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#should take 3 or so months to get through them
ham1lton · 1 day
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summer came like cinnamon (so sweet)
pairing(s): logan sargeant x reader. oscar piastri x reader.
warnings: mentions of mental health, dieting, fractured friendships and constant mention of jim’s ice cream parlour. also different povs, it goes through the minds of all three of the main characters.
summary: after their rookie season, in a bid to repair their friendship, the two drivers decide to take their new paycheques and go explore the sun, sea and sands of greece. what they didn’t anticipate was to bump into you.
wordcount: 5.6k
author’s note: this is my first semi-interactive fic, please give it some love <3 any major issues in travelling and stuff like in terms of logistics? please ignore. also let me know who you’re planning on choosing. team oscar or team logan?
— wanna be updated on the next parts? join my taglist! —
— part one of the summer lovin’ series. —
[ i ain’t a kid no more / we’ll never be those kids again ]
logan didn’t know why he was so overwhelmed with anxiety, when he knocked on oscar’s door on that rainy thursday night.
this was his oscar, the oscar that had practically grown up with him. the one who knew how he liked his toast and that he was fond of a burger with all the extras. that he had a scar on his left ankle from when he was a kid and wrestled with his brother after watching too much wwe.
ever since he had signed to williams and oscar had been a mclaren driver, they had hardly talked in comparison to their pre-formula one days. when he had crashed out during a race, he half expected oscar to text him or come knocking on his hotel door.
he didn’t. logan pretended he wasn’t surprised.
fuck it. bite the bullet. he lifted his hand high and knocked on the door. three quick taps in succession.
“one moment!” oscar called from inside. logan would wait, even if that old lady from room 135 kept looking at him like he was an intruder. maybe he was. he hadn’t been in oscar’s room for a while.
oscar opened the door with messy hair and a shirt that had been clearly shoved on before he opened the door.
“logan? hi.” oscar swallowed. the awkwardness in the space between the two of them felt heavy. “you okay mate?”
“yeah! yeah.” logan fake laughed, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. “just wanted to come see you.”
“i’m here.” oscar grinned, with no teeth, at his own joke. “wanna come in?”
“sure. kinda awkward talking in the hallway anyways. that old lady is about five minutes from calling the cops on me.”
“oh that’s just brenda.” oscar said after leaning out and getting a glance at the woman, who waved at him. he waved back. “she’s harmless.”
logan followed oscar into his room. it was bigger than his and he didn’t know if feeling jealous was appropriate. he had felt many emotions when it came to oscar; happy, sad, angry, and others. he didn’t want jealousy to join the list.
“sorry, my room is a mess. i wasn’t expecting company.” oscar laughed with no heart behind it as he sat down on his unmade bed. “take a seat logan, you’re giving me anxiety just standing around.”
logan immediately sits down on the desk chair.
“so, what are your plans for the summer?”
“mine?” oscar thinks to himself. “probably just to go see my family and my friends back home.”
“i was thinking maybe we could, i don’t know.” logan bites his lip anxiously. “do something together?”
“like what?” oscar is curious now, his eyes focused.
“maybe go on that european holiday we always talked about? we have the money now and no parents to tell us no like last time.” logan speaks in a rush. “but obviously if you say no, dude that’s totally fine.”
logan looks at oscar, who’s actually considering it? he thinks to himself for a moment before turning to logan.
“how many days?”
“as long as you’d like.”
“where would we go?”
“anywhere you’d want.”
“make a decision, logan. i’ll say yes or no.”
“we always wanted to go to greece? how about there? maybe for three weeks?”
“we should go for a month. we can travel.”
wait. so that means? oscar’s face is still impassive. he doesn’t say yes or no, but he is still considering it. that’s a positive.
“that’s fine. i’m flexible.”
“i’ll plan it.” oscar nods.
“so is that a yes?”
“obviously.” oscar finally smiles, open and dazzling. logan grins too, allowing himself to bask in the approval. he was almost 67% sure that oscar would say no. he’d already done the maths, but it wasn’t his strongest subject anyways.
“i’ll text you the details.” oscar nods and logan gets up, running a hand through his hair. giddy with happiness that he’ll finally win his best friend back. this’ll be the trip that heals them. that heals him.
-❀-
oscar gets stressed when he’s not in charge. everything has to go through him. the plans, the schedule and especially the driving. he’s never liked being in the passenger seat. his hands get fidgety and he doesn’t know how to calm them down.
he’s lucky that logan is all too happy to sit in it, his eyes focused on making the perfect road trip playlist. for some reason, they’d decided to drive from london all the way down to munich.
they’d already driven down from london and through the eurotunnel and took a break sightseeing in france - which oscar had already scheduled for. they ate their weight in croissants. they ate steak and frites. logan had bought them matching ‘i ♥︎ paris’ t-shirts and oscar rolled his eyes but packed it neatly in his suitcase anyways.
they hadn’t talked about anything other than surface level topics. logan talking about his favourite sports teams, them both discussing the grid and plans for the upcoming season and the usual small talk about their family’s wellbeings.
they didn’t talk about how they ignored each other unless a camera necessitated a conversation. they didn’t talk about logan’s bad season. they stayed up till stupid hours watching badly dubbed french movies and ordering takeout.
they drove to germany, dropped off their rental car and then got a plane from munich to athens. it wasn’t very long at all but logan still curled up against the window and tried to sleep. they were both connected to the spotify account on logan’s phone - logan using his headphones and oscar with his airpods. their road trip playlist still playing.
oscar didn’t know why he didn’t take them out, even when the playlist inevitably repeated itself.
-❀-
they’d been in athens all of two days when they met you. logan had gone an insanely bright red when he’d forgotten his sunscreen had ran out. oscar laughed at first but then ran to the nearest pharmacy to grab emergency sunscreen and aloe vera for the both of them.
after slathering themselves, they’d decided to seek refuge in a small ice cream store. despite the hot weather, the store was almost completely empty besides the two of them and you. you were fiddling with your phone in the corner as you attempted to hook it up to the speakers.
“fuck’s sake!” you shout quietly, frustratingly trying to make it work. “i can’t do this shift without any music. my thoughts’ll drive me insane.”
“um?” oscar breaks the awkward silence. you jump and turn around. the first thing that they both notice is that you’re pretty. really pretty. even in the unflattering oversized neon green work t-shirt.
“sorry! sorry! i apologise. i didn’t think anyone was in the shop. please forgive me.” you look flustered as you move to quickly wash your hands and dry them. “what would you both like today?”
to be honest, logan hadn’t been thinking about the ice cream. oscar didn’t need to think, he was going to get his usual order.
“can i get two scoops of mint chocolate chip?”
“oh that’s disgusting. i forgot that you eat that.” logan shakes his head in shock.
“it’s good. you’re just a hater.” oscar rolls his eyes. “stick to your boring vanilla.”
“it’s a classic!” logan turns to you and asks for two scoops of vanilla and one scoop of mango. you smile and begin to start their orders.
“you guys aren’t from around here, are you?” you ask.
“nah. the accents give it away?” logan laughs as he slings an arm around oscar’s shoulder. oscar rolls his eyes again but makes no move to push him away.
“yeah. a little bit.” you pinch your fingers together as you say it. “i’m not really from here either.”
“no?” oscar replies this time, curious.
“international student. this was one of the few places that’d hire me with my insane schedule. i’m lucky i have the next month off, thankfully.”
“aren’t you going back home?”
“i could if i wasn’t scheduled to work here practically every day for the next month.” you finish logan’s order and move on to oscar’s. you shrug. “and i need the money. the job could be worse really, i just wish the speaker fucking worked and the air conditioning. luckily i stand close to the ice cream.”
“what do you study?”
“archaeology.”
“best place for that is probably here.”
“yes. i don’t know why but ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to come to greece and study here. this is the less glamorous side of it but i’m here doing what i love.”
“that’s all that matters right?” logan chimes in. you nod as you scan their orders into your till.
“that’ll be €7.62.” you say. “cash or card?”
“cash.” oscar says as he pulls out his wallet. he’s infinitely glad he’d prepared and went to the cash exchange in london before he’d left. logan doesn’t even bother to offer, he picks up his ice cream and starts to eat it.
oscar hands you the cash as logan moves to a booth right by the open door to take advantage of the breeze. you count back the change and place it right in his hand. his heart doubles a beat as your hands touch for a moment but the moment is broken as your phone suddenly decides that now is the time to work.
the speakers start blaring natasha bedingfield’s ‘pocketful of sunshine’. you curse, close the till with your hip and turn to fiddle with the playlist.
oscar thinks he’s a little in love.
-❀-
logan knows that oscar likes you, which is a problem because he likes you too.
this road trip was supposed to be about finding themselves, not finding you. yet, when they find themselves back in your ice cream store the next few days, it’s no coincidence.
“you’re back again! the american and australian.” on day four, you’re not alone this time. you have a colleague, a girl who’s slightly older than you. she smirks at the two of them like she knows a secret they don’t know. “i’m not the only international one here!”
the speakers seem to work normally today, playing elton john as you hum along with it. your colleague decides that it’s time to take her lunch break, slipping off her apron and leaving the three of you to it.
“same thing as every day? or are we changing it up?”
“what do you recommend?” logan asks earnestly. he’s not losing oscar to you, maybe if he charms you enough, you’ll pick him. he doubts you will.
“everything is good here but if you really want my opinion? the chocolate fudge is a real crowd pleaser.”
“i’ll take two scoops of that and oscar’ll just have mint chocolate.” logan pulls out his wallet, opens it to find a mix of euros in there. he takes a moment to pick at the right change when you shake your head at him.
“no, it’s fine. it’s on the house today. i’m in a good mood.”
“why?”
“a lot of reasons. you know what? i forgot that i didn’t even introduce myself. i’m y/n.”
“we know.” oscar is amused.
“how? are you psychic? i used to know a psychic once and i also watched that’s so raven. great show.”
“your name badge.” logan nods at your shirt as he eats a spoonful of ice cream. you were right, it’s amazing. not too sickly but just the right amount of chocolate.
“oh.” you bite your lip in embarrassment as oscar takes his ice cream.
“i’m oscar and the american is logan.” logan smiles and waves his free hand at you. “is the shop always this empty?”
“no. it’s really busy after school and at peak times. you just always come quite early. lucky. it’s hell in here when it’s busy.” you seem relieved for the topic change. “you both here on holiday?”
“yeah. a break from our jobs.”
“lucky. my best friend is back home and i wish she was with me. she’s planning on coming up at some point thankfully. i hate being here without all my friends.”
“i can be your friend.” logan says. then he immediately regrets it. what if you think that he’s a weirdo? but when your face lights up, he realises that regret was a fleeting feeling.
“i’d love that. let me take your number. one of the guys from my class is hosting a beach party tonight if you both wanna come.”
logan looks at oscar who shrugs as if to say ‘i don’t mind if you don’t’. logan turns back to you, who is the middle of unlocking your phone and grins.
“we’ll be there.”
he types his number in your phone and sends a message to himself to save yours.
“i’ll text you the details.”
the speaker interrupts the moment that you have as it starts to malfunction. you curse again and throw your hands up in annoyance.
“stupid fucking speaker! so stupid!”
