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velvetydream · 3 months

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꒰ :🥀 [ Deer in headlight ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : You've been in the hotel for a while now yet one mistery you never uncovered, where that ears atop his head or hair? So you made it your mission to touch them and figure out if they are indeed ears.. and maybe a discover a matching tail to the ears?

Pairing : Alastor x Reader

Word count : 3025 Words

Genre : Fluff, Slightly suggestive near the end

Warnings ➵ Possessive and out of character Alastor

Part 2 -> < Like a deer in headlight >

a/n : I wanna pat his head and ears so badly, they look so fluffy and when they move around and are pressed to his head? I'm crying-

Also I wasn't able to find that scene as a gif so I made it myself `^` Why that scene? Bcs his ears layed back on his head look absolutely adorable!

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It's bugging you. Keeping a watching gaze on those fluffs atop a certain red-haired head, while you sat at the bar beside Angel who was in a conversation with Huskers, which you don't pay any more attention to. You were drawn in by the man sitting on the couch so carelessly while reading a newspaper.

They had to be ears right? They did move depending on his mood, even if not a lot.. But maybe it was also just his hair and not ears? If it were ears did he also have a tail? Ears and tail would make sense, seeing how he from time to time had smaller or bigger antlers atop his head, especially the big ones in his demon form.

"Are you even listening sweets?" Angels face appeared in front of your own now, twitching together a slight bit of surprise, your head turns to the two demons now and away from a certain deer demon. "Sorry.. I was spacing out a slight bit." You apologize to Angel now, Husk raising an eyebrow as he and Angel had noticed where your attention was diverted to. "Figured sweets, looked like you were eating smiles up with you eyes." Angel sends you a smirk, but you immediately start to shake your head, this wasn't what Angel was having on his mind right now. "I was wondering.. are those ears?" A gasp could be heard from Husk, Angel looking over his shoulder now to analyze Alastor's ears. The white spider was humming a bit, as he was debating whether they were ears or not, but Husker was already looking at you bewildered. "Don't even dare try anything, the last person to try and touch them was dead before they even got close." Now this was beginning to sound interesting, was Alastor this strange about it? If it was hair he wouldn't mind that much right? Well aside from the fact that he overall didn't enjoy being touched if it didn't come from his side or was allowed by him. But if they were ears.. were they sensitive? Was that why he didn't want anyone to touch them and.. did he have a matching tail? A cute little fluff of a deer tail?

Husk saw the gears in your head turning and speeding up, he grabbed both your cheeks as he turned your face to his, his eye staring into yours. "Don't you dare think about anything stupid, do you hear me?" Rolling your eyes, you pushed his hands away. Even though he was grumpy most of the time, you and Husk liked the company of one another, you two were quite good friends by now, so it made you a bit happy how he warned you and worried. But.. it was just thrilling to know, too noisy for your own good. "He won't kill me Husk, I'm his favorite!" Jumping from your seat, Husk lets out a groan, as you stride over to Alastor who is still busy reading the newspaper.

"Alastor! I got a question!" Jumping on the couch beside Alastor, you turn your body to him fully, one leg under you as your arm rests on the backside of the couch. Folding his newspaper together again, he lays it on the coffee table before looking at you. "Well of course my dear, go on ahead and ask whatever your heart desires to know!" He was talking and acting like a gentleman, giving you his full attention the second you addressed him and sat down beside him. "I was wondering for a while.. are those ears or is that your hair?" You were now pointing at his head, a smile still evident on his face, yet it somehow strained the slightest bit with irritation at your question. Huskers in the back was probably already fearing for your life. "Oh my dearest what a straightforward question, but I do fear I cannot answer you this. But do not worry your pretty little mind, maybe someday you will know." A soft pat was on your head, as the radio demon got up and made his way who knows where in quick strides.

"Oh no.. I know that face." Huskers was going crazy right now, the face you were making was one he knew oh so well, one that screamed > the game is on, I will win <. You were going to make this a game for sure, Husker was just praying the hotel would not be destroyed afterward.

The first thing now was to figure out if they really were ears, because if they were, you were so going to extant this self-proclaimed game of yours, to touching them.

"Oh Niffty my darling!" Shouting for the little psycho now, she jumps out of a room, a roach stuck on her little needle-like knife. She was a strange one no one understood, but still lovely and.. quite close to Alastor. "Niffty my dearest, you're very close to Alastor right? Do tell me, are those atop his head ears? Of course, you will get paid too for your information." Holding up a bag of alive insects and roaches, how you got them? Rather not ask, it was annoying and disgusting. Niffty was almost in an instant reaching for the bag, but you pulled it out of reach for her, reminding her what you wanted in return. "He told me how that part was sensitive and I should be careful, never told me if they were ears or not, but they have been pressed to his head a few single times when really irritated.. Now give me the bag!" Snatching the bag from you and running off with maniac-like laughter, she was crazy for sure. But did give you very useful information. Knowing the fact that he said they were sensitive, it makes you even more sure they were ears and pressed to his head when irritated? Yes, ears for sure.

Thats one check-point on your list done, now to the harder part touching them.. and figuring out if he has a tail too before he kills you for touching the ears!

