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#it weighed on me heavily leaving it where I did
sincerelyyuu · 1 day
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"in the end, it's still you."
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: you thought having your two best friends satoru and suguru by your side was all that you needed to get through the rough times. but slowly you find satoru slipping through your fingers and suguru tries his hardest to help pick up the pieces of your wounded heart ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content: angst angst angst, sfw, fluff if you squint, s2 spoilers, teen!gojo and teen!geto during jujutsu tech days, both boys are hopelessly in love with bestfriend!reader, pet names, reader is also a sorcerer in the same year and is unaware of their romantic feelings ➼ wc: 2.8K words ➼ a/n: my first jjk fic! let me know how i did ♡
The life of a sorcerer isn’t for the faint hearted. You found yourself spending your days constantly training, pushing your physical body to its limit. The way your skin crawled from the constant bloodshed that came with every curse you exorcised. The constant criticisms that came from the people around you to become even stronger weighing heavily on your mind.
The pressure was beginning to take a huge toll on you. You felt like you as an individual didn’t matter, your thoughts and feelings deemed irrelevant all in the name of saving others.
However, there were always two people that always made you feel seen.
Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru.
It all began when you were enrolled into Jujutsu High during your first year. Leaving behind the secluded town that you once called home, you were completely alone. Knowing what was expected from you, you were told that you were strictly here to become the strongest sorcerer you could be.
But fate had other plans for you. From the day you first stepped into the classroom, Satoru immediately gravitated to you. He knew you were strong and that there was more to you than meets the eye. You also peaked Suguru’s interest from the way you steeled yourself in an attempt to not reveal too much of your inner self. Somehow along the way through various missions and a multitude of adventures, the two men managed to crack away at your defenses and you found yourself in this trio of friendship. Wherever you went, they were right behind you.
Satoru and Suguru were like yin and yang, both physically and metaphorically. The white haired male carried an air of confidence wherever he went. He was the type to never take things too seriously unless truly necessary and he never failed to find ways to make you smile with corny jokes or embarrassing stories. Like that time he nearly burnt the dorm down trying to boil an egg (the reason why he’s banned from the kitchen and why Suguru is in charge of cooking meals).
Meanwhile, the raven haired male was the most level headed between you three. Every move and action he made was always thought through carefully. Although he didn’t necessarily encourage Satoru’s endless shenanigans (and by default yours as well as his), Suguru never hesitated to come to the rescue for you both. Life as a sorcerer didn’t seem so bad anymore if it meant having these two by your side.
Until you didn’t.
“Toru, let’s get dinner with Suguru!”
“Sorry sweets, I have a mission right after this but I’m all yours next time!”
“Hey man, are you still down for hanging at (y/n)’s dorm later?”
“Can’t. They’re sending me off to deal with this one curse they couldn’t handle. Luckily they have the strongest to handle it!”
The stronger Satoru became over the years, the more he went solo on missions, and the less time you found yourself seeing him. Instead of taking on missions as a trio, you found yourself more often going with just Suguru. Having him by your side made it a little easier, but you had to admit that you were missing Satoru’s presence. You could tell it was affecting Suguru too based on how quiet and reserved he was becoming.
“Toru?” you called, phone pressed to your ear. “Where are you? You were supposed to get back from your mission half an hour ago. The food is getting cold.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. This curse is taking longer to exorcise than expected. I’ll join you guys next time,” Satoru sighed over the call. He was on guard and in the middle of tracking down this special grade curse when you had called. But he never hesitated to drop everything for you even if he was in the middle of a dangerous mission.
“You said that last time…”
Satoru swore he felt his heart break listening to the disappointment in your voice. Guilt settled into his chest as he ran a tired hand through his snowy locks with a frown. If it were up to him, he’d abandon his mission in a heartbeat to be by your side but he knew he couldn’t. It killed him to know he was making you sad because you didn’t deserve that.
“I know. I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I’ll make it up to you and treat you to the best dinner you’ll ever have later. Say hi to Suguru for me, okay?” he responded softly, doing his best to soften the hurt you were feeling.
With a hum, you tried your best to sound happy over the phone. “I will. Just… come back safe, okay?”
“Always,” Satoru promised. With much restraint, he forced himself to hang up the phone.
With that, your arm fell limply at your side with your phone clenched tightly in your hand. Suguru watched the forced smile fall from your face, the disappointment evident as clear as day as you fell into a daze. Without you even saying anything, he knew his best friend had once again canceled plans. He knew that Satoru didn’t have a choice in the matter but it was still heartbreaking to see the effects that it had on you.
Suguru wasn’t blind. He suspected that your feelings for Satoru extended far beyond friendship, which made his own feelings for you that much worse knowing you were possibly in love with his best friend and not him.
You barely processed the way Suguru softly called out to you, only jumping in surprise when he placed a hand on your shoulder.
“Sorry, Sugu. I didn’t even see you walk over to me. Toru says hi,” you offered a small apologetic smile to the tall man who only smiled reassuringly to you.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry for scaring you. I take it that lunch will just be us?” he hummed, feeling his heart clench at your weak nod.
With a deep sigh, he opened his arms. “C’mere.”
Without a second to spare, you immediately wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his sturdy chest. His cologne always had a way of grounding you, the scent of sandalwood and bergamot filling your senses. You didn’t realize how tense you were until you felt your body melt into his embrace. Suguru wrapped an arm around your middle and placed a gentle hand behind your head holding you close.
“You know he would be here if he could,” he consoled.
“I know. I just miss him a lot. It’s been so long since we last saw him since he’s constantly away on missions,” you mumbled against his chest.
“At least I’m here, right? Unless you hate my company,” he lightly joked in an attempt to make you feel better.
It seemed to have worked because you leaned back in his embrace with a chuckle and looked up with those kind eyes of yours. God, he loved your eyes. “I could never hate you, Sugu.”
Feeling his heart race with your words, Suguru gently patted the top of your head with a chuckle, “Good girl.”
You felt extremely lucky to have Suguru by your side. It seemed like he always knew the right words to say. You took a moment to take in his face and your expression immediately fell.
Amongst your sadness, you failed to realize how exhausted he looked. Hues of purple and blue lingered below his eyes like he didn’t sleep in days. He had some new scratches on his face, probably from the many missions he had taken on this week alone. His eyes, although warm at you, looked distant as if he wasn’t completely here. He had also lost a considerable amount of weight.
How selfish of you to see that you weren’t the only one struggling. You knew Riko’s and Haibara’s death greatly affected Suguru and you tried your best to support him. Perhaps you weren't trying hard enough.
“When was the last time you slept?” you frowned, brushing your fingers to gently grace over his eyebags.
Suguru felt his heart quicken at your touch, feeling his neck begin to warm. Coughing to clear his throat, he reached up to remove your hand from his face and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I slept last night.”
“For how long?” you pressed.
He gave a nonchalant shrug, holding his chin in pretend thought. “A few hours maybe.”
Your lips pressed into a thin line. You knew he was lying to probably make you feel better but it only worsened your worries. Huffing, you grabbed his hand and dragged him over to your bed before forcing him to lay down. You went to pack up the unforgotten lunch, neither of you having much of an appetite anymore.
“Sleep,” you ordered, peering over your shoulder at him with hands on your hips like a mother scolding her child. “Take a nap. I’ll wake you up later before we head out.”
“Only if you nap with me.”
Turning to look at the dark haired sorcerer in shock, he only smirked back in response as he laid on his back with one hand behind his head and the other extended to you in invitation.
You bit your lip. Was it appropriate to lie in bed with him, your best friend? You, Satoru and Suguru have had sleepovers before but they always insisted on you having the bed while they slept on the floor (although that didn’t stop Satoru from trying to share the bed with you anyway which usually ended with Suguru dragging his ass down).
Looking at Suguru, you knew he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Feeling the dull ache in your bones and your tired muscles weighing you down, your body moved on its own before gingerly laying next to him, your arms pressed firmly against your chest as you laid a few inches away from him to give him space.
Letting out an exaggerated yawn, Suguru suddenly pulled you tightly against him as you let out a small yelp in surprise. He placed a kiss on the top of your head, setting his chin on top before closing his eyes in content.
You felt your heart race at his actions, a gesture you were used to from him but suddenly felt much more intimate in this position. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to focus on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat to calm the erratic pace of yours.
As a calm comfortable silence eventually ensued between you both, you found your thoughts drifting off to Satoru again. He had been gone for at least five days on this current mission. Was he eating well? Was he getting enough sleep? What if he was hurt? What if something happened and he needed help?
But you knew Satoru was too prideful to ask for help, insisting that he was the strongest and didn’t need anyone. It was true. He wasn’t called the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the modern age for nothing. However, you refused to let him take on the world alone because… your world was better with him in it.
“Suguru…” you called out quietly in case he was already asleep.
“What is it, pretty?” he hummed in response. He hadn’t fallen asleep yet.
“Do you ever get tired of being a sorcerer?”
Slowly opening his eyes, Suguru shifted so that he was laying directly next to you. Now at eye level with you, he saw just how drained you were. The sparkle that usually glimmered brightly in your eyes had now reduced to a dull flicker. He hadn’t expect you to ask that question so out of the blue. Mentally, for some time he struggled with where his beliefs stood. What did it mean to be a sorcerer and most importantly, why?
“Because I do.”
It took a few seconds for him to register the words that left your mouth. He watched as you tried to blink away tears, your small hands clenching the front of his shirt within your fists as you looked away shamefully.
“I miss how we used to be back when I first came to Jujutsu High, before we got so busy. I miss when you, Satoru and I would sneak out the dorms to get that kikufuku that he likes. I miss going to that cute cat cafe in Tokyo, the one where the kittens love swatting at your hair. I miss going to the night markets and eating until we nearly pass out into food comas.”
“I know that it’s my moral duty to protect non-sorcerers. That’s why jujutsu sorcerers like us exist. But Sugu, it’s so hard. Everyday I feel like I’m losing myself because it's a constant cycle of wake up, train, exorcise, sleep and repeat. I know I don’t have to worry about Satoru because he can hold his own so I try my best to be strong. For him, for you, and for me. I have to be strong but how strong do I have to be before I can finally breathe?”
By the end of your vent, you didn’t realize you were crying. Watching you in so much distress made Suguru’s chest twist. He desperately wished he could take away all of your pain and worries. Pulling your head back into his chest, he let you fall apart in his arms, whispering sweet nothings and comforting words into your ear as your body shook with the intensity of your sobs. After some time, your crying dwindled down to soft little sniffles.
“Run away with me.”
Silence. Suguru felt you stiffen at his words and watched as your eyes morphed into confusion. Your grip on his shirt loosened as you tried to process if you had heard him right. Staring into his brown eyes with not an ounce of a smile on his lips, you realized he was dead serious.
“Suguru, you’re joking, right?” you stuttered in disbelief.
“Does it look like I’m joking?” he replied, brushing the hair away from your eyes that was still damp from your previous tears.
“Hear me out. What if we could create a world where there were no more cursed spirits? No more having to put your life on the line for weak humans who spend every minute of their lives in ignorant bliss while you shed blood, sweat and tears daily for the sake of their so-called humanity.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at the somber tone the conversation took on. You frowned, “How exactly do we plan to do that? Is a world like that even possible?”
“I believe it is. My only wish is that you just trust me. Come with me,” he pleaded.
Suguru placed his large hand over your two small ones that still rested on his chest and gave them a small squeeze. He watched the various emotions run through your face as your eyes tormented over his request. He wasn’t completely sure if you’d give in to him but he’ll be damned if he didn’t at least try.
You didn’t know how to feel. Suguru was basically throwing you a lifeline to start over fresh and build a new life, a happier and free one. But you also knew it’d be dangerous. The moment you both disappear, you knew they’d send people out to find you both at all costs. You would have to leave everything and everyone you know behind. Everyone… including Satoru.
As if reading your thoughts, Suguru felt a pang of jealousy hit him. Even now, your thoughts were preoccupied on someone else instead of the man before you who would give his life for you. He knew you were thinking of his best friend, Gojo Satoru, the only other person in this world that understood him best other than you. But this was the one thing that he knew Satoru wouldn’t understand.
“I know you’re worried about him. Think of it this way. If we go, you’ll be able to protect him and ease his burden as the strongest sorcerer. He’ll be able to live the free life he deserves,” he coaxed you. “Isn’t that what you want?”
You thought over his words carefully before responding with hesitance.
“Of course that’s what I want. But Suguru, you’re asking for a whole lot and betting our lives on ‘what if’s. How long have you been thinking about this?” you questioned, your voice laden in deep concern.
“A while now,” he sighed, unable to meet your gaze for a minute before softening his eyes back at you.
“You don’t have to give me an answer now. I’ll respect any decision you make no matter what. For now, sleep on it and we can talk more about it after this mission to whatever village they’re sending us to tonight.”
Thoughts still heavily weighing on your mind, you relented. “...Okay.”
Nothing could have prepared Satoru for the words that left Yaga’s mouth the next day.
“112 killed by a cursed spirit revealed to be the work of Geto Suguru’s curse manipulation. Geto Suguru is hereby sentenced to death. (l/n) (y/n) has been deemed an accomplice in the crime and hereby also sentenced to death.”
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lunarmoves · 16 hours
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the words had slipped out of your mouth almost unconsciously.
they’d been festering in your mind for a while, you knew. bubbling and boiling until you felt akin to a tumultuous volcano. it was only inevitable that you’d eventually spew them out, you thought. you were just lucky it was after hours in the daycare, when it was just you and him. alone and with a finite amount of time at your fingertips.
“i beg your pardon?” sun said at the same time something cracked in his grip.
you glanced at his hand to see a broken crayon gripped in it. he didn’t let it go, his wide eyes latched onto your form from where he’d been cleaning up the drawing tables.
you swallowed thickly, a heat encompassing your neck and ears. you looked away, suddenly shy and— something else. “…never mind. forget i said anything.”
“no, friend.” he finally opened his hand to drop the broken crayon into the plastic box he was holding. then he set it down on a table and strode up to your lingering form to grip at your upper arms. something gleamed in the flickering iridescence of his optics. “what did you say?”
it was more difficult now than before with how he was acting. something squirmed in your gut, but you couldn’t avoid him and his persistence, you knew this. your eyes flicked off to the side and it felt like you had to force the words out again. “…i love you.”
there was a moment where he just stared blankly at you. then his eyes crinkled sharply and he started to laugh.
it wasn’t a kind thing—loud and harsh and echoing around the daycare in a way that made it all the more jarring. he laughed and laughed and laughed, breathless somehow and with a shrillness that hurt your eardrums. made you feel so utterly nauseous.
you could only stand there, confused and a bit hurt. he had let go of your arms in his laughter, folding them across his stomach like you’d just told him the funniest fucking joke in the world. you burned with embarrassment.
the abruptness with which he stopped laughing made you nearly flinch—cut off so suddenly like it was a recording. wiping a fake tear from his eye, sun leaned over your figure with his gaze trained on your face.
“no you don’t,” was his frigid reply. and it was so unexpected after all of… that that you snapped your gaze back up to his faceplate in confusion and a tinge of fiery offense.
“what?” you snapped out. you were bubbling and boiling—but not in the same way as before.
“you don’t love me,” he repeated with all the intent of a colossal glacier moving down a river. his white pupil gaze turned half-lidded.
you were irate and you knew it showed. “you can’t just—”
“oh but i can!” he interrupted cheerily, reaching out with a hand to boop your nose. the lighthearted action juxtaposed heavily against the fire licking at your heart.
you made an angry noise. “it’s my feelings and i’m telling you i—”
“my dear!” sun exclaimed loudly over your voice to smother it. “look at me!” he gestured down at himself—all yellow and red and bells and stripes and metal metal metal. his voice was weighed down by tons of concrete and it felt like a stab to your chest. “you don’t love me. you don’t love this.”
then he gripped onto your arms once more, face strained in a wide smile bordering on manic desperation. you felt all the simmering rage dissipate in a snap—leaving you so utterly cold.
and when he spoke, it was like his words were held together only by a tight, fraying thread. “you can’t.”
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okkennymay · 2 years
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I remember your old ectober comic so happy to see it's back >:D
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azullumi · 20 days
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"once more to see you" ; aventurine
summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet
note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.
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“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down. 
you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind. 
(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)
“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.
he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”
“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.
“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.
“i’m sure he will.”
silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so. 
aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.
you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two. 
“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.
the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.
“do what?”
“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.
“why do you think so?”
“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave. 
“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”
he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”
“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”
he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.
“i love you.”
“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed? 
you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”
you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”
“i don’t know.” he whispers.
“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.
the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear.
for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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radio-writes · 2 months
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Going on anon bc this is a bit messed up but can you write Alastor x reader where Alastor uses sex as a form of torture?
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Fuck your God and His Righteous Hand(s)
Synopsis: Hasn't Alastor always been such generous partner? Hasn't He always provided for you? Given you everything and anything you ever wanted? Except for your freedom of course.
The night you decide to run away from his graciousness, you find out just how generous he could be.
Warnings: noncon, forced relationship, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, physical harm to reader, degradation, smut, over stimulation, tentacles are used (I probably missed a lot, let me know)
Tags: Alastor x fem!reader; dead dove do not eat
MDNI
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Your heart beat loudly against your chest, your breath ragged and heavy. Branches and twigs snapped and broke and fell all around you as you ran.
Not that you could hear any of it over the overwhelming sound of static flooding your ears. 
As if the dark wasn't terrifying enough, you had to stumble through the woods with tears blurring your vision too. Arm stretched in front of you, swatting away vines in your path as you desperately tried to get away.
You had to get away.
You couldn't get away.
You could almost feel the ground shake beneath your feet. You could almost feel his breath that skimmed the back of your head. There was no use in running, but run you did anyway.
You kept running even when you felt his clawed fingers grab at your shirt; the fabric tearing easily.
You kept running even when you could hear his voice right by your ear. "I think it's in your best interest not to anger me any more, darling."
You couldn't keep running when a heavy, velvety tentacle wrapped around your ankle; your breath knocked out of you as you tumbled onto the forest floor.
Your hand outstretched, palm reaching into the darkness. It was a terrifying, unknown, and threatening darkness—but to you it still meant freedom.
That was the last clear thing you saw before you landed flat on your stomach, the weight of your failed escape weighing you down more than the dark shadow around your leg. 
He was laughing.
He was out of breath, panting almost as heavily as you were, but he was laughing.
You heard the crunch of leaves and twigs as he approached your collapsed form. No longer rushing, no longer frantic. He seemed to take his time as he walked towards you, now that he's sure you couldn't get away.
Still, the tentacle holding you down tightened—a warning not to try anything again.
Not that you could. The moment of rest allowed to you as you laid on the ground, made the pain and exhaustion of your body much too apparent for your liking. Your legs felt like led, the numerous scratches from who-knows-where all sung in a harmony of stinging pain.
Even when you knew you couldn't run anymore, your mind frantically whirled through ideas. You tried to think of something, anything, to keep away from the Radio Demon.
At least until his shoes finally came into your view; the red accents bright against the inky darkness. They stopped right by your head, and suddenly it felt too dangerous to even think.
You found the dirt and mud of the forest floor much more appealing than having to look Alastor in the eye, so you kept your head down. Your head shrunk into the ground as the man looked down on you.
"I must admit, I hadn't expected you to run." Alastor said, still a hint of laughter in his tone. Had you looked up then, you would have seen just how much of a mess you've made of the demon. His hand pushed his red hair back from his forehead, sweat trickled down the side of his neck. 
But it wasn't his unusual state of exhaustion that would have been shocking if you looked at him right now. No, what would have been surprising—what would have been unnerving— was the wild, desperate look in his glowing red eyes.
While you were scared, desperate to get away.
He was terrified, desperate to get you back.
The view of your small figure as you weaved through trees, dipping in and out of his sight had filled him with such cold, heavy dread.
Almost as much as the sight of your hand nearly meeting that of another demon's.
"Oh! But you're so filled of the unexpected today, aren't you, darling?" You could hear the spite in his tone, but you didn't dare raise your head.
You felt him step closer.
"I mean, I hadn't expected you to try to sell your soul to another demon, either." You cringed, lifting your arms over your ears as the static warped his voice terribly.
You felt a heavy weight on the back of your head. It rested there briefly, before it shoved you down further into the dirt. Your face pressed down into the mud, but you didn't dare fight back. You didn't dare move. The most reaction you allowed yourself was a small whimper of fear.
The sound fueled Alastor's rage, already barely kept under the surface of his smile. His eye twitched in annoyance. Why were you shaking? Why were you afraid? 
Shouldn't you be kissing the foot on your head right now? Shouldn't you be thanking him for saving you from making a terrible mistake? A soul as unique as yours would have been wasted on a demon like that. 
This ungrateful behavior, this attempt to leave him, just wouldn't do.
His foot left the back of your head, but it allowed no relief. The black tentacle wrapped around your leg swiftly yanked you up.
Your eyes widened in shock and your hands dug into the ground in an attempt to stay there. But it isn't a surprise that your flimsy resistance was easily broken through. The world soon turned into a dizzying blur of colors as you were lifted into the air. The trees floated from above and the sky was a muddy mess of leaves and roots, your arms hung limply above your head. The blood that now rushed to your head didn't help you in making much sense of what was happening.
But none of that mattered when your eyes finally met Alastor's.
As you were held up by your leg, upside down in the air, Alastor's usual wide smile looked like a snarling frown. His narrowed eyes did nothing to help the fear that quickly ate its way through you.
It was silent for a moment. Tension so thick in the air that you found it so terribly difficult to breathe.
But when he finally spoke, you thought to yourself how you actually preferred the suspenseful quiet.
"Have I not been the perfect partner?" Alastor asked. The static over his voice now eerily back to the usual amount. His tone was cheery, light, like this was just another early morning chit chat over breakfast between the two of you.
You couldn't bring yourself to speak.
The black appendage holding you up tightened, your skin already beginning to bruise. Although, it seemed that was the only indicator of Alastor's true mood, as the demon remained composed in front of you.
"Have I not given you everything you wanted?" He asked as he brought you closer to him.
When you didn't respond he brought his clawed hand up to your face. 
You flinched, feeling his cold skin against yours, fearing that he'd tear right through your flesh. 
But his touch was gentle. His fingers softly brushed away the mud and grime from your cheek. 
"I've bought you everything you liked. I've protected you. Fed you." His voice was so soft, soothing. Like an old radio show you would have listened to while you drifted off to a restful slumber. 
"I've even fucked you through your pathetic little heats." His claws dug into your skin. Blood gushed down your face, the scarlet liquid stung your eye even as you clenched it closed. 
"I've spared useless, disgusting sinners on your request. I've played nice for you. I've given you everything." His hand shifted from your cheek to your neck, his grip tight, threatening.
The static over his voice once again horrid as it deafened you. His eyes, now drowned in black, narrowed into a glare at your form.
Your hands flew to your throat, pulling at Alastor's fingers. "Please, I'm sorry, Al!" You begged as you struggled. Your body flailed and squirmed as he held you above him, looking almost like a fish torn from the sea, desperate to breathe.
"Oh you're sorry?" Alastor's head titled to one side as he watched you. "That absolutely changes everything then!" He said cheerily, mockingly.
The tentacle holding you up loosened out of nowhere, sending you down into the mud for a second time that night.
You managed to keep yourself up by your arms as you greedily heaved in air back into your lungs. Your head still spun from the rush of blood, and you felt like you were about to vomit out whatever flesh Alastor made you eat earlier that day.
You felt something at your chin—Alastor's microphone it seemed—and it tilted your face towards him. Your teary eyes met his cheerful ones, and your chest tightened. It's been a long time since you've even stepped outside, but you now felt more trapped than you ever have before.
He bent down, lowering his face closer to yours as he smiled down at you. 
"Since it seems like I've neglected my dear darling partner for so long that they've decided to seek attention elsewhere, I think it's best to spend some nice quality time together. Don't you think that'd be nice, sweetheart?" Alastor's voice held no threats. Promises. Only promises.