-❀-
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the party is already well underway, when oscar and logan arrive. logan didn’t bother with buttoning up his shirt. he wasn’t necessarily the most confident man in the world but he was comfortable with his nakedness in a way that oscar didn’t think he’d ever be. oscar was in a undershirt with a loose overshirt.
you finally make your way over to them, panting slightly. you’re wearing a plain white bikini with an open oversized orange and yellow patterned hawaiian shirt. your hair is free from the bun they’ve seen you in work with. you smile, easy and happy.
“my two favourite customers!” you sling an arm around the two of them, hugging them so close that they can smell your perfume. “come on, let me introduce you to the five other people i know.”
you lead them down to the bonfire, where three girls and two other guys are crowded around. they cheer when you arrive with the two of them.
“guys, this is oscar and logan.” they wave politely. “oscar and logan, this is anya, jerome, alex, sienna and jaya.”
the group all cheer and welcome the two guys. it’s clear that everyone is already buzzed. oscar has never really been a big drinker so he declines a beer when offered. logan shotguns it, the residue dripping down his face. you laugh and attempt to wipe it off his face. logan goes lax in your touch and oscar can’t watch anymore.
the speaker that someone played is playing shakira as the two of you giggle in your own little world. oscar turns to jerome? or was it alex? and starts a conversation. talking about some footy game that they were watching earlier. oscar is about as into football as the next guy, but he really needs to focus on something else besides the two of you.
oscar knew that logan had always harboured some sort of inferiority complex when it came to the two of them, but logan had something that oscar doesn’t think he’d ever have - being genuinely likeable.
oscar knew he’d have to win because no one would support him as a loser. logan is just likeable regardless of what position he’s in - an underdog if he loses and a force of nature when he wins.
likeable gets the girl.
-❀-
you decide to walk the two of them to the end of the beach. the night is inky black and the only light is the remnants of the bonfire you’d lit earlier. logan is buzzed, oscar is distant and you’re still vibrating from the fact that logan made the two of you run into the cold water with him in the middle of the night.
“tonight was fun! i’m glad you were both able to make it!” you lean in and hug them both goodbye. logan swears you’d lingered a little longer while hugging him. “i’ll see you both at jim’s ice cream?”
“what is that?” logan asks bluntly. oscar elbows him lightly, not hard enough to cause damage but just enough to wind him slightly.
“the ice cream parlour she works at dumbass.” he turns to you. “we’ll see you there”
“well, i do work there. so yeah.” you laugh. all twinkly and bright. then you’re waving and jogging back to your friends. oscar watches logan look at you and sighs.
“come on man, let’s get you back.”
-❀-
logan wakes up with a hangover the next morning. oscar is a good friend and runs to the continental free breakfast and sneaks him out some waffles, croissants and eggs. he walks to the pharmacy again, paying for some ibuprofen (at least he hopes that’s what it is) with his cash and runs to the corner store to grab some extra snacks.
logan’s eyes are wide with both joy and disbelief. joy that something is there for his splitting headache and disbelief that oscar would do that for him. oscar feels a little ball of guilt unravelling inside. how bad had he let their friendship become?
they spend the day inside for the most part. watching television together. then they go outside to the pool, logan immediately jumps in but oscar sits on the side. he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the texts that he’s been ignoring. the ones from some friends, his mum, and you?
it’s not a coincidence right? that you spent the whole evening with logan and text him the next day?
he holds the phone close to his chest. he doesn’t want logan seeing this. he doesn’t know why that is. he quickly texts you back. then logan shouts.
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“hey oscar! come in! the water is gorgeous.”
oscar grins and slips into the water, keeping his shirt on.
-❀-
the two of them end up at the steak restaurant together that night. they’re both dressed as nicely as possible. oscar in a nice sweater and logan in a dress shirt. the maître d’ smiled knowingly at the two of them and led them to their table.
“he thinks we’re together.” oscar whispers to logan.
“are we not?”
“we are in the literal sense. i meant in the romantic, relationship sort of sense.” logan laughs and bats his eyelashes all coy.
“oh no! oscar are you breaking up with me?”
“obviously. i’m leaving you for my secretary.” oscar’s deadpan voice just makes logan laugh harder.
“i knew it, that skank! i’ll get him fired.” oscar laughs too, breaking out into an easy smile that comes easily when logan’s around.
the sounds of the restaurant move around the two of them as they peruse the menu for a long time. it’s been a while with no conversation when oscar bites the bullet and brings it up.
“hey.” logan looks up. “i’m sorry.”
“for the secretary? don’t be. i’m running away with the pool boy.” oscar shakes his head, smiling.
“no.” oscar says. “for what happened. letting our friendship fall to the sidelines. i didn’t mean it but it didn’t excuse it. i really do like being your friend logan. i wouldn’t jeopardise that.”
logan is silent. oscar wonders if he’s crossed some unspoken line. he bites the inside of his cheek and looks at the wall of the restaurant’s decor. it’s all dark in here. would it kill them to buy some light bulbs? he understands its for ‘ambiance’ and that shit but he’s worried that he won’t be able to find his steak in the darkness.
“i was gonna say i was sorry. i thought it was my fault. that you didn’t want to be friends with,” he cuts himself off, laughing awkwardly. “a loser.”
“no. that wasn’t it. you’re not a loser, not to me.”
“i am. that’s a fact. it’s okay. you’re very nice for that but, it’s just not true.” logan swallows thickly. “now, should i get potatoes or fries as my sides?”
oscar doesn’t comment on logan’s facial expression, that he looks like he’s holding it together by a thread. he knew emotional vulnerability took a lot out of him but it was harder on the person who admitted failure.
“potatoes.” logan grins and nods before calling over the waiter.
-❀-
the next time you saw the two guys was two days after the bonfire party. they came in laughing at a joke that had happened way before they had even walked in. you find yourself standing up as soon as they enter.
“hi! y/n!” logan’s smile is always wide and happy to see you. oscar’s smile is muted but it’s still sweet. “what would you recommend for me? i liked the chocolate fudge.”
“hmm,” you think, running your hand along the counter. “we have a new flavour, chocolate covered raspberry? it’s quite popular. i think you’d like it.”
“i trust your judgement, ice cream girl.”
you crack a smile at the nickname, the smile so big that it momentarily hurts your face for a moment. you turn to oscar.
“and what about you?”
“same as usual, two scoops of vanilla.”
you nod, getting to work on the ice creams. you even offer to pay for them but they argue, threatening to shove it all in the tip jar anyway. oscar pays and when your back is turned, logan shoves twice the amount into the tip jar.
“wanna sit with us in the booth today y/n?” logan asks, taking a spoonful of his ice cream. “it’s not like anyones here.”
oscar looks up at you with his wide eyes, not really eating his ice cream. he just swirls it, until it turns into a sort of thick soup. you shrug and slide into the booth across from the two of them. you don’t have anything else to do and if a customer does decide to walk in? well, you’ll just slide back behind the counter.
“so, what’s your plan for the future?” logan grins. “and i know it’s the worst possible question to ask any young person but i’m curious. what’s the goal? is there one? it’s okay if there isn’t.”
“dream is to become an archeologist and backup plan? i don’t know. work in an office or something? maybe teaching. i haven’t thought that far ahead just yet.” you bite your lip and look out the window for a second. the day is hot, and you’re stuck inside. “what about you two? what do you do?”
“we uh, we drive.” logan looks at oscar.
“oh like uber? cool.”
“yeah, isn’t it?” oscar smiles at you.
“i still haven’t gotten my licence just yet. taxis aren’t too expensive and public transport is decent. also everywhere i need to be is pretty much walkable.” you smile at them. “have you visited all the touristy places yet?”
“not everywhere but we’re here for a while. we’re going to travel to santorini, mykonos and corfu. i’ve already planned them out.” oscar swallows his bite of ice cream. “scheduled to the exact moment we get there and get back.”
“an exotic european vacation.” you grin, waggling your eyebrows. logan laughs despite the joke not being very funny. “i’m jealous.”
“you could come with us.” oscar blurts out, his cheeks pinkening. “you’re probably busy though right? don’t worry about it. it’s weird.”
“no, no. it’s not. it’s very sweet and tempting.” you look outside the window again. “i’m not free for the whole time, but, definitely i could join you for a week? jim won’t care.”
“jim’s a real person?” logan asks, eyes wide. you laugh.
“yeah! he’s british actually. came over here when he retired and bought this place. he was one of the few people that’d hire me. my mum’s british.” you nod. “it’s a pretty decent job. if you ignore these hideous uniforms.”
you pull on the neon jim’s ice cream parlour shirt, face crumpling in disgust.
“you look good.” logan says, shyly, as he tongues the last of his ice cream. “this is good too. the ice cream. i knew i trusted you for a reason.”
-❀-
santorini is exactly like the instagram photos. well, despite being slightly too hot, a little less vibrant and he’s here with you and logan. logan has kept his shirt on this time, a loose linen blue one with a pair of shorts and flip flops. you’re dressed in a white skirt, a cropped tank top with a massive handbag.
oscar wants to do something crazy, like reach out and hold your hand or put his arm around your shoulders. he doesn’t because he’s not insane but he thinks about it for a solid moment. thinks about the way you’d curl into him or the way your shampoo would smell. he shakes his head.
“you don’t like it?” the two of you turn to look at him. fantastic. now he looks weird. his eyes widen.
“no, no! i love it. it’s lovely.” he reaches into his pocket, shaking hands grabbing his phone as he takes a picture. “i was thinking about the best angle to take this picture for my mum.”
“i’ll take a photo of you against the backdrop? maybe the both of you. your mum might like that. logan said you two were childhood best friends right?”
oscar nods. at least you bought his story. he stands against the barrier and smiles, awkwardly. he’s sure that all the other tourists are looking at him and thinking ‘what a weirdo, his crush on her is so obvious. she wants his best friend clearly, why even try?’
after a moment, logan stands next to him. logan dissipates the awkwardness with a wave of his hand and the two of them fall into an easy grin. when logan leans in and tells a joke, oscar finds himself laughing loudly with the click of your camera as background noise.
he sends it to his mother later on, when he’s in his hotel room with logan snoring in the room across from him. she texts him back quickly.
-❀-
— from mum.
well, it looks like you’re having fun honey!
— to mum.
yeah, i am.
-❀-
it doesn’t even feel like a lie when he messages her back in the cooling heat.
-❀-
it’s three days into the trip and two weeks into knowing the guys that you realise that you have a crush. it’s only a small inkling but you know it’s serious because no matter how much you try to dissuade it, it keeps popping up.
when you’re eating, when you’re brushing your teeth and even when you’re picking your outfit with him in mind. does he like blue? is he more of a yellow guy? or is it pink that’ll catch his eye?
the three of you head to a restaurant that night. it’s a seafood place, the three of you laughing and joking about something you’d seen earlier. they look good. smell good too. they even argue over who’s going to pay for the meal and look at you like you’ve got three heads when you offer to pay.
“it’s fine y/n, you’re a student.” oscar says, smiling as logan gives up. he pays quickly, all cash with no fuss. “we can get it.”
“ubering must make you a lot of money.”
“yeah. something like that.” he smiles again. this time with no teeth as he gets the receipt.
-❀-
logan goes to bed early that night, citing something about his family being desperate to check up on him. it leaves just the two of you outside in the corfu evening air.
“want to go for a walk?” you ask, looking at him earnestly.
