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notmyneighbor · 28 days

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Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Word Count ~ 2.5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content

Also available on AO3

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.

The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.

There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.

The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.

He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.

Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”

The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”

“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”

“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”

You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.

“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.

You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.

Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.

I say I'll move the mountains

And I'll move the mountains

If he wants them out of the way

You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.

The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.

You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”

“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”

“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.

“You asked me to tell you.”

“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”

Like the wind that shakes the bough

He moves me with a smile

“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”

The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”

“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”

“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”

”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”

You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.

He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.

I say I'll care forever

And I mean forever

He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.

He kisses you.

You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.

Crazy he calls me

Sure, I'm crazy

Crazy in love am I

“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.

His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.

“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.

The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.

There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.

You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.

“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.

The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.

The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.

Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.

The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.

Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.

It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”

You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.

“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.

“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.

“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.

You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”

The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.

“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.

#thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #francis mosses x you #francis mosses x reader #milkman x you #milkman x reader #doppelgänger

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chrollohearttags · 11 months

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plug!connie thinks it’s so cute when reader gets jealous. maybe he took her to a party so he could deal and make some moves and some girl tries to flirt with him and reader gets a lil attitude. he snatches her up real good in the bathroom and tells her that he’s only hers and send her off with a kiss, a smack on her ass and a “stop playing with me ma” 🤭

yessss! Y’all know how I feel about plug connie! 😩 so hey! We coming back to all the good requests this week.

cw: !black fem reader, drug mention, public (?) sex, backshots, breeding, choking, aggressive Connie

“We not gone be here long, lemme just go take care of this real quick and I promise we can go somewhere else..” the very sentence that Connie had uttered to you sweetly with a finger underneath your chin as you pulled up to a house party on the outskirts of town. it wasn’t the type of place you’d frequent on your lonesome but this was the life you had gotten used to since being on Springer’s arm. It wasn’t easy being the girl of a drug dealer..even though he tried his hardest to keep you out of his affairs as much as possible, it was sometimes inevitable. The two of you had planned a nice outing; grabbing some food and doing some shopping but that was all but derailed when he got summoned to do a drop. Unlike a DoorDash or Uber, it wasn’t optional..this was mandatory and his lick just so happened to be at this event. Now you found yourself in the midst of a crowded living room, surrounded by girls dancing and doing lines, dudes grinding up on them and knocking back drinks…it was utter chaos! You spotted a couple of familiar faces, even had a shot or two yourself in hopes to loosen up and not look like a complete fly on the wall. You had even begun to dance with a couple girlfriends you had class with and was smiling before long. However, that was all but shattered when you’d go back to your seat and spot your man chopping it up with not only one of his boys but another girl, who seemed to be lingering a little too close. The bad part was, he was smiling and enjoying it! Now you never made it your mission to trip or get jealous..hell, as far as you were concerned, if a nigga wanted to entertain someone else, they could have his ass. But you knew it wasn’t like that with him. He loved you more than anything..so why the hell were you getting so mad?! Maybe because you were being drug to this hellhole after the promise of a nice evening and instead watching some bitch touch all over him. You knew he was taking care of important business so you chose not to interrupt and instead bowed out to a backroom to clear your head. It wasn’t long before he spotted you angrily brushing through the crowd and followed suit. It was only when you found yourself at a bathroom door did you hear him calling out.. “(y/n)! (Y/N)….where you going, baby?” his words met with complete silence as you turned and kept walking. The walk had led you two down a dimmed hallway and you’d push open the first door you could find..anything not to see his face. But he wasn’t having it! Met with a mirror, sink, toilet and stand in shower, you’d corner yourself off there, trying to fight back tears until you heard the knob turn. He bursts in there with a less than friendly expression on his face, now mad that you have him chasing you. “Man, what’s wrong witchu? Why the fuck you running from me?” But you’re in no mood to answer his very obvious question. Pushing at his chest, you try to evade him but Connie just ends up holding you by your wrists until you tell him what’s wrong.

“..leave me the fuck alone, Connie…got me in this dumbass party so you can let these bitches play in your face.” blurting out in a low mumble without making eye contact with him. And he’s so confused at first that he genuinely doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about. So he asks you to repeat and once you do, he just starts laughing..which reallly pissed you off! “..ain’t shit funny, Connie. The fuck is you laughing for?” And from there, he doesn’t try to explain a damn thing. Just spins you around to face the mirror..placing a hand around your throat as he grimaces in your ear. “Chill out with all that shit…I ain’t playing with you, (y/n).” Normally, it’d work to stop you from being irate but you decided to press his buttons since he wanted to play. “And what you gone do if I don’t?” Retorting back, only to be met with a slap to your ass and a pressing hand to your spine. The next thing you knew..your leg was hiked up on the counter and Connie was mounted behind you with his hands snaking up your dress. “..face that fucking mirror and don’t move.” a command you followed, merely thinking nothing of it. Tugging those panties to the side in the process. What you didn’t know was that he was about to fuck that little attitude right out of you!

in one other swift motion, Connie unfastened the buckle to his Amiris, letting them sway to his hips and expose that thick cock as he saddled behind you. Stroking himself in his palm and licking his hand to lubricate his tip..which was already very much seeping and erect for you. His wristwatch sitting idly on the small of your back whilst he prepared to enter you; not even bothering to easy his way in because he needed to teach you a lesson. But as always, you opened right up for him in a matter of seconds. That wetness swallowing him immediately after his first thrust, which made both of you emit a loud gasp. But he would garner his stance and rhythm, making sure you knew who was in control. Eventually, he’d begin to feed you a few deeper strokes, ones that had you making a mess of him in that short span. “Fuck…Connie. Yes, right there!”

looking back with a firm grasp on that sink counter, (y/n) cried out for more, begging this man to keep hitting your spot and place his claim on it. Which he did, as well as began choking you in the process to keep that head reigned in and your eyes on him. That heavy ass bouncing fiercely off of his pelvis. This was exactly what you needed..to be pounded into pure oblivion and made to understand that you were his one and only priority.

“You feel that dick, baby? The way I’m fucking on this lil’ pussy? Can’t nobody get that shit but you. This all yours..I belong to you. Ain’t no need to trip like that.”

the words making you soften a bit and realize just how foolish you were acting! He had no use for that girl or any other one when he had you by his side. There wasn’t even the slightest bit of competition there and he’d drill it into your mind…and body that you were the only woman he’d ever need. “It’s alright though..I know you only get like this when I ain’t been in it. But you know I love you, (y/n). Love the way you feel f’r me and shit. I ain’t never coming up off of you.” With your breasts bouncing around after spilling from your top half. Connie doubled down on those speeds, practically drilling your shit and making your legs quiver. He could also feel just how close you were for him and decided to send you into climax with a few more rough and sporadic thrusts. “I’m coming, fuck! Daddy, I’m coming..” tapping against the counter as a sign of submission and that you were sorry for behaving so foolishly. But he’d need your word that you’d stop the outbursts before allowing that to happen. “You gone act right? Quit acting fucking crazy?..” “..yes! Please, I’m sorry..” which seemed to have sufficed for him because before you knew it, you were gasping for air, desperate for that orgasm when he reached underneath and stroked your clit and clammy folds to bring you to your peak. Which in turn made you tighten and spasm around him. Those juices splattering the floor underneath you both but that didn’t stop him! He had a release of his own but he’d make sure that not one single drop would spill. Instead…

“I’m coming too, baby…nutting in that lil’ pussy.”

and next thing you knew..you were met with a loud grunt and his warm seed splattering the inside of your womb. Not stopping for nearly thirty seconds. Not until you were filled up with him. Letting you know he was all yours. Completely caught in the midst of the feeling, you’d find yourself spun around and greeted with a barrage of sloppy pecks. “C’mere..” muttering against your lips whilst his tongue danced around your mouth. Your eyes aglow with a sparkle that hadn’t been there before. Which made him all the more satisfied. That’s when you’d feel a sharp slap to your ass, causing you to jolt.

“Now quit playing, mama and let me handle this shit. I swear we can do whatever you want when we get up outta here.”

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ayabeanworks · 7 months

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Title: Can I meet you again?

Synopsis: AU in which Geto does not defect, but you do instead.

Character: SaShiSu x reader

Series: Let's Meet in the Spring (SaShiSu x reader)

Notes: Literally just heavy angst & sadness. Mentions of death, murder, suicide and reincarnation. Heavy themes. Lots of swearing. Spoilers for JJK season 2 (anime).

Part 2 available here!

Prequel available here!

AU sequel available here!

The songs I had playing while writing this was: - Hero by Alan Walker (Probably played this one the most that it's at the top of my repeated songs Spotify list ☠️) - Apollo (Eurovision ver) by Timebelle - Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan

"Oh?"

Shoko stared at you as you waved at her with a bright smile, brows raising in surprise as she took out a new smoke in the Shinjuku smoking area.

You made your way over to her, finding that she wasn't pushing you away. It was good to see a friend after a while, but you weren't too sure if you had that privilege anymore.

For you, you were testing the waters.

"Hey, Shoko." You took out a lighter from your pocket, one-handedly opening it for her to light her cigarette.

"Fancy seeing you here. You need something from me?" She glanced into your direction, taking a shallow inhale and extending her exhale.

You hummed in reply. "Just testing my luck."

"So, just to be sure, are the claims false?"

"Unfortunately, they're true." You could only bring yourself to shrug lightly, looking ahead. From your peripherals, you could see her taking out her phone to call the others.

"Just to be sure again: why?"

"I want to create a world where jujutsu sorcerers don't have to struggle." You didn't elaborate.

"Wow, that's funny!" Shoko laughed lightly, but there really wasn't anything humourous behind it. It was as if she was contemplating asking more. After all, everyone and everything struggles, so what is this righteous talk from you?

"Do you think I'm wrong?" You asked, hearing the faint ringing of her phone as she waited for one of the others to pick up.

"Right or wrong, it was dumb." Shoko didn't even hold back on her words, making you genuinely laugh at how frank she was, regardless had you been granted a bounty.

"Gojo, Geto, [name]'s here with me in Shinjuku." Gojo seemed to say something on the other side, but Shoko retorted, "No way! I don't wanna die." She hung up after conveying her message.

"So, what will you do now?" She turned to you, exhaling a puff of smoke into a ring above her head.

"I don't know. I might see you around, I guess." You took a step forward, facing her. "See you later, Shoko." You knew Gojo and Geto would be here at any moment, but you didn't know if you wanted to face them.

Shoko didn't say anything in response, just watching as the ashes fell from the cigarette between her fingers.

You didn't see, but it was the first time Shoko has made an expression where she was at a loss of what to do.

And, that was the last time you saw Shoko.

"WAIT, [NAME]!" Satoru bellowed out to you as you walked away, in front of the KFC you all used to go to until recently.

He caught up pretty fast...where's Sugu? You sensed his curse energy, but you weren't sure where it was. As for Satoru, he was only a few metres away from you down the slope of the street.

You sighed inwardly, ready to face him. "'toru."

The nickname you usually call him by hurt him more this time around as he registered how unaffectionate your voice was, contrary to the usual. It was devoid of any emotion. Like you didn't care about what you left behind. Like you didn't care about him.

"Explain yourself, [name]!" He demanded, sunglasses further down his nose as he watched you with wide eyes full of emotions of all kinds, but you mainly picked out disbelief and anger.

"There's nothing else to say. You've heard from Shoko." You stated, watching the twitch in his face as he evaluated your dismissive answer.

"So you'll kill anybody who makes life hard for Jujutsu sorcerers? Both sorcerers and non-sorcerers?" Satoru's voice rose in anger.

After all, you did kill an elder a week ago. It was the one that'd been annoying you since forever, the one who tried to get you purposely killed each and every time you went on a mission. Killing him was much easier than you had imagined, though.

"Well, if natural selection isn't going to do anything, I might as well do it instead." You crack a light joke, but your words were serious.

"That's not what I'm asking! I thought you were against killing if there was no meaning to it?!"

"There's a meaning behind everything. A purpose, even."

"No there isn't! You want to make a world where Jujutsu sorcerers don't suffer? That's impossible!"

"Satoru's right, [name]." Geto spoke from behind you, his voice wafting through the air as he went to stand closer to Gojo as he faced you. "There's a purpose to everything, but there's a better way of doing things than say, homicide. Especially for us in the Jujutsu world."

You wanted to scoff. But, you couldn't, because you used to be that way, too. But everything ate away at you, and you just weren't the same person anymore with the same aligning morals. You chose to go down the path you've decided to go down, even if it meant deserting everything you knew before.

"Is it really impossible?" Your voice was light, but the lilt in it was undeniably laced with seriousness. "I wouldn't do this if there was a shred of impossible in it."

The alarm on their faces was really something.

"[name]...you'll need to fight us if you keep going down this path." Suguru spoke his words deliberately, slowly, like he was getting a child to listen to him. He was careful.

Satoru clenched his teeth and fists. He wanted to say that it was impossible yet again, that when you fight them, you'll lose. But, you knew that. You knew, so why?

"Wow, I'll get to fight the 2 strongest sorcerers!" You clapped your hands together once, a smile on your lips, one that didn't reach your eyes. "Maybe so, but you're not my targets. There's some smaller fish compared to you I must get rid of first."

"Why?" Geto voiced both Gojo and his thoughts, a quick glance at Satoru knew he wasn't going to be able to hold a proper conversation without shouting.

"Why?" You echoed his question. "Well, for starters, we're treated like shit, in both worlds regardless sorcerers or non-sorcerers. Do you remember? The elder I killed, he was truly one who deserved to die. The number of times he ignored protests, warnings and more...killing off our sorcerers one by one, do you really believe someone like him being alive is worth all that struggle? For him, he deserves to die for that alone."

Geto was about to open his mouth after a thought, but you interrupted him. "Also, he was a paedophile so he deserves everything that's come his way. The world needs none of those disgusting pigs."

You couldn't forgive him. You couldn't forgive such a disgusting creature existed. When you found out the information coincidently, you knew you had to do something about it.

The anger in your eyes was juxtaposed by the small smile on your lips, one that was almost proud of what you did.

Satoru couldn't contain himself any longer, "Yeah, he was a fucking piece of shit, but killing him? That's made you one of the sorcerers we've got to kill! You're to be executed on sight! You're a hypocrite, [name]. Are you trying to get all the sorcerers you want to protect to come kill you?"

You watched him as he heaved a breath, his eyes feeling heavy on your form as he tried to convey his distraught to you about the whole situation.

You barked out a laugh, a hand landing on your hip as you stared at him, no trace of the smile on your features anymore.

"Hypocrite?" The question lay on the tip of your tongue, before you let out a low chuckle, feeling your throat go dry. "Perhaps you're right; I am. I am a hypocrite who wants death as much as those geezers who send us out to kill ourselves."

"Oh, and you forgot one detail. I don't care about sorcerers and non-sorcerers at all. They're equally as bad as each other. The only difference is that sorcerers have the power to wield cursed energy and use it to destroy curses made up from the normie's emotions." You gave him a half lie. It was easier to push him away. Push him away so he won't be able to break the armour you've put up.

"And what of him dying? Are the elders going to retire themselves? Or will they KILL us sorcerers first?" Your voice became an octave higher as you emphasised words that made you emotional.

"After I kill them, you can then reform the society as you wish. You could probably kill them yourself, 'toru, but you won't take that step. That's why I'll take that step instead." You give him a crooked smile, "There's nothing here worth living for."

"Nothing worth living for?" Satoru repeated your words, taking off his sunglasses, watching you with his blue eyes, and you could see the monstrous waves of emotion behind them. "Are you fucking blind?"

Suguru glanced over at Gojo, hoping he didn't have to inject himself in between to stop it from escalating further.