Retreating to your room for now, you get out a notebook and scribble down some ideas of plans on how to touch them, but none of them seem really clever, so your notebook is quickly thrown against the wall out of frustration. A knock echoed through your room shortly after. "I heard a thump and wanted to make sure you were okay, you seem stressed.." Charlie entered your room, as you just slumped back against your pillows. Explaining to her what was bothering you, how you confirmed your theory that Alastor indeed has ears, but that you're now lost at how to be able to touch them. "You could just ask him! I'm sure a quick touch won't bother him!" Charlie was right.. If you would only take a second to touch them, just to feel them, he would agree, right? Thanking Charlie, you quickly make your way to Alastor's radio tower, this time of day he was usually busy writing his script for the following broadcast.

"Enter my dear!" His voice invited you, as he lifted his head to look at you. "What gives me the pleasure of your visit darling?" Pen still in his hand, his attention now on you though. Walking over to him, you look down at him, an unusual sight thinking of how he was normally taller than everyone and towering over them - well only exception might be Angel. "May I touch your ears? Just a second! I'll be quick!" Unnoticeable Alastor's eye twitched slightly from irritation, this topic again, you were not going to let it go, were you? "My dearest, I think I already told you to leave it, beside I never confirmed nor denied if your suspicions were correct." Head leaning on his palm now, as he was watching you, it was clear that if you were going to press on even further, he would get mad, but you didn't care. "I figured thanks to some information from someone, it won't be long! Just a soft touch! Just a second!" Now his eye twitched visibly, his hand raised and with a snap of his fingers, you were outside the door again, as you heard a click of the door being locked. Guess this didn't work.. Next plan.

Apparently, it would be harder than you thought to touch his ears. The first plan failed miserably. Currently, you are enjoying some tea with Rosie, maybe she could help you. Rosie was an old friend of Alastor, they were indeed quite close so perhaps? "Oh my dear, I have to disappoint you, our good Alastor hates getting them touched, he never let anyone near them and if, they were not able to talk about it afterward." So Rosie could also not help you, your ears peeking up now though as Rosie let out a thinking hum. "Perhaps, you could try and bribe him.. He does favor this one place in our town, it's rather expensive but, I can give in a good word for you, I do want to know how he reacts to you, his little darling touching them." Finally, some progress, though you didn't dare ask more about how Rosie had called you > his little darling < that would be for another time.

So with Rosie's help, you get his favorite meal for a good price as you make your way back to the hotel and immediately to Alastor's room. After knocking, his voice invites you in, which you gladly accept. "Oh, my dear Alastor! I got you food from your favorite place~!" In an almost sing-song voice, you announce that you got a meal for him. Now you finally saw it for the first time clearly, his ears perking up before his head turns to you with excitement. "Oh my dearest, you didn't have to!" As he was reaching out, just like before with Niffty, you pulled it out of his reach. "It wasn't cheap so.. how about as a thank you, you let me touch your ears?" The object of your current obsession now turned back, a slight scowl on Alastor's face, while still wearing his usual smile, though it was rather tight. "If that was all you wanted dearest please enjoy the meal yourself, I do not want it for those conditions." Was he for real right now? One you wouldn't eat this because.. it was in no way your preference and second you were only asking for a small touch. Rubbing them once, then you would, probably, never ask him ever again. Rolling your eyes, you push the food into his hands, you know he hasn't eaten yet, he tends to forget. "Eat it but don't think I will give up!" Storming out of his room now, his ears going back to normal, would you be behind him right now and his coat off, you would definitely see his little tail swishing from side to side.

Another failed attempt, your head now lying on Angels lap, as you both were bored in the foyer of the hotel. How could it be that no plan works? Was he despised by the idea of people touching his ears? Or maybe it hurt him? But then he wouldn't have allowed Niffty so many times to put stuff on his head and near his ears, like little self-made crowns or even flowers.

"Still no luck sweets? Maybe you should drop it, whiskers by now also absolutely going crazy worried about what your next plan will be." Angel was patting your head softly, running his fingers through your hair, your legs dangling off the side of the couch. "I really want to touch them, he just won't let me.." A small pout on your lips now, brows arched together in irritation. Over the last few days, you were breaking your head over what you could try next, but nothing really came to your mind. "Say, Angel.. your fluff is also a zone from your spidery traits, right? Would you let someone touch it?" Looking up at Angel now, he raised his eyebrows because you knew a lot of people were touching his fluff, but he figured out what you meant. "I would, because it doesn't do anything to me really, it barely tickles when someone goes too deep into it." It tickles? That was interesting, maybe Alastor's ears were also ticklish and that's why he didn't want them touched. To your surprise Angel pulled your hand to and into his fluff now, you never touched it like this. It was so soft, you bet Angel would make an amazing cuddle buddy. "See? It does nothing, but I know some others like me or smiles, who feel more on their animal traits, take whiskers for example, he wanted to cut off my hands the moment I yanked his tail once when I was drunk." You never knew that, that happened, interesting, you would definitely ask for more details of this story another time. Thinking about it now Husk would also probably not let you touch his ears or tail.

What you didn't notice was a certain demon sneaking into the hotel, watching you touch Angels fluff with stern eyes.

"Dearest!" Alastor was calling from behind you, as you made your way out of your room. "What's the matter? Do you need anything?" Alastor didn't say anything, but simply opened your door again and pushed you inside of your room, closing the door behind him. "Let's make a deal, you have to do something and in return I let you touch them." Your eyes sparking up now.. He was coming to you with a deal for touching his ears? And it wasn't for your soul?! This was probably the best day ever! "Sure whatever you want! Tell me! Now!" Your excitement couldn't be contained anymore.