“yeah. sure.” he’s trying not to be too eager. not to scare you off. the two of you start walking down the street.
“i always like to go for a slow walk after a big dinner. i feel like it probably helps with digestion.” you speak quietly, as if not to disturb the silence of the street. he likes your voice and is willing to listen at any volume you decide.
“i think it does. i try not to eat too much.” oscar responds, shoving a jittery hand in his pocket. “i can’t gain any weight for my job.”
“yeah, logan said. that’s weird. what kind of uber driver has a weight limit?” he shrugs and smiles. “do you miss australia?”
“sometimes. i’m used to travelling though. i’ve done it for so long.” he looks at you. “what about you? do you miss your home?”
“eh, i wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. i wanted to remake myself. i was gonna do it all y’know? a name change and everything.” you look up at the stars for a moment. “i didn’t go through with it. even if i changed my name, i’d still be y/n really. inside.”
“i get that. i think.” oscar looks at the gorgeous landscape in front of him. he ignores all the people milling around the two of you. to him it’s just you, him and the view. “so, y/n-“
your phone interrupts him. a loud, obnoxious ringing noise. you mouth an apology at him when you look at the caller id.
“sorry, it’s my best friend. she wouldn’t call me if it wasn’t important. she’s more of a texter anyways. do you mind?” you point at your phone. he shakes his head with a smile. you disappear to take your call and he finds a bench to sit on. he leans back, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
what was he thinking? asking you out? thank god the world or fate or god or whoever is in charge, stopped him before he made the biggest mistake of his life. you liked logan and he didn’t blame you. he really, truly didn’t.
when you come back, you ask him what he was going to ask. he shrugs. it wasn’t important anyways, he says. he asks what happened with your friend and listens you chatter all the way back about your friend’s current work drama.
-❀-
the next morning, logan and you head down to breakfast together. it’s a continental breakfast that the hotel offer. it’s good, with a wide spread of toast, pancakes, omelettes, cereal, fruit and sausages. you load up your plate, happy to get food for free even though technically you paid for it.
logan’s plate is smaller. you think about what they said earlier about weight limits and feel a pang of sympathy. i mean, your job was not very well paid but at least it gave you freedom in your spare time to do and eat whatever you want.
“is oscar not coming?” you ask, forking a fluffy piece of omelette and hash browns in your mouth. it’s gorgeous and you’re hungry.
“nah. he’s not feeling too good. i’ll bring him some breakfast in a bit.” logan methodically goes through his breakfast. slow, small bites and chews it for as long as possible. “wanna go for a swim later? it’s hot as hell outside. i feel my skin melting off.”
“you are going a little red.” you tease. he smiles again, shyly. his face does go red when you lean forward and press your cold cup against his cheek. “a little better?”
“it’d be better if you’d go swimming with me.” he smiles.
“of course i will. can’t leave you by yourself. who knows what’ll happen.” he laughs this time. “now wanna try some of this omelette?”
he sits politely as you lean over and feed him a forkful of the spinach and cheese omelette. for a moment, the two of you look into each other's eyes as you feed him. he turns away as soon as it’s okay and chews the bite.
“good?”
“yeah. yeah. it’s good.” he smiles at you. “let me just get some more water for us, be back in a moment.”
“is it getting too hot for you?” you tease.
“a little.” he sheepishly grins again. “let me cool down.”
-❀-
it’s your last day with the two of the guys before they drop you back off at the bus stop to go back to athens. your heart is still pinching at the thought of leaving, but you decide your last day can’t be in vain. they’ll be going home soon so it’ll be the best time to admit what you already knew. what you had known for the whole time.
you’d been on the phone with your best friend who had helped you to write a pros and cons list.
— pros - you could be a girlfriend to a great guy. you would be happy. you would have a rich boyfriend (your bff added that). you could touch them in any way they’d let you. you could sleep together. you could also sleep together (bff again). you would have a great time. you would have fun. would it improve your life? potentially.
— cons - they could say no and you’d have to jump off a cliff. they could be dating each other and you’d be embarrassed that you didn’t figure it out. they could laugh at you. they could be disgusted. they could be nice about it and gently let you down. they’re not even from anywhere close to greece. it’d be a long distance relationship. could you even deal with that?
you shake your head and lift your hand up to his bedroom door. the wood is cold under your knuckles. the world still moves around you, tourists laughing in their rooms and people walking around. their voices murmuring.
as your hand hovered there, you thought for a moment. about how this could change everything. was it too soon? too risky? then you remembered, it’s now or never.
take the plunge and with that, you knock.
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liked by anyaaaa, alexjohnson and 183 others.
yourusername: this summer is going well. made two new friends, spent half of my savings and made some new memories and isn’t that what life is all about?
anyaaaa: when are you coming back? miss u girl!!
-> yourusername: soon! i just need to figure something out first.
-> anyaaaa: you’ll figure it out. you always do. can’t wait till you come back <33
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taglist: @decafmickey @nichmeddar @casperlikej @purplephantomwolf @cuteskz @booksandflowrs @mxdi0 @alexmarie29 @luckyladycreator2 @23victoria @molten-m122 @evie-119 (want to be removed? or wondering why you weren’t tagged? check your tag settings or send me an ask!)
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mxtantrights · 3 days
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Hi! Can i ask some quick enemies to lovers with Jason Todd? Which is not much "enemies" but two prideful people that won't admit they have feelings for each other and they like... have similar personalities. It can be sfw or nsfw, it's up to you <3
Byee, thanks.
(Maybe reader also being a vigilante too hehe)
a/n: thank you for this amazing request. I was about to have so much fun with this!!! (also kinda left it open so if there is a desire for part two, just leave me a message!! <3)
It doesn't hit either of you like a brick wall or a train like it should. No. Because why would it? Love doesn't hit you over the head in the middle of the night. It happens slowly.
It happens when Oliver asks you to cut home early because you almost missed a step and went over the rooftop of a building. Which you deny but you know it happened because Oliver is never really one to say 'go home'. So you take his orders. Oliver shakes his head as he watches you go. Ever since he told you that some of the team from Gotham was coming to Star City to help a case you've ben off your game.
It happens when Jason doesn't see the trip wire. Dick has about seven seconds to clear the room and drag Jason with him. The two of them get safely away from the loud bomb. Bruce is talking over the comms, asking if everything is alright. Jason grumbles out some sort of response. Dick knows he's not on his A-game because he's part of the crew going to Star City, where you operate.
It happens when you come face to face with Red hood after not seeing him for a few months. The last time you saw him he saved you from a round of gunfire. You couldn't figure out if he saved you because it was the right thing to do or for some other reason.
It happens when the two of you have to guard a safe house for a couple of hours. There is nothing to do. It's mindless boredom. It's endless. It's so boring and Red doesn't make it easier because he doesn't try to converse with you either. You try to make small talk but he seems to talk in grunts or just silence.
It happens when the mission goes wrong. The informant is nipped on someone else's patrol. You and Red are called in to figure out who did it and to track their every move. You spend about eight hours by his side and say about ten words to him.
It happens when you two find the culprit and are faced with a difficult decision. Take justice into your own hands or hand them over to the Oliver and Bruce. Red leaves it up to you.
And for some odd reason, that's when you realize it. At that moment it dawns on you. Like the final crumb of sand falling in a hourglass. You like Red. You like him even if he doesn't speak a word to you, or if you fail and fumble in front of him.
You try your best to keep it to yourself.
But it's hard to do that when he seems, different.
After that night when he left the choice up to you, he seems to be another version of himself. A version you didn't know existed. He greets you, he tries to make small talk, and he gives you compliments and praise.
Oliver and Bruce notice it too. They keep their smiles and shit eating grins to themselves. Honestly the two of them honestly make this a thing amongst themselves. Who can get the ball rolling first?
Bruce asks Jason about it one night after patrol. To which Jason replies with a stern 'no' and nothing else. Oliver asks you when he takes you out for lunch and you also tell him a simple 'no' and move on.
It keeps happening like this. Red does something that makes you think maybe, sort of, possibly. But you don't take that step. And Red goes through the same thing about you. And talks himself out of telling you anything.
One day though, it does come to an end.
You're in an alley in Gotham. You're not on a mission. You're just a civilian in this situation. A civilian who wants to take an alleyway cut instead of walking two blocks. It's safe to say that when you get held up at gun point you regret not walking those two simple blocks.
What goes down, goes down fast. You manage to get the jump on two of the scumbags. But one of them does have a gun. They aim it right at you and the shot should hit you but it doesn't. It doesn't because of someone.
Red hood stands between you and the gun. The bullet flies off his patted amor chest. You watch as all the guys in the alleyway scurry like rats. You're left there, wide eyed and shocked.
Red Hood turns to you and offers you a hand up. You take it, and try to think of something to say. Anything. A thank you. A sorry. Something that should leave your mouth. But all you can think about is how he's saved your life again.
And that's the word you say. 'again'
It catches him off guard. So much so that he takes a step back. You think you might've said the wrong thing. But then again, you think to yourself that he won't really know what you're talking about. You're seeing him as a civilian. He's never seen you as a civilian. He doesn't know who you are.
But he could now.
He could now.
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galoogamelady · 1 day
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I got an Xbox for my birthday a month ago and I recently downloaded Fallout 4 (totally not bc of Buttons..) and I wondered if there’s a specific order to play them? If so, which one should I play first? :}
Depends on how deep you want to get into it, I guess? If they're available on Xbox and you are up for the original turn-based games, I would start with that. Don't let anyone tell you that they're unenjoyable, I played through the original Fallout in 2020 and had a BLAST! So in that case I would go Fallout -> Fallout 2 (I still gotta play this but I keep putting it off because I know I'll be too into it) -> Fallout 3 -> Fallout New Vegas (still gotta finish this myself, might just start over) -> Fallout 4 The latter 3 also have DLC-s you should get, especially for Fo3 and NV.
I've seen people recommend new fans to start with Fo4 and work their way back, I'm not sure why... Playing Fo3 right after Skyrim really showed its age, and the difference is even larger between Fo3 and Fo4. I think it's easier to start with the less intuitive titles and better to start with the original vision but I understand turn-based stuff is not everyone's cup of tea (no I don't, look at how successful Baldur's Gate 3 is and Act 3 was a PILE OF BUGS!). There's also Fallout Tactics as part of the old games but ehh I think it's one of those titles most fans don't count as canon. (Except my ex, who for some reason? thought it was the best shit) And we don't talk about Fallout Brotherhood of Steel. I think you couldn't play that one even if you wanted to, probably for the best. I can't say I recommend Fallout 76, perhaps if you don't have more Fallout content left to consume and you don't mind nonsense lore stuff and just want to hang out with your friends. I have it but I can't say it brings me more joy than idk... Rust. It's just surface level Fallout for me.
This is just my personal take obviously, feel free to ask other fans.
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scientia-rex · 2 days
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I got home from work today sneezing my head off with a right eye that won’t stop watering, took a hot shower, climbed into bed, and I haven’t climbed out since. I’m grumpy and I have a headache and if I’m not testing positive for COVID or debilitated by symptoms tomorrow I’ll still need to go to work because that’s twenty patient visits that would need to be rescheduled, usually with someone else, and that’s twenty people I’m letting down. Today I did one of my patented 45-second Pap smears (if it takes longer than that, your doctor needs to get better!) for someone with vaginal atrophy from menopause (it is both very common and very treatable) and she was in disbelief. (This time it was more like 30 seconds.) I saw a suicidally depressed patient who’s clinging to life with both hands and I changed their meds last week and I am not making them wait to see me. I cleaned a wound no one else gave a shit about and I saw a bitter pissy Republican Party bigwig who has terrible anxiety and depression she doesn’t tell anyone about, who’s alienated everyone but who I can still convince to try treatment.
