#but it never did. so I walked away. and instead of him manning up and doing something about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrm0rgansw0man · 3 days

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Hii can I please have a scene with Arthur Morgan and his fem s/o in an alternate universe where Arthur never got TB and he is happily married living with his wife on a cosy farm similar to the marstons. They have just had a newborn daughter and she is only a few days old and Arthur sees his wife picking up their newborn, still in shock from giving birth just days prior. She is cuddling and sweet talking her baby, gently kissing her head and loving her. She coos and gently but sweetly whispers good morning to her baby girl. I just want Arthur’s reaction to this and how he reacts to all the fluff plus him being a new father. Can you please end it with fem reader putting their child back in the crib and making their way to the living room, relaxing on the sofa together and talking about how they should visit the marstons soon. Thank you 💞💞💞💞💞💞

The Life a Good Man Deserves

Has it really been only a week since I watched her walk along the tree line of the forest near our home, soaking in the sun, glowing like a god damn angel? She was pregnant as could be, but she wanted to take one last walk before we took our first walk with our baby girl.

And a few days later, she was here. God was it hard, watchin' my wife hurt like that. Her screams and all the blood... it left me shakin' like a leaf. I've never felt so scared in my life I don't think. We didn't have a doctor or a nurse or anythin', but we had Charles and a forest only a few yards away. Thank whatever lord there was above that he had stopped by that morning, and right as he was about to leave I heard my wife screamin' for me from our bedroom. We both came running, and that was the start of the longest night of my life.

Charles made a million different remedies on the stove of our kitchen. For pain, for infection, any complications my wife or our little girl could have after birth. All the while I was holding my wife's hand as she brought our baby-girl into the world, how crazy life is sometimes.

We named her 'Briar-Rose.' Right after she was born, my wife looked out the window and saw the ones we had planted had finally bloomed. We'd have horrible luck with them before, so it seemed perfect.

I ought to go find them now, instead of just sittin' her day dreaming about the family that I finally have. God, I love them so much.

• • • • • • •

Arthur set his leather journal down on his bedside table, the matching ones he made for the two of you for your first anniversary you spent together in your home. The one he had built for you, with the help of Charles and John. Oh and little Jack of course, he did so much!

Arthur got up and slipped on a pair of worn old jeans and his favorite blue button up shirt. How it had survived all these years, he didn't know.

How he had survived all these years, he didn't know either.

Arthur quietly made his way to the nursery. It was right next to the bedroom the two of you shared, and the door was cracked open. There was no other place you could be. Arthur was about to walk in, but he stopped when he heard you talking to your daughter. He watched through the crack of the door, completely mesmerized.

Your hair was in a messy braid down your back, and you wore a long flowing white nightgown. It was long sleeved, and the strings around your bosom area were tied into a pretty bow. The sleeves, which had forever been too long for your arms but you refused to mend time, rested around your whole hand, only leaving your fingers sticking out. Arthur could see them sticking out under your coat and laughed to himself. He loved these little things about you, and he had them all written down in his journal.

Your coat, which was actually the brown plaid one that belonged to Abigail, also hung loosely around you with your nightgown. He smiled as he remembered both you and Abigail trading your favorite coats. John and Arthur had both been talking and they decided it was time to leave the gang, it wasn't an easy decision but a necessary one. You and Abigail were two peas in a pod, like sisters almost. You had both decided you needed to do something to always stay together now that you wouldn't be able to see each other everyday.

A small cry from your daughter pulled him from his thoughts.

"Oh my sweet girl, shh shh." You cooed softly, you picked up your daughter from her crib and cradled her in your arms. Holding her close and tight. You pressed a gentle kiss on your daughters head, and she calmed. You rocked her back and fourth and started talking to her.

"How'd my baby sleep? Did you sleep well?" You asked, your tone so gentle and full of love Arthur thought he could cry. You were the perfect mother. "I love you, so much my sweet girl. Your so beautiful. You've got your daddy in you, those stunning blue eyes and that hair of yours. I can't wait to watch you grow up."

Arthur couldn't take it, tears fell freely from his eyes and he opened the door of his daughters room and actually ran to you. He held you close to him, careful to not hurt your stomach.

"Oh Arthur, are you alright?" You said with a light laugh, though your voice was laced with concern.

"Honey, I have never been more alright in my life." He said shakily. His quiet voice held so much emotion it broke your heart.

When Arthur first found out you were pregnant, he was angry. Not at you, and certainly not at your unborn child. He was angry at himself, how could he be so stupid? Getting another woman pregnant, while still being in the gang? Which was definitely going to shit, by the way. Arthur could feel it happening. His heart actually hurt when he thought about Eliza and Issac, how his stupidity had gotten them killed. His little boy, and the woman he never married but god damn he should've, both dead over 10 dollars. 10. Fucking. Dollars. If he had been there, those bastards would've been dead in a second! He was a gunslinger for fucks sake! He could've saved them if he had just done right. But he was so scared to be a father, especially to a son. He didn't want to turn into his own father. He wouldn't wish that on anyone. But once a certain Karen Jones dragged him by the ear to the hiding spot you had found to cry in telling him to "fix it" he knew what he had to do. And it wasn't easy.

He held you in his arms, and apologized for every second he made you think or feel like he didn't want you or the child growing inside you. He said he had a plan, and it was the first time since joining the gang that you were relieved to hear those words.

"Arthur?"

Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. Arthur pulled away from you so he could get a better look

"Would you like to hold your daughter Mr. Morgan?" You asked with a smile just as sweet as your southern drawl.

"Yes I would, Mrs. Morgan." He said with a smile, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. He ever so carefully took his daughter into his arms. She fussed for a moment, before quickly settling back down again.

"I can't believe I'm a daddy..." Arthur said softly. "Look at my sweet girl... Both of my sweet girls."

You stood on your tip toes and kissed Arthur on the cheek, and you bent back down to kiss your daughter. You winced straightening back up.

"Sit down, please honey." Arthur said gently. "You just had a baby after all."

"'M fine sweetheart." You dismissed. "I need to get the best view possible of this.."

A sudden sharp cry erupted from your daughter, causing both you and Arthur to laugh.

"Still a view I want to see." You said with a smile. Arthur passed Briar off to you, and she quieted down a bit.

"Ain't nothin' like the touch of a mother." Arthur said softly, gently wrapping his arms around your stomach. With your body flush against his, he rested his chin on top of your head. You chuckled.

"You should sing her a lullaby. Arthur suggested. You chuckled, knowing he'd use any excuse to hear you sing. You took a breathe, and began a gentle lullaby:

Down in the valley, valley so low Hang your head over, hear the wind blow Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow Hang your head over, hear the wind blow.

Roses love sunshine, violets love dew Angels in heaven know I love you Know I love you, dear, know I love you Angels in heaven, know I love you.

Writing this letter, containing three lines Answer my question, "Will you be mine?" "Will you be mine, dear, will you be mine?" Answer my question, "Will you be mine?"

Down in the valley, valley so low Hang your head over, hear the wind blow Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow Hang your head over, hear the wind blow.

You finished the song, and were now left with a sleeping daughter and a husband who was weeping. The sight of it brought tears to your own eyes.

"I just watched my wife sing my daughter to sleep for the first time.." Arthur wept. "Look at me, I'm a god damn mess. God I love you so much, I love her so much- (Name), this is real. This is our life."

"I can't belive it either!" You said with a sniffle. "Let me put her in her cradle before we wake her up."

Arthur nodded, sneaking a quick kiss to your forehead before heading to the door. Arthur was about to leave, but something told him to stay a moment longer. He turned just in time to see you tenderly set your daughter down in her crib and cover her up with her blanket which you had sewn by hand for her. You kissed your daughter one last time before joining Arthur.

As soon as you were in arms reach, Arthur scooped you up and carried you bridal style right into the living room. You giggled like some lovesick schoolgirl, causing Arthur to giggle too.

"Nothin but laughter and tears of joy in this house." You said happily. "That's exactly how I wanna be livin'!"

"Me too darlin!" Arthur said, gently setting you down on the sofa. He sat down right next to you and opened his arms, which you gladly crawled into. With your head resting in the crook of his neck and your legs curled up in his lap, you felt so safe. And so loved, you swore Arthur Morgan was sent from the lord above just for you.

"When do you think you'll be up for a trip to go see Abigail?" Arthur said, a sly smile on his face.

You gasped in excitment. "Oh goodness, is the house done already!? Did John invite you?"

"Yes ma'am! And guess what else darlin'?" Arthur said with a laugh. Your excitement was contagious, anyone could agree to that. "They made us a nursery for Briar-Rose."

Your eyes welled up with tears and you covered your mouth with your hand.

"Your kiddin' me..." You said softly, a smile slowly forming on your face.

"They really did honey." Arthur said and smiled softly at you. "Abigail wrote to me. I got the letter the night I went to town right before you had Briar. Said the house is done and we need to come visit as soon as you feel up to it after you have the baby."

"I don't know how soon, but I can't wait to go! Oh Arthur I miss her so much.." You said sadly. "I'm gonna write her back! We'll plan a visit next month...." You said, but your words trailed off into a yawn.

"Sounds good t'me baby." Arthur said, his hand natrually finding your hair to begin running his fingers through it. It put you to sleep faster then you'd like to admit.

Arthur let out a content sigh. He had never dared even daydream of a life like this for too long, yet here he was. Actually living the life of his dreams. With his wife, daughter, and even his 'brother'.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

authors note: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED CAUSE I LITERALLY HAD THE BEST TIME WRITING THISSS Xx

#x reader #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfiction #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan is a sweetheart #arthur morgan fluff #dad arthur morgan #arthur morgan as a father #rdr2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan #tooth rotting fluff #thanks for the submission!#reader is an amazing mother #arthur is an amazing father #briar rose morgan

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anifever · 2 days

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Dating Darry Curtis HC’s ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Darrel “Darry” Curtis x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : What I think dating ‘Superman’ would include

A/N : I’ve been busy but school’s out now so hopefully I can work on requests 💔. Also ily Jake Gyllenhaal but they should’ve never remade Roadhouse..

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🕊️ ˚₊‧⁺˖

୨ I hate to say it (not really), but you’re like a married couple

୨ The gang calls you mom and dad as a joke

୨ You guys are so sitting on a porch with wind chimes and birds chirping in the bg and the warmth of the sun hitting your skin coded

୨ You’re so disgustingly in love and it makes everyone sick

୨ I feel like bcs of how he’s portrayed and the responsibilities/stress he takes on from the entire gang, it makes him seem way older than he is

୨ That’s also probably due to Patrick Swayze being 31 instead of 20 while filming and also being 15 years older than C Thomas Howell irl instead of the 6 year age gap their characters actually had…

୨ Anyways, you help him actually act more his age

୨ You convince him to go out more, etc

୨ Everyone’s happy to see him let loose once in a while

୨ Like you guys mess around when you bake/cook together by throwing flour at each other and giggling omg I’m vomiting

୨ You guys are sometimes (very rarely) even spotted at Buck’s together and Dallas has to do a double take

୨ You also bribe the boys to give you guys or just him in general some alone time LMAO

୨ You absolutely slow dance in the kitchen. Idc.

୨ He’s the type to call you “a real treat” when you dress up or do something nice for him

୨ Going shopping together and him walking around with his lil’ glasses reading the grocery list while you push the cart

୨ Sitting in his lap while he reads the newspaper ohahahwbrbrbnrne

୨ You guys definitely met early on; slow burn

୨ You were SO ‘So High School’ by Taylor Swift when you were a little bit younger

୨ Been in the works of writing a ff abt that..

୨ FINALLY officially asked you out senior year for prom and you’ve been together since, even though you guys were in love way before that

୨ You definitely have to get in between his and Pony’s fights a lot

୨ Soda comes to you for advice, no matter what it is- he thinks it’s refreshing to have someone new to talk to rather than constant arguing, yada yada

୨ Dallas either flirts with you to piss Darry off or he has a relationship with you like he did with Mrs. Curtis. No in between.

୨ The type of man to give you foot massages

୨ On the contrary, you also massage his shoulders

୨ Johnny probably had a tiny crush on you when you first met him years back, but it went away when you guys started dating

୨ Went away to an extent at least..

୨ Him standing between your legs while you’re sat on the sink shaving his face for him GODODODODID

୨ He says “honey, I’m home” unironically

୨ He’s able to pick you up pretty easily no matter your weight

୨ He does it a lot and it’s mainly to show off LMAO

୨ You guys play checkers together and genuinely enjoy it which doesn’t help your mom/dad allegations

୨ EXTREMELY good at calming you down whether it’s a panic attack, etc

୨ He might lose his temper a lot on his brothers, but he never does it with you

୨ If he ever does accidentally snap at you, he apologizes to no end

୨ He’s touching you whenever he can; a hand on your waist, around your shoulder, keeping you on his lap, a finger in your belt loop, etc

୨ Speaking of belt loops, you pulling him in by the loops or his belt buckle to kiss him⁉️⁉️⁉️ I’m losing it

୨ Whenever any sort of errand needs to be run, he either forces Pony/Soda to do it, or makes you come with him alone

୨ He buys you flowers whenever he has the extra money ☹️

୨ Has his moms wedding ring kept someplace safe to give to you one day

୨ On another note, she loved you so much before she passed

୨ She was also constantly teasing him about you two when you guys were younger

୨ If he’s exhausted from work and flops onto the couch with you, don’t expect to be getting up anytime soon

୨ Back to the ‘him going out more’ point- you guys go to rodeos together whenever he knows Pony is being watched by someone else

୨ Calming lil’ picnics together by a lake

୨ He unfortunately will have to cancel plans a good amount because of work-related stuff, but you completely understand

୨ He’s pretty stubborn about letting you help with money, but he gives in sometimes

୨ You leave him cute notes in the lunch that he takes to work <\\3

୨ He for sure keeps a hand on your thigh or knee while driving

୨ There’s no doubt in my mind you’d grow old together

୨ He’s thankful for you in so many ways and is glad you’re able to help his life feel normal again and like an actual 20 year-old

#darry curtis x reader #darrel curtis #darry curtis #darrel curtis x reader #darry curtis x you #darrel curtis x you #the outsiders #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders x you #the outsiders darry #darry curtis imagine #darrel curtis imagine #outsiders x reader #outsiders #curtis gang #patrick swayze #curtis gang x reader

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bones-aa · 3 days

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Yan!MIGUEL O'HARA (Platonic) pt 2

warnings; Yandere themes, Platonic fatherly love (not really).

genuinely, I never thought that the previous post would garner that much attention but here we are, hi yall :) this is the very anticipated (not really) second part to the first miguel post i made. the atsv has gone but my love for daddy (platonically) miguel will never leave 😔 anyways hope u enjoy it pookies <3

The dull throbbing pain in your shoulder was a reminder of what happened to you. Something that you would have never imagine, in your worst nightmares would happen to you.

Getting kidnapped? A hero? It was unheard of. As a spider person, your strength should've been unparraleled, it should have saved you.

But no. To him, Miguel, your strength was nothing compared to his. So you were here, trapped in a room that was unmarked. You had looked around and it was unrecognisable. The room was scarce, plain only the white walls to comfort you.

You tried to sit up, tried being the key word here. The paralysis barely wore off making it hard to do anything but just lie there and sit in the reality of your situation. You were kidnapped. By your delusional boss who thinks that you need his saving. His protection.

But you definitely fucking didn't. It was offensive that he would suggest that in the first place.

The doors that were across the room opened up, a low hiss signalling the entrance of your kidnapper. There stood Miguel, the man who paralysed and kidnapped you walked towards you. You couldn't move, you needed to get as far away from him as possible.

You watched as he moved to caress your face, wiping the stray tear that escaped your face as the man stared at you with the disgustingly longing look in his eyes.

"Don't cry mi hija, you'll feel better the venom will wear off, hm? I'll be here." That's exactly what you didn't want, it was impossible to hold off the tears but you didn't want to be vulnerable in front of this monster. The reality of the situation begs your reaction, this man who claimed to wanted to protect you hurt you. How else could you react?

The tears fell. You couldn't even look away, you were stuck in this state where the hands of your kidnapper continued to stay by you, giving you hushed whispers of comfort. It was disgusting.

After awhile of his creepy comforting, his watch buzzed with a message. He lifted his arm in annoyance and checked the message. He groaned and you assumed it was a mission, he looked back at you. He didn't want to go.

Miguel was broken, he is a broken man. He lost his daughter and with that his ability to care left as well. His patience often ran thin, snapping at people for messing up even the smallest things. But with you it was different. Maybe it was your carefree yet generous personality that made him snap, the way you were so willing to help others even before you had gotten bitten by the spider.

You were truly someone that was deserving of the mantle, the title of spider person. He saw you as someone to protect, he couldn't let you be hurt like he did. He couldn't let you slip into the darkness that he lived in. He had to save you.

"...Although I don't want to leave, I have a job to do." He starts, his attention entirely on you like it has been for the past hour. "The paralysis should be gone by the time I come back, I trust you to not act out."

His stern tone was a stark contrast to his gentle one earlier. You couldn't nod or do anything, but instead just stare ahead. He sighed and leaned down giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead. It was all so fucking disgusting.

The paralysis. You had laid there for a full hour and Miguel didn't come back, but the paralysis. It was gone. You wiggled your toes and slowly started to be able to move the rest of your limbs.

You propped yourself up on your elbows as you started to get up. You let out a small groan as you did, your body still ached but you couldn't mull over your pain. You had to get out of there, now.

You held the wall as you started to take shaky steps towards the door, it had no doorknobs. Nothing. You regained your feeling back, it meant that you regained your strength back as well. You decied to test it out.

Thump.

Your fist collided with the cool metal door. No dent, nothing. You shook your hand, the pain sent shocks up your arm. You shook your wrist and pursed your lips as you try again. You slam your fist into the metal door again. Again. Again.

Your fists started bleeding but the door didn't budge. The door slid open and Miguel stood there, you stared at him with your fists bleeding. His eyes widened and he quickly moved to hold you.

You sobbed into his shoulders as he cradled you closer into him. He tries to comfort you but all you can do is cry. Your fists hurt, but thats not what you were crying about.

“Cariño, why did you-“

He stayed quiet as he let you down, he watched as you rubbed your eyes trying to get breaths in. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, what sick fantasy you have in your head, but I don’t want any fucking part.” Your voice soft but every word dripped with hatred.

Miguel shook his head as he sat next to you.

“You will learn, you’re just shocked hm? I know you need this as much as me.” You watched in disgust as he held your hands with a painful gentleness, he looked as if it were his fists that were bleeding. As if your pain was his.

“I don’t!” You moved your hands away from his. “I don’t need this.”

“Your family has abandoned you, have they not? You have nobody.” It was like a slap in the face, but they did. After finding out who you were they treated you like a monster.

“I will be your new family, Y/n, no one else.”

Here’s the second part doneee, im not sure its good but hey at least its made right LMAO

Sorry for disappearing consider this another apology gift !!