"No, I am not fucking blind, Satoru!" A chip from your facade broke off, revealing a mess of emotions in the split second your voice broke. "Do you understand how suffocating it is living in this world? Where all your friends die in front of you, or there's a chance they'll die on their next mission? Where the strongest wins - and in this world, if the curses aren't the strongest, the sorcerers at their highest standing are!"

"You know I--" He began, but you cut him off.

"I know you hate them as much as I do! But I'll do whatever it takes to get rid of them, even if it means forsaking you all to do it." You almost sound like you're pleading by the end, your eyes starting to tear up.

"And after. When they're gone, you can reform the system, and control it in the way that works best for this generation." You force a smile to your lips, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Someone has to be the bad guy, and I'm willing to play the role, even if I may die in the process."

"[name], this can be done differently--"

"I'm tired, Satoru. I've tried. I've tried, and I'm tired. Why don't you understand that?" You whisper, shaking your head. "Do you know how many times I've tried talking to the higher ups, or anybody for that matter? No, you don't. You've been on missions this whole time, so you don't know. Even Suguru doesn't know the full extent of it. Shoko knows a bit, but she's not one who can do much about it."

Suguru and Satoru were silent for a moment, their eyes on you as your expression gave away everything you wanted to say.

"I won't be there, but it's a sacrifice worth making if you all aren't in danger. I don't care about anything else." Your words were soft, soft enough for them to hear you, soft enough for you to hope to convince yourself it was the right way and you didn't make the wrong choice.

Satoru and Suguru were the strongest duo. But, before they were, they were your best friends, along with Shoko. But now? Were you still able to call them your best friends? Did you even have that privilege anymore?

But, this is the path you took. Even if it meant abandoning those that you held dear, it was all for them. The real truth to your purpose and change of heart was to make a world easier for them, and for you, and for everybody who came after you. You didn't want anyone else to experience what you have, and you were going to do whatever you can to make that a reality.

You didn't give a flying fuck about anything else other than your best friends, if you were being honest. If it meant that you won't be by their side anymore, it was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

"So, I won't stop. This world is absolutely fucked. Why save something that can't be saved no more? I'd rather go down fighting. Morals be damned."

Your eyes glistening with tears unshed, you press your lips into a genuine smile. The last genuine smile before giving them a wave, "I guess this is goodbye. The next time I see you, 'toru, Sugu, we'll be enemies."

You turned on your heel, ready to leave, but you felt the curse energy expand from behind you, like they were readying to attack.

But, you kept walking, and nothing happened.

Satoru's outstretched hand fell back down to his side as he swore a string of curses, the pain on his face evident as he watched your figure disappear in the crowd of people.

Suguru had half a mind to get one of his curses to follow you, but he knew you well enough that the curse would be killed the minute you felt his cursed energy, so he didn't even bother.

His clenched his hand into a fist, a bitter taste in his mouth. He remembered back to when he was in a similar situation to you, but you and the others managed to get him out of it. He felt saved, but now, seeing it happen to the very person who helped him, made him shatter inside.

Why did you help him, when you couldn't even help yourself with your own words? Why didn't you let them help you? Why didn't you let them know you were having a hard time? That this was what you were contemplating?

He would have listened. They would have listened. They always would.

He felt a cold shiver go down his spine as he watched the endless stream of pedestrians, ones he used to call 'monkeys' in his head, but when letting go of that thought, you were at the forefront of his mind. It was you who grabbed his hand, you who brought him back.

It was you.

But he wasn't able to bring you back. He wasn't able to bring back the one who had nowhere else to go. The one who didn't know what to do with their emotions. The one who got lost.

But would he really call you lost when you knew what you wanted to do, where you wanted to go?

Suguru knew you weren't malicious. At least, not originally. The essence of you, he knew, was someone who cared greatly. One who had their heart on their sleeve when talking about anything and everything, especially with them. He didn't worry about you because you were always ok. But, there were things you didn't tell them and they didn't know, because you never let that part see the light of the day.

The only thing that Suguru felt in his chest, was regret. Regret so raw he felt cold and numb.

Satoru muttered another string of curses, turning on his heel, "Let's go, Suguru." His voice was small, and he didn't want to say any more.

He pondered all the possibilities of you. But he couldn't make himself understand you like you understood him. Which is what made it even more painful.

"I'm not as strong as you." Were words you once said to Satoru.

A forgotten conversation, one you started when he had come into your room even though the light was off, finding comfort in your presence. He wanted to sleep in the same bed or at least the same room, but you were still awake, sitting up in your bed and watching the stars and sky from your window.

Satoru didn't say anything as he climbed into your double bed, comfort filling his whole being from your calming scent alone. He wouldn't admit it, but it was one of his favourite places to be when he had turmoil in his mind.

"Yeah, you're weak." He mumbled, his face squished against the pillow as he faced you.

He could see the illuminated outline of your features from the moon, finding them captivating as he watched you with half-lidded eyes.

No, you're strong, were the real words he wanted to say. But, he had always called you weak, so he was going to continue. What harm was there?

You turn your head slightly, gazing at him with a soft smile. It was like you knew what he wanted to say, but didn't hold anything against him for saying the opposite of what he truly felt.

"You're right," You whispered. "I'm weak."

You went to close the curtains, slipping back into bed with Satoru as you closed your eyes, ignoring the gaze on you as you drifted off to sleep.

Satoru had a feeling those words were in reference to something else, but he had no idea what. He felt an invisible wall between you and him from the interaction just now, one that shouldn't be there lest he had his infinity on. But he never did unless in certain situations.

"You're plenty strong, [name]." He whispered this, bringing his finger to tap your forehead, before he also went to sleep.

You weren't asleep yet, so you heard his comment. It warmed your heart, the freezing depths of it wanting to thaw. It made you want to spill the inner turmoils of your mind, but you were scared it would taint the bright sun that is Satoru.

Satoru's a lot sweeter than he lets on, you let a small smile grace your lips as you face him to sleep.

Thinking back to that conversation, Satoru leaned back in the chair of your room, wondering where it all went wrong.

Were you trying to reach out to him back then? Or were you asking him for some form of confirmation? Were you trying to let him know you were not alright? What did you want?

He wasn't as good at reading emotions like Suguru was, but he knew something was wrong when something was wrong. He just didn't know how to approach it.

He wondered, if he had indulged you that time, would you have let him in?

"You had another fight with the elders, huh." Suguru stated, seeing your current state. He sat where the vending machines were, having just taken a seat after taking a shower. The can of green tea he had in his hands was opened and given to you, "Drink up."

You held an angry expression prior to this, but being with Suguru made you calm down. You took the green tea and took a small sip, savouring the bitter flavour. It was refreshing.

You handed it back to Suguru, "Thank you." He took it back and took a large gulp, feeling it cool down his body.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Suguru prodded. He knew something was up. Normally you'd be more like Satoru when you came out pissed from the elders meetings. But this time, you were quiet, more like you were seething, like a volcano about to erupt.

You stared at the ground, wondering what you should start with. You felt that all the words exchanged between you and the elders wasn't listened to, wasn't taken into account. It was like talking to a massive brick wall, one that you had no way to get through to.

"I..." You started, but your throat clammed up. You stopped, waiting for the words to come naturally. When your throat finally decided it was ready to talk, your voice was a whisper. "If the elders disappeared, would this all end?"

Suguru's gaze landed on you, knowing full well what you were thinking. He gave you the green tea again. You took it, and another sip.

"If the elders disappeared, others would take their place."

Suguru could feel something was wrong. The atmosphere was different with you, just like how it was different for him a year ago after the star plasma vessel mission. He could sense it in his very being, something was wrong.

"If the others took their place, would they act the same as the ones now?" You chuckled to yourself, but your voice dropped an octave, "Jujutsu society is trash."

There was a slight panic that welled up inside Suguru, reminding himself of the emotions he himself went through not too long ago.

He could see himself in you, and he hated it. Not the one who had helped to bring him out of it, the one who reached out their hand to bring him back to the light. Not you.

"[name]. You don't hate all sorcerers, do you?" His voice was calm, probing for information for your current state of mind.

Back then, he was on the verge of deciding whether to continue as someone who protected the weak, or someone who didn't care for the weak. And now, you were going through something similar. He wanted to bring you back to him, to the one you saved.

After a moment, you shook your head. "I don't. I just...hate how the elders are sending out young sorcerers to their deaths. I hate how there are young Jujutsu sorcerers being taken away from their families so they can train to be another one of us disposables. I hate how no matter what, the top dogs in this world are absolute trash, who need to be burned at the stake. And don't get me started on curses. They're the worst. I hate them. I hate them so much for taking away so much from everyone. From sorcerers, from non-sorcerers..."

A pregnant pause.

"I hate this world that has curses." Your voice cracked at the end of it as you leaned down, head in your hands as you stared at the ground, a broken whisper of self-awareness, "I hate how I've begun thinking this way."

Suguru didn't know when he had held his breath. Your confession was so raw. You had every right to be angry and frustrated at the system which Jujutsu was. He had also held the same thoughts.

"Sugu..." There was a heartbreaking whine to your voice, one that sounded as if you were on the verge of crying. "I hate this."

An embrace, so gentle, so tender, so soft, enveloped you as his larger body wrapped around yours. You could smell the soap he used as he pushed your face into the crook of his neck, his larger hand stroking your hair as you finally let the tears fall, a broken sob reverberating through your body as you held onto him like he was your lifeline.

"[name], I'm here." He soothes, head gently resting against yours. He closed his eyes, pulling you in closer when he felt you trembling. This was the exact same thing you did for him before, one that soothed him and his tumultuous heart.

The only difference is, you were smaller than before, too. Were you eating properly? You were skinnier. Did you get enough sleep? There were bags under your eyes. Did you take a break? He didn't see the last time you took a break.

You pulled away after a while, eyes puffy and face covered with snot. Suguru didn't even flinch as he grabbed the towel sitting next to him, wiping off any excess liquid from your face. It was gentle, and it reminded you he was the most gentle out of the three, and he'd been in a similar position to you at this moment in time. When you looked up to meet his eyes, you decided, you didn't want to burden him with your thoughts of hate - one time was enough.

"I'll always be here if you need me. You can come to me anytime." His hand went to your cheek and his thumb wiped at the area of your cheekbone. Just like his tender hugs, this was so, so soft that it made you want to cry again, making you nearly regret the decision in your heart.

You could only lean into his hand and give him a nod, eyes closing as you felt fatigue come down on your body, making it feel heavy. You didn't even know you fell asleep so fast that Suguru had to catch you, hauling you up so he could carry you back to your room.

This was the only time you revealed your true thoughts to Suguru, and the only time he has ever seen you this way.

Maybe this was the start of it? Suguru's thoughts when he woke up were clear in his mind. The dream he had was something that really happened, and it hurt him he wasn't able to help you during your hardest moments like you did for him.

He had slept in your bed for the night, finding that he missed you and the comfort you brought him. Your scent was calming to him, and it will forever be a saviour to his soul.

A week before killing the elder, Shoko had found you passed out in the infirmary, half of your body on a chair, and half of it off and on the ground.

She raised a brow at your position, wondering if you were tired and just fell asleep. On closer inspection, she could see the dark circles under your eyes, the thinning of your cheeks, and realised you've lost a lot of weight. The bottle on the chair were a bunch of sleeping pills, open and spilled, indicating you had taken some just prior.

If she wasn't worried about you before, she was definitely worried now.

And when you woke up, you were just like normal, which made Shoko question whether you were just overworked. She did know you fought a lot with the elders and were sent on difficult missions because they were out to get you. So with this information in mind, she was sure you were in need of a proper break, away from everything and everyone.

Which was why she advocated for you to get a break, away from Tokyo, to an island resort with lots of sunshine. A proper 4 day break. Of course, she got Satoru to pay for it since he was loaded and actually owed [name] for a previous thing.

But, the aftermath that came from that was the death of the elder 3 days after coming back.

Did that moment of clarity cause everything to happen? When you were on break, was that when everything went out of control? Was that when you decided this was the path you wanted to take?

You had looked completely back to normal after coming back that the worry Shoko and the boys held for you was almost like a false alarm - but they didn't realise that that in itself was the real alarm.

You were happy - or at least, you were smiling like you did before. It was wonderful to see you back to your regular self, something everyone mutually agreed on by the other sorcerers.

Until you murdered the elder, that is.

That was your first step into the world of depravity, away from the world of Jujutsu, and closer to the world called Hell.

[name]'s heart was soft. It was originally that way, and as you traversed through life, fell and got back up, your heart became stronger. However, it was just an outer layer, like a piece of armour for your fragile heart. You would pretend things were fine until it wasn't, even if you wore your heart on your sleeve, letting the people around you know what you thought, even if they thought you were joking.

It was almost too sudden when you realised all the armour around your soft heart had shattered to pieces.

It was like you lost a part of you that day, and you didn't know what could fix you. You didn't know if you could be fixed. So, you did the only thing you could do.

Pick up the pieces and do your best to put it back together, create a wall for your heart before it gets pierced again.

But before you were able to, a gunshot would shatter your glued armour, shattering in your hands, and your heart was laid bare, bleeding out without any way to stop.

And you wished and wished, for someone to reach out their hands to you and drag you out of your ocean of misery. But, nobody could reach deep enough, and you couldn't reach because you had no strength left to.

You couldn't reach out anymore. No matter how much you wanted, the same fate would await you, and you'd fall into such despair again.

You were tired. You were so, so, so tired.

The ones who made you like this, were ironically the ones who could take you out.

"____." You give them one last smile, a genuine one, as you feel the tears coming down your face, bringing your blade to your neck, before slicing and ending your own life.

You didn't want to die at the hands of your best friends. Not because they're your best friends, but because they would bear the burden of having killed you, and you didn't think they'd be able to take that, especially at the ripe age of 19. So, you'd rather do it for them, making it easier. After all, it would've been close to impossible going up against two of the strongest sorcerers.

You could only hear screams at you from the distance as the pain numbed your mind and body. Geto & Gojo were both screaming your name as they sprinted to you, their panicked shouts becoming background noise as they held onto your body, lifting you up to bring you to Shoko.

Your eyes could only see the terrified blue eyes from Satoru as he carried you on Geto's curse. He seemed to be wanting the curse to go faster, but Geto could only reply in an equally as panicked tone, saying this was his fastest one and that they're going as fast as they could to Shoko.

Your eyes are too beautiful to be panicking, you wanted to say. But, you couldn't. Blood had gotten into your oesophagus, making you struggle to breathe as you coughed and suffocated on your own blood.

"[NAME]! ARE YOU WITH ME?! STAY AWAKE!" Satoru's frantic shouts were barely ringing in your ears, but the creases on his face shouldn't have been there. They were going to give him wrinkles.

With one of the last ounces of your strength, you lifted your hand up to cup his cheek, then gently smooth the line between his brows, giving a weak smile.

Satoru let out a choked sound similar to a sob, understanding exactly what you were doing and what you wanted to say. He held your wrist, supporting you in whatever way he can as he could feel your body heat leaving you. Suguru placed a hand on your cheek, stroking the area under the eye, just like he always did.

It made you feel nostalgic, but you could barely see his expression, since tears had blurred your vision. You wanted to reach for Suguru before you had no more strength, so you gently moved your raised arm in that direction. Satoru, knowing exactly what you were doing, guided your hand to Suguru, who took your hand gently, holding it preciously between his two hands.

"Let's get you home, [name]." Were the last words Geto said to you. By 'home', he meant with them, back to Jujutsu, so they could forget everything that happened and start over. It would just be like those happy days, back when there was nothing to worry about.

In your state, you couldn't make out everything he was saying, but you knew they were kind words by his intonation and the caress he held for your bloodied hand.