I do my job on hard mode on purpose. I like being important—who doesn’t? I like being legendary, I like that when people move to town and ask for doctor recommendations on Facebook so many people mention me that other patients feel compelled to tell me about it. I got nominated for best doctor in our local region last year. (I didn’t win, out of 5 nominees.) But when I’m sick, when I’m the kind of sick that can be hidden easily, the kind of sick I was always expected to go to school and rotations and residency with, it’s so hard. I hate exposing patients, even to a cold, but the benefits of receiving care are probably enough to outweigh the chance of transmission. I wrestle with myself: if I call in, it starts a ripple effect. Can they get a per diem from their “pool” (of three) to come in? Can they reschedule my patients with me? I don’t have any open spots for five weeks. Can they open same days? None available for three weeks. Can they open blocked spots? That’s going to make my life hell when I come back from being sick. That’s clinic staff calling twenty patients, trying to reach them. That’s twenty patients who feel abandoned. They can know intellectually that doctors get sick too, but they don’t believe it. They take it personally. I have seen this over and over again, until I had to believe it.
It is so EASY for people who don’t do this job to tell me how I’m doing it wrong. “Just stay home!” Oh, okay, you want to tell the person whose chronic opioids I’m supposed to write for that I can’t? You want to put the nurses through getting the on-call to write a bridge prescription? I write more ADHD meds than most of my peers—usually a lot more. You want to tell my colleagues to write meds they’re uncomfortable with? How about tell my suicidal patients (which is a lot of them!) that the provider they know and trust after months or years will be replaced today by a 70-year-old white man who still thinks they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps? Tell my queer patients that they have to wait until I’m better and back to get their hormones and their STI screenings, reschedule a Pap someone was dreading. Every day is a kaleidoscope of opportunities to make a real connection with “difficult” patients. I’m good at it. I may be the best at it at my clinic.
I don’t hate calling in sick just because the clinic manager is a judgy bitch, though that doesn’t help. I hate it because of what it does to my patients. And it’s not simple. Pretending it is does all of us a disservice. I am not a widget. I am not easily replaceable. You can’t plug any of our per diems (all men, 2/3 white, 2/3 old, 1/3 a Bitcoin bro) into my place and call it an equivalent, and my schedule is already so packed that if I call in sick, patients will be guilt-tripping me about it for months. I’m not kidding. That happens every single time.
Christ alive, I wish it was true that doctors never got sick.
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aezuria · 22 hours
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*ੈ✎ you know i'm such a fool, for you
—linger; the cranberries
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content: leo valdez x daughter of aphrodite! reader
╰┈▸ back cover: part I | part II | part III
╰┈▸ warnings: cursing.. are we surprised tho, also drew is not a stuck up bitch because rick totally mischaracterized her IDC IF HES THE AUTHOR she just gives mean older sister who secretly thinks ur alright okay???
librarian's annotations: long awaited part 3 guys + tagging the moots that i think were waiting ! @hopelesslyromanticshark @s1utlvr @crownofgildedlilies @pinkdiorluvr
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"so... how are we gonna break it to him?"
jason looked up from his book, his glasses sliding back up his nose. "break what to who?"
"you know.. break it to leo that y/n might not like him?" percy gestured, before throwing his turtle plushie up like a ball.
frank blinked owlishly at him. "what gave you that idea?"
the other boy caught the plushie and paused. "what do you mean?"
"isn't it super obvious that they both like each other and are mutually pining over each other?" jason closed his book. "like, i didn't see it at first, but it was so obvious after leo finally followed her."
"she does? wait, so i wasn't actually lying to leo when i was hyping him up?" percy sat up, his face brightened at knowing that he was guilt-free.
"well, i wouldn't say you weren't lying-" frank started before the door slammed open.
"are you guys having a gossip session? without me?" leo appeared in the doorway of poseidon's cabin, an utterly aghast expression on his face. "um, what the actual flip?"
"there is no way you just said that."
"i was using it ironically!"
alldaladiesluvleo shared a note "having a gossip session without me is a new low i hate ALL OF YOU FOR REALS THIS TIME" ╰┈▸ loveloveyn replied to your note "STOP WHY DID MY FRIENDS LITERALLY DO THE SAME THING"
leo went back to his bunker after frank had shoved him back out the door. he was taking a much needed phone break after working on another contraption he had yet to finish. "holy shit!" leo almost dropped the phone on his face after getting the notification. oh my gods, she just texted me! play it cool! but playing it cool was not wired into his brain.
‎‏alldaladiesluvleo ‏‏does that mean were matching rn ‎‏‏‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎loveloveyn‏‎ omg i think so
you sent the message before you could think about it. wait, wait wait. does that count as flirting? that's gotta count as flirting, right? a giddy smile spread across your face as you rolled over in bed. the "group meeting" annabeth had shooed you away from was quickly forgotten, replaced by your current conversation with leo.
loveloveyn ‏‏so like if ur friends left u and MY friends left me.. alldaladiesluvleo ..we should totally ditch them and hang out tgt‎‏‏‎?? loveloveyn ‏‏YESS
we're actually gonna hang out! leo sat up in shock. was it that easy!? he started to regret the months of longing glances and waiting around for nothing. was i was too forward? i wasn't, right? she used all caps and an extra letter at the end so that must mean she wants to hang out too, right? yeah! without his designated hypeman, he had to go and hype himself up.
alldaldiesluvleo going to ur cabin rn
"what the fuck!?" you rolled out of bed in a panic and tripped on the mess of clothes you had yet to put into your wardrobe. you muttered another curse and hauled yourself up to look in the mirror. the sight before you was not one to behold; your bedhead was crazy, your camp half-blood shirt was wrinkled, and your makeup was smudged from your unplanned nap.
you took a brush and combed it through your hair, trying to get the knots out as quick as humanely possible. drew watched your fix-up frenzy from her perch, legs swinging over her bunk. "someone's got a date!" she smirked. "you look disgusting. need some help?"
"don't think there's any time," you grumbled, trying clean up your smudged mascara and smooth out your shirt. "now do i look like i didn't just get out of bed?" you spun around in a slow circle under her watchful eye.
she shrugged at your stunning presentation. "you look as good as you can get? now go and have fun with your ugly boyfriend." drew hopped off her bunk and pushed you to the door.
"he's not ugly! and he's not my boyfriend!"
"yet!"
drewtanakax shared a note "hate couples praying on their downfall rn (JUST DATE ALREADY)"
"hey," leo waved as he reached the cabin. you were just about to flip drew off when you caught sight of him.
"hey!" you waved back, already feeling the nervousness creep up on you. shit, i didn't think this through! what if he thinks i'm weird for acting like we were already friends?
"so." leo's voice broke you out of your thoughts. "shitty friends we have, huh?"
"totally," you nodded. "like, that was just so unbelievably rude. after all we've done, too." you put a hand over your heart dramatically.
"exactly! i thought they were like, my best friends. where am i ever gonna find a replacement?" he gave you a pointed look, his eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for you to say something.
you took the hint and grinned. "hey! i could be your new bestie!"
"really!? you're a lifesaver!" in a spur of the moment, leo took your hands in his and jumped up and down.
you laughed and jumped along with him, caught up in his enthusiasm.
"that means.." leo stopped bouncing, a mock serious expression on his face. "we have to show them what they're missing by having the most fun day ever!"
"yeah!"
drewtanakax shared a story caught these bitches frolicking in the fields can they go die
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you replied to their story stop being such a hater this is why u dont have a gf
alldaladiesluvleo tagged you in a post hanging out w my newer, cooler, AWESOMER bestie WITHOUT U GUYS
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herseaweedbrain WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS LEO jasongrace is this what a hard launch is? frankzhangnotocean does this mean ur gonna shut up now
loveloveyn tagged you in a post notice the good time im having with my super cool and better bestie INSTEAD OF YOU FAKES
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thepiedpiper WHERE THE FUCK DID THIS COME FROM hiswisegirl is this where youve been all day?? ditching us for a MAN tell me everything rn hazyhazel omg! are you guys dating now?
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librarian's annotations: sooo i wanted to make this the last one but i feel like it would be moving too fast if i made them FR get tgt in this one so (next one will probably be short cause im running out of ideas HELP ME)
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ohcorny · 1 day
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hey! i was wondering if you'd be willing to break down what your schedule was like working on the graphic novels you've been doing? like, how much time did it take and how much/what were you working on per day?
shore, so first book was a bit loosey goosey because it was my first time ever working on a tightly dictated schedule other than like. an anthology. and i hadn't figured out my exact rhythm. plus i was still working on NS at the same time for a big chunk of it, so i can't say i was firing on all cylinders.
anyway. the first book is 264 pages long. i started thumbnailing it on 4/18/2022, and turned my thumbnails in for review on 8/23/22, so it took me about 4 months start to finish to script and thumbnail (because i do those at the same time) the book. i honestly don't know how many i did in a day or how many days i worked a week because of some calculator fudging to make it give me accurate deadlines every time i finished a piece early. right now, as i thumbnail book 2, i'm holding myself to 4 thumbnails a day, 4 days a week (so a weekly quota of 16) and i've been keeping up with that fairly well.
i super don't know how long penciling actually took me because it looks like i didn't record the real start date. i remember it took longer to start them than i liked because the thumbnails took a long time to get reviewed, but it worked out fine. for pencils, i held myself to 3 pages a day, 4 days a week. i think this may have been when i started the 4 day work week and i have not gone back since. i finished pencilling 2/24/23.
inks and colors were done simultaneously. for the most part in this book, i don't ink backgrounds, they get done during the color phase. so i would ink 3 pages every day for a week, then color 3 pages every day for a week. and then about 3/4 of the way through the book i realized i enjoyed myself a lot more if i mixed it up, so i switched to inking and coloring whatever i felt like, so long as 3 things got done a day (so, ink color color, or color ink ink, whatever). i finished the book, not counting cover and extra material, on 1/25/24.
which was so far ahead of the original june 2024 deadline that its release date got bumped up to next february. originally it was going to release on my birthday. a tragic loss.
i took all of february off from comic work (and spent the entire thing doing like. 37 commissions. no i don't know how to take real breaks) and started thumbnailing book 2 on march 4th. as of today i'll have thumbnailed 123 pages. basically halfway there!
edit: i should also note i'm like. horrifically fast. ask anybody who also does comics or has worked with me and they'll tell you i'm a freak of nature. do not hold me up as any sort of standard and always ask for as much time as you can get.
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Text
Buck & Eddie: Buddie Endgame!
Before 7x5 aired, I decided to take a break from 911blr and Buddieblr since the BTS pics and the "supposed leaks" for 7x5 showed they were about to do another wash, rinse and repeat with both Buck and Eddie. Their storylines have been seen before and at this point, they've become predictable. Anyway, I'm glad I took several days off because I figured most of the people who watched it would see Buck on a date with T*mmy and it would prompt them to start "Jumping ship" (Eddie’s words from 7x4) even though the whole situation was rushed and there's no substance there. If people did jump ship, they have every right to do so but just in case they're new here and they haven't watched all of Buck's train wreck relationships starting in season 1, the facts are Buck is making the same mistakes he's made in the past even though in 6x1, he said he didn't want to do that anymore.
