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hirsheyskisses · 7 months

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When You're Sober.

RORONOA ZORO x READER (short)

Summary: Being Roronoa's childhood friend, he's declared for the world to hear how one day, he's going to make you his wife. As adults, you had assumed he moved on, but as it stands..

A/N: I've had this in my head for AHH so long. So I'm writing it before I go back to requests 🤣

"..are you going to stay this time?"

Child Zoro questioned you. You sighed softly, seeing the tears pricking at his eyes pulled your heart strings in ways the young swordsman couldn't even begin to comprehend. Kuina's funeral had just ended, and Zoro had immediately sought you out. You were a slightly older swordsman pupil, by 2 years to be exact, and Zoro had latched onto you recently, with Kuina jokingly teasing you of how much he liked you. Sure, 11 and 13 weren't too big, but to a kid, it was all the difference. Still though, you couldn't help but care for him.

"..no. I'll be staying at the dojo." You replied, watching him smile, just a bit. You were both still sad after Kuina's death, and you weren't about to leave the mossball all on his lonesome- and you'd grown to like this dojo, as had your father. You were certain you could convince him to stay, rather than travel to another.

"Good! 'Cause I'm gonna marry you one day, so I can't have you leaving!" Zoro declared tearfully, through his shit eating grin, and you quickly angled your head away and growled, "we're not getting married!"

It didn't matter how many times you defended yourself, he wouldn't let up. If flustered and enraged you to no end. No matter how many battles you raged against him, no matter how many times you had him panting and defeated, holding your wooden sword to his throat, no, none of it scared Zoro.

"I'm gonna marry you one day, (Name)!"

Sometimes, Zoro would even sneak into your bed. You realized they were mostly driven by nightmares. You'd hear him slowly open the door, sniffling from tears, and walk over to you. He'd prod your side before diving under the covers with you, snuggling as close to your side as possible. "I know.. you're awake." He'd mumble, wrapping his arms around you. You'd give in, wrapping one around him. "Yeah. Hard not to when ya sneak into my bed." Zoro snuggled a bit closer. "Wanna be close. That's all." You knew it was more. He trusted you. He even began to tell you about the nightmares, and despite yourself, You'd comfort him. Hold him until he fell asleep.

It grew increasingly difficult for you to be mad at him, especially not seeing as it had become almost a game- plus his wholesome and innocent smile was so damn adorable. You figured he'd grow out of it eventually, popping out of nowhere to declare his undying love. Until then, you grew accustomed to him popping out of closets, around trees and doors, and through windows and met his confessions through the clashes of your blades.

As it turns out, Zoro did grow out of it. The two of you had long since left the dojo together, became bounty hunters, and then became pirates on Luffy's crew. Around 16, and you being 18 is when Zoro had began to stop asking, the questions growing less and less often until they had halted altogether, his mind set on fulfilling his promise to Kuina, to become the world's strongest and carry his name to the heavens, where yours was to find the world's wonders, and the blades of your dreams. In fact, the last time he'd done so..

..Zoro had grown. He knew that, you knew that. He'd never let you live down that you're shorter than him, much to your dismay. You both had barely left the dojo, and Zoro had decided the first thing he wanted to do was drink for the first time. So that's what he did. You chose to stay sober, just in case.

What you hasn't anticipated was just how clingy he'd get when he was wasted.

"Hey.." you were leading him back to the hotel, when without any warning, he'd pulled you into an alley and pushed you gently against the wall. Zoro stared intently into your eyes and pressed himself a bit closer, you could smell the alcohol from his breath. "Fuckin- Zoro! What're ya doin?!"

"So cute.." he'd lean in and smell your hair, his earrings glinting in the moonlight, arms keeping you caged against the wall. "I've waited.. s'long. M' even of age now."

He pulled back a bit, towering over you, and you could feel yourself becoming a furious, blushing mess. Zoro himself was flushed, panting softly, lips parted ever so slightly.

"Wanna marry ya. Wanna marry ya s'bad.."

He slurred, and you flushed a deeper shade of red. His hand reached up to tuck some hair behind your ear, and you were frozen for a long moment. Until you finally came back to your senses.

Shoving his face away, you grabbed his arm and began storming to the hotel,

"Stupid mossball! Ask me again when you're sober!"

He never did.

Sometimes you missed it, how close you and Zoro used to be. Sure, you still had complete trust in one another, and always had each other's backs in battle, but it was as though you'd both spoken so much, that you no longer spoke. You'd still train, sometimes even nap in the others presence, but words had become rarer, instead communicating through looks more often than not, quick and brief. You were beginning to miss his voice.

"(Nameeeeeee).. hey. 'chu doin' all alone?"

Speaking of Zoro- he'd joined you on the rail of the Sunny. On the beach, the rest of the straw hats were celebrating with the locals, and said locals had given Zoro an alcohol like no other. Zoro, believing his tolerance was high enough to take it, decided to drink it during a drinking contest. For the first time in a long while, he was wasted. Again.

"Relaxing. It was quite the battle today." You responded, smiling at the swordsman. His swords rested at his side, and your two rested st your side.

"It was.. f'sure." Zoro agreed, leaning against the railing, "you handled yerself good out there." He placed a hand at the small of your back, smiling at you. "Saw the new technique.. should use it against me sometime."

You awkwardly moved away from his hand, laughing softly. "Yeah, sure, when you're sober." His smile fell ever so slightly, and you tilted your head in confusion. "Ya good there, Zoro?"

"No. I'm not."

He responded, and with little warning, he had you in his arms, practically squishing you against him in a fiercsome hug. "Ack! Zoro! Can't breathe!" You yelped, laughing breathily as you struggled to escape his wrath, deciding to worry about him after you could breathe again.

"....why ya talk ta Sanji s'much?"

Zoro growled, loosening his grip and grabbing you by your shoulders, suddenly pushing you away but still holding you, at arms length. "HAH? Fuck you mean?" "It means.. exactly what I'm askin'. You even ditched training the other day.. ta' talk to that damn cook. Why?" He sounded hurt, and you grew even more confused. "'Cause he's my friend? Plus, I've been taking some cooking lessons from him to help out." Zoro scowled, clenching his teeth and flat glaring at you. His grip was tightening to the point it hurt, and you tried not to wince, instead meeting his glare with one of your own. "What's your problem, Roronoa?! They put angry juice in your damn booze?" You placed emphasis on his last name, which only caused his grip to tighten more. You watched as he opened his mouth, then closed it again, struggling to find the right words to say.

"My problem is, is I wanna fuckin' marry ya, and seein ya with that damn cook pisses me off."

His voice was low, and he loosened his grip, instead opting to massage your shoulders. Yet again, you'd frozen, watching Zoro's glare turn into a pout as he dropped his head.

"I know I know.. ya dont feel the same.. but.. damn it, atleast choose someone better than him."

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You'd never seen Zoro look so defeated, watching him turn his head away. He hasn't given up, but he was about to. Your heart shattered in more ways than one. As his hands dropped from your shoulders, you knew one thing: it was now or never.. but what if these were just..

You reached out and grabbed his hand, staring at the ground. You couldn't look at him- not when he looked like a kicked puppy. "Zoro.."

"...yea?"

"Ask me again. When you're sober. I'll answer you."

Then, you jumped over the edge of the ship, landing on the beach, and ran to join the others, face beet red and guilt boiling deep in your gut.

He didn't. The next day you both went on as if nothing happened. However, after breakfast, Zoro vanished off the ship, alongside Nami. You'd decided to think nothing of it, however, part of you wished, so badly, that you'd just told him. But you had also decided that if Zoro couldn't tell you when he was sober, then it just wouldn't work.

I've loved him for years.. I thought he'd forgotten. God.. I wish I could turn back time, and accept him. I'm a fool.

"(Name)-chan? You're looking gloomy. That damn Marimo do something to you?! I swear I'll-"

Sanji had approached you, and you cut him off with a wave of your hand. "Its.. just a childhood subject came up. It's touchy." You responded, finally removing your gaze from the table to meet his gaze. Sanji sat across from you, "Wanna talk about it?"

"...not sure what good it'll do." You huffed, fidgeting with your hands. For a long moment, Sanji was silent. Which was odd, seeing as he was usually swooning over you, or whisking you away to teach you a new cooking technique.

"..things will work out between you two. Don't worry. He may be a lumbering fool, but he isn't a total idiot." Sanji said, a twinkle in his eyes. You glanced at him, "whatddya mean by that?" "I mean exactly what I said, darling."

You spent the rest of the day wondering what Sanji could've possibly meant. Working around the ship and making sure everything was ready to set sail in the morning, Chopper dancing around your feet as he helped and rambled about medical knowledge.

As time rolled around for dinner, you were moving to the kitchen with the others, laughing with Usopp at Luffy's antics, when all of a sudden,

"(NAME)! hol.. hold on." Zoro came running up behind you, with something held in his hands. Nami wasn't far behind, but she maneuvered around the two of you to stand with the others.

"Fuck.. never doin that again." He grumbled, dropping to one knee and staring up at you, chest heaving, as he pulled out a small box.

"..zoro?-"

"You.. you told me to ask again when I'm sober. So I am."

"Marry me."

He opened the box to reveal a beautiful black and gold ring. You froze, staring at it, and then at the swordsman, who was staring up at you, just as still as you.

He..

"...fuckin' hell Zoro. Yes, I'll marry you."

The grin that erupted on Zoro's face was beautiful as tears spilled from your eye, and your crewmates cheered behind you both as Zoro pulled you into his arms, slipping the ring on your finger.

"SUPPPPER! finally!" "Yohohohoho! I should play some music!" "Damn marimo.. You'd better take care of her!" Their congratulations fell on deaf ears as Zoro held you, burying his face into your shoulder. The growing wet feeling on your shoulder told you one thing: he was crying, too.

"..I love you. So much.. please, stay at my side for the rest of eternity." He whispered, voice raspy, and you melted into his hold,

"Always, and forever. I've always been yours, Zoro."

#one piece roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #straw hats x reader

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munson-blurbs · 4 months

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Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader

Summary: Max and Lucas are tired of their friends silently pining over each other but never making a move, so when the Winter Formal rolls around, they take matters into their own hands.

Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluffy fluff

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Happy anniversary to the love of my life, @corroded-hellfire 💚 one year ago today, we met in person for the first time, and my life has been infinitely better ever since. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you more than Dustin loves his Weird Al shirt. Red, this fic is for you.

Divider credit to @saradika

“Kill me now.”

Three words uttered by none other than Max Mayfield, sliding her lunch tray onto the table and sitting down with an irritated sigh.

You look at her with an amused grin. “What is it this time? Bombed a pop quiz? Got detention for flipping off a teacher—again?” Her brazen, flippant attitude provided many entertaining moments, so long as you weren’t on the receiving end of it.

Max shakes her head, spearing a limp macaroni noodle with her plastic fork. “I wish.” She holds up two tickets to the Winter Formal. “Lucas is dragging me to this bullshit. ‘All the other basketball guys’ girlfriends are going,’” she mocks him in an octave much lower than his actual voice, “so I guess that means I have to follow suit.”

Bringing a hand to your heart, you jut out your lower lip in mock-pity. “Oh, no; your boyfriend wants to show you off at a school dance! How will you ever survive?”

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “You could go, too,” she says, blue eyes pleading. “Keep me company when the guys inevitably bail to get wasted in the woods.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t need a date,” she insists, reading your mind before the words can leave your mouth. “I’m telling you, Lucas is gonna ditch me as soon as Jason and Patrick show up.” She takes your hand between both of hers. “Please? I’ll even tell Ms. Kelly the lengths you went to for your poor, troubled freshie.”

You exhale, knowing that she doesn’t need to go to all of that trouble. You’d started off the school year as her peer mentor, but just a few months later, you two have become close friends. “Fine, I’ll go,” you acquiesce, laughing when she pumps her fists victoriously. “But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

You return to your own lunch, completely missing the mischievous look that graces her freckled face.

Unbeknownst to you, a similar discussion is had at Hellfire Club later that same afternoon.

“Absolutely not,” Eddie scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Nice try, Sinclair, but I wouldn’t be caught dead at some lame dance.”

“Seriously,” Jeff smirks from his position across the table. “He’s never been to a single one in his ten years of high school.”

Eddie flips him off casually. “It’s only six, asshole. But that doesn’t matter, because I’m not dressing up in some penguin suit to drink unspiked punch with a bunch of shitty people.”

“C’mon, dude,” Lucas says, his tone bordering on a whine. “If you don’t go, I’m gonna be stuck with the jocks all night, and they just wanna suck face with their girlfriends.”

“And you don’t?” Gareth quips.

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Not in front of everyone. And I don’t need a front-row seat to their performances, either.” He turns his attention back to the Dungeon Master. “Look, I’m desperate. Mike’ll be visiting his grandma and Dustin’s grounded because of his D-plus in Spanish.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “What about Huey, Dewey, and Louie over here?” he asks, gesturing to the three remaining club members.

Their collective responses are jumbled excuses; Eddie swears one of them says he’s going kayaking—in mid-December in Indiana—but he doesn’t bother to sift through their lies. “You owe me, Sinclair,” he declares, pointing his forefinger at the underclassman. “Big time.”

The next few weeks leading up to the Winter Formal are spent meticulously making plans. For someone who seemed so disinterested in this dance, Max is paying careful attention to each detail.

You walk out of the dressing room in a velvet emerald green dress that hits just above the knee. Max is beaming as she adjusts the off-the-shoulder sleeves and smooths down any creases.

“You look really nice,” she says, nodding her head. She’s trying to temper her enthusiasm, but you can sense her excitement. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Lucas? Why would he care?” He’s a nice kid—more in tune with emotions than the average fourteen-year-old boy—but that doesn’t constitute an interest in your fashion choices.

Max’s cheeks burn as red as her hair. “Uh, well, seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing me happy makes him happy, so…everyone’s happy?” she finishes lamely. She clears her throat as if expelling the awkwardness from the conversation. “Anyway, let’s buy this dress so we can look for shoes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You’re not fully convinced, but you brush it off and steel your nerves to ask a question. “Is anyone else gonna be there that we know?” You really want to know whether Eddie Munson is going to be there, but you can’t say the quiet part aloud.

“Probably,” she shrugs, a bit too quickly, but she’s pushing you back behind the curtain to change before you can inquire more.

“Why does this stupid tie need to be green?” Eddie asks, sifting through the store’s selection with Lucas by his side.

“Uh, Christmas colors,” Lucas stammers, fumbling for a decent explanation other than the contents of his secret phone call with Max earlier today. “And, y’know, red is way overdone, so…” he trails off lamely, going back to the display table and hoping Eddie drops the matter.

They find exactly what they’re looking for—not without Eddie complaining about putting in too much effort just to be a third wheel—and make their way over to the food court. Eddie makes a beeline for the Pizza Hut when he stops dead in his tracks. “Shit, Sinclair; we gotta go,” he says urgently, clapping a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder and steering him away from the fast food.

“What the hell? I’m hungry!”

Eddie shakes his head, curls brushing against his shoulders. “Look, man.” He discreetly points to his left, where you and Max are giggling at the Orange Julius. “We can’t let them see us.”

“Dude, she’s like the nicest person ever,” Lucas rebuts. “Even Max likes her, and Max pretty much hates everyone.”

“That’s not the problem.” Eddie rakes his ringed fingers through his hair, wincing when he snags one on a knot. “The problem is that she’s gonna be all, ‘hi, Eddie; what’re you doing at the mall?’ And I’m gonna be all, ‘just picking out a tie for the Winter Formal.” And then she’ll go, ‘oh, who’s your date?” And then I’ll have to say, ‘I don’t have one; I’m just playing babysitter to some freshmen like a goddamn loser!” He hops back and forth to indicate each character change.

“First of all, ouch,” Lucas quips, “second, go hide in the bathroom if you want, but I’m getting something to eat.”

Eddie exhales an exasperated sigh, giving in and schlepping over to Pizza Hut, one of the few times in his life that he’s trying to be inconspicuous.

You pull into the school parking lot on the night of the Winter Formal and shift into park before killing the engine. Max is bouncing her leg up and down in the passenger seat, lower lip tucked between her teeth.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask, mistaking her excitement for anxiety. “You know that Lucas would think you look beautiful even if you showed up in a potato sack.” You furrow your brow. “Where is he, anyway? Why didn’t he come with us?”

She mumbles something about not wanting her mom to ask any questions about the relationship, and you take them at face value. Her eyes light up when she spots her boyfriend walking into the school alongside…Eddie Munson?

“Eddie’s here?” you ask in a hushed whisper, feeling sweat prickling under your arms. You’ve been nursing a massive crush on him for ages–one that Max is very much aware of. And now he’s here, dressed in a black suit with his hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. “Max, why didn’t you tell me? Who’s he going with?” The idea of him slow dancing with someone else has your stomach turning.