You shook your head no before he even finished talking. A desperate shaking hand reached up to him. "No, please. Al. Anywhere but the radio tower again. Please."
"Don't worry, doll. This time will a bit different." He assured.
You moved quickly, hurriedly, scrambling to your knees ready to beg at his feet. But before you could even part your lips to start, Alastor had both of you melted into shadows.
You re-materialize in the one place that haunted your dreams. The one place in Hell that truly, actually, did feel like hell to you.
Your blood felt frozen as you remained on the floor. Eyes wide in fear as you stared at the control panel.
Alastor turned his back to you, humming cheerfully, nonchalantly, as he made his way towards the main seat. "There's no need to look so alarmed," He said, you could almost hear the way his eyes rolled at your stupid expression. "We won't be having any special guests for this broadcast."
You finally tore your eyes away from the contraptions. Your gaze landing on Alastor's wide back as he slowly removed his coat. "You...you won't be torturing some poor soul?" You asked confused—and admittedly a little hopeful.
You couldn't count the horrible days he had made you sit and watch and listen as he took his sweet time tearing souls apart. How he joyously broadcasted the tortured screams for his Hell's entertainment.
Alastor's grin widened, stretched just a tad bit too far, before he turned his head to look back at you.
"Oh," Heavy static morphed his voice once more. "I didn't say that."
You didn't have time to react before his tentacles sprouted from his back, his inner shirt ripping to make way for them. They grabbed at your limbs, slithering around to get a tight hold as they pulled you to him.
A scream ripped from your throat at the sheer suddenness of it, and it made Alastor's heart leap in his chest. Oh how he loved those adorable reactions of yours.
"That is delightful! But do save your voice, dear. I do have to start us off first," He said gleefully as he turned around to fiddle with the controls.
You heart sunk. Eyes wide as the realization hit you. He wasn't going to force you to listen to someone being tortured. 
"Alastor, wait—"
"Why hello, you wayward sinners! Hope everyone's having a wonderfully hellish time right now, because boy do I have quite the treat to make your evenings even better!" Alastor spoke into the mic, his eyes gone black as he held your gaze. "Yes, indeed, this one is going to be very special." 
"Al, please—" You bit your lip, cutting off whatever pleas you were going to throw at him.
One of his tentacles pressed against your clothed mound as the others held you in the air. It quickly worked its way under your bottoms, ripping through it easily and exposing you to Alastor's lazy gaze. 
"Don't, please. I'm so sorry, Al. I won't do it again, I promise, please." You whispered, not wanting all of Hell to hear how you begged for mercy.
"What's that, darling? I'm afraid you'll have to be a little louder for our lovely, horrid, listeners." Alastor mocked, just as the tentacle between your legs started to slide between your folds. Another made quick work of your already torn shirt.
You grit your teeth and clenched your eyes closed. Stubbornly, you refused to make a single sound from Alastor's ministrations.
But you know how this ends.
You're hardly the first soul he had broken during a broadcast.
You, of all people, knew that well.
Another one of his appendages slithered its way to your core. It teased at the entrance, pushing, testing your hole.
"I hope everyone has a lovely time!" You hear Alastor speak to his listeners, just as a scream ripped through your lips.
You weren't nearly wet enough to take him. Your walls resisted, but not enough for his strength. The black shadow pushed its way deep into you, others coiled at your legs to spread them apart. One remained by your clit, lazily flicking along. 
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You cried as Alastor fucked his tentacle deep into you. The harsh thrusts sending your ample chest bouncing.
Alastor didn't respond, he rarely ever does to his victims. He preferred to let the song of their anguish play uninterrupted. But he did find himself paying more attention than he usually did to the way your body reacted to him.
His gaze locked at the way his black shadow disappeared into your slick hole. How it came back to light drenched in your juices, only to push back in harsher. How your little pussy stretched wide around his tentacle to accommodate its size.
His eyes traveled further up, watching as he wrapped one tentacle around your breast and squeezed. A lovely horrified sound coming from your lips from his actions.
He watched as you sobbed, attention fully on him. Only on him. And he couldn't deny the rather unfamiliar heat the pooled in his stomach at that fact.
The tentacle at your clit moved faster, pressing down just the slightest bit more at that little bud. You tried your damndest to silence the screams from your throat, but as your mouth fell open, you could only do so much.
The coil in your gut snapped easily. Alastor tightening his hold on you as he kept your spasming form in the air for his entertainment.
Your juices flowed down his dark appendages as it kept up the pace. Tears forming in your eyes as they gave you no reprieve, no time recover.
You fight against his hold, aching to close your thighs and catch your breath but the dark shadows merely pulled them apart wider. You pulled at you arms, wanting to push away the damned things from your core but you were merely held back the same way.
"Wait, please, stop." You were barely able to form a coherent sentence. The tentacle inside you opting to curl just the right amount to hit that soft, perfect spot inside you with every thrust. That spot that Alastor knew drove you wild when he fucks you through your heat, after a lot of begging on your end, at least.
You clenched down on it, that being the only thing you could think of that you could still do to slow this down. It unsurprisingly did nothing but make you feel more of each drag and pull against your walls.
Another orgasm is stolen from you as a tentacle began to grind itself up and down your sloppy slit, drenching itself in your slick as it attempted to join the one already fucking you. Your screams broadcasted for all of Pride Ring to hear.
It doesn't stop. He doesn't stop. His dark shadows held you still, fucking into your cervix without mercy, playing with your clit, your breasts. Pulling yet another sloppy orgasm from you.
"No more," You heaved. Alastor's assault seeing no end near. "I can't. Al, please." You begged.
You craned your neck over to look back at the demon. You find his gaze no longer on you or your body, but on the papers in front of him. His script. 
He was idly jotting down notes, chin rested on the palm of his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He almost looked bored, but the twitch of his ear as you called out his name showed you he was still paying you some attention. 
"Alastor, please," You tried again. "I am sorry. I won't do it again. I won't leave you again." You sobbed.
The tentacle inside you pulled out to your brief relief, only for it to slam harshly, deeper back into you. It's pace at breakneck speed that even with the tight hold around your limbs, your body was moved with every push and pull. 
"Oh, I'm sure you won't, darling." He finally replies to your pleas, although he didn't even glance your way. He continued correcting his notes, your sweet begging made for a wonderfully sweet background song. "Because why would you ever leave someone as generous as me?"
He ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. Your release dripped and drenched the floor of his radio tower. You begged til your throat was raw for some reprieve, for some forgiveness. But Alastor went about his way around the studio. Fixing this and that. Barely paid you any mind.
It was only when you've stopped pulling against his hold. When your legs had gone slack in the air, and your screams faded into whimpers did Alastor finally approach the control panel again.
"Wasn't that just darling! A wonderful performance, if I do say so myself," He laughed into his microphone. "I'm sure you lewd folks enjoyed yourself as much as our star of the night here, so make sure to keep an ear out for my next broadcast!"
His eyes finally land on your exhausted body. Your chest heaved with every labored breath as Alastor's tentacles finally slowly pulled out of you. A wet shlop of your juices dripping out as it did. 
He slowly lowered you onto the ruined floor, and your dazed eyes locked with his.
"There will definitely be more of where that came from." He said, less of his usual cheer. His tone lower. Threatening—no, promising.
You didn't move—you couldn't move—from the floor. You simply watched as Alastor shut down his broadcast and took his time straightening out and cleaning up his work station. He was humming cheerfully, seeming to be in a much better mood than when the night had begun.
When he was finally satisfied, you watched as he walked to where you were, stopping by your feet as he smiled down at you.
"Well, you've definitely seen better days." A laugh track followed his mockery. 
"I'm sorry." You heaved out. You hoped this was the end of it. You hoped he would just throw you back and lock you in his room again. Anything but stay in this wretched radio tower. "I'm yours. I won't try to run anymore."
Alastor chuckled at your response, moving to rest his cane against the wall before he reached up to his neck. He slowly loosened his bowtie and unbuttoned his shirt. "Oh I know you know that." He said waving off your words as if they didn't matter.
He lowered himself over you, his towering figure blocking out what little light you had. "But I'm afraid I need a bit of a reminder about who you belong to." 
His hand made quick work of his trousers, pulling his hardened cock free.
His claws were at your waist and they pulled your limp body closer to him. Not that you offered any resistance.
"You can do one more for me can't you darling?" He wasn't really asking.
You can't. But you nod your head anyway.
He pushed into you easily. Your previous releases coated him and allowed a slicker entry. 
Your back arched despite exhaustion, and Alastor drank in your pained expression. "There's a good girl. Always ready to ruin herself for her lover." You heard him say. "Don't worry, I won't make this long."
But of course that was a lie. He pulled back so slowly, revering in the way your drenched walls felt around him; how they clenched around his cock like how he saw them do around his tentacle. Then he thrusted himself back harshly into your sloppy hole, forcing what little sound you could still make out from your lips.
He fucked into you, slowly, deeply, maddeningly. Making sure you both felt each and every drag of his heavy cock.
He wasn't one to crave sex as much as most of hell, but when it was with you—his precious partner, he had to admit he didn't hate the sensations all too much. And if it meant reminding you who was in control, if it meant making you owe him, making you dependent on him, making you crave him, then it was all the more enjoyable to see you fucked out and speared on his dick.
One of his hands made its way to the back of your neck, pulling you up into his lap. He fucked up into you as your head lolled to the side, struggling to keep your body upright.
Alastor drank in your expression. Your glazed over eyes, the tear stains that smeared through the mud and blood along your cheeks, the drool dripping from your split lips. Yes, this is what you deserved for even daring to leave him. This is what you needed to be reminded on just how good a partner he is.
He wrapped a tentacle around your hips, keeping you steady as he pounded his cock into you. His free hand now moved between you, to your clit.
Your hips spasmed as he drew quick circles on the bud, but you fought the instinct to squirm away. You wouldn't leave him. 
You can't leave him.
You know that now.
Alastor's grin widened when he noticed your actions. "There's a good girl." He purred again, leaning down to your neck to lick up your skin.
"Let me feel you cum on my cock now, darling. Let me feel how much you want me to fill you up." He whispered, his sweet voice right by your ear as he pressed down harder on your clit.
You whined, tears pouring from your eyes once more as he tore yet another orgasm from your weakened body.
Your fluids drenched his dick, soiling his pants as you came around him. Alastor all but tore your skin as he gripped you tight. His own pace finally picked up.
You felt him twitch inside you, before the hot feeling of his seed soothed your battered cunt. 
"Tell me, would that scum have let you cum like this?" Alastor whispered in your ear. He held you tightly, his head still at the crook of your neck.
"No," You responded weakly. You felt him twitch inside you again.
You tried your hardest not to think back to the poor sinner, ripped limb from limb in a blink of an eye. Their body likely still stomped down into the mud of the forest floor.
"Would any other wretched soul be able to give you what I give you?" Alastor asked again. He playfully nipped at your ear.
"No," You responded again.
"So who do you think can treat you, treasure you, best, my dear?" He pulled back, his smug smile loomed over you as he held your chin for you to keep his gaze.
"You, Alastor. Only you can treat me this good." The words were bitter in your mouth
You hadn't sold him your soul. And he would never ask for it.
But you were his and his alone, nonetheless.
"And don't you ever forget it." He mused, pushing you back down to the floor as he began to fuck himself inside of you again. His previous release slowly pushed out with every slow thrust.
"Be still for me, darling," He whispered sweetly. "Let me have my fill of you for now." 
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I don't usually write smut but this request sent me haywire. Hope I didn't disappoint, anon! I loved your demented request ♪
1K notes · View notes
morganitering · 4 months
Text
Because I'm the Weakest
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Pairing: yandere!Satosugu x fem!reader
Warnings: Rape/non-con, Dead dove, darkfic, dissociation, trauma, rape fantasy, rape aftermath, vomiting (not during sex), unhealthy relationships, non-consensual drug usage, drugged sex, canon typical violence, sexism, implied/referenced alcohol usage/abuse
Contains: F/M/M, spitroasting, oral sex, penis in vagina sex, blow jobs, face-sitting, come play, overstimulation, voyeurism, slight size kink, humiliation/degradation, vaginal fingering, mentioned Nanami.
Word count: ~6,5k
Summary: Growing up as a female sorcerer has not been easy, especially when you are overshadowed by two prodigies. You used to form a tight-knit friend group, but now in adulthood everyone battled their own demons whether it be a god complex or feelings of inferiority. Gojo Satoru revives a group chat that was almost long forgotten, inviting you and his boyfriend for a long weekend, just like the old days. Before the regrettable night, you wouldn't have ever thought that you'd need to raise a fist against a friend.
A/N: Hey everyone, another fic but this time featuring our two favorite dudes with insanity turned to the max. This fic is once again full of warnings and proceed with caution and read the tags! Remember to take care of yourself. Otherwise enjoy and feel free to like and comment <3
read on ao3 PART II
“Booring,” Satoru complained audibly as he looked through the streaming services’ different movies and series. The little icons changed from bombshell babes to twisted faces with titles written in blood. He was sprawled over the corner of a ridiculously huge couch and he was wiggling his foot as a nervous tick of his. He wasn’t wearing his usual garb, instead he had opted for something more relaxed and comfortable.
“If you’re so bored you should help us out in the kitchen,” Suguru sighed, his black hair draping over his shoulders, still slightly wet from the shower he had taken earlier. When you had pointed out that he was leaving droplets of water everywhere where he went, Suguru had just smiled at you and told you that it’s better for hair to air dry.
He held a knife in his right hand and the other one held onto a cucumber to keep it in place. His fingers were slender but by no means unmanly. Suguru wasn’t too fixated on the vegetable in front of him, chopping away with confidence only experience would provide.
“And where would the fun be in that since I got you two as my private chefs?” Satoru pouted as he shoveled candy in his face.
“You’re going to lose your appetite, if you eat candy now,” you chimed in, poking the halloumi that kept on sizzling on the pan. The water evaporated in a mist that warmed your cheeks in the cool apartment. It wasn’t actually cold in the open plan kitchen, but you had spent long enough in front of the appliances to break a sweat.
“I’d eat it anyway,” the white haired man whined as he got up from the couch finally settling on a tv series that started playing mindlessly in the background. “So, what am I supposed to do?” He asked after grabbing a piece of pomegranate from a small see through bowl. He walked behind you both like a shark, eyeing the ingredients and you, uncomfortably close.
“Set the table and learn to bitch less,” you joked.
“You wound me,” Satoru said, feigning sadness, but did as he was told.
The three of you were residing in an apartment that Satoru had bought himself from one of the skyscrapers surrounding Tokyo. After Jujutsu High it had gotten increasingly hard for the three of you to meet as adult responsibilities weighed heavily on both of their shoulders, – especially Satoru’s, but you saw the similar pain carried in Suguru just as well.
You were not weak, but you could not compare to the two prodigies. On the days when you felt down, the pain of third wheeling constantly ate you up, sometimes so much so that you rather left the two men talking together in the group chat. It furthered the wedge between you and them, until the messages became sparse and you almost could pretend not to know them.
It had been six months since the last time you met, but one day Satoru broke the silence and a notification popped up from your shared chat. It had taken you by a surprise, you were vaguely aware that even him and Suguru had issues with fitting each other in their lives, due to individual missions and what not. So the fact that Satoru decided to deliberately send a message to you as well, got you anxiously excited. He reached out to you. You. A high school friend that barely kept in touch with him.
“Guys! I refuse to work this weekend so come to my place. Let’s have a get together like the good old times ❤️ ❤️?? A little sleepover if you will!”
“Lol what about the higher ups?” Suguru had asked, typing back way too fast.
“Actually never mind I don’t want to be made into an accomplice in your crimes,” Suguru had continued.
“Am I invited too?” You had asked, hands shaking slightly as you stared at the bright screen, already tucked into bed. It was late, but Satoru was a known night owl.
“Damn, what have I done to earn this type of reputation 😭” Satoru complained, reacting to both your and Suguru’s message. You could hear his voice as if he was there in the same room as you.
“Of course you are invited, silly. I wouldn’t send this here if you weren’t.”
So now you were there, living an almost ridiculously domestic life with the couple that you had been hanging out with ever since you were sixteen. They had not changed too much. They were still both tall and slender but years had rid them of the rest of the baby fat as they started to resemble more men than boys, vigorous fighting showing in their bodies in an ever gained muscle mass. You supposed you were the same too. Battle hardened. That’s the word you were looking for.
You were just about to sit down but you saw long limbs reaching out to the white chair pulling it backwards. You looked at Satoru with a raised eyebrow. He was acting weird.
“What? I’m a host. I’m being hospitable,” he said, voice melodic as he pressed his hand on your shoulder to pet your arm reassuringly a few times. Suguru laughed quietly as he sat down next to Satoru.
You ate and drank, buzzing with energy. It was like no time had passed and you wondered why did you ever stop talking to these two. After a drink or two you were brave enough to ask for some hot gossip. Like every high school friend, you went through old drama, like how ugly Nanami’s haircut used to be.
“Has Nanami found love yet?” You had asked. He seemed like the type to find a decent relationship first out of all of you, but to everyone’s surprise it was these two men.
“Do you still have a crush on him? I heard that he’s quite a looker nowadays” Suguru bounced a question back at you with a smile tugging on his lips. It was that one expression that looked a tad too kind.
“No, I don’t. I was just curious,” you tried to move on from the subject. You did not really discuss your relationship history with these two, at least not anymore.
“Why?” Suguru asked, leaning on the hand he had placed on the table. The atmosphere felt off, it was as if he was challenging you. You looked at Satoru who seemed to be equally as interested in your answer.
You scratched your neck awkwardly.
“I- I think he’s too soft,” you said blushing at the implication of your words. You had turned your gaze to your almost empty bowl, your mind going to improper places. As you were buried in your embarrassment, Satoru and Suguru shared a silent look with each other.
At some point during the evening you had moved to the white haired man’s bedroom. He wanted to show you the view from the window since he lived on the 30th floor. It was magnificent. The busy streets were bustling even during the night and you stared at the small lights that blinked in different colors. Your eyes followed the cars that swerved left and right as some people were gathered up in front of bars for a smoke break. You barely could make them out from the height you were in.
Satoru’s bedroom was basically the size of someone’s apartment. The bed was huge and sleek, unlike the common area. This room was a lot moodier and darker and it actually showed that he lived here, small bits and bobs decorating shelves and few paintings were hung up on the wall that you reckoned were Suguru’s taste.
Your drinks had changed from light cocktails to expensive red wine that you were almost scared to consume, but when Satoru saw hesitation in you he made a point to assure you that it’s all on him and after that almost instantaneously Suguru asked you something, leaving you no room to overthink.
The uneasiness still followed you. It was a gut feeling that you were really bad at listening to. You did not believe you were in danger – at least you’d like to think that as a jujutsu sorcerer you’d be trained to recognize threats by now. Luckily the red wine relaxed you, lulling you to the feeling of safety.
The volume of music was loud as the three of you listened to some throwback songs that still made you shamelessly want to dance. You were celebrating embarrassingly in Satoru’s room laughing, swaying your bodies along with the beat. It was as if you were in a club, except this was way more intimate. The world spinned around you, the warm lights mixed with the glimpses of the night sky and the longer outlines of your friends. You felt light, time slowing down and going overspeed at the same time as if you were alone on the highway. Your friends’ smiles stretched on their faces, eyes twinkling manically as both of the men appeared to you in double. Eventually when you tired each other out the whole group collapsed on the bed still humming happily. Satoru’s bed was plush and big enough to have room for the three of you.
You noted the way the silk felt like a warm hug underneath you, the ceiling moving like a slithering snake’s skin on savannah.
Satoru was lying on his back on the left side of you, his white hair now more tousled than before whereas Suguru was on the right leaving you in the middle of the two men.
“I think we should play a question game,” Satoru’s voice was bordering on a whisper. The music had stopped.
You stayed silent. “Satoru, I’m not feeling too good,” you managed to say. The bed was a ship and you were a passenger of the sea.
“I didn’t know you’re that lightweight,” Satoru’s hand reached out to your head to pet you, the gesture meant to lower your guards, but in your ever increasing discomfort, his touch only managed to make your skin tingle with aversion.
“Just humor us for a bit, it could be like the good old days, right?” Suguru argued, flashing a dead smile at you.
“Okay, whatever. Ask me something,” you rolled your eyes, too tired to fight them in your weird mental and physical stage.
“Hmm,” Satoru turned to his side to face you, his blue gaze piercing yours as you were still laying on your back. You had no idea when he had removed his sunglasses. You heard Suguru moving next to you as well. “What do you mean by Nanami being too soft?” The way Satoru laid down the question was impish.
The tone of the conversation had taken a full one-eighty and you opened your mouth to answer with only lies on the tip of your tongue, but then you decided against that. Those two had a very good bullshit radar.
“Do you want to hear what I think?” Satoru grinned playfully as he licked his plump lips once.
“I think Nanami would bore you out of your mind, missionary on Mondays without the lights on? Ugh, I wouldn’t want that for my worst enemy,” he said, laughter hollow full of malice. You couldn’t believe your own ears.
“I think you want it rough and behind that tough girl act, there’s an insatiable woman with some wild fantasies,” he blabbered his obscene thoughts. “Tell me, have you ever had sex with two men?” Gojo’s voice was loud and it was as if he was talking to you from a speaker that had been locked in another room. He was too close, too far away and simultaneously too here.
“What the-” you got cut off.
“Don’t curse. It’s unseemly from a woman,” Geto said calmly.
“Answer me,” Gojo demanded. During high school you would have described Gojo’s eyes as a beautiful spring day. You would have said that he reminded you of blue skies with perfectly white fluffy clouds, but now his eyes had turned to something much paler and darker. They reminded you of deep untouched snow drifts turned to blue in the moonlight as they sparkled ominously, waiting for the first little animal that dared to break the pristine condition.
“What did you do to me?” Your voice was not your own, it was weak, the accusation of your words turning dull as the red wine you had drank earlier sanded the edges away.
“Nothing permanent,” Geto said.
His admittance striked terror in you. Realization hit you, you were not safe here and you felt the familiar warmth flowing in you like a second nature. You manipulated the cursed energy, channeled it and let it flow steadily in your body guiding the power to your hands, but something in it felt unstable, it felt like a chord that was almost broken just barely connecting.
“Did you know that some drugs really affect the ability to use cursed energy? Not that it would matter in your case,” Geto explained, his voice overflowing around you, sticking to your skin like honey.
“Fuck you!” You yelled letting out a gust of wind to both sides, throwing the two men away from you. They landed nimbly to the floor, like cats, as you yourself hopped up from the bed, your vision blurred, walls moving back and forth, small figurines on the shelves changing color others dancing in front of your eye lids. Your head ached, pain banging against your skull, gnawing at the nerve endings that sent panic infused messages across your body, screaming: Stop moving!
“Oh so you want to spar? Go on then, show me what you have,” Geto purred.
It was a pathetic attempt in your current state. Your feet took you towards the door that Geto had come to protect. Hands and feet clashed together in close combat as you drew your cursed energy that was flickering unevenly in your body. Every time you got too close to escaping either Geto or Gojo kicked you further away.
The white haired bastard wasn’t even using his infinity which only added salt to your wounds. He deliberately chose to prance around you, letting you at times touch him a wild smile on his face. There was no cursed energy, no flashy techniques, just you and two overpowered men.
“Do you remember what they said in school when facing someone stronger than you?” Gojo asked, dodging your fist.
“Don’t be a hero,” Geto grabbed your arm and twisted it painfully behind you. “Contact someone better equipped to handle it,” he said and shoved you forwards with a force so great that you staggered towards Gojo’s table with the MacBook wobbling with force earning a “Hey, that’s my computer!” protest from the man himself.
The lights went out with a sound of shattering glass, leaving the three of you enveloped in the darkness, only city lights illuminating the room. Disorientated by the sudden change in environment you froze, breathing heavily as the two men practically surrounded you. Gojo appeared in front of you not a hair out of place.
“And with that, you’re dead. You really should not get distracted during training,” the white haired man shared his advice talking to you with the same tone he used on his pupils. “Truce?” He offered his hand.
