#I promise this made so much sense in my head
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i love you, it’s ruining my life
azriel x cassian’s sister!reader - part 1 of 3
summary: it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you weren’t supposed to be your brother’s best friend’s mate, especially when that best friend is the same male who’s acted like you don’t exist for the last two centuries.
warnings: angst, very brief mentions of violence and abuse, azriel is oblivious and reader is angry, not much pining in this part mainly just angsty
A single band of golden thread, stretched from your soul, reaching out into an abyss. There was seemingly no end to the thread, no definite stop, just a shadowy mess that sent the thread into a disarray as it reached for your mate.
Your mate. The male who had spoken maybe a full sentence to you a handful of times in the last few centuries. The male who was best friends with your brother, and acted as if you didn’t even exist.
Even in your younger years in Windhaven, it seemed Azriel didn’t even know you were there. Like you were a ghost, invisible to him in every sense of the word.
Azriel didn’t ever really speak to anyone, though, so it wasn’t like you were an exception, he treated you like most everyone else. But you never had been able to shake the fact that he would nearly sprint out of a room if you were the only one in it, or that he would refuse to look you in the eyes when you spoke at dinner. It was like he couldn’t even stand the thought of being in the same vicinity of you, like he couldn’t stomach talking to you.
And you were now bound to him, for the rest of eternity.
The bond had snapped for you immediately upon seeing the state of Azriel when they returned from Hybern without Feyre, when the entirety of their plan had gone up in flames, with Azriel in the main path of destruction.
Seeing him in so much pain tugged at your heart, nearly ripping it out of your chest when you saw how ruined his wings were. It affected you so much that you ran out of the room when they first arrived, partially because of how much it hurt you to see him like that, and partially because of how distraught the bond snapping into place had immediately made you feel. You couldn’t bear to see your mate in so much pain, and you knew you didn’t trust yourself to be around when they inevitably put him into more pain while healing him.
You kept to yourself for weeks after their arrival, only speaking to Rhysand and your brother when need be.
Rhys was the first one to find out about your dilemma.
He called you into his study weeks later to talk about a mission, one he needed you specifically on for your daemati skills. While he explained the details, he could tell your mind was elsewhere, so much so that you couldn’t even stop him from getting past the pure obsidian wall you’d built up in your mind, the wall you never let anyone break down until that moment.
Rhysand had given you a hesitant look when he stopped explaining the tasks in order to peer into your mind and capture your attention. He didn’t want to pry, only to get your mind focused by scaling his talon down the obsidian wall, which to his surprise collapsed before he could even attempt to breach it. But you nodded when he silently asked to see what had been keeping you so on edge, what had stopped you from helping Madja out with taking care of Azriel when they returned from Hybern, what had stopped you from engaging in conversation at dinner as of late.
A vision of a golden thread shrouded in black and gray shadows was sent to Rhys’ mind, along with a memory of exactly the moment you had been struck with the bond.
“Have you told him?” he implored, though he seemed to already know the answer.
You couldn’t even speak at that point, only shaking your head in response as tears brimmed your eyes when you thought of how fucked up it was to be bonded to someone who’d barely acknowledged you in the hundreds of years you’d known him.
Rhys gave you a sympathetic look then, knowing the feeling of an unrequited bond all too well.
You promised him about a thousand times that you wouldn’t let him find out, that you wouldn’t let the agony and sadness get in the way of the mission. You could prove yourself worthy and able to go on without thinking about how you might never get an accepted bond, you assured him that you could. He was still unsure when he agreed to let you go on the mission, but it was miniscule enough that any lapses in judgment wouldn’t be detrimental, so he agreed.
And you proved yourself, just like you said you would. You proved yourself over and over again with Rhysand’s missions, building up your mental shields stronger than they ever had been before. So strong, that the High Lord himself had a hard time cracking through them.
You became a shell of what you were before seeing your mate in that near-death state, but you didn’t care. You needed to distract yourself in any way, shape or form that you could in order to forget about him, to forget that he’d never even taken a second glance in your direction.
It got to the point where you became so shut off from reality that even Cassian, your brother known for paying no mind to female emotions, started to notice.
You caught Cassian giving you inquisitive stares a handful of times during training and at dinners when your attitude was exceptionally reserved and demure, but never thought he would actually say anything to you.
That was until he finally snapped, on the first dinner with Feyre back in Velaris, which just so happened to be the first dinner that Azriel joined in the weeks after Hybern.
You nearly fell out of your seat when you saw him in all his glory. There he was, standing at the end of the table, as beautiful as ever. He was almost fully healed, aside from a few scars littered over the membrane of his wings.
Excited chatter filled the room as he entered, everyone falling into their rightful place in the Inner Circle, along with the newest members, Nesta and Elain. Though you were one of the longest standing members of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, you felt the most out of place in that moment.
The wine you’d been sipping churned in your stomach as you eyed the shadowsinger, who was sitting quietly across the table from you. You couldn’t handle it, knowing that he was your mate and he had no clue. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him finding out, of him potentially rejecting the bond.
After a moment of silently wallowing in your self pity, you felt that familiar talon scrape along your mental shield. Rhys was requesting access to your mind, likely to give you some insight about this unrequited feeling based on his own experience.
You rejected his request instead of letting him in, shooting him a quick glance before standing up abruptly, quietly excusing yourself with the reasoning that you weren’t feeling well.
You rushed up the stairs, toward your bedroom all the while feeling like you were drowning. You needed air, fresh air, now. It was in that moment that you thanked the Cauldron for Rhysand putting you in the bedroom with a large balcony, one perfect for moments like this.
Little did you know, your brother had stalked up the stairs behind you, worried after seeing the panic-stricken look on your face before bolting from the room.
You didn’t bother to close your bedroom door behind you, leaving Cassian the perfect opportunity to come in to check on you. You were out on the balcony in an instant, nearly gasping for air as the cool night breeze hit your face.
“Hey,” Cassian called behind you, standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom. “You alright?”
“I don’t want to talk right now, Cass.” you retort quickly, shooting a glare in his direction before leaning over the metal railing as he furrows his brow. “I obviously don’t feel great at the moment.”
“Yeah, no shit. But that doesn’t warrant you snapping at me when all I’m doing is coming to check on you,” he presses, taking a step onto the balcony to stand by you. “It doesn’t warrant you ignoring me for fucking weeks now.”
“What do you want me to say, Cassian?” you snap, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I—I don’t really know what kind of explanation you need from me, I just haven’t been in a talking mood these last few weeks.”
“Oh, bullshit.” he says, shaking his head at you. “I see you chatting with Rhys and Mor all the fucking time. You’re only shutting me out. What the fuck did I do?”
You take a moment to look up at your brother, finally seeing the hurt sketched across his features as he pleads with you, trying desperately to get through to you.
“You didn’t do anything.” you sigh, letting your guard down as you realize how much you’d hurt your twin in the last few weeks. “I—I just am going through some shit right now.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” he says, nudging your arm with his elbow as a relieved but hesitant smile passes over his face. “I’m always here to lend an ear.”
“Are you sure?” you say, voice cracking as you internally accept that you’re about to change everything in Cassian’s life with four simple words.
“Positive.” Cassian says, smile still on his face as he grips your shoulder to reassure you.
“Azriel is my mate.” you say bluntly, watching in silent terror as your brother’s face falls and so does his hand from your shoulder. “And he has no idea.”
——————————————————————
That was almost two years ago.
Cassian took the news quite well, and became your biggest supporter when it came to dealing with the hardships of an unrequited mating bond. Even as he dealt with his own unrequited bond for a short amount of time, he still made sure to make it known that he still cared for and understood the pain you were going through.
And now that the war against Hybern had been won, you could focus all your energy into training and missions Rhys would send you on.
Rhysand knew you preferred to be sent on solo missions, that you worked better alone without anyone disrupting your focus. But, there were some missions that couldn’t be done alone.
“You–This is a joke, right?” you say with a laugh, narrowing your eyes at the High Lord who sat across the desk in his office, raising his eyebrow at you as you laugh. “I work alone, Rhys.”
“I know you work best alone, but sometimes I can’t send you alone,” Rhys starts, giving you a sharp glare as you start to stand from your chair, “I can’t send you alone, not on this one.”
“Why?” you pressed, pushing off the arms of your chair to move closer to the desk. “You haven’t even told me what I’m doing or where I’ll be going yet, so why should I even agree to it without knowing?”
The look the High Lord was giving you made you uneasy, turning your stomach in knots, but you persisted. You needed him to stop treating you like you were made of glass, like you would break, like you hadn’t been training with Cassian since you could stand.
“I’m not a child anymore, Rhys.” you snapped, hands balling into fists as they pressed against the oak of his large desk. “I can handle whatever it is, without Azriel babysitting me.”
“I really don’t know–”
“Are you trying to torture me?” you interject, a pained expression crossing over your face, one of betrayal at the feeling of one of your longest friends trying to put you in such an uncomfortable position when he knows exactly what you’ve been dealing with over the last two years. “Are you trying to make me suffer, do you want me to –”
“I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys finally commanded, voice wavering slightly as he brought up the place you once called home, the place he knew would send you regressing into a lesser version of yourself. “I need you to go there, with Azriel.”
The mention of Windhaven sent a shiver down your spine, wings twitching in fear as you thought about the horrors you endured in your final years at the camp. Your sharp gaze flickered for a split second, mind running back to that cabin, to the flash of wings and clawing hands, to the male who did irreparable damage to your soul, to the moment you swore you’d never let a male hurt you again. With a shake of your head, you block the thoughts out, pressing that black obsidian wall back up to prevent yourself from breaking.
“I’ll be fine on my own.” you say, putting your stern persona back into place, trying to make it seem as though you’re unbothered.
“I need to send him with you, someone needs to watch your back.” he insists while shaking his head as his gaze softens, trying to get you to break from your hardened facade.
“What about Cass?” you retort, shaking your head.
“He’ll be in Spring, he’s got business with Tamlin and Eris to attend to for me.” he quickly replies, shaking his own head. “Please, I need you to do this.”
“I–I can’t.”
“Is the thought of being alone with me for two days that bad?” a voice comes from behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin.
Your mate, just the person you didn’t want to see right now.
You whip around quickly at the sound of his voice, brow furrowed as you see him standing in the doorway. It takes everything in you not to sigh at the sight of him, at how damn good he looked, just standing there. You cursed yourself internally, wishing you could think about anything else besides how much you pined for him. Still, you had an image to uphold, an image of distaste for the beautiful shadowsinger standing in front of you.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, shadowsinger.” you snap, shooting a glare in his direction that sends a pang of guilt running down the one-sided bond.
“I’m sorry?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, his face the poster child for cool composure as your rage boils in front of him.
“You can barely stand to be in the same room for me for more than five minutes,” you state, crossing your arms matter-of-factly. “You quite literally leave any space in the house when I’m the only other person around.”
The thought of your mate, the one who was supposed to be at your side for all of eternity, leaving the room any time you entered made your blood boil and chest ache. You ached for him, you ached to feel his touch, to be loved by him. But he didn’t care about you, didn’t care if you lived or died.
Seeing the anger in your eyes made Azriel stop in his tracks, something unfamiliar tugging at his heart as you seethed. There was a gnawing feeling in his chest as he thought about the last five hundred years, how he never paid you any mind.
The truth was, he avoided you with every bit of willpower he had in order to restrain himself. He couldn’t be around you for more than a few moments without your overpowering scent filling his nose feeding his desire to tear you apart. Every time he was with you alone, he wanted to tear down any walls that he had and just have at you, to have you as his. He wanted you carnally, he wanted all of you, all of the time.
But that wasn’t the kind of male he was. He would never do such a thing to Cassian, his best friend. He couldn’t let himself have you just to fulfill his deepest desires, you deserved so much more than to be some one night fling. You deserved to be loved and cared for, to be protected at all costs.
So he had ignored you, for almost five fucking centuries, because he thought he couldn’t give you what you deserved. He pushed out any thought he had about you, pushed away the urge to pursue you in any way, and pushed you away in the process. He knew you well from watching from afar, but to you it seemed as though you were the last thought in his mind, when in reality, you were the only thought in his mind at all times.
“That’s not–” Azriel started, but the words fell on his lips as he watched your own pull into a frown, an expression that was much more broken than the anger that had crossed over your face when he snuck in.
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought, you prick.” you said weakly, finally letting your emotions get the better of you. As tears pricked your eyes, you turned to Rhys once more. “I will not be going anywhere with him. I will be going by myself, or not at all. I am strong enough to do this on my own and I’m tired of being treated like a child in this court.”
Rhys only stared at you as you stalked towards the desk once again, watching as your hands shook with pain. He showed no change in emotion as you spoke, fully in High Lord mode instead of the Rhysand you knew and loved.
“I will be in my room, packing. When you’re done being a stubborn male and realize that I can do whatever the hell it is you need me to do, I’ll be waiting for further instructions.” you state, trying to choke back the tears that are threatening to flow onto the wood in front of your hands.
The High Lord nods firmly in response, and you turn on your heels. Azriel is still standing in the doorway, but you don’t dare to look at him. You push past the shadowsinger, swiping your cheeks hastily as tears fall down them. As you pass, your wing brushes his in the lightest of touches. You swallow a gasp as they touch, a shockwave flowing through your wing and going straight to your heart.
Azriel turns to gaze at you with wide eyes and you immediately know he felt it too. He felt the shock, the electricity between your wings, but not in the way you did. Not down the one-sided, golden bond that stretched toward him.
Confusion spread over his face as he looked at you, but you turned away and rushed towards your room before he could fully process what happened.
The rest of your afternoon was spent alone in your room, laying on your bed for most of the night as you stared up at the ceiling. You cursed yourself internally over and over again, wishing there were some way to change everything, some way to make you forget that you even had a mate.
Over and over again, you told yourself how you weren’t worthy of the immeasurable love that came with a mate, how you would never be good enough for Azriel.
It had always been like that for you, though. The feeling of inadequacy was a daily occurrence for you, it wasn’t a secret. Cassian knew it, and so did Rhysand, so you’re sure Azriel did too. You worked day in and day out trying to prove that you were worthy to your brother and the High Lord and everyone around you, regardless of the pain you put yourself in.
Rhysand knew you too well, and knew that you were all too serious about going on the mission by yourself, or at least without Azriel. After you left his office, he’d tried to speak to Cassian about accompanying you, but it was of no use, he was preoccupied. He didn’t want you to go by yourself, he knew you’d be scared just by being in Windhaven again, but he also knew that you being the one to go on this mission was the only hope.
Your untraceable daemati skills were an impeccable weapon that couldn’t be replaced by Azriel’s shadows or Cassian’s brute force. Even the High Lord himself didn’t have daemati powers as stealthful as yours, so you were the best option when it came to figuring out who was trying to rebel.
After much contemplation, Rhys eventually sent a concise and firm message to your mind.
I need you in Windhaven by dinner tonight, Devlon will be expecting you to be there. There are a few Illyrians that I need you to check in on while you’re there, Cass told me there are talks of rebellion led by Cormac and Bavlard. he explained, you should only need to be there for tonight to gather enough information, but plan to stay until tomorrow evening in case we need more intel. You’ll stay in the cabin as usual, I’ll be in contact regularly to check on you, since you’ll be on your own this time.
The last sentence had a smile flickering on your lips, happy that Rhysand was finally taking you seriously as a member of his Inner Circle and trusting you enough to send you on missions by yourself. Luckily, you were already packed so it didn’t take much for you to get ready to go.
In less than an hour, you were dressed in your fighting leathers and on the balcony of your room. You waste no time in flying from the house, large wings spreading for the first time in what feels like forever as you make for the sky.
The breeze against your skin makes you sigh with joy, trying to enjoy the twinge of happiness that flying gives you as you make your way towards the place you once called home, the place you now call hell.
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About Tradition and Responsibility
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x WifeF!Reader
Summary: You, a non-Jujutsu sorcerer, married the Gojo Satoru. After having your first child, the higher-ups demand to meet you and your first born son.
Warning tags: protective!Satoru, tiny angst if you squint, non-jujutsu sorcerer reader, no y/n usage
Author's Notes: hiii, i wrote this based on my own post, having one of my favorite tropes (protectiveness)! this might have a second part i haven't wrote yet, we shall see. enjoy your reading!
You keep your head down, trying to focus on the peaceful expression of the baby in your arms, your first newborn son, Kotaro. He is perfect, from his white curls to his tiny toes. You can't help but give him a small smile, your hands gripping his little body, promising silently to always protect him from any harm in the world. You feel so much love for your son that it is difficult to understand anyone who could find his existence wrong due to one ridiculous minuscule detail: when Kotaro opens his eyes, they are your eye color. Not your husband's vivid, ethereal blue eyes.
Because of that, Kotaro Gojo is considered a waste of time—almost a mistake, but no one would dare say that in front of you or his father.
The door in front of you opens, and an older lady announces that the elders are ready to see you. You get up from the bench, bringing Kotaro closer to your chest.
It is finally time to face your curses.
-x-
When Gojo Satoru decided to marry a non-jujutsu user, the higher-ups thought it was a joke. A good one especially coming from Gojo, who was known to do anything to piss off the hierarchy of the Jujutsu world, as if Satoru's whole existence wasn't on top of all that, as if any of those ancient and outdated men had anything to complain about the woman he chose as his wife.
However, when Gojo decided to proceed with this marriage, most were still shocked. They never thought Gojo would marry anyone, so soon, interest spiked in the mysterious woman he decided to marry.
You wish you could tell your first meeting with the strongest sorcerer had been something glorious, but no. It was in your small candy shop, the one passed down to you by your parents from their parents. On a rainy day, that strange tall man with white bandages and white hair entered, sniffing the air like a hound dog. Gojo insisted on buying all the sweets you had on display, and instead of leaving, heard you explain how you made each of them, fascinated.
After that day, Satoru started appearing daily, buying all the sweets on display by the end of the day. Gojo always mentioned he first fell in love with your cooking, but you didn't know when exactly you fell in love with him. Maybe it was the comfort of having someone understand those sudden chills around your body as if something had been watching you until Satoru entered the shop. He never found that weird at all.
At first, Gojo kept you away as best as he could. You could sense curses with a chill in your body but couldn't see them (a blessing, for what Gojo described sometimes). And since you met your now-future-husband, as powerful as you could remotely grasp he was, Gojo was also the silliest and most annoying man you ever met. If you got upset with something he did for any reason, he would not leave you alone until you reassured him you weren't mad anymore. On top of that, Satoru was easily manipulated with sweets. Again, a big grown baby.
He never shared the consequences of what it meant to marry him. The letters started coming two months after the marriage, with your name on them, presenting themselves as chairpeople of the Jujutsu Sorcerers, and they were eager to meet you whenever you could. Gojo always told you to ignore those letters, throw them in the trash, and burn them if you wanted.
Then Kotaro was born. It had been a normal pregnancy, with the usual sickness in the morning and mood swings, but at least your baby was born healthy. You couldn't be happier, and Gojo couldn't be happier. The baby not having the same blue eyes didn't concern your husband, reassuring you that everything was fine.
Until it wasn't: the letter that made you come into this meeting with the elders without your husband's knowledge had a clear underlying threat in those polite words: You were to bring Kotaro for them to look at, or they would be forced to bring you in. Gojo had shielded you from this for far too long.
As soon as you enter the oval room, you notice the covers: you can't see any faces, but you are sure all stares are on you and your baby. Kotaro rubs his face against your chest, and you bring him closer, shielding him from their judgmental glances.
"Come forward." A masculine voice demands.
You walk in the middle of the room and stop. No one speaks.
"You wanted to see me?" You ask, surprised your voice isn't trembling. You wonder if they can hear your heart exploding in your chest.
"Yes. We never had the chance to meet with the wife of Gojo Satoru; he has kept you hidden for a long time."
"I am sure he had his reasons."
"Not that it matters who Gojo Satoru decided to marry, but his decisions impact the Jujutsu World, wanting or not." An older voice speaks, clearly angry with your disobedience.