Max just shrugs. “I don’t think he had a date.” Too casual, too blasé–she knows something. “C’mon, let’s go in.” She swings the car door open enthusiastically, leaving you shell-shocked in your seat.

“Maxine Mayfield!” you hiss, using her full government name to drive home your bewilderment, but she just skips ahead. Damn your heeled shoes, slowing you down before you can catch up to her. When you finally do, she just grabs your hand and tugs you towards the guys.

She poorly feigns surprise, jaw dropping as she exclaims, “Eddie? What are you doing here? Oh, my gosh, this is such a coincidence!” She pulls you closer, smiling far too wide. “Lucas and I both brought our upperclassmen friends! What are the odds?”

“Yeah, so weird,” Lucas says, not as loud as Max but just as transparent. He looks at Max before regarding you and Eddie. “Okay, well, we’re gonna go dance–bye!” The two of them scamper off, leaving you alone with Eddie. If their stilted dialogue wasn’t evidence enough, the way Eddie’s tie perfectly matches your dress certainly clears up their intentions.

Eddie speaks first, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and nervously swiveling his body. “I, uh, think we’ve been set up,” he says with a small, awkward chuckle. “I swear, it wasn’t my idea. Not–not that it’s a bad thing, I just meant, like, if you’re uncomfortable with this, I don’t wanna be held responsible.” His cheeks burn red. “Shit, I need to stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with your own kind laugh, “we might as well make the most of it. Get some punch and make fools of ourselves out there?” You gesture towards the gym’s makeshift dance floor; the band has just started playing Journey’s “Faithfully.” Eddie’s nods, following you to an empty space, and you timidly drape your arms over his shoulders. Taking care to avoid an inappropriate touch, he rests his palms on the small of your back.

His voice is low when he murmurs in your ear, “you look really beautiful tonight.” He clears his throat and speaks again. “You always look really beautiful, though.”

The two of you sway to the music, swapping shy smiles and fleeting but longing glances. As the song ends, you look over your shoulder. “We’re being spied on,” you report, noting the way the two younger kids are watching you from across the room. You consider your next words before eventually deciding to go for it: “Did you talk to Lucas about me as much as I talked to Max about you?”

“Probably more,” Eddie laughs, bringing you a bit closer. “But I’m interested in comparing notes.”

You nod, staving off any lingering nerves. “Maybe after the dance, we can split a burger from Benny’s and discuss?”

Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Yeah,” he says; you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I’d like that.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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churipu · 4 months

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hiii !!

this is my first time requesting smth so sorry if I’m not making sense !! 😭

can u do jjk boys / men with short reader ?? can u also include megumi ?

thank you !

SHORTIE — JJK MEN + SHORT PARTNER

featuring. megumi fushiguro, toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

warnings. none

note. hii jelly!! don't worry love you're doing great, and thank you for requesting! sorry it took so long :( i hope you like this. also, guys, omg you don't know how thankful i am to reach 500+ followers in a short amount of time, i'm going to sob. i love you all so much <;33

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. i feel like he doesn't mind at all, he did say his type was someone with an unshakable character — so he could obviously care less about your height. in fact, he'd be pretty much delighted, he finds you adorable (but let's face it, he'd never tell that to your face).

it sounds cliche but megumi would be the one to help you get things from higher places, and when he can't reach them either — he'd carry you up his shoulders to let you grab it. if there's one other thing that he loves besides your personality, it's your height.

so when anyone tries to bring you down with that, megumi would definitely be up to defend you; saying there's no problem with your height and how much he likes that about you.

"what're you talking about? they look just fine." megumi mutters out, scratching the back of his head, his eyes averting to the side.

"so what if they're short? why does that matter?"

"'t doesn't matter what you think, i like them, so what?"

just, he's always going to defend you about your height so the next second you feel conscious about it — he's going to ask you if anyone said anything, and if you said yes (he'll make sure to find out who it is behind your back), and if you said no (he'll tell you how much he loves you, your height, and everything about you).

TOJI FUSHIGURO. big tease, will definitely make fun of your for it, he calls you "shortie", it's just his default nickname for you. the first time het met you, he's just decided that he'd go with the name "shortie" instead of "y/n".

he's going to ask you to grab something for him, and when you realized it's something out of reach, it's just his act to make fun of you, "hey shortie, grab my favorite mug for me."

and when you opened the mug cabinet, his mug is just sitting on the very top — you looked at him with a defeated smile and let out a laugh. he would always end up taking it for himself, patting your head on the way with a satisfied laughter.

though sometimes, you feel a little self-conscious when he makes fun of your for your height, and toji would caught up to it almost immediately.

"what's up, shortie? why'd you look so sad, hm?"

"am i really that short?" he cocked his eyebrow and hummed out, signaling that it's a yes indeed. but he scoffs after.

"so what?" he mutters out, laying his hand on top of your head before walking away, don't worry it's just his way of telling you he loves you. you'd feel so much better after that.

that's why he kept calling you shortie, no matter how self-conscious you get, he ends up encouraging you about it. so he never bothered stopping (and he never thought of stopping the nickname).

GOJO SATORU. like toji, i feel like gojo is a big tease as well. he absolutely loves your height, he's a tall man, and having such a short partner is a fun thing to him. he loves making fun of you (in a cute way) — and so you didn't mind it at all, since you know that gojo didn't mean it literally.

"oh, i didn't see you there! you're so small i could just step on you." he marvels out with a toothy grin before scooping you into his embrace.

with that being said, gojo absolutely loves carrying you on top of his shoulders, and when he has the chance to, he won't waste the chance to ask you how it feels like to be so much taller. you always comply with his jokes as well so he loves teasing you a lot, cause you give out reactions to him.

"how does it feel to be tall?" he asks you, hand gripping on your hips, holding you in place so you wouldn't fall.

"not bad, definitely could feel the heat up here, must suck being so close to the sun," you replied back, patting his head gently and gojo chuckles, letting you down.

being short isn't so bad when you have a giant to protect you from the heat, he's like your personal umbrella. so, you weren't going to complain about it at all.

also, gojo wouldn't let you talk bad about your height. he's your number one fan, don't tell me otherwise.

NANAMI KENTO. he absolutely adores you. he loves how his shirt looks big on you, he loves how small you look next to him, he loves how you always use him as a shield for anything, he just loves you.

most of the time, you'd feel a little bad about your height — but nanami would tell you how it doesn't matter and how much he loves you. he has his ways of showing his love to you and your height. nanami would sometimes use you as a place to rest his arm, at first you thought he was making fun of you, but he wasn't and i guess it's now just a normal thing for the both of you.

nanami loves tucking your head under his chin when you're both relaxing, watching a movie, cooking, anything — he just loves pulling you close and laying his chin on top of your head. he tells you it feels comfortable, and so that has also been a normal thing for the both of you.

having a small height means teeny tiny body parts. your hands, especially; he's in love with how small they are compared to his. how your hand always tugs on his shirt when you're out, he's hand would engulf yours completely, and he makes sure you're well taken care of when you both go out (it would be hard if you'd get lost in the crowd).

one thing he adores is a habit that you always do when he's busy. of course you wanted attention, and when you wanted his attention — he'd find you tugging at his shirt, his suit, his hand with your own while muttering out a, "boyfriend, boyfriend".

he's just so in love with you and everything about you, and with that, you've slowly come to love your own height. thanks to him.

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gorejo · 7 months

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▸ I'LL MEET YOU FOREVER IN THIS MEMORY. - GOJO SATORU. forbes30!gojo

synopsis: he'll argue it's fate — a divine moment — that he's always in your proximity, and you call it bullshit. he says his class was in the same building, panting with a sweat pebbling on his forehead, yet you've seen him run across campus just couple minutes prior as he awkwardly stood in front of you. he's a man on a mission, determined to succeed. to have you finally fall for him.

content: wc: 6.6 k (sigh), fluff, light cursing, uses of she/her to align with the original au but the fic can be read without it. reader lovingly calls him stupid for one part and is shorter than him because the man is canonically tall af. petnames (babe, sweetheart, angel). slight nsfw towards the end, Gojo calls himself daddy in one scene just for jokes. college forbes30!gojo !!

There was nothing but the sound of chalk hitting the board, the frustrated sighs of students trying to keep up, and the monotonous tone of Takashi sensei talking that filled the lecture hall.

Students hastily typed on their electronics, while others chose to go old-fashioned with simple pen and paper.

But for Gojo Satoru, none of that mattered, really.

11:47.

Impatiently shaking his legs, his body just barely fitting in the cramped seat, uncaring if the attendant in front of him sent multiple glares for his crude manner of bumping his knees against the back — why the hell were these spaces always so damn cramped?

Satoru released another long sigh as he clicked open his phone to check the time, again.

Infuriatingly, it was still fucking 11:47.

It'll take me about six minutes to get to the quad, and another five to make it to the east building...

“Dammit,” Satoru cursed, his supposed whisper radiating a bit too loudly throughout the silent hall as he slumped further into his seat groaning as his impatience imbued his mind with thoughts.

One more minute and it’ll be just enough time to make it over —

“Gojo-kun,” releasing an annoyed sigh, “would you mind sharing with the class what could’ve gotten you so possibly worked up today?” his professor questioned without even turning his back to look at who just so rudely interrupted his class — again.

What excuse should I make today? Maybe I can leave now and act as if —

“Gojo-kun?” The professor's voice laced with irritation as he put the chalk down, the click of the powder hitting the rail echoed throughout the auditorium — no one dared to speak a word — not especially when the semester was so close to ending.

“Can you answer this question because you seem to be awfully more interested in something else rather than studying for your exam tomorrow?”

maybe I can ask her to study for finals? Oh, that’s good… I can show how studious and dependable I am, and then maybe she’ll fall for me. Goddamn call me a genius! But wait — fuck, I can’t use that because —

“Satoru, uh… sensei's coming,” Gojo felt a nudge on his side, his colleague nervously squirming in his seat, whispering to get his attention but yet it went unacknowledged — far over Satoru’s head — surely, the man currently had other priorities than to be rotting in business calculus.

Business calculus… the bane of his existence, his utter torture of attending every session, a complete fifty minutes wasted three times a week just for him to sit there and ponder about something else — most of the time, it was him getting antsy to get to you.

It was much to everyone’s surprise that he even went to all his lectures — the one student no one ever expects to have perfect attendance for a class he gives two shits about — well, he does give a shit because it’s all for his plan.

….

“So tell me why you’re trying to take this class?” His best friend glanced over Satoru’s shoulder.

“Don’t bother me, I can’t multi-task,” Gojo murmured, ignoring his raven hair friend as he lightly bit his lips, furiously typing up his course number into the system, his back hunched as he anxiously stared at his loading computer screen, “never thought getting a class would be so stressful," Satoru groaned.

“Why are you so stressed, it’s unlike you,” Geto’s voice was serene, “and what other dumb shit are you up to?” he chuckled while taking a sip of his coffee.

“It’s not dumb,” Satoru shot back.

“You tested out of calculus, Satoru.”

“So what?” he grumbled — just a couple seconds more…

Geto didn’t quite understand why Gojo had to go to such lengths, completely acting out of his character as he pitifully waited for his screen to load.

He’d never seen his friend so riled up about something so simple. The last time Satoru got like this was a couple of years back when a small pastry shop he searched online closed an hour before they got there. His defeat and whines were understandable since the trip took three hours by train.

But this… yea, Suguru couldn’t quite put a finger on it… well not until a very minor dialogue he had with a certain someone, such small talk that even he forgot that it occurred a semester prior.

“Are you by chance doing this because —”

Cutting him off, “fuck…” was all Suguru heard as his best friend rested his forehead on his arm, body slumping from the adrenal fatigue.

In bold, a message read:

Congrats! You have successfully registered for all your classes

Perhaps, it wouldn't hurt to learn a bit more about limits and infinities, Satoru thought before taking a nap in the library.

….

Or I can ask if she can help me study. because she’s good at that, right? she’s always at the library, always ignoring my texts because of her goddamn exams…

Gojo pondered, crossing his arms with his index and thumb rubbing against his chin, his cheeks squeezed while furrowing his brows.

but fuck, that means I won’t be able to talk to her because last time — I mean, it’s been a month since then, maybe it’ll be different now, I figure we got closer. she's smiling a bit more and we’ve gone on a couple of dates… I suppose —

…

“Psst,” Gojo harshly whispered from across the table, “psst!”

Glaring at him over your laptop, eyes sparkling and round, face needy for attention, “what do you want?” You spat out.

“Just wondering,” Gojo chirped, his ears perked in your direction with his elbows resting on the table, body leaning towards your direction, “Have you fallen for me yet?”

“No, you’re not my type.” you retorted emotionless.

“What’s your type then?” Gojo countered, unfazed, smiling as he challenged your words.

“Someone, not Gojo Satoru.”

“Well, aren’t you spicy?” He stretched out his legs while leaning back on his chair, boyishly smiling with his arms thrown behind his neck, the lean physique of his body outlined in this position — he looked hot, no doubt about that, and… he knew that.

“but i’m just going to tell you now,” cocking his head to the side, licking his soft lips that shined a pretty pink, confidently proclaiming,

“there will come a day when your words will bite you in the ass.”

“Did your parents ever teach you about having some class —“

“Can you guys lower it down, or move someplace else?” a student hushed, stating through gritted teeth as he witnessed the tortuous and unforgivable sight of you both, love, bantering in the library of all places.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, apologetically smiling at them before facing forward to meet your stalker — you swore he was stalking you because there was no way he and you could have this many “random” encounters, that would work out so perfectly with him just magically appearing wherever you go — it's bullshit you thought, especially when his acting skills weren’t necessarily that great…

“Hey babe,” Gojo cheekily whispered,

“I’m not your babe,” you hissed back.

“Ooo, so you like the sweet pet names huh? Noted,” he nodded, the curve of his lips turned upward, humming a tune while he typed something on his phone.

you couldn’t tell what annoyed you more, his devilishly handsome smile, or the fact that your heart was beating in unrhythmic patterns the more you talked with him.

A facade maybe, but you’ve come to undeniably enjoy his rambunctious company despite him getting on your nerves.

“Then, sweetheart, do you wanna —“

“No.” you numbly stated while typing away at your report.

“But I didn’t even get to —“

“Still, no.”

“Fine…” for a moment Satoru slumped into his chair, before quickly asking again, “how about —”

“No.”

Smiling as he rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward as he pushes down your laptop, his long, pretty fingers lightly tapping the case, “Do you hate Gojo Satoru?” His words slyly spewed out of his lips, anticipating your shy face when he catches you slipping for saying ‘no’ without much thought.

“Yes.”

“Boo,” Satoru pouted while retreating to his side, slumping his back to rest his cheeks on his textbook as he closed his eyes.

With your screen down it was easier to take notice of his features. Not that you were blatantly indifferent about his looks — everyone knew Gojo Satoru was handsome — but you rarely got to see him for who he was underneath all the layers of superficial worth people praised him for.

There was a lot on his shoulders from the brief mentions about his family and childhood that you could sense. It was easy to tell that behind all the crazy and loud was a little boy hiding his loneliness and pain under a mask and careless demeanor.

You noticed his lips were mildly protruding out, his brows slightly furrowed and his white hair gently frayed down on his forehead with his lashes long and occasionally fluttering. His skin was unblemished and his jaw was sharp yet his face still held the youth of his age.

He’ll soon prepare to work for his family business, learning about the intricacies of the business and possibly becoming one of those cutthroat bosses you’ve seen in the dramas.

He’ll probably grow a bit more — he’s been working out a lot Gojo would say, proven by the multiple thirst traps he’ll post. His arms were getting a lot more defined, and his abs… oh, you didn’t mean to take a peak. But guess you did have a front-row seat to his almost topless torso when he mindlessly pulled up his shirt while he took off his sweatshirt.

can't say you disliked the view.

You remember feeling warm that day — stomach fluttering with something, while your back felt gently embraced with his scent and clothing.

“You checking me out?” Gojo muttered without taking a glance at you, pulling you back into reality.

“N-no!” you quickly looked away, opening up your laptop as you grimaced at the harsh stares you got from those around you for the noise, “j-just wondering if you were going to study or not?” you murmured, hiding your face behind your laptop and your cheeks starting to feel hot.

“For someone so smart you ask dumb questions,” Gojo chuckled as he stretched out his legs, his feet purposefully tapping against yours, “what does it look like I’m doing, sweetheart?” he quietly mumbled before his voice started to fade out, “you know,” silently yawning as his body curled inward — all 6’3’’ of him on the small desk that barely housed his long legs — the tapping of his foot now softly, soothingly, rubbing against yours, “you gotta work smarter, not hard…er…”

You weren’t sure if the man before you was a complete idiot or a genius. but for unknown reasons, this guy surprisingly scores the top grade in his classes when his only method of “studying” is sleeping with his head on top of his textbook — surely, the world isn’t fair.

