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seiwas · 9 months

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₊˚⊹。so this is what it means to be in love | gojo satoru

wc: 8.9k

summary: gojo finds out what it really means to be in love.

contains: f!reader in mind, friends to lovers (prev. slowburn), suggestive scenes, might be mature/mildly explicit? (i only mention ‘butt’ once though…), ‘being in love’ as a journey, almost like a falls in love first (you) vs. falls in love harder (gojo), they fight, they swear, character death/s mentioned, shibuya onwards spoilers, lots and lots and lots of love

a/n: this is better read after the other parts in the collection but can work as a stand alone too!, there’s a jump between this and tell me about love (show me how) so gojo would have developed a lot in the relationship since then!

collection masterlist: conversations on love +02 (extra). look my way, you're what i crave <- you are here + (extended scene) too good to be mine -> 3.5a. this feeling inside of me—

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

this is a re-upload! (because i accidentally deleted the original one!)

Gojo catches onto love slowly.

He takes the hand you leave open just for him, and closes the space between your palms, reducing infinity.

Maybe he’s felt it all this time without knowing; after all, love looks a lot less profound as friends in your early 20’s.

But being in it—being in love? That’s uncharted territory.

Gojo’s been to a lot of places, has travelled back and forth from point-to-point endlessly. He’s survived battles, a war, near-death, and cursed spirits reincarnate; he’s got eyes—two bright blue and an extra four hidden, ones that see beyond human comprehension. Unearthing this simple truth shouldn’t shake him, shouldn’t even faze him. If anything, he should have seen it coming—

Except, he doesn’t.

It sneaks up on him, bit by bit, until he finds that being in love means getting to experience you all over again, just differently.

It starts with the little things.

Gojo has known you for so long (a decade and a few years more), but has only recently begun to notice everything: how your baby hairs stick out in the humidity of summer, the way you purse your lips in thought before finally deciding on a drink to order. You play with your fingernails subconsciously, out of habit, the soft taps on your nail beds an accompaniment of anxious conversations you’ve had since you were 23.

He knows you always blink twice before focusing on him, and it’s a mystery whether this is a recent development or something he’s just never noticed, but if you’re trying to enchant him by the flutter of your eyelashes, he wants to let you know that it’s working—except, he knows that you aren’t, because you’re just like that: a daydream without even trying.

These aren’t new things; he’s sure he’s probably encountered them all before, but lately they’ve evolved into cute things, and there’s no hiding the slight curve of his lips every time he spots them.

The sun is beaming brighter this summer, the ocean a faraway blur from the beach towel you set up under the shade. Going to the beach is never your go-to when you think of an extremely hot afternoon, but Yuuji’s been eyeing a weekend getaway since sorcerer work’s lessened significantly.

‘It’s a good effort,’ Gojo convinces you, ‘to get everyone together again.’

And it is—you see it now: Yuuji and Megumi preparing to fling Yuuta into the water while Nobara and Maki race along the shoreline. Toge stays close to Panda but he watches fondly, eyes crinkling every now and then, happy.

When you blink, the image of them softens—a captured memory in the heat haze.

The only older ones here are you and Gojo; Shoko’s always disliked the stickiness of sunblock on her skin, and Ijichi’s new position has made him constantly busy. Somewhere in the distance, you can maybe envision Nanami. He wouldn’t come if you or Gojo asked, but if it were Yuuji—

You rub at your eye, resting your chin on your hand as you will your tear ducts to please, don’t cry.

Yuuji's been smiling a lot more lately, an observation you note from the way his ears are perked up every time you look his way. It’ll never be the same as it used to be but it’s relieving to know that he can exist living as himself now. Just Yuuji.

You hug your knees tighter to your chest, wrapping your arms around it. Your place under the coconut tree provides ample enough shade but your back still burns from Gojo haphazardly slathering sunscreen on it after hearing an ice cream stand from miles away.

The mind is a weird place to be at times like this—split into bittersweet reminiscing and telling yourself to just take this moment and breathe, to live in it. You think about Megumi, and how you hurt for him, always will, for all that he’s lost despite every attempt to avoid it.

You should have been there for Tsumiki, you could have been there for both of them.

Your guilt never leaves you even on days that shine as vividly as this, but perhaps that’s the silver lining—that they’re still with you, always. You can carry pieces of them to these places, and scatter them to the wind, to the sand, to the sea, and maybe to the ice cream stand Gojo’s waiting in line of, surrounded entirely by kids. They all rise to half his size, but if you squint, you think the bounce in his step makes him blend right in.

A chuckle escapes you.

You could sort through your memories and land on one where he looks just like this—freakishly large limbs towering over a tiny, excited Tsumiki. Back then, an ice cream stop after school consisted of your pseudo-family of four, with Megumi on your hand and Tsumiki on his leg, both gripping tightly to combat a chilly 10°C.

Things are different now, evidently. Megumi’s outgrown it, and Tsumiki is no longer here. But Gojo has stayed the same, and it’s comforting to know that he will continue to be this Satoru, your Satoru, even when some things are gone.

You don’t realize you’ve spaced out until he waves the ice cream cone while walking towards you.

Gojo is a sight in trunks the color of his eyes, with seahorses and starfishes in an alternating pattern of peachy-pink against cerulean blue.

You could have sworn you asked for your own cone, but he plops down beside you holding only one. For the both of you. The side-eye you give him is almost criminal, if not deadly, but your lips twitch from the smile you’re hiding (terribly).

He raises an eyebrow and you break character, shaking your head while laughing.

“Did you eat the other one on the way here?” you tease, craning your neck to lick at the bottom scoop (vanilla-strawberry-vanilla, Gojo’s signature order).

Your tongue lands dangerously close to his fingers, and he feels it, but his eyes only land on you—your lips, how they part for your tongue to glide smoothly on his–both of your–dessert. You look every bit of an angel in the soft, pale hues of your bikini, but Gojo’s thoughts are anything but saintly.

He blushes furiously, the tips of his ears and nose bright red as he turns away from you quickly.

“I’m fulfilling your dream of sharing an ice cream cone with me.” he tilts his chin up, proud, smirking slightly. He jokes about it knowing full well that this is his dream come true, just by the look of you.

You stay quiet, rolling your eyes but never meanly, no. You only ever do it fondly—he knows, being on the receiving end of it one too many times.

The beach towel scrunches when you scoot closer, looping your arm around his as you both rest your elbows on your knees. Gojo holds the cone between you two, tipping it towards you when it’s your turn to lick.

He shouldn’t stare, shouldn’t hyperfixate, but it’s so cute how you get the tiniest bit of ice cream on the tip of your nose—as if it belongs there, soft and sweet just like the rest of you.

You look up to find Gojo gazing at you, eyes glimmering like sunlight on the ocean, and a tiny smile that only widens when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Your eyes narrow suspiciously, scrunching your nose in an effort to stop yourself from grinning.

When Gojo looks at you this way, as if you are his favorite place rediscovered, your heart thumps furiously against your ribcage.

“What…” you drawl, your smile impossible to hide in the lilt of your voice.

Gojo thinks he can count every eyelash, every speck of sand dotting your face, and stil not be bored of you. He can’t stop beaming.

Is this what it means to be in love with you?

“Nothing.” he replies, almost giggling, a little bashful but with every inch of sincerity. You know that smile, the only one that holds every ounce of Satoru. Gojo smiles big and wide to everyone else, but this small one you know, is reserved just for you.

He leans in, lips coming closer to brush against the tip of your nose. Your eyes fall shut, instinctively, and the pink dot is wiped clean, a hint of strawberry dancing on his palate. He’s done this more times than he can count, has gotten this near to know that close will never be close enough, but you still jolt a bit—PDA has never been your thing.

When he pulls away, you continue to stare at each other, locked in a gaze until the ice cream begins to drip down his fingers and onto the beach towel. It misses his trunks by a hair and you both laugh at how he belatedly tries to escape it even though it’s already there.

It’s indescribable, this moment, seeing you in slow motion, laughing as bright as the sun—the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. It takes every bit of him to look away so he can wipe his hands clean from the dripping dessert.

You hand him a packet of wipes and beckon him to sit in front of you after. Squeezed onto the palm of your hand is a copious amount of sunscreen you plan to slather all over him. A touch-up, if you will.

Gojo has sensitive skin, pale as bond paper and burns just as quickly. The high points of his face are already reddening, warm to the touch when you dab at them with sunscreen.

You’re so near, so close, sitting cross-legged in front of him with your knees touching his. The tip of your tongue sticks out just slightly as you focus on his skin.

Even though he knows, he still wonders what your lips would taste like, SPF chapstick and crumbly bits from the wafer cone. He wonders what your eyelashes would feel like, fluttering over his own.

The light casts a halo around you and he thinks it’s fitting for all that you do. You pamper him like this, slather love all over his chest and back, massage it in so it dissolves into him—and he feels it so deep that he tastes it.

How can your love be so sweet? He thinks, sighing as your fingers work sunscreen up his neck from his collarbone. You always apply his skincare like this: upwards, gently—‘no tugging, please!’—something about keeping his baby face even when he’s old.

“You should join them,” you mumble, rubbing more product onto the nape of his neck. You’re leaning over his shoulder, neck brushed against his cheek.

Gojo hums, watching everyone from a distance. It’s been a while since he’s had a day like this.

“But maybe after 30 minutes, so the sunblock doesn’t wash off. You’re already burning.” you note, coming back to sit.

Of course, he’s already burning. How can he not when the sun is right in front of him?

You join everyone for a game of beach volleyball in the sunset of the afternoon. You’re transported back to high school, the last time you did this—you and Satoru against Shoko and Suguru, with Haibara keeping score.

From the way Gojo’s eyes are glossed over, you can tell he’s thinking about it too, the memory having seared itself into your brains forever, it seems.

Being paired together should feel familiar—the same, but it doesn’t—isn’t, because Gojo can’t concentrate, sneaking glances to notice all the little things about you that he never used to. Your skin shines from the combination of sweat and sunscreen, and when you crash into him it’s both sticky and slippery. He should really ask for a time-out before you blind him completely.

You look unfairly good in your bikini, too good he can barely hear you calling for him; between the ocean and his blood rushing, any other sound is drowned out into nothing.

Maki and Yuuji absolutely demolish the both of you, reaching 15 first in the final set. Gojo blames the loss on you of course, even though he’s missed every pass you’ve sent his way and netted 60% of his spikes.

And maybe it technically is your fault—you and your (very distracting) little things. But it’s entirely on him that he’s fallen for it, fallen for you as much as this.

Gojo thinks of love differently when he sees a picture of himself and all it does is remind him of you.

There’s a photo tucked safely in his wallet (saved and set as his homescreen too). Shoko snorts when she walks in on him printing it, all six-foot-three of him hunched over the small inkjet printer in the faculty room.

“It’s all digital now, Satoru,” she scoffs, taking a puff on her cigarette.

Gojo doesn’t say anything even though he knows it’s true, too focused on watching the printer push out the two-by-three inch image he’s about to cut into.

Print photos aren’t as important anymore when cloud storage spaces are just as–if not more–accessible, but Gojo is admittedly sentimental despite every front he puts up to hide it.

He’s kept every single gift you’ve given him and camouflaged it as decoration in his office, and the family drawing 10-year-old Tsumiki made is still folded between the pages of a self-help book Yaga had given him when he first decided to teach.

When every moment is experienced so vividly, seen through a muddle of infinite energies, there are those he wishes could stay still—ones that take up space to remind him: ‘this is real, it happened, and here is proof that it did’.

He already has one of all of you, fresh-faced and barely pushing the peaks of youth at 16. A tangle of arms wrapped around each other—one of his gripping tightly on Suguru, and the other hanging loosely over you. Utahime is crouched in front, holding the hand you’ve placed on her shoulder while pulling Shoko into a semi-squish-semi-hug (because out of the four of you, Shoko is her favorite—completely valid; if given the choice, she’d be your favorite too). Nanami and Haibara stay close to Suguru, squatting low to balance the photo, and Haibara is smiling, the ever cheery grin Suguru loves to dote on, while Nanami is Nanami—sharp features and a serious gaze that you all know he’ll grow into someday, handsome with age.

For the longest time, Gojo has kept that photo hidden, locked away in the drawer of his bedside table as if keeping it there means the memory will stay guarded forever—untouched, unspoiled, unruined.

It would have stayed there if you didn’t stumble upon it while looking for his painkillers during another one of his skull-crushing migraines.

You approach him with the image hesitantly, eyes damp and glossy. Years have faded the colors ever so slightly, but the corners remain crisp from being stowed away neatly. You say sorry, that you shouldn’t have looked through his things, but you remember the moment it was taken so fondly: a visit to the Kyoto campus on a one-day break to train with other students.

Gojo has many theories about time and the multitude of spaces it takes—like how a person can exist at different points in time, disparate at each instance, and still take up the same big chunk of space. The opposite can be true too, that someone can live finitely (just once) and occupy spaces in every place you look: the face of a passerby down the road, a sign at the corner of the street, or even a photograph that immortalizes people you once knew.

He only shares when you ask, aware that he tends to be a bit of a nerd about it whenever it’s brought up, but you don't mind. You like listening to it all, no matter how insightful or confusing they are for you to make sense—a version of him not many get to witness. His explanations are comprehensible for the most part, except—

When Gojo tells you that he’s kept the image in his drawer, hidden, because exposing it to the space-time that exists now will erase every reminder that it ever happened, you hug him tightly.

Your sniffles are heard from the way his head is tucked into the crook of your neck, your fingers gripping strands of his hair in empathy.

He considers your near-tears as a sign that the memory is long gone, decayed into the brittling tragedy of reality. But you smile, the corners of your lips bittersweet as you express disbelief that he’s kept it all this time.

You tell him delicately that some precious things are meant to be celebrated, put out to be remembered—to be experienced.

And it becomes clearer to him then, by the look in your eyes and remembrance soft-spoken, that what good is a photo unseen?

What good is a love unwitnessed?

When you gift him a frame a year after finding the photo, he hangs it by the wall next to his office door. The image is painful to look at, always has been (even when it was hidden in his drawer)—during Suguru’s defection, and death anniversaries especially.

The recent one for Nanami was heavy; the first time he’s ever been able to process grief fully.

Gojo can argue that it grows more difficult every time he catches a glimpse of it from his desk, but you have a way of honoring pain that doesn’t make it sting as bad—that turns it into a reminder of a love that was once there, of feelings that hurt as evidence that someone cared.

Now, he wants another photo printed, one of just the two of you. Not because it hurts, but because he wants this precious thing to be remembered and seen—for this love to be witnessed too.

It’s self-timered, snapped under the shade of a cherry blossom tree in full bloom. The picture is far from perfect: your eyes bright and mouth open mid-fear of his phone falling off the bridge railing.

You may look a teensy bit funny, but Gojo will always find it cute. Anyone can see it, at how he looks at you in that moment—like you are every bit worthy of the distance travelled and seasons waited. He gazes at you fondly, eyes holding clear skies and pink lips curling into a small smile.

It’s cheesy, but if you ask him what he thinks about this year’s flowers, he’ll tell you none of them (not even any of them combined) could compare to you. The cherry blossoms could be gone and he’d still see them everywhere (in the softness of your lips, the fullness of your cheeks, the radiance you emit when you are truly, solely content and happy).

He remembers that afternoon well: the spring breeze that jolts his phone sideways, his hand resting on your lower back, unseen in the image. There’s no real reason for visiting the blossoms on this day of all days, but Gojo doesn’t believe in coincidences, and he’s counted down exactly to a year since you both had your first kiss.

It’s so silly, because he’s never thought of things like this before. He knows you probably don’t think much of it either considering that neither of you have made anything official yet since.

And he feels a little stupid for that, honestly.

You have a drawer of his clothes for the nights he stays over (more often than not), and even though you go on these little trips that are so obviously dates, you both still just tell everyone you’re ‘hanging out’.

He’s not fooling anyone here, not when he looks at you then with the feeling of his chest expanding, stretching to accommodate the overflows of his affection since learning the ways to love you—tenderness caught in little pixels of eternity.

When Gojo goes through all 179 photos from that afternoon, he filters out the ones to delete and picks this one out especially—favorites and resizes it to fit his home screen and his wallet too.

There’s something about the look on his face that reminds him of every time he’s caught the same one on you.

He slides the photo into the little sleeve behind his credit card, catching himself smiling—this must be because of you, he thinks, and the bits and pieces of yourself that have somehow become part of him slowly, sneaking into him unknowingly.

If this is what it means to be in love, with you, then he’s fucked.

Don’t you know that he’s insatiable? These traces of you will only make him want the whole of you.

You find the photo while he rushes to the restaurant restroom. On ‘hang out’s like this, you insist on splitting the bill, but Gojo has always been stubborn and you’ve learned that you can never argue.

He hands you his wallet to pay with his card, and when you slide it out, the photo falls. It’s face down on the floor when you pick it up, fully expecting it to be a photocard of some idol you know Gojo follows.

But it isn’t, and your smile widens.

When Gojo comes back, you’re looking up at him affectionately, biting your lips as if to stop yourself from speaking—the same way he always does.

It’s funny because, slotted between your two fingers is the photo he’s kind of flustered you found, but he has no time to be embarrassed when he sees a little bit of himself in the way you’re staring at him right now.

“So, Yuuji asked if we were together.”

You quirk an eyebrow, looking up at Gojo from the pile of laundry you’ve begun folding on your bed. He emerges from the bathroom, ruffling his hair with a towel.