"You are allowed to touch them once, in return you will never ever touch any other ones animal trait again." Huh? Your eyes blinked a few times as your brain registers his words. He asked you to never touch other's traits again? Did he mean because of you touching Angels fluff the other day? Did he see that? And why did it matter to him? Your brain was trying to puzzle together right now what this meant. "Wait.. I'm allowed to touch them once? No no no.. I'm allowed to touch them whenever I want, in return I won't touch others traits ever again." Holding your hand out with a determined expression now, Alastor's eye twitched again, but he still ended up shaking your hand, green lighting up from your hands for a second, but disappearing again after a second.

"Now.." A smirk played on your lips, as you took slow steps over to the demon, who was watching you closely. He lowered his head slightly for you to reach his head. Hands stopping an inch before his ears, fingers twitching to finally feel his ears. And finally all your advances and failed plans paid off. His ears were soft, the hair.. fur? On them soft, probably softer than his hair. They were rather warm, slightly moving against your fingers. Without thinking, you pressed a kiss against them, a gasp echoing from the demon they belonged to. Who knew all you had to do for him to agree was to slightly rile him up with jealousy?

"O-Okay! Enough!" Pulling back now, he was looking down at you again now. And what a sight he was right now. A sight you had never seen before. His face was bright red, as his ears stood tall in alert now, eyes wide and mouth despite smiling slightly agape by shock, probably of how much he actually liked it. "The deal was I could touch them whenever I wanted!" Looking at him with the best pout you could muster up now. Eye squinting a slight bit at you, before he could react, you grabbed his coat by the front, pulling him to your bed. "I will enjoy this now for as long as I want, I waited weeks and after all these failed attempts!" Fingers back on his ears now, softly running them over the fur, a cateful tug on them had the radio demon himself gasping, before biting his lip while trying to retain his signature smile. Wondering just how far you could go with this, till he might even pass out.

After hours, you finally stopped down to softly patting his hair, running your fingers through his hair. Leaning against the headboard, Alastor rested his head on your shoulder, visibly tired from you toying with his ears, now enjoying the contrast of your soft pats on his head.

"Does it feel weird? Or hurt?" Looking down at him now, you didn't even think of asking if it hurt him. Chuckling at how you're worrying for him now after hours of playing and patting his ears. "Do not worry your pretty little head love, I was so opposed to it because it's quite the opposite. It feels good, too good even sometimes." That explains his reactions a lot, his breath was rather hard when you were playing with them, and his face was crimson red at some point. If someone barged in to see him like this, they would have probably been dead by now. "Makes sense so.. do you have a matching tail?" At that his body tenses up, oh how you loved teasing him. But before you could take a peak under his coat, he was up on his feet and out of the room. This would be a fun new mission.

Angel couldn't help but cackle at the way Alastor stormed through the foyer and out of the hotel, absolutely disheveled. Husker just let out a breath when you joined them at the bar, though it stocked again when you told them of your newest plan of the radio demon and his deer tail. The radio demon probably already dreading your attempts and how he knew, he would in the end enjoy this just as much as he enjoyed you patting his ears.

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x you #alastor imagine #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor

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donatellawritings · 24 days

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if requests(?) are open what do you think about bff!rafe whos absolutely down bad for reader ☺️

bff!rafe is honestly the most obsessive man ever and has no sense of boundaries ngl

truth be told, you and rafe haven’t even known each other that long, barely a year, to be exact. when you had moved into the pretty little baby blue house that overlooked the busy docks and calm waters, rafe had just made his long overdue return to figure 8. you were fresh out of college, and as free as a baby bird — with a somewhat matured rafe who was patiently waiting on the perfect moment to swoop in and teach you to to fly — his way.

you see, rafe was the man of his family now, and as the leading man of the cameron lineage, he had no choice, but to become painfully aware of the damage he could cause. you shared the likeness of a baby deer — naive, dainty, and a little too welcoming … much to your own detriment, at times.

so, rafe took it upon himself to take you under his wing, making sure that he always had you in his line of vision. i mean, if he didn’t look out for you, who knows what kind of trouble you’d get into? which is exactly why he settled for being your best friend in the whole world, as you like to say — that is, until you’d finally snap out of the pink tinted dreamland you seemed to live in, and realize that you were better off just being his — being rafe’s girl.

“y’wanna try some?” you hummed, your manicured hand holding out the wand of your new tube of dior gloss as you mushed your swollen lips together, puckering your now shimmery lips in the mirror as you adored your new lipgloss.

met with silence, you rolled your eyes as rafe remained stood tall and authoritative behind you, his eyebrows furrowed as he fiddled with the collar of his polo shirt, “c’mon, kid — don’t have time to play games,” he shrugged his shoulders, before nudging the side of your jaw with the side of his ringed finger.

to anyone who wasn’t aware of your unique dynamic with rafe — the sight of a young girl dressed in nothing, but a mesh bralette that displayed her hard nipples and tiny silk shorts that sucked up into her ass, a bit bent over a vanity with a much taller man’s tented crotch ghosting right behind the curve of her ass, would be pretty incriminating.

but, in your eyes, it was just you and rafey, your very best friend in the entire world.

leaning back onto the balls of your sore feet, you completely missed the way rafe took in the ripple of your asscheeks as you let out an entitled huff, “i don’t want to go golfing,” you mumble, your arms crossed firmly across your swelled tits as you send rafe a bratty frown in the mirror.

mocking your bratty behavior with an exaggerated pout, rafe lets out a feigned whimper, “aw, baby doesn’t wanna hang out with rafey anymore?”

shoving the gloss-coated wand into the tube, you toss it onto the vanity, your bouncy blown-out hair whipping against rafe’s chest as you push your weak palm into rafe’s hard torso, earning another condescending laugh from the blue-eyed man, “i don’t want to hang out with you, anymore,” you announce, eyes glazed with frustrated tears.