You looked up. There was something sinister about the way they hovered over you. Geto’s beautiful prince-like features had turned harsh and angular, the shadows sharpening his face even more. You swallowed a bunch of bile, the effects of forcing yourself to move taking place.
“The power disparity is too big,” Geto said. He almost pitied you. You were a smart girl, you’d figure the best move soon.
You grabbed the hand bitterly. Gojo helped you up and Geto wrapped his arm around your waist when you were about to fall again.
“Careful,” he mumbled, his hand trailing underneath your shirt. His touch felt cold against your burning skin that was damp from sweat. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” he taunted.
“Take her shirt off. I’ve waited long enough,” Gojo said impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor.
“Always so demanding,” Geto chuckled as he worked your shirt up, unclasping your bra unceremoniously, your breasts now free for the two men to ogle.
“Perfect tits,” Gojo said as he pawed at you and played with your nipples. You were completely overwhelmed and out of energy. Luckily, you did not have to stand on your own as Geto helped you to stay up his hands unzipping your jeans.
“Why me?” You squeaked your head drooping in defeat as you looked at Geto’s hand that vanished underneath your panties, your trousers still on you. Your question went unanswered.
“Satoru I think you might have been right about your theory,” You felt Geto’s smile on your neck as he referenced the earlier conversation regarding Nanami.
“Really? Is she wet?” Gojo asked curiously.
“Soaking,” Geto said as he explored your soft folds with ease. “Did fighting us make you feel better about what’s going to happen? At least you can tell your friends that you did not break easy,” Geto mumbled onto your skin pressing kisses to your neck, his hand still working on you going up and down tantalizing on your slit.
Gojo dropped to his knees pulling down the rest of your clothes. A whimper left your mouth as you shook your head powerlessly.
“Lift her leg up,” Gojo instructed. Geto slid his hand behind your right knee, lifting it up till you were wobbling on one foot as you leaned on him for support. The white haired man had his lips slightly apart as he looked in awe at the sight unfolding in front of him. His mouth was watering as Geto maneuvered his hand back to your folds, spreading them in front of Gojo’s face so that his boyfriend could take a long hard look at everything you were offering.
You saw the gears turning in Gojo’s head as his expression turned to a mischievous one. “I want her to sit on my face,” he licked his lips and made his way to the bed, throwing the shirt on the floor.
“Can you move?” Geto asked as he let go of your leg, holding onto your trembling body. He tipped your head towards him, his face looking almost worried. It reminded you of the old times, but this was not the old Suguru. This was someone new. Twisted.
He helped you to the bed, where Gojo had been waiting, completely naked, his chest heaving in anticipation. Your eyes scanned him from head to toe, stopping at his cock that had already started to curve upwards. It already looked big, bigger than anything you had ever taken.
“Like what you see baby? Cause me too,” Gojo said jokingly. “Well, come here then or do you want to fuck us dry? Because I’m fine with that,” he hurried you, the threat looming over you.
You climbed on top of him, saddling his face. Gojo’s hands immediately grabbed at your ass, pulling you towards his mouth. You could imagine the pink tip of his tongue trying out where you were the most sensitive. He was too impatient to tease you, quickly finding the bundle of nerves that was begging for his attention. He lapped at it as obscenely wet noises filled the room. Gojo sucked on your clit and you moaned loudly, throwing your head back, a sheen layer of sweat on you.
You felt him hum into your cunt as you felt the weight shift behind you on the mattress, Geto’s hand moving on Satoru’s length, pumping it roughly.
“You see, Satoru here is a bit of a munch. He is loud during the day, but put a cock in his mouth and it works wonders at silencing him. Apparently he likes the taste of pussy too,” Geto said with a devious smile on his lips. Gojo groaned animalistically into your wet heat as the black haired man felt his own hardness straining against his boxers. It took everything in his power to not to take off his clothes and fuck you till you were cock drunk and babbling incoherently, but he had too much fun playing with you.
“How does it feel like having the strongest sorcerer lapping you up like a regular man?” Geto’s voice was just a hush in your ear. “Men and women around the globe are going to be jealous when they hear that Gojo Satoru wanted to stick his dick in you,” Geto taunted you both as his hand focused on rotating around Satoru’s tip, spreading out the drops of precome around his cock. Satoru bucked his hips up involuntarily.
You came. Hard. You thrashed around Gojo’s head as the man between your legs held onto you stubbornly, licking and sucking through your orgasm. You felt something warm trickling straight to his face as the pressure in the lower half of your body exploded. Your voice was high pitched and desperate as you rode his face till you were sore, your already weak legs giving out.
Gojo pushed you off of him, gasping for air, pupils blown out in arousal. His face glistened in your juices and his saliva.
“You know what, for a man who’s shaming me for being talkative, you sure speak a lot yourself Suguru,” he pointed out. Suguru laughed, honest to god laughed, his eyes squinting contently as Satoru pulled him into a kiss.
There was something incredibly erotic watching the two men, knowing that Geto would taste the remnants of you as their lips smacked together messily. Their bodies tangled together, black hair flowing around white as Gojo buried his hand in Geto’s luscious strands. Gojo pulled his boyfriend’s face up gently exposing the bobbing Adam's apple that he kissed reverently. It was now Geto’s turn to saddle Gojo.
“I think you need to take your clothes off. Give her a little show,” Satoru said, biting into the skin on Suguru’s clavicle as his hands fumbled with the black haired man’s belt that opened with a clink.
Geto pulled his black t-shirt over his head, his taut muscles flexing. It felt like forever when Gojo caressed the man on top of him, his face in a constant grin. He took down the boxers inch by inch until Geto’s cock sprang out after being suppressed inside his clothes for too long.
“Get on fours,” Gojo ordered as you clumsily did what he told you to. He moved behind you whereas Geto took place in front of you.
“Arch your back.”
You stretched yourself, lowering your torso and propping your butt up almost as if you were offering yourself on a silver platter. Gojo’s hand came down to your ass with force making your body jerk when he dug his nails on the soft skin.
“Wow, you must fuck a lot of dudes judging by how low you can go. If I knew you were a whore, I would have bent you over earlier,” he laughed, his finger prodding on your entrance.
Geto pulled you from your hair. It wasn’t the nice kind of pain that came when one would grab them near the scalp; instead it stung like hell, when Geto yanked your head up, putting you on the perfect level of his cock.
Gojo inserted one finger simultaneously inside you and almost immediately added another. You whined as his fingers scissored you open, your lips almost touching the head of Geto.
“You know, I get to lie with this amazing man every day. Show him the same respect as I do,” Gojo said. Had you not been caught up in their fucked up power play, their love for each other would have truly warmed your heart.
Geto’s thumb stroked your cheek as if to apologize for what was about to happen. He let his hand trail down to your bottom lip, swiping across it gently.
“Open.”
Satoru pushed his hand almost knuckles deep into you, a guttural moan making its escape from your lips as he used his hand to finger fuck you. Geto used your opening mouth to his advantage to stuff his cock in you. He was huge, your jaw already hurting. His tangy taste spreaded in your mouth as he softly rocked back and forth, not wanting to choke you just yet.
You hollowed out your cheeks and focused on the tip of his cock as you used one of your hands to touch what you could not fit. Geto’s eyes were half lidded as he guided your head to a rhythm that he liked as you squirmed underneath Gojo’s touch.
Gojo removed his hand from you leaving you empty, you almost missed the sensation of him, but soon felt the man behind you poking your folds with something much bigger than his fingers. You mewled in panic when he entered you, your eyes widening in shock. God he was huge.
“Focus. Eyes up here,” Geto said, patting your cheek with an open palm. The way you looked up at him made Suguru feel close to high, your pupils widened to the size of a plate, eyes glistening in tears that you held back, still holding onto a sliver of pride. Brave girl, he thought to himself.
Gojo fucked you sloppily, squelching, slapping and your gurgling filling the room as both the men used your body to chase their own highs. You felt like you were drowning and when one withdrew the other one rammed into you without a second thought. It was hard to keep your attention on Geto when his boyfriend did everything in his power to make your task at hand challenging, when his long cock grazed upon that one spot inside you from time to time.
“I’m going to finish in your mouth,” Geto was out of breath, his grip tightened around your skull. Gojo groaned behind you with his fingers digging into your hips. You were sure that you’d have handprints tattooed on your skin by the end of this night.
Geto’s movement got erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat making you gag around him painfully. The black haired man relished in the wet warmth your mouth provided him. He was panting as pleasure coursed through him, your despaired moans only driving him further. Hot stripes of his come coated your mouth. You wanted to spit it out, or swallow it, anything to get rid of it as your face soured in disgust.
“Keep it in your mouth,” he advised as he pulled out of you. You almost wanted to spit it on his face as an act of defiance. Geto smiled at the confrontational look on your face as if he knew what you were thinking. “Good girl,” he purred when you had decided not to go against him.
Gojo flipped you quickly around to lie on your back, your legs floating in the air awkwardly as he entered back into you swiftly. He pulled you in a feverish kiss, his soft lips slightly swollen. His tongue prodded inside your mouth, Suguru’s come spreading into his mouth as you explored each other. It felt disgusting, playing with someone’s fluids like this, but somehow it made your cunt clench around your white haired high school friend.
There was something deeply primal in the way Gojo drove into you, his head almost resting on yours as he fucked you deep and hard. You were vaguely aware of Geto’s eyes following the act in front of him, admiring the way Satoru’s muscles moved with every move, drinking up the disheveled look on you.
Satoru’s hips came to halt as he plastered his seed on your walls, making sure that he wasn’t too deep, keeping his thrusts shallow enough so he could see him leaking out of your used cunt.
“Fuck,” he breathed out, spent, the after glow warming him. “You didn’t come right?” He asked you, feeling slightly tired.
“No, but it doesn’t matter,” you rasped out your throat feeling hoarse after the abuse it had taken. Frankly you wanted to sleep as well.
“Suguru, can you help her out? I want to watch,” Gojo said as he fluffed the pillow underneath him to get into a comfortable position as if he was about to open the television and watch his favorite show.
“If you hold onto her other leg,” he said as he propped your left leg around his waist and Gojo took hold of your right one. You were helpless and unable to protect yourself when you tried to squirm away from the two devious men.
Geto’s nimble fingers gathered up Satoru’s come that was trickling down between your cheeks. He pushed it back inside you, moving his fingers slowly without a hurry in the world. It reminded you of the calm before a storm.
“You’re going to give us one more right?” Geto’s voice was reassured when he added another finger into you, thumb trailing to your sensitive clit. He knew just what to do, to get you fast back to the edge that you were teetering on earlier, already feeling overstimulated from the rough treatment you had gotten. His fingers made a come-hither movement hitting precisely your g-spot.
Gojo held onto you whispering sweet nothings to your ear, his thumb caressing your thigh. He was gentle, his touch light, eyes half lidded as he enjoyed the small whimpers coming from your mouth. He spoke to you, told you how much he had wanted you from the beginning. He spoke of how he saw that you wanted him – them. Gojo let you know how well you were doing, taking what they dished out to you, how you were brave and oh so good. He attempted to bury you in his twisted love, six feet underground, anxiety and arousal covering Geto’s fingers.
It was too overwhelming. Gojo next to you, Geto between your legs, your world still spinning around you, overstimulating touch and a coil about to snap. You wailed hollowly as you came apart on Suguru’s fingers one last time.
***
It was deep in the night, around two AM to be precise. You had shot your eyes open as the wave of nausea hit you. The two men had fallen asleep cuddling each other, limbs tangled on each other. You got up as quickly as you could, your head ache punishing you from your choices, stomach churning dangerously.
With a pitter patter from your naked feet, you carried yourself to the extravagant bathroom, barely having time to put the lights on as your nausea took over.
You doubled over the toilet seat, emptying your stomach of your earlier dinner and whatever else your friends had slipped in your drink. You held onto your hair desperately trying not to make a mess. A warm hand landed on your fist bunching up the rest of your hair gently.
“It’s okay. I’m here,” Suguru said affectionately, stroking your head. “Let it all out. You’re going to feel better soon.”
The acidic taste filled your mouth once again as if it was reacting to Suguru’s company. Your body forced you to throw up stomach fluids after having nothing else in it.
The way he took care of you brought up memories of the times you had taken one too many drinks, after your partner of that time had broken up with you. You remembered the way he had held you crying, snot and tears covering his shirt as you broke down.
The sound of water pouring into a glass echoed on the walls and you heard the rattle of an ice drawer disturbing the silence.
“You should drink this,” Satoru showed up leaning on the door frame, offering the glass to you. You hesitated.
“It’s just water.” He said and took a sip as if it would prove you anything. “See?”
You grabbed it from his hand, when you decided that you didn’t care anymore, downing the entire glass in almost one swing. The cold scraped your tender throat punishingly. You should have drank more slowly.
Waking up after the night had turned to day, the windows no longer covered by the blinds. You did not remember a lot of the act, except vomiting, but that came afterwards. The city was already moving fast, a new day offering new opportunities and new exciting journeys.
You felt physically a lot better, still weird, but you no longer felt like collapsing to the ground nor did you see things twice. It was almost like you had a hangover. You looked around Gojo’s room rolling on the bed that was empty feeling relieved of having space.
There were still signs of yesterday's fighting, but random shards had been taken care of and the lightbulb changed into a working one. You had your own pajamas on you, not having the slightest idea when and how you got into your clothes. Feeling nervous you got out of the bedroom walking to the toilet to empty your bladder. As you wiped, you felt around your crotch, searching for the remainder of different body fluids. You had cleaned yourself up. Or someone had.
You washed your hands, scrubbing them together with fervor, pumping out a heap of soap on your palm.
You repeated it once.
Twice.
Until your skin was scrubbed dry.
You looked at yourself in the mirror just to see familiar features, but not anyone you could recognize. You opened the overnight bag that you had left on the side of the sink to brush your teeth and spit out the foaming toothpaste. A smell of dough frying on the pan wafted to your nose as you heard commotion from the kitchen.
You took steps to the living room to find Suguru in front of the stove flipping pancakes as Satoru was hunched over a pile of strawberries nibbling on them happily. Upbeat rock played in the background as the two men joked around and chatted. You stared at them, something seething in you.
“Good morning! We’re making brunch,” Suguru exclaimed as he flipped a pancake over “Do you want coffee or tea?”
Nails bit into your skin as you clenched your fists together hard, your knuckles turning to white as anger turned on like a switch. You wanted to rage, go absolutely berserker, throw things at them, scream how dare you over and over. Some part of you also wanted to forget the night, pretend that it’s a nightmare, sit down with them to eat some fucking brunch.
“What if I tell someone,” it wasn’t really a question that you wanted them to answer.
“And what would you achieve with that?” Gojo retorted, popping a ridiculously big strawberry in his mouth, leaving the green stem outside as he bit down, the trash floating to the table.
Suguru placed the now ready pancake onto the white plate. He grabbed the black ladle to pour more mixture on the warm pan, before he started speaking calm but collected. It was this matter of fact tone that he used as if he was disappointed in your stupidity since he was always speaking the truth. The audacity of men or something like that.
“You know first hand how some clans look down on women, not believing that women should be sorcerers in the first place. So how do you think these powerful people are going to react to you saying that two of the strongest sorcerers assaulted you?” He mused, the conversation reminding you of ethics class where people discussed your human rights as a starter dish, completely disregarding that they were talking about real lives.
You knew how those types of people would react. They would see it only as normal, a woman’s place as a breeding machine, your sorcerer blood and womb more precious than your soul. They would argue that you were lucky or maybe that you had asked for it. Besides, it wasn’t exactly atypical of people in your line of work going insane, the trail of dead comrades keeping one up for countless nights. And who better to take anger out on than the people who are perceived as less.
“Even if they did believe you, it wouldn’t change our life at all. They need our skills and well, his money,” Suguru continued as Satoru grabbed three coffee cups and placed them on the kitchen island. As if, you were staying. “It would change yours though.”
That’s when realization hit you. They were the type of evil that were completely aware of their sins. They knew exactly what was right and wrong, but they simply did not care, the world as their oyster.
“You’re insane,” a tear rolled down your eye, your body trembling like a leaf.
“Not denying that one,” Satoru quipped, not taking anything serious like usual.
“If you want to, you can leave. You are free to run your mouth however you want, block our numbers, whatever makes you sleep better. Or you can eat some pancakes as friends and have powerful allies for the rest of your life,” Geto said. “I’ll ask again, coffee or tea?”
You bit your lip as the conflicted emotions flashed through your face. You despised that you viewed them still as your friends as much as your enemies. It was weird to love someone who had hurt you in one of the most violating ways possible.
“Coffee,” you mumbled as you sat down on the bar stool hanging your hands on your sides as Suguru poured the dark liquid on the blue cup.
“We got you Plan B too,” Satoru said, throwing the cardboard box into your hands. “You should take it. I’m not ready to be a father,” he added.
You fumbled the package open, popping out the small pill on your hand. You didn’t know how they knew that you weren’t on birth control nor did you really care. You placed the tablet on your tongue taking generous gulps of water as the couple continued on cooking.
Music played as the sun shone brighter, lighting up the whole kitchen, furniture basking up in the natural glow. You ate in peace, mainly Satoru and Suguru talking together but every once in a while you added something in the conversation. You fell quickly back to the old habits, maybe at times chuckling at their stupid jokes.
You pushed away the night. You tucked it in a corner of your mind that you did not dare to look at for many weeks to come. You were just three old high school buddies catching up, nothing more. The flashbacks you saw were not yours and the long weekend continued on as a happy sleep over.
1K notes · View notes
alxtiny · 1 month
Note
can you do which ateez habit you would have picked up from being around them for too long?
I struggled with this more than I should have I’m sorry 😭😭😭😭 Happy reading!!!
Habits you pickup from Ateez
Synopsis: little habits you pick up from ateez
Pairing: ateez members x gn!reader, idol au
Genre: fluff
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: none:)
masterlist
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• Hongjoong
Falling asleep in random places
You never thought you'd pick up such a peculiar habit from Hongjoong but here you were, dozing off on the couch in his studio. It had become somewhat of a routine lately. Hongjoong often found himself working late into the night, composing music and writing lyrics, and you couldn't bear to leave him alone. So, you stayed up with him, keeping him company and offering moral support.
Tonight was no different. The studio was dimly lit, save for the soft glow of the computer screen where Hongjoong was tirelessly tinkering away. You sat beside him, occasionally offering words of encouragement or fetching him a snack to keep his energy up. But as the hours passed, fatigue started to weigh heavily on your eyelids.
"You okay Y/n?" a familiar voice chimed in, bringing you back from the brink of slumber.
You blinked a few times, trying to shake off the drowsiness. "Huh? Who? What?" you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.
Seonghwa chuckled softly and gestured towards you. "You fell asleep in a chair, I think you’re spending too much time with Hongjoong. You should get some real rest before you start falling asleep in random places, like him, too."
Glancing over at Hongjoong, you realized he was completely absorbed in his work, oblivious to the conversation happening around him. You laughed sheepishly, realizing Seonghwa was right. Lately, you had indeed found yourself dozing off in various places – the couch, the kitchen table, even leaning against the wall.
"It's just... I can't leave him alone when he's working so hard," you explained softly, a small smile playing on your lips.
Seonghwa's expression softened as he understood. "I know, and I'm sure Hongjoong appreciates it too. But you need to take care of yourself as well, okay? "
You nodded, grateful for Seonghwa's concern. As you settled back into the couch, you made a mental note to try and get more sleep, even if it meant leaving Hongjoong to his work occasionally. But for now, you allowed yourself to succumb to the comforting embrace of sleep, knowing that Hongjoong was just a few feet away.
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• Seonghwa
Acting motherly towards the members
Seonghwa watched with a bemused smile as you flitted around the dorm, straightening pillows, picking up stray socks, and tidying up the kitchen. It was a sight he'd grown accustomed to – you, inadvertently taking on the role of the dorm mom, just like he did. It wasn't something you consciously did, but rather a habit you'd picked up from spending so much time around him and the other guys.
You had a thing for neatness and sometimes acted much like a mom in your friend group, but lately, you found yourself slipping into Seonghwa's shoes more often than not. It was something he found endearing and amusing, seeing you scold the other members for leaving their belongings strewn about or for forgetting to do their chores.
"Y/N, what are you doing?" Seonghwa asked, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.
You turned to him, a blushi tinting your cheeks, wondering just how long he had been watching you. "Oh, just tidying up a bit. It was a mess in here."
Seonghwa chuckled softly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You don’t need to do all that, you know"
You laughed, shaking your head. "I can't help it. You guys are like family to me, and I just want to take care of you."
The other members wandered into the kitchen, groaning as they saw you fussing over the cleanliness of the space.
"Come on, Y/N, we already have one Seonghwa," Yunho teased, flashing you a playful grin. "We don't need you turning into another one."
You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide the smile tugging at your lips. "I'm just trying to help keep things organized around here. Someone has to do it."
Seonghwa wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "We appreciate it, really. Just don't forget to take care of yourself too, okay?"
You nodded, leaning into his side. "Of course. But someone has to keep you guys in line."
The others laughed, knowing deep down that they were lucky to have both you and Seonghwa looking out for them – even if it meant enduring occasional scoldings for their messy habits.
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• Yunho
Picking at or biting your lips
Yunho had always been the type to immerse himself completely in whatever task he was working on, often biting or touching his lips in concentration. You, on the other hand, had never noticed this about yourself until Yunho pointed it out one day.
You were sitting together at the studio, both lost in your respective work. You were so engrossed in what you were doing that you didn't even realize your hand had wandered up to your lips, fingers lightly touching and occasionally biting at them in a habit you had unknowingly picked up from Yunho.
"Y/N," Yunho's voice broke through your concentration, causing you to look up, startled. "Don’t do that," he said, nodding towards your lips.
Confused, you furrowed your brows. "Hmm? What do you mean?"
Yunho sighed, his expression turning slightly serious. "You keep biting your lips. You might hurt them if you're not careful."
You blinked, suddenly becoming aware of what you were doing. "Oh," you muttered, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck. "I didn't even realize I was doing that."
Yunho's lips twitched with amusement, but he quickly composed himself. "It's a bad habit. You should try to stop."
You couldn't help but feel a bit defensive. "Well, you do it too," you scoffed and pointed out.
Yunho's cheeks flushed slightly, and he looked away. "I... I do?"
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. Maybe we've just been spending too much time together," you teased.
Yunho's embarrassment was palpable now, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Maybe," he muttered, unable to meet your gaze.
But despite the awkwardness, there was a warmth in your chest knowing that even your unconscious habits were intertwined with his. It was just another reminder of how close the two of you had become, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for it.
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• Yeosang
Clapping while laughing
You and Yeosang had spent such a long time together and over the course of it, you became attuned to each other's habits, quirks, and gestures without even realising it. One particular habit of Yeosang's that seemed to have rubbed off on you was the way he would clap his hands when he found something particularly amusing.
The way your hands would subconsciously come together and follow the rhythm of your laughter felt natural and neither of you actually noticed how a habit, once Yeosang’s, was now shared by you.
However, that was until one lazy afternoon when Yeosang excitedly showed you his phone, "Hey, check this out," he said with a grin, pushing it towards your face.
Curious, you glanced at the screen, finding yourself staring at a Twitter thread created by an ATINY. The thread was a compilation of gifs and videos, side by side, showing you and Yeosang laughing together. What caught your attention, however, was the caption accompanying the thread: "Am I the only one who noticed that Y/N and Yeosang have the same adorable habit of clapping while laughing? #YeoY/N."
"Oh my god they’re adorable."
"They look like cute little seals when they're laughing together, it's like they're synchronised."
You couldn't help but smile and giggle as you scrolled through the thread, amused by how certain things never went unnoticed by their fans, even if you yourselves were oblivious.
Yeosang glanced over at you, his expression softening. "I guess we really do spend too much time together, huh?"
You chuckled, leaning closer to him. "Maybe. But I wouldn't have it any other way."