Despite the little snore you heard in front of you, with the light grunts he made from the uncomfortable position, you couldn’t help but fondly look at the guy in front of you.

Smiling — yea, you’ve been doing that a lot these days.

You decided — maybe, opening up wouldn’t be so bad…

For you, you remembered it was the first time you felt odd in the stomach. A bit like butterflies as you watched him doze off to sleep, trying your absolute best to restrain your hands from moving a piece of hair that covered his face as he slightly drooled while you studied. You’ve been catching yourself stalling time to meet him where he supposedly just ran into you — he was nice and the epitome of warmth, and you liked that in your dull world.

But for Satoru, it was another failed attempt to get closer to you.

He remembered waking up in an empty library — alone. he swore he rested his head for no more than thirty minutes, but how the hell was the time three hours past that?

Stretching as he released a low groan, his gaze foggy as he squinted his eyes to look for you, only to frown when he realized you were nowhere to be seen.

“dammit” Satoru grumbled while quickly packing his bags, “I wanted to buy dinner —”

A neon post it leafed its way down to the table, planting face down as Gojo slowly blinked in confusion while touching his forehead.

Picking up the piece of paper, it read:

Hey loser, you were mumbling about some food while you slept, so I got you dinner and placed it next to your backpack. go home and eat ( :

p.s. also, stop bothering me, weirdo.

p.p.s. you know you drool while sleeping?

Dumbfoundedly wiping his lips with the back of his hand, Gojo wasn’t sure if he was blushing from embarrassment or the fact that you were the first girl to buy him dinner — well, it wasn’t in the typical romantic sense… but who the fuck cares, it’s the fact that you bought him dinner; therefore, a step a closer to his goal. So he wins.

Carefully folding the note and placing it into the safeguard of his wallet, Gojo quickly strapped on his bag as he gently held onto his dinner, cradling it like a prized possession, mentally noting what to use for his excuse tomorrow while he made his way down the stairs to the exit.

The air felt oddly cold for the summer. the slight breeze brushed against his face, the ends of his hair tickling his cheeks as he breathed in the damp air.

Everything felt good — right almost despite his lost chances of getting dinner with you. Perhaps he can save that for another day.

“Just you wait,” beaming up at the moon lighting up the campus, his blue eyes sparkling as Gojo declared, “you will be mine.”

…

“ — Gojo-kun,” his professor called out. His impatience ran thin as he tapped his foot against the floor, “if you don’t answer, I will fail you —”

“Sensei, the limit just simply doesn’t exist — it’s limitless.” Satoru nonchalantly responded, cooly peaking at his watch now — maybe the time would read faster with that — but the second hand still stayed the same, seconds excruciatingly feeling long.

“No matter how difficult you propose this function, if the derivative doesn’t exist, nor will its limit.” Gojo continued to calmly iterated his reasoning.

“But doesn’t this point here,” pointing at the board, the chalk panging against the surface, “exist?” his professor challenged, “it’s a point on the graph.”

“Well, no matter how far you stretch this graph within the axes, going as far as trying to touch the asymptotes, it will never. because the limit will always be limitless since the function at those points won’t exist. So, no, that point isn’t on the graph.”

“And what about here?,” pointing to the chalkboard,“what is your answer, Gojo-kun?”

“Assuming you only have one x to one y, then the answer is simple. By definition, the limit will exist if the points on both sides of that graph approach the same point. To find that point, well that depends on the graph given. And looking at this graph, no. there are two points that are open.”

It should be about damn time.

Gojo felt his blood rushing through his body, heart anxiously pumping with each heavy thud drumming to his ears, the only sound audible that his brain could decipher instead of the pointless questions his professor was asking — why was he making it so goddamn difficult.

His urgency spiked up as adrenaline pumped through his body, anxiously shaking his leg, Gojo clicked his phone open again, his large hand covering the device as he peeped down.

11:48 — shit.

“Well, what about when —”

“Shit, I'm late,” Gojo cursed, frantically packing up his bag and zipping it up.

“Excuse me?” His professor frowned, obviously taken aback by his student’s daring use of profanity in his lecture.

But paying no mind, Gojo quickly stood up and paved his way out, harshly whispering past with a light smile as he hugged onto his bag, “Psst, sorry, going through!” doing his best to swiftly move through the cramped isles while his giant, uncaring if his lanky build caused a nuisance in the middle of the lecture, unbothered if his professor was done talking to him or not,

“Gojo-kun?” His professor was flabbergasted at his student’s rude ignorance.

“excuse me, sorry!” Satoru cheekily exclaimed while finally making his way out.

“I haven’t dismissed —”

“Sensei sorry!” Gojo exclaimed while opening the lecture door, ready to sprint out, “I promise, I’ll pass your exam tomorrow!” he blurted, voice fading off into the distance and Gojo now nowhere to be seen.

“... at least don’t sit in the middle if you’re always going to barge out like that,” his professor murmured to himself, massaging the bridge of his nose as he sighed.

Yet the only response he got was silence, the awkward creaking of the door closing, and the clock striking the end of his lecture.

“Fuck,” he panted while brushing his fingers through his hair, a little damp from his sweat, his chest huffing from the sprint across campus as he looked at his watch, brows furrowed as his eyes searched everywhere for a glimpse of you.

“Not there,” he mumbled, gazing to his side, “no, not here,” frustratingly turning around as he scanned the area just in case you slipped out the back door, his eyes loosely looking past a couple of figures, “damn it, not here too.”

“What’s not here?” he heard a soft voice from behind him.

“Just looking for someone,” without processing, Satoru blurted out, “uhm… sorry just talking to myself —” Gojo mumbled as he slowly turned around, impatient that someone was taking away his precious time to find you.

Call him a dreamer but he was still hopeful that you possibly didn’t just leave — I mean how could you, when he made it a point to always see you after class, you couldn’t be that clueless.

“You’re late,” you stated, trying to stifle your laugh, his busy eyes quickly changed to ones of nervousness as he registered who was exactly in front of him. His clear, azul eyes were imbued in sheer panic as his expression dwindled to eventual ease as a droplet of sweat ran down from his temple.

“Oh god, uhm,” scratching his head as he awkwardly looked off to the side, whispering under his breath, “I- I ended class a little late, but great to see you again,” he tried composing himself while smiling — the one that made his lips twitch from nervousness.

“I see,” you hummed, “you seem out of breath, Gojo,” you teased, remembering just how frantic he looked minutes prior while running over.

You ended class a bit earlier, wondering if he’d be waiting outside like he normally did, pacing back and forth to make it seem like he simply ran into you — how utterly stupid was he?

But it was you that would giggle, feeling the type of happiness that made your heart full and cheeks hurting — guess you were the stupid one for falling for such an act.

So you decided to wait today, standing off in the corner to witness how he would stage his act — you just didn’t expect him to be in such a panic rush trying to get here.

“Yea, y-you know those stairs, it gets me all the time,” Gojo stiffly laughed as he fisted his hand behind his back, trying to steady his breath and nose from embarrassingly flaring.

“Satoru,” giggling as you peeped up, noticing just how much taller he was compared to you while his hands nervously twitched and cheeks rosy despite his firm stance that his class was only but a few steps away from yours, you couldn’t help but smile at his innocence, “there are no stairs in this building.”

“Satoru, huh… that’s a change… sounds so nice rolling off your tongue,” he pondered while staring at your lips. It was cute and just perfect as you said every letter, every syllable of his name —

“Earth to Gojo Sa-to-ru,” waving your hands, tip-toeing to get his attention.

“Ah, right…. Sorry,” he mumbled, shyly looking away only to take a quick glance at you looking up at him.

“So…” cocking your head to the side, eyes doe-like while looking up through your lashes, “ what’s the plan for today? You softly chirped.

“uhm,” eyes widen, shocked at your response, “what?” his voice was unexpectedly sharp.

“I asked what are we doing today….” Rolling on your heels, “I-isn’t that why you’re here?” you nervously asked.

“Just like that?” Gojo glanced at you, eyes full of suspicion.

“What do you mean?” you questioned, lips starting to form a pout as you awaited his answer.

“Sorry,” he sighed, stretching his legs out to match his height with yours, “didn’t mean to sound harsh,” he apologetically whispered while gazing into your eyes.

“It’s just that you always reject me… I - I mean,” holding his hands up, shaking in defense to not offend you, “don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it,” furrowing his brows as he shook his head, “no, no, let’s retract back. I’m thrilled that you’re asking me. It's just that…” his voice slowly fading as if embarrassment finally caught up to his head.

“It's just what?” you softly mumbled.

“Well,” sighing, “I had all these excuses planned out just in case you said no,” he confessed as he pulled his phone from his pocket, “It’s all in my notes app.”

“Notes app huh?” your lips twitched from trying to contain your laugh.

“So what was the excuse for today? or… ” you teased, gently hitting your elbow against his arm, “should I say no, so your efforts don’t go to waste?”

“Thought we could go for coffee after I uncoincidentally bumped into you after your class,” Satoru shrugged.

“Coffee sounds nice,” you hummed, “you’re buying?”

“Here gimme,” he softly encouraged, quickly taking your bag and swinging it over his shoulder, “I mean, I do owe you one for bumping into you that one day.”

“Ah, so you do admit, that was your fault,” you jokingly glared, “the headache you put me through because of your stupid five hundred dollar shirt,” you grumbled.

“Well technically it was a bit more,” he grinned, “but not really, I believe in fate,” he winked, “it was a divine moment.”

“You’re ridiculous,” rolling your eyes, “but I need to study.”

“I have an excuse for that too.”

“And what could that be?”

“I got an exam tomorrow, so you can watch me be handsomely studious,” Satoru smiled.

“For what class?” stunned to hear Gojo Satoru and studying be spoken in a sentence together.

“Business calc,” he frowned.

“Oh my god! Who’s your professor?” you beamed.

“The one and only Takashi sensei,” Satoru chuckled, softly patting your head as he couldn’t resist your cute enthusiasm.

“What?” your voice suspicious, yet you had no resolve to remove it — it felt nice, his hands were big… you realized.

“Nothing,” biting his lip to contain his laugh,” it’s just… that’s the most you’ve shown interest in me.”

“Whatever…” you huffed to flush out the embarassment, “I have him next semester —”

“I know,” he softly responded, his words going unnoticed.

“— and I’m worried because math isn’t really my forte,” you honestly confessed.

“That’s why you have me!” he stood with his chest tall, his thumb pointing at himself, “I’ll be your dependable, hot tutor that you fall in love with.”

“You’re ridiculous…”

Winking, “I don’t charge pretty girls like you —”

“So you’re telling me, you tutored other girls by being their hot and dependable tutor?” you raised a brow, standing to one side as you crossed your arms.

“What? N-no, that’s not it!”

“mhm, yea… playboy,” shaking your head,” so why are you taking business calculus? Thought you tested out of it, no?”

“Well… a man has his reasons,” he cheekily stated.

“And how does that help me to study?” raising one brow as you questioned his logic, “ I thought your method of studying was sleeping on your textbook.”

“Okay wow, I was not prepared for that. You’re making it difficult for me again, but you know what?” pulling his sleeves up as he stood tall in front of you, “I’m prepared for your rejections. And in answer to that, then we can study together.”

“But you talk too much, and snore when you fall asleep.”

“Not true,” Satoru murmured, “Suguru said I was generally a peaceful and quiet sleeper.”

“Explain generally,” you eyed him suspiciously, “and I didn’t know you both were like that,” giggling, your heart slowly expanding in adoration the more you talked with him, “... sleeping together and such.”

“We just had one too many nights where we would pass out a little drunk after a party,” scratching the back of his head, “and m-my body runs a little hot… so…”

“So…?”

“So, Shoko may or may not have some photos of us,” Gojo’s face started to contort in disgust, “cuddling…”

“But aside from that,” he tried defending himself, “I’m very great to sleep with!”

“Sure…” you gave him a teasing glance, “I’ll ask Geto the next time I see him about that.”

“Hey…” suddenly stepping closer to you, his voice serious yet soft. He was careful to not overstep any boundaries you might have placed, slowly reaching down to grasp hold of your fingers,

“just give me a chance yea? I’ll be good, I- I won’t snore, I won't drool, and I’ll only talk when I need to, hmm?” he reassured

You can almost feel the sore desperation in his voice as you feel the feathery grazes of his fingers against yours; his breath held as he anxiously awaited your answer.

“Okay,” you softly mumbled.

“Great,” releasing his breath, “you won’t regret it, I promise,” Gojo whispered while smiling.

“Hey Satoru,” you lightly called out, his name perfectly rolling off your tongue — so delicate, so pretty.

“Mhm,” he invited you to continue.

“Did you run here?” You questioned, playing with your foot as you rolled a rock on your shoe, “you’re normally not so out of breath.”

“Pssh, no,” he awkwardly laughed, “I told you my class is in this building as well —“

“Stupid, come here,” you murmured, pulling him slightly down, taking a piece of your sleeve as you tiptoed to reach his face. Gently dabbing the small droplets of sweat under his soft white bangs, “next time don’t run. And finish your class, Sensei’s going to hate you,” you softly told him.

“I- I told you,” blushing because your face was way too close — dangerous even — examining your features, ‘pretty’ he thought as he watched you concentrate on him,

“I just happened to have class —“

“I’ll be waiting next time, so take your time coming,” you smiled, looking into his eyes before quickly flattening your feet, “it’s quite far to come here from across campus, no?”

Satoru just gives in, like the hundred different times where he willingly lost to you, “Not as hard as scoring a date with you,” he smiled while spreading his feet out to make it easier for you to continue.

“It’s not a date,” you mumbled, your cheeks feeling hot as his soft eyes gazed at you, his two hands lightly placed on your hips to draw you closer.

“It is so definitely a date,” Satoru professed, “and I can just tell,” his voice feathery and light, “that we’ll have many more.”

10 years later —

The light scratching on his pen against the document loomed in his office. Ijichi, his most trusted secretary anxiously waited for his boss to finish signing his papers, watching guard just in case he didn’t go running off before finishing all his duties — again.

“You don’t need to stand there hovering,” Gojo nonchalantly stated, his wrist gently peeking through his cuffs, his watch shining with every stroke of his name.

“Well, these reports are important that you have them signed by today,” Ijichi nervously answered.

“Do you have it ready?” Gojo responded without removing his gaze from the file he was reading just before signing.

“I-I do, the flower shop did say it was difficult to find the specific color, but they made it work. I’ll bring it over when you’re done… and reservations have been made, sir.”

“Perfect, because…” his voice calm and emotionless, his hair once perfectly set in the morning, now just a little frazzled from his busy day, his tie now loose from his stress, “this should be the last one I do,” Satoru smiled while giving his secretary the folder.

“Sir, uhm you still have —”

“I’ll do them tomorrow,” Gojo stood up, reaching over to grab his coat, quickly throwing it over his broad shoulder.

“B-but!” Ijichi was frantic, his eyes shaking at the visible stack of papers Satoru had yet to sign — and oh, god, he didn’t even get to read over the file for tomorrow’s presentation.

“Satoru-sachou, the Chairman will be there for tomorrow—“

“And the flowers are beautiful, she’ll love them, thank you,” Gojo warmly smiled while taking a whiff of its scent, walking past the frazzled man to a mirror to quickly freshen up his white hair and clothes, reapply your favorite cologne and spray some mint into his mouth.

“Satoru-sach —”

“Relax, when have I ever worried you?”

'always,' Ijichi thought.

Nonchalant and unbothered as he fixed his tie, “It’ll be fine, I’ll be fine, and you’ll be fine,” Satoru stated as he took one look at the mirror, his sharp cerulean eyes looking at his secretary, “go take the night off, you look exhausted.”

You! You are the source of my stress and mental breakdowns! Ijichi wanted to scream.

While making his way to the door, Satoru quickly noted, “I’ll be here in the morning with all of it finished,” he stated before leaving his office.

At a loss for words, helpless in front of his careless boss, Ijichi just stood frozen, mind racing at all the changes and accommodations, the phone calls and e-mails he’d have to make to fit into Gojo’s schedule because he knew for sure… Gojo Satoru will not be here bright and early in the morning to finish his work — especially when it is date night.

“I should just quit,” falling to his knees, defeated by his boss’s carelessness to simply skadoodle off on a date when he was one impacted by the brunt repercussions of his actions, “surely he wants to kill me with all this— ”

Disrupting his internal monologue, “Ah, I almost forgot,” Ijichi’s mortal enemy spoke while opening the door and holding onto the knob, “I booked a small vacation for you and your wife for this weekend, it should be in my drawer,” the man simply blinked in response, “and don’t call me until I text you, I got important business for tonight,” Gojo warned before his voice quickly changed to that of pity, “yea… you definitely need that break,” he stated as he shook his head and closed the door again.

