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chvoswxtch · 5 months

Note

A fic where reader likes Aaron but is like 20 years younger than him (I checked the math, even at the start of the show, he was 43 so that wouldn't have been weird. Unless u find that weird? Pretend i said 10 years if that weirds u out) and she thinks she doesn't have a chance with him and that he wouldn't even consider her. And so she just pines over him with the unrequited crush blues. Maybe hotch seems to "baby" her and be extra protective of her so she chalks it up to being the baby of the team. Meanwhile he does not view her as a baby. At all. And maybe he doesn't even realize he treats her any different. Angst welcome! Definitely romance

She/her pronouns for the fic if u want to do it please 🙏 and thank u 😁

– Zee

MY DARLING ZEE

I have been SO excited to post this one, so thank you for requesting it. as usual, I got carried away, but it's daddy hotch so I apologize for nothing

enjoy ;)

warnings: swearing, lots and lots of angst word count: 4.5k

baby.

Furious didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt currently. The entire cabin of the jet was thick with tension radiating from your barely concealed rage, and for a split second you felt guilty, because the team’s discomfort was more than palpable. But as your gaze wandered to the opposite end of the jet and you caught sight of the culprit of your vexation, brooding heavily in your direction, any sliver of remorse evaporated from your pores and your eyes instantly hardened in response.

Fucking Aaron Hotchner.

Hotch’s thick dark brows were pinched together, creating a crease of annoyance right between them, and his lips were pressed in a line that was harsher than usual, causing his frown lines to settle even deeper into the skin around his mouth. His deep umber eyes were void of any warmth, and there was no evidence of faint mirth creasing around them. Instead his lethal gaze was cold as steel, and as rigorous as stone.

You had seen a more intense version of that look several times before whenever he interviewed unsubs that made monsters look like fairytales, and normally it sent a chill down your spine. Not because you were scared of your boss; quite the opposite actually. Every time you watched him stare down the worst of humanity with an aura of disinterest and a hard glare that showed he was completely unimpressed, you found yourself more and more attracted to him. Especially on the rare occasions when he lost his temper and ended up slamming his hands on the table while yelling in their face. You found that incredibly hot.

From the day you met Hotch for your interview, you had found him attractive. Intimidating as hell, but attractive. The fact that he was your boss didn’t deter you from developing a little crush on him, or the fact that he was a widower with a six year old son. None of that stopped the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach every time he gave you a tiny bit of praise in the form of a “good job”, or a simple nod of approval. In fact, the more Hotch warmed up to you, the worse your little crush got.

You found yourself grinning whenever someone made him crack the tiniest of smiles, and nothing fueled your ego more than his quiet snort whenever you said something he seemed to find funny. Hotch surprisingly had a great sense of humor when the stress of being the unit chief of the B.A.U. wasn’t looming over his head. He could be stubborn and closed off sometimes, and he wasn’t always the best with words, but you could tell by his actions that he truly cared about his team. Unfortunately for you, his treatment revealed exactly how he saw you.

The baby of the team.

It was no secret that’s how the rest of the team saw you too. Derek had been teasingly, but affectionately, referring to you as “Baby Spice” since your first day because you were by far the youngest member of the team and beyond feisty. Spencer even joined in with the nicknames, jokingly calling you “kid” with a proud grin now that he was no longer the youngest, even though there was less than a five year gap between the two of you, which Rossi constantly reminded him of with a smack to the back of his head. At a certain point you realized that Rossi just enjoyed messing with Spencer, but you still grinned at him in appreciation every time he came to your defense.

Even though you were far from being a child, Hotch still treated you differently than the others, which did not go unnoticed by anyone. He was far more protective of you, not allowing you to go anywhere alone when the team was working a case, and he hardly ever wanted you in the interrogation room with unsubs. Only after Emily backed you up, insisting it was important to your training, did he finally allow you to interrogate. But it was under the strict condition that he was always the one in the room with you. He never allowed you to enter a crime scene or a suspected location of an unsub first, and the first time you got injured while on a case, resulting in the tiniest of a cut above your eyebrow, Hotch forced you to take a leave of absence for two weeks.

You made it three days before you burst into his office and demanded that he end your leave.

He didn’t.

Because of the way Hotch seemed to “baby” you, it resulted in the rest of the team doing it too. Emily and JJ weren’t as bad about it, but they definitely put themselves in front of you anytime a situation got dangerous. Derek and Hotch were by far the worst and the most obvious about being overprotective, but Spencer and Rossi weren’t far behind. The only one that ever treated you as an equal was Garcia, and that’s why she was your favorite.

And the only one you confided in about your little crush on your boss. Although, you were sure Emily and JJ had caught on by now. They always flashed you a teasing smirk and a little wink anytime they caught you silently pining.

But that was what seemed to solidify that you would never have a chance with Hotch. Not that he was your boss, or that he had traumatically lost his wife, or that he had a young son, or even the fact that he was a good twenty years older than you. It was that he seemed to view you more as a helpless child than a capable woman.

As soon as the jet landed, you were the first one off. You could hear Hotch’s shoes stomping along the floor of Headquarters right on your heels. While you stopped at your desk to drop off your go bag, fully prepared to get your shit and leave, his angry march continued up the stairs towards his office, but he never once took his irritated glare away from your figure.

“Y/L/N, my office. Now.”

Gritting your teeth hard, you turned your head to shoot daggers in his direction, but he had already disappeared into his office. Disregarding the sympathetic concern from your coworkers, you furiously made your way up the stairs and made a dramatic show of slamming the door to Hotch’s office forcefully behind yourself, which in turn made his eyes narrow into vehement slits as he looked at you. He straightened his back, squaring his shoulders while he stepped around his desk to stand a few feet away from you. He looked absolutely pissed, but you were too lost in your own rage to care.

“You were completely out of line-”

“Oh, bullshit! I was doing my job-”

“I gave you a direct order and you ignored it, putting yourself and the entire team at risk.”

Hotch’s voice rose in volume when you combated his critique, and even though you had spoken over him first, the fact that he was now doing it to you only fueled your anger further. You took a bold step forward and glared up at Hotch as you grit your rebuttal out through your teeth.

“I saved that kid’s life-”

“By being reckless! You could’ve gotten him killed. You could have gotten killed. Don’t you get that?”

“But I didn’t! No one got hurt, so what the fuck is the issue-”

“The issue is you.”

Hotch’s comment quickly halted the verbal punch you were about to throw, and as you glared up at him, you noticed that his nostrils were flaring with fury and that his darkened eyes were wild and blown open with pure unbridled rage. The sting of his words caused the wildfire flaring inside of you to shrink to the dull roar of a fireplace blaze. Crossing your arms over your chest in a sign of defiance, you lowered the volume of your voice and layered it with acidity.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

Hotch narrowed his eyes, which seemed to be glowing with resentment, as he took another step towards you, faintly cocking his head to the side.

“Excuse me?”

He was giving you an opportunity to correct yourself. But one thing Hotch hadn’t seemed to learn about you was that you could be just as stubborn as he was, and once you reached a certain stage in your wrath, you didn’t back down. You went straight for the jugular.

“If it had been you, you wouldn’t have called it ‘reckless’. But because it’s me, you flip out and blow the whole fucking thing out of proportion because you treat me like I’m a goddamn child-”

“I wouldn’t treat you like a child if you didn’t fucking act like one.”

At this point, there was barely an inch of space between you and Hotch, and you had to tilt your head back slightly just to return his scowl. He might as well have thrown gasoline on the fire with that comment, and you were suddenly completely fed up with no one in this goddamn building viewing you as a grown fucking woman.

“If it had been Derek, or Emily, you wouldn’t be giving them shit like this. You would’ve given them a slap on the wrist, but still acknowledged that they got the job done. So why do I get treated differently-”

“Because you’re not as good as you think you are, and you’re certainly not as good as them.”

That simple statement hurt worse than if Hotch had physically struck you across the face with the back of his hand. All the fury within you suddenly fizzled out, and you stood there dumbstruck while Hotch let out an exasperated exhale through his nose and turned away from you to walk around the corner of his desk and plop down angrily in his chair. He opened the file currently sitting in front of him and directed his irritated attention solely to the pages, reaching for a pen from the holder to his right to wrap his fingers around. He didn’t even look up as he barked out his next order.

“You’re suspended for three weeks. When you return, we’ll discuss your behavior and your future here at the B.A.U.”

Everything felt like it had suddenly come crashing down around you, and you found yourself wondering if it was all worth it. The stress of the job, the never ending hours, the horrors you saw day in and day out, but especially the treatment you received from Hotch and the others. You started to wonder if you had tricked yourself into believing it wasn’t harmful and had all come from a good place, but now you weren’t so sure anymore. For the first time since joining the B.A.U., you found yourself wanting out.

Swallowing the pieces of the lump that threatened to form in your throat, you lifted your chin slightly and spoke in a quiet but firm voice.

“No.”

Hotch quickly lifted his gaze to glower up at you, the thickness of his brows making him appear angrier from where you stood above him. However the second he caught the look on your face, his eyes softened considerably and he sat up straight, the semi permanent frown on his lips vanishing into a subtle line. His eyes followed the movement of your hand while you pulled the gun from the holster at your hip and sat it down in front of him on the desk, along with your badge. There was a brief flash of panic in Hotch’s eyes when he looked at you again, and his lips parted slightly, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“I quit.”

Turning around to solemnly leave his office, you ignored the gentle pleas of your name leaving his lips. As you descended the stairs, the team’s heads perked up in curiosity, their gazes darting between your melancholic movements while you gathered your things, and the sight of a frantic Hotch rushing down the stairs like a man on a mission.

“Agent Y/L/N, do not walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”

Realizing that he was getting nowhere by being authoritative, Hotch let out an exasperated deep exhale through his nose and lowered the volume of his voice, speaking in a far gentler tone.

“Y/N we have to talk about this, you can’t just leave.”

You didn’t bother looking at any of them as you began your walk towards the elevators. You could still hear Hotch following closely behind you, and all of a sudden Derek’s large figure appeared in front of you. He dipped his head slightly to capture your eyes, the confusion on his features melting into pure concern as he glanced over your shoulder at Hotch before looking back at you. He held his right hand out towards you as if he were extending an olive branch and tilted his head to the side slightly.

“Whoa, what’s goin’ on Baby Spice? C’mon, talk to me.”

Derek was speaking to you in that gentle manner that he used when he wanted to show a victim that he wasn’t a threat. There was no doubt he could see the sadness and defeat glistening in your eyes, but you didn’t have the energy to rip open the wound any further.

“I’m going home. Please move.”

That was all you could manage to weakly get out as you attempted to step around him. But Derek, being Derek, wasn’t having it. He reached out to gently place his hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll drive you.”

“I can drive myself.”

“Baby-”

“I’m not a child, Derek. I don’t need your help, can you back off?”

Derek’s warm gaze widened considerably, and his neat onyx brows rose up his forehead in complete shock. You had never exploded on him like that, or any of the others for that matter. But right now all you wanted to do was get the hell out of there.

“Let her go.”

Derek glanced over your shoulder to look at JJ in pure confusion, but she gave a slight shake of her head while holding his gaze with a firm look in her ocean blue eyes, giving him a nonverbal cue to sit this one out. After a moment of hesitation, Derek removed his hand from your shoulder and took a step to the left to unblock your path.

The entire team was silent while watching you disappear behind the elevator doors.

»»———　　———««

A subtle but firm series of knocks at your door roused you from your sleep. Squinting at the clock on your bedside table, the lime green numbers read ten twenty-three pm. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. As soon as you had walked through the door of your apartment hours ago, you kicked off your shoes and crawled in bed, your mind spiraling about what you had just done and what it meant for the future.

When the knocks grew more impatient, you threw your comforter off with an irritated huff and got out of bed, exiting your bedroom to make your way to the living room to figure out who the hell was knocking on your door this late. However when you swung the front door open, your unexpected visitor was the last person you expected it to be.

Aaron Hotchner.

The darkness under his eyes was more prominent than usual, and his neatly cropped hair looked messy, as if he had been stressfully running his fingers through it. The permanent scowl he normally wore was missing from his lips, and there was a faint flicker of concern highlighted in his eyes. The first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, and his merlot colored tie hung loosely around his neck.

He looked exhausted.

Instead of speaking, you arched one of your dark brows, silently asking for the reason for his impromptu visit. As he shifted awkwardly to his other foot and cleared his throat, you realized you had never seen him look so unsure of himself.

“May I come in?”

Part of you wanted to slam the door in his face, but a bigger part of you was curious to know why your former boss had shown up at your door unannounced at ten thirty at night. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you stepped aside to allow Hotch to pass by you. The second the door shut with a soft click and you turned around to face him, there was already a blanket of irritation tugging his features down. He didn’t even give you a chance to question his presence before speaking.

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

A dry laugh instantly escaped your lips, and a soft furrow settled between your brows while you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Wow, you’re really good at this whole apology thing, huh?”

“I’m not here to apologize. I’m here to be honest with you, and the honest truth is you’re a huge pain in my ass. You’re stubborn, emotionally reactive, not to mention combative-”

“Then why the hell did you hire me-”

“I’m not finished.”

Hotch was speaking in that firm authoritative voice he used whenever he wanted to make it crystal clear he wasn’t in the mood for bullshit or push back. Despite your burning desire to lash out again, you bit your tongue and settled for glaring at him instead.

“You are constantly acting like you have something to prove-”

“Because you make me feel like I have to, Aaron. You, and the rest of the team, make me feel like I have to prove my worth every fucking day. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is? Or how much that makes me doubt myself?”

“Do you ever stop talking long enough to listen to someone else speak?”

Tension hung in the small space of your living room like a heavy and dense fog. Hotch observed you silently for a moment as your frustrations lingered in the air while you refused to meet his eyes. There was an unreadable expression on his face, and he seemed to wait until he could tell your emotions had leveled out slightly before speaking again.

“I admired your compassion.”

Perplexity twisted up your features as you stared across your living room at Hotch.

“What?”

“You asked why I hired you. That’s why.”

He made it sound like it was the most simple statement in the world, but it only added another layer to the cryptic labyrinth you were trying to navigate.

“I don’t understand-”

“When I reviewed your case work with you in your interview, I was impressed by your attention to detail. But I was even more impressed that when I asked you questions about the victims you had worked with, you gave me personal details about them, not just black and white facts that were in their file. You remembered things about them. You humanized them instead of speaking about them like a statistic.”

All you could do was blink at him in surprise. That was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. Sensing that a calmness had settled over you, Hotch took a cautious step forward and continued.

“You know just as much about the victims of notorious serial killers as you do about the serial killers themselves. Every solution you have to a problem is led with people in mind, trying to minimize casualties. You speak about victims like people, not numbers or objects. You put everyone’s feelings, and safety, before your own, and that is both the best thing about you and the worst.”

The sincerity in Hotch’s voice caught you off guard, and for a moment you weren’t sure what to say. He spoke to you in the soft voice you had once overheard him speaking to Jack in on the phone, and that caused a fluttering feeling inside your stomach. But it also added to your confusion. If he thought so highly of you, then why did he treat you the way he did?

“Why are you so different with me?”

Hotch let out a deep exhale through his nose, dragging his palm down his face slowly before loosely gesturing to you with his hand.

“Because it’s my job to protect you.”

“No it isn’t.”

It was Hotch’s turn to stare at you in puzzlement, his thick brows knit together in the center of his forehead. Running a hand through your hair in slight irritation, you shook your head slowly.

“I knew exactly what I was signing up for when I applied for this job. I knew it was dangerous-”

“My job as the unit chief is to keep my team safe-”

“No, Aaron. It’s to lead us. We all knew the risks when we joined. There is only so much you can control, you of all people should know that. I know you try to look out for us, but you don’t treat the rest of the team like you treat me. And I get it, okay? I am the youngest on the team, but I’m not a child-”

“I don’t think you’re a child.”

Hotch looked even more perplexed by your words, his head tilted to the side slightly while looking over at you.

“Y/N, your age has nothing to do with the way I treat you-”

“Then what is it?”

That uncertainty was once again shining in his eyes. It looked like Hotch was struggling internally with which version of his truth he wanted to give you. The revelation about your age not being a factor in his treatment filled you with a sense of relief, but also left you with more questions than answers. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Hotch’s face softened considerably as he took a few steps closer towards you.

“I…I care about all of you, and I don’t want to see anything happen to any of you.”

The intensity of his eye contact caused a slight shiver to nip at your spine, and it seemed like there was a hidden meaning to his sentence; something deeper.

“You…care about me?”

The tiniest of smirks tugged at the edge of Hotch’s lips, and his eyes had lightened in color with pure amusement.

“You know, for one of my most brilliant profilers, you’re pretty bad at this. Should I be concerned?”

Warmth bloomed in your cheeks hearing the faint tease lingering at the edge of his question. Hotch had never been this laid back and playful with you before. It almost sounded like he was…flirting?

Your eyes widened slightly while staring up at him, an overly dramatic gasp leaving your lips.

“Was that…a joke? Did you just make a joke? Are you feeling alright? Should I call a doctor?”

Deciding to test the waters, you brought your hand up to place the back of it against his forehead before moving it downwards to place against his cheek, as if you were checking his temperature. All of a sudden, a huge tooth bearing grin stretched across his lips, and your breath caught in your throat.

He was smiling.

Aaron Hotchner was smiling.

He gently grasped your wrist in his large hand, his grin fading to a miniscule smirk while his gaze became a little more intense.

“Actually, smartass, I’m having a bit of a rough night. One of my best profilers quit on me earlier. Although in her defense, I was kind of being a dick.”

“Kind of?”

“Don’t push it. I’m already doing something I normally don’t.”

“Which is?”

“Begging for forgiveness.”

Hotch hadn’t let go of your wrist, and either your mind was playing tricks on you, or he had somehow gotten closer. There was barely a centimeter separating your chests. Him telling you not to push it only made you want to do it that much more, and since you had already technically quit, you decided to throw caution to the wind.

“I don’t hear any begging.”

The mirth in Hotch’s eyes darkened into something you hadn’t seen before, and for a moment you were nervous that you had crossed a line. It felt like he was staring directly into your soul, searching for some answer that would determine his next move.

“You are by far the most frustrating woman I have ever met.”

Woman.

Hotch thought of you as a woman, and that caused a bright grin to stretch across your lips.

“Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either, but I still like you.”

Hotch’s grasp on your wrist tightened slightly at the end of your sentence, and a look of surprise flashed across his face before his eyes returned to that darkened look you couldn’t decipher.

“Is that so?”

His voice was low, but firm, and the sultriness of it nestled comfortably between your inner thighs. All you could do was subtly nod while staring up at him, watching as he leaned in meticulously and painfully slow.

“If I’m reading this wrong-”

“If you’re reading this wrong, you’re a terrible profiler.”

You weren’t one to wait for action, so before he could respond, you reached up to grab onto the back of Hotch’s neck and pulled him down to press your lips against his in a tentative kiss. At first he tensed up, but then you felt his body physically relax, and a soft hum sounded in your throat when he snaked his arm around your waist. Reluctantly pulling away, he gently brushed his nose against yours and whispered.

“So, I’ll see you in the office Monday?”

“Mm, no.”

Hotch pulled back so he could stare down at you in pure perplexity, and you grinned at his facial expression.

“No?”

“I’m suspended, remember? Three weeks, I think it was?”

Hotch’s lips formed into a thin line as he stared down at you, the amusement previously lingering in his eyes completely gone. You couldn’t help but laugh, lightly shoving him away from you with your palms against his chest.

“Hey, you decided my sentence.”

“You were being a brat-”

“And now this brat has a three week vacation. I’ve been meaning to take a trip anyway-”

“Actually, I haven’t filed any paperwork, so you’re not officially suspended, and you’re still a current employee. I’ll see you on Monday, Agent Y/L/N.”

The demanding tone of his voice made you bite down on your bottom lip, and you leaned back against your kitchen island while arching one of your brows in challenge and crossing your arms across your chest with a playful smirk on your lips.

“You don’t wanna see me before that, sir?”

The way you used his title clearly had an affect on him, and you suddenly realized that the emotion eclipsing his eyes was pure lust. He slowly reached his hand up to tug at the loose knot on his tie until it came undone around his neck completely, and he slowly approached you with a wolfish grin.

“Why do you think I’m here?”

tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejlovebot @oscarisaacsleftknee

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x f!reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner request #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds request

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sarahghetti · 8 months

Text

can you pretend to be my boyfriend?; m.k.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: the boys pretend to be your boyfriend in order to save you from a creepy stranger.

warnings: inappropriate behaviour towards the reader, female!reader.

moon knight masterlist | all masterlists

steven

you lean over the gift shop counter, eyes wide as you ask, “can you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

poor steven is just confused at first.

“pretend to be—wait, what do you mean—?”

he doesn’t get a chance to finish that thought because the man who’s been trying to flirt with you all day suddenly rounds the corner, and you’re out of time.

“there you are!” a smarmy grin, eyes looking you up and down. it makes your skin crawl. “I was worried that you might’ve left before I could get a chance to talk to you again.”

“yeah, wouldn’t want that, now, would we?” you mutter.

it clicks in steven’s brain then, though not exactly fast enough for him to come up with a retort other than, “right, yeah, right.”

the man’s attention doesn’t waver from you, however, and you squirm on the spot. time for a hail mary, you suppose, turning back to steven. “are we still good for lunch, babe?”

“oh, yes, lunch—right, of course, love,” steven nods, more confident. “I just need to finish up some last things here, if you’re willing to wait a bit?”

you’re ready to say no worries, take all the time you need when the guy scoffs, barely sparing steven a glance. “a sales clerk? really?”

“better than the wet tissue you are, bruv,” steven snaps back, so fast that he surprises himself a little. something simmers under the man’s expression, but steven’s faster. “do I need to call security?”

that finally gets to the guy, who just mutters curses under his breath before finally pissing off. your smile is genuine now when you look at steven. “thanks for that.”

“no worries—are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you nod. “don’t suppose you’re actually free right now, are you? the least I could do is buy you lunch as thanks.”

luckily for the both of you, he is, and he rounds the counter with a wide smile on his face before you lead the two of you out.

marc

he’s just waiting to place his order at a coffee shop when you walk in, some guy hot on your heels and prattling on despite your obvious discomfort.

“oh, hey, babe!” he doesn’t even realize you’re calling out to him until he meets your gaze, and the pleading look in your eyes is all he needs to understand what’s going on. “sorry I’m late.”

“it’s all good.” marc knows the drill, injecting warmth into his smile as he walks up to greet you. he gives you a small nod, letting you know that he’s got your back as he slips his hand into yours. “was worried about you for a minute there.”

“wait, are you two…?” the man looks between you, eyebrows furrowed.

“mhm.” he keeps his tone light, but is secretly watching like a hawk for any signs of escalation. when the guy’s mouth twists into a scowl, marc subtly tugs you behind him.

“you never said you had a boyfriend.” the venom in the words is terrifying, but marc doesn’t flinch.

“no need to cause a scene, man,” he says, tone amicable, but you take a peek at his face and his expression is as hard as stone. “now, if you’ll excuse us.”

marc leads you back into the line to order, squeezing your hand gently to stop you from looking over your shoulder. there’s the heavy stomping of feet before you hear the bell ring over the door as the guy leaves.

the relief is palpable. you finally let go of marc’s hand, face warm as you smile sheepishly at him. “thanks for the help. let me buy you a coffee?”

“don’t worry about it.” he shakes his head, but you offer again and, well, if you insist. he doesn’t mind spending the rest of his afternoon with you at all.

jake

he’s the one to notice your discomfort from across the pub, how you subtly shift away from the man leaning in close to speak directly into your ear.

when you meet his eyes, you mouth, help? and jake doesn’t even think twice before downing the rest of his drink and making his way to your table. he slaps a hand down onto the guy’s shoulder, making him jump. “think you’re in my seat, hombre.”

the man’s greasy smirk twitches, obviously thinking that jake is interrupting his ‘game’ or whatever the fuck. “nah, man, I’m just—”

“trying to hit on my girl, yeah, I can see that.” jake grins at him, but you get the impression that he’s baring his teeth more than anything. he looks to you, and his gaze softens. “you okay, there, baby?”

“better now,” you say, and it’s not a lie.

the guy turns to jake fully, sizing him up. “you think you’re so tough, huh?”

jake doesn’t even blink, just raises a single eyebrow as if daring for him to suggest taking the matter outside. it’s not even a competition, because the man backs off a moment later, angrily slipping out of the booth without looking back.

you don’t breathe until the guy finally leaves the building, at which point a heavy sigh falls from your lips.

“the nerve of that guy,” jake mutters, clicking his tongue.

“right?” you shake your head, then gesture to the now-vacant seat beside you. “care for a drink? I think I owe you after your help back there.”

“you owe me nothing,” he corrects, but slides in beside you anyways, taking your offer with a smile.

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #my writing

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slytherinslut0 · 7 months

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Three- Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Oral Sex (M Rec), Throat Fucking, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Humiliation, Manipulation, Gagging, Spitting, DubCon, CNC.

**here’s: one, two, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen & twenty.

As you approached the door of the familiar private classroom, a subtle sense of unease gnawed at the edges of your confidence.

Admittedly you got lost in the depths of your homework after dinner, becoming absorbed in the swirls of ink on your parchment, diligently crafting your Astronomy essay due in a mere three weeks from now. The minutes seemingly slipped away, and you realized you were running late for today's tutoring session, the devastating consequence of your intense focus on your academic obligations.

However, considering Mattheo's habitual tardiness--one of which he has mastered as well as any given art form--you assumed your delay wouldn't be at all consequential, and would most likely even go unnoticed. So without really thinking twice about it, you gently pushed open the door, expecting the room to be empty, the usual silence welcoming you as you stepped inside.

But then, to your astonishment, the room was not vacant. There he was, Mattheo Riddle, perched on the chair with an air of casual authority. His long legs were stretched out before him, feet confidently resting on the desk's edge, displaying a newfound confidence that sent a shiver down your spine. His arms were folded, his posture exuding an almost predatory assurance. His eyes, dark as the night and twice as intense, followed your every move as you stepped inside. The atmosphere crackled with tension, the weight of his gaze pressing upon you.

You closed the door with a deliberate slowness, the soft click echoing through the room like a gunshot in the silence, and his eyes locked onto yours, silently challenging you.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up." He taunted, his voice laced with a poisonous charm. The room seemed to shrink in the wake of his suffocating arrogance. "Guess Ravenclaws little good girl isn't so perfect after all...who would have guessed."

You rolled your eyes, a flush of embarrassment staining your cheeks as you awkwardly dropped your gaze to the floor. The weight of being late for the first time in your life was almost palpable, but you made an effort to play it off, attempting to regain your composure despite the lingering discomfort.

"Save the mind games for someone who's willing to play, Riddle," you said, slowly making your way toward him. "You have no right to talk, you're late every single week."

"Yeah but I'm not the one who turns into a sobbing mess over a less-than-perfect grade," Mattheo sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. "I don't have mental breakdowns just because I'm not the class's golden child in everything, and I'm definitely not the one who's about to graduate in merely a few months while still a fucking virgin-"

Your jaw dropped in astonishment at his audacity, a surge of indignation propelling you to slam your bag down on the desk in front of him. The force of your action knocked his feet off the desk, abruptly interrupting whatever sentence he had intended to finish, leaving him silenced in disbelief.

"At least I'm going to fucking graduate without needing someone to hold my hand like a child." You hissed, the words slipping past your teeth before you even had a chance to process them. "For someone who needs me so much, you sure don't act like you appreciate my help."

Mattheo's eyes darkened, a storm of arrogance and anger swirling in their depths, transforming his usual stoic demeanor into a deep scowl etched across his face. He rose from his seat, his tall frame looming over you, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the room.

"You think I need you, Raven?" He purred, wetting his lips. "You really think that?"

You steeled your jaw, strengthening your stance, ignoring the fact that your fingers were trembling like leaves in the autumn wind.

"Where would you be without me, Riddle?" You whispered, kinking your neck back to catch his dark, hungry eyes. "How many tutors did you have before me? How many other students tried to help you but couldn't stand your arrogant, no-fucks-given attitude, hm?"