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• San
Covering your mouth while laughing
It was just one of those habits you picked up without even realising it – covering your face while laughing. It was something you'd seen San do countless times, his hand rising instinctively to his mouth as his laughter bubbled up. Maybe it was the contagiousness of his joy, or perhaps it was the familiarity that made you do it, but whatever the reason, you found yourself unconsciously mimicking his actions more and more as time went on.
You didn't think much of it, not until one fateful day when you and San were doing a live stream together. The comments were flooding in, a flurry of emojis and supportive messages from fans all over the world. Amidst the sea of text, one comment stood out:
"OMG, look how they laugh the same! 😍 SanYn are the cutest! 💕"
Curious, you glanced at the screen, only to see San's eyes widen in realisation. He turned to you, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Looks like we've been caught," he teased, nudging you lightly.
You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but there was also a warmth spreading through you, a sense of fondness at the thought of sharing such a small, intimate detail with San. "Guess we spend too much time together," you joked back, unable to suppress a smile.
But as the live stream continued, you couldn't help but notice how often you and San found yourselves laughing, your hands rising simultaneously to cover your mouths. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the bond you shared, the way you seemed to sync up without even trying.
After the stream ended, you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to San’s cheek, you couldn't help but giggle at how much these little quirks affected you, maybe making life more comfortable along the way.
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• Mingi
Making the 🥺 face
To the people outside, Mingi seemed to be very intimidating, with his deep voice and built 6ft stature but inside the comfort of his he couldn't be more different. He knew he was cute and he knew how to use it against people. One quick look sent your way with his puppy eyes and pouty lips and you would melt, at some point this habit of his rubbed off on you.
The members weren’t safe from it either, like when Seonghwa had just finished making a delicious batch of ramen for himself. The aroma wafted through the room, teasing your senses and making your stomach growl loudly. You and Mingi couldn't help but stare at the steaming bowl with longing eyes.
"Seonghwa hyung, that smells amazing," Mingi exclaimed, his eyes widening with hunger.
You nodded enthusiastically, finding yourself unintentionally mirroring Mingi's expression, your lips slightly pouting like the 🥺 emoji.
Seonghwa chuckled at your antics, shaking his head. "Sorry guys, this is just for me. I only made enough for one."
"But hyung, we're starving!" Mingi whined, his voice tinged with desperation.
You glanced at Seonghwa, your eyes pleading as you continued to unknowingly imitate Mingi's puppy-dog expression.
Seonghwa sighed, feeling the pressure of your combined adorable stares. "Oh no, I have to deal with two Mingis now, don't I?"
You and Mingi exchanged a glance before bursting into giggles, realising your unintentional synchronisation. Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh along with you.
"Fine, fine," Seonghwa relented, dividing the ramen between the three of you. "But next time, make your own!"
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• Wooyoung
Smacking people while laughing
You couldn't help but laugh at the way Wooyoung told a recount of the recent Wanteez episode the boys shot, adding his own commentary in between. He always had a way of making you laugh wholeheartedly, even when you fought he would be the one to apologise first and crack a joke to make you smile. However, what you didn't realise was that you had picked up one of his habits along the way.
In the midst of your laughter, your hand instinctively swung out and smacked San's thigh, eliciting a surprised yelp from him. It wasn't until he looked at you with a mix of amusement and slight irritation that you realised what you had done.
"Oops, sorry, San!" you apologised, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you tried to suppress your laughter.
San rubbed his thigh, shooting you a mock glare. "I already have to take abuse from Wooyoung, and now you're doing it too?"
You couldn't help but giggle at his playful complaint, but Wooyoung nudged you with a grin. "Looks like my habits are rubbing off on you, huh?"
You chuckled, realising how similar you two acted these days. "I guess so. Sorry, San, I’ll try not to do that but I can’t make any promises." You winked at him.
San shook his head and scoffed at your mocking, a smile breaking through his faux irritation. "Ahh so much I have to go through,"
You and Wooyoung giggled at his words, knowing how much he loved you both the same, with the occasional physical abuse of course.
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• Jongho
Scrunching your nose while smiling/laughing
As you sat on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you stumbled upon a video compilation titled "JongYn Couple Moments" ,obviously your curiosity got the better of you and you clicked on it, not fully knowing what to expect. What unfolded on the screen was definitely not what you were expecting, it sent a sudden blush creeping up your cheeks.
The video was a compilation of moments featuring you and Jongho, through the fans’ eyes, complete with dramatic commentary about how cute you two were together. Especially about the way your noses scrunched and crinkles formed around your eyes as you both laughed, with your faces making the same endearing expression.
You couldn't help but be amused as you watched, realising that you had subconsciously copied Jongho's habit of scrunching his nose when he smiled.
Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. Glancing over, you found Jongho peering over your shoulder, his eyes fixated on the screen. As he watched the video, a wide grin spread across his face, small giggles leaving his lips.
"Wow, we really do look alike sometimes," Jongho remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
You nodded, still giggling at the sight. "I never realized I picked up on your habit."
"It's adorable," Jongho said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. "I guess I've rubbed off on you, huh?"
You chuckled, leaning into his touch. "Looks like it. But hey, I don't mind sharing a few habits with you."
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yinses · 2 years
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or five times you attempted to pet tighnari's ears and the one time he let you
tighnari x gn! reader rated: t wc: 9k+
a/n: i swear i'm not a genshin writer. every now and again one just really hits me and won't leave me alone. i'm shaking at the prospect of meeting cyno.
|1|
when you had taken up the life of a very luxurious forest ranger, you hadn’t done so with any grand goal in mind. growing up you’d never been enticed by the prestige of the akademiya. the too tight robes warded off any appeal of unlimited knowledge. 
you weren’t much of a haggler either, so market trading had never been much of an option. to be honest, in most cases you couldn't be bothered and would give away something for free if it meant getting the person out of your face.
maybe as a child you’d dreamed of theatre. promises of dancing in front of a crowd. or performing a sincere song of gratitude in honour of your generous archon. but there was a reason why only the children of sumeru dreamt. because it saved you the reality of embarrassment. 
ultimately it made sense for you to be a forest ranger. you were blessed with a vision and had the aptitude for conflict when needed. you didn't mind being outside. sumeru was a beautiful land of bountiful vegetation and fauna. you were proud to be part of the force protecting it. 
so naturally, you were destined to join their ranks. you would fit in splendidly as long as you followed the basic code of conduct.
the rules were simple:
execute every possible strategy to ensure the safety of the public
do not engage in any withering zone excavation without first reporting it
do not under any circumstances attempt to touch master tighnari’s ears.
you believed that honour should be given where it was due, and tighnari certainly earned a bulk of it in sumeru. he was as tenacious in his research as he was in his determination to cull the withering.  
it was admirable. unquestionably gave his subordinates something to look up to. it helped that he made an easy guy to work for. tighnari was an abundance of knowledge, never failing to deliver relevant facts about any form of botany in sight. 
during your initial interview he completely sidetracked himself from testing your competency in favour of dumping the equivalent of a knowledge capsule on the entire forest on you. and during the whole time all you could think was how cute.
those fluffy, distractingly soft ears he had that twitched with every emotion. you noticed that sometimes they swayed unprompted, as if they had a mind of their own. the man himself seemed oblivious to your obsession, or just so immune to the attention at this point that it hardly phased him. 
it was a shame really. 
because by the time he realised you were out of your seat, he had a split second to snatch your offending hand before your fingers to reach the fur. the utterly adorable culprits seemed to tease your failure, flickering invitingly just out of reach of your wiggling fingers. 
at least you had enough integrity to smile in the face of defeat as your future boss leered at you unimpressed. 
he spent the remainder of your now orientation laminating over the very extensive punishment policy to be expected of any broken infractions. 
|2|
it was safe to say the threat of punishment didn’t weigh too heavily on your consciousness. what you did learn, was everything more the life of a ranger had to offer. it wasn’t as though you belittled it to a simple forest guide. you were well aware of how each and every one of your colleagues put their life on the line to protect the gifts from the first of the dendro goddess. 
but you never expected your contribution to feel so satisfying. 
every day your body got stronger, gaining the resilience and stamina to endure long treks through the forest. you became more in tune with your vision, able to protect not only yourself but others from harm. unexpectedly, tighnari’s long winded tangents began sounding more appealing as you absorbed the information rather than repel it. 
with each passing day you grew into the role of a proper forest ranger.
though there was one thing you hadn’t grown out of. 
“you two will be assigned with me. we’ll patrol the southeast canopy.”
tighnari was always so serious when delegating assignments. archon’s bless him. given it was a momentous occasion as it was imperative to understand everyone’s role so that their was a fair opportunity to return home safe and sound. 
it was just he way his ears followed each command. the adorable quiver not at all equivalent to his resolute voice. even after over a year under his command, it was still so distracting. to be fair, you’d learned to control your urges. after the second attempt and a week of making sure the long row of lamps remained glowing, you had at least accepted the pressing issue of testing his patience. 
your respect didn’t go unrewarded either. over time, you learned that under those cute ears was a very interesting man. you always knew he valued his time in the forest and that the publications were not just for show like some of the akademiya graduates. but to witness his unfiltered passion for the forest was … kind of refreshing. 
it made for genuine conversations that allowed you to feed off one another. while you’d never quite match his never ending knowledge for botany, you accompanied it well with your growing love for fauna. 
in short, tighnari had become an unexpected friend. 
with very endearing ears that you still felt the urge to touch after many, many months of barely held restraint. 
it was admirable. 
worth the gained friendship. 
and yet.
collei’s shoulder knocked comfortably into yours as she hopped with glee. her joy made her unaware to the sharp gazes watching her exuberant movements for any signs of fatigue. being around collei had eventually led you to believe that something was different about her.
as a fellow trainee for a time, the two of you had grown close enough for her to feel secure in delving into more of her past. her illness wasn’t necessarily rare but it wasn’t often you met many affected with as much optimism as she had. 
there was no doubt she had bouts of pain. sometimes you would cover her patrols to give her extra days of rest. tighnari was the most observant, always knowing when she needed a break. still the girl was a refreshing take on life in these darkening days. 
it helped that you both shared a fixation with a certain pair of furry ears.
whereas she was more timid in her appreciation, you had yet to shed your bold approach. 
well, maybe you got a little smarter. 
“but i already know about the sweetwater mushrooms,” collei whispered back, confusion staining her voice. there were times like this that her charmingness rivalled tighnari. 
you resisted the urge to pat the crown of her head. 
you all knew about the infamous fungi. upon its discover, tighnari had spent nearly a month after submitting his entry into the new rainforest guide speaking all about its elements; to anyone or anything regardless how responsive. 
if it was a botanical topic the fox found it hard to resist engaging. 
leaning closer, you kept a close eye on the leading man.” i know you do but tighnari always has something more to say. i just need you to ask him about it.” you refrained from using the word distract. 
collei’s ability to lie wasn’t a favourable skill. more often than not she caved in on herself before being able to spin a convincing tail. you’d learned fairly quickly the first time you convinced her to test a new route. the two of you hadn’t found any trouble but the slight delay in return roused a few questions. and of course tighnari had been the investigator. she never had a winning chance. 
“i still don’t get why i have to ask.”
“because i need an opening to try to touch his ears.”
the sharp gasp she left out was enough to shatter the gossip bubble as tighnari turned with a suspicious frown. his gaze fell heavily on you as the culprit. 
“what are you two muttering about?”
laughing sheepishly, your hip checked subtly against the younger girl’s as you took the lead. “just about the dusk birds. their mating season is approaching.”
tighnari raised a brow, but didn’t question further. one of the ways you’d managed to bond with collei had been over the observation of the bird hatchlings. they were one of the safer offsprings you were allowed to track in your earlier days, making you very familiar with their nesting grounds. it was one of the few areas he allowed you both to wander together without supervision. 
“uh huh, well unfortunately i doubt we’ll get many sightings this low. please try to stay vilgint for any threats.”
tighnari rolled his eyes at your comical salute but was unable to hide his small grin. it only fed into your wider one. 
good. he was in an amicable mood today. you’d both need it. 
collei managed to remain cool headed despite your hanging plan as the three of you ventured through the more worn paths. travellers and students alike tended to frequent these parts, fending off most wildlife who didn’t want to be bothered. it was mostly flora that flourished, taking up any available space. 
the perfect conversation starter. 
the green haired trainee squeaked when you cleared your throat and nudged her softly. the noise caused a flicker to tighnari’s ear but he otherwise left the two of you to your devices as he examined the population of fungi. 
your gaze darted to the seemingly preoccupied man and back, to which collei gulped but carefully approached. “um, master tighnari. do you mind going over the procedure for warning travellers about fungi again? sometimes i stumble with the more insistent ones.”
you could hear a bit of truth bleed into the ploy. it was certainly convincing enough as tighnari gestured for her to come to closer as he plucked a few samples. “certainly! it’s always good to familiarise yourself. sometimes they can get a little tricky. like this one, the bell-shaped and conical caps can often confuse people. you have to really pay attention to the arch…”
archons bless him, it didn’t really take much. 
tighnari’s eyes darted briefly to you as you settled near them. his body turned to welcome you into the discussion, but he otherwise continued his deep analysis of proper measurements of cap width. the fleeting eye contact was enough for you to witness the undeniable brightness as he conversed. 
as much as you liked to tease him, the jest hardly had any weight when the man was as serious about his research. he often responded with a chide about the importance of understanding and how it promoted coexistence. and then he would give you editions of his publications for you to study. 
the first few times, after you’d baulked at the depth of the information, you’d actually managed to discover a few interesting elements. despite his ability to drone on, the passion he felt was undeniable when reading through this material. even if you didn’t retain much of the actual reading, the smile you developed lingered. only to widen when you’d witnessed the excited flicker of his tail when you’d returned the books with a few inquiries of your own. 
tighnari took your interest in the fauna populating the forest seriously, cultivating the bud of fascination and furthering it. you hadn’t developed enough academic discretion to attempt a article- not that it would have been credible without the proper education- but tighnari baubles your insights all the same, often using your tracking skills to help develop new routes during various mating and hibernation periods. 
it … really helped you feel at home. valued amongst the other forest rangers. 
so what if you occasionally found your cheeks warming whenever he complimented your new discoveries. 
“when people ask, it's important to point out as many examples as you can to help them identify. in most cases you only have their attention for a few minutes so you need to capitalise.”
you had to give it to collei, she was either fully immersed or integrating very well into the diversion. though when tighnari got like this, it was nearly one in the same. 
rolling onto your knees, you paused as those endearing astute ears twitched in your direction. tighnari hadn’t skipped a beat, however instinct was so inherent. it made for an unfair advantage, however you had desensitisation on your side. the next disturbance you made as you leaned closer hardly got a reaction as his second nature focused on the world outside your bubble. 
it was a flattering downfall that you’d happily exploit as your hand neared your objective. 
“- actually that’s a common mistake. some of the gills look similar but if you notice here..:”
oh no. 
in one fluid motion, tighnari managed to capture your hovering hand, dragging it forward under his arm to come in contact with his other. the motion dragged you flush against his back as he manipulated your fingertips against the underside of the mushroom. 
“-… there’s a coarser distinction. of course, you have to be careful when encouraging other to touch freely as some can still be poisonous.”
naturally you doubted tighnari would use you so freely as an impromptu demonstration, punishment be damned. though the way he kept your appendage hostage implied that you weren’t free from reprimand. 
poor collei chuckled nervously as tighnari held out the fungi for her to try, eyes wondering anxiously between the two of you. from your imprisonment, you were unable to see what expression tighnari was giving off, but if the tight grip was any indicator it was safe to hypothesise that it wasn’t in your favour. 
“i um- see. thank you, master.”
tighnari didn’t appear to have any ill will towards the girl which was a small grace. his tone, however, was noticeably pinched as he directed the conversation over his shoulder. 
“do you have any questions, ranger?”
yep. 
there’s the wrath. 
accepting defeat, your head careened forward into the hollow of his shoulder as you mumbled your negative with the shake of a head. Immediately you felt his posture stiffen in responses to your relaxed submission. the proximity awarded you a personal showcase of the heat crawling up the back of his neck. 
interesting. 
“well then!” tighnari forced a cheerful bravado as he brought you both to an abrupt stand, releasing you in favour of stepping forward to lead. “collei, listen closely as they recite every classification as we finish our patrol. we can make note of their mistakes so that they don’t make them again when they extensively copy them onto the new pamphlets for next release.”
it didn’t evade you how the fox refused to face you as he pressed forward. you dared to guess that the rosy hue of his neck might match the roundness of his cheeks.
perhaps some discoveries were worth the failures. 
|3|
“I really want to feature the spinokrok in my next story but I’ve never really seen one up close. dad says it’s too dangerous though.”
“he’s right. they’re at the very bottom of the ravine.”
“oh…”
“but sometimes i pass through on patrols. if you’d like, i can snap a reference photo for you!”
“really? that would be awesome, thanks so much!”
children’s happiness was truly a unique fruit of motivation, both gratuitous and frankly slightly treacherous to consume. tighnari might liken it to one of the colourful sprouts that populate the banks near the cliffside; beautifully cunning but sure to leave you with a nasty surprise.
—okay, maybe that was a little dramatic. 
but you were certainly going to be in for quite the scolding if tighnari found out that you derailed your patrols for the sake of taking a leisure photo of wildlife. in the defence of safety, the fox wasn’t as easily swayed by a childish promise. 
fortunately, you were adept enough with just about any patrol path through the rainforest by now. your experience often persuaded tighnari to give allowance for you to tend to the paths along the outskirts of the village solo. 
which you were totally doing. 
just from a view a couple hundred metres below. 
the path towards the wetland ravine was a muddy line in the undergrowth, a quieter trail that rarely gathered much traffic: traveller or wildlife. to be honest, you hardly ever saw anything other than the spinokrok’s down here. though given their diet, it wasn’t much of a surprise. 
you carefully neared the bankside, watching the position of the sun in between the treetops. you’d already bartered away a lot of your time venturing this low. while you were known for a bit of wandering, if you took too long to check-in someone would end up alerting tighnari before long. the sky was already beginning to bleed into a light orange, the beginning shades of the setting sun melting into the blue above. 
not your first nighttime return, but the light scolding would be easy enough to shake off. 
the sudden splash drew your attention to the winding river as a crane took flight. the skittish fowl wouldn’t have been alerted to your presence this early which meant that your targets weren’t far off. 
tugging the kamera from your knapsack, you followed the line of the water through the lens. 
“there you are…”
razi would be pleased with the prints of the small brood of three. highlights from above complimented the red scales nicely. curious, you swung the lens further upstream in an attempt to capture a few more. known for their meat, if undisturbed it would be easy enough to find at least another two or three. 
however as the slithering vines stretched norther further, twisting through branches on its congest to conquer vegetation, you found the rapidly darkening view to be concerning. sure enough, the once plentiful flora was beginning to shrink on itself and take on a dull shade. the distinctive red flow of the withering zone was seated right in the apex of the blistering landscape. 
“here too?”
the area was small, but this route was part of the weekly assignments rather than the more frequent. had you not come here in search of fauna, it likely wouldn’t have been discovered for a few more days. unfortunately, locating it yourself was tantamount to giving away your private detour. 
for a brief moment you debated taking the chance to report, weighing the pros and cons. ultimately, the loss of independency once tighnari tracked your impromptu route was too great of a squander. besides, it was a small devastation. you were qualified to handle it.
—except for the corrupted machina lingering just out of sight. 
the narrow lens of the kamera hadn't been able to capture the additional dangers before you neared. had you been aware, you would have attempted to at least down one before you got too close. it was a tight battle, suffering under the thick miasma while trying to cut off the source. 
you’d managed to down the bulkier of the two, but the swindling snake-like projection had been doing an annoying job of evading your strongest attacks. with your hp at threatening level, coupled with low energy regeneration, you were starting to regret your choices just a little bit. 
you briefly wondered if tighnari would scold you through the eulogy. 
the darkness blanketing the forest worked against you, as the remaining threads of daylight faded. the red glow of the withering was the least comforting form of light to rely on as you made a hasty dodge away from the blasting beam. 
“oh, crap.”
a miscalculation saw your foot caught on a fraying vine, careening your forward as you landed heavily onto the ground. the threatening wind of the machina generating energy had you sucking in a harsh breath as you attempted to stand, resulting in a sharp jolt of pain as your ankle protested. a cold chill numbed your body in the worst way as the unsettling realisation of your actions weighed in. scrambling feebly for your weapon, you attempted to shield the next blow though you knew it wouldn't be enough. 
“enshroud!”
your body jerked in alarm as a cloud of green circled the earth around you. the lack of visibility should have been worrying, had you not been very familiar with it’s caster; and the inevitable reckoning that would come. 
the first half came in the form of a series tanglevine shafts trained to track and devastate. the secondary wave wiped out the last of the threats before your savour was able to focus on the bleeding blooms. you’d never been more grateful to witness a successful clearance, as the suffocating effects of the withering abed away. it gave you just enough clear air to breath a grateful sigh of relief before it all soured. 
the second half of your retribution, was a quieter approach of wraith then you were use to. tighnari refused to look you in the eye as he kneeled before your injured limb. not that that you were trying to see the reflection of your guilt staring back at you. it gave you the opportunity to observe that he’d come alone, making you wonder if he’d been informed or had simply stumbled upon you. 
neither option was beneficial. 
the fox was obviously simmering, that much was clear even in his silence. he’d produced a small aid kit from his belt and was examining your ankle. the first sounds of annoyance permeating the air when you squeaked at the firm pressure against the joint. 
it was obvious that you wouldn’t be walking out of here. 
as if you weren’t in enough trouble. 
tighnari’s reticence preserved as he tied a stiff bow at the end of your wrapping before turning to offer his back. sighing, you accepted your fate and looped your arms around his neck. tighnari waited until your knees settled at his sides before he rose to his feet, added a second security under the weight of your thighs. 
at first you hoped to construct a plausible excuse in his silence, but after you’d practised the same redemption for the twelfth time you were starting to become more concerned about his resilience. you dont think you've ever witness tighnari hold back a scolding this long. 
unable to hold out any longer, you poked the hornet’s nest. 
“so razi has this new story idea.”
yeah you were throwing the kid under the bus, sue you. 
the first flicker of his ears was a subtle warning, but you pressed through. 
“he wanted to use the spinokroks as his next character but he’d never really been able to see one up close. and naturally it wouldn’t be safe for a child to traverse the forests. even with his father.”
there goes the second ear. 
“so being the helpful forest ranger i am under your tutelage, i offered to secure a reference photo for him. which of course—”
tighnari’s voice came quiet and strained. “please stop talking.”
you waited for him to say more, sure that he’d have more to tack on, but no other words left his lips. it was disconcerting in a way you hadn’t experienced before. you'd suffered through annoyance, frustration and some rage. 
but rarely disappointment. 
it was bitter tasting. 
it was rather telling when even the wildlife seemed to avoid the pair as you ascended out of the ravine. tighnari managed to not only reach the outskirts of the village, but did so without cracking under the pressure of your culpability. 
unfortunately you weren’t as robust. 
“tigh—”
“for every word, i’m adding a week of lamp maintenance duty.”
you squeezed your arms and legs around him in a hug, seeking out a thread of comfort through the throbbing pain of your ankle. 
“i’m sorry.”
tighnari sucked in a sharp breath as his steps halted. you could see the first glow of the lamps in the distance, no doubt a night crew lingering near to welcome the late returners. 
“you’re an idiot.”
a tight fist squeezed your heart as you shuddered against his back. 
“i know.”
“another week! i cannot believe your absolute disregard for your welfare. not only in straying from your patrols but to attempt to clear a withering zone without reporting it first. what were you thinking?”
your lips parted, voice small,” well i thought given how far off it was that no one would come across it before it spread.”
the fox was quietly shaking under you,” i’m tempted to bench you for a year for this alone. you could have been killed.”
“but i wasn’t.”
tighnari didn’t acknowledge the crackled excuse as he resumed the ascent towards the heart of the village. the conversation was over, at least for tonight. you almost felt bad for those hapless to witness the quiet fury as the leader trudged through the canopy. though the arrangement surely painted a telling story no one dared to stop or question.
upon entering your bungalow, tighnari silently backed into your bed until you took the hint.
as your arms slipped from around him, your fingertips brushed against the furry cartilage. though the action went ignored by both parties.