"And who would stop him from making those decisions?" You question, trying to sound courteous but instead sounding resentful. Satoru has told you about these higher-ups: focused on their old ways, not allowing anything that disturbs their way. Only their way is correct. Tradition. Anything that breaks from the fine formal line should be eliminated. "No one can stop Gojo Satoru from doing what he wants. As his wife, I should be the first one to know."
Silence. You breathe deeply, part of you still fearful of what is about to come. They have yet to speak about Kotaro, so you dread the inevitable moment. Now, something deep inside of you screams you should have told Satoru. What if you walked straight into a trap?
"Your child." A third voice speaks, and the whole atmosphere of the room seems to change when he mentions your son. You grip Kotaro's small body again, ready for what will come. "He does not possess the same eyes as his father, as we can see."
"So? It is not like every single member of the clan was born with six eyes." You ask defiantly.
"Of course not," The man snickers. "But this is Gojo Satoru's son. Haven't you thought about the consequences of having a child with a man like that?"
"Satoru keeps us safe! And if he isn't here, I keep my child safe. Never underestimate the love a mother has for her child."
"There is no doubt in a mother's love for her child. There is also no doubt that some might carry a heavy hatred for Gojo Satoru. If, for some reason, you were caught vulnerable…"
"What? What are you talking about?" Your voice shakes a little, but you keep yourself steady. For Kotaro.
"Many curses and even sorcerers have hidden and disappeared because of Gojo. Many fear him. When your husband was born, he altered the balance of our world. If there is an even remote possibility Gojo can't defend himself or, even worse, if you get pregnant again and this baby comes with six eyes…we can't even imagine how bad it would be the repercussions." The tone of false concern disgusts you. Sensing your uneasiness, Kotaro starts whining, and you start rocking him.
You are not stupid. Those men didn't care about you or your baby's safety. They wanted six eyes that they could control, nothing else, nothing more. You haven't given any proof that you are worthy of being married to Satoru.
You don't get to answer because the door behind you opens, and all eyes are directed to the man behind you. You don't even have to turn around, your sixth sense telling you: Satoru. And he is pissed. He takes a moment to analyze the room in front of him, seeing you in the middle with your son in his arms, crying. His son crying. Gojo walks in, no blindfold on, without asking for permission (not that anyone was waiting for one), and ignores everyone as he stops right before you.
His blue eyes scan you and Kotaro from the top of your head to the feet, concerned.
"Are you okay? Is Kotaro okay?" Satoru asks in a gentle tone, ignoring anyone around. You nod, starting to form an apology, but he shakes his head, calming you. "There's nothing to apologize for. You did well. You always do well. Stand beside me, okay?"
You nod as Satoru forms a shield between you and the higher-ups. Surprisingly, Kotaro has stopped whining, feeling his dad is close by. No one speaks, and everyone seems to be holding down their breaths.
"So," Satoru's tone is calm, "who cares to explain how my wife and son ended up here?"
No answer comes, and you can sense the fear over the room, which differs from your husband's posture. Those who don't know him might believe in Satoru's calm posture, but you and probably the rest of the elders knew this was only a façade. In Satoru's veins, there is only anger. The only reason any of those higher-ups are still alive is because of your and Kotaro's presence. Not because Satoru would hurt you or his son if he had to kill them, but because he didn't want to shock you or accidentally make you fear him. You had never seen him kill before.
You don't know yet what lengths he would go to protect you and his child.
"We were just worried about her well-being, that's all." Some brave higher-up answers and Gojo snickers.
"Oh? More worried than her husband then?"
"You know, we had to meet her eventually. You kept her away from our world, your world, for far too long."
"And she was fine until you brought her into this. My wife and my son are none of your concerns."
"Not if she births a child with six eyes. Then it is our concern." Your body tenses behind Gojo, immediately causing him to react back, his murderous energy filling the room. If you felt it, those elders felt it as well, silencing them.
Kotaro starts crying again, sensing the threatening energy in the room. You had never felt such a destructive sensation coming from your husband before, but you managed to grab Satoru's arm.
"'Toru? Kotaro is scared." And you are scared.
The energy instantly leaves, and Satoru turns around, worried. You tremble with fear, and Kotaro bawls, tears dropping from his eyes. He instantly places his black blindfold on his eyes before taking Kotaro from your arms and gently rocking him.
"Can we leave, please?" You ask, and Satoru nods, grabbing your hand with his free one. Before turning around to leave, he announces in a frightening tone to the entire room, "If I ever hear any of you trying to make any sort of contact with my wife or son, I won't be so merciful."
With that, Gojo Satoru pulls you away from that horrible place you promised to never see again.
-x-
Satoru dismisses the driver who drove you there. Instead, he takes you to his car, finding Kiyotaka Ijichi with a nervous smile when he sees you. You manage to smile back, and Ijichi seems relieved that you and Kotaro are okay. The ride home is silent, and Satoru never lets go of your hand. Kotaro is in the other one, sleeping safely in his arms. You can't bear to look at your husband, too afraid of what you are about to see: disappointment? Anger? He would be right to feel like that. You endangered not only yourself but Kotaro in this whole situation.
After Ijichi leaves you at home, you gently take a sleepy Kotaro away from your husband's arms. Satoru had this enchantment with your son, making him feel calm and safe. Like mother like son, you guess. You place Kotaro gently on his mat, watching as he gets comfortable. How careless of you to put your son in such a dangerous situation.
"Do you want to talk about this?" Satoru whispers, and you shake your head.
"I am sorry." To Kotaro. To Satoru. To yourself. "I thought I could—"
Satoru slowly closes the proximity between you two. He waits, watching the tears flowing down your eyes, sitting at your side, and when you hide your face on his shoulders, his arms are around you, bringing you to his lap.
"You had no idea."
"I endangered our son! Do you know how serious that is?"
"You would never let them do anything to him."
"How would I even stop them, Satoru?"
"I don't know, but I know you. You would find a way." Satoru simply shrugs, which sounds to him like the most obvious answer, and you don't know if you laugh or cry or his hopes on you. "Which would involve bringing me there."
"Yes, bring my most dangerous weapon: Satoru Gojo." You two chuckle low so you don't wake up Kotaro.
"Nothing will ever happen to you or Kotaro. I won't allow it. Be sure of it."
"They said you have enemies…"
"Who wouldn't dare to lay a finger on one stray of Kotaro's hair. Or yours. Come on, you don't have some faith in me?"
Remembering the amount of energy you felt earlier, you feel a chill pass your body. "I do, 'Toru. I was crazy enough to marry you."
"And would you lose the chance to be the luckiest woman alive?"
"With the most pretentious husband ever." You roll your eyes, feeling happy inside. The earlier one may have scared you. But you know this Satoru, back to his usual pretentious self.
You get more comfortable in Satoru's lap, your eyes never entirely leaving Kotaro. He looks so peaceful with his eyes closed like that; he is Satoru 100%, except for his eyes. What blame did he have? You vowed to protect and love him as soon as he came out of you, no matter what came after him. And by the looks on Satoru's face, he also does.
Slowly, you can feel your eyes getting heavy as you become more comfortable in Satoru's arms—like a mother, like son.
"Rest, my love. I will take care of it all. I will never leave you, I promise."
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x you#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru fanfic#gojo satoru fanfics#satoru gojo fanfic#satoru gojo fanfics
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Rage, rage | eight
index
Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC
Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.
Warnings: blood, injuries, description of injuries, self harm, bad familiar relationships, PTSD
Nimue and Azriel had bid farewell to everyone else before heading towards the Spring Court.
They had left early in the morning, winnowing themselves to the forest right in front of Tamlin's mansion. There, Nimue had magically bypassed any possible guards that the High Lord or his cousins had placed in the territory, and they waited among the trees, among the bushes.
Beside her, Azriel had shed the calm demeanor the princess had known the night before. Now, with all senses alert, he was the master spy of the Night Court. Nimue, hidden from view with a simple spell, couldn't help but watch as the Shadowsinger blended into the shadows of the trees, sometimes glimpsing only his eyes.
"What's the plan?" Azriel asked. They were waiting, not knowing for what.
"I'll go in, convince them you were torturing me, play dead, and when they least expect it, I'll kill my cousins and Jurian. But first, I'll find out their plans; I'm good at listening behind walls."
Azriel frowned.
He wanted to trust her, to put all his blind faith in her plan. In his right hand, he felt the promise tattoo they made last night pulsing.
"Okay. Keep me informed; every night I'll visit you to hear what you've discovered. Even if you don't see me, rest assured I'll always be there covering your back," Azriel raised a hand from among the shadows and touched Nimue, his hand on the female's muscular shoulder. He felt a shiver run down his spine and immense heat under the glove, the princess's body radiating a warmth so familiar that it made Azriel's bones melt.
Nimue looked at him and with a quick movement, pulled him towards her, a superhuman force making Azriel almost lose his balance. She held onto him, an embrace meant to crush bones that Azriel gladly reciprocated.
They stayed like that for a couple of seconds or a couple of minutes, they weren't sure, sheltered in each other's warmth, in the calmness of the bond between them.
"Thank you for trusting me, Azriel."
Get her out of here. She's in danger, she's scared. We can't let her go with those people.
Azriel squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the warnings of his own shadows, and took a step back, letting go of the female. He stayed there, hidden among the foliage shadows, and under his watchful gaze, Nimue raised a hand on which appeared a knife made of light.
What was she going to...?
Nimue grasped the handle of the knife made of her own magic, and began with her arms: from her wrists to her elbows, she made small but deep cuts from which blood soon began to flow, dripping onto the forest floor.
When the smell of her blood reached his palate, Azriel felt like he was going to vomit. All his senses focused solely on that, on the dripping blood, on how the female was cutting her own flesh. Something inside him, deep within his being, stirred.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" before he was even aware, he had already taken a step forward, grabbing Nimue's hands and pulling them apart, his gloves staining with the red fluid.
"They have to believe that you've hurt me, that you've tortured me and I've escaped. I'll say you drugged me with faebane and that in one of your oversights I managed to flee."
Nimue freed herself from Azriel's grasp, and continued with the task, this time she stabbed herself in the same arm, staining her clothes with her own blood.
He felt his body starting to heal on its own, so with her magic she kept the wounds open and minimized the pain as much as possible to remain conscious even after losing so much blood. When she removed the knife from her thigh, she only felt a slight tingling.
Azriel felt like he was about to faint. All that blood, flowing in streams over Nimue's precious white skin, over the neat dress she wore and the undergrowth beneath her feet.
Nimue finally tore her clothes and made some final cuts on her face, and looked at Azriel.
Then she realized he was trembling, still as a statue and staring at her, his eyes wide. Around him, those shadows danced frantically from side to side, some bold enough to approach her and hover over her cuts.
"I'll be fine. Wish me luck, pretty face."
Azriel swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He had seen it all, dismembered soldiers and people torn apart. By the Mother, he had done worse things to many people.
But seeing her like this...
They exchanged one last look, and Nimue started walking away, leaving the shelter of the forest.
The sunlight blinded her and she had to squint. She had chosen the perfect moment, as she just saw her cousins cross the mansion door and start descending the stairs. Behind them, the hateful human and the High Lord.
She had to focus on the cuts, on keeping them open, on mitigating the pain. She limped, dragging her right leg, her shoes soaked with all the blood she was losing, and when she saw her cousins looking at her, she let herself fall to the ground.
She searched every small corner of her being, every bit of anger she had suppressed over the last month, and pulled and pulled. She pulled until she felt herself explode, and let herself go.
She began to cry loudly, pretending false relief, letting out sobs typical of someone truly escaping from torture. Although in reality, she was just going back to the torturers.
She feigned relief when her cousins ran towards her and crossed the distance separating them in record time. She feigned relief when she felt them kneel beside her, asking her questions, starting to heal her wounds with their magic. She feigned relief when, between sobs and fake complaints, she began to answer them.
"They tortured me," she said. She took a breath and let out another false sob, this time her gaze fixed on Tamlin and Lucien, who were approaching cautiously. "They drugged me with faebane and tortured me. They're monsters."
Her cousins comforted her and ran their hands over her body, covering the wounds with their hands and closing them with that black and rotten magic that gave Nimue chills.
They kept asking her things and she answered, with little detail and between sobs: they had skipped a dose of faebane and that's how she had managed to escape, they had asked her about the Cauldron and her father's army, they had hurt her so much...
Her cousins bought it the first time, trusting their little innocent cousin, the king's beloved jewel. What reasons would the little princess have to lie?
However, between tears, she could see that Jurian didn't quite believe her. It didn't matter; sooner or later, he would fall too. And if not, she would kill him before he opened his mouth.
When they had healed all her wounds and the tears subsided, her cousins lifted her from the grass and led her carefully into the mansion. The blind faith the twins had in her was impressive, for they had also learned to see her for what she was: the key that would lead them to win the war.
They crossed the gate of the house and reached the vestibule. Before the doors closed behind them, Nimue glanced back, towards the edges of the forest, and with some effort managed to spot him.
Azriel stood there, astonished, following every detail of the scene with his mouth open. It had been so, so easy. And Nimue was so, so good at pretending.
A small pang of suspicion made it hard for him to breathe, but he soon felt the warmth of the tattoo on his right hand, as a reminder that he should trust, that he should trust the princess.
He fixed his gaze on her, on the other side of that clearing and inside the mansion's vestibule, and even at all those meters away, Azriel glimpsed the small cruel and rotten smile that the princess directed at him.
Here Nimue's plan began. Like a slow-acting poison, she would ensure to indirectly harm her father so much that he would think twice about even looking in the direction of Prythian.
The doors finished closing, and she turned her gaze forward, to her cousins, to Tamlin and Jurian, who a few meters away from her were discussing something quietly. She looked around, at the beauty of the house that Feyre had described to her, which, although somewhat neglected, was still just as intoxicating, when she felt a presence behind him.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the tan skin, the reddish hair. She didn't bother to turn around, but Lucien spoke low enough for none of those present to hear but her:
"You're not going to fool me, little princess," he whispered in her ear. Nimue turned slightly to look the male in the eyes. Amazed, she met the mechanical golden orb, while the other eye looked at her with suspicion and scrutiny. "I know no one forced you to escape from Hybern, I know what they're like in the Night Court. The others might not have noticed it, but the disgusting smell of the Shadowsinger was suffocating at the edge of the forest."
Nimue looked at him, a silly smile on her face.
"I like you, Lucien," she whispered back. She turned her gaze forward again, still feeling the male's presence behind her. "But I don't know what you're talking about."
Lucien growled and took a step back.
Nimue couldn't wipe the smile off her face. This was going to be fun.
She had spent the day testing the waters, tempting fate with innocent questions, silently observing how the relationship between the Spring Court and Hybern's people worked. She excused herself from dinner early, and under the watchful gaze of everyone present, she left the huge dining room.
As soon as she was out of sight, she ran through the hallways she had memorized all afternoon. She knew which corners to turn and which corridors to navigate, and she reached the door of what was her new room. When she entered, she closed the huge wooden door and covered all the walls with her magical guards: nothing and no one could see, hear, or feel what happened inside.
She smelled Azriel's scent in the room above the touches of roses and fruits, but still didn't feel his presence. She kept looking and inspecting the room from top to bottom, absorbing every detail, when she saw something on her bed: the same candies that Feyre had offered her in the Night Court.
Nimue felt her body vibrating with joy, feeling seen and loved. That someone, anyone, had thought of her and had managed to get those candies there.
She took the first one and brought it to her mouth, immersed in that intoxicating sensation that eating something so delicious produced in her, and didn't realize that Azriel was there, among the shadows cast by the moonlight in the room.
He simply remained silent, watching her in the midst of that raid she was carrying out on the candies he had left there, so she wouldn't forget. So she wouldn't forget that her place was in Velaris, with them.
With us.
"I'm glad you liked the surprise."
Nimue wasn't even surprised. She just kept enjoying the candies, glancing over her shoulder at Azriel.
"I knew deep down in your heart you'd end up caring for me."
She turned completely towards him, mouth full of sweets, hands sticky, and Azriel could swear he would die right there.
How could he not care for her, when there was something inside him that melted every time he looked in her direction, when their skins brushed against each other?
"How has your day been? Are you alright, have they done anything to you?" Azriel's voice tinged with concern did not go unnoticed by Nimue, who, smiling at him again, dropped onto the bed. She patted the space next to her on the adorned quilt, but the Shadowsinger stood in front of her, looking down at her.
"They haven't done anything to me, don't worry. They wouldn't dare because they know what I'm capable of, and they've played their part well."
Azriel frantically searched for any marks of the wounds and blood he had seen on the princess's skin, but found that the only scars there were the usual ones, those covering the fingers of her hands and caused by all the hours training with weapons. He felt something inside him click again, his most primitive instinct to protect her relaxing when he saw her whole and unharmed.
"Good. I'll pass on everything you tell me to Rhysand, and if you need anything just ask."
Nimue bit her tongue. She needed something, but she wasn't going to ask for it out loud. She wasn't going to ask Azriel to stay there that night, next to her. She wasn't going to tell him that being back with her psychopathic cousins had stirred something inside her, that putting on that mask of the evil princess had brought her back to her former life, where her stay in Velaris would have been nothing but a fever dream.
They looked at each other, in silence, and it seemed that Azriel understood what Nimue wanted to say, even without her uttering a word. He held her hands, which he hadn't let go of all that time, and knelt in front of the princess.
"I'll stay guard while you sleep," he whispered. Nimue swallowed the lump forming in her throat and prayed to the Cauldron not to start crying at that moment. "I'll make sure nothing happens and you won't be alone. You rest."
Nimue nodded and quickly got into bed under Azriel's watchful gaze, and as she drifted off to sleep, she whispered to him:
"In a couple of days, we'll be back in Velaris, and I'll make sure you show me the best bakeries in the city."
Azriel smiled tenderly, watching as Nimue drifted off to sleep, and stood guard until the sun was high in the sky.
Taglist:
@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @donttellthecats @annblvd @annamariereads16 @crazylokonugget @smoooothoperator @superspideyparker @bookwormysblog
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#azriel#azriel imagine#azriel x oc#azriel x reader#cassian#rhysand#azriel x female!reader
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intoxicating
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word count: 4.1k
warnings: grinding, drinking, cussing, plz lemme know if i forgot anything else :3
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the first thing people took notice of when they looked at you -
that mesmerizing smile.
the way you carried yourself was so profound, as if every bad thing thrown your way would just bounce right off.
your bubbly energy enraptured everybody around you, feeding off of your wide grins, and constant laughter bringing a sense of joy into their life.
earning your nickname; sweet girl.
everyone loved you from the beginning.
i mean... who wouldn't?
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"Sweetheart, you have got to get ahold of yourself."
"I do- I don't know what makes you think I don't."
A scoff left Garcia's glossed lips, as she stared at your frantic fingers messing with your hair, trying to apply everything all at once. Reaching for your signature perfume, spraying a good dosage on to ensure it stays on the whole night. The blonde had come over to get ready for a night out in the town with your fellow co-workers, including a certain brunette that you had a soft spot for.
Your hair was not cooperating with you. Not. In. The. Slightest.
Does this dress make me look- too much?
Who the hell made this damn mousse-
"If you touch your hair one more time, I will personally make it my life's mission to get rid of your existence." She grabbed a hold of your arm, tugging you out of the bathroom despite your protests. "Spencer won't care what your hair looks like when he's got you underneath him."
A gasp left your lips, smacking Penelope's giggling behind as she ran away from you towards your front door. "Or above him- whatever you're into sweet cheeks."
"Oh! I'm going to get your ass, Pen."
"Tell that to Mr. Hotchner!"
Penelope ripped the front door open, revealing a startled Hotch who had just raised his fist to knock on your house door. A smug smirk graced the blonde's lips, sticking her tongue out at you as she ran towards the SUV where Morgan was waiting. You stood there with a pout on your lips, grabbing your purse from your entrance table. Hotch eyed your dressed up figure, feeling his heart rate pick up as you made your way over to him your perfume engulfing his senses.
