#bc everyone seems to have lost their head
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Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash
Chapter Five
Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.
Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader
Warnings: Mentions of child abuse (no description), throw up (bc i need that warning lmao)
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Series Masterlist
Bahrain. The season opener. And she had no idea. After her call with Logan she’d stayed away from all things racing. She’d have given anything to be driving the number fifty three car around that track and couldn’t face the fact that she wasn’t.
Max had tried to call her, but she ignored it. She was having far too much fun with Rooster and his friends to speak to her brother.
She’d never had a beach day like this. It was the sort of environment she’d never been in before, where everyone was just friends. They weren’t insanely competitive (at least, not in the way she and the people she’d grown up with were), and there wasn’t the feeling of dread that one of your friends could have your career ripped away from you and placed into their own hands at any moment.
No, the beach day with the Dagger Squad was actually fun. She hadn’t packed for her trip across the United States with the beach in mind, but Natasha had been kind enough to let her borrow something to wear. As the day got hotter she wore her old team hat, complete with her driver number. There wasn’t anything much more embarrassing than that.
If the Squad thought anything of it, they kept their opinions to themselves. No, she genuinely had fun.
Days like this with Jos Verstappen as your father were few and far between. Any spare moment growing up was spent racing or training. Even as the golden child, Max didn't get any reprieve. But Jos seemed to hate her more than anything.
(Maybe it was because he was stuck with her. She'd been taken from her mother who was deemed unfit to parent and left in his care. How he was considered good enough to look after two children, she'd never know).
(She and her mother had reconnected just before her first season, but they'd never gotten close).
When the Squad started a game of football, she'd shaken her head, insisting that she was happy watching. Besides, she didn't know how to play American football, her only experience was having footballs thrown at her before the race in Miami.
But they insisted. Bradley had taken her hands and pulled her to her feet, but she was quick to sit back down. And, when that happened, he threw her over his shoulder. She shrieked and pounded her fists against his back, but her uncontrollable laughter gave everything away.
He put her down between Bob, Nat, and Mickey. "You okay?" He asked, searching her face for any sign of discomfort.
But she was grinning ear to ear as she said, "Yeah, Roos. I'm okay."
He joined Jake, Javy and Rueben across from them, and the game began.
As it turns out, navy pilots are incredibly competitive. But that was good. Because she was, too. But they weren't competitive in the way that she was. It wasn't treated like life or death with them, not like it was growing up trying to get into racing. They wanted to beat each other but just because it was fun.
Not because they were afraid of what their dad would do if they lost.
To the Squad, the way she avoided the ball was hilarious. But then the ball landed in her hands. With wide eyes, she turned towards Bob. "What do I do?" She asked in a panic.
Bradley, Jake, Javy and Rueben were all racing towards her. This was maybe the most terrifying moment of her life (psych, it wasn't even close).
"Run!" Bob cried. So she did just that.
She tucked the football beneath her arm and ran. As it turns out, she was only fast on the racetrack. She didn't get very far, not before Bradley wrapped his strong arms around her middle and lifted her off the ground.
"Bradley!" She shrieked and tried to throw the ball to Nat.
The game was forgotten to the two of them as the others continued playing. "Not bad," he mused as she turned in his arms. That smirk played on his lips, the tantalising one that had drawn her in in the first place. "Are you sure your only sport is driving?"
"Racing," she corrected as she pushed at his chest. But she didn't put much effort into it, not quite ready to leave his arms. "Well, if my career doesn't get back on track, I'm sure I could try out for the New York Dolphins."
A groan left his lips and his head fell forward. "You're killing me here, baby," he mumbled and pressed his lips against her own.
A few beers later, as the sun set on a perfect day, Bradley led her back to the Bronco. "Can I drive?" She asked a sober Bradley, wearing a smile that was all too convincing.
"Three beers and you think you're ready for the Bronco? Someone needs to learn to handle their drink," he said, voice teasing as he pulled her around to the passenger side. Bradley kept a hold of her hand as she climbed in. As soon as she was sat, she swivelled in her seat to face him and pulled his aviators from his face.
He didn't look at her with annoyance, as she had been expected as she put the sunglasses on. No, the expression he wore was full of fondness. "You had a good day, kid?"
The nickname was affectionate, fort he times he was feeling soft with her. It was his favourite of the bunch, the one that had a dopey smile crossing her face. "Yeah," she said, leaning to the side and letting her head fall against the seat. "I like your friends."
He pushed her legs around so that she was facing forwards. "They like you too," he said, gently pulling the aviators from her face and placing them back on his own.
He climbed into the other side of the Bronco and began driving. As soon as they were on the road, heading back to his, she took the hand closest to her and put it on her thigh, a satisfied hum leaving her lips. "There," she mumbled, placing her hand on top of his own.
"You okay?" He asked again, and she nodded. He'd never seen her so quiet before. It was a new side of her, one he didn't exactly mind. But, then again, he so far loved all sides of her. "Jake said they're gonna keep the party going in The Hard Deck. D'you wanna join them?"
Again, she nodded. "Okay, kid," he said softly as he pulled into the driveway. "Let's get some food in you, first."
It was a pleasant evening with Bradley before they headed out to The Hard Deck. But, then again, most evenings with Bradley were pleasant. She showered and got changed while he stood in the kitchen, making her something to eat, dressed in nothing but his beach shorts.
it was a quick turn around, her getting showered and changed. As soon as she was dressed she silently padded into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around him. The smell of the sea air lingered on his skin. Heaven.
It was a simple dinner, but Bradley made the portions larger than she thought possible. She couldn't finish it all, and that was okay. After he'd eaten, Bradley jumped in the shower and got dressed into one of his signature Hawaiian shirts.
"Feeling slightly more sober?" He had asked as he pulled her up from the couch. She nodded but Bradley shook his head. "Words, baby."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Roo. I promise you I'm feeling a lot more sober." She muttered something in a language he didn't understand, something that had her giggling. At her giggles, Bradley pinched her sides. But he took her hand and led her out to the Bronco.
Her first reminder of the opening race that she was missing came the moment they walked into The Hard Deck. She spotted four screens, one on every wall. It had to be some sort of joke.
"No way," said Bradley, pointing at the first screen he saw.
She said nothing as she sat at the bar and ordered a drink. She kept her eyes on the wood of the counter top as Bradley sat beside her. The rest of the Dagger Squad were gathered around the pool table, but she couldn't face them in that moment. She couldn't face anyone.
"Which one is your brother?" Bradley asked.
Penny placed her drink down in front of her and she finished it in one go. It wasn't glamorous. She slammed the glass down onto the counter top with enough force to break it. It was a miracle it didn't shatter. "The one in front," she spat, and he turned his attention back to the television.
It was a little jarring, hearing the commentary of David Croft in a place so far removed from racing. It went a shudder down her spine as she ordered another drink.
She didn't have much else after that. It didn't feel right to be ordering gin and tonics when she knew that was how her brother would be celebrating his win.
The naval officers in the bar threw questions her way, but they didn't seem to register just how much harm that was doing. This was fine, she tried to tell herself. It could be a whole lot worse.
Every time the number three car was mentioned, she couldn't help the anger she felt. That was the fucker that took her seat. And he wasn't even performing well. That had to be the biggest piss take of them all.
As hard as the Squad tried to get her to join them, she refused. Bradley joined them for a little bit, not before making sure she was okay. She stayed sitting at the bar, her only company Captain Pete Mitchell. And what company he was. He had asked more questions than anybody else and he wasn't shy about it.
They were maybe the slowest fifty seven laps of her life. But she was coping. Bradley joined her again, a welcome distraction from the race. If anybody could tell she was bothered, it was him. So, he spoke about anything but the race.
But then she looked up at the screen. For the first time since they'd arrived at The Hard Deck, for the first time since lights out, she looked up at one of the screens on the wall.
Her father had been a haunting presence ever since the start of her karting career. Well, he was the whole reason she had a career in the first place. Because of him, she knew nothing but racing. She had no life skills, barely had the ability to take care of herself because of him.
But that wasn't why she threw up on the floor of The Hard Deck. When you grow up the way she did, repressing memories becomes second nature when you see that person every day. But she hadn't seen Jos in months, not since the summer break in August.
It had been seven months since she'd last seen her father. All the memories, all the shit she'd suffered at his hands as a child, came back in one exhausting go.
That was why she threw up on the floor of The Hard Deck. "Shit," she whispered as she wiped at her mouth. She must have looked like a drunk idiot. "I'm so sorry, Penny, I..."
But what excuse did she have for this? "Fuck," Bradley whispered as he pulled her to stand straight. She'd expected to see sympathy on his face, but sympathy wasn't what she found.
Penny shook her head as she grabbed the mop and bucket from behind the bar. "It's okay," she said and turned her attention to Bradley. "Just make sure she gets home okay."
He said nothing as he took her out to the Bronco.
a/n: this might be my favourite chapter so far, i've got so much planned for these two (and if you've had to listen to my roo and [redacted] brainrot im sorry)
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I am almost at the end of the Head Hunter Arc and there are a hundred story threads all running parallel so I would def have to re-read once again to fit in the sequence of events. Anyway, I will make a longer post about all my thoughts later,, but now I really really wanna get this off my chest.
warning: rant underneath, please check the tags for the subject of rant, proceed with caution—don’t come @ me if this is your favorite character
Reim died—and I did not feel a single thing. In fact, I am more frustrated he died just like that than his oh-dear-poor-guy plight being shown to me. Am I supposed to feel sorry for him? I just can’t.
He is the worst kind of character—the ones who always want to maintain the status quo, the ones who think they can get away with anything because they are on the side of self-proclaimed ‘Good’, and whatever they do is ‘needed for the greater good’.
This guy single handedly, with one bullet, ruined whatever positive interactions might have occurred between the Baskervilles and the heroes (Break at least? Because Vincent, who is already working with the Baskervilles, is on... idk what side?)
I still maintain the Baskervilles were pulled into some major political conspiracy and they were forced to kill all those people in Sablier in order to ‘save’ them from getting turned into chains.
[The more the author shows me their flashbacks and how happy they were as a family—
look at them, they are the literal essence of found family ;-;—
shedding happy tears rn ;-; Fang, Doug and Lottie were best Dads/Big bro/Mom/Big Sis to Lily.
—the more I feel like they were never sadistic cold-blooded mass murderers in the first place.]
See, Break and Lottie were making baby steps towards coming to work together for a common cause. On their next meeting, when Break put his sword to Lottie’s throat, she, whether fearing his power and deciding to buy time or what, did make an attempt to understand him rather than trying to jump in for a fight at once.
And then, when the ‘false’ Baskervilles came onto the scene, they were forced to make an unwilling alliance to defeat them albeit for a moment.
I had hoped—one more meeting and then maybe, hopefully, at least, these two would put aside their differences and misunderstandings and start working together to exchange information and unravel all the mystery of the Tragedy; in the process, the heroes start to slowly realize the true nature of the Baskervilles.
But no. Reim just had to ruin everything. He heard Lily’s story, came to the realization that Baskervilles weren’t monsters but ‘laughed just like us’, and decided... ok this child is innocent but she will definitely kill many more people in the future so let me shoot her right through her head now and finish her off.
I had been reading with a smile on my face because their interactions were so cute, the way she tried to console him and relate to him, the way she squealed on seeing the March Hare (March Hare really is cute btw)—and then, bam! I was more shocked when he ‘killed’ her than when Fang announced Reim was dead.
I can’t put this in a better way either so here we go—Reim is an idiot.
Here is a child that spills out everything unprompted if you simply humor her for a bit. She is a literal goldmine of information about the elusive Baskervilles. All you have to do is pretend-play with her that you are her ‘friend’ and she will tell you all tidbits from her life. All ‘truths’ because she has no reason to lie to a friend. “Family is good of course, but friends are good too.” She trusts her family, she trusts her friends.
Instead, what Reim does is go for the kill.
Without even understanding the basic nature of Baskervilles.
He didn’t know or even bother to find out Baskervilles could heal before playing his trump card.
Is he not Rufus Barma’s apprentice? Did he not learn a thing from the tenacious information broker, who deals with even life-and-death matters using information?
Has he never heard of the saying—half knowledge is a dangerous thing? Does he not know of buying time? Never heard of humoring someone? If she wants to see your chain, show her that, play with her till you manage to pass information to your friends and then when Break or someone strong enough to handle her hellhound arrives on scene, capture her alive, gdi! (I remember that scene from Dark Era when Dazai got frustrated that Akutagawa killed off half a dozen hopeful sources of information. Now, I understand his frustration.)
In fact, he did not even wait to hear her full story, asked a question or two, came to the conclusion that they are gonna reenact the Tragedy of Sablier—(after listening to a gullible child, btw. She is ofc gonna listen to her elders. If they say yes, then yes; if they say no, then no. How in the world do you make such a major decision after listening to the words of a child? And once again, I am not so sure if the Baskervilles indeed enacted the First Tragedy of Sablier in the first place. He is jumping to conclusions there too.)
—and shoots her through her head. Whether she died or not doesn’t matter here. She survived because of her super healing power. What matters here is that yes, Reim did have full killing intention when he shot her. Had she been a normal human, she’d have died. It was her brains that he intended to blow out. No way she was gonna survive that if she were a human.
He is the one that betrayed her budding trust. Sorry but I have no sympathy for him. If she used her chain to rip his throat, that’s on him. He shot the first bullet. Whatever she does afterwards counts as self-defense for me.
Well, here comes another idiot, Break, who doesn’t know any of this. Without even finding out what transpired there, he directly jumped in to fight against two self-healing Baskervilles all by himself, spitting blood, lost eyesight, can’t-last-too-long-in-a-battle and all as he is, in order to ‘avenge’ his friend.
Lottie, please come and talk all of this out—is what I wanted to say, because she seems the only one with brain cells among this bunch of idiots.
see, I can even draw up the parallels between the Break-Lottie 'friendship' and Reim-Lily 'friendship'.
When Break offered her to be his ‘friend’ (Break being a way more powerful opponent compared to Lottie, she was completely overpowered and at his mercy), she got through alright. Even on their second meeting when Break wanted to ‘shred her to pieces’ for killing Reim (which she probs has no idea of. It’s Lily who found him.), she managed to buy time if only with the appearance of the ‘fake’ Baskervilles and later escape.
Whereas when Lily, a child with a bit stronger chain than Reim’s (or so he says, for idk what his chain does) asked Reim to be her ‘friend’, he goes for the kill. oh no, poor guy doesn’t know how to buy time with a talkative, gullible child who has long given up on wanting to kill him and wanted to simply chat with him *sigh*
Same situation, different brains, different outcomes.
But because of that one stupid brain, all is gone to waste. No way an alliance between Break and the Baskervilles is gonna take place after this. I mean, I don't know if he meant it when he said this--
what are the many things he wanted to tell her please i wanna know i am dying for more interactions between them please
But it is too late now. It has turned into a kill-or-be-killed situation.
As of the present, it is Break vs Fang and Lily; and istg if something happens to any one of them, I will personally kill Reim. all over, once again. painfully.
I love all the three and I can’t see even one of them die over an idiot who caused his own death because he is an idiot.
#may-reads-ph#retrace li#reim-lunettes-critical#i don't think i will change my mind about this situation so it will be pointless to justify reim's actions to me#head hunter arc#this arc is giving me 50 shades of frustrations#this arc should be renamed head loser arc#bc everyone seems to have lost their head#running about like headless chickens and jumping to conclusions right and left#vanessa thinks it is leo break thinks it is elliot#evidence: buT hE Was THe OnLY oNE oN tHe SCeNe
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chapter xlvii
#kr saber lb#kr lb#umbrella.thoughts#umbrella.posts#the way kento was taking care of the store for touma...#the way he ran so fast to hug him when he returned#the way he was all smiles as soon as touma reached him#but of course he has to be wearing those pants just can't let them go can they#i think storious was wrapped up well i mean he saw them create a new story which was what he needed to get clarity#every megid death ended with them seeing what they wanted before passing on#once they pass on they seem to lose the immense anger they had so it seems that they were all distorted by the books power and they're#really a bit more level-headed now#i like that we get to see storious recall sharing his work with people and that it had meant something to him to though i still feel#he got buried in his despair and lost sight of how stories affect others and his relationships with others and not just him personally#it may have been a little fast but i've seen a lot of final villains and i really like storious' story#also just love everyone i don't think there was any character i really disliked throughout#with reika she made me mad but she was supposed to and she came around although it took a bit#i like her and i like how committed she is to her duty and i love her fight scenes#daishinji ryo and sophia felt like elders so i don't mind them not developing too much bc they feel like they have already grown into#the people that they are meant to be although they do develop a bit more here and there#yuri felt more like a guide for touma and i think he fit his role well while also evolving past his outdated ideas of what a swordsman is#ryoga was not developed too much but with the elders he felt like he knew who he was but for him there was development more in his#willingness to listen and work with others while also dealing with the issues of the guild and looking out for reika#he may not be very open but he has his own strong convictions and he is slowly starting to open up but just starting#rintaro and mei had a lot of good development though i do feel rintaro's stuff came across a bit much at times but in the end he became#a character who chooses to believe in himself and not run away while also protecting those around him when he used to stick to the rules#completely though he still does follow rules he does more of what is right than what is allowed#mei was an observer most of the time although she was also entrusted with tools that were important for the storyline such as the book#i love characters who don't transform and offer support when needed#mei was always expressing belief in the swordsman and offered a lot of help to them
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man. man. i'd feel bad venting to anybody and i dont even have words for everything im feeling but GOD DAMN i feel like ass
#this isnt a promt for anybody to be like 'you can vent to me!' btw#i genuinely dont want to talk. i know i should but. i just cant do it man.#im really just posting this to get it off my chest#but FUCK FUCK FUCKING AAAUAGGGHGHH I HATE BEING DISABLED#i know im not stupid or wothless or a burden but FUCK DAMN SHIT it feels like it#and testosterone makes me want to hit and throw and break things but obviously i cant do that#i keep thinking that i make everyone around me miserable and i know thats not true#but everyone seems to be going through it and i cant shake the thought and FUCK#i lost $400 and im gonna have to pay all that back AND pay a $500 medical bill AND still pay all of rent#but hey! at least i cant pay for food bc my debit card was in the wallet i lost so that money is literally locked in my account 🫠#so that wont get spent! hhhh#and if i get my wallet back tomorrow im going to feel lucky and stupid for feeling this way now#but theres fucking nothing i can do!! and its not like i can help but feel this way!!!!#but god. it feels like I'll be an unhelpable depressed idiot forever. i hate feeling stuck so much.#milo.txt#vent tw#fuck me *running* man. god damn.#i know people love me i know they'd miss me if i were gone i know we mutually deeply care about each other i know i know i know#but come the fuck on milo get it in your head
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man did i have a stressful day yesterday with washing machines and the dryer acting up, having soo much to do, it raining like heck alllll day, having to go and print plane tickets, it being an early cats show and wanting boba before leaving and somehow. through sheer luck and despite technically leaving way too late i arrived at the boba shop half an hour before the show and could comfortably have a drink. miracles do happen
#personal Davy#okay cats cats cats and i have to start with this bc i absolutely can't stop thinking about it it's just soo funny and fit the situation#so. munk's tail got ripped off. during the macavity fight. from the mac back jump. and not in a the tail came loose way. no. Ripped#when he was on the floor there was just a little stub left and the tail was on the floor. mungo found it and poked at it curiously then took#it and started laughing. while munk was curled up. tailless. not even sure he noticed but ah. he lost his tail in the fight!!!!!!!!!!#several ppl whispered to him during the dark bit and he got up and got a new one at the next best opportunity but he Also seems to have#found it hilarious b/c he kept talking and motioning to his tail it was. hilarious. fitting. cute af. i owe u my lfye mr snova sir please#also bc. he was so affectionate with tugger. with everyone but like during his song he wasn't annoyed at all like literally all other munks#i've seen he just i would even say fondly watched and danced with him when he was close and was just vibing? mr snova.. mr... mr snovaaaa...#but from the get go they were so soft with each other. during the pyramid tugger caressed munk's head when he hissed hi and held his hand#back when tugger covered his during old deut and randomly reached back for him when he stood behind him during the ball and uhm.#while tugger and bomba fcked he stood next to them and watched. smiling. and whenthey were done he lovingly pushed tugger's hair from his#sweaty forehead while tugger was still half lying on the tire Spent. i was.... speechless even in my brain#and during the mating dance tugger put his leg over deme and munk put his arm around both of them holding tugger by the waist just hhhhhhhh#and while it isn't unusual for tugger to put his and on munk's inner thigh during skimble it Is unusual for munk to do it back which he Did#yes other character tidbits happened too but that's between me and me and it was probably the last snova munk so why not focus on him here#i do have an undefeatable munk preferences for munk by himself but snova as both munk and tugger loves saying Ur Valid which is nice
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▸ A SOUVENIR FOR THE MORNING - GOJO SATORU. - forbes gojo!au
synopsis: you’ve avoided him for the last eight years, only for him to pop back into your life, leaving you with no room to run away as he asks you to kiss him. catch is, he now has a golden ring on his promise finger.
content: 9.2k words (idk how this happened, and it's unedited bc it's too long to go through) afab!reader, she/her pronouns, cursing, explicit smut, light angst, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, and anxiety triggers (picking at nails), pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, angel, good girl). minors do not interact.