“y’sure? got lots of pretty girls who would love for me to be their best friend,” rafe cocks his head to the side, a knowing smirk tugging on his pink lips as he watches you carefully think about your next words.

with a hesitant nod, you sniffle, “i’m sure.”

“okay — i’ll miss you, princess,”

your doe eyes widened with genuine concern as rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your hair, before taking a few steps backwards from you, turning to reach for the handle of your bedroom door. he can’t leave — you were only kidding!

“stop! i was just kidding,” you panic, perky tits bouncing as you rush over to rafe who is biting back a cocky grin.

forcing a solemn expression, rafe gently raised a ringed hand to hold your jaw, “can’t joke like that, huh? almost made me get a new best friend, pretty girl,” rafe twists the knife, his stomach growing warm and fluttery as he watches you lightly bounce on your feet, before accepting your outstretched arms as he carries you back to your pillow and squishmallow-covered bed.

“sleep over?” you questioned sweetly.

“of course, kid.”

｡⋆୨୧˚

wet lip smacks and muffled moans filled the four walls of your bedroom as you laid semi-underneath a now shirtless rafe. one leg hooked over his hip as your hands cupped each side of his strained neck. your puffy lips were nearly raw and tingly from rafe’s constant suckling and nipping at your mouth. rafe’s hand kept a light grip on your throat as he kept you engrossed in the slippery kiss, tongues dancing together wildly as rafe fucked your mouth with his.

pushing out a sleepy whine, you said your delicate hand to rafe’s collarbone, gently pushing, “rafey — m’lips hurt,” your words were jumbled as rafe groaned into your mouth, his lips continuing their relentless assault.

your sloppy little makeout sessions with rafe were a common find when it came to spending a day with him, and you didn’t see anything wrong with it — i mean, he was your best friend forever, he would never steer you in the wrong direction.

shutting you up with a slip of his tongue inside of your mouth, rafe’s hand sliding to cup your cheek as you are quick to wraps your swollen lips around his slippery tongue, gently suckling the pink muscle. you continued sucking on his tongue for a few more minutes, your mixed spit shining on the corners of your mouths and messily smeared on your chins from wet lips.

sliding a calloused, ring-clad hand to cup your soft ass underneath the silk of your shorts, rafe patted two light slaps to your skin, earning a needy moan from you as your wrapped your slick lips around his tongue once more, in a sealing kiss, “sorry — y’taste good,” you mumbled, your sore lips pulled into a sorry little pout as rafe nods knowingly, gently pulling your head to lean against his chest.

rafe never missed the way you gazed up at him, your doll eyes sparkling with adoration and respect — you never judged him, and he appreciated that.

“s’okay, kid.” he responded, mushing your cherub cheeks as your lips remain in a silly smile.

you really had the bestest friend in the whole world!

#asks #anon #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #bff!rafe #rafe x reader

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sooniebby · 8 months

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I’m back…had a random thought when listening to men moaning and I just had to write it for y’all.. you know the drill, bottom male reader, reader is mentioned to have a cock

Smut fic—in which reader has the terrible experience of being able to read minds. It was fun at first when you first found out at age ten.. but then it just got bad because you couldn’t control it

Hearing your mom’s thoughts about your dad was traumatizing to say the least. As you grew older, you basically learned to tune people out by filling your head with your own thoughts. It usually works.

And it was your usual day in your philosophy class at the university you dreamed of going to.. and it was the usual in that you sat next to this random girl who slept the entire time. Which was good, you didn’t have to worry about her thoughts.

But much to your surprise, someone sat next to you. It was pretty shocking. This guy was “popular” in the sense he was handsome and everyone wanted to be near him.

He usually only sat next to his friends but today he was next to you..? Odd—but you didn’t care that much. You now had to focus on making sure his thoughts didn’t distract you from your professor..

But you did want to take a little peak—just to see what a guy like him would be thinking. At most, you expected him to be focused on taking notes

This guy… is he an actor, you thought to yourself. He looked to be paying attention but the only thing on his mind was sex.. with you.

And not just a fleeting glimpse of sex. it was.. wow, pretty graphic.

He was fantasizing about fucking you in an empty classroom. The classroom you two were in right now. You sprawled on the teacher’s desk, back arched with your legs being pushed towards you.

He was fucking you. Very harsh. He had a very vivid dream of how you’d look fucked out on the table—your moans filling the empty classroom.

His fantasy was solely on you. How you cried, how you arched your back, how you whined his name.. suddenly, he was holding tightly on your neck, lightly squeezing it while his thrusts began to practically knock your breath away.

“You sound so cute.. but you can be louder, yeah?” His fantasy self said to you, reaching down and slapping your ass which earned a scream. Which embarrassingly enough caused you to flinch in real life.

Okay, that’s enough..! You thought to yourself, looking away with a blush. Holy shit. This random guy… was dreaming about having sex with you?! But you guys didn’t even speak.. why.. did he like you?