Here's the thing... I'm not trying to convince anyone about who they should and shouldn't ship because everyone has their own preferences. However, I do think it's interesting how some are choosing to forget or just don't want to acknowledge/admit the fact that T*mmy did the same thing to Buck that both Taylor and Natalia did but it didn't take him multiple episodes to do it either.
Here are the cycles...
WASH: He showed up to the loft UNANNOUNCED.
RINSE: He kissed him.
REPEAT: And then he left him standing there dazed just like they did.
BONUS SPIN CYCLE: He told Buck to "Take care of yourself" (he just said it before he showed up unannounced and he said it while they were at Air Rescue when he was trying to date Eddie 👀).
Therefore, it appears the only difference between T*mmy and Taylor and Natalia is, T*mmy's a man which seems to be the only reason why some are willing to look past his bad character traits (discussed here) based solely on that fact. He's just like Buck's previous relationships where it starts off with Buck being kissed like he's in some kind of fairy tale or some BS and then it follows the same pattern as before (as indicated above).
I'm not going to go into the Buck and T*mmy of it all or lack thereof any further because this post is about Buddie and only Buddie!
I've witnessed the REAL LOVE Buck and Eddie share and it's the reason why I have and always will ONLY ship them with each other. They've built a family together and the fact is they know each other inside and out. They don't have to pretend and they know how to take care of the other one. They agreed to have each other's backs years ago and they've continued to do it. Chris views Buck as his second dad and he was doing it way before Eddie updated his will and named Buck to be Chris' legal guardian. Chris called Buck when Eddie was having a mental breakdown and it's obvious he could have called 9-1-1 but he didn't. Reminder, Buck and Eddie are both first responders so he could have called emergency services but he called his other dad, the man who told him months before Eddie was shot that he's not going anywhere 👀.
Buck has cried, screamed and clawed at the ground while trying to dig through 50 feet of wet earth to get to Eddie. He's also crawled underneath a ladder truck (one of the things that tried to take his leg) to save Eddie after Eddie was shot by a sniper in front of him. Eddie’s blood splattered all over Buck’s face and he was in a CATATONIC state of shock until Capitan Mehta tackled him to the ground.
Eddie was the one bleeding out but he was conscious enough to ask Buck "Are you hurt?" before he went unconscious for the last time from the pain of being shot with a large caliber bullet. Eddie climbed up a 70 foot ladder while it was extended in the air without being harnessed in to get to Buck after he was STRUCK BY THE SAME BOLT OF LIGHTNING AND WAS CATAPULTED OFF THE BASE OF THE LADDER to get to him. He was the one who restarted Buck’s heart after Chimney had been doing chest compressions on him for 3 minutes. Trust, that last 17 seconds was ALL EDDIE DIAZ! Eddie took Buck to play poker to help him keep his mind off the fact that he died so he could relax and have a good time.
THAT'S LOVE!
Buck’s own definition of love describes EDDIE DIAZ and only Eddie Diaz! Therefore, it's ridiculous that people are literally trying to dismiss Eddie’s love for Buck just because some dude with a sorted past (with Buck’s found family. Hello Taylor Kelly anyone?) put his lips on Buck and kissed him the same way all the women Buck’s been with did.
Buck and Eddie are IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER and they're each other's ENDGAME!
The point of this post is people can ship whoever they want but I HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL SHIP BUDDIE because they share a once in a lifetime, love of their lives, soulmate type of love that transcends space and time.
I'LL NEVER SETTLE FOR A KNOCKOFF VERSION OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. WHY? BECAUSE FOR ME ANY ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS they've had or will have with others resembles a cheap piece of costume jewelry that looks ok from far away until you get up close and realize it's a cheap imitation of the real thing.
Why would I settle for Buck to end up with a KNOCKOFF version of Eddie?
I won't!
And why would I settle for Eddie to end up with some babysitter who's more in love with her brother when Buck’s already been shown to be another one of Chris' parents?
I won't!
Buck and Eddie DESERVE THE REAL EPIC LOVE STORY that 9-1-1 has been showing and telling the audience about them for the last 6 years and no other love interests have or ever will compare to what they mean to each other.
Ship whoever you want but I only ship BUDDIE and I always will.
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ronearoundblindly · 2 days
Text
Pirate & Pin Cushion (3)
Jake Jensen x gn! ops!Reader
Painful...But In A Good Way (see previous or JJ Masterlist)
The last thing you remember is the awkward kiss Jake planted on you during a screaming match. Now, awake and healed, your friend and teammate is acting more awkward than usual around you.
Warnings for foul language, *super skimmed over action,* canon-level betrayal (Roque), completely vague mentions of injuries, suspicions, doubts, misunderstandings,--GO FIGURE--an argument, and I just wanted this done honestly. Not that I don't love them, but I need a win in the COMPLETED department. WC ~1.5k
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You’re a Loser through and through now.
Months have gone by since you were stabbed and unceremoniously, sorta-kinda-maybe-not kissed by Jake Jensen. You woke up six days later with Pooch by your side, disappointed it wasn’t your Banter Bro.
The last thing you remember is turning away from Jake to hide your face. After that, nothing. You suppose he feels awkward about it. Maybe he regrets it, even if the ‘kiss’ was just part of a gag to him.
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The most frustrating part is everything is exactly the same. Jake keeps you at arm’s length, a holding pattern to get no closer as teammates but no farther as friends.
Is this…are you in the friend zone???
It blows.
You’d still prefer this over being a pariah, so on you quip from interaction to interaction.
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For all Jake’s hype about loving Halloween, he shuts down when you ask him what costume you should choose. Then he goes home to his sister and niece for the holiday.
...Okay…
You console yourself knowing this is for the best. You’d promised yourself no attachments, and nature clearly pushes for you to keep that promise.
You’ve almost—almost—resigned yourself to actual pin-cushion-status, jabbed repeatedly by his indifference. You are PC: perpetually crushing on Jake Jensen. It sucks.
You can be professional though. You can keep up with the jokes and take the hits to your heart and body that come with the job.
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Until you can’t.
Los Angeles. The port. The shitshow.
While scrambling to get out of the line of fire in a showdown gone wrong, Jake cuts his leg vaulting over a concrete barrier, and you get him to a nook between shipping crates.
You squat down to change the mag on your MP7 and suddenly hear Roque’s voice behind you. He’s not on the comms.
“Should’ve told ‘em, Jensen."
The look on Jake’s face is shocked and bitter.
Roque clicks his tongue. "At least then they’d know…”
Before you can so much as turn to look, Jake’s raised his own weapon, firing right over your shoulder and within inches of your ear.
The pain is sharp and hot, sending you stumbling into the warped metal wall of the nearest container.
Jake wraps a thick arm around your waist and yanks you away.
You catch sight of Roque dead on the asphalt.
It’s complete chaos, pure survival mode for the next twenty minutes, deaf and deftly tying a bandage around Jake’s leg in an open, empty crate while he’s on comms and frantically hand-signaling you the plan.
But you make it. Everyone but Roque makes it.
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Eventually, when the ringing subsides in your non-ruptured ear, Clay lays outRoque betrayed the team. Aisha teaches you a way to cup your occipital and tap to reduce the tinnitis. Pooch leaves to see the birth of his first child.
You’re left to ponder if Jake is a traitor, too.
Did he kill Roque to keep his own cover? Was he supposed to recruit you into his and Roque’s plan? Is that what he ‘should have told you’ so Roque wouldn’t need to kill you?
The possibilities haunt you. Is this why he’s kept you distant for months? Was Jake worried you’d catch on?
You blame your stupid crush for stopping you from telling Cougar your concerns. You trust Jake—or you want to trust him, so badly—so you confront him alone.
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Dinner. At your place. Away from the team so he can feel safe to admit it. Away from the team so you can pretend your forgiveness isn’t already secured. You’ll deal with the consequences once you know the truth.
Jake seems an odd mix of totally psyched and forcefully reserved when you invite him and a nervous wreck when he arrives at your door.
It’s just pizza. You were too distracted to do more.
He doesn’t pick up his slice because you don’t either, running your hands up and down your thighs compulsively, then quietly asking, “about what Roque said…”
Jake leans back in his chair, leg bouncing frantically, rubbing at his neck. “Yeah,” he replies, eyes on the floor.
“Was he…were you his partner in that? Were you suppose to take me out, too?
Jake’s head snaps up, his mouth askew and brow pinched. “WHAT?”
“Just tell me the truth. I swear, we can work it out with the rest—“
“Is this what—what the fuck—“ he shoves the chair back and steps away “—that’s the reason I’m here right now? I thought you were finally gonna say it!”
Jake rips his glasses off his face and harshly runs his fingers through his frosted tips.
“Say…what? What am I supposed to say? I’m not the one Roque had a damn secret with.”
He’s visibly upset but with bugged-out eyes like he has no idea what to do.
“Well, I’m not a fucking traitor,” he mumbles.
Jake replaces his glasses and takes his phone from the pocket of his low-slung jeans, hitting a few buttons and tossing it onto the table. It slides until it knocks your plate.
His own recorded laugh cuts off quickly. “Okay, PC, what were you saying about Halloween? One more time,” and then comes another slow voice, “I should have told you before I died.
“I love you.”
Your whole body freezes, brain turning the words over and over until it occurs to you…that is your voice.
“I didn’t say that.” Your knee-jerk reaction comes swiftly. “I don’t remember that.”
Jake snorts without humor. “Got that part.”
You’re too stunned to speak. You can’t even imagine when you would have…oh god.
Jake rushes to fill the silence as you die inside, again, maybe more realistically because what.
“Did you at least think I was a badass, like, ya know, a sexy traitor or whatever? Or…were you gonna wrestle me to the ground after I ate a whole pie?”
You keep sitting with your mouth agape.
“You didn’t poison the pizza, did you? Right? Say 'no.' That’s overkill, or just, kill—were gonna kill me?!”
“I’D KNOWN YOU FOR TWO WEEKS,” you explode, bolting out of your own chair.
“Yeah,” Jake squeaks, “I know.”
“Two weeks, and then you taped me saying ‘I love you?’”
“But, like—“ his usually deep timbre pitches super high “…did you?”
“Why would you just sit on that, Jake?!”
He shrugs. “You weren’t exactly sober.”
Too much, too many feelings, all at once. You try to get away, to make a break for the bathroom, but Jake grabs your wrist and swings your momentum to the wall.
Your back hits with a soft thud, pinned in place by Jake’s chest. He’s not breathing heavily, but you are, pushing you against him repeatedly.
That just makes it harder.
Yes, you said it (you guess), and yes, you meant it. Jake, however, hasn’t said word one about if he feels some sort of way for you. Your brain can’t intuit his romantic inclinations two minutes after accusing him of treachery.
He’s…there, not moving, not speaking, lips slightly parted while he stares at you.
You clear your throat.
“You’re…you’re touching me,” you say softly.
Jake doesn’t skip a beat, gently tightening his hold on your arms. “That’s what I do, PC. Finger keyboards.”
You gag as he quickly shakes his head.