The room is packed with people when you walk in. It was hard to recall some faces from the mirage of dimmed lights making you feel mildly dizzy and it didn’t help how the buzzing in your head from the smell of champagne and the loud chatter from the already drunk almost thirty-year-olds that can’t seem to contain their liquor-like novices, made you want to go home increasingly more.
“It’s only 9:41, and they’re drinking like they’ve never tasted alcohol before,” you heard Shoko mumble as she searched through her purse to reach for her perfume, “you want some?” Your best friend offered with a smile as she looked at you through the bathroom mirror.
“I’m okay,” you smiled back, “can’t have all the boys following me around with that,” you teased.
Shaking her head in disapproval, “If you see me go home with any of these drunks, I give you full permission to hit me, no, in fact, I’ll pull up to your apartment every morning with coffee and take you to work for a week if I do,” Shoko shuddered while furrowing her brows only to quickly soften the moment she saw you lightly picking at your thumb – an anxious habit you’ve picked up throughout the years, only but the keenest of eyes being able to notice your anxiety.
“You okay love?” Her voice was sweet as she leaned against the restroom sink.
“Mhm, of course,” you faked a smile, “I guess I’m just a little nervous seeing everyone, you know,” lightly chuckling as you bit your lips. Little was underlying, when the knot in your stomach was building up, making you force down the urge to entirely vomit in the moment.
“People are thrilled to see you again,” placing her hand on your shoulder, “it’s literally been years for you,” she huffed, pouting as she reminisced over the years she attended alone.
“well ‘m sure one will be sure thrilled —” her voice suddenly drained from a crowd of people entering the restroom, slightly pushing you towards her, “nevermind come on, let’s go get something to drink,” Shoko muttered as she led you out, gently massaging your tense neck as she encouraged, bringing her lips to your ears, “if anyone bites, I’ll chop their dick off,” Shoko threatened with a flashing smile as she led you to a nearby table.
It’s only 9:41 — no, 9:42.
College reunions, who looks forward to that?
There was no particular reason for you to be anxious, it’s been years since. You’ve prepared yourself for this, meditating every single day since you got the notification in your email on a Tuesday evening — an invite to rsvp for a room at the Aman Hotel.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been so nerve-wracking if you’ve been consistently going out to these every year since they’ve held one. But every year there seems to be a conflict in the schedule that forbade you to go.
One year it was your boss last-minute asking your team to work overtime, when a rookie employee lost all the data when he supposedly fell asleep, accidentally losing months of all your blood, sweat, and tears to make it for the deadline on your next advertising project.
Poor kid was fired the next day.
The following year, you were determined to go, going as far as walking to the restaurant, when the sudden nausea of socializing plagued your mind. The joyous welcomings and celebrations annoyingly muffled in your ear as you groaned past a familiar voice that seemed to call out your name from a distance. Your feet walking on their own volition through your sleep deprivation. Only to wake up in your bed with countless text messages from your best friend asking what the hell happened.
No wonder it was so fucking loud that night.
Another was simple, not your fault this time. Shoko couldn’t make it because of her rounds at the hospital.
Never in hell were you going to show up alone.
And the last one, well your taxi got a sudden flat tire. That in itself was a confirmation for you not to go, nor did you have any dying wish to go. Quickly texting your best friend, huffing out a sigh of relief as you pressed send.
<< sorry… can’t make it tonight. I promise, next year!!
Today, well things seemed to have aligned. No overtime, no flat tires, no sleep deprivation, no nothing.
Maybe it was an excuse?
Maybe you were subconsciously avoiding it?
But ironic is it, that life seems to protect you when most fragile, only to push you out into the void when least expected making you feel even more vulnerable, feeling so exposed in such a cruel world.
Or maybe the universe was waiting for this moment, that despite your consensus or approval, it was determined that you were ready to confront it — well it, being the owner of a pair of brilliant light blue eyes that sparkled like an aqua jewel, shining brighter than when you’ve last seen them clouded in tears as you let go of his trembling hand for the last time, crushing his pure heart as you left him with, “i’m sorry.”
Was that already eight years ago?
But whether it was the consequence of your selfish choice or a blessing of choosing to be selfless, luck was on your side today…
… well, you hoped at least somewhat on your side.
“My … look who it is,” you heard a voice from behind you.
Turning around, though the shame of suddenly cutting him off enticed your heart as you faced him, you couldn’t help but smile at his familiar face walking over with two drinks in his hand.
Holding the same gentle eye smile, with a lock of his black hair falling down on his left side, donned in a white dress shirt with his sleeves cuffed at the elbows, no tie but buttons loosely opened with a pair of dark slacks and shined dress shoes. Geto Suguru walked over.
“Aren’t you still handsome,” you complimented with a sweet smile.
“Don’t feed into his ego like that,” Shoko chimed as she nudged your arm, “his head is already big enough.”
“Who me?” Exaggerating his response, only to soon level down to the same amiable smile, calm cadence you’ve remembered him to have as he offered you a drink, “I have to take all the compliment I can get, don’t know when you’ll go awol and go missing for another eight years.”
“Funny…” you muttered, rolling your eyes while taking the drink by the stem, “and thank you, Suguru.”
“Where’s mine?” Shoko jabbed while shooting a glare at his nonchalance.
“Not here,” Geto flashed a smile, innocently shrugging.
“Whatever, I’ll get my own,” shaking her head in disapproval, grumbling while making her way to get a drink, but still making a point to stop in front of the man to warn, “Don’t say anything weird Suguru, I barely got her to come today.”
“Relax, ‘m just trying to catch up with an old friend,” Geto countered, making a point to whisper while smiling at you.
“I won't hurt her, that I promise,” Geto affirmed.
Your best friend walked off only to turn around for a brief moment as she worriedly looked back at you “Text me for anything okay?”
“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry,” you reassured.
“And don’t forget what I said, I’ll even cut his,” deadpanning while looking at your male counterpart, “I got no problem doing it, I’m medically certified anyways, there’s nothing that a sharp scalpel can’t fix, ” Shoko stated with an innocent smile while walking off.
“So,” releasing a sigh as he pushed the strains of his hair back, “how’ve you been?” Geto smiled.
“I’ve been… okay,” you confessed while placing your lips against your glass before taking a sip, “could be better.”
“Thought you were living your life,” Geto teased, his voice laced with sarcasm, “Shoko wouldn’t tell us much about you.”
“I… I told her not to,” you confessed while leaning against your table, the pain of your heels starting to ache up your back.
“How come? Weren’t we your friends too?”
“I just didn’t think it was best to keep myself in the circle when I —” biting the inside of your mouth to stuff the suffocating knot forming underneath your lungs.
“ — When you broke up with him?” Geto finished your hesitation.
Nodding yes, you softly whispered, “I thought it was for the best for him.”
“For the best huh?” Geto chuckled, “well I guess you didn’t know him too well then.”
“What do you mean?” Your brows furrowed as your mouth started to feel dry, “I did it because we weren’t compatible, I would’ve been a stumbling block for him,” you stammered as your voice started to shake, “I- I would’ve halted his growth, and he would’ve hated me in the end if I selfishly held onto him when he was worth so much more than being with me,” you confessed with lips quivering as a tear fell, only to quickly brush it away before Suguru could notice.
But nothing passes with him, he reads right through you. His voice softened, “Was this your insecurity you’ve decided for him or — ” turning his body to face you while his body leaned on his arm against the standing table, “Was this something he actually would’ve struggled with?”
“I can’t change the past Suguru.” You shamefully avoided his gaze, “I still stand by my decision.”
“I don’t doubt that,” shrugging as he exhaled, “I mean, you did avoid him for almost a decade.”
“H-he seems happy,” you let your thoughts slip.
“You think so?”
“Shoko would tell me about everyone, you, him” you unnoticingly spewed out your thoughts. “Of course not in full detail, but that you’ve established your own studio, and that you’ve finally released those photos.”
“Mhm, that’s correct, would’ve loved to have invited you to the exhibition, it was quite… a moment,” he chuckled while playing with his fingers.
“That Megumi’s in high school and that he’s gotten in trouble for beating up the school bullies,” lowly laughing as you remembered how cute yet scarily mature he was for his age.
“Nanami hates corporate life, but still listens to what he has to say even if it’s outrageous.” Taking a sip of your drink, the sparkle of the beverage mildly burning your throat, “... and that he’s traveling the world living his life.”
Mumbling under your breath, “he’s even recently gone to Paris and had a night picnic with —”
“You stalked him?” Geto teased as he huffed out a laugh when he caught your shocked expression
“No — I mean, Shoko would tell me,” you stammered.
“Sure, whatever you say, sweetheart," Geto teased, "but just to let you know, he just got back. And from what I know, they haven’t met since he arrived. His plane should’ve landed,” while dramatically looking at his watch, “I don’t know like an hour ago? He’s probably on his way over here,” Geto handsomely winked as he suddenly placed a gentle hold of your waist and brought you near his side.
“You know… he’ll look for you, now knowing that you’re here” Geto whispered into your ear.
“How does he know… I told Shoko to not tell —”
Blinking innocently at you with a smile, while playing with his phone, “can’t avoid the poor guy forever.”
“I’m not avoiding him,” you sighed knowing what Geto had done, “just didn’t have a chance to run into him.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” releasing you with a smile, “ if you’re really sure about where you stand, then don’t run away from him.”
Geto's eyes flash to the entrance doors for a split second and land back on you.
“But would you look at that,” humming as he pointed to his empty glass yet his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure. It was the first in a while that you felt your heart sinking, all the blood in your body rushing out, making you suddenly feel lifeless and queasy.
“Gonna get another glass, you want one?” Suguru suggested.
“I’m okay, but thank you Suguru,” you quickly stated as your heart started to beat faster by the second.
“Sure, just don’t be a stranger again,” Suguru teased as he started to walk off, but your hand immediately reached out to catch his arm to quickly reinforce, “I- I mean it… thank you.”
Knowing your implication, smiling as he received your thanks, “No need, as fucking cringe it is,” chuckling as he shook his head, looking over your shoulder and back at you, “he’s my best friend, of course, I’ll be there for him.”
Letting go of his arm, your hands anxiously balled into a fist as you quickly turned around to avoid him, doing anything to hide from his sight. You felt your breaths becoming increasingly more difficult to inhale, and stagnant as your palms started to sweat.
“I’m not avoiding him… I’m not avoiding him” you quietly mumbled to yourself, your words contradicting your actions as you walked further away onto the balcony, texting Shoko,
<< I’ll be outside getting some fresh air (: let me know when you want to leave.
Closing your phone, as you let the night breeze wash against your face, leaving light chills around your body, you nervously sighed, “It’s been eight years you say…”
—
Your story was nothing short of the typical — difference in class and status, trying to make things work just for the convenience of love. It wasn’t hard at first to situate yourself into his life, nor was it any difficult for him to become accustomed to yours.
They say time will change things, circumstances will get better. Be patient with your season, and you’ll be rewarded for your hardwork.
But somethings never change no matter how hard you try to alter the dice. He’s rich and you’re just average.
Money works for him, while you had to take on multiple jobs just to make your next rent at the start of your career.
He was bound for greatness at a young age, trained by the best professionals and tutored by an exquisite league of mentors. While you had to settle for things, simply dreaming of the what can be. Thus, you worked even harder. You pushed yourself to keep up, to become of the level of who he’s supposed to be, and what he could accomplish.
When he dozed off in class, you stayed up. You studied, pulled all-nighters, chugged caffeine, and oftentimes had to push back dates with him for simple study sessions — he didn’t complain, said he liked to just sleep with his head rested on your lap while he cuddled into your stomach while you studied.
“Don’t mind me, I’ll be your personal radiator,” he would chime with a boyish grin on his face, taking off his sunglasses as he stretched his long legs before latching behind you like a koala, “wake me up when you’re done, I’ll drive you home,” Gojo peacefully murmured without forgetting to place a kiss to your shoulder, while you stressed over your next exam.
With him, even the coldest days always felt warm.
And on the next day, he’ll always take you to class with some soup and hot tea, murmuring about your poor dietary choices and how you often neglect your health to study. But at least he’ll be gentle, and wish you the best on your exam with a light kiss — an innocent kiss that lasts a bit too long, his hand always gracing your body as he reluctantly releases you, brushing off the saliva that linked your lips together — his good luck charm he’ll argue, a little tease of what he’ll reward you with later when you got home for being his good girl.
Gojo will always try to convince, “Life isn’t always about studying, baby,” stating with a pout, after your fifth time canceling a date he’s planned to instead go on a simple walk outside your flat, “you gotta live life to the fullest! And why stress when you’ve snatched me?”
“Well, I can’t live life to the fullest if I don’t study now, Satoru. And who’s gonna pay for all that ice cream you eat? All the sweets you stock up on?”
“What do you mean?” Deadpanning as he stopped in his tracks, “you have me, what more else do you need? I'm a double threat — I’m rich and handsome.”
“Satoru — I… never mind,” rolling your eyes, as you were hit with his puppy eyes.
“Just promise,” his tall frame blocking you, “that you’ll always stick with me.”
“I’m not a piece of gum to just stick onto you, Satoru,” pushing him away, only for him to reach out to delicately hold your hand, “You know, if you’re a gum, you’ll be the sweetest one.”
“Yea, why so?”
“Because every time I eat you, you taste so sweet,” he teased with a flirty wink, “if you get what I — ow!”
Rubbing his forearm that barely hurt, Gojo loved to exaggerate when he was with you.
For Gojo, things came easily for him, as if the universe highlighted his life as a thousand-year blessing, nothing was out of his reach — that is, nothing but you.
Shocking to many, he pursued you first. When asked about how you guys met, or what’s the story behind you two, or even if no soul asked… he’ll blabber on with an outrageous story, saying he fell in love the moment he laid his eyes on you, that you were the apple of his eye — an over the top fanfiction of you and him of how he just knew you were the person for him when you stumbled into the library, arms full of books and coffee in the other, and you magically just happened to just bump into him. And if it wasn’t for that encounter, then he would’ve never gotten your number.
And without your number, he wouldn’t have been able to woo you with his charm, he’ll always add with a wink.
“You can say it’s fate,” he’ll proclaim, “I never went to the library, you know,” as he munched on his icecream with Megumi and Tsumiki savoring theirs, both unbothered by the story he’s told them countless times, “and the one day I chose to follow Suguru because he was simping over someone, I get coffee spilled all over my clothes and meet her? Damn, the heavens just wanted us together.”
All you remember of that day was that your precious coffee went to waste, with your books embarrassingly spread out on the floor, and you were stuck having to dry clean his ridiculously expensive clothes.
But with him, you experienced all your firsts.
Your first handholding — Satoru confidently took your hand, immediately interlocking his fingers with yours, his palms engulfing yours entirely, “don’t be scared baby, I’m not scared,” flexing his muscles as he proudly smiled, “I’ll protect you!” as he leads you through the haunted mansion, jolting through every jump scare, absolutely refusing to scream.
You remember his palms felt particularly clammy that day.
Your first kiss — on a spring picnic as he laid on your lap, his eyes sparkling a little more than usual as he looked up at you, innocently asking, “can I kiss you?”
Your first argument. Ignoring him for a whole week, only for your resolve to quickly break when Suguru urgently called you to his house stating that Satoru was deathly ill — dark circles under his eyes, cheeks frail from not eating, wrapped up in his blanket as he dramatically announced his dying wishes while sneaking obvious glances at you.
Geto’s diagnosis: pure insanity.
To your first cuddle buddy, to innocent make-out sessions, to wonton looks and lustful touches for more. leading to your first sexual experience, both unknowing and inexperienced as he groaned into your ear in the back of his car one rainy night as you struggled to take his girth.
He was your first taste of goodness — like a forbidden fruit, you increasingly wanted him more. In soul, mind, and body, you etched yourself into him, making the tear even more painful to rip apart.
Sure, loving him was easy — but loving you, the version who was so lacking compared to him and insecure was hard.
You tried to ignore it, you did your best to brush off the insecurity that came with each day of choosing him. But having the message that you were worth less than he was being constantly blasted to your face — the blatant discrepancies between social classes and the nature of how you both grew up, to the constant side glances you’ll get wondering how someone so normal like you, got with such a high net worth — gradually, it all made you dissociate from him.