Registering what just occurred, Ijichi grunted as he lifted himself up, brushing his knees as he walked towards Satoru’s desk, lightly skipping as the scales of his exhaustion flaked off from the caring act of his boss, “Well, guess I gotta start sending those emails now…” Ijichi hummed.

…

“Traffic doesn’t seem too bad,” Gojo muttered while looking at his phone’s navigation, his steps pacing as the clicks of his heels echoed through the halls of the empty parking garage.

Sliding his hand behind the handle, the car automatically turned on as he opened the door. Lowly grunting as he entered his Bentley, his eyes quickly scanned his back seat from the rearview mirror, his mind recalling a moment a couple of days prior that left you rather speechless in his arms — hot and sticky as he reconfirmed once again his love for you in a rather lustfully carnal matter.

He could do that with you — boyfriend privileges.

It’s not like he picked out this specific car, testing out the back specifically for its… spacious seating and tinted window. Totally didn’t bring this car to work today because he wanted to test those specifications out again… but only if you were up for it.

And stepping on the gas pedal, Gojo drove out, the light screeches of his car heard from inside.

“Daddy’s coming, sweetheart,” Gojo chuckled while firmly placing a grip on his wheel, his vacant arm resting on the side.

Though a decade has gone by, Satoru still feels the same giddiness that he did when he was eighteen. He’s gotten taller, bulkier in his frame, and styled his clothes better from the god-awful sweats he always wore — though you still seem to always complain if he wasn’t wearing his specific gray ones, he doesn’t blame you. It makes his dick look nice.

He kisses you a lot better than the sloppy ones he gave you in his teen years. He gets to wake up with you — face cutely bloated, tummy peaking through his loose shirt, legs entangled with his as he takes in your beauty. He likes that, all of it.

He reads and understands your quirks before you even tell him. And strangely so, when you have a headache, well god be damned, he had one too.

He’s become more influential and held power to his name, leading a multi-billion company, but in the privacy of his home, he was still silly, honest, and vulnerable. Contrary to the changes throughout the years, Satoru was still the same — a lovesick man.

Despite your harsh decision to break up with him from a simple misunderstanding, Gojo never held it against you. He’s grown to understand and works to amend the loss — together. It was his time to grow, his time to expand his horizons and his time to explore his options. But guess fate was really on his side because he walked back to where it all started with a fresh start — finding you two years ago at a college reunion.

Life was good for Satoru — better when you came back into his world. Mornings weren’t so tough and nights didn’t feel so lonely. His mundane days of meeting and mediocre dates were of the past. Now, even the simplest days felt refreshing.

Looking out as he drove through the highway, a couple minutes from your workplace, he watched the city’s skyline sparkle in the dark. He recalled the days when he looked out the night sky, thinking if you were happy, wishing he could just understand why you decided to leave him — only for him to make some regrettable choices of relying on alcohol and texting quick fucks, slipping into weakness during the quietest of times.

It’s often when everything was quiet that felt the loudest — the most difficult to bear for him.

But now, when he sees the night sky he can’t help but feel warm with a slight tingling resonating from his core because even if it's quiet, he isn’t alone — you’ve nestled into a portion of his heart that he could never forsake, nor did he want to.

She’ll like that, Gojo thought while looking up, making a mental note to mention it to you later.

He felt his heart beating fast as he imagined what face you would make when you would see him today — happy, relieved, excited? Or did you happen to have a bad day, the exhaustion dripping from your slumped shoulders simply needing a hug with light kisses as he expressed his love?

And parking his car, carefully grabbing the bouquet as he took another whiff — he doesn’t remember flowers smelling so beautifully fragrant when you weren’t in his life, but strangely now… it does.

“Yellow tulips are my favorite,” you mentioned once while Satoru dropped you off at your dorm.

“Why,” he asked. Repeating ‘yellow tulips’ in his head multiple times just so he can type it into his notes app later when he was alone.

“Just cause… they’re beautiful and they symbolize hope and happiness,” you softly said, “I like to think there’s something out there I can be hopeful for… and maybe find the answer to finding true happiness, if that even exists, ” you shyly confessed with a gentle laugh.

And grabbing hold of your hand, gently bringing it up to his lips for a soft kiss, specific to a finger on your left hand, Satoru marked a promise, “I’ll buy you all the yellow tulips in the world, till you find that answer.”

Obviously, no flower could come abysmally close to your natural scent when he held you tightly in his arms, naked bodies touching as he breathed into your skin.

And he hoped the time he spent with you was a step closer to finding your true happiness because, to him, you meant the world.

“She’ll be out in a few, so...” he murmured while taking a look at his watch, briefly scanning the entrance to find a good spot to wait.

“There should be perfect,” he whispered to himself as he made his way to the corner — a place difficult to see through from the dangling tree leaves and vines.

Satoru couldn’t help but pleasingly reminiscence the times when he would run from his lecture to pick you up. Who can blame him, he was a man on a mission to find his princess — just so happens that she broke his heart eight years ago — but who the fuck cares about setbacks, things were good now.

He feels his heart beating, the familiar thumping in his chest as he waits for you. The usual sweating of his palms as he checked his phone for the time again, mentally groaning as time seemed to be infinitely fixed. Good thing there was no sensei asking him useless questions as he nervously waited.

“I’ll see you next week, have a great weekend Tanaka-san.”

Gojo could realize that voice anywhere.

There you were, waving goodbye to a fellow male coworker that he had never liked — the lovely Tanaka-san, you always had so many great things to say about. He should just have you transferred to his company, you’ll thrive, and even have a chance to expand your talents … but you’ll give him an earful if he does.

But that’ll be a conversation for another day when he’s more willing to put up a friendly fight with you.

Because right now, he had a mission — one he’s been striving for since eighteen.

“Ah, fancy I see you here,” Satoru voiced out, coming out from the dark with a hand behind his back, “must’ve been fate that we meet,” he stated with a wink.

Rolling your eyes with a chuckle, turning around to see your boyfriend walking over, “did you run here? Or…” you hummed while looking over to find his Bentley parked on the right, “are you gonna tell me you work here too?”

“Neither,” he shrugged while walking, “just came here to ask a pretty girl out on a date, that’s all,” his voice soft yet enticing as he now stood so closely in front of you.

“Oh, I’m sorry but I’m actually waiting for my boyfriend,” you looked around, your knees feeling weak when you caught his confident smirk, the sweet scent of his cologne hypnotizing your senses, “have you seen him? He’s really handsome, you know?” you played on.

“You do?” Satoru warmly stated as he gave you the bouquet he was hiding behind his back, his fingers gently resting on your hips as he pulled you in, your dainty heels standing in between his larger dress shoes while he pressed a warm kiss to your cheek, “Bet your handsome boyfriend doesn’t have flowers for you like this, no?”

“He gets them for me all the time,” you took a whiff of the rose and caught sight of the yellow incarnation of hope, “and always picks me up from work even though it drives his secretary insane.”

“Pssh, what a bad boyfriend,” he whispered with his gaze traveling to your lips, “you should totally dump him for me,” he pitched while cupping your face, lips teasing to touch, the slight minty breeze of his breath warming your cheeks, as he slowly closed the impending gap between you two,

“what do you say, sweetheart? Give me a chance and I’ll treat you to more than just coffee for our date tonight.”

note: hope you all enjoyed! it was rather difficult to pull out this piece because I was heartbroken from the last jjk chapter... but all is well now because gojo is healthy and well in the forbes30! universe. this was a headcanon that spiraled into a 6k fic... and hopefully i'll be able to expand on the other hc's i have for him, without breaking the word count rip

#ae.writes #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #forbes30!gojo

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 4 days

Text

❤ Yandere Lawyer ❤

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

WARNINGS: Obsession; Misogyny; slight Power Abuse.

This idea credit goes to @d-lioncourt cause she's the one that motivated me for this idea. Hope you like this :)

◾ Yandere! Lawyer who works in the top law firm of the country. He’s cold, determinate and calculative. Always thinking 10 steps ahead of everyone, carefully considering all possibilities and creating extensive back-up plans.

His job relies on his capacities and he always aims for the top. If he’s not recognized as the best lawyer available, then he doesn’t even know what he’s been doing so far.

◾ Yandere! Lawyer who doesn't care about how things are done as long as he wins the case in the end. Who said lawyers are saints?

He may be an advocate of the law but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t bend it to his will, finding sneaky gaps to reach his goal: win.

Isn’t that what makes him such a requested lawyer? Isn’t that what causes every big corporate company to try to sign him up, to offer several millions for him to represent them in court? Because everyone knows that he wins.

No matter what happens during the trials or how badly the opposite side tries, he wins. It’s an irrefutable truth and anyone that tries to contradict it is a complete and utter fool.

◾ Yandere! Lawyer who is upset enough when he’s informed that he’s gonna have to take a Pro Bono case for a random civilian. It’s frustrating to spend his precious time and expensive resources on a worthless someone.

It’s stupid and he'd immediately refuse it if it wasn’t for the strict order he receives from the higher ups.

◾ Yandere! Lawyer who rattles you up, insisting on long sessions so he can know your side of the story.

His questions feel like accusations and you hate spending long hours answering him. Makes you feel like you’ve actually committed a crime of sorts when the reality is none of that.

He knows you’re bothered by the way he pays attention to each of your words, taking mental notes of every minuscule detail so he can bring it up later.

He’s highly aware of how unnerving he can get and it’s fun to see you get so quiet and shy over it.

He loves it when people get intimidated by him and it’s particularly pleasant when a pretty thing like yourself gets too timid to spare him a few words.

◾ Yandere! Lawyer who drags the case much longer than it needs to. He could definitely end it in a blink of eyes, it would be so easy for him. A piece of cake.

But he doesn’t.

It’s exciting to see you on court, a helpless expression covering your whole face and your eyes at the verge of tears as your future lays on his hands.

So pathetically weak. You can’t even defend yourself, you need him to do that for you. To defend your honor, to protect you.

◾ Yandere! Lawyer who makes sure you know that despite it being a Pro Bono case, you owe him. He wants you to know that he’s winning this case for you, wasting his valuable time just to save your pathetic ass from those embezzlement charges.

That he’s the one saving you from going to prison - despite the very evident fact that you have such a weak personality that it’s practically impossible that you’d steal money from your boss.

◾ Yandere! Lawyer who takes every chance to hurt your feelings with snide remarks.

You look prettier when you cry, something so enticing about those shiny diamond-like tears that glow in your eyes and the miserable way you furiously blink to keep them at bay - to which you fail.

You’re crying because of him. That’s enough to make him buzz with a twisted sense of possession and control. He holds that much power over you.

◾ Yandere! Lawyer whose mind wanders over the tempting fantasies of returning home to you. You’d do a submissive girlfriend, he’s so sure of that. If he gave you a nasty slap and a few harsh words, you’d bend to his will so fast - like a obedient girlfriend should.

It would be so easy to control your life.

Order you to move in with him. Command you to become his stay-at-home girlfriend. Push you to cut off friends and family until only he remains.

Those misogynistic ideas keep him thinking about you longer than he should.

◾ Yandere! Lawyer who isn’t afraid to act upon his wishes and so he does. After a triumphing win on court, he leaves.

Storms off without even looking at you and you don’t even have the chance to thank him, but you forget about that quickly.

You have more pressing issues to focus on, such as rebuilding your life all again. Celebrate your win. Find a new job. Move on with your life the best as you can.

Your peace lasts exactly one week. And then everything comes down in rubbles.

Because then he comes to retrieve his payment.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x you #yandere x reader #tw: yandere #yandere concept #female reader #yandere headcanons #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines

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bro-atz · 3 months

Text

bottle service

in which: all yunho wants to do is fuck the bottle girl's brains out.

pair: big dick!yunho/small!afab!reader

word count: 3.4k

content: smut, completely consensual!

author's note: @yourfatherlucifer for you my love 💕

tag list: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia apply for the permanent taglist here! network: @cromernet

Yunho didn’t have a type, per se, but he found himself always drawn to girls like you. His friends made fun of him, telling him that he had a lolita complex, but that was definitely, completely, 100% not true, especially because he was not at all attracted to underaged girls. No way. Absolutely not. He just liked dainty little women with soft facial features and short statures— what she could be wearing doesn’t matter to him at all (because, honestly, he would rather they wear nothing at all).

“Five bucks says he hits on her by the end of the night,” Yunho heard Mingi whisper to San.

“There’s no fucking way I’m taking that bet because we already fucking know he’s going to do it,” San, already completely wasted, conveyed his opinion along with his sailor mouth.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Mingi frowned.

Yunho rolled his eyes. As Mingi and San continued to bicker in the background, Yunho’s eyes followed your every movement. He watched as your hair swayed gracefully while your short legs carried you around the room, making you seem like you were almost gliding. For someone so short, he was surprised to see you carrying multiple trays of beer, and his eyes flew wide open when he saw you effortlessly carry a huge bottle of champagne that could very well be three times your size— the bottle was bigger than your head for crying out loud.

“You know it’s going to be impossible to hit on a bottle girl of all people. Let’s be real, Yunho, she probably gets rich bastards hitting on her all the time, and she doesn’t even need that since she’s making so much in tips,” Seonghwa brought his voice down as he talked to the man.

“Yeah, just give up, dude,” Wooyoung added. “It ain’t never gonna happen.”

Clenching his jaw, Yunho was determined to prove them wrong. He walked away from the table and immediately up to you.

Now looking at you a little closer, Yunho didn’t realize that you were practically naked. You were wearing nothing but a cropped tank top and high-rise shorts, your red underwear peaking out whenever you bent down or moved your shoulder. Fuck, it just made the tall man want you even more.

“Hey,” he started, thinking that the line by itself would be enough.

“Hi, darling. Would your table like another round?” you, on the other hand, were in sales mode. You had no time to be flirting with this man.

“Actually, I—”

“Hey, Y/N! One more round for me and my boys!” another customer yelled from afar.

“You got it, darlin’!”

Yunho gaped as you immediately got back to work. He slunk back to his table and stood with a frown, the boys silent for a hot second before immediately bursting out into laughter.

“You’re an idiot, Yunho!” Hongjoong roared as he clapped the man on the back.

“San, you should’ve taken the bet,” Jongho pointed out.

“No, because the bet was on whether or not he would go and flirt, not whether or not he would be successful. If you said get her by the end of the night, I would’ve happily taken that bet,” San snickered.

“You guys suck,” Yunho grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Yunho wasn’t able to really focus on much after that. He wanted you even more.

You stepped out for a smoke. God knows you needed it. Yes, the tips were really fucking good, but dealing with sleazy businessmen and frat bros spending all of their daddy’s money was less than ideal. Truth be told, there was only one table there that night that you didn’t mind serving. They all seemed like a bunch of well off dudes with enough money to spend but none of the pretentiousness. Especially that one super tall guy who approached you. He didn’t seem so bad.

“Just get over it. It’s not going to happen.”

Your ears perked up when you heard a man with the lowest voice on Earth speak from around the corner. You peeked your head around to see the tall man and another one of his friends from that table.

“You really suck, Yeosang,” the tall man pouted— God, he looked so cute with a pout on his face.

“She’s working, Yunho. Don’t bother the poor thing. Let her pay her bills,” the other man, Yeosang, lectured Yunho.

A curious smile emerged on your face. Were they talking about you, perhaps?

“If we leave her a big enough tip, then she could leave work early, and everything would be fine!”

“At the risk of her losing her job! It’s one thing to just want to sleep with her, but another if you’re willing to sabotage her life just to get some pussy tonight. Also, knowing you, you’re going to fucking murder her because you’re so big and she’s so small.”

There was only one short girl on your team, and that was you. So, yes, they had to be talking about you. Killing the rest of your cigarette, you sprayed breath freshener in your mouth and smoothed out your hair before walking around the corner and sashaying back into the establishment, making sure you gave Yunho a good view. Right before you went back inside, you looked over your shoulder and smiled at him briefly, leaving him with a rock-hard boner.

“Fuck…” you barely heard Yunho groan as he desperately tried to calm himself down.

A smirk lingered on your face knowing that you got the man all sorts of hot and bothered. Good.

“So, Y/N, what’s it like to be a bottle girl?” Seonghwa asked you.

It calmed down in the establishment quite a lot after about an hour, allowing you to dedicate your time to the table that you were most excited to serve. You stood with them, the eight men towering over you. Originally, that would intimidate you, but given the information you knew about the tallest man of the group crushing hard on you, the height disparity didn’t bother you in the slightest.

“I mean, you can really see for yourself,” you responded with a smile. “It’s like being a stripper at times, but it definitely beats being a stripper since I don’t have to give lap dances to wasted men. I just serve them alcohol.”

