#sorry for being no-show for most of december | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

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Who wears the pants. || husband!John Price

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 3.4K without the extra!! (this one got away from me, I'm sorry.) Pairing: husband!John x wife!reader CW: quick smut!, yelling mentioned, slightly dubcon (if you squint), john got angry and jealous Tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, smut, fingering-ish, slight exhibitionism, love bites and marks, established relationship, jealous!john price, anger mentioned, ghost's stirring the pot. Summary: John is embarrassed of the fact you 'wear the pants' in your relationship... But only after the lads come to stay over and a snarky comment from Simon, does he decide to show you what's what. a/n: my first attempt at writing smut that I wanted to post... Also Ghost/Simon is a dick in this one...

John simultaneously is and is not ashamed to say how much he loves you.

Of course, he loves you to bits, finds you the most stunning woman he’s ever seen, and would kill and die for you in a heartbeat. His love was the epitome of “If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.”

However, he would never risk introducing you to his teammates. Not if he can avoid it. And not just because he cares about you and wants to keep you away from prying eyes, safe and sound in your family home…

More like… they don’t need to know how John purrs when you scratch his beard right beneath his chin and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. They don’t need to see how his pupils almost morph into hearts equally if he sees you in one of his shirts, or in your work clothes, or in joggers and a sweaty t-shirt, or a sexy little number, or nude…

And they especially don’t need to know that their tough-as-nails Captain figuratively rolls over and bares his neck in submission when in the presence of his wife… Or that your voice is like a goddamn foghorn making him genuinely quake in a way he hasn’t since he was a boy at Sandhurst, getting yelled at by drill sergeants…

He hasn’t left the toilet seat up in 12 years. Hasn’t tracked mud into your shared home (whose floors you had just mopped!) in 10. Hasn’t eaten the last of your snacks or used the last of the tea bags without replacing it in 6.

There is no weaponized incompetence in your home because you know John is not incompetent and you will not allow him to feign being it to make you his maid. You take care of him and your home, and you refuse to let him disrespect you in any way… And he knows better than to try.

His teammates have no idea how hopelessly in love he is with you. With the way you seize control from him in a way he allows no one else to. Not his soldiers, not the rest of his family. He’s been the ‘man’ of the house in all aspects for as long as he can remember… But that stops the moment he crosses the threshold of the front door, hangs his coat and his gear in the hall closet, and pads through the home in search of you.

He always finds you busying yourself with something or other and you beckon him close like a puppy, with a pat on the chair next to yours as you work at the dining table, or a come hither motion of the fingers as you water the plants, or reach your arms out for a hug as you stand atop a ladder halfway through repainting the accent wall in the living room. He always hugs and burrows himself in you, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, leaving kisses and touches in every inch of exposed skin.

He’s not embarrassed of you, he’ll gladly shout out to the world about his love for you. But he’s embarrassed by how he acts around you. Soap and Gaz would tell him he’s “whipped” if they ever knew what you do to him. So he doesn’t want them to meet you.

But he doesn’t have a choice. December 23rd, at 11 P.M., he and the lads have just touched down from a mission. The weather forecast speaks of a rainstorm and severe weather warnings extending right over Christmas… And John knows what he must do.

So disgruntled, your husband walks off to his office and calls you. In a low tone of voice, almost hushed, because he woke you up, he grumbles about the storm, about how Soap won’t be able to drive up to Scotland for Christmas, that Gaz can probably risk driving to Birmingham, but it’s still pretty unsafe, and that Ghost, as usual, was going to lock himself in his quarters on base and drink himself until he passes out…

You don’t need to be told again. You spring into action immediately. You simply reply that you’re getting up and getting the guest rooms ready, asking if one of the lads would mind getting the pull-out sofa in John’s study, and telling John to drive safe, that the roads are dangerous with the rain…

It’s midnight when you hear the front door opening, and the hall light turns on, flooding the space with a bright warm-toned yellow-ish light. “Shoes off, you lot. The missus doesn’t want water or mud inside.” He demands in a gruff tone.

As they go about unzipping coats and undoing their muddy boots, you can hear John still chastising them. “I’ll stress again: I want you on your best behaviour. No work talk, no cursing, no disrespect. The missus is doin’ you a favour.” He adds as if the poor lads are children who cannot be trusted to be polite.

Unbeknownst to you, he had already spent the whole drive over from base warning them about picking up after themselves, about being respectful to you, about putting the toilet seat down, about making their beds… reaming them out as if they were wild animals who had never once been inside a house and would break and dirty up everything they touch.

You move to stand at the step that separates the lowered entryway from the sitting room, silently observing them, arms crossed as you lean your shoulder against the wall, wearing a robe and your house slippers as you look at them.

They’re all taller than you, moving surprisingly efficiently and quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful home too much. They’re dripping wet, probably from rushing from the car in the driveway up to the front stoop. A set of four backpacks or duffle bags are on the floor by the door, their clothes for the days they’ll spend here inside.

“Give them a break, Jonathan, you can keep bossing them around in the morning, love.” You quip and you immediately feel all their backs stiffen, four pairs of eyes glued to you.

“Hi, lovie…” John says, already crossing the small entryway to wrap his arms around your waist, dropping a deep open-mouthed kiss to your awaiting lips. Your hand touches his face, caressing his cheek over his mutton chops.

“Steamin’ Jesus, the Captain’s got taste…” You hear a voice murmur, followed by a sharp ‘ow, what was that fo’?’ which causes both you and John to look at the other soldiers. The offending man, the shortest, with a mohawk, rubs at his arm, which seems to indicate the tallest one on his left side smacked him into shutting his mouth.

You don’t need to be told who’s who to realize that it was ‘Ghost’ who smacked ‘Soap’, while ‘Gaz’ stands on Soap’s other side and shoots John an apologetic look. He told you everything about them, without ever revealing names or pictures, for you to know more about them than you should. John himself as his lips pressed together, his mouth nearly disappearing behind his mustache, as he glares at the lads (aka Soap) for making comments about you.

You quickly approach the three men. “You must be the lads my husband talks so much about!” You say with a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the men responsible for bringing my John home in one piece every time…” You tell them gratefully while shaking each of their hands with two of your own, your eyes shining a bit.

“Please, come in!” You gesture behind you into the home as you flick the sitting room lights on. “John, will you show them their rooms while I put the kettle on?” You ask your husband as you slink into the kitchen.

A few muffled footsteps, created by socked feet, are heard as they walk inside, with John directing the boys to the different bedrooms (and study), and you hear a gruff voice murmur something about taking the pull-out sofa. You assume it’s Ghost.

Your husband then comes to hug you around the waist as you wait for the water to boil, dropping kisses to your temple and cheek, doting on you while his big, calloused hands squeeze at every part of you, your thighs, especially, but your tummy as well, along with gentle words. “I missed you so much, lovie…” “Thank you for doing this…” “You know, I can never sleep right without you in my arms…” “Just missed you so much…”

Five minutes later, you hear their steps coming back as you’re finishing pouring the water into a few separate mugs. Your husband dislodges his arms from around you. He doesn’t need the others to see he’s so crazy about you.

“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Price.” Gaz says as you set the tea mugs, the sugar, and the milk within their reach on the island counter. He takes one of the mugs and tops it off with some milk. The way the young boy calls you ‘Mrs. Price’ has nothing if not respect dripping from it.

It makes you tingle on the inside, even after so many years, the realization that you’re John’s wife, John’s choice, John’s priority. Your husband preens himself a bit when he catches the look in your eye. He loves that you’re his, of course, but loves it even more that you like being his.

“Thank you, Gaz. I’m glad you like it.” You remark with a smile as you sip your own tea. Herbal, different from theirs, so you can resume your sleep which John interrupted with his phone call.

“Aye, real cosy!” Soap quips from beside him as he slides up to a stool on the island. He doesn’t drink tea, so you didn’t prepare any, per John’s request.

“I hope the beds are to your liking… I kinda made them in a hurry.” You quip, which causes the boys, and your husband, to laugh, as they seat themselves across from you, in the bar stools. You barely even noticed Ghost taking the last cuppa and sliding up next to Johnny, his mask rolled up just enough to allow him to drink.

“We’re soldiers, ma’am, we’ll sleep anywhere,” Gaz told you, ever polite, with a sweet smile on his lips. John has told you all about Gaz, his protegé, of sorts, a respectful lad, the youngest, but one that has proved himself to be useful.

Your eyes flitter over to John for a moment, watching as he drinks his tea, two fingers laced through the handle of his navy blue mug, rather than around him, his behind leaning back on the counter beside you. While doing that, however, you miss the glances the lads exchange with each other, and then to you.

“As true as that might be…” You trail off after sipping your tea and look back at the soldiers again. “I still hope you have some good rest. And, I’m sorry about the pull-out sofa… it’s a bit old, came from John’s old apartment… Has gotta be a decade old now.” You quip as you look toward Ghost.

“It’s alright. I’ll sleep fine.” Ghost says. “Like Gaz said, we can sleep wherever.” He adds.

Soap nods along. “Anything’s better than sleeping on the ground with your rifle between your legs and your jacket folded up to serve as an eyemask.” He adds and laughs.

“Johnny.” Your husband calls out, chastising him. “No work talk.”

“Aw, c’mon, Captain, that hardly counts as work talk.” He retorts with a little boyish grin.

“Them’s the rules. No bloody talk about service.” John insists.

“John.” You scold him, and your husband stiffens next to you, his eyes flittering over to you, eyebrows scrunched and his eyes softened as he meets your eye… nothing short of a puppy.

It was stronger than John at this point, to respond to your tone of voice with nothing but a baring of his neck, not a baring of his teeth like he would with anyone else. The boys all noticed it, the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes looked at you with utter devotion.

“Let the boys talk about work. As long as it’s nothin’ too gory or confidential…” You trail off. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy ‘earing all the stories they have to tell about you at work... Right, lads?” You ask as you look at them again.

“Oh, we’ve got stories alright.” Soap says with a giggle and a wagging of his brows, which causes Gaz and Ghost to snicker under his breath.

“Well, then, regale me with them during Christmas dinner, ye?” You ask them, to which they nod along with smiles. You could swear even Ghost had one in the corner of his scarred lips.

After a bit more small talk, you kissed John goodnight, while he told you he’d stay downstairs and talk with the lads a little longer, so you waved at them while trekking your way upstairs, the boys once more thanking you for the hospitality.

The moment John’s trained ears honed into the fact the bedroom door has closed, he finishes his tea and glares at the lads.

“Don’t be bloody flirtin’ with my wife.” He tells Soap directly, though his comment extends to Gaz and Ghost as well, which is why he glances to both sides at the other two.

“Sir?” Gaz asks while blinking.

“You ‘eard me, Garrick.” He adds and points a finger at the young Sergeant.

“We’re not flirtin’, sir.” Soap tries to defend himself.

“Aw, that’s rich that there, MacTavish, yeah.” Your husband says bluntly.

“Weren’t flirting.” Ghost retorts as he looks at John. “I was more so interested in the way she has your balls in her little purse.” He adds.

Both Soap and Gaz turn to look at Ghost with eyes so wide you’d think he just tried to kill the Captain directly… and he might as well have, the way John choked on nothing and started coughing up a lung.

The other two are trying to muffle their chuckles and hide their smirks as Simon continues. “Don’t give me that look, boss. We all saw it. Pretty thing might as well be walking you around on a lead.”

“Nonsense.” John says defensively as he snatches the cups of tea from the island and turns to deposit them all in the kitchen sink. He starts washing them quickly, shoulders stiffened.

“Bunk down.” John demands. “We’ve got plenty to do tomorrow.” He adds. The light screeching of bar stools being pulled back and pushed back into place is heard, as the boys vacate the kitchen with curt ‘Goodnight, sir’ murmured before they headed upstairs as well.

“Balls in her bloody purse, my arse.” John grumbles under his voice as he finishes doing the dishes, drying his hands, and then setting them on the island across from him, head hung in shame.

He knows Simon’s right. Hell, he revels in the fact you’ve got metaphorical balls of steel to confront him, to steal control right from under him, to wear the pants in the relationship. Lord knows it took him years to meet a woman who could not only keep up with him but put him in his place…

So why does it embarrass him so to hear them snicker at that fact? Why does it annoy him to look weak for you in front of his men? Why does it anger him that he loves to be weak for you?

Those are the thoughts in his head as he turns off the sitting room and kitchen lights and marches upstairs... And as he approaches your bedside in the dark, pulling the covers out from atop of you, exposing your body to him.

Under that robe you came to welcome them in, you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and no pants whatsoever, which he had peeped by the way your bare legs had shown through the slit between the two sides of the fabric whenever you walked.

“John?” You ask him in surprise, his breath is a bit ragged, more so huffing like a bull through his nose, as he grabs you and pulls you up into his arms, only to drop you on the bed further in the middle of the bed.

The giggle that escaped you when he did so annoyed him even more. He’s angry, pissed that he had been humiliated in front of his men, that you had humiliated him by merely existing and going about your relationship with him the way you always did…

So why are you giggling? Is he really that weak for you that you’ve grown to not fear his anger?

He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over your head, tossing it to the side before he attacks your neck with nothing but kisses and bites, his hands touching your naked body, rough skin dragging over every inch of the softness he has left on display.

“John!” You giggle some more as he keeps touching and kissing you, his body weighing down on yours, your legs parted to accommodate him. “We can’t… We have guests!” You try to negotiate as his fingers dig into the pudge of your thighs and slide around to grip a greedy handful of your ass.