So you worked even harder. You stayed up longer than anyone else just to get that better grade. You worked that extra shift just to prove that you were capable. You doused yourself in knowledge, yet tried to stay humble to be seemingly perfect… but in that, you unknowingly pushed him further away, losing parts of yourself while at it.
And your final straw? It was a text message you accidentally read on his phone while he silently napped, cutely dozing off as you massaged his scalp.
From: Mom.
>> Remember the girl I talked to you about? Nitori-chan’s family requested that we set up a date for you two. The faster the better, no need for our families to meet, it’s all settled.
To: Minako.
<< Let’s meet. When are you free, Minako?
From: Minako.
>> Whenever! I can meet now!
>> Is this about our potential engagement?
To Minako.
<< Yea, let's meet tonight to talk about it.
You remembered, that night you couldn't reach him.
The final trigger that blew it over. The rambling of your thoughts paralyzes you from thinking rationally.
You didn’t need to search up who she was. Nitori Minako, the youngest daughter of Japan’s leading technology company that rivaled to that of America’s fruit. A girl that was a year younger than you — smart, adamantly cute, cunning and rich — always following him around a bit too closely for your liking, preaching about how “Gojo-san promised he’ll marry me when we were young! Isn’t that so cute?”
how long was this going on for?
Has he always been going on secret dates like this? Was he always just willing to let it slide when you rejected his dates because he had other options?
Was he leading you on this whole time before he’ll leave you for what he rightfully deserved?
Was all of this a lie? All of what he said?
The pinnacle of your sanity breaking as your thoughts became corrosive and brittle the more you dove deeper into the pitfalls of your insecurities — of course what people said was right, there was no way someone like him can settle for any less.
... Ultimately, everything led to you quietly blurting out as he rambled about his day.
Playing with your hand, smiling like a loser as he intertwined your smaller fingers with his, “Geez, there was this jeweler that I wanted to take you to, but dammit, the store closed early today. Maybe we can go — ”
“Let’s break up,” you suddenly announced, looking straight ahead.
The room suddenly felt quiet, so quiet that the thumping of your heart felt like loud sirens blaring next to your eardrum, and your body felt numb.
After a few seconds, Satoru stammered, “w-what?”
Sighing as you closed your eyes, “I said, let’s break up, we aren’t — ” you reiterated.
“I heard you the first time,” Gojo hissed, still playing with your fingers but his grip now harsher, “just wanted to make sure you weren’t bullshitting right now.”
“I’m not joking, Satoru,” your voice stripped of any emotion, “we aren’t good for eachother.”
“Says who?” the man challenged.
“It’s something that’s been on my mind,” you responded back while trying to pull back your hand, “l-let go, Satoru, it hurts…”
“Is it because of the text?” Gojo refused to let go, even more so gripping even harder, “Fuck... I'm sorry I should've explained earlier," his voice pleading for you to listen.
"I swear nothing happened, and nothing will ever happen, b-baby look at me,” your boyfriend’s — now, ex-boyfriend's — voice elevating and shaking.
“Gojo,” softly pausing after his name, “let’s end it when things aren’t so bad… I can’t have you hating me more when we have no other choice but to break up,” finally pushing his grip off, “it’s inevitable, we’ve been walking towards a destined finish line from the beginning, let’s just call it quits a little earlier.”
“no... you can't do this, you can't do this to me,” he vulnerably uttered, his body noticeably trembling as a tear dropped onto the back of your hand as he reached over to touch you, hoping it'll mend whatever hatred you had towards him, “you.. we promised,” his voice shaking.
“I’m sorry Gojo,” you dodged his grasp, “guess promises are only good if you can keep them, and I can’t.”
Days of him begging at the forefront of your door, crying as he asked for an explanation, his missed texts and calls that would go straight to voicemail, to Suguru stepping in to ask what the hell was going on… all leading you to cut off every aspect of Gojo Satoru out of your life, except Shoko.
After two years of dating, at the ripe age of 20, you experienced your first heartbreak with Gojo Satoru, marking the end of the final chapter of your love story with him.
To you, he’ll be the greatest warmth you’ll ever experience.
To him, you’ll be the heartless bitch that left him cold.
—-
“Hmm,” looking at your empty notifications, “guess she’s a little busy right now…” you hummed. Despite your outwardly calm demeanor and the stillness of the serene summer night, juxtaposed was your mind with wandering thoughts that wrecked havoc in your head.
Shoko would update you occasionally about him, not going too far into details. You knew he was successful in his craft, excelling in it as he ranked 11th in Forbes 30 under 30 list, losing the tenth spot barely to a Zenin. It would be a lie if you weren’t curious about him, your mind wandering and weak during the quietest of nights, making a burner account to stalk his socials, only to immediately regret the moment you see photos and stories that presumably show that he’s in a relationship — with a gorgeous one in fact.
You’ve briefly heard of his dating history, hearing it from Shoko directly, as it mindlessly slipped through her tongue as she complained that he’s broken up with another girl.
Throughout the years, you’ve concluded maybe this was your punishment for leaving him. Damnation to feel stuck in the same perpetual regret of hurting his heart, of choosing to look at your fears instead of maybe trusting in him.
But, at least he looked happy. and you clung onto that reserve.
Maybe it was for the best that things happened this way —
Your ears perked up as you heard the tapping of shoes coming towards you, your stomach suddenly dropping to the floor.
“Were you planning on avoiding me the whole night?”
You were sure, there was no denying that was his voice.
Yes, it was a bit deeper from when you last heard it. The decibel of his voice is now infused with power and confidence, yet still with the underlying tone of softness from what you remembered.
“Ah, sorry… how rude of me,” you mumbled, the pounding of your heart beating through your ribcage. You quickly placed an arm over your chest, a hand over your heart, doing anything to muffle the harsh pulsing, terrified that he was going to hear, “it’s been a while Gojo,” you offered him a light smile, “I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me Ieiri is waiting for me,” you tried excusing yourself only to be met with his stance unchanging, unmoving.
You felt his eyes pierce into your skull, “Gojo?… ah that’s right,” his voice guarded as he looked over in another direction, his face pointing specifically elsewhere, the moonlight highlighting his perfect features.
“I think she’s pretty busy, don’t you think?” he shrugged.
Dammit she was your ride home. Guess coffee is on her for the next week.
“Oh sorry,” you muttered under your breath.
Grinning as he licked his lips, “You’re awfully saying sorry a lot over nothing,” Gojo chuckled, “guess old habits die hard,” his last words spewed with a hint of bitterness as he clenched his jaws.
Only to relax seconds later, placing his drink on the railing, softly grunting as he pulled off his jacket, and placed it over your shoulders, “It’s cold, don’t want you getting sick now,” the smell of his cologne filled up your lungs, hypnotizing your senses — a bit strong but nonetheless intoxicating.
You couldn’t help but feel guilty for feeling a sense of security from the weight of his heated jacket, and in response, you started to immediately pick at your thumbs.
“It’s okay!” You tried to object, trying to take it off only to be met with a stern yet gentleness of his voice, his large hand stopping you, now calloused and thick yet the warmth of his palm brushing against your smaller one felt nostalgic and sinful, as your eyes immediately noticed a gold sparkle on his ring finger, “it’s fine. my body runs hot, remember?”
“T-thank you,” you muttered, the harsh beatings of your heart quickly making your cheeks feel hot.
A ring? you wondered.
“So, what made you come today?” Gojo huffed as he looked off into the distance.
“Had no excuse not to come.”
“I see,” his voice deep, taking the last swig of his drink, deeply inhaling to release a long breath, “It’s good to see you though.”
“Yea, me too,” you quietly responded, the awkwardness of the conversation eating at your bones, the tightness of your stomach knotting increasingly more.
Laughing as he turned around, his long legs crossed, showing a bit of his socks peeking out of his slacks as his dress shoes reflected the moon's shine. Surely, they were expensive, probably equaled to a month of your rent on his feet. With his arms crossing his chest, leaning against the railing, the quiet winds brushing against his soft hair, lightly masking his cerulean eyes as he faced you, “Liar, you were always good at that.”
Taking you off guard, your eyes immediately connecting with his, your breath stopping as if a sudden load was pushed onto your chest, you felt a wave of sadness rush over you as you ventured into his empty eyes.
Since when did he have that ring?
Did he find someone at Paris? Shoko told me — no, there’s no way he found someone so soon.
Or maybe he’s trying to settle down —
“Are you happy?” His question brought you back into reality.
“What?” you whispered.
“I don’t think I’ve asked a hard question,” he responded, his voice now harsh and impatient, “I asked if you were happy.”
Your finger pricks at your thumb, “I guess so…”
Rolling his tongue against his teeth, his finger playing with his ring.
Taking no regard for catering to your comfort, he jeered, “Why’d you do it?”
“What are you talking —” you stammered.
“You know damn well what I’m referring to,” Gojo spat.
“Excuse me,” You muttered, your eyes refusing to disconnect despite your whole body fighting against it.
“I- I got to go, Ieiri is waiting —”
“No, you already used that excuse,” pulling you in by your wrist, immediately caging you in between his arms, with you now leaning against the railing, your eyes level to his broad chest — has he always been this big?
“Answer me, at least you can have the courtesy of honestly telling me why you left me like that eight years ago.”
“I don't remember,” you stated with eyes threatening to spill.
“Liar,” his body leaning down, the hurt in eyes even more apparent than before, “you’re a fucking liar,” Gojo spewed with no resolve to withhold a solid tear from falling, his face now dangerously close — lips even more threatening to touch.
All you wanted to do was say sorry, to cup his face and kiss his tears, to say it was a mistake that you’ve never intended to let him go — you selfishly tortured him by continuously keeping him in your heart without giving him a chance to prove you wrong.
“I’m so sorry,” was all you could respond.
“Did you not trust me?” Hurt was apparent in his voice, “Was I that untrustworthy for you to just leave like that and just disappear for eight years?”
“No, no… it’s not like that,” you tried comforting, unknowingly placing your hands on his chest, “it was never like that.”
"then tell me why," he forced out through gritted teeth while furrowing his brows.
"I just thought it was for the best," you quietly whispered.
"you thought it would be for the best?" Gojo scoffed, "And how the hell did you come to a conclusion to just leave like that?"
" 'm sorry, Gojo... I - I truly am," you pleaded while clenching his shirt.
"You must've really enjoyed watching me beg huh," Gojo challenged, "absolutely thrived knowing this was all for my own good, right?" Gojo spat out his anger.
"It wasn't like that, i'm so sorry, I was hurting —"
“Stop fucking apologizing! you don't get to do that," His voice shattered the serene night. Chest heaving as he clenched onto the stone railing, "I didn’t go through shit these past eight years just to hear your selfish sorry's,” he stated with gritted teeth, as he threateningly moved even closer, “d-did you even love me?”
“Yes, of course!” You immediately cupped his face, finally letting go of the years you craved his touch, your heart shattering as you felt him melt into your wicked hands.
“Then kiss me,” he suddenly whispered, the slight scent of alcohol mixed in with cologne altering your judgment.
“Y-your drunk, Gojo,” you pleaded, immediately letting go of his face as you tried to push him off.
His voice elevated, "Why not?" Gojo growled, "Like you said, it's not like you left because you didn't love me. Or are you lying about that too?"
“don’t make this hard, we — I can’t do this with you anymore,” guilt running through your veins as the image of his ring blared loudly in your head.
You couldn’t do this to another girl, he wasn’t yours anymore…
“stop the bullshit,” Gojo growled before his lips slammed into yours, his large hands cupping your face, leaving you no room to run away. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, teeth painfully clashing yet you didn’t mind. because against your resolve, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to taste the sweetness of his saliva and feel the warmth of his tongue.
The groan of his voice vibrated against your lips, as his clothed hip bucked into your pelvis, his lips trailing down from yours to your neck, tongue sloppily trailing down with it as his hands wandered down to hold your hips.
“Tell me you missed me,” he moaned out as you gripped the ends of his hair, his tongue teasing down your sweet spots, pecking kisses as he inhaled your scent.
“Say you loved me, I don't care anymore if it’s a lie,” your ex now pleaded, his hot breath heating your cheeks.
“… I love you,” you confessed.
Lowly laughing like a maniac, staring deep into your wanting eyes, the man whispered back, “aren't you fucking heartless.”
...
You don’t recall how you made it into the hotel room. In a moment your lips crashed with his on the balcony, and only a second later you found yourself with his large hand securely wrapped around yours, silently waiting for the elevator to bing on the twentieth floor as your ex-boyfriend led you into his hotel room.
Now, currently, you’re pressed against the wall, shoes thrown aside groaning with your hands tangled in his soft hair, as he hurriedly stripped you out of your dress, lips hungrily moving against each other as he growled into the kiss.
Though its been years, his touch never faltered from remembering your body — immediately tracing over your sweet spots that he’s located in your early twenties, now with more experience and strength he dove deeper in.
“Fuck, missed these beauties,” he groaned as he cupped your breasts, his thumb playing with your hardened nipples as he quickly released the back strap of your bra, promptly latching his lips onto your swollen ones again right before you released a moan.
Your body had a mind of its own. Fallen into sin, your hands unbuttoned his shirt, quickly revealing his toned, muscular build as your hands ran against his pecs. You felt his stomach flex as you started to unbuckle his belt and zip down his pants, his lips hungrily chasing after yours as he caressed your body, hands slipping down further into your inner thigh, his index starting to play with your swollen clit — his fingers have always been so pretty, especially with his ring
“G-gojo stop!” Your eyes immediately shoot open.
“What,” annoyed, the man hissed, looking into your eyes with his pupils dilated, hair absolutely disheveled, until moments later his lips are impatiently back onto yours again.
“We.. we can’t,” you cried out as you melted in his touch, “y-your ring,” you gasped out, suffocating as he stripped you of oxygen.
“Ring?” he stopped for a brief moment, chuckling as he brought up his finger, “you worried about this?” he teased.
Intoxicated in his touch, you were willing to throw away your pride and dignity just for one night — one night can’t hurt, right? So you take the ounce of courage you had left, placing a tender kiss on his lips as a sign of surrender as you gently cupped his face, “take off your ring,” you whispered as you guilty looked away.
Chasing after your kiss, pushing you further into the room as you yelped at his force, your arms entangled around his neck and fingers around his hair as you tried to stabilize yourself, “I promise you it’s nothing, sweetheart,” he coaxed with his sharp canines flashing through his wickedly handsome smile.
And running his lips against your chest, leaving small denture marks on your skin that forced moans out of you, with his pants now pooled at his ankles before shimming them off, his cock fully erect, unapologetically twitching in his briefs.
“For you, I guess,” Gojo hummed as he watched the thin line of spit that connected you both dissipate away, existing as a sign of proof of the situationship he currently had with you.
Taking his ring off, he set it down near the bedside table, "there it's gone."
At least for this night, he was yours.
You’ll repent for your sins, and receive any punishment the gods had to give you tomorrow, but today, you chose him.
And right now, you also chose to kneel in between his thighs, hooking your finger under his waistband to pull his briefs off. Satoru immediately lifted his hips to help you while releasing a sultry groan as he felt the cold air elope his sensitive tip.
Was he always this thick? You remembered his cock being pretty, but also what the fuck were those two veins running down his shaft? And was he always this… groomed?
“Are you just gonna stare at it… or do I need to use your mouth to get some action?” Satoru impatiently asked with his cock twitching, his finger brushing against your heated cheeks as he palmed his member.
“It’s just been awhile,” you murmured, licking your lips before you opened your mouth to have him enter.
“Fuck, " Satoru shuddered as the base of your tongue brushed against his frenulum.
"i must be dreaming,” Gojo murmured under his breath, your head rising up as you released his cock with pop! With your hot tongue swirling against his head, there was no chance for Satoru to stay strong. and you enjoyed every second of seeing him slowly unravel in your power.
“j-just like that,” he ordered while placing his hand on top of your head, guiding your momentum.
His precum tasted salty but pleasant. Hell, he wasn’t even close to the other men you’ve been with, incomparable starting with the size of their dicks to his.
Hallowing your cheeks and expanding your throat to take in his shaft, with your hands gently playing with his balls, you felt his cock hit the back of your throat the moment you saw his head fling backwards, gasping as he pushed down his spit down his dry throat.
“You like that?” Gojo hissed as he bucked his hips into your warm crevice, “you missed my cock, angel?”
You honestly agreed, tears staining your vision with his length stuffed into your orifice, only to get a spiteful laugh in return, “well, guess that makes two of us,” he huffed while crowning over your body, pushing himself deeper into you, his stomach hitching as he groaned out your name.
“Fuck this shit,” he moaned, as he urgently pulled himself out of your mouth, sacrificing his impeding release for abstinence.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he gasped when your thumbs swirled around his pulsing head, “you always do,” he purred as he nibbled on your lower lip, promptly pulling you onto his lap, one hand straddling your waist while the other mounded your ass.
And looking up at you, with his blue eyes now darkened in full blown lust, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, “tell me what you want? I’ll give you anything.”
“Y-you,” you shamefully confessed, gasping as his cock grazed against your sensitive folds, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you started to grind against his length, “I want you inside me again, Satoru” you whispered into his ear, lightly moaning out his name.
“Shit,” Satoru croaked, pulling himself down as he gently released you to lay on the bed, “I dont have a condom,” he confessed as he gently kissed your cheeks, “ you gonna be okay without it?” he asked.
“Mhm, j-just hurry… please,” you murmured.
“Good girl, now come here,” he coaxed as he placed a soft pillow under your head.
Taking a brief moment to observe your face, reading any sign of forced emotion that you might try to hide, only to ease himself into the kiss when he feels you impatiently desiring his touch, “relax, baby,” he cooed as his kisses traveled southward.
Placing each delicate kiss on your body as his soft hair trailed behind, lightly tickling you as your thighs gently caged his waists into you, “you know they wanted me to thank you,” Gojo breathed out as he split your thighs open, settling himself in between your legs.
“W-who?” you whimpered as his calloused hands massaged your muscles, his soft lips easing out the tension boiling in your core while your hands immediately went straight to grip his hair.
Lips drawing closer, closer and closer until his breath knocked against the frame of your dripping cunt.
“God you’re so fucking wet,” blowing air onto your sensitive nerves, looking up to watch your body shiver at his power as he slid his finger down your folds, pushing in one finger, two, and eventually three into your tight hole as he watched you stretch, your viscous juice soon dripping down his forearm.
“They wanted me to thank you for how good I eat pussy now,” Gojo smirked before he took a swipe of his tongue against your womanhood, spreading out your cunt as he purposefully flicked his tongue against your clit, lightly sucking on the bud thereafter.
…
How many times as it been, you wondered? More than once or twice, maybe four… five — you moaned out when you felt your legs hitching up to his shoulders, his cock hitting just at the right spots he remembered from years ago.