“So you used to be a stripper?” San smirked— not at you, though; he was just trying to get a rise out of Yunho.

“Yeah, I did that for a couple of years before moving to the city and getting this job.”

“That’s so fucking sexy of you, Y/N,” Mingi, who was standing closest to you, stood the tiniest bit closer and ran his finger along your arm. You could see Yunho’s jaw clench when he saw what Mingi did to you.

With an exasperated smile, you grabbed Mingi’s hand and pushed it away while saying, “Buddy, you can look, but you can’t touch.”

“Not even if I tip you well?”

“She just said she’s not a stripper anymore, Mankgi,” Hongjoong swatted the back of the boy’s head. “Don’t do something stupid.”

You saw Yunho’s jaw relax, nearly making you laugh. Yunho was definitely subtle with his reactions, but you were keeping such a close eye on him that every single action and reaction of his did not go missed by you. He was such a cutie, and you were here for it.

“So, Y/N, what time do you have to stay and work until?” Yeosang, who seemed to be wingman-ing Yunho, asked you.

“We close at 3 AM, so 4 AM,” you sighed. “Gotta enter the tips and help the busboys clean up.”

“You would think as a sexy bottle girl, you wouldn’t have to do menial labor like that,” Wooyoung mused.

“We’re still employees,” you laughed. Then, bringing your voice down, you said, “But I like helping because sometimes we find loose bills around the venue. Free money.”

The place was practically empty by the time 3 AM rolled around. You realized that as you talked to the eight men, you talked to all of them except the man that you were actually interested in. Bummer. You couldn’t expect him to wait for you after work, so when they all left for the night, a light sigh left your lips, and you half-heartedly finished your work for the night.

Yet, at 4 AM, you left the building to see Yunho standing outside. It was a little chilly out, so you could see his breath in the air as he exhaled and looked up at the sky. He looked so sexy standing there with his hands in his pockets, his jawline and neck accentuated in the city lights as he held his head up high.

Of course Yunho was going to wait for you. You weren’t as subtle as you’d like to think— he noticed your sly looks in his direction when you were talking to his table, and he knew that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. Fuck, you were so perfect for him, and he told himself he would do anything if he got to spend the rest of the night with you, even if that meant waiting outside for you for an hour. At least that gave him time to sober up slightly more (not that he had much to drink in the first place).

“Yunho, right?” you asked as you approached the man.

“Oh! Y/N,” Yunho, surprised, turned around to face you, a light blush appearing on his face. “H-hi…”

“Hey.”

Yunho was speechless for a split moment— you weren’t in your work clothes anymore, and you definitely had a lot more on than before, but your long coat just accentuated your short stature, making the man thirst for you even more. Your hair tumbled around lightly as the wind pushed it back, revealing the playful glimmer in your eyes. Yunho was smitten. Completely and utterly smitten.

“Sorry, I know it must be creepy for a man to be waiting for you after work— I’m sure it happens all the time, and I don’t mean to be one of those men, but I just—”

Yunho, rambling out of sheer nervousness, cut himself off when you approached him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. You gave him a half-flirty, half-appreciative smile as you looked at him. You didn’t need to utter a word for Yunho to feel reassured that the feelings were mutual. Thank God.

“Would you like to go somewhere with me?” you asked him, your voice barely audible over the rushing wind.

Yunho couldn’t keep his hands off you. In the car ride to the hotel, he had his large hand on your thigh, rubbing slowly and sensually, but not going further than that. And then, in the elevator, he pinned you against the wall and grabbed the back of your head, immediately pulling you in for a rough kiss. You clutched and grabbed at his forearms as he fully overtook you, his lips completely devouring yours. He only got more rough from there when he shoved his hand down the waistband of your pants and panties, his fingers stroking your dripping folds.

“Yun— Ah! Yunho, w-wait,” you moaned, your words muffled against his lips.

“What do you mean “wait”, doll? You’re so fucking wet for me,” Yunho teased as he murmured against your lips. “I think you’re just as impatient as I am.”

“M-my legs,” you whimpered before inhaling sharply. “If you don’t wait, I won’t be able to stand…”

“If that’s the case,” Yunho growled before withdrawing his hand so he could lift you, his large hands grabbing and squeezing your ass as he suspended you in the air.

You laced your fingers through his hair and held tightly as you brought your lips to his once more, his tongue diving deep into your mouth as he resumed eating you alive. The elevator doors opened, and you for sure thought he was going to let you down, but instead, he continued to carry you down the hall, his lips still locked in a frenzy with yours. Soft moans and sighs left the two of you as you got to the room. Yunho unlocked the room and immediately rushed inside so he could pin you on the bed and rip your clothes off you.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” Yunho murmured as he gazed at your slick, his tongue sensually running along his lower lip. “Gimme a taste, why don’t you?”

You nodded shyly. Yunho’s hands went under your thighs and pushed your legs up, his tongue meeting your cunt. You cried out in pleasure when you felt his tongue slither inside you, his nose brushing against your clit as he ate you out. It was when Yunho lifted you up while continuing lick and slurp up your arousal fluid did you yelp, the man holding you up in the air as his tongue violated you. You held onto the roots of his hair and gripped for dear life, the fear of you falling sending blood rushing through your body but also filling you with excitement.

Before you could cum, Yunho let you down. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt and looked down at your tiny, helpless body, a smirk forming on his face as thought about you looking torn to shreds because of his monster cock. You watched him with trembling eyes as the man slowly stripped down for you, your eyes widening as you saw his firm cock trembling and waiting to burst forth from his underwear.

“Y-yunho… I— I don’t think you’re going to fit,” you said with slight fear.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Yunho responded nonchalantly as he revealed his massive cock and tapped your waist lightly, his cock the literal length of your stomach.

Rolling on a condom that he had taken out from his wallet moments prior, Yunho got on the bed and rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds. You were terrified that he was going to just push his way right through you, but instead, Yunho merely pushed the head into your cunt, then pulled out. He did this several times, frustration starting to build inside you as he teased the everloving shit out of you.

“For someone who was so afraid, you seem to want me inside you,” Yunho chuckled.

“Fu-uck! Yunho, do something, please,” you begged him, the fire in your loins burning a hole within you.

“Alright. Just relax for me, okay?” Yunho said, his voice hushed and calm as he caressed your face.

You nodded and did your best to relax, your head pushing into his hand as he finally pushed more than just the tip into you. You felt him fill you up, and you felt like he was tearing you as his cock spread you wider than you had ever been spread. You reached for his arms and held on tightly as he pressed his hands onto the bed right above your shoulders, a groan rumbling in the back of his throat.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Yunho grunted. “Loosen up.”

You inhaled and exhaled deeply, Yunho shoving his length all the way inside you when you exhaled. You flung your head back and cried loudly as you felt his cock throb uncontrollably inside you, his cock brushing against your cervix. Yunho remained in place as he let out an erotic sigh while you, on the other hand, were panting and trying desperately to blink the stars out of your vision.

“See,” Yunho told you, a cocky smile on his face. “I do fit.”

“Mmmhmmm,” you couldn’t even formulate words— all the man did was push his cock in you, and you already felt like you were fucked out simply because of how much he filled you up.

He only thrusted into you a singular time, but your entire body lurched and moved backwards with said thrust. The sound of his waist hitting your ass echoed loudly in the room, and the sound only got more repetitive as he began to properly move. His cock was so massive that you felt like he was going to pull out your insides.

“Doll, you feel so fucking good,” Yunho grunted out, his head dropping down to your neck. “So fucking good. You’re so tight and small— Fuck!”

Yunho flipped the two of you so that he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him. When you sat all the way down, you felt like his cock shot straight through you, hitting your cervix with such force that you came immediately. You cried loudly as you creamed and clenched, making the man flinch and nearly cum himself.

“Shit, don’t go squeezing me like that,” Yunho grunted with a little chuckle. “You nearly snapped my cock off.”

“Do-Don’t act like you— Hnngh— Didn’t like that,” you panted out, little groans leaving you as you continued to ride his fat cock.

Yunho smirked. He propped himself up on his elbows and thrust into you at an angle that made you completely fall apart, your hands resting on his abs to keep you steady. You could barely keep your hands in place, though, because he brought his lips to your breast and started sucking hard, his mouth completely overtaking your nipple. You entire body trembled when you felt his tongue flick and swirl around your nipple, and it certainly did not help that he sucked super hard on your breast as if he was trying to get something out of it. Your toes curled as he switched from one to the other, and his waist refused to let up as he thrust powerfully from underneath you.

“‘m c-cumming again!” you moaned loudly as your cunt convulsed, making you squirt all over Yunho’s waist.

He, however, refused to give you a break. Your head was still in the cloud when he sat up entirely and moved so that he was kneeling and you were still sitting on his cock, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into you continuously. You clung to him and moaned loudly as his thrusts did not slow down in the slightest. He continued to drill into you over and over again, his force so immense that he ended up pinning you down on the bed again.

His cock kept rubbing along your G-spot and hitting your cervix, and the louder you cried, the more intense that feeling got. You could barely see through bleary, teary eyes that his eyes were dark and his jaw was tense as he fucked you into the mattress.

“You’re tightening up again, doll— are you gonna cum again?” Yunho could barely laugh as he groaned his question.

“Ye-es, I’m c-close,” you whined. “I’m gonna—”

Yunho interrupted you with a kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, the blood rushing to your ears as you barely heard him say, “Wait for me. I’m al-almost there— Shit!”

Suddenly pulling out, Yunho removed the condom and came all over you, his seed spreading from your chest all the way down to your convulsing pussy as you, too, came. Yunho sat back on his heels and jerked himself off as more of his hot cum spurt out and landed on your skin.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed as you flung your head back into the sheets, your hands covering your face. “That was insane.”

“In a good or bad way?” Yunho asked with a slight laugh, his body hovering over yours as he brought himself to look at your fucked out face.

“Good— That was too fucking good, Yunho,” you sighed out. “Too fucking good…”

“I’d say let’s go again, but I’m afraid I’ve only got the one condom,” he whispered.

“…Are you clean?”

“Yes, are you?”

You nodded then reached for his neck, pulling him into your embrace. Your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “Then I don’t see why we can’t go again.”

Yunho shivered, and his cock firmed up almost immediately. He grabbed you and flipped you over so that you were on your hands and knees, his cock immediately rubbing along your ass crack.

“You’re going to regret saying that to me, doll.”

#Spotify #ateez #jeong yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader #reader x yunho #ateez yunho #jeong yunho ateez #yunho ateez #jeong yunho smut #ateez jeong yunho #broatz

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spider-stark · 29 days

Text

INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place.

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange.

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown.

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter.

Or, at least, none that mattered.

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do.

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play.

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift.

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether.

And Peter never even asked why.

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?”

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.”

And how true that must have been.

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too.

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night?

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.”

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?!

“Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?”

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.”

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter.

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.”

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.”

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter.

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.”

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used.

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar.

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite.

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now.

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?”

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.”

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too.

“Did he?”

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.”

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's.

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him.

“Well did he have anything useful?”

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter.

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups.

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0.

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration.

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear.

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?”

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation.

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.”

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite.

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?”

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.”

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?”

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch.

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?”

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him.

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.”

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.”

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.”

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth.

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.”

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?”

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?”

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.”

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now!

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-”

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!”

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.”

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded.

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere.

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now.

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down…

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.”

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell.

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered.

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night?

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.”

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips.

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world.

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all.

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone.

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting.

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway.

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!”

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!”

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else.

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?”

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?”

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.”

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse.

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully.

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter.

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!”

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.”

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?”

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task.

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway.

“Mj happened.”

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?”

“Yep. That’s the one.”

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.”

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.”

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease.

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth.

You sucked in a breath.

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.”

His brow snapped up. “What changed?”

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours.

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth.

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?”

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance.

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.”

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-”

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.”

“I’m not pretending-”

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.”

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.”

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest.

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.”

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?”

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

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hotmencore · 10 months

Text

"𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬" 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!reader (she/her)

Summary: Charles is modelling for a magazine, and the photographer captures a heart warming moment between him and his girlfriend.

Warnings: None, pure fluff

Word count: 500+

A/N: I don’t know if i really like this or not, it was very rushed, so let me know what you think! Thank you for all the support so far, i really do appreciate it.

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this account, @hotmencore

Charles was shooting for GQ magazine, and asked for you to come with him, as he wanted you there to see the clothes and photos before the public and his fans could.

Everything went wonderful. The clothes Charles was to wear fitted him perfectly from head to toe, and truly complimented his good looks. You tried not to gawk at your boyfriend, but honestly, you couldn't help it. He just looked so handsome. There weren't too many outfits for him try on, but the photographer wanted many angles and poses from Charles, some even with his helmet. But you didn't mind, not one bit. Charles was travelling a lot, which was a given when you 'signed up' to the whole dating an f1 driver thing, and you also had your own job to think about. So when you were both able to be in Monaco for a while, you two wouldn't waste any opportunities in spending it with each other.

Charles was handed his last outfit to try on, whilst the photographer set the camera up for the last round of photos. Charles changed quicker than the photographer was done setting up, so took the opportunity to embrace his girlfriend.

"Chérie, come here" Charles softly beckons you to him.

You stand up from where you were sat behind the camera, and walk over to Charles stood in the middle of the floor with a grin. Straight away, his arms softly wrapped around your frame. One of his hands weaved delicately around your lower back, whilst the other lightly cupped your face, causing you to look up into his eyes. He looked so mesmerizing.

"You are so beautiful mon amour, i could simply look at you for hours" You could feel your face start to heat up. You had been dating for a long time, but he never failed to make you feel just as precious as he did the first night you two met.

Charles confirms the redness to your cheeks with a smile, as his forehead lowers to softly rest on yours, his hand now moving from your cheek, to now lovingly secure you in his hold with a link of his hands behind your back. You both just stayed there, looking into each others eyes. In that moment, it felt like no one or nothing else mattered in the world. It was just you two. Charles leaned down ever so slightly more, and softly pressed his lips to yours. Reciprocating immediately, your arms moved to rest on his biceps as you two shared your sweet moment.

Minutes after, Charles started on the home stretch for the shoot, as you resumed your position from behind the camera.

A few days later, the photos had been released, and a copy of the magazine came through your letterbox. You and Charles sat on the couch cuddled up together looking through the magazine for his article. All photos were absolutely perfect, and right at the end, one unfamiliar one revealed itself to you both. It was a photo of you and Charles, from the moment you shared at the shoot, your foreheads together as you both stared lovingly into each others eyes, smiles plastered on both of your faces. You must have not realized the photographer had completed her new set up, and she clearly found the moment too sweet not to capture in a photo.

Now, that page of glossy printed paper is hung up in your shared home, so that you can both treasure the memory as much as you treasured the moment.

#1000 likes? tysm!!!#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc one shot #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #charles leclerc x yn

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mm-lurking · 3 months

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Why do you care? - Blade

Perhaps you should have thought twice before deciding to take on a powerful enemy at night or perhaps you shouldn’t have, if it means you get a certain someone to care about you.

I wrote this at 11 pm sleep deprived and out of my mind for like many nights straight please forgive me in advance for the grammar etc English is like my 4th language thank you WC: 3440 words Warnings: none just angst, fluff, some description of blood and wounds and me being a simp —

Your blade clashes with the Antimatter Legion creature’s weapon continuously leaving no room for you to think or even plan an escape. With each strike you find yourself feeling weaker and wobbly, as if the enemy were quite literally taking your strength away. The large wound on your back stings and burns and you can feel blood dripping down your ripped shirt, soaking into your pants and splattering on the floor. If it weren’t for the stupid enemy ambushing you and leaving you with a slash on your back, you would have already beaten the crap out of it and gone home for a good night’s sleep.

But no, here you were struggling even to cause reasonable damage that allowed you to deliver the final blow or at least escape. Your movements were getting more fast-paced and aggressive out of frustration which caught the enemy off guard. When will this end?!? With one last ounce of energy you had left in you, you gritted your teeth and struck the creature in the chest, delivering a reasonable blow and causing it to retreat.

“Ha…huff…”

The adrenaline from the fight started to wear out and it didn’t take long before you fell on your hands and knees, clutching your shirt and trying to breathe. You did not have the energy to sit upright, let alone walk back to your residence. Unfortunately for you, the loss of blood caught on quickly. Before you could even formulate a plan your body gave way and you went crashing on the stone pavement head first, with the wound on your back feeling more uncomfortable as the cold winds of the night caressed your back. That’s all you remembered before everything turned black.