Your words draped the air with a palpable gravity, silencing Mattheo completely--an unprecedented reaction, given his usual quick retorts. The revelation ignited a fierce ember within you, fueling your resolve and lending a sharp edge to your words, as if each syllable carried the weight of your determination.

"That's what I thought..." your voice was low, reverberating as a mere whisper in the air, something flickering behind Mattheo's eyes that made your lips curl into a devilish smirk. "You know that without me, you'd be here forever...maybe you've managed to manipulate me into being your little toy, but that doesn't change the truth about this whole thing...you need me, Riddle, you fucking need me..."

Mattheo blinked, the ensuing silence lingering for what felt like a painful fucking eternity--time seemed to come to a standstill, everything around you fading into insignificance, leaving just you and the cunning, arrogant boy with tousled hair in your presence.

When he finally spoke, You couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your stomach, understanding all too well that his words were laced with an arrogant twist, a prelude to something manipulative and cunning yet to unfold.

"You're right," he finally said, stepping closer. "I do need you,"

His voice dipped into a low, sinister register, and the corners of his lips curled into a sadistic smile, sending a chill down your spine.

"I need you to watch your fucking mouth," the touch of his fingers on your arm nearly made you jump, his hand grazing up and over your shoulder. "I need you on your knees begging for my forgiveness," the pads of his fingers grazed your collarbone, and before you could even comprehend it, his large hand clasped around your throat, the other finding the small of your back as he pushed you up against the desk. "And then, I need you swallowing my fucking cum like the good little whore I know you are."

Without wasting a single second of time his plush lips attacked yours, his tongue delving past your teeth with a passionate urgency. You were painfully aware of Mattheo's manipulative tactics, understanding that he was using your vulnerability to his advantage, and the rational part of your mind screamed warnings at you, reminding you of the toxicity in his actions.

Yet, beneath the surface; as his hands roamed your curves, his tongue explored your mouth; an unsettling, exhilarating feeling lingered, a strange sort of affection for the very dominance that should have repelled you.

The awareness of his exploitation only intensified the rush, a twisted form of affection blossoming amidst the wrongness of it all. It was as if the knowledge of being used had become entangled with your desires, forming a paradoxical bond that you couldn't sever. In the midst of the moral turmoil, a dark, irresistible thrill coursed through your veins, leaving you helplessly drawn to the very thing you should have despised.

"You've been a very naughty girl, Raven..." his lips fell to your jawline, hands groping your curves, bunching the fabric of your uniform within his battered fists. "You've been swearing far too much...you were late...and now you want to act like you have power over me?" When he sunk his teeth into your earlobe, you yelped, flinching as he tightened his grip on your hips. "Don't get it twisted, princess...I hold the fucking power here...look at what I do to you..."

Your entire body was tingling, your fingers latching onto the fabric of his white button up dress shirt for dear fucking life.

"Mattheo-"

His lips fell lower, rough hands gripping your hips and shoving your ass back onto the desk behind you, parting your legs on either side of his strong body as he pulled you against him.

"This is what I do to good girls like you...I turn them into naughty little whores..." he purred, licking a flat line up the side of your throat, your lids involuntary fluttering shut at the breathtaking sensation. "...naughty little whores who take my cock and swallow my fucking cum."

His hands slid up your sides, taking the fabric of your skirt along with them, and you gasped as you felt it hike dangerously high up your thighs, trembling fingers tugging it back down to keep yourself covered.

Mattheo huffed, releasing the fabric. "You're not used to being bad though, are you, princess?"

His teeth sank into your collarbone, creating a tantalizing blend of pleasure and pain that sent shivers down your spine. Strands of his tousled hair caressed your cheek, the faintest whisper of a touch sending tingles across your skin. Your lips parted involuntarily, releasing a soft whimper, while Mattheo's response echoed in a deep, guttural groan that reverberated through the air, intensifying the charged atmosphere between you.

One hand gripped your jaw as he pulled back, meeting your eyes. "Answer me when I ask you a question."

Your breath hitched, flames roaring in your veins. "No, Mattheo...I'm not..."

"Mm," he purred, wetting his lips as he stared. "Do you know what happens to bad girls, Raven?"

Your stomach twisted as he tugged you closer by the hold on your jaw, his eyes darkening with desire as they darted across your face, seemingly examining your features as though they were precarious and new.

Your voice trembled. "No..."

"They get fucking punished."

Before you could respond, Mattheo shifted his hand, shoving two rough fingers between your teeth, reaching for the back of your throat and forcing a gag. Your eyes watered, beads of salty fluid threatening to spill down your cheeks, but he was unyielding, gripping the back of your neck with his other hand to force himself further down your throat--holding you in place while he did.

Your entire body was in flames, your thighs begging, fucking screaming in a need so disgustingly dirty you'd never experienced anything remotely close to it before.

Mattheo groaned, low in his chest, his dark eyes watching every single ministration of your face as you gagged on his fingers. The hand behind your head relented as he brought it to his crotch, palming the insistent bulge in his trousers as he watched you; seemingly not having blinked once.

"Unbutton your shirt," his voice was a hoarse whisper, laced with primal desire. He pushed his fingers deeper, clearing his throat. "Seal those filthy lips around my fingers, and unbutton your fucking shirt, princess..."

You cursed the fact that his body was separating your legs because all you wanted, more than anything on the face of the planet, was to squeeze your fucking thighs together--to give your cunt any sort of friction possible. Every word from his lips was doing inexplicable things to your body, and the need between your thighs was growing so insistent it was almost painful.

Following his commands, you sealed your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue and bobbing your head painfully slowly as you teased him, trembling fingers moving to the buttons on your blouse and undoing them one by one until your chest was entirely exposed to him--your lungs stalled, pussy clenching as you watched his eyes darken with desire while they scanned your chest covered only by your navy laced bra, the hand on his crotch moving more insistently now.

"My fucking God, Raven," he breathed, jaw tensing so tight it looked painful. "I can't believe you've been keeping all of that hidden this whole time..."

You mewled involuntarily as he grazed your chest with his free hand, pushing his fingers deeper down your throat with enough intensity to make you cough as his demeanour switched and he palmed your breast with enough force to illicit an exasperated groan. He was possessed now, something swarming his pupils that made your entire body convulse with unfamiliar and unabashed need; you were almost certain there'd be a pool of your desire on the desk between your thighs at this point.

Without warning, he abruptly removed his hands from you. Your lips, parted in anticipation of a breath, yearned for air before his mouth enveloped yours once more. In a frenzy, his hands hurriedly reached for his belt, driven by an almost desperate urgency as you both inhaled sharply through your nostrils. Your lips meshed together in a way that seemed to consume each other, as if you could breathe in one another during the kiss.

Once he'd successfully freed himself, he pulled back, shoving his fingers back into your mouth and yanking you off the desk, his throbbing length pressing against your belly as he shoved himself against you; fingers forcing another gag from your chest, watching you with a primal fervour in his eyes so intense it was intoxicating.

Pulling his fingers from your mouth again, he cupped his hand out in front of you. "Spit."

Your brows furrowed in confusion, your brain buffering in attempt to process his words until his free hand shot into your hair, tilting your head until your lips were parallel to his palm.

"Spit, Raven," he repeated. "Spit into my fucking hand."

Your stomach contorted with a mix of disbelief and unfamiliar desire, your entire being thrown off balance. Each word that fell from his lips felt like a jolt, causing your heart to stutter in your chest. His eyes bored into you, searing your skin into flames, and without another moment's hesitation, you gathered the saliva he had coerced from you and spat it into his hand.

"Mm, that's it...good little whore..." He purred, bringing it down to his cock, rubbing it into his shaft as he stroked himself, eyes never once leaving yours. "Now, get on your knees for me, pretty girl."

Your breath caught in your throat. He, of all people, had just called you "pretty," and you were certain your ears were playing some sort of trick on you. It was a compliment you never expected from him, someone you had never imagined would see you in such a way. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you did as he said, squeezing your thighs together as you situated yourself in front of his feet.

Mattheo's hand remained in your hair, firmly gripping a fistful as he stroked himself. "Hands behind your back, Raven..." he muttered. "Let me see those delicious fucking tits of yours."

Your entire body shuddered, immediately clasping your hands together behind you without a second thought.

"That's it...fuck-" he was stroking himself faster, the veins in his hands tensing with every movement. You weren't sure who was enjoying this more, him or you. "You want this, princess? You want this cock in your dirty little mouth?"

Your throat was drier than the desert, each swallow a struggle against the arid emptiness within. Fingernails dug into your own flesh with a fierce intensity, the pressure threatening to break through the skin, mirroring the internal turmoil that gripped you. Holy fucking shit.

"Yes..." your voice was a pathetic whisper.

"Don't be so modest, Raven," he sneered, slowing his pace, twisting his wrist as he stroked his shaft, eyes never once leaving yours. "Beg for it."

Your stomach was in your throat. You'd never done anything like that before, you weren’t even really sure how. "I...um-please, Mattheo..."

His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest moment, a flicker of amusement dancing across his features before he locked eyes with you once more, his arrogance wrapping around the room like a suffocating cloak.

"Bloody hell, I said beg for it...does the prissy little princess not know how to fucking beg?" his voice was a hoarse growl, his vocal cords strained with lust. "Tell me how bad you want my cock, Raven, tell me how much you need it."

You couldn't believe your ears; the turn of events in your life felt utterly surreal. Never in your entire existence could you have imagined that this is where you'd find yourself right now--merely a few months away from graduation, on your knees for the most suffocatingly arrogant delinquent in the school who was making you beg to suck his fucking dick. A man who only last year wouldn't have paid you an ounce of mind, who probably didn’t even know you existed.

Your cheeks burned, but you fought through it, the arousal in your lungs fuelling your words. "Please, Mattheo...I want your cock so bad, I want you in my mouth, I want to choke on it, I want you to fuck my throat until you cum-"

His grip on your hair tightened, simultaneous with the grip on his cock as he cranked your head back, leaning down to meet your eyes; his lips hovering mere inches above yours.

"My God, you're a dirty fucking slut, aren't you?" He purred, smirking so wide it reached his eyes, his fingers bruising your scalp. "A dirty fucking slut whose sole purpose is to let me use her mouth whenever I want, yeah?"

You swallowed, wincing as he jerked your head back further, fucking into his fist faster, harder. "Yes, Mattheo..."

He sneered, clearly loving every fucking minute of this. "Imagine if anyone saw you like this...fuck-you're fucking filthy..." his voice was breathless, if you didn't know any better you'd think he was about to make himself cum before you had the chance to suck him off. "Apologize for being such a nasty little slut and I'll let you swallow my cum."

Your thighs clenched in need, your wetness seeping through your panties at this point. Gods, you wanted him so fucking bad you thought you were going to die.

"I'm sorry," you pleaded, eyes wide as you peered up at him, nearly-speechless. "I'm sorry for being a nasty little slut."

"That's right..." he purred, directing the head of his cock toward your mouth, groaning as your pressed your lips to it. "Good girl...fuck-so good for me..."

Your entire body was in flame, hands still clasped together behind your back as both of his thrust tightly through your hair, absentmindedly sealing your lips around his shaft, revelling in his skin's heat, dragging your tongue along the throbbing, pulsing underside. Riddle growled, bucking his hips, and you took him further into your mouth, gagging as his tip slammed the back of your throat.

"You take me so well, Raven..." he breathed, head falling back on his shoulders, eyes fluttering shut as his hands urged your head along his length. "Can't believe a mouth that annoying can feel this fucking good."

You groaned in assent, sucking hard at his cock as he slowly started to fuck your throat. You were both struggling to breathe, both losing control, both lost in an ocean of primal, urgent carnality. Pleasure was straining your seams, ready to explode inside of you, drool dribbling in globs from your chin, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you tried to hold the boundaries of your sanity together.

"Mm, fuck..." Riddle's grip was crushing your skull. "I changed my mind…I'm gonna' cum on those perfect tits, princess..."

Your bones almost liquefied at this--but you steadied your knees, gagging as he started fucking into your throat faster, thrusting deep, your eyes disappearing into the back of your head as you allowed him to use your mouth as a helpless hole for him to fuck--singlehandedly loving every fucking second of it.

"Shit-" he groaned, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck."

Your thighs clenched, brain fogged by a hurricane of lust, but when he pulled out, abruptly, your cognition returned--your vision clearing to an image of Riddle, red-faced, fucking his fist. Snarling, he jerked your hair, and choked on his moan, the sound stuttering while he shot the hot loads of his cum onto your chest and neck. He sucked down air in long, heavy breaths, waiting until the end of his release had dissipated, and then dropped you, stepping back to marvel at his masterpiece. You swore steam was wafting off your skin.

"Beautiful," he murmured. He pieced himself back together, buckling his belt. "Tell me how I taste."

Every inch of you tingled, chest heaving, jaw slack in an open pant. Keeping his stare, you brought a trembling hand to your chest, swiping his sticky cum off your tits and trailing it past your lips, slowly sucking it off your first two fingers. The taste melding with the mere prospect of what was happening elicited a low moan from your chest, and you shuddered, trapped in his gaze until you were finished.

"Salty." You teased, smirking up at him.

"Salty, huh?” He huffed, a devious grin on his face as he helped you up to your feet, rough palm grasping your forearm. "Important mineral for a balanced meal, yeah?"

You chuckled, heat swarming your skin as you stammered up to your feet, meeting his darkened eyes as you began buttoning up your shirt, taking in his newly flushed features--curly brown hair slightly sticking to his forehead before he ran a battered hand through it, brushing it back.

“Smartass,” you grumbled, turning toward the desk. “Next week we have an exam, so there won’t be a tutor session, you know that right?”

He released a breath, throwing himself into the usual creaky wooden chair beside yours. “Guess that just means you’ll have to do that again before the nights’ over,” he said. “You know, to compensate for next week.”

You rolled your eyes, failing to hide your smirk. “In your dreams, Riddle.”

“Oh, definitely not, princess.” He breathed, glimpsing you briefly. “In my dreams you do a hell of a lot more than that.”

——————

Chapter four->

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thehighladywrites · 18 days

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— “He clearly doesn’t want you!”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy/popular reader

☀︎ — summary: after yoga class you and your friends run into a sweaty, hot, big armed Azriel.

☀︎ — warnings: fluff, azriel get’s hit on by creepy friend, reader punches someone, possessiveness, protective reader, secret relationships come to light, kisses and hugs

☀︎ — amara’s note: thank u guys for the patience, the next one will be smutty👀👀💗

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“Oh my god, who is that?” Letty, your sorta friend, exclaims, eyeing the figure behind you from head to toe.

You blink, tilting your head and squinting as if trying to figure out a puzzle. "Who?"

As heads turn to see, anticipation fills the air. The man stands with his back to you, but there's something unmistakable about his shoulders, the way he carries himself. It's Azriel, unmistakably, his muscular frame reminding you of the intimate moments you've shared.

It was yoga day, so you headed to your weekly session at the gym. Never did you imagine you’d see Azriel using some fancy machine. You didn’t even know your boyfriend worked out here; sure, you knew he did, but not here. He looked incredibly good, although you were aware that your so-called friends only looked at his body. If they knew who said body belonged to, they would totally roll their eyes.

It seriously irked you because they never even glanced at campus, but now they were drooling over him. Like, hello? He's totally yours, and it's so annoying to see them fawning over him. Ugh, seriously, can they not see he's off-limits?

"Okay, let’s—let’s just go, I wanna get some food. I'm sooo hungry," you say with a dramatic flair, clutching your stomach and fluttering your eyelashes.

Letty shakes her head, still gazing at your boyfriend. "Hmm, no, I think I’ll go say hi," she says determined, twirling a strand of her hair.

She walks over, putting a hand on his back, making him jump. The move makes you feel murderous as you observe how Azriel is so very obviously uncomfortable. How dare she?

"Hi, I haven’t seen you around. Are you new?" she asks, her hand still lingering on his back.

"Get your hand off of me, you are making me quite uncomfortable," Azriel responds firmly.

"Yeah? We could,like, leave and get comfortable in other ways," she suggests with a suggestive smile.

"Um, I’m good. I really don’t want to leave with you. I’m not available." Azriel replies, his discomfort palpable.

"Oh, come on—"

"Um, hello??? What part of 'no' are you not getting? He clearly doesn't want you," you say with a cute furrow between your perfectly shaped brows, your glossy lips pursing as you cross your arms over your chest, stepping closer to Azriel.

Letty and the rest of your soon-to-be ex-friends look between the three of you with comically large brows.

“Azriel is my boyfriend, and he loves me a lot, and I love him even more, there’s no way he’s going with you. He's mine and mine only, so if any of that clicked for you, i’m going to need you to get your Dollar Tree nails off of him, like right now.” you declare, narrowing your eyes at them, your possessive tone leaving no room for doubt about your feelings for him.

They had never seen you like this before. Usually, you were bubbly, ditzy, a little stupid, but never possessive, cold, and jealous.

Letty lets out a demeaning laugh, looking back at the group who soon start to laugh at demand like dogs.

“Did you say Azriel? That teachers pet guy in your math class? Y/n, do you think I’m stupid? This man is hot, that disgusting loser from your math class is a social reject who’s probably a closeted perv—“

Her words grate on your nerves, and you're fed up with her bitchy attitude. Without another thought, you ball up your fist and punch her straight in the face, of course, very careful of your nails.

Azriel startles a little, pulling you in by the waist before Letty tries something.

“You bitch, you broke my nose!” she yells, clutching her bleeding nose.

You shrug, attempting to wriggle out of Azriel's iron grip to no avail. “You should be thanking me, I mean, your botched nose job needed an upgrade anyway. I’d suggest Dr. Heartman for the fix-up!” you yell the last bit as Azriel drags you away to a secluded corner.

Azriel doesn’t let you go until your erratic breathing has calmed down, and you look up at him with those familiar loved out eyes he loves.

“You okay?” he asks carefully, his brow furrowing with worry.

“Yeah, I’m good. M’sorry you had to see me like that,” you say with a pouty expression, your voice a bit airy. You flash him those adorable doe eyes, your shoulders sagging as you twist your lips.

He nods, still looking concerned. “It’s all good, sweetheart. But are you sure? You didn’t have to do that for me,” he says, his worry evident in his endearing, caring demeanor.

You melted. Even though he was getting uncomfortable and hit on, he was still checking on you. As sweet as it was, you wanted to be the one caring for him in this moment.

“Oh, babe, I would like totally do anything for you! I am so freaking in love with you, I’d totally give up my entire closet for you. And trust me, that’s like, a big deal,” you say with a girly giggle, knowing just how much your clothes meant to you.

But your love for clothes would never ever come close to the love you felt for Azriel.

“But what now? Your friends know about me.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “So? You're not some dirty secret. I want people to know about you.”

“Yeah?”

You got closer, dropped your water bottle and bag before standing on your tippy toes, pressing a sweet, tender kiss on his lips, your heart fluttering with affection.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as he returned the kiss. “Thank you, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, never worry about her again, Azzie. I will so punch her if she even dares to look at you,” you declared with fierce determination.

Azriel looked down at you, a tender smile gracing his lips as he kissed the tip of your nose. “I feel safer already. How about we go get some ice cream? Maybe make out in the car?”

Your eyes lit up with excitement, and a wide grin spread across your face. He had really gotten more comfortable with expressing his wants and it made you so proud and happy

“I’m so in!”

He changed quickly, holding your hand as you walked out of the gym. As you strolled down the street, he finally voiced the question that had been on his mind.

“So, uh, Dr. Heartman any good?”

You couldn't help but smirk mischievously, lifting your chin. “The absolute worst.”

🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl l @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @andrewgarfield2022 @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @dwyniii @scoobies @harryshoobies69 @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @rowaelinsdaughter @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @viatorem-maris @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @sweetshifter @lilah-asteria @hannzoaks

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rashoumon-homo · 12 days

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BSD Men - Would they be good at giving head?

BSD x Gender Neutral Reader, NSFW

Includes: Dazai, Kunikida, Ranpo, Chuuya, Sigma, Nikolai, Atsushi, Fyodor, and Akutagawa

Author’s Note: Just a quick lil headcanons post to fill the void of content while I work on Bottom Dazai Week! A little low-effort compared to what I usually post, hope that’s alright :)

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

(Ranked roughly from best to worst)

Dazai

Holy FUCK bro, YES.

He’s good at it and he knows it

He moans into it like he’s the one getting off

He’ll have you coming on his tongue in less than 2 minutes

And he swallows too- gladly! He insists you taste amazing

Knows his anatomy too - all the spots to lick and suck to get your toes curling

Kunikida

Way more skilled than expected

This man literally sat down and studied before even his first attempt

Knows your anatomy better than a doctor atp

You had to remind him to relax at first because even though he was doing everything right, he was as mechanical as a robot

As he got more comfortable with it, you both had more fun

Prefers other types of sex but will gladly give you head if you ask

Ranpo

Absolutely - if he feels like it

You know how he is, picky with taste and texture of things he puts in his mouth and whatnot

But if he’s into it, he’s hella skilled

Definitely won’t swallow, but he’ll give you head for longggg periods of time, making you cum over and over

He’s just having fun with the tactile experience and with seeing you come undone under his touch. Boosts his ego a little lol

Chuuya

Oh yeah for sure

He gives head to tease though, not to get you to finish

Always looking up at you from under his lashes because he knows it gets you flustered

For some reason gives better head when he’s drunk

But he usually stops before you can cum because for him, oral is ideally just foreplay

Points docked for that :(

Sigma

Yes and no

He’s more inexperienced, so the first few times are a little clumsy

But he’s determined to learn how to please you

With practice and guidance from you, he’ll come to be really good at it! You just have to get through the awkward phase first

Nikolai

Duh

Y’all already know he’s a freak

He’s got plenty of skill and enthusiasm but he gets bored quickly

If it’s taking too long to get you to cum, he will flat out give up

He’s always coming up with new ways to do it as well (don’t ask what that means) so hopefully you’re willing to put up with his weird-ass, occasionally morally concerning ideas

Atsushi

Not perfect initially but eager to learn

Inexperienced and over enthusiastic (too much teeth 😬)

Wants so badly to please you

Probably needs some guidance at first

Fyodor

Good luck convincing him…

He sees giving head as a sign of submission so he’ll likely flat out refuse for a very very long time

If you can sway him, he’s about average in skill

Not much experience, since he hates doing it, but he picks up the skill quickly

Surprisingly gentle and cautious with his mouth (whether for your sake or his is unclear)

Do not cum in his mouth. He will pointedly spit it out because he’s grossed out and will likely sulk about it after

Akutagawa

This guy does not enjoy giving head and it shows

He’ll do it on rare occasions but his discomfort is palpable and kind of makes it not fun

If you finish in his mouth, he’s spitting that shit out. No offense to you personally, he just finds the idea of swallowing gross in general

Stick to other types of sex I beg of you

Tag List: @suru1990 @little-miss-chaoss

If you want to join the tag list, send me a dm!

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loki-cees-all · 4 months

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Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark {Avengers!Loki x Female Reader One-Shot}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : You and Loki absolutely despise each other. A mission to Finland forces you to work together undercover in the days leading up to Christmas, and then a blizzard traps you at an inn with only one bed. Suddenly all those teasing games aren't so fun anymore, and the animosity takes you both down a path neither of you anticipated.

W/c : 6.2k words

Content / Warnings : Enemies to Lovers, Snowed In, Only One Bed, Shameless Smut, Fingering, Teasing, Hate-Fucking, Cowgirl Position

Author's Note : My entry for @sarahscribbles' Christmas Collection, using the ✨ Enemies to Lovers ✨ prompt. Hope you enjoy it, dear!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

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This had to be a joke.

Not only had you been given the ridiculous assignment of “accompanying” the newest member of the Avengers, the so-called God of Mischief, to Finland. Not only did you know it wasn’t accompaniment, it was actually babysitting, because despite Thor’s intense insistence that his brother be given this chance at redemption, the rest of the team still didn’t quite trust him yet.

Not only were you sure that this mission was just busy work - a way to simultaneously keep Loki distracted, and away from the prying eyes of the American government and media. And not only had this man single handedly usurped your rise from common S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to the next member of the Avengers, because the dungeons on Asgard were just too cruel for the precious Prince…

But now, there was only one bed left in this entire goddamn inn.

The sweet old woman checking you in apologized profusely when she broke the news, and you just stood there, silently fuming and clenching your jaw so hard your teeth would be aching for days. Truthfully, you should have known better - it was only four days before Christmas; how could you forget that it was technically a holiday, and that millions of people around the world would be traveling for leisure right now?

Maybe it was just because you couldn't recall the last time you'd taken a vacation, or the fact that you hadn’t spent a holiday with loved ones in years. Or maybe you’d been cursed somehow - most likely by the man standing next to you, with an infuriatingly charming grin on his face.

“Please don’t worry about it, my dear, we’ve just had quite a long day of traveling,” Loki gently assured the woman, reaching for her hand as she all but cowered in fear at your palpable rage. She seemed to relax as Loki soothed her, and you hated that it was him covering for your negative attitude instead of the other way around. “My fiancé - she’s just a bit old fashioned, and she wants to wait until marriage, you see...”

The woman smiled as if he was describing kittens snuggling together on a cold and rainy evening, and you were this close to absolutely losing your temper; he was already deviating from your mutually agreed upon cover story, that you were simply colleagues traveling to the Muotkatunturi Wilderness Area on a research trip, and he intentionally chose his own cover story to replace it - one that was designed to deliberately piss you off.

You knew Loki could feel the anger radiating off your skin, and he turned towards you with a smile of his own as he continued to act as your doting fiancé. “And I’m determined to make that a reality. I promise, I’ll be fine sleeping on the floor, alright, darling?”

He slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, his emerald eyes shining as he surely relished in your discomfort. You tried to focus on that, on how angry you were at him about everything - instead of his warm embrace, or how inviting his scent was.

“Well, you’re in luck. We’ve got the most comfortable floors in all of Rovaniemi!” the woman laughed as she returned to filling out the guestbook.

It was humiliating, but it seemed as though you had no choice. You let out a heavy exhale, deciding it would be easier to just go along with his story and get this interaction over with as quickly as possible. Your only saving grace was that this was temporary - soon this reconnaissance mission would be over, and sooner or later Loki would ruin the good graces of Tony and Steve and be sent back to the dungeons on Asgard.

But until then, you were going to have to find a way to make him pay for all of this later on.

“There’s my girl. Always the brave little soldier,” he purred softly, leaning down as if he was going to kiss you. Your eyes widened in panic, desperately fighting the urge to push him away and possibly punch him in his handsome face, but Loki caught the hint and quickly looked the other way.

You turned your attention back to the front desk as the woman fiddled with the paperwork, and a group of figurines for sale caught your eye, nestled among the garland and twinkling lights. A wicked grin crept across your face as you nudged Loki’s ribs unplayfully. “Look, dear - they’ve got some Odin statues for sale. Shall we buy some to hand them out with our Christmas gifts this year?”

Loki’s gaze slowly descended into madness, and you cheered silently once you were sure you’d gotten under his skin. His jaw tightened, along with the hand pressed against your ribs, but the woman smiled happily, unaware of just who she was talking to.

“Ah, yes - these make excellent souvenirs!” the woman laughed as she picked up one of the figurines, admiring the wood carving with a loving eye. “Did you know that the myth of Santa Claus is based partially on the myth of Odin - and that it all started right here in Rovaniemi?”

“Oh, I had no idea!” you lied, almost giddy with how much this was going to piss Loki off. “Could you tell me more about that? I find Norse mythology to be just fascinating��Of course, that pesky God of Mischief certainly leaves a lot to be desired, wouldn’t you say?”

She opened her mouth to answer, clearly very pleased that someone was finally so interested in her offerings, but Loki quickly interjected with barely contained rage. “Actually, if you could just focus on retrieving our room key now, I’d really appreciate it.”