You only gave them a smile, one that was apologetic, as you felt your consciousness fading away. The tears that blurred your vision finally fell, and the slight squeeze of your hand in Geto's made him realise that was it.

For you, it was time to sleep. It was a time for you to finally rest your tired mind and body, away from this world, and away from all those that you loved.

Suguru looked over at Satoru, who was biting his lip almost bruisingly as they trembled. With his sunglasses off, he could see everything in detail, including the way your cursed energy stopped, from when your body heat disappeared, and he couldn't feel you anymore. You were a hollow shell of a body now, and the last thing you left them was an apologetic smile on your face.

Away from the battleground, Shoko looked out the window, a pang of sadness hitting her all at once when she realised the screams belonging to Geto & Gojo resonated through the forest. She could barely just hear them, but she knew, the dread that filled her veins was apparent. She knew.

She closed her eyes, taking out the cigarette between her lips as she exstinguished it, her arm covering her eyes as she leaned back in her seat, silent tears falling down her cheeks.

"Quite sad, really. None of you realised [name] suffered this much." Kenjaku sowed the top of your head back together after revealing some information you kept hidden to Suguru & Satoru, and about your last moments and thoughts.

Seeing the despair and shock on their faces was intoxicating, especially when it came to the body he borrowed. Kenjaku knew the amount of love that had been given to the original owner of his current body, and using that, he could disarm even the strongest of sorcerers in the modern day.

It was a pity you were dead, but if you were alive and not dead, Kenjaku wouldn't have been able to take over your body now, would he?

It was especially sweet because the body hadn't even been cremated and still looked the same as it did 10 years ago. And those two who had been responsible for it were standing in front of him, in Shibuya station during Halloween.

Even better because you had died in their arms, so seeing you alive as Kenjaku was more of a sick joke than anything, but he loved that expression on the ones who had essentially allowed you to be this way.

"If only the people around them were able to reach out a hand before their descent into madness, none of this would have happened." Kenjaku ran a hand through your hair.

Satoru let out a low growl from his throat as he watched whoever was in your body use it, control it, and pretend to be you. No one could be you. You were gone. You were gone 10 years ago. And he knew - he knew you were not in front of him.

You died in his arms.

So there was absolutely no way that could be you. Absolutely not!

But, his six eyes said otherwise. It was you. Everything was you. It was the same you who died in his arms 10 years ago, the same you who gave him one last smile before leaving the earth.

It tore him to pieces inside.

Suguru put out an arm in front of Satoru, eyeing the cursed user in your body. He was pretending to be calm, but the way his hands and jaw clenched at the blatant disrepect Kenjaku had for your body was digusting. How dare he exhume your grave and take your body from it?

He felt a cold, almost murderous feeling bubble up inside him as he readied himself for combat.

That was not you. And it couldn't be, even if Satoru's six eyes recognised you to be alive. You weren't alive. You had been lost long ago, and whoever was in front of them was an imposter.

"[name]! How long are you going to let this little bitch take over your body?" Satoru finally burst, pissed at the prospect of someone disrespecting you.

Your hand, reacting almost instantaneously, went straight for the top of the head, right where Kenjaku's brain was. It stabbed straight through the cranium, a crunch eliciting a scream from Kenjaku himself as the brain was stabbed, wounding his real body. Kenjaku used your other arm to stop your attack on his weak point, feeling the blood pour out.

For a moment, it was silent except the light splatter and pitter patter of blood from your body. Suguru and Satoru stared at what happened in front of them, shocked that what Gojo said had ellicited such a response.

Kenjaku pulled your assaulting hand away, holding it in a death grip with the one he could control. The blood dripped down his face as he used his reverse cursed technique to heal the head wound, cracking the sides of his neck after he healed your head and his brain.

"Wow, I can't believe [name] went straight for the kill." Kenjaku laughed to himself. "But that's all there is to it. The soul and body are one, aren't they? Don't think this will happen again." He chuckled and waited for the hand to calm itself.

"Oh, and did you know [name] wrote a letter to each of you? Including Shoko. They knew they'd die so they hid it away in the school. I think they hid it somewhere important for each of you. Even they don't quite remember." Kenjaku couldn't quite recall what the contents of the letters were as the memory itself was fuzzy. He wanted to see it as their strong friendship strained due to his taking over of [name]'s body.

He wondered why this specific memory was blurred out, and he couldn't recall anything from your memories about this specific thing?

It was like you were deliberately making sure you didn't remember it, and deleted the memory from your head so no one could find the letters.

A letter? The strongest duo's eyes narrowed at the imposter in their dead best friend's body, wondering if it's a part of their tricks. But it was also hard to not believe them, since they look like you. And everything about you, they would believe.

Because you were the type of person who would write letters to them.

"I don't know what they say, but they've been there since before [name] died." Kenjaku tapped his temple, "If you can get out of here, I implore you to find them."

That pissed the two off. Kenjaku was implying they wouldn't get out of this alive, or at least, to see the letters that were supposedly left for them. It pissed them off to no end, and they prepared to battle, not wanting to take part of his nonsense any longer.

Dear Satoru,

I'm glad to have met you. I love you. I love Suguru. I love Shoko. I love everyone. We had so many fun times, and it was the best time of my life. Everything was so bright, cheery and brought me so much happiness, I can't even tell you the extent of it.

I hope you don't mind this letter. If you've found it after I've defected or after I'm dead, I can't express with words how much doing this pains me. If I can't use my words, I have to use my actions, right? I hope you don't forgive me for what I've done. It's unacceptable and you have every right to hate me. I've killed innocent people for the purpose of my goal. Horrible, right? I really hope you won't forgive me.

But I know you. You will. You're just that kind of person.

I'll miss your bright blue eyes and white hair. I'll miss your loud and boisturous personality. I'll miss how your heart races every time I hug you. I'll miss you nuzzling into my head when we hug. I'll miss the soft 'sweet dreams' you say every time you carry me to bed after I fall asleep studying. I'll miss when you take photos of me everyday. I'll miss your annoyingness. I'll miss your teasing words every day. I'll miss your blushing cheeks when you're embarrassed. I'll miss your comical, over the top reactions. I'll miss you eating a whole bunch of sweets in one setting. I'll miss the crepe shop we'd often go to. I'll miss how you make me feel safe. I'll miss your voice. I'll miss you.

If reincarnation exists, I want to meet you again. I want to see your smile again. I want to call you 'toru again. I want to give you the biggest hug, and feel the thrum of your heart racing. Then, I'll give you a kiss on your head, just like you always do to me before I sleep.

You're strong, 'toru. Make sure to stay safe and be careful. I don't want to meet you on the other side so soon. Grow up to be even stronger, and reform Jujutsu's society. I know you can do it!

By the way, I left your favourite recipe of the sweets you liked that I made. That way, you can enjoy them anytime.

Love, [name].

P.S. Don't eat so many sweet things at once!!! I don't want you getting cavities!!!

Dear Suguru,

You were the first one to notice anything going on, and for that, I'm grateful. I'm sorry I brushed you off so coldly. I didn't know how to ask for help. I wish I'd have listened to your heartfelt words to rely on you a little more.

If you see this, I've probably already defected or I'm dead. But I just want you to know, I love you. I want to see you again. I miss you. I want to hug you and let you know everything I'm thinking. I want you to give me one of your strong hugs, knocking the air out of me. I also equally want your soft, tender hugs, as you whisper comforting words to me. I want to hear your voice again. I want to run my fingers through your hair again and question why you only use soap on it. I want to cook with you again. Have late night discussions. Cuddle. Piggyback rides. Kisses on the cheek. Allowing me to latch onto you like a koala when I'm cold since you run hot. I miss our times together. I miss you.

If reincarnation is real, we will definitely meet again. I want to see you smile from the bottom of your heart, and enjoy the most delicious food! And, if no curses are in that world, then you'll finally have a food you don't like - I'll be willing to lend an ear so you can whisper it to me! I want to cup your cheeks and tell you you've done well, for enduring during tough times and standing right back up. I want to finally give you a piggyback ride, since I was never able to fulfil that wish here. I want to be able to call you Sugu again.

Stay strong, Sugu. Make sure to stay safe. Since I know you hate the taste of curses, I've left the key to my safe with candies that are really good at cleansing the palette. Don't ever let these get into 'toru's hands or else you'll never see them again. I got these custom made just for you, and I've left a note with instructions on where to get it and what special order it was. I was supposed to give it to you sooner, but I left before then. Hope you enjoy them!

Love, [name].

P.S. Please take care of yourself!!! And don't use soap on your hair!!! Use proper shampoo and conditioner since your hair's so pretty!!!

Dear Shoko,

I'm sorry you probably had to see my dead body.

If I had spilled my heart out to you about my troubles, I wonder if it would've helped? I kept things bottled up for too long and it's become like this. I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep our promise. We didn't get to go to Disneyland like we promised all those months ago - the tickets are just sitting somewhere rotting away. I really wanted to go with you, Sugu and 'toru. It would've been great fun, and we would've made so many memories.

I miss your voice, Shoko. I miss your laugh. Your insults. Your frankness. Your weirdness. Your chillness. You. Heck, I even miss your scent of smoke. I miss you so much. I want to see you.

Can I meet you again? In a world without curses, where we don't need to risk our lives and watch our loved ones die. If I ever get reincarnated, can you find me? Or I can find you? I want to enjoy our times together again, feel the breeze against our skin, sing joyfully, joke around, play around, and take many photos together. That's the only way I want to spend it - and I want it so much you don't even know. In that kind of world, we can finally be happier. We can finally smile geniunely. I'll be able to finally see you again.

I bought some smokes for you and it's in my safe. Suguru has the key. Take some of the candies too, they might help in cleansing your palette every now and then.

I love you.

Love, [name].

P.S. Too much smoking isn't good for you!!! Please quit or at least do it a little less!!! I worry for your lung health...

Trembling hands read their letters as they were found around Jujutsu High school. It had your cursed energy as a seal, but the minute it was touched by any of the three, the seal would break. The letter itself was blank, with a couple of pages for each of them. The words appeared once they injected their cursed energy into it.

Words written by you appeared on the page, covering all the pages given for each letter. As the trio read the letters you had kept hidden from them, they couldn't help but let their unshed tears fall.

They were all known as strong sorcerers who don't cry. But, you brought them to their knees with your sincerity, and you were lost too soon. It was the last thing they had from you, and the warmth in every word of those letters struck a chord deep in their hearts, remembering 10 years ago and the day you had died.

"I kept [name]'s room clean," Suguru started, his eyes glossy. He had already cried, but every time he wanted to read the words off the letter, he was ready to cry again. He didn't want to. "Everything's the same."

It was as if they went down memory lane. Nothing had changed in your room. It was just as Geto said, it was exactly the same.

Whenever Geto had some time, he would clean your room, just like how he knew you would like it. It was something he sometimes did if he stayed over to help you study or just to hang out. So, he knew where everything was.

Immediately going to the safe, he put in a random number, guessing your birthday, then he used the key entrusted to him and unlocked it.

"What a bad password..." Geto couldn't help but laugh lightly, but his laughter died in his throat when he opened the safe.

The first thing the three of them saw was a couple of picture frames, each of them with pictures of the four of them that they remember taking when they were younger. The photos where all of them were happy, grinning and had no care in the world, it made their throats dry, clamming up uncomfortably.

Geto picked up the picture frames, taking a closer look at them with Shoko.

"Oh, look, there's more." Gojo peered in, seeing the promised recipe, bag of lollies, Disneyland tickets and smokes from each of their letters. He took them out and handed them what was gifted.

As they examined the items, Gojo read the recipe, a page written neatly by you. It was as if he could imagine you sitting in your room, writing it just for him while you tasted the different variations that you recommended in the recipe.

Geto put the photos face down, falling flat on his back on your bed as his arm covered his eyes.

Shoko stared at him for a moment, deciding to join him by doing the same thing. Your bed was only a double bed (you had requested a bigger bed for your first paycheck) and didn't have that much space for the three of them, much less four.

Seeing the two of them do the exact same thing, Satoru joined them, but instead, he sat up against your headboard, laying his legs in a cross legged position.

He fipped the picture frames back up, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he basked in the silence and warmth of your room he was so familiar with.

He closed his eyes, and like the others, thought of you.

Would it have been different had you told them everything you were feeling? If you talked through exactly what was causing you grief, and what could be done about it? Were they not enough to help you back up? Would you have felt so suffocated that you chose to die? Would you have still died in their arms? Would Kenjaku have still taken over your body? Still left them behind?

They say sorcerers don't die without regrets.

And they knew if they died, their one and only regret would be you.

At a certain crepe shop, Gojo Satoru waited for his crepe, one he decorated with strawberries, whipped cream and a drizzle of chocolate. It was one he used to frequent with his old friend, and he'd come here every week with them to buy a crepe. It wasn't the order he normally went with, but today, he felt nostalgic.

It had been so long since the last time he had visited the crepe shop with you, but it remained fresh in his mind even after reincarnating many times over. What timeline was he in now? He counted 7. That was 7 lifetimes without you. Suguru & Shoko were also counting, and they did whatever they could to find out where you would be. But, each and every one after their first, you were nowhere to be found.

Suguru & Shoko would sometimes come to the crepe shop, but they were also busy making a living in a world without curses. The tragedy from their first life remained fresh in their current ones, holding them so strongly they didn't want to give up.

But unknown to them, you were right under their nose all along, and you frequently went to that same crepe shop at times just before or after they were there, a mysterious force pushing you to the place.

It was at one time, where Satoru thought he saw you, that it reignited the flame that had been dormant for so long, to finally see you, after so many timelines and lifetimes apart.

Your voice, followed by your laughter, and your hand. He had you memorised, and he was so thankful for his good memory that recognised you. It was the closest he got, and when he heard you, saw a part of you, he was sprinting, but you had already disappeared onto the train, and the last thing he saw was the back of your head.

It was brief, but it was enough for his mind to go overdrive and let the others know his findings, that it was possible for them to find you this lifetime, and the crepe shop was the biggest key to it all.

And, when they cracked the code and finally found you, all the memories, feelings and thoughts from their original life came back to them, allowing them to finally see you in a world without curses, even if they had to wait 7 lifetimes.

If they had to put it into years, those 7 lifetimes were equivalent to over 600 years of not seeing you.

But, this lifetime, they finally found you.

Over 600 years in the making, and you also found them.

A/N: I CRIED WRITING THIS. It hurt me 😭 here's part 2!

There's also somewhat of a prequel as well from Geto's POV if you were interested!

Here's also an AU in an alternate timeline with information that takes place directly after the original timing here.

If y'all want some fluff here's the masterlist for the rest of the series 🕊️

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sundaycentric · 6 months

Note

JING YUAN AND NEUV!!!!!

(I too am down horrendous for them)

(seperate) neuvillette & jing yuan x reader

content ★ headcanons, NOT PROOF READ!!, sfw, fluff

note ★ SO REAL!! i love them both sm its unreal.. anyways im just going to do some basic headcanons and drabbles bc im abt to go to a dance and i need something quick to post.. other requesters i am working on your stuff!!

NEUVILLETTE ★

He has no idea what it's like to be in a relationship. He has no experience whatsoever, besides for the in occasional movies Lady Furina will force him to watch with her.

Neuvillette isn't that dumb to take the movies as reality, though. So, he ends up just being a mess.

Before you start dating, Neuvillette will try to his best to hide his feelings. He often times pushes you away, but the sky darkens not soon after. He feels torn.

Neuvillette doesn't even understand his own emotions. He can barely process what he feels, let alone name it. He's confused and worried. He thinks it's love, but what if he isn't? He's never felt love to know what it's like.

It'd take some time for him to start working through his feelings. However, he still keeps his distance. He tries not to make it obvious he is avoiding you, but someone sees through him easily.