- How tardy, Blade tsked as he leaned against the front wall of your residence, waiting impatiently by the door. He had checked the time thrice already in the past ten minutes. As requested by Kafka, you were supposed to meet him at your residence to discuss some business. Why the hell did Kafka choose me for this? he thought to himself, what a waste of my time to associate with someone like her. Yet, despite his annoyance he still waited and waited until his frustration got the better of him.

Glaring at your front door, he walked off. He would let Kafka know later that you weren’t there for whatever reason and ask her to stop sending him to you every time. For some reason no matter how many times he told Kafka he didn’t want to see you, she would still find a way to send him to you. Was it because of some sort of mutual agreement between you and Kafka? Who knows. He didn’t care and nor did he want to. He just wanted to be left alone.

The path he took back home required him to cross the very street you were unconscious on. Of course, he didn’t know that. Blade was walking at his usual pace when he spotted a figure in the distance in the middle of the street, one that looked awfully similar to yours. He tsked again and shook his head. I must be seeing things. Yet as he continued walking, this lingering feeling he had about you continued to pester him and fully manifested when he approached the figure and realised-

“…!”

-it was you. His eyes widened momentarily and his breath hitched as he examined your state, trying to make sense of what had happened to you. There was blood everywhere around you; pools of it that were semi-dried and half-fresh. Your hair was all over the place with most of it soaked in blood from your injuries. And that gash on your back; the way your flesh was practically visible all the way down to the innermost layers of your muscle, the bruises that had started to form around your wound, the scratches and marks on your hands and arms, all of it, every single inch of your injury caused unfamiliar emotions to stir in his heart. It made his blood boil stronger and stronger. In a split second, he knelt by your side, uncaring how your blood soaked into his pants or how he was dirtying his clothes from the pavement dirt.

He gently flipped you over and the sight of your pale face made his heart drop for a moment. There was no sign of life on your face, you looked concerningly peaceful and your forehead had bruised from crashing into the pavement. If it weren't for more fresh blood gushing down his fingers from holding your back, he would have thought he lost you. Blade was no stranger to injuries and wounds. Blood and bruises were a normal day occurrence to him, they were his companion through this cursed immortal life of his. Yet, when it came to you, seeing you in such a state scared him, an emotion he seldom felt. He didn’t care if he was the one to get hurt but if it was you, he couldn’t stand it. He wouldn’t stand it.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he carefully put his arms behind your knees and neck to avoid touching your back before picking you up and walking hastily to the hideout the Stelleron hunters were residing in. Was he a wanted criminal? Yes, but he didn’t care. All that mattered right now was you and your well-being. The door opened with a loud bang and he walked in holding your limp body, his eyes searching everywhere to find a suitable location to tend to your injuries.

“Bladie there you are. How was-”

Kafka stopped talking mid-speech as she noticed Blade and the distressed condition he was in. She stared at the familiar body he was holding and remained speechless before running off to get medical supplies they had lying around for Blade’s mara-struck symptoms. He quickly laid you on your side in his lap and proceeded to build a makeshift bed using blankets and pillows so he could finally tend to your injuries. Kafka returned with supplies in her hands, still confused and flabbergasted at what had occurred and why Blade cared in the first place.

“What happened to her?”

“...”

He said nothing and immediately started to perform first-aid, first gently pushing the torn shirt off your back and brushing your hair aside. Despite his hands being gloved and bandaged, he felt tingles in his fingers as he grazed your skin. Destruction was what he was skilled at yet the way he handled you was gentle and soft, afraid that he would hurt you, as if you were made out of porcelain. He worked skillfully and swiftly on your gash, cleaning and stitching it all up to the best of his abilities before turning to the smaller injuries you had on your arms. By the time he was done with just your back, the moon shone at the highest point of the sky, indicating how long it had taken for him.

But he didn’t care as he looked out the window and then back at you. The moonlight basked your figure in a gentle glow and he found his heart oddly skipping a beat as he stared. Your weak breathing was enough to console him, enough to let him know you were at least alive. Subconsciously he found himself reaching out to caress your cheek, softly tracing over your skin as he watched you for a moment. What was it about you that he couldn’t get enough of? Why was he so persistent in pushing you away while simultaneously wanting your company? Why did he-

“I will call one of her friends over tomorrow to take her to the nearest infirmary.”

Kafka voiced out breaking his line of thoughts. He quickly retracted his fingers and cleared his throat as he worked on your forehead bruise. The woman chuckled and shook her head, smiling slightly. Was this all part of Elio’s plan? Who knows.

“She should be awake in the morning.”

He stated calmly but the burning gaze in his eyes betrayed him. Judging by the severity of your wounds, he wasn’t even sure if you would make it out the night. Kafka said nothing and silence fell once again.

“You should rest Bladie.”

“No need.”

“I can look after her.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

The woman smiled once again and shook her head.

“Alright if you say so. If you need me I will be in the other room. Silverwolf has brought back some interesting information for me to sift through.”

She waved her hand around and left the room leaving Blade alone with you. As he finished putting the last bandage on you, he pulled you closer on his lap, gently placing an arm on your waist to keep you from slipping before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

The image of you lying in your own blood flashed through his head again and his eyebrows furrowed. What if he had never come to save you? What if he had left through some other street and never saw you? The idea of him not seeing you alive again tomorrow, the idea of you no longer coming to meet with Kafka, the idea of you no longer looking in his direction…all of it caused a pang in his heart. It was a strange sensation that he didn’t understand and a feeling he couldn’t quite fathom. The grip on your waist tightened as opened his eyes to look at you. You looked so peaceful and content, almost like you hadn’t been gravely injured at all, like you hadn’t nearly bled to death.

As much as he wanted to remain in this position and watch over you, he had to get medicine for your injuries. He reluctantly placed you on the makeshift bed and placed pillows around to prop you up before getting up to go find some.

—

A wave of sharp pain surges through your body prompting your consciousness to start awakening. The pain combined with your tired body creates an uncomfortable feeling in you and with each ripple of pain, you find yourself awakening slowly but surely, like a diver trying to reach the water’s surface to break out.

“Hngh…”

A groan slips out from your mouth as you slowly open your eyes. As you adjust to your surroundings in confusion, the pain of your back wound comes back in full effect causing you to cry out loud. It burns, stings and aches all at once and the threshold is way beyond your bearable pain level. You try to move around but no position eases your suffering and so ultimately you try to sit upright, struggling as tears run down your face. Footsteps quickly approach you and before you can wrap your head around who it is, the figure hurriedly sits down with a bottle in his hand, concern written all over his face as he tries to get you to lie down.

“Bl-blade?”

You say through your tears, choking as you struggle to breathe. You refuse to lay down and uncomfortably shuffle around trying to even get an ounce of relief. Your mind is blurry and confused as you attempt to recall what had happened and what is currently going on.

“You’re hurt.”

He watches as you stare at him through the tears in your eyes and something about that causes those unfamiliar emotions from earlier to stir in his heart again. You shake your head groaning and seething in pain as you attempt to talk.

“Why are you- what-“

“Drink.”

He doesn’t give you an answer and instead supports your neck with one hand as he brings the bottle closer to your face with his other one. You scrunch your face and move away which causes him to frown.

“Foolish. You’re injured. Drink it unless you want to continue withering in pain.”

His voice is sharp and low which causes you to flinch and agree to his request. He brings the bottle up to your lips and you look at him as you take sips. To his surprise, you don’t hesitate to drink down the bitter herbal medicine and finish it in one go. The concoction seems to take immediate effect and you sigh from having temporary relief.

You look back at the man who's holding you up. The tears on your cheeks have dried and you notice he’s still looking at you. There is no emotion on his face yet somehow you can tell he’s concerned and watching out for anything that might happen.

“Blade…why…why do you care?”

There is a small smile on your weary face as you speak. You’re delirious, he notes, seeing how your eyes keep shutting close and how your body seems unable to support itself up. He doesn’t reply to you as usual and stares at you silently.

“I know you hate me…you don’t even like being around me, I know you hate meeting me, if it weren’t for Kafka you wouldn’t even look in my direction…”

You close your eyes and look down as you feel the tears starting to form and run down your face again. At this rate you weren’t sure what was hurting more, the gash on your back or the pain in your heart. You were spilling everything that had been on your mind since the beginning of it all when you first started falling for him. On a normal day, you would never speak your thoughts out like this but nothing about today was normal, was it? What you don’t notice is the tiny frown that has formed on Blade’s face as you speak. You draw a shaky breath as you continue.

“Why did you save me…? You should have left me alone…at least that way you would never see me again and that would make you happy I know-“

“I suggest you shut it.”

You look up as he cuts you off. There is a strange expression on his face consisting of annoyance and anger. He grits his teeth as he holds himself back from saying more. But you being you, you shake your head and continue, the tears now splattering on the blankets lying on the floor as your emotions come out in full force.

“Where are we? Is Kafka here...? I can let her know that she no longer needs to send you to meet me…I’m sure she will understand-“

“I said shut it.”

His voice drops down an octave and you feel fear creep up your spine. Afraid, you drop your head again but you can guess that his crimson eyes are probably aflame right now based on your previous observations. Do you listen? No.

“You don’t have to do this…if Kafka is making you do this you can go now it’s ok-“

“Have you always been this insufferable?!”

The sharpness in his voice and the tightening grip on your neck make you flinch in fear. He quickly lets go when he realises he’s hurting you and exhales. You remain staring at the ground, afraid to look up at his face. Unfortunately, before you can reply to him, the gash on your back starts to hurt again and you tremble, frowning as the pain sharpens.

“What’s wrong?”

There is a hint of panic in his voice as you squirm. Your knuckles turn white from the way you hold onto the blanket and your arms feel weak. Everything turns hazy again and nausea kicks in. A dull throb starts to pound in your head causing a groan to slip from your mouth.

“Y/N.”

He calls your name out as he gently lifts your chin. His frown deepens seeing the pain all over your face. Beads of cold sweat form on the side of your forehead and he notices you’re struggling to breathe again.

“It hurts Blade…it hurts…”

You say softly as your eyes blur again. The endless tears you have shed today in front of him shatter his heart. With each tear that streams down your face, he finds himself in agony, wishing it was him that was hurting instead, wishing that the pain you were dealing with were his to bear. But no, there is nothing he can do except watch you wither from your wounds. He reaches out to cup your face, slowly wiping the tears away with one hand while the other supports your shoulder. You shiver a little from the contact nevertheless welcome it. His touch is unfamiliar yet so soothing on your bare skin.

“Did the medicine wear off?”

You slowly nod yes and he sighs. Your injuries are severe after all, no wonder the concoction didn’t last long. It is a miracle that you are still breathing and conscious after such an event. He looks behind you at the faint glimmers of moonlight. Judging by the dimming rays, it should be dawn soon, he notes.

“Bear it for a little longer, Kafka will have a friend of yours escort you to a nearby infirmary soon.”

To his surprise, you shake your head and lean into the palm of his hand. He freezes momentarily but doesn’t push you away.

“I..remain with me..a little longer..please..?”

Your voice is shaky and barely audible as you make your request. Your puffy eyes flutter close preventing you from seeing how his expression softens a bit and the small smile that forms on his face. He gently pushes you towards him, causing you to lean into his body. You don’t deny the silent invitation and rest your head in the crook of his neck, a tiny smile forming on your face as you inhale his sweet metallic scent. His heartbeat is irregular and louder than usual from how your breath tickles his neck but you are too lightheaded to notice. His hand now rests at the base of your head while the other one lies loosely on your waist, gently caressing you in an attempt to ease your pain. You still squirm and twitch every now and then but it does not bother him, for right now all he cares about making you feel as comfortable as possible.

“I don’t hate you.”

He mutters under his breath. You’re barely conscious so he can say whatever he wants right? Not that you will really remember any of this.

“Hate…is not a word I would use on you.”

He glances at you. Your back rises and falls slowly from your breathing. He takes a look at your injured back once again and clenches his jaw. The bandages he had wrapped around you were starting to become bloody again.

“You perplex me. Yet your outlandish behaviour is so amusing. I cannot stay away from you.”

The fingers around your waist tighten as his grip becomes more firm. You shudder a bit at his action but say nothing. Not that you are in your right mind anyway, everything he says feels like a fever dream, a faraway voice talking to you.

“I prefer having you around. Your company delights me.”

He continues on as he strokes the back of your neck and you hum in content. You fit so perfectly against the palm of his hands and the crook of his neck, almost as if you were meant to be his. Meant to be his companion.

“You asked why I care…I care because I want you around.”

He leans into your head making sure to avoid the bruise on your forehead. Your hair tickles his face and the faint scent of your shampoo pleasantly occupies his senses. You’ve managed to fall asleep now from the low rumbling of his voice and the warmth his body radiates. A quiet chuckle leaves his lips as he realises this and the unyielding grip he has on you doubles.

“If you were to get hurt again…”

He murmurs inaudibly as he gazes in the distance. No, he would never allow you to be hurt again. He wouldn’t let such an opportunity arise in the first place. And if some lowly fool even dared to lay their hands on you…they would be a dead man walking. Once you got better and your wounds healed completely, he would make sure to protect you from any harm to the best of his abilities. But for now…

He looks at you again, his eyes burning with concern and a tinge of malevolence. No one could take you away from him. When the time was right and he was certain, he would make you his. For now, you resting contently in his arms, breathing softly in the safety of his protection should suffice. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

#honkai star rail #blade x reader #hsr x reader #blade hsr #hsr blade #blade x you #blade honkai #blade angst #blade fluff #enemies to lovers #stellaron hunters #tsundere #yingxing #hsr angst #hsr #star rail #hsr fluff

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hariboz · 5 months

Text

PROMISE ME…!

“when you don’t tell your boyfriend you’re sick and still perform!”

pairing: idol!bf!ricky x gn!idol!reader

genre: fluff, tiny angst (?)

warning: mention of headaches, blurry vision, nausea and similar symptoms, softie bf!ricky, that’s it i think?

notes: ty to nonnie for requesting this!! i got a little carried away but i got into a pretty good flow writing it so i hope you enjoy 🥹🫶🏻 also!! this is my first time writing idol!reader so i hope it feels somewhat realistic…? as realistic as it can be i guess 😵‍💫

word count: 1.8k (😵‍💫 how and why…)

five, six, seven, eight.

five, six, seven—

“y/n, are you okay?” the voice of your leader rips you out of your trance, your tired eyes meeting in the mirror. you nod and put on a bright, although fake smile in hopes of being reassuring, though you’re not sure you were being all too convincing — either way, none of your members pry, because they understand. they understand the need to push through, especially now with all these end of the year award shows happening; you simply can’t afford to be sick, to fall behind and to be absent from such huge events. so, you decide to push through the dizziness, nausea and pain. you’ll take some medication later, it’ll be fine. (at least that’s what you’re telling yourself when you catch yourself stumbling from the dizziness when you get ready to practice your solo entrance.) even though there is a silent understanding between you and your members, there still is one person you know you won’t be able to convince, no matter how hard you’ll try — your boyfriend and professional overthinker in regards to your well-being, ricky.

it’s quite cute, the juxtaposition of his public image and the way he tends to worry. did you eat? does your throat hurt from vocal practice? did you trip during dance practice again? (a question that’s especially annoying considering you told him about tripping once, roughly six months ago. he refuses to let it go.) he sends you teas and throat sprays to make sure your voice is taken care of, secretly checks the soles of your shoes to make sure they aren’t getting slippery, somehow manages to pack you little snacks you can munch on when you haven’t eaten anything before practice again. he’s very rarely stern, much too soft-spoken and gentle towards you to speak to you in a more serious manner when he’s worried, so he shows his care and love through these things — which makes you feel all the more guilty when you straight up have to lie to him when he asks if practice is going fine, if you’re feeling well, and letting you know how excited he (along with gyuvin, he mentions) is to see you perform in person up close.

you try your hardest to get better before the performance, you really do. well, as much as you can between hours and hours of practice and barely any sleep, at least. all your efforts seem to be in vain, though, because the day of the performance seems to be the worst day yet — if you had a choice, you would bury yourself under every blanket available and not leave your bed for at least a week, that’s how awful you feel when you and your members are picked up from your dorm during the wee hours of the morning.

unfortunately, the little perfectionistic gremlin that lives at the back of your mind refuses to let all these weeks of practice go to waste, so you muster up a brave smile through your shaking pupils and tell your worrying members that you have everything under control — you’ll smash this performance just like all the other ones, even if you have to do it while being a little dizzy. it’s no big deal, you’re a professional after all.

your stylists is making some last minute adjustments to your outfits when a gentle knock sounds through the room, a very familiar blonde head of hair popping in. you rush over to ricky, his arms snaking around you immediately. “hey, handsome,” you mutter as you observe his face, a small grin playing on his lips. “you’re not looking to bad yourself, hm?” his voice is smooth as he brushes some of your hair out of your face, careful to not interfere with your hairstylist’s hard work. you’re thrown off your balance a little when another dizziness spell hits you out of nowhere, the look on ricky’s face immediately morphing into one of concern, “are you okay?”