Over the past year, Gojo has spent his weekends off with you, sleeping over and traipsing around your room in his pajama set as if he’s lived here just as long as you.

You snort as you fold, amused that this is even a question to begin with. Yuuji’s always been known for being exceptionally dense, but you didn’t think it was this bad. Gojo was especially touchy with you during that beach trip, and you’re sure Megumi and Nobara have caught up to let him know by now, somehow.

“What made him ask?”

“I think he wants to take you away.” Gojo teases, wiggling his eyebrows as he throws the towel on the chair across your vanity.

You roll your eyes, still sweetly, indulging him, “Sure.”

It’s now a running joke that Gojo’s threatened about Yuuji stealing you; you’ve always had a soft spot for bright eyes and even brighter souls and Yuuji is as close to that as anyone can get.

It’s not like that though, it could never be; Yuuji is just like your Megumi—the two boys you want to protect and care for in hopes of treating them better than their lives have ever.

Gojo feels the same, you know, otherwise he wouldn’t have guided them as much as he has (despite his... questionable ways). Still, your hands have always been gentler, kinder—and though shorter, have always outstretched much farther than his.

You have a way of inching yourself into people’s lives that just fits. He’s experienced it first-hand, can’t even dare to imagine what his life would be like if you didn’t.

He walks across the room to you, bed dipping as he steadies a knee before draping his entire body over your shoulders.

Now that you think about it, it makes sense that Yuuji’s confused, because Gojo has always been extremely touchy to everyone, just never when the feelings mattered, with you. Kiss him once, though, and it snowballs into an avalanche of firsts. And what he’s about to do right now, he thinks, might just trigger another one to form all together.

“As if I’d let him.” he mumbles right by your ear, chin tucked by the crook of your neck. It tickles when he speaks, his nose poking at your cheeks.

“Who put you in charge?” you scoff jokingly, unfazed.

He moves away from you in disbelief, mouth open as he stares at you mindlessly folding.

To be fair, he can’t fault you. You aren’t technically official even though you have kind-of-been for a little over a year. There’s no particular reason, just that you haven’t talked about it—part because you wanted him to approach it whenever he was ready, and also, because it just never seemed like a priority.

You laugh as he stares at you, stunned into silence, the pout on his face borrowed from all the versions of yours.

There’s no point of contention because you’ve only ever loved Gojo since you were 17.

“Kidding,” you kiss his cheek as an apology.

“Don’t even joke about that.” he huffs, you’re starting to take after him a little too much.

“You’re mine.” he murmurs after, arms wrapped around your waist and legs stretched out wide to encase you.

He says it as if it is the simplest truth.

Your heartbeat quickens, too loud and pounding; this is the first time you’ve ever heard this from him, and a part of you thinks this is just another one of those flirty side-comments he makes on a whim.

“You tell him that?” you hope he can’t hear your voice shake as he nuzzles your neck, your fingers trembling on the pair of socks you have yet to roll.

He hums, hugging you tighter. He waits for you to finish folding before letting you lean against him, offering his fingers for you to fiddle with. They’re cold, long and slender, veiny just by a bit, and he always gives them to you like they’re yours, you like to think.

There’s an inhale, a breath of hesitation, before he exhales.

“Something like it.”

You don’t say anything, only nod, and it’s nerve-wracking. He’s so nervous even though he knows he doesn’t have to be because it’s just you. And there’s no need to doubt what you’re feeling. But—

“You are though,” he pauses, “right?”

He has to be sure. This is a testament to you more than himself that he’s learned to ask instead of bulldozing you like he does with everyone else. Who else will he pick that up from but you?

There’s hesitation you hear that you think shouldn’t be there anymore; the fact that you’ve given so much of yourself to this man and he still thinks you’re unsure—

“‘Cause I’m yours.” he speaks, clearly, definitively, before you can even answer. And you know—you’ve known ever since that party years ago. A simple admittance: ‘I’m taken’.

You turn around to face him, eyes shimmering.

Can he see? You’re meant for him only.

All you’ve ever wanted was to love him; everything else he’s done up until this point is already more than you could ever imagine. The labels can only do so much to capture the gravity of what you are to one another: years of history unpacked into a mishmash of feelings overlapping—it’s a lot.

You sit cross legged in front of him, your knees touching his. He’s biting his lips again, an anxious habit you want to kiss away.

Gojo has proven far too much of himself already that he’s serious with you—your kind-of-confession, that confrontation, and the days after, all the ways you’ve both learned to love each other.

You cup his cheeks.

A single word cannot possibly define what he is to you.

“I mean, o-only if you want me to be.” he adds on, blue eyes darting back and forth.

Gojo runs his mouth almost all the time and you’ve never heard him stutter once in his life. Except now.

He’s endearing like this—a version of him you are slowly discovering.

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” you finally say, and it’s a relief.

He feels good, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His arms pull you closer, hugging you tighter as you both smile.

He kisses you once, twice, maybe a million times all over, travelling across your eyelids, the center of your forehead, down to the corners of your mouth before landing a real one right on your lips.

Gojo always looks pretty but he looks prettiest like this, worry-free, with love in his eyes and nothing but pure happiness in the way he holds you.

He won’t tell you that Yuuji asked about your anniversary, not if you were together.

At least now he has an answer.

Gojo stares at you like he wants to say something, a thank you maybe, but he bites his lips instead. No words will ever amount to this feeling, he thinks, of his chest expanding and heart hammering. So he kisses you with all of it, trailing soft smacks of his lips down your neck, tickling. The tips of his hair are still wet from his shower, leaving droplets on your skin as he nips.

You laugh—sprinkled in love.

“S-stop!” you push him away, “Satoru,” giggling, “tickles!”

“We have to consummate it now.” he whispers, grabbing you by the waist to place you on his lap, squeezing your sides while nibbling at your neck playfully.

You roll your eyes at his antics, “It’s not–” you laugh out loud when he pinches your hips, “–marriage, Satoru.”

Oh, if only you knew, he thinks.

The image you’ve planted in his head is dangerous when he’s this drunk on love right now.

More decades, more years spent with you? In another life, or maybe even in this one, if time permits, he wouldn’t mind making that come true.

It’s crazy how much things can change—for all his life, he’s ruled out the possibility of love ever taking root in his ribcage.

You’ve managed to make it feel so easy, so good, even when he was shit-terrified not knowing how to love you like he should.

Now, he thinks, how could he ever miss out on love this way? A love this good, with you?

For all of Gojo’s life, he’s never had to be anyone else—always the strongest, the only one. He’s never had to change anything about himself, because what’s there to improve when you’re already the best?

In a way, this is why it works with you. You’ve taken him as he is, all the good and ugly and never asked for anything more than what he can give.

But being this in love with you—it’s foreign. There are pieces within him shifting, all on their own without him knowing.

How he wants to be better, for you. To be good enough to deserve all of it, and give back more of it too.

Gojo doesn’t realize how much love has changed him until he feels it uprooting every insecurity he never even knew existed, pulling it all up to the surface.

When things are going great, it’s hard to imagine them ever going the other way.

“You don’t mean that.” you mumble, voice trembling.

Gojo stares at you, at your lips quivering and the fists clenched to your sides. There are tears collecting in pools by your eyes, and if there’s anything else he hates in this world, it’s seeing you cry.

So why?

Why couldn’t he just shut up?

“Please tell me you don’t mean that,” you take a step closer, gripping the edge of his jacket, “Satoru.” your voice cracks, begging.

It’s an out-of-body experience when Gojo registers that he’s fucked up, and he sees himself now, bird’s-eye-view, and thinks this is the worst thing he could do to you after all you’ve been through.

“I need some time to think,” he says, finally, the only words coming out of his mouth—but he can’t hear himself speaking.

He should have said sorry, taken it all back, he thinks, not make it worse by leaving.

He heads for the door, heart crunching under each footstep away from you.

Is this what being in love’s supposed to do? Break his heart while yours is bleeding?

You’re too good for Gojo, in every sense of the word—and he knows it.

You are far too kind, far too generous, far too patient with him. You give him more love than he deserves, definitely, and admittedly enough, with how he is, you have been settling for the bare minimum but that’s on him, not on you.

He had no right speaking to you the way he did, hurting you with accusations born from insecurities he’s never before had to deal with.

He knows it.

Who accuses you of ‘meddling’ as if everything out of you doesn’t come from the goodness of your heart? Of provoking you with ‘chasing the bare minimum’ as if he isn’t aware that that’s all he’s given you to work with?

Utahime was right in telling you to be careful with him, and he doesn’t blame her for it. He would have done the same.

He should have told you there was something brewing inside of him already—should have talked to you instead of bursting from all the things people have been saying lately.

Gojo hasn’t spoken to you in three days and the feeling this compares to is worse than anything else he’s ever had to face.

He knocks on your door at night, a little past dinner and too early for bedtime. They echo loudly within the walls of your apartment, and you drag yourself up despite your obvious look of heartbreak.

Gojo hears your footsteps and everything moves entirely too slowly; the lock, taking far too long to turn, the gap between the door and the door frame widening incrementally. Even your face comes into view as if in stop motion, frame-by-frame, gradually.

His hands are in his pockets, lips bitten to bleed. He’s pretty sure he isn’t breathing when he takes you in—puffy eyes and a sweater that belongs to him.

(Is it sick of him to say that he still finds you beautiful this way? Even when you look every bit the part of heartache?)

Gojo didn’t have a plan coming here, didn’t have a list of things to say, just the feeling that he needed to talk to you, see you, even just be around you today.

When your eyes meet, it’s quiet. You stare into him for one–two–three– (Can you tell that they’re watery? Can you see they’re puffed up too?) and then open the door wider to let him in. You head straight to the kitchen, never once looking back while dragging your feet.

He stands outside a few seconds more, waiting for you to take it back—but you don’t, so he walks in and closes the door.

He’s been in your apartment plenty of times before, has practically lived in it by how often he stays over. But this is the first time he’s felt wholly out of place, not knowing where to put himself, just standing in the space between your kitchen counter and the living room awkwardly.

You push a glass of water towards him and he can’t stop staring at it—at you, at your fingers that he wants nothing more now but to hold.

Even with all his faults, all his wrongs, you open your arms for him to walk into, allow him in as if he didn’t just hurt you.

And he wants to cry, at the fact that this place still feels like home, at how it’ll always feel that way wherever you go.

How are you still treating him so kindly? Still taking care of him? A glass of water is one too many for someone like him.

You turn away from him to pour yourself your own then he speaks—

“You should be angry with me.” Gojo says softly, but you hear it.

You pause, tilting the pitcher back upright.

“Why aren’t you angry at me?” he says, a little louder this time, more desperate, more pleading.

Why are you never angry at me? he wants to ask.

You turn around to face him, putting the pitcher down.

Under your kitchen lights, his eyes shine like sunlight on the ocean, waves lapping on the shore. You think it might be a trick of the light, but his lips tremble when he closes them, as if he can’t speak any more.

It’s just as you’ve said, there’s no point being angry with him when your heart can never take it.

You always give Gojo the benefit of the doubt, and though he’s hurt you—though this might be the most painful thing he’s told you yet, you know that he’s been under immense pressure lately. Stressed beyond belief from negotiating with the government on policies for jujutsu society.

It’s not an excuse, you know, but Gojo always has his reasons. He'll tell you eventually, you believe that much.

You give him a sad smile, struggling to stop your tears from spilling. His fists are clenched too tightly, nails digging in hard enough to bleed. He hasn’t moved since coming in, so you push yourself off the kitchen sink towards him.

You take his hands first, unfurl each finger pressed upon his palm and rub gently. He cries quietly for a love so pure that only you would attempt to ease his hurt despite the pain he’s dealt you.

You tiptoe second, pulling the sleeves of your (his) sweater before reaching up to wipe his eyes—beautiful and blue just like you’ve always known, droplets of the ocean at your fingertips.

“Be mad,” he whispers, “please.” squeezing his eyes tightly.

It hurts more when you aren’t, he thinks.

His hand comes up to grip your wrist, bringing it down to cup his cheek. You stroke your thumb across his skin, soothing, loving, and that’s all it takes for him to pull you in. He hugs you tight, arms wrapped around you, clutching.

He wouldn’t deserve you. In any life.

Gojo’s never cried this much before, head pressed to your neck as you rub circles along his back, shushing him softly. You start sniffling too, small at first until it turns into soft hiccups when you finally cry.

Your grip on him tightens.

“‘M sorry.” he mumbles, lips moving against your neck.

“‘S–” you hiccup, “–okay.”

“Stop saying that when it’s not,” he presses against you, nuzzling your neck, “I hurt you.”

“Then don’t–” another hiccup, “–call yourself–” hic, “–bare minimum.” you cry harder.

Gojo knows your heart and the tears that leak out of your eyes; he knows they hold pain for more than just yourself but every single person in your life. You, crying now, is evidence of that truth—shedding tears for him not just because of him when he thinks he’s the bare minimum.

This must be what it means to be truly, deeply loved, he thinks, to have someone know what you mean without even having to speak it—to know your heart, and all the good and bad parts of it.

“I don’t think I’m good enough to you,” he admits, pulling himself away from you.

When he sees your face, wet, with your nose and eyes puffed up from crying, he decides that he hates it more than anything else. Makes it sick to his stomach, even.

He cradles your cheeks, thumbs wiping away your tears. A whole hand of his could cover your face entirely, but he always, without fail, holds you delicately.

“That’s not–” hic, “–true.” you gather your breathing, holding him by the wrists as he presses his forehead against yours. “Only I get to decide that. Not anyone, not you.”

You kiss his lips, a small peck before nudging his nose with yours. You soothe each other this way—in the quiet, swaying to your own tune.

“You’re good to me plenty, Satoru.” you whisper, once both of you have settled.

He opens his eyes to look at you, smiling sadly as he cradles your face, “I didn’t mean it.”

Whatever he told you that day, taking it all out on you.

“I know.” you mumble, nodding.

You always do.

Gojo has always loved you, in some type of way—as friends, colleagues, a-little-bit-more-but-less-than what you are today.

But how he feels right now? It’s kind of ridiculous, borderline out-of-hand, and it’s driving him insane.

It’s such a simple, ordinary thing for you to do: you rush up to him, phone in hand and scroll to some video you found online. You’re so excited, a bounce in your step as if he’s the first and only person you want to show this to. Your eyes shine bright with a megawatt smile to match, and you’re talking so, so fast, completely lit up like fireworks in the making.

He knows you think that he’s listening but, he couldn’t care less about it honestly. Sorry. Not when the words go in one ear and out the other, because all that registers is how adorable you are, giddy and everything.

He makes a joke—completely unrelated, but you find it so funny. Then you’re laughing, full on smacking his arm, doubled over, arms hugging your stomach, guffawing. Your feet are kicking the air as you sink deeper into your couch. Gojo’s standing in front of you, post-enactment of some impression he made, and he’s frozen in place but warm all over.

Seeing you laugh like this, smile like this, being so pretty when you’re happy, the pounding in his chest goes crazy.

This isn’t the first time he’s made you laugh; he does it all the time. You almost always roll your eyes and chuckle, sometimes giggle with your eyes squinting and laugh lines creasing. But it might be the first time it’s like this: with you so bright, more than the sun and every other star in the sky.

And he thinks, this is all he could ever want—to make you happy for the rest of his life.

There’s too much of this feeling inside of him, clawing at his throat, itching to get out. He’s filled with it, has been filled with it for so long that it’s starting to overflow and if he doesn’t say this now he might just—

“I’m so in love with you.”

Gojo breathes it out, as if finally releasing it after all this time. You don’t think he processes it because he just stands there, in the middle of your living room, staring at you.

Your laughter dies with maybe a little part of you too (in a good way).

He looks so sweet, so sincere, and you see his heart, so big, so honest and pure. You get flashbacks of every Satoru you have ever known, at 15, 17, 23, to now.

It’s not like either of you don’t know; it’s plain as day, how you feel about each other—and you would have been fine going on without ever having to hear him speak of love this way.

But hearing it now, it’s far better than anything you could have imagined.

You stare at him. He stares at you.

He’s shocked too.

You don’t want to embarrass him, especially if he didn’t mean to say it, so you chuckle, moving on to break the quiet.

“I can unhear it if you want,” you offer shyly, genuinely.

Gojo looks at you, confused, before a pout makes its way onto his face. You sit up on your couch, playing with your fingers as you look up at him.

Sure, he practically blurted it out, maybe in the heat of the moment, or something, but it doesn’t make it any less true. And he’s realizing that the only thing he really wants from this—

“Though…” you continue, biting your lips, “I think I’m pretty in love with you too.”

The little laugh you make has him, completely.

The grin that breaks on his face is infectious. Gojo, who is normally so pale, is now pink all over—red by his ears and down his neck. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that can be found in yours too.

This moment right here feels like first loves—teens first saying ‘I love you’.

“You think?” he asks incredulously, joking, “So you’re not sure?” he walks closer to you.

You laugh, candy for his cravings, and take his hand to kiss each knuckle before guiding it to your cheek. He runs a thumb across your skin, affection on his fingertips. His index finger hooks itself under your chin, tilting it to rest on his stomach as you look up at him.

A kiss to your forehead, tenderly, gently.

The best part about being in love?

He gets to be in it with you.

Gojo can’t sleep.

It’s not anything new—4 hours on average, maybe 6 on a good night. He doesn’t remember a time when sleep ever came easily.