It doesn't take long for Lady Furina to find out what's happening, especially considering how observant she is to drama. She'll pester Neuvillette about it a bit, laughing at his reactions. Neuvillette tries to appear indifferent, but the sky's definitely different from what it was before.

For all her teasing, Lady Furina does genuinely care about Neuvillette (and you). She will offer some advice to Neuvillette, even though her experience in romance is just as limited as his. At least Lady Furina can work out her emotions, though.

Gradually, Neuvillette accepts your presence and allows him to take pleasure in it. A month ago, he was doing everything to stay out of your way, but now is he practically near you every time he can be.

He tries not to talk to you too much, though. He gets flustered. Although you might not be able to see it on his face, you might notice the sky becoming brighter—way brighter than normal when you talk to him.

He will never confess first. Well, unless he felt like he had to to avoid loosing you. Other that that scenario, though, he will keep quiet until you say something

Once you do say something and confess your feelings to him, Neuvillette will be so happy. His face might be a little smile, but there is no rain for entire week and lot's of people are getting sunburnt..

He will try his best to keep you happy. Neuvillette is very big on communication since he doesn't always understand what you feel. He does try though.

Neuvillette still doesn't talk much about himself. Instead, he prefers to listen to you. Even the small, mundane things you did during your day put a smile on his face.

Overall, he is very kind and considerate. Maybe even too much. He's scared of hurting you or pushing you away because of how he is. That hasn't happened yet, though. :)

JING YUAN ★

He definitely knows what he is doing. He's had some experience in the past, both watching and doing. Although, it is different when it comes to you.

Jing Yuan took interest in you. He was curious. Why? He doesn't know himself. He just likes you presence. You remind him of his finches, maybe even lion sometimes.

He learns as much as he can about you without being seen as creepy. He'll pay attention attention to you at events or when he is in public. When he catches you staring at him, he feels warm.

Eventually, he begins to come up to you. Jing Yuan prefers to take things slow, and really wants to come up with some sort of strategy to win your heart. It's a bit hard, though. He doesn't want to manipulate you, you aren't his enemy.

Jing Yuan tries to keep things in his control, both so he can spend as much time with you possible and just because he likes it. He will pay for your lunches, buy you things you like, pay for your trips. Jing Yuan has enough money, and he is willing to spend it all if you ask for it.

He'll slowly try to become closer with you. He doesn't want to push you away. After all, Jing Yuan has all the time in the world to wait for you. He only hopes you'll actually go to him.

Jing Yuan seems more unfocused at work now. He is usually not paying attention anyways (as he is sleeping), but it's becoming a bit worse now. Lady Fu catches on quick and reprimands him.

Jing Yuan, in his tired state, tries to excuse himself before Lady Fu gets angrier. He ends up slipping and saying your name. The two of them stare at each other before Fu Xuan starts scolding him again.

Fu Xuan is mad at Jing Yuan, yes, but she cannot deny that she cares about Jing Yuan. So, she might peek into the future to see if the two of you are together. She refuses to tell Jing Yuan what she sees, but she smiles as soon as he leaves.

Jing Yuan may be first to confess. He is fine with either. In the case that he confesses, he'll laugh at the way your face lights up. If you confess first, he'll find it funny how you seem a bit unsure of yourself.

He will reassure you with a kiss on the cheek before telling you that he loves you. Jing Yuan will hug you tightly while he sleeps and take care of anything you need.

He is like a teddy bear. :)

He is attentive, and he always knows what you're feeling. He might tease you sometimes, but he is ultimately very sweet and protective over you.

Yanqing definitely looks up to you as another parental figure. Good luck with that.

Overall, very nice to sleep on. He'll take care of everything he can for you and treat you like a precious gem.

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jester-lover · 1 year

Note

What about dorm leaders with Morticia-like s/o?

Friday, I'm in Love

the dorm leaders with a morticia-like s/o

cw- fem! reader, fluff, mentions of the boy's insecurities, reader being literally the hottest woman alive (author is a goth and loved this)

Riddle

He’s wrapped around your finger and he doesn't even know it

This man sees you for the first time, elegant and refined, and he comes barging towards you

Tries his best to maintain all the manners his mother taught him, but it's so difficult considering just how beautiful and smart you are

Loves dancing with you, especially if you end up guiding and taking the lead, he’ll be absolutely enamored with your confidence

His most favorite thing to do with you, however, is to show you how much power he has over other students, he thinks it’ll make you like him if he’s all big and strong

Honestly you couldn't care less

Tea parties certainly run smoother with you around, because the freshmen don't want to embarrass themselves around a cool and calm young woman like you

In terms of fashion, Riddle appreciates your monotone, sleek wardrobe, even if he desperately wishes you’d wear lower heels so he could appear taller

Riddle’s fiery ambition, and your cool, motherly personality is a combination no one expected

But the two of you know better, the differences in your personality only highlight your individual achievements, pushing you ever closer together

“Dear, you look absolutely exceptional, but perhaps refrain from adding spiders to your hair?”

Leona

Leona loves tough, strong women

(he also lowkey loves women who scare him)

He was first attracted to your confidence, how you turned heads just by strolling past, head held up high and heels tapping

He felt a sense of nervousness he hadn't ever felt before when he tried to ask you out

The two of you are both just so relaxed and aloof, with a hidden romantic side

He puts a considerable amount of effort into your relationship, more than he’s probably ever done for anyone, because you're the most special person in his life

Leona has a deep inferiority complex, and he wants you to know that he can provide for you and be the man you need

You have a natural deadpan sense of humor, and the casually dark things you say often make him laugh

He feels genuinely very calm around you, leading to a lot of afternoon naps

“Why don’t we continue our necromancy discussion after a quick nap?”

Azul

Azul is an appreciator of smooth, sleek and professional aesthetics like yours

By this, I mean he most likely cannot make eye contact with you until you approach him

Your first date is probably a ruinous meal at the Monstro Lounge where he spills his drink all over himself, he gets so humiliated, but you find it adorable

The way he stumbles over himself trying to impress you is so cute, you ask him for another date

The way that this boy worships your every step is noticeable, especially by the tweels, who consistently tease him

The similarity between your clothing is one of his favorite things about you, and he’ll always appreciate your sublime, elevated sense of fashion

“I decided to wear my black tie, to match your dress of course.”

Kalim

Sun x Moon couple, proving once again that opposites do attract

He definitely just saw you one day, thought about you for a week straight and asked you out straight up

Kalim had a bravery other boys didn’t possess, this deeply intrigued you

You tend to make deadpan and dark jokes around him, and he’s never once understood any of them in the moment

He gets it in about 3-5 business days

You give him a sense of order and peace, with your calm demeanor and relaxed attitude, while he gives you excitement, a rush of serotonin you can't find anywhere else

Kalim will complement any new accessory he sees on you, a big smile adorning his face

You two often do your makeup together before events, he usually finishes up first, and watches you because he loves to see the process of your look

“I absolutely adore the clips in your hair, I should buy a pair so that we can match!”

Vil

Power couple

Literally the both of you are so beautiful, everyone on campus turns their head around whenever you walk by

Vil thrives off of attention and compliments, so your affectionate and caring nature is much appreciated

He definitely asks to do your makeup and styling, but backs out when he realizes how iconic your look is, and how he really can't add much to perfection

He will however, help you shop

Anything you want, just tell him, he’ll buy it, he’ll just never admit he’s absolutely whipped for you

The sheer radiance and powerful energy is so much within you two

The jokes and humor you engage in almost break his perfect poised persona, he’s usually not a sucker for comedy, but you bring out his inner comic

“Darling, your red lipstick looks absolutely divine.”

Idia

Was the only one here genuinely afraid of you at first

I mean, you sorta look like one of the villains from his favorite mangas, and he all but avoids you

You find yourself intrigued with the quiet boy, and manage to find his room

Idia is literally about to cry why is a woman in his room??? This has never happened before??? The matrix is crumbling???

You two have a very hushed discussion, and he learns to fear you less

As a boyfriend, he still acts very reserved around you, he fears he might come off as annoying

Just gently ease him into talking about himself and his interests a little more, and you’ll have him ranting about his newest fixation in no time

The fact that you encourage him in his pursuits is something he’s never had before

Idia is actually so amazed by your beauty, he literally pauses and stares at you sometimes

We all know how cool his more formal clothes are, so when he’s inevitably forced to leave his room, he knows he has you to keep him a little more calm

“Everyone here is looking at us, c-can we go home now?”

Malleus

The two of you are an absolutely regal couple, and he knows you are absolutely fit to be his queen

Malleus is attracted to you because of your vast intellect, your cunning nature and your refined taste

(and also because you genuinely enjoy his late night talks about gargoyles)

He makes sure to treat you with the utmost respect and dignity, reserved only for a woman of the court, guiding you gently with his extended hand, dancing with you to slow music, and of course helping you trim your thorns

Our dragon boy knows how to treat a lady, but he might have some trouble picking up on your deadpan humor, and he often just thinks your being serious

Your aesthetics match completely, allowing for the two of you to swap clothing and trade accessories

He knows what he wants in a partner, and you manage to fit completely

Malleus knows people often find him creepy or unnerving, and he knows it's the same for you, there’s a bond formed through your societal isolation

Malleus also makes sure you know he’s in love with you every day, through his kind words and his kinder actions

“Keep me in your thoughts dearest, so that I may become yours forever.”

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rafedaddy01 · 7 months

Text

“I think I Love you Baby”

Summary: Rafe finds a new toy that he can corrupt, but he doesn’t expect to fall madly in love with her..

Requests are always welcomed!

A/n: this is something that’s been in my drafts forever and tbh I’m pretty proud of it, lmk what you guys think.

Rafe Cameron.

The boy who you’ve been in love with since grade school. The most popular boy in school.

He never paid any attention to you. Why would he? You were just a low life.

Sure you were a kook, but you weren’t like the girls he had his arm around every week.

You were invisible to him.

That is until you got invited to a party by mistake.

You entered the party wearing a white sundress with a matching headband. Your long hair flowing in the back, ending just above your butt.

You looked hot. Not your usual attire, but you were feeling rather bold tonight.

As soon as you entered a drink was put into your hand.

You don’t usually drink alcohol, but you figured if you’d try to get Rafes attention tonight a little liquid courage wouldn’t hurt.

After about 5 drinks you stumbled onto the dance floor.

“Oh I love this song!” You squealed as you started swaying your hips.

The alcohol running through your body making you hot and your vision blur as you swayed left to right, left to right.

Too caught up in your own drunkness and not caring who was watching you, a familiar smell enclosed from behind you.

“You sure know how to get a guys attention” his voice whispered in your ear as he pressed up behind you.

He rested his hands on your waist, rocking his hips with yours.

You giggled as his nose nudged your neck, laying small kisses onto it.

You leaned your head back against his chest and gave into his touch.

The song ended and he flipped you around.

Coming face to face with Rafe, Your cheeks flushed red as your nerves got the best of you.

“Ah baby, don’t tell me your getting all nervous now. After grinding up on me and giving me this..” he raised his eyebrows as you both looked down at his growing erection.

You had yet to speak.

“It’s okay. I like the shy ones” he leaned into your ear, brushing your hair off your shoulder

“Easier to corrupt” his whisper sent goosebumps to your skin and caused the wetness in your panties to flood even more.

A small whimper left your lips.

“I- please” you weren’t sure what you were asking for, but it sure had some effect on rafe.

He groaned as he looked at your face.

‘So pure, so innocent’ rafe thought as he watched you squirm and your thighs clench shut.

“Let’s go upstairs” he said, grabbing your hand and leading you through the party and up the stairs to a spare room.

You walked in and Rafe locked the door behind you.

“I realized I don’t even know your name” he said turning around to face you.

He smiled, a genuine smile.

“Y/n” you squeaked out as you looked down at your feet.

“Rafe” he answered back

“I know” you muttered as you built the courage to look up.

He pressed his tongue on the inside of his cheek and laughed as he walked a bit closer.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around, you must be new” he said pushing a stand of hair behind your ear.

You shook your head

Unable to form any words from how close he was to you, from how he was touching you, from how is smell encased your nose. It was all too much and it felt like a dream.

He smirked at your awkwardness.

“Your so cute” he said coming a bit closer to your face.

“Ca- can I kiss you?” He asked

You nodded your head as you made eye contact with him.

His baby blue irises piercing into yours.

He tangled his fingers into your hair and brought his free hand up to your chin, gripping it with his thumb and lifting your head up

He brought his lips down to yours.

The kiss was soft at first.

Eventually his tongue slipped into your mouth, dancing against yours.

A small moan left your throat as he pushed you back against the bed, never separating your lips.

He pulled back and examined you.

Your hair sprawled out on the comforter. Your cheeks flushed and your lips plump.

His eyes went lower as he stared at your tits, nipples pebbling against the fabric.

“I can’t wait to ruin you, gonna turn you into my little sex kitten” he growled as his lips attached to yours once again

“Rafe..” you huffed as his kissed travelled lower to your neck, collarbone and chest.

“What is it baby?” He purred in between kisses to your shoulder.

“I- I need you to touch me” you said nervously as you bit your lip.

You were so desperate and embarrassed you couldn’t look at him, instead your eyes focused on the ceiling above you.

“Look at me” he said sternly as his fingertips danced on your thigh.

You looked down a took a deep breath as you made eye contact.

“Where do you need my touch baby?” He said as his fingers danced higher.

“Here?” He asked as he touched your inner thigh

You shook you head.

“Words” he said staring at you

“If you want something you need to learn to ask for it”

You swallowed hard as your panties soaked even more.

“I- I need you to touch my pussy!” You all but shouted.

He chuckled darkly as he bunched up your dress.

“Now we’re talking”

Part 2

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism

#outer banks #rafe cameron #drew starkey #dark rafe cameron #outerbanks #smut #drewstarkey #drewstarkey smut #rafecameron #fanfic #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe x reader

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caelesjjk · 9 months

Text

entangled | jjk&kth - teaser

⟶title: entangled

⟶au: marvel au

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle

⟶wc: 1.5k for this

⟶banner: by meee, and yes I’m insane and made a new one

⟶warnings: mentions of blood, kissing, a boob grab and an ass grab, but no actual smut for this, Jungkook calls you Data

⟶ summary: Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man.

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend.

You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well?

Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world.

What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

⟶ authors note: hello darklings. I know a lot of people have been waiting for this fic, and you’ll have wait just a bit more. But in the meantime, I offer this little teaser to hold you over. A little glimpse of spidey kook. First chapter will be posted in just a few weeks!

Also, if you asked to be on the taglist just now that I tried messing with it for a long ass time and got annoyed lol. I may try again for the actual fic.

“What are you doing here anyways?” You shove against his broad chest and feel his arm release your waist. He sighs, following you inside your apartment.

“I know you’re upset I missed the study session…” Jungkook starts to explain, but you twist back around to face him.

“If my friends hadn’t seen you around campus now and then, they would think I made you up, Jungkook. You never show. It makes me look pathetic.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for the next excuse.

“You aren’t pathetic, Data. I’m just…” Jungkook winces when he reaches for you, a hand moving down to his ribs in pain. “Sorry, it’s healing it’s just slow.”

“What’s healing? What happened to you?” You let the fight go for a moment, closing the space between the two of you and moving his hand out of the way.

Beneath his fingers is a large cut, bloody but half hidden by his suit. It looks angry and inflamed. What could’ve made a cut like this?

“It’s nothing. I’ll heal up in a couple hours.” He pulls your hand away, blood stained on the tips of your fingers.