#yandere platonic #platonic yandere #tw yandere #yandere platonic miguel ohara #platonic yandere marvel

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drabblesandimagines · 2 days

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Sliding Doors

Leon Kennedy x female reader, Chris Redfield x female reader, fluff, angst

For the lovely @porcelainseashore who commission a continuation from Forever Hold Your Peace. Thank you for all your love and support ❤️

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony…” the minister begins, but as you stand opposite Chris – a soft, adoring smile on his face, shedding a tear when he’d saw how beautiful you looked as you walked down the aisle – you can’t help but meet the gaze of the best man’s icy blue eyes for a moment. “..speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Leon clenches his fists.

“No.”

It’s a muttered plea more than a loud proclamation, but it’s audible enough for several pairs of eyes to focus on him due to the interruption.

The minister smiles, awkwardly, his eyes flitting between the members of the bridal party to gauge whether it was a joke – heaven knows he’s seen them fall flat before - before he clears his throat to proceed with the vows.

“Christo-”

“No.” It’s louder that time, Leon’s voice echoed around the room like a gunshot.

“Not the time for your jokes, bud.” Chris forces out a laugh as he replies over his shoulder, before turning back to you and offering a reassuring smile.

“It’s not a joke.” You wish the ground would swallow you up as Leon remains focused on you. “Don’t marry him.”

“Leon”, Claire hisses from over your shoulder, looking furious. “What are you doing?”

He ignores her. “I’m not saying marry me, but just… Don’t marry him.”

You shake your head, subtly, eyes wide in fear as the small congregation of friends and family begin to whisper amongst themselves.

This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening.

Chris’ fists are now clenched as he turns to his supposed best man, his brow furrowed as he tries to analyze the situation, his mind automatically heading into work mode – assess, strategize, action.

“What is this?”

Leon ignores Chris too, instead taking a step forward. “I’m different now – I swear. Just give me another chance. The connection’s still there – I know you felt it when we kissed-”

“Kissed?!” Chris and Claire reiterate almost in unison, and someone in the seated crowd gasps.

“What kiss?” Chris presses, turning back to look at you in disbelief. “Honey, what’s he talking about?”

Your mouth feels drier than it ever has, your tongue heavy in your mouth. “I didn’t, Chris… I… I mean, he…”

“I kissed her, Redfield.” Leon cuts across, rolling back his shoulders as he sidesteps in front of the groom, blocking you from his sight. “When you asked me to deliver that gift earlier, I kissed her. Can’t say it was the first time either.”

You should say something more coherent than your mumbled excuses – explain what Leon means by that because it definitely makes it sound worse than it is - but your heart is pounding and you’re beginning to feel a little faint.

This isn’t real, it’s a bad dream and you’re going to wake up in the hotel suite, Claire knocking on the door, hair stylist and make-up artist in tow to help you start getting ready.

The minister tries to soothe tensions instead. “Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private to-“

“What the fuck does that mean, Kennedy?”

“We were a thing-”

“We were not a thing, Leon,” you shift a little to the side then so you can see Chris, finding your voice at last.

You wished you hadn’t moved as hurt flashes across Chris’ face - sweet, loyal, dependable Chris.

Chris, who never fails to set up coffee machine timer to greet you with a freshly brewed batch when he has to leave early, who would always find some sort of way to communicate with you even if he was halfway across the world, who never shied away from holding your hand or kissing you in public, who told his closest colleagues about you openly, who didn’t treat you like a dirty little secret.

Chris, who, despite how much you tried to convince yourself, has never made you feel quite like Leon did.

“-before you two started dating.” Leon presses on, ignoring how the taller man’s shoulders grow more and more tense, seething breaths now coming out of his nose. “I treated her rotten, drove her into your arms and regretted it every minute since. I’m not gonna let her make the biggest mis-”

Chris’ fist meets Leon’s face – it’s so swift that the whole room takes a moment to realise what’s happened. The agent is surprisingly not knocked off his feet by the blow but stumbles back and you automatically reach out a hand to steady him by his arm, unaware of how it looks in that moment.

Leon wipes a trickle of blood from his mouth, looking smug as he relishes your touch. “Not gonna say I didn’t deserve that.”

Chris is staring at your hand on Leon’s arm and you pull it back when you see the hurt in his eyes, wringing your hands together as you begin to plead.

“I’m sorry, Chris. I should’ve told you, but it… It was nothing. A blip. It wasn’t anything like what we have. He kissed me earlier and I pushed him away and I told him. Please.”

“Is this why you were crying?” Claire demands, stepping over to stand besides Chris in an act of support. Her shoulders are high, ready to protect her brother at all costs. “In the suite earlier, when Leon was there.”

“N-no,” you shake your head furiously, but your voice isn’t convincing enough to your own ears, especially in comparison to Leon’s firm “Yes.”

You’re hot, the wedding gown of your dreams feeling stifling, too tight, the veil tugging heavily at your scalp.

“Chris, please, can we go talk somewhere?” You step forward, past Leon, hand outstretched to take your fiance’s. You want to take him away from all the prying eyes, the disbelieving murmurs, away from all the tension, have a discussion with clear heads, but he pulls his hand from out of your reach.

“Do you love him?” Chris’ voice is so flat it makes you feel sick. It’s the same tone he has when he comes back from missions where he’s lost comrades, the one that you can slowly break him out of after days of soft words and touches.

You never wanted to be the cause of it.

“It’s been years.” There’s the crack in your voice again, your next words a little too rushed. “I love you. You’re sweet. You’re so sweet, kind and loyal.”

Everything Leon wasn’t.

“I said, do you love Leon?”

You stare deep into Chris’ eyes then, his lips pressed together in a thin line. There had been something when Leon had kissed you less than an hour ago, how easily you’d almost fallen back into threading your fingers into his hair to deepen it, how your heartbeat had remained elevated since.

Leon is a wildcard and Chris is steady, dependable – everything you should want.

Everything you’ve been convincing yourself you did want.

One more look into your fiancee’s eyes is all it takes. He doesn’t deserve this but he does deserve the truth.

You take a shuddering breath and nod.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Right.” Chris nods, as casual as if he’s just been given his latest set of orders. He turns on his heels and heads back down the aisle – the aisle he was meant to be walking down with you on his arm as his new wife – with his head and shoulders held high, Claire hurrying after him, dropping your bouquet as she does.

As you stare at his retreating form, Leon slips his hand into yours and squeezes.

And, as tears begin to stream down your face again, you squeeze back.

He drove you away from the venue on his bike, your cheek pressed firmly against his back and your veil floating behind you in the wind.

Cars honked in celebration around you, all under the impression that a husband was taking his new wife for a celebratory ride, not that the best man had just absconded with the bride.

He takes you back to his apartment, a thing he’d never done when you were ‘together’, but it made sense now, considering. You lived with Chris, a two-storey on a cul-de-sac, white picket fence – you could hardly go back there today.

Or ever.

“What can I do, sweetheart?” Leon asks, cautiously, as you both stand in his living room a few feet apart. It feels more like a show-home than your place – no personal affects, the coffee table empty besides a remote control for the widescreen.

“I… I need to get out of this.” You huff, ripping the veil from your scalp at last, the pins holding it in place scattering over his polished wooden floor and you fling it down on the sofa. You know you won’t be able to undo your dress yourself so you turn, flustered. “I can’t…”

“I’ve got you, it’s okay.” Leon soothes, closing the gap between the two of you and deftly unpicking the laces of the corset with nimble fingers. You feel it loosen immediately, but it doesn’t ease the suffocating feeling in your chest.

“There.” The dress drops a little and you quickly wrap your arms around yourself, keeping it up, before Leon steps around the coffee table, heading towards the hallway. “I’ll… I’ll grab you a change of clothes.”

Your clothes, right. They’re all at yours.

Oh, God, how are you going to get them?

How could you ever face Chris again?

You remain standing in the living room, forcing yourself to breathe deeply. You can hear Leon opening and closing some drawers, obviously looking for something that you can wear. He emerges a few moments later, holding a grey sweatshirt and some black gym shorts.

“I think these will work. Shorts have a drawstring, so…”

“Where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, down the hall, second door on your left.”

You take the clothes from his hand, avoiding eye contact and head to change. Your hands are shaking as you turn the lock, quickly shedding your dress and wedding night lingerie – not how you thought you’d be removing it tonight, that’s for sure, but you can’t bear to keep any of it on. Finally, you slide a lacey white garter off your thigh and bundle everything together into a ball, placing it on top of one of the two laundry baskets in the corner, noting he separates lights and darks.

You pull the sweatshirt over your head – it feels odd, oversized but not as oversized as any of the things you’d stolen from Chris’ dresser – before putting on the shorts and double-knotting the cord to keep them up.

You wet your face in the sink next, washing off your make-up as best you can. A glint catches your eye from your right hand – your engagement ring moved over in preparation for the wedding ring being slipped on.

You’ll need to return it.

Carefully, you pull it off your finger and place it on the sink, undoing the latch on the necklace Chris had sent Leon up with – does he regret that now? Is he sat somewhere with a whiskey, mulling over what would be different if he hadn’t sent his best man to the bridal suite? - and thread it through the chain, fastening it back around your neck and tucking it under the sweatshirt, out of sight.

You don’t want to wear it, really, the idea making you feel sick being adorned with gifts that Chris had picked out lovingly - but you don’t want to lose it somewhere in Leon’s apartment either.

Leon is still standing in the same place in the living room when you emerge, the only difference being his tie is now off and thrown over the coffee table, one hand in his pocket. You stop a couple of feet in front of him and stare, trying to read his gaze.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t set out to say those things, baby. I just-” You throw yourself into his arms, sobbing – for what’s just occurred and for how horrible you feel when being in his arms immediately just feels so right, more natural than being wrapped in Chris’ ever did.

Leon presses kisses to your crown, pulls you back and down onto the sofa and hooks your legs up into his lap, rocking you back and forth like a child who needs consoling.

“It’s all right. It’ll be okay. And I’ll be better, I promise.” He murmurs against your ear when your sobs begin to slow, his white shirt significantly damp with your abundance of tears. “I’m not fucking up again. Not after this, baby. I’ll spend every damn day showing you how serious I am about you, about us.”

Chris remains a gentleman, despite everything. The first you hear from him is one week after the wedding, via email, letting you know that he’ll be out of the house for a few days if you’d like to go in and collect your things. He’s going to put the house on the market after, said he’s taken a new position within the BSAA and will be permanently relocating to the European branch, so doesn’t see the point in keeping it empty. It’s not surprising, really, Chris has been headhunted a couple of times since his work in Europe, but he’d always wanted to remain on American soil, with you.

He adds he’s going to sell the furniture as a job lot too, so to take anything you like and then leave the keys under the doormat once you’re done.

He signs it best regards.

He’s too nice for what you’ve done to him.

A fact Claire had reminded you of daily – scornful text messages and voicemails telling you exactly what she thinks of you and Leon. They cease only after Chris can be heard in the background of the final voicemail, telling her to stop.

You’re living in a short-term rental when you pick up your things – not that you would’ve taken any of the furniture anyway. You’d stayed at Leon’s for a week after, sleeping in his spare room. He’d returned to the venue and picked up the things you’d left in the bridal suite as you lay in bed, festering in the horrible combination of guilt and relief of what had transpired.

Leon wanted you to move in permanently, but you told him it was too much, too soon. You made demands this time, wanting to take it slow but also testing the limits of how much he had meant it when he said things would be different, that he would be different.

You were selfish with them at first – he had to date you properly, take you out for lunch, coffee and dinner dates, walks around the park, weekend trips away and trips to the movies, hold your hand and kiss you in public.

You told him you wanted him to try therapy, to learn how to communicate.

And, to his credit, he does it all. He hates the first three therapists, only managing a session or two with them, but he keeps going until he clicks with the fourth and sees them every Wednesday – always reschedules for another day of the week if he’s away with work.

You’re never sure how he’s going to be immediately after – sometimes he emerges with the weight of the world resting even more heavily on his shoulders, other times he seems to have a pep in his step until, gradually, he comes out lighter and lighter every time.

He tells you he loves you when you make a dumb joke over dinner in a cheesy diner – so loud in his proclamation that the waitress gives the two of you a slice of pie each on the house, extra whipped cream.

There are things he’s still uncomfortable with but he’s better at communicating, each of you compromising as you settle into the relationship.

“Do you want to get married?” He murmurs in your ear one night a year and a half later, spooning you against his bare chest. The bedroom has a pile of moving boxes stacked in the corner - your first night in your new, shared apartment.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” you take one of his hands, fidget with his fingers. “What about you?”

“I don’t mind either way,” he grasps hold of your wrist and rolls you over in a smooth notion. “Whatever you want.”

“Uh-uh,” you correct, “we’re partners, remember?”

“Right. Whatever we want.” He kisses you then, slowly, as if he has the whole night to while away. He’s never in a rush when it comes to you, not any more.

“I love you.” You mumble between kisses, feeling him smile as he captures your lips once again.

“I love you, sweetheart. Always and forever.”

“Leon?”

“Huh?” He’s spaced out – Chris, Claire, the minister and you all staring expectantly at him.

“Got the rings, man?” Chris is holding out his hand, an amused smile on his face.

Right, the rings.

Best man hands over the rings.

He stuffs his hand into his trouser pocket and tugs out the little mesh bag they’d been placed in. He can’t imagine Chris wearing his for long, not with his line of work. Leon wouldn’t either, truth be told. He’d get a nice chain, maybe, have it hang over his heart.

Chris takes the bag with a nod of thanks and empties them out onto the minister’s book, big fingers fumbling to pick up the ring he’s about to slide on your finger, following the minister’s prompts in reciting his vows.

Leon stares at you as you look up into Chris’ eyes, smiling so much your cheeks must hurt, and tries not to think about how when you had looked at him like that, he’d left you the next morning with nothing but a note on the pillow.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you would please be upstanding for the new Mr and Mrs Redfield!”

Leon hadn’t realized he’d be sat next to you at the top table. He hadn’t thought much about the reception at all, besides the speech Chris asked him to make.

But, fuck, you look so happy walking in with him that it takes his breath away. Your fingers interlaced, surrounded by cheers and applause. Redfield can’t help himself – Leon wouldn’t either - swings you around and dips you into a kiss in the middle of the floor. You look embarrassed when he releases you, but there’s a giddy smile on your face too.

He couldn’t give you that. He couldn’t. He’s not sure Redfield can either – setting you up for disappointment and heartbreak.

He doesn’t know why anyone else is seated at the top table – you and Chris only have eyes for each other throughout dinner. He drinks more than he eats, wondering if he can make Redfield regret putting on an open bar.

“Now, for the best man – Leon Kennedy.”

He pulls the notecard out of his jacket pocket as he stands - he’d started writing it so many times but never got particularly far. That morning, he’d searched generic best man speech on his phone and jotted it down.

“You’ll be pleased to know that I’ll be keeping this short and sweet – two words you probably wouldn’t use to describe Chris Redfield.” He pauses, polite laughter rippling through the crowd.

“There’s two things being celebrated here today. The first being that it’s finally been acknowledged that I am, in fact, the best man between us.” He pauses again, taking a pre-emptive swig of his drink to help dull the ache of the words to come.

“Secondly, of course, the union of this… wonderful couple. May your lives be filled with love and happiness. To the bride and groom!”

The guests raise their glass in unison and Leon sits down heavily in his seat, downing the rest of his drink as Chris stands up, thanking Leon for his speech and leading an applause. He picks up a champagne flute and looks down at you, adoringly.

“Truthfully, I’m wondering if I should’ve gone first, because mine’s even shorter than Leon’s. Thank you all so much for coming here today to celebrate with us. All that’s really left to say is, I love you, darling – always and forever.”

Chris bends down to steal another kiss and the guests applaud and cheer once again – Leon swears it’s louder than what his speech received.

“I love you so much, Chris.”

Leon wishes it had been louder still to drown out your response.

“You ready?” Chris murmurs into your ear before pressing a kiss against your jaw. You didn’t think it was possible – you’d never seen Chris drunk ever – but it seems the numerous glasses of champagne have gotten to his head. He’ll deny it in the morning if you accuse him, tell you it wasn’t the alcohol which was making him act that way, no, it was you that was making him love-drunk, before capturing your lips in a kiss.

You nod and squirm with a giggle, his stubble tickling your neck. You had sat down at the table for a breather, after completing a round of the tables to greet your guests as well as a couple of dances with your friends. You haven’t seen Leon since dinner and, truthfully, he’s the furthest thing from your mind ever since Chris slipped the ring on your finger. Your new husband takes your hand and grabs a chair with the other, leading you to the middle of the small dance floor and places it down. Once he’s happy, he lifts his other arm above his head to twirl you into position and down upon the chair.

You feel giddy – from love, champagne, happiness – as Chris kneels before you and gently begins to lift the hem of your dress up and over your knees.

Someone in the crowd wolf-whistles, probably one of the squad, and Chris turns in the direction to mockingly glare. He then resumes his work of pulling your dress up a little more, cautiously, until he found what he was looking for – a lacey white garter on your thigh.

Chris asking if you wanted to do the garter toss part of the ceremony had come completely out of left-field, so much so you were thankful you hadn’t taken a sip of your drink before he’d asked, lest you had spit it out in his face. He scratched the back of his head, gave you a dopey-looking smile that made you want to cuddle him rotten and said he wanted to do things by the book. He wanted the tradition, some sense of normalcy in his life with the whole white wedding, and having no strong feelings about it either way you’d agreed.

Now, though, as he looks up at you with that up-to-no-good smirk, you wonder if you should’ve said no.

“Hands or teeth?”

“Huh?”

He lightly pings the garter on your thigh. “Shall I remove it with my hands or teeth, darling?”

“Chris!” You laugh, sure he was joking.

He tilts his head. “Uh-uh. Pick, please.”

“Fine.” You smirk back, buoyed in confidence by the champagne. “Teeth.”

“Excellent choice, Mrs Redfield.” He plants a hand on your other leg to steady himself, before lowering his head and you feel his teeth graze your thigh as he nips the lacey material and begins to tug it down, all to the hooting and hollering of the assembled crowd.

Leon takes a long sip of whiskey as he watches from the corner. He would’ve used his teeth to remove it too, but only in the sanctity of the bedroom later that night.

It flies over the heads and outstretched arms of the bachelors – Chris always did have a good throw - and eventually smacks Leon right in the chest.

“All right, Kennedy!” Somebody cheers, and before he can really think about it, he bends down and snatches up the garter, aware that the eyes of the room are on him. He holds it aloft in a mock display of triumph.

He looks for you then, wondering what you’ll think – a sign from the universe that you’ve made a mistake – but your eyes are fixed on Chris, cupping his face in your palms as he remains knelt in front of you, pressing a long kiss to his lips.

Leon stuffs the garter deep in his trouser pocket.

Leon doesn’t see either of you for six months – thanks to a relentless run of missions, intercontinental travel and briefings all keeping his mind occupied – and it helps dull the ache in his chest too.

An email pops up in his inbox though, inviting him to the Redfield’s housewarming BBQ in a couple of weeks, but he never replies to the RSVP.

Still, he finds himself parking his bike up outside the new house – it has a white picket fence, for fuck’s sake, nestled on a quiet suburban street. To his trained eye, he can see some additional security measures, so at least Redfield hasn’t become completely complacent. The gate clicks a little louder than usual when he opens it, probably linked to some sort of surveillance system, the panes of glass in the window are clearly bullet-proof and the front door is steel, disguised to blend in with the rest of the street.