Sleeping with you, beside you, has helped, but it’s never solved the problem. You’ve gotten him to a full 8 hours before, but never consecutively, and he’s starting to think that if you can’t do it, nothing ever will.

Your sleeping positions change every night, but they always come out as some variation of hugging. Gojo firmly believes that he might as well sleep alone if you aren’t touching.

Tonight, you’re spooning, arm slung over his waist and palm right on his chest, fingers interlaced with his. Your legs stay tangled together with soft puffs of air blowing at the back of his neck.

He opens his eyes and checks the clock by his bedside. 3:24 a.m.

He sighs deeply, carefully maneuvering his body to slip away from you. You used to wake up the first few times this happened, worried about an emergency or some kind of accident. Being a sorcerer trains you for things like that.

You’ve always known Gojo had bad sleep, just not the severity of it.

You don’t wake up to it as much as you used to, having grown accustomed to it after more nights together, but on the off-chance that you do, Gojo always kisses your forehead gently as if to tell you that it’s okay, you can go back to sleep.

You don’t wake up now, thankfully, so he grabs his phone and heads for the kitchen. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest tonight, far heavier than others he’s woken up from. He pours himself a glass of water before hopping on the kitchen counter, ready to sort through the bowl of candy sitting on the island.

The date today is October 31. Halloween. It’s been a few years since Shibuya but he still feels like he’s suffocating.

In the train station. In the box.

In front of Suguru—or Kenjaku, both, whatever.

He’s gone to therapy, just like you wanted, for the both of you, and grieving has been an interesting concept to wrap his head around since.

But no matter how much he trains his mind to deal with it, his body will always remember the feeling.

He snaps out of it when he hears your footsteps padding on the floorboards. Your figure emerges from the hallway, bed hair and eyes still sleepy, squinting.

“Satoru?” you rub at your eyes, his sleep shirt entirely too long as the sleeves extend past your fingertips. The extra fabric swings in the air. “You okay?” you whisper, approaching him.

Waking you up is the last thing he could ever want right now, but it’s hard when you’re also the only one he can talk about this with. When you know what it’s like to grieve everyone too.

He has every intention of brushing it off, of telling you to go to sleep, but one look at you—one look at him and it’s like you just know. He doesn’t even need to explain.

It isn’t hard to piece together, knowing what today is and seeing him choked up the way he is. You tell Gojo it’s your intuition, but he has a tell, and maybe you’re the only one who knows it.

His eyes—they’ve always given him away. There’s the Satoru you know, then a Satoru that’s far removed, gone away. You can spot it though, the moment it loses its sparkle, the moment it turns from blue to gray.

He feels a little selfish sharing this with you; he’s not the only one who’s lost people. You have too.

You stand in front of him and offer a sad smile, outstretching your arms as an invite, as if to tell him: you can stay here for as long as you’d like.

He moves into your space slowly, hopping off the kitchen island to slump against you.

He doesn’t hug you yet, not immediately, hands still shaky at the memory. You rub his back, hooking your chin on his shoulder as he bends down to rest his head by your cheek.

You take his hand delicately, bringing them to your lips so you can kiss every fingertip gently. When you finish, he wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whisper, like a hushed secret.

And he wants to, but also, there isn’t anything else to say that you don’t know already. You were there the first few times he had therapy, and when he felt comfortable enough to go alone, he told you all about it anyway right after.

If there’s a secret to fighting the Gojo Satoru with guaranteed victory, they’d only have to get to you—he’d be gone, entirely. You know too much of him, own too many parts of him already.

He chuckles dryly, vibrating by your neck. A step back and he’s leaning against the counter, bringing you closer by the hip, thumb stroking. He tucks away strands of your hair behind your ear, flattening down the bird’s nest that it is from your sleep.

“Nothing you haven’t heard before, pretty.”

Gojo’s been more tender lately, especially in the night when his piercing eyes turn soft, gazing.

You pout, the same one since you were 16. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it, the way he calls you such sweet, honeyed things; you’ve only recently begun to call him ‘baby’ and that alone has been enough to make your head spin.

Still, he wouldn’t be your Satoru if he didn’t surprise you. With how he is now, it’s hard to imagine a time when this was all so difficult for him, when even the slightest bit of your hands touching was challenging.

It’s hard to imagine that both of you are here now, living in the same space, by the kitchen at night, with the contents of your hearts memorized—the sorrow, the pain, the joy, all the love, every single one.

He kisses your nose, and that’s comfort alone.

This is his reality now, with you, and it’s safe.

It’s good.

“Do you want to make waffles?” he hears you mumble, running your hands over his chest, soothing.

The clock reads 3:56 a.m. Early breakfast doesn’t sound so bad, could also be a midnight snack.

(But he knows what you’re doing).

You don’t tell him to try to go back to sleep, never forcing anything you know he can’t do. Instead, you offer yourself to stay up with him, keep him company. Whatever he needs.

(And he loves that about you).

Gojo will forever argue that you might have fallen first, but he’s definitely fallen harder.

He could map out every single location he’s laid his love on—your eyes, the flutter of your eyelashes, the curve of your nose, and your lips, the same ones he’s kissed and nipped, bitten until he gets his fill.

Your neck and chest—a canvas for his desires. He glides a finger across your collarbone before lightly tapping on it thrice.

There’s the little dip at the base of your spine, and your thighs—

Oh, he could get lost in them.

He knows.

He has. Many times.

There’s an animal inside of him that only answers to you.

When you kiss his neck and grip his back, soft moans by his ear—short and sweet. He’s a gone man, wholly devoted to you, and you only.

You breathe his name out, “Satoru,” raspily, and he sinks into you—everything, all that he has spilling in the depths of you.

How can he possibly contain all this love?

It’s scary how so much of him already belongs to you, all these years—how you’ve been carrying pieces of him, all versions of him throughout every birthday, every moment you’ve touched his life and have it irrevocably changed.

“Are you happy?” he mumbles by your ear, voice deep and lazy.

It’s the morning, sunlight barely peeking through your curtains. Gojo hugs you from behind, arms caging you as he traces little hearts on your sides.

“Right now?” you whisper back, chuckling, “That’s not fair.”

He nips at your ear, a small bite, before you turn to face him.

He supposes you’re right, it isn’t fair to ask that now; both your bodies are sore, well-exhausted, and littered with conversations on love.

Gojo is pretty in the mornings just like he is all the time, his hair lending well to sunlight as much as it does to the moonlight. And his eyes—they shine a different shade during the day compared to the night.

You though, you’re an entirely different creature of your own: a goddess in bedsheets and pillows, wrapped in immaculate white.

You giggle when you face him, nose-to-nose, and he pulls you in tighter, grips you by the butt to slot you in right where you belong.

Are you happy with me?

He wonders, and you can read it—his eyes his greatest tell. You kiss him tenderly, lips moving gently against his. Then you smile, sincerely, before whispering—

“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

this is a re-upload! (because i accidentally deleted the original one!) thank you notes: to @stellamancer for being there since the very start!! col wouldn’t even exist without you!! you’re every much part of the creation of this as i am :'), to @crysugu for being so ever supportive, cheering me on all the time!! and for loving col reader as much as i do!! and to you reading this and everyone else who has loved this collection so far!! of course!! a credit to all the writers whose works have inspired the way i view and write gojo: to @seravphs for teen dad!gojo and cruel summer influences, i draw so much of the way i understand these characters and their dynamics from you and your beautiful way of writing them and i hope my interpretation gives justice to that!!, to @augustinewrites for keeping up with the fushigojos, this series and the way you write them, with so much love, has always pushed for me to view gojo that way!! you’ve inspired so much of my understanding that gojo does believe in love and that when he falls in it, he falls in it hard!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #satoru #shotorus.writes #col #algorithm pls love me

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ceilidho · 6 months

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‘John price with a single mother this’ ‘Simon Riley with a single mother that’

Yeah yeah keep yapping. Now ME? I think we’re seriously undervaluing the sheer perfection that is Johnny fucking MacTavish with a single mother. He’s insufferable. If there’s an opportunity to worm his way into your life permanently, he’s taking it. My brains fixated on newly moved in neighbour reader and Johnny just comes back from being deployed and there’s this pretty woman next door and woah! bonus points! She has a baby!

He’s bouncing off the walls. He’s sick. Almost first thing he does after seeing you come in and out the flats alone a few times is ask if your lad is around. Has to try so hard to pretend to be sympathetic when you say he did a runner when he found you you were pregnant.

He’s actually spectacular with babies. Makes a point of it whenever he sees you with the kid too; always makes her chuckle, goes out of his way to prove that he’s great with kids. Works his way into it, builds a rapport so when you’re called into work for an emergency you just can’t miss the first person you go to for babysitting is Johnny. When you get back, he’s ‘asleep’ on the couch with the baby on his chest and you just don’t have it in you to wake him so you just sit on the other end of the couch and wait. When he does ‘wake up’ it’s a bit late to be kicking him out so you just offer to let him stay night (this becomes a reoccurring theme).

Starts referring to the you and baby as ‘the bairn’ and ‘his lass’ long before he even asks you out. Asked out for drinks? No, sorry. He’s got to go home to his lass and the bairn. Is he busy this weekend? Yeah he’s taking his lass and the bairn to the amusements. Frequently confuses work colleagues and friends alike because when did Johnny have time to A. Get a girl and B. Shag her enough to knock her up???? Will NOT correct anyone who calls him your husband or the baby’s dad, and will actually get upset if you do.

The moment you agree to go out with him he’s micromoving you into his flat (he’s already looking for houses). Has pictures of you and the baby up on his wall in less than an hour of you being his girlfriend. The ‘spare’ crib is already assembled. He’s already picked a ring. He’s insane. He’s in love. He’s known you for like three months. He’s already got the next like two pregnancies planned out (he wants a big family. No he hasn’t asked you yet). Actually kind of deludes himself into forgetting the baby isn’t his biological child. Wdym it’s not his kid it looks exactly like him??? I think he would actually get a little violent if the baby’s father randomly popped up demanding visitation out of the blue. Said baby’s father is not heard from again.

Anyways I’m insane and in love with Johnny MacTavish and his silly deranged ways send tweet

i want you to know that i woke up to get some water in the middle of the night and happened to check my phone and see this and i had to physically hold myself back from answering it at like. 3am.

first of all, i love you. second of all? i love this. i have been repeating "his lass and the bairn" in my head for like five hours now. johnny deluding himself into thinking the baby is actually his? that little gasp you heard was the last little bit of air in my lungs escaping before i expired and died.

there's no way he wouldn't end up saying something batshit crazy like "look at his wee little nose - just like his daddy's huh?" and you'd just be frozen staring at the two of them. maybe your baby's nose does look a little like johnny's but - that doesn't mean - is he just joking or -?

#john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x you #soap x reader #soap/reader #the way im actually tagging this so i don't lose it

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suguann · 15 days

Text

an. a little 'and-they-were-roommates' drabble series to get me back into writing because it's been an age. | masterlist | part two

It starts as a situation built off convenience: he needed someone to take care of his place while he was gone, and you needed a place to stay.

Simon never thought he’d get anything out of it other than coming home to a house that feels lived-in and the entryway clear of envelopes from months of neglecting his mail—another voice throughout the day besides the intrusive ones in his head that spun like a carousel with the word work etched on top.

It’s not until you show up on his doorstep, three boxes and a measly duffel bag crowding your arms, that he thinks he really should’ve thought this through better. He’ll only realize this after the fact—weeks late, sleepless nights filled with images of daisy-shaped buttons down the front of a summer dress and a smile that nearly knocks him flat off his feet.

As it is, he’ll blame it on the handful of sleepless hours from tiny airplane seats and energy drinks sleuthing through his system that clouded his judgment, then admit it’s nice coming home to a woman who looks pretty reading a book on his living room couch.

Only his soap-slick fist in his bathroom late at night will know the honest-to-God truth. That is if there was ever a god he believed in.

He never claimed to be a good man.

(Can anyone claim to be good in his line of work?)

Just an honest one.

So it goes something like this: he tries not to come off as an obsessed, lonely fuck (the jury is out on either) by just existing in the same space as you whenever the opportunity arises—reading the paper while you make breakfast on the stove he hasn’t touched in too long to remember when, flipping through a book Simon didn’t even know he owned while you water plants you picked up on your way from work, watching whatever you have on the telly before you both go to bed—then he’s on a plane, being shipped out to who knows where with a gun holstered to his hip.

Rinse and repeat.

The fourth time he comes home after an assignment keeps him away longer than expected, he finds you in the kitchen, covered in flour, a cute, frilly apron tied around your waist that he’s never seen you wear before. A smile curls the edges of your mouth as you look over at him, everything in your face soft and attentive—a vision suddenly takes shape.

You with a ring on your finger, Simon calling you his little wife, getting to hold your hand whenever he feels like it, and not because yours accidentally brushed up against his. His hand fisting in your hair, bending you over the counter, your cheek covered in powdery confectionery, fingers rucking up your skirt and apron because he can.

He blinks once, twice, and the little fantasy falls apart.

Except you’re still in his kitchen, smiling prettily and happy to see him of all things. Imagine that.

Your lashes flutter, making crescent shadows across your cheeks. “How was your trip?” you ask. “You look more tired than you usually do.”

A shrug, a dismissal. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I have some tea that might help.”

“Tea.” He repeats to fill the quiet if only to stand there a little longer, his bag still slung over his shoulder and his clothes smelling like recycled air.

“Yeah, I got it from a friend a few weeks ago when I caught this cold that was going around the office.” Sometimes, you ramble, and he can do nothing more than let you get it out of your system—not that he minds. “I swear it’s nothing janky or anything. Just try it; it might help.”

You’re so damn earnest about it that he can’t bring himself to say no.

“Sure,” he says and watches a wide, satisfied smile stretch across your face.

It’d be easier if you weren’t so sweet and gave a sincere fuck about the comings and goings of his life. If the smell of your perfume wasn’t following Simon everywhere—sugary vanilla faintly clinging to his balaclava even after he’s washed it—as a reminder of what’s just out of his reach.

(A mindfuck is what it is.)

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost smut #ghost x you #cod smut #cod x reader #cod fic #cod imagine #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #mw2 imagine #.things i write

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girlboypersonthingy · 2 months

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Hiiii I wanted to request hazbin boys x injured male reader? Reader gets into a scuffle, gets roughed up quite a bit and comes home not looking too well (I wanna see em fuss over the reader lol)

Mmph, yes yes, I love boys fussing over their injured darling. Too fuckin cute! I have so many great requests for Hazbin and Helluva, I’m so excited 🫨 thanks for the request and enjoy anon 💟

Notes: gn!reader bc anyone can get into a scuffle so why not, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst

TW: blood, bruises, fighting, cussing, of course it’s suggestive during Angel’s part 😉

Includes Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and Alastor

Hazbin boys x reader- Bruises 🖤

You’re not sure who roughed you up, you barely got a look at the dudes before you were laid out on the dirty sidewalk getting punched and trying to push one of the perpetrators off you. Whoever he was, he was strong and brutal and must’ve really had a problem with you because damn, you were fucked up. Not that you couldn’t hold your own, but there was more than one of them and they really caught you off guard. You had suffered several blows to the face and a few kicks to the stomach and back. Seemed like the group showed just a bit of mercy tho- they could’ve broken your legs or straight up killed you. Luckily, you limped away with only minor injuries but a huge blow to your psyche. While it could’ve been worse, it was horrific and traumatizing regardless.

It’s hard trying to stay tough and take care of yourself because you’re scared, feeling like you’ll have to look over your shoulder from now on when you’re out on the streets. It was also a bit embarrassing considering Husk and Angel offered to tag along with you to keep you safe but your dumb ass insisted you were fine alone.

It was late now, around the time everyone went to bed at the hotel so you were expecting to silently creep inside, hobble to your room and take care of yourself in secret. And if anyone asked about the marks or bruises the next day, you’d just blame it on a wild night of partying. To your surprise, as you walk in the door the entirety of the hotel’s staff and residents were sitting on the floor and couches in the front room, drinking and talking by the fireplace. Of course, Charlie had everyone doing some bonding bullshit late at night. The sound of the door clicking open has everyone’s eyes looking towards you now. “Ah, shit…” Leaves your swollen lips as the crowd gasps and one by one, they all stand and approach your damaged figure. Finally, the one person you really didn’t want to see you like this comes rushing forward to get a good look at you.

Lucifer 🍎

“Oh, Satan! (Y/N), are you okay? What happened? Ohhh, my poor angel!”

Proceeds to fuss and worry over you while wearing the saddest expression :,( his poor bb

Might actually cry a little…just hurts him to see his darling all banged up.

It’s not just the physical pain he senses, it’s the emotional pain you feel too- the fear and the trauma and the stress of it all

His hands just hover all around the most damaged parts of you- fingers almost touching your eye which was now swollen shut, his thumb ghosting over your busted bottom lip

Whisks you away to his room and runs you a bath. Gets you all clean and is probably still whining and crying over you as he watches the bath water turn red with all the blood washing off you and gets you ready for bed.

He’s an emotional man, okay?

He also feels extremely guilty for not being there to protect you. Even if you bluntly told him you don’t need his protection, he feels like it’s still his fault at least a little bit.

Miiiiiiight start a silly little argument over you never leaving the hotel or his side ever again lol

“I just want to protect you, my love. Please! Stop being stubborn.”

He’ll really really baby you tho.

Like even if your legs are working fine, NOPE! Don’t move an inch. Luci will carry you anywhere you desire.