“It won’t matter how quick you heal if it gets infected. Come in here.” Your hand wraps around his and you pull him into your small bathroom. You steady him against your bathroom vanity and move to grab your first aid kit from the cabinet above your toilet. “Take that off.” You gesture to his Spider-Man suit.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook teases, gingerly working his top half out of the suit. He hisses through his teeth as he peels the suit away from his ribs and lets it hang at his hips.

You are not the universe's strongest soldier.

Your eyes drift over all the dips and curves of muscle. A perfectly sculpted chest and abs you could literally eat off of are scrambling every sense you have in your head. You need to focus. Stay focused on the task at hand and not his ridiculously toned body.

“You okay, Data?” He asks, humor in his voice. That horrid nickname he had given you in your first year as lab partners is feeling more endearing these days. You clear your throat.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? Just tending to Spider-Man’s wounds in my extremely tiny bathroom.” You try to laugh but it doesn’t sound genuine.

You take out some bandages and gauze and get to work cleaning him up. But even as you tape down the gauze, you can visibly see the wound getting smaller. Super powers were really something else.

“Data.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to reality.

“What?” You sigh.

“Please come here.” His hands reach for your hips and you give in, letting him pull you until you’re flush against him, suddenly nose to nose. “That’s better.”

“I’m angry with you.” You whisper, heart pumping a bit faster in the close proximity.

“I know that you are. I’m really sorry…I swear I wanted to be there.” You look down to see him slip his gloves off his hands and sit them on the countertop before they’re coming up to cup your face.

“Then what happened? You need to tell me.” Your hands wrap around his wrists.

“There’s something out there, Data. A…monster that we can’t figure out. He’s strong…and fast. Nothing I’ve ever seen before.” His thumbs brush the corners of your mouth.

“What does it want?”

“It keeps breaking into the Lab across the River. It’s looking for something. But no one at the lab is being very forthcoming with information.” His forehead presses to yours, “but Mr. Kim is working on that part.”

Seokjin Kim, also known as Ironman. He was a mentor and a good friend to Jungkook. He had helped Jungkook navigate the new world of being a superhero and also gave him a job to help him pay for school.

“Hasn’t Mr. Kim told you to call him Jin over and over?” You tease, hands coming up to rest against his chest. Jungkook laughs quietly, pulling you closer.

“He has. Guess it just slipped out.” His hands move down to palm your ass.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” You raise an eyebrow in question of his actions.

“Just feels like I haven’t touched you in so long.” His warm mouth finds your throat and he presses kisses to the skin.

“Two days is a long time?”

“It is when it comes to you. Thinking about how much I want you gets so distracting.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck making you giggle.

“So what I did for you two days ago wasn’t enough?” You let your hands slither down from his chest and over the planes of his stomach.

“Never enough.” His nose skims over your jaw until you’re back face to face and his lips are devouring yours. “I’d like to pay you back.”

“How?” You moan when you’re cut off by his tongue sliding into your mouth.

“Let me show you?” Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom.

Thinking he means to lead you to your bed, you start to pull him towards it but he seems to have other ideas, walking you back out onto the balcony. He releases your hand momentarily to slide his suit back up over his shoulders.

“What are you going to show me out here, Jungkook?” You start to feel suspicious.

“Do you trust me?” He jumps up onto your railing with ease, still holding your hand in his.

“Not if it involves you swinging me around off the side of buildings.” You start to pull your hand out of his, but his web shooter from the other wrist shoots a web at your torso, using his inhuman strength to pull you up onto the railing into his arms.

“I would never let you fall. Never. Just close your eyes for a few minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it, Data.” He touches your cheek gently, and even though you want to throw up every time he does this, you close your eyes and wrap your arms as tightly as possible around his neck and legs around his waist. “Ready?” He whispers in your ear, one strong arm wrapping around your back.

You don’t verbally answer, just nod once before burying your face into his neck.

And then the ground is no longer beneath your feet and the sickening feeling of free falling is very apparent. You try to breathe, squeezing yourself around Jungkook as you listen to the whooshing sound of his web shooters discharge and swing you between the tallest buildings in the city.

“You’re doing amazing.” Jungkook kisses your cheek, “just another minute.”

You keep your eyes squeezed shut until the curiosity becomes too overwhelming, making you dare to open your eyes just the slightest bit. You see the sun completely setting on the horizon, orange and purple hues slowly disappearing beneath the river. As long as you don’t think about how high up you are, it really is beautiful up here.

Jungkook shoots a web straight up into the air, letting it connect to the side of one of the tallest buildings, slowly pulling the two of you up until he’s reached the highest ledge, tapping your thighs so you know it’s safe to put your feet down.

“Why are we up here, Jungkook? You know the heights..” he kisses you before you can finish the sentence.

“Can we try something?” He smiles, and it’s infuriating. You’re too weak for this spidey boy. You sigh with exasperation.

“I’m already very wary of saying yes.” You look away from the ledge towards the top of the building.

“Let me make you feel good…up here.” His cheeks heat a little when he asks.

“Is this some kind of weird adrenaline thing? Why would you want that?” Your voice cracks and you sputter, disbelief heavy in your tone.

“I think it’ll be intense…feel so good.” His lips move down and his teeth nip at your jaw.

“It’s insane…” you melt into his touch and the way his mouth sucks at your neck.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll take you home. And I’ll get you naked in your bed instead.” He pulls your shirt over your head, fully knowing you’re about to give in.

“Bed sounds so good right now…”

“Please, Data…just try it.” He tosses your shirt to the side, cupping your breasts and kissing the tops of them.

“What do I have to do?” You feel too good to let the fear ruin the way he’s making you feel.

“Lie back on the ledge, with your arms above your head and your wrists crossed.”

You let him lead you down onto the ledge, every nerve in your body is hot and on the edge. Jungkook makes sure that you’re settled before he stands back up straight, looking down at you while you slowly move your arms above your head the way he asked.

“You’re perfect, Data.” Jungkook stares at you a moment longer before he aims his web shooter and traps your wrists together against the concrete ledge beneath you.

#bts #bts fic #jungkook fic #taehyung fic #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #entangled teaser #jjk #kth #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader

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pretty-red-garnet · 6 months

Text

Pumpkins and Candy

Daryl Dixon x fem! Reader • Commonwealth • Fluff

Happy Halloween!

It was Halloween in the Commonwealth. Your eyes danced between all the different venders handing out treats, each one sweeter than the last. The day was warm, the sun cascading over the large street festival. People crowded the streets, kids in costumes followed by their parents.

You never imagined you'd be celebrating Halloween after the end of the world.

You moved your gaze to instead look at Daryl, sweetly playing and talking with RJ. You begin to smile without even meaning to. The sight was unbelievably adorable, you'd even say domestic. Daryl smiling and tossing an apple on a string for little RJ to catch.

Daryl with the kids was always something you'd watched with great adoration. It seemed kids were just drawn to him, and he never minded. He was so good with them. In fact, it was watching Daryl with little Jude that made you realize you were in love with the man.

It was after Rick died, after you'd known him for about a year. Daryl was gone more often than not then, but he always made sure to be there for his niece and nephew. Always hugging and holding them tight first thing when he arrived back to Alexandria for trading.

Judith was young, and jumped into his arms so fast he almost fell back. He smiled so brightly, so genuinely. Your heart fell to your stomach so fast it made you sick. You were down bad, and it wasn't going away any time soon.

And now that you and him were neighbors in the same shitty building, you were closer than ever. Having dinner together most nights when he was too tired to cook, watching the kids when he was busy, spending most of your free time together. You were both pretty much attached at the hip. You'd even call him your best friend. He was the one person you knew you could count on for anything.

"You are so smitten," Carol says, breaking you out of your stupor with a startle. You roll your eyes and giggle a little, although it sounds more awkward and tense than you intended.

"Am not." Her elbow meets your ribs and she grins at you.

"Smitten as a kitten." You purse your lips at her to stop your smirk, although it breaks through.

"You're ridiculous," you say, crossing your arms and turning away from her slightly to return your eyes to Daryl. "Aren't you supposed to be handing out cookies or something? Or do you get paid to bother me?"

Carol laughs and shakes her head. She watches as you— not so discretely— gawk at Daryl. She lets out a deep sigh.

"Why don't you just tell him?" She asks.

"Tell him what?" You retort, playing dumb and not meeting her gaze.

"That you're in love with him!"

"Shhh!" Your eyes glance around almost comically, making sure no one hears the woman. "I am not!"

"If you weren't, you wouldn't care if anyone heard." She rises an eyebrow, making you scowl and scoff at her. Carol was the type of person that can always read others. She was always watching, she knew how everyone thought. It was pretty scary.

"I didn't want Daryl to hear!"

"Didn't want me to hear what?" Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Daryl stands beside you, watching you with a curious expression. Your mouth opens, then closes. You struggle to come out with a response, mind totally blank.

"Uh," you mumble. "Nothing." Daryl furrows his brows, regarding you with a look somewhere between concerned and straight up confused.

"I guess the secret is out, Y/N," Carol says, melodramatically with a shrug. "You should just tell him."

Your face blanches, your mouth continues to gasp like a fish. Daryl looks even more confused now, looking between you and Carol.

"That you're cooking Daryl's favorite meal tonight!" Carol says, excitedly. You let out a breath. While now you have to make dinner instead of relaxing at home like you'd planned, at least it was a save. Somewhat.

"You don't gotta do that," Daryl says, looking at you with that adorably concerned expression he always has when someone tries doing anything for him. His brow pinched and teeth biting the inside of his cheek.

"She wants to, Daryl," Carol says, placing her hands on her hips. You look from Daryl to Carol, feeling strange and helpless that Carol was speaking on your behalf with you right there. It was a little nice though, since the near-revelation of your romantic feelings for Daryl was still making your mind swim.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you finally stumble out, awkwardly and with a stutter. "Sorry to spoil it."

"Don't gotta be sorry, I shouldn't have listened in," he says with a shrug and a little half smile that made your heart pound. "We'll go to yours tonight then?"

"Actually!" Carol buts in again. "I'll take Judith and RJ trick or treating. It could be just you two tonight." Carol's smile is a weird combination of scary and Betty Crocker. She's setting up a date.

"You sure?" Daryl asks, only to be met with Carol's enthusiastic nod. "Alright, sure. I better get back to the kids." Daryl steps away and once he's out of sight, you immediately wack Carol on the shoulder.

"What?!" Carol yelps. "You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" You ask, incredulously. "That was so embarrassing."

"I got you a date, Y/N. Yes, thank me."

Hours later, and dinner is done. Your apartment is warm and humid from the stove, but the delicious smell of seared meat makes the heat bearable. Your stir fry of squirrel meat and rice sit on the counter, awaiting Daryl's visit. You aren't quite sure if the stir fry was Daryl's favorite meal, but he did mention he liked it best of your cooking.

He's a little late. He was supposed to come by yours right after the Halloween masquerade party, but he still hasn't shown. You sit at your table, picking at your fingernails and tapping your foot. Your eyes keep glancing over at your clock on the wall and you sigh at every passing minute.

You know your destress is a little dramatic. You usually wouldn't be this anxious, but Carol's label of a 'date' rattling around in your brain made tonight feel different. Besides, Daryl is a busy man.

He worked all day, he could be tired. Maybe he forgot? Although it did seem out of character for Daryl to just not show up, he wasn't the type to stand people up.

Your worry is quickly cut short by three quick knocks at the door. You smile and quickly make your way to the door, swinging it open.

"Hey," you greet, moving aside for him to enter.

"Hey," he answers, pointing at the little bucket of candy you have beside your door propped up by two pumpkins. There's a little 'take one' sign that you hand painted accompanying it. "I know I ain't a kid, can I have one anyway?"

"Sure, obey the sign," you say, teasingly smiling at him. He scoffs a little, digging his hand in the bowl and pulling out two candies. You gasp, placing a hand on your chest and looking at Daryl with a dramatic expression on your face. "How could you?"

A smirk takes over Daryl's face before he covers it with another scoff, shaking his head. He pushes you aside to enter your warm apartment, immediately pulling at the neck of his long sleeved shirt.

"Ones for you, dumbass," Daryl says before he smacks your shoulder with a candy. You take it immediately to unwrap it and pop it into your mouth. It was your favorite candy that the little shop in the middle of town makes, and it warms your heart that Daryl remembered which is your favorite.

"Come on, dinners ready." Daryl follows you into the kitchen.

"Already?" He asks, grabbing his plate that you already made.

"You're late, Dixon." Daryl grimaces a little, a quiet groan leaving his lips.

"Sorry, shit went down at the party." You smile and wave your hand in a dismissing manner.

"I'm just teasing you." You and Daryl sit down at your small, round kitchen table. You both eat quietly, Daryl scarfing down his meal like a man starved. Luckily, most are out on the town celebrating Halloween, so the building is quieter than usual. Celebrating. That truly is surreal.

"What're you thinking 'bout?" Daryl asks, having seen the thoughtful look on your face.

"I just never thought I'd ever see Halloween again I guess." You shrug and smile lightly. "I used to love it when I was a kid. Was my favorite."

"Never celebrated it," Daryl mumbles, almost embarrassed. Your eyebrows fly up in surprise.

"No? Not even trick or treating?"

"Nah, no one gave candy. Lotta assholes in my neighborhood," Daryl answers, piling the last bit of rice and meat on his fork. You don't answer and Daryl looks up, shrugging when he sees your saddened expression. "S'fine. Can eat all of Jude and RJ's candy now."

"You've at least carved pumpkins, right?" Daryl looks down, not wanting to sadden you even further with his answer you assume.

You knew Daryl didn't have the best childhood, that his dad was a dick. But you looked back so fondly at Halloween, and it upsets you that Daryl didn't. It made your chest hurt that he didn't have happy memories of dressing up, or getting candy and rushing home to see the goods.

You look down to your lap for a moment, before getting an idea. You shoot up out of your chair, ignoring Daryl's inquiring gaze. You rush out of your front door and stoop to the ground, grabbing the candy bucket up from the pumpkins and dropping it to the ground. You hoist up the two—rather large— pumpkins before lugging them to the kitchen table, making sure the kick the door shut first.

Daryl is now awkwardly standing at your table, already having placed your dishes in the sink. He still has that cute, confused look on his face, but when he sees the pumpkins, it dawns on him and his lips quirk up in a smile. You smile back, a huge and bright grin that makes Daryl's face light up even more.

You're about to grab the knives before another thought hits you, and you jog out of the kitchen to the front door once again. You scoop up the candy bucket, flipping off the light outside your door and bringing that too to the kitchen.

"Ain't that for the kids?" Daryl asks, jutting his chin towards the candy. He leans against the counter with a teasing twinkle in his eye as he watches you set everything up.

"Kids are brats anyway, and I paid for it so I can do whatever I want." Daryl laughs at that, just a huff of air escaping his chest. Basically cracking up for Daryl.

Not five minutes later, both of you are sitting at the table forearm deep in pumpkin guts. The table rattles and shakes with the vigorous scraping of the pumpkin, an attempt to thin the inside of the thick walls.

Daryl's tongue is sticking out of his mouth in concentration, and you resort by not looking at him because if you do, you're sure you'll pass out from the flip flopping of your stomach. He keeps glancing at you and your pumpkin, his eyes narrow and focused, to confirm he's doing the right thing.

Once both pumpkins are empty and clean, you get a baking sheet ready and begin to separate the pumpkin guts from the seeds. You place them all evenly and sprinkle a good amount of salt on them. All the while, Daryl watches.

"You like baked pumpkin seeds?"

"Never had 'em," Daryl responses with a shrug. You pop them in the oven and grab two knives, handing one to Daryl.

"Now the fun part."

It doesn't take long for both pumpkins to be carved up, even with the occasional pauses for bites of candy. Daryl is rougher with his knife than you, sticking the knife in and dragging the blade harshly. He does this with great intensity and focus, however, leaning back and moving the pumpkin to look at it from all angles.