“Angel,” Gojo huffed as sweat dripped down his temple, grunting as he felt your tight walls fluttering against his length at the call of his sweet pet name, “you have that much leisure to be thinking about something else when I’m fucking you?”
Kissing your ankles, his pelvis showing you no mercy as his wet skin slapped against your ass, the sound and sultry smell of hot sex filtrating your room, “still so fucking tight,” Satoru grunted as he pushed his body onto you, your legs hooking against his shoulders, his strong arms holding you from under.
“G-gojo!” you rasped out, barely audible and inable to breathe from his heavy weight and humidity of the room, “it’s too deep! Slow down!”
Growling into your ear, his teeth nibbling against your earlobe, his hot breath stinging your face as he scoffed at your choice to call him so mundanely.
“you gonna be so impersonable,” his thrust going deeper, harder into you, “when I’m so deepily inside you?”
“Ngh,” gasping, “it’s too much,” you sobbed with his face planted into your neck, and his ass clenching with every push he drove into your gushy walls that still wrapped so perfectly around his — just like how he’s last felt you around him, just like how he’s molded your insides just for himself.
“You let anyone else fuck you?” He suddenly hissed, panting as he tried to catch his breath, the sweat on his back making it difficult for you to hold onto him, “you let anyone else see this side of you?”
“It’s too much —” you pleaded, avoiding his question.
“Answer me,” he lowly ordered.
Unable to withstand his power, absolutely willing to fold for him and his desires, you fastidiously nodded, “only a couple,” you shyly confessed.
"how many," he growled, disappointed in your answer, "how many fucked this."
"o-one or two, ngh I-I don't remember," you panted.
“One or two, you say,” he cooed as he pulsed his cock swiftly into you in rhythmic motions, satisfied seeing his length disappear inside you. his pace driving you to the brink of insanity as your lower belly started to fire up again as he knowingly pressed his palm down on your stomach.
“Then I gotta fuck you twice more to force out all memory you have of those stupid fucks,” grunting as he cupped your face to look at him, lips swollen with his skin marked by your nails, hips unapologetically thrusting into you as he watched you unravel in his lead, “because this pussy’s always been mine.”
Seven.
He’s definitely made you cum seven times. you remembered the count just before he groaned out your name, his thrusts sloppy and strained, gasping as he pulled you tighter into his embrace, face caved into your neck as he finally released his thick loads into your abused walls, sobbing out cursed moans as you held him, expending out every last ounce of energy you had for him in mere four words,
“I’ve always loved you,” you whispered before completely passing out.
You failed to notice a tear fall from his eyes drop to your face. He hoped that it’ll stain you, wished it would reach all the way through to your heart to burn you. But he couldn't, so instead he carefully wiped it away as he gently kissed your face — inch by inch of your canvas before he chose to face you again.
“you’re so heartless,” Gojo chuckled as he pulled you in for a tight hug, straight into his chest as he laid beside you, refusing to pull out and have his cum spill onto the sheets — a feat he’s never dared to do with anyone else, he’s always fucked protected.
“what am I going to do with you," he breathed out.
"even with all this time, I’m still so weak for you,” he quietly confessed, reaching over to the side, reaching for his ring to put on the empty finger, before he too fell into the abyss of another dimension with you in his arms.
—-
Lowly groaning as you opened your eyes, your body felt oddly heavy and aching, but yet warm and safe despite feeling on the absolutely verge of possibly snapping in half and breaking with any force.
Blinking a couple times before you started to register the room, you felt a slight huff next to your ear and the tightening around your waist as your back leaned against something hard.
Gojo Satoru, in all of his glory, was sleeping so soundly next you.
Carefully turning around to face him, you observed his features as you ran your fingers against his skin.
His lashes were still so long and soft, you giggled when Gojo twitched his nose at your touch.
His cheeks were still so smooth, without a spec of a blemish, but you can see the little bags under his eyes and the small creases on his skin. he’s probably tired from traveling.
Your finger travels down to his chiseled jaw, and defined collar bones, examining the light scratch marks on his pale skin, and the bruising of his nipple — wait… his lips are chapped and swollen, and his cock… oh god, his cock was brushing against your stomach — hard and pulsing.
Immediately gasping, you felt the blood in your body drain at the revelation that you’ve fucked your ex — no, you fucked your ex of eight years, that you were still crazily hung up over that most likely had a girlfriend waiting for him to respond back to.
Before you could think, your adrenaline pressed forward to act before your mind, immediately unlocking his hands from your naked waists, standing up too quickly only to stumble from your trembling legs. You felt something drip down your thighs — white viscous slowly running down your legs, your face heating up at the memory of last night.
“I- I need to leave,” you whispered, quickly gathering your discarded clothes and undergarments as you rushed to the restroom, forcing down your whimpers as your sensitive cunt brushed against your thighs with every step you took.
“I can’t be here, t-this was a mistake,” you stammered while putting on your dress, quickly stuffing your used panties into your purse.
You looked like a mess, but it didn’t matter because you needed to get the hell out of there before he woke up, but somehow your feet didn’t move in the direction you wanted them to — out the door — but instead towards him unknowingly sleeping.
And quietly sitting against the edge of the bed, carefully pushing away the edges of his bangs that covered his handsome face, you decided to take a minute to absorb the last images of what you’ll have of him. And there you decided to let a tear or two drop from your eyes as you said your last goodbyes, gently kissing his lips before you made your way out the door, whispering, once again,
“I’m sorry…”
—-
It’s been close to an hour since your walk of shame out the door. Since then you quickly checked out of your room and made your way out of the hotel.
You immediately called for a taxi to get home, groaning as you were hit with the realities of your mistakes last night.
Treading up the stairs your legs quivered with every move. It's been a while since you've been fucked that hard, nor even had a partner that lasted so long.
You needed to text Shoko, you prayed that she didn’t blow through your notifications when you suddenly went missing last night. Sighing, you absentmindedly tried to find your phone in your bag as you punched in your door keys.
You started to think, maybe the whole fucking universe was now against you, for your sins, because your phone wasn’t in your purse.
You tried to retrace your steps to where you’d last used it as you made yourself over to your bed, stripping off your clothes as you walked over to the shower.
And to your last memory, you texted Ieiri out in the balcony… and then,
“Shit,” you hissed, remembering how your bag was tossed to the side when you were being feverishly stripped of your clothes, “it’s probably under his bed or something.”
“I hope no one calls… or tries to contact me until he leaves his room,” you groaned as the hot water massaged your tense shoulders while your fingers ran down your body.
Washing every crevice as you also tried to erase away the memory you had with him, you forced yourself to retract your tears. This was your punishment you repeated, this was the outcome of your selfishness. You lathered yourself in soap, trying to scrub away the pent-up guilt until you noticed something flash under the light.
You never wore your jewelry into the shower, you’ve always had a habit to take them off to not tarnish.
But there was a golden ring, a ring that fits a little loosely on your promise finger.
Unable to understand why, all that circled through your mind was to go back.
Quickly washing off, throwing on any pair of clothes before running to your door, you could feel your anxious heart beating loudly in your chest as your ears started to feel plugged from the tension. And just when you’re about to open your door, you hear a buzz that silenced every chaos around you.
Looking through the peep hole, you felt faint, your heart entirely about to burst — is this reality or am i still dreaming?
“It’s me,” you heard his calm voice.
Your hands trembled as you slowly opened up the door, your eyes taking a moment to quickly scan his body — donning the same clothes as yesterday with the top buttons of his white shirt undone and ends stuffed into his slacks, his hair lightly messy and eyes a little sunken.
“How’d you get here?” you gasped with your ringed hand clenched, hidden behind your back, while the other pricked at your thumb.
“You left your phone in my room, and I found it because Ieiri was blowing up your phone," Satoru calmly stated as he handed over your phone, "so I asked where you lived to drop it off.”
“She didn’t say anything?” you warily asked
“Well, she did ask about us."
“And… did she threaten you or anything?”
“No, why would she? But,” stretching out his arms as he released groan, “I told her we fucked,” he boyishly smiled.
Afraid to confront your messy rendezvous with him, you nervously bit your lips, and you avoided his gaze. Noticing your tendencies, you felt his hand cup your face to meet his while his thumb gently soothed your aching lip, "hey," he whispered, "don't do that."
And stepping closer to you, the mild fragrance of his shampoo dancing in your nostrils, “Did you see it?” he asked.
“Mhm,” you acknowledged, “I saw it just now while showering,” you looked into his eyes to seek an answer, tears starting to cloud your vision.
“You know, I’m not the same anymore,” he confessed, “I have power, I’m strong, and I’m able to do things now,” pressing a kiss onto your forehead, “but the only thing that stayed the same about me," chuckling as he shook his head — as if he couldn't even believe it himself.
"is that I didn’t change my number since we’ve broken up,” he stated before taking a step into your apartment, the click of his shoes hitting the tile floor echoing throughout the hallway, “I just hoped maybe one day you’ll call.”
"why?" you honestly questioned, unable to understand why he would choose to do that.
"I don't know," Satoru shrugged while pulling away, "guess I really tried to subconsciously manifest the we were fated to be bullshit that I preached."
“But that girl,” you quietly muttered while you unknowingly pouted when you saw his arms cross against his chest, the tightness of his sleeves about to burst from his muscles bulging.
“Girl… what girl?” Your comment took him aback.
“The one you were in Paris with,” your face feeling hot, embarrassed that you outed yourself for stalking him.
“You stalking me?” He chuckled while leaning against the wall, "it's not what you think," Gojo sighed as he pushed back his hair, "that girl, it was Suguru.”
Raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, sighing as he saw the unbelief in your eyes, “Here look,” he commented while pulling out his phone to show you pictures, “we went for his art exhibition or some shit because his girl couldn’t make it with him.”
“B-but you came late to the reunion.”
“Yea, because I wasn't going to pull up looking mid when I needed to make you regret ever dumping me,” he joked while pinching your cheeks, "I didn't have plans on attending until that jerk sent me a photo of you," he shamelessly confessed.
“You’re stupid,” you grasped his hand to check his finger — ringless.
“But it was worth it, no? Got you to indirectly confess,” emphasizing his last few words, “that maybe you still love me."
"Whatever," you mumbled, "I said I loved you."
"fine by me," Satoru accepted, " but the fact is that you still think I’m hot, no? Or maybe you just missed my cock? ”
“You’re crazy,” you stated while wiping your tears.
“Yea, I know,” his gaze softens as he sees you playing with his fingers, your small ones wrapped around his.
“and this ring is too big for me,” you cried as you melted in his touch, his right thumb gently rubbing against your cheeks.
“That too, I know,” he smiled stepping closer into your house, and slowly closing the door behind him, “we’ll get another one together soon, only if you'll let me.”
"I'd like that," you whispered.
“I just couldn’t get it for us when you heartlessly broke up with me eight years ago," Satoru confessed while brushing the tip of his nose against yours.
“I’m so sorry Satoru,” you snuggled your face into his strong chest, his arms tightly wrapped around you, cooing as he steadied your breaths, “Shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.”
“I’ve hurt you, I’m the one that caused all this,” you heaved as he pressed light kisses all over your face.
“Through everything,” kissing your swollen eyes, taking his time to savor your touch as his lips traveled their way back to its home, briefly kissing your ringed finger as he looked into your eyes.
And sealing his final destination, he whispered before locking his lips with yours once more,
“I’ll always find you even if you run away because you’ll always be mine.”
author's comment: sheesh, I didn't expect this to get this long... but here it is! I wanted to write the typical exes-to-lovers trope, but I was stuck on the quote with Satoru teasing how his past partners wanted to thank the reader for teaching him how to eat pussy... and here we are over 9k words later.... oh wells
again, i hope you enjoyed it!!
p.s. i might just have one exes to lovers in the drafts for geto, as well.... hahahahaha but you didn't hear that from me, nope (,:
#ae.writes#jjk x reader#jjk x you#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#jjk smut#gojo smut#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#darkmode.#forbes30!gojo
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✦ how can you tell? (of how easily i fall at your feet.)
⎯ oh, how love bleeds from just one gesture. ( some telltale signs that they might've fallen for you. )
#STARRING. neuvillette, wriothesley & lyney ft. gn!reader. { 2.4k words }
#TAGS. sfw, fluff & crack, major pining (!!!). more: neuvi has 1 extra part bcs i realized too late, wrio is a rascal /aff, lynette is a professional wingwoman here (everyone, applaud!!), mentions of various fontaine npc's.
#P/S. pardon my rusty writing and ideas but alas, may i entice you with some fontaine gentlemen on this fine day?? (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) ੭
★ 〜 masterlist.
© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
⎯ neuvillette's love is subtle, hidden behind a veil of formal courtesy. the iudex is the nation's symbol of impartiality; personal relationships, a common factor of inciting bias in one's judgement, are to be sifted through wisely. he can choose which he ends up keeping, yet he cannot choose which he ends up wanting. what of a relationship he desires but cannot keep? a conundrum but still, his affections for you seep through the crevices.
it's in the way. . . your name becomes a beloved among the melusines, you wonder why?
it goes without saying that every citizen of fontaine acknowledges melusines to be friendly creatures. all of them are sweethearts! ...but is it you or is there some form of hidden favoritism here?
for some reason, they always seem to go out of their ways to greet you on the streets. a “hello, mx. [name]!” from the right then a “good day, mx. [name]!” from the left. maybe a “stay safe, mx. [name]!” on days when it's crowded too... you're starting to think the quota of greetings you receive is much bigger than everyone else.
before long, even your arms are getting piled up with favors. one ticket for a seat in the opera epiclese from aeife, a slice of cake from sedene, some high-quality butter from muirne, a free beverage from menthe — you lost count of the freebies you've received already.
what's going on? it is as if there's a badge of approval from someone just hanging over your head. visible to a melusine's eyes, but not to yours. (you've heard that melusines perceive things differently than humans, though.)
but who are you to complain? you're not immune to their contagious smiles each time you pass by. on some days, you even entertain the thought that they are more familiar with you than you are with them. all in a humorous sense, of course.
ironically enough, this theory wouldn't take long to ring true: having received a bouquet of your favorite dessert from café lutece on your birthday from kiara, this coincidence only feeds into your suspicion even more.
a considerate gesture but surely, they don't do this for everyone? you don't recall ever telling your usual order and birthdate to a melusine before. your mind scrambles around for a memory you might've missed. who could've—
“oh, yes... i almost forgot,” kiara holds her chin in thought. “monsieur neuvillette says to send you his regards,” she nods, relieved that the message did not make its narrow escape from her mind. but blissfully unaware of the impact her words have left on you.
“goodbye, mx. [name]!” the melusine bids you farewell with a cheery wave. you murmur back a response but it comes out incoherent at best — you are simply too dumbfounded by the realization.
...so, that's who.
(wait a second, is arouet in on this too?!)
it's in the way. . . he begins to take longer breaks, hoping to run into you in front of the palais.
taking quiet strolls just outside the palais is, more often than not, neuvillette's idea of rest from work. although some might expect the iudex to have chosen a more 'creative' or luxurious location, but he digresses.
this place is near his office so less time is wasted on the journey back, liath also patrols here so he has the opportunity to inquire about her well-being — and occasionally, he stumbles upon you as well.
'occasionally' is the keyword: neuvillette has always preferred order and routine above chances and coincidences. but something about this idiosyncrasy — the tendency to linger beyond his usual duration, the act of stalling to hold onto hope that you might pass by today — is a indication of hypocrisy he wishes not to comment on.
sometimes, he closes his eyes so that his ears may be more attuned to the sound of your voice. sometimes, he opens his eyes so that they may look around for a glimpse of your face. who's to say if he'll ever be graced by your presence? it is all in fate's hands.
call it an odd method of manifestation, a childish one that even neuvillette scoffs at himself for. sometimes, it doesn't work, of course. not that he ever expects it to — but oh, when it does.
“...monsieur?” your voice cuts through the silence in his mind. he takes the sight of you in; a polite greeting on your tongue, several grocery bags in your arms and that beam on your face as you say, “what a coincidence to see you here.”
the iudex finds that he doesn't mind having his privacy briefly interrupted. not at all. not when it's like this, not when it's by you. alas, it seems that fate has smiled down on him today.
“yes, hello. what a serendipitous coincidence indeed.”
neuvillette smiles, he can't help it. perhaps, he might grow a soft spot for coincidences, after all.
(you sneak a brief glance at the sky with a squint. ...is it just you or are the clouds clearing up a little?)
⎯ wriothesley's love is beguiling, the kind of adventure that keeps you on your toes. a forthright gentleman; he is the type to know what he wants and he wants you. with him, you'll taste whiplash like never before. butterflies in your stomach, the urge to throw a shoe at him, you'll get it all. but an adventure isn't an adventure without breaks in between and it's at that very moment where you'll find you adore him the most... when he rests his head on your lap, momentarily free from worldly titles, breathing like the man who longs for warmth that he has always been.
it's in the way. . . he always offers you tea when really, he just wants you to stay.
everyone knows that wriothesley enjoys his tea — but that's only because he sees no need to hide his preferences; not his craving for a cup of tea when afternoon arrives nor his fondness for you either.
he doesn't conceal it, but doesn't bring attention to it either. wriothesley likes to think that only those with discerning eyes can pick up on the miniscule (???) hints he drops. that is, if saying “why not stay for some tea?” is even considered a subtle clue at all... maybe, he's mixing up polite courtesy with flirting a bit too much.
but who cares? in the grand scheme of things, the fun is seeing whether you'll figure it out or not. and let's be frank here; wriothesley is a patient man in all aspects, able to play the long game like no other.
don't worry, you may take as long as you want to — ironic since you're technically the only player in this 'game' — but hey, he has faith in your abilities! besides, you get to enjoy a cup of free tea (and with his company, preferably). surely, you can't complain about that? ...hah, he's just teasing you.
tick-tock! tick-tock!
the clock strikes twelve in the afternoon.
“ah, finally a well-deserved break.” the tone in which wriothesley pairs with that grin on his face is nothing less than devious. the glance he throws your way as he set aside the documents on his desk is something. or rather, it's suggesting something.
and frankly, you've experienced this many times enough to know what the underlying meaning is. “let me guess...” you let out a sigh, “you're asking me to have tea with you again?”
the emphasis on the last word is definitely, wholly intentional. you're sure wriothesley knows that too — “bingo,” he hums at you, sounds almost like a whistle. “you're getting more and more clever. must be all the tea i made you.”
“don't flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes at his attempted jest but you take a seat on his office couch, anyway. your own unique and adorable way of saying yes, he learned. still, wriothesley thinks that exasperated look on your face is an absolute marvel... and maybe, that little smile tugging on your lips you're trying to fight, too.