“Lucifer, I just have a black eye and some scrapes. I can walk just fine, babe.”

And he’ll just ignore you and continue to coddle you and do everything for you

For sure this man peppers very gentle, very soft and slow kisses on your tender face once you’re cleaned up and finally resting in his bed

And he for sure cries again in the morning when he wakes up and your face looks even worse

Probably even panics a bit like-

“IM TAKING YOU TO A HOSPITAL OH MY SATAN!!! MY POOR BABY WWAAAA!”

“It’s just some bruises! Luci, they always look worse before they look better, I’m fine.”

Just calm him down with some kisses and words of love

Angel Dust 🕸️

“Holy shit! What happened, babe? Oh no…this is bad. This is sooo bad! This is why we wanted to go with ya.”

Also gets very dramatic and concerned, looks so sad over your battle wounds

But of course he’s a flirt even under tough circumstances and can make a dirty joke even in the most dire situations

He’d definitely tell you you look hot asf and that you’re soooo brave~

Tries to lighten the mood a bit

“(Y/N), I wanna be the only one who gets to rough you up.” *pouts but also winks at you*

Angel has had his fair share of beatings courtesy of Valentino so he’s very good at first aid and knows tons of tricks to help with bruising, cuts, scrapes, preventing scars, relieving the pain.

He’s great at the clean up part but even better at the comfort part

Brings out all six arms to wrap you up in while you lay in his bed, cuddling up to you while offering soft kisses to the parts of you that aren’t so sore.

Angel is always down to fuck so if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll offer you some great sexual healing while being oh so careful of all your wounds and all the painful spots.

Will let you take control too, he hopes it’ll make you feel better and maybe return some of the confidence you lost from this scuffle.

He can spot a bruised ego from a mile away and he’ll do anything to get you feeling happy and secure again.

Also argues with you about never letting you go anywhere alone ever again lol he just loves you too much. If you’re gonna get jumped, he’s either gonna be there to help you out of it or he’s gonna be taking half the beating right next to you.

Reminds me of a song…

“I wanna walk with you, wherever you go to. I wanna hurt with you. Whatever you go through, I do too.” -sour switchblade by Elita

Yeah that’s Angel, just wants to be beside you no matter the circumstances

Husk 🃏

“Oh, you dummy! This is why we wanted to go with you. Oh, doll face. Who did this? You alright?”

Yeah, he’s mean sometimes so he’s gonna scold you for going out alone before the comforting starts.

Ultimately, he doesn’t pull you away to get you cleaned up or anything. Lets you decide what to do next, where to go. He just follows you and keeps a hand on you somewhere to let you know he’s here for you.

Will whip up any drink you ask for in hopes of it relieving the pain a bit

But he’s sneaky, he’s gonna ask you tons of questions about what happened, who did it, where you were, how many of them there was. Won’t give you your drink until you answer him.

Husk is plottin and schemin, wanting to get back at the assholes who did this to you. Hes thinking about all the cool, little weapons he has and what he can do with them to teach those jerks a lesson.

In the end tho, he does get more sentimental and soft spoken later while cuddled up to you in bed.

He’ll purr softly in your ear while letting his hands gently roam your body, tracing comforting circles all over your bruised skin

Will def wrap you up in his silky wings and then proceed to pour out his entire heart to you.

“I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay. You need to listen to me. I know better than you, I’ve been down here a long time. You have to be more careful. I dunno what I’d do if I lost ya, doll. You gotta stick with me, I’ll always protect ya.”

Once you fall asleep, he wanders out to the lobby to find Angel at the bar and there they talk about teaming up to get revenge on the assholes who dared to touch Husk’s little babe

The next morning, of course they’re still talking about it. You’ll have to tell these idiots to stop and just let it go bc omg they sound crazy rn they’re gonna make a mess if you let this continue

Buuuut if you kinda like them fussing over you this much, then by all means let them do their thing as you sit back and enjoy the attention

Ooooh, Husky is getting maadddd. Kinda cute when he lets a protective growl slip out while talking to Angel. Aww he loves you~

Sir Pentious 🐍

Immediate tears and full blown panic attack at the sight of your battered face.

“OH MY GOODNESSSSSS!!! My baby! My darling! Ohhhhhh, you poor thing, come here! I’ll take care of you.”

Doesn’t care that the entirety of the hotel residents are crowded around watching you two- Pentious holds you like a baby in his arms and carefully sinks to the ground with you, holding you so tight it actually kinda hurts due to all your bruises.

Cries for a while like this- goes back and forth between examining your bruises and cuts and bloody nose with his watery eyes to then burying his face in your neck as he weeps for you.

“Pen, I’m okay. Just a little banged up. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I CAN’T HANDLE IT!!! You’re too pretty to be beaten up like thisssss. Aawwwww.” And he’s crying even harder now.

And this goes on for a while until you finally decide to get up and go to your room with him to get cleaned up.

Babies the absolute fuck out of you- brings you food in bed and tries to feed it to you, gets you in the bath and refuses to let you touch anything while insisting he do all the work for you, carries you everywhere.

It’s actually so nice tho- he washes your hair for you real slow and firm as he scrubs your scalp, very carefully washes the dirt and dry blood from your skin only to reveal more bruises he hadn’t seen before, carefully applies ointment to your bloody cuts and scrapes

Listen…this man is not gonna stop crying until you are 100% healed up. Even the next morning, you wake up beside him to see his face wet with tears as he sniffles.

At least you know he really truly deeply cares for you and loves you 💚

“Oh, it’s okay, babe. I’m felling so much better today, especially since I get to start my morning in bed with you.”

And now he decides he’s gonna keep you in bed all day and continue to baby and pamper you

Keeps his tail and most of his body wrapped around you loosely all day as you watch movies and relax. Cant stop staring at your face and focusing on each blue and black bruise you wear, eyeing every cut and scrape and the split skin on your lip.

You took a beating and he thinks it’s only fair that you and him stay in bed until you’re truly feeling well enough to resume your normal daily tasks.

Of course, he has to stay with you in case you need something! Can’t leave his injured partner alone, wouldn’t dream of it!

Vox 🖥️

(I know he’s not at the hotel, pretend you just walked into V Tower instead, k?)

REVENGE REVENGE REVENGE

“WHAT. THE. FUCK?! Who? Where? When? HOW FUCKING HOW DARE THEY-“

You’ll have to cut him off or he’ll go on an entire raging tangent about revenge and eventually short circuit lol

“Voxy, I’m okay. Don’t worry about it. I just wanna get clean and go to bed.”

He slowly cools off and begins to focus more on you and your injuries, asking if you’re okay or if there’s anything he can do. Now behind closed doors, his entire attitude changes.

He’s following you into every room, watching you with an expression of intense sadness and concern, wishing he could take all your pain and give it to himself instead. He’d suffer for you if it meant seeing you happy and healthy

Sits in the bathroom in silence but keeps you company while you wash up. He might ask if you need help but also wants to give you space and make sure you feel safe

Assists you in getting dressed while making it very romantic and being very attentive. Vox will so slowly slip your pajamas onto you while letting his claws ghost over all your bruises.

Will lean in and kiss your busted lips right as your head pops through the top of your shirt, followed by a smile and probably more kisses

Listen, most of these boys are gonna become way more over protective after this incident okay? Vox is most definitely not an exception

Insists that either He’s gonna be with you every where you go from now on or he’s gonna send security with you every where you go from now on.

And no matter who is with you when you’re out in the streets, his cameras will also be watching over you.

Oh yeah, and he goes back in the cam footage and has a perfect view of the whole incident. He watches it over a few times before ordering a hit on every sinner who dared to mess with his lover.

You’ll never have to worry or look over your shoulder or worry again 😘

Alastor 🩸

Doesn’t say much or even stay long to worry about you at first.

He’s more angry and bent on revenge than anything. He’s worried about you too but he knows you’re strong and can take care of yourself.

He slips off to do some exploring and investigating to find out who did this to you

Spends maybe an hour figuring it out and then promptly goes on a murder spree to take care of all those pesky sinners who dared to lay a finger on his beloved

Okay, now that that’s out of his system, he can come back and take care of you.

Isn’t as cuddly and romantic as the others but he still babies you and refuses to let you do anything for yourself.

“Now now, darling. Just relax. I’ll have you cleaned up and feeling better in no time.”

Bathes you, dresses you, tucks you into bed all while humming slow tunes to you

Doesn’t cuddle you but sits on the bed beside you and gives your head some gentle pets

“You won’t have to worry any longer, my dove. I took care of those degenerates and I’ll never let you wander the streets of hell alone ever again.”

Will place a gentle kiss on your throbbing head before leaving you to rest.

He’s serious tho, anywhere you go he goes too. You’re never leaving his sight again ❤️‍🩹

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clockwayswrites · 5 months

Text

Not So Imaginary

Parts 1-3 Parts 4-6 (posted part 6 last night in case you missed it) cw: medical care, references to Ethiopia, references to experimentation

It said a lot about the way that things had been going for Jason lately that even half conscious he recognized the low machine hum and carefully filtered air of a Watchtower Medical room. The familiarity of the space helped gloss over any panic about his missing memories of how he ended up back in medical again as awareness came back to body. Leg and an arm still broken, ribs still cracked, just about everything else sprained; he couldn’t have been out that long. He flexed his good (better) fingers around the hand that held his.

“B?”

His mouth tasted stale in a way that made his face scrunch up in a grimace.

“Just me, ‘wing. B is doing research, but he was here till about an hour ago,” Dick said.

Jason gave a long hum instead of trying to talk again, at least not until Dick had let him have some water. The straw was pulled away a lot sooner than he was happy about, but at least some of the stale taste was gone.

“What happened?”

“According to Raven, you’re, um, no so imaginary friend absorbed some of your life force.” Dick’s hand tightened almost painfully around Jason’s fingers for a moment. “You’ve been out for about a day and a half now.”

“Mmm… must have needed it then. Must’a been hurt,” Jason mumbled around a wide yawn.

“Jay.”

“Names, Dickwing,” Jason said just to be an ass. “’Sides, little sleep never hurt.”

“A little— you were basically in a coma!”

Jason yawned again and finally peeled open an eyelid. “’M fine. How’d they even do it?”

Dick tilted his head. “What?”

“The whole…” Jason gave a little wave of his and Dick’s hands. “Vampire schtick.”

“They didn’t drink your blood!” Dick actually looked a little horrified at the thought.

“Just my life force, yeah, sure, but how?”

Dick huffed and leaned back in his chair. “Raven says you have a soul bond or something with this— with your friend. It’s how you knew they were in danger.”

“Me too.”

“What?”

“How they knew I was in danger too. I’m okay, big bird, just… little worn out. I’ll be okay. They saved me and I saved them, ‘s what we do,” Jason said. He felt his words were a little weakened by the need to close his eyes again, but he was really tired. “Don’t be mad at them. They’re why ‘m alive. Jus… jus’ needed my help to be okay too.”

“Yeah, okay little wing, you have a point.” Fingers carded carefully through Jason’s hair and he gave a pleased hum. “You just get some more rest. I’ll let the B man know you woke up. It’s all going to be okay.”

Of course it was, they had found his friend.

He’d just get a little more rest and then he’d go see them.

Just a bit more.

---

AN: Apparently once I started writing my brain wanted to do more of this! This was supposed to just be a little poll fill, you know. Now it's over 5k. And so it goes! But Jason and Danny are closer to meeting properly!

Stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #dead on main #not so imaginary

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kamiversee · 3 months

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 27 || The Sweet Moments (PT. 2)

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, a tinge of angst, & lots of fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.7k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AFTER THE EVENTS OF WHAT took place in Toji's car, he gave you the option of either sleeping in the guest bedroom of his home or his bedroom. You chose the first option and he was sure to warn you that his son would probably return home sometime that morning so you'd have to stay hidden in there during that time.

You agreed to that and when you got into his home, Toji had given you a spare shirt of his to sleep in. The night went on perfectly fine and he even gave you medicine for your throat before he went to bed, something you gratefully took since you could feel the slight upcoming scratch in your esophagus.

The following morning, you woke up to dim sunlight resting upon the side of your face, making you groan a little before you turned over. You could hear talking coming from somewhere outside the bedroom you lay in.

There were two voices, one obviously Toji's and the other sounding like a smaller and younger person. After laying there for a few minutes trying to listen and wake yourself up at the same time, you eventually got up and decided to be nosy.

The talking you heard slowly transformed into bickering as you neared the shut bedroom door, pressing your ear against it lightly and listening in on the conversation taking place down the hall and in the nearby kitchen.

"Please no," A child's voice was heard.

The sound of a scoff hit your ears, "What do you mean please no??" Toji replied, "I make the best sandwiches..."

"Dad, every grilled cheese you've ever made has been burnt." His son replied, "And every time you make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich... you put like three pounds of peanut butter on it."

"You said you liked peanut butter," Toji argued back with a shrug.

"Not that much." The child grumbled, "And even the regular sandwiches you make always have too much of something..."

Toji frowned, "No one told you to be so damn picky... If you want it done right maybe you should come in here and do it your damn self."

You can hear the kid laugh at his father with footsteps following behind the sound. The footsteps get closer to the bedroom you're in and you hear his voice just outside it, "You're the one who keeps trying to make them in the first place. I never asked you to."

"Then why do you keep eatin' them?" Toji shouts to the boy as he furthers away from him.

"I gotta' eat something... even if it tastes like shit..." You hear the child curse, just under his breath as he passes your door.

Toji raises a brow, "I know I didn't just hear you curse."

"Can you even hear anything, old man...?" His kid fires back, the sound of his footsteps heard entering a room just down the hall from you-- most likely his bedroom.

"Oi, don't make me come back there!" Toji shouts.

"And do what?" The boy mutters sassily, "Force me to eat another dry chicken sandwich with no water like you did last week?"

There's a second of silence and you try not to laugh at their bickering. Toji sounds a bit annoyed now, "You said you didn't want anything to drink.."

"I wasn't expecting to choke on fourteen pounds of chicken and two slices of bread that were the same size as my laptop..." The kid explains overdramatically.

Toji scoffs, "Whatever, hurry up and get ready before you're late."

"Like you'd care..." You hear the kid say very quietly to himself.

"What was that?" Toji calls out.

There's a moment of quietness and you hear his kid playfully respond, "I knew you were going deaf." He says before shutting his bedroom door.

You move to open yours at the sound and peek out, seeing that it is in fact the child's bedroom that he just disappeared into. Toji scoffs within his kitchen and you take a moment to slip out of the bedroom you're in and join him there.

When he spots you emerging from around the corner, he raises a brow. For starters, he's wearing a t-shirt that hugs his torso, revealing that insane physique of his. You gawk at it slightly as you make your way over to him, walking around the counter and approaching his side to see what he's doing.

"Sounds like you need help out here," You whisper to him teasingly.

Toji smiles slightly at your words, realizing that you've heard just about everything. "Kid doesn't like anything I make."

You tilt your head as you stare at the sandwich he's currently making. It looks like it's supposed to be peanut butter and jelly but it's definitely coming out as more jelly with a hint of peanut butter. A hand comes up over your mouth as you try not to laugh at it.

Toji looks to his side and down at you with a frown, "I know you're not laughing right now."

"Mr. Fushiguro..." You snicker, "He's never gonna like anything you make if you do it like that."

"How the hell am I supposed to do it then?" Toji grumbles.

Both of your voices are quiet enough so that his kid couldn't hear anything.

"Watch and learn," You hum before moving to make the sandwich in a way you think anyone would enjoy.

Toji moves to the side a bit as you create an entirely new sandwich, leaving the one he was working on idle. He watches as you spread peanut butter across two slices of bread and then put an even amount of jelly in the middle, bringing the two slices of bread together and then cutting it in half diagonally.

"Aaand done," You say cheerfully, turning to look at the man beside you to see his eyes wide. You chuckle, "What?"

Toji blinks, "He's not gonna eat that."

"Wanna bet?"

"Sure," Toji replies confidently, moving to finish the sandwich he'd been making previously, "He's gonna hate both of them. Kid' hates everything."

"I'm not sure that's true," You hum, watching as Toji proceeds to make his version of the sandwich.

"You'll see." He replies, "Now, go back in the room before he comes out here."

You sigh, "Fiiine." Then, as you walk away, you turn back with a curious brow raised, "What's his name?"

Toji shrugs, "Don't remember."

You blink, spotting a world's best dad mug on the nearby counter, "You're joking right...?"

Toji chuckles and looks up and at you, "His name's Megumi."

You nod and smile before dipping back around the corner and into the room you'd previously been in. You make sure to quietly shut the door behind you and then patiently wait to hear Megumi emerge from his room.

After about five more minutes, you hear his door open and footsteps rush past the room you're in. Megumi is heard in the kitchen taking a seat at one of the barstools.

"Here," Toji sighs, "Try these two before you go and tell me which one is better."

Megumi's face scrunches up, "If you made them, then they both probably taste like shi-"

"Just eat the damn sandwich." Toji cuts him off, frowning at his son in an annoyed manner.

With a roll of his eyes, Megumi goes for the one Toji made first, taking a single bite and dramatically making a disgusted face in reaction. "Daaad, there's like two whole jars of jelly on thiiiiis," He whines.

Toji's expression remains blank, "Yeah yeah, now eat the other one."

"I'm scared..." Megumi mumbles with a pout as he moves for the second sandwich. Toji leans over the counter and watches his son take one bite and then raise his brows. "You made this?" Megumi questions.