He rings the doorbell – looking direct into the pinhole camera.

Chris answers soon after, a black apron on for grilling duties over blue jeans and a white tee. He looks good, annoyingly so compared to the dark rings Leon has under his own eyes, but he’s perhaps a little softer around the edges. Leon had heard down the grapevine that Chris had taken more of a consultant type role at the BSAA, office hours, trying to move away from always having his boots on the ground – something he never thought he’d see.

“Hey! You made it. It’s great to see you, man.” Chris greets him, a genuine smile on his face. “Perfect timing – I’m just about to fire up the grill. We’re all just out in the yard.”

He steps over the threshold – his eyes immediately finding the framed wedding photo on the hall table, the one where you’d all signed the registry and the photographer had Leon stand by your side and Claire by Chris’.

He wonders if, when you look at it, you can tell his smile is fake.

He doesn’t take in much else of the house as he’s led through, instead forcing himself to take a deep breath in preparation of seeing you again. He’s tried to forget about the kiss through a string of dates from the office and one-night stands, but he still has your stolen garter tucked in the back of his bedside drawer.

It’s over, he chastises himself.

It didn’t even really begin either.

You’re facing away from him when he follows Chris through the kitchen and out onto wooden decking, a set of stairs leading down to a large rectangle of grass. There’s a good 15 or so in attendance, only a handful of people present that he recognizes, some from the wedding, all congregated in little groups, a long table set up with bowls of salad, chips, rolls, sauces and other snacks, a bucket of ice, rapidly melting in the midday sun, in which various drinks are nestled.

You’re talking to Claire and a guy he doesn’t recognize, but he has his arm draped around her shoulders. You’re dressed in a sweet floral sundress, capped sleeves, white sandals. He wants to slip in to the conversation, no fuss, no announcement, but Chris has other ideas.

“Hey, Leon’s here!”

You turn at your husband’s call, a little surprised. Chris had told you he’d invited Leon, of course, but noted that he hadn’t accepted or denied. Really, you weren’t sure if he’d show at all, given what had happened at the wedding and the fact he’d been off-grid for so long after.

Those bright blue eyes only meet yours for a moment before they trail down to your stomach, and the protective hand you’ve placed on top of it – only a recent habit since your bump had properly popped.

“Oh, yeah,” Chris chuckles, clocking on to exactly what Leon is staring at. He slaps him on the back, ushering him forward as he does. Leon wants to dig his heels in, maybe if he keeps his distance it won’t be real and only a trick of perspective, but his legs won’t co-operate.

“Sorry, should’ve said - turns out we brought more back than souvenirs from the honeymoon.”

Claire groans. “Are you going to use that line on everyone, Chris? It’s too early for you to be cracking out dad jokes.” She takes a swig of her beer, before nodding at Leon. “Hey.”

Leon nods in Claire’s direction, but his eyes are still fixed on you.

“Leon.” You smile, a little worried at how much colour has drained from the agent’s face. “We’re so glad you could make it. It’s been ages!”

“I…” He swallows, shaking his head a little as if he could shake off the feeling of disbelief. “Congratulations. On the house and the… baby.”

Redfield smirks as he steps over from Leon’s side to yours, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close to press a kiss to your temple. “Thanks, bud. Gotta admit, I’m feeling a pretty lucky guy.”

“The luckiest.”

Chris cocks his head at the lack of sarcasm, almost put off by how genuine Leon sounded.

“Sorry, is there any more beer?” Someone he doesn’t recognize – one of yours or Chris’ other friends, maybe – interrupts.

“Of course! I’ll go get it.” You barely make it a step out of Chris’ embrace before he wraps his hand around your arm and stills you with a furrowed brow.

“Babe, we tal-“

“We talked about me carrying heavy things.” You correct with a feigned huff. “The baby will be heavier than a box of beer.”

Chris looks apologetic. “All I was gonna say is you need to be careful – don’t want you wearing yourself out and missing the party.” Leon feels a stabbing pain once again in his chest as he watches Redfield cup your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Let’s be honest, darling, you’re usually on your second nap by this time.”

You pout, more so annoyed that Chris is right. The move, plus the second trimester had you feeling permanently fatigued. “True, but-”

“Let me go grab the beer,” Leon interrupts and Chris drops his hand from your face, as if he just realized Leon was still there. “Just tell me where.”

You frown at his offer. “You’re a guest.”

“A lousy guest - didn’t even bring a housewarming gift,” he berates himself. “Being the beer lackey can be it.”

“You didn’t need to get us anything – your company’s gift enough.” You place a hand on his arm and squeeze in reassurance - he swears his heart skips a beat. “It’s probably easier if I show you where. Come on.”

“Thanks, Leon.” Chris pats him on the back and turns to the grill, declaring it hot enough to finally start cooking.

Leon follows you, dutifully, back up the steps onto the decking, one hand poised ready to steady you if need be. You lead him towards the opposite end of the kitchen and towards the pantry, hesitating before you open the door.

“I’m sorry, if this was a shock.” You jerk your chin down at your stomach. “We were just sorta telling people as and when we saw them, rather than do any real big announcement.”

“Yet you announced the house?”

You smile, wryly. “I think Chris just wanted an excuse to buy that grill. He’s trying out lots of hobbies. I caught him looking up ride-on mowers the other night.”

“Heard he’s office-based now.” There’s a beat and it comes out before he can even think, always ready to justify his actions even when no-one’s called for it. “I couldn’t have done that for you.”

Suddenly, you’re thrown back to that hour before your wedding – something you truthfully hadn’t thought of until this moment.

“You think I asked Chris to do that? That I demanded a wedding and a house and a baby and…” Your voice cracks a little before you take a deep breath. Your emotions are high strung enough at the moment with the pregnancy and you try to compose yourself, digging your nails into your palms.

“You know what? No – I’m not going through this again. Relationships are about compromises on both sides, it’s unfortunate that’s what you still don’t seem to understand.”

You slide open the pantry door then, pointing to the back where a couple of boxes of beer are stacked, in amongst tubs of protein powder. “Just grab any of those, please. I’ll see you outside.”

Leon’s hand wraps around your wrist as you step away. It isn’t a firm grip by any means, just holding you loosely in place. “Just tell me one thing - are you happy?”

“I’m really happy, Leon.” You reply without a beat’s hesitation, because you are. “I hope one day you allow yourself to be happy too.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, only drops his grip on your wrist and turns into the pantry in the guise of retrieving the beer. It’s only when he hears you step back out onto the decking that he bends to pick up the box, half wondering if he should just quietly leave now.

No, that would only cause you grief, surely. He’s done enough of that.

After a few moments have passed, he lifts up the box and heads out, pulling the door shut to the pantry behind him. He heads back out into the yard, pausing at the top of the stairs to see you back at your husband’s side, laughing at something he’s said, looking up at him like he’s everything.

Chris wraps his arms around you, helping you up to your tip-toes so he can kiss you as passionately as he did on the wedding day, and every day since.

Claire wonders, loudly, whether your honeymoon phase will ever be over, but she’s smiling as she says it.

Leon silently carries over the box and opens it, adding a couple more cans of beer to the ice bucket before Claire hands him an open one, proposing a toast to the new house and baby Redfield.

Instead, Leon toasts to the life he could’ve had.

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

Comments and reblogs make my whole day x

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy angst #chris redfield x you #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield angst #chris redfield fluff

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Text

Through My Fingertips

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

➸ summary: how mattheo grapples with the fact that he can’t admit his true feelings towards you

➸ warnings/notes: angst, mentions of sexual activity but nothing explicit, mattheo being emotionally unavailable, fwb!reader

A/N: based on this post from @leona-hawthorne. also listening to CHIHIRO by billie eilish while thinking about this… it hurts good.

word count: 2.9k (it’s a long one)

————————

IF THERE WAS one thing universally known, is that Mattheo Riddle didn’t do serious relationships. He would sleep around, maybe take a girl out on a date every once in a while just to take her back to his dorm, but that’s as far as his emotional availability went. It was a result of the harsh and arduous years living with his father.

Until you came along. You managed to break down his walls with every brush of your fingertips and every soft kiss that you’d bless him with. He could never let you go, but was simultaneously scared to fully let you in.

So now, you were in a weird in-between place of casually sleeping together, while also cuddling and having sleepovers every other night.

Theo can’t remember the last time Mattheo kept one of his hook ups around for so long. At most, the women would last a week or two before it got too real for him, and he would break it off. In all the years that they’ve been friends, Mattheo has never really even showed romantic interest. Commitment wasn’t necessarily a virtue that he had.

When you stepped out of the boy’s dorm for the fourth week in a row, Theo and Blaise’s eyebrows shot up; but they regained their composure as they greeted you, watching as you happily shuffled away.

“This is new,” commented Theo when Mattheo stepped out of his room, his pants hung low and his arms shoving through the holes in his t-shirt.

“Is it? I bring girls around all the time.”

Mattheo knew what Theo meant. He didn’t want to be bombarded with questions that he didn’t have the answers to. The past few weeks, all he’s been able to think about is you.

You, with your sweet laughter and infectious smile. You, with that fresh rose perfume that you always seemed to have on hand, spraying it on your collarbones before jogging away to your class. There was nothing more that he wanted to think about - and the fact that his mind hasn’t been able to forget about you scared him shitless. He should be the cold, heartless player that everybody believes he is. Yet something about the way you looked at him made Mattheo want to forget all about his reputation and his fears. If only he was a little stronger, a little less afraid to become the man you deserved.

“You do,” said Blaise, breaking the silence. “Just haven’t seen you so… committed to one, like, ever.”

Mattheo’s head whipped up at the word ‘committed’. The son of the Dark Lord, willingly committing to someone? Impossible.

“Please,” he scoffed, “the only thing I’m committed to is getting her into my bed.”

It wasn’t really wrong. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you made your arrangement with him. There was strictly to be no feelings involved, it was a purely sexual relationship. However, this fact did not make it any less painful to hear the words that tumbled out of Riddle’s mouth any easier. If only you kept walking instead of sticking around behind the wall to tie your shoes.

“I don’t know, man. You-“

Mattheo held his hand up, his nostrils flaring. “Look, if you’re gonna keep hounding me with this bullshit, I’d rather leave now.”

He waited for a moment to see if anyone would say anything else, and when they didn’t, he sat down on the couch. The conversation switched faster than you could stand up from your kneeling position on the ground.

‘Bullshit’ is what he said when he referred to your friends with benefits situation. Was that really all he thought of you? Sure you were aware that he didn’t want feelings involved, but you wished he was at least a little more respectful when he spoke about you. Especially behind your back. It hurt knowing that his friends thought nothing more of you than some ‘bullshit side piece’ of Mattheo’s.

The following day you managed to avoid him at all costs. When you’d see him making his way towards you, your head would turn to the opposite direction, finding a classmate or friend to occupy your time until he walked away.

You only had yourself to blame. You should’ve known that him letting you stay over was only because you insisted. Maybe you were pushing him too hard - and perhaps all the gentle kisses you two shared while he slowly rutted into you was a one time thing. Mattheo Riddle didn’t do relationships. You were stupid to think you could change him.

The negligence didn’t go unnoticed by him. It was weird not having you next to him during class, whispering to you to meet him in the broom closet for your next period. It was even weirder you not eating lunch with him in the Great Hall.

Something must have happened in between yesterday and this morning, but he couldn’t pinpoint anything specific.

Mattheo’s mind only wandered. At some point you would get sick of the ‘no feelings’ agreement that you had made, he just didn’t expect it to be so soon. In another universe you would already be his, hands clasped together as he walked you to class. Instead he was subjected to the shit-storm of worries that clouded his brain.

Out of anyone he’s ever been friends with, you were the only one who could get him to smile when he felt like the world was against him. He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it, but you really were melting the ice around his heart, and he was subconsciously sabotaging himself every step of the way.

He didn’t deserve to be happy. Why should he, when he’s caused so much pain?

The day dragged on without a word from you, and Mattheo was growing antsy. His former angry demeanor was back. Every word from Draco’s mouth set him off, and he snapped at Theo more times than he can count on both hands.

“What happened? Your girlfriend break up with you or something?” muttered Theo at dinner. This only pissed Mattheo off even more.

“She’s not my fucking girlfriend and she never will be.”

He couldn’t help it. The only way to protect himself from embarrassment and rejection was by becoming a defensive shell of a human. He didn’t like yelling at his friend, but he felt pushed to the limit. It didn’t help that his thoughts were a constant jumbled mess, the confusion of what he felt for you and the fear of abandonment melting into a cocoon of pure anxiety.

He wanted to shout some more, tell Theo how wrong he was, but that was when he smelled it. The familiar rosy scent of your perfume and shampoo.

Your footsteps halted at the venom in Mattheo’s voice. Never in the three weeks that you’ve been seeing him have you heard him speak with such disgust. It was almost like he was spitting out the words, trying to get rid of them as fast as he could - he would never see you as anything other than a fuck buddy. This, what you were to him now, was all you will ever be.

What made it all the more embarrassing was that half the dinner hall heard him. Being one of the most popular guys at your college, everybody already knew you two were hooking up, which meant they also knew that he was speaking about you in that moment.

Did he really hate you so much that he had to let the whole student body know?

Mattheo just have seen the horrified looks on his friends faces, because he turned around in the blink of an eye, his gaze landing on you automatically. You were gorgeous. The books you held were covered by your soft hands, the rings that adorned them remind him of how he held your hand while his head was in between your legs, the cold metal pressing into his palm. Your hair that was pushed back by a hairband bringing him back to last night when it was splayed around you like a halo, framing your face like the angel you were. He was almost happy to see you, if it wasn’t for the way your lower lip trembled before you turned away and sped out of the hall.

In his mind, he was running after you and coming up with the best apology he could muster. In reality, though, his feet were glued to the ground, his mouth hung open in shock as he mentally reprimanded himself for letting his fears get the best of him. He was an idiot, really.

If he didn’t fix this soon, he would lose the only thing that made him happy. If he just gave himself over to you, and was honest about his growing feelings for you, maybe you could forgive him.

Instead he let his friends berate him at the table. He let the judgmental eyes of his peers burn into his skill. After all, it was what he deserved for fucking everything up; for losing the one good thing he had left in his miserable life.

That night you spent all your time in your dorm room, wishing that he would gain the courage to come find you.

He never did.

YOUR PHONE WAS bombarded by texts the next morning. Thankfully it was a weekend, so you could spend all day in your room uninterrupted if you so wished.

Switching your phone to silent mode, you dropped your head onto your pillow. Seeing Mattheo’s name pop up in your notifications only made your morning worse. He had some nerve to text you. He should be groveling and pleading for forgiveness, not shying away behind a screen like a coward.

Little did you know, Mattheo was in a similar position as you. His hand was gripping the mobile device to his chest, head pressing into the plush mattress below him.

It was in quiet moments like these that he felt the most vulnerable. When the silence of the room enveloped him, and his ears rang from the lack of sound, his mind drifted to images of you. A distinct memory of his was the first time he realized he couldn’t kick you to the curb like he had initially hoped - his heart clenched at the mere thought of seeing your adorable features shift into a somber, sad one. He hated the thought of seeing you teary eyed and upset, but in his attempt at protecting both his and your hearts, he only ended up saving his own ass and hurting you in the process.

Eyes staring at the ceiling, he sighed, hand rubbing down his face. He wasn’t surprised that you thought he didn’t care about you, but you didn’t know that he traced the words ‘I love you’ on your skin when you slept in his arms, your bare chest pressing against his own beating heart. He wished he could tell you with his mouth instead of only his fingertips.

Mattheo groaned, slapping a pillow over his face in an attempt to stop his racing thoughts.

If he could take back everything he said, he would. You meant more to him than he could understand, you were everything to him. During the many times you’ve spent in his dorm, your face pressed into his shoulder as you snored, he wished be could just open up and tell you what he truly felt for you. But the thought itself was daunting - he was barely able to admit it to himself that he was in love with you.

He shouldn’t have let this go on for as long as it did, it was inevitable that your intoxicating nature would pull him in and make him question everything. You were everything he’s ever wanted, how could he not love you?

Cringing at himself for the nth time that morning, he decided that enough was enough. He either needed to man up and confess or finally let you go to find your peace.

A knock sounded on your door twenty minutes later. You didn’t have to check to know who it was, but you figured that if he came, it was better that it was now rather than never. You opened the wooden door and your face was met with a disheveled looking Mattheo. Any other day you’d let him in in an instant, ready to ask him about his day before being pressed into the mattress, his fingers massaging that one spot that you could never seem to reach yourself.

“What do you want?” you asked, your tone making Mattheo flinch in embarrassment and shame. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid - but look at him now.

“I wanted - I needed to explain myself.”

You shook your head. You didn’t need his pity, nor his half-assed apologies. If that was truly how he felt, then so be it. You could eventually learn to live with it. “You made yourself pretty clear. Quite publicly, I might add.”

Mattheo gently forced himself inside, his broad stature a contrast to how small you felt in the moment. He closed the door behind him and you only stepped back, trying to create as much space as possible between you and him. If he got any closer you knew you would give in and let him take you into his arms, and most likely to your bed.

Why did you let yourself fall for his lies when everybody warned you against it?

“Please just hear me out,” he said, his hands clasping together in a silent plea. There was no doubt he wasn’t going to leave until he said what he needed to, so you gestured with your hand for him to continue.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said. I wasn’t thinking, I-“ he stopped to collect his thoughts. He wasn’t really sure where he was going with this, but he knew that he had to make up his mind now whether he was gonna take a step forward, or several steps back.

“Mattheo, it’s okay.”

Stopping in his tracks, he gave you a puzzled look. It’s okay? Surely he heard that wrong. The look in your eyes when you heard what came out of his mouth was something he wasn’t going to forget any time soon.

“Is it…?” Mattheo said, confused.

You took a step forward. One last time. You would let yourself be wrapped up in his arms, his lips touching all the right places just one last time. There was a big chance that this wasn’t going anywhere, and if the situationship was going to end, you wanted it to end on a good note.

“The only thing you’re committed to is getting me into bed,” you quoted, your voice lowering a few octaves as you reached to push some hair from his eyes. Mattheo’s breath hitched, and all the facts were linking together. He was a bigger idiot than he initially thought.

He wanted to say so much, to tell you that he didn’t mean anything he said, but his words got stuck in his throat at your gentle touch. You were always able to turn him into a puddle of mush with the smallest of movements.

“So take me to bed. I don’t need you to be someone you’re not - you don’t want me, and I don’t want you if you’re only just tolerating me. Maybe one day you can be the man I wish you could be, but today isn’t that day.”

All at once, he felt his world crashing down. Pretty much all of his fears came true - he was going to lose you. Not only that, but he was going to lose because of something that he did, something that he couldn’t change. He was right. Mattheo wasn’t the man you needed, and your clarification only solidified his deepest, darkest abandonment issues.

“Okay,” was all he could get out.