“What is the God of Mischief’s name? Loki, or something like that?” you continued with absolute delight, slipping your arm around his waist the way he’d done while teasing you. “Pretty ridiculous name, if you ask me. Thor’s name is so much more elegant…”

“Well, it’s funny you should mention that. The name Loki actually means - ”

“The keys! Now. Please,” Loki snapped as he yanked your arm away, gripping your wrist so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. That was definitely going in your mission report once you’d returned to Stark Tower.

The woman faltered briefly, clearly not expecting the charming man to shift his attitude so abruptly, but she reluctantly obliged and began rummaging around in a drawer for a set of room keys.

“You’ll have to excuse my fiancé, m’am…He just doesn’t believe in all that Norse mythology nonsense, even though I think it’s super interesting…” you smirked as Loki stewed with indignation. “But it’s just this one night that you have to endure the tall tales of Norse mythology, and then we’re off to Inari in the morning…aren’t we, sweetheart?”

The sweet old woman furrowed her brow as she pulled the last set of keys from the drawer and extended them over the counter. “Oh, didn’t you hear about the blizzard arriving tonight? They’re saying it’s the storm of the century. I doubt you two will be going anywhere for a while.”

Loki’s face fell alongside yours, and you both turned to the woman with matching grimaces. “I beg your pardon?”

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Your mood quickly soured by the time Loki led the way upstairs to your room; of course there was a blizzard incoming, and of course it would mean you were trapped here longer than anticipated with the most inconsiderate man alive. He took the stairs two at a time, leaving you behind to struggle with your luggage, while his belongings were no doubt stored easily inside that stupid pocket dimension of his.

If just one more thing went wrong on this trip, you feared you might actually lose it - consequences be damned.

By the time you made it down the hallway to the door of your room, Loki was casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and a brooding expression on his face. If you didn’t hate him so much, it would have been a beautiful sight to behold.

“Hey, thanks for offering to help,” you called out sarcastically as you made your way over to him. “I’m absolutely shocked by how thoughtful and courteous you are.”

Loki scoffed and pushed himself off the wall as he pulled the key out of his pocket. “I could have just gone inside and left you wondering which door was ours. You should be grateful I didn’t.”

“Aww, is someone a little mad that I made him think about Odin?” you taunted, enjoying the way he tensed up again at the sound of his father’s name.

“No, it was just foolish. Do not make that mistake again…”

The door swung open and you rolled your eyes as you followed him inside. “Are you threatening me?”

Loki whipped around with barely restrained fury as soon as the door closed. “We’re meant to be under cover here, yes? So do you really think it’s a good idea to be throwing around my actual name just to infuriate me?” he snapped angrily, eyes blazing and fists clenching at his sides.

Your stomach did a flip in your abdomen, and you struggled to maintain an air of defiance as he continued. “You don’t know who anyone is here, or who could be listening to our conversations. So keep your mouth shut if you don’t want us to be discovered! Am I being clear?”

You nodded meekly, because that was all you could manage while kicking yourself. He was right, you were being foolish and forgetting the true purpose of this trip. Hydra could easily have eyes and ears everywhere, and if you kept pissing Loki off, he might not be inclined to save you if necessary.

And you hated that it might be necessary, because he was a literal God with infinite magic at his disposal, while you were just a fallible little human that he absolutely despised.

As Loki turned away and started pulling the drapes shut, you distracted yourself with examining the room you’d been given. Three large windows took up the entire outside wall of the room, and on either side of the lone queen-sized bed were two end-tables, each with a dark green lamp providing the only light to the room. A stone fireplace sat on the opposite side of the bed, decorated with greenery and frosted miniature Christmas trees, and a tiny wooden desk and chair were the only other pieces of furniture in the room.

It was definitely cozy, even you couldn’t deny that, but that just made it worse. In any other circumstances, you might have enjoyed this break; but the Christmas decorations just reminded you of how alone you were, and Loki’s presence only reminded you of how unnecessary you were.

And it was already starting to get uncomfortably cold inside the room. Just before Loki yanked the last curtain closed, you caught a glimpse of the snow outside; it had quickly transformed from light flurries into heavy sheets of frozen precipitation. You were in for a very cold, very long and lonely night, and daylight couldn't come soon enough.

A deep sense of dread settled in the base of your spine as you realized how long you might be trapped here with this narcissistic, self-important and delusional mockery of all the sacrifices you’d made to get to this point of your career.

You’d foregone relationships with family, friends and potential lovers to spend every waking moment either training your body or honing your skills, trying to prove your worth and dedication to keeping this world safe from anything that ever threatened it.

And the planet’s most recent threat, the reason for the Avengers’ very existence, was making himself busy pulling pillows and blankets off the bed to make his own on the hardwood floor. Loki was silent as he worked, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually hurt by your teasing.

You hated it. You hated this - especially since you hadn’t expected to feel so badly about taunting him. Clearing your throat, you set your suitcase on the chair and pretended to look for something inside. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened before. I guess I’m just…on edge.”

“Why bother?” he replied coldly, and you didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t actually hurt, or if it was because he didn’t care that you were potentially sorry about hurting him. Either way, the dismissal stung.

You continued rummaging through the suitcase, anything to avoid looking at your roommate for the night. How long had it been since you’d shared such close quarters with another person? Had there been anyone since college? You already felt raw and exposed by the idea of falling asleep within the same four walls as another person; but at the very least, Loki was sticking to his word about sleeping on the floor and not in the bed with you.

“You’re not worried about the mission? Or the blizzard? Or the fact that we might kill each other at any moment?” you laughed nervously, hoping to at least break some of the tension.

Loki sighed. “This mission is a joke. The blizzard might be a problem, and yes - we might certainly try to kill each other…but none of that is cause for real concern - not to me, anyway.”

Your brow furrowed, and you turned to look at him; the God of Mischief was on his hands and knees, arranging pillows and blankets on the floor. It was an amusing sight, and you struggled to maintain focus. “Wait - you think this mission is a joke?”

He paused what he was doing, staring off into the distance with regret in his eyes as if he’d already said too much but couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Don’t think for one moment that I don’t know what this mission actually is…”

You rubbed your neck nervously, unsure of where he was going with this.

“I know how easily it would be for Stark to send in his machines to do this reconnaissance, and that the Scepter likely isn’t here. Obviously, I’d be the last person they’d ever want close to it,” Loki continued, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefingers. “I know the others are probably on the other side of the world recovering it as we speak, and that this mission is completely pointless - hence, assigning you and I to it.”

Your heart sank as he spoke, knowing that he was probably right; that this mission was utterly pointless, that it wouldn’t advance you any further in your career. That the only thing this mission was going to lead to was meaningless and unnecessary frustration and pain for the both of you.

“I know what they - and you - don’t particularly like or trust me. And you have good reason not to.” Loki cast a tragic glance in your direction before quickly looking away again.

“So why are you here then? If you don’t want to be here, and if you don’t…” you trailed off, unsure if you should finish that thought.

Loki sighed and shook his head. “It…doesn’t matter,” he answered sadly, and your heart broke over the entire situation. You didn’t know what to say to make either of you feel better, and it was likely that nothing ever would.

“There. I think that’ll do nicely,” he announced pleasantly, abruptly changing the subject and rousing you from your pensive thoughts. You glanced over to see a grown man - a God, in fact - standing proudly over the neatly arranged pillows and blankets on the floor, and for a brief moment you couldn’t help but be amused by the sight - that is, until you noticed the state of your sleeping quarters for the foreseeable future.

“You stripped off most of the bed!” you protested angrily, examining the three paltry blankets left to keep you warm overnight.

“On the contrary - I stripped precisely half of the bed,” Loki replied as he began to remove his coat. “Of course, there’s a simple and quite easy way to double your warmth if you’re so concerned…”

“Absolutely not.” The words came out harsher than you’d intended, but even just sharing four walls felt way too close to him; sharing a bed was probably way more than you ever could handle.

“Fair enough. Shall I light a fire to keep us warm then?” Loki offered without skipping a beat, the sudden change in his tone giving you multiple rounds of whiplash. He stepped over to the fireplace to examine it, running his hands over the stone hearth’s arch before crouching next to the pile of logs.

How was he able to switch so suddenly, from profound soundness to being so thoughtful? You wanted to accept the kindness and be grateful for the change in tone, but all it did was put you on edge. You sat down on the bed and began to unlace your boots, still desperately trying not to look at him. “Don’t bother on my account,” was all the response you could manage.

The room was silent for a moment, and you could almost feel the gears turning inside Loki’s head as he tried to come up with something else to say. But why was he trying so hard? You had been counting on him retreating into himself the way he always did back at Stark Tower, or worst case - that he would be deliberately messing with you, making your life hell and again ruining your chances at proving yourself worthy.

You could feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull as your boots clattered to the floor. And when he still hadn’t tried to speak, you cautiously looked over your shoulder to him. “Was there something else you wanted?”

Loki sighed and let his eyes drift away as he shook his head. An expression of restrained exasperation crawled across his features as he made his way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “Nothing. I don’t need anything from you…”

Your brow furrowed and guilt poured into your veins with every step he took. But guilt about what? You weren’t friends. You owed him nothing. This was just a mission - nothing more, and nothing less. You opened your mouth to speak, but Loki was already laying down on the floor with his back to you, clearly uninterested in speaking anymore that night.

The room seemed colder after Loki withdrew. It was an odd, incredibly distracting feeling - one that you hadn’t ever prepared yourself for, and didn’t have the energy to explore at the moment. Sleep was calling out to you, beckoning you closer as it always did whenever the feelings all became too much.

It took so much effort to crawl underneath the three blankets on your bed, and you didn’t even bother changing out of your street clothes before cocooning yourself inside. You thought about everything in your life that had led up to this incredibly excruciating moment, all the choices you’d made and the pain you’d gone through.

All that sacrifice, and where had it gotten you?

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Sleep did not come easy for you that night. Despite your body exhausted from travel and the gentle bed cradling your wearied soul, you laid awake far longer than you would have expected. So many thoughts flitting uncontrollably across your mind, so many shivers slipping along your frigid bones.

A cold draft seeped in through the seams of the windowsills as the snow poured down outside. You were still awake, curled up on your side with the blankets pulled tight around your narrow frame. Eyelids pulled shut and breath held cautiously, you struggled to keep from shivering too much as you imagined Loki on the floor.

He had to be colder than you were, and part of you wanted to ignore his possible discomfort. He deserved it, didn’t he? Maybe if he was more pleasant to be around, it wouldn’t have to be like this.

But another part of you hoped he’d be so uncomfortable that he’d ask to join you in the bed. Your thoughts returned to when he had slipped his arm around your waist earlier that evening, and you struggled to keep your heart rate in check. It was wrong, you knew it was so wrong because you were supposed to hate him, the villain who had terrorized New York City, and he was supposed to hate you, a simple mortal who was only good for kneeling.

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was a whisper, a small shadow in a room full of empty ones. You slowly opened your eyes, your pupils taking their time to adjust the dark and make out the furniture inside the room. You wanted to sit up, to peer out into the world and see if he looked any different on the floor.

“Can’t sleep. It’s too cold,” you murmured softly, barely able to even pull the blankets tighter around you.

Loki sighed off in the distance. “The power’s been knocked out by the storm, so the heating’s off.”

It was only then that you realized the bedside table lamps had gone out. Too busy retreating inside yourself, the only warm place you had left. “Oh. Hadn’t noticed.”

“I could light the fire now, if you’d like.”

No, you thought. No, that won’t do. That’s not what I want from you. “Why are you being so nice to me now?”

Loki stirred on the floor, presumably shifting underneath his blankets. He could be sitting up right now, looking at you in the dark and you wouldn’t ever know. “Some things are easier to say in the dark.”

You thought for a moment, wondering about how to beckon him closer without risking rejection, or your dignity. This shouldn’t happen; and yet, it never ever would in the light. “Then let’s stay in the dark.”

Loki didn’t respond, and silence descended upon the room again. You couldn’t stop the shivers tormenting your flesh, and your teeth clattered together as you waited for a response. This time, you were sure you were going to freeze to death, despite burning in the waiting, and yearning, and longing that rolled up and down your spine.

“But where there’s light…there’s heat,” Loki finally answered. His voice was closer, much closer now; he’d stood up, and maybe he was right next to the bed. Could you reach out and touch him? Should you?

“I’m doing just fine in the cold.”

Loki chuckled, and you felt the blankets pull away as the mattress dipped under his weight. “You shouldn’t lie to the God of Mischief, dear,” he whispered softly as he settled in behind you, curling his knees behind yours and brushing his nose against your ear.

His body was so very warm, and you were aching for his touch. “I think it’s only fair. You came to my bed, and left your blankets on the floor…” you sassed, unable to help yourself.

“You want me to retrieve them?” Loki’s voice carried the slightest hint of mockery as he started to pull away. You panicked and grabbed his hand, eagerly pulling his arm back around your waist.

“So fussy…” he murmured with a smile, his voice hot against your neck as he settled in to spoon you once more. “You want heat, but not light. You hate me, but you want me close…”

You melted in his arms, and forced out a soft, defiant sigh. “You have no idea what I want…”

“And you do?” He matched your sigh with one of his own, and pressed his hand flat against your stomach, moving languidly over the fabric of your many shirts and jackets. You could feel how much he wanted to move his hand upwards to more stimulating areas, and it was so very thrilling.

“So what do you want, hmm? Why did you tell the innkeeper we were engaged, when that wasn’t our planned cover story?” you whispered, shifting your hips and ass against his crotch.

Loki swallowed a deep groan, and you could feel your own arousal beginning to coat your inner thighs. His hand latched onto your hip, but he didn’t stop you from moving.

“Was it just to piss me off, or was it because you wanted to pretend it was true?” you continued, shifting back against him and hoping the movement would cause your clothing to reveal a little bare skin.

“The…first option. Obviously…” Loki whispered, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as his hips started to grind against yours.

You swallowed back a moan, trying desperately to ignore his hardened length against the swell of your ass. “Which one of us is the liar now?”

“Gods, do you ever stop talking?!” he hissed as he began rummaging underneath your jacket, eagerly searching for bare skin as he pulled your shirt upwards. His hand finally found your bare hip, and his touch was white hot as he began unbuttoning your jeans.

This time, you didn’t bother hiding the moan, and you twisted ever so slightly underneath the sheets to encourage him to keep going. Your heart beat frantically in your chest and your lips parted, intending to tease him one more time with the brattiest ‘make me’ ever spoken aloud…

And then his fingers dipped beneath the waistband to slip between your slick thighs.

The sound that tumbled from your lips was equally parts gasp and whimper as his fingertips grazed over your soaked clit, and his breath was heavy against your neck. “There we go. That’s more like it…” he whispered breathlessly, slowly dragging his fingers back and forth.

Your thighs drifted apart, as much as they could while trapped inside the unyielding jeans, and your hips rolled eagerly as he pressed harder against your clit. Heat flooded your veins, pooling beneath your cheeks and spilling out of your lungs as you whimpered for more.

Loki slipped his other arm around your shoulder, those fingers curling in your hair as his lips started to kiss and suck along your neck. “So sensitive…have you always been this wet for me?”

“Yes…” you moaned honestly, unable to deny it any longer. You’d say anything to make him keep going, to keep those delicate fingers pressing and massaging and coaxing endless satisfaction from you.

“That’s a shame. We could have been doing this the whole time then…” he groaned heavily, shuddering and sighing along as if he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were.

“Oh, my god - Loki!” you gasped as he slipped a finger inside, slowly pushing and withdrawing it from your swollen, throbbing pussy. Your hips bucked with his movements, and your fingers curled around your clothing, desperately trying to pull and shift to give him more room to work.

Loki smiled against your neck, and brought his lips up to nibble on your earlobe as he added a second finger. “This feels good, doesn’t it? You’re enjoying what I’m doing to you?”

That familiar coil of release was beginning to contract inside your core, tighter than it ever had before. Frantic whimpers of ecstasy fell from your lips, unashamed and without second-guessing. With your eyes closed and your hips writhing, you moaned louder and louder as your climax approached.

“Careful, little one. Do you want the innkeeper to hear us breaking our vows of chastity?” he taunted in a low, thrumming voice against your ear.

“I don’t care, I don’t care! Just, please - keep going!”

Loki’s fingers moved faster still, skillfully and without hesitation, as if he was completely determined to bring you to Heaven himself. But just as the floodgates were about to open, just as you were about to come so very hard, he cruelly withdrew his fingers.

“What?! No!” Your eyes flew open in shock as the pressure receded and the coil in your belly began to loosen.

Loki gazed at you with a triumphant grin on his face, his emerald eyes blazing in the dark. “Maybe now you’ll be nicer to me…now that you know what I can do to you…” he murmured, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking your arousal from them.

Your mind reeled uncontrollably, so furious and yet still so turned on by the pleasure he’d brought and subsequently taken from you. “I- I can’t believe you…Wh-why would you’d d-do this…?” you stammered, clumsily pushing yourself up to sitting.

Loki settled on his back, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you struggling to pull your jacket off. “Surely you can. But the real question is…what are you going to do about it, hmm?”

“Oh, my God, I hate you. I hate you so much,” you groaned as you finally freed the zipper and yanked the jacket off your frame. You stumbled out of the bed, thighs trembling violently as you worked to remove the rest of your clothing. You weren’t lying; you did hate him, but goddammit he was so alluring and you desperately needed to come.

Loki watched hungrily as you stripped the rest of your clothing away and climbed back onto the bed, settling yourself over his hips. “Well, this is certainly an interesting strategy,” he whispered as he curled a hand behind your neck and pulled your lips down to his.

You moaned deeply as you kissed him back, violently and passionately moving your lips and tongue with his. You eagerly rolled your bare pussy against his clothed hips, searching for any sort of friction and for a way to tease him more than he’d teased you, to make sure you wouldn’t be denied a second time.

He met your lips just as eagerly, groaning and moaning against your mouth as he moved his hands to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing across your nipples and driving you mad with want. Your hands moved to his jacket, grabbing and struggling to align the zipper with the chain and be able to feel his skin directly against yours.

“Use your magic, undo your clothing…” you whispered frantically against his lips, unable to see or think clearly.

“Absolutely not. Show me how much you want me…” Loki hummed teasingly, shifting his hands downwards to grasp your ass and force you to roll harder against his hips.

You grinned, pleased with his words, and pulled back to sit upright on his hips. With your full weight pressing down, you rolled yourself harder against him, and his back arched in pleasure. When his jaw clenched tight and he rolled his hips with yours, you violently pulled the jacket zipper down and then ripped his shirt open.

“Oh, you are going to pay for that, minx!” Loki hissed angrily as shirt buttons went flying across the room. He pulled his hand away as if preparing to smack your ass, but you ignored it, leaned forward to take his nipple between your lips.

Loki moaned loudly as you sucked, flicking your tongue as he squirmed and writhed beneath you. His eyes closed and both of his hands returned to your ass, and you matched every one of his moans with some of your own. Vindication and pleasure rushed up and down your spine - and then he finally magicked his clothes away.

You found yourself pressed directly against the length of his throbbing cock, and you both moaned loudly in unison at the intimate contact. He wasn’t even inside you yet, but you couldn’t believe how amazing it felt already. You shifted to bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and basking in the warmth of his naked body as your hips gyrated together.

The blizzard outside was forgotten, the cold air nipping at your bare skin was no longer a concern, and in that moment you couldn’t remember why you ever hated him. He whimpered in your ear and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as your hips writhed in unison, and soon that coil was wrapping itself around every fiber of your being again.

There was nothing anyone could do to stop you from coming this time; in fact, Loki actively encouraged you to keep going through a heated, growling voice. “Yes, take it from me. Let it all out, I’ve got you…” he commanded, his fingers pressing harder into your flesh.

The orgasm ripped through you, searing every nerve ending as you thrashed on top of him. Your fingers and toes curled beyond what you thought was ever possible, and your muscles kept tensing and relaxing, grinding and rolling in a desperate attempt to keep this pleasure flowing.

Loki held on tightly, groaning and gasping right along with you until you finally started to come back down. One by one your muscles relaxed until you lay limp, breathing heavily between parted lips on top of him. You were finally sated, with no thoughts passing through you any longer; maybe now you could finally fall asleep…

Satisfied that you had gotten yours - and the better of him - you started to roll away, but his arms tightened around your body, keeping you on top of him. “Oh, I don’t think so, darling. I’m not done with you yet…”

Your eyes fluttered back open as Loki adjusted your body on top of his, and before you could muster the strength to tease him again, he was pushing himself inside you. It felt incredible, like his body was molded to fit inside yours, and you couldn’t believe he’d somehow figured out what your favorite position was.

A deep whimper of pleasure was all you could manage as you took him in, his cock pulsating inside you and filling you entirely. Loki moved his hands back down to grip your ass as he began to thrust upwards, his thighs tensing and pelvis tilting to hit your sweet spot. You shifted your knees away from his hips and hovered above them as he drove himself into you over and over again.

Almost immediately you were on the verge of coming a second time, and you cried out his name as every nerve ending fired off in rapid succession. Loki’s thrusts were relentless as he came apart with you, his fingers digging into your flesh and hips bucking wildly and uncontrollably beneath you.

You clung to each other the entire time, your minds wracked with pleasure and bodies spent until you were both just panting and laying peacefully in each other’s arms. When clarity returned, you had no idea how to react; should you push him away? Should you say something rude? Was he going to beat you to either of those options first?

The deepest, most vulnerable part of you just wanted to stay there, lingering in the bliss you both had created with each other. You’d never had a partner this exquisite before, and you didn’t know what you were going to do when you returned home - let alone the next morning.

You nestled in against his chest and listened to the sound of his heart beating - steadily, calmly, peacefully. Loki kept his arms around you, and his fingers ran through your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he held you close.

“I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” Loki said quietly, his voice tinged with melancholy.

You blinked and cautiously brought your hand to his chest, placing it soothingly over his heart. “What do you mean?”

“Earlier you asked why I was here. I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” he repeated, placing his hand over yours. “For New York, for the pain I’ve caused my father and brother, for letting myself be - ”

Loki swallowed hard and shook his head, and could almost feel the regret swelling in his eyes. There was something important he wasn’t sharing; maybe he didn’t know how, or maybe he didn’t know if he could trust you yet. Something deep inside you longed to earn that trust, something you didn’t quite understand.

“You don’t need to say it if you don’t want to. But…I’d be willing to listen, whenever you are ready,” you replied sincerely, hoping he’d believe you. And then you continued on, to make a joke and hopefully lighten the mood. “First, though, I think we need to agree to a cease-fire. In the spirit of Christmas, and whatnot.”

Loki smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I knew you’d be the first one to concede…” he murmured playfully. “But I’m feeling generous. Let’s just call it a draw…”

Your mind reeled with possibilities, unsure of what to say that wouldn’t make anything worse or ruin the moment. “Really? I thought your hatred of me was permanent…” you answered cautiously.

Loki shifted his hand to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “I don’t hate you. You just…bewilder and confound me…”

His gaze was soft and warm, and it almost took your breath away. If he was this delicate with someone he found this irritating, how tender could he be with someone he actually loved? And could he ever actually love you someday?

You forced a smile, and traced his cheekbones with your fingertips, hoping he couldn’t read your thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe all the teasing and insulting was what made this so good?” you murmured playfully.

Loki returned your smile, although there was a hint of sadness you couldn’t quite place etched upon his features. “I suppose we’ll see what happens in tomorrow’s light, won’t we?”

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚

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cubarsis · 2 months

Text

—heated sheets | m. guiu paz

synopsis : marc needs to cuddle his girl, but it’s a little too warm for her liking.

Genre : fluff

requests are open 🎀

MARC LAY AWAKE IN THE BED, the oppressive heat of the summer night weighing heavily on him.Despite his girlfriend's presence beside him, he still felt a palpable sense of longing. He shifted closer, hoping for the warmth of her embrace, but she remained resolutely distant.

His heart sank as he realized that she didn't want to cuddle him. The heat, the discomfort-it was all too much for her. He couldn't blame her; after all, she had endured countless sleepless nights because of his insistent need for closeness.

With a heavy heart, Marc resigned himself to the reality of the situation. He turned away, trying to mask the disappointment that gnawed at him from within. Even though she was right there, the distance between them felt insurmountable.

As he lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dim light of the room, a wave of loneliness washed over him.He missed the intimacy they once shared, the simple act of holding each other close through the night.But now, with the summer heat as an unyielding barrier, their connection seemed to falter.

But she lay on her side of the bed, unmoving, the thin sheet barely covering her as she sought respite from the heat. Marc's heart ached with longing as he watched her, knowing that her inability to cuddle was not out of reluctance or indifference, but simply a concession to the sweltering temperatures in Barçelona that enveloped them.

"Please,"

he whispered, reaching out to her, his voice a desperate plea in the darkness.

"I can't sleep without you beside me. Just sleep without the blanket, baby."

"Mmm, it's too hot," her voice murmured from the other side of the bed, barely audible over the hum of the fan.

He sighed heavily, feeling the weight of loneliness settle over him like a heavy quilt. It wasn't just the physical discomfort that plagued him; it was the absence of her warmth, her presence, that left him feeling incomplete.

In the darkness of the night, his thoughts drifted to her, to the way her laughter danced like music in the air and the softness of her touch that could soothe even the deepest of wounds.

But tonight, there was no solace to be found in memories. All he wanted was her by his side, her body pressed against his, sharing in the intimacy and comfort that only a lover's embrace could provide. Yet, he knew the futility of his desires. The summer nights were relentless, the temperatures soaring to unbearable heights that made cuddling an impossible feat.

Marc felt a pang of disappointment. He understood her reluctance; after all, he was well aware of how his body heat seemed to amplify in the summer months. But still, the ache for her closeness persisted, a physical yearning that seemed impossible to ignore.

"Babe, please," he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. "I can't sleep without you. I need you here with me."

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Marc felt a shift in the air beside him. He turned to see his girlfriend's silhouette drawing nearer, her arm tentatively reaching out to envelop him in a hesitant embrace.

A rush of relief flooded through him as her warmth enveloped him, and he nestled into her embrace gratefully. But before he could fully relax, her teasing voice cut through the stillness.

"You big baby," she whispered, a playful edge to her tone. "You owe me big time for this."

Marc couldn't help but chuckle at her playful jab, grateful for her willingness to set aside her discomfort for his sake. "I'll make it up to you," he promised, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She responded with a mock glare, but the corners of her lips twitched with suppressed amusement. "You better," she warned, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his back.

"And no snoring, or I'm kicking you out to the couch."

A silent chuckle left his throat, making her able to feel his chest vibrate as her boyfriend laughs.

He laughed softly, the sound mingling with the soft hum of the fan. "Deal," he agreed, squeezing her hand in his.

The striker is quick to draw her closer into his awaiting arms that have been yearning at least half an hour for his girl's comfortable weight. Glad to finally have convinced his love to snuggle up into his warm body.

"I don't know what it is," Marc murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "but I just can't seem to settle without you."

His girlfriend's fingers traced soothing patterns on his back as she listened, her presence a comforting weight beside him in the darkness. Marc sighed, the weight of his restlessness pressing down on him like a heavy blanket.

"I toss and turn all night,"

he continued, his words tinged with frustration.

"It's like my body knows you're not here, and it just can't relax."

She squeezed his hand gently, a silent gesture of understanding. Marc shifted closer, seeking solace in the warmth of her touch.

"Thank you," he murmured, smearing a kiss to her neck. "I don't know what l'd do without you."

His girlfriend's laughter filled the room, a melody that chased away the shadows of his worries. "You'll never have to find out," she assured him, pulling him closer until their hearts beat in sync.

hectorth 2024

#ɞ 𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 #marc guiu x reader #marc guiu #marc x reader #guiu x reader #Marc guiu paz x reader #marc guiu imagine #fcb x reader #fc barcelona x reader #marc guiu fluff #pedri x reader #pablo gavi x reader

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thedensworld · 1 month

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Flower Bloomed | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: angst, romance, marriage AU

Summary: it's been a year since Mingyu and you were married. Once united by a good feeling, has started to scatter, both you and Mingyu couldn't find reason to stay together.