You still haven’t spotted the anger in him… And, as such, your playful attempts at negotiating postponing sex only annoy him more. You’re still trying to call the shots…

His left hand wraps around your face, quieting you with a strong palm holding your lips, his fingers digging into your jaw on either side. “You’re mine.” That’s all he says as his fingers continue exploring your body.

“You think you can embarrass me like that in front of the blokes?” He asks you in a whisper as his teeth catch your earlobe and suck and bite at it. “Hm?” He beckons, his tone aggressive. “Make me look like a big girl’s blouse in front of my subordinates?” He continues.

A shiver runs down your spine as his free hand wraps around the waistband of your underwear and yanks it off, down your legs, tossing them to a random spot, barely giving you time to react before his fingers drag up your thigh.

“You think you’re oh-so-box-clever, innit?” He asks you as his fingers slowly drag across your slit, finding your clit effortlessly, years of practice aiding in his torturing of you. You find yourself moaning and sighing against his hand, hips stuttering a bit, your feet looking for a perch at the edge of the bed so you can rub yourself into his hand.

“Walking around in just my shirt and those knickers and stupid bloody robe, making my boys see how lucky I am to have you, make them jealous… Only to embarrass me, make me look weak…” He trails off and tuts loudly, his tongue clicking disdainfully.

The things he’s saying make no sense to you. You didn’t try to seduce his friends, and you sure as hell didn’t try to embarrass him! It’s just the way you always act around him, around the house. He’s never complained, in fact, he’s praised you plenty of times for being ‘perfect’ for him… So where did this change of his come from?

Frankly, you don’t know, but you don’t care… It has been weeks since you were last together, sure, but you know that’s not the main reason why you’re loving this. The unbridled rage in his voice, combined with the way his experienced fingers touch your body, is making you feel things John’s never made you feel before. Your mind is clear of nothing if not a pang of hunger for him, your hands gently pawing at his shoulders atop his charcoal grey t-shirt, soft whimpers muffled by the hard palm pressing you into silence, into submission.

“I’m afraid I’ve let you gone unchecked for too long, lovie...” He grunts in your ear as his fingers draw circles against your clit, the rough pads catching at the throbbing bud, making you whine and whimper, your whole body shuddering against him. “I’m going to fix that attitude of yours...” He clicks his tongue again, sounding all the more annoyed.

“Now you’re going to be good f’r me…” He says as he uncovers your mouth, his hand, wet with saliva, slipping from atop your mouth to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, flush to the mattress. “And make the lads know exactly who’s in charge in here. Clear their doubts...”

[MASTERLIST]

extra: 500 words-ish

The next morning, you wake up before John, as usually tends to happen when he comes back from a mission. The silence and lack of stress, the warmth of you in his arms, the cosy atmosphere of the house… It’s all the perfect sedative to keep him as good as dead for many, many hours. You slip out of his embrace and check the clock… it was just past 9 A.M. You pad quietly to the hall bathroom after fishing out a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and rinse off the sweat from the night before, as well as the dried slick and cum between your thighs. You’re still unstable on your feet, your thighs and the space between them deliciously sore, your body covered in marks of the night you spent in your husband’s arms… You feel like you’re floating as you drift downstairs and into the kitchen… “Fuckin’ hell!” You jump, startled. In your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea is Ghost… You think. The height seems about right, though you didn’t expect a broad-shoulder, bare-chested blond in your kitchen. “Good morning.” You say softly as you shuffle inside, hearing him return that same greeting in a way-too-deep of a voice, standard of man who’s just woken up. “Go put a shirt on, this isn’t the beach.” You scold him, as you open the fridge, looking for the eggs. Your voice is as fierce as it usually tends to be with John. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him, noticing his mask is missing. You assume John scolded him about it, how you’d likely be startled by seeing a masked man in the night. The look in Ghost’s eyes is unreadable, stern, unwavering, and eerily calm, as if he’s seeing through you. They flit over you, up and down, with a certain glint you can’t quite decipher. You straighten your back in the face of his look, portraying nothing if not confidence. Ghost leans against the counter, one hand holding his tea cup and sipping from it, the other resting on the counter to support his weight, before one of his eyebrows shoots up. “Nice night, huh?” He asks you and, immediately, you feel your entire confidence bleed out of you, your eyes widening like saucers. Of course he heard it… You’re sure all the lads heard you, especially considering John and you started right as they had gotten to their respective rooms to sleep, all of which were located in the same hallway as the master bedroom… It’d surprise you if they hadn’t… Hell, it’d surprise you if the neighbors across the way didn’t! The way John had you last night, crying out his name at the top of his lungs and making you apologise repeatedly for something you didn’t even do (on purpose) definitely leaked through the walls… Just like the shame you currently feel leaks through your pores. You turn away to fix your eyes on the fridge, too embarrassed to face him again after realizing he knows. Your brain rushes to find something to distract you, to hide what you feel… “Are you hungry?” You end up asking softly.

#ikea writes 💚#captain john price #john price x reader #price x you #husband john price #cod fic #cod modern warfare #captain price #task force 141 #masterlist #cod smut

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ladcedes · 3 months

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controversial!

summary f1 heartthrob lando norris starts dating a hot, up-and-coming celebrity with a not-so-hot personality and some fans protest…

disclaimer reminder this is completely fictional!!! the “faceclaim” (very loosely) may be rachel zegler but in no way am i basing it off her personality!!! no hate to her at all i love her sm

the tweet:

comments

user-1 isn't this lando norris' new gf

user-2 no way she's featuring on a DRAKE album 💀💀

yourusername

Liked by bellahadid and 223,449 others

yourusername one thing about me and red carpets... i'll always be serving cunt ❤️‍🔥

view all 442 comments

hunterschafer yess always serving the best looks

bairdballad absolute icon!!

(liked by lando norris)

⤷ bairdballad wtf lando liked this

⤷ snowangel @.bairdballad lando is so real for that

landonorris always a stunner

⤷ yndefender so can we take this as confirmation that they're together

⤷ ynmyloves @/yndefender if this isnt confirmation idk what is 💀

ln4life her language is so vulgar why would lando be with her

⤷ futuref1w4g ikr she's such a bad influence

⤷ angelyns icb you actually said vulgar 💀 lando norris is a fully grown!! BRITISH!! man!!

⤷ milcedes @.ln4life @.futuref1w4g average instagram comments...

lewishamilton 👏👏👏

⤷ ylnstars LEWIS??? lando you better get tf up

⤷ ultraviolenced ariana what are you doing here

2007wdc we should expect lando of all drivers to be with a girl like her most tbf

⤷ 9thwdc aside from lewis

lando.jpg

tagged: yourusername

Liked by daniel3.jpg and 342.112 others

lando.jpg and that marks the end of the 2023 season ✨

view 4 comments

yourusername not a single pic of my face yet you tag me... someone tell him that's not how soft launches usually work

⤷ lando.jpg @.yourusername who says i'm trying to do a soft launch

⤷ yourusername @.lando.jpg you showed me hundreds of other 8K HD pictures of me with my face and only post faceless ones?

⤷ lando.jpg @.yourusername maybe i'm just gatekeeping your face

⤷ yourusername @.lando.jpg it's ok lan, you can stop trying to cover up your loser soft launch attempt, i'll still love you

comments have been disabled

yourusername

tagged landonorris

yourusername cheers to the haters 🥂 he still loves me xx

3 December 2023

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georgerussell63 @ landonorris Your gf is scary help

landonorris you tell em babe

norrislclrc queen behaviour i say

ln4life can’t believe he’d get with you

⤷ ynloml and? you think he’d ever look in your direction?

⤷ ynvfx literally get a life how are you still out here yapping about them even on insta??

ladcedes using this "comment" as an author's note! this is so scuffed im sorry i started it back in early december planning to do more for it but i got busy and atp just wanted to get it done 😭

⤷ ladcedes so for anyone confused about the drake album randomly being there… yeah…

#lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader smau #lando x reader smau #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #formula one smau #formula 1 smau #f1 smau #lando norris x you #lando norris one shot #f1 one shot #lando norris social media au #crack fic #lando norris smut

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baflegacy · 28 days

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putting my parasocial and rpf goggles on again im sorry but. do you ever just realize how insane the dynamics in smosh are and how most of it reads out like a sitcom or a fanfic someone made up in their mind.

imagine starting a youtube channel with your childhood best friend, being able to turn it it into a company, falling out along the way, not being in contact with each other for half a decade until one random december and being able to buy back back said company with said best friend and getting to do the thing you guys did at the start.

imagine auditioning for a youtube channel you really look up to and meeting a former disney star who tells you they’ll see you at work immediately after auditioning, being best friends with them along the way, falling in love and getting to announce (or joke about) your marriage with said former disney star in the same youtube channel.

imagine befriending your coworker for a kids sketch comedy show, being best friends, moving on from said show, auditioning for a youtube channel as an actor and later as an on-screen personality, being roommates with said best friend and getting them to audition in the same youtube channel you’re working at so you could work with each other again.

imagine auditioning for a youtube channel that you don’t really know about, meeting someone for the first time in the first video you appear in for said channel, them constantly telling you that you’re killing it and doing a good job, immediately having good comedic chemistry with them on your first video, and then finding out along the way that said person is basically you but just a couple of years older and is practically your soulmate. how do you explain this to someone who just watches reddit stories

#smosh #ianthony #shourtney #shaymien #amangela #many more examples im sure but. BUT

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slttygeto · 9 months

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CURSING MY NAME, WISHING I STAYED.

જ⁀➴ synopsis: you never got the chance to say goodbye to each other in 2007, you never thought you needed to. ten years later, you are still unable to find the right words as you stand in front of his lifeless body. if suguru geto was truly dead, who was the man standing in front you almost a year later?

જ⁀➴ content warning: angst, hurt/no comfort, manga spoilers, slapping and choking.

જ⁀➴ word count: 1,4k

જ⁀➴ note: this was requested about a year ago and I only got the chance to work on it today. enjoy :)!

You never associate Suguru with spring, despite it being such a lovely season, you remember it being the one season where he decided he needed to pull away. It was subtle, but you could feel it. He ate less, spoke less, he didn’t want to hang out as usual. You didn’t go on missions anymore, but you tried to be present. Even when summer came around and all hell broke loose.

You associate Suguru with autumn. Satoru doesn’t say a single word when you say it loud, when you tell him that that the orange leaves falling down and painting the road remind you of your past lover, how your love for him felt that way when he left—fragile, easily crushed. But Satoru would beg to differ. He could see it in your eyes, how they refuse to meet his when Yaga brings up the man’s name. It hurts to lose a best friend, but it hurts even more when you have a best friend and a lover in the same person.

Ten years later on Christmas Eve, Satoru has to put his best friend to rest. He doesn’t need to call you or tell you where he is, you just know. You show up as Suguru is taking his last breath and you stand there, unmoving. Your love for Suguru didn’t feel like autumn anymore. The tears running down your face were warm, and your chin was quivering as you let out a pathetic sob.

“I’m sorry.” What was Suguru apologizing for? For killing people or for betraying the people he loved the most? You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, didn’t even bother to wipe the tears blurring your vision. You just stared at him, how a smile was dancing on his lips as he saw the two people he loved the most standing in front of him.

“Perhaps in another life,” Suguru’s voice is quiet, and you seem to take notice of how pale he looks. “I am who you’ve always wanted me to be.”

You wanted him to be many things, but it seemed unfair for him. If Suguru was truly unhappy while in Jujutsu high, then maybe you were never meant to be together. If he couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world, then perhaps destiny played its cards wrong. If you were never able to keep Suguru around, then Suguru was never yours to keep in the first place.

You watch as the life slowly fades out of his body, and Satoru turns away from the corpse of his best as you kneel down in front of it and hold his lifeless body in your arms, the heart wrenching sobs that you let out force the strongest sorcerer to stand behind you and place a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s time to go.”

“You’re late, (name).” You never associated Suguru with autumn after his death. In fact, no season could do your past lover justice. Yet the person standing in front of you reminded you of winter—cold, mean and lifeless.

Why was Suguru standing in front of you?

You and Satoru are unmoving as the familiar body of your best friend and lover approaches the two of you. You don’t speak, your lips are frozen as you stare in shock at the same person whom you’ve been mourning his death for the past twelve months.

Geto Suguru passed away on December 24th. You’ve been mourning his absence for almost a year—so who was this person standing in front of you?

“I don’t remember you being this quiet, my love.” The pet name sent shivers down your spine, and you watched as the hand of your past lover reached towards your face to hold it. You craved this, to be held by him again after so long, to feel the warmth of the one person who promised you a lifetime of happiness—only to break that promise so soon. You pull away harshly when the tip of his fingers touches your cheek, and Geto Suguru seems to find your hesitance extremely funny.

“Who are you?” You step back towards Gojo, and you don’t need to look his way to know that he was just as taken aback as you were. Wide blue eyes staring in shock at his best friend—his one and only. It was sad that Geto Suguru (while he was still alive) was your enemy for longer than he was a loved one or a best friend.

“Geto Suguru of course.” Liar.

“My six eyes…” Satoru starts, and your heart breaks at how panicked he sounds. “My six eyes are telling me that you are Geto Suguru.”

But he wasn’t Suguru. This wasn’t the man you fell for, nor the man you fought last year. You refused to believe that he somehow came back to life. Not when you kneeled in front of his corpse and held him in your arms.

“But my soul knows otherwise! So hurry up and tell us, who the hell are you?!”

It’s a gut wrenching feeling as you watch the man in front of you open up Geto’s head and toy with it as he wished. He lets out an ugly laugh, one that doesn’t match Suguru’s beauty.

“It’s a cursed technique that allows me to hop between bodies by switching brains. Of course, it lets me use the innate techniques within the body, I coveted his cursed manipulation and these exact circumstances.” His eyes then land on you and a sinister smile is dancing on his lips.