you muster up a smile and just nod, eyes blinking rapidly to dispel the black dots bouncing around in your vision, “yeah, i’m just a little nervous,” you reach up to adjust his collar to avoid meeting his worried eyes, “i’m fine. just freaking out a little, that’s all.” you can tell ricky doesn’t entirely believe you, but he trusts that you would come to him if there was something wrong — so he reluctantly lets the subject go. he steals a quick kiss to your lips, whispering a “good luck, i love you.” before he turns to leave to make any last preparations for his own performance.

your first wave of regret overcomes you when you stand ready beneath the stage, you and your members getting into position to perform the intro to your performance. your head feels like it’s about to split and your hands are shaky, but it’s too late to turn back now — as queen sunmi once said, the show must go on.

your second wave of regret comes when you’re actually on stage, all the lights, the music, the screams and your in-ear monitor feeling less like the dream you’ve worked so hard to achieve and more like your own personal hell. your group having your own amazing entrance with one of the stage elevators excited you at first; unfortunately, right now you’re preoccupied with managing your expressions to make sure you won’t let any irritation or discomfort slip.

your third and final wave of regret comes when you stand in the middle of the stage in this massive venue, tens of thousands of eyes on you as you start to perform your solo part of the song — your head is pounding and you can barely hear your own voice through your in-ears anymore, your steps are shaky and imprecise, your vision is blurry. you manage to push through, somehow, but it’s clear in the way your chest is heaving once the lights go out that you’re not well.

the atmosphere is very much tense in the part of the audience where your fellow idols sit, all of them having to cover their very obvious concern with faux excitement — you pulled it off well enough, but it’s clear to every single one of them that you’re sick and that you probably should not have performed. ricky especially has to keep his expressions in check, because the mix of worry and concern but also frustration and maybe a little anger is raging heavily inside him right now.

the worry and concern are obvious, the last thing he wants to see is you being sick, much less performing in that state. the frustration is bubbling inside him because he knows that you know better, that even the chance of you hurting yourself even worse by performing while sick is enough reason to sit out one performance. the anger is entirely directed at your staff and maybe some of your members, your leader at least — they must’ve seen that you were unwell, no? and they still let you on stage? is that not what managers and leaders are for, to take matters into their own hands and to know what’s best for their members? it all comes to a head when your members join the other idols in the audience while you’re nowhere in sight.

ricky is getting restless, his hands sprawling against his dress pants, occasionally pinching the fabric to keep his mind occupied. gyuvin and matthew both gave him little reassuring pats on his back but neither did much to comfort him, his mind entirely preoccupied with worrying about you and counting down the minutes to when he will finally be able to check up on you backstage.

it’s about an hour later when the award show is finally over, and for once ricky is the first one to rush backstage, a little ahead of all of his members. he swerves past staff and security and doesn’t even bother knocking on your group’s dressing room, ripping the door open to find your shocked but still very exhausted eyes staring up at him in surprise, “ricky?”

he’s in front of you in the blink of an eye, squatting down to meet you eye-to-eye, his hands gently cradling your face, “are you okay? for real, this time?” his brows are furrowed and you feel a little bad for thinking that he looks pretty handsome all serious like this. you nod sheepishly, apology ready to spill from your lips when he squishes your cheeks together to silence you, “shhh, you listen to me. never do that again, okay? do you know how scary that was, watching you perform like that? what if something had happened, you know you could’ve—,” he stumbles over his words a little, clearly worked up, “i don’t know, fallen off stage or something. you could’ve fainted! or you could’ve broken something or— i don’t know, just, promise me, don’t do that again.” ricky’s once so stern voice turns soft towards the end again, never really able to keep up his serious tone for long, especially towards you.

“‘m sorry, just didn’t want to let anyone down,” you mumble, leaning into his touch. his cold hands on your face feel incredibly nice, a stark contrast to your feverish face. he sighs and one of his hands comes up to brush your hair away from your face, his hand stroking your head softly, “i know, but still. don’t do stuff like that, okay? talk to someone when you’re not feeling well. your managers, your members, me — there’s so many people you can go to, okay? anyone, as long as you tell someone,” you nod along to him, and maybe it’s the guilt of making him worry so much or the fact that you’re overwhelmed from the amount of affection coming from him while you’re still a little delirious, but you feel like you need to lighten the atmosphere with a little joke.

“even gyuvin?” the gentle expression on his face falls almost immediately, replaced by a very unimpressed stare. you break out into quiet giggles, muttering a “sorry” before pressing a kiss to his cheek. ricky grumbles a little before getting back up, running his hand through your hair gently one last time. “i have to go back now but i’m ordering you some soup to your dorm later. you’re on bedrest for the next few days, you hear me?” he tries to sound stern again and puts on his best serious face, but his façade is broken when you smile up at him so tiredly, the exhaustion clear on your face.

“thank you, i love you,” you call after him when he turns to leave, ricky sending you a flying kiss before leaving the room, “love you too.”

(your fourth wave of regret came when you realised ricky formed an alliance with your members, all of them exchanging “y/n intel” to make sure all of them can keep an eye on you while you’re recovering.)

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itsphoenix0724 · 8 months

Text

Promises Pt 2 (Rhysand x Reader)

Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from. But, you can certainly try.

Part 1

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Hi loves! Thank you for all the love on Promises! I'm so so happy everyone liked it, and I got a lot of really positive feedback and interactions! Here is the awaited part 2! I hope you all enjoy where I've decided to take it and the ending! As always constructive criticism is welcome!

You found Mor when you arrived at Athelwood. You had reached out to her mind to mind and she came right away. You spent an hour crying collapsed in her arms cursing the world, the mother, the cauldron, and your husband.

You didn’t leave your bed for another two weeks.

Mor tried to convince you to eat, but you rejected the offer every time. All you did was stare grimly between the gap in the curtains.

Mate. One word, four letters. Who knew such a small word could rip your heart to shreds?

You couldn’t stop replaying your argument with Rhys over and over. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.” and “It's just more complicated” rattled against the walls of your brain like a twisted symphony. You could only shut your eyes and turn away from the dying sun to try to drown out the noise.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Night Court was in absolute shambles. It had only been a few weeks, but Rhys quickly realized how greatly the absence of his queen was felt across the entire territory.

After his return from Amarantha’s rule, you had shouldered the majority of the workload to give him time to recover. Theoretically, it made sense. He was out of practice and you had been ruling the court for 49 years by yourself. However, he was just now realizing how out of practice he was.

Rhys had never been a particularly good diplomat.

He was a good leader and a fantastic battle strategist, but he needed more patience for paperwork and meetings.

You always did say he could win a war before he understood the workings of city planning.

Now, there was a pile of letters on his desk asking him when the services the Queen had usually provided were going to resume.

He didn’t realize how much you did daily. How much improvement you made over almost 50 years of ruling by yourself.

You had established a grief counseling service for the war, there was a refugee center you helped run for Illyrian women who needed shelter, and you and Cassian even made biweekly visits to almost all of the Illyrian Camps to ensure they were upholding the new laws about wing clipping. You were even fielding talks with Keir in the Court of Nightmares.

You always did hate the way Rhys chose to handle that.

It was the way his father had taught him and his grandfather had taught his father, and even though you hated Keir, you hated seeing the rest of the court punished.

You had established an exchange program of sorts. Apparently, you had allowed a select few merchants to come to Velaris almost monthly to sell their goods, and you had a group of 20 children that would come attend schools in the City of Starlight. The work kept piling up, he had so many letters marked urgent on his desk that he was starting to go cross-eyed.

The only thing that he could think of was that he failed you. He failed his court, and there was nothing but deep unsettling loneliness clawing its way through his ribcage and straight into his heart. The only thing he had been trying to do was reach you. He had been trying to talk to you through your mind but he was met with cool obsidian walls banning him from entry.

Then, there was the matter of the unanswered mating bond pulling in his chest.

He never wanted Feyre. At least not in the same way he wanted you.

He never intended to accept the bond, but he wanted to help her. She had brought him back to his family. To his Queen. He refused to let her waste away in Spring. He thought he could use the mating bond as an excuse to get her away from Tamlin, and once she was settled he could break it off and set her free.

He had made the stupid mistake of not being honest with you in the first place.

He didn’t want you to scent the mating bond and get the wrong idea, so he stayed away for the week until he could finalize his plan.

Instead, he made the mistake of not telling you and it seemed like he was having an affair.

It had been a fair assumption to make, given his piss-poor excuse for an explanation, but the thought of being with another person made him sick to his stomach. Running his fingers over the band of your ring he knew he had to fix this.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You distantly felt Mor sit down on the bed. A soft caring hand brushes through your hair as she calls your name softly. You turn, and blink up at her with weary eyes.

She sends you a sad tight-lipped smile before telling you why she disturbed your hibernation.

“We need your help.” She says it so softly you almost don’t hear her, “Please. The Court is running itself into the ground. Your people need you,” she pauses again like she doesn’t know if she should say what comes next. “Rhys needs you.” You bury your head back into the pillow and allow yourself to relish in the darkness a minute longer.

“Winnow us to the House, and then give me an hour.” Mor’s face lights up with a blazing victory as she reaches out to grab your hands, and then deposits you in the Oueen Suite at the house of wind.

You flinch at the bright light and want nothing more than to crawl back into bed and wallow in the crushing sadness.

But you are Queen of the Night Court, and you made an oath to your people before anything else.

You refuse to let them be punished for the mistakes of their stupid High Lord.

The House had run you a bath, and you sink into the boiling water trying to scrub away the remains of the previous two weeks. Once you’re done you sit down at the vanity in your room and go through the motions. You brush your hair, apply some makeup, and put on all the pieces of jewelry that mean the most to you like armor.

It feels like you’re suiting up for battle to go see your husband. The floor-length black slip you chose might as well have been made of steel.

You do your best to pointedly ignore your bare ring finger.

You stare at the crown you never quite thought you were worthy of. Of course, the cauldron would make Feyre Rhys’s Mate. She was the curse-breaker and Rhys was the most powerful High Lord in history.

What were you?

You push the negative thoughts away and rest the crown on your head. You need to focus on your people. They were the important factor here. You stand up and find Mor in the hall, She looks over you with immense approval before winnowing you down to Velaris.

You walk around the city before you face Rhys at the townhouse.

You visit your favorite bakery, you visit all of your charities, and you walk along the Sidra greeting the townspeople as you pass. It fills you with renewed vigor as they greet you with their warm smiles. It makes you feel like you deserve to be here.

This is your city, nothing can take you from it.

The door to the townhouse opens for you, and the first thing you smell is the stench of old wine. You wander through the house and find that Rhys hasn’t moved any of the things you made in the kitchen before you left. You found Rhys leaning over his desk. He must be out of it because he doesn’t hear your approach.

He looks tense, the muscles in his back are as taught as a bowstring. His hair looks run-through and ragged even from behind, and you bet if he turned around there would be dark purple half-moons under his eyes.

You clear your throat and Rhy’s head shoots around to look at you. You’re expecting anger, regret, and maybe even resentment to reflect in his eyes. The only thing you see looking back at you is palpable remorse. He pushes back from his desk so hard that his chair knocks over. He rushes over to you and looks like he’s going to wrap you in his arms, but he drops them at the last second. Rhy is staring at you like he doesn’t believe you’re real and his violet eyes have taken on a glassy tint.

“Hi,” you mumble carefully, not quite sure if you’ll spook him into triggering another argument. You not knowing how to act around your husband is an unpleasant foreign feeling. Rhys clears his throat and lets out a teary sort of laugh

“Hello my darling,” he tries to smile and fiddles with his hands in a way that is so uncharacteristically like Rhysand it makes your heart lurch for him in your chest. “I’m assuming there’s a lot you want to talk to me about.” You nod and Rhys casts his eyes downward before he nods at you in encouragement.

“Do you want a divorce?” It’s the first thing you blurt out, but you’re not sure if you want to know the answer. You have to know, you need to know before you can continue on further. If Rhysand was going to rip out your heart again you’d rather him just get it over with already. Instead, he looks up at you with the most alarmed look on his face you’ve ever seen, and he reaches out to grab your hands in his.

He opens his mouth and then closes it again before he drops to his knees before you.

“No love, I do not want a divorce. I never want to be separated from you ever again,” He presses kisses into your knuckles “Please, let me explain myself.” He looks up at you in permission and you give a subtle tip of your head. “I never wanted Feyre. Ever. I only needed the mating bond to help save her. I was always going to reject the bond after she was safe.” You hesitate, and he can see the trepidation in your eyes. “Please believe me,” Silver lined the bottom of his violet eyes

“But why,” your voice cracked, and the sobs you’ve held in through you’re entire time apart came rushing out of your chest like hot lava. “The cauldron gave you a mate that matches your power. I’m just me. I’m nothing.” Rhys rises from his knees and holds your face in his hands.

Claiming and steady so he can soothe your sobs.

“Damn the cauldron. I love you to the end of this earth, and the next earth beyond it. I made mistakes, and I handled this situation completely the wrong way. I am so sorry Darling. I am lost without you, when you’re not here I am missing half my heart. Please, come home.” Another sob bubbles up from your throat and your husband pulls you against him, rubbing soothing circles into your back and apologies into the crook of your neck. Once you both calmed down he pulls back from you and offers you your ring. The sight almost makes another sob bubble in your throat. “Well? Could you forgive me?”

You nod and Rhy’s whole body almost sags in relief at your words as he slips the sapphire back onto your finger. It’s like a void in your soul has been filled.

You and Rhys certainly still have a lot to talk about and a lot to work on, but you know you’ll do it together.

Just like you always have.

“So, I heard the Court is falling to pieces without me?” You look back at Rhys’s desk in question and he sends you a guilty look in return. He scoops you up in his arms, despite your shout of protest, and starts walking you toward your shared bedroom.

“Love you don’t even know how lost I am without you, but we can get to that after I’m done thoroughly apologizing to my Queen.” His voice sends a shiver of dark promise down your spine, and you have the settled feeling in your stomach that everything will turn out just fine.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #rhysand x reader #rhysand imagine #rhys x reader #rhys acotar

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rosequarzo · 23 days

Note

HIII can i ask for an aventurine, havinf a co-workers to lovers trope with reader?? (reader is friends with topaz or smth then met aventurine)

THANK YOU SM

- Sincerely, 🥀 anon

under the stars: falling for courage.

૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა • ! aventurine + reader reader is gender-neutral co-workers to lovers trope (implied at the end) ☆ warning not proofread aventurine nearly got called a wh*re but that's all . . . !? & 1027 — catalogue

note. hi 🥀 anon, thank you for sending in your request! i had fun writing this and this got dragged to 1k words whoops... tagging @neuvistar and @rninies

Aventurine still remembers his first encounter with you, like it had been permanently imprinted in his mind. He vividly remembers how you weren’t intimidated by his presence, like he was nothing more than another co-worker to you. He vividly remembers how you made a snarky comment about his arrogance; to which you received a harsh nudge from Topaz for your comment. He vividly remembers him shaking it off your comment, assuring the other it was fine. He vividly remembers him shaking his hand with yours and he couldn’t forget how your hands fit perfectly with his.

Long story short, the reason why you were recruited to join the IPC was due to your family relationship with them. According to Topaz, your family has been a long-term business partner with the IPC and it was only right for you to join them.

The gambler merely rolled his eyes but remained silent, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his fellow colleague. He had seen how close you and Topaz were, which wasn’t a surprise considering how you knew one another for a while now.

You were assigned to him with the role of being his personal assistant. Aventurine wasn’t exactly satisfied with that since he had been managing himself well just fine. The last thing he needs is someone else to budge their way into his life. But as much as he hates to admit it, you were doing great. Whatever tasks he gave you were completed in no time and what’s more surprising was the high quality from your completed tasks. You were efficient and have all the positive qualities one would expect from an assistant.

You had so many strengths that Aventurine was curious: do you even have any weaknesses?

As time passed, something shifted between the two of you. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but the calm before the storm took place during a formal event where his presence was highly requested. And who was he to say no to free drinks and food? Being the nice boss he is, he brought you along, stating how it’s important to maintain and create new connections here and there.

Things were going well at first. You remained by his side, lips sealed shut as you listened attentively to his conversations with strangers who seemed to recognize him.

But Aventurine finds himself in a dilemma. He just can’t seem to focus on what the other party was saying. It was like most of their words flew past his head and he was having difficulty trying to maintain the conversation. The reason for his current situation was none other than you. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. Even if he were to stand in the furthest corner of the room, his eyes will always trail back to you, like you were the center of his world.

“Hey there, you look bored. Do you perhaps want to grab a drink and get out of here?”