"Yep," Toji lies, now frowning at the fact that there's a noticeable difference in his son's reaction to his sandwich versus yours.

"Bullshi-"

"Megumi if you curse one more time, I'm throwin' you out that window over there," Toji cuts off sarcastically.

Megumi sighs, nearly chuckling at his father's dramatic threat, "But you curse all the time."

"I'm a grown-ass man."

"See?" The kid scoffs before moving out of his seat and grabbing the second sandwich he tasted. He then moves to shove the rest of it into a ziplock bag and then drops it into his bookbag, leaving the sandwich his father made on the counter. "Anyways, thanks for not making this one too bad."

"Oh, so you like the sandwiches like that?" Toji asks.

"Yeah, it's even. Not too much peanut butter or jelly. Make all of them like that please." Megumi requests as he moves to grab his shoes.

Toji watches his son near the front door of their home, "I'll try."

His kid nods his head in response before opening the door and making sure his bookbag is on properly, "Thanks. Bye Dad."

"Mhm, cya." Toji hums in response while moving to clean the mess made in the kitchen.

You hear the front door shut and then wait a few minutes before emerging from the bedroom yet again. When you get to the kitchen, you notice the sandwich you made is completely gone and Toji's is still sitting in the same place. Then, you see the older man straightening his kitchen up.

"What was that you said about him hating both sandwiches?" You ask tauntingly as you cross your arms.

Toji sends you a look, "Shut up."

You chuckle, "He seems like a good kid," You say to change the subject.

"He's alright," Toji grumbles while snatching up his abandoned sandwich from the counter. "If he keeps fuckin' with me I'm gonna sell him," He says sarcastically.

Your eyes go wide, "Sell him?!"

He shrugs, "He'd go for a lot of money too, I bet."

"Mr. Fushiguro that's your son." You say, emphasizing your words.

Toji starts laughing, "I know, I know. I just kiddin'."

"Uhuh..." You hum, nodding and smiling at him.

You end up helping him straighten up his kitchen a bit and afterward, he offers to drive you home. You didn't want to run the possibility of Shoko or anyone else you know seeing Toji drop you off so instead, you told him you'd call a friend to come get you.

With a shrug, Toji said okay and then he went off to prepare himself for his day. You ended up putting your dress back on and leaving the shirt he gave you neatly folded up on the bed you slept on.

After which, you give Toji one last bye before heading outside. It was decently early in the morning and the chilly fall breeze was brushing up against your exposed skin as you walked down the street a bit. You didn't want to call your 'friend' (Gojo) to come pick you up from right outside Toji's house so you made sure to distance yourself a bit.

Luckily for you, there was a bench just down the street that you found yourself sitting at. The phone call you made to Gojo was relatively short and how quickly he got to where you were surprised you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"Did you fuck Mr. Fushiguro again?" Was Gojo's first question to you as soon as you got into his car and buckled yourself in.

You release a sigh before responding. "Yep. That's another six thousand if I'm not mistaken," You claim, turning your head to look at him with an innocent little smile on your face.

He blinks, "You're lucky I love you, y'know that right?"

There's a pulse felt within your heart. Just when is he going to stop saying that? "Am I?" You ask.

Gojo scoffs, "Yeah, do you even know how much money I've given you so far?"

You shrug casually, "Am I supposed to be keeping track?"

"I mean you don't have to but I'm surprised you don't," Gojo hums, smiling a little, "You're like a spoiled princess now..."

"I'm not sure princesses get paid to fuck hot guys," You utter before looking away from him and his stupid smile that makes your heart rate increase. "And wait, how did you know I slept with Mr. Fushiguro again?"

"Uhm, he lives down this street. I babysat his kid and I know where they live, remember?" Gojo explains.

"Oh... Wait, speaking of that... Satoru," You turn your head to him and you see light pink decorating his cheeks at the mere sound of his first name leaving your lips. He looks like an idiot in love and you think you hate every second of it, "What do you owe everyone on the list? Why are you in debt?"

His eyes widen and Gojo swallows hard, quickly snatching his gaze off of you and moving his hands to the steering wheel in front of him so that he can start driving. "Does it matter?" He asks you, his brows furrowing.

"I mean, I'm just curious." You say flatly, "How do you even come up with the gift of a whore being your form of payment? And again, what do you owe-"

"Did you just call yourself a whore?" Gojo cuts off.

"Yeah, it's not the first time-"

"Stop that." He says, making a left down the next street, "You're not just some whore, okay?"

"Ohhh so I'm a special whore? Got it." You utter sarcastically.

"I'm serious, don't call yourself a whore. That's not what you are." He says sternly.

"Fine, a slut then." You argue, shrugging a little, "Either way, I'm still spreading my legs for a bunch of guys."

"First off, sluts don't get paid to sleep around, you do." Gojo clarifies, "Secondly, I'm forcing you to do these things so in a sense, you're not a whore."

"But... I am." You argue anyway, "That's what you're using me for so that's what I've become."

"You don't have to claim that, it's degrading your character."

You scoff, "And since when do you care about me degrading my character, Satoru? It's the fucking truth. I fuck people and get paid, know what that means?" You utter sarcastically and slightly bothered, "I'm a whore."

Gojo slams on the brakes and stops the car at a stop sign, turning to you with anger written all over his face, "You're not a whore! Stop fucking saying that." He shouts.

That was his first time ever yelling at you.

A moment of silence fills the air followed by his harsh tone. Hell, you don't even think you've ever seen Gojo so upset over something before. It was weird to see him like this. All the aggravation in his tone and in his expression over a word that's been loosely used plenty of times before?

Your eyes narrow at him, in no world would you let Gojo yell at you and just sit there and take it. "The hell are you so upset for? You've called me a whore yourself-"

"No, I haven't." He interrupts, "Never in my life have I referred to you as a whore."

Your face scrunches up, "Uhm, yes you have? After the first time I slept with Mr. Fushiguro and you saw Choso had taken me home, you called me a whore because you thought I slept with three guys in one day." You recall flawlessly.

Not flawlessly enough though, "No, sweetheart. I asked if you were becoming a whore. I implied it but I never flat-out called you that shit."

"Implying it is practically calling me it, dumbass."

"It's not. If I imply the fact that someone's a bitch, does that make them a bitch?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Exactly. And when I asked if you were becoming a whore it was because I was pissed, not that my emotions make up for it but still." Gojo rambles. He's so passionately aggressive about this topic for some odd reason, "Plus, I don't know if you forgot but I literally told you I never agreed on you becoming a whore."

"I didn't forget but did you forget what I responded to that with?" You ask, annoyed by this conversation. "I asked you if that's what I've been from the start."

"Okay, and-"

"And your response to me was maybe." You finish.

He nods his head and then smiles a bit, still appearing angered, "Then I said the list was different because it was supposed to be you fucking someone once and getting paid, not multiple times."

"Okay, well it's not me fucking someone once. Get over it and pay me like you promised to." You respond simply.

"You don't have to ever worry about me not paying you, sweets. That's not what this conversation was about to begin with." Gojo replies, "I just don't want you to think or feel like you're a whore because you're not."

"That's what I feel like though. I fuck then get paid." You say blatantly, shrugging. "I don't understand how else I'm supposed to feel."

"Lessen the number of times you fuck people and maybe you won't feel like that." He suggests.

That set's you off just right, an annoyed smirk pulling at your lips, "Well, sorry that last night Sukuna left me horny and I happened to run into Mr. Fushiguro at the right time." You say sarcastically.

Gojo opens his mouth to reply but he's cut off by you.

"Sorry that I wanted to have sex last night. Sorry that I got into your car and reminded you that you have to pay me for it because it's what you agreed on." You go off, "Oh, and sorry that these actions of mine all stem from you and this stupid fucking list!"

For a moment, Gojo's quiet. He simply stares at you, the car having yet to move since he stopped it. With perfect timing, a car pulls up behind the two of you. Gojo looks away from you and moves to park the car somewhere.

After that, he sighs and rests his head back, "So you're blaming this on me?"

"Who the fuck else am I supposed to blame?" You snap instantly, having not cooled off at all, "I didn't record myself and threaten me with it. I don't owe a whore to a bunch of people. And I didn't start this damn list."

"Right." He nods, "But you left your door wide open-"

"So that gave you the right to come in and record me?" You fire back.

Gojo scoffs, feeling pissed. "Told' you that was an accident."

"As if I fucking believe that."

"Okay well, you're still the one doing extra shit that has nothing to do with the list-"

"Y'know, I didn't hear you complain this much last week when I slept with you." You cut off, "Funny how you only find this much to bitch about when I'm fucking anyone that's not you more than once."

"First off, I'm not bitching about anything." Gojo clarifies. He's upset with you for the first time and it's unusual to see and experience, "I'm being serious with you right now. You complained about feeling like a whore even though I'm trying to tell you that's not what you are, then, your argument to that is the list? The things that are making you feel like a whore are the things you're bringing on yourself."

Your face scrunches up, "What-"

"I never told you to fuck Suguru more than once. Nobody told you that you had to fuck Mr. Fushiguro twice, and god knows how many times you and Choso had sex." Gojo expresses, "If you feel like a whore, that's not because of me-"

"I wouldn't have slept with any of those people in the first place if it wasn't for you." You remind him for what feels like the millionth time, "Did you forget that?"

"No, I know. But even though it's because of me, you wouldn't have felt like a whore if you only slept with them once like you were supposed to."

"Right," You smile and scoff, "Sure."

"And even if you did feel like one," Gojo slowly turns his head to look at you, his eyes dead serious, "I'd tell you a thousand times over again; you are not a whore."

"Well," You purse your lips together, "I'm turning into one and nothing you say will make me feel like I'm not-"

Gojo interrupts you by saying your name. You think your entire body freezes at the sound. It's always been sweetheart or sweets or love or any affectionate nickname. The last time you heard Gojo say your first name was the day the list started.

You try to continue anyway, "Like I-I'm not a-"

He utters your name yet again, those blue eyes of his drilling into the side of your face.

"N-No, let me finish," You say, your voice softening unintentionally, "There's nothing you can say to make me feel like I'm not a wh-"

First and last, your full name leaves his lips in a low tone.

You grit your teeth and finally shut up.

"Look at me," Gojo orders. You don't and he scoffs. Gojo tips his head to the side a bit and narrows his eyes, "Fucking look at me." He repeats, no malice heard in his tone.

With a roll of your eyes and a huff, you turn to him, "What?"

"You're not a whore." He says, his tone going completely soft, "If you want someone to demean like that, demean me, not yourself."

You blink, not knowing what to say to him anymore.

"But please," Gojo's gaze goes gentle, his face twisting up in sorrow, "Don't call yourself a whore."

"Satoru." You say, voice completely calm, "I-"

For one last time, Gojo cuts you off by voicing your name in a gentle tone. "You are not a whore." He whispers.

You swallow down whatever arguments you had to that. You have no idea what it was about his tone and the look in his eyes but suddenly, you felt that need to argue with him lifted.

"Okay," You whisper in response.

"Say it," Gojo instructs.

With another swallow, "I'm not a whore." You tell him.

A small smile spreads across his face, "Thank you." He utters.

It was weird. Is this the same man who blackmails you? He's whoring you out and yet doesn't want you to refer to yourself as such? Why? What's so significant about that word that you can't call yourself that?

"And uh," Gojo looks away from you, "I'm sorry for yelling at you..."

He mimics that of a sad puppy in a way. His look is almost... cute?

You decide to look away from him as well, "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" He asks timidly as if he regrets blowing up on you so suddenly.

You shrug, "Not really. I don't understand why the hell you got so mad in the first place..."

"I just..." Gojo trails off a little as he stares out the window in front of him, losing himself in thought for a minute. "I don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. That's why I said if you're looking for someone to demean, demean me. If you're angry or frustrated with your situation," He glances over to you, "Take it out on me."

You blink, "So you just want me to beat up on you whenever I'm mad?"

"If it'll stop you from calling yourself any degrading names then, yes." Gojo expresses to you.

"This is..." You hesitate on your next words but eventually glance at him and continue, "This is oddly sweet of you?"

His eyes meet yours for only a moment before he looks away, "I wish I could be sweet to you all the time."

"You're sweet when you say I love you..." You tell him honestly, quickly adding on an, "I guess..." So that you don't praise him too much.

Gojo perks up and looks over at you, "I am?"

You look in the opposite direction, "I think anyone would be but, yes, you are."

He smiles, "I l-"

"Don't." You cut off, already knowing he was about to utter those three words to you.

He chuckles, "Sorry."

"Anyways, uhm... Don't I have to meet Nanami tonight?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Gojo remembers, moving to comfort himself in his seat since he has no plans on driving until your conversation is completely over. He rests his head on the palm of his hand, holding himself up against the console in between you two. "So remember when I told you he goes to this bar every Friday night?"

"Mhm." You hum in response.

"Well, I did some more research on it and it's more of this fancy nightclub."

A little scoff leaves you and you glance at Gojo, "Nanami goes to a fancy nightclub every Friday night?"

"Okay, it's like seventy-five percent bar and twenty-five percent club." He explains further.

You narrow your eyes at him, "So what are you saying all this for...?"

"For starters, there's a dress code," Gojo says.

"Ohhh, so it's a fancy fancy nightclub." You reply playfully.

He smiles, "Yeah, you'll have to dress pretty classy to get in."

"Okay and if I had to guess," Your head turns to face him completely, "You already bought me a dress for this?"

"Fifteen different ones actually," Gojo corrects.

"F-Fifteen? How much did you spend?!"

He shrugs, "They weren't expensive..."

"The last dress you told me wasn't expensive was almost a thousand dollars..." You state blankly.

"Oh," His eyebrows raise, "Is that considered expensive?"

You scoff in surprise, "Seriously, where the fuck are you getting this money from?"

"Onlyfans," He says with a wink.

"Genuinely can't tell if you're joking or not right now..." You reply, smiling and yet shaking your head at him.

Gojo chuckles at your reaction, "I'm joking, don't worry."

"So where's the money come from?"

"Well, I am popular online and I get paid a lot from that I guess."

You raise a brow, "What exactly do you do online again...?"

"Uhhh..." He trails off, his eyes wandering away from yours.

You chuckle at the way he avoids your eyes, "...You post thirst traps, don't you?"

"N-No..." Gojo mumbles.

You begin to move for your phone, shrugging casually, "I'm gonna check."

Gojo's eyes snap back onto you and they go wide in worry, "Oh my god, please don't."

"Why are you so worried?" You laugh, "I thought you'd be all cocky about this kinda' thing."

He pouts, "Why would I be cocky about you seeing the content I put out..."

"I mean anything online is nothing I haven't seen before." You point out simply, knowing that no amount of thirst traps will compare to literally having sex with the man.

"I..." Gojo swallows hard, "Listen it's not the kind of thirst traps you're thinking of..."

You pause the movement of your fingers and look at him, raising a brow, "So, what, you're not half-naked with red LED lights in the background?"

"Not really." He hums.

"Oh..." You frown dramatically, "Booooringgg."

Gojo chuckles at you before deciding to give you a hint about what he puts out, "If you had to pick one feature about me that you think girls would be into, what would it be?"

"Uhm..." You stare at him for a moment, "Why are you asking me this as if you're literally not Gojo Satoru?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" He blinks.

"You're the walking definition of sex appeal."

His brows raise at your words, "Am I?"

"Human embodiment of sexy." You continue to thoughtlessly compliment.

"Oh really?" Gojo smirks, "Keep going..."

"You're-," You suddenly stop yourself and narrow your eyes at him "Y'know what, I think you get it by now."

"Mhm..." He hums, having enjoyed hearing you compliment him, "Now, tell me just one feature you think girls find overly attractive."

"Just one? There's so many though."

"C'mon, just one."

You shrug, "Your eyes."

He blinks, a noticeable shade of blush spreading across his cheeks immediately in reaction to your words. Gojo is oddly adorable when receiving compliments from you, almost as if he's not used to it.

He bats his eyelashes at you, "My eyes?"

"You literally have blue eyes and white eyelashes," You say flatly, "Why are you acting like you don't get that all the time?"

"I mean it's different coming from you."

"How?"

"That means that's the first thing you notice about me..." He murmurs quietly, nearly missing your ears, "But, no that's not it. Now name something else you think is attractive."

Your eyes search the man for a moment, gazing at his clear skin, pretty face, gorgeous hair, sharp jawline, remembering his abs, thinking about his arms and how they feel, and then finding yourself staring at his hands.

You blink, "Your ha..." You cut yourself off, not wanting to give away the genuine attraction you have for his hands. "Your abs-"

Gojo cuts you off, having heard what you were about to say, "You had the first one right."

"Your hands?!" You gasp.

He smiles, "Why do you sound surprised as if you don't like them yourself-"

"Wait, oh my god, so that means you do hand and finger thirst traps?!" You say with a slightly dropped jaw.

Gojo looks away from you, "On one of my pages, yes. Though, I still don't get the appeal-"

"Gojo your hands are literally perfect." You interrupt.

His ears redden but he looks at you again, moving to put his hand out, "What about them are perfect?"

You inspect the part of his body in question, moving to drag a finger along his skin, "The veins... the length... how soft they are..." You slowly get carried away as you feel them, "...how warm... how deep inside me they reach..."

"Woah," Gojo can't help but flash a toothy smile, "I don't think any of my fans can feel that last one sweetheart-"

"That makes it better for some reason, honestly." You shrug.