You, on the other hand, are much lighter handed. Precisely moving your knife around the orange vegetable to make it perfect. Your hands trained and careful from years of carving.

You and Daryl place your carving tools down around the same time. You turn your pumpkin around to show it off, a big grin covering your face. Daryl smiles lightly looking at your jack o lantern, a large toothy grin with big eyes. It looks almost perfect, directly in the middle of the pumpkin with clean cuts. Daryl suddenly looks embarrassed.

"Mine ain't good," he says lowly, scratching a nonexistent itch at the back of his scalp.

"I'm sure it's perfect! Turn it around," you assure, persuading him to show you his carved pumpkin. He glances at you for a moment, biting his lip before he concedes and turns his pumpkin around.

Daryl's jack o lantern isn't as cleanly done. His doesn't look happy like yours, lips placed in a snarl that is a little crooked on one side. The eyes are off center and one is a little bigger than the other. Despite the quirks, it's perfect in your eyes. Almost as adorable as Daryl's bashful expression.

"It's so cute!" You exclaim, and Daryl shrugs, looking down at his hands tangling together. "I think it's perfect."

"Whatever you say," Daryl says, a huff of air escapes his lips. He finally looks up from his hands and sees your face, smirking when he does. You frown.

"What?" You ask, self consciously. Daryl shakes his head, smiling even larger at your expression.

"You got a little somethin'," Daryl says, motioning with his finger at his own face. You touch your face briefly, trying to feel what he was motioning to. Before you could get whatever it was off your face, Daryl's fingers replace yours.

His fingers, calloused by years of hard labor, are surprisingly gentle at getting the mess of your cheek. He wipes off the sticky residue, showing you the stringy pumpkin guts before chucking it at the table. But even after, his fingers slowly and hesitantly return to your cheek, softly caressing the flushed skin.

It's like he was drawn to you and he can't help it. Two magnets pulled together against either of your wills. You're positive you can't pull away, even if you wanted to. Both stuck in this position, with Daryl slouched in his chair to lean towards you, and you ridged and stick staring at his face.

His face, which you've carefully studied plenty of times, had never seemed so soft. The rugged scar down the center of his eye and cheek at great contrast to his loving expression. He's nibbling at the inside of his cheek, and his eyes cast nervously from your eyes to his hand, which seems to be moving on its own accord.

Before long, you're kissing him. You don't really know who kissed who, just that one second Daryl was staring at you with those pretty blue eyes of his, and the next your lips were on his.

The kitchen table digs into your ribs because of the angle, both you and Daryl leaning forward in your chairs to get to each other. You don't mind, the discomfort barely even registering in your brain. All you can think of is Daryl, and his hand still resting on your cheek and how his lips are chapped, but somehow still soft. How you've been thinking about this for so long, and you can't believe that Daryl is actually kissing you right now.

Unable to take the uncomfortable angle any longer, you stand just slightly without removing your lips from Daryl's. You shuffle closer to him, leaning down and raising your knee to rest on the chair between Daryl's legs. Daryl leans back to accommodate you, and his hand drops from your cheek to grab your waist, pulling your body even closer to his. Your hands meet his shoulders to steady yourself, and you kiss him harder.

Daryl's fingers tremble, but they slowly slide under your shirt. Your quiet groan is muffled by Daryl's lips, but he heard— or felt— anyway, telling from the smile that curves his lips. You only part for hurried pants of air, before he chases your mouth again. It's a game of push and pull that neither of you want to ever end. It might've never ended, only if you never put those pumpkin seeds in the oven.

The loud, shrill noise from the oven beeping is a great difference from the quiet passion that was just taking place. You and Daryl startle away from each other. Your hands are still on his shoulders and his fingers still squeeze at your hips, but you're both looking towards the interrupting oven.

You slowly turn your gaze back to Daryl. He's still looking at the oven, with a anxious look on his flushed face. His hair is messy from your wandering fingers, and his eyebrows are low from what you could only assume is embarrassment. You smile and tap his cheek, and Daryl turns to look at you with uneasy eyes.

"Ready for those pumpkin seeds?" You ask, smoothing down his hair. His face relaxes at the sweet gesture, like he thought you'd be upset or something for kissing. Daryl can be silly sometimes.

He nods and returns your smile, and you can't help but place one more hesitant and quick peck to his mouth. He chases you when you pull away, and you giggle. You allow yourself to card your fingers through his wavy hair one last time before you pull away from him completely.

You pull out your roasted pumpkin seeds and lay the sheet down on the cooling rack. You admire the perfectly done seeds and look back at Daryl to share the feeling. His ears and cheeks are still red, and he has a small bashful grin on his face. Your lips quirk up on their own accord.

Maybe Daryl didn't have great memories of Halloween to look back on, but you hope you gave him at least one he won't forget.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x you #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon fluff #halloween

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companionjones · 10 months

Text

Copenhagen

Pairing: Luca x Fem!Berzatto!Reader

Fandom: The Bear (Hulu)

Summary: You go to Copenhagen with Marcus, and meet Luca.

Warnings: SMUT, Cursing

*******

“I don’t know why you’re coming with me,” Marcus stated in the airport. “You know I can do this by myself.”

“I do know you can do this by yourself,” you agreed, “But I can’t explain it. I have to watch you do this by yourself...and going to Copenhagen is pretty great, too.”

Marcus smiled. “Yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes.

You were a Berzatto, Bear and Sugar’s little sister. It was Carmy’s idea to open a new restaurant when you all found Mikey’s money, and you and Nat were just helping out where you could. You threw yourself into this new project, though. A lot of it was to honor your late brother, but there was something else involved. You couldn’t put your finger on it, no matter how hard you tried. For some reason, you were as driven to open up the Bear as Carmy was, and you weren’t even involved in the kitchen.

Copenhagen was a beautiful city. Honestly, you loved anywhere that wasn’t America, but Chicago was your home.

“Who are you?” a British voice called out as you entered the pastry section of the kitchen.

You caught the eye of the man wondering who you were and quickly answered, “My name is Y/n Berzatto, are you Luca?”

He nodded, “That’s correct. You’re here to ask me questions?”

“About Marcus and your time together today, yes,” you confirmed.

Before you could get your first question in, Luca had a query of his own. “Why didn’t you come in with Marcus today?”

“We’re opening a restaurant back in Chicago. There’s a lot of stuff I have to do,” you smiled.

Luca smiled as well. “Alright. Fire away.”

You had a few questions to as Luca regarding Marcus and the craft, and that took you about ten minutes. “Thank you,” you bid genuinely when you were done.

“No problem,” Luca was still smiling at you. “Can I ask, why did you come all the way to another country when you could have sent those questions in an email?”

There was that same line of questioning Marcus had been asking you as you got on the plane over there. “Because...I just want everything to go right for this restaurant. I can’t explain it...but...”

“You care about everything, more than anything,” he finished for you.

That was the best you had heard your reasoning be explained, and you weren’t even the one that explained it. “Yeah,” you smiled at him in return.

“Yeah.” Luca went on, “Do you cook?”

“No, no,” you laughed off. “That’s my brothers’ thing. My-my sister and I stick to the paperwork side of things.”

“I find that surprising,” Luca revealed, “Carmen is the best chef I’ve ever worked with.”

You laughed again. “Yeah, I get that all the time.”

“Do you want to help me out with something?” Luca offered.

Daring forward, you peaked at his work. “What is it?”

“It’s called a compote. I could teach you how to make it, if you’d like.”

“Haven’t you done enough teaching for today?” You referenced Marcus.

Luca just smiled at you. “I don’t consider this work. Especially involving someone as beautiful as you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Well, how could I say no to that invitation?”

Making it was easy enough. It involved boiling mixed berries, sugar, and honey...and that’s about it. You knew he went extra easy on you.

“Do you make this dessert for all the girls who wander into your kitchen?” you teased as you and Luca shared the compote.

He was quick to quietly respond. “No. Only you.”

A chill ran down your spine. You decided to remind him. “I’m only in Copenhagen for a week.”

“Darling, I’ve been wanting to do this since you walked in here.”

Without another thought, you leaned in and kissed him.

Almost everything about him was soft. His hands as they caressed your face, his lips as they danced with yours, everything was soft except for his chest as you racked your hands down it, aiming for his belt. His chest was hard as hell. You could feel his muscles flex as your hands came in contact with him.

Luca stopped you as you reached his belt. “Not yet,” he told you before standing and lifting you up onto the counter with little effort, “Can I take these pants off, darling?”

You lifted your hips as he slid the clothing down your legs. He planted a few kisses on them as he rose back up to meet your lips again.

Luca stood between your legs and slid his fingers up your folds as he kissed you. He held the two fingers up between you. “All this for me?”

“You weren’t the only one who wanted this to happen as soon as I walked in,” you revealed.

Luca put his two fingers in his mouth and sucked, all while keeping his eyes on you. “Now this is the best thing I can remember tasting in a long time...you ready?”

“Please,” you nodded.

Luca kissed you again before inserting his two fingers inside you.

You whined against his lips, and grabbed onto his shoulders.

Slowly, he started pumping them in and out of you with you rocking your hips along with him. Luca made out with you as he did that. You could barely keep up with his tongue. Soon, he brought in three fingers, and suddenly, you couldn’t keep up at all. You decided to wrap your legs around Luca and to just sit there and let it happen to you.

You felt your orgasm rising in your stomach. You were almost there when Luca pulled his fingers out of you.

“Fuck, darling. Can’t take it anymore,” was all he could say. He pulled his pants down enough to free his sizeable dick before shoving it inside you.

You let out a yelp, but Luca cut you off by covering your lips with his again.

Luca immediately started thrusting in and out of you. “That’s more like it,” he said when he broke away from kissing you. At a certain point, he just held you close as he, almost violently, made love to you.

“Luc--!” Your voice broke off as you came.

“That’s it. Squeeze me just like that--Good girl,” Luca emphasized as he came inside you with one final thrust. He brought his forehead back to yours before holding you in another kiss.

When that kiss broke, you asked Luca, “Can I have my pants back, please?”

“Of course.” He broke away from you with a laugh as he quickly readjusted his pants and belt and found your clothes lying on the floor.

You took the last bite of the compote as you waited.

With everyone’s clothes back on, Luca extended, “You’re more than welcome to come back any time you’d like, and not just for...that. Though, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed, either,” you returned, mocking his accent.

Luca cracked a smile as he looked at you. He slowly leaned back in for another kiss.

When you returned it, Luca leaned you against the counter.

The kiss eventually ended and you bid, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Luca.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/n.”

Two of your hands touched as you walked away, only breaking contact when you were too far to keep it.

You left Luca alone in his kitchen.

Sequel! Chicago

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more stories over on my page, you should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you!

#luca #luca the bear #luca the bear x reader #will poulter x reader #luca smut #luca the bear smut #luca the bear x reader smut #will poulter x reader smut #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear smut #will poulter #companion jones #copenhagen

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veryace-ficrecs · 5 months

Note

Do you have any zosan fic recs?

Of course I do! Here are some

Zosan Fic Recs

all the hidden love, beneath by Giosele - Rated M

His eyes flicker towards the more discernible scars, the deep ones with smooth taut skin. The ones his hands have traced hundreds of times. Then Sanji spots the fresh, poorly stitched wound dancing across Zoro’s flank. The shoddy quality screams Mosshead. “Moron.” Sanji crumples his cigarette and flattens it underfoot in one smooth motion. “Idiot. You stupid, reckless swordsman. Stay here, I’ll get Chopper.” -- The crew is a wreck after Enies' Lobby. Despite being a wreck himself, Sanji tries to take care of them all.

you got time, you're on the mend, babe by steeringwheeleater - Rated T

“He doesn't trust me, and he obviously doesn’t want the captain to know.” “He doesn’t want me to know, either.” “He knows that you know, Cook.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Sanji’s shoulders creep up again. “… Sorry.” Robin adjusts her stance from one leg to the other; her nearest analog to rolling her eyes. “You’ve been too gentle with him to be subtle, Cook. It’s like I said: you’ve been defending him to the others.”

Kept Down, Helped Up by Gay_as_fuck - Rated T

Zoro's near death in Wano strains the crew, the latest in a long line of risk taking. A very stressed Nami solves this problem by throwing Sanji at it.

In Tandem by lemon_drop48 - Rated M

"I wanted to make you laugh." The honest admission felt dumb the second it came out of his mouth. It's too breathy, he's still out of breath from a distinct lack of oxygen recently. And there's no way the cook understands - Sanji throws back his head in laughter. For a moment there isn't even fear that he's laughing at him. Sanji's laugh is beautiful, and seeing that huge smile spread across his cheeks in genuine mirth felt like it was priceless.

revelations by cloversome - Rated T

It's been three days since Zoro blacked out. When he finally awakens, he finds his spirit is detached from his still unconscious body.

Demon's Deception by Maik_Morrow - Rated T

Summary

Having read an article about the ‘Demon of the East’ years prior to joining the Strawhat crew, Sanji was confused. He didn't understand how the man he heard would be a ruthless monster could be so different. All he saw was a caring, kind and gentle man. Until he understood the reason some time later.

It’s In His Kiss by Hazel_Athena - Rated G

They reach the island of Bise early in the new year.

unintended consequence by itsmylifekay - Rated T

Imagine person A making person B a friendship bracelet, expecting person B to never wear it, but when it’s given to them person B puts it on and is rarely seen with it off. A group of marines charge, Zoro slices through them, and in that instant Sanji feels his own eyes grow wide. Because there, on the arm now outstretched towards him, steel glinting in hand, is the stupid bracelet he’d given Zoro. The bastard is actually wearing it.

Language of love by averybidisaster - Rated E

It irked Zoro that upon meeting him, a whirlwind of limbs, blue eyes and a cigarette dangling from his cocky smile, something in his gut flip-flopped, instead of the usual, clear feeling he usually got when he met men, like a natural yes/no answer. Obviously, the lovesick fool greatly admired women, ceaselessly shouting his love for them at any opportunity. But he had met many a man like that who still sought to warm his bed- and Sanji was... well, Sanji . His simple existence riles Zoro up like no other. And why does it matter to him what the shitty cook’s preferences are anyways? OR Zoro secretely learns French to understand Sanji. Because that’s obviously the easiest way to learn if the cook likes men.

Did You Know Marimo Came In Pink? by wiillowwriites - Rated T

After some some accidental tickling turns into something very intentional, Sanji’s the first of the two to notice that Zoro seems to be enjoying himself. Zoro isn’t quite sure what to do with the realization, but Sanji has an idea.

waiting by tinyjet7 - Rated G

zoro watches sanji hand out treats to everyone but him.

Ink by BleuReivers - Rated T

He’d gotten the first one for no reason other than he’d simply wanted it. Had ever since he’d first laid eyes on one of the cook’s ink during his Baratie days. It had taken him a while to actually get it and for a while he’d been convinced he never would. But, as the years went on and he crossed paths with more and more people who bore elaborate and, honestly, beautiful tattoos, the desire grew until he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

ham and rice by hailure - Rated G

"I'll get that bastard gets all the food he wants and then more. You don't need to forfeit your protein serving for that." "Oh, now I get it." Zoro's face turned mischievious, his nose bridge tinted with red now that the alcohol was briefly kicking in. "You're worried about me." After their victory in Wano, Sanji is not amused that Zoro just can't seem to eat properly.

Here’s To Us by TextlessNovel - Rated T

In which sharing a drink can tear down walls in a way that Sanji and Zoro never expected.