You couldn’t help but glance over at him, trying hard to not let his thoughts flood your mind again. He was certainly hot—which made sense why a lot girls kept fangirling about him.. Black hair slicked back with gel, a nice nose, plump lips girls were jealous of, a lean body, cat-like eyes..

why was he into you?

He could have anyone.. but he’s thinking about you?

By accident, a slip of his thoughts flooded you again. He wasn’t thinking about sex anymore, he was actually focused on his notes. With a sigh, you decided to believe you were just going crazy and took a sip from your water bottle.

‘His mouth is so small.. would it actually be able to fit around my cock?’

You coughed heavily as water slipped out of your mouth. Much to your shock, the perverted guy handed you some tissues to wipe your mouth. You muttered a thank you, cleaning your chin and mouth.

Jesus, this guy is going to be the death of you.

‘He’s so cute…I hope he likes guys…’

You sighed, happy that he was finally thinking about you normally.

‘Ah.. what if it was my cum instead of water on his lips..? Oh, too much don’t wanna pop a boner in class.’

You could only cough once more in shock and cover your ears. Oh, you needed him away from you fast. But it seemed like he was going to actually start pursuing you soon..

But what you really wondered is if you could survive hearing his thoughts on a daily basis.. and by the embarrassing boner you were sporting right now

Yeah, you were going to be having boners in philosophy often.

‘Does he even like giving blowjobs..? Hope so.. it’d be hot cumming in his mouth..having it overflow.. oops, boner!’

This was going to be a long day…

My first ever one where the guy actually thinks and technically talks… :0! This was fun if you guys want, I’ll definitely expand on it. For now, Imma continue the roommate for tmmr <3

Yoga instructor is coming soon, can’t wait to have an actual fic for him, it’ll be in 2nd person!

Tag list: @nakedtoasterr @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @the-ultimate-librarian @iwishtobeacrow (ask to added to my tag list to be tagged in all of my works :3)

#bottom male reader #uke male reader #oc x reader #smut drabble #smut ideas #mlm nsft #mlm ns/fw #x male reader #smut prompts

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1-800-kami · 8 months

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R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts (update: part two is now out!! linked here 2 read) and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment.

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface.

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.”

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.”

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them.

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side.

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words.

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow.

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?”

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone.

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think.

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone.

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..”

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family.

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater.

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again.

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?”

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex.

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes.

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind.

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom.

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?”

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.”

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car.

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru.

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-”

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side.

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.”

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look.

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid.

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand.

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.”

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you.

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already.

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.”

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here.

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink.

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you.

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight.

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.”

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.”

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again.

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.”

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 ;)

#kami writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru comfort #gojo x reader angst #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x y/n

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notmyneighbor · 27 days

Text

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

Chapter 6

Word Count ~ 3.9k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

Early morning. Almost time for Francis’ delivery route to begin.

“Good morning.” You look at the doppelgänger. His face is pressed into the living room pillow he’d borrowed from the couch, offering you the solitary one on the bed. A sleepy smile of greeting.

“Good morning, love.” His hand cups your cheek and you trap his fingers, turning your face to kiss the inside of his wrist. “I’m glad you stayed last night.”

“Me too.” Its earlier than you’d normally rise, but you kind of like it. That sense that the rest of the world is slumbering and the two of you have this time reserved just for you.

“Tell me to go get ready. I don’t want to leave this bed.”

“Go get ready. I’ll press your clothes for you while you take a shower. Get coffee going.”

“M’kay.” He sighs, sitting upright. Stretching his arms, his legs hanging over the side of the bed. A dog barks outside and someone hisses for it to be quiet. The replicant freezes, his arms dropping down sharply.

“Francis? What is it?”

“It’s not a dog.” He stands and goes to the window, edging the curtain back. “I don’t recognize them. Not from my squadron.”

“A doppel?”

“Yes.”

You sit up, the languid, cozy feeling evaporating instantly. Bringing you right back to reality. “Does the owner know?”

“No. They’re human.”

“Are they trying to come in?”

“No. But they sense something. That’s why they barked. They’re already halfway down the street. You’re safe.” He lets the curtain drop back into place.

“Didn’t you say no doppels would try to enter the building anymore?”

“Yes.”

You worry your lower lip. “That’s going to look suspicious to the DDD.”

“The DDD.” He says the name of the organization contemptuously. “I wish you’d leave.”

“It’s not just a job. It’s my career. I can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to help people. I promised I would.”

“You could do something else and still help people,” he mumbles. “Fine. If it’s going to draw more unwanted attention here, I can make certain some doppels do come in when you’re working.”

So much for the relieved idea that you and the residents would finally be safe and secure. “You can do that?”

“Of course.”

“And not let them harm anyone?”

“That is more than I can promise.”

So you’d still be putting the residents at risk. Encouraging it, even. You’d have to make absolutely certain never to let one inside.

“You’d be condemning your own kind. I’d have to call the cleaners if they threatened violence.”

“I’m aware. I have to keep you safe. If that means risking some other doppels, so be it.”

You leave the bed, walking over to the closet. Francis didn’t have many clothes aside from his work attire. He’d had few personal possessions in general from what you’ve seen so far in the apartment. Living so humbly.

The imposter rests a hand on your spine on the way past you to the bathroom, pausing to kiss your cheek. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yes.” You select a shirt and pair of pants, folding the items still on the hangers over your arm. “I’ll be fine. Go get ready.”