"Hiya Hotch." Wrapping your arm around his waist, giving the older man a tight squeeze letting your free hand lock the door behind you stuffing your keys into your purse. Penelope and you might have had one too many shots, the constant cheesing on your face giving you away.
"Hello sweet girl." Hotch had known you long enough to see you in every situation imaginable, including your drunk side. He chuckled as you left your arm around him, not minding it for a second as you guys walked down the steps to the car. "Are we sure this isn't the aftermath of the bar?"
You let out a small giggle, knowing he was partially right. Hotch opened up the car door for you, helping you into the lifted vehicle a small thank you leaving your lips as you scooted further in as he squeezed in behind you.
The car smelled like people who had were planning on getting laid. Hotch’s cologne smelled of leather and cinnamon. Whilst Morgans cologne smelled of coconut and sugar; not enough to be irritating to the nose. Both you and Penelope's perfumes smelled soft and sweet, contrasting with the guys.
Penelope was blasting Kesha through the SUV, while Morgan attempted to turn it down without her noticing. Either she noticed or didn't care, allowing her voice to do the work for her as she embodied Kesha.
"We are just getting started, I promise. You should join us! Didn't Morgan draw the short stick for tonight? Leaves you perfectly able to get wasted with us,"
Morgan gave you a glare in the rearview mirror, not letting your mocking affect his driving as he tried his best to follow the law with his boss as his passenger. Hotch just shook his head as you unzipped your purse showing him the contents inside.
His eyebrow raised, he saw several colorful shooters clinking around in the small accessory adorning your body, a smile gracing your warming skin. You took out a bright green shooter, shoving it into his hands.
"What in the-"
"Pen. Catch." Penelope didn't even have to move, her hands expertly catching the pink shot you had picked out just for her. You opted for a blue one, knowing this flavor in specific masked the taste as best it could making it easier to down.
You raised your eyebrow back up at Hotch cracking your drink open, a soft sigh left his lips knowing you wouldn't back down. He proceeded to crack his open, whoops leaving the girls lips. Clinking your shot against his bringing the cold glass to your lips, allowing the burning sensation to trickle down your throat
Hotch was used to harder liquor, but something about the neon colored vodka was already making him feel a little warm. Shaking his head at the taste, putting the lid back on the drink as he watched you reach for another.
"Woah, sweet girl... you sure you can handle another?"
Your rolled your eyes at his concerning words, easily tossing another shooter back as you opened your mouth to show it was gone. Hotch felt a small smirk tug at his lips at the sight, adjusting himself in his seat subtly.
"I almost flunked out of college my freshman year because I was getting drunk every weekend. I learned my handful of tricks- I would put Dr. Reid to shame." Morgan whistled, making Garcia laugh as she reminisced on some of the stories you had told her. An ever-growing smirk graced your lips, re-applying a generous amount of lip gloss to your lips.
Hotch eyed the bubbly girl, as she made herself comfortable against the taller man. He spread his jean cladded legs as she plopped her purse on his lap, using him as a table rummaging through the contents. Choosing to ignore the sensation of her nimble fingers ghosting over his dark wash jeans, adjusting his position on the leather seat. She pulled out another shooter and mingled it into his hands, a small chuckle bubbling in his chest.
"You're going to have to show me one day, baby."
"Wouldn't you love to see that, sweet boy?"
Morgan smirked up at you as he pulled up to the valet who were excited to take the keys from your favorite Agent, sending a wink to the blushing girl holding the keys. You were about to open the door, almost jumping as you saw Hotch had already beaten you to it. Looking back and forth between the door and your now empty seat beside you, the grinning raven haired man made your heart skip a beat.
"How-"
"Your intoxicated state is making your reaction time slow," His deep voice hummed into your ear, his hands splaying across your back allowing his warmth to keep you from shivering. Hotch lent his arm out, grasping onto his bicep firmly as you made your way into the bar. The shooter you had given the older man tucked away in his jeans, holding your body close to ensure you wouldn't run off.
It didn't take long for Hotch have to glare at the wandering eyes of plenty of men who were attempting to undress you with their nasty eyes. He knew men were absolute garbage as time had gone by, but he knew that he would never let these ones especially anywhere near you tonight.
It didn't take long for you to find your other co-workers even in all of the chaos, the place bordering a club atmosphere. The bar was currently playing one of your favorite songs, allowing the music to guide your body. You let your grip loosen as you made a beeline towards JJ who was smiling widely up at you, a bright pink coating her cheeks. Your heels clicking mesmerizingly against the stone floor, having mastered the art in running in those strappy shoes.
"JJ!! I missed youuuu," You hurriedly wrapped your arms around her neck, pressing a glossed kiss onto her cheek. She let out a muffled laugh as she held you tighter. "Where is-"
"Spence? Right behind you, honey." The giggling girl whispered into your ear, you spun on your heel making eye contact with the man you had been thinking about all night. A smile made its way onto your lips, taking a seat beside the brunette.
As if he couldn't get anymore attractive.
The sight of his dark green cardigan bringing out the green in his hazel eyes, hidden behind his god forsaken sexy ass glasses.
What kind of test do they have to pass to work at the BAU? It seemed like every man and woman had to make your knees buckle to work there.
"Hiya Spence."
The flustered boy tucked his hair behind his ear, turning in his seat to give you his undivided attention. Your perfume infiltrating his nostrils, before having heard your voice. A smell he was all too keen on knowing, wetting his bottom lip nervously. "Oh h-hi!"
The conscious part of your brain attempted to send signals to your body to be smart, your drunk limbs ignoring it as you allowed your legs to entwine with his slack cladded leg closest to you. His breath hitching a small gasp leaving his pink lips.
Elle feigned a dramatic hand over her chest, her dress showing off her curves in all the right places. The girl walked over to you, your smile having not left your lips since getting in the car. Smacking a wet kiss on your dark haired friends cheek who just wrapped an arm around your waist. "We were about to send out a search party. We thought Morgan got you guys lost again,"
"Oh he most definitely did, I think the aftershave has made him lose some brain cells over the years." You teased the burly man, who shot you a glare reaching over the table to flick your forehead a gasp leaving your lips. You detangled your legs from Spencers missing the warmth almost as soon as you detached, sending a harsh kick to Morgan who hissed at your heels.
"Son of a bitch. Watch your back, sweet cheeks."
"Want me to kiss it better?" A small twinkle shone in his eyes, his usual flirty smirk making its way onto his face. You turned on your charm, resting your face on your hands as you batted your eyelashes at the man your glossy lips parted open. Everyone at the table watched in amusement as Morgan practically melted at her doe eyes looking up at him, leaning closer to her face.
"I would love nothing more-"
"I call dibs first, Chocolate Thunder." Penelope butted in, making her first appearance at the table a tray full of drinks. She handed you your signature drink, the vibrant color matching her outfit. Clapping your hands as you blew a kiss to the blonde, wrapping your lips around the straw humming happily at the cold liquid making its way down your throat.
"No need to call dibs when I've already kissed you, baby cheeks."
"You're not special, Derek. We've all kissed, sweets." All the girls threw in their words of agreement, a chuckle leaving Spencers lips as he watched the look of disbelief on Morgan's face. "Sweet as her name, she is."
"Don't make me kiss you on the mouth again, Pen."
"Maybe that's what I'm hinting at, sweet girl."
A burst of giggles left the girls mouths as they all grabbed ahold of the shots Garcia had bought everyone.
Well, everyone except Morgan.
She had grabbed something strong; wanting to ensure it did what it was intended to do. You had seen Spencer had also proceeded to throw back a shot a small wince leaving his lips. "You would think after 9,006 years, that we would know how to mask the taste of alcohol."
"I like the pain. Gives a little thrill, don't you think?" Tilting your head at the doctor whose eyes widened a little, his cheeks flushing pink. A small giggle left your lips placing your hand dangerously close to his thigh, turning your attention to the raven haired man beside you.
"What are you nursing there, Hotch?" He turned to his left, eyeing the glossy eyed girl a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he showed her his glass. "Mind if I have a sip?"
"Of course, go ahead." The girl gently took the glass from his hands, taking a small sip of the drink a soft hum leaving her lips. He felt his chest tighten at the sight of her lips on the same glass his were just on. She just grinned at the man, handing him back his jacket and coke. "Not bad- too Hotch for me."
Gently rising from your chair at the table, gaining the attention of everyone at the table a grin already plastered on your face. Spencer eyed your radiating body, his brain turning to mush as he tried to focus on the words leaving your pretty lips. Chugging the rest of your cocktail, the cold feeling nice on your warming face. "Time to dance!"
Penelope wasted no time, dragging a more than ready Morgan onto the swarm of people on the dance floor. JJ and Elle had already partnered up, their swaying bodies entwined together. Leaving you in between Spencer and Hotch. Both who looked absolutely delicious-
Hold on- what?
Delicious?
I mean...
Hotch's black polo did absolute numbers for his muscular body. His biceps just about bulging out of the shirt, snug around his lean torso. Wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around his waist. And don't even mention his gorgeous eyes, with their specks of green becoming visible the closer you got to him.
And then Spencer.
That boy looked like straight out of a rom com. His puppy eyes staring at you intently like nothing around you existed. His button ups fitting him just right, the cardigans about to swallow him whole wishing you were in them as well.
"Sweets?"
The sound of Hotchs raspy voice speaking broke you out of your trance, blinking away your borderline wet dream about your co-worker and superior. Taking notice of Spencers empty seat, turning to Hotch with a confused look on your face. "He went to the restroom. Everything okay? You were unresponsive there for a second."
"Y-yes. Sorry, I was- I don't even know. You guys both looked so good, my brain did an override." The words were spewing out of your mouth like muscle memory, a shocked expression filtering over the usually furrowed mans face. "How about that dance?"
"Oh no, I don't-"
"Hotchner, don't start. I was promised a dance,"
"-I think that was you doing the promising." You grabbed ahold of his wrist, tugging the protesting man whose eyes had grown soft. "You're awfully strong when you're drunk. Did you know that?"
"I think it's similar to when crack heads do crack, except without the crack." You shouted into his ear, the music practically making it near impossible to hear. Hotch just let a laugh slip out, his hands having found their home on your hips barely touching you, afraid he would mess it all up.
Pitbull had begun to blast through the club, your body swinging to the beat having known the rhythm a little too well for your liking. The clubs lights had gotten dark, except for the strobe lights and stage lights lighting up the crowd every now and then. You could see Penelope shouting the words at Morgan who bared an amused stare at the blonde, dancing with her drunken form the pink spotlight lighting up her blonde hair perfectly.
A whine left your lips at the lack of contact with your dance partner, pressing your body against the towering man above you knowing this exact situation must be written somewhere on what not to do with your boss. He almost halted his movements if it weren't for your hands finding his and wrapping his arms further around your waist. Hands finding their home around his neck, chills going down his spine as he felt how close you were to him.
As if your bodies were made just for one another; you moved in synch with each other, neither of you having to give cues as if you guys had been doing this for years.
Hotch felt this body growing hotter the longer you were grinding up against him, a small line of guilt bubbling inside but his body seemed to be doing all the thinking for him. His hands tightening their grip on your hips as he pulled you impossibly closer to him a soft gasp leaving your lips. Your body swaying and turning in his grasp pressing your ass against his growing member, Hotch's head leaning into your neck.
You rolled your head back leaning against Hotch's muscular body, trying to see if it was your mind playing tricks on your or if it truly was what you thought it was poking against your ass. Every touch felt- electric.
The pawing at your body from Hotch made your body writhe in his grasp, feeling yourself getting drunk in his touch. Turning back around to face him, wondering what was running through his head right now.
Hotch must have know how crazy he looked as he felt. Scanning every inch of her face, cupping her face in his warm calloused hand tucking her hair away from her face.
He could see every tiny freckle, and scar on your face. The sparkly gloss coating your lips enticing him the longer you mouthed the words close to his chest. Every one of his senses were focused on you.
Your perfume.
Your body.
Your gorgeous eyes.
He couldn't look away-
"If you wanted to kiss me Hotch, you could have just asked,"
Before Hotch could lean down and press his awaiting lips on yours, you detached your limbs from the man a giant grin gracing your features. Waving at the approaching figure, tugging the brunette closer to you. The older man almost rolled his eyes, keeping his hands tucked into his pocket his fingers knocking with the shooter you had gifted him earlier.
"Spence! I was about to send out a search party,"
The blushing boy tried to stammer out a response, his eyes locking with Hotch's. His boss; correction, his friend was staring at him as if he had just came out and told him he was the unsub on a case. Wiping his clammy hands against his dark slacks, wondering what he had interrupted.
"The line to the bathroom was long. If it weren't for the fact that I had to-"
"Did you know that Aaron is a good dancer?" You shouted in Spencers direction, the name slipping off your tongue sweet like honey.
Hotch turned to face the girl replaying the sound of his name falling off of her lips over and over again, hoping she would say it again. Spencer raised a surprised eyebrow at the cheesing girl, whose hold on him hadn't faltered.
"I'm not too surprised. His stature and athleticism point him in the direction of having better coordination than the average person."
"I have no idea what you just said! Maybe Pitbull is having some affect on my hearing,"
"Maybe we should go sit down, hm?" Hotch whispered into your ear, his breath fanning over your face. Nodding along to his words, grabbing ahold of his unsuspecting hand tugging them over to the back corner table you were sitting at. A soft sigh left your lips, as you reached for Hotch's glass of jack and coke tossing the rest of the drink back.
Spencer eyed your hand that was still holding onto Hotch's practically burning a hole into his much larger hand, a million thoughts coursing through his head. "Next one is on me, Aaron."
"Don't worry about it, sweet girl. Let me go buy another drink, I'll order you a water."
"What! I'm not even close to being done, please..." A pout found its way onto your face," Just one or two more."
Hotch couldn't say no to her face. "One more. Reid, want anything?"
"Can I just get a water, please?"
Hotch untangled your hand from his, his retreating figure hard to miss even with all the people surrounding him. Spencer took this chance to try to erase any progress Hotch had made, his figure seating itself right beside you. His shaking hand found its place on your thigh, a soft gasp leaving your lips eyeing the nervous boy standing before you. Your heart just about dropped into your stomach, a fluttering in your stomach as the guy you had been crushing on had made a move.
Please move it higher-
"I wish we could have had our dance, Spence... I'm sure you've got some more tricks up your sleeve I haven't seen."
"I don't think I would have been able to keep it professional if I got my hands on you,"
Fuck.
"What if I didn't want you too?"
You were playing with fire.
Knowing full well you had just basically had sex with your boss out on the dance floor, but your brain wanted them both.
And bad.
Spencers face heated up, his face leaning closer to yours feeling your chest tighten as he almost brushed his lips against yours his warm minty breath burning your eyes slightly. Holding your breath as you felt him pull back a confused look on your face, taking notice of a looming figure coming your way. The feeling of your blood rushing to your already burning face made you feel a little faint, fanning your face to try to cool off.
Morgan raised an eyebrow at the pair of you a knowing look on his face, clapping Spencers shoulder with a smirk on his lips. "My man. I never knew you had it in you,"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, okay. I didn't know it was a secret, sweet girl. Does this mean the nicknames are off limits now?"
You giggled at the reddening of Spencers face, nudging him playfully. "Not at all, baby. But, Spencer is right. We have no idea what you're talking about."
"What is Spencer right about again?"
"Oh, him and our sweets are-"
Spencer had read your mind, sending a swift kick towards Morgan who let out a yelp turning around and giving the brunette a harsh punch to the arm. Hotch felt his face tense at the words Morgan was insinuating, hoping Morgan was just playing a joke on him taking the seat closest to you leaving you sandwiched in between your two wet dreams once more.
"Don't tell me you're all out of dances, sweet girl. I still haven't gotten mine."
"Oh trust, I'm not. I was just waiting on a good song to come on-"
As if someone was listening in on your conversation, Club Can't Handle Me came on a fan favorite between you and Morgan. A loud laugh leaving both of your mouths as he made his way over to you dragging you over to the huge crowd that you had just escaped. Morgans hands expertly found their place on your hips, having danced with the famous flirt many times.
The way he grinned against your body had you almost a mess, allowing your legs to slip around his thigh dancing on him as if your life depended on it. By this point there was a layer of sweat on both of your bodies, making you look pornographic on the dance floor. His tight v-neck showed off his muscles well in the dim lighting of the bar, his arms practically engulfing you.
"You're too hot to be here by yourself,"
"Shut up, Morgan."
The pretty boy leaned into the cusp of your ear, his lips brushing up against you. "If looks could kill, your two lover boys would have killed me tenfold."
Peeking over his shoulder, noticing the evident glares of Hotch and Spencer who looked like they were 2 seconds away from walking over. "Want to help me make them make the first move?"
"You're an absolute minx, you know that?"
You knew Morgan was right, but the alcohol in you just wanted them to walk over and make you theirs. The music had changed to a slow sexier song, knowing if you were to do anything it would have to be now when the music would show everything off.
Closing your eyes allowing the music to guide you, putting every ounce of your being into grinding against Morgan. It didn’t take long of Morgan putting his hands closer to your ass before a cough interrupted the pair of you.
“Mind if I but in, Morgan?”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
a/n: guys this came to me in the middle of the night and i did NOT stop writing until 5 am. it just kept coming out. and FUCK, i am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure rn
a/n: GUYS WHAT THE HECK! i am literally writing part two right now, you guys have been so nice to me :,)
#criminal minds#imagine#female reader#reader x spencer reid#reader x hotch#spencer reid#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#i couldn’t stop myself#i’m crying#i stayed up past my bedtime for this#dance#borderline smut#screaming#who let me do this#penelope garcia#spencer reid imagine#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds x reader#x reader
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Chapter XVI
You Are the One
One time, Elain Marie Paige Archeron had everything she ever wanted. She had love. A love that was pure and clean and genuine. A love that did not ask for anything in return. The kind of love that was true, and kind, and forgiving, and protective. She couldn’t remember a time when she laughed as much as she did in the last three months. She recalled waking up every morning for the past three months and feeling lighter, like there was joy and a promise of good things. Now, in hindsight, she realised that it was because she was in love. But also because she was loved. No one’s ever loved her like that before. No one looked at her in the same way, like she was precious. Like she mattered. Like she was someone’s favourite thing in the world.
Only Elain Archeron did not hold on to that love.
She took it for granted.
She took the man who offered her his devotion and his loyalty and his unconditional, undeniable and passionate love for granted, never thinking that she’d ever lose him.
But she did.
She lost Azriel.
“Remember, darling, that’s nature…simple biology,”
“Daddy, you aren’t going to be talking about how babies are made?” Elain sniffled, half amused, half horrified.
Her father smiled a sad smile and shook his head no.
“You have to remember that it’s the sperm that chases the egg. It’s the man who pursues the woman. Not the other way around. A man will chase and will not give up until he gets that sperm into the egg.”
“Ew, dad!”
“You are a big girl, my pretty rose. You know what I mean.”
Elain considered his words, and as graphic as they were, they also made sense. He was correct.
“Love was invented to make nature more palatable,” he continued, “but biology never changed. It’s still about the sperm and the egg. Therefore, let him chase you. And if he doesn’t, then you’ll know the answer. But never chase a man, sweetheart. It’s his nature, his responsibility and his destiny to chase after a woman.”
She sighed and looked out the window.
It's been almost two weeks and Azriel hasn’t sought her out. The sperm hasn’t chased the egg. Azriel hasn’t chased her at all.
At first, it was just…silence.
For four days, it was silent.
Her texts went unanswered. There were no call backs. She even went old school and sent Azriel an email! And that didn’t get a response either.
She was ready to go all the way to Canary Wharf and be the weird girlfriend who busts into her boyfriend’s home and starts to demand answers.
But he finally messaged her with a one word text: ‘training’. That’s all it said. No apology and no explanation. Not an ‘I am sorry for ignoring you’ or ‘I’ve been swamped with the team stuff’. No, she didn’t get anything other than ‘training’.