“You,” he starts, taking one step forward towards you. “As pathetic as you seem in this man’s memories, begged Gojo Satoru and Shoko Ieiri to not get rid of Geto Suguru’s body, am I right?”

As pathetic as you seem in this man’s memories.

You didn’t know what to react to first. His words felt like a thousand burning knives, each one stabbing you from a different side. You fight back the urge to jump on him, you know you’re at disadvantage because Satoru was bound to this prison realm.

“I did.” Your response is short and quick, and the man in front of you chuckles at how dry you sound.

“He loves you a lot, you know?” Kenjaku pauses for a second, and the time he takes before continuing makes you feel as though he was mocking you. “Always wished he could trade places with the strongest sorcerer. You two were close, it always nagged him.”

This wasn’t true. This could never be true because Satoru and Suguru were closer than ever. You don’t remember a single instance where you felt as though Suguru was jealous of his best friend. This man was trying to shatter you in hopes of trapping you the same way he trapped Gojo Satoru.

“How are you gonna let yourself get used like this, huh?” Satoru sounds enraged. “Tell me, Suguru!”

You are just as shocked as Kenjaku when his neck twists, a sign of resistance when hearing Satoru’s loud yell. It was almost as if he heard him and wanted to wake up, to free himself of the man who was using his body to toy with the feelings of his loved ones. He then laughs, and again it sounds evil as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Ha! No way! This is a first for me,” his eyes then fall on your frozen figure and by the look on his face, he was up to no good.

His hand makes its way towards you and wraps around your neck, you get that his intention was to choke you. But when his hand refuses to squeeze around your neck, the look on his face turns into an annoyed one. Kenjaku couldn’t hurt you, Suguru didn’t let him.

Unfortunately, he still had more control than the original soul occupying the body and his hand manages to grab your neck and push you up against the wall, knocking the wind out of your chest.

“You’re getting in the way.” No matter how hard Gojo tried to shift the attention back on him, Kenjaku seemed to want to get rid of you and as fast as possible. You find yourself thrown next to Satoru, tied up in similar bounds.

“Goodnight, my love.” His hand caresses your cheek, and you’re forced to feel his cold touch against your skin. You hear a smack and your cheek stings, teary eyes forced to stare into his cold ones when he roughly grabs your jaw.

“Let us meet in the new world.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

#moon's works #jujutsu geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk season 2 #jjk spoilers

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nhularin · 8 months

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1 STEP FORWARD, 3 STEPS BACK

PAIRING bf! jay x reader GENRE toxic! relationship, angst no comfort WARNINGS insecurities,there might be some grammar mistakes WC 0.9k series masterlist

December 12, 2001

"so, how was your day?"

you looked at him, your voice soft as you asked. you and your boyfriend sat in his car, the air thick with tension. but jays response was anything but kind. his eyes narrowed as he looked straight ahead of the road, his voice filled with bitterness. "fine" he spit out and silence fell upon you once again

no, it's back and forth, did I say something wrong?

the tone of his voice made you recoil, your heart sinking. it was a typical thursday night and you haven't seen each other outside of school in what felt like forever. you had only wanted to check up on him, to show him that you cared about his well being. but his words sliced through you like a dagger, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

"thats great!" you tried to sound cheerful, but your voice betrayed you when those words came out quieter and wobblier than expected. you looked outside of the passenger seat's window, attempting to ignore the unbearable silence in the car. you could hear the joy and euphoria from passing cars and you couldn't help but feel jealousy radiating through you

All I did was speak normally, somehow I still struck a nerve

"why are you always so sensitive?" jay continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "you make everything about yourself. cant you see that I have my own problems to deal with?"

jay could feel your discomfort, he had to. hell, the passing cars could probably feel it "dont be like this" he said, sighing heavily "why do you always ask me that? you saw me at school. did you see me crying? no. so dont ask obvious shit when you already know the answer."

your eyes welled up with tears, voice trembling. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I just-" you paused, feeling your throat close up "we haven't hung out in a while and i just wanted to make sure that you were fine"

jay scoffed, his anger intensifying. "you think you can solve all my problems with a simple question? youre so naive. you don't understand anything. fine, coach Madson was a fucking asshole today but i knew you wouldn't understand. isnt a simple 'fine' enough? all you know is how to break out in song and dance with your theater friends"

im the love of your life until I make you mad

your heart shattered as his words echoed in your mind. you had hoped for a moment of connection, a chance to offer support. but instead, you found yourself facing his anger, his frustration, and his complete lack of empathy.

you longed for affection, for those sweet words of love to fall from his lips. but instead, you were met with a wall of unpredictability. one moment, he would hold your hand and make you feel like the most special person in the world. the next, he would push you away, leaving you wondering where you went wrong.

every little thing you did seemed to set him off, like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. his anger was swift and cutting, leaving you feeling small and insignificant. it was a rollercoaster of emotions, and you couldn't help but question if he truly loved you.

jays grip on the wheel tightened even further as you reached a familiar intersection. the red light seemed to mock your mess of a relationship, the halted traffic mirroring your damaged connection.

as the light turned green, he pressed down on the gas pedal, your heart pounding heavily in your chest. the car lurched forward, the engine roaring, but the noise was nothing compared to the deafening silence between you two. the streets blurred as you sped through the night.

in that moment, you realized that jay wasn't capable of providing the love and understanding you have craved. he was a storm of emotions and absolutely unpredictable, lashing out at anyone who dared to get close.

on your late night drives, you would often find yourself bracing for impact. would jay walk you home, or would he send you home crying again? it was a cruel game of chance, and you were trapped in its endless cycle.

"look" he sighed "im sorry for lashing out, im just stressed with-" he paused longer than expected "practice, AP calc, everything, okay? its nothing personal"

his apology didnt change the storm of emotions forming inside you but you tried to tame it as best as possible, trying to look unbothered by his constant outbursts of hatred.

when did it all go wrong? you have known him since forever, his toothy grin and messed up bangs permanently engraved in your head. you managed to form an awkward smile "its okay" its always okay, as long as you were with him

do you love me, want me, hate me?

finally, you arrived at your house, and jay pulled over. the quiet and calm suburb contrasting the chaos in your head. the car idled, the engine still rumbling.

there was a moment of silence, a moment where the weight of your emotions hung in the air. and then, without another word, jay reached over and opened the car door. his gesture made you feel giddy and hope filled your heart. as you stepped out, you gave him your biggest smile

"ill see you tomorrow, text me, okay? i love you"

he didnt say it back nor did he message you that night

no, I don't understand

PERM TAGLIST @misokei @avocarua @sngvhs @essmarye @haechansbbg

SERIES' MASTERLIST @flwerfield @hyhees @mrchweeee @j1nniee @mikaluvsyouu @delulu4-life @mora134340 @beomsbeanie @leep0ems @cIphantom-hive @yla-aira @filmofhybe @nishik1

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yo-yo-yeonkai · 5 months

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WINTERS SACRED GIFT TO YOU, MY LOVE - CHOI SOOBIN - NSFW

Soobin x fem!reader

Genre: Smut

warning list: Dom!Soobin, kinda Brat!reader, long term boyfriend Soobin, fingering (f!receiving), marking, chocking, degradation; (slut), praise, pet names; (baby, darling, my love), smut with plot, have to stay quiet, family in the house, breeding ( though I wouldn’t say it’s a kink in this situation, it’s just kinda happening in the plot), not proofread, lmk if I missed anything

Word count: 4,600

Summary: Whist receiving a surprise visit from her long term boyfriend, Soobin, in her family home, they end up getting risky and frisky upstairs in her room.

Authors note: Happy birthday Soobin!! I have returned from my eternal slumber to make sure I wrote something for the occasion. Sorry if it isn’t as good as normal my loves <3

Sheets of white, sharp flakes clung to the barrier between cool frosted winters and the fluffy comfort of your home. The weather in England was hardly ever snowy, it was more likely to rain. Throughout your whole 23 years of living, you had seen snow maybe 7 times, most winters were just cool and wet. Despite how uncommon it is, small speckles of frost attempted to cover the ground in a blanket of snow, attempted being the key word. The light rain from this morning had yet to glaze over into ice, meaning the second the white drops of snow made contact with the ground they simply melted, joining the growing puddles across the streets.

Inside however, the rooms shone with the warm glow of small fairy lights, strung neatly almost anywhere you could get them. Golden and red tinsel increased the warm toasty feeling among the house in a similar way to the small bulbs of light scattered among the tinsel. This year the home was decorated with assistance from both of your siblings, and your mum, and it actually felt like the holiday season, for the first time in your adult life. You've had 3 Christmases in the new house, none had felt like this so far. The chilly weather slipped through any entrance it could find, the house looked beautiful, and you all managed to get some form of break from work this December.

Currently, your mum was cooking your dinner downstairs, while upstairs your little sister was tasked with keeping you warm. However, instead of acting on simple thoughts and holding you to keep you warm, she sat cross legged on the floor gazing up at you, trying to devise a genius plan to keep you warm. You had already begged your Mum to turn up the heating, and even turned the dial up a few times, just for your mum to realise and turn it back down.

Unfortunately, none of your requests were accepted, all because everyone else felt completely content with the temperature. At least, that's what they say, you reckon this was all just a massive ploy to get you to accept their hugs more. You weren't one for accepting your family's attention you see, but they LOVED physical touch and affection. In this situation, you had no choice but to wait for your sister to either give up at keeping you warm or come up with an idea.

"Youngsook, sis, please come up with an idea" you begged, a pout showing on your face as you shivered to yourself slightly. Your whines didn't stop the flow of horrible ideas through her brain, but it did seem to encourage her to give up and hug you. Moving to join you in the bed, she sighed, seemingly defeated by the lack of ideas swirling through her head. However, just as a victory flashed before you, it was taken away, she stoped her movement and ran to the bathroom.

"YOUNGSOOK!" You shouted desperately to her, the soft whine in your voice slipping into your tone once again. She poked her head around the door frame, to look at you, and spoke "Give me a second you big baby!", then she rummaged through what sounds like the bathroom cupboard until she found whatever it was, she was looking for. She held something behind her back as she walked into the room "'look away" she said, laughing to herself. The worry in your head informed you that you shouldn't, but you were far too cold to fight anymore, so with that you closed your eyes. The sound of her fumbling around near the side of the bed, chuckling to herself and muttering "'I'm a genius" before something snuck under the cover. It should have worried you, but you've known her forever so you wouldn't be scared by such innocently simple acts.

She spoke up "Open your eyes now" she couldn't stop laughing and it made you giggle back at her. You turned to her and quirked an eyebrow "'okay, what is your genius plan?", she laughed at you, and suddenly a mildly loud noise could be heard, accompanied by a strange warmth radiating underneath the blanket. You moved your hand towards the heat, and laughed at her "Are you using the hairdryer to warm me up?". She nodded and smiled widely "'it's working, isn't it?!" She asked, very content with herself. You nodded and closed your eyes, happy to finally feel warm.

Youngsook leant against the bed staring at you goofily, the look across her face only being one of deep amusement that this was actually working. You were pulled out of your daze by the sound of the door opening and your older brother, MinSook speaking "'What the hell is that noise? What did you two manage to break this time?". Youngsook waved the hair dryer in response, and you whined "NOOO, put it back, I'm cold!". He face palmed, instructing "'don't put it back, you are both smart enough to know that's a fire hazard so why are you doing it!".

Youngsook turned off the hair dryer and aimed it at him "'desperate times call for desperate measures" she shouted. You laughed then reached for her "'No, don't shoot, it's not worth it" you joked. He stepped closer and she shouted again "'don't take another step towards the princess, I will not hesitate to shoot!". Youngsook seemingly had no problem with understanding your silly little joke and played along with you. However, your older brother flicked Youngsook's head and pulled you out of the covers and stood you up, hand wrapped around your wrist like a naughty child, "'I will be taking the ‘princess’ to have her dinner. If you object, then shoot, if not put the dam thing back where it belongs" he told, knowing Youngsook wouldn't disagree with food. Despite seeming more mature than you and Youngsook, you didn't fail to notice that MinSook still played along with the joke.

He dragged you out of the room and his hand radiated waves of warmth into your skin "'gosh, you are so warm. Why couldn't i have stayed with you whilst you and mum were making dinner? You didn't have to banish us from the kitchen you know!" You mumbled. He let you go as you reached the kitchen, moving away from you to plate dinner up for everyone. "'I DID have to banish you! The two of you wouldn't stop getting in my way. As much as I absolutely love, ew, having you home, dinner would have never got done if you stayed in the kitchen. I was hoping Youngsook would just like lay with you and watch a movie, but no... sometimes I question if you two are straight up idiots". MinSook whined, teasing you about yours and her antics.

I'm sure I've made you seem like immature babies, but I promise you are grown up, it's just that when you get distracted and caught up by fun Youngsook likes to join, and vice versa. MinSook will join in some of the time, but when he is busy and you are distracting him, he will either give in, or kick you out of the room. Normally, you can get him to join for a little while, but once that's over you would most likely get kicked out and made to clean up your mess.

This doesn't make you and her upset, you only find his behaviour amusing, because he clearly wanted to join in, but doesn't want to be seen like a baby. He was 3 years older than you, sitting at 26, whilst she was 1 year younger than you, sitting at 22. There wasn't much of an age gap, but somehow it made all the difference.

Youngsook knocked on the wall, near the kitchens entrance, and asked "'am I allowed back in the kitchen?". MinSook looked at the girl, thinking about his options for a second before he responded "'yeah, can you do me a favour and take the plates to the table while I put away the leftovers. Mum's already in there setting up, just help her".