#veryace asks #one piece fanfiction #one piece #zosan #one piece zosan #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #strawhat pirates #straw hat crew #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3

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lucysgraybird · 6 days

Text

whoa...part 3 of modern!university!coriolanus x fem!reader, and it's 18+? who is she. anyways part 1 here, part 2 here

warnings: mdni, oral (f&m receiving), p in v (unprotected), blood mentions (minor), religious imagery (minor)

The summer between junior and senior year comes and goes, as does the first semester of your last year in college. It's filled with internships and grad school applications, but you're still going strong with Coriolanus. You get through the most unguarded you've ever seen him – the weeks leading up to the release of LSAT scores. You're actually unaware that it's coming up because he's been so private about the whole process until you get into a screaming match in the Snow apartment with him about something you can't even remember now. When you threaten to leave if he can't be polite, he breaks down crying – something you didn't even know he was capable of. He apologizes and explains himself, and though you suspect his tears aren't genuine, you catch him in a hug and hold him on the couch until he falls asleep.

A week letter, his score comes in the mail: a perfect 180. The celebration is quiet – just you, his family, and his boss, who Coriolanus is closer with than you knew. He's an interesting man – his name is Strabo Plinth, and you learn that he's the CEO of a company that manufactures weapons for the government. You want to tell your boyfriend that such a job may not play well on his resumé at the polls, if that's where he wants to end up, but it's not your place and you're sure he's thought about that.

All in all, by the time the spring semester rolls around, your futures are beginning to take shape. You both get into your dream schools, him for law and you for intelligence analysis. When that letter comes in, Coriolanus teases you up and down about being the stereotypical academic recruit into the CIA, but you care more to understand these agencies than work for them. You won't attend school together anymore, but it's not more than an hour by train to visit, and there's been no indication of the end of your relationship nearing. In fact, when your parents come down for parents’ weekend, Coriolanus spends about forty minutes talking to your father away from you and your mother, and when they rejoin the group, your father claps you on the shoulder and tells you that you found a good man.

There's a brief, blissful period at the end of the year before graduation when everything's been turned in and you can just enjoy the sunshine and new warmth. One of these days finds you and Coriolanus lounging on the quad on a blanket. Your head is in his lap as he plays with your hair, working his fingers through the small tangles that the early May breeze has created. It is quiet, and you are bored.

“Oh, Coriolanus,” you say, opening your eyes to lock on his. The midday light turns them almost white, like his eponymous snow. It takes a lot of willpower not to pull a face.

“Yes, darling?” A nickname he's picked up in the last month or so. It made you laugh in shock the first time he said it, but now it feels lush.

“I got an email from the dean the other day. I made valedictorian,” you say with a toothy, cruel grin.

You're hoping for a reaction, maybe a flash of anger. It dances across his features for the barest fraction of a second, enough to work a little adrenaline through your body, and then you get a neat smile and a cock of his head.

“Congratulations.”

“You're not mad?”

“Why would I be? You've worked hard, you deserve it. I'm not going to get upset over a silly title.”

You sit up and turn to stare at him. “What do you mean, silly?”

Coriolanus rolls his eyes. “Don’t be like that. I mean that I decided it wasn’t important to me anymore, now that I’ve gotten into law school. I thought you had gotten over it too, but since it’s important, congratulations.”

He’s deflecting, obviously, and you tell him as much.

The corners of his mouth quirk up and he shrugs. “Okay.”

“No, you are! What, did you get salutatorian? Since when are you fine with second place?”

“Since first place wouldn’t have gotten me anything, darling. You’re ruining this for yourself, okay? I’m glad you got what you wanted.”

You’re left with nothing to say, searching his face for any mark of that brief rage from earlier before flumping back into his lap. He laughs.

“I’m sorry, baby. You don’t need to pout. I would’ve said something else if I had known it was going to upset you like this.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m not,” you say, giving him a gracious smile, having found a new mate-in-one. “Whether or not you wanted the title anymore, we’ll always know who’s smarter.”

Your face says teasing – your tone has teeth. Coriolanus’ eyes narrow.

“That’s not what this means.”

“It’s what it means to me. And you clearly don’t care about that, so it should be no problem if that’s how I’m taking it.”

And ooh, you know it’s petty. You know this is possibly the most childish conversation you’ve had with anyone in years. But he doesn’t reply, opting instead to settle back on his hands and stare across the quad. There’s a mean tension in the air now, blooming hot, fizzy pride in your sternum. It’s nearly suffocating, but you breathe through it until it’s just another triumph.

Graduation goes as smoothly as anything run by the school can – which is to say, too long and a bureaucratic clusterfuck – but you give your speech and get your diploma and take about forty pictures of Coriolanus onstage, and it feels like the perfect punctuation on this chapter of your life. After seemingly endless festivities and photoshoots with various family members, you’re dropped back at your apartment. There is no work to be done, for once: nothing to write or study, and your lease doesn’t end for another month, so nothing to pack. For the first time in your memory, you are truly idle, and you’re learning that it is not a feeling you enjoy. You pick up your phone and call your boyfriend.

“Hi, darling,” he says when he picks up. His voice is brighter than usual, a sure sign that he’s been drinking. “Did you get home okay?”

“Mhm. Did you?”

“Just laying in bed now.”

“Oh.” You try to keep yourself from sounding too disappointed, but from the huff of laughter on the other end of the call, you know he’s picked up on it.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come over, but if you’re in bed, then nevermind.”

“Come over, like–”

“If you want.” You have yet to go this far with him, but tonight seems like as good a night as any.

“Um, okay. Yeah, I’ll be right over.”

The line goes dead, and you have to laugh. For all his airs and poise, he is still just a man.

The benefit of today being important is that you’re already pretty done-up: your makeup is still perfect, though your lipstick gets a reapplication, your hair looks good, and you have matching, nicer undergarments on. Honestly, you’re not really sure what you’re supposed to do for this, not with him, and the confidence you had calling Coriolanus is fading fast.

Unfortunately, it’s too late to be having those thoughts, because within twenty minutes, he’s knocking on your door. You let him in. He's still in his button-down, tie, and slacks from graduation, though he's shed his suit jacket. He leans down to catch you in a quick kiss. You wrap a hand around the Windsor knot in his tie, though whether it's to steady yourself or pull him closer is a mystery even to you. Not like it makes a difference; it elicits an electric, low groan from him anyways, his mouth opening over yours and deepening the kiss. He tastes like champagne, sweet and shimmery and young. It is a contrast to the way he grabs your waist with a heavy hand and presses his tongue in to fight yours, which feels like whiskey; all heady, stinging heat. You have not had anything to drink: you are starting to wish you had.

When he pulls away to catch his breath, his lips are swollen and slick and stained with your blood-red lipstick and finally, finally, something alights in your chest and in your stomach and even lower, a ball of fire sitting in the cradle of your pelvis. You release his tie and drag a manicured thumbnail under the line of his bottom lip, smudging away the rouge you left there.

“Pretty,” you murmur, though you're not sure where that comes from. He is pretty, though, especially like this; undone and imperfect and desperate (you can tell as much by the way he's pressing into your hip), all for you.

A growl releases from Coriolanus' throat and his hand goes to the belt of your dress, deftly undoing the buckle. He is desperate, but desperate for you to know that you haven't made him weak. You can only have from him what he is willing to give, he will take from you anything he wants. Or, at least, that's how he thinks as he starts dragging the zipper of your dress down, crowding you against your apartment wall.

“I have a bed, Coriolanus,” you protest weakly, the complaint dying on your lips as his latch onto your pulse point. He scrapes his teeth over the tendon in your neck, and you recall how he smiled at you when you were first dating, like he wanted to eat you. You realize he could now, if he tried, open his maw wide and sink sharp canines into the side of your throat, pierce the carotid artery and stain perfect teeth red with blood. Tipping your head back against the wall, you shiver and give him better access.

“Let’s go, then,” he murmurs, not stopping his ministrations on your collarbone, where he's working a bruise into the hollow between your clavicle and the muscle of your shoulder.

You shove his head back gently and lead him to your room, which is tidy save for your desk, which is still scattered with papers from exams. Coriolanus doesn't seem to care, just crowding you back towards your hospital-cornered bed. Once you're down, he's crawling over you and returning to suck marks down your shoulders and chest as he tugs your dress off your body. When he gets to your bra (a small, silk thing, meant to lay smooth under the dress you wore today), he just stares for a moment, tracing a finger over the fine fabric. Just as you're about to tell him to do something, Jesus Christ, he latches his lips over your nipple and mouths at it through the cloth, sending sparks down your spine and a wavering moan up your esophagus. When he switches to the other side, the wet patch is exposed to the air and the sudden chill is almost more electric than the warmth of his tongue. You wonder if he could push you over the edge with just this; it certainly feels like he could. Then he shoves a hand under your back to release the clasp and tear your bra off, and the two seconds his mouth is off your skin gives just enough reprieve that when he returns and bites down, the rush of pleasure drops straight to your core with an ache that has your hips canting up. This inspires a breathy, warm chuckle from Coriolanus.

“Impatient,” he teases.

You swallow hard. “It's not my fault you're…”

“Good at this?” He says, dipping his hand between your legs and dancing his fingers over the gusset of your panties, eliciting a whimper and an honest nod from you.

“You don't know the half of it, darling,” and he hooks his arms under your knees to drag your hips forward until they're nearly off the bed. He's knelt between your legs like he's taking the Eucharist, ready to devour the blood and body of all that is holy. You watch his blonde head through fluttering lashes as he licks a line up the inside of your thigh before biting down right where it meets your hip. He breaks the skin, soothes the little wound with his tongue as he works your underwear down your legs. The way he stares at you – all of you – while he's still fully clothed, no mark of the past half-hour except his loosened tie and lipstick-marked mouth, makes you squirm. He braces your hips down with a strong forearm and looks up at you with a hunger in his icy eyes that is yet unfamiliar to you.

“Pretty,” he whispers like the beginning of a prayer, echoing your earlier utterance, and collects your wetness on his index finger as he runs it through your folds.

The foreign feeling makes you whine. Coriolanus’ tongue flicks out over his lips like a snake before he dives into your cunt like a man starved. When your hand shoots down and grabs his hair, the groan that he lets out against you has you jerking like you've been electrocuted. He only grabs the fat of your hips harder, the pads of his fingers pressing in so hard that you're sure you'll have little dotted bruises there in the morning. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he works you to orgasm, your body trembling and your breath stilted as you teeter on that peak. His eyes flash and one hand releases you. Before you can ask what he's doing, he plunges two fingers into you and curls them up right as he sucks your clit hard, and that pain-pleasure of the sudden intrusion combined with his mouth has white-hot flames engulfing your body as stars explode in your vision and your legs very nearly go numb. His tongue and fingers don't stop until you're coming down and pleading with him in a broken voice, an orison to the congregant turned deity drunk on newfound power. He acquiesces, though, crawling up your body to kiss you and lick the taste of your pleasure into your mouth. Underneath it, there's the bitter, sanguine taste from his bite to your thigh, a reminder of the vulnerability necessary for that blessing.

Legs still shaking, head still a little fuzzy, you use his determination to kiss you breathless to flip the narrative so you're straddling his hips, his growing need heavy and hard against you through the fabric of his dress pants. One eyebrow twitches up as he grins, though it wavers when you shift on him.

“My turn?” He asks as he smooths his hands down your thighs, and you know he can feel the way your muscles twitch and jump under your skin.

“Your turn,” you reply, and shift so you can undo his belt.

The metal of the buckle is cold in your hands, your skin still feeling a little like it's been set aflame, but you get it off and shove your hand into his boxers, unceremoniously pulling out his cock. He lets out a choked groan at the speed, and you think his eyes roll back in his head when you slide down his body. You allow yourself a moment of hesitation, having never done this before (or even really thought about it) before taking the head in your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. The moan he lets out is primal, raw, and you are determined to get another from him as you hollow your cheeks and sink down further, minding your teeth enough to let them just graze the shaft. He shudders and jerks upward, hitting the back of your throat, and though it makes you gag, there's a certain pride in knowing you're breaking his composure, so you hold him there for a moment until he whimpers and slides a hand into your hair and you know you've taken the power back that he stole from you a moment ago. You swallow around him there before slowly moving back up, flattening your tongue against the underside before licking over his slit and sinking back down as far as you can bear, and his voice cracks around a moan as he cums down your throat.

When you pull off him and swallow, he has an arm thrown over his eyes as he catches his breath.

“Where did you learn to do that?” He asks. His hair is tousled, sweaty strands stuck to his forehead and you grin, toothy and mean.

“Beginner’s luck,” you say as you take his softening dick in hand and watch how quickly he sits up.

“What are you-” he starts, but cuts himself off with a whine as you slide your hand up and down a couple times, trying to work him back up. “Stop, stop, that-”

Another moan, and you watch, pleased, as he starts to harden again in your grip. To be honest, you don't know where you're going with this, or what you expected to happen, you just wanted to see what other reactions you could get from him, how far you could take your regained power.

As it stands, not very far, because he's hissing as you slide your thumb over the tip and flipping you over again so his elbows are braced next to your head.

“You're on the pill, right?” He reaches down between you to swipe his fingers over your clit.

You nod and buck your hips up into his hand, and with a breathy chuckle, he takes himself in hand and starts to guide himself into your entrance. There's a slight sting - he's bigger than anyone you've ever been with before - but he takes it slow, an uncharacteristic tenderness.

That is, until he's buried to the hilt and staring down at you, then snapping his hips in a way that should hurt but doesn't. It feels full and close and warm, his skin sliding against yours, sweat and other fluids mingling. You sneak a hand down to your clit and rub quick and hard, the way you do when you're alone at night and just need to get off and go to sleep. You're determined to reach your release before he does and you succeed, catching him in a kiss just as you cum, muffling your moans against his lips. The way your walls clench around him has him going rigid and giving you the most raw, tearing groan as he spills deep inside you, clearly not having expected to get there as quickly as you forced him to. He doesn't pull out immediately, opting instead to kiss you again, and you're not sure where you end and he begins, every bit of you mixed, in some way, with every bit of him. You stroke over the tense muscles in the back of his neck and he lets out a shaky breath onto your skin. Somehow, you know you've won this round, taken a weakness from him that he never meant to show you. When he rolls off you and tugs you into his side, you close your eyes, sleepy and sated in more ways than one.

#this...this was fun #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x you #coryo #coryo x reader #coryo snow #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader

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strniohoeee · 5 months

Text

Envious

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader (chubby reader)

Synopsis: Y/N just hates her body, and although the triplets try to make her feel better some hate comments get to her. But Chris is there to make her feel better🫂

Warnings⚠️: None she cute asf or whatever 🤭

Song for the imagine: Jealousy, Jealousy-Olivia Rodrigo

I’m so sick of myself

I’d rather be, rather

Anyone, anyone else

I hated how scrolling through instagram made me feel. Perfect bodies, white teeth, long healthy hair, perfect boyfriends…..just everything I’ve ever wanted. I tried not to fall down this rabbit hole, but it never worked out.

I would scroll and scroll until I felt physically sick. I would then exit out of instagram and stare at myself in the mirror pointing out everything I hated about myself. My skin oily and acne prone, my hair boring, my eyebrows too thin and light, my lips not big enough, my nose huge, my body disgusting. I hated my body with a burning passion.

Curves are good but not my curves. My curves are considered fat and unattractive.My breasts too big, my stomach not flat…bending over and seeing “rolls” God I fucking hated it. My thighs too big, my ass not fat enough….it's brutal. I'm not sure why it mattered what my body looked like. I also wasn’t sure why I cared so much about what people thought of me. I hated it, and I tried to hide myself away and shelter myself from any mean comments.

I tried not to be in the triplets videos because I saw the way some of these “fans” treated Madi, and that girl is perfect….I could only imagine what they would say about me. They even body shamed Chris and it was insane to me. They talked about it in a video saying that body shaming was disgusting and it doesn’t matter what people look like, we're all humans and all our bodies are different. I agreed, but I couldn’t believe these things about myself.