That morning seemed never-ending. Mattheo laid between your thighs for what felt like hours, pouring all of his love for you in the way he moved his lips against you, in the way he left reminders of himself in the shape of purple bruises. Everything he so badly wanted to say was disguised by the swirls of his tongue and slow thrusts of his hips. He planted a million sweet kisses to your cheeks and neck, and if you weren’t so in your own head, you probably would have seen the pained look in his eyes as you fell asleep next to him. For one last time.

Mattheo left shortly after, picking up any remnants of him from your room, and when you woke up, it was almost as if he was never there.

A part of you was disappointed that he didn’t stay. Another part was glad - because it meant that you were right in telling him what you did. You were never enough to make him change his ways, and him leaving before you awoke made the pain easier to handle.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a crumpled piece of paper in Mattheo’s hands as he trudged back to his dorm room. A piece of paper that would never see the light of day.

With his head in his hands, and your head on your tear-stained pillow, you both had an uneasy sleep later that night.

One more time, Mattheo let himself get carried away with flimsy feelings of love and affection. And if he had it his way, this would hopefully be the last, too.

©𝐜𝐫𝐯𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐟

#mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle scenarios #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys imagine #slytherin boys #harry potter fanfic #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter angst #matheo riddle

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ssparksflyy · 18 hours

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dating jason grace hcs! (ᴗ͈ ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

pairing jason grace x child of hermes!reader summary based off this request !! an lin manuel as hermes no matter how much i pretend to hate youre iconic and i actually love you

"okokokok" and "lalalala" who ???

people were so surprised when you started dating since youre literal opposites ?!?!

youre so chill and laid back and fun

jason straightens up so quick and salutes if somebody yells attention

but since he's met you, he's definitely relaxed a little more

he's learnt to accept the fact that he can actually relax at times and just enjoy himself ?!?!?!? (shocking, right)

and you were the one who taught him that !!

it honestly started when your first met

cause he was training by himself after lessons had finsihed

you were walking around with your siblings, just passing by and decided to ask him if he wanted to go to the fireworks show that was being held that night ♡

cause like youd seen him around camp before, always helping someone out with someone, and youd be lying if you said you didnt think he was cute 😋 (i sound like a nine year old omg bye)

so what better time to ask than now !

i could lie and say he was super chill about it but lets be honest he was already smitten before you could even finish the question

dropped his sword, face all red and everythinggg 😵‍💫

(you tease him about this now, but he just fights it with a corny "guess you stole my heart" that makes you cringe and roll your eyes yet still smile)

he tried to act all cool and say he'd think about it when in reality he was already getting ready to run to the aphrodite cabin and ask piper for help

i love tlh trio so much i just know jason would be panicking about the whole thing and piper's trying to reassure him + give genuine advice while leo is just messing around 😭

he did manage to get some tips and you ended spending the whole nights talking and laughing instead of actually watching the fireworks ♡♡

he walked you back to your cabin and by then you both established big ol' crushes on each other (aw ya cuties)

the amount of teasing you got from your cabin that night was actually crazy though

you were last to get in that night and entered to a whole chorus of 'oooooo's

a few thrown pillows and 'connor i swear to the gods i will push you off the lava wall-'s later and you were finally able to go to sleep though ♡

the teasing and jokes never stop

even when you (finally) started dating

its your cabin's love language honestly

your younger siblings are OBSESSED with jason

hes actually so good with kids bye

he just 'treats them the way he wished he was treated as a kid :(

his words not mine i dont talk like im giving an anti-bullying assembly

but like he loves playing with them

instant besties !

he even helped them prank you one time :o

he felt so devious doing it good lord

real i was a bad girl i did some bad things yaknow

literally all he did was distract you as your siblings taped a balloon full of water and got a dart pin ready to pop it when you walked into the door

but he was all giggly when the prank succeeded

only for like 5 seconds cause then he was helping you dry off and apologizing

you didnt minddddd, it was fun seeing him act like a "rebel"

okay call me crazy but like trackstar power couple

hermes kids are fast, known fact, evidence? tlt musical said so

and i feel like jupiter/zeus kids would be too!! like moving at the speed of lightning hyperbole... please tell me you see the vision

but like being able to use that as an excuse to get some time away from people... the scandal.

jason telling the group he's with (not necessarily close friends, he knows he can just tell them that he's going out with you) that he's going out for a run

youll be flushed when you return-

when really he's ditching them to go hang out with you

cause this man can NOT say no. he's a people pleaser man it's hardwired into our brains

and they'll think it's normal cause like jasons weird

why question the kid who likes musicals and history

do you see where this is going.

jason taking you to watch opening night of hamilton cause he's been bouncing off the walls for it and really wanted to show you so he'd have someone to talk to about it after :)

it started off fun!!

you were both really enjoying the beginning! well, the first minute and twenty seconds of it at least

cause after that you lost your shit :D

your dad was literally on stage, a few hundred feet away from you, acting as a founding father

the rest of the show you were internally freaking out, questioning everything

jason had no clue, not until you told him during intermission

had the AUDACITY to say "...and thats how you were born" after the traumatizing experience of say no to this

after the show you chased you dad down on the street as he was trying to get 'home'

jason was lowkey giggling the whole time like he was not taking this serious at alllll

but hey he got to meet your dad !!

hermes likes jason, thinks he's a very distinguished gentleman

jason likes hermes, thinks he's pretty good at rapping

at least one of you gained something from that experience

not proofread !

#these are short but i desperately needed to get something out !!#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #jason grace #jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #by bells ♡⋆ ࣪.

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faghubby · 9 hours

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Ever after

I grunted and moaned as Phoebe removed the strapon from my ass.

"Wow, you took every inch" she said playfully smacking my ass. I heard the heavy toy hit the floor.

"You know what I need now" Phoebe giggled she removed her panties and spread her legs at the head of the bed. I moved a little slow after having my ass stretched out. I tasted saw his dried cum on her engorged lips. But I didn't hesitate. Licking and sucking her used pussy.

"You better stop humping the bed, you will chafe with that cage on" Phoebe laughed playing with my hair. As she calmed from the orgasm I had just given her.

"You could taste him couldn't you? Yes I did it. I let a man consumate our marriage for you" Phoebe told me. It was a fantasy I had expressed to her to have her sleep with other men. But until now it had been a game. Something she teased me about.

"Yes I love you" I told her. I so wanted her to unlock me. Instead she got up and went to shower.

"Phoebe" I pleaded grabbing her hand.

"What is it" she smiled knowing exactly what I wanted.

"It's our wedding night" I pleaded.

"Paul, today you promised to honor me. And to do that you will never ask me to unlock your little penis ever again." She told me cupping my cheek and kissed me.

"You didn't even ask who" she smiled. I hung my head. As she went to shower. I got up and cleaned her new strapon she had gotten for tonight. It was heavy, much bigger then the cute pink one we had been using for the last 6 months. This one was realistic looked like a big black cock. 7 maybe 8 inches insertable. With huge balls at the bass. And thick that I could just touch my index finger to my thumb around it. Phoebe got out of the shower as I washed it.

"If you're going to jerk him off you might as well suck it" she laughed. I frowned not amused. But so wanting her to unlock me. I jokingly held it to my lips. Phoebe stopped inner tracks.

"Go ahead then, I will teach you how" she giggled. I put the toy down and she frowned and went into the bedroom.

"Shower!" Phoebe stopped me. Maybe try a cold one" I went back and showered. When I finished Phoebe was already in bed asleep. I noticed she was naked so I slept naked as well.

"Jesus Christ, you leaked everywhere" Phoebe cursed waking me up. I had a wet dream. I had not had one since I was 14. But with being locked up for over a month and all the teasing and expectations. I guess it was to much.

"Obviously can't have you wetting the bed every night" she got uo showered dressed and went out without me.

"Strip the bed, and clean up. I don't want the maid discovering you wet the bed" she was angry. I got dressed as well and order room service. Phoebe returned within 30 minutes.

"Here" shs handed me a box of pantieliners. You can wear these and it will catch all your messes" she smiled. I stared at the box. How would these work with my boxers and I wasn't going to. But before I even finished my thought. Phoebe handed me a package of panties.

"Go try them on" she told me.

"Phoebe this is too far" I told her.

"You will wear them or never spend another night in my bed" she said sternly. I went to change.

"No here, now" she told me. I dropped my shorts. As she opened the package of six cotton panties. All in bright pastel colors and designs.

"I got you bikini, but if you prefer a different style we can try them too" she handed me a pair of pink panties. She had me slide them on and stop to show me how to put in the liner. Then pulled them up. Only then did I put my shorts back on. We went to explore the resort. But Phoebe had me wait in the hall a moment before she joined me. We spent a lovely day exploring the little village nearby. We had a late lunch back at the hotel. Where Phoebe stopped me from ordering a drink. When the waiter walked away to bring me back a virgin frozen cocktail.

"I would like you to give up alcohol. Unless I hand it too you. I want you to never drink again" Phoebe said.

"Why, I never had a problem" I said.

"I just want you to. I feel it may make you forget your place" she told me her foot pushed into my crotch. I wasn't going to have this fight now. So I just nodded. We returned to the room. I immediately saw the strapon and lube on display. I was horrified had the maid pulled it out. I had buried it in the bottom of my suit case. Phoebe immediately started putting it on mover her shorts.

"Leave only your panties on, and get on the bed" Phoebe ordered. I did as she said. She pulled my panties down only to expose my ass. She applied lube and then pushed her cock into my ass.

"You love my big cock don't you?" Phoebe teased. I just grunted as she made forceful thrust but then pulled it back very slow only to repeat the process.

"We are going to have a different kind of marriage together. I want you to except your place" she told me thrusting deep to make her point. "You asked for this, first it was tease, then chastity. Which led to you wanting ass play. Now you are wearing panties and want to learn to suck cock" she pointed out. I tried to speak but she thrust again. "You even let me have another man. A real man consumate our marriage. All you did was clean up his mess" she scolded me. When Phoebe felt I had enough she just calmly pulled out fixed my panties and had me suck her pussy till she came.

This continued everyday. We would spent the day exploring or on the beach. Where she made me wear a speedo. Some nights out dancing or just at the bar( I always ordered virgin cocktails) but once a day she would fuck me. Followed by me going down on her. Sometimes she made me make her cum twice.

She dragged me shopping one afternoon. I was just following her holding her bags.

"How about these" she held up a pair of pink lace panties" she said with a smile. "Let's see you are a large" she continued as she looked thru the rack.

"Phoebe!" I said in a sharp whispered.

"Don't be such a baby" she told me. Then picked out several different types. She had me go up and pay for them. Everyday ones are fine but you need to spice things up as well" she told me as we left. "And I know you are wearing your last clean pair" I wanted to comment that I knew she had stopped wearing panties all together but held my tounge.

"Try on the thong, I want to see if it fits" Phoebe told me as we got back to the room. I changed as she strapped on her cock. It did fit just big enough to hold the cage. Phoebe pulled the thong to the side and fucked me. With a fury. She pounded me. The toy now easily slipped in and out of my ass. She was exhausted by the time she stopped.

"On the dresser there I had room service pick up some things for you" I opened the bag and found hair removal cream, pink disposable razors, ladies shaving gel, and flowery smelling body lotion.

"I want you to remove all that manly hair, you don't deserve it any more" Phoebe told me. I stared at her was she serious.

"When we go home, I expect you to take on the wifely duties around the house. I think if you feel and look girlie it will help you remember your place" Phoebe told me from the bed. This 5'2. 110lbs woman was telling me I was no longer a man.

"Phoebe I am drawing the line" I told her. She got up her toy still attached she grabbed my head as she stood on the bed and pulled me towards her toy. She shoved it in my face.

"Bitch you want nothing more then me to make you suck this dirty cock. So don't tell me you finally decided to play at being a man" she cursed rubbing the dirty toynacross my face.

I was crying as I pulled away and took the bag of stuff into the bathroom. Phoebe came in only to unlock the cage then left. I read the instructions on the hair removal. Even watched a video. Before I began. About an hour later I was rubbing the lotion over my entire body. I had even removed the hair on my arms. I so wanted to play with myself. But instead went to show Phoebe.

"I am proud of you, you didn't even play with your clitty" she smiled. Phoebe stood and pulled off her shorts. She wore simple white panties. "As a reward you can dry hump my pantied ass" she got on all fours on the bed. I got behind her. My hands ran up her thighs and across her ass. I rubbed my cock against her panties. Caught in the moment I jumped her ass. It only took a few minutes to cum all over her panties, cum pumped out of me soaking her panties.

"That's exactly what I thought." Phoebe laughed as she got uo and stripped off her panties. I laid there I felt such relief. "A real man would of tore my panties off and fucked me with all that frustration. But no you where happy to just spill your mess on my panties" Phoebe started to lock my cage back on.

"You will never be inside anyone ever again" Phoebe said kissing me. The last three days of our trip. She barely touched me. Still allowing me to orally please her twice a day. She wore more reveling outfits and slept naked. She also chose the sexiest panties for me to wear. As soon as returned home. We barely got the bags in the house when Phoebe told me she was going out.

"Where we just got home?" I asked

"Not that it is any of your business but I haven't been fucked in 10 days I am going to get laid" she told me, she went to the bedroom. Stunned I followed her.

"What? Who? Phoebe can we talk about this" I pleaded. As I watched her put on lingerie I had never seen before.

"He will like this, don't you think?" She asked me. Throwing on a simple sundress over it. Slipped on some high heels and kissed me goodbye. "Be back later, you should unpack and do the laundry." Then paused. "Your fancy panties need to be hand washed" she smiled one last time and left. I sent out texts to family we had made it home safe. Telling her side as well. I unpacked, even stored the suitcases away. Long before Phoebe returned home. It was late she had been gone for 10 hours. She looked a mess. Her hair and makeup smeared. She kicked off her shoes and dropped her dress. It was obvious that her panties where soaked cum even ran down her thigh.

"Come lick me clean" Phoebe told me. I followed her. I peeled her panties off and licked her lovers cum.

"That's right you know what to do" she cooed rubbing my head.

"His name is Michael" she told me. She didn't let me stop until I had even licked her thigh clean.

"You won't have to worry about me being satisfied Michael does a wonderful job at that" Phoebe told me as she held me after I had finished.

"You do understand your place, I gave you you what you needed. I know it might not of been what you thought you wanted. But I am sure it's what you needed to happen." Phoebe explained. Tears formed in my eyes.

"What do you want ?" Phoebe asked gently. I just nodded towards the drawer we kept toys in.

"Okay go get it" Phoebe told me. I got up and pulled out the strapon. Phoebe stood and had me strap it on her. I was on my knees adjusting the straps. The toy rubbed against my face. Phoebe took hold of it. And held it to my lips. I parted them and let the toy slip into my mouth.

"I sucked Michael's big cock today to" she giggled. I started to bob on her cock. "You are doing well. Relax allow yourself to gag it makes more saliva" she told me. After a few minutes " over time you will get much better at it. Don't forget his balls" she ran her fingers thru my hair.

"Do you want to practice more or?" She giggled. I stooped and removed it from my mouth. She undressed me. Kissing my chest and running her hands over me she laid me on the bed. On my back. She mounted me. She made love to me. Her cock gently moving in and out of my ass. As we kissed and cuddled each other. Eventually she just held me her cock buried inside me.

"This is the life you want with me, lovers will satisfy me. But I love you. You are my soul mate. I just need a man to satisfy me" Phoebe told me. I just kissed her.

"I love you too" I told her.

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heartoftheancientsea · 1 year

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It’s so disturbing how unsure of myself I am whenever I have to make a difficult decision that prioritizes my own wellbeing and values. I continue to break my own heart by wondering if I made the wrong choice even though I didn’t.

#yes this is about that guy again #I had finally mostly gotten over it and then he decided to call #he was being so flirty and telling me he still loved me #so I was like yeah right lol. not trying to get my hopes up for that nonsense.#so after chatting for a while I asked him if he’s slept with anyone #he got extremely defensive and kinda mad that I asked.#he basically said that I ruined the whole conversation we just had by asking him that.#🙄 eyeroll #so I told him straight up that he’s a fuckboy. he had plenty of chance to be with me. I asked him to be my boyfriend months ago and HE said #that we need to get to know each other more.#okay…. so I waited months and months of us just talking and falling in love and I thought it would happen eventually #but it never did. so I walked away. and instead of him manning up and doing something about it #he goes and fucks other women? and then tries to come back and be romantic with me?#I told him that’s absolutely NOT happening. I can never be with you romantically ever again.#part of me wonders if that was too harsh of a decision and maybe I shouldnt have said it because I still love him 😞#but the majority of me knows it was the right thing to do.#while I was over here absolutely heartbroken and distraut over him unable to even think about being with another person in the same context #he was out there fucking other women and saying god knows what type of romantic shit to them #I could puke

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fairy-angel222 · 1 month

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𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍’𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃? 𝐈’𝐌 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒, 𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹

prisoner! sukuna x psychologist! reader

✧ synopsis: you’ve been assigned to the supposed most ‘dangerous’ prisoner, sukuna. but what happens when you two start to fall for each other instead?

✧ cw: smut, quick paced, semi public sex, risky sex, choking, kissing, pussy eating, blow jobs, breeding, creampie, fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, age gap

✧ wc: 4.7k

✧ a/n: i am not a doctor and i am especially not specialized in psychology. i have made up all of this. also don’t sleep with murderers unless it’s sukuna

Your heels clicked loudly on the stained prison tiles. The echo of your soft footsteps trailing along the narrow walls of the enclosed hallway.

Sukuna.

That was the prisoner you were assigned to. A man who had killed more people than you’d met in your entire life as a doctor, a psychologist at that. So you’d met a lot of people.

Two guards trailed closely behind you, glaring warningly at the inmates who smirked as you walked past the line of cells. A collection of whistles and cheers sounding at the mere sight of a woman as attractive as yourself.

How long had it been since they’d seen one after all.

“Hey Doc… you sure you wanna take this case.. i mean, i don’t doubt ya or anything but this one.. he’s bad. Dangerous.”

“Now what kind of doctor would i be if i feared a little danger. He’s still a patient.” You smiled, ignoring the way your hairs stood as you were led deeper into the institution. The part where they held those deemed a danger to society.

Those who had a no chance of even seeing sunlight again.

You were nervous, your heart thumping loudly in your chest when you scanned your surroundings. There weren’t any cells. There were only.. rooms. Fully enclosed rooms with a singular window for passing food.

Every part of your being begged for you to turn around and run. To not even interact with whoever sat on the other side of that door. And you froze when bright red eyes pierced into yours. The rest of his face casted behind a dark shadow as his head tilted back. Giving you sight to the small smirk creeping onto his features.

“Doc, i really think that-” It was the other guard who spoke up. Both of them holding nothing on their features but fear. It was clear that they never even bothered with Sukuna. The rumors had been enough to make every guard turn a blind eye.

“Hey, it’s fine. Okay? This is what i do.” It really was. The guard gave you a curt nod and a sigh when you clasped both his hands in your smaller one. Offering him a reassuring nod.

“If anything happens, us and about five others are stationed close. Good luck Doc.”

You gave him a small thanks, your head held high as the door was pulled open roughly. Revealing a pink haired man who sat on his bed against the walls, his eyebrow raising when you dared to step inside. Nodding to the guard to close the door.

You might as well have been a dead woman.