She stepped into the kitchen at the request and took five plates through to the dinner table. You watched as she took the plates, leaving you confused... there were only four of you at home, your dad was away on a business trip. You moved to watch her set the table and smiled, content at the proof that you could be just as grown up as your older brother. Well, you say that, but really Youngsook was doing all the work right now and you were stealing her thunder.

You turned on your heel and wondered back into the kitchen, glancing at your brother. "Why is the table set up for five? Are we expecting someone?" You question, rapidly becoming concerned at who in the hell could be joining you. He huffed at you "stop asking questions, go sit down", he turned to roll his eyes at you then went back to putting the leftovers into containers. Is he seriously going to be like that? This motherfucker...

An idea shot to your brain, the instant need for an answer seeping into your thoughts. Jumping down from the counter, you landed softly and walked towards him. You wrapped your arms around him, side hugging him. He groaned sassily "'gurl, can you get off while I put this away". You jokingly pouted and let go, waiting for the very second, he had put the leftovers in the fridge, so you could reattach your arms. But this time, your arms hit his bare back by sliding under his jumper. Causing a yelp to slip out of his mouth as he tried to get away from you but couldn't. You laughed manically, rubbing your cold fingers against any bit of his back that you were yet to touch. "AHHHHH..... (Y/N)... p-please. AHHH ST-OP" he shouted, screaming every time you reached a spot that was yet to be damaged by your cold nature. You cackled as you tortured him, but he wasn't sure whether to laugh at your witchy laugh, or cry that you had gone insane.

Giggling, you halted the movement of your hands "'What will you do for me if I remove them eh~" you joke, trying to bargain with him. He huffs weakly in return, "'remove your hands and I'll tell you". Slowly, you removed them and seeing a chance of escape he ran away from you, stopping in the hallway. "'watch this..." he spoke, bringing his hand up and turning the dial on the heating so it would be warmer for you. You giggled "the best thing you could've honestly done right now". Then walked towards the table, content at the payment you had received.

At the dinner table there was now another person sat down, a person you knew all too well. Seeing his face made you squeal and run up and hug him, nearly sending you and him backwards on the chair. Once you had released him, you moved to sit in your chair, though you wished you could've hugged and kissed him, but your family was there.

He chuckles as you sit next to him "Surprise (N/N), I've managed to get a break and I'm here to visit" he cheers, making cute jazzy hands at the surprise. Tears of joy threatened to spill at the discovery that he was here, at your family's house. He was meant to be in Seoul. You were meant to be in Seoul, how had you both managed to get a break from work? This was far too good to be true! Is this what main characters feel like?

"Oh, thank god, I'm so glad to see you, Soobin. How long will you be staying? When did you get here? How did you get here? Who told you the address? Which one of you sneaky people told Soobin to visit, without telling me!?" You stress him with a battery of questions, then address your family with the last question. Your mum giggled at your questions "I did sweetheart. But let's just begin dinner for now, Soobin can answer later, isn't that right Soobin?". He nods gently at your mother and grasps your hand quickly as the others focus on serving their food. He was overjoyed to see you; you could tell by the way his eyes twinkled every time he gazed over at you. His thumb rubbed on the back of your hand and then he let go to serve you both some dinner. Holding your hand was the best he could do right now to show you that he missed you, that he loves you, that he's happy, and you appreciated everything about it.

At the dinner table conversation was kept light because you were all more focused on eating, the food being absolutely delicious, served with a glass of wine each, cause YoungSook set the table. The girl definitely knows how to set a table. However, she didn't even like her wine, so MinSook ended up drinking her glass and his. Soobin drunk yours whilst you weren't looking, trying to be cheeky with you. Which he knew was okay because you didn't love wine either, he knew you'd rather a cocktail. Not that it made much difference to you, you hadn't been drinking for a while. When you were all done, you cleared the stuff of the table and let your family catch up with Soobin because they hadn't seen him in ages.

In the kitchen you turned some music on and started to wash the dishes, you were singing quietly and had managed to get bubbles splashed up yourself. You laughed at your messy appearance and continued to wash up.

When you were done, you grabbed a handful of bubbles and showed Youngsook, who could see you from the dinner table, giving her a 'shush' motion and pointing at Soobin. She looked away quickly, trying her best not to laugh at what was about to happen. You crept up behind Soobin and slapped his face with the bubbles, laughing at him. He wiped the bubbles from himself and looked back at you "'there is no excuse for that, I know for a fact you haven't had anything to drink.... So why in the world am I covered in bubbles?" He questioned with a chuckle and a cock of his eyebrow. You giggled and pointed at Youngsook "She told me to do it!".

Soobin looked to Youngsook, who gave him a knowing look, and the man only chuckled, excusing himself from the dinner table and rushing off to the kitchen, and then speeding back with a handful of bubbles. The sight meets your eyes and you quickly take off running up to your room, hoping you can lock the door before he gets there. Foolish were you to think you could beat a giant in a race.

You were inches, no, centimetres from locking the door when he wedged his foot in the door and then pushed it open with his elbow, his whole-body strength behind the push. He smirked as he approached you, rubbing his bubbly hands all over your face as he giggled, dimples showing which only made it difficult to be mad at him. He pauses his ministrations and holds your cheeks, taking his time with examining you before he mutters, so honestly and rawly it hurt to hear "I missed you so much. I'm so glad I'm here. I love you so much, I don't want to be apart from you again". He'd told you he loved you before, but this time he meant it with more than just his own being, he meant it with the whole world behind him, the whole universe. It felt special...

His face dives towards yours, not waiting for you to respond to his loving remarks, as his lips meet yours. Soft, gentle lips moved sweetly against yours, even carefully, until you moved closer to him. Then everything changed, it became more heated. His lips slid against your own wet ones as he forced the kiss deeper and deeper, feeling the urge to be so close with you you'd never have to be apart again.

Breaking away from the kiss for a split second, he lowly admits "I want you" then his lips were back on yours as he walks you backwards towards your bed. The second your legs come in touch with the edge of it you fall backwards onto it, him standing and watching as you do so.

As he eyes you, you giggle "Soob~ my family are here. We can't do this right now". He walks back towards your door and locks it, then returned to you, leaning over you on the bed.

"Oh darling, you can be quiet for me can't you. It wouldn't be the first time we've fucked with our family around, and I'm sure it won't be the last time either." He chuckles, a deep tone slowly becoming more and more prominent as he gets turned on.

His head draws close to your neck and right before he slides his tongue up your neck, you feel his hot breath fan across your skin. A warmth you've been craving all day, and you're sure he knows it. Everyone knows you get cold during winter; you were sensitive to weather, and normally Soobin would 'help' with that.

"Soobin... we shouldn't, you know we shouldn't" you mutter, voice slowly becoming more and more whiney and desperate. He knew it was working when he heard your voice, he knew that you wanted him as well. He didn't respond, in fact he only pursued you more.

His hot mouth latches onto your neck, sucking and biting at all your most sensitive spots, because he knows you like the back of his hand. The feeling causes a desperate whine to slip out of your lips before you could catch it. He groans and chuckles in your ear, his head drawing close to your neck "'do you want to be touched baby?" He asks in a gruff voice. You nod your head and whimper, trying to grind up onto him. "'then admit, you want me. It's not difficult darling".

You look down at Soobin and see him smirking, there was no way you were giving in to him that easily. "No, nothing to admit" you spoke, trying to grind on Soobin but failing. Soobin moves himself so he's leaning directly above you, hand either side of your head, making sure he's pressing his clothed cock right where you want it.

You nervously look up at Soobin, seeing him leaning to look at you. "'How many times does it take a brat like you to learn their lesson. Every time you always end up begging for my cock, so why don't we just cut to the chase, and you can start begging for me now hmmm~" The black-haired male speaks.

You glare at him and speak clearly "'I'm not that weak. I'll last this time".

Soobin groans "'that's too bad baby, I was really hoping you would just play nice today. After all, I did just fly so long to see you. You just love to put up a fight huh?". You turn your head to look away from him, flustered at his dirty whispering, but in doing so you had opened your neck up for an impatient Soobin.

"Ah, ah, ah. You don't get to look where you want to!" He speaks, bringing your face back in his direction with his hand wrapped securely around your neck. "'do you know why you don't get to do what you want?" He asked, leaning further toward you. You shook your head, and he chuckles "because you are a bad girl, and bad girls don't get what they want". Soobin tuts and smirks "'I'd be more than happy to indulge your desires (Y/N), but only if you beg for it". He runs his other hand across your body teasingly, leaning back to keep his balance, his other hand still around your neck.

"this is your chance to tell me no baby, all I need to hear is the word and I'll stop" he tells you, waiting for you to tell him he could before he continues, which made instant confirmation fall from your mouth. He pulled your clothes of you then pulled his shirt over his head, pulling off his joggers, then positioning himself between your legs like a missionary position.

You shivered at your lack of clothes trying to pull Soobin close to you so you could be warm but he stayed in place "'no can do darling, if you weren't such a naughty girl you'd be warm hmm~" he teased, kissing up your stomach to your naked chest. His tongue flicked over your hardened nipple and the other one was caressed by his hand. "mmmm, Soobin don't tease-" you spoke, gripping his hair in your hand. He chuckled dryly and muttered "You don't get to make orders tonight, baby. I'll tease you if I want to". Your eyes grew wide at the feeling of his fingers on your clit all of a sudden, whilst also having one hand on a nipple, and his tongue on the other one.

You knew you were fucked when Soobin got this dominant, he was a switch normally so when he topped like this, you knew there was no helping you. You were absolutely fucked. Not that you mind, of course.

"Soobin, please your fingers" you spoke, trying to sound like you weren't begging but failing. He hummed against your nipple then pulled his mouth off with a soft bite before speaking in a deep gravelly voice, "'my fingers eh~ seeing as you asked with your manners....".

He then slowly eased your soaking hole with his finger so it'll be ready for him, but if he was honest he'd claim that he liked when you were so tight and he'd stretch you out with his cock. "Oh darling, you are so fucking wet, and all for me. God you are so cute" he groaned, feeling his fingers slide in with no problem. You moan at the feeling and he chuckles "OooHo, that never lasts long baby, you'll be screaming in no time. But today baby, you need to stay quiet okay, atleast do that correctly".

You threw your arm over your face in an attempt to hide the burning blush that attacked your face. He started to go faster and you groaned and whined, throwing your arm off your face and looking at Soobin. "'that's it baby, keep your eyes on me" he speaks. You let a loud whine out as he adds another finger and your eyes fall off of him and roll to look at the ceiling. "'no, I don't think so. Look at me!" Soobin tells you, reaching to slap a hand over your mouth so you'll be quiet.

You look back to him and notice his gaze never falling off of you. Soobin's eyes were on you the entire time and that only made you clench around him, the ache In your stomach tightening.

Noticing you were close Soobin removes his fingers from you and pulls his boxers off, flipping you over so you were on top of him. "'I mean it now baby, remember the word" he says and kisses you hard, letting you know it's perfectly okay to stop whenever you want. He holds his dick against your entrance and teases you. Soft moans slip out of your mouth at the feeling of Soobin stretching out your pussy with his tip when you feel his hands wander across your body. Soobin's head presses against your neck and he kisses down your skin, ready to make you cry from pleasure.

Soobin begins thrusting in and out of you, your own hand quickly coming up to your mouth to hold back any moans that fall from your lips. "Ughh~ yeah baby stay quiet for me~"Soobin whispers into your ear, encouraging you to be quiet, which he rarely ever does, as he slowly goes in and out of you. Your whimpering dies down and it turns into moaning causing Soobin to speak "Are you ready to prove that you can be good for me, baby?".

In return you whine "'yes... mmmm... yes".

Soobin wasn't pleased, his hands digging into your hips slightly as he spoke up "'then beg for my cock huh~".

You looked down at him and begged "'please, Soob, Fuck me, make me feel good. Fuck.... I'll be so good, I'm sorry for lying, fuck me, please" Your words dripped with desperation, and even Soobin seemed encouraged by your begging.

"'oh, that was pathetic (Y/N), you are such a slut for me" Soobin chuckled into your ear, starting to speed up.

The moans that had died down as he demanded you to beg, had returned as he started thrusting into you faster, the sounds of wetness and skin slapping together echoing through the entire room. "yeah, darling take my cock... just like that" Soobin spoke, keeping his grip on your hips. You could barely hear Soobin over the sound of your own breathing. But you could tell he muttered dirty words into your ear. "Ughh, my fucking slut, taking me so well..... such a good little thing".

Moans and whines slipped from your throat, straight into your hand, as you bounced on Soobin's big cock, and jolted forward from the motion of his big hand slapping against your ass. The second he realised that would only cause more noise he switched to placing his veiny hands on your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers. Your body grew hotter and hotter as his dick continued to slip in and out of your wet, tight hole.

In that moment, you muttered something as you leant against Soobin's shoulder, your body being jolted by the aggressive movement. "'please..... cum inside me", that is what you muttered, it was desperate just like every other word that had slipped out of your mouth in this moment. But this sentence was different, it held a deeper desire behind the words, one the boy knew all about.

Soobin had heard the words slip out of your mouth and slowed down for a second before speaking as clearly as he could "are you sure (Y/N)?". He didn't use a nickname or a pet name, he used your name, the desire to get through to your conscious as honest as your wish. You nodded the best you could and spoke up "'yes, please, I want a baby".