And so, Elain had changed her mind about trekking to Canary Wharf and waited. Training would eventually be over and he would be back. He'd return to her. Elain wanted to be an understanding girlfriend, who was going to support her man. She realised that he needed to get back into the groove of the game after his injury and get his body back in playing shape. Therefore, when Saturday came about and Arsenal was playing Luton Town, she dutifully turned on the telly and listened to the pre-game broadcast while Piglet raced upstairs and then came back with his red jersey, tossing it to her and urging her to dress him in it. He already knew what he needed to wear when Azriel was playing, and even though he made a mess in his cubby, turning it out and tossing all the other things on the floor, Elain thought that it was too cute how he got so excited and was behaving like a proper little fan.
They watched the game, with Piglet sitting there, enraptured, and howling happily every time Azriel appeared on the screen. How Piglet recognised him, Elain didn’t know–she once hid under a blanket for 10 minutes, and her pug was wandering around in confusion, looking for her, never thinking to pull the blanket off. But here, he somehow was eagle-eyed and was spotting Azriel among the tiny players on the screen.
While Piglet was innocently happy to watch the game, hopping and rolling around, Elain’s mood was more subdued. She did take a photo of the pug and sent it to Azriel. When the game concluded, and Arsenal had won, she messaged him and said ‘Congratulations! Brilliant game’.
Thanks.
That’s what Eain got in response to her message from Azriel.
Thanks.
Angrily, she waited for more, but nothing else came.
Because if he’d responded, she’d confront him and give him a piece of her mind. What did she do to him?? She was a somewhat reluctant girlfriend, but she had the right to be reluctant. He moved like a freight train, but she was more cautious. Besides, she’s lived through many heartbreaks before and every single man that she’s been with has broken up with her. She never broke up with anyone–all the breakups were initiated by the men. And it looked like the pattern was continuing, unbroken. Azriel was also fed up with her and was breaking up.
That night, after the terse ‘thanks’ Elain closed her bedroom door, so Piglet wouldn’t hear her, and wept.
She wept for herself, for her lost love, for her stupidity.
She cried tears of anger, feeling rage sweep over her, cursing Azriel under her breath, calling him names. She was so angry. Angry at him for making her fall in love with him. Angry at him for making her feel. For having hope. Feelings and hope were things that she long ago placed in a place that she did not access and longed to forget. She hated Azriel Night for making her think that she could be loved, with a passion and devotion that Rhys offered her sister Feyre. She hated him for being even worse than Eris. At least Eris never offered her false hopes–he was what he was and she knew that going in. There would be no sweeping her off her feet by Eris. But Azriel…No, Azriel was gallant and strange. He courted her with ferocious intent and was not shy about showing her, and everyone around them, how much he wanted her. He loved her dog. He cooked for her. He cared for her. He cherished her. He joked, but he never pushed her into an uncomfortable place. She didn’t expect to find him and somehow, he landed on her doorstep. Literally. The old saying ‘it will happen when you least expect it’--well, it happened to her. She didn't expect him to sweep into her life and just overtake her whole existence. Because he did. And she hated him and herself, for allowing him so much power over her. She’d given him everything–her heart, first and foremost, but also access to her home, to her sanctuary and to her family. Even her father had accepted Azriel as an appropriate match for his beloved Elain. Elain was her father’s princess. She was the one he loved the most, and the one who gave him the most worry. He’d been lukewarm on Eris, despite Eris’s title and background. But Azriel–Azriel’d wormed his way into Sir Charles’s heart and Elain’s father came to like Azriel quite a bit.
But he never called.
At some point, while operating like a zombie day in and day out, Elain couldn’t stand it anymore and swallowed her pride and messaged Gwyn Berdara.
She was mentally exhausted, thinking nonstop about Azriel and why he was acting the way he was acting. Unable to bring herself to reach out to him yet again, and receive yet another awful, one word answer, she opted for contacting Gwyn. She had no feelings about Gwyn either way–she’d only met her twice in person, and Gwyn wasn’t memorable enough for Elain to develop a strong opinion about her. But Gwyn didn’t respond to her either. Elain had sent a nonchalant sort of message of: Good morning! How are you? Just checking in to see how things are going with Azriel Night? I didn’t want to bother him as he is training and playing right now, but I am curious about your progress with him?
The message remained unread.
-
However, Elain Archeron did not need to wait for long to get answers to her questions. They came a day later, courtesy of the Daily Mail.
Another Mystery Woman for the Rackish Lothario?
Azriel Night, Captain of Arsenal, never one wanting for female company, has been spotted at The Devonshire with a new companion.
It seems that only a few months had passed since he was photographed on the streets of London carrying another woman in his arms following an attempted robbery. He’d been previously seen with the beautiful partner, now identified as Lady Elain Archeron, on more than one occasion. Hello Magazine even published a holiday spread of the lovely Archeron sisters and their partners in their Christmas edition. London society is still buzzing over the surprise marriage of Lady Feyre Archeron and Lord Rhysand Darling back in December, and over the budding romance between Lady Nesta Archeron, the Duchess of Velaris and Mr. Cassian Night (Azriel Night’s brother).
By all accounts, the romance between the gorgeous aristocrat and Mr. Azriel Night was going splendidly and he’d been seen leaving her luxurious Russell Square townhouse, and even walking her pug, all through the month of December. However, it seems that their relationship is now on pause.
Mr. Night had been spotted dining at the upstairs restaurant at The Devonshire in the company of another woman. The yet to be named companion and Mr. Night enjoyed Sunday lunch at the Soho hotspot, dining on Roast Rib of Beef, all the trimmings and sticky toffee pudding.
After so many trials and errors, will this one be the one to capture Azriel Night’s heart forever?
He was at The Devonshire on Sunday–the Sunday when it was Elain’s turn to cook Sunday roast. When everyone had come to her house for lunch. And by everyone, she meant–everyone. Rhys. Feyre. Her father. Nesta. CASSIAN. Cassian Night, who introduced her and Azriel, was at her dinner table, eating roast chicken and buttery peas. But his brother, Elain’s boyfriend, was on a date with someone else.
A more awkward lunch couldn’t be imagined into existence, even by a talented writer.
Nesta was seething, smoke coming out of her ears. Cassian looked pained and uncomfortable. Rhys didn’t fare much better.
But it was Piglet who broke everyone’s hearts. He sat by the front door for three hours–waiting for Azriel to arrive. He didn’t move. He didn’t eat. He waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The whole family was here, and surely his dad would come as well. So he waited. He paced and then he lay on the floor, and he looked at the door, blinking his big brown buggy eyes.
Only Azriel never came.
-
It was a few days later, when Elain on on break between meetings and arranging dates that her phone lit up with a message. She looked at it and her face dropped.
Gwyneth Berdara
Hi Elain! Things are going well, thank you for asking. How are you?
Elain Archeron
I am well, thanks! Forgive me for bothering you,
Gwyneth Berdara
It’s no bother! I apologise for not responding sooner. I had a presentation to create and it took all my energy and time! 😀
Elain Archeron
I can only imagine. I was just wondering how things are with Mr. Night?
Gwyneth Berdara
We made the Daily Mail. Can you imagine? The one time we had lunch together. I can’t imagine spending all my life being hounded by journos
Elain Archeron
Oh, have you? I wasn’t aware that you were in the paper!
Gwyneth Berdara
😂 😂 I am suddenly a mini celebrity. Haha. I am only joking. But honestly? Don’t laugh, but we are mostly talking about football and working out. And hand to hand combat.
Elain Archeron
You are interested in hand to hand combat??
Gwyneth Berdara
I’ve been studying. Self-defence first, and then I got interested in other things. He is showing me some sicke moves!
Elain Archeron
? Okay. I guess thank you for getting back to me. Let me know how it progresses.
Gwyneth Berdara
Will do. Also I didn’t realise the two of you were so close. He talks about you a lot. I know you were his matchmaker too but it’s like you are his GF or something.
Elain Archeron
Well, no worries. I am not. Thanks. Bye.
Elain was even more confused and upset about things after that bizarre exchange. Also, who used the expression ‘sicke moves’?
Professor Gwyn was into hand-to-hand combat? And Azriel was teaching her ‘sicke’ moves? Elain knew that Azriel was a fighter and grew up rough, but…what?
There was no clarity around what was actually happening between Azriel and Gwyn after all that, and Elain only grew more and more anxious.
-
Another Sunday.
It was Nesta’s turn to cook and host, however, Sir Charles insisted that his daughters come to his house instead. And for that, Elain was grateful.
She was even more grateful to her sisters, who’d arrived without their men. She knew that they were lying when they said that both Rhys and Cassian were ‘busy’ on Sunday, but nevertheless, she was grateful to them. She didn’t think that she could handle another painfully awkward lunch with the handsome brothers who looked entirely too much like Azriel, and with her grieving pug.
She was seated on the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, her chin resting on her folded hands, as she looked out the window. It was raining. Rain. Rain. Rain. Endless fucking rain.
She barely bothered today–her appearance was sallow and unkempt. She tied her hair in a messy bun, wore a beige jumper and a pair of yoga trousers–attire which was entirely inappropriate for Sunday lunch and not something she’d ever dare leave the house in. But she just couldn't bring herself to care. When the butler opened the door, he stepped back, lack of recognition evident on his face, before he quickly gathered himself and said, “Lady Elain, good afternoon. Please come in.”
Her father, and neither of her sisters comment on her appearance and the maudlin way that she moved around the house, with Piglet trailing behind her, his nose to the ground. No one was surprised when she went to her father’s study and curled up on the sofa, like she did when she was little.
“He’s lost weight,” Sir Charles noted, as he stroked Piglet’s back, while the pug lay unmoving in his lap.
“Two kilos,” Elain said, looking out the window. Expensive cars rolled down the street, taxis and stray pedestrians huddled under their umbrellas. Late January was miserable. Even the warmth of the fire in the marble fireplace didn’t make a difference.
“That’s a lot for a pug,” her father commended. “Is he not eating?”
“He eats, but he doesn’t ask for snacks and mostly he just sits by the door,” Elain answered and wiped the tears that rolled down her cheeks.
“Elain,” he began saying, but she rose up swiftly and rubbed her eyes vigorously.
“I am okay, daddy,”
“No you aren’t,” he said sadly. “No you aren’t”.
She shrugged, like it didn’t matter. And maybe it didn’t. Nothing much mattered.
“Let’s go eat.”
Just then, a knock on the door informed them that lunch was indeed served.
At least life was predictable. Pleasantly predictable here, with her family. There were no treacherous men and no disloyalty.
Feyre and Nesta were already at the table, their expressions worried, even though they tried really hard to act normal.
“Hi Piggy, come here little boy,” Feyre tried to summon the pug, but Piglet didn’t even look at her and just went to his bowl, sniffing disinterestedly at the chicken and rice offering.
Once the wine was poured and the soup was served and the butler left the dining room, Nesta, who’s been clutching at her spoon like she was going to lunge at someone with it, snarled,
“I have to say something,”
“Don’t say anything,” Feyre warned. “Nesta. Don’t.”
“That utter arsehole,” Nesta ignored her youngest sister and clutched at her napkin until her knuckles were white.
Sir Charles winced, knowing that the lunch was about to descend into chaos.
“Girls,” he began with a sigh, but suddenly was interrupted by Elain.
Her voice was monotone and she spoke without inflection, staring straight ahead.
“If I die before Piglet,” she said calmly, while the rest of her family tensed and stared at her with apprehension, “show him my body.”
“Elain,” Feyre gasped. But Elain ignored her and continued,
“Bring him over to my deathbed. Allow him to smell me. He will understand death. He will understand that I was gone and that I would not be coming back. Allow him to mourn me. But do not attempt to spare him the sight of me and my death. He should know that he was not abandoned. He must know that I died, but that I did not leave him. He must understand that unlike others, I did not abandon him. Not like his first family and not like Azriel. He should not be waiting by the door for me to come back. Take him to the funeral and allow him to watch me be lowered into the ground so he understands the finality of it all. He must know that Elain loved him and did not leave him on his own. She was not like Azriel. She never lied to him.”
-
What Elain had missed the most was the casual intimacy.
As another week passed and January was coming to a close, Elain’s life returned to its natural, if boring routine.
She worked, taking on more clients–thank god for January and ‘resolutions’ and people wanting to couple up–and that took a lot of her time. She was grateful for the distraction, but the nights and the weekends were tough.
Most evenings, she cried herself to sleep, while remembering all the good things that she’d lived through with Azriel. He wasn’t dead, yet the fissure of emptiness inside her chest that was created by his absence really felt like he had died. There was something unsaid and unfinished about them, which bothered her like a toothache. It was a wound which she kept irritating every time she remembered something about him.
How he was so effortlessly sexual with her, and how his relaxed sensuality allowed her to feel free with her own sexuality for the first time in her life. To Azriel, she was beautiful. Always beautiful. Never awkward or chubby or clumsy or strange.
The way he would habitually slap her bum, every time he passed by her. Or pinch it. Or caress it. Or cup it in his large hand. At first it scandalised her. And then, she grew to love it. She grew to expect it.
The way he strutted around after a shower in only a towel wrapped around his hips, showing off his incredible body…goodness gracious! That was something to behold! The way she learned all the details of his form, no matter how insignificant–his tattoos, the shape of his shoulders, the thickness of his biceps, how his neck was a touch too long for his body, but how that made him appear more graceful. She knew exactly how many abdominal muscles he packed–more than six, and definitely eight, and she knew the shape of his long strong fingers. His hair curled slightly in the back of her neck. His hazel eyes had more green in them than brown, and were peppered with black specks. He had perfect toes. The V of his hips could only be called vicious, because it was so sharp and pointed right at his…The one thing Elain never got to see. She never saw his member. Felt it, knew that it was worryingly large and thick, but she never saw it.
She supposed that she always thought that they’d have more time.
She recalled how one time, they were in a restaurant. It was moderately busy and they were seated by the window. It so happened that there was no one at the table in front of them, or by their side. So what did he do? He parted her shirt on her chest, and when she thought that he’d just cop a feel–something he did often and without hesitation–he bared her breast completely and tugged on her nipple, while kissing her lips. She sat there, completely delirious with love and arousal, while he pinched and rolled her nipple in his fingers, while squeezing her bare tit in his palm. Just as the waiter approached, he tucked her back in and acted like nothing happened.
She missed him.
Sometimes, she screamed into her pillow, a long, tortured scream because she…well, she missed him. There was nothing that could replace him in her life.
She loved him. Loved him when they were together, and loved him now–perhaps even more than before.
-
He rang her.
Once.
It was a day like any other. A blustery wintry afternoon, only 5 pm and already pitch black outside. Though slowly, but surely the days were getting a bit longer. Just a little. It was early February and Elain just changed into her comfy joggers and a sweatshirt having just come back from walking Piglet. He hated being outside, especially when it was cold and drizzling, and thankfully, it was a quick walk and he did his business in record time.
For some reason, it didn’t register with Elain that it was Azriel’s name on the Caller ID.
She’d become so used to his calls and messages that it seemed normal that he’d be ringing her.
“Hello,” she said.
He seemed surprised when he said, “Hi Elain”.
Everything stopped.
The moment she heard that voice, that achingly familiar, smooth, deep voice she felt her hands shake, and her heart beat wildly in her chest.
She threw her phone on the counter as if it burned her and then, with her finger trembling, pressed the ‘speaker’ button.
“Why are you calling me?” she demanded, her voice barely a whisper.
He didn’t answer right away.
“Why?” she asked again, and to her horror her voice was already hoarse and weak, and she sounded strangled. Because there were tears in her eyes and she was hyperventilating.
“How are you?” he asked softly instead.
How was she?
How dare he?
How was she?
She howled like an animal in her sorrow over losing him.
She cried.
She screamed.
She wondered what she'd done and why he just left her without an explanation?
She didn’t eat.
She didn’t sleep or she slept too much.
“Fine. Brilliant. All good,” she laughed a dry, angry laugh. “I am sure you are doing well too, right? How’s Gwyn?”
He sighed, like the sound of her voice pained him.
“I didn’t like the way things ended between us,” he told her somberly, ignoring her question.
“Well, it was your choice, wasn’t it?” she reminded him.
“I suppose?”
It sounded like he wasn't sure.
“What do you want, Azriel?” she demanded.
“How’s Pink?” he asked instead.
“What do you want to hear exactly?”
Did he want to hear about Piglet crying by the door?
Did he want to hear about Piglet avoiding any football on TV and barking violently for her to change the channel if he saw anyone running on a green field?
Did he want to hear about Piglet sitting and waiting for him for hours, day after day, hoping that his dad would show up?
“You abandoned him,” she accused him savagely. “I told you not to make him fall in love with you. I told you not to allow him to get attached to you. I explicitly told you that this would happen if he thought of you as his own.”
“I am sorry,” he whispered brokenly.
“You did it all. You hurt us, Azriel. What do you expect to happen now?” she questioned him, feeling her voice becoming hysterical. “Two brothers and two sisters together at Christmas. A third sister alone. A third brother who used to date the third sister is now with some random woman. Is this your vision? For all of us to play happy families? Like nothing’s happened. Like we didn’t exist. Like what we had didn’t matter??”
“He did matter,” he argued. “It does.”
She ignored him.
“Cassian and Nesta are dating now. Feyre and Rhys are married. Instead of leaving me alone–like I requested, over and over again–you made me fall for you. Fall in love with you. And then you tossed me aside.”
“You love me?” he breathed a shocked gasp.
“What?”
“You said you fell in love with me,”
“You are unbelievable,” she cried out. He was always deranged, but now he was even more incomprehensible. What was wrong with him?
“My dog is screaming any time he sees Arsenal signage. My heart is shuttered. Is that what you wanted?” Elain broke down in tears. “Is that what you wanted?
“I never wanted that,” he argued quietly. “I never,”
“What did you think would happen?” she insisted, sobbing. “That I can just walk away?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice devastated. “It all spiralled out of control…I didn’t want any of this.”
She wasn’t listening to him.
She cried.
Cried for her lost love. Cried for the children she’d never have with him. Cried for the future they’d never have. Cried for not knowing what his perfect day consisted of. Cried for the Christmases they’d never celebrate together again. Cried for his touch and for his kisses and for him next to her in bed. Cried for the games she’d never cheer at. Cried for knowing that she’d never see him snuggling together with Piglet.
She cried and Azriel listened.
She didn’t know how long it lasted–felt like an hour–and he didn’t say anything. He didn’t comfort her, but he didn’t ask her to stop either.
At some point, Piglet came over. He looked up at her, watching her weep, and whimpered sadly, before curling himself at her feet.
“I am sorry, Elain,” Azriel whispered at last.
She quieted down, before telling him,
“I wanted to be your wife, you know. I wanted to build a family with you. I wanted to have your children.”
“I understand. And I am sorry.”
“I wish you happiness, Azriel. Even if you robbed me of mine.”
#elriel#elain archeron#azriel#azriel and elain#pro elriel#elain#elain x azriel#my fanfiction#A Match Baked In Heaven#my writing#Elriel fanfic#elain and azriel#azriel x elain#new chapter#acotar fanfiction#modern au
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has anyone done this yet
#they could also be shaking hands#over the fact that I will be going absolutely fucking FERAL#when these adaptations come out#this makes sense right#I promise this made so much sense in my head#percy jackson#percy jackson series#disney#disney +#leah sava jefferies#annabeth chase#rick riordan#pjo#soman chainani#the school for good and evil#sge#sge movie#netflix#agatha#agatha of woods beyond#sofia wylie
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Rin, identity issues, and the complications of being an isolated, alienated teenager
It feels sort of weird to say but I generally don’t head canon characters as having particular sexualities. Whatever people go for in fics is usually fine with me - gay, lesbian, bi, pan, something more general like queer. As long as it makes sense for the story they’ve built and the character they’ve shaped to fit it, I’m good. Unless you’re ignoring a canon LGBTQ+ sexuality, in which case, yeah, I’ll take issue with that.