Author note: mention of abortion, miscarriage, murder, depression, divorcee. Don't hate me after this because i prepared one more part hehe.. Also, don't blame my baby boomer ass, i don't understand how to tag people TT

Part 2 of Falling Flower

***

"It's been a long time..." The words hung heavily in the air, mingling with the clatter of utensils in the expansive dining room of Kim's Family estate. The atmosphere was tense, palpable even in the silence that enveloped the room. No one dared to speak, their thoughts weighed down by an unspoken topic that lingered, begging to be addressed but forcibly restrained within their minds.

Mingyu, ever observant, had noticed the tension the moment you and he stepped into the room. His gaze flickered over the faces of those present, catching glimpses of suppressed emotions and silent pleas for release. Yet, he chose to remain silent, opting instead to watch the subtle shifts in your expression, which spoke volumes of your desire to escape this suffocating atmosphere.

You cast furtive glances around the room, your eyes betraying a silent plea for someone to break the stifling silence. But as the seconds ticked by, it became apparent that the weight of unspoken words held everyone in its grip, chaining their tongues and stifling any attempt at conversation.

The clatter of utensils seemed to echo louder in the silence, punctuating the tension that hung heavy in the air. Each clang reverberated through the room, a stark reminder of the unresolved emotions simmering just beneath the surface.

Despite the urge to flee, you remained rooted to your seat, your discomfort etched into every line of your face. Mingyu watched you closely, his own expression a mirror of your silent distress, yet bound by some unspoken agreement to maintain the facade of normalcy.

In the midst of this oppressive silence, the unspoken topic loomed large, casting a shadow over the room and stifling any attempts at casual conversation. It was a burden that weighed heavily on each person present, a weight that threatened to crush them under its unrelenting pressure.

And so, the minutes stretched on, each one filled with the deafening sound of silence and the unspoken words that hung suspended in the air. In the vast expanse of Kim's Family dining room, the absence of conversation spoke volumes, revealing more about the tangled web of emotions than any words ever could.

"The last time you joined us was New Year's Eve, and it's August now." Mingyu's hand faltered mid-cut, his gaze lifting to meet his mother's eyes as she voiced what had been weighing on everyone's mind since your unexpected appearance. He was poised to intercede, ready to defend you with the excuse of your busy schedule and your efforts to carve out time for today. Yet, he was caught off guard when you spoke up in your own defense, your words ringing out unexpectedly, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

Mingyu's father intervened, seeking to diffuse the tension that had settled over the table like a heavy fog. "Forget it. Y/n is with us today, and we should celebrate it," he declared, his voice carrying a note of finality as he attempted to steer the conversation onto a more positive path.

"Thank you, father," you responded softly, a hint of relief lacing your words as you acknowledged his attempt to ease the strained atmosphere. But beneath the surface, a whirlwind of emotions churned, a mix of guilt, regret, and a longing for acceptance that lingered unspoken between the lines of your apology.

Mingyu watched the exchange with a furrowed brow, his thoughts a tumultuous jumble as he grappled with conflicting emotions. He wanted to defend you, to shield you from the judgmental stares and whispered criticisms that hung heavy in the air. Yet, he also understood the weight of expectations that bore down upon you, the pressure to conform to the standards set by his family, even at the expense of your own happiness.

As the conversation shifted, Mingyu's gaze flickered between you and his family, a silent plea for understanding passing between them. In that moment, he wished for nothing more than to bridge the divide that separated you, to mend the fractured bonds that threatened to tear you apart. But he knew that such reconciliation would not come easily, that it would require patience, understanding, and a willingness to confront the underlying tensions that simmered beneath the surface.

Mingyu found himself sinking into the plush cushions of his father's office couch, the weight of the evening's tension still heavy upon his shoulders. Dinner had been a bitter affair, marked by a palpable silence that hung like a dark cloud over the table. Mingyu couldn't help but feel the weight of everyone's unspoken thoughts, knowing all too well that your presence after an extended absence had cast a shadow over the evening.

As his father poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to him, Mingyu accepted it with a grateful nod, the amber liquid offering a fleeting sense of solace in the midst of the swirling emotions that threatened to engulf him. With each sip, he felt the tension in his muscles begin to ease, though the knot of apprehension in his stomach remained stubbornly intact.

Then, his father's question cut through the stillness of the room like a knife, jolting Mingyu out of his thoughts. "Why is she here?" he asked, his tone laden with a mix of curiosity and thinly veiled disapproval as he gestured towards you.

Mingyu hesitated, his mind racing as he searched for the right words to convey the complexity of the situation. He knew that his father's question carried with it a weighty implication, a silent challenge to justify your presence in the midst of familial discord.

"She didn't even come to Minseo's wedding last month," Mingyu's father remarked, his tone laced with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. Mingyu let out a weary sigh, the weight of his father's words settling heavily upon him. It was yet another reminder of the growing chasm between you and his family, a divide that seemed to widen with each passing day.

"I thought you didn't bother at all," Mingyu interjected, his voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness as he braced himself for his father's response.

His father shrugged nonchalantly, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "I was," he admitted begrudgingly, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath the facade of indifference. "But the more I think about it, the weirder it becomes."

Mingyu furrowed his brow in confusion, struggling to decipher his father's cryptic words. "What do you mean?" he asked, his curiosity piqued despite his reservations.

"I know you two sleep separately," his father stated matter-of-factly, the blunt revelation sending a jolt of surprise coursing through Mingyu's veins. There was no attempt to mask the source of his knowledge; it was clear that Mingyu's maid had betrayed their secret, laying bare the truth for all to see.

Mingyu felt a surge of anger and embarrassment rising within him, the sting of betrayal cutting deep as he grappled with the implications of his father's words. He had hoped to shield you from the judgmental eyes of his family, to preserve some semblance of privacy in the midst of their scrutiny. Yet, it seemed that their secrets were no longer safe, laid bare for all to see in the harsh light of his father's scrutiny.

As Mingyu struggled to find his voice amidst the swirling tide of emotions, he couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal, both by his father's lack of discretion and by the revelation of their private affairs.

"I'm going to divorce her," Mingyu finally uttered, breaking the heavy silence that hung between him and his father like a suffocating shroud. His words echoed in the air, carrying with them the weight of a decision that had been looming over him for far too long.

His father's response was immediate, a mixture of surprise and skepticism etched into the lines of his face. "Are you sure? Didn't you marry her to gain leverage at JIS Corp?" he questioned, his tone betraying a hint of doubt as he sought to understand Mingyu's sudden change of heart.

Mingyu nodded, the admission hanging heavy on his conscience. "Yeah... At first," he admitted reluctantly, the weight of his confession settling like a stone in the pit of his stomach. "But I don't think it's worth it anymore. Her mother still runs the company anyway."

His father's expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing between them as they both acknowledged the futility of clinging to a marriage built on ulterior motives. "She's a bad person," his father murmured, his words tinged with bitterness as he echoed Mingyu's unspoken sentiments.

Mingyu couldn't help but agree, the memories of your mother-in-law's manipulative tactics and ruthless ambition still fresh in his mind. But as he cast a sideways glance at his father, he couldn't shake the nagging sense of guilt that gnawed at his conscience.

"She raised one too," Mingyu whispered under his breath, his words barely audible above the low hum of the room. But they fell on deaf ears, lost amidst the weight of their shared silence and the unspoken truths that lingered between them.

"How's the baby?" you asked, breaking the awkward silence that hung heavily between you and Minseo. Her hand instinctively went to her growing stomach as she replied, "She's alright," her words tinged with discomfort.

The distance between you was palpable, a stark reminder of the rift that had formed between you over time. The secrecy surrounding your families and your marriage to her brother had only served to deepen the divide, leaving your once-close friendship strained and distant.

Dongmin, Minseo's husband, approached with a plate of fruit, silently acknowledging the need for privacy between you and Minseo. As he retreated, Minseo cleared her throat, her gaze flickering between you as she struggled to find the right words to break the icy tension that hung between you.

In the pregnant pause that followed, Minseo's mind raced, torn between the desire to address the elephant in the room and the fear of opening old wounds. She knew all too well the reasons for your prolonged absence, but your sudden presence tonight had stirred up a sense of unease within her.

As she pondered her next move between bites of fruit, Minseo couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that gnawed at her insides. The weight of unspoken truths and unresolved emotions hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the once vibrant connection you shared.

In that moment, Minseo found herself grappling with a myriad of conflicting emotions, longing for the closeness you once shared even as the distance between you seemed insurmountable. But as she looked into your eyes, she couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation, unsure of what lay ahead for the fractured friendship that had once meant so much to both of you.

"Are you still working with Mr. Choi?" Minseo finally asked, breaking the strained silence that hung between you. You nodded your head in response, the motion almost automatic as you struggled to meet her gaze.

Minseo couldn't help but feel a pang of surprise at the confirmation. It seemed like just yesterday when her brother had excitedly announced his intention to marry you, catching her off guard with the suddenness of it all. In the blink of an eye, you had gone from being her best friend to her sister-in-law, and the whirlwind of emotions that followed left her reeling.

She remembered flying back to South Korea for the wedding, watching from the sidelines as you and her brother exchanged vows, a smile plastered on your face as you posed for pictures with friends and family. But beneath the facade of happiness, Minseo couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach.

As time passed, the once-close bond between you and Minseo began to fray, the demands of work and the pressures of marriage driving a wedge between you. The dinners and events that once brought you together became fewer and farther between, until eventually, you stopped attending altogether.

For Minseo, the sudden silence was deafening, leaving her to wonder what had gone wrong between you. She had tried reaching out, hoping to bridge the growing distance between you, but her attempts had been met with silence, leaving her to grapple with the painful realization that the friendship she had cherished for so long was slipping away.

And now, as she sat across from you, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the once vibrant connection you shared. In that moment, Minseo couldn't help but wonder where it had all gone wrong, and whether there was any hope of salvaging what was left of the bond that had once meant everything to her.

Mingyu approached, breaking the icy silence between you and Minseo with the simple declaration that it was time to head home. The drive wasn't far from where your conversation with Minseo had left off, but a chill lingered in your body, causing you to shudder involuntarily. Mingyu, seated beside you, remained motionless, perhaps due to the effects of the drinks he'd had at his parents' place. Yet, his sight had been closed off for months now; he hadn't truly seen you in all that time.

Once back at Mingyu's place, he left you in the living room without a word, disappearing into his room after a brief reminder about the charity ball hosted by Seungcheol's parents tomorrow. You trudged wearily to your own room, conveniently situated next to his, and locked the door behind you. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your limbs, a stark contrast to the lively dinner at Mingyu's parents' home earlier. Each step felt like a burden, as if carrying the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

"People in the company gossip about your relationship," Mingyu's mother words echoed in your mind, each syllable carrying the weight of a thousand whispers. "They even mentioned that you two are apart since March."

The rumor hung heavy in the air, suffocating the truth beneath layers of speculation and hearsay. Mingyu's mother insistence cut through the silence, a reminder of the urgent need to silence the falsehoods. "If you want to shut them up, you need to stop the rumor," she urged, her voice tinged with frustration and concern.

"You two should try to have a child again."

As you sat at your office desk, the weight of the accusations bore down on you, mingling with the scattered fragments of your daydream. Your gaze lingered on your boss's schedule for the upcoming weekend, but your thoughts were elsewhere, consumed by the relentless knocking on your door.

You realized with a jolt that you had locked the door earlier, and the persistent rapping could only mean one thing – Mingyu's arrival. With a deep breath, you prepared to face the confrontation, the anticipation building in your chest like a storm on the horizon.

"Wait a minute," you said, pausing mid-step as you rushed to open the door. Mingyu stood before you, his eyes betraying a hint of worry. He cleared his throat, quickly composing himself before asking if he could come into your room. You made room for him, allowing him to enter, and he settled onto the couch near your bed with a heavy sigh.

"I have something to tell you," he began, his tone serious as he handed you a piece of paper. Your eyes scanned the words, and a wave of unexpected realization washed over you. You looked up at Mingyu, silently demanding an explanation. He nervously bit his lip before speaking, his words laden with a mix of regret and resignation.

"This marriage... it has no reason to continue," he confessed, his gaze meeting yours with a sense of finality. You couldn't help but agree, feeling the weight of truth settle upon your shoulders.

"We rushed into this too quickly a year ago," he continued, his voice tinged with sadness. "We've lost the reason for it. And... I don't think either of us ever truly loved each other. Perhaps... I've fallen out of love too."

The words hung heavy in the air, a somber acknowledgment of the reality you both faced. As you sat on the edge of the bed, emotions swirling within you, you couldn't help but wonder how things had come to this point. It was a bittersweet realization, but one that needed to be acknowledged nonetheless.

You contemplated asking if there was someone else, but you quashed the thought, clenching your lips to stifle any potentially hurtful words. A heavy sigh escaped you, the reality sinking in sooner than anticipated.

"I thought we had another year," you murmured, the weight of the prenuptial agreement pressing on your mind. The contract stipulated a minimum of two years of marriage before considering divorce—a promise you both made before exchanging vows. Yet here you were, facing the prospect of dissolution, initiated not by you, but by Mingyu himself.

"I'm going to take responsibility for that," Mingyu uttered, his words hanging in the air, a mixture of regret and resignation evident in his tone.

Your gaze fixated once more on the divorce papers, each line a cruel reminder of shattered dreams and broken promises. Your head spun with disbelief; this wasn't the life you had envisioned just a year ago. Memories flooded in—of your childhood home, your mother's unwavering support, and the daunting uncertainty that awaited you beyond the confines of this crumbling marriage.

"How about my rights? My mother won't give up on me before our two-year anniversary," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the weight of disappointment.

He bowed his head, his expression pained with apology. "I'm sorry..."

In that moment, Kim Mingyu became the living embodiment of abandonment. It was a stark realization that perhaps, in this cold and unforgiving world, no one truly cared about you. As the weight of loneliness settled upon your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel betrayed by the very person you once believed would be your lifelong companion.

Months had passed since the last time he had seen you dress up, and as you approached him in the living room, clad in a long, enticing red dress that hugged your curves, he was reminded of just how much he had missed the sight of you all dolled up. He rose from the couch, urgency flickering in his eyes, gesturing for you to hurry as the event awaited, yet you both remained within the confines of your home.

As Mingyu prepared to step out of the entrance, you halted him with a subtle hand gesture, drawing him closer as you deftly adjusted his tie and smoothed down his suit. The sudden proximity caught him off guard, his breath catching in his throat as he felt the warmth of your body pressed against his. The scent of your perfume enveloped him, a familiar yet intoxicating aroma that never failed to stir something deep within him, a reminder of his adoration for you.

Upon arrival, the atmosphere crackled with a palpable surprise that mirrored the astonishment seen on Mingyu's family's faces during last night's dinner. Your unexpected presence amidst the socialite crowd stirred whispers and raised eyebrows, the subject of endless speculation and gossip during your absence from such gatherings.

As Mingyu guided you through the room, his hand lingering possessively around your waist, it was a scene reminiscent of days gone by, a familiar tableau that seemed to defy the rumors swirling around your relationship. The sight of the two of you together, united against the backdrop of societal expectations, left many gaping in disbelief.

Approaching Seungcheol, the host of the event and Mingyu's best friend, Mingyu couldn't help but notice the genuine warmth in your smile as Seungcheol greeted you both with enthusiasm. With a gentle tug, you were whisked away by Seungcheol's wife to mingle with other socialites, leaving Mingyu to engage in conversation with Seungcheol and Jeon Wonwoo, his trusted confidant from college.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Kim Mingyu. I don't like your wife's mood at work today," Seungcheol bluntly expressed, finally voicing the concern that had been weighing on his mind since his interactions with you earlier that morning.

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up in acknowledgment, recognizing the unique influence Mingyu held over the situation. "Only Mingyu could manage that," he remarked, a subtle nod to your exceptional professionalism and dedication as Seungcheol's trusted secretary.

Mingyu's sigh resonated with a sense of resignation, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of Seungcheol's observation. "I haven't done anything," he admitted wearily, the frustration evident in his voice as he sought refuge in the simple act of sipping his wine, a temporary respite from the complexities of the situation.

Wonwoo's gaze bored into Mingyu, who nervously swallowed his saliva. The tension between them was palpable, Mingyu's discomfort evident in every shift of his weight. He despised Wonwoo's uncanny ability to read people, a skill that made him feel exposed and vulnerable.

Mingyu believed that Seungcheol, their mutual friend, was oblivious to the true nature of his marriage. He trusted that Seungcheol saw only what he wanted to see: a seemingly happy couple. After all, Seungcheol had witnessed firsthand how formidable you could be when dealing with Mingyu's shortcomings.

But Wonwoo was a different breed altogether. He possessed a keen intuition, capable of detecting even the slightest hint of deception. From the moment Mingyu had confessed his impending marriage, Wonwoo had sensed something amiss.

"Did you knock somebody?" Wonwoo's first sentence upon hearing Mingyu's announcement cut through the air like a knife, sharp and unforgiving. It was a direct challenge, a probing inquiry designed to unearth the truth buried beneath Mingyu's carefully constructed facade.

As Mingyu stood before Wonwoo, his facade crumbled under the weight of scrutiny, his discomfort laid bare for all to see. He could feel the weight of Wonwoo's gaze bearing down on him, exposing his innermost fears and insecurities. In that moment, Mingyu realized that he could never truly escape Wonwoo's penetrating gaze, nor could he hide the truth from someone who could smell deception from a mile away.

Once Seungcheol was called away by his parents, Mingyu swore he felt a shiver run down his spine as Wonwoo spoke. "What's with her presence tonight? I feel like something's up." The intensity of Wonwoo's observation sent a chill through Mingyu, his nerves already frayed from the tension between them.

Shaking his head, Mingyu cautioned his friend, "Don't jinx anything or it'll happen." He knew all too well the power of suggestion, especially when it came from someone as perceptive as Wonwoo.

But Wonwoo merely scoffed at Mingyu's warning. "I'm relieved I'm not married. Married men are sensitive, just look at Seungcheol hyung." He gestured towards the older man with a knowing smirk, emphasizing his point.

Mingyu nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his wine to mask his unease. "You're right. Don't get married," he replied, the weight of his own marital struggles weighing heavily on his mind.

Wonwoo's smirk only widened at Mingyu's response. "Got you!" he declared triumphantly, reveling in his ability to tease his friend mercilessly. The playful banter between them did little to ease Mingyu's apprehension, however, as he couldn't shake the feeling that Wonwoo saw right through him, unraveling his secrets with every word exchanged.

Mingyu let out a curse under his breath, his frustration evident as he averted his gaze from his friend. His eyes landed on your figure standing a few feet away, engrossed in conversation with an unfamiliar man. Mingyu's brow furrowed in concern as he turned back to Wonwoo.

"Who's that?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Wonwoo followed Mingyu's gaze to where you stood, conversing with the stranger. "Ah, that's Lee Seokmin," Wonwoo explained, his tone casual. "He's the son of Dr. Lee from Seoul University Hospital. I heard he's also a doctor."

Mingyu's frown deepened. "Why is he talking to Y/n?" Mingyu's protective instincts kicked in, his mind racing with questions and scenarios.

Wonwoo shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe they know each other," he suggested. "I've heard Seokmin is a really friendly and affectionate person. He's quite charming, from what I've heard."

Mingyu's unease grew as he watched the interaction between you and Seokmin, his gut twisting with a mixture of jealousy and concern. Despite Wonwoo's attempt to ease his worries, Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the encounter than met the eye.

Mingyu's brows furrowed deeply, his dislike evident in the creases of his forehead and the tension in his jaw. He couldn't help but feel a pang of unease at the sight of you conversing so effortlessly with another man. It was rare for you to befriend anyone outside your small circle, especially a man. As far as Mingyu knew, your only close friend was Minseo, and you rarely had any male friends aside from colleagues from work.

Mingyu had been prepared to approach you after handing his glass to Wonwoo. However, his intentions were abruptly halted when a groan echoed from the other side of the room, followed by urgent voices calling for a doctor. Mingyu's heart skipped a beat as he turned to see his father slumped into a colleague's arms, clutching his chest in pain. It was happening again—his father's heart troubles.

Without a moment's hesitation, Mingyu sprang into action, his adrenaline kicking in as he rushed to his father's side. Ignoring the curious gazes and the frantic murmurs around him, he focused solely on his father's well-being. With trembling hands, he called out for someone to dial the emergency number, his voice cutting through the chaos of the room.

Fear and urgency flooded Mingyu's senses as he knelt beside his father, his heart pounding in his chest. In that moment, nothing else mattered to him except ensuring his father received the help he desperately needed.

As Mingyu knelt by his father's side, panic and desperation etched on his face, you and Seokmin approached. Seokmin wasted no time in announcing himself as a doctor, offering his assistance in the tense situation. However, before Seokmin could fully extend his help, Mingyu shot him a gaze so intense it momentarily caught Seokmin off guard. The unspoken tension between them hung thick in the air, palpable to anyone observing.

You watched the exchange between Mingyu and Seokmin, sensing the growing discomfort and suspicion emanating from Mingyu. Recognizing the need to diffuse the situation and allow Seokmin to attend to Mingyu's father, you gently intervened. Placing a reassuring hand on Mingyu's shoulder, you spoke softly but firmly.

"He's a doctor, Mingyu. You need to trust him. Your father will be alright," you urged, your voice laced with conviction. With a gentle tug, you pulled Mingyu away from the scene, guiding him to a safe distance where he could observe without feeling overwhelmed by the unfolding events.

Mingyu sat alone in front of his father's patient room, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He absentmindedly picked up a phone call from Wonwoo and Seungcheol, grateful for the distraction, but also using the moment to let himself calm after the pounding in his chest earlier. Leaning his head against the cool wall, he closed his eyes briefly, trying to steady his racing thoughts.

The soft click of the door opening broke the silence, and Mingyu's eyes blinked open to find you entering the room. Wordlessly, you settled beside him, a comforting presence in the midst of his turmoil. No words were exchanged, but the sounds of your breaths and sighs filled the space, offering a sense of solace.

"I'm sorry for earlier," Mingyu finally spoke, his voice tinged with remorse. "I was losing my cool."

He watched as you nodded understandingly, your expression gentle and empathetic. "It's okay, I understand," you murmured softly, mirroring his position as you leaned against the wall beside him. In that moment, Mingyu felt a weight lift off his shoulders, grateful for your silent support amidst the chaos of his emotions.

Mingyu's gaze shifted from the scene in front of him to your face, his heart clenching with a tumultuous mix of emotions. Anger simmered beneath the surface as he watched you sit beside him, your presence a stark reminder of the connection you once shared. The sight of you with another man reignited the flames of jealousy within him, fueling his inner turmoil.

Closing his eyes tightly, Mingyu struggled to make sense of his conflicting feelings. Where had the love he once harbored for you gone? Where were the tender emotions that used to fill his heart at the sight of your smile?

His chest tightened with an indiscernible ache as he wrestled with these questions, grappling with the realization that the love he once thought was eternal had somehow slipped through his fingers. In that moment of vulnerability, Mingyu couldn't help but wonder if there was any hope left for the fractured pieces of his heart.

He glanced at you once again, his gaze boring into yours with a mixture of resentment and disappointment. You turned your head to meet his stare, but the warmth and affection that once radiated from his eyes were now replaced by cold indifference. Everything about you seemed to fuel his growing disdain and anger, each breath becoming shallower, sweat trickling down his forehead, and his fingers clenching into tight fists.

As he sat there, consumed by memories of betrayal and heartache, Mingyu couldn't help but wonder how everything had unraveled so quickly. The pain of realizing that the person he once cherished was capable of such deception gnawed at his soul, leaving him feeling hollow and broken.

In that moment, amidst the silence that hung heavily between them, Mingyu knew that the love he once felt for you had been irreparably tainted by the bitterness of betrayal. And as he stared into your eyes, all he could see was the reflection of his own shattered dreams and misplaced trust.

His mind drifted back to the moment when his feelings for you began to sour, a pivotal moment etched into his memory like a scar. It was the day he stumbled upon that innocuous piece of paper tucked away in your desk, a note filled with secrets and lies that shattered his trust in you. From that moment on, the love he once held for you had gradually withered away, leaving behind a festering wound that refused to heal.

"Tell me, what is it?" Mingyu's voice cut through the tense silence as he confronted you with the paper clenched tightly in his hand. You approached him cautiously, your heart pounding with apprehension as you took the paper from him. It was an abortion form from the hospital, a stark reminder of the decision you were contemplating.

"You want an abortion? After everything we've been through, I thought you finally could accept me, accept them, accept us!" Mingyu's words were laced with hurt and disbelief, his eyes searching yours for some semblance of understanding.

"Why are you so selfish, Y/n? Don't you ever think about my feelings?" His voice cracked with emotion, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air between you.

"Mingyu, I can explain..." you began, but he cut you off with a weary sigh.

"Stop it, Y/n. You're a grown-up, you're capable of deciding what you want, considering the kind of childhood you had," Mingyu's tone was resigned, his disappointment palpable.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you because of your mom, but our child doesn't deserve the same treatment. You want to... to kill them? That's evil, Y/n," Mingyu's voice wavered with a mixture of anger and sorrow, his heart breaking at the thought of losing the child he had already grown to love.

"You're just like your mom," the words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and pain, as Mingyu turned away from you, unable to bear the weight of the truth any longer.

.Weeks later, you found yourself standing in front of Mingyu's door, your hand poised to knock. With a deep breath, you hesitated, nerves fluttering in your stomach as you prepared yourself for what lay beyond that threshold. But before you could make a move, the door swung open, revealing Mingyu standing there in his pajamas, a mug in hand.

Surprise flickered across your features as you met his gaze, uncertainty mingling with a glimmer of hope in your heart. Mingyu's expression was unreadable, his eyes guarded as he studied you in silence. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between you.

Finally, Mingyu broke the silence, his voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

You swallowed hard, searching for the right words to convey the turmoil swirling within you. "I... I wanted to talk," you replied hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu nodded, his gesture a silent invitation for you to enter. "I was about to grab some water. Do you want some?" he offered, his voice tinged with a hint of warmth that belied the tension lingering between you.

Grateful for his kindness, you accepted his offer and followed him into his sanctuary. The room felt familiar yet foreign, a sanctuary for both of you months ago before you decided to sleep in the other room. He motioned for you to sit on the sofa next to his bed while he settled himself at his office desk, the glow of his computer screen casting shadows across his features.

As you watched him, a pang of guilt tugged at your heart. Mingyu seemed lost in his thoughts, his brow furrowed with concentration as he continued to work even in this late hour. The sight of him laboring away despite the heaviness weighing on his shoulders filled you with a sense of admiration and regret.

"If I'm disturbing you from working, we can talk tomorrow morning," you offered tentatively, the doubt evident in your voice.

Mingyu shook his head, his expression softening with understanding. "I'm done anyway," he replied, his fingers moving to shut off his computer with a decisive click. Turning his full attention to you, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching yours for answers.

"What is it you want to say?" he asked, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. In that moment, as you sat face to face with Mingyu in the quiet solitude of his room, you knew that the time for honesty and reconciliation had finally come.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. "I'm aware that Seungcheol might have already told you about this, but I'm resigning," you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil churning within you.

Mingyu nodded, his expression somber as he removed his glasses, the weariness evident in the lines etched on his face. "Yeah, he called me right away," he confirmed, his hand moving to massage his forehead in a gesture of exhaustion.

"After we divorced, I'm going to move to Canada," you continued, your words heavy with the weight of impending change. "I'm going to have treatment there."

As you spoke, Mingyu's gaze softened, a mixture of understanding and sadness flickering in his eyes. Mingyu's brow furrowed, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Is our psychiatrist here not enough that you have to get treated there?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

You nodded, unable to muster the strength to offer a further explanation. Despite his inquiry, Mingyu's gaze seemed distant, his attention drifting away as if the topic held no significance to him. It was a stark reminder that the care and concern he once held for you had long since dissipated, replaced by an indifferent detachment.

As you looked at Mingyu, a pang of sadness tugged at your heart. The realization that he no longer had any interest in your well-being only served to deepen the rift between you, highlighting the distance that had grown between you over time.

"What about you? Do you have any plans after our divorce settlement?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the impending separation hanging heavily between you.