“You’re scared.” His deep voice rung out, keeping his eyes on you as you pulled out a small chair that was tucked away near the sink.

“And how do you know, Sukuna?” Your tone was steady, letting out a breath when the shakiness you felt wasn’t reflected in your voice.

Sukuna hummed, his smirk widening when you spoke to him like a normal being. To stuttering, no harshness. Just your sweet voice saying his name. “I can smell it, Doc.” He loved the way you tried to hide your squirm under his gaze.

“So, Sukuna. Tell me something about yourself.” You steered away from his accusation, holding eye contact even when he leaned forward. Taking you in from head to toe. You were hot, he liked that. You seemed to like being confident too. And God did you smell fucking delicious.

He wanted to eat you alive.

Break you.

Use you.

He really did. But you were so fascinating, and he’d only just met you. Who knew how entertaining you could be.

“I’ve killed people.” He was blunt, eyes almost begging you to keep asking these ridiculous questions. It was making his cock twitch.

“Well Sukuna, that is common knowledge, don’t ya think? I wanna know something else.. tell me a secret hmm?” You leaned forward with a smile, elbows rested on your knees as you looked to him for a response.

He reciprocated your actions, leaning forward until you felt his hot breath fan over your face. “A secret huh? Alright Doc..” he watched as your breathing sped up, using every strength in your body to not pull back. You were brave, he liked that. “I surprisingly don’t wanna kill you right now.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“I said right now, didn’t say anything about later.” He pushed away from you, one of his knees up to his chest when he leaned back against the concrete wall behind him. “Let me ask you, Doctor. Are you stupid?”

Your head tilted at where this was going. You were supposed to be the one asking the questions. But a conversation was two sided, this would’ve made things easier. “I’d like to believe not. Why do you ask?”

“Because you really think that if i try to kill you, some measly guards would come to your rescue.” He scoffed.

“But you don’t want to kill me. That’s all that matters.”

Fair.

Sukuna watched as you took a quick peek down at his files. There was something that you missed, that much was evident. “Finally found it huh?”

“I haven’t found anything that i didn’t see before.” You objected, glancing to the door with your lip hanging loosely between your teeth.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” He demanded lowly, watching with lidded eyes as you let your plump bottom lip, slick after running your tongue over it, fall back into place. Sukuna breathed deeply, finally looking away from you as he swallowed hard. Closing his eyes with his head rested behind him.

There was something about you that he wanted a taste of. It was driving him crazy..er, “I never did anything to these other doctors. They were just weak. Got scared way too fast.”

“And what did you do to scare them away?”

“Nothing.” He spat, “They came in here acting all high and mighty, talked to me like i was beneath them. So i simply didn’t bother to hide how much i wanted to strangle them. And somehow that makes me the bad guy right Doc?”

You shook your head, “No, you have a right to respect too. They should never have treated you as unequals.” Lying was all in the job description.

“Good try Doc. But you and i both know that’s a load of crap.” He finally peeled his eyes back open, and you couldn’t help your mind from wandering to how attractive he was in the dim light. He was extremely built, and had the facial structure that made you clench your thighs. “Now, we gonna finish our game of twenty one questions or not?”

He was actually being cooperative.

“Yes we are. How about i start?”

“I’ll start.” There was no room for objection in his tone. “What’s your name?”

You contemplated whether to tell him or not, eventually letting it out with ease. Though you missed the small smile tugging at his lips when he muttered a small “cute.”

“My turn, what was your childhood like?” You watched his face grow cold, a small glare being directed at anything in the room but you. “Next question.”

“Sukuna..”

“I said next question. How old are you?”

You sighed, “I’m twenty eight.” His eyes widened, that was extremely young for a doctor. “Is there one good memory you have from before you killed for the first time?”

“I had twin kittens. Do you have a boyfriend?”

You were taken aback by the question, mouth opening and closing a few times before you chuckled. “No. I do not have a boyfriend.”

“Good.”

You jumped when the door was yanked open, the guard eyeing Sukuna warily before nodded to you. “Your time’s up, Doc.”

“Oh, already? Could we get just a few more minutes?”

“You know how dangerous he is Doc.. we can’t risk it.”

“You heard the man. I’m dangerous, Doctor.”

You nibbled at your lips softly, and Sukuna fought a groan as you did exactly what he warned you not to. Standing up, you gave Sukuna a warm smile, the gesture making his stomach get all weird inside. “Goodbye until our next session Sukuna.”

He only hummed, the door being shut behind you as you were led away.

It was back to darkness.

There was more than enough light, sure. But it suddenly felt so empty without you there.

—

You couldn’t keep Sukuna off your mind when you arrived home. A part of you just really wanted to figure him out. The other actually liked his company.

You must’ve been so sick in the head. Splashing your face with cold water as you mentally scolded yourself. What was wrong with you? He was a criminal.

—

The next morning you walked the path that you had taken the previous day to get to Sukuna. This time without the guards following you.

There was only one who stood outside of the door to let you in with a small nod of acknowledgement.

Sukuna’s head perked up at the familiar clicking of those heels you wore. His signature smirk on his face as he stared you down. “Just couldn’t get enough huh Doc? Aren’t you forgetting that i’m dangerous?”

You took a seat, no file in had this time. “Good morning Sukuna, how are you?”

“If i said better now that you’re here, would that be cliché?”

You laughed, an actual laugh. A sweet one that made his heart flutter the tiniest bit while blood rushed to his groin.

“It’s very good to see you too. How about we get started yeah?” You paused as you collected your thoughts. “You seem to be heavily affected by people calling you.. dangerous. Why?”

“Everybody is dangerous. It just takes pushing at the right buttons to get it out of them. Half of the people here have done just as bad as i have yet i’m the only dangerous one. Makes so much sense right?.”

He shook his head. “Tell me Doctor, do you really think i just happened to get caught? That i couldn’t get out of this damn place if i wanted too? Hell, tell me you realize that i could drop a good twenty more bodies right here, right now.”

You shifted in your seat. “I think that you let yourself get caught because you’re tired. Because there’s a small sense of peace you get from being in here. And i think that you aren’t trying to leave because you don’t want to.”

“You almost had it Doc. See, i was well on my way out until you came. So i might stick around for just a little bit longer.”

Your heart fluttered, for you? Giving up on fighting the rational side of you as you continued to engage in conversation. Getting Sukuna to slowly open up to you more.

“Do you have any friends Sukuna?”

“I don’t consider people friends. They just exist alongside me.”

“If I asked you to be your friend, what would you say?” It was routine, but you really were curious.

“I’d say you came be whatever you want to be Doc.”

Another flutter.

“Have you ever been in love Sukuna?”

He was silent, jaw clenching as his gaze got harsh. “Next question.”

“What was she like?”

“I said next fucking question Doctor.”

“And i said, what was she like?” You leaned forward, pressing for him to answer the question.

“You’re stubborn aren’t you? I wonder what my hand would loom like around that pretty little neck.” He grinned, sharp teeth peeling from beneath his lips as he brought his face to yours. “She was a lot like you.”

“What happened to her?” You knew how touchy that question would’ve been.

“Nothing. The bitch left.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry.”

He stared at you in confusion, “I never said she died.”

“Yes. But that’s only physically. When she broke your heart she died to you. And that hurts just as bad.”

He was silent, studying your eyes. Trying to get a read on you. “What else do you want to know Doc?”

You were getting somewhere.

Sukuna found you smart. Thought that you knew a lot. Found it hot how good you were at cracking him. But it pissed him off that the one thing you didn’t seem to pick up was how much it hurt to watch you leave at the end of each session.

—

A week later had led to a Monday morning where you hadn’t gone to the prison. You had quite an agenda for the day that could cost you your job if you didn’t get it done.

That was something Sukuna was obviously clueless about. It was why he thought you’d just decided to up and go after he had just started liking to have you around. After he’d started opening up to you.

It was also why he was causing a fit. Yelling at guards to get you to him now. That he wanted to see you. Needed to see you. A line of men laying knocked out atop each other from being sent to ‘handle’ the crazed prisoner.

Would you really not come back? Would you really abandon him? It seemed like that was common with the people he cared even the slightest for.

Sukuna’s fist met the wall near his bed, knuckles bloodied as he cracked into the hard surface. Chest heaving up and down heavily when his hands reached to tug at strands of pink.

He blinked when he heard the clicking of heels on the tiles. Immediately scowling at the unfamiliarity of them. “Who the fuck is this?” He growled through the small window.

“This is Dr Smith, she’s-”

“I don’t fucking care who she is. Bring me my doctor. Now.”

—

Back at your flat, you dropped the piles of paper in front of you at the sound of your phone ringing.

It was a number you didn’t have saved.

“Hello, Doctor ___ speaking- yes? Oh my. I- i am so sorry. Yes, i will be there right away.”

What had you done?

You practically ran through the halls after parking outside the building. Finding many guards posted outside his door with guns in hand. Some of them spotting very black and blue eyes.

“You can all go now.” You panted, it was clear that you had been in a hurry. “Please.”

They all shared a look, finally walking away and allowing you to slowly open the door.

“Where were you?”

“I’m really sorry Sukuna. I was so busy today and-” you gasped when a hand reached out to wrap around your neck. Slamming you into the wall behind you with his face buried in your neck.

Sukuna inhaled your floral scent, groaning to himself as his grip on your delicate skin tightened. “So you just left me here today? Am i not as important as your other little patients? Is that it hmm?”

Deep down, you had hurt his feelings. And he couldn’t help the way he clung to you as your hand lifted to his cheek. Turning his face to look down at yours.

“N-no i promise you. You’re just as important as anyone else. I would have never missed our session if i didn’t have to.”

“Make it up to me.”

It was the perfect opportunity.

“W-what?”

“Strip for me Doctor.” He let go of your neck, letting you catch your breath while looking up at him timidly.

“Sukuna..”

“Why so shy now doctor? We both know you want to.”

You shook your head, shrinking under his gaze with a protesting whisper. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Sukuna. This is very unprofession— ahh.”

Sukuna brought his knee up between your thighs, pressing it into your clothed clit. His lips ghosted over your ear, hot breath fanning your skin as he breathed deeply. “You can always leave if you want to. I’m used to that after all.”

You shifted on your feet when your back arched. A small whine leaving your mouth when he pulled away from you and gestured to the door.

He smirked, “Blouse first.”

You bit your lip, unbuttoning your shirt until your bra was on display. The heavy swell of your breasts causing Sukuna’s mouth to water when he nodded to the bra.

With your eyes still on his you let your breasts spring out of their confinement. Two pert nipples pointing right at him as his dick rose. His hand palming himself under the pair of black pants with a shiver. “C’mere.”

You walked over to him on shaky legs. Sitting down on his lap with your head to the floor. “Uh uh,” His hand reached under the your chin to force your eyes back on his. “None of that Doc.”

You moaned when his tongue swirled around one of your nipples. Sucking your breast into his mouth while he palmed at the other. “These are even more perfect outside that tight fucking shit of yours.”

Sukuna watched as you shivered when he ran his finger down your belly. Cupping your clothed cunt with the jerk of his hips into your ass. “Fuck.. take that off.”

You hurriedly peeled off your pants, Sukuna’s pupils dilating at the sight of your lace panties. “Wore this just f’me hmm Doc? All this for Mr Dangerous.” He groaned out.

Sukuan didn’t give you a chance to respond before flipping you onto the hard mattress they called a bed. Lifting your heel clad feet onto his shoulders with his head hovering over your pussy. His tongue darting out to lick at the wet spot building from your arousal. “You’re real dirty f’ a doctor.” He teased, glancing behind him with a chuckle. “Imagine if you got caught.”

Your eyes shot up to the small window, taking note of the vacant corridor as per your request.

“God, you smell so fucking good. Wanna devour that pretty pussy.” He breathed, large hand ripping the flimsy fabric to expose your glistening folds. “Hmm, this wet all for me.”

You mewled when his long tongue licked a stripe up your slit. Swirling around your clit before sloppily dipping into your hole. His hums sending vibrations through your clit as he lapped at your dripping slick.

“Sukuna—” you mewled, back arching as you reached for his hair. Tugging softly with the curl of your toes when his tongue and fingers swapped places. The two joints fucking up roughly into your g spot as he sucked noisily at your clit. “F-fuckk, nngh— so good.” You cried out, tears welling in the corner of your eyes as your body filled with pleasure.

“Yeah? You like that Doc? Bet you wanna get that greedy cunt stuffed right after.” He grunted, your eyes rolling back in a string of muffled moans as your other hand shot up to your lips.

Your legs began to tremble, Sukuna’s smirk growing wider and wider until he stopped his movements. Watching as you blinked down at him with a sniffled whine.

“You left me. You know how much that fucking hurt? I thought i would never see you again.”

“I’m-”

“You’re sorry. Yeah, yeah.. i know.” He rolled his eyes, crawling over your body with a sigh. Using the pad of his thumb to wipe away a stray tear before pressing his lips to yours. Making you taste yourself on his tongue.

You fell deeper into the kiss, eyes closing in satisfaction as his lips moves hungrily on yours. Pulling away with a string of salvia connected you to him.

“Let’s reverse the roles yeah?” He whispered, standing up to sit in the chair that you usually sat in. “So, my adorable little patient.. put these tiny fingers to work on that clit of yours. I want you to make yourself cum.”

You whimpered, your fingers immediately meeting your sensitive clit with a shiver.

“You know what to do.” He encouraged. Your fingers beginning to rub small circles on the small bud before speeding up. Little gasps and moans falling past your lips as your stomach burned with heat.

Your eyes locking onto Sukuna’s red ones as his head tilted. Just like it had the first day you met him. “Ahh, K-kuna. Fuckk.” You cried, head falling back with your eyes still on his. The primal look in his eyes making your insides flutter as he did nothing but watch you. Not even freeing his painfully hard cock.

“Sukuna— c-can’t. Can’t hold it.” Your voice cracked, body shaking lightly as your orgasm washed over you.

“Yes you can.”

“Nngh, can’t Kuna. Need to let go.”

He stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity, your breathing getting heavy as you desperately waited on his permission.

He leaned his head back, eyes boring into your fingers working your wet cunt before nodding. “Go ahead.”

You came with a silent moan, body spasming uncontrollably as your pussy leaked onto his only pair of sheets.

“Dirty, dirty girl. Look at that mess.” You shied away feom his gaze. “And look at how hard you made me. Come fix it.”

You stood on wobbly feet, barely able to balance in your heels as you fell to your knees before him. Looking up at him through your lashes while pulling down his pants.

You blinked at the mere size of his bulge. He was huge. Tugging off his underwear to reveal his thick, veiny length. Pointing up to the sky with a fiery red tip. “Suck.”

You took him past your lips, barely able to take even half of him before he hit the back of your throat. Your fist stroking all the parts of him you couldn’t take.

Sukuna groaned, head flinging back with another strained one at how good your mouth felt. “S-shit doc. You really got a mouth on ya.” He gasped, eyes meeting yours as you attempted to take him down your throat. Your drool coating both your lips and his cock as you lewdly sucked him off.

He took your head into his hold, letting you do your own thing as he grunted with each jerk of his hips. Defined abs tensing when he grew closer to his release.

“Fuck Doc, gon’ shoot my cum down that tight throat of yours.” He breathed. Holding you down onto him as you gagged and sputtered lightly, Sukuna’s cock twitching before you felt the warm liquid run down your throat.

“Wish i could fuck that pussy so bad.” He let go of your head, wiping a drop of his cum from your chin before pushing his finger past your lips. Watching as you sighed in content while sucking every last drop. “It’s too bad that in about one minute those guards are gonna come get you Doc. Our session is over.”

You had no time to question how he knew. Scurrying to redress with widened eyes.

Sukuna may not have had a clock. Nor was he able to distinctly see the sun rise and set. But he’d learned to count the seconds when you were around. He knew how much time he had with you.

“And… now.”

At that very moment the door swung open. Sukuna having easily pulled back up his pants after giving you your seat back. Both of you looking as professional as you possibly could.

“See you tomorrow Doc.” He smiled innocently, watching as you scrambled out while avoiding his eyes.

You really fucked up now.

It was hard to keep him out of your mind before. But now, trying was futile. You’d gotten a taste and you needed more. Which was why your brain would not let you close your eyes without thinking of him fucking you.

—

The next morning you bit back a whimper as your clit was caught between your rubbing thighs. You had worn a tight pencil skirt with no panties. Just for Sukuna.

You were thankful that the guards had complied to your wishes of them leaving.

You wanted to stop yourself. To go back home and forget about the red eyed prisoner. He may not have been dangerous to you physically. But to your heart and mind.. he’d be the death of you.

When the door closed behind you, you found yourself bring pushed roughly into the same wall as last time. Sukuna letting out an animalistic groan as he captured your lips on his. Kissing you so much more feverishly than yesterday.

“You don’t know how much i need you. Didn’t even sleep last night.” He panted, turning you around so that your chest rested against the concrete surface. “Missed you so much Doc.” His voice softened, kissing down your neck while grinding up into you. His fingers finding their way under your skirt with a smirk against your skin. “And i thought you couldn’t get any dirtier.. no panties huh?”

You moaned when he prodded at your already dripping cunt. The thought of him being enough to have gotten you soaked. “Shit- tell me what you want Doc. Let me hear you say it.” He growled lowly, ready to snap the second the words left your mouth.

“Please— please fuck me.”

Sukuna hungrily shoved your skirt up. The fabric bunching at your hips as he freed his aching cock. Both of you letting out a noise of satisfaction when he sunk into you, his large hands holding tightly onto your hips to pull you into him. Your back arching as your hands shot out to the wall for support.

“O-ohh God.” You cried loudly, your lips parted in shaky moans as Sukuna’s cock rammed deep near the entrance of your cervix. His veins grazing at your g spot as the fat girth stretched you to your limit.

“Nah baby, ‘s only me.”

“Kunaa— so goood- ahhh.” Tears pooled in your eyes, Sukuna’s hand reaching into your hair to pull you back into his chest. Your nails clawing at the wall in front of you as he destroyed yours.

“Taking me so fucking well. Shit- pussy’s so damn snug.” He husked, hips snapping noisily into yours as he fucked into your walls mercilessly. Basking in the sounds of your choked screams and mewls. The way you sobbed underneath him when your knees buckled.

He was fucking you so hard and deep. Better than anything you’d felt before. His cock slamming into all the places that would drive you crazy.

“The day you fucking leave me i will break outta here Doc. And i will find you. You’re mine got it?” There was a certain seriousness in his voice that made goosebumps arise on your skin. Your salty tears mixing with your drool as they ran down your flushed face.

“And when i do get outta here you’re gonna have my baby Doc. ‘M gonna fuck you again and again till’ i eventually give you my fuck—ing kid.” His breathing became ragged, your body rocking forward with each of his movements.

He smirked. “I’ve fucked ya this dumb already?” His cock twitching inside you as your body moved with his cock like a fleshlight. Your vision blurred as your head grew light, dizzy. You couldn’t think, every roll of Sukuna’s hips clouding your mind as you let an incoherent babble drip off your tongue. Shakily chanting his name when he reached forward to pinch at your clit.