But anyway. Rin.
I’ve got my personal ship for him (BonRin my beloved), but regardless of the pairing I see him as bisexual. He’s so open with his infatuation with Shiemi, and okay, sure, fandom likes to ignore the love interest in shounen for the most part because we’ve got gay ships to peddle. But I don’t see the point in that unless it really reads like it’s a front, or a result of a character suppressing themselves for one reason or another. And with Rin, I think it’s pretty clear his affection for Shiemi is sincere. You technically have the in-universe evidence of the demon that brought out his true desires to back that up, but even without it, Rin likes her. It’s complicated because of Yukio and Shiemi’s own inexperience with romance, and yet I never once doubt he really likes her.
That being said… he’s very appreciative of the guys in his life, too. (Peddling my gay ship here) Bon in particular, considering he’s often admiring how cool he thinks Bon is, that his haircut suits him whether it’s the blonde rooster look or the undercut. If you don’t want to see it as romantic interest, that’s your prerogative, but to me Rin comes across as seeing cool and cute as different traits he finds attractive (in Bon and Shiemi respectively).
I also think his bisexuality would fit neatly into his narrative struggles to “pass” throughout the early parts of the series. Rin has grown up as the neighborhood problem child, ostracized for being violent, and eventually he decides he’s fine with just his brother and his father — and the rest of the monastery, presumably — for company. (Except that’s absolutely not true and clearly he’s starved for friendship and support.) People looked at him and saw a monster, even before his demonic heritage made an appearance; why would he bother giving them even more ammunition when it comes to reasons to hate him? So no matter when he figured out his attraction to guys, he’s not going to lean into it, because he also likes girls, right? (Ignoring for a moment that bisexuality is a lot more nuanced than that.)
Rin likes girls, Rin is human — that’s what’s going to get people to like him, or at the very least tolerate him. That he likes guys, that he’s half demon, he can shove that shit down and pretend it doesn’t exist. Lock up any stray thoughts and keep the sword sheathed around anyone who doesn’t already know.
(Excuse me for being amused by Rin wielding his humanity and supposed heterosexuality as a sword and shield.)
The problem, of course, is that he can’t keep up the facade forever. The narrative won’t let him. Rin has to embrace his demonic side, because it’s the only way to move forward and to continue to help his loved ones. And once he’s moved past the issue of his friends being upset over the deception, when they understand he’s still Rin despite what he’d hidden from them, Rin is finally allowed to be himself. He uses his flames, he lets his tail move freely in the open around the Cram School kids. Rin still doesn’t like this side of himself — it’s inextricably tied to every moment of pain and isolation he’s dealt with his entire life, including the death of Father Fujimoto (and, y’know, his mom). But he is moving forward, he’s trying to adapt.
And isn’t that some great fucking subtext for his bisexuality, too?
#king’s court#blue exorcist#ao no exorcist#okumura rin#rin okumura#bonrin#because I love them#anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk#I probably made more sense in my head than I did writing everything out#but oh well#there’s a similar conversation to be had about yukio and his suppression/obsession that develops#but I am not qualified for that one#also I promised myself when I made this blog that I’d try to be engaged with the fandoms I got into#because the one I’d sunk a lot of time and effort into on my main no long brings me much joy and I miss interacting with people#so. uh. here I am I guess#god this is probably less compelling than my season 2 analysis of bnha seven years after it aired
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Was on the fence abt adding “it was an arranged marriage” to the bg of my ex fiancé jing yuan series that none of you will see for another two months when I finally manage to finish this svarog fic and then mao mentions arranged marriage w him and now I simply have to do it
#JENFKNE if I can throw it in somewhere I will tbh but it adds a rlly interesting layer to things#in this story specifically#like. ur his. u were promised to him. even if ur running loose rn he’s the one who put the slack on the leash#(that’s how you see it anyway. meanwhile he’s just suffering bc he wants you back)#it’s interesting!!! and I think also adds to how much the relationship messed w the reader#bc I’m sure it’d be far harder to break an arranged betrothal#so there’s an added desperation there to go through the societal & familial pushback#AND the family dynamics (w her family being very pushy abt taking him back & her little sibling being the only one who supports her)#make slightly more sense#thinking thinking#also it’d be a diff plot from how I usually do it bc usually I do a ‘mutual pining bc they both think they’re overstepping’ kinda thing#but I don’t think Jing Yuan would care abt that LMFAOOOOO and they’re like. childhood sweethearts in my head#maybe the arrangement was made when they were rlly young and he’s always been head-over-heels and greedy abt it#or maybe it was made when they were older and he had a thing for her beforehand…….. idk! I’ll think on it
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The Big Part
Alastor x Virgin FemReader smut
You were dead, it was time to divest yourself of your virginity. When you ask Alastor, he takes to the task immediately. Unfortunately, he seems to enjoy surprising you.
warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader smut, Alastor dislikes getting naked, virginity does not rock, possessive Alastor, head pats, reader is an adult she’s just a nervous idiot bad at words
Horny little deer cult: @frompeach , @chirimeimei , @poppingaround , @polytheatrix , @itsmskeisha , @stygianoir , @celestial-vomit , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @amurtan
minors dni, this isn’t educational in the slightest and is just straight smut
It made sense, at the time. You didn’t want a relationship and you didn’t want to meet a stranger you couldn’t trust, that left very few people to ask. Husk would say no, and probably stop serving you drinks. Angel would most likely agree, but you were a little intimidated by his experience. That left Alastor. While you hadn’t spent much time together, your interactions were always cordial. And plus, this was hell. Isn’t this kind of situation a sinners dream come true?
For most, maybe. But you didn’t know Alastor. Not yet, not really. Everything he did had some ulterior motive. Perhaps nothing he had ever done was simply selfless. If Alastor wasn’t gaining something, Alastor wasn’t interested.
You caught him in the hallway one evening after redemption-oriented activities, deciding to get the moment over with as quickly as possible.
“It’s a favor, little… odd. But you’re the only person I have to ask.” Your eyes darted around his face, down the hall, up the walls, anywhere really but his eyes.
“I’m all ears!” Alastor tapped the microphone to the ground with a satisfying ‘thud’.
Oh— you had rehearsed this but you hadn’t prepared to be staring at that large, toothy grin. It wasn’t unsettling, it was just distracting. Would he be smiling the entire time he… ya know.
“I am,” you steepled your hands, pointing them at him, “a virgin.” You paused, hoping maybe he’d just infer the rest and you could stop talking.
His face was motionless save his eyelids rising up.
“And I don’t want to be. Anymore.” Your lips pursed together. C’mon, Alastor. Figure it out.
Alastor nodded.
You dragged your fingers down your face, “Would you help me with that?”
His head cocked to the side like a golden retriever being handed a book on ancient Egypt. Very nice offer but what exactly do I do with it?
“Help how, precisely?” He finally spoke, tone unchanged from any normal topic of discussion. Alastor watched your face scrunch up, mouth moving around words you abandoned half way through. You weren’t saying anything, just making panicked sounds. “I find annunciation most helpful when wanting to be understood, dear.”
You wanted to somersault out the nearest window. “Alastor will you take my virginity?”
“Take it where?”
You groaned, he laughed, “Just kidding, my dear! All in good fun. So, to be clear, you would like your first sexual experience to be with me?” He pointed the microphone from you to him.
You nodded, “Yes, please.”
His smile seemed to strain. Staring down at you, he tried to understand what your motivation was for this. But as he looked into your big, concerningly innocent eyes, he realized there was none. You really, simply, want him to be the first.
Ooh, as he thought it, he felt his pulse quicken in his lap. The first. A spot no one else could take. For the rest of your afterlife, he would always be the one who was first in you. A delicious thought. He could work with that.
“Are you free now?” He leaned down to your level.
“Oh. I wasn’t-,”
“Expecting immediacy? Perfect, the element of surprise has never failed me before.” His hand wrapped around your waist and drew you in to his chest, there was a rush of cold air over your skin before you felt yourself falling back.
It was soft, the room was dark, save for a small floor lamp in the corner. Your room, you realized.
“I didn’t know you knew my room number.”
“It’s my job to know everything about the hotel.” He said, tossing your shoes behind him. Was this happening now? Right now?
“I can do it, it’s, it’s fine.” You sat up and began undoing your pants. Alastor just standing there, watching. Smiling. Fuck, was it going to be this awkward the entire time? Should you say something? Touch him? You were lifting the hem of your shirt when you realized he was still fully dressed. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”
“Why would I do that?” Head lolled to the side.
You stopped mid-way through unhooking your bra, “Alastor you do know I was asking you to fuck me, right?”
He nodded.
Maybe this was a mistake.
After taking off your bra, and finally your panties, you crawled to the top of your bed and drew your knees to your chest. Your feet hid your sex from view. Heart racing, but it wasn’t excitement, as you had anticipated. It was nerves. Would it hurt? Would you make a stupid face? What if he didn’t like the sounds you made? What if you regretted it after?
Alastor got on the bed on his knees, undoing his belt buckle but not his pants. The way he looked at you, your heart skipped a beat. You suddenly remembered he was called the ‘cannibal deer’ as you saw something akin to hunger in his eyes.
“What experience do you have?” His voice was suddenly low, deeper than before. This wasn’t the pun loving radio man you saw prodding the staff.
“I dated. Before. Kissing, um, I don’t know the bases. Groping?” You grimaced, it sounded so formal.
“Have you ever,” he began to slink toward you on his hands and knees, red eyes glowing in the dim light of your room, “been entered?”
Your cheeks burned, your head suddenly swayed as if it was half full of water and someone tipped you over. “Just myself, my,” you lifted your hand.
“Show me.”
All the air left the room, sucked out of your lungs and into his grin.
Uncrossing your feet, you tried to open your thighs without seperating your knees. It didn’t work, but you still managed to get a hand between your legs and to your entrance. You could have cried, you were soaking wet to an embarrassing degree. Your eyes return to Alastor, his gaze never leaving you. Even as you slipped a finger, then two, into yourself. You thought for sure he would want to watch your hands playing with your wet pussy but no, his eyes stayed on your face. Somehow, that was worse.
A shaky sigh escaped, your eyes closing as you tried to focus on relaxing around your digits.
Your head smacked against the headboard when you felt a third finger enter. Not yours. Your eyes flew back open to see him now directly in front of you.
“Two won’t do, dear.” He spun his finger around, pulling slightly at the thin skin of your entrance. “Unless you’d prefer this to hurt?”
You shook your head no, still stinging from the impact you had made. “May I?” His hand took your wrist and removing your fingers. Swiping your wetness from your ass to your clit, he coated his claw-like digits and pushed three back in. They were longer than yours, sharper. You could feel he moved gently, in and out. Your head was heavy, breath short and fast.
He laughed, bringing your consciousness fully back into the room, “Already wanting to change your mind?”
You shook your head side to side, still too embarrassed to speak, and took a grounding breath to help your body accept his fingers. He took his time, sliding in and out of you. His fingers picking up the slick and letting it lubricate your lips. It was so slow, the only pleasure for you was knowing it wasn’t your hand doing it.
But then his stretching of your hole stopped, and he grabbed both of your knees from underneath and pulled you down toward him. Now on your back, legs up and in his hands, you heard his belt slide through the loopholes, his zipper drop. You wanted to look, but you also absolutely did not want to look.
Your knees came together when you felt something hot and round at your entrance. “Ah-ah,” He opened them immediately. He reached for one of your hands, and brought it down to his cock. It was so hard under your fingers, but gave a little when you squeezed. It made him hiss.
“You tell me when to stop, little doe.” He pressed into your opening, pulled back. Pressed in, just barely making it past your lips, pulled back. He kept this pressing and pulling, head making slightly more leeway every time. Your fingers were holding right behind the tip.
“How about this, dear. I’ll just get the head in for now. Manageable!”
“Just— just get the big part in first?” You asked, the pressure at your entrance building with every shallow thrust.
He laughed, nodding as he held both of your knees further apart. When he attempted to get past the curve of his cock’s head, your hands flew down to press against his thigh, pushing back with the intrusion. Alastor stilled, sighed, and pressed his head fully in with a determined thrust. Instinctively, your feet came to his chest and tried to push away from him. It felt like you were being torn down the middle, your body forced apart at your most sensitive junction. He held you still now by the ankles, legs splayed in the air.
It burned where your walls were pushed aside. Stinging where the skin tore slightly just beneath your hole, unable to stretch.
“Breath, sweetheart.” He set your ankles down. “Does it hurt?”
You nodded.
“I’ll stay here for a bit,” he settled on his legs, looking down at where he was connected to you. Your pink little pussy looking positively overwhelmed by his cock. No one has ever been here before, and he could feel it. Your walls were pressing so hard against him his shaft was slightly curved from the force pushing his head out. You still had so much to take, there was so much more of you for him to explore. You tried to calm your breathing but your heart was racking against your sternum.
Hand reaching down again, you let your fingers count little paces from his core to yours. You knew the hardest part was over, but that didn’t bring much comfort as you felt how far you still had to go.
Alastor let his eyes wander away from your not-so-virgin cunt to your face. Your expression was twisted, not pained but clearly uncomfortable.
“How does it feel?” He asked, gesturing to your lap with a nod of his head.
“Full, so full.”
His cackle disheartened you, “Darling I am no where done filling you up.”
You clenched when he said it, earning a small groan from him. You were already too tight, when you spasmed on him it was nearly painful. There was more to do yet, more of you to claim as his. Just the tip of his cock was simply not enough.
His hips started moving again, the folds of his head pulling at the skin of your entrance but not actually crossing the barrier. He was gently rocking, barely making friction between you two. Your hand clawed at his knee, breath hitching. You let an airy moan slip, his head no longer an intrusion but something hot and melty barely rubbing your walls. It started to feel almost good.
Alastor’s cock was throbbing, his shaft touch-starved and desperate for the heat of your cunt. Your face was relaxing now, eyes blinking around new sensations. He wanted to see you experience more, more firsts and frighteningly foreign pleasures. He wanted to see you scared of how good he could make you feel. Alastor wanted you to never feel whole again without him buried balls deep in you.
“Can you take more?” His voice was like gravel, a radio static crackling in.
You met his eyes, glowing still in the dim light, wide and nearly frenzied in their dilation. His smile was practically beaming down at you.
“I don’t know.” You were scared to move forward, even though you wanted more.
“I don’t like liars.” A pop of electricity arcing at the end of his words. You pulled a pillow over your face, trying to hide from the reaction you knew he’d have as his voice made you tighten around him. “Your body says otherwise,” he hissed.
You wanted to say ‘yes’, if this could feel good then how great would all of him feel? But you were scared to vocalize it. Scared to make it start. Alastor lifted the pillow, “I need to see you, dear.” He set it beside his leg, “Do you remember what I said earlier?”
Brow furrowed, you shook your head. His grin widened to his ears as his hands slid down your thighs to your hips and he sank his cock to the hilt.
The element of surprise definitely made the nerves of saying ‘yes’ dissipate, but you were now choking on your breath, hands gripping at the blankets beneath you. Was this normal? Was he too far inside you? You felt nauseous, your guts prodded by Alastor’s member.
“How does it feel now?” He watched your eyes scanning the ceiling for an answer. You felt sure there was no way his head could leave you ever again. It was so snuggly fit in you, you feared you’d be pulled inside out. “Words, dear.”
You sat up on your elbows, sweating from the nerves of it all. “Like there’s a big stick stuck in me.”
“Accurate!” He laughed, and began pulling out. You whined, head dropping back. Almost taking himself out completely, he paused before thrusting back in. The head of his cock dragged against your walls, you could feel him with such detail. Every inch of him leaving impressions behind. Alastor could feel it too, how your soft warmth moved out of his way with every push. How pliable your womb was to his intrusions.
More. You could take more, he was positive of it.
Slowly, your moans began to get louder as the pressure faded into pleasure. Every time he bottomed out, you jumped. Every time he pulled out, you wanted to chase after him with your hips.
Watching your face soften, eyes now watery, Alastor was sure you were relaxed enough. He grabbed the pillow beside him, lifting your ass and sliding it under the small of your back. You didn’t ask, just waited to see what the point was. Dissatisfied, he grabbed another and added it under you.
Your hips were up, ass hanging over the ledge the pillows made, back bent upward. When he began to thrust again, you whinced feeling a new part of you widen for him. “Can you see me?” You looked at him when he said it, but he grabbed your hand and placed it beneath your belly button. When he pushed back in, you could feel his cock beneath your hand. Moving it, you watched your stomach bulge slightly when he was completely sheathed in you.
“Oh fuck-,” your head fell back into the bed, it was too much to feel let alone to watch, “Too deep.”
He hummed an acknowledgement, picking up his pace. “Let me see how you cum.”
Your face was hot, reluctantly bringing your hand to your clit and rubbing.
No, this wasn’t a mistake at all. If anything you regretted not asking sooner.
His thrusts now brought lightning to your core, your finger quickening in speed with the realization of just how good he could feel.
Studying your face still, he adjusted his angle until he saw the muscles in your neck tighten. He knew he found your g-spot, your moans dipping into cries.
“I can’t—,” You couldn’t get over the hump, knowing he was watching you, waiting for you.
“You can”, the lights flickered, his eyes now black with small red pupils illuminating your naked body, “and you will, my dear.” One of his hands stopped pressing finger sized bruises into your hips to instead push your own finger aside. The wide pad of his thumb took over and began thrumming you fast and hard.
That familiar build up of pleasure was stronger than you’d ever felt it, and when it finally snapped your muscles from your thighs to your toes cramped. How long had you been tensing?
You practically sobbed into the crook of your arm, Alastor’s hips slowing but still carrying you through your orgasm. They moved slower and slower, until stopping entirely. His head popped out of you, leaving you feeling hollow. Cold.
Eyes wet and blurry, you looked up at him, “Aren’t you going to finish?”
“If we do everything now, what ‘first’ will we have for tomorrow night? And the night after that?” He smiled, member already hidden away and pants buttoned. Your thighs twitched. “Same time tomorrow, little doe?”
You covered your face with both hands, and nodded.
His big hand came to your head and patted you gently, “Good girl.”
I hope you liked it 🥺 I don’t feel as confident about this one. Fun fact, my first time involved bondage. Very on brand, huh? 💖
༻Masterlist༺
Gonna start calling his dick ‘the element of surprise’. You look tired today! What happened? Oh the element of surprise kept me up all night.
#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor smut#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor x you#hazbinhotel#hazbin#x you smut#fanfiction#smut#smut writing#smut fanfiction#x you#x reader#reader fic#reader#reader insert#the radio demon#radio demon#alastor the radio demon
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ACQUAINTANCES!
Synopsis: Jungkook and you can only stand each other whenever you guys are fucking, well that’s what you guys thought initially.
Parings: fuckboy!jungkook x fuckgirl!reader
Genre: college au! fwb! e2l!
Warnings: smut!! Open ending, no confession. Rough sex, unprotected sex (pls wrap it) Smut with just a tiny bit of plot if you squint, reader is a squirter (sorry not sorry) daddy/mommy kink, cussing, blowjob, reader crying from pleasure, jk is a dirty talker, banter, a lot of bickering from both of them, cute fluff at the end for Valentine’s Day!
a/n: hai my loves, i disappeared for a while.. I’ve been really busy with school at the moment. But I wrote this short pwp for all of you as a valentines gift before I lag again.. I’m trying to write an actual f1 driver!jk fic right now so sorry if I’m not updating as much…. But anywho enjoy my little gift<3⭐️
“That’s my good girl, fuck." He plunges deeper into you, hitting your spot repeatedly. His hand lays on your head, pushing you down into the mattress, your makeup smudged from sucking his cock, and tears stream down your face.
“Right there, baby, that’s it.” Jungkook pounds into you from behind; your legs are shaking, trying so hard not to give out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his cock spreads your walls deliciously. “Agh fuck.” You moan loudly, your mouth hanging open, drool spilling out onto the white sheets.