“same as usual?” he asks, pushing back his chair with a proud grin still plastered on his face that you wish you can wipe off.
but instead, you shake your head fondly at his antics. “mhm,” and rest a cheek on your fist. watching him tiredly, you realize you could get used to this. maybe.
wriothesley smiles to himself. looks like you figured out the tea has always been an excuse, after all.
(you've won the game, congrats! a subsidiary reward is a comment from sigewinne about how this tea routine between the two of you bears a resemblance to an elderly human couple's. she means it, innocently sincere.)
⎯ lyney's love can be faceted at first, one with such a smooth surface that you never imagined there would be so many layers underneath. joy and bliss, sorrow and burdens; all cramped and stuffed together behind his mask of perfection on the stage, a mask akin to a child's treasure chest almost bursting at the seams. you can unravel him if you tried, you can take off that mask if you reached out. and when you do, you'll find beautiful violet eyes staring right back at you, thankful, imploring you to go further.
it's in the way. . . his bravado dissipates around you, nerves scattering like confetti that bursts from his hat on stage.
they say that the first impression is the best impression — or at least, lyney hopes that's the case with all of the interesting impressions he has left on you so far. his instinct by nature is to impress, to bedazzle and that hasn't stopped since meeting you for the first time.
trying doesn't always lead to success, however. you stuttered in front of them twice, lynette pointed out after the first time he spoke to you. that fact spooked the poor magician so much he stayed up rethinking the conversation under the cover of his blanket. lynette isn't wrong per se, but lyney firmly believes that he will leave a better impression... one day, somehow, no matter how many times it takes!
he is a magician; charisma and charms should have or rather, already have come easily to him. his persona on the stage is no lie — just a tiny concerted exaggeration, maybe — but you've been among his audience before. you've seen what he is capable of. so surely, you'd know that lyney isn't really as demure and easily flustered as you might think he is... because no punches held back, he acts like that every time you talk to him.
he can't help it and that, exactly, is what makes it worse.
how many times have he cupped his face and mumbled nonsense into his hands for failing to impress you yet again? you're so wonderful and he's just so... miserable. this is unlike him. he has to wonder why you still look for him after each performance when you know you'll be greeted by his being a wreck.
maybe they like you that way, freminet tried to help. or maybe they like you no matter what, lynette chipped in. that had lyney pondering for a long, long, long time which translates into weeks.
will the day come where he presents you with a rainbow rose and professes his feelings for you without losing his nerves? he can only hope (and try, one day).
it never gets old.
when his feet step off the stage and the curtains have fallen, the satisfaction that spreads all the way to his fingertips never fails to disappoint. but with that, also comes the imminent feeling of anticipation.
for each performance he delivers, a visitor is bound to linger. when all members in the audience would head to the entrance of the opera epiclese to leave, one of them would stay. waiting patiently to be beckoned to the backstage. it's been a routine for so long, after all.
“lyney?”
right on cue.
your voice greets his ears, a sound that he can admit he misses only to himself. he exhales, a placating act to shush his beating heart from growing any louder.
“ah, [name]!” the magician enunciates your name with a certain type of fanfare. “here to lend a hand again, i assume?” he tries to shoot you a confident grin, but you aren't gullible enough to not see the tint of red blooming on his cheeks.
you stifle a chuckle at his (attempt at a) bold opening. “of course,“ said with a nod and a silly thought along the lines of: he's cute.
your honest and calm response takes him by surprise. he blinks a tad. oh, it seems the thrill from the show a few minutes prior still hasn't worn off. perhaps, he's still all too used to the crowd's shouts and cheers... not that he expects you to start yelling, of course!
“i see,” lyney feigns a cough to recollect his composure. now that he is cognizant of the fact it's just the two of you, he shrinks down into a more casual version of himself with a nervous chuckle.
“will you... be staying for long?” he asks, bashful. the question sounds more genuine than just a mere pleasantry. his eyes look hopeful, twinkling at the thought of having your presence around. his fingers have even come up to scratch at the side of his neck, you don't think lyney even realizes he is doing that.
who are you to say no? you smile. “well, my schedule's pretty empty today.”
his lips instantly break into a grin, brighter than one he usually has onstage. “that's actually marv—” he starts.
“that's great,” a familiar monotonous voice cuts in. lynette peers from behind you with a hum, “we could use more hands to pack up the new props.” oh, and that brief glint of mischief in her feline eyes as she watches how lyney gapes at her sudden intrusion.
“sure!” you glance back at her, oblivious to it all. “thanks for letting me in, lynette. i'll try my best to help.” even if you admit that one of the reasons you're here is for lyney, but you can't discredit his twin sister for allowing you to enter here in the first place. a free backstage pass in exchange for free labor, quite a fair deal.
with your back turned to him, lyney takes the chance to mouth his own words of disbelief to lynette. incomprehensible except for that one i can't believe you're doing this! that she manages to catch.
“no problem,” she observes her brother over your shoulder with keen interest, “everyone knows how fond lyney is of you.”
there is a series of spluttering noises behind you. a certain magician finds himself at the verge of choking on mere oxygen.
“lynette!”
but really, she has no doubt that lyney has fallen head over heels for you. hook, line and sinker.
— thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are most appreciated. ♡
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley x reader#lyney x reader#neuvillette x you#wriothesley x you#lyney x you#genshin fluff#genshin impact hcs#genshin impact x you#genshin imagines#seelestial.inks
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just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨
end of line | h. brown
description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is
includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie
a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3
word count: 1.7k+
things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.
you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.
nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.
you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.
the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.
there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.
you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.
which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.
"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.
you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."
"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"
a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.
"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.
it always felt good to kiss hobie.
you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.
but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.
there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.
and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.
you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.
but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.
you need to be someone's.
the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.
so, you look elsewhere.
you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.
you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.
not until hobie got off stage.
it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.
he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.
"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"
his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.
“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.
“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.
the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.
“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.
hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.
instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.
hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.
“what’d you mean?”
you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.
“you just cockblocked me!”
a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”
“yes! of course i was!”
“but why? you are i are together.”
“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”
“yes we are.”
“no, we aren’t.”
“why do you think that?”
you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”
another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.
“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”
your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.
"thought you didn't like relationships?"
"labels. i don't like labels."
there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.
the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.
he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.
"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.
you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.
"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.
"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.
"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.
"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."
"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."
"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."
a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.
in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.
"he doesn't like consistency."
"don't like consistency, mate."
#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x you#hobie brown smut#hobie brown fluff#spider punk x reader#spider punk x you#spider punk#celeste writs mcu#hobiesworld!#hobie brown#spider man across the spider verse
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remember when my life was interesting and held any sort of greater meaning? yeah me neither
#in neg city#bashing my head into a wall as we speak IM SO INSIGNIFICANT AND SMALL I SHOULD JUST BE DEAD#things have been so bad lately i cant convince myself to do anything and i feel like everyones forgotten i exist#and i just am too tired to put effort into maintaining relationships when people dont even seem to care that ive gone missing#i keep telling myself tomorrow ill do this tomorrow ill do that. and then tomorrow comes and im too tired to move#leaving my house is becoming harder and harder i feel like im becoming an agoraphobe#even tho my house feels more and more like a prison#i just do not feel comfortable anywhere anymore and i dont know what to do to change it#people keep asking 'how can i help' and i dont know. i dont know how anyone can help me out of this#and itd be hard to ask for that help anyway bc i already feel like im a lost cause#i dont hold significant interest in anything i dont care where my life goes#someone could come in here and rob me of everything i have and it wouldnt do anything#except make me realize how insignificant i am#im sick of answering my moms repetitive questions im sick of talking to my family#im sick of waiting for friends to say they care#im sick of sleeping im sick of staying awake#im jsut sick of everything. its all so dull#and i feel so guilty abt it bc its like im wasting this life but my lifes already a waste so. who cares ig
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꒰ :🥀 [ Hells greatest Demon ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
Summary : You've had quite a rough day, so Alastor tries his best to cheer you up with some food and a broadcast.
Pairing : Alastor x Reader
Word count : 1305
Genre : Sweet Fluff
Warnings ➵ Hinting of cannibalism (Alastor)
a/n : Very self-indulged bcs Alastor is my comfort chara rn and I'm currently having a rather hard time.. Also I'm very very new to Hazbin Hotel, so I'm so sorry if smth doesn't match up or seems out of character! Decided to write this simply for comfort!♡
┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡
It was another hellish day, like always work was keeping you on your toes, Charlie had yet another plan and of course activity everyone at the hotel had to join in. Niffty was keeping you busy more than any other day, it was slowly getting to you. On top of that, your ex had to show up at your workplace today.
So with all this happening, you decided to get a bit of peace with a tea in the kitchen, but your mind was running a race, ending in simply resting your head on the kitchen table and closing your eyes for a second, trying to tune out Angels and Husks banter at the bar.
"Greetings my dear!" A cheerful, yet accompanied by a radio static sound, voice sounded behind you, you wanted to groan but swallowed it down again. It's not like you despised Alastor, quite the opposite, he was rather lovely and nice to you, shocking. But he sometimes loves to play into someone's despair and you're no exception. "Oh darling, you look rather doomed, haha, why don't you smile, you know you're never fully dressed without one!" Alastor walked past you, shrugging off his coat and laying it onto the back of one of the chairs, his sleeves being pushed up by his hands now. "I'm not really in the mood for smiling right now.." He took a quick glance at you, which you didn't notice of course, before he turned around again to the stove. His staff was now leaning against the kitchen cupboard, soft jazz music was now playing, which was calming you down a bit more.
"Mind sharing your thoughts darling? You look rather lost in them." It was weird for Alastor to care for others problems, yet he asked you, still his back turned to you, your eyes open yet again, following his movements. Getting ready to cook, probably his favorite, Jambalaya. "It's just been a really hard day, Niffty almost got me killed, my boss just dumped a week's extra load onto me which I shall finish in three days, and then on top of this all my stupid fucker of an ex decided to show up at my work." At the last words, just slightly, barely noticeable, the red-haired demon tensed up a bit. "That does seem like a rough day my dear, how about I make you some nice new tea and when I finish cooking you'll get the first plate." Turning to you now, his signature smile was planted on his face, you doubt you ever saw him without one, it can be unsettling at times, but mostly it was fine. Alastor grabbed your teacup, and set up a cattle with fresh water, as he scooped some tea into your cup, all the while starting to prepare to cook. It was calming, he was calming. Despite hearing the others all around the hotel, the jazz music, and the soft sounds of Alastor cooking, you could swear you also heard him hum softly to the music but you didn't dare mention it to him, were drowning everything out.
A hot steaming cup was swiftly set in front of you, the tea a different one now than you had before, but it still gave of a soothing and calming smell. With a thank you, you took a sip of the porcelain cup.
It was quiet in the kitchen for the time being, only the soft music and Alastors cooking, you two were merely enjoying the presence of the other, it was calming your mind and you finally felt your shoulders relaxing. Soon a plate was placed in front of you, it was Jambalaya, which you already ate countless times since staying at the hotel, Alastor loved to make it often. He himself now sitting down beside you at the table with a plate of his own, coat still on the chair, sleeves still pushed to his elbows.
"Thanks!" Thanking him for the plate, you immediately dig in, the taste was amazing like always, Alastor truly is a master at cooking. Soon the others joined in the kitchen, the kitchen was now booming with voices and laughter, but this time it didn't bother you, it was nice to eat all together. Laughing at some joke Angel just made, before talking with Charlie about some idea how to get new guests for the hotel. All the while the eyes of a certain demon were on you.
After the good meal, everyone together started cleaning their dishes, Nifty almost threw her fork at an insect on the floor, but Husker took the fork away before she could accidentally harm someone. In the end, it was just you and Alastor left, as you put away all the clean plates now, Alastor putting his coat back on, as he took his microphone staff.
"So how are you feeling dear? Better now?" Jumping a little bit at how close his voice suddenly was, turning your head just slightly, noticing how Alastor was now standing behind you and leaning over your shoulder. "Y-Yes! Thanks a lot again!" Stepping away from him, he simply watched you with his usual smile. "Splendid! How about you join me for my broadcast?" Eyes going wide now at his offer, he never allowed anyone to join him when he goes on air, hell, if someone were to disturb him they shall never be seen again. So to say you were stunned was an understatement.
"I would love to but.. are you sure?" You often listened to his broadcast when you had time, or sometimes put it on when you go to sleep, but to listen to him live? That would be amazing. "Well of course my dear, if I wasn't sure I wouldn't have offered! Well then! Let's get going!" A big smile was now stretched on his face, as he was leaving the kitchen in tow with you.
Arriving at his radio tower, which you never saw from the inside before, so you're actually a bit hyped to join him. Holding the door open for you like the gentleman he is, you enter and immediately start looking around. Walking over to the big windows, you could see the city below, from up here it looked so small, it was amazing. "Well my dear, do take a seat wherever you like, we're soon going on air." Looking back at Alastor with a smile now as you nod, taking a seat on the couch on the wall. Overall the room wasn't that big, his room, which you saw before a few times, was definitely bigger than this. Leaning against the wall a bit, you wait for Alastor to start his broadcast.
"Salutation hell, good to be back on the air today..." You were listening closely, he was playing some soft music in the background while talking. Slowly the exhaustion from today was creeping on you more with every minute that passed. And before you knew it, your consciousness slipped away intdreamlandnd.
Alastor kept the broadcast going, ending it after a good one or two hours, looking over at you, his dear darling. A smile wide on his face, as he puts everything he used away to his original place. Slow steps were made over to you, as he was shrugging his coat off and laying it over your body carefully. "Sleep well darling, hope you liked my broadcast." A strand was pushed behind your ear, that fell in front of your face.
Turning to the door now, the soft smile he wore for you, slowly turned into a sinister smile. "Now to that ex of yours.." Leaving the room, he closes the door behind him, and let's just say, he had a nice midnight snack this time and your ex to your surprise never showed up at your workplace again.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin x reader#alastor#alastor x reader#x reader#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x you#hazbin x you#x you#alastor imagine#hazbin imagine#hazbin hotel imagine
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Can you do a three times the gang almost caught and the one time they did with two dal or steve
But the reader is also a Curtis? Like their sister?
𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭
[𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝]
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - i'm so sorry this took so long omg. I'm really trying to be faster but my attention span is so short and I just can't sit down for longer than 10 mins.
I will probably also end up writing this sort of fic for Two-bit and Steve too, only bc I have literally nothing for them yet lmaoo.
Anyways, hope ya'll enjoy and as always my asks are still open for requests!!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 3.5k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing, mentions of fighting
0.1 - more charm than sense
The Curtis home is unusually quiet; everyone either out or at work.
The radio plays on low, some commercial station that only seems to play the same ten songs before switching back to the first and replaying them all without end.
You’re standing in front of the sink, towel in hand, and as you clean up the remnants of breakfast, your brother’s dirty plates are dumped haphazardly atop the counter in a less than neat pile. The water runs clear under your steady hands, and for a moment you forget that you aren’t entirely alone in the house, too focused on cleaning up to notice anything further than the sound of your own breathing and the light static of the radio.
You're so lost in thought that you barely register the lingering presence behind you, only startling once a familiar pair of arms wind themselves around your waist from behind, the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and cheap, most likely stolen, cologne filling your senses. Lips are pressed against the base of your neck, and a chin rests on your shoulder. The sudden weight is warm and familiar.
“I thought ya invited me over to spend some time with me, doll, not clean.” Dallas drawls, his voice rough and his accent heavy. You can feel him smile into your skin as you sigh, letting go of the cloth in favour of turning towards him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His hands fall to your hips, and his thumbs trace lazy patterns into your skin.
“I didn’t invite you, Dal,” You raise your brows, “You climbed in through my window.”
Dallas laughs lowly in response, shrugging nonchalantly as he drops a kiss on the corner of your lips. “Didn't expect ya to be so preoccupied.” He trails off, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and nipping lightly along your jawline. “Thought I’d be gettin’ more attention than this.”
You roll your eyes fondly in response, but don’t move away as he continues peppering kisses down your jaw and collar, your hands wandering idly to the hem of your shirt. You’re quick to slap him away, fixing him with a warning look. He just grins lazily, leaning in close enough to press his lips just below your ear.
“Dallas.” Your tone is stern, and it has absolutely no effect whatsoever on the greaser, who merely hums in reply, hands moving back to your waist to pull you closer. “Not here.”
Dallas’ grip tightens for a moment, and he pulls back, tilting his head to the side. “C’mon, doll… You’re brothers are gone; what’s there to worry about?” There’s a wicked grin on his lips as he steps away from you and leans against the kitchen counter, watching you carefully.
It had been a mutual agreement to hide your relationship from the gang, a decision made to spare you from the headache Darry would no doubt give you and the black eye Dallas would receive for even thinking about touching you. You knew it was stupid to try hiding things from the gang, especially when they could see right through you like nobody else did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell them.
Darry would probably skin you if he found out you were dating a hood like Dally, and you didn’t want to risk it.
“There’s plenty to worry about,” you conclude, turning back to the sink. “What if Two-Bit or Johnny decide they wanna pay little old me a visit, huh, and they catch us here in the kitchen?”
Dallas chuckles before placing his hands on your shoulders, leaning in close to whisper directly into your ear, “They won’t catch us, darlin’. They haven’t yet.” His hands begin to wander once more, and you drain the sink with a sigh, trying to find what little composure you have left to resist him and his words. He's relentless, damn him, and you know better than to hope for any sort of peace and quiet when you're home and alone.
His lips continue to trail a line down your neck, mouthing teasingly along the sensitive skin before moving back to your lips. This time, however, you give in, your fingers threading into his hair as you meet his eager advance.
It's almost too easy to lose yourself in the haze of the moment, so much so that you hardly notice the thumping of footsteps on the porch until the screen door opens suddenly and Sodapop’s voice rings out.
“Y/N! You here?” His voice is loud with excitement as always, and you’re quick to jump away from Dallas, your eyes wide with surprise.
“What the hell?” You hiss, glancing around the room frantically before spotting before your gaze lands on the bathroom door. You shove Dallas towards it, mumbling under your breath as you do so. “Get your ass outta here.” He snorts quietly, following your gaze and pressing a kiss to your cheek before closing the door behind him just as Soda rounds the corner in search of you. He beams brightly, and you let out a sigh of relief.
“You’re home early…” You start, and he shrugs, heading to the dining table to grab his lunch which is still sitting where you’d left it out this morning.
“Forgot this,” He holds up the bag and you roll your eyes internally. Typical.
“You know,” You head back to the sink, taking out the now-clean dishes and stacking them back in the cupboard. “Sometimes I wonder how you’ve lived this long.”
Soda smirks and raises an eyebrow, backing towards the door, lunch now in hand. “What can I say? What I lack in sense, I make up for in charm.” He winks, flashing a cocky grin as he leaves the house, the door banging shut behind him.