“Look at you. Look so pretty underneath me like this.” His free hand snaked up to your neck, groaning loudly at the feeling of your heart beat on his skin. Pulling you up so your back rested flat against his broad chest, wandering lips meeting your exposed collarbone. “Let go f’me.”

Your body quivered as you tightened around him. Letting out a whimper-like cry as you came messily on his cock. A breathy moan of his own sounding in your ear when his thrusts began to get sloppy.

“Kunaaa.. inside. Want you inside. ‘M on the pill.” You begged, legs giving way as he held you flush against him.

“Whatever you want, Doc.” Slowly coming to a halt as he buried himself inside your warmth, tongue darting out to lick at your tear stained cheeks. Feeling his cock swell as he pumped you full of his cum. Painted your gummy walls in nothing but white

“Looks like i’m sending you back with my cum dripping down your thighs.” He pulled out with a grin. His cum leaking out of your fluttering cunt in small spurts when he used his hands to knead at the flesh of your ass. “Hottest thing i’ve seen in a while.. after you of course.”

You hummed, eyes shutting as you fell into him. Feeling the thick substance slowly dripping down your legs while spreading over your sticky folds. Sukuna stumbled back onto his bed with you on top of him. Your face nestling into his chest with a soft smile. “Hey Doc.. i love ya but those guards are gon’ be back soon.”

‘So worth it.’ Was the one thought branding itself into your mind as your body registered the rough, lust filled fuck.

“Shit.”

—

You and Sukuna had gotten so much closer over yet another week. You had never believed in falling in love that quickly until now. You couldn’t help it. You felt so much better when he was around. Seeing him was the highlight of your day- especially now that you’d convinced for longer sessions.

He felt the same way. You were the second person he had fallen in love with and somehow even harder. You made his heart.. swell. And he was serious about busting out to start a life with you.

“So, your first love. We never finished talking about her.” You smirked, notepad back in hand as you did your job. Sukuna having been stealing small kisses from you between every question.

“How about we forget about my first love and focus on my current one. You.”

#jujutsu kaisen smut #divider by cafekitsune #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x you #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut

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oceantornadoo · 3 months

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bad day (simon riley x reader, best friends to lovers)

honestly, you should have seen it coming. staying in a safe house with four men who have never ending stomachs? but today, it was the last straw.

“you ate my last cookie?”

soap’s face dropped, jaw open. your voice was on the verge of breaking, tears forming in your eyes. you never showed this much vulnerability in front of the team, and he was flabbergasted. he shot a look at gaz, who was equally as confused. “‘m sorry, bonnie, i didnae ken-“ you pushed your hands on the table, shoving your chair back and out. “it’s ok. gonna take a nap.” you were wiping your eyes furiously, feeling unstable. first you got your period four days early (asking price to add pads to the shopping list was something you never wanted to experience again), then you couldn’t find your heating pad, and now your cookies were out? maybe it was the hormones, but you were done.

“oof.” you had ran into a thick wall. scratch that, the wall was moving. your vision was blurred by tears you refused to shed that you didn’t even realize it was your closest friend ghost. “dove?” you hiccuped. why did he always have to be so nice to you? gruff and mean-sounding to everyone else, but an avid listener and sweet talker when it came to you. “jus’ trying to get to my room, didn’t see you. sorry l.t..” you tried to maneuver around him, but unfortunately a 6’4 machine of a man did not move easily.

“why you cryin’, baby?” shit, simon did not mean to call you that. he did not want to have this conversation right now, especially when you looked like you were about to break down. you were always so strong, having to work ten times harder as a woman in the military, and he was always careful to not undermine you or your struggles. unfortunately, that landed him firmly in the friendzone for the past year, unable to confess his feelings without breaking your trust. he maneuvered you to the closest room, which happened to be his. he sat down on the bed, intending to sit you down next to him, but instead you still stood, walking in between his parted legs.

“‘m sorry, just on my period and everything hurts and it’s all hitting at once.” your eyes were red, avoiding his. he could see you were in pain, and as someone who had endured enemy torture and the hardest forms of training, his heart never hurt as much as it did now. he reached a gloved hand towards your face, brushing away your tears. his other hand came to your lower belly, rubbing circles over your clothes. “shhh, ‘s okay. you wanna sit down?” you shook your head in disagreement. you felt like a child, but you were never allowed to be weak outside of your own room. for some reason today, you let simon riley see you weak.

you walked around his body and laid on top of his covers, curling into a fetal position. he let you get comfy, finding a way to lay down that lessened your cramps. finally, you were done moving. “si?” you never called him that unless you absolutely needed him. he got up and locked the door, not wanting to disturb your peace. “yeah, baby?” might as well use it now, you hadn’t complained. if anything your face softened when he said it, and simon riley would die a thousand deaths just to see a moment of relief on your face. “will you lay with me?”

he eagerly stripped out of his gear, climbing on top of his bed to lay down with you. he placed a hand on your arm, letting you choose where you wanted him. you dragged his hand under your sweatshirt, using it like a heating pad for your cramps. you let out a soft moan of pleasure and he answered it with a low growl, pulling you into him by the stomach. his thumb caressed your bare skin with small circles, memorizing every dip and valley. he strived to commit the moment to memory, not knowing if you’d ever be this vulnerable again. “feel better, dove?” you nodded, finally succumbing to sleep that had evaded you the past night. he smiled under his mask, placing a small kiss to the back of your head.

finally you were at peace, and all because of him.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod 141 #fluff #ghost call of duty #tornadothoughts #best friends to lovers #period cramps #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price

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notthestarwar · 11 months

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@dukeoftheblackstar and heres another snippet from the same fic which i think gives a kinda sympathetic view to mace. i've taken this straight from my drafts so i'll leave the old tags there. now i'm gonna reblog some pro mace posts lol but i wont tag you in those cause i think i've probably tagged you in enough at this point lol

This snippet is from 'When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it'

It's from Chapter 7, ghost Mace is explaining to past Jaster what he knows of Jango's life, in the future. Here, he's describing the moment he killed Jango and his feelings in the aftermath.

In the midst of the battle, a man started shooting at me. We fought, it was a brutal thing, I was barely keeping up in spite of the Force. I did not know who he was or why he was shooting for me but I did know that if I ceded any space at all, he would take it and I would be dead.

In the end, I came out on top. I can't say I was intending for it, I was just trying to make contact in any place I could, but I caught him with my saber between his helmet and chest plate. He died, after I decapitated him and it wasn't until after the fact that I discovered that he was the one I had been searching for all those years before.

As a young Knight I set out to bring Jango Fett home, to right a wrong, but I was unable to find him. I had thought of him, often. The wrong I had not been able to right for my people. The man I could not save. And then, I stepped on to a dusty planet that I hardly knew, for reasons I hardly understood and I killed a man.

Jaster swallows. When Mace looks at him, honestly paints his face and regret curls at the edges.

"Quite without knowing it, I had killed the one I hadn't been able to save, years after the fact."

His son.

"I hadn't saved him but he survived all the same. He didn't need me to save him, he'd saved himself. I'd thought him dead but he lived to walk up to me all those years later. He survived that slave ship so that he might die at my hand years later."

The fact that he's sorry for it doesn't really cushion the blow. This is the man that killed his son. He is dead because of Jango but in a far off future, Jango is dead because of him.

How did he die? This Jedi? He had time to discover Jango's identity after the battle so he must have survived it. Did he later die of wounds Jango gave him? Jaster thinks not. None of this has been easy, none of this is simple. There remains a weight in the air, the burden of the remainder of Jango's story. An oddity considering it should end here.

He looks back to Windu, watching his face.

"I did not mean to kill your son Jaster. I meant to save him, but I was quite unable. The idea of him haunted me as steadily as any ghost and then, I killed him. I didn't know who he was when I struck and I did not know when he fell that he had already killed me, long before that day. It would be three years before my heart would stop but I was dead from the day Jango Fett landed on Kamino."

"I did not intend it, but I did it all the same. I am sorry that I killed him and I have to live with that regret even now, in death. I remain here knowing that I killed the man I was intending to save, the man who I had never forgotten failing."

Jaster is a warrior. He knows what a fight to the death is like. He has known the ferocity that an adult Jango would hold long before he knew that in a later time, the galaxy would know his son as 'The Jedi killer'. What a title. Jaster had not wanted this life, the one that from Mace's perspective has already passed, for his son. He wanted something kinder, easier, for him. It hadn't happened. Jaster had been unable to give that to him.

Mace didn't have any choice but to kill him but, all the same, as a father it is Jaster's right to hate him, just a little, for taking his sons life.

Jango deserved better than the galaxy that had delivered him to this Jedi on that day. He deserved better than the life that had shaped him in to the man that would attack this Jedi and lose. He deserved, parents that wouldn't die before he had finished growing, a second chance that worked out differently. He deserved everything and anything Jaster could give him and maybe, even that could not be enough. Could never be enough.

Mace looked at him. "Everyone in that hall is there because Jango is responsible for their death. I am not sure if the same can be said for me. Jango is responsible for my death but is that the reason I linger?"

The Jedi looks far away. "He haunted me far before he ever died and now I haunt him far before he ever killed me. He lined up the pieces of my death long before I met him in that arena. And I killed him long before he killed me. Time is not linear for the dead, but in the case of Jango and I it is even less so. The story of our haunting is a circular thing and in truth, I can not really say who of us is haunting who

He meets Jaster's eyes. "We are here to discuss why we haunt Jango. But it would be remiss of me to not tell you that your son has haunted me every single day since I left on a mission to retrieve him, to try and offer reparations for what my peoples neglect brought down on him, and came home empty handed."

"We thought him dead, but I did not forget him. From that day, I've carried the weight of what we did to him. I have often thought of him over the years. You hold no blame here, but we just might."

I love this bit. To me it's very clear that Jango's death was largely Jango's fault. In this fic, Mace finds himself on Galidraan with little understanding of why he's there, just trying to act in the moment to defend himself and other Jedi. Jango starts shooting at him, clearly shooting to kill. Mace knows that he's in danger, he knows that if he dies (because Jango intends for one of them to die. He will not stop until one of them is dead.) Jango will go on to kill more Jedi until one of them gets the upper hand, and so Mace acts in a way that is very understandable and defends his life with all he has. He's reacting rather than planning any of this, Jango is not giving him a chance to think about any of it, so when Jango is about to get the upper hand, Mace takes the only move available to him, and goes for his neck.

It's understandable, he had no choice, and yet, because of who Mace is, I think he'd find it very difficult to come to terms with having killed someone in that way. It's horribly violent (lightsaber deaths always seem to be??? Decapitation isn't quite bisection but it's not great. However, I think such a thing would be even harder for Mace to confront than it was for Obi Wan.) and I think Mace would struggle to accept that he really didn't have any choice, and anyone would have done the same.

And then!!! This Mace, is a Mace that has been metaphorically haunted by Jango ever since he 'failed to save him'. To know that Jango was out there to find all along and Mace just didn't manage it? That Jango didn't need Mace to escape, but that he suffered for longer thanks to his own rescue being left to him. That in that suffering, he became the kind of man, that would be in the arena, forcing Mace to kill him. That had Mace done anything about this constant reminder (was that a sign? From the force?) of Jango for all these years, he could have helped Jango. He might have stopped him doing what he did with the clones. He might have helped him process what had happened, so that Jango didn't end up on a suicide mission, determined to throw himself head first in to fights he can barely win, only so he can try and repent for not dying with the rest of them, the first time or the second.

Mace was a master Jedi, if anyone could help someone work through trauma, it was him. (His struggle to process it all himself is 100% not a sign of his ability. You can understand how to healthily process emotions to the n th degree, but it won't stop you being human and falling to human difficulties. He is the best person to help anyone else through this stuff, but when it comes to himself, he's too close. That's why Jedi help each other work through stuff.) But Mace wasn't there, because he didn't think Jango was out there. In spite of this constant lingering reminder at every step, he didn't look. And so Jango carried on, hating that he survived, living only to carry out this corrupted form of justice, until he finally met the end that he thought he should have met years before.

Mace couldn't help him, and then, he ended up doing the worst thing possible for him. He gave him this violent death, that in Jango's grief and pain, he was sure he deserved. I just think the more Mace learnt about Jango, after finding out he's just killed the man he thought had died thanks to his failure all those years before, going on to see the depths of what happened to Jango, what it made him, the more responsible he'd feel. If he'd only found him. What he went through on the ship. What the clones went through. All those years hating himself for surviving. Boba, who Jango wanted in spite of his self hated, who he loved so fiercely but could NOT do right by.

I think Mace would look at each part of it and a part of him would be like 'none of this had to happen. If you'd done your job, you could have saved him from that ship, from becoming this. You would have spared him from himself, but also the clones, Boba, everyone else he hurt.' I do think he would have known that this wasn't rational, and would have worked through it, been working through it, as he lived on and more and more things crept out of the woodwork to remind Mace of his one failure. Each revelation about jango is something else Mace might have prevented.

And then, Mace's death at palpatines hand. He speaks to the other ghosts and suddenly he sees. He sees the big picture. What Jango did to him, did to his people.

Mace has it completely right when he looks at this haunting as a circular thing. Who is haunting who? Time isn't linear for ghosts. He was haunting Jango from the start, but also, Mace didn't start haunting Jango till he'd already killed him. Mace not being able to forget that mission early in his career, the boy he hadn't been able to save. Was that bog standard guilt? His brain kicking up dust? Or was it the force warning him that Jango was out there, that he should look. Was it neither? As a force sensitive could Mace feel his future self, pulled back in time by his connection to Jango? Was the feeling of Jango haunting him, actually his own ghost, obsessed with the man he was tied to, the one responsible for his death.

He and Jango orbit each other before either of them are dead in a way the other ghosts don't. But it being uncertain who's haunting who? That's true of all the ghosts. Jango haunts them just as much they do him. They are ghosts because they can't let go of him and he can't let go of what he did to them.

#I've been thinking about this #cause i saw a post talking about who's fault Jango's death was (i think it was a poll?)#anyway i have very strong feelings about this. because i very much do think that Jango was never surviving to see the war #he'd done his bit dooku didn't need him. i don't think dooku set up his death at Mace's hand. but i do think that he knew the man Jango was #and knew that by placing him in that arena; he'd get himself killed. arena full of Jedi. Jango always would have tried to fight them and #it would always be a fight to the death. because of who he was. his pride & he didn't care about surviving enough to walk away from a fight #he was too intelligent to not know he wasn't getting out alive. tangle with nasty ppl you wind up dead when they don't need you.#& he knew bad ppl well. but he never tried to get away. i think that was cause a part of him wanted to die. he walked in to that death #i do think he loved Boba. but i think he hated himself hated that he'd survived everyone. more. think he'd convince himself boba was better #with him dead. so i don't think mace had any hand in Jango's death really. if not him it would have been someone else. Jango would have #created that situation with anyone. HOWEVER #i don't think Mace would see it that way. i think he'd struggle to accept that he did the only thing he could and i think the understanding #that it was him or Jango BECAUSE Jango was determined to die & take out as many Jedi on the way out as possible. would make it harder for #him to accept. he completely played in to this suicidal impulse. Jango was a sentient in pain who needed help. mace wants to be someone who #helps.but instead he let himself be played.he was the sword and the hand that held it and he killed him in a particularly violent move #(which i think was unavoidable in the moment. if he'd delayed he would have died he was acting not thinking. Jango made it so.)#it was not Maces fault but i think he'd struggle to accept that even when knowing it objectively.if it were another Jedi he'd help them see #but for himself it's hard to come to terms with. knowing that dying in such a violent manner was what Jango thought he deserved #i think would make mace feel like he'd been the worst version of himself in that moment and someone he could have helped payed for that #it was fun to explore in this fic cause mace had been sent out to find Jango after galidraan and it had stuck with him as a failed mission #early in his career. in the time since he's done all these amazing things but he always remembered boy he couldn't save at the start #and then. years later. mace ends up inadvertently killing that same man. he doesn't know who Jango is.he has no idea that he survived until #he's already dead at Mace's hand. i think theres a horrible sense of neatness to it all.#so yeah! i don't think mace is guilty but i think he's the kind of person that would feel he was all the same #Mace is great #part 3

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tender-rosiey · 6 months

Note

hiii 😭 I REALLY LOVE UR GOJO X YN SO MUCHHH 😔😔 I was also wondering like maybe what if y/n has a wound, like any where 🥲 it could be either on her back, arms, legs but she doesn't wanna tell gojo abt it and she hides it, then he will find out about it either she winces when gojo hugs her, starts wearing long sleeved clothes or her shirt lifts up while sleeping 🤧 TYSMM❤❤

strain — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I am honored that you like my works, love! hope you enjoy this as well 🫶💕🫶 also happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend: gojo satoru!! (it’s still his birthday in my country so hush I am not late)

you are more than a capable sorcerer. in fact, you are one of the strongest in the field.

however, like anyone else, there are some moments where things get a little out of hand, and you come back bearing a rather long slash on your left arm.

but since it’s pretty late, you decided you will bother shoko about it in the morning. that is how you’re finally in your home, with satoru nowhere to be found.

you frown lightly at the fact that he is still out there fighting curses, but a part of you feels relieved that you don’t have to explain your situation right now.

the night should pass by smoothly, and you will go to shoko tomorrow: a fool-proof plan!

so you do what you can to sanitize the wound, and cover it until you can get it treated properly. you also take the chance to indulge in your favorite snack as a good job treat.

after finishing your food and tidying up for the day, you’re finally in bed, all-cozied up and avoiding anything touching your wound as much as possible.

a deep breathe in, a deep breathe out, and you slowly drift to sleep.

not much time passes before satoru’s familiar footsteps echo throughout the house.

your husband has an abundance of energy.

but it seemed like today’s missions have drained him a bit more than normal, so he skips eating anything and heads straight to your shared bedroom.

his heart softens, and his muscles relax upon the sight of you tucked in bed. he walks to press a small kiss on your forehead, quickly changing into his pajamas and settling right by your side.

he stretches a bit and turns to spoon you as per usual, eyes closing in contentment.

but you wince, even if adeptly, and it sends alarms ringing through his head.

he jerks up, and his hand is instantly placed on your arm again, softly. there is an ever so faint change in your expression as your eyebrows furrow, and he has never pulled his hand away so fast.

he keeps debating in his head whether to wake you up or not, but he swiftly settles for the former.

he needs to know what happened. so he, regrettably, nudges your sleepy form, “y/n?”

you groan, but, nonetheless, you reply, “…what?”

while satoru often likes to base theatrics around his every move and phrase, but he also knows when to get straight to the point, “did you get hurt on today’s mission?”

you’re no longer half-asleep, and you quickly sit up, eyeing your husband. knowing there is no escape nor denial, you fidget with your fingers and nod slowly.

then you hurriedly utter, “but I was going to see shoko first thing in the morning; I promise!”

he nods slowly, holding your hands in his own. you’re left to look him in the eyes. satoru’s eyes being exposed makes him feel so vulnerable, or at least that’s how he is with you.

you can see every wrinkle, and every crease; you can see what he is thinking about in real time. he has long given up hiding anything from you, and, besides, it feels fresh to just let go.

but right now, as you look into his eyes, you see them swarming with confliction, pain, and worry.

he doesn’t scold you about not going right now because he knows that you will tell him that you either thought it wasn’t a big deal or that you didn’t want to bother shoko with it.

instead, he settles on a hushed whisper of “can I see it?”

you throw him a confused look, “why? I am getting it treated tomorrow anyway,” then you smile, “it’s not going to permanent if that’s what you’re worried about.”

he shakes his head, “it’s not that; I just—“ he takes a deep breath then looks at you pleadingly, “just let me see it.”

perhaps it’s to silence his thoughts and to show him that you’re truly okay, as okay as you can be.

you’re still alive, and that’s what matters, he thinks. nevertheless, he feels the need to see just how serious is the wound anyway.

reluctantly, you slowly take off your jacket to reveal the poorly bandaged gash on your arm.

he looks up at you, asking for permission because even if he needs to see it for his own selfish reasons, he has to put you above anything and everything else.

you nod, giving the free reign to slowly take off the bandages. you can barely hold back any pained noises, but you can’t help the wincing of your body.

satoru’s frown deepens, and with every move, your husband’s heart aches. it goes like that until the wound is finally unveiled.

you feel satoru observing the cut so intently that you look away. satoru curses everything that he can think of, and never has we wanted the ability to heal others more than right now.

he straightens his back, “that’s a deep cut, y’know.”