“rest, we’ll discuss this in the morning.”
|4|
the discussion did not come the following morning, or the rolling day as the sun rose and set. given your ailment you weren't exactly able to seek out your punishment, though the waiting game felt like the precursor. 
for the first three days, your only visitors were collie and one of the local healers. tighnari likely hadn’t banned the nervous girl, allowing her to stumble in at first light to assess your injuries. it seemed as though he also didn’t inform her of much as she tired to glean what she could. 
unfortunately, your mood hadn’t really improved from the night before, nor had your pain levels. you managed a tight smile at best, gritting through a scarce overview. the overhanging rumours were that you finally pushed tighnari to his limits. which was not too far from the truth. 
your medicine came in three intervals, and each visit was just that. umm only offer a genial knowing close-lipped smile as she applied the numbing cream and rewrapped your joints. the only news came from collei with each meal. it was never what you wanted to hear, but the sound of a voice other than your thoughts was welcome. 
you were able to keep up with light chat, the both of you doing an amicable job at avoiding the shaggy sumpter beast in the room. if the flightiness she gave off was anything to go by, then tighnari hadn’t completely cooled off. initially, you’d only probed subtly. asking about her patrols to see who accompanied her. questioning new withering zone reports to gauge who might be assigned. either tighnari had instructed her to be tightlipped or she was on as much of a lockdown as you were because the information gleaned was inconsequential. 
it wasn’t until the fifth day, when you were able to balance on your injured ankle for longer than a minute that you dared to try for more. 
umm had just finished, stepping clear of the doorway to allow collei to maneuver freely with the two bowls of lunch. the younger girl was in a lighter mood, giving you the extra confidence to push. 
you took a bite of the leftover stew first, before testing the waters. “has tighnari taken you on any deeper patrols lately?”
the girl stiffened but otherwise did not show any signs of distress. 
“not really, he’s been kind of strict with patrols lately. only seniors have been assigned to the forest floor. i patrolled the understory with nasrin yesterday though! the dusk birds are starting to nest.”
you could resist a soft smile as the girl lead comfortable into a short tangent about the different locations she’d tracked in her notebook. she loved to watch the hatching process from the birth to first flight. tighnari was often more lenient with her during this season. you were pleased to know your mess up hadn’t resulted in that being taken away.
“hopefully i’ll be healed enough to catch one of the hatchings.”
collei’s gaze flickered to your freshly wrapped ankle, “master tighnari wouldn’t say but he’s been pretty testy about ranger etiquette lately. well more than useful.”
“yeah, i was pretty stupid,” you muttered, quoting the fox’s words from that night. 
collei sat upright on the chair by your desk, responding to your despondent mood. “he’s not nearly as bad as before though. i mean that morning after he was really mad. not like loud angry, but everyone knew not to test him. but he’s calmer now”, she assured.
you assumed as much. avoiding you was likely the best way to keep his temper in check.
you watched as the green haired trainee squirmed in her seat, no doubt uncomfortable at the idea of being between the brewing conflict. tighnari no doubt tried to ease that predicament by withholding information. the least you could do was honour your half to keep from setting her off. 
“umm said i should try walking around more. i got permission to pace the platform if you want to join.”
the girl jumped at the chance, nearly losing her bowl in the process. laughing, you quickly took hers and set it on the desk with yours before standing to your feet. collei was at your side, urging your arm over her shoulder. it wasn’t really necessary but you’d never turn down the girl’s assistance. 
carefully the two of you ambled through the leaves shrouding your entrance. it wasn’t the first time this week that the sun warmed your skin. umm had urged you to test the distance from your bed to your porch on the second day with each visit there after. it helped tp press your limitations while keeping the joint from getting too stiff. but this was the first time you’d been able to venture far enough out to interact with more than the same two people for the last few days. 
collei remained diligent as she led you down the straight path, attention not straying from your gait as you greeted faces you haven't seen in awhile. the reception was overall positive, your health and wellbeing superseding the wraith that had hung over the encampment for the past week. it narrowed down the list of those you’d need to apologise to at least. 
“oh it’s master tighnari!”
your gaze snapped to her extended finger, noting the tall tuff of ears before anything else. his back was turned to you, a fortunate thing as you still weren’t sure how to face him just yet. he appeared to be conversing with a group, though it wasn’t the usual collection of rangers waiting for assignments. 
you recognized the garments however. 
collei groaned as she sagged under your arm. “its the akademiya again. when will they ever learn?”
likely no time soon, as the pressure from both the forest and threat of the ‘scarlet king’ followers continued to rise. the first time you witnessed the prestigious envoy attempting to recruit the fox, you’d been in awe. it was somewhat of an honour to be approached by anyone doning the gowns. next to the archon herself, they were the reigning power. however the prestige lost a light grace, when tighnari scoffed at the invitation. 
it was one of the occasions that you’d really come to appreciate more than just his vast knowledge. of course, you respected him as a leader but it was different to consider his understanding of plant life on a scholarly level. his tangents that he loved to rattle your ear with were published and very popular articles. 
he was something of a celebrity. a fact that you loved to tease just to see the tops of his cheeks grow warm at the admission. 
now, even at this distance, you could see a similar red dusting his fair skin. but not in the pleasant way that warmed your chest. 
no it seemed that an inkingly of your excursion still peaked his heart rate. and this wasn't making it any better.
that wasn’t good.
“collei, please help me.”
“huh? oh, wait! not too fast.”
tighnari grit through a tight smile, barely hanging onto his fangs to keep them from showing. at a young age his mother taught him that human could find it threatening. frankly, right now he wished to find out how much of a truth that was if it got these nuisances out of his hair. 
this was the last thing that he wished to deal with right now. the institution had taken a different route it seemed, sending students under the premise of studying under his tutelage. something he would maybe consider any other time than now. 
his foot tapped irritably as one of the bolder ones spoke his piece, spouting words of prose that meant nothing to him. they were all weak and obvlivious children wandering aimlessly. he had enough of those under his own watch. 
“master tighnari, i've read all your publications intensively and feel that i would be a valuable asset in your further research of the withering zones. i believe that together we can find a cure.”
tighnari barely resisted rolling his eyes. it was almost laughable. the withering had plagued them for centuries and they were still no closer to curbing it. no amount of research at this point was going to factor in. all they could do was contain, and that was a skill the akademiya didn’t teach.
breathing audibly through his nose, the fox attempted to remain cordial. “i appreciate your determination, however, i'm not in a position right now to allocate more rangers to facilitate your safety. the forest—”
“—i’ve also read intently on the local fauna and proper was to track warning signs of predators…”
tighnari really hated when he was interrupted. 
“i’m confident in my ability to spot danger before it becomes a problem.”
especially by know-it-alls who were overstepping in his domain.
the student continued on unware of the growing dangers, “i’ve brought a few of my manuscripts with me if you’d like to browse some of my speculations and hypotheses…”
tighnari's brow twitched as the student droned on. for someone who boasted about extensive research on understanding predators he was rather obvious to the one standing before him. the same couldn't be said about his colleagues who were carefully edging back. 
“if i could just get a few samples—”
the student had sense enough to notice as the plant scholar suddenly flinched, hand coming up to grasp the wrist of the hand threatening to touch the tip of his ear. it was the first time since opening his mouth that he’d taken into account the strained curl to the lips of the botany researcher. 
his gaze then flickered to the more relaxed, if not slightly sheepish smile of the forest ranger behind. they seemed otherwise unconcerned despite the death grip they'd been trapped in for … attempting to touch master tighnari’s ears?
the student felt a shudder wrack his body as the fox’s grimace smoothed into … something that he would one day recognize as a reckoning he’d be fortunate to survive in years to come. 
“apologies, you’ll have to excuse me. it appears one of my rangers feels well enough to venture off their bed rest and is due for some new assignments.” with that, the lead ranger looped the still trapped limb over his shoulder before assisting the injured ranger back up the canopy. 
“you can give your manuscripts to my trainee, collei.”
the green hair trainee in question waved timidly, unsure of how she got in this position but willing to help.” hello, im forest ranger trainee collei. please let me assist you safely out of the forest.”
|5|
“it’s master tighnari!”
believe it or not, forest rangers did get off days. while it was still heavily frowned on to use that time to exploit certain privileges to free roam the forest, there were other activities that some could get up to. 
some would use the opportunity to travel to the city or port for the market or to visit family.
others utilised their freedom to work on personal research. 
then there was tighnari who used the opportunity to research the local flora … via oral experimentation. 
your small project had been tossed aside in favor of darting out of your bungalow at the cry of fright from the green haired girl. it wasn’t the first time you’d witnessed tighnari taking his passion … to the next level. that time, curiosity had thrown him into a rather long slumber that he’d conveniently woken up from after a gratuitous amount of panicking on collie’s part and just in time for you to return with the rescue aid party. 
it was safe to say that was not the last occassion, and tighari had treated you both to several lunches to make up for the scares. 
but it wasn’t often that he was brought back to the village in a state. more often than not the ailments resolved in the time it took someone to find him or simply shaken off with no concern. 
it was enough to have you barreling unannounced through the head ranger’s door with apprehension. firm but fraying hands caught you as you stumbled through, righting your body before you could embarrass yourself. 
“don’t worry, tighnari is fine. it’s a harmless reaction to one of the fungi he consumed.”
umm brought her hands to a comfortable leisure behind her back as you peered over her shoulder. 
tighnari was lain out across his bed. it looked as though he had been tucked away intentionally, but the man had fought away the sheets in a fit. there was a light coat of perspiration doting his forehead and his skin had taken on a rosy flush. it hardly looked harmless. you’d never seen the lead forest watcher look so … unravelled. 
when was he going to learn to stop experimenting so freely?
umm gave a passing pat to your shoulder,“with a bit of rest he’ll be just fine.”
you had hoped as much but it eased some of your worries to see him at least home safe. though his predicament still tested your resolve. you would distract yourself for the time being concocting your own chiding speech. seriously, someone needed to hold him accountable. as it seemed, you were the only one daring enough to challenge the fox. 
heavily a relieved sigh, you turned to leave. collie would likely need a second dose of comfort now that you’d taken your own inventory of the indisposed ranger. umm, bless her soul, wasn’t a very convincing source of comfort. having collie help prepare your speech would do some good for her as well.
“wait, don’t go yet.”
you stiffed at the unexpected plea. the voice behind you sounded a bit stronger than it should be in this predicament, more like the fox you recognized. umm hadn’t left you with any instructions, but it was safe to assume he was meant to rest as not to rile up his heart rate anymore. something you were very good at doing.
you liked to think that the two of you were on agreeable terms thus far. you’d been a textbook ranger over the last few weeks. not testing the limits of your privileges or boundaries. it allowed for the two of you to have some nice conversations. though you doubted anything very articulate would come from his mouth right now. 
it was unfair, how adorable he looked with mussed hair, heavy eyes and creased clothes. umm had taken responsibility to rid him of the more decorative parts of his uniform, leaving him in a simple shirt and pants. the said shirt appeared to have been tugged open, revealing the lean muscles of his chest and abdomen. 
that was decidedly leaning away from cute, as you tore your gaze away and scolded yourself. 
“you should really lay back down, tighnari, i need you to be yourself when i deliver your scolding later.”
“tigh.”
“huh?”
you were shaken out of your stupor when he stood, concern triggering your fight reaction as you quickly huddled him back onto the bed before he fell. he allowed you to do so, however when he glanced up at you his olive eyes showed annoyance.
“i prefer when you refer to me as tigh.”
your mouth open and closed silently at the admission. you could never recall tighnari outright scolding you for the curtail of his name. you used it so sparingly, and only ever in the comfort of just yourselves or collei. 
he never really showed any emotion other than surprise the first time he’d realised what you said. you never assumed he’d catalogued the occurrences to feel any ownership over the name.
you fidgeted under the scrutinised of the fox, unsure of how to proceed from there. it was obvious that he was still mildly effective if the rose of his skin was anything to go by. but there was undeniable clarity cutting through the fog in his eyes. it was enough of a relief to have your shoulders sagging slightly. 
if it got him to comply and rest through the remainder of the effects, you could concede. 
“okay, … tigh. please stop eating flora so carelessly.”
it wasn’t your intention to start the chastising prematurely, but if he wanted you to talk, you’d do so. you weren’t sure what all of this he would recall, but you hoped the echoing nag of your voice would hover like a hangover next time he considered experimenting alone. you knew he only tested things with vague assumptions, just enough to ensure that he wouldn’t perish on sight. but it was still close enough calls for you to worry. 
you thought nothing of the way he snared your hands, too used to having them detained in pursuit of your goal. maybe another time you would be the one to catalogue just how frequently the two of you help hands. certainly enough to suffer from desensita-
your speech cut off with a choke as the fox brought one of your hands to the crown of his head. it was the closest you’d ever gotten to your prize, just a simple flex of your fingers and it would be yours. 
and he was just allowing it. 
“um, tigh…?”
you swallowed as his hold slid to your wrist, thumb caressing the inside. 
“it’s what you want, right?” unintentionally your finger flexed under the strain of resisting, just the casual brush against the ear causing the body to shudder. tighnari managed an even breath through his nose, but you suspected his heart was creating as much of a racket as yours was. “ i want you to. i don’t mind if it’s you.”
you sucked in a sharp breath at the omission.
it took strength that you didn't think you had, and stupidity you’d likely reflect on later that night as you regrettably pulled your hand away. firmly not thinking at all about the soft whine that left the fox’s lips at the action. 
your smile was wobbly, frail under the weight of emotions teetering at the edge. you gave his bicep a comforting squeeze before you urged him to lay back in bed. thankfully he didn’t put up much of a fight as you tucked him in. 
his lashes fluttered closed against the cool caress of his cheek.
“next time, promise.”
between one breath and the next, he fell asleep.
|+1|
tighnari woke to a low hanging sun and a heavy head. despite the warnings he opened his eyes, then immediately shut them. though blurry and out of sequence, the master ranger was able to piece together the majority of his last coherency. 
he’d been experimenting with the effects of the moonshade mushrooms. there had been reports of unaware travellers losing consciousness in the middle of the forest and waking in a fevered state. naturally, he’d taken it upon himself to test the outcome in order to properly assign warning labels in his next publication. 
the initial bout of slumber had been brief, broken by a wave of nausea and the sensation of his body overheating itself. he then recalled umm stripping away his uniform in order to help him cool down.
and then there was you.
he remembered the sound of your concern and the inkling of berating though he couldn't exactly call back the wording. he was sure to get an encore either way; well deserved. 
there was a gaping absence in his recollection, but the sensation of your hand settled between the space of his ears hadn’t escaped him. when had he gotten bold enough to daringly reach out like that? sure you’d done the same on multiple occasions but it had been in pursuit of a singular goal while he—
tighnari stared at the leaf drawn entrance of his chamber, face burning. 
but surely that could not have all occurred before noon. 
“oh good you’re awake. that mushroom managed to down even you for a full day. it's certainly something to be aware of.”
the elderly woman peered briefly through the cut of the door before granting herself entrance. tighnari sat obediently still as she flittered over his vital signs, ensuring his temperature and heart rate were within agreeable boundaries. 
she scribbled the notes like clockwork into the parchment on his desk. while his methods weren’t often agreed upon, umm saw the value in the repercussions. her diligence had help assist in multiple breakthroughs. tighnari would be sure to deliver a nice basket of her favourite tree sap candies once he was back in working order. 
amir would have certainly taken initiative to oversee assignments for the day. he would certainly owe collei a visit as well to assure her fears. he vaguely remembered her putting up a fuss when he’d been carried in, shortly before she’d been directed out leading to her alerting you. 
tighnari’s cheeks grew hot again. he refused to acknowledge the rising blush even as umm chuckled quietly while gathering up her kit. instead, he kept his eyes on the entrance as he pinned his sashes in place and equipped his vision. 
it wasn’t as if the two of you weren’t already rather close. it was safe to say he gave you more allowances than most. sure, your futile attempts to touch his ears could be frustrating at times, but more so because of the opportunities you took than the actual actions. 
despite popular belief, tighnari didn’t truly hold his ears in that high regard. it was more out of proprietary that he shied away from strangers acting out of curiosity. to be honest, he really wouldn’t mind too much if a ranger asked to pet them. but it seems as if their own misconceptions had fed into the unspoken rule that his fox-like features were out of the question. 
except for you. 
over time, the two of you managed to lapse into a comfortable game of cat and mouse. tighnari knew if he’d shown any true signs of anger you would have backed away from the start. but his tolerance had permitted you to try again and again. 
so what if the occasional punishments he placed on you deterred the others, it never snuffed your fire and that was all that mattered to him. 
it was only natural that over time constant exposure would ignite his own interest. he could recall with vivid memory the way it felt to have you pressed against his back that time in the forest when you attempted to claim your prize in the middle of his lecture. he’d made you wait there while he finished the lesson, all the while relishing in the heat permitted his back. 
had it been just the two of you, he would have let you. 
yet when he finally caved and gave you the permission you'd been seeking all this time, you’d backed out. 
‘next time’ you’d promised. 
“if you’re done laminating, once you've finished eating you can go find them. i  believe i saw them returning not long before i came here.”
umm didn’t wait for a response as she saw herself out, her amusement audible even as she descended the ramp to her own domain. 
tighnari didn’t rush the act as he finished his meal and the provided water. once he finished, his lips turned at the dimming sunlight. his schedule was all but thrown out the window for the day, though he doubted anyone expected him to contribute much. still it stung his consciousness as a leader to leave his subordinates hanging , even if they were all self-sufficient adults. at least the headache had disappeared with proper nourishment. there would be time to salvage his routine later.
the sun was positioned late in the afternoon, but the dim light still irritated his eyes. he blinked through the sting as he welcomed the sight of the quaint village operating adequately in his absence. 
he returned any passing waves and gave brief responses to their questions. for the most part everyone seemed confident that he’d make a full recovery, though he still harboured the guilt of worrying them. 
brow pinched, he waved nasrin closer. “have you seen collei?”
the purse of her mouth didn’t spell anything good. tighnari hoped her illness had not acted up in his absence. “she had trouble sleeping last night so someone swapped patrols with her. she just set off not too long ago.”
the girl sometimes had trouble sleeping when plagued with anxiousness. tighnari settled that he would confront her upon her return, for now he had one more stop. he had a feeling he knew who offered to adjust their schedule to accommodate the girl.
he found your bungalow with practised ease, delivering a single knock before you offered entrance. he found you seated at your desk, no doubt detailing the report of your finding before submission. it was a relief to see that you took a break from your typical mischievousness to conduct a seemingly uniform patrol while he was indisposed. 
“i don't suppose you came across any new interesting flora on your patrols?”
tighnari watched as your shoulders stiffened at the unexpected sound of his voice. your head whipped around, eyes assessing him carefully before you gave a timid, relieved smile. 
“i think we can all agree that you’ve had enough adventures for one week,” you noted with light scolding. 
grinning, tighnari cared little if his fangs showed, knowing you wouldn't find them threatening. your gaze followed him as he secured the leaves behind him before approaching your desk. he leaned comfortably against the wooden structure as he browsed the report. it had been routine indeed, not a single withering sighting. 
“are you sure you’re alright? you had me worried for a bit.”
tighnari’s brow rose,” only a bit?”
scoffing, you rolled your eyes,” it’s not the worst thing you’ve eaten but seeing you down for so long was concerning. collei will be relieved to see you back on your feet.”
tighnari braceed his palm against the dest and leaned into the posture,“and you?”
“i owe you a scolding. you always get onto me about being aware and careful of my surroundings. yet here you go testing unknown fungi alone in the forest. at least bring it back before you test it out so we can be there if you need us.”
tighnari waited for you to finish, eyes shining with thinly veiled amusement. you seemed to recognize it as well, huffing as you realised your scolding didn't have as much weight as the seasoned scholar. 
unable to resist, the fox reached out to run is fingers along the side of your face before letting them rest against your shoulder. he watched as your chest expanded to take in the small gasp of surprise. it was a rare moment for him to initiate contact like this, especially given the recent occurrence only yesterday. while his recollection was misty, yours was clear as day. 
“i think you owe me something else too.”
tighnari watched your reactions carefully, from the flutter of your lashes to the rapid thrum of your heart beat against the pulse under your jaw. he never shied away from a discovery the promise of a satisfying understanding driving him from one revelation to the next. 
admittedly, you’d been a gradual observation. the question at the tip of the scale all this time while he’d unknowingly researched you thoroughly with each new interaction. day and day again, you prompted him with new variables both under his control and not. it was only today that he managed to form a working hypothesis. a hesitant theory that he knew would shift everything.
tighnari watched with growing fascination as the initial shock meddling into purposefulness as your hand came into view. impatient, he couldn't resist ducking his hand to meet you halfway. the first careful touch was equally inquisitive and hesitant. each time in the past, your hand had darted out with such certainty. yet now with it all willing at your fingertips, you allowed yourself the time to explore.
he hadn’t realised his head had come to rest against your collar bone until he felt the rumbled of your laughter. you didn’t simply just touch his ears, you caressed the length form the widest part to the tip. your fingertips tickled the tufts of fluff at the base. and the light scratched you delivered against the firm cartilage had him all but melting into your hold. the burst of new stimuli tickled his nerves and left pleasant sensations.
later he would analyse the data but he was already certain about his conclusion. 
your words mussed the top of his head as you spoke, humour bleeding into your intrigue. “can’t believe it took you a year to crack, tigh.”
tighnari sagged further at the uttering of the name. you flinched, not expecting the words of response to be mumbled into your skin. gratefully, it didn't cause you to pause.
“what was that?”
your touch slid from his ears to the curve of his jaw as his head rose to meet your gaze. 
“i actually had two hypotheses I wanted to test.”
though he didn't speak more than that, he could tell you were well aware of the implications. your lips parted to respond, but no words could pass the lump in your throat. tighnari tested the waters, leaning closer enough to brush the tup of his nose against yours. when you didn't pull away, he leaned down and pressed your lips together, firmly but briefly. as he breathed in deeply,  the smell of lush forestry, sweet flora and you invaded his scenes. the scent of familiarity minding with the aroma of what he called home was intoxicating. 
your eyes shone bright with mischief as tighnari pulled away, no doubt observing the rosy hue spreading across his face. 
“i think we need to experiment a little more before we can come to a confident conclusion.”
tighnari leaned back in and nuzzled you affectionately. 
“i agree.’’
tagging upon request: @lott-the-otter @uhohitsemmy
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slytherinslut0 · 6 months
Text
MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Eleven-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)
Tags: 18+, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Sexual Aggression, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Slytherin!Boys, Weaponizing!EnzoBerkshire.
****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.
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Friday morning arrived, but you found yourself ensnared by an unwelcome visitor: illness. Your usual vibrant energy was replaced by a lethargic heaviness, your throat scratchy, and your head pounding with each heartbeat. Emily's concerned eyes followed your every move at the breakfast table, her worried whispers barely audible above the hum of the Great Hall.
Thursday had been a disaster. Despite the guild meeting's anticipation, you couldn't summon an ounce of excitement. The prospect of seeing Tom, once a source of thrill and exciting opportunities, now felt like a daunting challenge. As you walked past him, you avoided his gaze, keeping your eyes fixed on the floor and not daring to converse with him outside of a few small shared words during the meeting. Ignoring him was a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the whirlwind of conflicting emotions that threatened to consume you.
Every fiber of your being wanted to be excited, but the illness, accompanied by the haunting words from Mattheo, had drained you of joy and left only a hollow emptiness. The guild meeting, once a highlight of your week, felt like a distant obligation. Your world had shifted, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainty and discomfort, the very essence of your existence shaken by the turmoil within.
"Are you okay?" Emily's voice sliced through the quiet, laced with concern. "You look like you're about to faint."
"I'm just not feeling well," you replied, your voice barely audible above the buzz of the Great Hall.