“What the fuck?”
“Sounds sooooo bad," Jake moans. "I’m so sorry.” He let’s go of you, steps back, and slaps his hands in the air frantically. “Wait, okay? That was not the joke. I can do it.”
“You’re sick, man.”
Jake rubs at his temples, muttering something about keys, computers, and Halloween. “Hold on...so dumb. This is why I was trying to record it! It’s your joke. You were laying on the bed and--”
“I would never say you fin—“
“He was standing right there,” Jake bursts, scaring you to silence. “Roque. When you said that into the phone, I mean, he was standing at the door and he heard.”
Jensen sighs. Defeated and deflated, he rests his hands on his hips, inhaling sharply.
“So at the port when… He aimed a gun at you and I just—“ he makes a finger gun to point over your shoulder, adding a soft pow sound-effect “—Roque was saying I should have told you before he tried to kill you.”
“About the recording?”
“No.” Jake rocks on his heels.
“About the joke?” Your voice is so small.
His stupid, beautiful blue eyes lift to meet yours.
“No, pin cushion, not about the joke.”
There's a horridly long pause of nothingness.
"Fuck it."
Jake lunges forward with startling intensity, fingers lace behind your head to draw you to him.
You don’t turn away this time.
His lips are soft yet determined, slowly pulsing to transform one kiss into dozens, and he adjusts everything—his height, his stance, his proximity to get even more of you in a single embrace.
“I love you,” Jake whispers, shifting to tilt you left while he goes right. “I should have told you ‘I love you,’ too.”
You promised yourself no attachments, but who are you kidding? You're such a loser, and you found your match.
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[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
😵‍💫
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hxxsxxngx · 3 days
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JAY 박종성 - CRIMSON HONEY : II
Word Count : 1.5k
Genre : Fluff, Angst, AU
Content : mentions of blood, mention of bruises, the morning after, literally one implication of sex, stalking, teasing, missing person
Synopsis : what happens once she wakes up in her kidnappers house?
Authors Note : this is a filler chapter to give some insight of the characters morals and personalities, and because i don’t want to put smut in a somewhat innocent chapter. <3
SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want
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She is awoken by rays of sunlight peeking through the blinds. She is in the bed.. alone… where is Jay? Her eyes open blearily and she tries to focus them. Where the hell did she end up last night? There’s a dull ache in her lower back which she assumes is the source of the pain. She stretches her limbs, wondering how she got there, then remembers that Jay brought her home. After he had fucked her to unconsciousness, he carried her off the bed, placed her on the sofa, and told her that he would wait for her upstairs. That was the last thing she remembered before falling asleep.
Slowly, she gets out of the bed and walks over to the window, gazing down into the gardens below. It was quiet. There were no cars driving past, or birds singing in the morning. It looked like an abandoned area of the estate. The sky above her was perfectly clear of clouds and the sun glistened brightly on the surface of the lake, shining in bright streaks across the water, giving it an ethereal quality. She turns around as Jay emerges from the bathroom
He was dressed only in a grey T shirt and shorts. She looks him up and down appreciatively. He blushes slightly, walking towards her. “You’re awake…” He smiles. “Did you sleep well? ”She nods sheepishly, running a hand through her tangled, sweaty locks. “No… I am so sore.”. “Well, I’m sure your body isn’t used to the length of time I took taking care of you”. “What did you mean by that?”. “By taking care of you?”. “Yes, what did you mean by that?” She questions once again. “Well…” he begins hesitantly. He looks away from her, scratching his head awkwardly.
Suddenly, an idea strikes her. An idea that she desperately wants to follow through with.
She stares at him curiously, watching as he continues to scratch the back of his head, avoiding eye contact with her. “Well…? ” She repeats, raising her brows. He glances back at her, meeting her gaze and sighing in defeat. “I meant…” He pauses. “I meant taking care of you in the way that you liked. I took care of you like a woman should be taken care of”. She bites her bottom lip, feeling her cheeks grow warm. “Oh” she breathes. She doesn’t know whether she should be flattered or embarrassed.
“I don’t think you realize that this was just a random impulse decision. I didn’t choose you randomly in that alley. I planned it. I’ve been following you around for months, peeking into your window, listening to your phone calls with you boyfriend…just to know who you are and what you like.” he explained.
“He isn’t my boyfriend anymore..” she said with an uncomfortable look on her face and an awkward silence following.
“So…you stalked me?” she says, feeling somewhat embarrassed. He grins. “Maybe”. “And you chose me because…?” she inquires.
“Because you seemed like such an easy target. Like anyone could pick you out of a crowd and take advantage of you. Not that anyone would try to…I mean…well…” He clears his throat nervously. “Like you saw before, I’m an evil bastard. And you seem to be exactly my type.”.
She smirks and laughs at him. “Evil, huh?” She mutters.
She hear her phone buzzing vigorously against the mattress, taking her attention off of Jay. 34 missed calls from Mom and 7 texts from Dad. Ugh.. and 12 texts from her ex Jake. She swipes the screen and sees all of the notification messages. Her stomach sinks. She can feel the panic rising up in her. How the hell does she explain any of this to them? “I’m sorry, Jay…my parents…” She starts to say. She watches as Jay’s expression drops. “Ah, yeah. Your parents. Yeah I get it...we can talk about that later.” He turns around and heads towards the door. He stops briefly and looks back at her. “Go shower. I can make you some breakfast and hopefully you can start feeling better.” he says before exiting the room.
She sits up on the edge of the bed, clutching onto the pillow next to her. Fuck. She needs to tell someone, call her father. Or tell her mom. Someone…who will listen to her, not judge her. She quickly jumps up, and quickly walks to the bathroom.
Upon entering the bathroom, she inspects her damaged body. Bite marks, bruises on her neck, and dried blood on her chest. “What did he do to me?” she questioned. She touches the skin around her neck gently, wincing slightly as her fingers came into contact with the raw skin. She examines her body for anything else but there were none. She grabs a wet wash cloths and dabs it on her. She frowns slightly as the water runs cold against the cuts and wounds. They sting, but she knows that they won’t heal as soon as she gets them properly cleaned up.
As she towels herself dry, she glances over her shoulder at herself in the mirror and finds Jay’s reflection looking back at her.
“Jesus how did you get in here so quietly” she said startled. “I thought you were making food”
“I was” He said as he steps inside the bathroom behind her and stands directly behind her. His arms wrap tightly around her waist as he bends forward and rests his chin on her shoulder.
She gulps. “But…how?”. “I’m pretty stealthy for someone who has been alive all these years” he says trailing kisses down the bruises on her neck.
He reaches her collarbone slowly and gently sucks at the skin around her neck until it reddens and she feels hot, flustered breath brush against her neck and lips against the skin. She bites her lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape from her mouth. “Jay” she whispers breathlessly. “Hmm?” He replies, his words muffled slightly from his lips pressing down onto the sensitive area on her neck.
She swallows. “Your hair smells good” she blurts out. He smirks against her neck. “Does it?” he asks teasingly.
“Yeah, I’ve never smelled something like yours before”. She feels his nose touch her neck. She closes her eyes, relishing in the sensation. “Really? What’s my scent?”. “It’s…sweet. Like honey” she answers truthfully. But really, she couldn’t get enough of Jay’s scent and his arms around her. His presence seems to fill every empty space in her heart, leaving little to no room for anything else. She can sense that Jay senses her change in demeanor and he pulls away from her to look at her face. He raises one eyebrow and grins, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
“Sweet? Really?”. She smiles shyly. “Yeah…”. He chuckles lightly. “That makes two of us” he admits. She tilts her head and smiles at him. “I love the smell of your hair, by the way. You always smell nice.”he says, nuzzling his nose against her forehead and inhaling deeply. “Your scent make me crave your blood even more. It is hard to fight back the urge to bite into you right now” he admits.
“What is stopping you?” she teases.
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cyb3r-mutt · 9 days
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i finally handed in my final papers im so relieved 😭😭😭😭 now all i gotta do is make a whole zine by friday and im done for the semester but thats like fun so im not too worried
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channelrat · 11 months
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girlbossed too close to the sun and now im addicted
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belovedmusings · 28 days
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Am I Playing All Right Now?
Kento Nanami x You
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Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)
Kento Nanami has been your respectful, loving boyfriend for two months now. All you’ve done so far is kiss, and you want more with him. He refuses for your sake, warning of his roughness. So, you take matters into your own hands and convince him to put in ‘just the tip’. 
Relevant tags: just the tip challenge, dom! Kento Nanami, clothed sex, couch sex, clit slapping, brief use of leather belt, hard and rough sex, doggy-style, hair pulling, manhandling, big dick-Nanami <3, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex, creampie, I don't use "y/n" for immersion
Music recommended while reading: Dollhouse (The Weekend, Lily Rose Depp, …baby one more time (The Marias), Like U (Rosenfeld)
A/N: this is filthy and I love it, my first Nanami piece <3 enjoy!! (Read on Ao3 if you prefer!)
Read below cut:
The night had gone great. You two had a fantastic dinner at a fine restaurant, and now you’re at his house, getting hot and heavy on the couch. You’re sat in his lap, straddling his waist, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs as the fabric gives to accommodate him between your legs. Your hands are running over the muscles of his chest, only the thin layer of his dress shirt between your touch and his skin. His palms are on your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you so firmly against him that you can feel the blunt heat of his hard cock beneath the confines of his slacks. 
You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins–tonight is the night. Every time you two get close to having sex, he pulls away, saying he isn’t ready, but right now it feels so different, so electric–
He hums, punctuating the kiss and pulling back, giving you room to breathe. Your stomach sinks, no, this isn’t what you want, you want–
“We should stop here for the night,” He murmurs, and you look into his eyes, a frown tugging your lips down at their corners. 
“But you’re hard,” You protest, “Kento, please…we’ve waited long enough, and you clearly want this…”
His jaw tightens as he takes a breath. “I do…but we can’t.”
Now you’re just confused. “...can’t?”
He sighs heavily, giving you no explanation, but nodding. “Now, let’s m–”
“No, hold on,” You interrupt him, “Kento, tell me why? I-is it me? Do you…not want…?”
“It’s definitely not you,” He dispels quickly, “It’s me, okay?”
“What about you?” You press, searching his eyes. “Is it…are you…worried about your performance?”
That gets him to widen his eyes a fraction in surprise. “N-no, it’s not that. It’s…alright, look, it’s…it’s that I don’t want to hurt you.”
It isn’t enough of an answer for you. “And…what do you mean by that?”
“You…you know me to be this nice, gentlemanly man, don’t you?” He asks, a sort of resigned weight to his eyes. “Which, I am. But not when it comes to sex.”
The wheels turn in your head. “So…you’re…?”
“I’m rough,” He finally states, “And it’s…it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m afraid to hurt you or scare you away. Of course I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want, but…you just seem so sweet and–”
“Woah,” You stop him in the middle of his sentence. “Do you think you’re the only one with duality? You don’t think I can be different in bed? Do you think I’m some porcelain doll you’ll break if you’re not careful?”
He considers this for a moment before sighing. “You don’t understand.”
“So then make me understand,” You challenge him, running your hands up his chest. “Please, Kento. I can take it.”