You reach behind you, pushing him off you. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he watches your legs shake. Your breaths are heavy, and you are trying so hard to catch your breath. “Take it off.” You whine about the condom; you reach for Jungkook's cock and pull on the clear condom, taking it off.
“Want me to fuck you, raw princess?” Jungkook groans, grabbing the base of his cock, giving your pussy a few slaps with his length, making you clench over nothing. Jungkook uses one of his arms to pick you up and turn you around, your back pressed against the comfortable mattress. “Feels good, huh?” He asks as he slowly rubs your swollen, aching clit with his thumb. Jungkook watches your expression, your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes cloudy, trying so hard to keep them open, his hand reaching to your tear-stained cheeks, squeezing them, making your mouth form a kiss.
“What do you say?” Jungkook asks as you slowly nod your head. You were fucked dumb, and he knew that, which made him chuckle softly. He could tell from how you couldn’t even answer the question or even fight him for it like you usually do.
“Speak up; use your words, baby.” Jungkook smirks, giving your cheeks a light slap before squeezing them again. “Feels so good.” You slur, and you squeeze your legs together to relieve some of the tension your center is feeling. You have come four times now, and Jungkook none.
“Good girl.” Jungkook says before helping you sit up as he leans against the header, his hard laying on his stomach. Jungkook is packed, to say the least; even when he’s soft, you can see his imprint in his underwear.
It scared you at first when he pulled it out because, how the fuck was that going to fit in you? You swear you almost got up and left.
“That’s not going to fit.” You say, your pointer finger pointing at his thick length in his hand. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jungkook chuckles, and you give him a glare back instead, showing that you are serious. “It’s going to fit; we’ll make it fit, baby.” He grins. "Plus, you can take four fingers; you’ll be fine.” He comes closer to you and says, "It’ll feel so good, I promise.” He whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your back.
You crawl your way to him, stopping between his legs; his eyes bore into yours. “You’re so pretty.” He compliments you, swiping his thumb on your bottom lip. “Fuck off, you just want your dick sucked.” You roll your eyes, grabbing the base of his cock. Your small hand, not even being able to wrap around his cock, always sent Jungkook a sense of pride to his chest.
“Gon’ suck daddy’s cock?” Jungkook moves your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “If you call yourself daddy one more time, I will bite your dick; don’t try me.” You glare up at him. "Well, isn’t she back? Not even five minutes ago, you were calling me daddy.” Jungkook chuckles at your expression. You looked hot with his cock inches away from your face, slightly twitching, waiting to be sucked.
You and Jungkook had history; to say the least, you both kind of hated each other. If it wasn’t because he said something you didn’t like, it was because he breathed a little too loudly around you.
Just something about his smug face looking at you and throwing snarky comments had you wanting to claw your acrylics into his skin. Which was something Jungkook loved; he loved watching you roll your eyes every time you saw him, and he absolutely loved it when you fought back with him.
You had no clue how you ended up throwing insults at him every five seconds whenever he would show up anywhere; you would say it was because he was a man whore. You heard from every girl on campus how good he fucked but left right after coming, or if they were lucky, he left before they woke up. But honestly, that really doesn’t matter now that you’re in his bed getting your guts rearranged almost every seven days of the week by him.
Jungkook doesn't hate you; he just loves challenging you. Plus, he thought the only way he could find himself talking and being closer to you meant arguing; he would take it. You are well known on campus as well; his friends warned him about you, but you were just his type. So who was he to throw out the possibility of having you in his bed?
You didn’t even know how you ended up becoming friends with benefits—something along the lines of a frat party, an angry make-out session, and sex in someone’s bed. Jungkook fucked you so good; you are hundred percent sure you passed out and saw stars.
What were strictly professional meetings? how you like to call them? Turned into sleepovers, hanging out, cuddling, and calling each other cute nicknames. You guys still fought; it was more like bickering now. What you both weren’t looking for was a catching feeling; it started as having sex whenever one of you was horny, but now you find yourself wanting to be with each other regardless if you guys’ had sex or not.
“Now I don’t want to suck your dick after you called yourself daddy; that’s such an ick.” You scrunch your nose, giving his cock a tug, making him bite his lip with a laugh.
“That’s an ick? Ick when you told me to call you mommy like a month ago.” Jungkook recalls making your eyes widen. “Stop, I was drunk.” You whine, rolling your eyes. “We both said we wouldn’t bring it up, plus I said it as in sugar mommy.” You try to explain yourself as Jungkook smiles down at you.
“Sugar mommy? I pay for everything, so just shut up." Jungkook chuckles, grabbing ahold of his cock, giving it a pump.
You only follow his movements with your eyes as your pussy oozes with your juices, your wetness dripping down your thighs. Jungkook presses his cock to your cheek before slapping it multiple times. “My favorite view—imagine this, but on my lock screen." Jungkook jokes, which makes you glare at him. “In your dreams.” You say.
“It’s definitely in my dreams,” he groans. Jungkook moves his dick to your lips before patting his length on them. “Open.” He orders, which you immediately do, taking his tip into your mouth.
"Agh,” he chokes in a moan as you suck on the swollen tip. You replace his hands with yours pumping in his shaft while you try to take as much as you can down your throat. “Fuck.” Jungkook throws his head back, and you bob your head up and down his cock.
“So big.” You breathe out before returning to bob your head at a fast pace. Drool accumulates in your cheeks, dripping down Jungkook's cock. “Don’t boost my ego more, baby.” Jungkook howls; his tattooed hand gets a hold of your head before pushing it down. You gag on his cock, but Jungkook doesn’t care as he continues to fuck into your mouth. “Aw shit, shit shit.” Jungkook moans with each thrust into your warm mouth.
Tears run down your cheeks as Jungkook uses your mouth. Your hands rest on his hip bones, tapping slightly whenever you need to breathe. “Right there, baby, that’s it.” Jungkook mumbles, his cock twitching in your mouth, meaning he’s close. Before he could come, he pulled your head off of him with a loud pop. Strings of saliva and pre-cum connect your mouth and his cock.
“Fuck!” Jungkook pumps his cock hurriedly, his eyes shut as strings of curse words leave his mouth. “Where do I come? Shit.” Jungkook moans, his abs flexing as his hips lift up with each thrust into his hand. “Tits.” You wipe your mouth, positioning yourself in front of him before he shoots strings of his sticky cum on your round boobs. “Ahh fuck.” Jungkook chokes on another moan, giving his cock one last pump.
His chest heaves as he tries so hard to catch his breath, peeking an eye open and seeing you on your knees with your tits adorned with his cum. You giggle at his state. “I think you just boosted my ego by putting ‘expert at giving head' in my resume.” You joke as his chest rumbles with laughter.
“The head game is strong. Who taught you that?” Jungkook asks, and an inch of jealousy pikes his chest as he thinks about you ever giving a blowjob to someone else that wasn’t him. “Myself, you can do so much with a dildo.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, running your hands down his chest. His cock twitches as he watches you lay back down on the bed, your legs spread open as an invitation.
“Have I told you how good of an idea it was to get this mattress? Yeah, this one is a lot nicer,” Jungkook says as he starts to hover over your much smaller frame. “Whenever we fuck, it doesn’t leave me with back pain,” he moans when he easily slides his cock in you from how wet you are, a sharp moan that leaves your throat.
“It's al- also comfy.” You moan between deep breaths as his cock hits your g-spot. “Yeah, yeah, whatever it’s comfortable to sleep on,” he chuckles as his eyes flutter shut when you clench around him, sending him deeper into you.
“Shit! tightest pussy ever.” His grip tightens on your thighs, which are pushed up by him. “Do you see how pretty your pussy looks being filled with my cock?” He motions to his length, buried deep inside you. The noticeable bulge on your tummy has him wanting to ram inside you without restraint.
He watches as you just hum with your eyes closed, “I said look.” Jungkook's hand gets a hold of your hair, pulling you upward, making you see his cock in you.
“I’m going to get a cramp because of you.” You moan as you watch his cock slowly slide out, making the bulge disappear before reappearing again when he slammed back, making your eyes shut with a scream. “You’ll be fine,” he laughs before slamming into you. The grip on your hair doesn’t loosen as your eyes vision is just his cock sliding in and out of your pussy over and over again.
“Open your eyes; come on, baby.” He gives your hair a little tug, making your eyes shoot open with your mouth wide open. “Fuck! Prettiest view, huh?” Jungkook's hips slam into you repeatedly.
“Ah, cramp,” you moan as he lets go of your hair, making you drop onto the mattress with a shake. His movements didn’t halt as he continued to fuck into you.
Jungkook holds onto your legs before powering into you. Your hands grip onto the sheets as the moans flow out of your mouth uncontrollably. Jungkook spreads your legs open before pressing his palm on your lower belly on his bulge, sending a sense of shock through your body. Jungkook feels your pussy tighten, which only meant one thing, “I’m going to squirt, oh fuck.” You rush out, trying so hard to push him off.
Jungkook found out you were squirted when he fucked you in the bathroom at a Christmas party. Your red skirt lifted up to your ass, and your Santa Claus hat held on for dear life with each thrust he slammed into you. You didn’t expect to leave the bathroom with a drenched shirt; you only laughed at his reaction.
Jungkook pulls out immediately, inserting three of his fingers in you before pounding them in and out of you. Your body spasms with each curl of his fingers inside you, sending spurts of liquid out of you with a scream. Your eye vision went blurry, and as your head went lightheaded from the immense pleasure you were feeling, your hands gripped so tightly on the sheets that they went white.
“Are you breathing?” Jungkook chuckles at your spent body on his bed. He gives your pussy a small slap before kissing your cheek. "Mhm,” you pout, closing your legs, which has him laughing before he stands up and makes his way to the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” You peek an eye open, watching him put on his boxers, his dick still hard from your guys previous activities. “I'm getting you a towel and clothes, princess.” Jungkook enters his bathroom, picking up a clean towel before making his way beside you.
“Let me clean you; spread." Jungkook taps on your thigh. You cover your face as he cleans you up. Small moans leave your mouth from the oversensitivity. You felt comfortable letting Jungkook do these things for you; even though they were super intimate, it didn’t feel wrong when Jungkook did it.
“All clean, let me help you put this on.” He motions to your pink panties you left a week ago in his house. Just thinking of Jungkook washing your underwear made your chest ache. "Up,” he says to your arms as he puts his black shirt over you.
“You didn’t come,” you say, looking at his erection. "It doesn’t matter; it’ll go away. Are you craving anything so I can DoorDash?” Jungkook skips over your question. “Wings..?” You pout as Jungkook picks you up and places you on the chair in his room as he changes the wet sheets for a new set.
“Order some; my phone is over there.” He points to his phone on the nightstand. Your heart skipped a beat. Not ever did one of your exes ever let you touch their phones, so for Jungkook to tell you to get his phone like nothing made your heart speed up, even if you both didn’t establish the boyfriend and girlfriend label.
Let’s just say you ended your night with wings in bed and a cute man cuddling with you all night until the morning.
#jungkook#bts jungkook#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fluff#bangtan#jungkook x reader#bts jk#jungkook smut#bts smut#bangtan smut#jjk smut#kpop smut#jk fanfic#jeon jk#jeon jungkook#jjk#fluff#smut#jungkook x oc#jungkook x you#pwp#pwp fics#jungkook pwp#jk#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jungkook masterlist#jeon jungguk
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STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing, mentions of death, gojo being sad and angry, 2006 gojo geto shoko.
note. for some reason i feel angsty today and i just saw this prompt on pin, just had to write it lol.
gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call — your very last call.
"i could've fuckin' saved them, suguru." gojo blankly stared at the ceiling, his head thrown back onto the couch's rest; he was conflicted, he didn't know what to do. it was as if his motoric abilities had just stopped all of a sudden.
"satoru . . ."
"i could've fuckin' saved y/n." the white haired male mumbled out, his face scrunching in frustration.
gojo has dealt with death. a lot. the concept of death isn't a stranger to him anymore, not in this world — and to think that he'd actually be alive to experience deaths of his loved ones, thinking he could have done so much more made him hate himself.
god, gojo hated crying in front of other people. the aura in the room was palpable. nobody spoke —nobody dared to speak— and the only sound resounding was the vague ticking belonging to the clock hanging on the wall.
"i could've fuckin' saved them," the male repeated for the third time, his voice breaking that he had to inhale sharply to stop himself from breaking down right there.
gojo pushed himself up, placing his palms above his eyes, pressing down on them harshly; he lets out a loud sigh, "where the fuck did it all go wrong?"
"y/n was killed in action . . ." god, gojo wanted to rip his hair out when yaga called him in privately to say that. the male had lost count of how many times the statement repeated in his mind.
frankly, it's haunting.
out of all the news he could have received today, he never expected to hear your death lulling into his eardrums. so soon. so many things swirling in his mind all at once that even he, deemed the strongest, felt the sensation of losing. he felt weak.
"hi, 'toru — you're probably busy since my call went straight to voice mail, but 'm just saying . . . i love you, and i miss you. so much." there was a slight pause and your breathing shallowed into the mic, every single detail in your last moments were graved in that file, "'m not sure if . . . i'll be back as soon as i promised, but, i just want you to know that whatever happens. happens."
there was a slight static before your soft voice recoiled back into the mic, "i've never broken any promises to you, but this might be the very first time — and just know that i've never wanted to do this, i fucking hate myself for this," your voice broke slightly, "'m bleeding. a lot. but 'm trying to stop it just like how ieiri taught me. and i think 'm doing shit at it . . . i don't know what happened, and how it happened; but 'm not doing okay."
"i don't want to die, 'toru." you whispered into the mic, hoarse and weak — feeling the life drain out, "i really don't want to die . . . i have so many things i want to do with you, and suguru, and ieiri . . ." you murmur out, inhaling sharply but it all ended up with you coughing out in pain.
"remember that time i said i wanted to open a pet hotel . . ? i don't know if you think i was joking, but i was really serious about opening one," you began to mumble out, all in random directions — none of your words make any sense anymore, and you could barely keep yourself awake.
"i don't want to die, please," you pleaded, desperate for life. no matter what you did at this point — the light inside of you was almost out, and you can't do anything about it, "fuck. i hate this. so much, 'toru."
"i want to see you again. i miss you. i miss you so so much," you softly murmur out, " . . . i love you. i love you so much, satoru."
and everything ended right after. including you.
gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call. your. very. last. call.
© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo#satoru#gojo angst#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk angst#gojo satoru angst#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#angst
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Try Me
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: suggestive
"Lan, c'mon..please don't go." You whined tightening your grip on Lando's shirt. "Stay with me"
"Baby, I want to, believe me, I do, but I told you I promised your brother to go out with him tonight. Why don't you come along with us?" He asked holding your cheeks between his hands and leaving a kiss on the tip of your nose.
"Because I want to spend some time alone with you. Why can't he go out with Charles or anyone else?"
"Charles is not feeling well, and besides, it will be suspicious if I turn him down for the second time today." He explained trying to get some sense into you, but you just decided to be a brat today because, well, you just felt like it. You wanted his attention. You needed his attention.
"Fine. Go with him then. I don't care." You pouted crossing your arms and turning your gaze away from him.
"Y/n.." He sighed turning your chin with his finger making you look at him. "I'm trying my best to spend as much time as possible with you here. If Carlos knew I spent the whole day with his sister in her hotel room I'd probably be a dead man right now. So if you want me alive, you gotta let me go now okay?"
Everything Lando said made sense. It's true that Carlos would haunt Lando for the rest of his life if he knew that he had been seeing his 5 years younger sister for over 6 months now. It's also true that Lando is a bit torn between the two of you. He doesn't want any trouble with his best friend, but he also doesn't want to even think about having to stop seeing you.
Lando and you were not in a relationship, well, not officially, you didn't call it a relationship because you were forbidden to him. You had been seeing each other for half a year and both of you knew that there was something more between you, more than just sex although you never put a label on it. The more time passed the more you liked each other and wanted to spend more time together so it got harder to keep it a secret.
"Give me a kiss" He said leaning down to your lips. You hesitate for a second, but give in rolling your eyes which Lando doesn't take very well. "No, no, don't do that."
You ignore him and head towards the bathroom not wanting to wait until he leaves your room. You just wanted to show your dissatisfaction with all your might.
"I'll talk to you later okay?"
"Whatever" You muttered before slamming the bathroom door shut.
Later that night, Lando was texting you just to check up on you, to see what you're doing, to see how you're spending your time without him and you decided to continue being a brat for the rest of the night. Because you just felt like it today.
'Just took a shower. Think I'm gonna go check up on Charles since he's not feeling well'
You replied smirking knowing that you mentioning Charles would completely push his buttons with you tonight. Ever since Carlos introduced you to them, both Charles and Lando have been trying to flirt with you. Only Charles has been doing it directly and Lando was more subtle with it. Lando was always more mysterious about it, that's probably the reason why you were attracted to him and not Charles.
So ever since he got his eyes on you, he hated that Charles was trying to get your attention. He hated that he was still doing it and yet he couldn't do anything about it because you two were a well kept secret.
'Oh really? Carlos and I saw him. He's just fine so you don't have to do that.'
He was replying back to your messages within seconds. You knew he was going crazy about it.
'Well, I'm gonna go check anyway'
Of course you weren't gonna go. You were all ready for bed, but since you didn't get what you wanted tonight, you decided to play with his head a little.
'Y/n..You have nothing to look for in his room'
'I mean it's not like I have a boyfriend if you really think about it. So..I don't think it would be inappropriate, no? '
'I can hear the attitude through the text. Fix it, before I fuck it out of you.'
His text sent shivers through your body. You threw your head back against your pillow sighing and reminiscing the way this morning the bed was squeaking beneath you two.
'I don't think you're gonna do anything about it'
'Oh, try me then'
#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris#carlos sainz#charles leclerc#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic
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I'm in a spooky vibe rn and I've been thinking about one of the enha members (hyung line) with a scream mask ( y'know from the movie sjshsj) about to m*rder reader but idk they get turned on and both got freaky 🫦
fffuuuuccccckkkk anon your brain is 😍 love this idea so much (fun fact scream is my favorite slasher movie and I even have a ghost face tattoo) I hope this is exactly what you’re looking for🤭 it’s funny because I also main ghost face in dead by daylight so when I saw this request I got SOOOO happy ~ I also made this a lot longer than I expected to but oops🤭🤭
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chill & kill: sim jaeyun
part one of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist
pairing: jake x afab!reader
word count: 6.4k
You sit up on the couch, eyes widening as you grab the TV remote and turn up the volume.
“The mysterious ghost face kill strikes again, killing two more college students in the library this morning. The bodies were discovered by…”
You quickly shot to your feet, grabbing your jacket and camera and slipping your feet into your boots tying them quickly as you slipped out your dorm door.
You never were so happy to live on campus as you ran from the dorm building and across campus to the library. Students surrounded the main entrance and you pushed your way through finally seeing the inside of the library.
“Hey!” a police officer yelled at you when you slipped under the caution tape, “You can’t be back here!”
You eyed him, pulling out your student journaling ID, “I have every right to be here.”
The officer tried to protest, but you kept your stride, making your way to the bodies ignoring the yelling officer behind you.
The closer you got, the more the smell of blood filled your senses, making your skin crawl. Your journaling partner was already on the scene, standing at the edge of the other caution tape marking off the two bodies.
You stood beside him, your heart sinking as you took in the bodies of the two females lying dead in front of you. They were just freshmen. Barely made it into college and fully started their lives.
From what you could see, they were stabbed multiple times in the chest and abdomen. One of their necks was slit, and the other looked like they were stabbed through their throat. They suffered, for sure.
“Who found them?” you asked him, taking your eyes off the dead bodies and turning to your partner. He had one arm crossed over his chest and gripped his elbow as his other arm was reached up and fingers gripping his chin.
He slowly tilted his head to look at you, streaks of his black hair fell into his eyes, “Funny enough,” he sighs, “Sunghoon and myself.”