Soobin demanded, almost to himself "'okay Darling, I'll give you a baby.". Soobin groaned in pleasure and kept going, trying his best to let you know he will fulfil your request. No, that he wants to fulfil your request. He kept going for awhile until you were both close, at which point you collapsed against him, tired, and he spoke "Are you sure darling ?, he checked as he was going to cum and in response you let out a short "very...". As soon as the word had fell from your mouth his cum shot inside of you painting your walls white as you came on him.

You were catching your breathe when you attempted to climb of him but found that your body was to weak. Soobin rolled you over so you were underneath him and then he pulled out of you, kissing your stomach and mumbling "I love you so much my love". You ruffled his hair and spoke "I feel the same way Soobin.... I love you so much".

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ladykailitha · 4 months

Text

Batshit Soulmates: Prologue

Welp. That certainly got a reaction last time. We don't even start the story yet in this one. Sorry about that.

Just a bit of setup and world building here.

In Medias Res

***

Soulpairs were just one of those things you grew up knowing that eighty percent of the population had. It wasn’t special, or pretty, or unique, what it was, as far as Steve Harrington could figure, a giant pain in his ass. His parents were soulmates, one of the rare ‘true pairings’ where they couldn’t live without being in each other’s pockets 24/7.

Steve had gone throughout high school without meeting his soulmate. He knew that Nancy wasn’t it, but he still loved her anyway. He just wished she had been honest about who hers was, though. It would have saved Steve a lot of heartbreak in the long run.

Nancy had a little camera on her hip, which didn’t pair with his at all, especially considering his was on his forearm. He had seen it the first time they had sex. And every time afterwards, too. He still hadn’t connected the dots when he found out that Jonathan had been taking pictures of their first time.

He still hadn’t connected the dots when Nancy came back to Steve that December. He figured that she had just thought that Jonathan was it, but he wasn’t. He stupidly believed that until it was revealed Jonathan and she were soulmates after she had cheated on Steve.

It also hurt that he had watched all his kids (well, all but Erica, but she was too young for that sort of thing anyway) get their soulmates, too. Mike had Will, Dustin had Suzie, Lucas had Max...well, most of the time. Max had broken up with Lucas four times since they found out they were soulmates. She had seen the damage soulmates who were completely destructive could do. After all, her mother and Neil were soulmates.

Max had straight up ignored hers when it had began to glow. She had a basketball on her right ankle and when she met Lucas she straight up pretended it didn’t happen. Lucas was too struck by the pretty red-head to realize that the warmth on his ankle was anything more than his stupid socks slipping into his shoes again. His was a little skateboard on his ankle. But it wasn’t things with Billy had escalated that Max admitted she knew Lucas was her soulmate. Lucas had been a little hurt by that, but when Max explained that her exposure to soulmates hadn’t been good, he had been more understanding. He even took her to meet his parents so that she could see some good soulmates. It worked.

Most of the time.

Dustin had been super ecstatic when he came home from Math camp or whatever the hell it was babbling about how his little honey bee lit up when he met this girl with the molecular structure of honey on her shoulder, just like where his honey bee was. Steve admitted it was a little hard to believe that one, because supposedly she was from Utah. But when Dustin showed him the bright yellow glow around his bee, Steve had to own up to the fact; Dustin had gotten his soulmate before he did.

Mike and Will were little bit more complicated because it didn’t seem like their soulmarks matched. Will’s was a broad sword and Mike’s was a wizard’s staff. But Mike was the one that figured it out. Mike had always felt a warm feeling the middle of his chest when he was around Will but didn’t realize what it meant until Will moved to California. He knew that El wasn’t his soulmate because she didn’t have a soulmark. She was part of the 20% of the population that didn’t need a soulmate.

And then Steve met Robin. Beautiful, smart, witty Robin. She had to be his soulmate. But when she confessed that she knew who her soulmate was and that that person was in a relationship with a boy, Steve’s stomach sank. For both of them. If her soulmate wasn’t looking for her, that had to hurt. Robin showed him the clarinet on her right shoulder. And Steve showed her the bats on his right forearm. They weren’t soulmates in the strictest sense of the word, but they were anyway. Because Steve hadn’t met his and hers didn’t want her.

So everyone Steve knew had their soulmate, (even if in Robin’s case, Vickie didn’t seem interested) except him. So he did the only thing he could do, throw himself into working at Family Video and fob off flirting attempts. Most people who hadn’t found their soulmate yet covered their soumarks so that people wouldn’t leer at them. But Steve didn’t. He hoped that it would catch someone’s eye. The right person’s eye.

All that changed when the younger kids entered high school. They got in with this D&D club and all they would talk about was how awesome and cool their new DM was and how Steve would get along with him. Steve seriously doubted that. Eddie “The Freak” Munson made Steve his mortal enemy their senior year (a second go for Eddie). Even after his fall from grace, Eddie’s rants seemed to point directly to Steve.

The kids had taken to trying to set Steve up with everyone. Robin had been their longest target but when she pointed out that her soulmark wasn’t on her forearm, they were forced to give that one up. They tried so hard that Robin was sure that they had resurrected her You Rule/You Suck board from Scoops Ahoy.

One day around Christmas time, they were trying to set Steve up with someone he knew had a known soulmate that he told them to knock it off. He went out and bought the most expensive, high end soulpatch he could find. It was a soft and supple dark brown leather that was broader at the top than its base. Robin helped him set it so that Steve could easily put it on every morning and Steve did.

Most of the kids were grumpy with him about hiding his soulmark, but Dustin in particular was the worst. He kept going on and on about how happy he was now that he found Suzie and he just wanted Steve to find his soulmate. He just wanted him to be happy, Steve.

Steve was close to threatening to knock out the kid’s freshly in front teeth if he didn’t stop.

In hindsight, he really should have known better than to bet against that kid. If he had broadened his horizons to more than just girls, he probably would have hit on the right person almost immediately. Not that Steve was going to tell Dustin that. The kid’s ego was already too much of a problem.

Steve’s whole world turned upside down for the final time one horrible Saturday morning when Dustin burst into the Family Video demanding Steve help him find a clearly innocent Eddie Munson.

****

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

The reason El doesn't have/need a soulmate is that she is for all intents and purposes ace/aro. Much higher than our universe average, but meh.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #soulmate au #byler #jancy #robin x vickie #dustin/suzie #lumax

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peterparkersnose · 1 year

Text

Rough Day

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 1k (short but sweet)

warnings: death (not prominent character death), child abandonment, descriptions of medical terminology, not angst but reader is comforted by joel, defined relationship with reader x joel

a/n i cannot wait for the last of us, im writing so much joel content to feed you babes in late december/early january (and after jan 15 when the show airs) title is not to be compared to the iconic din djarin fanfiction, it just fit too perfectly to pass up and make a possible reference (update 01/16/23 first episode was brilliant. only word i can use to describe that masterpiece)

summary Y/N comes home after a hard day of working at med bay and Joel comforts her

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 3 mins 23 seconds

The walk home seemed longer tonight. Maybe it was because of the sheer exhaustion from not sleeping in almost days, or maybe it was just from the horrible day you had.

The vision of the woman with the fresh bite on her leg plagued your mind.

Her sobbing baby next to her made matters even worse.

The tourniquet didn’t work. The infection spread too fast. The woman didn’t even know she was bitten for days. How could you not notice an open wound on your leg?

How could Tommy had let someone into the compound who was clearly not well?

You shook your head as you fumbled through your keys to get the right one. It was silent. The crickets were even gone, nothing else moved except the flickering light on your porch.

Joel had to fix that one of these days.

The old door creaked open. The only light left on was the lamp Joel would leave on for you when nights like this would occur.

What time was it now- after 11? He would most definitely be asleep.

You kicked your boots to their place and set down your bag. Angry with the state of your scrubs, you began peeling your coat off and leaving it on the floor.

The stairs creaked slightly as you made your way up them. You pulled at your socks that clung to your feet. The bedroom door was left slightly ajar, you could see the lamp light peering through the crack.

Pushing the door slightly open, you found Joel propped up in bed with a book.

“Your still awake?” you asked, immediately taking the top of your scrubs off.

“You know I can’t fall asleep without you,” he said, a harmless dig at your absence lately.

You genuinely felt bad for being gone. It wasn’t your intention to work a double at the hospital wing and then have 3 people come in with all very serious problems.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, opening your drawer and searching for a comfy shirt.

Joel raised his brows in concern. Your tone was off. “Everything alright?” he asked, folding the corner of his page and slowly placing the book next to him.

Ignoring the question that would most definitely bring tears to your eyes if you answered, you changed into some of Joel’s old flannel pants that were two sizes too big.

You turned to the mirror in your bathroom, staring blankly at your toothbrush.

“Y/N?” he asked, the bed creaking as he sat on the edge. “Please don’t,” you whispered from the bathroom, finding the courage to turn on the water to brush your teeth.

Looking up from spitting out your toothpaste, you found him standing adjacent of you with a worried look on his face. Your eyes looked tired and he knew you had an awful day. Joel knew there was definitely a story behind that face causing your mood.

The stress of the day always seemed to fizzle out when you were around him.

“Come here,” he says, accepting your embrace. The tiny sniffles you gave broke his heart. He held you close to his chest. One hand rested on your head, another arm wrapped around your back.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen. She could have lived,” you choked out. “Mhm, I know baby. Let it out.” he sighed.

Joel didn’t have to know the story to understand what was happening. He felt the energy coming off of you. It was bad.

“Everything will be okay.” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get to bed now, hm? We both could use some sleep.” he said, placing his hand on your waist and walking with you towards the bed.

You anxiously sat at the edge of your bed as Joel turned off the hallway lights. He hated the look on your face when he returned. Zoned out, you stared at the tiny photo on the dresser of him and Sarah. His large body broke your trance, engulfing you in another hug. “Everything’s going to be alright. Stop lookin’ so pitiful,”

Your hands grabbed his hips and drew him closer. The scent of pine filled your nose. He had been on patrol earlier that day you assumed. His hand carefully rested on your head, stroking your hair. Your forehead sat against his stomach. Joel’s stomach gargled, causing you to let out a brief laugh.

“Get in,” he said playfully, tipping your shoulder back as you fell into bed.

“Gassy,” you whispered, bringing your eyes up to match his. He was standing over you, your knees in between his legs.

“What did you say now?” he asked, smirk on his face. His large frame fell over yours. You yelped as he caught himself with his forearms next to your body.

“Watch it,” he whispered in your ear. He showered your face in kisses as you squirmed. Using his body as a catapult, you forced yourself out under him. Finally free.

You scooted over to your side of the bed and curled into the smallest ball you could. Joel knew exactly what you wanted.

He pulled up the sheet quickly with a snap, and let it fall over you slowly. He knew you loved this.

“Pillows good?” he asked. You nodded, a small smile appearing on your face. “You need anything else while I’m up?”

“No. But thank you.”

He climbed slowly in next to you. Joel clicked off the lamp and moved in right next to you. It was almost as your body was fit to compliment his. You two matched perfectly.

“We can talk about it in the mornin’ if you’d like.” he offered. He felt your head nod against his chest.

“Goodnight darlin’,” he said, wrapping an arm around you. “I’m sorry today didn’t go well. Tomorrow will be good, I’ll make sure of it. We can make a day of it,”

A sigh of relief came from you. He always made things better. He was right. Tomorrow would be a better day.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @jmillerswife

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mins-fins · 23 days

Text

★̲ YOU HAVE ONE NEW VOICEMAIL FROM . . . 나재민 !

SEPTEMBER 9, 00:22 AM

HI BABY!! okay um before you purge me and murder my entire family i'm sorry for not calling you yesterday.. it was after the first show and i was exhausted but anyway, how was the concert? did you enjoy it? do you think i did well? do you—[a small shout is heard from behind him] I AM NOT "WHIPPED" SHUT UP! ignore chenle he doesn't know what he's talking about, is it bad that i love my dear partner so much? he's just sad and lonely—AM NOT!— ARE TOO! STOP YELLING AT ME!! you're gonna come tomorrow right? if work doesn't keep you in that is, god i hate your job, and i miss you, i miss you so bad, it's going to be hard to do this when international tour dates start, all we have connecting us is some stupid phone..[another shout is heard from behind him] OKAY FINE! it's too late, we have to wake up early tomorrow, alright bye i love you! sleep well!

NOVEMBER 23, 22:45 PM

haechan totally tried to trip me on stage today, that little shit..anyway, hi baby!! sorry for the like— two calls every week but it's been so hard to find alone time for myself these days, i really like japan though, we should come here sometime for a trip! just me and you, maybe on one of my breaks, if i can even get one. i miss you, having jeno as company is beginning to get boring, i mean, i love jeno obviously but i see him every single day!! i'm literally about to go insane without you here, i'm about to pay for your flight here and make up some excuse to your manager about a family issue or something.. will they even believe that? i don't care, it's been a while since we went anywhere together, just the two of us, also, did i tell you your mom called me? apparently she really liked our performance, she called me to tell me about it!! anyway um, i have no time left, hope you have a good night, i love you!!

NOVEMBER 26, 02:09 AM

jeno snores way too loudly, so no sleep for me, and he also complains so much about everything so now i have to whisper for this, but anyway, i know you're probably asleep as well so it doesn't matter if i send this cause you'll see it in the morning but i don't care! whoops, right, whispering. i can't believe that you can't come to the shows, it's all sooooo boring without you. i always search for you in the audience but then i don't see you and i get upset, you being in the crowd would make everything much better, hopefully you can at find time to get here before the final japanese show this year.. is this corny? i don't think so, i just— i miss you, i say that all the time but i do, a lot. um yeah that's all, i should probably sleep now, i love you!