The words that left your lips were somewhat true, but they were a mask over your real problems. A torrent of conflicting emotions churned within you, the chaos of Mattheo's unpredictable behavior warring with the complexities of your situation with Tom. Each thought pulled you in a different direction, leaving you in a state of internal turmoil that threatened to consume you whole. Despite your efforts to hide it, the storm inside your mind was evident in your eyes, a silent plea for understanding that you were desperate to keep hidden.
Emily's concerned expression softened into one of understanding, her eyes reflecting the depth of her friendship with you. She didn't press further, sensing the boundaries you had set. Instead, she offered you a gentle, reassuring smile.
"You've been working so hard," she said, softly. "You should cancel your tutoring tonight. You need a bloody night off--you're working yourself sick."
Internally, your turmoil grew. If only Emily knew the real reason behind your illness, the tangled web of secrets and emotions that threatened to suffocate you. The rule-breaking involvement with Mattheo weighed heavily on your conscience, a constant reminder of the dangerous path you were treading, one that was bound to explode at some point, one that was certain to bring your entire world crashing down with it when it did.
Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to confide in Emily, to burden her with the knowledge of your own reckless choices. The fear of judgment and the complexities of your feelings kept you silent, trapped in a cycle of self-imposed secrecy.
"I appreciate your concern, Emily," you replied, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "I honestly think I might just do that...I'm going to tell him now."
Emily's face fell, her eyes widening with a mix of worry and disbelief. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but the words died on her lips. Before she could voice her concerns or attempt to hold you back, you were already rising from your seat, your determination etched on your face like a battle flag. With every step toward the Slytherin table, your gaze bored into Mattheo's disheveled appearance like a laser, an unspoken challenge burning in your eyes.
Your feet carried you forward with purpose, each step echoing your heartbeat which relentlessly thundered in your ears, drowning out the ambient sounds of the bustling Great Hall. The world around you blurred, the faces of your fellow students becoming mere smudges of colour as you zeroed in on Mattheo. A surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, urging you forward even as doubt gnawed at the edges of your mind.
As you drew closer, you realized the gravity of your decision, the precariousness of the situation you were about to confront, but in that moment, you knew you were already in too deep, you knew that there was no turning back.
"Riddle."
You uttered, your voice slicing through the air like a dagger. However, it was as if your words were swallowed by an invisible void; no one at the table even remotely acknowledging your presence.
"Riddle."
You repeated, your tone sharper this time. This caught Draco Malfoy's attention, his sharp, silver eyes locking onto yours with predatory amusement. His smirk, a cruel curve etched on his lips, seemed to mock your efforts. You shot him an eye roll, dismissing his silent taunts, but it only fueled his amusement, his head tilting slightly in enjoyment. Frustration simmered beneath your skin, a restless energy seeking an outlet. Exasperation surged through you, a tempest of emotions threatening to burst from within.
"Mattheo!"
You finally exclaimed, the name carrying the weight of your frustration and determination. The word hung in the air like a thunderclap, freezing everyone at the Slytherin table in their tracks. The effect was immediate and profound. It was as if you had tossed a live wire onto the table, sending shockwaves through the once-buzzing atmosphere.
A sudden, eerie silence descended upon the Slytherin table. The lively chatter ceased abruptly, and every single pair of eyes turned toward you with an intensity that bordered on disbelief. Berkshire, Zabini, Nott, Black, Malfoy, and Riddle, as well as a few unfamiliar faces, locked their gazes onto yours, each expression mirroring a different shade of astonishment--ranging in various raised eyebrows to widened, shocked eyes.
Before you had a chance to compose yourself, Berkshire, seated directly in front of you, sported a wide, contemptuous grin, his eyes gleaming with disdain.
"Well, well, look who's decided to grace us with her presence," Enzo sneered, his tone dripping with condescension. "Did you finally tire of your precious textbooks, sweetheart? Or are you just here to make a fool of yourself?"
Mattheo's eyes widened in mild astonishment, his usual mask of indifference momentarily slipping as he watched the scene unfold. His lips twitched, almost forming a smirk, but he remained silent, keenly observing the confrontation.
You straightened your back, your gaze unwavering as you met Enzo's sneer head-on. "I'm not here to entertain you, Enzo," you replied, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "But if you have nothing else to do besides insult people, maybe you should consider finding a hobby that doesn't involve being an insufferable prat."
The table fell into a stunned silence, the previous atmosphere of mockery dissipating like smoke in the wind. Enzo's sneer faltered, his expression contorting into a mixture of surprise and indignation.
Zabini raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. "Looks like this raven has some fuckin' claws...watch out boys..."
Nott stifled a laugh behind his hand, clearly entertained by the unexpected turn of events. Black shot you an approving nod, wordlessly acknowledging your verbal victory, and even Malfoy, though still aloof, seemed intrigued by your bold response.
Mattheo's eyes, however, bore into yours with an unreadable intensity, a hint of something flickering beneath the surface--mixture of surprise, pride, and a touch of something more complicated. Enzo's face flushed with anger, his eyes narrowing into slits as he prepared a retort. However, before he could unleash his reply, Mattheo's voice sliced through the tension like a dagger.
"What do you want, Raven?" His tone was calm, collected, almost entirely unfazed.
Inhaling deeply, you mustered your courage and looked directly into Mattheo's eyes. "I won't be able to make it for potions tonight," you stated firmly, your voice unwavering despite the charged atmosphere. "Feeling a bit under the weather."
Mattheo's lips curled into a subtle smirk, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Under the weather, huh?" he said, his tone laced with feigned concern. "Such a shame. I suppose I'll have to find another way to occupy my evening."
There was a playful challenge in his words, hinting at an unspoken understanding between the two of you. Around the table, the boys exchanged raised eyebrow glances, their expressions laced with sadistic curiosity. Their eyes flicked between you and Mattheo, absorbing the interaction with keen interest, as if trying to unravel the depth of the connection between the two of you. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension, each of them leaning in slightly, eager to catch any nuances in your conversation, their curiosity piqued by the intriguing dynamic at play.
"I suppose you will," you said, your voice laced with venom. "Enjoy your evening, Riddle."
Just as you attempted to leave, a cold, harsh grip closed around your wrist, making you gasp in surprise. Glancing down, you found Berkshire's twisted face leering up at you, a sadistic smirk playing on his lips.
"If you ever need help getting that stick out of your uptight ass, I'd consider lending a hand," his eyes glinted with malicious intent as he taunted, "of course, for the right price...I'm not as generous as Mattheo."
Your eyes narrowed, fury burning in your veins like wildfire. "Mattheo, generous?" you scoffed, disbelief lacing your words. "That's the last word I'd associate him with."
Berkshire's lips twisted into a cruel smile, his eyes glinting with sadistic satisfaction. "Oh, trust me, little bird," he sneered, leaning in closer, "generosity might not be his best feature--but sometimes, when you're dealing with snakes, it's better to know which one bites less."
His grip tightened briefly before he released you, leaving you seething with anger and frustration. Mattheo's jaw clenched visibly, his fingers curling into fists at Berkshire's audacious words. His eyes narrowed, a storm of anger brewing beneath the surface, but he maintained his composure.
"Watch your tongue, Berkshire." With a chilling calmness, he spoke, his voice laced with a warning tone. "And what did I tell you about fucking touching her?"
His words hung heavy in the air, a subtle threat underlying the calm facade. The atmosphere grew tenser, and even Berkshire seemed to falter slightly under the weight of Mattheo's gaze. The unspoken tension between the two boys crackled, leaving an electric charge in the room.
But then, Berkshire's lips curled into a sinister smile, as if he'd just come to some sudden realization, his eyes glinting with malicious amusement.
"My apologies, Riddle," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, glancing around at all of the other boys at the table. "I didn't realize she was off-limits...but, I have to say, it's quite intriguing, isn't it? The way you guard her so fiercely. Makes one wonder just how close you two really are."
Your irritation swelled, the annoyance becoming almost tangible. How had you thought Mattheo's snark was bad? This guy was in an entire fucking league of his own.
"What truly intrigues me is how someone as insufferable as you manages to function on a daily basis," you hissed, each word dripping with venom, spat out through gritted teeth. "I didn't think it was possible to be more arrogant than Mattheo, but I suppose congratulations are in order. At least you win at something, unlike Quiddit-"
Before you could finish your sentence, Berkshire erupted from his seat, his face contorted with rage, poised to confront you, stalling your lungs in your chest. The rest of the boys swiftly intervened, seizing him and forcefully yanking him back down into his seat, averting a potential escalation of yet another confrontation, each of them exchanging uneasy glances.
Mattheo's demeanor was a storm of barely restrained fury, his eyes dark and blazing with intensity. Despite his efforts to remain composed, the anger seeping from him was palpable, casting a shadow over the entire table.
You shot a scathing look at Berkshire, his gaze avoiding yours as he muttered bitter words under his breath, unwilling to engage in anymore direct confrontation.
Despite the tension, your voice dripped with disdain as you whispered, "bloody pathetic."
The words hung in the air, heavy with disgust, lingering like a ghostly mist--and before anyone had a chance to say anything else, you turned on your heel and left the hall. Each step echoed the frustration and anger that churned within you, the atmosphere thick with the lingering tension of the encounter. As you stormed down the corridor, your footsteps reverberating off the stone walls, you couldn't shake off the seething anger that clung to you like a second skin.
The distant echoes of the Great Hall's chaos faded into the background as you retreated into the quiet corridor, seeking solace from the storm you had unleashed. Just as you began to regain a semblance of composure, Mattheo's voice cut through the air like a sharp blade, his frustration palpable in the way he growled your name. You turned to face him, meeting his intense gaze, where anger and concern danced in his eyes like a tempest.
"The hell was that, Raven? What were you fucking thinking?" he demanded, his footsteps closing in with purposeful strides. His voice, though edged with annoyance, held an undercurrent of worry. "Starting a fight with Berkshire in the middle of the Great Hall? Are you trying to draw unnecessary attention to us?"
"You think I fucking started that?" Your eyes flashed with defiance, refusing to back down despite the intensity of Mattheo's gaze.
"I won't stand there and let him disrespect me, Mattheo," you retorted, your voice cutting through the silence with sharp precision. The weight of his annoyance only fueled your determination. "I'm already your doormat, I won't be his too."
There was a challenging edge to your words, a fire that refused to be extinguished, even in the face of Mattheo's frustration. It was a declaration of your unwillingness to be treated as less than you were worth, a resolve that echoed in the defiant set of your shoulders and the unwavering determination in your eyes. Mattheo's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing with a menacing intensity. He closed the distance between you in a few more swift strides, his presence overwhelming.
"You're not my doormat, Raven," he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "But if you keep pushing...if you keep running your mouth like that, you might just find out what it feels like to be truly under someone's heel...I can't keep defending you without drawing suspicion."
"Oh, look at you...big tough guy, huh?" Your defiance blazed in your eyes, undeterred by Mattheo's threats. You stepped forward, kinking your neck back to catch his eyes. "What are you going to do about it, hm? Get out the belt again? We both know I can handle more than that, Riddle..."
"You're playing with fire, princess..." Mattheo warned, his tone dripping with dark amusement as it dropped to a low whisper. "And we both know how that usually ends, don't we?"
His smirk, etched with wicked allure, deepened into a predatory grin. His eyes, like shards of obsidian, glittered with a potent mixture of dominance and danger. Leaning in, he invaded your personal space, his head tilting slightly as his gaze flickered to your lips, an unspoken challenge lingering in the air. Your pulse quickened, each beat echoing the intensity of the moment. Despite the adrenaline surging through your veins, you met his eyes with unwavering courage, a silent declaration that you would not be easily swayed by his aura of power and intrigue.
"Seems like that's all I do these days," you whispered back, allowing your defiance to blow away with the wind as you remembered why you even ventured to his table in the first place. "I can't do this anymore, Mattheo...I can't keep doing this...whatever the fuck this even is in the first place..."
Mattheo's eyes softened, his usual facade cracking for a moment as he reached out, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your jaw.
"Raven," he murmured, his voice filled with a complexity of emotions, "we're in too deep now...you and I both know there's no turning back..."
The dim light of the corridor cast deep shadows across Mattheo's features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face. His eyes, normally ablaze with confidence, were now clouded with uncertainty, a storm of conflicting emotions. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, adding to the enigmatic aura that surrounded him. As he leaned in, the scent of his cologne wrapped around you, intoxicating and alluring.
"No, Mattheo..." you breathed, turning your head to avoid his lips. "You said no strings but there seems to be a lot of fucking strings...it’s all too much…”
Your inner turmoil churned like a tempest within, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions tearing at the very core of your existence. There was an ache nestled deep in your chest, a painful acknowledgment that you were bound to Mattheo in ways that defied logic and reason. The desire for something genuine, something profound and real, clashed violently with the brutal truth that it could never be.
It was a cruel paradox: Mattheo's possessiveness, his insistence on claiming you, even in the shadowy realms of secrecy, left you feeling both wanted and yet painfully isolated. The longing for an authentic connection battled relentlessly with the reality that this clandestine affair could never transform into something meaningful. You found yourself ensnared in a complex web, a moth irresistibly drawn to a flame, unable to resist its allure despite the inevitable burn.
His games and possessive gestures were merely agonizing reminders of the insurmountable boundaries. Yet, the magnetic pull of his presence, the way he ignited a fire within you, kept you entangled in this perilous dance. Your feelings for him were perplexing, a tumultuous mix of intense desire and seething resentment. He made you experience emotions you had never felt before, confusing you with the sheer intensity of your reactions.
You hated him, despised the way he treated you, yet he had an inexplicable power over you, making you feel both alive and trapped simultaneously. The dichotomy between the pleasure he brought and the pain he inflicted left you utterly confounded, adrift in a sea of emotions, desperately searching for an anchor that seemed forever out of reach.
Mattheo's eyes softened even further as he blinked, catching the flicker of turmoil in your gaze. He stepped back, the intensity of the moment breaking as he ran a hand through his tousled hair, a gesture of frustration and resignation.
"You're just not feeling well..." he said, his voice void of emotion, as though your turmoil was inconsequential, as though your current health state somehow made any fucking difference. "Get some rest, Raven. See you Wednesday."
His words hung in the air like a bitter aftertaste, a reminder of the futility of your situation. With a final, detached glance, he turned away and spun down the dimly lit hall, his figure gradually fading into the shadows. The weight of his indifference settled on your shoulders, a heavy burden that mirrored the ache in your heart. As he disappeared from view, you stood there, alone in the corridor, feeling both abandoned and entangled, like a moth caught in a web of its own making.
—————-
Chapter twelve->
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wannabeschyulersister · 2 months
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where’s that man who’d throw blankets over my barbed wire?
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*another angsty carmy fic coming right up*
“Ma’am? I’m sorry but we will need the table if your guest hasn’t arrived yet,” the waiter told you. You could tell he felt embarrassed to have to practically kick you out after being stood up.
You set the nice white napkin that had been on your lap on the empty plate in front of you, “I understand. Thanks for keeping me company.”
The waiter helped you put your coat back on and you placed a nice tip on the table before walking out. It felt so humiliating to sit at that table for the past hour alone.
Carmen forgot your anniversary.
You had been perfectly fine celebrating your two year anniversary with him in your nice apartment but he was the one that wanted to go all out. He chose the fancy French restaurant and made the reservation.
He was also the one that didn’t show up.
At first, you began to panic, thinking that something had happened to him on his way to the restaurant. You must’ve texted him a dozen times. When you checked his location, you saw that he was at The Bear.
There’s no way that he would forget your anniversary. Right?
Well, he did.
You walked until you were able to find a cab. Part of you wanted to confront Carmen at The Bear but you didn’t want to make a scene. Despite how mad you were at him, you respected his place of business.
Instead of going there, you went to the apartment that you shared with Carmen to wait for him. You didn’t even bother changing out of the red dress that specifically bought for that evening when you made it home. Taking off your coat, you placed it on the hook and sat on the couch.
It was an hour later when you heard the jingle of keys and the front door open and close. “Babe? You here?”
You didn’t answer him as he walked into the living room.
He set his phone and keys down on the coffee table in front of you, “Hey, what are you all dressed up for?”
“Our anniversary dinner that was two hours ago.” You answered coldly.
Carmen froze as it dawned on him that he forgot, “Fuck. Babe, I’m so fuckin’ sorry. Things have been so hectic at the restaurant these last few days and it totally slipped my mind. My phone died a few hours ago. I’m so sorry.”
He sat down next to you and tried to grab your hand. You moved it out of his grasp. “I waited for you for an hour, Carmen. It was so embarrassing. The waiter made me leave because they needed the table. How could you forget?”
“I told you. It seemed like everything that could go wrong did today. We had three waitstaff out with the flu-“
You cut him off, “Syd could’ve taken care of things for one night so that you could go out with your girlfriend! Aren’t I important too?”
Carmen looked like that question pissed him off, “Are you seriously askin’ me that fuckin’ question?”
You stood up from the couch needing some space from him, “Yes, I am because this isn’t the first time! How many times have you had to reschedule our plans? How many days do I barely see you? We’ve been together for two years, Carmen and I feel like we are just two strangers at this point.”
“Why haven’t you said anything then if you feel that way?”
“I’ve tried to have date nights and I’ve even stopped by The Bear to see if you can go on a coffee break. You always turn me down because something more important is pressing.” You’d been dying to have this conversation with him for some time now.
After countless times of letting things go, you were blurting out everything that you’d want to tell him. It had all been weighing so heavily on you lately. You could feel it draining you.
“(Y/n), I inherited a mess from Michael. I had to look after everyone’s jobs and-“
You interrupted him again, “I’m not saying that you have to choose me or the restaurant, Carmen. That would be incredibly selfish of me. But…. it’s like you’re out building this life for yourself and I’m just here hoping that you give me an ounce of attention.”
“You’re making it sound like our relationship is horrible. I thought that we were doing good.”
That almost hurt you more than being stood up on your anniversary. He thought that things were good? He hadn’t noticed that the two of you were so incredibly distant?
“Things haven’t been good in a long time. When we first started dating, you were present and it seemed like you’d do anything to spend time with me.”
“That was before we remodeled the restaurant. I had more time but now-“
“Now, you’re too busy for me.”
He shook his head, “I’m not, (Y/n). I just had more time back then. Now, it’s all on me. I’m stressed out.”
“I don’t want to add to your stress, Carmen.”
“Wh-what are you trying to say?” He stood up and made his way closer to you. You could tell that he was anxious about where the direction of this conversation was going.
“I’m not happy. I haven’t been for a while. I’ve tried to make things better but I can’t do it alone. I deserve to be with someone who I don’t have to beg to want to be with me.”
“(Y/n), I don’t want to be without you. I’ll start coming home earlier and I’ll uh have Sydney and Marcus start taking some more responsibility. I will-“
“And in a month when things are super crazy at The Bear because of the holidays? We’re back in this situation again. What kind of promises will you make then?”
Carmen seemed confused, “Do you not want to work on things?”
“A month ago, hell even a few weeks ago, I would’ve said yes, but I’m tired, Carmen. Tonight felt like it was the last straw. Sitting alone, you not answering your phone, it was embarrassing and so painful. I love you so much. But I think for the both of us, it’ll be better if we weren’t together.”
“I don’t want us to break up, (Y/n). I love you.” Carmen said softly.
You pulled him closer. He rested his head against your shoulder, “We can both focus on ourselves. I’m so proud of everything that you’ve done. You deserve all of the praise that is coming your way.”
You wanted to appear strong but on the inside you were breaking as well. There was a point in time where you imagined spending the rest of your life with Carmen Berzatto.
Now, there was a strong possibility that he wouldn’t be in your future. Were you making the right decision?
It might’ve felt like you weren’t in the moment. You just wanted to feel wanted and happy and with someone who couldn’t get enough of you. Carmen was that man at first. Things changed for the better and for the worse.
“I hate that I took you for granted. I will regret it for the rest of my life.” You felt him kiss your neck softly.
“I’ll still be here if you need me. You know that right?”
He nodded as you both stood there wrapped around each other saying your goodbyes without words.
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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months
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hear me out…jason proposing 😵‍💫 i’m such a sucker for a lowkey proposal like you’re just having a normal convo and he’s like “marry me” and you’re like wtf but you laugh it off bc like ofc he’s joking so when you’re like “you’re funny” he’s just dead serious, “marry me.”
I don’t really know where I was going with this, but if you get the reference I respect you.
Time written - 10:10 a.m
You weren’t a criminal when you met Robin, years before his tragic prime. It wasn’t every day when your paths crossed with a cape wearing teen around your age, even more so on his search of a bag of valuables you were ready to deny when it ‘accidentally’ came into your hands.
“Care to tell me how that happened?” The Boy Wonder at the time smirked, amused at your gawking face.
“Cat got her own tongue? What, you need some milk?”
You rolled your eyes. I you were a thief, you’d have sense to throw the satchel at his head. The cheesy jokes must’ve been a Robin thing. “I’m more of an Ice cream girl, actually. But, I didn’t steal this!”
To add up on this horribly unprecedented situation, Robin quirked a brow behind that domino mask of his, gesturing his head towards the bag of valuables in question.
“Trade you a milkshake for that.”
It was your turn to be incredibly confused, your mouth left open for quite some time. Was he serious right now?
“I choose the flavor.” You state after a further moment of thought.
“Seems fair.”
“And the place it’s bought from.”
“That’s askin’ a bit much,” Robin began to huff, hinting his growing smirk as your frown deepens.
“All I’m asking for is a five dollar shake in exchange for this bag full of hundreds of dollars, bird boy.”
“A five dollar shake in exchange for about seven hundred bucks inside that bag,” Robin points out, his smile growing bigger and bigger. “Throw in your phone number, an’ we got a deal, kitty cat.”
It turned into unconventional milkshake roof dates, sitting over the skylines, staring down at the chaotic world below as the two of you shared an unintentional paradise.
He’d tease your fear of heights, constantly calling you a Catwoman rip off, but he always made sure to never let you fall. Your relationship was sweet, too sweet, and gone way too fast.
Your rooftop dates were a tradition you kept alive when he died, only to resurface when a knock at your window interrupted you of sleep, opening your balcony to find a single milkshake perfectly balanced, with a bright black arrow drawn on the cup to meet Red Hood on the roof.
Jason Todd wasn’t the same as you remembered him to be, but he was still Jason, underneath all that broodiness that shielded him from whatever unseen traumas he hadn’t shared with you quite yet.
All these months since he ‘returned’, he always made sure to keep up your ice cream date schedules. Nine o’clock sharp on the roof of your apartment building. Sometimes, ontop of Wayne Industries on special occasions. He’d always be the one to carry you, especially now.
What did stick with him was his horrible Robin humor, which was what you believed he was using when he popped such an unexpected question.
“What?” Came your first response, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. A strange warm throb formed in your heart, thudding rapidly in your chest.
“What did you say?”
“Marry me.” He repeats again, never putting off that firm expression plastered on his face.
What an untimely thing to say in the calm before an unknown storm. Both of you were out of breath after chatting for an hour, sipping on thick melted shakes and laughing over the previous Boy Wonder.
“Jason, this isn’t funny.” You peer down at your cup, nearly finished with its contents. He always got your favorite.
“You’re right,” He agrees, his tone a little too calm to be considered any sort of joke.
All possibility of opportunity to pop a laugh and admit he was joking weighed heavily in the air, carried around by the nightly breeze. He never says he’s joking, never shrugs off such an alarming, mind blowing question.
“What if you’re kidding?” Your denial still leaks through, making his lips twitch upwards. It has to be a joke, he wouldn’t say it like this.
“What if I’m not?” He casually responds, nearly wearing down your patience.
“You’re not joking, are you?”
“I’m not.”
“Jason.” Saying his name so softly, littered with fear and hesitancy makes his second life heart melt. Being so sweet on his girl, even after his death, taught him a great lesson about time.
Regardless if he didn’t arrive at nine o’ clock sharp, or if you arrived two minutes late, time could easily be taken away, ruining everything.
He remains quiet, watching your flustered expression vary from your hands along your cup before setting it down beside you. Taking this chance, he gently grasps hold of your hand before it had a chance to retreat into the safety of your jacket pocket.