Mingyu shook his head, his response clipped and devoid of emotion. "I'm just going to live my life like usual," he replied, his tone betraying the indifference he felt towards the situation. It was a stark reminder of the disconnect that had grown between you, the sense of being mere strangers occupying the same space.

As the conversation turned towards your impending move and your relationship with your mother, Mingyu's demeanor remained distant, his words lacking any genuine concern. The tension between you hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating any hope of reconciliation or understanding.

With each passing moment, the discomfort in your stomach grew, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil swirling within you. You struggled to maintain your composure as the pain intensified, your mind racing with unanswered questions and unspoken fears.

Feeling lightheaded and nauseous, you knew you couldn't continue the conversation any longer. With a trembling voice, you declared that you were done talking, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of Mingyu's presence.

As you rose from your seat, the cramps in your stomach intensified, sending waves of agony coursing through your body. With every step, you fought to conceal your pain, unwilling to show any weakness in front of Mingyu.

But as you turned to leave, a burning question lingered in your mind, demanding to be heard. With a shaky breath, you uttered his name, your voice barely a whisper in the silence of the room.

"Mingyu..."

"Don't you wanna know my feelings about our divorcee?"

There was a pregnant pause as you awaited his response, the tension thickening between you like a taut string on the verge of snapping. And then, finally, his answer came, cold and final.

"I know you've been waiting for this. I'm sorry for holding you long enough."

His words pierced through you like a dagger, the finality of his apology crushing any lingering hope of salvaging what was left of your relationship. With a heavy heart, you turned away, the weight of his indifference crushing you as you stumbled towards the door.

But before you could escape, the pain became too much to bear, and darkness closed in around you, pulling you into unconsciousness. And as you crumpled to the floor, the last thing you saw was Mingyu's impassive gaze, a silent witness to the collapse of everything you had once held dear.

Three weeks before Seungcheol's wedding, life was a whirlwind of chaos and excitement. As his trusted assistant, you juggled his hectic schedule while also overseeing the wedding preparations. However, there was an added complication: you were five months pregnant. Only a month had passed since your honeymoon, and taking leave now would burden everyone. Despite feeling a severe burning sensation in your chest, you soldiered on, determined not to let anyone down.

On that fateful day, after wrapping up a meeting with a client alongside Seungcheol and Junhui, the sensation in your chest escalated, leaving you gasping for air. You motioned desperately to Junhui for assistance, the panic evident in your eyes. Seungcheol, occupied with driving his own car, was unaware of your distress as you shared a vehicle with Junhui. Sensing the urgency, Junhui wasted no time and swiftly steered the car towards the nearest hospital.

The drive felt agonizingly long as you struggled to maintain composure, each breath a struggle against the tightening grip of fear. Junhui's concern was palpable, his hands gripping the steering wheel with a mixture of urgency and worry. With each passing moment, the weight of the situation pressed down upon you, threatening to overwhelm.

Finally, the hospital loomed into view, a beacon of hope in the midst of turmoil. Junhui guided you inside, his steadying presence offering a sliver of reassurance amidst the chaos. As you were ushered into the emergency room, a flood of emotions washed over you – fear, uncertainty, and a profound sense of vulnerability.

In that moment, as you awaited medical attention, the true magnitude of the situation dawned upon you. The wedding, the responsibilities, all faded into insignificance in the face of this sudden health crisis. All that mattered now was the well-being of yourself and your unborn child.

For the first time, you heard the dreaded words: preeclampsia. The burning sensation that had plagued you for days, you now learned, wasn't just discomfort—it was a warning sign, a miniature heart attack triggered by hypertension during your pregnancy.

"Mrs. Ji," the doctor's voice pulled you from your thoughts, "from your health records, it appears you were in a car accident twenty years ago. Do you recall what injuries you sustained?"

Your head shook slowly, memories from that time shrouded in fog. "No," you murmured, "I barely remember anything from back then."

Doctor Lee Seokmin nodded, his expression grave. "It seems you underwent both heart and neurosurgery as a result of that accident. Unfortunately, those procedures have contributed to your current struggle with preeclampsia during this pregnancy."

A furrow formed between your brows as you processed the implications. "What should I do?" Your hands instinctively moved to cradle your burgeoning stomach, a protective gesture.

"It's strongly recommended that you consider terminating the pregnancy before it's too late," Dr. Lee advised gently. "Carrying the baby poses significant risks to your health, even to the point of endangering your life."

The weight of his words settled heavily upon you. "In simpler terms," he continued, his tone sympathetic yet firm, "your heart is struggling to supply blood for both you and the baby. Not only does this jeopardize your own safety, but the chances of the baby surviving are also slim. I urge you to carefully consider your options."

Tears welled in your eyes as the gravity of the situation sank in. It was a devastating choice to make, a painful crossroads where the life of your unborn child hung in the balance against your own.

Your heart ached with the weight of the decision ahead. Every beat seemed to echo the uncertainty of your future, intertwined with the life growing within you. As you sat in the sterile hospital room, the silence enveloped you, broken only by the rhythmic hum of medical equipment.

The thought of ending the pregnancy felt like a betrayal—a betrayal to the life blossoming inside you, a betrayal to the dreams you had woven around the idea of motherhood. But the stark reality laid out by Dr. Lee left little room for sentimentality. It was a matter of survival, a harsh truth that demanded to be faced.

You turned your gaze to your stomach, where the faint flutter of movement reminded you of the fragile existence nestled within. How could you choose between your own life and the life you had already begun to nurture?

Questions swirled in your mind, each one a thorn digging deeper into your already burdened heart. Would you be able to live with the knowledge that your decision may cost the life of your child? Could you bear the guilt of choosing self-preservation over the chance of motherhood?

Yet amidst the turmoil, a glimmer of resolve flickered within you. As painful as it was, you knew that you couldn't risk leaving your family behind, couldn't bear the thought of leaving your loved ones to mourn a life lost too soon.

With a heavy sigh, you met Dr. Lee's gaze, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. It was time to make the choice that would shape the course of your future, a choice that carried the weight of both sorrow and hope.

At the end, you still choose chance of motherhood. You'll found solution along with Mingyu. You would never terminate your pregnancy.

One haunting truth lingered in the shadows of your mind, a specter of betrayal from the past. It was the knowledge that your own mother had once plotted to end your life in that fateful car accident. Night after night, you found yourself jolting awake from restless slumber, the echoes of that near-tragedy replaying in your nightmares.

Mingyu, your husband, was keenly aware of your nightly struggles. Yet, despite his understanding, a palpable distance had settled between you in the wake of the doctor's grim recommendation. The discovery of the abortion form seemed to widen the chasm, a silent testament to the gulf that had formed between your hearts.

You found solace in the nursery room, seeking refuge amidst the soft hues and gentle whispers of promise that filled the space. But even here, the weight of Mingyu's silence pressed down upon you like an unbearable burden. Each night, as you lay alone in the darkness, tears would silently trace their paths down your cheeks, mingling with the whispers of doubt that haunted your thoughts.

Breakfast became a solitary affair, the clink of utensils against porcelain echoing in the empty spaces between you. And though you shared the same table come dinnertime, the silence between you was deafening, each lost in the labyrinth of your own thoughts.

You longed for the warmth of Mingyu's embrace, for the reassurance of his presence in the midst of uncertainty. Yet, his absence—both physical and emotional—cast a shadow over your shared existence, leaving you adrift in a sea of solitude.

As the days stretched into a week of silent anguish, you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end, if the fractures in your relationship would widen into irreparable chasms. And in the quiet of the night, as sleep eluded you once more, you found yourself grappling with the weight of unanswered questions and the ache of unspoken words.

As you stepped through the threshold of your home, a sense of unease gripped you at the sight of the moving crew bustling about, their movements purposeful as they carted away pieces of your life. The crib, once a symbol of hope and anticipation, now stood bereft of its place in the nursery.

Summoning a flicker of courage, you ventured into the room, your heart pounding with a mixture of trepidation and determination. Mingyu, usually ensconced in his office, was seated at his desk, his attention focused on the screen before him.

"Why are they moving our stuff?" you ventured, the words trembling on your lips as you sought his gaze.

His response was chilling, devoid of the warmth and familiarity you had grown accustomed to. "What stuff?" His tone was colder than the winter wind, sending shivers down your spine.

A surge of panic rose within you as you struggled to find your voice. "They moved out our baby stuff!" The words spilled out, laced with desperation and a tinge of disbelief.

But Mingyu's reply pierced through the fragile facade of hope, extinguishing it with brutal finality. "We don't have a baby." His words hung in the air like a heavy curtain, separating you from the life you had envisioned together.

The weight of his denial crushed you, leaving you gasping for breath in its suffocating grip. How could he dismiss the dreams you had nurtured, the plans you had woven for the future? It felt like a betrayal, a betrayal of the love you had shared and the promises you had made to each other.

Tears welled in your eyes as the reality of his words sank in, a painful reminder of the chasm that had widened between you. And as you stood there, face to face with the stark truth of your shattered hopes, you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end—a silent requiem for the life that might have been.

The air crackled with tension as you took determined steps towards Mingyu's desk, your heart pounding in your chest. With a trembling hand, you reached out and turned off his computer, the abruptness of the action punctuating the charged atmosphere.

"What do you mean? Stop acting like this!" Your voice wavered with a mixture of frustration and desperation, the words tumbling out in a rush as you confronted him head-on.

Mingyu's gaze flickered up to meet yours, annoyance flashing in his eyes. "Do whatever you want, Y/n," he replied curtly, his tone laced with indifference.

"Kim Mingyu!" The use of his full name was a reflex, a testament to the gravity of the situation that hung between you like a heavy fog.

A bitter taste rose in your throat as his words cut through the silence like a knife. "Seeing them makes me sick, Y/n," he spat, his voice tinged with a venomous edge.

Your heart clenched at his callousness, the sting of betrayal slicing through the facade of composure you had struggled to maintain. "Don't you see how betrayed I am right now?" Mingyu pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I love you! I love our life! But seeing that abortion form hurt me."

Tears threatened to spill over as you struggled to convey the depth of your pain, the weight of Mingyu's words bearing down on you like a crushing burden. The rift between you felt insurmountable, a gaping chasm that threatened to swallow you whole.

But amidst the turmoil, a flicker of hope remained—a glimmer of the love that had once bound you together, a fragile thread that refused to be severed. And as you stood there, locked in a battle of wills and emotions, you couldn't help but wonder if there was still a chance to bridge the divide and find solace in each other's arms once more.

"Stop acting like you're the only one suffering here!" The words burst forth from your lips, fueled by a potent mix of frustration and despair. "I don't want to do it either! But I have to, Mingyu! I have to!" Each syllable was laden with the weight of your anguish, the struggle to convey the depth of your turmoil.

Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable as he listened to your impassioned plea. But when he scoffed in response, a surge of indignation rose within you like a tidal wave. "Don't you see I'm working on it?" you cried out, your voice trembling with emotion. "I'm trying my best to keep them. Stop telling me I'm selfish! You're selfish, you only think about what you're feeling this week and you left me! You left me alone!"

The accusation hung heavy in the air, a bitter truth laid bare in the starkness of your words. Mingyu's silence spoke volumes, his refusal to acknowledge your pain a sharp sting that cut deeper than any words could.

"So your feeling is the only one that's valid?" Mingyu's voice sliced through the silence like a blade, his tone laced with disdain.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, a silent testament to the turmoil raging within you. "You don't know what kind of sorrow I've been hiding until they turned into anger," you mumbled, the weight of your confession hanging heavy in the air.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, unable to bear the weight of his indifference any longer. "And now, I'm the bad person," you whispered to yourself, the words a bitter reminder of the rift that had formed between you.

Leaving Mingyu in his office, you retreated to the sanctuary of the nursery, seeking solace amidst the familiar surroundings. With a heavy sigh, you instructed your house assistant to have a bed and your belongings moved into the child's room, unable to face Mingyu with the swirling emotions that threatened to consume you whole.

Mingyu stood vigil beside your hospital bed, his heart heavy with worry and uncertainty. The sight of you collapsing before his very eyes had propelled him into action, rushing you to the hospital in a frantic blur of fear and desperation. Now, as he waited for you to wake, he could only hope and pray that the doctors would bring him good news.

The doctor's somber presence loomed over Mingyu, a harbinger of the grim tidings that were to come. His voice, measured and grave, cut through the silence like a blade, delivering the devastating news of your deteriorating health.

"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. Kim, but the cancerous growth in your wife's cervix has progressed significantly," the doctor intoned, his words hanging heavy in the air like a dark cloud.

Mingyu's brow furrowed in confusion, his mind struggling to grasp the gravity of the situation. "What do you mean? What cancer?" he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation.

The doctor's sympathetic gaze softened as he attempted to simplify the complex medical details for Mingyu's benefit. "The cancer has spread, Mr. Kim. It's worsening, and we need to discuss our options moving forward."

Panic surged within Mingyu like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm him as he grappled with the harsh reality of your diagnosis. "But she's young, she's healthy," he protested, his voice laced with disbelief. "How could this happen?"

In response, the doctor guided Mingyu through the medical history recorded in your files, shedding light on the shadowy truths hidden within. "In your wife's medical records, it's noted that she experienced a miscarriage in February, likely due to complications related to the cervical tumor."

The mention of the miscarriage sent a shiver down Mingyu's spine, a cruel reminder of the pain and suffering you had endured in silence. "A miscarriage?" he echoed, the word heavy with sorrow and regret.

"Yes, Mr. Kim," the doctor confirmed gently. "I'll arrange for you to meet with the physician who has been attending to your wife. We'll discuss the next steps together."

"I'm sorry that you have to find out this way, Mr. Kim," Dr. Lee Seokmin stated with genuine regret, his voice heavy with sympathy. He watched Mingyu closely, noting the confusion that flickered across his face before understanding settled in. Mingyu's expression shifted, revealing a mix of disbelief and realization.

Dr. Lee's regretful tone only deepened Mingyu's sense of unease. How long had you been living with this condition without even him knowing? The weight of the revelation settled heavily on his shoulders, and Mingyu felt a surge of conflicting emotions—anger, confusion, and a profound sense of loss for the time he could never get back.

As the truth sank in, Mingyu found himself grappling with a new reality, one he hadn't anticipated when he walked through the office doors. Dr. Lee's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the importance of staying vigilant about one's health. Mingyu nodded slowly, his mind whirring with unanswered questions and a newfound determination to confront whatever lay ahead.

"This is what her cervix looks like," Dr. Lee explained, his voice somber as he pointed to the results of your x-rays, highlighting the ominous spread of cancer. Mingyu's eyes widened as he took in the stark contrast between the current image and the last one, where the cancerous tumor had been detected.

"I already suggested Mrs. Ji to do her chemotherapy a week after her miscarriage, but I did understand why she didn't come. However, she hasn't come at all," Dr. Lee continued, his tone tinged with disappointment and concern.

Mingyu's heart sank as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. He felt a heavy weight settle in the pit of his stomach, accompanied by a sense of helplessness. His mind raced with thoughts of you, your missed appointments, and the potential consequences of your absence.

A heavy sigh escaped Mingyu's lips, betraying the turmoil raging within him. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a nagging question persisted, demanding to be acknowledged.

"Miscarriage?" Mingyu finally spoke, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and desperation. It was a question that had been haunting him since he first learned of your diagnosis. Denial clawed at the edges of his consciousness, but deep down, he knew he couldn't ignore the harsh reality laid out before him any longer.

"Yes, Mr. Kim," Dr. Lee began, his tone gentle yet firm as he sought to elucidate the complexities of your situation to Mingyu. "She had refused to undergo the abortion and chose to proceed with the pregnancy after experiencing her first bout of preeclampsia in the last week of January."

Mingyu listened intently, his brow furrowed in concentration as he absorbed the gravity of Dr. Lee's words. The choice you had made, despite the risks and uncertainties, spoke volumes about your unwavering determination and resilience.

"However," Dr. Lee continued, his voice tinged with regret, "she suffered a miscarriage on February 20th due to stress and exhaustion, which later led us to discover the presence of her tumor."

The weight of the revelation hung heavy in the air, a sobering reminder of the fragility of life and the trials you had endured in silence. Mingyu's heart ached with the weight of the knowledge, the pain of your loss etched into the lines of his face.

As Dr. Lee moved on to the next slide, outlining potential treatment options for your condition, Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on the screen, his mind racing with a flurry of emotions. Hope mingled with apprehension as he considered the possibility of a path forward, one that held the promise of healing and renewal.

With each word spoken by the doctor, Mingyu felt a glimmer of hope begin to take root within him, a beacon of light amidst the darkness that had clouded his thoughts. And as he looked towards the future, his resolve hardened, his determination to stand by your side unwavering in the face of adversity.

"In South Korea, we haven't had access to this technology," Dr. Lee explained, his tone tinged with a note of regret. "However, this treatment has been proven with an 80% success rate in terminating cervical cancer and is available in Ottawa."

As the words sank in, a realization dawned on Mingyu. You wanted to go to Canada for treatment all along. But why hadn't you mentioned it earlier? Why keep it a secret until now? Mingyu's mind buzzed with questions, each one a jagged edge cutting into the fragile fabric of trust between you.

Lost in his thoughts, Mingyu hadn't even realized that he had been studying your face, searching for answers in the depths of your expression. But all he found was the echo of his own confusion mirrored back at him, a silent testament to the barriers that had grown between you.

A swell of emotions threatened to overwhelm Mingyu as he grappled with the revelation, his heart heavy with the weight of betrayal and longing. Had you been hiding the truth from him all along? And if so, why? The questions swirled in his mind, a relentless storm that refused to be quelled.

But amidst the turmoil, Mingyu couldn't deny the flicker of hope that ignited within him—the possibility of finding a solution, a lifeline in the form of treatment abroad. And as he looked towards the future, his determination hardened, his resolve to stand by your side unwavering in the face of adversity.

Regret washed over Mingyu like a torrential downpour, each drop heavy with the weight of missed opportunities and misunderstood intentions. The abortion form you had brought home—the very same document he had reacted to with such cold indifference—was now a haunting reminder of the choices you had made: to keep the baby and the assumptions he had drawn.

It dawned on Mingyu with a gut-wrenching clarity that the moment you had returned home without a baby bump, it wasn't because you had terminated the pregnancy, but because you had suffered a miscarriage. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning, electrifying his senses with the stark truth of your pain.

Tears welled up in Mingyu's eyes, his vision blurred as he grappled with the possibility that his actions, his lack of understanding and support, may have played a role in your suffering. The thought pierced through the armor of his pride, leaving him vulnerable and exposed to the raw emotions that surged within him.

Guilt clawed at Mingyu's chest, a relentless monster gnawing at his conscience as he wrestled with the consequences of his ignorance. Had he been too quick to judge, too blind to see the depth of your struggles? The realization gnawed at him, a bitter pill to swallow as he confronted the harsh truth of his own shortcomings.

In that moment, as tears silently trailed down his cheeks, Mingyu found himself consumed by a sense of profound remorse—a longing to turn back the hands of time and rewrite the narrative, to be the partner you needed in your darkest hour. But as the weight of his regrets settled upon him, Mingyu knew that he could only move forward, armed with the newfound clarity of hindsight and a determination to make amends.

"How far along are you?" Mingyu's voice cut through the tense air of the room as he sat confidently in front of your mother, the formidable CEO of JIS Corp. She exuded an aura of sharpness and rigidity, her piercing gaze sizing him up with every word she spoke.

You sat nervously beside Mingyu, acutely aware of the weight of your mother's scrutiny as she fired off a series of offensive questions, her demeanor dripping with arrogance. Mingyu, however, remained unfazed, his posture exuding confidence as he mirrored your mother's demeanor, ready to engage in the contest of wills that lay before him.

"I'm in my fourth month," you answered quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to maintain your composure under your mother's intense scrutiny.

As your mother settled into her seat across from you and Mingyu, her body language radiated dominance, a stark contrast to Mingyu's calm and collected demeanor. Despite the tension that hung in the air, Mingyu pressed on, determined to make a favorable impression on your mother, the woman who held the key to your future.

Your mother asked you to leave her alone with him. Mingyu sent you an assurance nodd before you rose from your seat and walked away to the kitchen.

"You know Y/n is not my daughter?" your mother's question hung in the air, a challenge disguised as a statement.

Mingyu nodded calmly, his gaze meeting your mother's without hesitation. "I'm aware of that," he replied evenly, "but she was legally adopted by your husband before he married you. So while she may not be biologically related to you, she is legally your daughter."

"What do you want, Kim Mingyu?" your mother's voice dripped with skepticism, her tone a clear indication that she was not easily swayed.

Mingyu's response was swift and direct. "Your resort label is facing bankruptcy," he began, his voice steady and confident. "I propose a merger with my own label. You'll gain financial stability and a positive reputation, while also giving Y/n her rightful share and putting an end to your surveillance of her."

As your mother considered his offer, Mingyu continued, his tone unwavering. "After marrying me, Y/n will gain social power and influence. She'll be able to hold JIS Corp accountable if they continue to deny her rights as an heir."

Your mother hesitated for a moment before raising two fingers in a gesture of negotiation. "Two years. Two years of merger, and then I'll hand her the share."

Mingyu shook his head firmly. "A year," he countered, his resolve unwavering.

"Two," your mother insisted, her tone firm.

Mingyu leaned back in his seat, shaking his head once more. "Then forget it. My resort label is too valuable to be compromised. And besides, with Y/n's newfound social status, she'll have the power to hold JIS Corp accountable."

Your mother's expression softened slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching as she weighed her options. "Okay," she relented at last, "a year is enough."

As Sora finally drifted off to sleep, her tear-stained cheeks still hauntingly fresh in your mind, you tiptoed out of the bedroom with a sense of quiet relief. Closing the door behind you with practiced care, you exhaled slowly, the weight of the day's emotional turmoil settling heavily upon your shoulders.

Today marked Sora's third birthday, a joyous occasion overshadowed by the absence of her father, who was miles away on a business trip. The sound of her plaintive cries had echoed through the house, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made in pursuit of success and stability.

Making your way to the kitchen island, you reached for a bottle of mineral water, the cool liquid offering a fleeting moment of solace amidst the chaos of your thoughts. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, your work as a full-time writer left unfinished as you devoted every waking moment to comforting and caring for your daughter.

As a writer, your focus had shifted towards women's and healthy lifestyle topics, a reflection of your own journey towards wellness and empowerment. Even during your treatment in Ottawa, you had continued your studies in creative writing, determined to pursue your passion despite the challenges that lay in your path.

Returning to South Korea after completing your treatment, you had been met with a new opportunity—a promotion to Chief Editorial at the Seoul branch of a prestigious magazine. It was a testament to your resilience and determination, a testament to the strength that had carried you through the darkest of times.

But as you stood in the quiet of the kitchen, the echoes of Sora's cries still lingering in the air, you couldn't help but feel the weight of your responsibilities pressing down upon you. Balancing motherhood with a demanding career was no easy feat, but with each passing day, you found strength in the love you shared with your daughter, a love that knew no bounds and blood, fueled your determination to succeed, no matter the obstacles that lay ahead.

The sound of the door's password being unlocked drew your attention away from your thoughts, causing you to rise from your seat with a mixture of surprise and anticipation. Your husband had returned home, his weary figure a stark contrast to the usual air of confidence and charm that surrounded him. Yet, despite the exhaustion etched into his features, he still managed to exude a quiet sense of grace and poise.

As he entered the house, you couldn't help but chuckle softly at the sight of him, his disheveled appearance doing nothing to diminish his innate handsomeness. With a gentle smile, you stepped forward to greet him, offering a comforting hand to help him shed the burdensome weight of his suit and tie.

"I miss you so much," he whispered into your ear, his voice laced with a palpable longing that mirrored your own.

"How about Sora?" you inquired, your concern for your daughter never far from your mind even in the midst of your reunion with your husband.

A flicker of realization crossed his features as he almost forgot about his sweet little cupcake, Sora. "Is she asleep already?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of guilt at the oversight.

You nodded in response, offering him an exhausted yet understanding smile. The trials of the day had taken their toll on both of you, but in this moment, as you stood close together, the warmth of your shared love enveloped you like a comforting embrace, reminding you of the strength and resilience that bound your family together.

"I had to read her three books before she finally fell asleep. So don't you ever try to wake her up," you warned him playfully, a hint of exhaustion still evident in your voice as you recounted the bedtime routine with Sora. Despite the weariness, there was a sense of fondness in your words, a testament to the love and dedication you poured into your role as a mother.

Your husband let out a soft chuckle at your admonishment, his arms enveloping you in a warm embrace as he pulled you close. His presence was a comforting balm against the strains of the day, offering solace in the midst of the chaos that had defined your evening.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "The seminar went longer than expected. My flight was delayed, and I had to book another one to get home quicker. But I'm still this late."

You offered a reassuring smile, your hand gently tapping his back in a gesture of understanding and support. "There's always tomorrow, babe," you whispered, your words a gentle reminder that in the grand scheme of things, time was but a fleeting commodity compared to the enduring bond you shared as a family.

Your husband's touch was gentle yet firm as he pushed your body back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a depth of emotion that stirred something within you. "Tomorrow is February 20th," he whispered softly, the weight of the date hanging heavily between you.

You nodded in acknowledgment, your heart fluttering with a mixture of apprehension and longing as you contemplated the significance of the day. It was a day etched into your memory, a painful reminder of the loss you had endured and the scars that still lingered.

"Do you want to introduce Sora to him?" your husband asked gently, his voice a tender caress against the quiet of the room. "I think she's ready for that."

A surge of emotion welled up within you at the suggestion, a bittersweet blend of hope and trepidation. It had been a journey marked by grief and healing, a journey you had traversed with Sora by your side every step of the way.

"I'd love to," you replied softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "I think... I'm ready too."

Your husband's eyes softened with pride and admiration as he gazed at you, his words a soothing balm to the wounds that still lingered within your heart. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "You're doing so great."

In that moment, as you stood together on the precipice of a new chapter, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope ignite within you—a glimmer of light amidst the darkness that had once threatened to consume you whole. And with your husband by your side, you knew that whatever tomorrow may bring, you would face it together, united in love and resilience.

Your steps faltered as you heard Mingyu engaged in conversation with someone inside his office. You had come to discuss something with him this morning, but now your attention was fully captured by the voices drifting out through the open door.

"You knocked somebody?" A deeper voice queried, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

"Hm... Not entirely false! Yes, but she's not just somebody. She's someone I care about," Mingyu's voice replied, sending a ripple of confusion and curiosity coursing through you.

"It's pretty odd to hear that you care about someone. Who is she? Do I know her?" The other person's voice sounded vaguely familiar, prompting you to hazard a guess at their identity.

"She's Seungcheol hyung's secretary," Mingyu revealed, dropping your name into the conversation without preamble.

There was a pregnant pause before your name was spoken again, this time with a note of surprise. "Ji Y/n?"

"Yeah, she reminds me of her," Mingyu's voice confirmed, sending a jolt of uncertainty coursing through you.

"That's not enough reason to marry her, Kim Mingyu," the other person's voice retorted, their words hanging heavy in the air.

Your mind raced with a flurry of emotions as you struggled to process Mingyu's revelation. The realization that he saw shades of someone else in you, someone you didn't even know, left you feeling adrift in a sea of confusion and doubt.

As snippets of memories flooded your mind—moments of tenderness and affection shared between you and Mingyu over the past few weeks—a pang of sadness gripped your heart. Had his gestures of romance and chivalry been driven by genuine affection, or were they merely echoes of a love he once knew?

Caught between the pull of your growing feelings for Mingyu and the unsettling revelation of his comparison, you found yourself at a crossroads. What should you do? You had fallen for him, despite the uncertainty that now clouded your heart. But could you truly build a future with someone who saw you as a reflection of another?

As the tall figure emerged from Mingyu's office, you felt a knot form in your stomach. He paused as his gaze locked onto yours, and you rose from your seat, attempting to maintain a composed facade despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

"You're Ji Y/n? Seungcheol hyung's secretary?" His voice was deep and authoritative, yet there was a hint of curiosity in his tone as he addressed you.