“No,” He denies, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
Seeing his hesitance, you decide to switch tactics. You reach for his hands on your waist, taking his wrists and raising his palms up to the front of your dress. You guide them to rest over your breasts, allowing him to touch them through the thin cloth. You’d decided not to wear a bra for the night since the article had thin straps, and he immediately can feel that, a flash of desire flitting within his eyes.
Riding the wave of his interest, you tell him, “I want you bad, Kento.”
He inhales forcefully, allowing himself to knead the soft flesh beneath his hands. His thumbs graze over your hardening nipples, your teeth dragging over your bottom lip instinctively. To drive your point home, you grind down on him, the only thing on beneath your dress being the panties you’d hoped he’d see when you had put them on earlier in the day.
“You’re playing dangerous,” He warns, voice thin and strained. 
“Maybe I want dangerous.”
He finally lets out a groan, surging forward and capturing your lips in another kiss. It’s more forceful this time, and all you can do is give complete control to him. 
He flips your positions so smoothly, you hardly feel it; you just suddenly feel your back hit the cushion of his couch, a gasp pushed from your mouth. His hands make quick work sliding up your dress, fingers hooking underneath your waistband.
Kento speaks against your mouth lowly. “Lace?”
You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah.”
“Expensive?”
The question catches you off guard. “Uh, no, not r–”
A swift, harsh tug and the sound of fabric ripping later, he holds the scrap lace in his hand, now mangled and unusable. He just tore them clean off.
“Holy shit,” You breathe, now suddenly aware of how bare you are beneath your dress. He must become aware of that fact too, because without a moment to spare, he’s pushing the article up to your waist, exposing you to his eyes. A rosy flush spreads over the bridge of your nose as he looks at your naked lower half unabashedly, a type of hunger you have never seen before nor known he was capable of in his eyes.
He tosses your ruined panties to the floor and fiddles with his belt, undoing the buckle. Your gaze follows his movements, watching his hands expertly tug the leather strap from its loops in his pants.
Then, he surprises you by holding the edge without the buckle and running it along your inner thigh. You shiver, observing him and wondering what his next move will be. He runs it all the way up, reaching the apex of your leg and placing it right over your mound. The cool leather feels unfamiliar there.
“Can I?”
Your attention is pulled to his voice, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he means. Then it dawns on you.
Oh.
No one’s ever done that to you. But…you aren’t opposed. You’re curious.
You nod.
“Words.”
Oh, damn.
“Yes, you can.”
“Good girl.”
You don’t have time to pay attention to the rush of hormones that praise gives you, because a harsh sting of pleasure suddenly hits your senses as he brings the end of the belt down, slapping your clit with it.
“Ah!” You jump slightly, shock, arousal, and fascination flooding you all at once.
“How was that?” He asks, watching you carefully. You take stock of yourself…and are intrigued to find that you liked it. As soon as you realize that, you understand that Kento is about to show you an entire new world previously unexplored to you.
Your eyes lock with his. “It was good.”
A mixture of relief and desire swarm his gaze. “You liked that?”
“Yeah.”
Without warning, he does it again, a little harder, and you cry out this time, unused to the strangely welcome sensation.
“Still good?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
Your next breath is shaky. “More.”
He wastes no time in delivering exactly what you want. Over and over again, until your pearl is red and swollen and the folds beneath are glistening with need, belt shiny with a bit of it. He stops once you reach this state, making sure you see as he licks it off the belt. Your lips part, entranced, and he drops the accessory, instead moving to undo the front of his slacks. Your heart begins racing–but then he pauses, seeming to deflate slightly.
“I’m not gonna go all the way,” He states, “I don’t have condoms.”
“What?” Your voice is more than a little indignant. “But…how?”
“I wasn’t planning to do this tonight.”
He pulls his cock from its restriction in his briefs, pushing his waistbands down to the tops of his thighs, and the sight of the thick, red shaft as your mouth watering and your core pulsing around nothing. 
You think he’s changed his mind as he lines it up, but then he just glides it against your folds, coating it in your essence and using it to rub against you, the feeling intense due to the sensitivity of your previously abused clit, but not what you crave.
“Kento,” You whimper, watching him rub himself off as he plays with you using his cock. “Please…”
“We’re not risking a pregnancy,” He maintains, “It’s not wise.”
You are beyond frustrated at this point, entrance weeping for attention, and you swear the desire is so bad you can feel your entire core sore and empty, vying to be filled and stretched.
What can you say that will get him to do it, even just a little bit?
Wait. Just a little bit.
“What about just the tip?”
His eyes narrow. “What?”
“Just the tip,” it comes out needier than you had intended, but god damn it you’re horny and all out of shame twice over.
Kento takes a good look at you, at himself and the position you’re in, sucking in a controlled breath for the umpth time that night.
Then, he lines up again, cockhead pressing against your entrance. “You’re going to regret asking for it.”
Is he challenging you? Whatever. What. Ever. You’ve reached a point where if you don’t get his cock soon your heart may actually give out. 
“Let me decide that.”
His jaw sets tightly before finally, finally, he cants his hips forward, pushing the tip of his shaft inside of you. 
As soon as it’s in, your head falls back on the couch, hips starting to roll without your permission. Your body wants him all on its own, and you’re no longer in command of it. He groans, pulling out and then pushing it back in, only the tip again, and you whimper in half bliss and half frustration.
You want more. 
You understand the true meaning of temptation now. You’ve had the first bite of the proverbial apple, and it’s shocking how eager you are to devour the rest to its core.
Everytime he pushes in, never going past the smooth head of his cock, you moan, wordlessly begging for more. There’s a worry in his brow and a tenseness to his jaw that indicates just how much self-control he’s exercising, and as you look up at him, you realize he’s still pretty much fully clothed—his tie is pristine around his neck, shirt fully buttoned up, only his dick out and vulnerable to your eyes. 
It’s unfair, and you seek to change that.
Your hand loops into his tie and yanks him down by it, taking him by surprise. He has to catch himself on his hands to avoid falling on you, a grunt escaping his lips as it causes him to slide further into you.
In a lowered hiss, he asks you, “what do you think you’re doing?”
The tone is so vindictive it has any words dying on your tongue. All it takes is a moment before he’s forcefully breathing out and lifting himself off of you, cock withdrawing from between your legs.
You open your mouth to protest, and that’s when your world spins. 
You were face up, but now you’re on your hands and knees on the couch, having to brace yourself as he manhandles you silently. There’s not even a moment for you to acclimate to your new position before you feel his fingers loop through your hair as you’d done to his belt, and in one motion, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams all the way into you, pulling your hair back hard to make you arch for him.
A loud cry splits through the air and it’s only when he starts repeatedly fucking hard and fast into you with the entirety of his monstrous size that you realize the sound was from you.
“See what happens when you push me?” His voice is hoarse and gritty, more like a growl than a whisper, a dull ache inside of you where he’s currently remolding the shape of your walls.
All you can do is make incoherent noises, and you aren’t sure whether they’re from pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both. His grip on your hair isn’t letting up and it hurts, but you’ve also never felt so completely out of control of yourself and somehow it just feels freeing to you. 
“Huh?” He asks, and it’s then you realize you never replies to him verbally. You muster up the strength to speak.
“Y-yeah…” it sounds breathy and whiney, completely foreign in the contours of your voice.
“You happy now? Happy you got me to fuck you like the greedy whore you are?”
The harsh word ripples through you hotly and you moan, nodding as good as you can. “Yes…”
“Yes?” He asks, breathless, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around your neck from behind. “You like being screwed like a whore?”
Apparently, you do. This is new information to you as well. You nod, gasping as he grabs your hand and presses it over your abdomen, where you can feel the flesh rising and falling in tandem with his thrusts. 
“Feel that?” He asks, “that’s me inside of you.”
“Oh god,” You rasp, the knowledge of him so deep inside your body going right to your head. You can feel your mound weeping all over yours and his thighs, the wet slap tell-tale of just how much you’re enjoying this. Just the realization has you fluttering around him, a sensation that isn’t lost on him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, “You really do like this, huh?”
You nod. “Yes, yes, Kento…”
He groans, leaning forward and kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder, brushing your hair out of the way. 
“Such a good girl for me…my good little slut.”
You shudder, eyes squeezing shut as he speeds his movements up, the hand that was pressing yours to your stomach moving down to the slippery mess that is your swollen clit.
The big palm of his on your neck slides the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and dips into the neckline of it, grasping your breast as if to claim ownership of it. 
“Oh my god,” You breathe again, hips twitching at all of the stimulation, face hot, entrance thoroughly fucked open and sloppy, debauched by Kento like a destructive form of artwork.
His middle finger massages circles into your sensitive pearl as he continues the grueling pace of his hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck, and all at once it becomes too much.
It crashes into you like the unforgiving wave of the raging ocean, sweeping you into the depths of pleasure.
You cum so hard on his cock he physically has to stop moving, your hold on him so tight he’s locked inside of you. That’s the moment that he follows, spilling his pent up, heavy load into you with a hiss of pleasure. 
Your arms and knees feel like jelly. Your walls are sore and throbbing, completely exhausted from his ravaging. But all you feel is feather-light. Finally, finally you did it. And it was better than your wildest imagination.
Lips place a tender kiss on your shoulder, his labored breaths slowing back to regulation. You feel his cheek rest upon the skin of your upper back. Both of his hands massaging along the sides of your hips.
“I’m sorry we waited so long. I just figured it would be too intense for you.”
You shake your head, turning it to look back at him as he straightens up and carefully pulls out. 
“Don’t do that again.”
The corner of his lips turns up slightly. “Oh no, I won’t make that mistake twice. In fact…there’s something else I want to do now.”
“And what’s that?”
“I want to test your limits.”
__
A/N: here's my Nanami masterlist :) this is the first piece but lmk what else you want me to write for him! Hope you enjoyed.
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inkskinned · 4 months
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i love finding out how big this world is. my girlfriend has only visited boston a handful of times, but i grew up here. i told her we'd be going to do the tourist traps in salem, and she said - which salem?
to be fair to her, there are a lot of other states that have a town named "salem." and i think there's some evidence that the witch trials actually happened in what is now called Danvers. but the thing is - she thought "salem" was like, a made-up thing. there wasn't actually a salem, massachusetts - like there isn't a gotham city.
they don't talk about it that much where she grew up, is the thing! and this made me laugh. a week ago she was talking about her hometown and said something akin to "well the museum's kinda like the one in richmond," and i had to explain i still had no frame of reference for what the hell this museum was like.
i love finding out what knowledge i take for granted. i used to live with 5 other women. 3 of them were from south korea. they had to take, like, a solid fifteen minutes to explain their birthday system to my gay math-blind ass, laughing as they did.
that same month, our roommate from denmark taught me the danish word for wreath by accident - she'd been talking about decorations, used krans, and i'd been able to figure it out through context. i just picked it up and kept talking. our entire house used krans as the word. she came home and slammed the door one evening, mock-angry, shouting: you motherfuckers! it's a - a wreath!
and how often do you use certain words, anyway! i am cuban, so i was raised with certain spanish words sort of sprinkled in there; but never how you'd think. in middle school i asked someone to pass me the recogedor - in a completely american accent, like i was speaking english. i hadn't registered it as a spanish word. i mean, how often in school do you actually use the word "dustpan" - i'd only ever heard it in the context of cleaning my house.
there are places that you grew up that you, just, like, know. that you assume everyone knows. there are things and people and "common knowledge" that you have that, just, like. doesn't exist for me. i don't know what you call your public transportation system, but in boston we call it "the T". our train cards are called charlie cards because of a song where a father accidentally abandons his family, which was written because our system of transportation. in boston, most people would snort and say everyone knows that, kid.
i think you and i should go on a long walk - it's getting dark early these days and we need any sun we can manage. tell me about the first time you saw snow. tell me about the stuff everyone knows about your home. tell me about the cities "everyone's been to," about the food "everyone's already tried." who knows. maybe it will feel nice to you - watching someone learn about it for the very first time.