You completely turned your whole body to him, “That’s why you’re here before me?! Jake, what happened?!”
Jake chucked, “You're more worried that I was here before you?” you narrowed your eyes at him, and he sighed again, completely wrapping his arms over his chest, looking back at the bodies. You could have sworn you saw a sparkle glint in his eyes. Jake has always been excited to be on the scene, same as you. But he enjoyed it a little bit more than you. He’ll make one damn good detective one day for sure, “Wanted to check out a book and saw the door already unlocked for the campus not even fully being opened yet. And that's when we found the bodies.”
“Where is Sunghoon now?” you asked, looking around the library, spotting him with the librarian and being questioned by a detective.
You went to walk over, to ask him questions, but Jake stopped you, putting a hand on your shoulder and pulling you towards him, his arm wrapping around over your chest, “Don’t question him, he’s really shaken up,” You wanted to protest, only for Jake to squeeze you tightly against him, your back pressing further into his chest, “Please, YN, he’s my best friend. I’ll take care of it. I promise.”
You sigh and nod. Letting Jake take the lead with this one.
But you still had a job to do. So you pulled out your camera, taking a few photos. Once you finished with the photos, you pulled your journal from your back pocket, asked Jake a few questions, and took his account down then turned back to the bodies and took your own notes.
You circled the area, taking in every inch and piece of information you could. Jotting down everything in your little notebook.
Jake kept his eyes on you, watching you do your thing. His eyes sparkled more the longer his eyes lingered on you. He eventually dropped his gaze and went back to looking at his best friend, watching as he sat at one of the tables, knees pressed to his chest and hands curled into his hair. The small smile Jake had fell at the sight of his best friend and—
“Jake!” You called for him, bringing his attention back to you, “I think I found something.”
“Oh?” He walks over to you and kneels down on the floor beside you, your camera resting on your knees as you point your finger toward one of the dead girls, “What am I looking at honey?”
You groaned and rolled your eyes, “Under her body, there’s a black glove,” you looked at Jake. His jaw clenched tightly, “The killer must have accidentally lost it, dropped it, or whatever. Maybe she fought them or something. I don’t know. But I want to figure it out.”
You took a few close-up photos of the glove and turned back around to show Jake, noticing a scratch mark sliding down the left side of his neck. You hadn’t seen it before since you were standing on his right side, but it looked deep and irritated, “What happened there?” You reached up to touch it, but he grabbed your hand quickly and set it down at your side.
“Hoon and I were wrestling earlier at our apartment and I hit the side of our entertainment center, I am fine.”
You thinned your lips into a line, boys will be boys you guess. Their apartment was a lot smaller than the dorms on campus, they must have been fucking around at a good spot to have knocked Jake into their entertainment center.
Eventually, the police shooed you and Jake off the scene. Forcing you two to head to the journaling office. You printed off the photos you took and made copies of your notes, passing them to Jake.
You glanced at the clock, it was now ten thirty am and classes would be resuming like normal, so you and Jake went your separate ways.
Jake was still new to being a journalist. You were a club of two, consisting of just you and another girl who helped write the articles for you while you took care of the rest. She wrote her own things, mostly on the sports or other small crimes that happen on campus, but with the ghost face killer making his rounds, you took up the role of this case with her helping on the side. At first, you took it all on yourself, but as the body count started piling up, you needed the help. So you let her help and put out an application for an extra set of hands, which Jake answered.
You’ve seen him around campus before he joined you. Was born and raised in this town. Being the town's sweetheart and golden puppy boy. You did some research on him before allowing him into your club, can’t have the killer join you, right?
He was the captain of his soccer team in middle and high school. Has taken his school’s team to the championships multiple times and was the heartthrob of the school. He donated to charity when he could and volunteered at the police station on the weekends in hopes of landing a good detective job there after graduation. He was the whole definition of a straight-A good boy student. Perfect for your team. He became your partner and you taught him everything you knew. When Jake joined, the body count from this ghost face killer was only three. But with the two bodies that were found today, it was now at fifteen.
In between your classes, you found yourself back at the club office, pinning the new photos to the corkboard in the back of the room, wrapping red string between the pushpins and possible suspects. After staring at the corkboard for what felt like hours, the other female club member came in and you helped her write the article. Give her your notes and advising as she writes.
Jake popped in and out of the office as well, brainstorming with you about the suspects and the time of events that happened. You both spun in circles that led to nowhere. You ask Jake again about speaking to Sunghoon, and he shoots you down, “Give him some time. I’ll get the police report soon and it’ll help, I am sure.”
A week has gone by since the murder in the library. You ended up shifting the corkboard from the office and into the corner of your kitchen, using the fluorescent light of the kitchen bulbs to light the board more. You leaned against the back of your couch, it being the furthest you could step away from the board. Biting at your nails as your eyes scanned every murder case. Every newspaper article and police report on the board.
Nothing made sense. Nothing connected. Whoever this killer was, they were good. Covered their tracks without so much as a piece of hair at any scene of their crimes. Until the glove.
You ran your hands into your long hair, scratching at the back of your head. You needed that police report that Jake still has yet to give you. Needed to speak to Sunghoon. There were missing pieces and those two things were important. You looked over to the clock above the kitchen sink. It was almost one thirty in the morning. But you still got up and slid into your sneakers, pulled your jacket on, and bounced out the door.
Finding yourself in front of Jake and Sunghoon’s front door, knocking loudly. There was no answer. So you did the next best thing and called Jake’s cell phone.
There was some shuffling on the other end of the door and a groan. The door opened and you find a half-awake Jake before you, his hair a mess and spreading in every direction, wearing a plain white tee shirt and a pair of black and blue checkered boxers, “YN,” he sleepily growled and then yawned, “It’s almost two am, what is it?”
“Can I have the police report?”
Jake blinked at you, “Huh?”
You crossed your arms, “The police report. Can I have it?”
Jake let out another yawn, “It’s at the school, in the office.”
Of course, it was. And the campus is closed and if you get caught sneaking in just to get a piece of paper…You sigh, “Thanks anyway,” you softly say, and turn around to walk down the stairs but stop, “Can I talk to Sunghoon?”
Jake scoffs, leaning against the doorframe, “It’s almost two am,” he repeats, “Why are you out here so late? There’s a literal killer running around here.”
You knew that. And still took that risk to come out here. The killer had to be a student at your college. Every murder had been college kids. It had to be another student. That’s what made being out here so dangerous.
“I know,” you shrugged, “But I can’t stand by and do nothing.”
Jake frowned, “You know you’re allowed to actually be a college student right? Live a normal life too?” you shrugged again, and he just scoffed again, “YN, go home and rest. Let the detectives with actual badges handle it. We can only do so much.”
You narrow your eyes at him, “Let me speak to Sunghoon.”
Jake stands his ground, “No. Go. Home. Before you get yourself killed.”
You roll your eyes, “See you tomorrow then.”
Jake mimicked your words and watched as you walked down the steps before walking back inside and going back to sleep.
You didn’t understand why Jake was so against you speaking to Sunghoon. Maybe he was being protective? Sunghoon didn’t look the best after finding the bodies. He was probably so shaken up. But it only made you want to speak to him more. And that need only grew more when you noticed Sunghoon’s car wasn’t in its normal parking spot beside Jake’s.
Meaning he wasn’t home.
You’ve respected Jake’s wishes on not to talk to Sunghoon, but this matter was getting serious and Sunghoon just might be the big break you needed. So you quickly walked off the apartment complex, glancing back to make sure Jake was outside, and pulled your phone from your pocket as you kept walking and dialed a number.
“Hello?”
“Sunghoon, where are you right now?”
—
You found him atop the bleachers of the soccer field just like he said he would be. A soccer ball sat between his feet, grass scuff marks were at the ends of his jeans, and sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows and sweat dripped down the side of his face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he came here to kick the ball around. Probably as a distraction.
You sat down beside him, “How are you holding up?”
Sunghoon scoffs, “Holding up as in a week ago I found two dead bodies in the middle of the library or holding up because I’ve been questioned left and right by everyone or my best friend/roommate has smothered me to stay home and take time.”
You felt bad for him, mostly for what you’re about to ask him. He wanted to obviously forget what he saw, who could blame him? It takes special people to see a dead body and not be fazed by it.
“I’m sorry for asking you to do this again…”
Sunghoon just shrugs, “If I am being honest, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now.”
You raised your brow, “Yeah?”
He nodded, “Jake was against it,” he took a deep breath, “Something was off that day…with him.”
“What do you mean?” You placed a hand on his knee, “You can tell me anything. Start with the beginning.”
Sunghoon looked you in your eyes, then looked off into the distance at the field, “He told me that morning he was meeting our coach, for a one-on-one coaching session. At first, I didn’t think anything about it, being he was a soccer prodigy or whatever.” You nodded, remembering how much of the soccer star Jake was back in high school, “So you could probably understand my surprise when I got a call from our coach saying he tried to get ahold of Jake and then he confirmed with me that they did in fact not have a meeting that day.”
You sat back against the bleacher seat behind you, staring off onto the field, letting the gears in your brain slowly turn, waiting for Sunghoon to continue.
“I got scared, rushing out of the apartment and searching everywhere for him. Scared and thinking I was going to find my best friend murdered somewhere, ya know?” You understood, with this killer on the loose everyone was watching their backs and afraid. Who would be next? Who is next? “But I found him, lingering around the library building, digging through his soccer duffle bag. My heart almost stopped when I saw him…alive,” he took a deep breath, “So I confronted him, and he played it off that he did have a practice, but was with his coach from high school.”
You looked back at him, to read his face. Seeing how pale his skin was becoming, “I believed him at first, thinking maybe I misheard that morning. So we started walking back, but he kept digging through the duffle bag, looking frantic. He wasn’t acting himself. Said something about needing to go to the library, about finding a book or something, and then took off. But I followed after him. I didn’t want to leave him alone, not with ghost face running around. But when I got to the library, I…couldn’t find him. I saw him go through the back door instead of the front. But once I walked in and noticed all the doors were already unlocked…then I found the bodies.”
You squeezed his knee, “It’s okay.”
He nodded, swallowing and looking down at the soccer ball, “I smelt the blood first and then noticed their bodies. And then…then there were footsteps behind me and I knew that I was next. But the library walked in through the front entrance and started screaming, her eyes darting to me, saying we did it. I turned around to see Jake standing behind me. His skin was pale and sweaty. Eyes wide as he stared back at me and then at the bodies and the librarian. He’s never been surprised to see the bodies. He’s been working with you for over half a year. So when I saw the look on his face…the surprise that was there.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but Sunghoon kept going, “The weirdest thing is his duffle bag was missing from his shoulder,” Sunghoon scoffs, “How did it just disappear.” It was a good question. A very good one. “He hasn’t been the same since then.”
You tried to lighten the mood, “Maybe you knocked something loose in his head when the two of you wrestled the other day.” Sunghoon gave you a confused look, “You know? He said you two got too close to your TV stand and he got scuffed up by the edge of it. Making a scratch on his neck,” you pointed to the right side, tracing a finger down the side of your neck to mimic where Jake has his slowly fading scar now, “It’s right here.”
Sunghoon raised a brow, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We haven’t wrestled inside the apartment.” Your smile faded. Sunghoon’s phone started vibrating and he pulled it from his pocket, seeing Jake’s caller ID on the screen, “Guess he noticed I wasn’t home.” Sunghoon locked his phone, ignoring the call, “I haven’t been telling him when I’ve left the apartment. So I better prepare myself with a talk when I get back.” He stood up and started walking down the bleachers, “Thank you for listening to me, I don’t want to suspect my best friend, and it probably isn’t even him. He’s just weird, I guess.”
You watched as he disappeared before standing up and finally finding yourself back at your dorm and in bed. Replaying Sunghoon’s story over and over, trying to piece it all together. It still didn’t make sense. None of it did. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from texting Jake, asking him to meet you at your dorm as soon as he could tomorrow, and him responding he had soccer practice but would be here right after.
—
“You should really keep your front door locked, YN, there’s a killer out there.” Jake teased you as he made himself at home, dropping his duffle bag into a chair at your kitchen table, his eyes going to the corkboard, “Make any progress yet?”
You stared down at the duffle bag quickly before looking up at him, then back to the board, “No I haven’t. I left my door unlocked on purpose. Knew you’d be coming here.”
Jake smiled at you and stood beside you at the back of your couch, looking at the board, “We’ll catch him, don’t worry honey.”
You glanced at him slightly, your heart winced at the nickname he’d given you. You looked to his neck, seeing the scratch still healing but faded, being nothing more than a pink line.
Jake looked down at you, giving a smile, “Can I freshen up in your bathroom? I bet I don’t smell the greatest from practice.”
You scrunch your nose, “Yes, please. You smell.”
Jake just rolls his eyes playfully and slides his hand up and down your back quickly before leaving your side, “I’m stealing your deodorant.”
You waited until you saw him turn the corner and heard the bathroom door close and lock before slowly walking to his duffle bag.
You didn’t want to suspect Jake anymore than Sunghoon did. But his story last night didn’t add up. No part of it did. Jake’s actions didn’t add up. Jake’s story he gave you didn’t match Sunghoon’s or the librarian's. None of the pieces were adding up no matter how much you tried to force the pieces together.
You looked down the hallway, then back at the bag, and slowly unzipped it, your hand flying to your mouth quickly to stop any noise from coming out. You took a couple of deep breaths and continued looking into the bag.
The police report you asked for along with the glove from the scene of the crime was in the bag in a ziplock bag. Along with the other matching glove and the ghost face mask and the black suit. You pulled the mask out of the bag with shaky hands. Why did Jake have these items? You knew. You knew why and still tried to find another explanation. But after seeing the contents of his bag…the pieces of the puzzle fit. Everything clicked and made sense.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to go through people’s things, honey?” before you could move, a knife was pressed to your neck and his other arm was wrapped around your waist, “I expected better from you than to snoop around.”
Jake’s hot breath was hitting your ear, sending chills down your spine. Any doubts you had were now out the window. Jake is ghost face. Jake is the killer.
“Keeping secrets is very rude too,” you retorted back, dropping the mask back into his bag, “But I figured you already knew that I found out, hint why you leave your bag so easily for me to look through.”
Jake chuckles, squeezing his arm around you and pressing the knife further against your skin, “Can’t get anything past you, can I?”
“Why?” you asked, tilting your head at the movement of him brushing the side of his face to yours.
“Why did I do it?” he nuzzled his nose on the shell of your ear, “You’ll need to be specific, honey.”
You swallowed, “Everything.”
Jake chuckles again, “Because it’s fun.” It was such a simple yet spine-chilling answer, “You think I played this fucking good boy persona because I actually wanted to? No, no. I had to play that persona. To hide my secret. This is all a game to me, YN.”
“It’s why you joined our club,” you swallowed again, “To make it harder for us to figure you out.”
Jake shrugs, gently biting at the shell of your ear then rubbing his nose against it again, “I thought it would add to the fun, honestly. Yeah having an inside made it so much easier. It covered my tracks well. Until you started picking up on every. Fucking. Thing.” he hissed, tightening his grip, “You made it harder to cover up my tracks. Picking apart every smallest thing with each murder. I was lucky you didn’t suspect me, that was until you started poking your nose more into my business, you don’t think I didn’t know you tore the office apart looking for the police report before coming to my apartment? That you talked to Sunghoon even after I told you not to?”
“You have our phones and the office bugged,” this should surprise you, but it doesn’t. It made sense.
He pressed his lips to your ear, “Smart girl. Think I wouldn’t bug your phone? Or my best friends?”
“Jake, you were going to kill him, weren’t you.”
Another low chuckle, “Yes,” your body stilled, feeling cold, “It would have been a pity, really, to kill off my best friend all because he also stuck his nose where he shouldn’t have.”
You looked down at his bag, seeing the bag gloved, “You went back to the library for the glove, you fucked up.”
He growled in your ear, “Shut up! That bitch fought me instead of taking it. I didn’t even realize my glove was gone until after I murdered them both and fled the scene. That’s when Sunghoon showed up. I knew I had to go back and find where the fuck my glove went before someone else did. I didn’t know he was following me until I went to go back and check the bodies after tearing apart the other side of the library and saw him standing there. I quietly set my bag in one of the reading rooms and locked the door, slipping my knife into the back of my jeans. Preparing myself to kill my best friend.”
“All to keep your fucking secret,” you snapped at him, his hands on your body getting tighter.
“Watch it, honey,” he hissed, “You do have a knife to your throat right now.”
“She fought you right? Probably knocked off your mask too. She saw your face, and you acted quickly and sliced her throat. Not before she left her own scratch on your neck.”
Jake nodded, a wide smile on his face, “Nothing gets past you. You’d make a great detective someday, honey.”
You needed to turn him in. Needed to get out of here and turn him in before he could kill anyone else. Fifteen. He’s murdered fifteen people. Probably more before he took up the ghost face mantle.
Jake pressed his chest to your back, “You know,” he whispers, “I’ve dreamed about doing this with you, my knife to your throat,” he rocked his hips against your ass, “It’s so fucking hot.”
It was now or never. You tilted your head to the side, taking the skin of his forearm between your teeth and biting hard.
“Fuck!” he shouted, his hand flexing and dropping the knife to the floor and his grip on you loosening.
You pushed him back with your back and sent him falling to his ass. You barely made it two steps away from him before both of his hands were on your ankles, tripping you to the floor and pulling you towards him.
You kicked your legs but not getting out of his strong grip. Jake worked fast to flip you over onto your back, his hands now at your wrists and holding them up and above your hand, pinning them to the floor. He straddled you, locking his legs around yours to keep you from wiggling them.
“Stop fighting me!” he growled, using all his weight to pin you to the floor.
You stopped, chest rising and falling as you stared up at his beautiful killing face.
He held your wrists down with one hand and reached for his knife with the other, chuckling as he once again held the knife to your throat, “You look so pretty like this baby, all underneath me like this.”
Jake was so turned on by this. He’s only dreamed of having you pinned underneath him with his favorite weapon against your skin. Dreamed what you’d sound and look like. This passed his expectations. It went even further than that. His cock twitched in his pants seeing the look of anger all over your face.
“You get horny every time you kill someone?” you spat out at him, the fire in your eyes burning.
Jake cocked his head, “You’re not afraid of me?”
“Why would I be afraid of a horn dog who likes killing people?”
Jake laughs, adjusting his legs from yours, using his knees to spread your legs apart, sliding himself between them, “Baby, you’re the only one I’ve ever got horny over. The others were just killings to kill. But you? You do something to me.”
From the moment Jake first saw you on campus he wanted to be buried balls deep in your cunt. Wanted to fuck you so hard as he softly made cuts on your arms to watch you bleed as your moans of pain and pleasure filled his ear holes. Wanted to cum so deep within you and make you his.
He had more than just joined the club to hide his killings as his reason. He wanted to get closer to you, get to know you. Then kill you after he got his dick wet. But what he didn’t expect was you figuring him out so soon. His plans got pushed up. He wanted you afraid of him as he killed you. He didn’t expect you to look at him with fury, so unafraid.
Jake leaned down, being inches away from your face, the knife pressing harder against your neck, “You get me so hard,” he rocked his hips between you, his hard cock rubbing against your clothed cunt. You tried to not whimper, to keep your firm face, but the effect he was having on you down south was obvious. He wasn’t stupid, you knew that.
You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been crushing on Jake since he walked into the club for the first time. How couldn’t you? He was perfect. Still was as he sat atop you with a knife to your neck.
You relaxed your body, “If you’re going to kill me, then do it.”
Jake smiled, “Want me to?” He released your hands from his grip and slid the knife from your neck and down to your shirt, his free hand looping his fingers at the collar, using the knife to cut a line, tearing the fabric and exposing your laced bra and skin. Jake tucked his lip between his teeth. Fuck you looked so much better than what you did in his dreams. So much better than he imagined. He slid the tip of the knife down your chest, rounding it around your breast and down your sternum, “Where should I start?” He placed both hands at the sides of your head and bent down, lips brushing against yours, “Tell me, baby.”