"Yeah?" He bites his bottom lip a little, "Y'like knowing that you're the only one who gets to have my fingers deep inside your pu-"

"Stop." You cut off, your face flushing as you look away from him.

He leans just a bit closer to you, "So you can say it but I can't?"

"Your version was going to be far more explicit." You hum, avoiding those teasing looks of his.

"So? It's true." Gojo replies, watching as you feel his hand, "You are the only girl that I've ever fingered after all..."

Your movements come to a stop and you look at him, "Wait what?"

"Hm?" Gojo hums, shifting his hand to hold yours suddenly.

You wanted to stop the gesture but you didn't, "What do you mean I'm the only girl you've ever fingered...?"

His shoulders rise into a shrug and his eyes remain on how small your hand is in his, "Never felt like fingering a girl before you."

"Then how..." You trail off as you recall that moment with him before shaking your head, "Nevermi-"

"How did I know how to do it so well?" He finishes for you.

"I mean... yeah..."

"For starters," Gojo spreads his hand out, having your palm rest over his and comparing the size difference, "I have long fingers so naturally I reach deeper inside you."

"Okay..." You murmur.

"And everything else I just figured out as I did it." He says cheekily, flicking his gaze up to your face, "Didn't expect you to cum from that alone though-"

"Okay okay," Your face flushes a deep shade, "We don't have to talk about it anymore..."

"Aw, why?" He coos, teasing you, "I like remembering that time. Y'know, thinking about how tight your pussy felt around my fingers-"

"Jesus Satoru," Your eyes widened at his lewd words, "Stop it."

"How warm and wet you were for me." He continues nonetheless.

"Satoru-"

A smile spreads across his face at how embarrassed you get in reaction to his words, "The way you moaned my name almost made me cream my pants too-"

"Satoru." You say sternly.

Gojo pulls his lower lip into his mouth for a moment, carefully letting it slide back out as he stares at your face, "Hm? Yes, sweetheart?"

"Stop it." You order.

His fingers suddenly curl in between yours before he pulls your hand up to his mouth, gently kissing the back of it. "Yes ma'am..." Gojo whispers against you.

"Anyway..." You whisper, ignoring how fast your heart is beating, "So taking videos of your hands is how you make money?"

"It's how I make some of it, yeah," Gojo replies, just barely taking his lips off your hand.

You nod, "I see... Well, you're gonna have to explain where the rest of your money is coming from one day because I swear if I find out the money you've given me is illegal or something-"

"It's not, I swear." He reassures you. "I'd give my life savings to you before ever putting you in a position like that."

It's weird but, you smile slightly at his words. Then, you watch in comfortable silence as Gojo moves to kiss the back of your hand over and over. His lips are so soft against your skin, so affectionate, and so utterly loving that it almost infects you.

The hand kisses are enough to give you butterflies and the moment you feel that, you're quick to casually pull your hand away.

Gojo pouts at the loss of your hand but he doesn't say anything, simply moving to finally start driving again.

According to him, you've got fifteen dresses to go through and pick before the night approaches, and then after that; you'll finally meet Nanami.

Or at least, that was the plan. You weren't expecting things to go down the way it did.

No one could prepare you for the feelings that lay deep within the male in the car with you right now...

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

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etherealyoungk · 1 year

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third time's a charm - kim mingyu

summary: you and mingyu are rivals, having restaurants near each other and just hating each other's guts for wanting to be the top restaurant in the area. but life's not always fair and you and mingyu end up having to work together. a little bit of angst, spice, fluff, and mutual pining turns into a cute one-shot.

pairing: chef!mingyu x chef!reader

warnings: enemies to lovers kinda, fluff, angst, kissing, suggestive and suggestive language, implied smut, mentions of alcohol, use of curse words, and mingyu being an annoying ass but <3 he's so fine

word count: 6.5k // lowercase intended

a/n: a repost of my chef mingyu series as a one-shot. i had so much fun writing this, i hope you enjoy reading it.

chef!mingyu and you are rivals, having restaurants near each other and just hating each other's guts wanting to be the top restaurant in the area. but then one day you both get hired for a private event because the person who was getting married likes both of your food and couldn't choose. they asked if you both could maybe collaborate and work. you would have said no but the money was too good to lose out on. so here you are bickering with mingyu as you sit late at night in his restaurant trying to decide the menu for the wedding event. he'll just be so fucking cocky with a stupid smirk plastered on his face because he's just that confident about his skills and cooking and you both just can't seem to agree on anything.

"you're so annoying god, how am i supposed to work with you", you mumble. "come on baby, let's both put aside our differences and work like professionals hm", mingyu says.

"i swear if you stress me out i will kill you", you say. "ah don't worry, besides i know some ways we can destress", he says giving you a wink and making you almost choke on the water you were sipping on.

you both have to taste test the menu first before finalizing it so you head to Mingyu’s restaurant the next day and it’s just you two alone in the kitchen as you cook the dishes, mingyu is in charge of starters and mains while you were in charge of the two desserts. mingyu will not shy away from taunting you and just trying to flirt and mess with you because he's a jerk like that but fuck he looked so hot when he was in his element cooking. he tastes your dishes and will be surprised at how good it is. "it's pretty good", he admits. "duh what did you think", you reply annoyed. "thought it would taste like shit", he says and you smack his arm. "i told you not to get on my nerves", you warn and he just chuckles saying sorry as he licks the plate clean.

then on the day of the event somehow you ended up with missing ingredients so you had to make do with what you had, having a full panic attack as you try to stay calm and finish cooking in the time given. mingyu surprisingly wouldn't be a jerk that day and would come to help you re-plan your menu and dishes and once his service was over, he'd come and help you plate the desserts. finally done with the hectic day, you both head home and you end up crashing in mingyu's place because you had a little too much to drink. you would wake up wondering where the hell you were in the morning until you see a shirtless mingyu in front of you and the smell of something sweet in the air.

"are you awake baby? i didn't know if you liked pancakes or french toast so i made both", he says with a smile. you can't seem to remember anything from the night before but seeing mingyu shirtless and you in one of mingyu's shirts in his bed makes you start thinking things.

"did we...sleep together?", you ask and he just smirks. "why baby don't you remember?", he teases, putting the plate down on the table. "n-no", you mumble. "if you're teasing me i swear i will kill you", you say giving him a death stare. "i mean you were pretty much all over me last night", he says and your jaw drops. "liar". he shakes his head. "i had to lock the guest room and sleep because i was so scared", he adds and you roll your eyes. "but if you do want to sleep together, i'd be more than happy to oblige", he says with wink as he grins, leaning forward making your breath hitch. god, he was so annoying.

after you woke up in mingyu's bed that day you're just not able to stop thinking about him and it just annoys you even more because his stupid smirk is engraved in your mind. "if you want to sleep with me, i'd be happy to oblige?" that fucker. you mumble to yourself and head to the restaurant that day and try to tune out mingyu. but then just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse, it does. your ex-partner decided to give you a visit because they were 'missing you' and you're just even more ticked off because of the way they're pitying you and thinking your life sucks because they’re not with you anymore. the way they’d be just boasting about their life now and just thinking you didn't move on was infuriating.

"so did you move on from me? i know you loved me so the breakup must have hit you hard", they say, making you absolutely seeth with anger. who the hell did they think they were? just then you spot mingyu from the corner of your eye. you had forgotten you had asked him to come over because you had forgotten your wallet at his place and he offered to come to drop it off back to you that evening.

so you put on your fakest smile and do something stupid but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"baby, you're finally here!", you say loudly, walking over to mingyu as he comes up to you both. you latch your arm around mingyu's, leaning your head on his arm. "i was waiting for you", you add looking at mingyu as you bat your eyelashes at him. mingyu would just be so confused and literally, just be like wtf as he looks at you. you give him a small nudge with your elbow, as you side-eye your ex hoping he'll get the message and play along. and thankfully he does. he smiles, and his arm goes around your waist, pulling you closer than you already were. "were you waiting long? the traffic was horrible", he says. your ex just watches all this unfold. "oh, you should meet my boyfriend", you say as you look at your ex. they just gives you both a stiff smile. "we should head home soon hm, i have something special planned", mingyu adds, leaning in to kiss your cheek, catching you off guard. you ex excuses himself and finally heads off. you watch as he leaves, rolling your eyes.

"that asshole", you mutter. "who do they think there are huh, can't believe i actually dated a piece of shit like them", you add, clearly frustrated. a few more profanities leave your lips while mingyu just looks at you, amused at the situation he's been caught in. you don't even realize that you're still holding mingyu's hand until you feel him squeeze your hand ever so slightly. so you look down and look back up at him before letting go of his hand. not going to lie, he would be a bit :\ because of how fast you let go of his hand but he won't say anything.

"so i'm your boyfriend now hm", he says with that stupid smile as he raises an eyebrow. "noo", you defend and he'll pout. "kidding, anyways who was that guy?", he prompts. "my ex, that little shit", you say and mingyu can tell you're extremely annoyed. "here's your wallet", he says as he hands it to you, fetching it from his pocket. "thank you", you say, really grateful this time, because as annoying as he was, he was still a nice guy.

mingyu would offer to drive you home and you agree because it was raining and you didn't really have any other means of transportation so late at night. "i could really use a drink or two", you say as mingyu drives. so that's how you end up in a bar nearby, having a heart-to-heart conversation with mingyu - your rival in business and the guy to who you refused to believe you were attracted. and once again, you find yourself waking up in an unfamiliar bed, only to realize it's mingyu's bed...again. "fuck", you mutter as you try to get out of bed, but mingyu enters - shirtless of course.

"awake baby? i think i'm having deja-vu", he says, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks at you. "i'm sorry...you could have just dropped me home", you add. "but you basically passed out on the couch, how the hell was i supposed to drop you off home in that state", he counters. fair point. "okay im sorry. i'll treat you to lunch and dinner for letting me crash the night", you add and he smiles satisfied with the deal.

"so...do you remember what happened last night?", he adds, with a glint in his eyes. "hm what happened?", you ask, confused. you again have no recollection of the night before. he clicks his tongue. "im disappointed baby, i thought you would remember", he says as he walks up to the bed. "why...what happened?", you ask, unsure. "you really don't remember?", he frowns and shakes his head. "you don't remember asking me to sleep with you? i had to pry you off me", he says and you are horrified. "what…i would never....i didn't", you stutter. "hell you even tried to steal a few smooches". "stop lying i swear i will actually strangle you", you tell making him chuckle, showing his pretty smile. "no but you really did ask me to sleep with you baby", he says completely serious this time and you can feel your cheeks heat up because what the fuck. you really must've had too much to drink.

"it must've been a while since your last partner if you're so desperate for me", he'll tease. asshole. "i'll happily oblige if you ask me sober though", he adds with a wink making you whack him with the pillow.

you'll go home that day annoyed, hot, and bothered and won't be able to stop thinking about mingyu and his stupidly handsome face and body.

doesn't it suck to have the person you hate on your mind constantly? expect it wasn't exactly hate with mingyu. it was more how you just refused to believe you were attracted to him that made you think about him even more. not to mention you were business rivals, so you didn't want to do anything stupid.

it's been a few weeks and as much it pained you to admit it, you did wish mingyu stopped by but he hadn't in the last few weeks. and just as you were locking up and about to leave, you see a familiar figure strolling inside your restaurant - mingyu.

"what do you want?", you ask coldly, tired from the long day. "now is that how you greet a friend?", he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. you noticed how the shirt he was wearing just hugged his body and arms, showing off his biceps. and he was wearing glasses too. fuck he looked so hot tonight. you cleared your throat before speaking.

"im tired okay, what's up?", you repeat. "just came for dinner", he prompts and you're lost. "sorry what? we're closed", you say. "did someone forget they owe me lunch and dinner? how ungrateful", he says, shaking his head with a scoff. right, you promised him you'd treat him for letting you crash in his place.

"right...what do you want?", you ask. "i want you to cook me something that you love to eat", he asks. "i'll buy you something how's that?", you bargain. "no can do baby. or do you want the whole world to know that you're dying to sleep with me", he asks with a raised brow making you narrow your eyes at him. "you're such an ass", you mumble, purposely nudging your elbow into him as you walk ahead.

you lock up and mingyu would drive you back to your place where you decide to cook your favorite pasta for him. it was simple, easy to make, and super yummy too. mingyu would hang around in the kitchen as you started cooking, and maybe give you some unsolicited decor advice, making you roll your eyes. and you notice how mingyu's hands would just automatically start helping you gather ingredients or things - i guess that’s what happens when you cook for a living. you'd have to smack his hands off, telling him you'd manage to make him pout.

he'll lean back on the other end of the counter as you stand chopping some vegetables and doing some prep for the pasta. "so did your ex pay you a visit again?", mingyu asks, looking at you keenly. "that idiot did come in the morning again, and was asking where you were", you say. "what did you say?", "nothing, just that you had worked", you add. "but i don't think he'll come again, hopefully", you add.

"was he good in bed?", mingyu asks, like it's the most normal question in the world, catching you completely off guard. "excuse me? what kind of question is that?", you say, looking at him. "what, can't i know about your loser ex? i'm guessing he was pretty shit seeing as you've been dying to sleep with me", he adds with a smug smirk. as he pushes his glasses up. "what- firstly i am not dying to sleep with you and secondly i don't see why that actually matters to you", you say, getting annoyed. mingyu did an excellent job getting on your nerves.

"yeah so he was shit in bed", mingyu concludes when you avoid the question. "fuck you mingyu", you say, giving his a side eye. "oh, so you want me to? i'll gladly do it, just ask", he says nonchalantly. "like you're that good in bed either", you mumble to yourself but obviously mingyu heard you.

"is that a challenge baby? do you want me to show you", he asks with a raised brow. "whatever oh my god, just let me cook", you snap back at him, getting your focus back onto prepping for the pasta.

after a few seconds of silence, mingyu speaks up again. "baby if you need help, i'll be more than happy to. it feels awkward just standing here doing nothing", he asks again. "firstly, my name is -", you start, looking up to glance at mingyu. and maybe it was because you looked away for a second or because you were tired, your hand slipped and the knife sliced your finger. "OW", you yell, dropping the knife on the counter as you clutch your finger to your chest.

mingyu would be by your side in an instant. "what happened?", he asks and he gets his answer from the drops of blood on the countertop. "shit", he mutters. he can tell by the way your finger is bleeding that it's deep and bad cut. "where's your first aid kit", he asks urgently. "top shelf on the right", you mumble. he'll clear the countertop, pushing all the ingredients and chopping board to the side to make some space for you. you feel his hands on your waist as he gently hoists you up so you're now sitting on the countertop.

"here, let me see hm", he asks softly. you open your hands and hear him take in a sharp breath. it was pretty bad. you had cut not one, but two fingers and they were pretty deep slices, ouch. he'll wipe your finger with a wet cloth first. then he'll dab the disinfectant on, and you close your eyes because it burned like shit. "oww it hurts", you whine. "let me do it, i can manage mingyu", you huff but he won't let you. "don't - just let me help you".

he'll clean your other cuts and it just burns so bad you end up leaning your forehead on mingyu's shoulder, as he's standing in front of you. he'll gently bandage your fingers and make sure you were all okay. "done, you are okay baby?", he asks as you're still leaning your head against him. "hm", you manage to say. you lift your head up but you're still so close to mingyu, you gulp as you look at him. "sorry, i guess i was just tired", you tell softly. "you should have told me, we could have done this another time", he scolds. "i owed you though", you mumble, looking down. and i wanted to spend time with you.

"i'll be okay, it's no big deal", you add and you're hyper-aware of mingyu's hands resting on your thighs as he stares at you. "you're really stubborn you know", he adds making you scoff. "stubborn? me?? have you seen yourself, you're so damn cocky about everything", you counter. he won't say anything but he did love seeing you all feisty, he thought it was hot. "what can i say, i like being the best in everything i do", he counters, giving you a little smirk.

and you can't take it anymore. you couldn't take his stupid smile and how stupidly attracted you were to him. you couldn't take the tension anymore, so you just grabbed mingyu by the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward, kissing him. he would be caught off guard for a second but he'll smirk into the kiss, kissing you back as he moves his lips against yours. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as your fist where you held the collar of his shirt tightens, feeling giddy with the kiss. you pull away.

"we shouldn't be doing this", you say breathlessly. "give me one good reason why we shouldn't", he responds as he captures your lips again, his other hand going to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him. "fuck...because we're rivals and i'm supposed to hate you", you mumble between kisses. "let's just screw that and start over", he says as he leaves a trail of soft kisses on your collarbone. but your mind is too fuzzy to care anymore. you look at him, his lips pink and plump from all the kissing. he starts to kiss your neck, making you gasp as your eyes flutter close. he leaves a trail of soft kisses on your collarbone. "m-mingyu", you whisper. "hm tell me what you want baby", he groans softly, kissing up to your jawline as you grip his arm. "you're so annoying"softly, kissing up to your jawline. he moves his hand to remove his glasses when you stop him. "don't, i like how they look on you", you say, looking at him as you bite your lip. "oh really? how does it look on me?", he asks, fully knowing the answer but he just wanted to hear it from you. "makes you look so hot", you mumble against his lips, kissing him. he kisses you back as he moves his lips against yours. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as your fist where you held the collar of his shirt tightens, feeling giddy with the kiss.

you don't know how you made it to your bed, as mingyu hovers over you, his shirt thrown somewhere to the side. "i'll fuck you so good that the only name you'll remember is mine", he taunts, whispering in your ear before kissing you again. his cheeks flushed and his hair falling over his face as he looks down at you. with such passion making you dizzy.

you stir awake and open your eyes to see mingyu soundly sleeping next to you. his arm is lazily around your waist, his hair falling over his hair in a cute mess. the events of last night are still clear in your head. what was going to happen now? what were the two of you?

you gently move, trying not to wake up mingyu, but he stirs slowly beside you, his arm tightening against your waist as he pulls you closer. "five more minutes", he mumbles and you can't really do anything to get out of his killer grip, so you lay there in his arms, admiring his pretty face.