The sound of the shower starting fills the background as you collect the folded ironing board from inside the closet and plug in the iron. You pad barefoot into the kitchen to get the coffee pot on, wearing one of Francis’ undershirts and your panties. You’re a little sore from the previous evening’s events. Internally. The times he had pounded into you deeply. The new bite on your shoulder. The swelling and redness seem to have dissipated. The mirror above the dresser doesn’t reveal anything too drastic looking. The puncture marks are almost invisible.

You’ve got the milkman’s pants ready when he emerges naked from the other room, still slightly damp from the shower. The brazenness still makes you blush. You know what he looks like nude by now, of course, but it feels different when it isn’t during intimacy. You watch the imitator rummaging through the dresser drawers to retrieve underwear and socks and a bow tie, secretly admiring the way his muscles shift in the warm yellow glow of the lamp, the curtains still shielding the window. You can smell the coffee brewing in the other room, easily pervading the entirety of the tiny apartment, and you inhale that enticing aroma deeply.

“So you mentioned earlier you’re in a squadron. Like a military sort?”

“Not precisely as you know it, but I suppose there are a few vague similarities.”

“What rank are you?”

“The equivalent of a lieutenant colonel, if you had to label it.”

You inch the work shirt further over the side of the ironing board to continue the pressing, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Where is the rest of your squadron?”

He shrugs. “Around,” he replies vaguely. You think he knows exactly where they are and he’s not willing to give them up. Still somewhat loyal, in spite of what’s happened between you.

“They don’t wonder where you are? Or vice versa? You don’t have some kind of a leader you have to report to?”

He pauses midway through pulling on a sock. “It doesn’t quite work like that. We are…autonomous, I suppose you would say. Working independently, but striving for the same goal.”

You hand him the shirt and he slides it over his shoulders after finishing with the socks. “So why have ranks at all then, if you’re all equals?”

“Because we’re not. Not everyone can do what I did. It’s still rare. There’s no way to instruct how to do it. It just…happens. Or doesn’t.” He finishes buttoning the front of his shirt. You help him with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“Why did you choose Francis?”

“Opportunity. Nothing more. Sheer random encounter.” You step back as he pulls each pants leg on and stands, zipping and buttoning the fly. The belt is coiled on the dresser beside the black tie. “The best decision of my existence,” he says softly, his forehead bending to touch yours.

You’re so conflicted. He’d killed the man you’d loved. But in some ways was still the man you loved. Only not. An enemy you’re supposed to be guarding against, except he no longer seems to bear any malice towards your kind. Coexisting peacefully. But the cost of that. Oh, the cost.

“I can’t say I’m grateful for what you did. But I am glad it was you, and not someone else.”

His hand cradles your head and he draws you against him. You can smell soap and shampoo. Aftershave. Your arms tighten around him.

“What did happen? During that random encounter?” You ask against his chest.

“Why do you want to know the details? It won’t change anything.”

You draw back to see his face. “Consider it a weakness of humans. There is a car accident on the interstate. The vehicles wrecked, the passengers gravely injured. We slow down or stop to look, even after emergency services have been called, even though there is nothing left to be done. We can’t look away. We have to face it. Confront our fears head on. Grieve our losses. Knowing the truth of what happened is the only way to do that.”

“If I tell you, you’re admitting he’s gone.”

You chew your lower lip, hesitating. “I suppose that would be true.”

“If that happens, you won’t have any reason to be with me anymore.” He strokes a thumb over one cheek. “Is that really what you want?”

“I…no.” Your heart is beating madly in your chest. It would be like losing Francis twice, somehow. You can’t fathom it. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s best I don’t know. I won’t mention it again.”

After a time the replicant finishes dressing. The black bow knotted neatly. Belt secured. Wallet tucked into his pocket, followed by his keys. You’ve hastily gotten dressed in yesterday’s clothing. You’ll return home and get properly washed and changed before returning for your shift afterwards.

The imposter pours you both a cup of the freshly brewed coffee. Strong. The way you both like it. A little cream and sugar to kill some of the bitterness stirred in.

You’re standing by the front door now. The doppelgänger holds the milkman’s cap in his hands. He doesn’t like wearing it. You can tell. You pull it from his fingers and set it on his head. Tugging the brim down a little. Smoothing some of his hair back underneath. He really did need a trim soon. You’d never seen it get this long.

“Be safe today,” he says.

“You too.”

“Do you think I could get away with coming over tonight? Is your organization going to stalk me?”

“I’m hoping they’ll calm down after a bit. They are still watching you. Me. Us. So maybe wait a couple of days, make it not so obvious.”

“I don’t think I can manage a couple of days.”

“You’ll still see me in the booth.”

“That’s not the same.”

“I know, Francis. If circumstances were different…I’m trying keep you safe.”

“I know.” He sighs. “Alright. A couple of days, then. Surely the weekend as well?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

He smiles. “Things looking up already. Alright, sweetheart.” He bends to kiss your mouth. “I’ll see you later.”

You exit the apartment and he locks the door. Still no one else stirring in the building yet. He ignores the elevator and begins descending the staircase. You follow him. He’s faster than you, his longer limbs making short work of the steps. Already nearly an entire flight down from you.

He pauses on the landing, looking back at you as you halt, fingers curled over the railing.

“Francis.” You rush down the stairs, throwing yourself at him when you reach the bottom, the momentum pushing him back against the wall. Planting kisses along the freshly shaved cheeks and jaw. “I miss you already.”