“I meant what I said,” Jason speaks again in a more calm, soothing tone of voice. “I know this ain’t traditional. I don’t exactly do traditional, but … I wanna marry you.”
His hand squeezes yours, making you hesitant to speak further. He was serious, the realization was heavily daunting in such a unique way. A unique, exciting way.
“Why?” You look at him again, swallowing slowly as he leans closer, nearly making you anticipate a kiss.
Instead, his forehead settles against yours, taking in the rich, crystalline serenity of your unique, radiant beauty.
“Because,” he mutters, “You waited for me.”
Dedication, patience, hope; That was worth more to him than gold, worth much more than the bag of valuables he knew you didn’t steal.
“I have a ring for ya,” Jason continues on whilst his thumb strokes along the back of your hand. “If you don’t like it, I’ll getcha whatever you want. We’ll have as big of a wedding as you want, then we’re gonna go somewhere.”
“Somewhere?” You whisper.
“Yeah. Just you and me; no crime fighting, no danger. Nothing. Just us.”
“Just us?”
“Yeah babygirl,” Jason peers into your eyes, wanting to coo at your noticeable tears. “Wherever you want. I’ll follow you anywhere.”
You just needed to say yes.
You couldn’t help but giggle with an overwhelming mix of emotions, your trembling hand reaching up to settle behind his hooded head.
“Why do I feel like,” you nearly laugh in between your words. “Why do I get this feeling you put the ring in my cup?”
“An’ ruin a perfectly good five dollar shake?” Jason expresses in surprise, chuckling along with your giddy laughter. “C’mon babe. I’m not that inconspicuous.”
“Then where is it?”
Jason tilts his head, raising a brow. “Why’re you asking, kitty cat? Plan on stealing it?”
“No,” you muse, your nose nearly bumping against his.
“You expecting me to slip it on right about now?” His hand finds purchase along your hip, cradling your supple body. “Dosent work unless you—“
You cut him off via a kiss, one he graciously accepts.
You tasted like cherry sublime mixed with the highlife, a good life where you always existed in it. If he were to die again, he needed to know that he went with one successful accomplishment. Marrying his Robinhood sweetheart.
“Yes,” you whisper, those tears you worked so hard to hold back cascading down your cheeks. “I’ll marry you, Jason.”
In knowing him since he was Robin, till you met him as the muscular, ever brooding Red Hood, you’ve never seen the man smile so big. His eyes shining brighter than the moon that was ever so beautiful tonight.
Grasping hold of your hips, he pulls you into his arms, carelessly tilting over his half finished milkshake cup in the process. His lips find you once more after sitting you in his lap, muscled forearms snuggly hugging around your waist, holding you as physically close to him as possible.
“The ring I gotcha-“ he muffles against your pretty lips in between kisses. “- is at my place. Waiting for you—on my bed.”
Your laugh was all you could respond with. From the very start, it’s as if he planned this all out. All it took was a bag of misplaced valuables and the promise of a five dollar shake.
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strang3lov3 · 10 months
Text
Self-Indulgent Tendencies
dbf!joel x fem reader
Summary: while on your night walks, you decide to sneak into your dad’s best friend’s pool. When you’re finally caught you’re faced with two options: Joel can call the cops on you or teach you a lesson himself.
Warnings: pervy!Joel, slightly creepy joel, manipulative joel, kinda dark joel, slight dubcon but it’s not crazy, public nudity, semi public sex, rough sex, blowjobs, masturbation, attempted orgasm denial, reader calls joel daddy (couldn’t help myself), unprotected piv, voyeurism, oral f and m receiving, substantial age gap (reader is 20s and joel is 40s, honestly picture whatever age gap you want. I think the girthier the sexier LOL) I was feeling filthy sorry
Word Count: 4.1k
A/N: this poisoned my mind and I had to write it. Please enjoy <3 I would like to dedicate this story to @toxicanonymity who inspires me to be myself and have fun when writing this absolute filth ❤️
@speckledemerald deserves some credit with creating this story. Thank you for brainstorming with me and proofreading and your words of encouragement love!!! 😘❤️😘❤️😘
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Texas in July. You did not miss it one bit, yet here you were, walking in the smoldering heat wave, beads of sweat dripping down your body. It was the kind of heat that weighed heavily in the air and suffocated your lungs with each and every breath.
After graduation in May, you moved back home, settling on a cute little townhouse not far from where your parents lived.  
As you walk, you wave hi to the Adlers, then to Joel, who’s mowing his lawn. Oh yeah, he’s in this neighborhood too. 
Joel, your dad’s best friend since…long before you were around. Joel, with his dark curls, his patchy beard and thick mustache, his sparkly dark eyes, his syrupy-sweet smile. He looks sinfully handsome mowing his lawn in his denim cutoffs and white tank top, his sun kissed skin shimmering in sweat.
He smiles back with a wave, and you walk right past, continuing your walk. It’s late in the evening, the sun is beginning to disappear. This is the best time to get your exercise, you’ve decided. It’s when the air is coolest, but still, not quite cool enough. 
 You loop around the neighborhood a couple times more and before you know it, you’re back at Joel’s house. You see the waves of his pool out of the corner of your eye, the moonlight dancing on the dark water. 
How refreshing it would be to swim right now, you think to yourself. Joel’s pool is big, so clean, and refreshing. You’ve spent many barbecues in his pool, long summer days filled with chicken fights, swimming contests, seeing how long you could hold your breath under the water. 
Fuck it. 
You tiptoe to his pool, climb up the steps of his deck and begin stripping articles of clothing. It’ll be just for a minute, you decide. Just a quick dip to cool off, then you’re gone, and your daddy’s best friend is none the wiser. You strip completely bare and dip a toe in the cool waters, then quietly slink into the pool.
The water is soothing against your hot skin, the familiar smell of chlorine filling your senses. You wade for a bit, then dip your head under the water, doing a little flip. Pure fucking bliss. 
Joel is in his bedroom, he thought he heard his deck creak. He figured it was the raccoons again, Sarah was always feeding them cookies and chips that she shouldn’t have been. But then he hears a splash.
Joel peels his bedsheets off his body and takes a few steps towards the window, finding a young woman in his pool. Naked, her bare ass exposed to the air as she swims across the pool back to the deck. It’s only when she hoists herself up and steals a towel from the basket on the deck he recognizes her as you. 
And dear lord, what a fucking sight you are. Your dripping skin illuminated by the pale moonlight, your nipples pebbled and perky from the cool water. You towel your body, then your hair, and then dress yourself. And as quickly as you got in the pool, you leave, hanging your towel over the ledge of the deck. 
Joel bites back a groan and palms his cock. He tries his best to shake the images of you, his best friend’s daughter, from his mind. But he can’t. Instead, he strokes his cock furiously, your supple tits and plump ass tattooed on his eyes. Who the fuck do you think you are, swimming bare assed in his pool? Before he even realizes just how close he is, he spills onto himself, making a mess on his clothing. 
The next week, you do it again. You walk past Joel’s house, Joel chokes on the mouthful of beer when you wave to him and Tommy. 
Tommy smirks at Joel’s mishap. “She sure grew up, huh?”
Joel swallows thickly. “Yeah,” is all he can choke out. Tommy doesn’t know the half of it. He knows your skimpy workout shorts and sports bras, but he doesn’t know what’s underneath. Not how Joel does. 
On your way home, you eye Joel’s pool. Empty and dark, waiting for you. You tiptoe through the grass for a second time, strip bare, and dip into the water. This time, you swim for a longer duration, feeling confident after pulling off last week’s stunt with ease.
What you don’t realize (other than the fact Joel watched you through his window last week and subsequently masturbated to his memories of your naked body) is that Joel is in his garage, waiting for you. He stands in the doorway, hidden by the shadows. He planned it this way when you walked past his house. This way, he thinks, he can get a closer look. Watch how your body moves, hear the noises you make. 
When you dip under the water, Joel quickly sneaks to the deck and ruffles through your clothing, finding your panties. He grips them tightly, hides back in the garage, and watches you emerge from the water. This time, he jerks off to you with your worn panties clutched into his hand, held under his nose as he inhales your scent. When he comes, he feels a tinge of guilt, but pushes it deep in the back of his mind. He’s dead fucking wrong for this, but so are you, after all. 
When you step out of the pool, you can’t find a towel. Joel smirks mischievously at your confusion when you realize your panties are missing too. Did you forget to wear them? Left with no choice, you put on your clothes over your wet skin, your dripping hair soaking your t-shirt. You slip on your sandals and quickly sprint around his house to make your way home. 
Only, you run right into Joel, literally. His torso is firm and he grabs your shoulders with his big hands. 
“Woah there, kiddo. Finishing up your walk?” he asks you. 
“Y-yeah,” you stutter. “Just on my way home.”
Joel eyes you as he blocks you with his big imposing body on the sidewalk, still holding you tightly by the shoulders. You feel small, vulnerable. “Whatcha all wet for?”
You freeze, any words you can think of getting caught in your throat. Joel raises an eyebrow in suspicion, or entertainment, at the way you try to think up a lie. “Got caught in some sprinklers,” you mumble. Your eyes dart past him, but his pupils stay focused on yours. It makes your cheeks burn. 
You’re not much better of a liar now than when you were a teenager, he notes. He loves watching you lie to his face when he knows your dirty little secret. He’s made himself come twice now to your dirty little secret, after all. It’s really quite amusing. 
You stay frozen in place, Joel’s intense gaze making you uncomfortable. There’s something so off about his demeanor. There’s something unnerving about him, he seems too cool. Shouldn’t he be as startled as you are?
“Gotta get home. Goodnight, Joel,” you pull away from his grasp. You need to get out of this situation before he puts the pieces together, if he hasn’t already.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,”
A few days later, on your regular evening walk, you pass Joel’s house. This time, Joel’s alone on his porch and sipping a beer. 
“Get your ass up here and have a drink with me!” he shouts at you, a playful tone in his voice. “Now that you’re legal.”
You blush at the memory he’s referencing. You were only a teenager, couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen. But how rebellious you were. 
You snuck into his garage, a cigarette between your lips, and stole a bottle of vodka from his freezer. As you turned to leave, you saw Joel in the doorway, his expression somewhere between upset and amused. He said nothing as he took the ice cold bottle of alcohol from your hands, his fingers gracing lightly over yours. 
He motioned for you to sit in the dusty patio chairs by the fridge as he put the bottle of vodka back in his freezer. Then Joel pulled the cigarette from your lips and took a drag, letting the ash fall on the cold cement of the garage floor. “S’not good to smoke,” he exhaled, smoke rising out of his mouth as he sat in the chair closest to the fridge. 
Once you sat down, he passed the cigarette back to you and you took a drag of your own. “I know,” you mumbled, unable to meet his face. You could handle the disappointed expressions of your parents, but Joel? Forget it. 
“I won’t snitch to your parents if you quit f’me. Can you do that?” 
You nodded shyly. 
“Good girl,” he said. You shared the rest of the cigarette before Joel smudged it out on the floor with his boot. He pulled you up out of your seat, shoved his hand into your jacket pocket, and stole your pack of cigarettes. Then he sent you home. 
That was the night your budding infatuation with Joel really took off. Of course, you were attracted to him before, but it was something about that night. The way he called you good girl, how he took your hand. How he shared your cigarette, the thought of tasting his lips without actually kissing him. 
You never smoked another cigarette again.
“Beer?” he offers you. 
You don’t really like beer, but you do like Joel. “Sure,”
He walks into his garage to grab you one, opens it and then hands it to you. “Settlin’ in okay?” he asks you as he pulls you in for a hug, perhaps squeezing you a bit too tight. 
“I’m doing okay, yeah,” “Stayin’ out of trouble?” he teases you. 
You roll your eyes. “Yes, Joel. I’m staying out of trouble,”
Joel winks at you, pulling another swig of his beer. There’s something about him, he’s got that same smug look from the other night when you ran into him. Like he knows something you don’t. “Sure, kiddo,”
You smile shyly, unsure of how exactly to respond. 
“How about this heat, hm? You keepin’ cool?”
“Oh, yeah,”
“S’good,” Joel smirks again. You can’t help but squint at him, unsure of what he’s getting at. He’s not talking about–he doesn’t know. Right?
Sarah interrupts then, calling for Joel to come in and watch American Idol with her. Joel bids you goodbye, you finish up the last of your beer and leave, starting for your walk once again. 
When you cross Joel’s house on your way home, you battle yourself in your mind. Today is by far the hottest day of the summer, the heat never once breaking. You’re conflicted: on one hand, you’re dripping sweat and aching for the cool waters of Joel’s pool to soothe you, but on the other, you risk getting caught. It seems that Joel is onto you already, but he would have confronted you. Right?
You decide to go for a swim. Walking into Joel’s backyard like it’s your own, you strip and sink into the pool. You dip your head under the water, doing flips and twirling in the water. The starlight dances over your skin, you look like Aphrodite herself. 
Joel just watches you, quietly. This time he’s not in the garage, not in his bedroom. He’s next to the deck, watching how your perky breasts break through the surface of the dark water. He’s sick of being teased by you. It’s his turn to fuck with you. 
Joel discreetly grabs your pile of clothes and a nearby water gun. Ever so subtly, he fills the water gun with the pool water, and waits. It’s not long before you swim back to the deck and you realize your clothes are gone. You lean over the edge of the pool, checking to see. Did they fall under the deck? Where the fuck did they go? How are you supposed to get home?
You feel a squirt of water on your asscheek as you’re leaning over the edge. You whip around, not seeing anyone. This is getting fucking eerie, you search for your clothes frantically now. 
Phwit phoo! You hear a whistle and whip your head back around, and there’s Joel. Right in front of you, holding a squirt gun. “Tsk. Thought you said you were stayin’ out of trouble,” he chides. He doesn’t look the slightest bit surprised or angry. He just looks like…he knows. Like he’s been watching you this whole time. Has he?
“Joel!” you gasp, quickly covering your breasts. 
“You lookin’ for these, sweetheart?” Joel holds up your pile of clothes in his hand for you to see. Your mouth drops open. “Tresspassin’ and public nudity ain’t no joke, you know.” “Joel, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was–”
“All y’had to do was ask me if ya wanted to use my pool, honey. You know I woulda’ let you. This heat wave and all,” he stares at you, eyebrows raised, playing with the squirt gun in his hand. He squirts it a few times into the water before tossing it aside. “Certainly wouldn’t want you to get heatstroke.”
“I know, I just–”
“You just what?” Joel interrupts you, “I know what your problem is, honey. You still got that rebellious streak in ya. S’that why you’re wearin’ these slutty panties, hm? Skinny dippin’ in my pool every night?” he holds up the panties, lacy and cheeky. “C’mon now, you know better.”
You reach for the panties, your heart beating through your chest and your cheeks on fire. Joel pulls them out of your reach. “Ah ah ah, mine now. You’re in trouble now, sweetheart. Since you wanna act like a fuckin’ slut and whore yourself out for the whole neighborhood to see,” he tuts disapprovingly at you, “Where’s your self respect?”
You swallow thickly. You don’t know what to say, what to do. You’re caught red handed.
Joel climbs up the steps, each thud of his foot hitting the deck like thunder in your ears. “I’ve got half a mind to call the cops,” he mutters. 
“No, Joel, don’t. Please, don’t,” you plead in desperation.
“I dunno, kiddo. This is pretty serious. Think it’s about time you face some real consequences,” his voice is dark and unwavering, you know he means business. “The way I see it, hon, you got two options,” he starts, sitting down at the pool. He dangles his legs next to you, sending ripples your way. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers and a thin gray t-shirt. “Cops can teach you a lesson or I can. What’ll it be?”
It’s no question. “You,” you say. “You, Joel. Please, don’t call the cops.”
Joel chuckles. “Smart girl. First good decision you’ve made in a long time, sweetheart. A long time,”
He takes off his shirt, his tan skin glowing under the sparkling stars and moonlight. Then he takes his cock out of his boxers, already hard and leaking precum. Your mouth drops open, knowing exactly the type of punishment you’re in for. “You know what I think?” he starts, exhaling deeply, “I think you’re bored.”
“What?”
“Y’need somethin’ to keep you busy, out of trouble,” he continues, “Let’s start with that filthy mouth of yours, hm?” Joel begins stroking his member, smearing precum with each pass of his hand.
Desire shakes your bones and you nod, understanding where this is headed. 
“Always thought you’d be nicer with a cock down that throat of yours. Shut you right up so you can’t backtalk me. Now get your ass over here, girl,”
You swim over to him, situating yourself between his thighs. 
“C’mon, open wide for me. Know you can,” he commands you, and you part your lips around the angry tip of his cock, so rosy and agitated.  “Suck.”
You don’t waste a moment. You drag your tongue up and down his shaft, swirling a couple of times over his tip. You savor the salty tangy flavor of his skin, so soft and smooth under your tongue. 
“Quit your teasin’,” Joel shoves your head down on his cock, hard. You gag and sputter onto him, pulling back to catch your breath. Your struggle only encourages him, he forces your head to stay down. 
“You’re gonna take my cock all the way down your throat, baby. Just relax, open wide,”
Your jaw is already sore trying to accommodate his member. He’s thick and long, filling your mouth completely. You begin bobbing your head up and down, up and down. Massaging him with your tongue, tracing over his bulging veins. 
“That’s it,” he praises you softly. “Doin’ so well f’me. Always knew you’d suck me real good.
You cup his balls in your hand and continue sucking, making a mess of his cock. Spit dribbling down your chin and into the thick tuft of curls at the base of his dick. 
Your jaw is aching, but you don’t dare stop.
“Look at you,” he coos, his strong hand caressing the side of your face before settling at your jaw. “Good lord.”
He bucks into your mouth, pushing you to your limits. He’s letting out little grunts and groans now and then, and then you feel his cock twitch in your mouth. 
Joel pulls you off his cock, a trail of spit connecting his member to your lips. Then he grabs you by your biceps into his lap. “Gonna let me fuck some sense into you, hm?”
Your heart jumps at his request, but you’re not ready. “No, Joel, need you to touch me first,” you beg. After the way his thick cock made your jaw sore, you know your pussy needs warming up to accommodate his massive size. 
Joel chuckles darkly, one hand firmly gripping your ass and the other holding his cock. He lines himself up to your entrance, notching the tip at your hole, not yet ready to take him. “This is your punishment. Ain’t s’posed to feel good, honey,” he says, his voice cool and collected. 
“No, Joel,” you protest, wiggling your hips away from him. Your heart is pounding, your stomach drops. 
“Maybe,” Joel grunts, both hands now holding your asscheeks in a vice grip. “If you’re good t’me and keep out of trouble, I’ll love you a little sweeter next time,”
He doesn’t give you a moment to process his words before he unceremoniously pulls you down on his cock. The stretch and burn is unimaginable, your eyes blur with tears and you nearly scream, but Joel covers your mouth to muffle your shock. 
“You be quiet,” he warns you with a stern voice. You’re on top, but he’s the one in control, pushing and pulling your hips up and down on his cock. Using you as his own fuck toy. You bite into his hand, doing your best to hold back your screams. 
“Joel,” you cry into his palm, tears falling down your cheeks and over his knuckles. The pain is bordering on unbearable.
“Relax,” he commands you, his voice somewhat soothing. “Just relax f’me, hon. Quit squeezin’, open up,”
He’s right. You just need to relax your muscles, let yourself take him. As he fucks into you, you focus on the small amount of pleasure you can feel deep inside. It grows larger with every thrust, and soon enough, the painful stretch is replaced by pleasure.
You sigh in contentment, savoring every delicious thrust. Joel fucks into you with such fervor, hitting that sweet spot inside you with each and every one of his movements. “Oh, Joel,” you moan. Your arms are wrapped around him, your head falling to his neck. You bite into his neck and inhale his musky scent, woody and slightly sweaty. That, coupled with the smell of the chlorine fills your nostrils, a wonderful combination.  
“Jesus, girl,” he whispers, his hot breath making your skin prickle. “Lettin’ me fuck you like this for the whole neighborhood to see. You like this, don’t you?”
“Yes, daddy,” you gasp. 
Joel stops, pulling you back from him. “Daddy, huh? S’that how we’re doin’ things?”
You blush, unsure of what to say. You didn’t mean to say that. 
Joel fills the silence. “You’re worse off than I thought,” he says like it’s a fact. You can’t quite place his tone, or how he feels. “You’re a lost cause, baby.” he exaggerates his sigh, disappointed.
You look to the side, trying to think of something, anything to respond to him with. 
“S’alright, though. I like you like this,” he begins fucking you mercilessly again. “All mine.”
“Fuck, Joel,” you scramble on top of him, grasping at his toned body to keep from falling into the water. 
“Mhm. Who am I?” he grunts through gritted teeth. He drags a hand up your torso and pinches at your pebbled nipple. 
“Daddy,” you whine. He bounces you up and down his cock, fingers painting bruises into your soft skin.
“S’right,” he mumbles. 
Joel fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before, deep and hard and intentional. His movements are precise, calculated. You’re clay in his hands, he’s molding you into what he wants. With each movement, you become his entirely.
You’re breathless as he thrusts into you. His feet splash in the water, you feel drops on your back every so often. His calloused and rough hands holding you tightly. His warm torso pressed to yours, one of his hands groping at your soft breasts.
He feels you squirm, he feels your pussy clench around his cock. Your breaths are frantic and uneven. “You’re close, aren’t ya?”
“Yeah,” you whine. He’s reading your body like a fucking book. 
“That’s just too bad,” he tuts. Your stomach fills with dread, knowing what his next words likely will be. 
“Joel, please,” you cry. 
“Mm mm,” he mumbles, his eyes fixed on yours. His eyes are dark, full of lust. Desire. Desire to control you, make you his and his alone.
“Let me come. Please, daddy,” you grind your hips into his, feeling the friction of his hair on your clit. 
“I don’t think you deserve that, my love,” his voice is sickeningly sweet, full of fake sympathy for your predicament. 
“No, m’so close, please. N-fuck, not gonna last,” 
“Don’t you dare, sweetheart,” he warns you, never once changing his pace as he fucks you. “You’ll be in deeper shit than ya are now, I don’t think you need that,”
“Please,” you cry, feeling the beginning of your orgasm bloom deep in the pit of your stomach. “Please, please, please,”
You can’t help it. You can’t stave off your release any longer. With whimpers and moans, you come all over his cock, your slick dripping from your cunt and painting his lap. It sends bolts of electricity through your veins and you shudder uncontrollably, mouth wide open and your eyes screwed shut. 
Your pussy quivers, squeezing and massaging Joel’s cock is all he needed. Making a strangled sort of groan, he spills into you, hot ropes of his come shooting inside you and painting your walls. He holds you tight enough to break bone as he fucks you through your shared releases. 
With the stars in the sky now behind your eyes, your chest heaving up and down in gasping breaths, Joel lifts you off of his cock. Your skin is damp with sweat and you dip back into the water. And to think you thought you were hot after your late night walks. 
Joel watches your slick and his own come drip from your spent cunt onto the deck, then into the pool. “Look at this godforsaken mess you made,” he points to his lap, glistening with your juices. “Naughty fuckin’ girl. You just can’t help yourself.”
Godforsaken mess is right. You look at him with wide eyes, speechless. He stares right back at you with his own intense and piercing gaze, that same look when he caught you stealing his vodka.
How far away that night seems now. It hits you, what you just did with your father’s best friend. Joel, who practically raised you, who taught you to drive a stick and held your graduation party at his house. All of those barbecues, those hot summer nights spent on his deck, the same deck you desecrated just moments ago. 
You just can’t help yourself. 
“Shoot, you poor thing,” he sighs, tucking himself back into his boxers. He doesn’t bother putting his shirt back on, but he does grab your panties and clutches them in his fist. “You’re fucked now.”
Joel’s legs splash in the water as he stands up and goes back inside his house, then tosses you a clean towel from inside. 
You really are fucked now.