“I know…”

“you also realize that the wound could’ve hit your chest and inevitably heart, right?”

you huff, “listen, if you’re going to give me a lecture or keep making me feel bad about it then I will have you know—“

“you could’ve died.”

you notice the strain in his voice, so you turn to finally look eyes with him. he looks pained, so hurt, maybe even terrified at the fact that there was a chance that he could’ve lost you.

your expression immediately becomes that of sympathy, “but I didn’t, and dwelling on the fact that I might’ve died will only bother you for no reason,” you hold his hand, “I am here and alive, aren’t I?”

your husband sighs, resting his head on your right shoulder, “you’re hurting my poor little heart whenever you put yourself in danger like that.”

a giggle escapes your lips, and your hands naturally find their way in his hair, fingers gently carding through, “whatever shall we do.”

“if things went my way then you would just stay home looking all pretty like you always do,” he states, and you roll your eyes.

“well, they’re going my way tonight, so—“ the clock strikes twelve, “happy birthday, silly boy.”

his eyes widen and he pulls away to look you in the face. he blinks dumbly then looks at what’s in your hands: a cupcake with a candle.

a wide grin of unbridled joy appears on your husband’s face. his eyes shimmer in the moonlight as he laughs, “I really didn’t expect it this time!”

“you outdid yourself, pretty girl,” he hums, hand caressing your cheek.

“I still have a lot more things for you,” you beam with pride. satoru can’t contain himself anymore, and he pulls you into a loving embrace.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.

you pat his back, “I love you too, ‘toru,” you laugh, “but you’re pressing on my wound, and I think I am just going to cry and not because of overwhelming love.”

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sluttywonwoo · 28 days

Text

fuck the neighbors

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f reader

summary: curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back- at least, that's what they say.

warnings: swearing, blood, asshole!wonwoo, mingyu is canonically a whore, light blasphemy, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: hard dom!wonwoo, allusions to voyeurism, degradation, oral (f receiving), blood play?!?!? (just a little bit!!!), wap!reader, massive cock!wonwoo, choking, protected sex

word count: 3.3k

reader notes: reader is significantly shorter than ww + described to have long-ish hair

You’ve never felt as small as you do right now. Wonwoo looms over you, smirking. He isn’t even that much taller than you, you just seem to shrink into yourself when you’re around him, which seems to be happening more and more often lately.

“Found you,” he whispers.

“I... wasn’t hiding,” you say, your voice coming out in a squeak.

“You know it isn’t nice to lie,” he chides, taking a step closer to you. You take a step backward in kind, only to be met with the cool concrete wall against your back. “It also isn’t nice to eavesdrop.”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to,” you insist.

Wonwoo tsks. “I don’t believe you. What did I just say about lying?”

“Well, it isn’t nice to be super loud all the time either!” you scoff. “You have neighbors, you know.”

The overhead light flickers. You and Wonwoo both stare at it, the inconsistent hum of electricity filling the silence before the light eventually decides to stay lit. You breathe a sigh of relief. You really needed to stop overlooking sketchy apartments for the sake of the rent, especially if you were going to have to deal with people like... him.

Wonwoo cocks his head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean what am I talking about? Listen, I don’t care who you fuck but if you could be just a little quieter-”

Wonwoo cuts you off with a laugh. “That’s what this is about? That’s why you were snooping outside my apartment? What, were you hoping to catch a glimpse of her leaving or something?”

So you had been right... you’re not sure whether or not you’re happy about that. What you are sure of, though, is that you’re offended that you’re being accused of snooping. You open your mouth to defend yourself but stop short.

“You’re bleeding,” is what you say instead.

Wonwoo touches his lip, thumb brushing across the cut he must not have noticed until you mentioned it. He looks down at his fingers briefly then back up at you.

“Come with me.”

“Wha- huh?”

“You want to know what’s so loud, right? So come on.”

You follow him blindly back down the hall to his apartment, the one right next to yours. You’re doing everything a final girl in a horror movie shouldn’t do, but you’re dying to know what’s been keeping you up at night.

Wonwoo unlocks the door and stands aside to let you in first. With a gulp, you cross the threshold and slip off your shoes. He does the same.

The apartment is quiet, for once. It looks a lot like yours but mirrored. The kitchen is off to the right instead of the left. The half bathroom is on the wall opposite to yours, likely connected via plumbing.

The place is a lot cleaner than you expected too. It’s sparse, typical for a single guy, but still relatively well decorated.

Wonwoo heads straight to the kitchen and turns on the sink. He wets a paper towel and dabs at his bottom lip, wincing as he cleans the wound.

“Why am I here?” you ask when he doesn’t offer an explanation.

He doesn’t answer right away. Granted, the man was still bleeding but he’d dragged you here for a reason and now you were just standing in his kitchen.

Eventually, he disposes of the paper towel, washes his hands, and walks across the living room without saying a word. You know he expects you to follow him but you almost don’t want to. You do follow him, you want to leave as fast as possible, but you consider it.

He opens the door to what you know is a bedroom and points inside. You stare at him blankly.

“What am I looking at?”

“This isn’t my room,” he says.

“What?”

“It’s my roommate’s.”

“You have a roommate?”

“I do. I have a roommate. He’s the one you share a wall with. He’s the one banging a different girl every night. Your issues are with him, not me.”

Now that you were thinking about it, you have seen a slightly taller, beefier man around the building. That must be who Wonwoo’s roommate is. He definitely had the face to pull all the girls Wonwoo was referring to. Not that Wonwoo didn’t-

“So take it up with him.”

You shake your head and purse your lips. “No, that doesn’t explain everything. I’ve heard your voice too. Unless you’re the one he’s banging...” you trail off, letting the implication hang in the air.

“He’s not my type,” Wonwoo says flatly.

“Okay, then what is it?”

“C’mere,” he says, moving along the wall to what you use as a breakfast nook in your apartment.

In his, the space is empty save for a punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

“You box?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Is that why you were bleeding?”

“Yeah, I just got back from the gym.”

“And that’s what I’ve been hearing?”

“That’s what you’ve been hearing.”

You nod but don’t say anything else, half waiting for an apology that he doesn’t offer. He just leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Well, do you think you could practice your hobby before midnight? Or at least try to keep it down when you do?” you huff in annoyance.

He sighs like what you’re asking is the biggest inconvenience he’s ever been posed with but concedes.

“I guess.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll have to talk to Mingyu about his... hobby, though. Or get noise canceling headphones. That’s what I did.”

“Oh, okay.”

Silence stretches between you again, heightening the tension in the room. You don’t know what to do. Were you supposed to show yourself out now that you had your answers? Wonwoo isn’t giving you any indication that he wants you to leave but he isn't giving any indication that he wants you to stay either.

You don’t have the time or energy to deal with this. You can’t read the man’s mind. No matter how hard he stares at you from across a room. With a definitive breath, you turn on your heel to head for the door just to be stopped by Wonwoo’s voice echoing behind you.

“Are you disappointed?”

You stop but don’t turn around. “What?”

“Are you disappointed that it isn’t me you’ve been hearing?” he clarifies.

Heat rises to your cheeks. “Wh-what do you mean? Why would I be?”

You feel him approach from behind, his shadow closing in on you before he does.

“Because it isn’t my voice you’ve been touching yourself to.”

“What?!” You do turn around this time, whipping around so fast your ponytail almost whacks Wonwoo in the face.

“You don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me when I pass you in the hallway?”

You scoff, breathing a subtle sigh of relief. All he had to go off of was a look but if he had heard you through the wall, if he had that irrefutable evidence, it would definitely be over for you. “If that’s what you think lust looks like, I feel bad for all the girls you have slept with.”

“Resentment and lust have a very long history together,” he whispers.

“You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

You feign ignorance. “About what?”

“About you.” He measures you up with his gaze, something triumphant flashing behind his eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he presses. “Tell me you’ve never gotten off to the thought of me and I’ll drop it.”

You weigh your options. You could lie. You could save yourself the embarrassment and lie right to his face, although given your track record thus far he’d see right through it. Or, you could tell him the truth. You could admit to wishing you were the one in what you thought had been his bed all this time.

You settle on silence and let him draw his own conclusion. A smirk tugs at one side of Wonwoo’s mouth. So he did think highly of himself.

“I fucking knew it,” he murmurs.

Before you can deny it, he straightens back up and starts walking toward the back of the apartment.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announces.

You don’t move from where you’re standing, unsure of what he wants you to do. Was he hinting at you to leave? Was it an invitation?

Wonwoo looks back over his shoulder at you. “Are you coming?”

“Hopefully,” you mutter.

“Hm?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

The water is already running by the time you slip into the bathroom after Wonwoo. You watch quietly as he undresses, letting the door click shut gently behind you. It occurs to you that you should be taking your clothes off too but you can’t look away.

Wonwoo’s kind enough to snap you out of it. “I didn’t ask you in here just to watch me.”

“You didn’t ask me in here at all,” you point out, “you just expected me to follow you.”

“And you did.”

Damn, he had you there.

With a noise of indignation, you pop the button on your jeans and start to wiggle out of them, unable to bring yourself to look at him again now that you’re also exposed. You can feel his eyes on you, though. It has the same effect his presence always has on you, and you attempt to cover yourself with your hands.

“Shy?” he muses. “Cute.”

“Shut up,” you sputter.

You don’t think you’ve felt this self conscious since college and then he laughs at your response which does nothing to help.

“I can’t call you cute?”

“Not if you’re patronizing me.”

“How do you want me to say it, then?” he asks, sinking down to his knees on the floor in front of you. You stare at him in disbelief. “You want me to say it like this? Want me to tell you how cute, how pretty, I think you are, from down here? How pretty I think this pussy is?” Wonwoo leans forward as he talks, further and further until his hair is tickling your tummy and his lips are moving against your skin. “Spread your legs for me, baby,” he murmurs.

You do, taking hold of the countertop so that you won’t fall as Wonwoo slots himself between your thighs. You take a deep breath to brace yourself for the feeling of his mouth but absolutely nothing could have prepared you for the way he presses a gentle kiss to your pussy before diving in. The softness of the action compared to everything that led up to this moment, compared to the way he was now drowning himself in you, is enough to make your knees threaten to give. Your grip on the counter tightens and you bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, though you’re sure he already knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

Wonwoo hitches one of your knees over his shoulder so that he can get even deeper inside of you with his tongue. He drinks you in, breathes you in, douses himself in you like he’s trying to baptize himself in order to atone for his sins.

If this was his apology for all the noise, he’s forgiven ten times over.

You can feel callouses on the palms of his hands as he traces them up your legs and over your ass, pulling you even further into him. The force of his grip causes you to stumble but he catches you before you can fall and helps you to regain your balance.

“I’ve got you,” he assures you, backing you up into the sink. “Here, hop up on the counter.”

“What about the shower?” you ask, suddenly remembering that the water had been running this whole time.

“Oh shit-”

Wonwoo turns around and reaches to turn it off, drying both his hand and his face with a towel that had been hanging on the wall.

“Now, hop up on the counter.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, glancing at all of the skin and hair care products scattered across it.

Wonwoo pushes them out of the way then nods.

“I’m sure. Mingyu won’t care, trust me. He’d be a hypocrite to.”

You sigh but hoist yourself onto the counter anyway, too horny to worry about it any longer. Wonwoo steps in between your legs and lets you wrap them around his waist. He leans down, you think he’s going to kiss you, but he goes for your neck and kisses you there instead.

“Why are you pouting?” he asks, voice muffled and vibrating against your throat.

“Want you to fuck me,” you lie.

It’s not a complete lie, you do want him to fuck you, but it certainly isn’t the full truth either. You’re afraid that if you’re honest with Wonwoo about wanting him to kiss you it’ll turn him off. He’s not about to make love to you, that much is clear, so was kissing off the table? Was that too intimate for a hookup like this? Would he think you wanted something more if you asked?

“I was getting to that,” he insists lowly. “So impatient.”

“You’re the one who ate me out as soon as you got me alone. You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

There. Maybe if you challenged him he’d give you what you wanted.

“Oh, you want me to kiss you, huh?”

He wraps a hand around your neck and pulls you in, finally pressing his lips to yours. Men were so easy.

He tastes like you imbued with unfamiliarity. Blood, you realize when you pull back and see the cut on his lip had reopened. It isn’t much, just enough to make him look vaguely vampiric. You swipe your thumb across his bottom lip and push it into his mouth for him to suck on.

He does, but he has the audacity to pretend not to like it.

“You’re sick,” Wonwoo scoffs.

“And you’re still hard.”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

He kisses you again before you can get another word in, dropping his free hand between your legs to ensure you're truly unable to talk back.

He uses his fingers to tease you for a moment or two and then he teases you with the head of his cock, pressing it right up against you and making you whimper into his mouth.

“Tell me, what have you been thinking about all these months,” he murmurs, “when you’re in your bed all alone listening through the wall?”

“I- it’s embarrassing...” you protest.

Wonwoo draws back, tonguing his cheek as he gazes down at you. “Tell me or we’re done here.”

You’re not sure whether or not he’ll make good on his threat but you don’t want to call his bluff and risk blowing your chance to actually live out the fantasies you were too embarrassed to share.

“I thought about... this,” you say hesitantly.

“This? You thought about me fucking you here?”

“No...”

“You’re going to have to be more specific then, angel.”

“It was, um, in your bed.”

“You mean Mingyu’s bed.”

“I didn’t know that at the time,” you whine.

He smiles. “I know. You know, if you had just paid a little closer attention you would have realized he sounds nothing like me.”

“I was a little distracted at the time,” you whisper.

“Yeah? Distracted pretending it was you in those girls’ positions?”

You nod reluctantly.

“Poor baby,” he pouts, “must’ve been so jealous but so wet you just had to touch yourself, huh?”

You hate that he’s right. You hate that the condescension turns you on even more.

While he’s talking, Wonwoo snakes an arm behind you and grabs a condom from a jar on the counter. Did he and Mingyu just keep them out for guests like they were cotton swabs or something? Did they get laid that often?

He tears the foil packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom on as you watch and unconsciously spread your legs even wider for him.

“Ready?” he asks, holding your face with both hands.

It’s probably the first earnest interaction you’ve had with him. His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation and even when he finds none, he waits for you to answer.

“Go ahead.”

You keep your eyes trained on his face as he guides himself inside of you, watching the way his eyelashes flutter and his breath hitches when he feels the heat of you around him. He pushes himself in slowly but the stretch still knocks the wind out of you, leaving you gasping for air.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. You’re okay.”

You can hardly hear him over the roaring in your ears but you do your best to listen, chest heaving as you desperately try to anchor yourself to him.

Wonwoo doesn’t move until you urge him to by wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing his hips with your thighs. It isn’t easy at first, despite how wet you are for him. He’s that huge.

You almost wish he wasn’t just because you don’t think it’s fair for any man’s ego to be warranted, especially one as big as his. Though you suppose it’s fitting.

After a few rough strokes, he starts to play with your clit again to get you to relax a little. It works, your eyes roll and your head falls back against the mirror as the tension eases from your muscles.

“Does it feel as good as you thought it would?” he presses.

“B-better,” you admit.

“That’s because it wasn’t me you were hearing.”

You groan, annoyed that he still hasn’t let it go. You doubt he ever will.

“It’s okay. I’ve thought about this too,” he confesses.

“You have?”

“Have you seen yourself?” he scoffs, “Don’t sound so surprised. I’d s-see you in the hallways, see the way you’d glare at me- fuck... who knew all this time you were right next door fantasizing about me while I fantasized about you. We could’ve been doing this so much sooner.”

You want to tell him that you have all the time in the world to make up for it now but you can’t find the words. They’ve dissolved on your tongue and left you with only his name to repeat over and over like you’re in a trance.

“Louder,” he pleads as fucks you even faster.

“But our neighbors-”

“Fuck them,” he spits. “They already hate us because of Mingyu, let them know my name too.”

Apparently you aren’t the only jealous one between the two of you. You want to laugh but you physically can’t, too caught up in the incandescent feeling in your stomach that threatens to engulf you entirely.

“Fuck, are you about to cum?” Wonwoo gasps, lips parting in concentration.

You nod. “Just a little more,” you beg, “yeah, exactly like that... oh fuck-”

“I’ve got you,” he assures you. “Let go, I’m right there with you.”

It’s surprisingly sweet of him and you think he might realize it too because he grabs your jaw and pulls you in to kiss you as you fall apart together so that he can’t say anything else.

Once you come down, he’s the first to start putting you both back together.

“Wanna actually take a shower now?” he asks, holding out a hand to help you down from the counter.

Your knees wobble on your landing but Wonwoo’s quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders wounded-soldier style and sit you on the closed lid of the toilet.

“Take your time,” he tells you, kneeling on the tile in front of you.

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to stay the night? I mean you can hardly walk. There’s no way you’ll make it all the way home.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “All the way next door?”

“Exactly! It’s better not to risk it, right?”

You chuckle. “I guess.”

Wonwoo grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you home myself in the morning. I’m a gentleman, after all. And then we can piss off your neighbors.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#fuck the neighbors #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen x female reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x female reader #jeon wonwoo smut #svt x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #flashing tw

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call-memissbrightside · 12 days

Text

“Papa, you love mama?”

Katsuki Bakugo continued walking beside his son, but the hitch in his breath was a sign that he heard the question.

Katsuma looked up to the older man, little hand held by his father’s more calloused one. The little boy was a carbon copy of Katsuki, but that also meant he was smart— and just like Kats did as a kid— Katsuma wasn’t shy to ask adults hard questions.

The six year old knew he had a mom that loved him, and that was enough for him. She cared for him, made him breakfast and dinners, and let him jump on the bed for a bit as long as he promised he’d burn out all his energy and go to bed on time. Katsuma knew not having a dad was odd— his classmates always asked why he never drew a daddy when he drew his family.

Yet, you made it your life’s mission to make sure Katsuma never felt unloved because you chose to be a single parent— you were his mama and his papa, and Katsuma loved that.