You offered him a polite smile and nodded in confirmation. "Yes, that's correct. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Jeon."

"I've seen you around, but this is our first time talking," Mr. Jeon remarked, his demeanor friendly yet reserved. "Nice to meet you too. Let's be more friendly in the future."

With those words, Mr. Jeon bid you farewell, leaving you to grapple with the weight of his presence and the implications of his unexpected encounter. Mentally preparing yourself for what lay ahead, you took a deep breath and steeling yourself for the challenges that awaited you.

As you entered Mingyu's office, your mind buzzed with a flurry of thoughts and emotions. With each step, you reminded yourself of the decisions that lay before you, the choices that would shape your future.

Keep the baby.

Get your share.

Have a happy life.

The words echoed in your mind, a mantra of determination and resolve as you braced yourself for the difficult conversations that lay ahead.

To be continued.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios #densworld🌼#seventeen series #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #seventeen drabbles #mingyu imagines #mingyu fanfic #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu #mingyu au #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagine #mingyu scenarios #mingyu angst

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hoshifighting · 3 months

Note

hihi!!

the urge to be brat tamed runs through my mind all day. but cheol taming his brat, SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!!!

covering your mouth and his veiny hands around your neck so your porn-like moans aren’t heard by his members.

making you suck his fingers and using your saliva as lube.

slapping you every time you moan a little to loud.

cum denial until the point where you’re literally screaming his name as if it’s your sole vocabulary begging him to let you cum while tears run down your fucked out face.

— the list goes on but here’s just a few to get a feel for!!

(literally love your posts sooooo much!!! keep up the good work ❤️)

BRAT-TAMER SEUNGCHEOL that's it.

Where Seungcheol gets jealous because his friend Jeongha, is all over you, even though your relationship is private, Seungcheol gets mad at your brat teasing. So he fucks you without mercy, separated by just one room from the members.

Word Count: 1.7k

Jealous dom! Seungcheol, Brat sub! Reader

Warnings: Smut, jealously sex, cum denial, slut shamming, begging, degradation, crying, angst, saliva as lube, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, ass slapping, face slapping, chocking and etc.

The weekend getaway with Seungcheol and your friends had started out as a much-needed break. His friends were always very nice to you, and soon they became your friends too. The idea of renting a house for this period of rest sounded very pleasant. Everyone laughed, danced and sang, while you, Jeonghan and Mingyu cooked for the group.

As the day unfolded, you noticed Seungcheol's subtle glances whenever Jeonghan was around. Unbeknownst to your friends, your relationship with Seungcheol was still a secret, and the protective side of him was on full display.

Jeonghan pulled you into a hug, the kind that lasted just a tad too long, and a conversation that seemed a bit too personal. Seungcheol's reaction was swift, though subtle. His jaw clenched, and his eyebrows furrowed as he observed the scene. He couldn't shake off the unease that gripped him.

As Jeonghan continued to chat with you, Seungcheol's discomfort became more evident. Sensing something amiss, you looked at him and asked, "Hey, everything okay?" He nodded, but his locked jaw and the intensity in his gaze told a different story.

Before the tension could escalate, Jeonghan, with his ever-present charisma, pulled you away to join another conversation. You shot a puzzled glance at Seungcheol, but he merely nodded again, though this time, there was a palpable tension in the air.

Seungcheol couldn't take it any longer. He grabbed your arm gently, pulling you aside towards a nearby bathroom. Once inside, he closed the door behind him, his expression unreadable.

"What's going on, Seungcheol?"

"You're mine for now," he declared, his voice low and possessive. His eyes bore into yours, a mixture of frustration and desire. "I can't stand seeing him all over you like that," he admitted, his voice low but intense.

A mischievous grin played on your lips as you locked eyes with Seungcheol, your fingers gently tracing circles on his arm. "Well, someone seems a bit possessive," you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Seungcheol's expression shifted to confusion, and he arched a thick eyebrow in response. His veins pulsed on his neck, a subtle display of the building anger beneath the surface.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his tone irritated

You chuckled, enjoying the playful banter. "You know, claiming me in the bathroom like that. It's almost like you want to tell the world we're together."

His eyes narrowed, the tension in his shoulders rising. "I never said that," he retorted, the veins on his neck more prominent now.

Leaning in, you whispered teasingly, "Maybe you just can't resist showing off your amazing girlfriend."

Seungcheol's jaw clenched, his frustration evident. "You're making it sound like I'm the one holding us back from going public.”

You couldn't resist pushing his buttons further. With a sly smile, you mimicked his serious expression, contorting your face into a comical version of his furrowed brows and arched eyebrow.

His eyes widened in disbelief. Before he could react, he lost his mind momentarily.

He pushed your body against the bathroom wall, a firm grip around your neck, while his lips brushed against yours. In the close proximity, he warned with a husky voice, "You're loosing your mind Y/N."

“Am I?” You couldn't help but laugh, the cut air from the choking making you gasp.

Seungcheol's grip tightened slightly, his lips hovering near yours. "You find this cool?" he questioned.

His eyes seemed to glow red furiously. The air grew thick as he sucked his teeth, not a hint of a smile on his face.

Before you could gauge his next move, he reached out, his fingers gripping the fabric of your sun dress. In one swift motion, he pulled you closer, the dress bunching up slightly.

With your dress in his hands, he pulls it up, revealing your panties, so he pulls them down hard, the lacy fabric immediately tearing in his hands. You gasp, denying to yourself "I didn't even like that one anyway..." Lie. It was your favorite.

His breath was strong against your face as he whispered, "You're mine, and I don't share.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but moan, feeling the wetness between your thighs.

"I'm gonna give you a lesson." Without breaking eye contact, he reached out, gently guiding your chin upward. His fingers traced along your jawline before he leaned in, whispering, "You need to learn who you belong to.”

His fingers traced a path along your lower lip, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly trailed his digits over your tongue, the intimate contact making your saliva envelop his skin.

You looked in his eyes, before sucking his two fingers, just like you would suck his cock. So he slowly pulled his fingers, making your lower lips flip back shiny with your saliva.

His wet fingers circled your clit slowly, making you hold onto him, his eyes burning you "You're such a brat," he remarked, the edge of amusement evident in his voice.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you shot back, "Well, maybe I like being a brat."

He chuckled, the tension dissipating into a teasing energy. "Do you now?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. His tone held a challenge as he continued, "Tell me, what's the appeal of being a brat, hm?"

You leaned in, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Maybe I enjoy seeing you lose your cool. It's kind of hot, you know?"

Without warning, he pushed his two fingers inside of you, making you groan. He curled his digits perfectly while his body pressed yours on the bathroom tiles, you looked to the mirror on your side, his big biceps flexing as he worked his skillfully fingers inside of you.

Your weeping cunt can be heard by him, the gushing sound hitting his senses as his fingers get wetter every second. "Look at you… So wet for me, and I didn't even started to fuck you."

"I get wet just by thinking about you getting mad."

"Yeah? Just to let you know… I am pissed off."

Without warning, he pushed your body, and you felt the cold tiles of the bathroom wall against your cheek. His strong grip held you in place, and the sudden shift left you breathless.

The sound of his belt being unbuckled echoed in the small space, you could sense Seungcheol's controlled anger. The forceful push of his big cock inside of your pussy, made you moan loud.

Before the sound could fully echo, Seungcheol's veiny hands covered your mouth, suppressing any further noise. Your eyes met his in the mirror, and your body ached against his, caught between the cold tiles and the heat radiating from Seungcheol.

He stopped his hips, his tip hitting your cervix, before taking everything out and slamming all in once inside of you again, his hands once again muffling a scream. "S-Seungcheol!"

Seungcheol gives you a harsh spank, making your body tremble, eyes closed tightly. Allowing you to take another breath, he takes his hand off your mouth. His voice, low and intense, broke the momentary silence. "You don't want the members to hear us, right?"

You can feel your walls clenching around his cock, sensing the know on your stomach wanting to be free, making him groan in response. The spongy little spot being abused with the strength of his dick knocking you.

Tears trickle down your face, your lip being bitten by yourself wasn't helping too much, as you feel your orgasm getting closer, the whimpering turning into moans, that turned into screams again.

Everytime you let out a moan escape, he gives you harsh slaps on the meat of your ass, the flesh turning red, as the skin burns like hell. "Be quiet," he instructed, his gaze locking onto yours in the mirror. His question lingered, "Is that what you want? Everyone to hear how good I am fucking you?"

Your gaze met Seungcheol's reflected eyes in the mirror, nodding yes, with a mischievous smile. Seungcheol's eyes held satisfaction, and the synchronized rhythm of his thrusts continued.

Seungcheol groaned in your ear, your weeping cunt tightening around him, and he could feel your walls milking his dick, as your world spinned, the moans leaving your throat non-stop, and he slapped you each time.

When entered on the brink of an orgasm, he pulled out his wet cock, making you whine between his grip and the wall. The denying made you sob, your clit begged attention, and your poor pussy was a mess.

Seungcheol coos at you "Slut… Can't even endure your own provocations…" his fingers wiped your tears away, before giving you a slap on the side of your cheek.

"P-please let me c-um" You begged, the tears shining with the bathroom light.

"Beg that prettily for me again."

"Please Seungcheol, I am f-ucking begging you babe." Your head lays on his shoulder.

He pushed his cock effortlessly inside of you again making you scream his name, your throat barely having power to speak. His fingers search to your sopping folds, collecting your arousal to masturbate your clit fast. And if it wasn't his tight grip on you, your knees would've found the ground already.

Seungcheol hips start to stutter, the rhythm becoming inconsistent, as a wet white ring forms around the base of his cock. His groans became more whiny, and his fingers followed a crazy unstopping pace. You struggled to breathe properly because you're more and more pressed on the wall with each thrust of him. Making your moans follow the same pace of his strokes.

"Oh my god! Please, please, pl-ease…" The begging sounded infinite as he fucked you merciless.

You're too fucked out to process anything, or hold your moans, suddently your head feels dizzy as your knees trembled, your mouth hanging open and you could only manage silent moans. The orgasm comes harshly, making you whine shakily.

His swollen cock throbs against your walls and he whimpered, with a trembling high, Seungcheol painted your walls white, the sticky cum dripping as his hips strokes lazily, his hands softening his grip on you.

"You know, I think it's time I tell the members that you're my girlfriend."

You scoffed, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "After all of that, I think they probably already know, Seungcheol."

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anto-pops · 11 days

Text

Possessive Touch - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Sebastian has never been the sharing sort. He was happy to loan people notes or quills, maybe even the occasional book from the Restricted Section. But not you. Never you.

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian acting incredibly possessive after watching you hug someone else and then staking his claim on you the only way he can.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, rough sex, yandere!Sebastian

Locked away in my drafts for months and unearthed by this ask I received. Everyone say thank you anon

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3 (with better tags as usual)

There were a number of words you could use to describe Sebastian Sallow. He was smart, loyal, and daring, to name a few. As brave as any Gryffindor and as insightful as any Ravenclaw, he had many positive attributes that you found to be remarkable. But every coin had two sides, and as much as you admired his more positive attributes, he could also be equally callous, brash, and vindictive when circumstances called for it. His moods fluctuated frequently and gave you whiplash half the time, because more often than not– despite it being accidental– you had a tendency to be the root cause of his emotional turbulence.

You hadn’t meant for your conversation with Ominis to last for so long, much less for it to cut into your allotted study time with your boyfriend. The Gaunt scion had, in a moment of weakness, confided in you about the burdens of his personal life with a kind of desolate demeanor that tugged at your heartstrings and made you genuinely feel bad for him. You had lent him your ear for nearly an hour, and eventually your shoulder as he came to rest his head against it to embrace you in thanks. It was simply you comforting a friend; offering him a brief moment of reprieve from the dreary thoughts that had plagued him for Merlin knew how long before the two of you had gone your separate ways. Nothing more, nothing less.

It had apparently looked like something more to Sebastian, though. He had been watching from the end of the Dark Arts Tower corridor with narrowed eyes, jealousy burning in his veins as he took in the sight of his girlfriend holding his former best friend in a manner he deemed reserved for him and him alone. You didn’t know how much of the exchange he had actually witnessed, but all that mattered was that he had seen the two of you hugging. Wracked with a silent yet palpable fury, Sebastian had dragged you down the steps of the Undercroft before tossing you into the room without a second thought, your protests and justifications falling on deaf ears.

A new word came to mind to describe Sebastian shortly thereafter. One that scared you as much as it excited you.

Possessive.

His fingers had branded you as he’d stripped you bare, pressing and pulling incessantly against your clothes until you were clad in nothing but your undergarments and left shivering under the intensity of his stare. He had stretched you out along the cool stone floor, his hands holding you down without a measure of care while he touched whatever parts of you he could reach. Your breasts were tender and sore by now– no doubt covered with tiny fingertip sized bruises from the sheer strength of his groping. His breathing was heavy and tinged with the occasional grunt when he shifted his hips over yours, the telling bulge in his trousers more than likely causing him discomfort, but he paid it no mind as he took his time focusing on you. An unmistakable wetness had gathered between your legs despite the depravity, and as much as you wanted to clench your knees together to ease the rampant ache there, Sebastian’s own leg between yours prevented you from doing so.

He was toying with you, that much was certain, and he was enjoying every blasted second of it.

In response to your absentminded squirming, Sebastian moved so his knee was nestled directly against your core, the sudden pressure causing you to gasp and arch beneath him. He took advantage of your closer proximity and looped his arm under your back, holding you flush to him with a desperate sort of yearning that made you dizzy, and the way he inhaled your scent before groaning was almost primal.

A choked moan slipped from your lips as Sebastian ducked his head into the crook of your neck to bite and suck fervently, the pain laced pleasure blinding you to his true motives, but not for long. There was no doubt in your hazy mind that he was behaving so brutishly in some attempt to remind you of who you belonged to. Leaving visible marks would only further his intentions, and you found yourself whimpering as you trembled against the floor.

After he bestowed a particularly playful nip against your marked flesh, Sebastian sat back on his haunches to admire his handiwork, taking in the sight of you dazed beneath him. You made quite the pretty picture; skin flushed, hair mussed, and an eclectic assortment of finger shaped lesions decorating your neck, breasts, and thighs. The knowledge that they had been put there by him only appealed to him more, and Sebastian hummed appreciatively at the sight.

You, on the other hand, were coiled tighter than a spring. The Slytherin man had been edging you like this for what seemed like an eternity, but it realistically could only have been half an hour or so. Time was something of an illusion at present, and all you could truly focus on was your ardent need for release. The fiery sensation that stayed stubbornly aflame in your lower stomach was beginning to drive you mad, and you gazed longingly up at Sebastian, who in turn bit his lip at your watery stare.

“Please, Sebastian,” you implored him, voice catching. His hands trailed down your chest and over your pert nipples before eventually settling on either side of your waist. Then with a grip tighter than Devil’s Snare, he tugged you harder against his knee with a wicked smile, forcing a low groan from your throat in response to the friction that he seemed to revel in. “Please.”

“I don’t know what you’re begging for,” he admonished in a low voice. “You’re going to have to be more specific, darling.”

Fuck, he was still upset. That much was obvious to you. It was evident in his tone, in the way his fingers dug sharply into the skin of your lower back– but mostly it was his eyes. The usual spark that danced behind his irises when he was with you was dull, and his gaze was anything but soft. It was hard and unyielding, cold and unfeeling. You were going to have to talk your way out of this one.

Licking your chapped lips, you did your best to still your writhing as you grit through your teeth, “I need you. I can’t take any more of this, please Sebastian.”

Both of his hands left your waist then. One of them braced flat against the floor to support himself while the other curled under your neck, pulling your head off of the ground to press your forehead against his own. The unrelenting pressure against your cunt didn’t lessen as he hunched over you and forced you to stare directly into those dark, greedy eyes of his, and you whimpered pitifully beneath him as he took in the delicious expression you bore. “Is it really me you need, or would any man do, hm? Should I fetch Ominis? Let the two of you continue where you left off earlier? Or maybe you’d prefer Garreth instead– your standards seem to be all over the place, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“N-No–” you stammered around the word when his fist clenched painfully in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Just you– only you– I swear, we were only talking earlier–”

“That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing…” he muttered darkly, releasing your head and letting it thunk back against the floor softly. His hand was akin to molten fire as it trailed along your clavicle before he moved his thumb to lightly brush across your bottom lip. You barely had time to take note of the movement before he dove forward to capture your lips in a heady, domineering kiss that stole your breath from you completely, and all you could do was mewl softly when you felt his tongue sweep along the inside of your mouth. Sebastian groaned into the kiss, cupping the side of your jaw with his hand as he shifted his knee away from your core to give him the space he needed to drop his hips and grind his solid manhood against your thigh. He broke away for a split second to breathe out, “Say it again.”

It was hard to get a word out with how ferociously Sebastian was kissing you, but eventually his mouth trailed wetly to the side of your face to suck another mark into the skin below your ear, and you managed to gasp out, “Just you, Sebastian. There’s only you, I love you.”

The sound of his nails scraping against the stone floor beside your head drew your attention, but before you could roll your head to look, he was sitting up once more with a new sort of emotion glinting in his eyes. Those brown orbs of his were no longer flat or cold and instead appeared to be scalding with blatant lasciviousness, his want for you as potent as Firewhiskey.

Through hooded eyes you watched as Sebastian reached for his belt, the sound of metal and leather coming undone filling you with a kind of urgency that left you biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood. Finally he would give you what you wanted– what you’d been craving from the moment he stripped you bare and pinned you to the floor. The version of your boyfriend above you hurriedly shoving his pants down his hips was unfamiliar to you; he seemed wholly animalistic, driven forth by some inherent, primitive need to claim you all for himself, and as much as you loathed his inability to rein in his jealousy at times, an equally intrinsic part of you craved his possessiveness.

You were his, and he was yours.

Freed from the confines of his trousers, Sebastian knocked your legs to the side so he had more room to situate himself between them. He slid his knees under your bent legs, caging the limbs under his arms as he ran his calloused palms down the tops of your thighs and the head of his cock slid through the overwhelming wetness that had gathered at your center. The rampant ache in your stomach roared back to life tenfold at the mere feeling of his thick shaft, and you twitched in anticipation while Sebastian fixed his lustful gaze on you.

“That’s right,” he started to slide into your wet heat as he spoke, your mouth falling open around an airy groan at the sensation of being filled. “You’re mine. Everything you have to offer is for me and me alone, don’t you ever forget it.”

Sebastian was stretching you out torturously slow, stuffing every inch of himself into you with a measure of control that went against his earlier behavior. He was utterly transfixed as he watched your chest rise and fall with panted breaths, and when he finally bottomed out with his hips flush to the backs of your thighs, a wanton groan ripped from your throat as your head fell to the side. Your hand shot up to push back against his lower stomach– silently trying to convey that you needed a moment to adjust– but Sebastian merely pulled his hips back and plunged back in, drawing a keen whimper from you that lit a fire in his blood.

Overwhelmed tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to breathe through the sheer size of him breaching you, and you threw your arm over your face to hide the sudden flush you felt heating your cheeks. “S-Sebastian, I can’t– ah–”

His hands slid down your thighs to grip at your waist once again, pulling you impossibly closer to grind against your ass before he began pumping into you steadily. It stole your breath– all of it; the angle, his bruising hold on you, his pulsing cock brushing against the deepest parts of you. It was exquisite agony, and a quivering moan tore from your lips when he leaned forward to spear downward into you, the head of his shaft hitting something that made you jolt against him.

Your arm fell away from your face in that instant, your fingers scrambling for purchase against the stone floor beneath you, to no avail. “F-Fuck, you’re too much– Sebastian!”

With your neck tipped back and your eyes squeezed shut, you felt Sebastian lean forward to brace his elbows on either side of your head before grasping your cheeks in his large hands. He lifted your skull from the ground and held your forehead to his again, prompting you to look at him as he slowed his pace. He continued to drive his hips into yours, but the mind numbing intensity had mercifully lessened.

“You’ll never do this with anyone else,” he said brusquely, his breath fanning across your lips. You could only moan in response, especially when he started to grind against you after each plunge of his cock. “This is all for me– every bit of you was made for me– do you understand?”

The grating moans that had been sounding from you transformed into gentler ones, Sebastian’s wave-like movements with his hips delivering tantalizing friction against your clit that had you melting beneath him. You nodded dumbly, and your boyfriend released your face to sit up so he could better watch as you fell apart under him. With one hand on your waist and the other propping him up, Sebastian held fast to you while he upped his tempo, pistoning his hips into you so fast and rough that the wet sounds coming from where you were connected were all you could hear.

More choked whimpers cascaded from your lips, sounding like an angelic symphony as far as Sebastian was concerned, and he threw his head back as he got lost in the sensation of your velvety walls clamping down on his cock. You could tell he was close based on how ragged his breathing became, and your own looming climax frayed the remaining tethers of your self-restraint. You surrendered completely to him, relishing in the overwhelming fullness of him as well as the scrape of the stone floor against your shoulder blades. Pain faded into pleasure, the cold air of the Undercroft transformed into a blazing inferno, and you swore you had never been so thoroughly fucked in your life.

When Sebastian’s gaze fell back on you, his eyes darkened and he practically snarled as he bent you clean in half. He nudged your knees over his shoulders so he could wrap his arms around you, burying his fingers in your hair and clenching the strands in his fists, and as he rammed his cock into you harder– more feral and beastly than ever– the air in your lungs was expelled with every intoxicating thrust.

All you could see, smell, hear, and feel was him. He had effectively rendered you brainless as he claimed your mind, body, and soul, and the only thing you could do was submit to him and take it.

Your clammy hands blazed a trail along his skin as you wrapped your arms around him, your nails digging into his back so hard that it had to sting– but if Sebastian’s throaty groan was anything to go by, he fucking loved it.

“Gods, it’s so deep, isn’t it?” he asked you, the words coming out in-between panted breaths. A shiver ran up your spine at the thought before you clenched around him even more, the unmistakable feeling of his cock hitting your cervix making you see stars. “I’ll come inside– fill you up so good that you’ll walk out of here with it dripping down your legs. See what everyone else has to say about that.”

You couldn’t even formulate a response. The most you managed was a witless, muffled cry of his name against his shoulder, the weight of him pressing down on you smothering any of the unintelligible noises that escaped you. His rapid, uncompromising pace drove you higher than you had ever thought possible, and your climax steadily built from a whisper to a deafening clamor.

“Ah– Sebastian, please–” you babbled, spittle hanging from your lips as you begged. “Please, please, please–”

The hands he had fisted in your hair tightened even more, prompting you to crane your neck back to ease the prickling feeling. “Please what? Come on darling, tell me what you want.”

The bestial way Sebastian fucked into you intensified in that moment, his toes digging into the stone floor to lend him the support he needed to chase his own pleasure while simultaneously amplifying yours. It was too much– it felt too good– and you had to fight tooth and nail to get the words out before his efforts left you a useless, twitching pile of limbs beneath him. “Please, let me come!”

“Swear that you’re mine,” he growled in your ear, the rough timbre to his voice making you tremble in earnest. “Tell me that no one else will ever have you like this– swear it.”

“I s-swear– I swear it– I’m yours, Sebastian. Only yours, I swear, please please please– I swear–”

Sebastian said nothing else, instead rewarding your admission with a toe-curling roll of his hips as he plunged in all the way to the hilt. He kept moving like that, the chill-inducing friction against your clit combined with his sinfully precise, cervix-kissing thrusts more than enough to drag your finish from you. Your walls fluttered around him as you lost control of your voice, your entire body quaking and jolting as an assortment of moans, cries, and and airy gasps poured from your throat.

“Fuck–” Sebastian swore roughly, both of his hands abandoning their hold on your hair to brace against the floor to better support his body as you seemingly sucked him in deeper. “Good girl, fuck– I’m close. You're going to take it all, yeah?”

There wasn’t a chance in hell you could respond– not that Sebastian was waiting for you to. With a husky groan, he pushed himself as deep into you as he could go, getting a few last thrusts in before he bottomed out and unraveled. Hot, potent strings of his seed painted your insides, causing your eyes to roll back in your head before he began rutting and grinding his hips into you to milk as much of himself as he could. You could barely hear him mumbling for you to take it all– not that it was even up for debate– and when he finally relented and stilled his movements, you were too dazed to so much as glance at him.

A warm, featherlight feeling brought you back to the present after a couple of heated moments. Sebastian’s hands brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your forehead, his eyes unapologetically roving over you as he took in the sight of your fucked-out expression. He seemed pleased with himself, a barely there smirk revealing itself as he dropped his hand to your waist to dig his fingers into the bruised skin there. You inhaled sharply, but beyond that, you didn’t so much as wince. You were far too weary for that.

“In the future,” he started to say as he rocked forward, pressing his still-hard length into you briefly before withdrawing halfway, only to repeat the motion again. “I’d rather you keep your hands to yourself when you’re with your ‘friends’. Especially where Ominis is concerned…” he trailed off, his hands skimming along all the love-bites and bruises that littered your body. “That is, unless you want more reminders as to who it is exactly you’re dating.”

One look into Sebastian’s dark, piercing eyes told you that he wasn’t bluffing at all. You already knew that he was more than willing to stake his claim on you should the need arise, and part of you even wondered if he would have the decency to do so in private next time.

Next time? Would there even be a next time? He had certainly made his point.

The pleasant ache that lingered throughout your body had you second guessing yourself, however, and you honestly wondered if it would be worth it to rile Sebastian up again in the future. As terrifying as the thought was, you couldn’t help but entertain it as you smiled up at him innocently, a flurry of unholy visions racing through your mind as you relished in the possessive way he continued to touch you.

When he began to move his hips again, you decided to label the notion as a ‘maybe’ for now. Clearly he was far from finished with you, and despite the mildly terrifying side of him you had just been made privy to, you couldn’t help but shudder in anticipation.

Maybe rousing the sleeping dragon again wouldn’t be such a terrible thing… right?

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x female!reader #sebastian sallow oneshot #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy oneshot #my writing #I can't even remember what prompted past me to write this depravity all those months ago but honestly. she was onto something

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inou-ie · 7 months

Text

Pairing: Kafka x female reader

Warnings: NSFW, Kafka has a cock, breeding, degradation, mouth fucking.

Author's notes: I'm bad at name calling and dirty talking because I prefer praising and stuff but I did my best, I hope you enjoy! (I'm sorry for the repost, I forgot to put it in a separate one.)

MDNI

The blaring music and the pulsating lights in the room seemed to intensify, causing your head to throb with discomfort. It was difficult to discern the details of what was happening around you, perhaps exacerbated by the presence of alcohol in your system, leaving you feeling disoriented and disconnected from the events unfolding.

The memory of how you ended up in the club and the identity of the women taking turns kissing you had become a hazy blur, lost in the midst of the overwhelming sensory experience, alcohol, and disorientation. But then you noticed your girlfriend... the love of your life, walking towards you.

"There you are," she began in a soft tone, though the tension was palpable. "I can't recall giving you permission to wander off and make out with random bitches like this." Her words carried an underlying displeasure as she forcibly pulled you away from the woman you had been engaging with.

Kafka's forehead glistened with sweat, a testament to the fact that she had been fervently searching for you in the crowded and chaotic environment of the club. Her determination to locate you was evident in her physical state.

Kafka maintained her gentle smile as she forcefully pulled you out of the club. However, her grip on you was so tight that it elicited groans of pain from you. Her brisk pace only added to your difficulty, making it a struggle for your intoxicated self to keep from stumbling with each hurried step.

Upon reaching your shared place, Kafka wasted no time. She threw you against the wall and swiftly locked the door, making you groan in pain. As you started to slide down the wall, Kafka moved swiftly and caught you in her arms.

"You're such a bad girlfriend... I guess I have no choice but to fuck the slut out of you..." Kafka's smile fades as she pushes you to the wall, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head.

"I'm sorry..." You lowered your gaze in shame, although the lingering effects of alcohol still had a firm grip on your senses, making your head feel fuzzy and complicating your ability to process the situation.

"What are you sorry about?" Kafka leaned in closer, bringing her face to within inches of yours. You could feel her warm breath against your lips, creating an intimate and charged atmosphere between you two.