Chris so badly wanted to film a TikTok with me because we both were wearing the same FreshLove shirt, and black pants, and at first I rejected it, but after some convincing I decided to film it with him. I sucked it up and decided to have fun with my friend.

“Okay let’s do the “she wish there were two of me” trend, and like I’ll say it, and then stick my hand out and you’ll slide into frame and high five me” he said

“I love that trend, let’s do it” I said laughing

He set up his phone and started recording, lip syncing

“Walk in that Bih with with that Loui V” he said, and then looked over at me backing away from the camera

“She say she wish there were two of me” he said backing up and high fiving me as I came into frame

We started dancing, and he slung his arm over my shoulder “she fuckin, she know what she doing, B” We sang laughing and dancing

We finished filming and he posted the TikTok. For once I actually wasn’t scared of him posting me because I genuinely felt cute in my outfit today. My FreshLove shirt was cropped and I had my favorite pair of flare leggings on.

“I finally got you to film with me” he said jumping around

“Yeah that's a one time occurrence” I said laughing

“Oh come onnnn so many people want you in more of our videos” he said looking at me

“Yeahhhh, but I don’t know sometimes your guys fans are a little mean” I said looking down

“Yeah well fuck those haters those aren’t fans” he said scoffing

Later on that night Chris, Matt, Nick and I were in their living room playing board games while some random movie played in the background. We were all having a great time until I got a text message, I looked at my phone to see my best friend texting me

My baby🥹

-Hey babes….Im not sure that you’ve seen the comments under Chris video with you, but they’re disgusting and don’t let that shit get to your head

My heart sank immediately, my breathing getting shallow, my throat constricting and my palms getting sweaty. What the fuck is she talking about….

I opened up TikTok and went to Chris' video opening up the comments….my mouth instantly going dry

-“I know she didn’t crop a FreshLove shirt when she’s fat🤣”

-“I hope Chris isn’t dating her, that's actually sad….he must be desperate😗”

-“Why does she think she’s so hot??? Like what am I missing LMFAOOO”

-“oh that’s not- LMFAOO WHAT IS THIS GIRL DOING”

-“makes sense why she isn’t in the video anymore….she really let herself go”

-“Is that Y/N??? When did she gain so much weight??”

These comments made my stomach churn, and my face burn with embarrassment. The one day I feel cute I’m completely torn apart by these so called “fans”

“Chris you have to take that video down of us” I said looking at him

“What?? Why I love it” he said

“Just take it down” I said

“I love that video too don’t delete it” Nick said

“I don’t want it up” I said avoiding eye contact

Matt pulled out his phone to open the video, he opened the comments and immediately his eyes were saddened

“What the fuck” he said scrolling through the comments

Chris snatched the phone from him reading the comments

“This is fucking disgusting….Y/N don’t believe this shit okay” he said looking at me

“How can I not? These are things I see too, and to have your followers point them out is making me feel disgusting” I said

“None of this shit is true okay” Nick said looking at me

“I just want to be left alone right now” I said standing up

I went down to Chris’ room where I would stay when I spent the night. I laid on his bed. Letting the comments replay in my head. My heart racing and my breathing getting deep……I was starting to have anxiety about the comments and slowly I allowed myself to cry

The tears just flowed like a stream. I tried not to let these comments get to me, but it’s hard when people are judging you on the internet and they don’t even know you. I was letting out choked sobs, trying to cover my mouth to control my sobs. This was so unfair.

I heard the door open, so I figured it was Chris. He shut the door behind him, and sat at the end of the bed as I cried

“I know you don’t want to talk and that’s okay, but I want you to listen to me” he said

“I know it’s hard to not believe what people are saying on the internet, trust me I do, but I want you to know that those comments are from a bunch of children being haters okay. None of that shit is true at all. You’re a beautiful, funny and kind souled person” Chris said

I started to calm down, allowing my tears to stop, and trying to control my breathing.

“You don’t have to change for anyone okay. Stay true to yourself. You are amazing and don’t let these haters behind a screen get to you” he said rubbing my leg

“Thank you Chris” I said in a whisper

“Of course Y/N. I’m always here for you” he said smiling at me

I wiped my eyes and began to sit up

“Follow me” he said getting up, I got up and followed him to his bathroom

“What are you doing?” I asked

He walked into the bathroom and turned the lights on

“You’re going to stand in the mirror and look at yourself, you’re going to point out what you find unattractive about yourself, and I’m going to tell you why they’re beautiful” he said standing behind me, and placing me in front of him

“Chris no…” I said looking at him through the mirror

“I’m not letting you leave till you do it” he said shrugging his shoulders

“Ugh fine” I said looking in the mirror, at my swollen eyes, the tears down my face and my lips swollen

“Let’s start with your hair” he said

“I hate it…..it’s boring it’s flat it’s ugly” I said

“Wrong! It’s beautiful. It’s long and shiny and you take the best care of it. It always smells so good” he said looking at me

I just looked at him blushing slightly

“Go on” he said nodding his head

“My eyebrows…they’re so thin and light….and my eyes the color is ugly” I said

“Wrong again! Your eyebrows shape your face beautifully, and your eyes are gorgeous. The way the sun hits them and they sparkle, and the way your lashes are so long and showcase your eyes beauty” he responded

“Do we have to keep going?” I said blushing

“Yes you must” he said

“I hate my lips they aren’t big enough, and I hate my teeth and my smile” I said

“Your lips are pretty. Always glossed, always plump and full. And your teeth….your smile is my favorite thing” he said

“Are you flirting with me?” I said

“I may be” he said giving me a sly smirk

I started to smile and roll my eyes

“Look at that beautiful smile” he said pointing at me

“Chris shut up” I said giggling

“Keep going” he said nodding

“Uhh I hate my boobs they’re too big” I said avoiding eye contact

“Umm I’m going to be careful with my words here, but uhh a real man will never complain about big tits, and I happen to be a real man” he said looking at me making a funny face

“I like how you say you’re going to be careful with your words, and then say some crazy ass shit” I said laughing

“I meannnn I could say something way worse, but I’ll keep that for another time” he said winking

I rolled my eyes at him

“I hate my stomach” I said fidgeting with my hands

“Remember when we went to that museum, and we saw all those sculptures of Aphrodite and those renaissance women and they all had bigger stomachs. Well there was a reason, bigger women were the beauty standard at one point, and the most powerful beautiful women were on the thicker side. I think a woman with meat on her bones is hot. I mean I love all women, but the thicker the better” he said

I just stared at him in awe as I blushed

“Keep going” he said

“I hate my thighs, and the fact that my ass isn’t as fat as it should be” I said

“Let me tell you something, thick thighs save lives, and I live by that okay. The bigger the thighs the better, and so what if you don’t have this crazy huge ass. Your ass is great. I’ll be vulnerable here…I sneak a look any chance I get” he said throwing his hands up in defense

“You creeper” I said laughing

“I can’t help it. When there’s all this woman in my face I just go dumb” he said looking over my body

“You have a way with words” I said sucking my teeth

“It’s all honesty though. Like I said you’re beautiful inside and out, you’re a kind soul, you’re nice, you’re funny, you’re hot….I mean you’re everything a man could want” he said

He came up behind me wrapping his hands around my waist and squeezing me tight, laying his head on shoulder

“Never let anyone tell you otherwise” he said looking at me through the mirror

“Okay” I said in a whisper

“Now give me that beautiful smile” he said pouting

“Shut up Chris” I said laughing

“There it goes!! My favorite” he said smiling with me

He turned me around and pulled me in tighter

“You’re amazing I can’t stress that enough” he said

“Thank you Chris” I responded pulling away from the hug

“Let me take you on a date” he said looking at me

“Okay, yeah I’d like that” I said getting shy

“Don’t get shy on me now Y/N” he said lifting my head up with his chin

“Lets go out tomorrow” he said looking at me

“Sure Chris” I said smiling

He smiled at me before wrapping his arm over my shoulder pulling me in and kissing my cheek

“Now let’s get back to having some fun” he said as we walked out his bathroom and he shut the light off.

We went back up to the living room where we continued to play games and watch movies. These guys were amazing…especially Chris

The End

Alright guys I hope you liked this one 😚 and I honestly think I’m going to open up my requests because I’m all out of ideas as of rn😭 LOVE YALLLL🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #Spotify

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runningmunson · 1 year

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Hii!! If requests are open could I get an aemond and reader fic where theyre in an arranged marriage and she loves him but doesn't think he loves her back and she gets insecure bcs of what the people at court are saying?? happy ending and a love confession please! Thanks💕

The Life You Dreamed

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: insecurities?, angst to fluff

Masterlist

Falling in love with Aemond was as easy as breathing. He was a gentleman, strong, intelligent, and handsome. Everything you could want in a husband, he possessed. So no, falling for him wasn’t hard.

Continuing to love him, however, was like breathing in the cold morning air- difficult and painful. You could feel your chest tighten every time he resisted your attempts to show him how you loved him. Whether it was the many times he pulled his hand away from yours or when you begged him to join you at night only to wake as the sun rose to find he never went to bed with you. He could be gentle and kind one day, then distant and harsh the next.

Just like your lungs so desperately craved air, you crave to feel Aemond’s love.

It was one of those latter days where he would perform his duty the way he was taught but show no real care towards you. He escorted you, arms linked, into the hall where the royal family was celebrating the name day of Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Your chair was pulled out, and his hand led you to sit next to his mother. Short pleasantries were made before the food was served.

Not long after, the music and dancing commenced. Alicent made her way around to greet all the Lords and Ladies who came to celebrate. Aegon, who was already drunk before the event started, had surprisingly dragged Helaena to the dance floor. That left you and your husband alone at the table. He had barely even said more than a few words to you since you got there. You had hoped he would ask you to dance, but you were not so lucky.

You felt the disappointment creep in as you watched the happy faces of those dancing in front of you. How you only wished to feel Aemond’s arms around you as you danced around the room, to have a taste of the joy these people must have felt.

You were drawn out of your thoughts to find Lord Tully standing in front of you. You figured he was there to talk to Aemond but left shocked when he held his hand out and asked for you to dance. You turned your head to see Aemond’s reaction and saw nothing but his typical neutral exterior, so you stood and walked around the table to accept his request.

“I would be happy to dance with you, Lord Tully,” you smiled brightly at him. He led you to the dance floor and placed one hand on your waist while the other grabbed your hand. You spun around the room together, laughing at one another's jokes and enjoying each other's company.

It wasn’t often that a man seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, so you tried to take advantage of the moment. However, it was hard to ignore the harsh stare of Aemond. If he didn’t like it, then he should have just asked me to dance, you thought.

After a few dances, you grew tired. “I think I am going to sit this one out and grab a drink.”

You walked toward a table that housed the wine and poured yourself a drink. There was a small group of ladies not far from the table. You could hear bits and pieces of their conversation.

“I heard someone spotted the prince leaving a brothel the other night yet again,” Lady Tyrell spoke. This piqued your interest, knowing you liked to hear occasional gossip of the people in the courts. You figured they must be talking about Aegon. It was common knowledge that your brother, by marriage, was not faithful to his wife and often sought comfort in wine and women.

“Maybe that is why her belly has yet to swell with child despite them being wed for some time. The poor girl can't possibly satisfy a real man such as himself,” Lady Tyrell continued, causing the other ladies to giggle.

You were confused at first. Aegon already had children with Helaena, so the only other prince is Aemond. Tears began to form in the corner of your eyes when you realized they were talking about you and your husband. Why would Aemond be visiting a brothel? You no longer felt well and wanted to leave.

Your eyes searched the room for Alicent and found her with Aemond, who was still at the head table. Your feet carried you over there as you tried to force your tears away. “Your grace, I am not feeling well and wish to retire for the night.”

“Of course, dear. I hope you feel well soon,” she pulled you into a hug.

“I shall accompany you then,” Aemond said and stood from his seat.

You shook your head, “That is not necessary, my prince. I do not wish to take you away from your niece and nephew’s party. My handmaiden will attend to me.”

Aemond raised his brow when you called him my prince. You haven't called him that since before you were wed after he requested you call him by his name. He took notice of your shining eyes in the candlelight and your withdrawn posture and knew something was wrong.

“I would still like to accompany you. If we may be excused, mother?” Aemond stood firm, almost begging you to challenge him. You gave in and bowed your head to the queen. He offered you his arm, but you turned away from him and made your way to your chambers, knowing he followed not far behind.

Aemond closed the door once you made it inside. You paced nervously, afraid to confront him about what you heard. He spoke up, “What troubles you?”

“Have you been visiting brothels?” you asked bluntly.

“What?”

“I overheard Lady Tyrell say people have witnessed you leave a brothel. She figures that is why I have yet to bear your children, that you visit those horrible places because I cannot satisfy you,” you could feel your throat tighten as a sob threatened to come out.

Aemond stormed over to you, “That is rich coming from Lady Tyrell, seeing as her Lord husband has fathered several bastard children. And no, I have not been visiting brothels. I have been with no other woman but you since we wed. I am not my brother and truly offended that you think so lowly of me.”

“Then why do we not have children yet? Why do you refuse to bed me most of the time? There has to be some logic for all of this!” you cried out.

“I do not believe this to be the true reason you are upset. What else troubles you so much that you falsely accuse me of something so vile?” Aemond was beginning to get angry at this point. He did not like when his integrity was questioned.

“I mourn, Aemond! I mourn for the life I wish to have,” you said but didn’t look at him. Your red-rimmed eyes were faced toward the window.

“You mean a life without me as your lord Husband?” Aemond stared at you with a clenched jaw, his hands clasped firmly behind his back.

You shook your head, “I think you are mistaken. I mourn for the life I wish to have with you.”

“What do you mean by that?” He questioned.

“Aemond, I desire nothing more than to have a happy and loving marriage with you. I don’t want to question whether I am the only woman you share your bed with. I want to have your children together and grow old with you. It has been difficult for me to come to terms with the fact that it will never happen,” you sighed. Tears flowed free and landed on your cheeks as you let the pain crush your heart once more.

“Why- why would you desire that with me?” Aemond stared at you in shock. He couldn’t believe you possibly wanted a real life with him. You turned to face him.

You walked over to him and placed your hand on his face, slowly running your thumb down his cheek, “I love you, Aemond. I do not know why it is such a surprise that someone other than your family by blood could ever love you. I know I do not have your love, but that is a burden I have to carry alone.”

“Oh, my sweet wife. The only one who is mistaken is you. I have all but yearned to hear these words from your lips, for you to say you feel the way I do,” Aemond felt his anger fade, and relief flooded his body.

“You love me?”

“Yes, I love you. I have from the moment I laid my eyes upon you,” he took hold of your hands.

“But why can you be so cold sometimes? Why is it so hard for you to show me you love me like I have been trying to do to you?” you questioned, wanting nothing more but to understand him.

“I do not know how to show love. I’ve never had an example of what true love should look like and only ever known how my parents treated each other and me and my siblings. But truly, it is no fault but my own, and I am sorry for how I acted. I am so sorry that you have had to question my love for you,” his face turned into a frown, embarrassed at his actions.

He continued, “I want nothing more than the life you dream for us. I want days spent in bed making love to you. I want to dance the night away with you. I want a family with you, to watch our children grow up and have children of their own. I want to spend every day loving you as we grow old together.”

You couldn’t help but cry at his admission, knowing you prayed to the gods every night for this moment. “Do you promise?”

“I swear on my life that I will give you everything you have ever wanted as long as I am by your side,” he wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer, placing his lips on yours. You spent the night dreaming of the rest of your life together.

—

Taglist: @cullenswife , @wrendermeuseless , @darylandbethfanforever9

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #hotd imagine #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen angst

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