DECEMBER 2, 21:37 PM

I KNEW YOU HAD SOME STUPID PLAN! i can't believe i didn't even notice you sneaking up on me that was….. i can't start, i'll go on and on forever. how did you even get backstage? did you talk to mark or something? i don't know i guess i'm just— i'm just very surprised, you didn't even tell me anything! i'm not going to lie.. it was such a smart plan, i'm glad you were able to make it, seeing you again was so nice i almost cried having to let go of you, and yeah i tried to contain myself in front of the members but i couldn't, they had to get it though! because when you're partner is right there you can't just stand there and be normal, i did mean to trap you in that hug! god being able to wrap my arms around you again was so nice, you give such good hugs you know? i know you won't be here for long but let's make the most of our time together okay? i'm happy you're here, alright i have to go now, good night, i love you.

DECEMBER 10, 09:30 AM

hi hi!! happy to say that i will be back soon! don't be surprised if i just randomly show up in your house one day, world famous idol na jaemin in your kitchen, making himself some coffee, you might have a heart attack, i hope i don't scare you again, not like that one time after hot sauce promotions ended.. your face was hilarious, i'm sorry for that one baby, i was really just trying to surprise you.. anyway, tour picks back up in february, so we have time to be idiots and go on stupid dates, get chased down by the staff.. okay maybe not that, the last time they almost caught us was funny though. alright um— just wanted to tell you i'll be back soon! i'll make sure to pass by a convenience store and get you ice cream, and yes i'll remember to get cookie dough this time, still not sure what you have against strawberry..alright that's it! i'll see you soon, i love you!!

#na jaemin #nct #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenarios #nct dream x reader #jaemin imagines #jaemin drabbles #jaemin scenarios #jaemin x reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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saerotonins · 4 months

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tied red strings of fate

ft. gojo satoru x gn!reader

request: omg .. tadhana by udd + satoru please ?

content warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, jjk manga spoilers [ch 236], canon divergent, implied that reader knows about curses but is not a sorcerer, lowkey a character analysis but yeah, happy ending

wc: 1283

note: when i saw this request i was so happy because tadhana* is literally one of my fave opm classics! also, im sorry nonnie if this was long overdue, figured i'd give him some fluff at his death "anniversary" heh (albeit a little late). i miss our glorious king sm :(( happy holidays 🎀

song: tadhana-up dharma down

*tadhana=destiny

gojo satoru is a force to be reckoned with. his name rings a bell and brings shivers to the spine of any potential enemies he has.

he's gojo satoru, the strongest of all, the holy grail of jujutsu sorcery. he's gojo satoru, whose power literally repels and divides everyone else and him.

but to you, he's a lover, a man of his own, an independent being who is capable of emotions. he's satoru. the love of your life.

so when he decided to call it quits, to say you were devastated is an understatement. you were left broken, calling out his name at night hoping he would appear in front of you just one, for closure. him closing the chapter of your book got you weeping and yearning for more of him.

because even though he's your lover, even you have a hard time of catching a glimpse of who he really is. satoru is an open book, but he's hard to understand. you did all your best to ease him and make him open up, show more of himself to you, bare his truth, the good, the bad, and the ugly, all of them you're willing to accept.

alas, the universe has other plans, the challenge ended even before it began, he is most definitely an enigma, someone that you will probably never get to solve. satoru's backed turned against you was a sight you are never going to forget. you spent months moving on and try to live a life where he isn't yours. it's hard but you try to manage anyway.

so when a knock on your door was heard by the 31st of december, you didn't expect gojo satoru in his full glory standing before you. as shocked as you are, you see his eyes had sunken. he's beyond exhausted but when he sees you, his eyes lighten up and you feel the warmth of his arms and your feet off the floor. you miss this, you miss him, it was all so familiar and something you very much miss. every fiber of your being remembered the way he touched you, triggered by the way his hands gripped onto your waist for dear life. as confused as you are, you reciprocated his gesture, opting to rest your hand on his shoulder blades.

"satoru?" you managed to voice our before you feel him put you down but his embrace remain. he then rests his head on the crook of your neck, then you hear him sniffle. suddenly you feel something drop onto your skin. his tears slowly roll from his face to your neck and shoulders.

satoru's lips wobbles as he tries to contain himself but to know avail, he lets his cries out, deciding to bare himself to you and be vulnerable. he was so so so tired of fighting. as great as the title 'the strongest' sounds, it gets too lonely even for him. being on the top is lonely. and he knows it himself.

he'd rather fall from grace than live a life where he isn't yours. he was too late to realize it. he was so stupid, too cocky, too condescending that it took him facing death before realizing that he wants to live, just for you. so when he finally defeats the evils of the jujutsu world, his first thought is you. the only one who provided light in his dark and desolate world.

as charming and bright satoru is, he is often left in the shadows in the cave but when he came to know you, he was absolutely in love and smitten. you were like a fresh breath of air to him. but when he decides that creeping into your mundane and simple life would rather be selfish of him. someone cursed like him shouldn't be able to be with someone who is blessed and down to earth like you.

but being selfish be damned, he had faced battles, including one that almost left him biting the dust. he wants you, he needs you in his life and letting you go was definitely a mistake, something that he will never do ever again.

when his cries had calmed down, you finally get his voice again after a long time. "i'm so sorry," satoru started. "i was an idiot, i love you so much and i never stopped loving you. i was so stupid to let you go, i have never loved someone as much as i did with you." satoru knows his worth is probably lesser than any other being the moment he let you go, the only pillar who provided stability and balance in his life. he was impulsive, too proud, and too strong. but the way you held him every time you caged him into your arms is like he was fragile, someone to be protected, someone to cherish.

satoru loved that. and he was stupid to think that was worth letting go.

knowing you has made him scared of death, an entity or event that could break the two of you apart and live in separate worlds, and he couldn't bare to face it. he loves you too much to let himself go and so he fought with you in mind and thank any deity that exists, he finally won.

gojo satoru is the strongest.

so seeing him crumble right before your very eyes as his knees meet the concrete is a shock. he had bowed before you first before he had bowed to any higher up. hell, satoru bowing before anyone else would come as a shock. he held onto your ankle for support, his voice begging to take him back as he spews even more apologies that he can manage.

"please, please, i'm so sorry darling, i'll do what it takes for you to take me back. i love you so much, no other human had made me feel this way, please i'm so sorry. i miss you so much, god, i can't even remember a life before you, please." satoru had begged, begged, and begged, his voice getting louder and louder and each increased volume of his voice his hurt is more evident.

with the way his voice cracked broke your heart, and that's when you knew he meant every single letter, every syllable, every drop of tear, and every breath of his apology.

you had completely broken the strongest. but satoru doesn't mind. even if you break him a thousand times, he'd painstakingly pick up every single piece of himself to present it to you. and that's what he's doing right now.

"i forgive you 'toru," he barely hears you say through his wails and it slowly comes to a halt. he then lost the feel of your ankles as he sees you kneel yourself to his level. your hands reached to touch his face and there you see his eyes, glassed with tears, love, and regret. satoru feels the heat of your hands on his cheeks and his instincts leaned into it. "i was hurt, but i'm never mad, i just wished you'd tell me why," his heart broke when he heard your voice crack.

"but you're hear now, right? we can fix this, we can fix us." you say as you carefully wipe the tears on his face. satoru nodded as he holds your wrists and caress his thumb on it. "yeah, we'll fix us."

"together?"

"together," satoru said in confidence.

and with a light heart, satoru leans in to catch your lips on his, sealing his silent promise to never hurt you ever again, or he will never get to forgive himself.

he's gojo satoru.

he'll always find a way back into your arms.

another note: i'm quite unsure with the ending but this is all that i got 😔 i hope this was on par with your expectations nonnie hehe 🫶🏻

#🧤muse: satoru #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x yn #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk x reader

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prolix-yuy · 1 year

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On the Right Flight

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

Summary: A long flight with a gorgeous neighbor takes a hard turn when you get on his favorite subject - Nicholas Cage.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, allusions to sex, PiV sex, brief hint of voyeurism, lots of fantasizing, we are Looking Disrespectfully, plenty of sweetness dumped on top.

Notes: I had the worst writers block for this, but then went on a plane and remembered all the fun/not fun things about flying. Plus traveling for the holidays would be greatly improved with a dose of Javi.

I apologize for one moment and one moment only in this story. You'll know what I mean when you get there.

Cross-posted on AO3

For once, you pray to the gods of airline transportation, let there be no one in the window seat.

It’s futile, you know. It’s LA to Boston and you’ve never seen an empty seat, but you’re hoping that this one time you’ll get a little respite. You’re already fed up with having to pay extra for an emergency row seat, no other options left on the only flight that gets you to your parents in time. Then the dread of endless questions about your work (fine), love life (dismal) and future plans (???) just adds to your crankiness. It’s the holidays, you’re going home, and you could use a holiday miracle.

At least the expansive legroom is a plus.

You like LA, but no snow in December is weird. Growing up in places where snowfall is a guarantee makes you miss it all the more when towering evergreens are carted into the Grove and fake snow looks strangely post-apocalyptic against a 75 degree sunny day. It doesn’t feel right without the tip of your nose being perpetually cold and a scarf devouring you from shoulder to chin.

Plus you still have a handful of presents to get, and the anticipation of a long flight is making you antsy about your procrastination. There are still a couple days, but one present has eluded you this year and you’re getting desperate.

“Excuse me.”

A polite voice, Spanish accented, lifts over the murmurs and rumbles of the plane. Your heart sinks briefly.

“Sorry, is this your seat?” you ask, sliding your shoulder bag out of the way before getting a good look at the man waiting in the aisle.

And you do get a good look.

A long one.

Probably uncomfortably long.

But holy hell he’s gorgeous.

He definitely doesn’t belong in coach, and if the cogs in your brain could turn at all you might have asked him if he was in the right aisle, but instead you numbly stare as he steps around your knees. He nods with a tight smile, tucking his elbows and broad shoulders as he squashes into the small window seat. Against the dull beige and navy of the walls and seats he’s a cream and maroon dream, a lightweight striped jacket barely zipped over a white shirt. Tan chinos hug his thick thighs as he twists to find the seat belt, a tiny slip of his tan stomach peeking out. You look up desperately at the flight attendant, whose expression is almost as shocked as yours, before settling back into your seat.

Six and a half hours next to this golden god might actually be a Christmas miracle, but not one you’d ever dream to wish for.

You follow basic plane etiquette, pretending he isn’t there as you arrange your belongings just how you like them. Without a seat directly in front of you most of your supplies remain stuffed in your bag - a bottle of water, your iPad loaded with movies and tv shows, snacks easily in reach, headphones at the ready. You do sneak a peek at your seatmate’s luscious caramel curls, the intriguing curve of his nose, the perfect dip above his chin where pursed lips tempt.

Stop it, you scold yourself, you’re not in a goddamn Hallmark movie.

“Sorry,” comes that rich voice again, heavily apologetic as he waves to get your attention. Pretending you just noticed him - very smooth, you praise yourself - you turn and nod with your best people-pleaser smile. “I am not sure how to make all this work,” he sighs, mouth downturned and brow knitted. A wild gesture to the lack of a tray table, or entertainment display, makes you bite back a smile.

Hot and hopeless? Oh no.

“The tray is in the armrest, you have to flip it out. Same for the TV screen. The headphone jack is here,” you indicate quietly, though your elderly aisle neighbor is not paying much attention, “and you can plug in your phone here,” you add, tapping at the ports in the armrest. His face lights up, then falls when he fails to have the correct cable. You’re not normally this forward with someone you just met, but there’s something about the fish out of water routine that’s making you bold.

“Here, you can share mine, I won’t need it much for the flight,” you offer, fishing the other end of your cord out of your bag. The man’s face breaks into relief - you’ve never seen so many expressions in such a short time - before he thanks you over and over. It makes heat tingle at the tips of your ears and the back of your neck.

“You must think I am quite foolish,” he murmurs when he finally settles into his seat, wincing at the stiffness.

“Don’t fly coach much?” you ask, fighting your smirk when he throws up his hands, the gesture too big for the tiny space he’s occupying.

“Can you believe every plane was booked for two weeks? My assistant barely got me on this one!” he groans, and the tiniest part of you loves the plight of an obvious mucky-muck living like the plebeians. His face turning to you, capturing you in an intensely focused gaze, dries out your mouth.

“You are laughing,” he states, more incredulity heaped on. You can’t help the smile and snort that eke out of your unwilling mouth.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…you gotta know how silly that sounds,” you say, flight attendants beginning safety demonstrations in the aisle. You lower your voice further. “My assistant had to book me in coach because it’s three days before Christmas, oh the humanity!”

For a moment you’re nervous you’ve offended him, the blank expression he pins you with making you fiddle with your fingers. Then he covers his face, a thick gold pinky ring only adding to the ridiculousness of the situation.

“You are right, I sound like the worst sort of person. My apologies, I will try to be a better seat-mate.” You shake your head, waving your hand at his apology before settling back into the seat. “I’m Javi, by the way,” he says, and you give him your name in return. He repeats it back to you, along with another few apologies, before leaning over to finish settling himself for the flight. The plane begins taxing, and the telltale rumble of the jets lulls you into closing your eyes.

Your right arm is warm, pressed against something amazingly comfortable. Considering snuggling into it, you’re shocked awake remembering you’re on a plane and you’ve accidentally slumped against the golden man - Javi’s - arm.

“Sorry,” you whisper, straightening, but he only smiles (holy shit can he get more attractive?) and shrugs.

“We are all on this plane together, what is a little touch?” he whispers back before returning to scrolling through an iPad. His is bigger, the nice pro version that’s almost the size of an actual computer. You begin to settle back into your plane nap when a hefty list of titles flash by.