An unfamiliar voice snapped him out of his daze. Aventurine’s eyes darkened at the sight of someone having the audacity to flirt with you. He wasn’t aware of how his grip instinctively tightened on the half-empty glass of champagne. He didn’t bother excusing himself from the conversation, wasting no time to move to your side. To his mild amusement, you didn’t spare the poor stranger a glance, choosing to boredly stir the full glass of white wine held in your right hand.

“Ah, there you are, darling. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Is someone bothering you?” He announced his approaching entrance, planting himself beside you and flashed you a charismatic and sweet smile.

You arched an eyebrow at the sudden pet name, ready to question him but was interrupted by an unwanted presence.

“Tch, who do you think you are, you’re nothing more than a lowly wh-”

They didn’t get to finish their sentence when you abruptly tossed your drink at them. Aventurine was dumbfounded for a moment, for he has not seen you this furious before. Your face flushed with a wave of anger, eyes narrowing into sharp slits as you glared at the stranger, seething with rage. Your hand clenched tightly around your now empty glass of drink and Aventurine was certain you would have tossed it at him too, if the circumstances were different.

“What was that for!?” They snapped, wiping the liquid away with their hand and directed their anger at you.

“That was for stepping over the line. I’ll have you know that I don’t tolerate people who speak negatively about my boss,” you replied, trying your best to maintain your composure.

They sneered. “It’s not like I was wrong, but whatever. Now that I think about it, you aren’t worth it.”

And just like that, they walked off. The small crowd that was initially observing the commotion gradually vanished, as they returned to what they were doing previously. A heavy sigh escaped your lips and it was only then did you catch Aventurine’s eyes. The expression on his face was unreadable but you didn’t think much of it, waving your hand in front of his face.

“Hello? Are you still there?” You asked.

“Hm? Oh, don’t worry. But that was quite a show you put out there. I might think you’re into me,” he teased, a poor attempt to ignore how his heart was rapidly pounding against his chest now.

“...Shut up, Aventurine. We should get going,” you muttered, not sparing him another glance and hurriedly walked off.

If Aventurine was slower by two seconds, he would have missed the way your ears turned red. He would have missed the way your shoulders tensed at his last sentence. The gambler blinks but obediently follows you; like your positions had been switched; with him behind you instead of the usual.

He coughs, covering the bottom half of his face with his gloved left hand. His eyes averted to the side but somehow, he kept peering at you from the corner of his eyes, focused on your figure.

Huh, I wonder why am I feeling like this?

#୨୧ magazine articles #honkai star rail #star rail imagines #star rail x reader #aventurine imagines #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #aventurine fluff

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moremaybank · 4 months

Text

HOME THIS CHRISTMAS — j.m

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader prompt: "i thought you were going home for christmas?" - "well, i couldn't leave you all alone." requested: here (ty @drewstarkeyslut) warnings: none naughty or nice ! ౨ৎ

When you first told JJ that you had to fly back home to visit your parents for the holidays, you could see the sorrow in his eyes. He tried his hardest not to let it show, throwing on the best smile he could and saying “That’s great, baby. I know you miss ‘em. I bet they’re thrilled.”

What he really wanted to do was get on his knees, loop his arms around your legs like a child and beg and plead for you not to leave him. He couldn’t help it. Most of the time growing up, he’d duck out of his house, not too eager to spend quality time with Luke. Quality time in which Luke would spend being wasted out of his mind and souring the mood. John B always had Big John to celebrate with, and now he has Sarah. Kie would stay with her parents and possibly do something at The Wreck to give back during the festive season, and Pope would spend it with his parents as well.

It’s not like they tried to leave JJ out. That’s just what ended up happening every year.

But now that the two of you were together, he hoped that he’d finally get to experience Christmas with someone he loved.

Too bad the odds just weren’t in his favour.

He moped, albeit internally (though you knew him far too well to believe that he was happy, or even simply okay). With the date of your departure rapidly approaching, he grew even more defeated. When you asked him about it, he knew he couldn’t lie to you. But he would just say that he was going to miss you. That he’d been excited to start new holiday traditions with you, but you won’t have the opportunity to do so. And while you argued that you could still do everything he’d planned out before and after you returned, you understood where he was coming from.

It wouldn’t be the same.

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t want you to worry about me. I get you all to myself for the majority of the year, you should be able to go visit your family without feeling guilty.”

Your hands rub a path up and down his brawny arms. “You know, no matter how many times you say not to worry, I still will.”

He smiles, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “‘N I love you for that, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let your guilt hold you back. You’re goin’.”

And that was that.

Or, at least, that’s what JJ thought.

When JJ woke up on the twenty-third of December, the bed was cold and empty. There was no one scratching his back, kissing up the length of his spine and playing with his hair. No one whispered how pretty he looked as he slept, how tan he was in contrast with the white cotton sheets embracing him.

His shower was even lonelier than the wake-up had been. Still, he forced himself to continue with his morning routine before begrudgingly getting himself to work. JJ never enjoyed work, but now that he couldn’t look forward to your daily visit…let’s just say he was no longer the ray of sunshine he always was in your company.

The day dragged on, possibly the slowest he’d ever experienced. He waited for a text or call from you to ensure that you’d reached your destination with all your precious limbs intact. But hours went by, and he hadn’t heard from you. Worry bubbled in his chest, but he just told himself that you were reuniting with everyone, and you couldn’t find a second to pull yourself away from them.

Meanwhile, you were running around ordering all of JJ’s favourite foods, buying matching pyjama sets and decorating your apartment. You hadn’t bothered to do so earlier since you were planning on being away, and truthfully, you didn’t want JJ to be surrounded by all the reminders of why you weren’t there.

In hindsight, maybe it would’ve been better to make it homey for him. Especially now that you were on a massive time crunch.

When you were done, you shot JJ a quick message.

Hi, baby. Miss you. There’s a surprise waiting for you when you get home. I hope you like it ♡︎

Though he would’ve loved to hear your voice, joy washed over him once he read your message. You were so good to him. You had a habit of acting like a madman every time you had to travel, and in between freaking out the way he knew you were, you took the time out of your busy schedule to brighten up his day.

The drive home felt far too long. He wished for nothing more than to shower, crack open a few beers and chill. Smoke so he could fall asleep without you.

On another note, his curiosity also ate away at him. He wondered what his crazy girl had left behind for him.

He stepped inside your shared place, noticing a cast of light coming from the next room. Shit, he thought, she’s gonna kill me if I left the lights on again. But when he reached the room, there you were, wearing red plaid pyjamas and fuzzy socks, standing next to a large pile of presents in front of your brand-new pine tree.

“What…What are you doin’ here? I thought you were goin’ home for Christmas?”

You crossed the room, looping your arms around his back and looking up at him. You watched his blue eyes sparkle in the light.

He’d never looked so delighted. Relieved.

“Well, I couldn’t leave you all alone.”

“But, what about your family? They’re expectin’ you,” he spoke, though he pulled you into him further. “What if they hate me for making you stay here?”

Your head tilted, and your heart melted. He was so disappointed by the thought of having to spend Christmas by himself again, but the first thing that popped into his mind at the sight of you was the idea of your family being upset with him.

He was too sweet for his own good.

“You didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to stay. It wouldn’t have been Christmas without you. As for my family — who do not hate you, by the way — they’re coming down in a few days. And they can’t wait to meet the boy who makes me happy.”

He didn’t even respond. Not verbally, anyway. He simply gave you a shining grin, cupped your face and kissed the life out of you.

Oh, yeah. Best decision ever.

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churipu · 4 months

Note

hii ive been obsessed with your work lately and I hope ur doing well! make sure not to overwork yourself!! Anyways can u make a nanami headcanon where s/o comes home late because she’s working overtime but forgets to tell him?

COMING HOME LATE TO NANAMI ₊˚⊹

featuring. nanami kento x reader

warnings. none

note. haiii nonniee, thank you so much for appreciating my works. it means so much to me <33 i'm sorry this one took so long and i hope you like it, mwah mwah

i feel like in the relationship, nanami tries to talk you to quit your job before — but you felt like it was kind of unfair if he had to use his money to support you, so you always managed to decline that. even if the male was a bit disappointed at your decision, he didn't want to force you, so he lets you be.

you didn't have a cursed energy; a non-sorcerer. unlike him, you had a simple job of making coffees, alias a barista. the income was not too much, but still enough for the both of you (although nanami always ends up paying for your stuff because he insists).

the job wasn't too tiring, however today was a bit different — the store had gotten a rush hour in the afternoon, not that you were complaining about it as you signed up for the job anyways. and a co-worker had asked you to cover their shift because they had an family emergency.

really, you didn't mind covering for them at all. you were getting an extra for that and it counts — just it meant that you were going to be the closing shift for today, and everyone knows closing up meant it would be a lot of work; especially with the washing, cleaning up, mopping the floors, the coffee machines, everything.

you ended up closing the shop late at night, rushing to your shared apartment with nanami. opening the door in exhaustion, calling out a tired, "i'm home."

"y/n?" nanami appears from the corner, rushing towards you and then cupping your face.

in confusion you blinked at him, wondering what the hell was happening and why was he acting like this?

"you never texted or answered my calls, i was worried," he mumbles out, and it finally dawned upon you that during your shift — it was too busy that you hadn't managed to get to your phone at all. and it was on silent too.

"i'm sorry, baby. i had to cover up for my co-worker's shift, it was my mistake for not telling you," you smiled at him, planting a kiss on his lips.

nanami shook his head, "it's alright, please inform me next time," he kissed your forehead before pulling you into a tight hug, "how was work?"

"you won't believe how busy it is today, surprising. but it was fun, and i'm getting extra paycheck for covering my co-worker's shift!" you marveled out happily, and he gazes down at you fondly, kissing the crown of your head.

"i'm glad then," he mumbles out to you, "if i tell you to stop—"

"still a no from me," you kicked your shoes off and walked towards the living room, sparing him a cheeky smile, "i like working, plus, it's not fair that you have to waste your money for my livings too."

nanami heaves out a sigh, "my money is your money."

but he didn't push on, what mattered is that you enjoy working. nanami will undoubtedly still pay for your things, telling you that you should just save your paychecks incase he goes broke (which will never happen).

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #jjk fluff #nanami kento #nanami #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #i love nanami #bye i miss nanami

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aloesarchives · 3 months

Text

Valentine's Day Special(JJK One shot)

Warnings: None other than Female Reader, and Domesticity with Toji, Megumi, and Tsumiki

Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader

Wanted to write something for Valentine's Day. So I wrote one for Toji, I may or may not write one for Satoru but we'll see.

Man has never done shopping for anyone before in his entire life. Now it’s Valentine’s Day and he has gotten nothing for you…yet. Well, Toji is trying to think of something but the problem isn’t that he couldn’t afford it… Toji hasn’t didn’t know what to get you because you never ask. You were appreciative of his gifts and gestures but never dropped any hints for anything.

“Toji, Honey, the best gift you gave me is this life with you, Megumi, and Tsumiki. I don’t think there could be any better gift for me than that.”

God, you were the sweetest, loving, and humbling wife to him. He wonders every day why the hell you chose him out of everyone you could have. But that’s the thing, you never wanted anything else no matter how much he pressed you on. And everytime it’s the same answer. Toji has looked at your phone, pinterest boards, instagram likes, anything you saved in any carts on your favorite websites, photos/screenshots.

Nothing

It frustrated him that he was having a difficult time. He is your husband and the father of your two children who take after you. He was supposed to know your interests, hobbies, and likes. And yet nothing was coming to him. You said you already have everything and don’t buy something for yourself unless you need it and/or use it often. Sometimes reprimanding Toji for buying you things when he should be saving money. Toji knows you’re working overtime today and won't be home until 6:30pm. He has until then to get you something. Walking along streets of Tokyo, he sees the storefronts littered with red, white, and pink. Bakery displays filled with heart shaped pastries and desserts. Toji’s mind was drawing blank, nothing seemed to spark an idea in him. He wanted to get you something because you are and deserve the best, the best thing to ever happen to him. He knows he’s not the ideal man when you both got together but he changed for you. Bringing the world’s end if you simply asked him.

With a frustrated huff, he rubs his forehead. Now seeing himself as the number one most disappointing husband ever. He was tempted to call your friend to ask what he should get you when something caught his eye. Stopping in his tracks, he stares at the window of a jewelry store. Particularly, he was staring at one of their displays which laid a sterling silver necklace with a heart-shape locket. It was both simple yet beautiful. The longer he stares, the image of you wearing it becomes stronger. You would look so perfect wearing it that became you will look perfect wearing it. Toji goes to buy it and the lady helping him asks what photo he wanted to put inside. He immediately pulls up the one he wants, sending it for her. She smiled and said it would take a couple of minutes to get the necklace ready. So Toji wastes no time using that to get your favorite flowers and any baked goods. Coming back, the necklace was ready and he paid it off immediately. Silently thanking Shui for getting him a good cheek from his last assignment.

He briskly makes his way to pick up Tsumiki and Megumi from school where they had their own gifts for you. As soon as they all got home, Toji starts cooking dinner while the kiddos help put the flowers in your favorite vase. On the dot, you got home at 6:30pm. You make your presence known, albeit exhaustedly. The rapid footsteps your way makes you smile as your children rush in to give you a hug. You gently hugged them back before they started pulling towards the kitchen. A soft chuckle left you while watching Megumi and Tsumiki force you to hurry up.

“Hey, Hey~ What is it you two want me to see? Mama is right behind you– What’s this, Toji?”

There was more food on the table than your usual family dinner. Your husband just smirks at you while Megumi pulls your designated chair out for you. You thanked your son with a kiss to his forehead before he sat next to Tsumiki.

“Just a little something for Valentine’s Day, (Y/N). Wanted to treat you since you worked late.” Toji said with soft eyes, tenderly kissing your cheek.

As always, the food was exquisite and tasted like love was poured into it. The kids ate their dinner fast, confusing you as they scurry off after cleaning up after themselves. When they come back, a loving smile spreads across your lips. Hand placed over your heart as you coo at the sight. Tsumiki was bringing the vase with your favorite flowers while Megumi brought their gifts for you.

“What do we have here? Did you two pick these out with Papa?”

They lightly shook their heads as you placed the vase at the table’s center.

“No, only Papa did. But Megumi and I made these for you, Mama! You can open them!” Tsumiki excitingly with his signature bright smile.

You move towards the couch with the kids as they give your gifts to them. Taking this opportunity, Toji slips away to get his. He sneaks up on you as his towering frame blocks the room’s light. Toji gets on one knee in front of you as he hands you a red bag. Curiously, you take it from him and retrieve the small velvet box from inside. Tsumiki and Megumi lean in to see what it is once you open it, hearing a small gasp from you. The necklace was simple and seemingly plain but it was demure. Taking it out, you let it hang before noticing the small hedges on the side. Your fingers swiftly opened the locket and what’s inside made your heart melt.

Inside was a family picture of your small family. Everyone was smiling, including your husband. It was one of your favorite pictures because of that. Next to it were words engraved into the inside of the half of the locket. Once you read what’s engraved, tears started to trickle down. The words that brought you to tears:

“Thank you for loving me and being you” ~Toji

You looked up at him with love and appreciation, eyes softening seeing him deflate while taking your hands gently into his. His eyes were unwavering but sincere, already telling you everything you needed to know.

“I know you never ask for much, (Y/N). But I couldn’t help but get it for you. I’m god awful when it comes to words and I’m not the perfect man by any means. But I’m the man you chose to give your heart to and I will bring the Heavens down if you tell me to do so. All because I love you, (Y/N). I’m your husband, I’m all yours, Dear. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You knew Toji wasn’t the most open man or prince charming by any means. But he was loyal, dedicated, supportive, and endearing. He was a loving husband and father to you and your children, a blessing you were grateful for every day because he gave you this opportunity and you were living it out. For him to speak his heart and leave it vulnerable for you, he really does love and trust you dearly. That’s why you never wanted to ask him for gifts or anything because Toji was a gift to you by some divine intervention.

You launch yourself at Toji, causing him to fall on his back. Wrapping your arms around his neck tightly was all Toji needed to get your answer. He lays there with you in his arms before Megumi and Tsumiki decide to make it a family pile. The kids giggle as he captures them with his strong arms, sitting upright bringing you with him. The kids look in awe at your necklace with Megumi happily commenting that he and Tsumiki are also in there. While the kids are excitingly distracted, you look up at Toji and caress his cheek. Gently tracing over his small scar with your thumb.

“I love you, Toji.”

He gives a soft smile and leans into your touch while grasping your hand with his own.

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

And this is one of many Valentine’s Days to come where you were more than willing to let Toji indulge and spoil you. Every one of them is always wonderful because Toji gets to spend it with the woman he gave his heart to and you are reminded your best gift you ever got was Toji himself.

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