"For flirting around... I didn't mean to do it..." You nearly whispered your words while avoiding Kafka's intense gaze. "Liar." Kafka growled, her eyes flashing dangerously. "You knew exactly what you were doing." She stepped back slightly to start undoing her pants while you struggled to regain your balance and stand on your own feet, your drunken state making it challenging to maintain stability and composure.

"I think we need a little reminder of what happens when my girl gets a bit too out of hand." Kafka purred. Without further ado, she ripped your clothes apart and threw it to the ground. Without warning, Kafka spun you around to face the wall and pressed her body against yours from behind, you felt her erection rubbing against your ass. Her fingers dug into your shoulders as she held onto you for support. She reached down between your legs, teasingly tracing circles around your already throbbing clit.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard." Kafka growled, her voice deep and threatening. She reached up with one hand and roughly groped your breast, pinching the nipple hard enough to make you cry out in both pleasure and pain.

"You're such a dirty little slut." Kafka whispers into your ear, punctuating each word. She didn't give you a chance to catch your breath before she roughly pressed her cock against your entrance, forcing it inside in one swift motion. Kafka began pumping her hips right away, driving her cock deeper into you with each thrust, making you gasp for air.

"I'm sorry! I was too drun– mmph!" As you tried to explain, Kafka's fingers slid into your mouth, forcing it open, holding you in place as she thrust her fingers inside. Your eyes widened with shock and arousal as you felt her digit rubbing against the sensitive flesh of your throat.

Simultaneously, Kafka continued pounding her hips harder against your ass, driving her cock deeper into your soaking wet pussy. You cried out around her invading finger, muffled by the sheer force of the pleasure coursing through your body. The dual sensations were too much for you to handle, all you could do is hold onto the wall for support.

"What a whore..." Kafka's grip on your hips tightened as she picked up the pace, pounding her cock against your cervix with a ferocity that left you breathless. You moaned loudly, writhing in pleasure as wave after wave of intense sensations washed over you.

Without warning, Kafka grunted and let out a low growl before shuddering violently behind you. "Fuck..." she muttered as her massive erection throbbed inside you, sending warm spurts of cum deep into your womb. The feeling of being filled to overflowing was almost too much for you to bear; it was both exhilarating and terrifying at once.

Your body jerked uncontrollably as one last wave of orgasm hit you, causing every muscle to tense and release in perfect syncopation with Kafka's movements. With a final thrust that drove her deeper still, Kafka finally pulled out, leaving behind a thick trail of her seed within you.

You collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath. "We're not done..." Kafka murmured, pulling you up off the floor by your hair. "Now get on your knees and show some appreciation for what I just did."

As you knelt before her, trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement, Kafka reached into your mouth once more. This time, she guided her cock towards it, pressing the head against your lips. With a final thrust, Kafka's hips pushed forward, forcing her engorged member past your resistance until it filled your mouth completely.

"We have to clean that dirty mouth of yours, kissing those bitches without my permission... such a dirty girl you are." Kafka hissed while looking down at you while you gagged around her throbbing shaft, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as you tried desperately not to choke on her cock. All you could do was whimper pathetically in between moans of pleasure at this new sensation invading yet another orifice.

Kafka's hips pounded against your face, driving her cock deeper into your throat with each thrust. You gagged and choked as she continued to fill you up, unable to breathe or speak around the massive erection stuffing itself down your gullet.

"That's it.." Kafka growled, fingers digging into your skull to hold you in place. "Take every last drop."

As if on cue, Kafka let out a primal roar, bucking her hips forward one final time. Her hot seed exploded into your mouth, filling your throat and pouring down your chin as she emptied herself into you completely. Kafka held you there for what felt like an eternity before eventually pulling away with a satisfied smirk on her lips. "Hm, look at that fucked out face of yours..." Kafka scoffed as she looked down at you.

You fell back onto the floor, eyes rolling back into your head as the world spun around you. Your body shook uncontrollably, both from exhaustion and an overwhelming sense of submission that left you weak at the knees.

"Do you think you've learned your lesson yet?" Kafka asked menacingly, her voice dripping with malice. "Because if not... well, I have plenty more where that came from." You shuddered involuntarily at the thought of what might happen next so you desperately nod your head, still unable to talk from the intense fucking your mouth experienced.

"I expect you to be a good girlfriend from now on, alright?" Kafka spoke with a smile, her demeanor appearing gentle once more as she lightly patted your head. However, there was an underlying tone that made it feel more like a warning than a request.

Without a word, Kafka scooped you up into her arms and carried you towards the bedroom. Your heart hammered against your chest as she walked confidently past the pool of cum left behind by your previous encounter with her.

Inside the room, Kafka gently laid you down on the soft mattress before laying beside you. She pulled the covers over the both of you, wrapping you up in her warm embrace. Despite everything that had just happened - or perhaps because of it - there was something undeniably comforting about being held close like this...

#inou works #kafka x you #kafka x reader #hsr kafka #kafka smut #kafka honkai star rail #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail

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mononijikayu · 1 month

Text

happy together ─ geto suguru and gojo satoru

As you observed the intimate exchange between them, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading in your heart. Your love was palpable, radiating from their gaze and enveloping you in its comforting embrace. It was a reminder that amidst the uncertainty and challenges of life, the love shared between kindred souls could serve as a beacon of hope and solace. If there was any possibility to split a soul into three, perhaps it was born into life just for you. You were each other’s fate, come what may. That’s what you think. You know that they wouldn’t have it any other way either. Life made sense when you were happy together. And now you are.

GENRE: Hidden Inventory Arc - Shinjuku Showdown Arc, 2006/2007 - 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Humor, Romance, Afterlife, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Character Death, Mention of Grief, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Fluff, Mild Angst, Pining, Reunion, House of Three;

masterlist

kayu's playlist, side 400;

listen: happy together by the turtles

note: i speed-wrote this because i had some time while i took a break from doing my school work. i love this one, you guys. cause they finally realized they should be a throuple!!! anyway, installment one done!!! enjoy it you guys!!! i love you <333

WAKING UP WAS QUITE AN EXPERIENCE. As consciousness flooded back into your senses, you could feel your entire body jolt with a sudden shock, gasping for air as your eyes snapped open, wide with alarm. It was as if you had been yanked back from the brink of oblivion, returning to the realm of the living from where you had lain, motionless.

Beads of sweat dotted your temples, evidence of the intense ordeal you had just endured, while short, ragged breaths escaped your lips in quick succession, reminiscent of a runner finishing a grueling marathon. A chill ran down your spine, sending shivers rippling through your body, and you couldn't help but purse your lips as you sat in the eerie stillness that surrounded you.

Perched on the cold, unforgiving metal benches, you made a conscious effort not to lose your balance; after all, you were already prone to clumsiness. Amidst the disorienting haze that clouded your mind, one thought echoed louder than the rest: what was happening? It was a question that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, filling you with an overwhelming sense of dread and confusion.

As your eyes slowly begin to adjust to the glaring light assaulting them, you find yourself struggling to make sense of your surroundings. Every movement you make seems to flow effortlessly, your Jujutsu uniform clinging to your form, the bright yellow hoodie swaying gently against the back of your neck with each subtle shift. Squinting against the harsh brightness, your brow furrows in a gesture of discomfort before you finally manage to lift your gaze, revealing the source of the intense illumination: those bright, beaming lights overhead. A low growl of frustration rumbles silently in your throat, but you force yourself to look away, tenderly massaging your sensitive eyes in an attempt to ease the discomfort.

Yet, as you blink and open your eyes once more, a sudden realization strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Those lights—there's something undeniably familiar about them. In fact, they feel more familiar to you than you would have ever dared to hope. Casting your gaze around the vast expanse before you, you take in the massive glass windows, the endless rows of metal benches mirroring the one you occupy. Above, the wide expanding upper floors look like a circular maze, the long white columns stretching towards the heavens. Bright signs adorned with directional arrows point the way to terminal gates, their bold letters beckoning travelers onward.

Your mouth falls slightly agape, rendered speechless by the bewildering scene unfolding before you. Thoughts whirl through your mind in a chaotic frenzy. "Huh?" you inwardly mumble to yourself, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Why am I in Okinawa again?"

As you attempted to rise to your feet, a wave of dizziness washed over you, causing the room to spin alarmingly. "Too fast," you chastised yourself inwardly, recognizing the consequence of your sudden movement. The sensation of disorientation only intensified as you took in your surroundings—an empty, eerily silent airport devoid of any signs of life. This wasn't at all how you remembered Naha Airport from your previous visit with Satoru and Suguru, accompanied by Kuroi and Riko. Back then, it had been a bustling hub of activity, teeming with excited travelers eager to explore the exotic wonders of Okinawa or reluctant city-dwellers bidding farewell to the island paradise.

Your lips pressed together in a thin line as you made your way toward the expansive window, the view beyond revealing a grounded plane sitting desolately on the tarmac, devoid of any passengers or activity. Confusion gnawed at the edges of your mind as you struggled to piece together the fragmented puzzle of your current situation. The effort only served to exacerbate the pounding ache in your head, each attempt at coherence feeling like a futile road to go down on.

With each step towards the large window space, the weight of uncertainty pressed down upon you, adding to the throbbing ache in your head. Outside, the sight of the motionless plane sitting abandoned on the tarmac only deepened your sense of bewilderment. People would be here, no, you stopped yourself, they should be here. It was a stark contrast to the lively scenes you remembered from your previous visit, where the airport buzzed with the energy of travelers coming and going.

As you stood there, gazing out at the empty runway, a flurry of questions raced through your mind. How had you ended up here, alone in this deserted airport? Where were Satoru and Suguru? And what had happened to the vibrant atmosphere you had once experienced in Naha Airport? More importantly, what was the reason of you being here? And why are you all alone? You wouldn’t have gone here alone. Not by your own will, not at all.

Attempting to piece together the fragmented memories of your journey only served to exacerbate the pounding ache in your head. Frustration simmered beneath the surface as you struggled to make sense of the inexplicable situation unfolding before you. Your hands slides down to the depths of your uniform pockets and you gather yourself for a moment. Being frustrated wouldn’t do you good. With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the windowpane, your thoughts swirling in a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty.

In the midst of the desolation, a pang of longing surged within you, a sudden ache for Suguru's comforting presence. He had always been the anchor to your tumultuous emotions, his touch a source of solace that grounded you in reality. You could almost feel the warmth of his hand enveloping yours, offering reassurance in times of uncertainty. Suguru possessed an innate gentleness, a kindness that seemed to radiate from his very being. He had a way of easing your burdens, providing comfort and relief to the pain that lingered within you. It was as if he carried a piece of sunshine wherever he went, banishing darkness with his unwavering warmth.

As thoughts of Suguru lingered, your mind drifted to Satoru, another pillar of strength in your life. Despite his penchant for cheesy dad jokes, he had a knack for lifting spirits and bringing smiles even in the darkest of times. You could almost hear his infectious laughter echoing in the empty halls of the airport, a reminder of the joy he brought to those around him. You missed the sound of his laughter, the way it bubbled up before he could even deliver one of his infamous jokes.

With a heavy sigh, you scanned the barren surroundings, searching for any sign of life amidst the desolate emptiness that surrounded you. It felt as though you were trapped within your own cage of loneliness, yearning for the comforting presence of those who had always been there to chase away the shadows of doubt and despair.

As you stood there, adrift in the labyrinth of your own thoughts, the sudden intrusion of a voice shattered the eerie silence enveloping the abandoned airport. Its resonance seemed to reverberate through the desolate expanse of the airport lounge, punctuating the solitude with an unexpected interruption. Startled by the intrusion, you pivoted on your heels to locate its source, your senses heightened by the jarring contrast between the stillness and the sudden commotion.

There, amidst the ghostly surroundings, you caught sight of Amanai Riko racing towards you, tears tracing a glistening trail down her cheeks. Her frantic footsteps echoed off the empty walls, each stride a testament to the urgency of her approach. The sight of her tear-streaked face stirred a mixture of emotions within you, a blend of concern and bewilderment at the unexpected encounter.

"Hey, are you alright?" Riko's voice called out, trembling with emotion, as she hurried toward you. Her hands moved frantically, checking your sides, your face, your hair, as though uncertain of what to do but driven by an urgent need to ensure your well-being. Confusion clouded your mind as you tried to make sense of her actions, her touch both comforting and disconcerting in equal measure. Tears welled in her eyes, her distress palpable, and without a word, you found yourself enveloped in her embrace. “You’re here, I can’t believe you’re right here. I found you!”

You could feel the warmth of her tears soaking into your Jujutsu uniform, her apologies whispered between sobs. The sight of her vulnerability stirred a myriad of emotions within you, leaving you momentarily stunned into silence. Slowly, you reciprocated her embrace, your arms encircling her as you gently brushed her hair, urging her to release her pent-up emotions. Despite your own confusion, your instinct was to offer comfort, to be a source of solace in her time of need.

At that moment, questions lingered on the tip of your tongue, but you pushed them aside, prioritizing Riko's emotional well-being over your own uncertainties. All that mattered was being there for her, providing whatever support and comfort you could offer in the face of her tears.

"I'm so sorry," Riko choked out, her words muffled against the fabric of your shirt, her voice heavy with emotion. “I’m so so sorry!”

Confusion swept over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf your senses as you struggled to comprehend the depth of her distress. Yet, despite the uncertainty swirling within your mind, your instinct was to offer comfort, to provide solace in whatever way you could. With a gentle squeeze, you conveyed reassurance, a silent reminder that you were there for her, unwavering in your support.

"It's okay, Riko," you whispered softly, your voice a gentle murmur against the backdrop of her tears. Each syllable carried the weight of understanding and empathy, a soothing balm to the turmoil of emotions swirling around you. "Don't worry about it. You don't ever have to apologize for anything, darling girl."

"But! But….I just!" Riko's voice wavered, interrupted by sobs that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Shhh…" You cooed, your words a comforting melody as you gently hushed her protests. A soft laugh escaped your lips, the sound echoing against the strands of her hair as you held her close. "I don't know why you're apologizing, but it's okay. I'm not mad about anything."

As Riko's sobs gradually subsided, you cast a glance over her shoulder, noting Kuroi Misato's approach with a gentle smile gracing her lips. "Hey," Kuroi greeted softly, her voice carrying a warmth that belied the complexity of emotions swirling within her.

Despite the outward display of kindness, there lingered a subtle hint of unease in Kuroi's expression, a flicker of guilt that caught your attention like a shadow in the midst of sunlight. It was a discordant note amidst the tranquility of the moment, leaving you with a sense of disquiet that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.

As you pondered the significance of Kuroi's demeanor, a myriad of questions danced through your mind, each one seeking to unravel the mystery shrouding her intentions. Yet, try as you might, the elusive truth remained just beyond your grasp, leaving you to grapple with an unsettling sense of uncertainty. As Riko gradually regained her composure, you gently pulled away, your concern etched into every line of your face as you met her gaze with a mixture of worry and curiosity.

"What's going on?" you asked, your voice tinged with apprehension. You slowly straighten your posture and look between the younger girl and her guardian. “I woke up here….and you’re crying. And I just….”

With a trembling voice, Riko began to unravel the unsettling truth that had brought them to this deserted airport. She looks like she couldn’t even bear to tell you. But looking at her eyes, you realized that she was gathering the courage to say it to you. You wanted to coax it out of her, suspicion making your heart beat even faster at the anxiety. She looks at Kuroi, who gives her a soft smile and nods at her.

"We've been here for a while, on the other side of the airport," she explained, her words carrying the weight of revelation. "It took us some time to realize, but... we're dead."

The revelation hit you with the force of a thunderclap, jolting you from the realm of the familiar into the stark reality of their circumstances. It felt as if the ground had shifted beneath your feet, leaving you reeling in a maelstrom of disbelief and confusion. Each word uttered by Riko seemed to reverberate through the empty expanse of the airport, echoing off the walls like a haunting refrain.

Your mind raced to grasp the enormity of what she had just disclosed, but comprehension eluded you like a fleeting shadow. The implications of their predicament began to sink in slowly, like pebbles dropped into the vast ocean of your consciousness. This wasn't a mere misunderstanding or a figment of their imagination; it was the chilling truth laid bare before you.

As you struggled to come to terms with the stark reality of their situation, a sense of surrealism washed over you, enveloping you in a haze of uncertainty. It was as if you had been thrust into a waking dream, where the boundaries between life and death blurred and indistinct shades of gray.

Yet, amidst the tumult of emotions that threatened to engulf you, a flicker of determination ignited within your soul. You knew that you couldn't afford to dwell on shock and disbelief for long; there were questions to be answered, decisions to be made, and a journey into the unknown awaiting them all. With a steel resolve, you square your shoulders and prepare to confront whatever lay ahead, drawing strength from the bond that united you with Riko and Kuroi in this surreal limbo.

"Wait, what?" you stammered, your mind reeling with the enormity of what she was saying. It wasn’t registered. Your mouth parts, trying to get the words out. But nothing comes out.

This airport, once a bustling hub teeming with life and activity, now loomed before you as a solemn gateway to the afterlife. Its once vibrant corridors now echoed with the hollow silence of abandonment, the ghostly remnants of past travelers haunting its deserted halls. It was as if time had frozen within these walls, trapping them in a liminal space between the worlds of the living and the dead.

As the gravity of their situation settled upon you like a heavy shroud, a whirlwind of questions stormed through your mind, each one a relentless demand for answers in the face of this surreal reality. How had they ended up here? What awaited them beyond the confines of this desolate airport? And most pressing of all, what did it mean for their future?

Yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, you made a conscious choice to set aside your own uncertainties, focusing instead on providing Riko and Kuroi with the unwavering support they needed in this moment of profound uncertainty. With a steadfast resolve, you vowed to stand by their side, ready to confront whatever revelations the future held, even as you braced yourself for the unknown journey that lay ahead.

You let yourself slowly walk back to the benches.

You take a moment and you carefully sit down.

You look at the two of them as you cross your arms.

“Tell me everything you remember when you woke up.”

YOU THINK YOU SPENT QUITE WHILE REGISTERING EVERYTHING. The three of you huddled together in a somber tableau, grappling with the weight of the revelations that had reshaped your understanding of existence. There really isn't much to be done now, it seems. As the realization of your passing settles in, a heavy sigh escapes your lips, accompanied by a gentle rub of the back of your head.

The irony of finding yourself in an airport at this moment doesn't escape you; it's almost as if God has a penchant for whimsy in the afterlife. Taking a seat on one of the airport benches, you purse your lips in contemplation. You know you'll be waiting here for a while, and oddly enough, that's what you find solace in. Suguru and Satoru, together. You believe they'll be alright; those two were destined for long, fulfilling lives. At least, that's what you hope for. After all, Jujutsu sorcerers aren't typically associated with the concept of 'forever'.

In truth, for you, the concept of death had been a familiar companion since youth—a shadow that had trailed alongside you through the tumultuous journey of your upbringing. As an orphan with no prospects and no dreams to call your own, the specter of mortality had woven itself into the fabric of your being, a constant presence as natural as drawing breath into your lungs.

It was Tsukumo Yuki who had intervened, rescuing you from the abyss of despair during her travels and delivering you into the care of Yaga-sensei. Under his guidance, you had discovered the latent ability to perceive curses, a revelation that had irrevocably altered the trajectory of your life. Even then, death had not loosened its grip on you; the path of a sorcerer was fraught with peril, a reality Yaga-sensei had emphasized with disarming candor.

Yet, buoyed by the hope of strength and the promise of a newfound purpose, you had forged ahead, driven by the belief that diligence and determination would pave the way to a brighter future. In the embrace of companionship—with Satoru, with Shoko, with Suguru—you glimpsed the elusive promise of happiness, a fragile beacon amidst the darkness of uncertainty.

Now, faced with the stark reality of your demise, you couldn't help but mourn the life you had hoped to live—a life filled with love, with laughter, with the warmth of cherished bonds. The memory of your final moments flooded back, the visceral recollection of sacrificing yourself to shield Riko from harm, a selfless act that now loomed large in the landscape of regret.

As you leaned against the cold metal frame, a heavy sigh escaped your lips, carrying with it the weight of resignation and understanding. No wonder Riko felt guilty—your sacrifice had left an indelible mark on her conscience, a burden she now bore in the wake of your shared tragedy. You harbored no blame towards Riko, not even a trace of guilt weighed upon your conscience for sacrificing yourself in an attempt to protect her. From the depths of your being, there surged a profound sense of clarity—a steadfast conviction that your actions were born out of love and selflessness, devoid of any remorse or reproach.

In that fateful moment when danger had loomed large and fate had beckoned, you had acted instinctively, driven by an innate desire to shield Riko from harm at any cost. The notion of self-preservation had paled in comparison to the unwavering commitment to her safety, a commitment that transcended mere survival.

As you reflected upon the events that had led to your demise, there was no room for regret or recrimination. You supposed that it was the Jujutsu sorcerer in you. Yaga–sensei’s voice reverberated in your head, ‘A sorcerer doesn’t live for themselves. You live for others.’

The sentiment was something you wanted to laugh at. Satoru would laugh at how ridiculous that sounded, Suguru would think that it was ridiculous but it was what it was. But deep down you know you couldn’t. You know you wouldn’t. Instead, there existed a serene acceptance—a recognition that your final act had been keeping someone innocent alive. You did your duty, you stuck to your beliefs. You died well. You died fast too–you supposed that was a bonus in itself. That Sorcerer Killer had good aim too, you think. You sighed in finality, at the acceptance that this was fate. That this was what was destined. And it was what it was.

As you grapple with the weight of your departure, a single regret pierces through the fog of your thoughts, consuming your mind with its relentless presence. It's the ache of leaving behind Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko—the three pillars of your life, the anchors that tethered you to the realm of happiness and belonging.

Yet, amid this sea of regret, it's Suguru who occupies the forefront of your mind, his memory etched into the deepest recesses of your heart. You can't shake the feeling that your absence will inflict the deepest wounds upon him, for your love for him ran as deep as the ocean, binding your souls together in an unbreakable bond.

A flashback floods your consciousness, transporting you back to a moment frozen in time—a promise exchanged between lovers, whispered with the fervent hope of a future together. But now, as the harsh reality of your demise sets in, you find yourself grappling with the bitter irony of it all, the weight of unfulfilled promises hanging heavy on your soul.

You wish—oh, how you wish—that Suguru could understand the circumstances that led to your untimely departure, that he could find solace in the knowledge that your love for him transcends the boundaries of life and death. But even as you entertain this fleeting hope, a pang of uncertainty gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, whispering doubts of forgiveness and understanding.

And then there's Satoru—the other half of your soul, the one who had captured your heart with his infectious laughter and unwavering devotion. You can't bear to think of the pain that your absence will inflict upon him, the shattered dreams and broken promises that will haunt his waking hours.

A bittersweet memory emerges from the depths of your mind—a pinky promise exchanged between friends, a solemn vow to stand by each other's side until the end of time. But now, as you stand on the precipice of eternity, you can't help but wonder if Satoru will ever forgive you for breaking that sacred oath, for leaving him behind in a world devoid of your presence.

Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, a pang of guilt washes over you as you contemplate the impact of your absence on Shoko. She, too, had been an integral part of your life, a steadfast companion whose presence had brought warmth and solace in times of need. Now, as she navigates the bustling city streets alone, you can't help but feel a twinge of remorse knowing that she'll face each day without your comforting presence by her side.

You envision her, standing alone on the far-flung balcony of her dorm, the tendrils of smoke from her cigarette swirling around her like a melancholic dance. In that solitary moment, you can almost feel her loneliness echoing through the void, a stark reminder of the void you've left behind.

But even amidst the guilt and regret, you cling to a flicker of hope—that somehow, someway, Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko will come to understand the circumstances that led to your departure. You wish for nothing more than their forgiveness, their understanding, their acceptance of the choices you've made.

For now, as you stand at the crossroads of eternity, you hold onto the enduring love that binds you to them—a love that transcends time and space, a love that will guide you through the darkness and into the light.

A solemn silence settles over the three of you, each lost in your own thoughts and emotions. It's Riko who breaks the silence first, her voice trembling with emotion as she struggles to articulate the enormity of their situation.

"I... I never thought... I never imagined..." Riko's words falter, her eyes brimming with tears as she looks to you for comfort and understanding. “I just….”

You reach out to her, offering a reassuring squeeze of her hand as you meet her gaze with a soft smile. "It's okay, Riko. We'll figure this out together," you assure her, your voice laced with a gentle reassurance. “We gotta stick together, you hear me?”

Kuroi steps forward, her expression trying to lift from the veil of sorrow. She smiled. "We may not have all the answers right now, but we'll face this challenge together, as a team."

You nod in agreement, grateful for the unwavering support of your friends in this moment of uncertainty. "Thank you, both of you," you say with a sincere grin. “This might be easier with the two of you with me.”

With a determined smile, you hummed, eager to lift the spirits of your small group. You stand up from your chair. "Let's not dwell on what we can't change right now," you suggest gently, your voice infused with optimism. "Instead, why don't we explore this airport together? Who knows what we might find?"

Riko's eyes brighten slightly at the suggestion, a glimmer of curiosity replacing the sadness that had clouded her features moments before. She wipes the tears away. "That sounds like a good idea," she agrees, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Kuroi nods in approval, her resolve visibly strengthening as she takes your lead. "We'll make the most of this situation," she declares with newfound determination.

“Now, let’s go! I’m craving an ice cream sundae!”

Riko laughs as she follows closely behind you. “We’re dead, we can’t eat ice cream.”

“It doesn’t matter, I want it!” You laughed back at her, but more obnoxiously. “Kuroi, what’s your favorite ice cream?”

“Oh, that’s a hard one to decide….”

As you set off together, embarking on a journey of exploration and discovery, you can't help but feel a spark of hope ignite within you. Though the road ahead may be uncertain, you take comfort in the knowledge that you're not alone—you have each other, and together, you'll find a way to navigate this strange new world.

With a sense of purpose guiding your steps, you forge ahead into the unknown, ready to face whatever challenges may come your way. And as you walk side by side, the promise of a brighter future beckons on the horizon, filling your hearts with renewed courage and determination.

You had high hopes that it’ll be just the three of you for now.

If there was a god watching you now, you whispered a wish.

You wished that those you love would live a long and happy life.

But a few months later, you stood and frowned as you stared.

Brown eyes stared at you, cheeks flustered all the way through.

“Yu Haibara, how the fu—you were supposed to grow old, idiot!”

YOU COULDN’T HELP BUT THINK. That’s all you could really do here, if you were being honest. God perhaps intended purgatory as a reflection on your life. But somehow, these days, you end up thinking more about your new arrival—-Yu Haibara, and how he got here. Why was he here? You already knew why. And yet you kept pondering why. Why did he end up here so early? Why should such a boy with a life long ahead of him be here?

In the hushed moments of contemplation, memories of Haibara's sacrifice resurfaced like ghosts haunting the corridors of your mind. You didn’t tell him about it, but you ended up thinking that he was more like you than you liked. You wished in a way, that the boy he was, had been a little bit more selfish. He didn’t have to tell you how he died — you already knew. Because he was just that kind. He was too good of a person.

His selfless act, a final testament to his unwavering loyalty and boundless courage, lingered with poignant clarity, etching itself into the fabric of your consciousness. The image of him, standing tall and resolute in the face of danger, sacrificing himself to shield Nanami from harm, was seared into your memory like a brand, a testament to the indomitable spirit that defined him.

Nanami Kento must have been distraught, you think. Your little Ken, as you liked to call him, was more emotional than he let on, you like to think. To lose you both in the distance of one year, that’s a big blow — at least you like to think so. Kento had few people he liked to genuinely call friends. Even with you, he was formal. But Haibara? Haibara was his closest friend, even if he didn’t say it out loud. And now Haibara’s gone. You didn’t know what to say, at first. But Haibara just smiled at you.

As you reminisced about that conversation with Haibara, his words echoed in your mind with a poignant clarity, each syllable carrying a weight of its own. His reassurance, delivered with a grin that belied his own fears, had offered a fleeting moment of solace amidst the turmoil of grief and uncertainty. But even then, you couldn't shake the heavy burden of concern that weighed upon your heart.