“That’s a lot of Nic Cage,” you comment sotto voce, the rumble and white noise of the plane keeping your conversation relatively private. Javi looks at you blankly, one eyebrow quirked.

“He is my favorite actor,” he says, and the seriousness of this statement bleats a little laugh from your lips. This furrows his brow further, though his eyes do dart to your mouth briefly.

“Sorry, it’s not funny, it’s just…serendipity,” you say, adding more confusion to Javi’s face. You wave your hands, centering yourself.

“You celebrate Christmas?” you ask, and he nods, confused. “Okay, so every Christmas I’ve got this tradition with my sister. It all started one year when she said she didn’t like Nic Cage movies.”

“How could she dislike one of the greatest actors in film history?” Javi interrupts, now half perched in his seat and animated, hands flying. It makes you lose your train of thought, those soft brown eyes now shockingly sharp. You swallow once before continuing.

“I don’t think she hates him or anything, she just thinks he’s silly, and plays a lot of goofy roles.” At this Javi flops back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face. The dramatics are making you giddy, a frenetic energy barely contained in your body as you try not to disturb the quiet travelers surrounding you.

“Has she never seen Raising Arizona? Con Air?” he interrogates, counting several more movies you didn’t even know he was in. Shrugging, you watch his face fall.

“She got through Ghost Rider and Face/Off before she called it quits,” you say, shoulders shaking at the exasperation rolling off his broad ones.

“Please don’t tell me you feel the same,” Javi pleads. You shake your head.

“He’s made some…questionable choices, but I unironically love Lord of War, and National Treasure is just fun to watch,” you say, the flight attendants starting beverage service.

“Thank goodness,” he grumbles, folding up his iPad to have enough space. The flight attendant moves to take drink orders, a professional smile following, “Something for you?”

“Champagne,” Javi says, almost off-hand, which shoots the flight attendant’s eyebrows up to his hairline. Warmed by conversation, you test a tease.

“You’re not in first class anymore, Toto, try a vodka.” Javi’s cheeks pink, but he does order a vodka soda instead. You begin to order a ginger ale when Javi interrupts.

“No no, it’s a long flight, you should have a drink too,” he says, the confused flight attendant’s eyes darting between your conversation.

“Oh no, that’s all right…”

“You drink, yes?”

“I do.”

“Then you should have a drink.”

“I, uh…”

Javi addresses the flight attendant directly, and where embarrassment radiated off him before is now confidence.

“She’ll have a drink on me,” he says definitively, and when he catches your eye there’s a sweet smile that makes your heart pound. “You should have a drink with me.”

Moments later you’re sipping on your own vodka soda and the flight attendant is giving you an approving nod as he moves on to the next row.

“So your sister does not like Nic…” Javi prompts, your story brought back to the forefront sharply.

“Yes, right! So after she told me this, I was looking for her Christmas present and found this ridiculous pillow on Amazon that I had to get her. It’s sequins, and when you brush them a certain way…”

“...you can see a photo of Nic,” Javi finishes, to your surprise. “I have the same one.”

“Get out, you do not!” you reprimand, the vodka starting to warm your blood and loosen your tongue.

“I do! It’s part of my collection.”

“You have a collection?!”

The next half hour is spent slowly sipping your drink and enjoying the hell out of Javi’s extensive Nic Cage collection, complete with photos. The wax statue is a little much, but the golden guns are pretty badass. You’re half distracted with Javi’s proximity, leaned in to flip through his photos, shoulder to shoulder. Tart orange peel and the clean musk of some expensive cologne engulfs your senses. Add the relaxing effects of the booze and you’re actively trying not to cuddle up to this stranger with an insane amount of movie memorabilia.

“But you have not told me what your sister and Nic have to do with Christmas?” Javi finally says, leaning back in his seat and finishing his drink.

“Okay, okay, so after that first Christmas it’s a tradition every year. I get her some silly Nic Cage thing, she pretends to get mad about it, and we all have a good laugh. So far it’s been the pillow, a shirt, a mug, and a really awful coloring book.” Javi shakes his head and laughs, catching the flight attendant’s eye to bring another round of drinks. You’re pretty sure that’s not how it works in coach, but Javi’s charisma gets him two nips and two glasses of ice palmed to him surreptitiously. If only you had that charm.

“So what is the gift this year? Pants? Shoelaces?” he teases, pouring your drinks.

“That’s the problem! I haven’t found it yet! I’ve looked everywhere for the perfect gift and I am coming up empty!” You slump back in your seat, accepting the second drink with a wry smile. “I’m gonna break my streak.”

“I may be able to help you with that,” Javi says with a sly little smile, looking at you over the top of his cup.

“Something out of your collection? I’m sure you’ve got some fun things in there you’re not showing me,” you say, altitude and alcohol making that come out flirtier than you expected.

“Even better. I know Nic,” he says, beginning a standoff between your incredulous face and his smug one.

“You’re joking.”

“I wrote a screenplay, he was the lead. We’re good friends.”

You have to bury your mouth in your elbow to keep from screeching like a pterodactyl.

“You’re fucking with me, really?”

“He came and stayed at my home. He’s an incredible man - talented, kind, humble, funny. I could call him up the second we land and have him record something for your sister. It would be the ultimate gift.”

You have to admit, that would be incredible. A personalized message from Nic Cage himself? Your sister would shit a brick. You would win Christmas for sure.

“And what would you want in return for being my Christmas miracle?” you ask, but Javi only shakes his head good-naturedly.

“Only the pleasure of your company,” he says breezily. You scoff at that.

“I don’t think my company is quite worth that.”

“I do.”

The air thickens around you, not daring to look up and see what expression Javi is wearing. Instead you let your finger run the circuit of your cup rim, hot flashes bursting along your collar. Your heartbeat thuds with twin thoughts - yes yes yes and not worthy.

Some air would probably do you good. You excuse yourself to the restroom and lock the door firmly behind you.

The tiny plastic sink is grounding under your hands, the hum of alcohol in your blood receding. A glance at yourself in the mirror makes you grimace - disheveled, tired eyes, rumpled loungewear that suits plane travel but not handsome strangers chatting you up. You splash a little water on your face, fortifying yourself for the return to your seat. Anyways, Javi’s out of your league, fun only because you’re trapped in a plane together. He clearly has money or comes from money, and once outside this pressurized tube you’d never be able to hold a candle to the life he has.

So stop fucking fantasizing about what you would do if he opened that door right now and joined you in this tiny bathroom. If he’d be soft and sweet, plying you with passionate kisses as he lifted you to balance on the edge of the sink. Or maybe those flashes of focus you kept glimpsing were signs of a man who would fuck you hard and fast, time a factor but attentive to your pleasure. Would he urge you to bite down on his shoulder to muffle your cries before he spills his seed on your inner thighs?

Are you fucking rhyming now?

Sighing, you open the door and run almost directly into the man himself, a sheepish smile on his face. Your face is on fire, nodding and smiling as you pass in the tiny space outside the bathroom. Returning to your seat you try to center yourself, but a tap on your arm directs you to your forgotten aisle neighbor. She smiles conspiratorially.

“He’s single,” she says simply, eyes sparkling, and you share a secret giggle at her wingmanning your chance encounter. “And he’s clearly interested, trust me. If you don’t get his number you’ll be kicking yourself later,” she adds before going back to her show. Javi returns soon after, a few wet trails in his hair and a fresh face.

“It is not so bad in coach,” he muses, pulling out his iPad and opening up his library.

“Even without the champagne?” you toss back, getting your own entertainment set up. The distance beginning to grow between you dampens your mood, fingers uncertain as they fiddle with the tech.

“Even without the champagne,” Javi sighs back with a wink. He scrolls through and settles on something before looking up at you, lips parted around a question. You wait with baited breath.

“Do you…want to watch a movie with me?” he asks tentatively. “I was going to watch a favorite of mine, if you want me to AirDrop it to you?”

Heart fluttering but trying to keep your cool, you nod. “What movie?”

“Paddington 2.”

After all the Nic Cage talk, this takes you by surprise.

“I’ve never seen it.”

Javi’s face breaks out in joy.

“Then we have to watch it.”

How could you say no to that smile?

Syncing pressing play, you both settle in to watch the children’s movie. It’s honestly really good, Javi occasionally leaning over to whisper commentary in your ear. The tickle of his breath against the baby hairs along your nape is a delicious shudder you savor.

After Paddington 2, it’s airline lunch, which Javi pokes at with an mistrusting face. You share some snacks between you as he queues up National Treasure, “the perfect movie for flying,” which leads you to debate whether that title should belong to Con Air.

It’s halfway through the movie (which still stands up after all these years) when your eyelids begin to pull, settling deeper into your uncomfortable seat. Javi peeks through his lashes, sliding a little closer.

“If you would like to close your eyes, you can lean on me,” he says with gentle hesitancy.

“Don’t want to be a bother,” you protest, a yawn interrupting further thoughts. Javi gives you that soft smile you don’t feel worthy of receiving.

“What is a little touch between friends?” he says, an echo of his previous sentiment.

Everything, you think to yourself before resting your head against his warm shoulder.

You dream of Javi between your legs in the plane bathroom, holding you tight to his chest as he fills you with his cock. He is whispering movie trivia to you, punctuating his thrusts with facts your mind can’t grip. Legs spread wide, head bumping against the mirror behind you, he pushes you higher and higher, hips snapping into your core. The door opens - Nic Cage pokes his head in, asking Javi about changes to a script. Javi pulls back to talk to him as he keeps fucking you senseless, swapping ideas as your orgasm hovers on the precipice. He turns back to your pleading face before absentmindedly licking his thumb and pressing it on your clit.

“Want to watch her cum, Nic?” he asks, your eyes rolling back in your head.

A jolt of turbulence shocks you awake, your body in unbalanced arousal from that confusing dream. A wide palm strokes along your forearm, Javi’s rumbling hum right next to your ear.

“It is okay, conejita,” he murmurs, your mind blearily taking in how far you’ve leaned on him, his hand on your arm, his mouth moving against the crown of your head. “Only a few bumps, you can sleep.”

“What’s conny…” you mumble, but close your eyes at his urging. He breathes a puff of air into your scalp.

“You twitch your nose when you’re sleeping, like a bunny,” he says, hand slowing to only his thumb caressing your skin. Humming in response, you slip back under, thankfully into a dreamless sleep.

You’re not sure how long it’s been when you finally rise, neck stiff and fingers tingling. Javi’s watching something in black and white, a man and a woman having an animated conversation. Straightening up, you wipe the corner of your mouth and pray you didn’t drool.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Javi teases, “they said we should be landing in an hour.” The rapidly approaching deadline makes you wish you hadn’t passed out, even if it was the most comfortable you’ve ever been on a plane. You want to ask Javi more about himself, the life he leads, the movies he loves. But the flight attendants are making the rounds, stilling your tongue. This is only a chance meeting, nothing more.

The landing is smooth and uneventful, both of you watching the Boston skyline come into view. You ask Javi if he’s ever been before and when he responds in the negative you point out popular landmarks, the Leonard Zakim Bridge the easiest to spot.

De-boarding is always a mess, but with the extra legroom it’s easy to get your carry-on out quickly. Javi helps you get it down, pulling his own out as well. You stand and stretch your legs, admiring how Javi's shirt pulls across his back while he packs his belongings.

With nods and smiles and “thank yous” said on the way out, you’re free from the tight confines and in the open air of Logan. It’s nothing fancy, but it feels like homecoming whenever you enter the familiar airport.

“Walk you to baggage claim?” you ask, Javi’s expression blooming from uncertainty to agreement. You savor the last dregs of conversation, Javi telling you he’s visiting family friends on the Cape for a few weeks. The time to part is nearing, but you don’t know what you want to ask. For his email? His number? Could you really ask for anything?

Bags in hand and a man in a suit with a printed “Gutierrez” sign looking pointedly at Javi, you finally square up to your unlikely friend.

“Thanks for a fun flight, I can’t say I’ve had a better one,” you start, Javi waving his hands in protest.

“A pleasure for me as well.” The awkwardness mounts as Javi’s driver fidgets impatiently. Girding yourself, you speak.

“I should probably…”

“I need your number.”

Javi’s blurted out request stops your goodbye, eyes widening. His do too as he stumbles to explain, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“For the video! From Nic. For your sister. I promised, didn’t I? And you were very good company, I must keep up my side of the deal,” he rushes out, flushing high in his cheeks. You couldn’t stop beaming if you tried.

“Yeah, you’re right, you’re gonna help me win Christmas for sure,” you say, typing your number into his phone. Relief dances in his eyes as you hand the phone back, sending a quick “It’s Javi” text to you. “You only have three days to get it, though, you’re on the clock.”

“Nic will come through, I know it,” he says, hands wrapping around your upper arms. He hesitates, then pulls you into a hug that blocks out the sweat and grime and frustration of the world around you. Orange peel and warmth fill your nostrils, and you hug him back, face tucking under the light scruff of his jaw. He holds you for longer than you expect but just long enough to know you’ll miss being hugged like this.

“Take care, conejita,” he says, watching you over his shoulder as he leaves. You wait for him to be out of sight before heading on your way.

Christmas morning, after all the presents are opened, coffee is drunk and cheer is spread, you pair your phone to your parent’s TV and play a video message.

“Hi Clara, this is Nic Cage. My friend Javi told me you were one of my biggest fans. Now I don’t know if you can compete with him, but if he says so I have to think it’s at least a little bit true. So to my biggest fan, Merry Christmas, happy holidays, happy new year, and if you’re ever nearby I owe you a photo, a handshake, and some thanks for all your support. Take care.”