You lifted your head, connecting your lips to his. Taking in the taste of his cherry chapstick and the softness of his lips. He rocked his hips against yours, moaning into your mouth, “Start by taking the rest of my clothes off.”
He laughs against your lips and then pulls away, setting the knife down at your side to pull his famous white tee shirt off his body, “Yeah?” you nodded, eyes darting to his bare chest and abs, “So fucking dirty,” he cooed, “Should have known you were into killers.”
You sat up on your elbows, ready to reach for the button of his jeans, but found the knife back in his hand and the tip pointing at your chest, “Lay back down, baby, no need to be so impatient.”
His free hand touched your shoulder and gently pressed you back to the floor. You kept your eyes on him as he unbuttoned his jeans, the knife still in hand as he wiggled out of his jeans and boxers, leaving him bare to you.
You watched as he took his length between his fingers, slowly pumping himself, him biting his lips. You were growing too impatient. Needing to feel him against you, in you, “Jake,”
“Shhh, honey,” he whispers, dropping his hands to your shorts, “I know.”
The cool metal of the knife brushed your skin as he pulled your shorts and panties down your thighs. Goosebumps formed on your skin and making Jake chuckle, enjoying this more than he’d thought, “You love the way my knife feels against you?” He tossed your clothing somewhere off into the void of the room, settling himself back between your legs, his tip prodding your entrance, “love the way it feels to glide against your skin?” He sent the knife sliding up your tummy, his hips pushing his cock in your pussy, slowly stretching you.
Jake bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. He hissed out in pure pleasure of finally being buried so deep inside you, the pleasure of how fucking good you felt wrapped around him, “fuck baby,” he smiles, sliding the knife to your waist, wanting to cut open your skin and see how pretty your blood would look pooling out, “feel so good and I’m not even moving.”
You bucked your hips up against him, wanting to feel any kind of friction. Jake drops the knife to the floor, his hands pinning your arms above your head again, “I told you to stop being so impatient.”
“Jae, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I need you.”
Hearing you beg for him had him gone and all he cared about now was fucking you. To make you feel so good until you’re cumming around his dick.
Jake started out slow, burying his face in your neck, “Why aren’t you afraid, hmm? I could kill you right now.”
You leaned into him, squeezing your legs tighter on him to push him even further into you, “Because I have secrets of my own.”
Jake chuckled, bucking his hips harder and faster into yours, his lips pressing to yours. Tongue sliding down your throat and exploring your mouth. One hand leaving yours to cup your breast, his thumb and index finger pinching your nipple, “Tell me your secrets.”
“You already seem to know them all, stalker,” you hissed, throwing your head back against the floor at him pinching your nipple harder in the same movement of him pushing his dick hard against your cervix, pressing so hard to break whatever barrier that was stopping him from completely filling you whole as his hip bones knocked against yours.
“Tell me anyway,” he whispers between kisses, now sliding his mouth down to your ear, licking the shell of it, “I don’t know what you haven’t texted or physically talked about.”
“I have feelings for you,” you felt insane saying it out loud. Felt crazy that you even admitted it to him. To the person who was fucking you into pure bliss. To a murderer, “I’m obsessed with you, Jake.”
Jake bit down into your neck, both of his hands sliding underneath you to wrap at your shoulders, fucking his hips against you faster. His teeth sank into your skin tearing it slightly, a small sprinkle of blood escaping.
“Fuckkkk,” he moans, tasting the brassy liquid on his tongue, “Even your blood tastes good.”
He was fucking crazy. You knew he was. But everything about him drew you to him. Made you want him more.
And him hearing how obsessed you were with him made him even crazier about you.
“Such a good girl,” he cooed, “Letting me fuck you like this, looking so pretty for me this way.” He bucked his hips faster, adjusting his legs on the floor to spread yours even wider, giving him more access to hit your weak spots and to hit them just right.
You pulled at his hair, “Jake!” you moaned out his name, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap, “I’m going…fuck…I’m going to cum.”
“Please,” he groaned, “Cum for me baby,” he sticks his tongue out, flattening it against the bite he left on your shoulder, licking up the new blood that pooled out, “fucking cum around my cock for me, honey.”
A few more thrusts and you came around him. Tingles spread throughout your body at the feeling of your release. Jake moans at feeling the mess you’ve made on his cock, him working his dick faster in your cunt to chase out the release he wants. The one he’s dreamed about having with you. His hand only did so much for him with his thoughts while back at his apartment. But now he was balls deep in your sweet pussy, having you right where he wanted you.
“Gonna cum soon,” he panted, hands squeezing your shoulders, “fuck I want to cum in this cunt so bad.”
You pulled at his hair harder, the overstimulation hitting you hard, “Jae, I can’t—“
“I know, baby,” he pressed his forehead against yours, his brows furrowing and eyes shut tightly, “Going to fill this pussy to the brim, understand? This pussy is mine.”
Jake pressed a kiss to your lips and lifted up, taking your legs and pressing them to your chest, pistoning into you faster but sloppy, “Shit,” he hissed, “Fixing to cum—fuck—I’m cumming, honey, I’m cum—“ one final thrust, and his white ropes spilled into you. He pressed his hips against you and held them there, making sure every last drop of his cum made it deep within, none to be wasted.
“Fuck,” he cursed, slowly lifting himself back up and dropping your legs back to the floor, “Sex with you was so much better than in my head. I only dreamt how good this pussy would feel. How good it’d feel to cum in you.”
Jake was definitely more obsessed with you than you were with him. And he honestly didn’t care how obvious it was.
“Fuck I am in love with you.” he chuckles, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs.
You tilted your head to the side, seeing the knife sitting there idle. Jake clocked where your eyes landed, but he wasn’t fast enough as you quickly grabbed it, being the one who now held the knife to his throat, the fire in your eyes back.
Jake might have just came, but his dick twitched and hardened again between the walls of your fuck hole. His crazy smile is so wide and his eyes so lustful. Seeing you so ready to end him right here and now made him crazier. Made him crave you even more.
He wouldn’t kill you now. No, no. How could he kill the love of his life? How could he slide that knife into your skin and cut you open? You were precious to him, more than what he thought before. Maybe the sex drew him in, but you weren’t getting away from him that easily.
“Awe, babe,” he cooed, taking your wrist in his hand and slowly removing the knife from your hand, “This is how this will go now,” he tossed the knife across the room and out of reach, pinning your arms back to the floor, slowly rocking his hips, “You will keep your fucking mouth shut, got it? Close this ghost face case and if anyone asks you don’t know anything about it. Give it up. All for me, okay baby?”
You nodded, not being able to say no to those brown eyes. It was toxic, whatever relationship you just found yourself in. You became that girl in books and movies who fell for the killer. It surprises you at how fast you were willing to drop everything for him. To keep his secret.
He kisses you gently and fucked you on the floor until you both came again and again and again.
What did you get yourself into?
— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez
#yeonzzzn asks#— 🔪 anon#jake bby#jake sim#sim jake#sim jaeyun#sim jake smut#sim jaeyun smut#enhypen#enhypen fanfic#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen smut#enhypen hard thoughts#ghostface au#enhypen hard hours#yeonzzzn writing#ghostface!jake
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✎ treasure
- gojo satoru x reader
the strongest sorcerer meets his match in his petulant son, who inherits his six eyes and is having trouble with them
genre:
taking care of your son with dad!gojo, fluff/comfort
note:
AAAA i love this waaay too much!😭 this brilliant idea gave me baby fever so bad came from an anon who so energetically dropped by my askbox, thank you! and seeing this artwork by Yoon in twitter definitely gave me more ideas too!
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
"No!"
"Why? This helps—"
"That's ugly! I don't want to look ugly—like you!"
Satoru blinked in utter disbelief, and you broke into the most satisfying fits of laughter. In front of him, standing tall and sullen and very much like him was his own son, now barely five years old.
Your boy mentioned that he had been experiencing discomfort in his eyes lately, which also caused him to become dizzy. And Satoru attempted to persuade him to use a blindfold like he did because it was effective.
However, as we can see, his son didn't take his suggestion well at all. His bright blue eyes, ones your husband passed down, bore an intense glare aimed squarely at him.
"I..." Satoru sputtered, his eyes twitching. The sight was comical as no one had ever managed to elicit such a reaction from him. And no one ever considered him an unattractive person too! "I'm not—"
"You are!"
Once again, you let out a triumphant cackle, and this time your husband shot you a glare. But you didn't care. All those years of tolerating his antics had paid off. His son had finally put him in his place!
When he was a baby, you thought your son was Gojo Satoru incarnate. He was the spitting image of him—with all gaits and expressions too. And you had worried if he would turn out to be just as much of a menace as he was.
But apparently, life has other sweet plans because like you, he was a relatively calm boy, diligent, and didn't like to make a fuss. Satoru argued that it was definitely in his genes—claiming he had also been a sweetheart when he was a child, but you couldn't quite imagine him being remotely as reserved as your son.
That aside, the cause of this hilarious exchange did actually make you worry a bit.
"Look, I know it probably looks odd," Satoru gestured at the blindfold in his hand, but your little boy still didn't seem convinced by the pout he displayed. "But it will help you, I promise. If only you would—"
Oh, but it was almost like karma because besides his appearance, the other trait your son inherited from your husband was his strong sense of winning.
His face reddened from sheer indignation, and he once again screamed, "I don't want to! I'll just cover my eyes with—" he took a nearby napkin and pulled them over his eyes, "—this!"
Satoru sighed in annoyance, and you decided to jump in. Crouching down next to him, you gently pried the napkin from his hand.
"Papa just wants to help you, okay?" you reasoned, cupping his plump cheeks. Gods, he used to be this round thing in your and Satoru's arms and now he was already this big. "He uses it everyday and he has no problems, see?"
"But it doesn't look good..." Your son drooped his head in disappointment, and you could feel Satoru rolling his eyes beside you, evidently miffed at the thought of him being less than good-looking.
Parenting is challenging, especially when your husband still holds onto some of his childlike tendencies. So you decided to end the discussion here.
It was later at noon, while you were in the kitchen preparing lunch when you heard your son's scream and something crashing. Your heart was in your throat as you rushed to the backyard, only to see something that made your heart lurch even more.
Your sweet boy was wailing on the ground, clutching his head, and Satoru—
His expression was as horrified as yours if not more, as he ran and caught your son in his arms, pressing him tightly against his chest as if shielding him from the sun altogether. "Shit. Hey, hey—buddy, you okay?”
Satoru lifted him up and carried him inside. You were right beside him as he settled on the sofa, gently hushing your son, who was still shaking and had his eyes covered against his chest.
"M-My head..." your son whimpered, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. "...h-hurts..."
"It's okay, it's okay..." he murmured, caressing the child's hair in a soothing manner, and it reminded you so much of what he would do to you in the early mornings. "I've got you now, nothing’s going to happen to you. Hang on a little longer, yeah?"
You felt warm tears threatening to well up in your eyes at the sight. It was heart-wrenching to see your son in such torment, and the way your husband was consoling him deeply touched you. It served as a poignant reminder of just how many years had passed from when Gojo Satoru was still that brat who used to mess with you during high school.
Soon, your little boy's breathing became even, and he went to sleep in Satoru's comforting embrace.
You looked at him while biting your lip, undiluted worry in your voice. "What should we do? He's been experiencing pain often lately..."
Satoru really wanted to wipe that expression from your face, but with his precious child clinging onto him for dear life, even he didn't have the heart to.
"Don't worry, I'll be with him," he assured, a plan already forming in his mind. "If he hates blindfolds that much, then I'll get him some pairs of glasses just like the ones I have—for kids. We'll start with that."
Bearing the weight of his clan's revered eyes was a heavy burden, and honestly, he would prefer it if none of his children had to inherit them. After all, he went through it all too as a child—the manifestation of the six eyes' powers marks the beginning of life as a sorcerer. The perilous world he was still trying to keep away from his son.
Nonetheless, he would be there for him every step of the way. It was what he vowed to himself on the day he was born. He wouldn’t let anything befall him—or you.
You had calmed down after hearing his plan, and as you gazed at your precious boy’s innocent face in his protective grip and the gentle pats he gave him, you suddenly found yourself in a mischievous mood once again.
"Heh, quite the doting papa, aren't you, Satoru?" you winked, a teasing smile on your face. You could have sworn his cheeks slightly flushed as he retorted:
"Hmph. He is my personal little body warmer, after all."
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk drabbles#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk x you#gojo x reader#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fanfic#dad!gojo#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo x you#gojo#gojo satoru imagines#jjk fluff#satoru gojo fluff#jjk gojo#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru x reader
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He’s feeling bonita
#i think it’s funny cuz remember when i had to go the family gathering and wanted to draw? i actually wanted to draw us in dresses and doing#each other’s make up. i also wanted to make an animatic of us with the ‘do you or do you not feel bonita’ audio#seeing this made my day 😭 it’s rly great to know he would LOVE make up awwww <333#also yes i’m still scrolling on fox’s CC. i’m studying my joyfriend closely and taking noted#s*#so far he’s rly close to how I interpreted him. except for him not understanding or liking animals that much 💔 it’s okay he’s my pookie idc#that he wouldn’t help me take care of my cats#op said he likes bitter flavors and also lime. which i actually thought he’d rly like so i’m happy 👍#I remember asking him if he’d prefer bitter chocolate over sweet chocolate expecting him to like bitter chocolate and he actually did answer#that he prefers bitter. niicceee. i now my pookie so well <333#i actually did not expect him to have a birthday. let alone a zodiac sign. his birthday is non-existent tho (nov 35th) but i’ll round it to#the nearest date (nov 30th)#should i do that?? or should i just count the days after nov 30 and make that his birthday??? idk#honestly him being a sag makes so much sense because i always fall in love with sag’s. when i read that he’s a sag i just paused and had a#whole cut scene play in my head#pink backdrop. rose petals flying around. sparkles and bubble. an arrow in my heart… like it made sense…#i’m an aqua (duh my birthday is in pinned post) and i get a long w sag’s so often uggghhh i love them!!#i sound like an astrology nerd but i promise i’m not. i just like to know these fun little facts abt each person’s sign n stuff#alright gonna go back to collecting as much info on my baby as possible <3 ciao!!#desperatelover.txt#f/o: john doe
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BIRTHDAY SEX (p.sh)
"S-sunghoon slow down oh my god " your eyes rolled all the way to the back of your head while your boyfriend's cock pounded your cervix without mercy. His hips angled perfectly to reach your pleasure point, his cockhead bumping your g spot head on, ripping guttural moans from your throat. Your fingers fisted his hairs while pushing your pelvic up to meet his every thrust. The pleasure was beginning to overwhelm your mind.
"You-you promised me baby-holy fuck" He pants in your ear, his tongue coming out to lick your ear sensually, completely lost in the pleasure your pussy is giving him.
"Promised me an entire day of sex on my birthday so don't-god stop squeezing me like that-" He cuts himself off with a loud groan, your cunt throbs around him, clenching in arousal at his wanton moans of ecstasy. His hands move down to grab your thighs and he spreads you apart more, trying to grind further into you, his hips swiveling and thrusting at an unforgiving pace. His rough touches send a shiver down your spine, your body feeling feverish, being held down to take and feel his animalistic desire unleash on your cunt.
"Don't stop me n-now, can't stop even if I wanted to, pussy so g-good, so fucking wet"
His words made you wetter, slicker, yours and his thighs covered in cum and a mixture of your juices.
you cried his name in a mix of pain cum pleasure, your lower region throbbing with primal want but your brain begging you for a break from the continuous sexual stimulation. The squelching sounds from your fucking were too loud, overwhelming you further. He bit harshly into the soft tempting skin of your neck, not caring if it hurt, too focused on how his cock felt inside your fuck hole. It was heaven. His body using yours for pleasure, getting hungrier and greedier with every thrust.
All of a sudden your boyfriend was bending you in half, your legs settled on his shoulders, his hot breaths falling on your lips, his dark lust filled eyes staring into yours. You had never seen sunghoon like this before. When u gave him permission for free use of your body on his birthday, u awoke something in him that u didn't know was there.
His hips were harsh, pounding into your wet heat with passion and vigor, you dug your nails into his shoulders while he made out with your feet, his tongue licking up your toes, biting and moaning around them, just hungry for your taste.
"Tell me you like this baby, tell me you like how we fuck, tell me you like getting used like this" he grunted with his every thrust, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he threw his head back in pleasure. Your pussy leaking in arousal, the sex felt too good
"Like it so much hoonie, s-so much, just slow, please s-slow" You whimpered, too weak to push him away but your mind was starting to give up on you. He had been inside of you since morning, just fucking away, pounding into your tight cunt with abandon. You had forgotten how many times you had cum and how many times he had stuffed you full of his fuck cream, the overstimulation clouding your senses.
"Yeah? Want me to-fuck yeah-want me to slow down? " He panted, bending down to bite your lower lip, suckling on it as he slowed down his rampant thrusts into a slow, deep grind, rotating his hips to feel your walls clench.
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, sneaking your tongue out to meet his own, exchanging wet messy kisses when all of a sudden his hips were pistoning into your womb at a maddening pace, a gasp falling from your lips at this. He groaned into your mouth, just sucking on your tongue even though you weren't kissing back, your mind getting lost in pleasure feeling how deep his tip was making out with your cervix.
The sight of your ankle bracelet dangling above his shoulders was so sinful along with the erotic sounds of flesh meeting flesh, skin slapping skin, wet and messy groins grinding against each other to reach pleasure.
"Don't fucking ask me to fucking slow down when I'm trying to fucking breed with you baby" He panted breaking away from sucking on your tongue, just watching how your mouth was open in a silent cry, eyes rolling back in ecstasy.
"F-fuck yeah, breed with me baby, look how your hips wanna be fucking breeded" he groaned in satisfaction, he looked down between your bodies to see your hips thrusting upwards to meet his every stroke, a rhythm forming between your sweaty naked bodies, his thick cock covered in your pussy juices moving in and out of your tight, dripping pussy.
"Fucking hell that's so hot" He grunted, biting your cheek while he pressed down on the bulge his cock was forming in your stomach. You moaned at the pressure, it was too much, but your hips couldn't stop moving along his own.
Primal and animalistic lust took over your brain as your hands tangled in his hairs to guide his mouth to yours, sharing open mouthed kisses "deeper" You moaned into his mouth and he cursed, his nails digging into the hot flesh of your thighs, grinding deeper into you, if that was even possible.
Temperature was rising, hot bodies moving in a passionate rhythm, sweat dripping down between your slick groins, heightening the feeling of sex and pleasure, his saliva dripping down into your mouth, while he licked around into you, trying to tongue fuck your throat .
"Shit-shit baby gonna cum, your cunt is milking me baby fucking hell" He panted, his forehead pressed on yours, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as his thrusts became sloppy.
"t-take it all, take all my fucking cum gonna cum so much for u" He moaned, biting his lower lip and cumming deep inside your womb, you chanted his name at feeling your orgasm wash over you with how full his thick cream made you feel.
"Oh fuck yeah" he groaned still moving inside of you, thrusting lazily, making sure his cum stayed inside. At this point you weren't sure if your birth control pills were gonna hold up against him.
Before you could recover he was flipping your body around "sunghoon wha-"
"Shhh" he pressed your face into the pillows, cutting your ability to speak. His free hand hoisted your hips up and he panted like a dog near your ear, guiding his cockhead and pressing it against your swollen abused pussy, his chest pressed against your back, ready to fuck u again.
"Let's do it doggy, then wanna fuck your ass too baby, wanna put my dick in every fucking hole" He groaned breaching your entrance in a single strong thrust, your scream was muffled by the pillow, his hold tightening on you
"Fuck yeahmmmh, happy fucking birthday to me fuck"
#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard headcanons#enhypen smut#enhypen#enhypen hard hours#enha#park sunghoon#sunghoon smut#sunghoon#sunghoon x you
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