“Me too, love.” His arms envelop you and you bury your face against his shirt. Suddenly you find yourself wanting to cling to him desperately. So afraid for him. More than you were even for yourself.

It’s a relief when you see him return safely later that day; it’s all you can do not to open the booth and fling yourself back into his arms. But the camera mounted on the wall over your shoulder is a constant reminder. You’re being watched.

You’re not safe at all.

***

Saturday morning finds you standing in what was once an impressive garden beside your house. Now chock full of wildflowers and overgrown with weeds. Francis’ copy is beside you, kneeling down, his fingers raking the earth, pushing impatiently at the intruding vegetation. “The soil is still good. You could plant here again easily.”

“My grandfather would have been happy to see that. It just got to be too much for him to maintain. He had a hard time finding help for the farm. People lured into moving to the city. Better paying jobs. Fancier homes. A variety of exciting new stores to shop in. My parents both had that itch.”

“You’re somewhere in the middle.” He stands, dusting his hands off.

You nod. “I guess I am. I can appreciate the value of being in the city. The benefits. But I recognize the drawbacks, too. I love being here. It always feels right. I wish I could restore things to the way they were.”

“Maybe you could. Not to the extreme of running a business with employees, but to build it back up, little by little.”

“It would be a full time process.”

“You could do it. We could do it,” he adds softly.

“Is that really what you’d want?”

“I want you,” he says, his hands now seated on your waist, drawing you closer. He kisses you and you sigh contentedly.

“When I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the world goes away. There is no DDD or invasion. It’s just us.”

“It could really be like that.”

“No one ever leaves the DDD voluntarily. And you’d be labeled a deserter, wouldn’t you? We’d be chased. Hunted down. There’s only one punishment for someone who’s a coconspirator.” It didn’t happen often, but occasionally there were stories of humans accepting bribes. Working together with the doppels. It did not end well for the humans making those bargains; did not end well for the invaders, either.

“We’ll keep running so they can’t catch us. To the ends of the earth.” He tugs on your hand and you allow him to, following him. Navigating through the overgrowth, threading through it to find your path. Moving faster and faster, a full jog now. Still anchored to the doppelgänger’s hand.

He halts abruptly and you collide with him. Both breathing heavily. He descends and you tumble down with him. You’re in a patch of wildflowers, their perfumed scent heavy in the air.

You lie together like that with your head pillowed on his chest, one arm tucked around you. “Did you ever have anything like this before? Was there someone else?”

“Never.”

You burrow a little deeper, satisfied with the answer. Would you have been jealous if he’d said yes? Strange to think that way. But yes, you would be, you realize. The concept of sharing, the idea of affection for someone other than yourself bothers you.

“Do you think you could ever find yourself caring for me? Not for the face I wear. What’s behind it, I mean. My true self.” Your head lifts, your eyes searching his features. “I want you to love me as much as you love the man. More than that.”

“You said…you don’t even have words for human emotions. They don’t exist for your kind.”

“They don’t. They didn’t. A change now. Evolution. Something unanticipated. That’s what the ache is, isn’t it? How terrible this feeling is. How wonderful. Paradox.” He pulls your face towards his, kissing you. “I need you, sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.”

You kiss him back. You can’t speak with words. It’s too overwhelming. Too confusing trying to separate the man and the invader. You’d been telling yourself all along it was your feelings for the former that had driven all your actions. That had been true enough in the beginning. But now. Now there were doubts creeping in. Wondering it wasn’t the other that you had feelings for. Could you really love a monster?

“Need to feel you, love, please.” The sound of his belt being undone. Dark slacks today now that he wasn’t working. Your fingers join him there, finding his cock already hard, leaking in anticipation. So hungry, so fast. Your body responding in kind, drooling for him.

You straddle his hips, the hem of your skirt bunched around your waist. Struggling to hold the crotch of your panties aside, to guide him inside of you. Gasping when you succeed. You lower yourself down onto him. The sun is warm on your back. You lift up slightly and sit back down. Impaling yourself again. Your hips roll back and forth as you lean down to kiss him. Rocking, sliding that prick in and out of your pussy. He slips completely free and you hurriedly snake a hand between your bodies, realigning him. The drag against your clit sending sparks through you. You keep the hand there, touching yourself, touching him. Feeling the heightened friction of the panties digging against your hand, against your lover’s dick. The nails of your other hand raking his chest through his shirt.

You kiss him, tasting the salt of the perspiration that has begun. It’s so hot. Outside. Inside of you. His fingers touch your cheek, seed your hair, hold your mouth against his as his hips lift to meet you. Driving him deeper inside. You look down at the man whose face you’d seen behind glass for all those months. Those dark, tired eyes on yours. Lick his mouth back open, enjoying the mash of the hand still between your bodies, grinding against the bundle of nerve endings. His lips at your jaw and throat and beside your ear. “I love you,” he whispers, and you shatter around him, your walls spasming, your body jerking through release.

It’s easy to say the phrase back to him when you’re in the height of bliss, just three simple little words that escape above his face, panted between noises of pleasure.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

His hips snap up and you feel the jet of seed inside you. Your forehead drops to his, your arms and legs suddenly shaking. You dismount and drop down beside him, your face burrowing again.

“I meant it,” he says softly. “What I said.”

“I know. So did I.” It’s the truth, you realize. Somehow, the impossible had happened.