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Note
Reader is dating Jeremiah and sees him and belly kissing. She then goes to Conrad who then comforts her and possibly leads to a smut? In the end have Conrad and reader date
I started singing Better than revenge in my head when reading this XD I couldn't not write it. Also, I did not make them date as I think it would be too much too fast
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Angry tears cascaded down your cheeks, the image of Belly kissing Jeremiah relentlessly haunting your thoughts. You thought Belly was your friend, that Jeremiah was loyal — you were visibly wrong on that one. Their betrayal cut deep, a painful cliché straight out of a movie. The classic scene of the boyfriend caught kissing his girlfriend's friend played out before your eyes.
Amidst the partygoers, you waved your way down the stairs slipping ‘sorry’s and ‘excuse me’s, desperate to escape the house. You couldn’t be under the same roof as them.
You came to this party in your best dress, with the intention of asking Jeremiah to stay over for the night, but now all you wanted was to hit him where it hurt — or cut his tongue in punishment for sticking it in Belly’s mouth. 
When you reached the living room, a hand caught your arm, halting you.
‘’Are you okay?’’
Your eyes were blurry with tears, but you knew that voice. It was Conrad. 
You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, probably smearing some of your mascara. ‘’Yeah, I…no. Nothing is okay,’’ you managed to utter.
‘’What happened?’’ he asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.
You hesitated, the weight of the betrayal weighing heavily on your heart.
‘’Where is Jere? Do you want me to get him—’’ 
‘’No! No. I don’t want to see him,’’ you replied firmly, the thought of facing Jeremiah unbearable.
Conrad nodded, figuring that his brother was the reason for your tears. ‘’Okay. Eh…do you want me to take you home? I’ve just drunk a third of my beer. I’m good to drive.’’ 
Home sounded lonely, but you would rather be alone in your big house. The thought of bumping into Jeremiah or Belly, or worse, encountering them together, was enough to make your stomach churn with unease.
You sat in silence in his jeep as he drove, pushing away the memories you had made with Jeremiah in the same car. All the singing parties, the afternoons getting ice cream, or simply driving you home after staying for dinner at the summer house. 
Every now and then, Conrad’s eyes would leave the road and check on you. He didn’t know what to say, or how to bring you comfort, so he stayed quiet. He respected your silence and space. You’ll talk to him if you want, right?
Minutes went by, and the secret was getting too heavy to bear…so you just dropped the bomb.  
‘’I caught Jeremiah kissing Belly.’’ 
Conrad slammed the brakes, the jeep coming to an abrupt halt. ‘’What the fuck?’’ 
The sudden halt jolted you forward, and your hands instinctively gripped the dashboard to steady yourself. The weight of your confession hung heavy in the air, the silence between you and Conrad becoming palpable. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief, searching your face for any signs that you were joking. But the pain etched on your features told him otherwise.
‘’Jere...and Belly?’’ Conrad's voice was laced with disbelief, his words barely a whisper.
You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as well. ‘’I was looking for Belly. Gigi told me she saw her going upstairs to the bathroom, so I went and— I caught them kissing in the hallway. I-I couldn't believe my eyes.’’ Tears welled up in your eyes again. ‘’I never saw it coming, nor would I have suspected it. Belly and I have gotten so close since the debutante lessons. We were good friends, but I guess I underestimated just who I was dealing with…’’
Anger flickered in Conrad's, momentarily overriding his shock. He was usually the one who fucked things up, but Jeremiah took the cake with that one. ‘’I’m not taking anyone’s defense, what they did was fucking shitty, but Jere is not innocent in this. It takes two people to kiss.’’
You rolled your eyes, but you understood what he meant. ‘’I know. I’m angry at Jere too.’’
God, you were so fucking angry at him. All the plans you had made for next year were falling apart. Visiting him for Thanksgiving, the ski trip during the holidays, his birthday. Everything was called off. 
‘’Does he know that you saw them?’’ 
You shook your head. 
How were you going to confront him about it? Would he come to you and tell you what happened? Will he blame it on the alcohol? That’s such a shitty excuse.
‘’This hurt so much, Con.I can't believe he would throw away our relationship like this.’’ 
Shifting in his seat, Conrad reached out, his hand gently brushing against your tear-stained cheek, wiping away a lingering tear with his thumb. ‘’My brother’s a jerk. He doesn’t know what he just lost.’’
You nodded, grateful for Conrad's support, even in the midst of his own familial ties. 
‘’Thank you for being there for me,’’ you said as his thumb continued to caress your cheek, his touch a source of comfort amidst the turmoil. 
‘’I’ll always be there for you.’’ Conrad's eyes met yours, so blue and beautiful even under a yellow street-lamp light.  
Without thinking, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, forgetting that you were still in the middle of the road. Conrad's breath hitched, taken aback by your sudden action, but he quickly reciprocated, meeting your lips in a gentle kiss. Had the situation been turned around, you would have thought that Conrad was taking advantage of your emotional vulnerability, but you wanted this. You wanted to kiss him.
Your hands went to Conrad’s hair, running your fingers through it as the hand still on your cheek moved to pull you closer to him. He went to deepen the kiss, a sweet gasp when feeling his tongue brushing yours. This should feel wrong, but it didn’t. 
Conrad broke the kiss first, needing to take a breath and a moment to collect his thoughts. As much as he wanted to keep kissing you, he couldn't. ‘’We can’t be doing this. Not after…’’ He shook his head. ‘’That would be taking advantage of you and I can’t do that.’’  You unbuckled your seatbelt and scooted closer to the middle console to pull Conrad by his plaid shirt, your fingers gripping the soft fabric. ‘’I want this. I want you,’’ you said, looking up at him.  ‘’I just want to…forget. Make me forget, Conrad.’’
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sinkovia · 23 days
Text
-`♡´- ANON ASK -`♡´-
Anon requested that the ask be posted after the fic.
Pairings: SImon Riley x GN!Reader
Warnings: Angst.
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As the days passed by, your once perfect relationship with Simon began to fracture. It seemed as though the idyllic days you once shared were slipping away, replaced by a constant tension that hung heavy in the air.
The source of the arguments seems to stem from your "nagging," as Simon puts it. But to you, it's an expression of love and fear - a desperate attempt to hold onto something precious in a world where loss and danger lurk around every corner.
From the beginning, you both understood the risks in your line of work, but it's only recently that the reality of those risks has begun to weigh heavily on your heart.
You've voiced your fears to Simon, your desire to retire together and find solace in a life far removed from the dangers of combat. But each time you broach the subject, Simon's reaction is the same - cold, defensive, and laced with hurtful words that cut deep. It's a cycle that plays out time and time again: he pushes you away with his sharp words, only to come crawling back the next day, remorseful and apologetic.
In those moments of reconciliation, he speaks to you with tenderness and warmth, promising that he's always careful on missions and that this is the life he wants. He reassures you that perhaps, in a few years' time, he could think about settling down. And each time, you find yourself giving in, desperate to believe that his words hold truth.
But as the fear and dread of losing him creep back in, the same arguments resurface, and the cycle repeats itself endlessly, leaving you trapped in a loop of hope and despair. 
The tension in your life reaches a boiling point when you're summoned to the briefing room, where Captain Price lays out the details of a harrowing mission. Your heart sinks as you realize the gravity of the task at hand - infiltrating the heart of Makarov's forces, your fluency in Russian making you the only person who could do it. It's a suicide mission, with slim chances of success and even slimmer chances of survival.
As Captain Price outlines the high-risk, high-reward nature of the operation, your mind races with conflicting emotions. On one hand, success could mean a significant blow to Makarov's forces, potentially saving countless lives and shifting the tide of the war. On the other hand, the thought of risking your life - and potentially throwing away any chance of a future with Simon - fills you with fear.
You weigh the options carefully, torn between duty and personal desire. The stakes couldn't be higher, and the choice before you feels like a cruel test of loyalty and sacrifice. As you leave the briefing room, the weight of the decision hangs heavy on your shoulders, uncertainty clouding your thoughts as you grapple with the choice before you.
You step into your shared apartment, the weight of the impending conversation heavy on your shoulders. Simon is seated on the couch, absorbed in the television. With a heavy sigh, you make your way over and take a seat next to him, steeling yourself for what's to come.
"We need to talk, Si,"
Simon sighs and reaches to turn off the TV, a resigned expression crossing his features. "Here we go again," he mutters under his breath.
Your heart sinks at his dismissive tone, but you push forward nonetheless. “Price gave me a solo mission,” you watch his reaction closely.
Simon quirks a brow but remains silent, prompting you to continue. “He wants me to infiltrate Makarov's forces,”
“Sounds risky,” Simon comments, his tone neutral as he leans back on the couch, crossing his arms. You take a deep breath, "It's a suicide mission," you confess, locking eyes with him, searching for any sign of understanding or concern.
Silence hangs in the air as you wait for his response, “When do you leave?” he asks, his response devoid of the emotion you had hoped for.
Does he even hear you? Does he even care?
“Did you hear what I said? It’s a suicide mission. Do you even care Simon?” you press, desperation creeping into your voice.
Simon releases a frustrated breath, irritation evident in his demeanor. “Of course, I fucking care, y/n. But like I've said a million times before, we chose this profession. We know the risks that come with our job. Any of our missions could easily turn into a suicide mission.”
Your heart sinks at his callous response, the weight of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “And if I died on a mission, would you be okay with that? With living without me? With going on with life without me?!” you challenge, tears welling in your eyes.
“Seeing how you're always fucking nagging me, yeah, maybe I’d be okay with that!” Simon's harsh words cut through you like a knife, leaving you reeling in disbelief.
Your lip quivers, and you shake your head, unable to comprehend the cruelty of his words. “You're being mean. You don’t mean that Si, I know you don’t,” you protest, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I do. I mean every fucking word,” Simon retorts, his voice rising in anger. “Do you know how easy it would be to find someone else who will give me what I want? I can never get peace when you're around. We are done, y/n. Don't bother coming home after your mission.”
The finality of his words crushes you, leaving you speechless and broken. With tears streaming down your face, you cover your mouth with your hand, muffling the sobs that threaten to escape. Simon turns on his heel and storms out of the apartment, leaving you alone in the wake of his harsh words. 
With a heavy heart, you rise from the couch and make your way to your room, your mind consumed by the weight of the decision ahead. As you gather the necessities for the mission, a wave of despair washes over you.
If Simon wasn't in your life, what else did you have to live for? There had been multiple missions you had turned down in the past, knowing they were nothing but one-way trips. But now, without Simon by your side, there was nothing holding you back.
Stepping into Price’s office, you steel yourself for the conversation ahead. You inform him of your decision to go through with the mission, his surprise is evident, but he and Laswell offer words of encouragement, instilling in you a sense of hope. With your skills as an infiltrator and your Russian background, they assure you that you stand a fighting chance. After all, who would suspect one of their own?
Despite the uncertainty and the weight of the task ahead, a glimmer of hope begins to flicker within you. Within a matter of hours, you find yourself on a plane headed to Russia, the gravity of your decision weighing heavily on your mind. Simon however remains oblivious to your departure, unaware of the path you've chosen. 
Back at home, he returns that night with your favorite takeout and a bouquet of flowers, his heart heavy with remorse and determination. With each step, he replays his apology in his head, rehearsing the words he's been meaning to say. He knows he's messed up, and he's desperate to make things right. He wants to change, to be a better man for you.
Simon's mind swirls with thoughts of seeking therapy, of learning to control his temper and his sharp tongue. He knows he's hurt you deeply with his words, words he never truly meant. He loves you more than anything, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to prove it. But as he steps into the house, the atmosphere is heavy with silence. The air feels cold and unwelcoming.
“Y/n?” He calls out for you, his voice tinged with concern, but there's no response.
Worry gnaws at him as he wanders through the darkened rooms, searching for any sign of you. Finally, he enters the bedroom, and his heart sinks as he sees a note lying on the bed, illuminated by the faint light filtering in through the window. With trembling hands, he picks up the note, his heart pounding in his chest as he reads your words. 
Simon,
By the time you read this, I'll be on a plane to Russia. I've made the decision to go through with it, despite the risks, and I wanted you to know why.
I've heard your words echoing in my mind, the ones about finding someone else who will give you what you want, about never getting peace when I'm around. And so, I've decided to honor your wishes. Once I finish this mission, I'll find my own place, and you won't have to deal with my constant nagging anymore. Your life will finally be at peace, just as you've always wanted.
I want you to know that I've always turned down these types of missions in the past. This isn't the first time Price has offered them to me. But if I had known sooner that you didn't care whether I went on them or not, I would have gone sooner. I'm sorry for making your life so miserable, for not realizing sooner that I was the problem.
I hope that you find peace now, Simon. I hope that you find someone who can give you what you want, someone who can make you happy. You deserve that much, at least.
Take care of yourself.
Yours always, Y/n
With each word, his heart sinks deeper, the weight of your words bearing down on him with crushing force. Tears blur his vision as he reads your farewell, your words cutting through him like a knife. The realization of the pain he's caused you hits him like a tidal wave, leaving him gasping for air as guilt gnaws at his conscience.
When he reaches the part where you promise to honor his wish and stay out of his life after your mission, Simon's heart shatters into a million pieces. The thought of you willingly walking away from him, all because of his own hurtful words and actions, is almost too much to bear.
He crumples the letter in his trembling hands, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs as he struggles to come to terms with the magnitude of his mistakes. The weight of regret hangs heavy in the air as he realizes the depth of the love he's lost, the love he may never have the chance to regain if you don’t come back from the mission.
The suicide mission.
In that moment, he breaks down completely, the full weight of his actions crashing over him like a tidal wave. Seeing how much he's hurt you, how much he's pushed you away to point that you accepted the mission, shatters him to his core.
With each tear that falls, Simon's resolve crumbles, replaced by a deep and profound sense of regret. He wishes he could turn back time, take back the hurtful words he's spoken, and hold you close, promising to never let you go. But it's too late now, and all he can do is sit in silence, praying to a higher form to keep you safe, to let you come back to him alive.
The next day, Simon walked into Price’s office, his heart heavy with worry and anticipation. He needed to know more about your mission, to find any shred of information that could ease his growing anxiety.
Price informed Simon that you had landed in Russia in the early morning hours. However, he delivered the news that communication would be sparse for at least a month. They had scheduled calls planned for updates on the mission status, but they would have to wait until the designated time for you to radio in.
Simon listened intently, understanding the protocol, but inside, fear and dread gnawed at him. The thought of you out there, alone and potentially in danger, filled him with a sense of helplessness.
As the first month passed, Simon waited patiently in the room with Price, every passing minute feeling like an eternity. But as the hours stretched on, there was no sign of communication from you. No Morse code, no call, no comm. Just silence.
Panic began to set in as Simon grappled with the uncertainty of your situation. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the nagging worry that something had gone terribly wrong. But Price remained steadfast in his confidence, assuring Simon that these things happened often, that perhaps you hadn't found the right opportunity to relay a message.
Despite Price's reassurances, Simon couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that gripped him. With each passing day, his fear for your safety only grew stronger, overshadowing any hope he tried to hold onto. But he knew he had to stay strong, to keep faith that you would return safely from your mission.
Month after month passed, and still, there was no word from you. Simon waited patiently by the phone in the comms room center, his heart heavy with worry and uncertainty. He refused to give up on you, clinging to the hope that you would come back to him, despite Price declaring you M.I.A.
Even as Price tried to reason with him, pointing out that none of your mission objectives had been completed in the time you had been gone, Simon remained steadfast in his belief that you were still out there, somewhere, fighting to return to him.
Even as the years passed Simon couldn't bring himself to accept the possibility that you might truly be gone, vanished from his life and the world forever. The thought of living in a world without you was unbearable, and Simon couldn't bear to entertain it.
The last words he had spoken to you echoed in his mind, haunting him with their cruelty. How could he have been so callous, so blind to the pain he was causing you? 
Was this fate's cruel work, forcing him to confront the consequences of his actions? Was this punishment for his harsh words, for pushing you away when he should have pulled you close? Was this what he truly wanted, to be left alone in a world without you?
But even in the depths of his despair, Simon clung to a sliver of hope, refusing to let go of the belief that you would come back to him. He would wait for you, for as long as it took, holding onto the hope that one day, you would return to him and his world would be whole again.
Anon Ask- simon x reader but they are both in the military and reader gets assigned on a suicide mission but has a choice to go or not. reader and simon fight and then they decide to go. feel free not to do this no pressure!!! but if you will dont post the ask until after to make it a little angsty surprise!
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Your Casanova
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~800
Warnings: fluff
Summary: You're the team's jet pilot who always looks forward to spending time with Spencer Reid. His love for you is unconditional.
Square Filled: jet pilot (2021) for @cmbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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You’re in the middle of doing your checklist when Spencer walks onto the jet. He looks to the cockpit and sees you there doing your thing. A bright smile etches on his face, and he steps aside to let his coworkers past him so he can talk to you.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“Spencer!” you grin and look at him. “I’m glad you’re here. How has your week been?”
“I finished ten more books. I would have finished more, but I was a bit busy playing chess at the park with the other kids. I also went to the local library and participated in the local science fair. The kids had good ideas but I helped them hone their craft.”
“Sounds like you had it good.”
“It would have been better with you by my side.”
That makes your cheeks heat to which your copilot smirks. You nudge her leg to get her to shut up. She knows of the little crush you have on Spencer ever since meeting him a few years ago. Hearing about his week makes your day tenfold. You’re the main pilot for the BAU for both A and B Teams. A Team is by far your favorite team because it’s the team Spencer’s on.
While you have to focus on flying, there are times when you can take a small break and let your copilot take the reigns. You and Spencer always have something to talk about no matter the subject because as much as it makes your day to hear about his, it makes his day to hear about yours.
However, it’s not always sunshine and rainbows as Penelope likes to put it. Spencer will be one way when you pick him up at the airport but be another way when you get to take him home. The stress of the case will weigh heavily on his shoulders, so you like to do the little things to help him feel better even if you don’t think they’ll help.
Spencer walks onto the plane after the grueling case you took him to, and you notice how his shoulders sag a bit.
“You got this, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll finish the checklist.”
You leave the cockpit and join Spencer’s side in the small kitchen where he’s making himself some coffee.
“Hey, sunshine,” you say to him.
“Hey,” he says and gives you a half-smile.
“I’m not gonna pretend to know what you’re going through, but I think under the circumstances, you’re doing a good job. You’re the strongest person I know.”
Derek smirks when he hears you subtly flirt with him, which Spencer doesn’t pick up on.
“Thanks,” Spencer smiles.
You get back to the cockpit to get ready for take-off. This flight isn’t as long as some of the others so sPencer decides to spend it taking a nap. When the plane lands, you allow the agents to get off first before you and your copilot do. Spencer and Derek are quietly arguing about something as you pass by them, and then you feel someone crash into your back.
“I am so sorry,” Spencer chuckles nervously.
“That’s okay. Did you need something?”
Spencer looks back at Derek who gives him an encouraging nod.
“Would you like to go out with me on Friday? I know a great Indian place.”
“I love Indian food,” you grin.
“So, is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Um, here is my number.”
He fumbles with his FBI card that has his personal number on there.
“Great. I’ll call you,” you grin and walk off.
As they say, the rest is history. You and Spencer have been in a loving and stable relationship for a year now, and you fall in love with him every single day. You’re piloting for B Team this week, so Spencer planned something special for you when you return. You told him the date and time at which you would be touching down, and he told you he’d been waiting for you at the pickup area.
When you land, you rush to get your things so you can see Spencer sooner. You step into the pickup area and frown when you don’t see your tall boyfriend. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic or trying to find parking. You wait five minutes and grow concerned. He’s never late.
The irrational part of your brain thinks he’s cheating or that he doesn’t love you anymore even though you absolutely know he’d never hurt you like that. You look at the time when you hear two security guards laughing to your right. They’re looking at someone lying on the bench next to them, and when you walk closer, you see it’s Spencer. He’s so tired that he fell asleep waiting for you on the bench with flowers in his hands.
“Man, I bet he’s whipped,” one of them chuckles as they walk past him.
You walk over to him with a smile on your face and put a hand on his cheek gently.
“Spencer, baby?”
He jumps awake at your touch and looks up at you apologetically.
“Sorry, I fell asleep.”
He hands you the flowers that are slightly squished from his body.
“They’re beautiful,” you chuckle and lean down to kiss him. “Come on, Casanova. Let’s go home and fall asleep to Disney movies.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he grins.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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blackhairedjjun · 25 days
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ghosting - c.bg
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pairing: choi beomgyu x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst with a happy ending, some misunderstanding, friends to lovers | word count: 683 | warnings: fighting / arguing, one (1) f word
part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)
prompt - HEAT: while engaged in a passionate argument with one another, sender, in the heat of the moment, blurts out “i love you!” to the receiver. think of like, that glorious trope where people have a huge argument and then suddenly sb drops the mic with “because i’m in love with you!” and silences the other person. u know the trope! (requested by @my313)
author's notes: hello evie! this is such a delightfully dramatic trope and honestly i'd love more opportunities to write for beomgyu hehe, so i'm glad you sent this in! i hope you enjoy!
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“come on, y/n! i never took you for the ghosting type!”
beomgyu sounds more pained than angry when he yells at you. his voice is strained, and you can practically hear the sob caught in his throat in between words. it’s too much for you to bear, so you screw your eyes shut and force yourself to look away from him.
if you look straight at him and see his eyes about to well with tears, you won’t be able to take it.
“i’m not trying to ghost you!” you say, voice shaking. “i just think一 we’ve gotten too dependent一 fuck, is it unreasonable for me to ask for more space?!”
“but you never asked, y/n.” beomgyu’s lip quivers. “you never asked for more space! if you asked i would have given you space. but you just... left!”
“i didn’t just leave! i told you every time, i don’t want to go out and keep seeing you!”
you turn to look at him 一 big mistake. tears are starting to spill down beomgyu’s cheeks, and you can feel your own starting to sting at the corner of your eyes.
“but why?! why do you want to stop seeing me?! did i do anything wrong? why won’t you...”
he lets the question trail off. he stumbles to the wall, leaning on it for support, his gaze at the floor as he tries to hide his tears.
exhaustion hits you and you fall to the floor yourself, ending up seated with your legs folded underneath you.
part of you didn’t want to distance yourself from him. when your long-time best friend started showering you with affection 一 sticking even closer to you at hangouts, giving you little gifts, playing songs for you on his guitar 一 you welcomed the change, and you found your heart beating faster around him. but a strange nervousness started to wrap itself around you, and questions swarmed your thoughts: was beomgyu always like this? did you always feel this way about him? what did it all mean for your friendship?
the questions were too much, and you did the first thing that came to mind: you ran away and shut him out.
now you face the consequences for it. beomgyu leans against the wall of your apartment trying not to fall apart, and you are weighed down on the floor, the questions ringing too loudly in your mind for you to ignore.
he raises his voice again. “wh-what are you so scared of, y/n? why are you so scared of me now?”
“i’m scared that i’m in love with you!”
your hand clasps against your mouth right after the words spill out. you’re trembling. the questions change into emotions: shame, fear, uncertainty. they weight down on you so heavily that you can’t lift your body to stand up.
nice going, you think. i ruined everything.
beomgyu crawls over to you and clasps your hands in his trembling ones. your eyes meet, and by some miracle you don’t feel like crying.
“are... are you crazy?” he says.
“i...”
“i’m in love with you, y/n. all the gifts... the songs...”
“i know. i just... i didn’t know how to handle it一”
beomgyu moves even closer to you, your hands still in his. both of you are trembling too much but you can tell that a new energy has taken over him, from the way his eyes shine.
“why did you run away?”
“i...” you bite your lip. “i don’t know how to love you, gyu...”
he lets out a long, breathy laugh, and the tension in the room evaporates. “honestly, i don’t know how to love you either.”
“i’m sorry, gyu... i’m so, so sorry... i shouldn’t...”
his arms are around you and you breathe in his familiar scent. your heartbeat starts to slow, and the world stops spinning; in his arms, the puzzle pieces of your emotions start to fall into place.
“can we work on this together?” he whispers.
you nod with your head in his chest, and he runs a hand through your hair.
“together.”
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