You watch to make sure he's completely gone before jogging to the bathroom and throwing open the door. “I told you this would happen.” You start, but stop short when you see that the room is empty.
The only sign that anybody had even been in here in the first place is the open window, the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, and that stupid cheap cologne that lingers in the air.
“Goddamnit, Winston…” You huff, shaking your head and walking over to pull the window shut.
0.2 - some unwanted visitors
There’s a slight chill in the air; the summer nights slowly beginning to turn cooler as fall begins its slow, sleepy crawl across the state.
Dallas has an arm thrown lazily over your shoulders, a cigarette dangling between his lips as he presses close, and a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. You lean into him slightly, savouring the warmth surrounding him and feeling content in his hold. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, neither wanting to break it nor quite being comfortable staying silent either.
“So... I suppose you're wanted back before curfew, huh?” Dallas eventually drawls, shifting slightly to lean his head against yours. You let out a small laugh, leaning further into him and allowing your cheek to rest against his chest.
“You know it,” You murmur, and he hums, his fingers tracing little circles on the small of your back absentmindedly. “Darry thinks I'm out with friends again, so you’ll have to drop me off at the end of the street.”
The greaser frowns at that, a faint crease forming between his brows. “I ain’t lettin’ you out of my sight, doll, 'specially not this late.” He looks almost offended that you'd even suggest such an idea, and you shake your head, looking up at him.
“Dal, I can handle myself. I don’t need you watching my ass 24/7.”
He rolls his eyes, giving you an indignant scoff. “You ain’t got to act all high and mighty, doll. You know I ain’t going to let you walk alone.” He leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers the next part. “Besides, we both know you like it when I watch your ass.” He pulls back then, grinning wildly when you roll your eyes dramatically, pushing him away.
“Whatever, Winston,” You mutter, a coy smile tugging at the corners of your lips as he reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together loosely. “But seriously, though, I’ll be fine.”
Dallas simply grunts, choosing to drop the subject, giving you no further argument. You know he’ll still insist on walking you to your porch, regardless of whether your brothers spot you or not.
He thrives on adrenaline and the thrill of getting caught is just too much for him to resist.
You both turn back to the movie playing on screen—some old beach movie with a plot no different from every other. It's cliche and unrealistic, but you're willing to put up with it just so you and Dallas can spend time together without hiding.
It's not until halfway through the movie that you spot a familiar pair of faces making their way towards your row of seats, too caught up in their debate to spot you. Dallas currently has his head buried in the crook of your neck, the movie long since forgotten as he trails kisses along your jawline, and you're barely keeping your attention focused on the screen.
“Dal,” Your tone is hard, and you elbow him sharply in the ribs, eliciting an annoyed groan. “We’ve got company.”
Dallas turns to glance towards the end of your row, and, sure enough, there stands none other than your brother Ponyboy Curits and Two-Bit Mathews, both of whom are yet to notice you both.
“Shit,” He growls under his breath, arm slipping from around your shoulder as he turns his body away from them. “What’re they doin’ here?”
You give him a half-hearted shrug, scanning the area for a way out and coming up short. The closest exits are the ones closest to your brother and Two-Bit, and you have no doubt that they’ll spot you if you try to make a break for it.
You're about to suggest going the long way and cutting through the crowds when suddenly someone comes up behind you, hands slamming into your shoulders and your voice cutting through your internal panic.
“Y/N Curtis!”
You whip your head around, meeting the gaze of Two-Bit, who is grinning like a madman. Dallas lets out a grunt of irritation, crossing his arms over his chest and shooting the two boys a cold look.
“What’d you want?” He snaps, and Ponyboy frowns, looking over at you curiously.
“I thought you told Darry you were out with friends tonight?”
Your eyes widen, and your face heats instantly. “Well…” You trail off. “There was a change of plans.”
Pony raises an eyebrow, seemingly sceptical at your words, as Two sits himself down in the seat beside you, stretching out and taking a sip from his drink. Dallas says nothing, his expression darkening, and you feel him tense up beside you.
There's an awkward pause, broken only by the crackling audio of the movie, before Dal huffs impatiently and rises from his chair. He shoots you a look, and you instantly understand, standing in your own chair.
“We’re going to go grab some drinks.” You state this before turning on your heel and following Dallas away from the seats, weaving through the rows until you find a secluded spot, away from the larger crowds and the prying eyes of the two greasers.
Ponyboy and Two-Bit watch to both go, frowning in confusion before Two raises a brow. “They seem pretty close.”
Pony shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “My sister isn’t stupid enough to date a hood like Dally.” Oh, how wrong they are…
0.3 - who’s jacket is that?
You’re at the DX, leaning back against one of the gas pumps as you listen to whatever wild story Steve is telling you. His hands flail around dramatically, and you nod along slowly, only half paying attention as Dallas comes to stand beside you, a cigarette hanging lazily between his lips.
He doesn't speak, simply resting a subtle hand against your lower back, his fingers drawing lazy patterns into your skin. Your mind races, and you take note of the people around you. How could any of your friends notice the small display of affection happening between the two of you? But they all seem too caught up in their own conversations to notice.
Steve’s voice cuts through your thoughts just then, drawing you from your reverie and your attention away from Dallas.
“And then she tosses her milkshake right in this asshole’s face and leaves!” You have no idea what he's talking about, but let out a small laugh regardless, at least trying to look somewhat interested in what he’s saying.
Dallas shifts a little next to you; the pressure of his hand is now more noticeable against your lower back, and you know that he knows you're distracted. You can almost sense the smirk he’s holding back, and you resist the urge to turn and glare at him, instead focusing back on Steve and the other boys, their mindless chatter continuing for a few moments longer before Johnny speaks up, his tone laced with curiosity.
“Hey, Y/N, is that a new jacket?”
You turn to stare at the boy, brows furrowed in confusion. “Huh?” You glance down, and you swear your heart stops for a moment. You're still wearing Dallas' jacket. Shit.
Quickly, you clear your throat, hoping that the colour flooding your cheeks isn’t too obvious. “Oh… Uh–” By now, all eyes are on you; the previous conversation has long been forgotten in favour of watching you intently. It’s uncomfortable, and just as you’re about to offer up a poor attempt at an answer, Steve pipes up again, his brow furrowed.
“Ain’t that your jacket, Dal?” He looks over at the greaser beside you, and Dallas hums, taking another drag of his cigarette. There’s a small smirk on his face, his eyes flickering down at you before he gives a shrug, blowing out a thin cloud of smoke.
“Dunno. Could be.” He states this nonchalantly, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and slouching against the gas pump. “It looks awfully similar.”
You swallow hard, averting your gaze as the gang glances back over at you, all sharing the same confused expressions. It seems Dallas isn't going to offer up any more on the subject, so with a few heavy sighs, everyone seems to drop it, returning to their previous conversations.
Letting out a small sigh of relief, you turn to look up at Dallas, who is still grinning smugly. His hand rests comfortably on your back once more, your fingers resuming their rhythmic pattern, and you allow your shoulders to relax a little, knowing he’ll tease you relentlessly later on.
“They look awfully comfortable.” Steve remarks quietly, nodding his head in yours and Dallas's general direction. It seems your fond expression for the hood hasn’t gone unnoticed, and Soda snorts, nudging his buddy in the ribs.
“What’re you talking about?” He raises a brow, taking a rag from his pocket and wiping off the oil staining his hands. His attention moves to you and Dallas, a knowing look spreading across his features as he watches the two of you interact and an impossibly soft look in Dally’s eyes as you talk to him.
He can’t help but notice the jacket once more, how it’s just a little too big on you, and how it looks a little too much like Dallas’'s to just be a coincidence. No, there’s no doubt in his mind about who exactly owns it, and if the smug smirk tugging at the corners of Dallas’ lips is anything to go by, then maybe, just maybe, Steve is right.
Things are slowly starting to add up.
0.4 - caught...
It’s early evening, and the sun is sinking low in the sky, casting dim rays of golden light throughout the room. It’s peaceful; the excitable chatter of the gang in the living room fills the air, muffled by your closed door.
Dallas has his head resting in your lap, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers as he blows smoke out through your open window. His eyes are closed tight, bruises and cuts litter his face, and his skin is stained with blood and dirt. He doesn’t speak, merely wincing as your fingertips trail over his wounds, stopping occasionally to press gentle kisses to his hair.
There’s a nasty gash above his eye, the blood trickling freely in little rivulets, and you wipe at it lightly with a wad of gauze, the sting of the alcohol drawing a pained grunt from the greaser.
“Do ya have to do that?”
You give him a sympathetic smile, brushing your lips over his forehead tenderly. “Sorry,” you mutter, running your fingers through his matted hair. “I’m almost done.”
Dallas doesn't move; he just stays silent, letting you dab gently at his injuries, his expression unreadable.
You never know how he's going to act after a rumble. Sometimes, he's fine, joking around and teasing with the others, but then there’s those small moments where the tension from the fight doesn’t dissipate, where he sits in complete silence, letting you work without complaint.
These are the times when you worry, when it becomes obvious that he is hurting. He won’t tell you, not directly at least, but you know something's wrong. You can tell in the way he holds onto you, his face hidden from view, as his hands grip desperately at the fabric of your shirt.
“Dal,” You murmur softly, and your tone is soft and soothing. “Talk to me.” Your fingers trail softly through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp, and you notice his shoulders drop a little. He exhales heavily, pressing his cheek against your thigh, his eyes closed tightly.
“Not right now,” His voice is thick and rough, and words slurred slightly as he struggled to stay awake. Your eyebrows furrow as a soft sigh escapes your lips, reaching your free hand out to brush over his bruised jaw. It's rare to see him so vulnerable and obviously upset, and it hurts knowing that he will bottle things up and hide them away until he’s forced to let it all out.
You don’t push, though. Instead, you take his hand in yours, running your thumb over his bruised knuckles as you lay back against the pillows. The movement causes Dallas to shift slightly, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close, and he drifts off within seconds.
You let your slip shut, allowing yourself to drift easily along with him, content to lay here with him and wait patiently until he’s ready to talk.
“Hey, where’s Dally and Y/N?” Pony’s voice breaks through the cheerful laughter of the gang as they bounce around the living room, most still high on adrenaline and excitement, only slowing down slightly once the question reaches their ears.
They all glanced about the space, their eyes scanning over every possible corner, before coming to rest with each other, sharing the same look of confusion.
Darry pushes himself up from his chair with a sigh, tossing the first-aid kit in his lap to Soda, who catches it with ease. “Y/N is in her room. She might know where Dallas is.” The gang all watches as he heads down the hall, stopping just outside your door to knock softly.
When there's no response, he frowns, glancing back towards the gang before knocking again. Still nothing. With a quick shrug, he turns the doorknob gently, pushing open the door and peeking inside.
Your bedroom is dark except for the faint glow emanating from your desk lamp, which illuminates the walls with a soft pale glow. Darry is about to call out to you, about to question you on where Dallas is, when he spots the hood in question asleep with his head in your lap.
His breath hitches, and he pauses, his gaze wandering to you, your fingers threaded through his blonde locks.
“Soda. Pony.” Darry calls quietly, catching both brothers’ attention immediately as he speaks. “Get over here.”
The two boys scramble up from their places on the couch, racing across the room and peering into your darkened room curiously, their eyes widening at the sigh before them.
“Well, damn.” Sodapop lets out a low whistle as the rest of the gang come up behind them. Two-Bit lets out a short laugh, and Steve cuts him off with a sharp elbow to the ribs. “I told you,” the former whispers, grinning broadly. “I told you they had something going on!”
The group all share a look, the sound of Darry clearing his throat echoing in the quiet house. Slowly, he backs out of the room. closing the door once more and letting out a breath.
There are words that will need to be had, promises that need to be made, but he supposes that can wait for another time. Right now, he'll let you and Dallas have your moment because it seems it's been long awaited. And it certainly has.
𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!
#the outsiders#the outsiders x reader#the outsiders headcanons#the outsiders preferences#the outsiders imagine#dallas winston#dallas winston x reader#dallas winston headcanons#dallas winston imagine#darry curtis#sodapop curtis#ponyboy curtis#johnny cade#two bit mathews#steve randle
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sun-kissed
bachelorette series - trailer • part 1 • part 2 • part 3
synopsis: an unexpected arrest deters filming for day 4 so instead, y/n and sana spend the day together. almost like a date?
warnings: mentions of child pedophilia! suggestive, cursing - i forget to tag that alot bcs its in all my fics but just assume its always there oop
w/c: 5.2k
a/n: okay this took me way longer than it should’ve to write but i think it’s maybe my favourite chapter so far… or maybe i’m soft rn 🤭 enjoy!
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could they have made any less of a scene?
the sirens have stopped but the blue and red lights continue to blaze as you stand in shock with the rest of the contestants while the cops raid the mansion.
sana had been taken away by the producers as soon as the police cars had pulled up.
when they're finally done checking the mansion, they walk out a cuffed wonsik. his head is down, refusing to look at any of you, hands behind his back as he's shoved into the back of the police car.
none of you had a clue what was going on, you were all enjoying the third rose ceremony and nothing could've predicted where this night had led you.
eventually, after the police have long driven away, the producers return with sana who looks a little shaken up. you head towards her immediately, wrapping your arms around her shoulders, but she can't seem to face you, eyes blank as she follows the producers instructions for everyone to come back into the mansion.
"sana? sana?" you're trying to get her attention, shaking her slightly.
she snaps out of it with a blink, looking up at you in confusion, "hm?"
"you okay? kinda lost you back there."
"mm yeah i just- it was just really unexpected."
"what was?"
she nods her head towards the producers who are now standing in front of the leftover contestants preparing to make an announcement.
"okay guys so we only just found this out but wonsik has been arrested on charges of owning child pornography, engaging in pedophilic acts, and sexual assault of a minor. the police have searched the house and confiscated all of his items and any incriminating evidence they could use in court. as you all know, we do conduct background checks on all contestants before they are accepted onto this show, and we apologise that this incident has been overseen. we won't be editing wonsik's arrest out of tonight's episode, but he has obviously been eliminated. we'll take tomorrow off filming to allow you all a small break and please do let us know if you have any concerns moving forward with filming."
what the actual fuck?
as soon as the producers are done with their announcement everyone is talking on top of each other, trying to figure out just what the hell happened and how this happened under everyone's noses.
"did you know?"
"holy shit i never saw that coming out of him-"
"man its always the quiet ones that are the most fucked up-"
you turn to sana in shock, feeling much like how she had looked just a little earlier. "sana?"
she's still a little distracted when she looks at you, "hmm? i'm tired y/n. let's go back home?"
you're nodding quickly, leading her away from the aftermath to the quiet cool of the outside air. you wave down your driver and quickly lead sana inside, stuttering out directions to your villa and sitting back, sneaking a glance at sana who's looking out the window with glazed eyes.
the drive back is silent save for the low hum of the engine. you're a little surprised when sana shuffles closer to you, linking her arm through yours and placing her head on your shoulder, still not saying anything.
you take her hand in yours, interlock your fingers, and lean your head on hers. the rest of the short drive is spent like this, the silence is thoughtful, but not awkward.
even as you arrive back at the house, your hands never leave each other's, you lead her towards your shared bathroom and brush your teeth side by side. only letting go of each other when you both go to start your nighttime skincare routines.
sana has a much more intricate routine than you because of her obsession with all things health-related and her need to take care of her skin well. so you finish earlier than her, mumbling a quick goodnight while she's still bent over the sink and moving past her to retire yourself to bed.
you close all the blinds, intending to have a full night's rest and wake up late tomorrow because filming was cancelled, climbing under your sheets and sighing at the feeling of soft fabric against your skin.
your eyes are slowly drifting shut when your door peeks open, and sana's slipping in, closing the door behind her, shrouding the room in darkness again. she tiptoes to the edge of your bed, lifting the cover and sliding inside, cold feet come to entangle themselves with your legs, shuffling close as you get a whiff of her night serum, the sweet, tangy smell of mandarin subtly descending upon your senses.
"this is okay right?" she's murmuring against you, you're lying face to face, eyes sleepily open while your eyes readjust to the darkness, making out the soft curl of her eyelashes and the perfect slant of her nose.
you hum against her, sliding an arm over her waist and pulling her closer, resting your foreheads together and closing your eyes comfortably.
you think she's drifted off to sleep after a few minutes, but she speaks up in a whisper, barely there, you wouldn't have heard her if you weren't almost lip to lip, "y/n?"
"hm?"
you feel the soft breath of her sigh against your lips, "i... i should've known... he- i could've put him away faster- i gave him a platform- he was on national television and oh y/n, kids the kids he took advantage of could've seen him on tv and thought-" she's slowly panicking the tone of her voice getting shakier as she spirals and allows herself to voice her thoughts out loud for the first time, "-thought that he was in the right that it was okay that there were no consequences and then i kissed him oh my god i kissed him y/n and what kinda message does that send like-"
"sana sana baby shh, shh c'mere-" you're pulling her into you, tucking her head under yours and she starts crying and shuddering, hands twisted at the collar of your shirt.
"i just- like what's worse is i actually liked him-"
"mm no no sweetie stop stop. listen no-one knew what he was okay? it's not your fault you fell for him you can't blame yourself for that. he literally came here with the intention of making you do that you were just another one of his unlucky victims okay? and look, once this gets out on the news he's not going to have that platform anymore okay? in fact he'll probably hate that he came on here because he's going to be even more infamous than if he had stayed anonymous. we can only be real and truthful going forward so that those poor kids are validated in their feelings. he's going to be put away for a long long time now and he's not gonna have the chance to pull any more of that shit okay?"
she's sniffling into your shirt, listening to you talk and soothe her. you continue whispering sweet reassurances into the night, waiting for her to calm down.
she sniffles again, finally looking up at you, eyes red and snot dribbling out of her nose, your heart aches, "can we go out tomorrow? just us, like old times."
you smile at her request, nodding and pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead, "of course baby. we can go do whatever you want. i promise i'll be yours for the whole day."
she's smiling, thanking you softly and closing her eyes. you wait to hear the her breath slow into quiet even snores before you stop stroking her hair, just holding her against you and closing your own eyes. drifting off to sleep with the adorable mimimimi sound she lets out only when she's exhausted and sleeping well.