You’d fallen in love with a doppelgänger.

***

The weekend flies by.

You are back in the security booth once again the following Monday. Straightening out the desk once more. You really could not understand why your coworkers were so disorganized. You’ve nearly finished the task when you realize through your peripheral vision that someone has entered the apartment building.

Your head lifts to see Izaack Gauss.

Or what looked like him; your instincts kicking in once again. It’s most certainly a doppel.

The face has been perfectly replicated, the second floor resident’s exaggerated features all ones you recognize: the large cleft chin and wide nose, the thick dark eyebrows set above glacier blue eyes, that wide stretch of teeth just a little too large for comfort, becoming almost a rictus grin. One that doesn’t touch the imposter’s eyes.

“Good morning,” he greets you, sliding his ID card and entry request through the stainless steel slot at the bottom of the window.

You look over the identification first. Expiration date checks out, the image and name both correct. Your eyes flick up before you study the other document. On the day’s list. DDD logo present. Occupation of reporter correct. Address verified.

“May I come in? As you can see everything is in order.”

The ID card is still clutched in your hands. You tap it against the desk absently. You know it’s not really him. You just don’t have any evidence to support your suspicion yet.

“Let me just make a quick phone call to your residence.”

You lift the receiver off the hook, dialing the first number.

“I can smell him on you.”

Your hand freezes. “I’m sorry?”

The large nostrils flare and the suited figure inhales deeply. “All over you. Inside of you. He’s been there, hasn’t he? You’ve let him in.” Little burst capillaries spidering across his eyes now. A thin trail of spit glistening on his lower lip. “You could let me inside, too.”

You flip the plastic shielding covering the alarm down and slap the red button, the steel shutters instantly dropping down to cover the glass. Hanging up hurriedly and dialing a new number, the DDD operator answering you in the same calm manor they always adopt, assuring you the cleaners will be on their way shortly.

Time seems to slow to a crawl. You hear the sounds of the disposal team making their way inside. Yelling. Gunfire. Then silence. The alarm stops sounding. The steel shutter retracts. On the other side of the window, you can see a member of the DDD wearing a yellow hazmat suit. “The doppelgänger has been taken care of. You can return to work now.”

You nod, willing your shaking hands to be still.

***

“There was a doppel today.”

The piece of cake you’re chewing tastes like ash. It’s from your favorite bakery, a treat from your replicant beau. Washed down with an ice cold sample of the milk he delivers. You wish you could enjoy it. But your taste buds won’t cooperate. You’re still shaken from what had happened earlier.

“Yes. There were to be several. What’s wrong?”

“He knew about us, Francis.”

He sets his fork down slowly. “Tell me what happened.”

“He looked just like Mr. Gauss. The reporter that lives alone on the second floor. Paperwork checked out. But I could tell something was off right away. And he said he could smell you on me. In me. He knew what we’ve done together.”

You see the copycat milkman’s Adam’s apple move above his shirt collar as he swallows loudly. “And then you called the cleaners?”

“Yes.”

“Did he get a chance to say anything to them?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“And the surveillance cameras?”

“Video feed only, no audio.”

A heavy sigh. “Alright. I’m sorry that happened to you. That was not a member of my squadron, I assure you.”

“You said they wouldn’t come near the building, because of the marks. Other than the ones you sent as decoys to fool the DDD.”

“I didn’t think they would. Honestly, I didn’t. I would never deliberately put you in harm’s way. You know that.” His hand reaches for yours across the tiny kitchen table in the third floor apartment. “Had to just be an anomaly. Had to be,” he repeats, sounding as if he’s trying to reassure himself as well as you.

“What if it’s not?”

He pushes back from the table, kneeling beside you, reaching for one of your hands and pressing his lips to it, holding it against his cheek. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I swear to you. I love you,” he says, and your heart flutters. The palm of his free hand rests somewhere along your ankle. Sliding up, bringing the hem of your skirt with it. He kisses your knee. The top of the joint. The inside. Stands and pulls you with him. Lifting you and sitting you on the counter, your skirt gathered in messy folds around your hips. His fingers dig into the sides of the underwear clinging to them, dragging them roughly down. He’s impatient, possessive. Scared, you think.

“I want to make a baby with you.”

“Francis…” Your sex throbs at the suggestion. Such a dangerous idea.

“I want them to know you’re mine. Fuck the DDD and fuck the other doppels.” His face moves against your throat, one hand on your hip as he thrusts into you, the other braced on the overhead cabinet behind you.

“I am yours.”

He huffs a moan. “You’re so perfect for me.”

You gasp when he reaches deeper inside of you, clutching the back of his shirt collar, your other hand at his waist, knees digging into his hips as he ruts against you. Your fingers travel to his hair, those cocoa locks that are growing curlier the more they lengthen. You have to cut them for him, or send him to a barber, or…

“Say it. Please, please say it. Do you want me to beg? I’ll do it. Please…”

You know what he wants. What he needs to hear. “I love you.” The wood behind you groans with the tension his hand places on it as he fucks you harder, faster. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” uttered each time he’s sheathed inside you.

Touching his cheek now, watching his mouth fall open, the kind of wonder in those dark eyes, as if he’s discovering you all over again for the first time, coming apart, waiting to be rebuilt. You both shatter and then there is silence save for the ticking of the clock mounted on the kitchen wall and the breaths you trade, a warm exchange of air in the scant space that divides you.

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

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