in silence.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came for you." He shakes his head, ignoring his own answer, like his very words aren't the most important thing to you right now. He came for you. “What are you doing here? I thought you would’ve been in your dorm by now.“

“I was—“ your voice grows quiet, “But I was coming for you too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t have anything to apologize for, Suguru. I shouldn’t have said what I said; that was selfish of me. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want space,” he blurts out, hardly acknowledging your apology, which he didn't need in the first place. What he needs is you, and it will always be you.

“You don’t?”

“God no,” he says vehemently. “Space is the last thing I want. I don’t want space from you. I feel like there’s something missing when I’m away from you. How could I ever want space, Y/N?” His voice cracks a little at the end, and it has your heart racing. “I was just mad, and I shouldn’t have said that.”

You have all of these feelings inside you, and you’ve cried enough today to last the rest of your life, so instead you find yourself laughing, and Suguru looks slightly mortified.

“Why are you laughing?”

You laugh some more before trying to catch your breath, and you take a step forward closer toward him as you speak through deep breaths, “I’m just so fucking relieved. I-fuck-I love you, Suguru.”

Suguru closes the space between you two, pulling you into his embrace, and you tuck your face into his shoulder, his cold, damp clothes doing wonders to soothe your now-burning cheeks.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

“I think we look stupid standing here soaking wet and hugging...”

“Wanna make ourselves look even stupider by standing here soaking wet and kissing?”

You pull away ever so slightly just to look at him, and he’s staring at you with a smirk, and the longer he waits, the more furious the blush on his cheeks gets, and you can't help but stall your answer even more just for that reason.

“…matter of fact, yes, I do.”

Suguru grins widely but wastes no time connecting your lips together. The kiss is better than you could have ever imagined; it's gentle yet passionate all at once, and it's sloppy because neither of you can fully stop smiling long enough to keep the kisses consistent. And It's everything. He's everything, and you're mad that it even took you this long to realize that in the first place, but at least you don't have to worry about that anymore. Now you just have to worry about the fact that you two will probably end up getting sick from your wet clothes, but that's a problem for after you two stop kissing—if you two ever stop kissing.

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