"your five minutes are up", you say, pushing against his chest to get out of his hold, making mingyu open his eyes. "you're so mean", he mumbles, letting you get out of his grasp.

your clothes are scattered on the floor from the night before and you reach out for the closest thing near you - mingyu's shirt. you can definitely see him check you out as you are draped in his shirt as he shows his pretty grin to you. mingyu makes breakfast and soon you both part ways, having to attend to the restaurant.

that night, you crash in bed and you can't stop thinking about what happened between you both. what was going to happen? how could you possibly stay friends with him? would it be weird? and mostly, you were scared. you still didn't want to admit how you felt about him. and after last night's events, you were even more confused and unsure. so you do the worst thing anyone can do - try to avoid mingyu and pretend like it didn't happen.

it's easy at first because you're both busy with your work. but mingyu would leave you occasional texts to which you would just reply with short sentences, making up excuses that you were busy or tired if he asked if you were free for dinner or coffee. but then mingyu obviously picks up on your behavior and maybe starts to feel bad. and he decides to finally do something about it.

you wrap up for the night and are heading out the door when you bump into someone since you were looking at your phone as you walked. "ouch-oh", you let out upon seeing whom you had bumped into - mingyu.

"hi", you say, gaining your balance as you step back. "hi" he says as he looks at you. "what's up?", you ask. "i'm here to get my second treat from you", he adds and when you give him a confused look he elaborates. "did someone forget they owe me two meals?", he prompts with a raised eyebrow. this annoying asshole.

"thought you forgot about", you mumble under your breath. "how could i, what do you take me for hm", he teases making you glare at him. since you'd been avoiding him, you forgot how cocky and annoying he was, even though you hated to admit how much it turned you on and how much you found him insanely attractive.

"what do you want? i'll buy you dinner", you tell. "nope, you've to make me something", he tells, not budging. "fine i'll make you ramen", you tell. he raises his eyebrows. "are you flirting with me right now?", he asks. you simply push past him and walk ahead mumbling under your breath as he laughs and follows behind you.

you both are in your apartment now. taking a pot, you fill it with water and wait for it to boil as mingyu leans back against the counter. you're about to chop some green onions when mingyu steps in. "let me hm, don't want you cutting yourself again", he says as he takes the knife from you, chopping them neatly. you just hoped he didn't bring up what happened last time now because you would die on the spot if he did that.

"so...can i ask you why you've been avoiding me?", he finally asks. your leaning against the other side of the counter now as mingyu turns back to look at you. great, here we go.

"what do you mean, i haven't been avoiding you", you lie, trying to sound convincing but mingyu can see right through you. "don't lie baby, it's very obvious", he says crossing his arms across his chest, which only emphasized his biceps even more.

"is it because of what happened between us last time?", he asks as he looks at you. the way he looks at you and waits tells you that he did genuinely have feelings for you. you liked him too, he definitely made your heart jump. but you both were supposed to be rivals and you're feelings were complicated, and you didn't know how to say it.

"i'm not going to lie, i did feel bad. i thought there was a spark between us you know", he says. the water is boiling now but mingyu didn't move and neither did you.

"yeah, it was fine. just... let's just treat it like a one-night stand and move on okay. forget about it", you tell, dismissing the topic and your feelings completely, and you didn't miss the flash of hurt that reflected in mingyu's eyes.

you come forward to put the ramen in the water along with the flavoring packets as you try to ignore mingyu's presence next to you. "wow", he finally says. "so that's all it was to you? it didn't mean anything? because from what i remember i clearly felt something and so did you", he adds, not letting go of the topic.

"it's just something that happened-" "did you want it", he asks cutting you off. the ramen is still boiling but neither of you pays attention to it anymore. "i mean yeah but that doesn't need to define our relationship", you tell. "what are we now?", you ask.

"i don't know but i thought it could be the start of something. but seeing how you just thought about it as a one-night stand and have been ignoring me ever since tells me all i need to know", he tells as he runs a hand through his hair. you finally turn back your attention to the ramen, which is clearly been boiling for too long. turning off the stove, you serve some for yourself and mingyu and push the bowl toward him.

neither of you talk as you both eat, mingyu inhaling the noodles. you can tell he's pissed off but he still helps you clean up before leaves, only telling you thanks for the ramen as he steps out the door of your apartment.

that week mingyu doesn't text you or call. it was selfish of you to think that he would. but still, you unconsciously found yourself waiting for his text or his goofy face to pop by your restaurant. and that's when you realized you missed him. you really did like him alot. that night after a long day and a long week, you find yourself drinking alone in the corner of a cute restaurant, just drowning in your sorrows. you were pretty tipsy at this point and some random person decided to sit next to you, annoying you and was trying to make small talk with you.

"can you leave, please? i don't think i know you", you tell but they don't seem to listen. that's when you hear a familiar voice. "i think you need to go", the voice says and you look up. "who are you?" "they're my partner", you hear the voice say as the person gets up, walking off as the person glares at him.

the mystery person who just saved you takes a seat opposite you and you stare at him trying to figure out where you've seen him before. "you look like someone i know", you tell, taking another sip of your drink, only to find the glass empty as you ask for another drink. "yeah you look like this guy mingyu", you tell and he chuckles because it was, in fact, mingyu who was sitting in front of you.

after taking a few sips of your refreshed drink, you launch into an explanation about mingyu...to mingyu because you're too drunk to realize mingyu is in front of you and you just needed to get things off your chest.

"who's mingyu?", he asks. "this guy who's super annoying but also so attractive. and i just fucked up big time with him. we ended up sleeping together but then i just told him to forget about it basically. and now i'm just going to die single", you tell. mingyu smiles softly at that. " but how do you feel about him?", he asks, curious to know what you really felt and thought about him.

"i do like him, even though he's too cocky for his own good and annoying, he's pretty cool. i can't seem to think straight when i'm around him. i was just scared to admit my feelings after and screwed up, causing a mess. but i really really do like him", you tell, as you down your drink. mingyu stops your hand when you ask for another drink. "i think you've had enough for tonight baby, let's get you home", he says and soon he's driving you back home while you're passed out asleep in the passenger seat of his car.

you stir awake in bed, your head heavy from last night's drinking. you open your eyes and look around. since when did you have yellow walls? you look around and get up, realizing this isn't your room, but why does it seem vaguely familiar? just then a head peeps into the room - mingyu.

what the hell? he sees you awake and gives you that toothy, stupid, pretty smile. "you're awake i see", he tells, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe. "you should just move into my place hm i can see that you love it so much", he adds, being sarcastic and teasing you. "why am i here?", you ask, confused, not being able to recall how or why you even ended up in mingyu's house. you're just hoping you didn't do anything stupid last night.

"bad memory again baby?", he prompts and you give him a small glare.

"shit", you mumble under your breath as you wrack your brain and try to recall last nights events. "sorry i keep crashing at your place", you add, feeling guilty. "i made breakfast, eat before it get's cold", he says before retreating back to the dining hall. you follow him after a minute and you're about to just walk away.

"it's fine, i'll eat later", you say but mingyu just puts the plate in front of you, guiding you to a seat and pushing you down to sit. "you're really going to refuse my world famous french toast?", he asks.

you take a bite and nod because it was actually very yum. "how'd i end up here anyway?", you ask, looking at mingyu. "you texted me", he says and you wait for him to explain more. "or like left me a few really misspelled drunk texts which i had to put together to figure out where you were". then you remember. right, that's what i was doing, trying to forget about mingyu, yet here you were at his house.

"and then you passed out in my car when i was driving you home and you wouldn't wake up so i had to take you back to my place", he explains between bites of his toast. you cringe at the memory. "sorry", you mumble out.

later that week you still can't stop thinking about mingyu and even more so. he was just so sweet and charming. and you missed him. you're laying down in bed and it's late. you're staring at the ceiling and thinking about mingyu and your feelings. what was i so scared off? was i going to push away somehow just because i was unsure and scared, and maybe lose out on something because of that? and then regret it. you didn't want to. you'd done that plenty of times before and knew how it ended. so you get up. you were not going to make the same mistake with mingyu.

you threw on a hoodie and shoes and took the bus, making your way to mingyu's house. you run from the bus stop to his place, not caring if people gave you weird looks. you were just hoping that it wasn't too late and that mingyu would still listen and maybe give you a chance.

you run up the stairs not caring to wait for the elevator and ring his doorbell, leaning your hand against his door as you catch your breath. the door opens and you lose your balance, falling right into mingyu's arm. he catches you. "woah woah", he says seeing you. "y/n?", he asks, seeing you breathless. "are you okay? did something happen?", he asks again. you step inside, the door closing behind you.

"let me get you some water and-", "i like you too okay", you tell, catching him off guard and he just stares at you. "i like you a lot mingyu. i was just scared of my feelings and pushed you away and i was an idiot but now i realized now. i'm sorry about the other day, i shouldn't have said that but now i can see it, that i really like you", you continue in one breath as you look at mingyu.

mingyu falters, trying to hide the smile that so desperately wants to burst across his face. "damn, i didn't think you'd be so upfront about it", he tells as he smiles at you finally. "so you finally decided that you like me huh", he teases, taking a stride ahead as you take a step back until you're backed up against the door. mingyu stands in front of you, his arms on both sides of your body. he leans in ever so slightly. "y-yeah", you reply softly as you look at his lips.

mingyu smiles and you can't take it anymore. you lean forward and kiss him, melting right into his arms as his hands move to your waist, pulling you against him. god you had missed this. his lips were soft and they moved against yours making you dizzy. "i missed you", you whisper against his lips and he lets out a soft grunt. "me too baby but i knew you'd come around", he says. he sees your furrowed brows and realizes you didn't remember the drunk confession you had made to him.

"you don't remember? that night you called me over and like told me everything and confessed when you were drunk. i was just waiting for you to tell me when you were sober", he tells, kissing your jaw. "i really need to cut down on alcohol", you mutter and he chuckles. you find his lips again and kiss him. "you're really darn stubborn you know", mingyu tells you once he breaks away making you whack his arm.

he grins as he chases after your lips again, guiding you to the couch, pulling you on top of him, never once breaking away, making you breathless once again. "you now owe me another meal", he mumbles between kisses. "hm", you mumble, pecking his nose.

"be my boyfriend?", you ask, looking at him and he grins at that word. "whatever you want baby, i'm all yours", he tells as he kisses you again and you get lost in the feeling of his kisses and how his lips feel on yours.

it's been about three months since you and mingyu have been dating after you finally came to your senses and finally acknowledged your feelings about him. and honestly you were so happy. mingyu was sweet, funny, honest, passionate, and still annoyingly attractive but who were you to complain because you had him all to yourself now.

you're at mingyu's place because you're finally keeping your end of the deal and cooking another meal for him because you still owed mingyu one last meal, and he wasn't going to let you forget about it. after months of nagging and forgetting, remembering and nagging again, here you are, cooking him a meal.

"i really didn't think you'd make me cook for you again after i admitted how i felt like that's just petty", you tell. "we made a deal hm and it still has to be fulfilled", he counters. "i was glad you forgot about it...until now", you mumble and he chuckles.

you had prepared pork tonkatsu with some sides and you set everything on the table. "looks good", he says. "of course, this is like my specialty", you tell proudly with a smile. you watch as mingyu takes a bite and chews. "it's...better than i expected", he admits and you smile. "see, everyone loves it"

oh, and mingyu still loves to tease you about how you were 'playing hard to get' on purpose. "you know i still don't get why you hated me", he asks after dinner, where you both are sitting on the couch, having some cake mingyu bought.

"i didn't hate you", you defend. "liar, you totally hated me like i swear i saw lasers shooting from your eye the first time we met", he counters and you roll your eyes at his exaggeration.

"i just...i don't know, i thought you were so full of yourself and too cocky...and too good looking", you tell mumbling the last part. "hm what was that baby?", he prods, as he puts his plate down. "nothing", you tell. "speak up baby", "that you were too good looking oh my god", you tell, annoyed.

''you left out the most important part". "what?", you ask, confused. "that you were dying to sleep with me", he completes, with a stupid smirk.

"mingyu!", you exclaim, whacking his arm as he laughs. "i was not okay", you tell, putting down your plate too. "i just-" "was so desperate for me", he says, finishing the sentence for you, making you glare at him as he leans closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"you're so annoying", you huff. "only for you", he replies, as he leans in to kiss you and you get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours.

"you need to cook me something next time", you mumble as you pull away. "hm whatever you want", he says as he chases after your lips again, making you melt in his embrace.

taglist: @joshuaahong @naaaaafla

i'd love to know what you thought :) reblogs appreciated <3

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 months

Note

Request: Andy Barber & Baby Girl having sex during a thunderstorm.

Through the Storm

Summary: Andy helps you overcome your fear of thunderstorms.

Warnings: Astraphobia, Smut, Anxious Reader, Dominant Andy, Manhandling, Fingering, Spanking, CMNF (Clothed Male, Nude Female), Safe Sex, Cuddles, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Finally finished this WIP! This request takes place early in Andy and Reader's relationship. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series, but can also be read as a standalone. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

You stare out into the backyard, watching sheets of slanted rain pelt against your boyfriend’s newly installed patio. While it wasn’t much, it was enough to give the compact enclosed space the cozy feel it had long been missing. You’d even helped him with the landscaping, much to your chagrin.

Andy had been quick to learn that while you enjoyed gardening you were also terrified of virtually all things creepy crawly, like bees. Especially bees. Your man hadn’t known what to make of that one, which had certainly made for an entertaining afternoon.

A loud crash of thunder suddenly booms overhead, startling you so bad that you nearly drop the bottle of water in your hands. You fucking hated thunderstorms, a fun little nugget that you had yet to share with the man who was currently waiting for you to join him upstairs.

Truth be told, you hadn’t even planned on staying over tonight. You were supposed to be home by the time the storm rolled in, tucked away safe and sound on your couch. All the while clutching your stuffed bear, Mr. Sprinkles, for dear life and watching your favorite comfort films until Mother Nature decided she was done with her tantrum.

But dinner with friends had gone long and then the show had started late. Well, the dinner itself hadn’t actually been with friends – more like one of his work colleagues. But the guy’s wife had been nice enough. And after enjoying one last round of drinks, you four had wandered across the street to take-in a production of Aladdin on Broadway.

Of course musicals weren’t really your thing, but since it was a childhood favorite of yours you’d been all for it. Your boyfriend didn’t know how much of a Disney fan you really were. Which was okay. Because he was older, more mature. And as such, you always tried to come off more sophisticated than what you actually were.

He’d already been married once before and had a child. One he’d lost a few years back. You two had yet to actually have a true conversation about that one but you were almost certain it was coming.

It had to be, right? Because it wasn’t like you both could skirt around the topic forever. But, at the same time, it’s also not like you could be the one to bring up. Like, how would a conversation like that even go?

Exactly. It wouldn’t. Because you couldn’t. It wasn’t your place.

So, you would allow that door to remain shut for as long as it took to allow him to open it and guide you through. You could be patient.

Alright fine. You would make yourself be patient. And until then you would keep trying to demonstrate the right amount of emotional maturity needed to prove that you could be a good partner and support system. Or at least a little worldlier than you probably came off.

But all of that would be pretty hard to do if Andrew Barber knew that you were secretly afraid of thunderstorms. He wouldn’t get it and you would only end up tripping all over yourself if you tried to explain. Which meant that you had to make a decision.

Either you could be brave and climb the stairs so you could crawl into bed – his bed – wearing nothing but a pair of panties and one of his oversized t-shirts. Or you could sneak upstairs, grab your clothes, and dash out your man’s front door into the night like a madwoman and hope that he would be too stunned to chase you down.

“Whatcha doin’ down there, Baby Girl?” Andy bellows from up above, making you jump.

“Noth–coming!” You shout back as you pad towards the stairs, still trying your best to devise a plan. Andrew Barber was deceptively fast, which meant running was out. So you were most likely gonna have to suck it up until he fell asleep and then you would be free to tremble in peace.

The city’s hottest attorney could not know that he was dating the world’s biggest scaredy cat. If he ever found out, you might never recover from the embarrassment.

You find yourself holding your breath as you round the corner before stepping inside Andy’s bedroom. Your man looks up from his phone when he notices that you’ve finally joined him. A warm smile spreads across his handsome features as he leans back, allowing his big body to relax against the frame.

“Thought I was gonna have to come looking for you.” His husky purr sends a tiny shiver coursing through you, all the way down to your toes.

“Uh, nope. Here I am.” Your eyes stray towards your overnight bag nestled innocently in the corner. Because if you weren’t mistaken you were also beginning to sweat. “But I was thinking that maybe I ought to – nooope!”

An loud, unexpected clap of thunder has you diving towards the bed with a shriek. You seek refuge under the blankets, ignoring the sounds of a bewildered Andy calling your name. He tries to lift up the edge of the comforter, but you refuse to let go.

At this point, you have no desire to acknowledge just how ridiculous you were being at that very moment. Because you were scared.