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the next morning the both of you wake up around 10am, a comfortable time that allowed you to sleep-in, but not so much that you'd miss out on the entire day.
some producers stop by to check in on sana and go through a small debrief of everything that's happened and what they have left to film in the show.
you can tell she's still a little on edge and wants to get away from everything as fast as possible so you politely ask the producers for time off today and to leave the both of you alone until tomorrow since no filming was happening anyway.
eventually, they're leaving and sana's throwing on casual white pants, a light cardigan on top of a knit button-up, sunnies, grabbing her prada handbag and she's ready to go.
you're lucky you have so many things at your disposal, even multiple cars in the garage to pick from as you grab a random set of keys and click unlock. spotting a white convertible respond with its headlights flashing twice and leading sana towards the car, hopping in. sana's mood has already improved greatly, bubbling with excitement as she lists off some names of a couple restaurants you could try in town for lunch. you smile at her nodding along and humming as you start the engine, pulling out of the garage and onto the valley road, turning on the radio and laughing at the way sana almost jumps out of her seat, neck craning up, eyes closing, letting the wind sprinkled with a hint of sea salt blow through her hair, breathing in a deep breath of satisfaction.
you know you're meant to keep your eyes on the road but it was empty anyway and sana looked so so beautiful. you traced the slope of her nose, down to the curve of her lips as she smiles, the sharp lines of her jaw, and the smooth plane of skin at her neck.
she's peeking an eye open at you, laughing when you realise you've been caught, her giggle high and airy. you loved her so much. and it was getting harder and harder to say that to her without it meaning something a little more.
you're pulling into town soon, she's babbling excitedly and pointing at things that interest her with the curiosity of a child, you're trying to find parking and smoothly drive into an angled spot just in front of the restaurant you had both decided on.
you're jumping out of the car and running to the other side to get her door, and she's giggling and smiling when you take her hand, pressing a sweet kiss to her knuckles, and helping her out of the car.
you enter the bustling shop hand in hand, smiling kindly at the waiter who greets you and ushers you to a table situated next to a large window, allowing a picturesque view into the bay area with a couple fishing boats coming back in after an early morning.
you continue your act of chivalry, pulling out her chair before she sits, and then walking over to take your own seat across from her.
you both glance over the menu enjoying the hum of a busy eatery.
"do you know what you want yet y/n?"
the words on the menu were quickly meshing together, lots of french and seafood terms you wouldn't be able to take a first guess at the meaning of. you pout and shake your head.
she giggles at your antics, "it's okay i'll order for us." she's waving over the same waiter who greeted you at the door, then listing off a few menu items, her french sounding poised and elegant, though you knew she had not-so-secretly spent a year obsessing over french ballet and had even taken up a few lessons herself, only to realise she was much too clumsy to continue it. she had thanked your mutual friend mina for the gracious lessons but resorted to attempting to learn french as an outlet for her obsession.
"-leave out the pickles in everything. and that'll be all thankyou."
your heart picks up a little at the small gesture. you despised anything with pickles in it, and she knew that, making sure you wouldn't have to pick out any of those sickly green slices.
you smile in thanks when the waiter leaves with your order, only to come back quickly afterwards with a bottle of chardonnay which she pours into two elegantly carved wine glasses she's brought along with her.
you raise your eyebrows at sana, questioning the alcohol, but she only sits forward, propping an elbow up on the table and leaning her head into it with a smile.
"day drinking?"
"what? i'll drink yours if you don't want it."
you roll your eyes at her affectionately, taking the glass and sipping, humming at the sweet and tangy bitterness that fills your mouth.
she copies your actions with a beam, setting her glass back down and licking her lips. you follow the action.
"is there anything else specific that you wanted to do today?" you're asking her, taking another sip from your glass.
"mm, not really. i don't mind as long as i'm with you."
"glad to know you're feeling well enough again to flirt."
"oh always with you baby. you're the only one for me."
"that's a bold faced lie and you know it."
she pouts at that, and you can't help yourself, leaning forward and pressing lightly on her bottom lip.
"stop that. put that back in there."
she licks your finger and you hiss, pulling away quickly in mock disgust while she laughs, "please you've made me suck on your fingers and now you're grossed out?"
the waiter decides to come with your first dish at that exact moment, a light dusting of pink on her cheeks as she overheard sana's comment, you don't fare much better when you flare up in embarrassment, hastily wiping your finger on your skirt and babbling out a loud thank you to the waiter.
you glare at sana who's trying her hardest not to laugh, no shame whatsoever, shaking in her seat at the effort of keeping it in, her lips pursed and eyes twinkling.
"you're so going to get it when we get back." you mumble as you stab into a mussel on the plate in front of you.
"awwwwh poor baby's embarrassed, don't worry, mommy will make it better."
your fork drops at the term and you feel yourself going extraordinarily red. she's laughing now, loud and boisterous, drawing the attention of a few onlookers and you throw your napkin at her, whining and slinking back into your chair trying to hide your face.
it's a few seconds after you've folded you arms across your chest and tucked your chin in, willing the heat in your cheeks to go away while staring into your lap, that sana's stopped laughing.
she picks up a mussel with her fork and holds it out to you, leaning forward onto the table again, eyes bright making an 'ahh' sound.
you turn your head, not giving her the satisfaction of paying her attention, but she's persistent, "c'mon y/n. i'm sorry i won't tease anymore i promise."
it's no surprise that you can't resist her, rolling your eyes and opening your mouth, accepting the fleshy piece of seafood and chewing. she's smiling and poking her own piece to put in her mouth, humming at the taste and making sure it was to your liking as well.
the rest of lunch is spent like this, playful and fun, it's good to be able to feel like yourselves again after all the hectic film shooting.
you're standing up to grab the bill after you're both finished when sana shakes her head at you, "i got it already don't worry."
"huh? what do you mean?"
"i told the waiter earlier in french so you wouldn't know. just let me treat this time? i still haven't really been able to thank you for coming along with me for this."
"what? sana this was like... a one hundred dollar meal at least. don't be silly let me pay you back."
she's humming and putting her cardigan back on, standing up and walking in front of you, "pay me back by winning something for me at the arcade?"
you sigh, grumbling along as she giggles at you, taking your hand and leading you out of the restaurant, thanking your waiter who still looks a little off-put by you, and walking down the street to where you had spotted the small arcade earlier.
you purchase a hefty amount of arcade tokens and get straight into all the classics. sana just barely won air hockey against you, jumping and whooping with every goal, you have to take off your jacket midway through the game, sweating as you try and focus on hitting the little puck. you get her back on the dance machines though, you can't keep in the laugh when she somehow ends up sprawled on the floor, limbs tangled and missing every following beat.
you cycle through the arcade, speeding through mario kart and midnight run, shooting with abysmal accuracy at the gun games, trying your hand at some of the more unique japanese arcade games they have (which sana completely destroys you at), and eventually ending up at the wide variety of claw machines.
sana's pulling you towards one with spy x family collectibles, and you furrow your eyebrows in concentration as you try to get the small anya keychain for her.
she's giving you instructions from the side of the machine, trying to give you as much perspective as possible before the time runs out and the claw drops. you wait with baited breath as it grabs the keychain, comes back up with a whir, and then... the keychain falls out at the bump at the top of the machine.
you don't even hesitate when you push in another token, determined to win this one thing.
sana's with you the whole way, her reactions only getting more and more expressive with each loss.
you're probably on your 9th try, the claw grabs onto the keychain, lifts it up, and with a whoop the keychain's falling successfully into the claim box. sana's caterwauling and jumping into your arms and you lift her up in glee, spinning her around once before setting her back down. you bend down to pick up the keychain, presenting it to sana with a flourish, and then she's kissing your cheek and squeezing you against her in a hug, thank yous spilling out of her in rapid succession.
you giggle against her, hugging back, relishing in the contact.
after you exchange your arcade tickets for prizes, you head down towards the docks, stopping for some ice cream before making it to the boardwalk.
there are a few other couples doing the same thing, and when you nod politely to an elderly couple holding hands, you're hit with the abrupt realisation that you and sana must look like a couple right now. unless people were homophobic, then you'd just be a couple of close friends, maybe roommates.
you're suddenly hyperaware of the sweat starting to collect on your palm, releasing her hand and wiping it on your skirt when she looks at you with a cocked head, mid-lick of her ice cream cone, eyes wide.
you switch your own ice cream cone to your other hand so it looks like you had an excuse to let go, avoiding her questioning gaze.
eventually you both decide to sit down at the end of the boardwalk, legs dangling over the edge and looking out across the bay. there weren't any boats currently docked in so you had a clear view of the blue vastness in front of you.
sana's leaning in and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.
"...what?"
she doesn't speak, her eyes darting down to your own ice cream cone and back up.
you roll your eyes and hold it out for her.
she's grinning and sticking out her tongue to lick a long strip along the side of your cone, humming in satisfaction.
"wanna try mine?"
"i'm okay thanks."
she's pouting and you can't have that so you lean in and lick some of hers, cringing at the overly sweet taste of artificial fairy floss but the smile she gives you afterwards makes up for it.
you both sit back and enjoy the light afternoon breeze, a calming presence after the hectic running around you did at the arcade.
"i missed this." sana speaks up first.
"me too."
"things have been pretty crazy with the house. i'm really glad that you're here with me though."
you turn to her and smile, "i'm glad you let me come."
"of course. the home visits later on are gonna get a little crazy. every season those are always full of drama."
"do you know who you want to end up there yet? your final four?"
she hums, thinking for a little, "still not really. we have... nine- wait no, eight since wonsik's a pedophile. so jacky, eunji, jihyo, momo, jun, jiwon, nayeon, and dae."
"it's a good mix i think. they all have different types of chemistry with you."
you're distracted by a buzz on your phone, taking it out and opening your messages.
miyeon: y/n!!!!! i just saw the news about wonsik! its everywhere rn r u guys okay?
"who's that?" sana's looking at your with a curious lilt in her voice.
you hesitate to respond, knowing how she reacted the last time you and miyeon were together.
"oh just my uncle. he's asking what to get my mum for her birthday later. you'd think he'd know since they're siblings but..." you trail off, typing a quick response back to miyeon.
y/n: it was crazy no one saw it coming! the producers called off filming today.. probably so they can deal with all the legal disputes that'll come up bcs of this
you tuck your phone back into your jacket, ignoring the new messages you get. you could respond to miyeon later. today was meant for you and sana.
sana's sighing and leaning her head on your shoulder, "wish i wore swimmers. it's such nice weather and the water looks soo good."
"we can head back and go for a swim in the pool if you want? we haven't had a chance to use it yet. may as well get the most out of being the main character on this show."
she's up in seconds, grinning, all fatigue gone as she practically prances back towards the car, only turning back to yell at you to hurry up.
you beam at her, running to catch up, laughing and smiling, just the two of you.
⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆
sana's yelping when you cannonball into the deep end of the pool, splashing her with cold water in your wake.
"y/n!!"
you break the surface grinning and laughing, trying to splash more water on her.
"sto- stop! y/n oh my god-"
"hurry uppppppp! it's not cold if you get it over and done with!"
"no! i need to put on sunscreen first!"
"sunscreen? it's 4pm!"
"there are still UV rays at this time! i don't want to die from skin cancer and if you're a good girl you'll get out and let me put sunscreen on you too."
you narrow your eyes at her while she's lathering her legs with the white cream.
you decide to ignore her, diving into the pool and resurfacing a few times, splashing around by yourself while she takes her sweet time. to be honest, you're glad for the coolness the pool offers you, when sana first stepped out in her pale yellow bikini, you had felt your cheeks blush all the way up to the tips of your ears. you'd avoided her gaze quickly, instead opting for racing her outside and jumping in right away.
now that she wasn't watching you though, you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted over to her. she had finished with her legs and was now applying lotion to her arms. you traced the outline of her-
"y/n!"
you startle in the water, and she's looking at you curiously when you make a sort of weird strangled sound and water goes swashing around. "y-yeah?" you clear your throat, hoping you weren't as red as you felt.
"can you help with my back? i can't reach." she's looking at you with a dangerous pout, eyes pleading.
you mumble incoherently as you swim towards the shallow end, stepping out of the pool and grabbing the sunscreen bottle from her, gesturing for her to turn around while she grins at you.
you squirt some of the lotion onto your hand, rubbing it diligently into her back. you knew how much she cared for her skin, and even though you cared significantly less for your own, it mattered to her so you had to make sure you did a good job.
the problem arose when you started reaching her lower back. the pressure you've been applying becomes considerably less when you realise just how close you are to sana's ass. sana's very very attractive ass, only emphasised in these bikini bottoms.
"feeling shy y/n?"
"s-shut up."
"you can do my ass too if you want y'know. it's not like it's anything you haven't felt before."
you can picture the cheeky smirk on her face while you recap the sunscreen bottle after you're finished. and really, you just felt like you had to do something about that so before you know it, a hand's coming down and smacking her, a loud resounding slap followed closely by sana's yelp.
you're jumping back into the pool, trying to push the image of her cheeks rippling in the most perfect way to the very back of your mind.
when you break the surface again with a bubbly laugh she's still standing by the side of the pool, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face.
"did you just spank me y/n?"
you stick your tongue out her in defiance, sending a splash of water her way.
"oh you are so dead!" she's jumping in now, and you're scrambling away trying to put as much distance between you two as possible. but she closes in quickly, tackling you underwater and pulling you down so you're both submerged.
you're grinning and then you're laughing, but not in a good way because her fingers are at your sides tickling you and digging into all of the sensitive points in your body she's discovered over the time you've known each other.
you spend the next few minutes trying to one up one another, droplets of water flying everywhere, noisy screeches and laughs sounding out. you're lucky this mansion of a house was situated in the valleys with no neighbours or you most definitely would've gotten a noise complaint.
eventually, you decide to call a truce, cheeks sore from smiling, stomach sore from laughing. you float onto your back, closing your eyes and letting out a loud sigh in comfort. you can feel sana floating next to you, your heads next to each other, hearts beating in tandem.
she’s speaking up after a minute, "cats or dogs?"
you snort, "i don't mind."
you can hear the whine in her voice, "just pick one."
you hum thinking about it for a little, "whatever suits my lifestyle better i guess. if i'm really busy with work or i have to stay home a lot then probably a cat. but if i have a big backyard or something then probably a dog. knowing me though, i'll probably end up with cats. i'm too lazy to keep up with the energy dogs have."
"not with me though right?"
"what? of course not with you. also, you're not a dog sana."
"people say i look like a shiba inu."
"that's not the same thing."
she giggles a little before sighing, "you suit cats. okay. it's decided. we're getting a cat when we go home."
"huh?!"
she's breaking into high-pitched laughter again and you can only find yourself to be slightly concerned over whether she's being serious or not. you could deal with that at a much later date though. you drift back into a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the night wildlife slowly wake up in the valleys next to you.
"y/n?"
"hmm?"
"i love you."
your eyes are opening now, heart rate picking up. there's no reason to panic right? she meant it as a friend. a friend. so why was it so hard to say it back to her? as a friend?
instead, you say, "enjoy our date that much minatozaki?"
she doesn't respond with the same teasing tone you're expecting, "i really did." all honest and pure.
you're gulping, "...me too."
you know she's standing when you feel light waves push against your body, so you lift yourself up, looking at her puzzled, but she only goes to stand in front of you, grabbing your arms and wrapping them around her waist.
you let her, squeezing slightly and dropping your head onto her shoulder, your eyes drinking in the pinks and oranges of the sunrise.
"you're not gonna say it back?"
you stiffen behind her, "what?"
"you know what."
she's tightening her hold around you even before you try to subconsciously escape.
you let out an almost-laugh breath, "...i love you too sana."
"was that so hard?" she's turning now, pupils dilated when they meet yours, pink lips slightly parted, noses almost touching.
you're shaking your head no, breath caught up in your throat.
a crinkle appears between her eyebrows, you have the urge to smooth it out, "are you lying?"
another shake of your head.
you feel her breath against your lips as she lets out a soft exhale, the tightening of her hands against your forearms helping ground you, if only slightly.
"i hope one day you'll be able to tell me the truth." you're confused, what was she talking about? "for now i guess this is fine." and then she's leaning in and pressing her lips against yours.
its almost an automatic reaction now. your mouth is moving against hers even before your brain registers you're kissing.
she's sweet, she always is. but this kiss is a little different. it's not filled with passion or heat, not like all your previous kisses that have always led to tangled limbs and heavy breaths. it's soft, tender, like she's trying to tell you something with her lips. you just weren't particularly versed in this form of sana communication yet to be able to tell what that was.
when she breaks away, the sun is dipping behind the horizon, her forehead leaned against yours, breaths coming in shorter after the lack of air.
she shivers a little when a cool gust of wind starts up.
"inside?" you ask.
she nods, letting you go, and following you out of the pool to dry off.
the rest of the night, even when you end up sprawled on messy sheets, sweat coating your bodies and arms around each other, your lips still tingle from her kiss in the pool. you fall asleep dreaming of small kittens, ice-cream, and sana.
#sana#minatozaki sana#twice sana#sana x reader#sana x f!reader#sana x fem!reader#twice x reader#twice x f!reader#twice x fem!reader#twice imagines#sana imagines#royaltozaki
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privacy please // colby brock
A/N: me, posting more than once a month??? INCREDIBLE. i was midway thru writing "let's fall in love for tonight" when this idea popped into my head and i just had to write it down. part of this is inspired by a tiktok i saw of a girl talking about a time she was hooking up with a guy. i wish i could find the tiktok and share it with you all bc the moment she said what she said.... i just knew i had to include it in a fic at some point lol so shoutout to that girl. this is a short fic/blurb bc i have some other fics lined up that are gonna be full blown smut so i don't want to tucker myself out writing smut only. and if you see me using what happens in this fic in other fics.... say nothing sksks lmk what you think and i'll see you guys next time <3
prompt: you and colby just want some privacy, but the only place you can get it is in his car. || fem!reader x colby brock
trigger warning: light smut (no actual sex), cursing, making out in a car, fluff, already established relationship
word count: 1363
~~~~~~~~
"This is so ridiculous." Colby groaned, pulling away from our kiss.
I giggled, staring up at his annoyed face. "No it's not, it's kinda fun."
"How is this fun? I feel like I'm gonna pull a hamstring." He scoffed.
I sassed him, rolling my eyes. "Well, it's your fault you don't have a car big enough for your five foot eleven ass."
"I don't think I was meant to lay out horizontally in my car." He replied back, just as snarky.
"Well, blame Toyota," I sat up on my elbows, huffing. Does he think I'm comfortable in this cramped back seat? "Or better yet, Sam and Kat for wanting to have their friends over when all we want to do is fuck."
"Maybe if you weren't so loud, we could have sex in my room without everyone knowing." Colby raised an eyebrow at me daringly. I could see his bottom lip quiver as he tried to hold back a laugh.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You never seemed to have a problem with my screaming before. I'll gladly remember next time you're begging me to say your name to be quiet."
He gasped, legitimately upset. "Begging?! I don't beg."
"'C'mon baby, say my name.'" I mocked in a deep voice. "What's that sound like to you?"
"Commanding!" He barked.
"Not when you're breathy it ain't!" I jeered sarcastically.
Colby sat up quickly, pouting jokingly. He kept my legs on his lap, his hands cupping my ankles. I sighed deeply, smiling up at the ceiling of the car. "Are you really not enjoying this?"