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nezuscribe · 7 months
Text
𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
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pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?
warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it
word count: 10.9K (whoops)
note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3
jjk masterlist
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never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 
you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 
his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 
and he seems to despise you.
you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 
he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 
but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 
you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 
but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 
he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 
after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 
and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 
ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 
you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 
not that it mattered now. 
all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.
you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 
whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.
any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 
he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 
you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 
“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 
“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 
it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 
sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 
for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 
but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 
“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 
“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 
you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 
he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 
he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 
it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 
“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 
if only you knew.
“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 
you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 
“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 
“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 
“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 
and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 
“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 
he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.
“just tell them the truth.” 
the truth. 
tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 
tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 
tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 
tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 
tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 
you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.
“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 
you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.
the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 
you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 
“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 
you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 
but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.
“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 
“i don’t-”
“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 
you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 
---
the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 
you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 
you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 
“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.
“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 
he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 
“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 
you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 
“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 
“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 
“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”
gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 
“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 
“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”
the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 
you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 
“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 
gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 
“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 
“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”
“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 
you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 
a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.
“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”
“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 
“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 
“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”
your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.
“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 
“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 
you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 
“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 
“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 
“if you want to hide, i’ll-”
“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 
a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.
“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 
you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 
“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 
“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 
“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 
“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 
his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 
“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 
you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 
you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 
she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 
she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 
you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 
you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 
you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.
---
gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 
“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 
“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 
you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 
so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 
once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 
you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 
though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 
“what you saw last night-”
“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 
“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 
“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 
“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 
“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 
you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 
you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 
leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 
you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 
it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 
“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 
your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 
“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 
you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 
“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 
“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 
you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 
“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.
a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 
---
gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 
it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 
you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 
when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 
“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 
“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 
“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 
“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 
your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 
you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.
sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 
myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 
until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 
“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.
his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 
he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 
“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 
the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 
“are you alright?” 
you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 
he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 
“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 
“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 
“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 
“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 
“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 
“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 
“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”
you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 
“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 
“you are my wife-”
“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 
gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 
“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 
“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  
he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 
he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 
“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 
you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 
“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 
“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 
“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 
he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 
“what do you mean?” 
you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 
“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”
“letters? what letters?” 
you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 
“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”
his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 
“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 
the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 
“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 
“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 
you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 
“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 
“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 
“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 
“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 
“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 
“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 
you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 
“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 
“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 
a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 
“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 
“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 
“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 
he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 
you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 
it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 
it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 
“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 
“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 
he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 
“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 
“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 
“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 
“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 
“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 
“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 
“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 
“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 
“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 
“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 
“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 
“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.
“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”
“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 
you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 
his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 
your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 
“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 
“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 
“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 
his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.
“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 
“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 
he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 
but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 
you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.
he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.
he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 
“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 
“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 
he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 
his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 
it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 
his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 
“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 
“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 
his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 
he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 
“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 
you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 
“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.
“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 
you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 
when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 
he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 
“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 
he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 
“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 
you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 
“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 
“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.
“and then?” 
your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 
“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 
“and then?” 
“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 
“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 
“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 
“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 
“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.
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satorusdiary · 11 months
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dilf!toji being your ex bf
fluff & angst + making up + cuddling + toji not being able to resist you when you look so fragile + toji forever loving you
part 2! - back in love !
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You sent 1:03 am
hey, r u awake?
toji places the cigarette back down on the ashtray, looking at his phone slightly shocked. it’s been months since you and him have had contact, the split up that has happened to your relationship has left a strain in his heart.
why did you text him at this hour? and most importantly, why aren’t you asleep? toji knows how well your sleep schedule usually was.
his friends look at him concerned, the look on toji’s face confusing them even more compared to when he stopped smoking repeatedly just a few seconds ago.
“fushiguro, you good?” satoru questions, patting his friends shoulder as he looks over at his friends phone. he wasn’t able to get a look at the message before toji pulls the phone into a direction that wasn’t able to be seen.
“yeah.. jus’ lemme call someone real quick.” before the rest of his friends could protest, toji is up and walking over to an empty room in the apartment. taking a seat on the bed.
Toji sent 1:09 am
thought i told you to lose my number
now that’s something he wouldn’t text you, he immediately starting regretting sending that message the second you immediately read the message.
you were his sweet little girl. the young woman who he swore he was gonna marry, the one he swore to have kids with.
things were different when he realized how much his life would have an impact on you if you stayed with him.
what’s good about a sweet girl who has a bright future getting with a older man selling illegal substances, that could send him to jail for years and years.
yeah not good at all.
toji knew what’s best for you, and if it meant him not being with you then it was worth it.
because he loved you, and would do physically anything in his power for you to have the best in life.
You sent 1:09 am
i know, i just need someone to talk to rn. i’m sorry
his heart weeps, you still want his comfort even after he has completely broke you, and your relationship with him.
he should be in jail for just breaking you in general.
toji sighs, not knowing how to reply. he wants to comfort you, yet he wants to push you away from his life. push you away from the trouble and the dangers that could happen to you.
he thinks you have given up until you text him 3 minutes later.
You sent 1:12 am
can i call you, please toji?
he couldnt deny it. he just couldnt. his love for you was simply unbreakable even if you weren’t together anymore.
his friends out in the living room are most likely concerned and worried for toji, but that’s the least of his problems. he needs to know if you’re okay, if you’re hurt.
‘incoming call from Toji’
he swears his heart skips a beat when the call goes through.
toji is not one to get nervous. especially with anything in general. but when it came to you, everything comes crashing down. when it comes to you, toji is willing to do anything for you, because you were his girl. his love.
“..hi” your voice is shaky, it seems you’re nervous as well. could he blame you though? this was the first time in months he has actually spoke to you.
“hey.” he replies, hoping you wouldn’t notice the weak tone in his voice as he spoke.
there’s a moment of silence, and soft breathing from your end before toji speaks up.
“are you ok? why’d you call me.”
it’s harsh, his tone is harsh. your eyes begin watering, and you hope he doesn’t notice.
“i-i am just having trouble sleeping, that’s all. ‘wanted your company atleast to calm me down.” your tone has a small strain, as if you were crying for hours before you called him.
it was as if he was able to see your puffy eyes through the screen, he could just imagine it now.
“there’s something else, hm? c’mon tell me, y’know i won’t judge.” especially with you. is what he wanted to say as-well, but he couldn’t get to soft with you now. he couldn’t.
he hears a sniffle from your end, feeling his heart clench once more. as if his heart is dropping to the bottom of his stomach.
“okay.. t-truth is i usually sleep better with you ‘round. but since you’re gone, ‘ts been kinda rough. i just wanted to call you for once, to see if it would help..” you confessed, voice breaking down in between sentences.
toji has an urge to put you down, and hang up. but he couldn’t, how could he resist you? especially after everything he has put you through.
the bracelet on his wrist that has your initials come into his vision. you had made this for him when he was sick, he has never took it off ever since.
“y’want me to come over? not gonna make contact, jus’ gonna be there til you sleep.” he says calmly, he swore he could’ve heard you sigh in relief.
“mhmm, yes please..” you’re still polite, his sweet girl is still sweet around him. that’s what he misses with you.
“alright’ be there in 10. jus know i’m never doin this shit again, kay?” he says harshly, too harsh.
you sniffle again, he could tell your frowning and having tears drop on your phone screen. his heart strings get tugged, and he calms his weeping heart.
he’s hurt you once again.
the call ends before you could say anything else, and he’s out of the bedroom quickly taking his keys. his friends look at him concerned.
“yo, you good?” suguru comments, looking up at his friend who was ready to leave the apartment.
“where you going?” satoru also questions.
toji shakes his head, letting out a deep sigh as he turns to look at his of friends once again.
“gonna be gone for a bit, see ya tomorrow?” he waves them off, and goes out the door before they could reply, or ask anymore questions.
he knows he said he would be at your place by 10 minutes, but he ends up arriving in 5 minutes. quickly at your door step, knocking on the door gently.
just as he predicted, you open the door almost immediately.
when he looks at you, he swears he could break down then and there. on your door step.
your eyes are puffy, you’re wearing his hoodie that he “accidentally” left at your home, and there were dried tear stains on your puffy cheeks.
he wanted to kiss your cheeks badly, and cradle you in his arms. but he resisted.
thats before you crash into his arms, immediately breaking down. hugging him tightly as if he was going to disappear again.
toji breaks, he can’t handle the cold act around you any longer.
“y/n? what’s wrong baby? speak to me..” toji coo’s, his harsh tone disappeared. you automatically feel comfort from his nice tone, something you missed.
there he is, the sweet older boyfriend you have always missed. the man who was your home, your protector, your everything.
“‘missed you s’much toji. miss being with you and megumi, i-i can’t sleep without thinking about how i could’ve been better for you.” you stutter repeatedly.
it was no lie that megumi missed you as well. the boy who is only 3 years old can not go a night without asking where you were, if you were coming back to him without breaking down. because you made the little boy feel loved.
toji’s heart breaks, now he notices how selfish he has been. yes he was protecting you, but he also broke you so much. regret seeps into his body, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly.
“‘s not your fault sweets, you were more than enough for me. c’mon, let’s go to bed.” he murmurs, picking you up bridal style and walks towards your bedroom. the door behind him shutting closed.
the photo of you both happily together was still on your night stand, toji’s heart breaks for the millionth time in the past hour.
his side of the bed was cold, as if you never slept on it. that’s because it felt wrong sleeping on that side, knowing it once belonged to him.
you continue crying as you’re placed on the bed, still in toji arms. he’s careful with you, placing kisses on your face and rubbing your body to give you his heat.
“i-i miss you.. s’much.” you repeat, looking up at him for the first time with clear sight. tears drying back on your cheeks.
he gives you a sad smile and kisses both of your cheeks, sticky with tears.
“i miss you more sweetheart, missed my little girl s’much.. ‘l’ll explain everythin to you tomorrow, kay?” he questions, caressing your cold cheek.
the smile you give him is sad, but could easily melt the coldness in his heart.
after you nod he places a kiss on your lips, before pulling you closer, your head on his chest while is head is rested on top of yours.
the night goes by, and your soft snores fill the room. toji’s eyes are still glued onto the photo of you both, looking so happy, so dumb and in love.
he is gonna make that happen again, only for you. he’d figure out everything else soon, his priority was now you.
“i love you, missed you more than anything. baby.” he whispers quietly, placing one last kiss to your temple before drifting off to sleep.
for the first time in months he is able to sleep with no bad feelings, or any nightmares.
that is because you’re by his side, by his side to push away all the bad thoughts. by his side to make him feel loved again.
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Jujutsu Kaisen masterlist
part 2 - back in love !
a/n: don’t mind typos pls, it’s like 3:47 am😭😭
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