Your sister is in stitches, laughing on the floor and interrogating you about how you pulled it off. For now, your lips are sealed.

The other video message, sent right after, you keep as your own Christmas present.

“I told you he would come through, conejita! Merry Christmas, I hope you are spending it with the ones you love. Maybe we will be on the same flight back to LA and I will get to see you again? Or...ah, I have no plans for New Years…and you know, it’s bad luck to start the new year without a kiss. If you…would like to be mine, this year, maybe I can take you out. Yes. I would like to take you out. Please. If you want. Okay, let me…let me know. Okay, bye.”

You would very much like that.

END

Part 2: A Bearable Weight

#javi g x f!reader #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi g x you #javi g x female reader #javi gutierrez x you #prolix fics

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lovelytsunoda · 4 months

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tell me something girl (are you happy in this modern world) // tom “iceman” kazansky

summary: after thirty years of marriage, heather kazansky reflects on the time she spent and the love she shared with tom as she prepares to write her eulogy and say goodbye to her husband.

pairing: tom kazansky x wife!oc (named heather)

warnings: canon character death (Tom) and mentions of gooses death from the original movie, depictions of grief, mentions of mental health and medication,

authors note: this is the fic I firmly believe I was put on this earth to write. I wanted to do so much more with it, but honestly would have ended up with like 16k words or something like that.

April 2022, Miramar, California.

“is that the admirals wife?”

“jake, shut the fuck up.”

heather kazasnky had never thought of herself as an impressive woman. she always found herself timid, shy and a little anxious. it wasn’t until the first offshoots of gray started to sprout in her hair, and she’d watched all three of her children grow up that she truly thought sh had done something impressive with her life.

she sat alone at a table in the corner of the hard deck, oblivious to the wandering eyes of her husbands trainees as her slender fingers navigated the keyboard of her MacBook.

“heather?”

she started at the voice, cheeks marred with the flush of someone who had just been sobbing as she turned to look at the speaker.

“peter,” she hummed. “it’s good to see you, maverick.”

heather got to her feet, pulling the other pilot in for a tight hug. “nice to see you too, heather. how are you doing.”

“the best I can. the kids are supposed to be coming up tonight to help with the funerals.”

there were always going to be two funerals. the first was the formal military funeral, where her husband would be buried in the same cemetery as nick bradshaw, and the other was more like a reception, something more human and less structured. for the people who knew him not as admiral kazansky, but as tom.

“I miss him, mav. the house feels strange without him in it. I’ve spent so long being heather kazansky, I don’t know how to go back to being just heather.”

maverick shook his head, taking a seat next to her. “you’re still you, heather. you’re still a mother to three incredible kids, and grandmother to two.”

“with another on the way.” she coughed, somehow managing a smile. “joshua’s new girlfriend is expecting. he told tom before he died.”

“congratulations, heather. how are the kids doing?”

“as well as can be expected. as usual, mitchell is the glue holding us together. cassie’s a wreck. she always was her father’s daughter. and for it to happen so soon after she had jamie just seems cruel. tom was going to retire, did you know that? he was ready to put his papers in, we were going to go to greece. it was finally us time again. he gave so much of himself to this country, and I was so excited to finally have him back.”

pete rested a hand on heathers shoulder, squeezing it through the fur of her cardigan. she was strong despite her age, still well built and sturdy, face marred with laugh lines but not a single telltale old woman wrinkle. “I’m so sorry, heather.”

“thank you.”

she turned back to her laptop, showing the other pilot what she was doing. “I’m gathering pictures for the reception. but most of them are of me. tom always had his fucking camera with him. I should have let the kids do this part. all I’m doing is making myself cry.”

she cast her eyes back to her laptop screen, resisting the urge to reach out and run her finger over the photo, soaking in the good memories as they came flooding back. in the picture, she and tom stood on one side of the kitchen counter, laughing with each other as they cut gingerbread cookies.

it had been their first christmas together.

“oh my god,” maverick laughed. “is that iceman in a cable knit?”

“he was so nervous about meeting my dad for the first time. I had to talk him out of wearing his dress whites.”

December 1985, Richmond, Virginia.

they had been together for six months, give or take the few weeks his team had spent deployed in the gulf, and nothing had intimidated tom kazansky more than meeting his girlfriends father. he had wanted to wear his navy dress whites in an attempt to make a good impression before heather had laughed and made him change into jeans and a sweater before they left the apartment.

even then, he had changed sweaters four times before setting on the white cable knit he was currently wearing.

iceman knew how stressed his girl got during the holidays. her family could bring out the worst in her, and they were both highly strung when they walked in the door.

now, she was off to the side with her sister, cradling a mug of hot coco in her hands as she watched him with a smile, chuckling as he dropped a cup of flour down the front of his jeans.

“you really like him, don’t you?”

heather looked back at her sister, who raised her eyebrows as she took a sip of her hot chocolate.

“I do. I really do, abigail. he makes me feel like I’m worth loving, if that makes sense. everything with tom is just so…easy.”

abigail frowned. “he’s a lieutenant, isn’t he? that means he’s going to be deployed a lot. are you sure you can handle that?”

heather sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “we’re trying. he was out in the gulf for a few weeks in september, and we got through it.”

“he’s barely taken his eyes off you since you got here. and when he looks at you, I don’t see anything other than pure, unfiltered love. I bet he’s got a polaroid of you in his cockpit.”

heather laughed, a warm and giddy feeling in her chest. it was clear how much her family loved iceman, and how quickly they were welcoming him into the fold.

“you know I’m losing him for two months in the new year. he’s off to california, got into some fancy fighter jet training program.”

“you can still go see him, right?”

“yeah, I’ve got a few vacation days saved u- oh fuck.” heather cursed, thrusting her mug into abigail’s arms as she saw what her boyfriend was doing. “give me one second, I’ve gotta stop him from screwing up the gingerbread.”

she pushed up the sleeves of her jacquard sweater, socks skidding across the kitchen tiles as she loosely knotted her hair behind her head.

“kaz, sweetie, give me the rolling pin. you’ve gotta knead the dough.” she smiles softly, putting herself between the pilot and the counter.

one of tom’s flour coated hands came to rest as her waist, his chin on the top of her head as she watched her dip her hands into the bowl of flour, and proceed to knead the gingerbread dough by hand. her lovers hands came to rest over hers, his lips soft and warm against her skin as they kneaded the gingerbread dough together.

“see, you don’t always know everything, lieutenant.” she hummed giddily, running her thumb over his wrist.

“yeah, but I know I love you, and that’s all I need.” Tom laughed, gently using his finger to guide her head towards his and placing a soft kiss on her lips.

April 2022, Miramar, California.

heather paused, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "i loved that man so much, pete."

the hard deck was getting busier, off-duty pilots and seamen flooding in from the base at miramar as shifts changed for the day. heather knew all about the dagger squad and the hazy series of events that brought pete mitchell back to the academy, often having to speak for her husband in meetings once his first cancer operation had left him unable to speak for himself.

"auntie heather!" a familiar face looked over from the pool table. bradley bradshaw was a spitting image of his father, right down to the way that his moustache was trimmed.

for heather, it sometimes felt like seeing a ghost.

"brad!" she perked up, waving him over to the table. "how are you?"

when she first came to visit her husband at miramar, somethign about carole bradshaw had pulled heather in. she hadn't known the bradshaw's long, but by the time that goose's accident happened, she felt like she had known that family her whole life.

she did what she could to help carole out afterwards, especially when it came to raising bradley, but as rooster got older and time flew by, it was so easy for carole and heather to fall out of touch.

"you look just like your dad." she hummed, hugging the pilot. "it's like seeing nick again."

bradley nodded solemnly. "i was sorry to hear about admiral kazansky."

"thank you. it had been a long time coming, but there's no way to properly prepare to lose the man you love."

rooster gestures to the group behind him, the mismatched group of people coming to meet him at the table. “aunt heather, I’d like you to meet the dagger squad: jake, natasha, robert, reuben and javy. we knew the admiral well.”

“hi.” heather said weakly, introducing herself. “I’m heather, the admirals wife. or, widow, I guess. I’m still not used to saying that.”

“are you getting ready for the funeral?” jake asked, promptly getting jabbed in the rib cage by natasha.

“what hangman means to say is: we all respected your husband very much, and we would be honoured to help you plan his memorial service.” phoenix corrected, taking heathers hand between both of her own.

“thank you for the offer, natasha.” heather smiled. “bradley, I want to show you something.”

she sat back in front of her laptop, using the touchscreen to pull up a video taken the first summer she came to visit miramar. she had timed the visit to coincide with her birthday, a small selfish part of her unable to fathom spending her birthday without tom.

bradley pulled up a chair next to the table, watching as the screen crackled to life, the date stamp in the corner reading june of 1986. they were inside the o bar, the video opening with heather resting her head on tom’s shoulder, then panning over to the massive birthday cake and sparklers set in front of her. carole bradshaw sat on one side of her, and charlie blackwood was at the head of the table, sitting next to maverick.

“is that my mom?” Bradley smiled fondly. “she looks so full of life.”

“she was.” heather laughed. “and you might remember charlie, she was one of mavericks many lovers.”

“hey!” pete scoffed. “things just didn’t work out.”

“she was always too good for you, pete.” heather laughed, pointing to another space on the screen. the group was singing happy birthday, supported by a rockabilly piano backing track. “bradley, there’s your dad.”

goose was sitting in front of the grand piano, a toothpick hanging between his teeth as he hammered away at the ivory keys, aviator glasses over his eyes.

“happy birthday dear heather, happy birthday to you.”

the camera panned back to heather and tom as she blew out the cake candles. tom pulled her in to a soft kiss while the rest of the table cheered, and then the video cut to black.

“mitchell has been digitizing all of this stuff for us. I caught tom watching our wedding videos before he died.”

“remember when slider and wolfman got absolutely shitfaced at your wedding and tripped down the reception stairs?” maverick laughed to himself “did anybody ever get that on video?”

heather shook her head, a bright smile on her tear stained face as she hunted through the original wedding folder. “I’ve got you one better.”

September 1987, Monterrey, California.

mrs. heather kazansky. she could get used to that.

she was sitting with her sister and tom’s parents, the former two who were conversing with each other in polish. she twirled her wedding band on her finger, face flushed and spirits high as she looked on at her husband.

tom was with maverick and slider, the group of aviators dressed in their best white uniforms, beer bottles lifted high as they drunkenly hollered the words to an old rod stewart song.

“and I know your name is rita, because your perfume smells sweeter.”

abigail was filming, zooming the camera lens in on heather as she asked: “are you sure you don’t wanna back out now? till death do you part, you’re bound to this dumbass now.”

heather laughed, playfully smacking at the camera. “yes, I’m sure!”

“stay with me, come on stay with me!”

sliders voice was three decibels louder than everybody else, and he was also significantly drunker. one of the bridesmaids had her eyes on him, and there wasn’t a doubt in anybody’s mind that ron kerner would have somebody in his bed that night.

iceman’s face was flushed, his arm thrown around maverick as they rocked on their feet, skin sweaty and hair mussed.

but in the midst of all this chaos, he still managed to look over at his new wife, blowing her the softest kiss. she smiled, catching the kiss in her hands and pressing it to her heart, a moment her sister was able to capture frame for frame on digital video.

tom had watched the video hundreds of times as he sat alone in his office, struggling to come to terms with the fact that he’d be leaving not just the love of his life, but his three beautiful children as well.

April 2022. Miramar, California.

“that’s the kind of love that people only dream about.” natasha smiled softly. “you’re lucky you got to spend as much time with him as you did. most couples don’t make it as long as you guys did.”

heather smiled shakily, reaching for her drink. she’d left the sprite so long that the ice had half melted, condensation dripping down the glass.

“he was so good with the kids, you know. I was on and off depressed for a while after joshua was born. my mental health had never been perfect and I was on a low dose anti-anxiety medication for a long time. but after Josh was born, everything just got so much harder and I could barley get out of bed in the mornings. tom would take the kids to school, make their lunches. he was teaching full time at top gun by then, so he took a few days off to stay with me, make me feel like myself again.”

“he was a good man.” robert smiled, rubbing her shoulder.

“yeah, he was.” heather bit her bottom lip, pulling a photo up on her laptop that had the dagger squad letting out a chorus of ‘awe’s’

the picture was taken in 1989. tom was dressed in a gray waffle knit shirt, a pair of pit viper sunglasses on his forehead as he held a smiling baby in his arms. mitchell’s wide eyes looked up at his dad, his tiny fingers wrapped around in of tom’s larger ones.

his name was mitchell ronald kazansky, because tom had made a lame bet with maverick and slider (that he lost) and had to name his firstborn after both of them (because he was a fucking idiot at times, but she loved him anyways).

the boys were both easy children, but cassandra? she was a daddy’s girl through and through, and tom would have moved heaven and earth for his little girl. whatever cassie wanted, she often got, well into adulthood even. she was the spitting image of her father, from her honey blonde hair right down to the birthmark on the underside of her jaw.

when tom walked her down the aisle at her wedding three years ago, he cried all the way to the altar. but not half as much as he sobbed when he held his granddaughter for the first time, cancer-stricken and barely able to speak, but still brimming with joy as he held jamie to his chest.

“he lead a good life. one he was proud of. he used his last words to tell me as much.” heather choked out, overwhelmed by emotions. “I just wish we’d had more time.”

pete placed his hand over hers, squeezing it reassuringly as natasha rubbed her back, and rooster gently squeezed her shoulder.

there was still so much love that heather kazansky still had to give.

still so much love that she was surrounded by.

and maybe that was tom’s way, even from the grave, to tell her that everything would still be alright.

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