Yet, now Katsuma had a father, and his little brain worked overtime trying to understand if now it meant he had a full-family, finally. He had a mom, and a dad, and they loved him. Yet, did that mean they loved each other? It was all confusing for the boy and he needed answers.

“I love your mom.” Katsuki’s ears burned from the simple confession but his son wasn’t done asking questions.

“Why didn’t you know about me until I was five?” Katsuma’s brows furrowed.

The older blonde sighed, before stopping. Katsuma looked even more confused as Katsuki kneeled down to meet his red eyes.

“Look bud, your mama and I—,” Katsuki scrambled to find the right words. Katsuma started to chew on his thumb, a habit Katsuki picked up on when his little boy was nervous. Carefully pulling his hand away from his mouth, Katsuki held his son’s hand instead.

“We love you so, so much,” Katsuki squeezed his hand. “Sometimes adults can make mistakes, and I’ll always wish I was a papa to you when you were little but never be angry at your mama for that, okay?”

Katsuma nodded dramatically, the thought absurd to the six year old.

“I will always love your mom— “ Katsuma started jumping in excitement.

“Mama and papa are gonna be together forever? Like married?”

Katsuki took hold of his son’s shoulders, stopping Katsuma’s excited hops.

“Not exactly buddy.” It hurt the older man to see the utter disappointment on his son’s face.

“We… uh—,” Katsuki didn’t even know what was happening between you two. Hooking up on and off and coparenting blurred the lines of labels.

“But you two love each other, and you guys love me, right papa?” Katsuma asked.

Katsuki smiled, ruffling his son’s unruly blonde hair.

“That’s right buddy, and that’s enough for me.”

Katsuma might’ve looked like his father, but he had your smile— the same expression Katsuki loved on you growing on the little boys face.

“That’s enough for me too papa!”

#bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #dad!katsuki #dad!bakugou

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dyaz-stories · 21 days

Text

JUJUTSU BOYS + PDA

how the jjk boys are when you're in public with them

including: gojo, nanami, choso, yuuji, megumi, maki

word count: 3.6k (500-600 words for one character)

cw: intended as canon compliant, established relationships, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, public demonstrations of affection, can't think of anything else tbh

a/n: been reading some fics in this format so wanted to try my hand at it again. it's been years since I wrote short pieces like that, so I hope you'll enjoy them!

GOJO

Gojo has no concept of personal space, and that is something you had to get used to since you started dating — if anything, since before you started dating. Even when the two of you were at a more flirtatious stage, he’d always be leaning towards you to talk to you, face inches away from yours, hands on your hips if he needed to move past you, arm casually around you if you were sitting next to each other. It was all the better if it flustered you.

None of this has changed, except that he’s much more extra about it now. Holding your hand while walking? Nah, that’s boring. He’ll have his arm around your shoulders, even if it’s not convenient given the height difference. He’ll also try to put his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, pout if you tell him not to do it. If you’re waiting in line with him, he has both of his arms around you, is resting his chin on top of your head, and wants nothing more than for you to lean back into his chest, relaxing into his embrace. You can both be doing totally unrelated things — you’re reading and he’s checking his phone — but you’re slotted against each other, and that’s how it is ideally for you.

You’re waiting for him to show up to your date when you feel yourself surrounded by familiar arms, and then his cheek is pressing against yours as he surveys the book you’re holding in your hands.

“Whatch’ya reading?” he asks, breath warm against your cheek.

“Just doing some research on emerging curses,” you say with a shrug as you close it and put it in your bag. “So, did you want to check out that new bakery?”

He hums in reply, and you wait for him to move so you can start walking.

He doesn’t.

“…do you plan on letting go of me?” you ask after a while, turning your head to look at him.

He pouts at you, inches away from your face.

“I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet…”

“We’re in public, Satoru,” you say, feeling your face heating up.

“So? Let ‘em stare. They might as well, if you ask me.”

You want to roll your eyes — one day, you’ll have to talk about that exhibitionist streak of his — but in the meantime, you just have to crane your neck a little to peck his lips. They’re soft, as always, and he follows greedily when you pull away, his hand coming up to tilt your chin up gently as he presses more kisses on the corner of your lips, then on your cheek.

“You’re impossible,” you say, badly hiding your laughter. “Let’s go, or we won’t make it to closing time. You’re late, by the way.”

He lets out a heartbroken sigh, but finally frees you, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you start walking towards the bakery. He keeps his strides short, so you don’t have to run to keep up with him, instead allowing you to keep a comfortable pace.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m just too good at my job, they can never get enough of me.”

“Aw, poor darling,” you say. You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and bring it to your lips to press a kiss on the back.

He lets out a cough that doesn’t do much to disguise the fact that he’s getting flustered, and you grin, satisfied. Two can play that game.

Fortunately, neither Satoru nor you have any intention of forfeiting any time soon.

NANAMI

Nanami is a private man. There is no reason for the whole world to know his business, and he doesn’t feel the need to put his relationship on display for everyone to see. His softness for you is still plain to see in how gentle his voice gets when he speaks to you, in how carefully he chooses his words, in how fond his eyes are when he listens to you tell him about your day. He knows you like him holding your hand, though, so he’ll indulge you, especially when you’re walking by his side through crowded streets.

That is for practical reasons, of course. First, it just wouldn’t do to lose sight of you. Second, people tend to steer clear of him, his serious expression and his broad frame, and that means they realize quickly to steer clear of you. It has nothing to do with how soft your hand is in his, or how the way you use your thumb to stroke his skin sends shivers down his back.

“That’s a lovely restaurant,” you comment, eyes drinking in the elegant decor while Nanami is examining the menu.

“It had excellent reviews,” he answers, not going into details as to the great lengths he’d gone to in order to ensure that this date was as perfect as humanly possible.

“I’ve been in the neighborhood so many times, and I had no idea this was here,” you say. The place is very small, only a handful of tables, all of them now filled. You’re sharing an alcove with Nanami, creating some distance with other customers.

“There aren’t many tables available, so they don’t advertise much,” he explains as he sets the menu down. “But they’re known for their excellent cuisine.”

You give him a smile, then lean closer to him to kiss him on the cheek. Your lips linger just a little too long, and then you move them close to his ear, which is already turning quite red.

“Thank you for planning all that,” you say sweetly. “It looks wonderful.”

He clears his throat when you pull away, avoiding your eyes.

“Of course,” he answers, voice wavering imperceptibly. “Anything for you.”

And you know he means it, too.

Under the table, his hand finds your leg, large palm easily covering your knee while calloused fingers carefully rub your calf. You bite your lip, welcome the warmth that spreads in your body. You know Kento well enough to be sure that that’s as far as he’ll go, that he wouldn’t dare to do anything more in such a public setting, and that makes you enjoy the intimacy of the gesture all the more.

Later that night, while the two of you are walking out, his jacket is around your shoulder at his insistence — “It’s cold outside” — and he’s getting ready to call a taxi.

“Kento?”

He lowers the phone to look at you, and you push yourself on your tiptoe, hand closing around his tie to pull him down towards you.

It’s late at night, he tells himself. There’s no one around, he tells himself. That’s why he closes his eyes and allows himself to melt into the kiss, regretting it when you pull away too soon and catching himself before he grabs you by the hips to get you closer to him.

“I had a great evening,” you say. “Should we take this to somewhere more private?”

How much more merciless can you get?

“Certainly,” he says. “Just give me a second.”

There is nothing he can deny you.

CHOSO

Choso cannot wrap his head around what he can and cannot do around you. The rules for what is proper, what is acceptable, have shifted so much since he was last around, and he would die before he embarrassed you — or worse, before he did something that would make you push him away. He knows that you wouldn’t, and yet the fear is like a weight that tugs on his heart every time he thinks about it. He walks by your side, glancing at your hand that’s freely hanging between the two of you, and though he brushes his knuckles against yours, he just cannot bring himself to do it. It’s to the point where it’s the only thing he’s thinking about — and he just can’t do it.

Then you see something that catches your eye and you grab his hand and pull him with you in that direction, and he thinks his heart could just fall out of his chest. You make it look so easy, so natural, being with him coming as easy to you as breathing, and he couldn’t possibly ask for more. It takes him many other tries, many other dates, before he can take your hand in his. When he does, you glance down in surprise, then grin at him, and kiss his knuckles softly — and he’s so happy he could die.

“So,” you say, sitting on the park bench, knee pressed against his while you’re leaning into him to show him your phone, your hair tickling his neck, “that’s the movies they have on tonight. Think we should call Yuuji to ask him what to watch?”

“Hm,” Choso says, not really focusing on anything you’re talking about, not when you’re this close to him, “isn’t— isn’t that the one franchise he’s always talking about?”

You burst out laughing, then rest your head on his shoulder.

“No offense, babe, but there is no one in the world I’d go see a Human Earthworm movie for. Even if this one is supposed to have romance in it,” you shudder at the thought, “I’d like to go see something actually. You know. Watchable.”

Choso’s mind is going in overdrive. You’re so close, and he knows he should have gotten used to this by now. He isn’t usually like this, but some passers-by are looking — not necessarily being judgmental, though there was an old lady earlier who scoffed and shook her head, but… looking.

“Then I don’t know if Yuuji is going to be much help,” he manages to say as you keep scrolling on the cinema’s website.

“That’s fair,” you sigh, standing up from the bench, and even if he can now think again, he misses your warmth and your smell right away. “Well, maybe we drop the movie and just go get something to eat, what do you say?

“Sounds good,” he answers, standing up after you.

Hesitantly, almost clumsily, he reaches for your hand, fingertips brushing against your thigh as he does, then tightens his grip around your palm, ensuring that it wouldn’t slip away from you. You give him a fond smile, then take a step to get closer to him, and kiss him gently. His breath hitches, and his eyes dart around the mostly empty park.

“T-there’s people around,” he says quietly, and he hates that you step back to look around.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”

He takes your hand to pull you with him, and you follow him through the grass as he finds a more secluded spot, behind a tree.

“There,” he says, and you chuckle at how satisfied with himself he sounds.

“Oh Choso,” you coo, leaning against the tree while you grab his shirt to pull him down towards you. His mouth is warm, eager, and his cheeks remain a fierce shade of red as he kisses you back insistently.

You would have missed the beginning of the movie anyway.

YUUJI

The thing about Yuuji is that any type of public demonstration of affection feels so natural coming from him. It’s almost never meant to be suggestive, it’s not something he thinks through, it’s just something he does. You’ll be sitting with Nobara when he appears, and he just puts his arm around you while talking to her, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You’re walking with him when he lifts his head up like he’s forgotten something, and what he forgot was to hold your hand, silly him.

If you walk by him while he’s sitting, he’ll grab your hips to pull you in his laps, fingers rubbing circles on the skin of your arms, absent-mindedly playing with your fingers as he holds your hand. After all, why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t even realize that it flusters you, and it just feels so natural for him to show his affection like that. He’ll look at you with stars in his eyes while you speak, not seeming to realize that his face is so close to him while you’re sitting in his lap.

No one pays attention to it anymore. You arrive just as Nobara is starting the movie — she’s putting on an action movie, thank you very much, even if Gojo just bought the collector edition of Human Earthworm 4 for Yuuji, with the director’s cut — and with all the students crammed in the room, including Panda, who’s taking most of the space on the couch, there’s nowhere left for you to sit.

“Come here,” Yuuji says cheerfully, waving you towards the armchair where he’s found his spot, “it’s about to start.”

You glance around the room for a reaction, but no one is paying you any mind. You walk over to him, perching yourself on one of the arms, legs over his. He doesn’t seem puzzled by it, just puts an arm around your waist casually.

Of course, you end up still sitting in his lap eventually, just slipping in it at some point in the movie. Can you be blamed? He’s warm and comfortable, and he wraps both arms around you so he can tuck his chin in the crook of your shoulder, nose brushing against your cheek when he turns his head. Not that he seems to notice how it makes your pulse quickens, eyes focused on the movie.

“What are the themes even supposed to be,” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows knitting together in annoyance.

“’Military good’?” you suggest quietly as a guy gets blown up on screen.

“The first half of the movie was about military bad,” he protests. “They can’t just act like that never existed.”

“Would you two shut up,” Nobara shouts from her spot, “or Maki will come beat you up!”

The two of you pipe down, knowing the threat is very serious and not one to take lightly.

When the movie ends, everyone gets up, stretching, but you’ve gotten comfortable against Yuuji’s chest, and you don’t feel like doing that just yet.

“That was terrible,” Yuuji comments, and you let out a brief laugh. Gojo has somehow made a cinephile out of him, and you love how worked up he gets over that stuff.

“Yeah, we should have been watching Human Earthworm 4 instead,” you say.

“Exact— oh, you’re making fun of him.”

You giggle, then tilt your head to kiss him. For a second, he freezes, eyes going wide. Kissing is the one thing he rarely initiates — but when you do, you get to see his gaze soften, before his whole body goes soft. His hold on your waist tightens — and then a pillow thrown with impressive precision hits him, and only him, on the ear.

“Not in public,” Maki shouts from all the way into the kitchen.

“Hey,” your boyfriend protests, “I’m not the one who—”

“You’re such a traitor,” you gasp, struggling to pull yourself free from his arms — but it’s no use against his strength, and he refuses to let go.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he says. “Now, where were we?”

You might have been at fault for the first pillow, but that second one is all on him, as far as you’re concerned.

MEGUMI

Megumi is a private guy. He can be affectionate in public, but there is a side of him that he only wants you to see. He especially doesn’t want any of your nosy friends, or worse, his adoptive dad to see how he can be around you. They would never stop teasing him after, and he doesn’t think he could live with that.

Or that they could live with that. Because he’d kill them.

It does annoy him that he’s supposed to deny himself because of them. If it was up to him, he’d spend most of his time alone with you, preferably in a small house in the middle of a forest with no one around, no curses, no sorcerers, no nothing. That, sadly, isn’t an option though, so he has to find his own way to do things.

“Don’t move,” he says sternly. “You have something on your face.”

You roll your eyes, but tilt your head up towards him, as he carefully runs his thumb under your eye, then over your cheek, blowing on it once it’s done.

“What was it?” you ask.

“Just an eyelash,” he says with a shrug. “You’re good now.”

You study him, waiting for him to give something away, but he doesn’t, just staring at you with the same expression he always wears.

“Should we get going?” he asks. “I thought we were supposed to catch a movie.”

“Sure,” you relent. “We should get moving.”

The streets are quite full at this time of the day, and you have to step aside frequently to let people pass, sometimes losing sight of Megumi. Eventually, with a sigh, he grabs your hand, pulling you with him as he walks, sending murderous glares to anyone who stays in his path.

“You’re going to get lost at this rate,” he mutters as he pulls you with him.

“I mean, worst case scenario we meet back at the theater,” you say, and you grin at the offended look he gives you. He notices it, but doesn’t answer, a light pink dusting his cheek as he glances away.

He hates the idea of being away from you on a day that’s supposed to be about the two of you — but since he refuses to say the quiet part out loud, you get to tease him all you want.

To be fair to him, having Megumi as your scary guard dog does make it much easier and much faster to reach the theater. He gives you a pointed look when you get there, and, to your regret, lets go of your hand quickly, though his touch lingers there a second longer than necessary.

“Should we get a couple seat?” you ask innocently as you approach the register.

Megumi glares at you once more while you give him a sweet smile.

“It’s better that way, right?” he says, clearing his throat. “Otherwise strangers might have to share one.”

“Sure,” you nod, not even bothering to hide your grin. “It’s just more practical, right?”

“Right,” he says stiffly.

Even once you are in the couple seat, he keeps a thoroughly appropriate distance from you, one that you might find a little hurtful if, at the end of the commercials, he didn’t fake a yawn to put his arm around you, in the least smooth way known to man.

“You know you can just do it,” you say quietly as the lights turn off, resting your head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to go through all that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles.

Reaching for his face, you tilt his head towards you, and push yourself to meet his lips for a sweet, soft kiss. For the first time since you’ve stepped foot outside, his whole body relaxes into yours, and he stops trying to pretend.

“You had something on your lips,” you whisper when you pull away.

He snorts, then quickly goes back in to steal one more kiss from you before the movie starts.

“Liar,” he says.

As if he’s one to talk.

MAKI

Maki isn’t a demonstrative person as a general rule. She does compliment you without hesitation, words falling from her mouth so genuinely that it never fails to fluster you, but physical demonstrations of affection don’t come easy to her, maybe because she received so little of it as a kid. She does it sporadically, and she does very much enjoy teasing you, loves knowing that she can get those reactions out of you.

It’s the more spontaneous gestures that get to you though. She’ll kiss your forehead after a battle that left you bruised, a way of comforting you. She’ll pat your head after you managed to pull an impressive move during training. On one occasion, when you got injured, she carried you in your arms to Shoko, demanding that you be taken care of right this instant. She’d been the one to get flustered after that, hiding her face in her hand in embarrassment when it was brought up later on.

It might not come easy to her, but she does love it when you do it — when you show her your love in that way.

“You’re late,” she scolds you when you reach her for one of your dates, needing to take a second to catch your breath because you’ve been running since getting out of the subway.

“Sorry,” you say between deep breaths, “there was an emergency.”

Worry flashes on her face immediately.

“A curse? Were you hurt?”

She reaches for you, tilting your face towards her as she examines it, then study your body to make sure you weren’t injured. You let her, surprised at first, then endeared.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she frowns once she realizes how soft your gaze has become.

You grin, then push yourself closer to kiss her. You don’t care that you’re in public, and though it wouldn’t have occurred to her to do it, neither does she. The kiss is sweet, gentle. I’m alive, you’re alive, it says. No need for more.

“See?” you ask cheerfully. “All good. Now, I’m pretty sure you were going to buy me dinner…”

She clicks her tongue, but she’s grinning. It’s nice to see her so at ease, so relaxed. It’s a side of her you’d never see within the walls of Jujutsu High, nor on a mission. You’re the only one that can bring it out of her, and man do you love it.

“I’m buying? Again?”

“I did almost just die.”

“Nice try, but you told me you were fine.”

“I’m fine now,” you insist, “but…”

“Well, I was disowned by my family, so I don’t have money. You’re buying.”

The two of you keep bickering, but, as you walk, you reach for her hand. She pulls away at first, years and years of reflexes kicking in instinctively, and once she realizes what you were doing, she’s the one who takes your hand in hers. She holds it delicately, careful not to break it — to be fair, her strength would probably allow her that.

It’s so sweet and light, being out there with you like that. So normal. She hopes it never ends.

You squeeze her hand, and she lets you guide her across the street, content with just following, knowing that she can trust you to fill in her shortcomings in the relationship, like she does it for yours.

The sky is grey, the forecast said it might run later tonight — Maki’s planned an umbrella, she’s sure you didn’t think of it — but as far as she’s concerned, the day is as beautiful as it could possibly be.

this is my first time writing for... pretty much everyone here except gojo lol. i hope you enjoyed it and that the characterization wasn't too off, but any feedback is welcome! if you want to support me and my writing, please reblog/leave a comment or send me an ask, i'd love to chat! i'll see you later for some more jjk writing ^-^

you can find my gojo x reader work here

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