“He’ll be alright,” Haibara wistfully smiled at you. “He’s a strong guy you know! He’s survived this long!”

"I hope so. But he'll miss his friend the most, you know," you murmured softly, your gaze tender as you looked upon Haibara, your voice heavy with unspoken worry.

In response, Haibara had laughed heartily, his laughter a balm to your troubled soul. "Hm, I know. But we'll see him one day. For now... he has to live. Long and happily too."

Your response had been a quiet hum of agreement, the weight of his words lingering in the air like a promise yet to be fulfilled. Together, you had watched the birds outside the airport window, their graceful flight a stark contrast to the heavy thoughts that weighed upon your mind.

And then, in a moment of unexpected candor, Haibara had turned to you, his expression earnest as he broached a topic that had long been left unspoken between you.

"You know..." he had begun hesitantly, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words to convey the depth of his emotions.

"Yeah?" you had prompted, your curiosity piqued by the sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Geto-senpai and Gojo-senpai..." Haibara had started, his gaze flickering with a mixture of sadness and regret. "They were really sad about your death."

The revelation had struck you like a blow to the chest, the weight of his words crushing in their sincerity. In that moment, you had been reminded of the far-reaching impact of your passing, the ripple effect of grief and loss that had reverberated through the lives of those you held dear. And as you grappled with the magnitude of their sorrow, a pang of guilt had seared through your heart, a painful reminder of the unintended consequences of your untimely departure.

A heavy silence descended between you and Haibara, the weight of his words hanging in the air like an unspoken truth. You felt a lump form in your throat, the guilt of causing pain to those you cared about weighing heavily on your shoulders.

"I... I didn't mean to hurt them," you finally murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to articulate the turmoil within your heart.

Haibara's gaze softened, a gentle understanding shining in his eyes as he reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know, senpai. None of us blame you for what happened. It's just... hard, you know? Losing someone we cared about so deeply."

Tears welled up in your eyes, a silent testament to the depth of your remorse. "I wish I could have stayed," you admitted, your voice choking with emotion. You straighten your posture. You tried to be strong. "I wish I could have been there for them, to ease their pain and share in their sorrow."

Haibara's grip on your shoulder tightened, offering a silent reassurance in the midst of your anguish. "I know, senpai. But we can't change what's already happened. All we can do is cherish the memories we shared and hold onto the hope that one day, we'll be reunited with them again."

You nodded in agreement, finding solace in Haibara's words. "You're right," you whispered, a sense of determination settling over you. "We'll wait. Like they’re waiting.”

In those quiet moments of solitude, you found yourself reflecting on the bonds that had formed between you and your companions, forged through shared experiences and the trials of this peculiar existence. Haibara, Kuroi, Riko—each one has become an indispensable part of your makeshift family, their presence a source of strength and comfort in the face of uncertainty.

As you watched the sunset beyond the airport windows, casting a warm glow over the empty terminal, memories of happier times flooded your mind. You recalled the laughter that had once echoed through these halls, the shared meals and late-night conversations that had brought you all closer together.

But amidst the nostalgia, there lingered a palpable sense of loss—the absence of those who had left this world too soon, their laughter now just a distant echo in the recesses of your mind. You couldn't help but wonder what they would think if they could see you now, still waiting, still hoping for a chance at redemption.

Yet, despite the passage of time and the weight of your regrets, you refused to lose hope. You clung to the belief that one day, your vigil would come to an end, and you would be reunited with those you had lost. Until then, you would continue to cherish the moments you shared with your companions, finding solace in their unwavering support and the enduring bonds of friendship that bound you together.

As the last rays of sunlight faded into darkness, you found yourself filled with a renewed sense of purpose—a determination to make the most of each passing day, to live fully and love deeply, even in the midst of this endless waiting. And so, with a quiet resolve, you turned to face the challenges of the days ahead, guided by the enduring light of hope that burned brightly within your heart.

Amidst the ever-present stillness of the airport, a burst of playful energy erupted as Riko suggested the game of hide and seek. "Let's play hide and seek!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around at the group.

You and your companions eagerly embraced the idea, craving a reprieve from the relentless monotony of waiting. With a chorus of agreement, you all scattered in different directions, eager to find the perfect hiding spot or to be the one to uncover the others' hiding places.

As the designated seeker, you closed your eyes and began counting aloud while the others hurried off to conceal themselves. The rhythmic cadence of your countdown filled the air, accompanied by the faint sounds of laughter and shuffling as your friends found their spots.

"One... two... three..." you began, the anticipation building with each passing moment. "Ten! Ready or not, here I come!"

You navigated the deserted corridors of the airport, your senses heightened as you scanned every nook and cranny for any sign of movement. Laughter echoed faintly in the distance, teasing you with hints of where your friends might be hiding.

As you rounded a corner, you caught a glimpse of movement—a flicker of movement behind a row of empty seats. Your heart raced with anticipation as you quickened your pace, closing in on the source of the movement. But as you rounded the corner, your momentum carried you forward, and before you knew it, you collided with someone—someone whose familiar touch sent a jolt of recognition coursing through your veins. You thought it was Kuroi. You believed it was Kuroi.

"Gotcha!" you exclaimed triumphantly, reaching out to tag the figure on the shoulder.

The realization hit you like a sudden gust of wind, knocking the breath from your lungs and leaving you reeling in disbelief. The warmth of the hand against yours was unmistakable—this wasn't Kuroi. Her touch was always cool, her fingers delicate and precise. But this hand... it was different. It was warm, rough with calluses that spoke of a life filled with toil and hardship.

As the truth began to sink in, your heart raced with a frantic rhythm, each beat echoing loudly in your ears as your mind struggled to process the impossible reality before you. Why was he….here? How was it possible? This soon?

Your eyes widened ever so slowly in the shock you felt as you resisted the urge to look up, to meet his gaze and confront the truth that lay between you. You knew that if you looked into his eyes, you would see the same pain and confusion mirrored there—the same turmoil that threatened to consume you whole.

“It’s you….”

The sound of his voice, so achingly familiar yet tinged with a hint of reproach, pierced through the haze of disbelief that enveloped you. You could feel his gaze boring into you, urging you to meet his eyes, to confront the truth that lay between you.

But you couldn't bring yourself to look. Not yet. Not when the wounds of his passing were still so fresh, raw with the sting of loss and longing. Instead, you bit your lip in a futile attempt to steady your trembling emotions, feeling the hot sting of tears welling up in your eyes.

“Look at me,” he pleaded, his voice soft yet filled with an unspoken urgency.

You shook your head, unable to find the strength to meet his gaze, to face the reality of his absence head-on.

“After all this time, are you going to deny me seeing your face?” His words were laced with a mixture of longing and frustration, a silent plea for reconciliation that echoed in the empty space between you.

Your heart ached at the sound of his voice, the memories of your shared love flooding your mind with bittersweet intensity. Ten years—ten long years since you last saw him, since he slipped away from your grasp and into the cold embrace of eternity.

And now, here he was, standing before you with his hand outstretched, a silent reminder of everything you had lost and everything that could never be again.

But still, you couldn't bring yourself to look—to face the truth that lay before you, to acknowledge the gaping void that his absence had left in your heart.

“I can't,” you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse murmur.

The air between you hung heavy with unspoken words, the weight of your shared history pressing down upon you like a suffocating blanket. And as the tears continued to flow, you knew that no matter how hard you tried to deny it. He died. And so soon. He didn’t let himself grow old. He didn’t let himself live the life you wanted for him. You cried even more in the silence.

As you looked up, your breath caught in your throat, tears welling in your eyes at the sight of Suguru standing before you. His expression softened with concern as he reached out to steady you, his touch sending waves of warmth cascading through your body. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you gazed into his eyes, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions that threatened to consume you. His purple eyes gleamed, almost so wondrously as though he was taking in the features of your face. As though he’d forgotten. He slowly smiled as tears poured down from his eyes too. His breath became shaky as his fingers rested on your chin.

In that fleeting instant, all the pain and longing you had carried with you melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and belonging. Without a word, you threw your arms around him, clinging to him as though he were the anchor that could tether you to this world. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you buried your face in his chest, the weight of your shared sorrow and joy pressing against you like a comforting embrace.

In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of laughter and the warmth of Suguru's embrace, you knew that no matter how long you waited or how far you roamed, you would always find your way back to each other. And as you stood there, lost in the embrace of the one you loved, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you—a hope that one day, you would be reunited with all those you held dear, in a place where time had no power to separate.

As the warmth of his embrace enveloped you, you couldn't help but let the floodgates of emotion burst open, tears streaming down your cheeks as you buried your face against his chest. The familiar scent of him, a mixture of earthy musk and the faint hint of his favorite cologne, washed over you, comforting you in a way that nothing else could.

“You idiot,” you cried out, your voice muffled against the warmth of his flesh. “You couldn’t even make me proud by growing old and living a whole life to tell me. You’re so annoying, you….”

But before you could finish your tirade, his laughter cut through the air, a melodic sound that echoed against your bodies and filled the empty space between you. It was a laugh filled with joy, unbridled and free, and for a fleeting moment, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at the happiness he exuded.

“I didn’t want to live a whole life if you weren’t going to be in it,” he confessed, his voice soft yet resolute. “There was nothing to smile about.”

His words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the depth of his love for you, even in the face of eternity. And as you stood there, locked in each other's embrace, you knew that no matter what trials may come, no matter how much time may pass, the bond you shared with Suguru would endure—a beacon of hope in the darkness that now enveloped your soul.

In that moment, amidst the chaos of emotions swirling within you, a sense of peace washed over your weary soul. You realized that even in death, your love for each other remained as steadfast as ever, an unbreakable thread binding your hearts together for all eternity.

"I missed you," you whispered, your voice barely a breath against his chest.

"I missed you too," he replied, his arms tightening around you in a silent promise never to let go again.

For a timeless moment, you simply stood there, lost in the embrace of the one you thought you had lost forever. The weight of the years spent apart melted away, leaving only the warmth of his love to fill the void in your heart.

But as the realization of your reunion settled in, a new sense of purpose stirred within you. You knew that you couldn't stay in this airport forever, trapped in a limbo of waiting and longing. There were others out there, waiting for you, longing to be reunited just as you had been.

You pulled away from Suguru's embrace, meeting his gaze with a determined glint in your eyes. "We can't stay here," you said firmly. "There are others who’d want to see you.”

Suguru nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring your determination. "You're right," he said. "We'll find a way. Together. But….”

You looked at him as he smiled at you, his height bearing down upon you.

“Let me kiss you.” He whispers to you. “Before you introduce me to the others.”

You felt a soft flutter in your chest at his words, a mixture of longing and anticipation coursing through your veins. Despite the weight of the years that had passed, the desire to feel his lips against yours burned fiercely within you.

Without a word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and Suguru. His lips met yours in a tender embrace, a silent exchange of love and longing that transcended the boundaries of time and space. In that fleeting moment, all the pain and sorrow of the past faded into insignificance, replaced by the overwhelming warmth of his touch.

As you pulled away, you met Suguru's gaze, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered softly, his voice barely a breath against your lips.

Your heart flutters at his words.

He grins at you, wholeheartedly.

You admit, your heart is a little bit full.

But you knew it wasn’t as full as yet.

Satoru, you wanted to see Satoru too.

IT WAS DECEMBER 24TH 2018 WHEN GOJO SATORU ARRIVED AT THE AIRPORT. As you and Suguru stood by the airport benches, your embrace providing a comforting anchor amidst the chaos of the bustling terminal, a sense of tranquility settled over you. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own private sanctuary.

But amidst this moment of serenity, a movement caught your eye, drawing your attention to a familiar figure nearby. There, amidst the deserted terminal, Satoru lay sleeping, his form peaceful and serene against the backdrop of the bustling airport.

You exchanged a glance with Suguru, a silent communication passing between you as you both recognized the significance of the moment. It was an unexpected reunion, one that held the promise of both joy and uncertainty.

For a moment, you simply stood there, lost in the quiet beauty of the scene before you. The terminal faded into the background, leaving only Satoru and the two of you in a timeless embrace. As you watched Satoru sleep, a rush of emotions swept over you, mingling with the tender affection you felt for him. It was a moment of unexpected beauty, a reminder of the enduring bond that connected the three of you, even across the vast expanse of time and space.

"He didn't even wait a year after you," you remarked to Suguru, a hint of annoyance creeping into your voice as you crossed your arms. "Nanami Ken-Ken, I understand. But the two of you?"

Suguru's snort was barely audible, but the wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips spoke volumes. Memories flooded his mind as he remembered the last time Nanami had made an unexpected appearance in the airport. He couldn't help but find amusement in the way you had reacted then – your expression a mix of shock and disappointment that was, in his eyes, utterly endearing.

In that moment, Suguru couldn't help but recall just how adorable you looked when you expressed such disappointment. He knew you well enough to recognize that pout – the one that often graced your lips when things didn't go as planned, or when someone didn't meet your expectations. It was a trait of yours that Satoru, too, was likely familiar with.

But Suguru understood the underlying reason behind your tendency to pout and lecture. It wasn't borne out of mere petulance or frustration; rather, it stemmed from a deep-seated care and concern for those around you. You had a heart that overflowed with love and compassion, and you wanted nothing more than for everyone to live longer, happier lives – even if it meant lecturing them endlessly or wearing that adorable pout.

It was this caring nature of yours that Suguru found so utterly captivating, and it was a trait that had endeared you to him even more over the years. As he looked at you now, lost in your thoughts, he couldn't help but feel a swell of affection for you – a silent acknowledgment of the depth of your love and the strength of your character.

As you stood in the airport, a familiar figure caught your eye. It was Nanami, standing there in the terminal, his presence a shocking revelation. Disbelief washed over you, mingled with a sense of incredulity. How could he be here after all this time? He was supposed to be alive and well. If anyone was going to outlive them all now, it would be Nanami. Suguru had said that he had left that life behind, after you and Haibara passed away. But to have seen him there, as young as you met him, rubbing the back of his head as you

Without a second thought, you rushed over to him, your voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of annoyance. "Nanami? What are you doing here?" you demanded, unable to mask the surprise in your tone. "You... you shouldn't be here. You're supposed to be..."

“Well, I’m here.” Nanami Kento replied to you, sighing, crossing his arms. He was as much a teenager as you remember him to be. “I’m dead, senpai.”

“You….”

But before you could finish your sentence, you launched into a tirade, peppering Nanami with questions and admonishments. "You can't just waltz into the airport like nothing happened!" you exclaimed, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "Do you have any idea how bad this is? Suguru said you left Jujutsu! Why did you come back, you idiot?”

“......It’s not like I have anything to do.”

“Kento, is that you?” Yu Haibara’s mouth went agape as he stood before you all, looking at his closest friend. “You still look the same! Emo and all!”

Nanami frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Now, now,” Suguru tries to mitigate.

“Wait, I’m not done lecturing!” You impede, your brows furrowing. You sighed, lowering your head to your palm. “Let me think for a second, I’m overstimulating.”

Haibara grinned. “You can do it, senpai!”

“That’s not helping.” Nanami whispers.

“Shhhhhhhhh!” You put your index finger on your lip, glaring at him. “I’m not done!”

Your words trailed off as you struggled to find the right ones, emotions swirling within you like a storm. But despite your agitation, Nanami Kento remained silent, his expression unreadable as he listened to your impassioned speech. He knew you weren’t going to stop. You were more the parent than Geto Suguru, after all.

At the sight of your antics, Suguru couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing softly through the terminal. "Leave it to you to give him a proper scolding, even after he's dead," he remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“You’re not out of the water either!”

"You make it seem like it was a choice for us to go down that route," Suguru replied, his tone tinged with resignation. It was a reminder of the circumstances that had led them here, to this peculiar purgatory where time seemed to stand still. “It is fate, whatever happened.”

"It is a choice," you insisted, leaning against Suguru's side as you settled down beside him on the bench. "I wanted to see you with white hair."

Suguru chuckled, his smile widening as he reached over to playfully poke at Satoru's hair. "You already see so much of that on Satoru," he remarked teasingly.

You swatted Suguru's hand away with a mock glare. "Hey, he might develop a bald spot with that!" you protested, unable to suppress a grin.

Suguru laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "He's already in the afterlife, he's gonna be fine," he reassured you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow skeptically. "We're not even sure if he's dead, Suguru! His soul is a bit glitchy from here!" you retorted back to your lover.

Suguru met your gaze with a playful smirk. "You can see souls?" he quipped, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"I'm dead, so obviously, I do!" you shot back, unable to resist a jab back at him.

Suguru's smirk widened into a grin as he considered your words. "What if we return him back to life and he's bald?" he mused, the corners of his lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

“That’s not funny, Suguru!”

Just as you and Suguru continued to trade playful banter, Satoru stirred from his slumber, blinking groggily as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight of you and Suguru sitting beside him, the playful atmosphere of your conversation washing over him. You waved at him, happily greeting him. He couldn’t believe it. How he was seeing you greet him in that warm manner, as you always have when you were alive.

Satoru's initial disbelief gradually gave way to a sense of wonder as he took in the sight of you waving at him, a warm smile gracing your lips. It was a sight he had longed to see for years, a memory that he had held onto tightly even as the years stretched on in this strange limbo.

With a mixture of awe and gratitude, Satoru returned your wave, his heart swelling with emotion at the sight of you. It felt surreal, almost dreamlike, to be greeted by you in such a familiar manner, as if no time had passed at all.

For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in the warmth of your presence, the memory of your smile etched into his mind like a cherished treasure. It was a moment of pure bliss amidst the uncertainty of their existence in this surreal afterlife, a reminder of the enduring bond that connected them across the boundaries of life and death.

"Yo," Suguru greeted Satoru casually, a grin spreading across his face.

Satoru's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief as he processed the unexpected reunion. "This is freaking awful," he muttered, his words tinged with a mixture of incredulity and bemusement.

Geto pouted exaggeratedly, feigning offense at Satoru's response. "Hey, that's rude," he protested with mock indignation. “I can’t believe you greet the love of my life warmly but you greet me so cruelly.”

You let your tongue out at Suguru. “I’m his best friend, of course, bangs!”

He pinches your cheek as you squeal “You’re acting so cheekily again.”

Satoru sighed, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to make sense of the situation. "I told my students that when they die, they'll be alone," he explained, his tone tinged with a hint of resignation. "So I'm hoping this is just some illusion."

You couldn't help but laugh at Satoru's melodramatic proclamation, shaking your head in amusement. It was a clearly playful jab, one that you had not been able to say to him in such a long time. "That’s actually such a loser statement, Satoru," you teased, a fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You’ve gotten this lame over the years, Gojo–sensei?”

“I’m Satoru to you, thank you very much,” The blue eyed sorcerer pouts at you, crossing his arms. Though he had to admit, he liked the way you said Gojo–sensei. “And Yaga–sensei was the one who said it to me! Blame him, not me!”

As Satoru sat there, basking in the warmth of your presence, a wave of pure contentment washed over him, enveloping him in a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in years. The sound of your laughter was music to his ears. It was a harmony that he had been waiting to hear for a decade since you’ve passed. It was a feeling he struggled to put into words, a profound sense of happiness that seemed to resonate deep within his soul.

In that moment, surrounded by the familiar faces of you and Suguru, Satoru couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the opportunity to see you again. He had missed you more than words could express, longing for the warmth of your smile and the comfort of your presence during the long years of solitude in this airport purgatory.

Even as he grappled with the knowledge that he could never truly express his romantic feelings for you, Satoru found solace in the simple joy of being near you once more. For him, this moment was a glimpse of paradise, a fleeting taste of happiness that he would treasure for eternity.

In your presence, Satoru felt a sense of completeness that he had never known before, a feeling that transcended the boundaries of life and death. You were his paradise, his beacon of light in the darkness of this strange afterlife, and for that, he would be forever grateful.

As he sat there, savoring the precious moments with you, Satoru couldn't help but reflect on how his ten years in this limbo had led him to this beautiful reunion. Despite the uncertainties and challenges he had faced during his time here, none of it seemed to matter in comparison to the overwhelming joy of being with you once again.

He thought about all the times he had yearned to see your face, to hear your laughter, to feel the warmth of your touch. And now, as he sat beside you, surrounded by the gentle hum of the airport and the comforting presence of his friends, Satoru realized that this was where he truly belonged.

In your company, Satoru found a sense of peace and happiness that he had never known before. You were his anchor in this strange world, his guiding light through the darkness of uncertainty. And even though he could never express the depth of his feelings for you, he took comfort in the knowledge that he was with you, sharing this moment of bliss together. As the weight of his past burdens lifted from his shoulders, Satoru smiled, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude. For in this moment, surrounded by the ones he cherished most, he knew that he was home.

“Does he know?” You asked Satoru, looking at him with a soft tone.

He looked at you with his blue eyes, his glasses lowering. “Who?”

“That boy, you’ve been taking care of.” You whisper back to him.

“How'd you know about him?”

“I met his father around here—”

"Who cares?" Geto's voice cut through the silence, breaking the tension with a note of indifference. “He killed you.”

"I know" you retorted back, your tone gentle yet firm. "But he deserves to know about his dad too, you know. That boy….family ties run deep, especially when it comes to matters of the heart."

With a thoughtful nod, Satoru left the topic hanging in the air, shifting the focus to more pressing matters. "I've left it with Shoko to handle," he added, his tone indicating a sense of finality.

“We’re not even sure if you’re dead yet.” You whisper back to him, your hand resting on his. “You’ll be able to tell him.”

Satoru didn’t know how to tell you.

But you looked so beautiful to him.

He didn’t want to leave you here.

He wanted to stay with you and Suguru.

He wanted to be happy here, together.

“How was fighting Sukuna?” Suguru asked him, changing the topic.

"He was strong," Satoru admitted, his voice tinged with respect. "Even though he wasn't giving his all."

Suguru nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful as he considered Satoru's words. "It must have been quite the battle," he remarked, his eyes reflecting a mixture of admiration and curiosity.

Satoru's lips curled into a wry smile, his demeanor surprisingly casual given the intensity of the confrontation. "It was exhilarating," he admitted, his voice carrying a note of genuine enjoyment. "But I can't help but feel a twinge of pity for Sukuna. He didn't bring his full strength to the table."

You couldn't help but laugh at Satoru's nonchalant attitude, leaning affectionately against him as you basked in his presence. His scent enveloped you, a comforting reminder of the bond you shared. "Only the strongest would say something like that," you remarked fondly, your eyes sparkling with admiration. "As expected of you."

Geto's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of jealousy briefly clouding his expression as he processed Satoru's words. "That's what sets him apart," he acknowledged quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of envy. "But if you're content with the outcome, then perhaps that's all that truly matters."

Satoru's grin widened at Geto's response, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "I suppose I would have been more satisfied if you were there to spur me on," he teased, his tone laced with sincerity. He gently looks at Suguru and then at you. “It would have made me feel a little bit more at ease.”

“Don’t you mean, less cocky?” Suguru teased him back but Satoru just laughed.

You take a moment to express your heartfelt gratitude to Satoru, your voice filled with genuine emotion as you speak. "I'm proud of you, Satoru," you say, your words carrying the weight of years of admiration and affection. "After all you've done, after all you've been through... I'm just so happy to see you again, to be together with you and Suguru."

As you gaze at Satoru, a sense of completeness washes over you, the weight of years of separation lifting from your shoulders. "You've brought so much light into my life," you continue, your voice soft but filled with conviction. "My heart feels whole again, thanks to you."

“South or north,” Satoru says, after a moment of silence. “Where do you think I should go?”

Satoru's question lingered in the air like a heavy fog, casting a veil of uncertainty over the moment. You and Suguru exchanged a meaningful glance, both understanding the weight of Satoru's decision. Going south meant embracing the reunion, journeying together towards an uncertain but hopeful future. Going north meant bidding farewell once again, facing the prospect of separation with stoic resolve.

"Moving south," you begin, your gaze drifting towards the direction of the plane resting on the tarmac. You turn back to Satoru, a smile playing on your lips, though this one carries a hint of somberness. "Means you'll stay as you are."

Satoru takes in your words, his expression thoughtful as he absorbs their implications. Leaning against the airport bench, he looks at you and Suguru, the two people who make up his world, with a sense of resolve. "Here," he breathes out, his voice tinged with determination. "True to myself."

Suguru nods in understanding, his gaze shifting between you and Satoru. "But to go north…," he begins, his tone gentle yet firm. "You'll discover a new part of yourself. Another you."

Satoru's expression tightens slightly, the weight of his decision bearing down on him. "But without you," he adds, his voice heavy with unspoken regret. It's a realization he never wanted to voice, but one he knows he must confront. He isn't truly dead, and he can feel it as much as you can.

Your eyes soften as you meet Satoru's gaze, your palm instinctively resting on top of his hand in a gesture of comfort. "Just for now," you assure him, your voice filled with warmth and understanding. "It's not forever."

"We'll wait for you, until the next flight," Suguru chimes in, his grin conveying unwavering strength for the blue eyed sorcerer. Together, the three of you stand at the crossroads of possibility, each prepared to face the future with courage and determination, no matter which path Satoru chooses. “Even if everyone goes ahead, we’ll be here. Waiting for you.”

Satoru's eyes soften as he stands, his gaze shifting towards the north. With a determined nod, he takes a step forward, his eyes meeting yours with a depth of emotion that transcends words. Leaning in, he presses a gentle kiss on your hair, a silent gesture of gratitude and affection for all that you mean to him.

Satoru's warm smile illuminated his features as he turned to Suguru, a silent expression of gratitude and affection passing between them. With gentle tenderness, he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on Suguru's cheek, a simple yet profound gesture of love and reassurance.

Suguru's eyes met Satoru's, a softness reflecting in their depths as they exchanged a silent conversation. It was a moment of quiet understanding, a wordless exchange that spoke volumes of their deep bond and unwavering commitment to each other.

In that moment, as you looked at them and they looked back at you, you felt a profound sense of reassurance. Their eyes held the promise of a brighter tomorrow, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the enduring power of love. It was as if they were whispering to you with the windows of their souls, assuring you that everything would be alright, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

As Satoru straightens, his resolve firm and his heart heavy with the weight of his decision, he meets your gaze one last time. In that fleeting moment, you share a silent understanding, a mutual promise to await his return and embrace whatever the future may hold. Suguru wraps his arms around you, grinning at Satoru.

With one final glance at the two of you. You urge him forward, your eyes swimming with a watery glaze. He smiles at you and whispers to you, to Suguru – ‘I love you’;

‘I know.’ Both you and Suguru whisper back.

As Gojo Satoru takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed towards the north, a sense of resolve washes over him. He knows not what awaits him on the path ahead, but he steps forward with unwavering courage and determination. The road may be shrouded in uncertainty, but he finds solace in the knowledge that the bonds of love, forged over years of companionship and camaraderie, will serve as his guiding light.

You and Suguru stand by, silent witnesses to Satoru's journey, your presence a source of strength and support. Though the time for your reunion may not yet have come, Satoru carries your wishes in his heart as he ventures forth into the unknown. He is determined to fulfill your desire for him to live a long and happy life, to carry on in your memory and honor your legacy.

But there are tasks still left unfinished, promises yet to be fulfilled. Satoru's thoughts turn to the future, to the responsibilities that await him. He must see to it that your final wishes are carried out, that you and Suguru find peace together. He must be there for Shoko, for Megumi, for his students who look up to him with admiration and respect. They still need him, relying on his guidance and wisdom to navigate the trials that lie ahead.

With each step he takes, Satoru embraces the uncertainty of the journey, knowing that with courage and determination, he will find his way home. And though the road may be long and fraught with challenges, he walks it with the assurance that love will light the way, leading him back to the warmth and comfort of your embrace, one day. But not yet. For now, he walks forward, his heart filled with hope and his spirit fortified by the knowledge that you and Suguru will always be with him, guiding him home.

It may take some time.

He’d be away from you.

But he knows he’ll return.

Three of you, together.

You’ll be happy together.

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