He chuckled, the 'tension' in the car defusing. "I enjoy any time I get to be alone with you."
I hummed, "Good to know. I think this is kinda exciting. It feels like I'm a teenager again, sneaking around with a boyfriend my mom doesn't know about."
"Am I, like, your edgy boyfriend?" He questioned, side eyeing me.
"Oh yeah. You have tattoos, wear all black, curse, drink..." I gasped, "Oh my God, you're, like, so cool."
Colby bit his lip, staring at me intensely. "Get over here."
He grabbed my wrists lightly, pulling me up. I straddled him, a soft grunt falling from his lips as a I settled onto his lap. "Much better." He murmured.
I studied his face for a moment, taking in all the little details I could. The way his hair fell, covering his forehead. The lovely shape of his eyebrows, manicured without him trying - which was honestly the most annoying thing about him. He also had surprisingly long eyelashes for a man, something I was jealous about as well. His eyes - which of course were to die for. So blue and deep. I had stared into them so many times I had lost count. I never saw the end of them, never studied them long enough to know every intricate detail about them. I don't think there would ever be enough time to do that.
"Hi." Colby whispered, softly smiling.
A light blush came to my cheeks, "Hi."
My hands cupped his face sweetly, his eyes closing at the feeling. I gazed at his cheeks; how adorable they were. I would try my best to remind him that even though he didn't like them himself, I enjoyed his "chubby" cheeks. His dimples. Oh my GOD, his dimples. If I could, I would take a picture of every time I was able to make his dimples appear. I would fill a whole photo album of just his face smiling. And I can't forget his nose. His nose was so... masculine, in an interesting way. It fit his face perfectly. Angular with a slight point.
And then of course his lips. I've had dreams of just kissing him. Of just staring at his mouth. Sometimes it's hard to pay attention to him when he talks because all I can think about is his lips and what they've done to me, and what they plan to do.
He laced his fingers through mine, finally breaking the silence in the car. "What's going on in that head of yours? You look so lost in thought."
"I'm just... looking at you." I confessed.
"You like what you see?" He mumbled.
"Love." I emphasized.
He nodded his head, his eyes filled with adoration. He rested his forehead against mine, our lips brushing. His hand slid out of mine, meeting his other on the small of my back. "You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me."
"The feeling is completely mutual." I agreed.
"Good to know...." He leaned in and pecked my lips gently, almost taking my breath away. He pushed my body into his, pressing me as closely as he could. I deepened the kiss, my fingers tugging on his hair. His tongue slid into my mouth, a moan leaving my lips. My hips naturally grinded down onto him, his hands gripping my waist a little harder from the friction.
He moved his mouth from mine, kissing down my neck and finding the perfect spot in seconds. I lulled my head back, allowing him to attack my neck with his lips and tongue and teeth. I whimpered, my hips bucking against his. He pushed his up, grinding just against the right spot to make my breath hitch. I could feel him getting harder under me, pressing against me in the most sinful way. His hands drifted to my thighs, rubbing up and down them.
"You know..." Colby chimed in, breathlessly. "I really love these fishnets."
I uttered, in a daze. "Wha-?"
He continued his motions, causing goosebumps to form on my skin, "I really like that you wear fishnets. They look so sexy on you."
I cleared my throat, finally able to think again. "Um, thank you."
"It's too bad they just take forever to get off." He somewhat grumbled, dropping his head.
I shrugged halfheartedly. "Yeah, I guess."
"How many pairs do you have?" He asked, looking back up at me.
"Of fishnets? Like five or so." I guessed.
Colby nodded. "And how much was this pair?
"What?" I squinted at him, confused. He blinked, wanting me to continue. "Uh, they were like $25."
"Okay...." He paused, his hands resting on top of my thighs. "Remind me to pay you back."
Before I could say anything, Colby's grip tightened on the fishnets. His fingers laced through the holes in the material. He pulled his arms back, ripping the fishnets with ease. I shuttered at his action, gasping in awe, anger, and lust at seeing him tear them without any problems. Feeling them rip from my body, my skin now exposed, caused heat to rush to my sex. My underwear grew even more wet as my eyes met his dark ones.
"Colby! What the fuck?!" I yelled.
"Don't tell me you didn't like that." He grew close to my face, his voice lowering, "Don't lie to me, baby."
I stammered, trying to form words under his lustful gaze. "T-That's not the point. What are you, an animal?"
"Only with you, darling." He whispered harshly.
My breath raced as I glared into Colby's eye. He had such a devilish look to him, and while I was pissed he would rip my favorite tights, it was also extremely hot.
"Fuck, I hate you." I yanked his face forward, forcing his lips onto mine deeply. He smirked against the kiss, humming a response playfully. I snaked my tongue into his mouth, needing to taste him.
He pulled away, catching his breath at my expense. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can't exactly get on top of you."
"If you have to fuck me in the trunk, then so be it. I just need you to do it now." I gripped his shirt, wanting it off his body.
He laughed darkly. "I don't know... you're demanding a lot for someone that's very breathy."
"Colby, don't fucking tease me." I grabbed his hand, sliding it into my underwear and putting his fingers against my heat. I breathed, "I'm so wet for you."
He swallowed hard, his pupils dilating. "Okay... I think we can manage something."
#colby brock#colby brock x reader#colby brock blurb#colby brock smut#colby brock fluff#colby brock fanfic#colby brock fic#colby brock fanfiction#colby brock one shot#colby brock oneshot
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synopsis. gojo satoru always wins.
wc. 880
tags. gojo x reader, fluff, spoilers for 236, possible spelling mistakes I have not proofread this (do I ever?)
a/n. currently clearing out all my old wips. i've already written this in a different version I think but idc bc if i write about him coming home enough times he will eventually do it. my next few works are probs going to be my rich boy!gojo drafts
there was a brief moment when the world stilled. the air was squeezed from your lungs as everything around you slowly began to spin and you weren’t sure the last time you had slept – had it been that long that the hallucinations were finally starting to kick in?
“oh my god.” those were the only words you could utter in your state of disbelief. you couldn’t close your eyes: you couldn’t risk him disappearing. if you were brave enough, you’d reach out to trace the new scars carved into his porcelain skin.
“you can’t say that, you know how my ego is,” gojo looked as gorgeous as ever, arm raised as he leant against the doorframe of his apartment. the same apartment you’d set up camp in nineteen days ago and had only left when yuuji brought you some food. you’d lost too much to process and you were a shell of the person gojo had kissed goodbye to before he left for shibuya. there were deep purple bags under your eyes, your hair was loosely tied back in a messy bun that probably hadn’t been properly washed or brushed in several days and your clothes were probably just gojo’s – you’d been desperate for some sense of familiarity.
he looked like he hadn’t just been sealed away in another realm. the only evidence of a struggle were his new scars that seemed to decorate every inch of available skin, beyond that he looked excited to be alive, his fitted clothes clinging to him. his cursed energy was terrifyingly immense and you knew him well enough to know he was still riding off of a high that came with fighting for him.
you were scared to ask who had been the opponent – never would the world’s strongest sorcerer be injured and not cause equal amounts of harm in return. he had a title to uphold after all, something to prove.
“not even a hello?” he shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he tsked you. he was so casual in his mannerisms, playing it all off as though he hadn’t spent what felt like an eternity counting down the seconds so that he could see you again. “you can’t have forgotten me that quickly.” he was practically whining now, desperate for the love and warmth you gave him but not daring to cross the threshold and smother you.
you weren’t a sorcerer and though you understood some of his world, there was so much more that you didn’t. gojo would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared that one day it would be too overwhelming for you and you’d leave him like everyone else had.
so he did what he did best: masked his insecurities with a sarcastic humour that held no bite: “don’t tell me there’s another man in the house.”
you smiled, and blinked, and you were suddenly here again; in the moment with him and not a thousand miles away wondering what the hell he’d been through. a lone tear slipped down your cheek and gojo ached to wipe it away.
“are you… are you real?” your voice was still shaky and if it wasn’t for the complete silence, you doubted that he would’ve been able to hear you.
but he did, and then his arm is up against the doorframe again and he was gesturing to his physique as he complimented himself, “super powerful, mega rich and dashingly handsome? i know how perfect i may seem but i’m very real.” he winked and suddenly it was like you remembered that you have free will, practically jumping into his arms.
gojo wasn’t phased as he tucked you tightly into his body, his cursed technique completely dropped for the first time in what felt like forever. his body breathed a sigh of relief as his muscles ached.
“you’re such a jackass,” you lifted up your head to rest against his chest, eyes shining with tears that didn't fall.
gojo nodded slowly, brushing back the loose strands of your hair as he stared at you adoringly, “you love me.”
“mhmm,” you hummed, taking a step back from his longing arms to look up at him through your lashes. “y’know,” you traced a finger across the material on his chest, “you could make it up to me by closing your eyes.” his breath hitched ever so slightly under your touch. you leant in so that your lips almost touched his ear, “i need to kick my boytoy out. things could get kinda awkward if you two saw each other.”
it would be easier to list the things gojo wouldn’t do for you. he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, even going as far as to hold a hand over them. “how pretty is he on a scale of 1-10?”
there was a pause before you responded, as you took in every inch of the man that stood before you. a god in a mortal’s body. one that lived and breathed and worshipped you. “he’s gorgeous,” you whispered, breathless simply from his existence alone.
and then he’s smiling and laughing and picking you up, spinning you in a circle and telling you how much he loves you and for a few brief seconds he’s just satoru and you’re just his.
#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo drabbles#jjk gojo#jjk 236#jjk spoilers#gojo imagines#gojo fluff#satoru
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JULY 11
I have been crowdfunding for two full months now, and have managed to raise $4100 total! That is absolutely amazing, and never could have happened without the support of everyone on Tumblr. Thank you so much to everyone continuing to share my post, and an especially big thank you to those who donated. I have just under $3,000 in direct debt currently, and I have until December 1 to find a new place to live, regardless of if I have been placed by BC Housing into housing whose rent is geared to my disability income. Vancouver rents are about $2,000/month for 1 bedroom, I don't have a prayer of keeping a roof over my head without donations.
So that's where I am now, to be clear, the money not spent directly on debt was spent on food, monthly bills, and transit. Even so, I ended up needing to take out payday loans to get through this month, and am out of funds for now.
I have more appointments and transit costs than ever right now, and with time running out to clear my debts before I'm on my own I'm really feeling the strain. There is much more information on the gofundme page, I also, of course, have my original post, which I am retiring because it seems to have lost traction now.
I'd appreciate anything anyone has to offer, from $1-$5 on paypal, to $5+ on gofundme, literally ANYTHING helps. I feel abandoned and alone and I don't know what to do other than beg the public for help. Please.
#canpoli#actually autistic#Canada Disability Benefit#mutual aid#Black tumblr#blm#disability aid#vancouver#pwd#Housingforall#Crowdfund#vanpoli#C22#disability
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ VIGNETTES — levi ackerman
contents. sfw, mention of pregnancy & marriage, angst, maybe unrequited love, fem!reader, 1.8k
notes. there is no dialogue in this, and it's purely poetic and prose because i wanted to do something different & levi is very important to me. posting this before i get nervous bc i feel as if i have poured too much of myself into this. idk if anyone will want to read it, but enjoy anyway !
you fell in love with levi ackerman the moment you met him.
you fell in love with him in the underground, when you were both still young, his brashness and strength intimidating to even you, a member of the survey corps. the way your eyes had met through the filth and the grime, levi restrained, teeth bared, an image of a flame that refused to be put out. against every intelligent bone in your body, your heart had stuttered in your chest at the fierceness in his deep blue eyes, the way that, even when he was narrowing his gaze at you with something of hatred, he was still the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.
you fell in love with him in training, when you watched a man who had never had any proper guidance become the strongest soldier that the survey corps had ever seen. levi was at home in the skies, free from the restraints and the waste that he had been born into, a natural when it came to odm gear. though he scoffed at you every time you tried to give him any pointers, you still felt some warmth in your face—he never needed any advice from you, anyway. it was just an excuse to talk to him.
you fell in love with him when he lost his friends, the first time you’d had a conversation with him that didn’t end in a sour remark, an expression that made you think he saw you as nothing more than a military pawn. you’d let your mouth fall open, and then you’d shut it, a mumble of condolences coming out, before you’d admitted, hastily, that you knew what it was like to lose your only friends. but something changed in levi after the death of furlan and isabel—he wasn’t just a flame, he was a forest fire, rearing bright and deadly.
you fell in love with him when he became a captain, a man of status that allowed him to hand pick the members of his squad. and though you thought you’d be stuck where you were, not standing a chance to be chosen for a squad of the strongest scouts, you’d been the first on levi’s list. perhaps, it was only because of the kinship he felt towards you, but you’d never be able to forget the way you’d smiled on your way home from the meeting, your new assignment reigniting the sort of giddiness you hadn’t felt since you were a schoolgirl with a crush.
you fell in love with him when you understood him. when the bite that followed the end of his every sentence didn’t seem so menacing, so sharp when you realized that your words held just the same amount of bitterness. his quips, dripping with sarcasm, fell on your ears lightly, bringing a smile to your lips, spreading across your teeth as everyone else stared back at him like he’d grown two heads. levi would meet your gaze across the room and you’d swap a secret, a loathing for the system, even if you’d always be grateful that it brought you together.
you fell in love with him even when someone else proposed to you, a member of another squad that had been in love with you since you were cadets. where he’d gotten the courage after all those years, you weren’t sure. perhaps it was because he’d seen the way you stared at levi, or maybe it was because you drew closer to death every time you ventured outside the walls. you’d said yes in a panic, a regret that you’d never forget, because you were so afraid of being alone that you’d never considered that levi might have loved you too.
you fell in love with him when eren jaeger came into the picture, and suddenly, all your quiet moments with levi didn’t seem to mean a thing, not when there was a new hope for humanity, and if you could just save this boy, keep him alive, then maybe you could be free. but levi turned a blind eye to you once you got married. his secret smiles were sparse, his eyes darkening when he lost soldier after soldier, but never you. suddenly, you were the last of the levi's original squad, but you might as well have been dead too, for you felt like a ghost in your own unit.
you fell in love with him even when a ring rested on your finger, a glittering gold band that was too pretty to be worn by a such a gruesome soldier. levi’s eyes drew to it, sometimes, and it sickened you, made you want to cut off your own finger and feed it to a titan, because how shameful it was to have given yourself over to something you had never wanted. you went home to your husband, the one you didn’t love, and dreamed of a man with pretty blue eyes, born from nothing and known by all.
you’d always be in love with levi ackerman. he’d just never be in love with you.
levi ackerman fell in love with you the moment he met you.
he fell in love with you in the underground, the emotion hitting him like a tidal wave, unfamiliar after years of feeling nothing but the need to survive. when his eyes lifted, finally meeting yours with just feet between you, the sight of you had nearly taken his breath away. you were beautiful, more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen in his entire life, and suddenly, he understood how furlan could drone on and on about the woman he’d slept with, because levi could’ve written paragraphs about the way your steel coated tenderness could force even the strongest men to their knees.
he fell in love with you in training, when you moved so smoothly, with so much more gracefulness than levi’s brash, aggressive movements. levi knew he’d picked up most things better and faster than anyone in the survey corps, but he was certain he didn’t look as angelic as you did slicing through the neck of a titan. perhaps he didn’t understand the reason you so dutifully followed orders, turning a blind eye to the darker side of the military. yet, there was something about you, something that drew levi to you and made him wonder if there was more to your polite smiles and softened voice that he wasn’t catching onto.
he fell in love with you when he lost his friends, and you were the first person to acknowledge that he was, truly, alone. no attempts were made to sugarcoat it, to say that at least you still have the scouts, when none of them could’ve understood the depth of levi’s pain, the way he’d dreamt a better life for isabel and furlan that would never come to pass. your smile was, he’d thought, brighter than even the sun, the fiery emblem that he’d longed for his entire life. maybe the two of you were bad at understanding each other, but levi loved listening to you… even when you didn’t quite love listening to yourself. he could’ve sat for hours and heard everything you had to say, for you kept it to yourself too often.
he fell in love with you when he became a captain, and he knew that he’d do anything to keep you close to him. you were a puzzle he couldn’t unravel, hot and cold and everything in between. you were a beacon of light, warm and welcoming, and yet, you kept people at a distance, facing the dark side of the planets that no one but you could see. you were gracious and caring, vocal about your hope for humanity, sparing love where you could, even if you shied away from it. there was something gentle about you, but when levi made a crude remark, you were the first to laugh, the first to drop your guard and speak to him without the upbeat inflection in your voice.
he fell in love with you when he understood you, and he saw that whatever hollow shape his heart had turned into, yours slotted right within it. there was something about you that was the same, your souls crafted from one star, slowly dying, but burning bright, intimidating and loathsome, all at once. if levi believed in soulmates, in the fate that was written in the constellations, he was certain yours would’ve been intertwined, beautiful and lonely, sides of a coin that seemed the very same.
he fell in love with you when someone else proposed to you, the expression on your face telling levi everything he needed to known. you could’ve been happy with that man—he was cheerful and tender, loving and sweet—everything that levi was not. a human obvious with his affections, and perhaps, levi had been wrong all these years in thinking that you were the one for him. how could you be, when he saw the way your fiancé worshipped the very ground you walked on, kissed you without caring who was watching. levi could never be that sort of man. not when he was so private and silent, his love shown only in the way he protected you without fail, spoke to you in secrets he would never share with anyone else.
he fell in love with you when eren jaeger came into the picture, and levi screwed his head back on straight, deciding he could no longer pine for a woman that was already married. he threw his mind back into a war, reminding himself that happiness was fleeting, but loneliness was not, and he needed to get used to that. levi lost the members of his squad, people he'd grown to call friends. still, he refused to speak with you, because he knew that he was a weak man. a softly spoken word from your lips would’ve broken everything levi had worked to protect himself from, the gripping emotion within his heart that wouldn't leave unless it cut it out with your own blade.
he fell in love with you even when a ring rested on your finger, and you requested to leave the scouts because you were expecting a child. levi tried to stop his face from falling, tried to ignore the twisting of his chest. because, maybe, he’d stood a chance when there was nothing but a sheet of paper protecting your marriage, but a child...? levi ackerman was a selfish man, but not to that point. not when he knew he’d be a terrible father anyway, that he was a fool for thinking that was a life he deserved. levi accepted your request, and then asked you be taken off his squad if you ever chose to return. erwin, for all his lack of tact, had said nothing, simply nodding at levi with something akin to pity.
levi would always be in love with you. you’d just never be in love with him.
#levi x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x female reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi x you#xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#levi ackerman angst#levi ackerman x fem!reader#levi imagine#levi headcanons#levi drabble#aot x female reader#aot x reader#aot x you#snk x reader#snk x you#attack on titan x female reader#attack on titan fanfiction
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