And also a smidge mortified.

“Um, honey..?” Andy works to keep his tone light. “What’s going on?” He pauses briefly as one big hand comes to rest on what he assumes must be your head. “Are you okay?”

“Yep!” You squeak out, clutching the blanket even tighter around you. “But I’m also really, really sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Again he tugs at the edge of your makeshift shield, prompting you to try and roll away. “You haven’t done anything – can you at least look at me? Please.”

“Um, I…I don’t think so. No.” Your words come out slightly muffled.

You’re rewarded with a heavy sigh followed by a brief moment of silence. Although you’re not sure what you expected him to say, you’re still surprised by what comes next.

“Well, if you won’t come out, then I guess that means I’ll just have to come under there then, won’t I?”

Fine by you. Because you were pretty sure that you were only seconds away from dying of embarrassment anyhow.

“Kay.”

“Let me in, princess.”

Relief fills him when he sees you finally relax your grip. Seconds later he joins you under the blankets, cocooning you both within the plush softness.

“Hey.” Andy breathes as his eyes strain to adjust to the light.

“Hey.”

As if of its own accord, one of his hands reaches over to gently brush your curls away from your face. A quiet sigh makes its way past your lips as you feel yourself melting into his touch. In a way it acted as an unspoken reminder.

You were safe with this man. Which meant it was time to fess up.

“Umm…” He makes an exaggerated show of looking around. “Why are we hiding?”

“Because.” You whisper, only to flinch when another crack of thunder echoes above.

“Because?” Your man drags out the word. “Because what? Are you–?” He cuts himself off before trying again. “I’m gonna guess that all this has something to do with the storm. Am I somewhere in the ballpark?”

His question has hot tears pricking the backs of your eyes.

“I don’t like it.” You croak before giving into temptation and burying yourself in his tattoo-covered chest. “In fact, I hate it.”

Good Lord, you sounded so pitiful right now.

“The…storm?”

“All of it.” You confirm as you begin to tremble ever so slightly. “The lightning, the thunder, the heavy winds, the sound of the rain. S’too much.”

“I see.” Is all he says, even as his hand goes to rest on the small of your back, rubbing in easy, soothing circles.

“I’m sorry.” You feel even worse when the tears spill over onto Andy’s bare skin.

“Hush.” Comes the soft-spoken command, drawing you flush against his much larger body. “There’s no need to be sorry. I just wish you would’ve said something earlier. Is that why you were so adamant about going home tonight?”

“Mmhm.”

But then your handsome ogre just had to go and be difficult.

“And I convinced you to stay.” Andy huffs out a disappointed breath at the same time as he drags his knuckles along your spine. “I should’ve noticed something was wrong. All I could think about was how much better I sleep whenever you’re next to me.” You can tell he’s annoyed now – not with you – but with himself. “Should’ve thought to ask why you seemed so skittish.” He drops a brief kiss on the top of your head.

“Andy…”

“I’m sorry, Baby Girl.” He grunts, pulling away so that he can get a good look at your face. “No–” He continues when you open your mouth to interrupt. “I should’ve been paying better attention. That’s on me.” He takes a moment to whisper his sensual, full lips over your own.

“It’s okay.” You assure him before pressing a tender kiss on his left pec, just above his heart. “I probably should’ve said something earlier. It was just…I guess I was embarrassed.” You finish with a shrug.

“Why?” He cocks his head to the side as he patiently waits for you to answer. Although it was hard to read his expression in the dark, you knew he was genuinely curious.

“Because it’s a stupid.” You mumble a few seconds later. “It’s stupid and I’m stupid for–”

“No it’s not.” Andy swiftly interjects. “And no you’re not. So please let that be the last time I hear you refer to yourself that way.” His gruff tone leaves little room for argument, not that you were in the mood anyway. Seconds later, another clap of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning, has you diving back into the safety of his arms.

“Fuck.” Pissed at himself, he quickly wraps his arms around you before gently rocking you back and forth in an effort to calm you down. “When did it start?” More thunder booms overhead the whole house, loud enough to shake the whole house.

Andy frowns when he hears the tiny whimper that escapes your throat. .

“It’s silly.” You warn, even as you close your eyes and force yourself to take a deep breath.

“Try me.”

He’d stay up all night if that’s what it took to get you to talk. The last thing he wanted was for you to shut down on him. Again.

“Please.”

Guess that was your cue to start spilling your guts.

“Wh–when I was a little girl, I couldn’t have been more than six or seven, there was this really bad storm. I mean later we would find out that tornadoes had touched down all over the region. But that night – I swear the rain was coming down so hard it sounded like hundreds of baseballs were being pelted against the roof. And the wind was blowing so hard that it kept rattling windows.”

“Mmhm.” The small, noncommittal sound rumbles from somewhere deep within his chest, spurring you forward.

“So my dad woke us all up, me and my siblings, and herded us down to the basement. I guess he’d been watching the news and figured we’d be safer there. My mom had laid out blankets and sleeping bags for us. At first it seemed kinda fun – almost like we were camping out.”

Another bright flash of light briefly illuminates the bedroom, but you’re too engrossed in your story to really care. Plus, you had Andy to keep you safe. Nothing bad ever seemed to happen when you were with Andy.

At least not so far.

“I could see that.” Your boyfriend affirms, before giving your hip a light squeeze. “Bet you probably had a cool sleeping bag.”

“I totally did. I actually had one of those Disney character sleeping bags.” The memory makes you smile as your initial anxiety begins to lessen. “Come to think of it, we all did. But mine had Genie from Aladdin on the front of it. I remember because I got to pick it out myself.”

“I knew I had the right idea when I invited you out tonight.” Andy muses, brushing his mouth against your curls once more.

“Yeah, Big Man. I’m a Disney girl. And I sure did love that sleeping bag.” You take a moment to lace your fingers through his, needing the connection. “Which was why I climbed right on in and let my mother zip me up. At that point, I think my little sister started crying or something, so I let her crawl inside with me. After that she went right to sleep.”

“But I’m guessing you didn’t.”

“Nope.” Your grip on his hand tightens, but your man doesn’t pull away. Even so, you allow your thumb to sweetly caress along the ridges of his knuckles. “I stayed wide awake for what felt like hours just…listening. Listening as the wind picked up, as the thunder got louder and louder. Until it became so loud that it sounded like the storm was happening right above our house. And then suddenly there was this crash that shook the entire house – almost like a bomb went off.”

“Listen, I know sometimes storms can seem–”

“It was a tree.” You quietly forge on. “The storm had knocked down a tree. It fell through the roof, into the room I shared with my sister. Of course nobody was hurt, but ever since then I’ve been terrified of thunderstorms.” You finish, somehow feeling even more foolish than when you’d first started.

“Holy shit.” Andy exhales before briefly nuzzling your nose with his own. It was a simple stress touch, nothing more. But at this particular moment, it means everything. “I mean, I’m sure this probably goes without saying, but I’m so glad you weren’t in there when it happened. You or your sister.”

Wordlessly you nod, still wishing that you’d found a way to make it home tonight after all. Come tomorrow you’d finally bite the bullet and start looking for a therapist. Perhaps it was finally time you found a way to move past some of your childhood trauma. And maybe then–

Your thoughts are interrupted by the deep, rich timbre of Andrew Barber’s voice.

“I’m afraid of clowns.” Your boyfriend grunts in a very matter of fact tone. “And spiders.” He tacks on with a slight grimace. “Can’t get near either one of them without breaking into hives.”

“Oh.” Is all you can manage, clearly surprised by his sudden openness. You hadn’t been expecting that at all. “So I‘m guessing anything to do with Pennywise is probably – ahh shit!” You cry out when the familiar sound of thunder makes you lose your train of thought, leaving you unable to finish your small attempt at humor.

Almost immediately, you feel two strong arms band themselves around your waist, drawing you closer even as you try your damnedest to scramble away. You throw off the covers before attempting to swing your legs over the side of the bed so that you can make a mad dash in the direction of the basement.

“Hold on, baby.” Andy growls, wincing when your elbow accidentally connects with his ribs. “Just settle down for a second, okay? We’re gonna get through this, I promise.”

“Nope – I’m good! Just let me go, please.” Instead of doing as you ask, he flips your bodies, using his considerable weight to keep you still. “I’m serious, Andrew!” You tell him, thumping his back with your fist for good measure.

“Hush.” He takes advantage of your positions long enough to glide his lips along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “Just focus on me – on us – and let everything else fade away.”

Hmph. Easier said than done, handsome.

Andy gifts you with a glimpse of his pearly white teeth before slanting his hungry mouth over your own. He moans into the kiss, gently sucking on your bottom lip and releasing it with a slight pop. When you don’t respond he does it again, this time tracing the curve of your lips with his sinful tongue.

“But what if –.”

“Shh.” Your boyfriend pauses his sensual assault long enough to stare down at you while he braces himself on his forearms. “You have my word that nothing bad is gonna happen while I’ve got you here, with me, in this bed. We’re safe, Baby Girl.” He then angles his head to nip along your jaw. “Let me show you.”

“Do you trust me?” Where had you heard that before?

“I…” You trail off as he continues to nip at your heated flesh, paying special attention to the sensitive shell of your ear. “Y–yes.”

“Good.”

Apparently that’s all the permission Andrew Barber needs, because the next thing you know he’s sliding one large hand up your thigh, his lightly calloused palm sending pinpricks of pleasure straight to your core. Seconds later, you both are treated to the sounds of tearing fabric.

Well, there went your panties. They’d been shredded to hell just like every other pair that went before it.

Next up is your shirt. He manages to whip it over your head with relative ease before resting his delicious weight on top of you once more. Clad in only his boxers, he makes a show of grinding rapidly hardening cock against your damp pussy.

“Andy.” You whine, wantonly arching your hips in time with his thrusts. “Don’t tease me right now.”

“Why not?” He purrs as a hand moves to fist itself in your hair, wrenching your head back with just enough force to make you feel dizzy with lust.

Reaching up, you capture his face between your hands to pull him down for another kiss. The scruff of his neatly trimmed beard feels so good against your skin.

“Fuck me, please.” You hiss, seeking a much needed distraction as a flash of lightning threatens to send you running for the hills. Since this man wouldn’t let you leave, your next best option was to let him bury his thick cock inside you so hard and so deep until you no longer had the capacity to think.

Or walk properly, for that matter.

“Your wish is my command, baby.” Your boyfriend groans as he continues to circle his hips. With that said, he then makes quick work of removing his boxers before tossing him aside in the direction of his hamper. He misses, of course. Which is why you silently vow to pick it up later.

Now freed from its confines, you watch Andy’s impressive manhood immediately spring to attention, lightly smacking his abdomen as it bobs up and down.

Good God, you’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your mouth water.

His mouth curves into a roguish grin as he purposely slides himself between your slippery folds. He revels in your wetness, loving the way your slick coats his aching cock. Shit – if he wasn’t careful he risked blowing his load before it was time.

Which absolutely would not work. You always came first. That was the rule. There were no exceptions, unless you were playing a game or something.

Reaching over you, Andy grabs a foil packet from his nightstand. Tearing it open with his teeth, you lean back on your elbows while he handles his business with the condom. Maybe next time he’d allow you to put it on for him. You’d always wanted to try…

You also weren’t quite sure of exactly when he’d gone and removed his boxers, but you also weren’t complaining either.

“Now, sweetheart.” Your man begins as he takes a hold of your calf, tenderly draping it over his muscled shoulder as the wheel continues to howl outside. “All you’ve gotta do is lay back and focus on how good you feel.” He leans forward so that he can trace his tongue around your nipple before sucking the delicate flesh into his waiting mouth.

Your back bows as you thrust your chest forward in silent offering. Andy groans as continues to toy with your pouting nipple before switching to the other. You let out a sharp cry as he brings the pebbled tip in his mouth, lightly pinching it between his teeth just hard enough to make you writhe beneath him.

That’s part of what always made this feel so good. The way he always seemed to mix pleasure with a little bit of pain.

His mouth eventually finds yours again as your hands smooth their way over the blades of his shoulders, allowing you to run your fingers along the contour of his muscles. And when you finally reach the firm globes of his ass, you can’t help but giggle as you finally give into the temptation to smack it. Hard.

Just the way he liked it.

“Remember, sweet brat. If I’m gonna wear your handprint then I think it’s only fair you wear mine too. Understand?” Of course he doesn’t wait for you to answer. Instead he maneuvers himself up so that he can expertly flip you over onto your stomach before pulling you up so that you’re now resting on your hands and knees before him.

Instinctively you arch your ass in the air, inviting him to make good on his promise. This man loved spanking your ass every chance he got. And what’s more, you seemed to enjoy it almost as much as he did.

“Now be a good girl and put your hands where they’re supposed to go.”

A small shiver of anticipation courses through as you move to obey. He chuckles softly as he watches your eager fingers grip the headboard. Later he would tell you how proud of you he was in that moment, that he was honored by your faith in his ability to distract you from the violent storm taking place right outside his window.

It meant the world that you trusted him enough to take care of you at a time like this.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” Andy purrs as the heavy weight of his palm comes down on your upturned rear with just enough force to make your naughty pussy gush. Unable to stop it, you can’t help the groan you emit when he does it again, loving the way he kneads and caresses your most intimate curves.

“So are you.”

Your body jerks when he decides to focus his attention on your greedy little cunt. Nimble fingers spear you open as they between your glistening folds to tease your throbbing clit. It’s not long before your hips begin moving in time with his ministrations.

Soon your eyes flutter closed as you bear down, shamelessly grinding yourself against his calloused palm. At first, Andy is content to simply watch as you slowly work yourself into a frenzy.

Because this time, when the sound of thunder crackles throughout the room, you barely react. In fact, you hardly hear it. You’re too engrossed in the pleasure, too caught up in just how good your man is making you feel, to remember to be afraid.

“Easy, greedy girl.” Andy hums after another beat goes by before finally removing his hand. The fucking bastard.

“Nooo!” You whine, hating the way your impending orgasm lingers just out of reach.

"Yeees.” There’s a slight mocking edge to his tone that has you glancing over your shoulder to shoot him a glare.

“Swear to God you’re so fucking beautiful. Even when you’re trying to turn me into dust.” He winks at you then before allowing his hands to settle on your hips. Goosebumps pebble across your sweat-dampened flesh when you feel the head of his impressive cock nudge at your entrance.

“Please.Please.Please.” That one word is whispered over and over, like a fervent prayer.

Just then, a stroke of lightning brightens the room, treating you to a fleeting glimpse of your man right as he thrusts himself inside of you, all the way to the hilt. Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head as he forces you to take every deliciously thick inch of his cock, stretching your tight pussy until you can’t help clench around him.

Andy starts off slow, gradually building up the pace as your velvety walls continue to milk him for all he’s worth. His fingers dig into your curves as you rear back to match his movements. Soon, he adjusts the angle of his thrusts, allowing him to go even deeper.

“S’good, Andy!Fuuuck!” You moan as Andy continues fucking you into oblivion. “Yes!Harder, pleeease!”

“My baby wants it harder?” He growls, adjusting his position to give you exactly what you asked for. A desperate sob bubbles up from your throat, prompting you to bury your face in a nearby pillow.

Too bad your man is having none of it.

“Oh no.” One large hand moves to wrap itself around the delicate column of your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your pulse spike. “You don’t get to hide that pretty face from me. Not tonight.” He grunts before allowing his free arm to encircle your waist to haul you against the hard wall of his chest.

A hand soon finds its way to your breast. He lifts the tempting weight, before plucking at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger, evoking the most exquisite sensations.

“You’re doing so good, Baby Girl.” Andy rasps, tweaking his angle so that he can find your spot. “So good. Told you I’d keep you safe.” The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh echo throughout the room, creating an erotic tempo. “Would never let anything bad happen to you.”

Your boyfriend’s Boston accent grows thicker and more pronounced with each passing second – letting you know that he’s close to losing control. That’s when you decide to push him closer to the brink by reaching behind you to pull his head down for a kiss. It’s hot, wet, and deep. And by the time you both come up for air your heart is hammering in your chest.

“I…I know.” And you did know.

Tipping your chin back, you allow your walls to flutter around his fat cock, making him twitch. Your core begins to spasm as you feel the coil in your belly tighten even more. Andy makes sure to keep a tight hold on your sweat-slicked body as his lips continue to whisper kisses along the curve of your jaw.

White hot pleasure dances along your skin, meanwhile Andy’s thrusts continue to grow more and more erratic with each passing minute. One of your hands slips from the headboard to help keep you upright.

“Cum, princess. Give it to me.” He snarls through clenched teeth before reaching down to deliver a slap to your pussy. It feels so good that you beg him to do it again and again. “Be a good girl and fucking cum!”

That’s all you need to hear before you go tumbling over the edge and into bliss. “Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!” Ecstasy slices through you, making you cry out loud enough to wake the neighbors. Thank goodness there was a storm going on outside, otherwise someone might’ve taken it upon themselves to call the police.

Chest heaving, you continue bouncing on your man’s cock. He felt so amazing it bordered on obsession. And you knew he’d feel even better once you had him in your mouth. Andy shudders behind you, his big body trembling with the force of his orgasm.

Completely spent, you both flop down on the bed. You’re both naked and sweaty, but neither of you really cares all that much. You curl up in his arms, resting on his chest so that you can listen to the soothing sound of his heartbeat.

“You okay?” Andy murmurs a little while later when he notices that your eyes have begun to droop. “Do you need me to–”

“Mm…” You purr, stretching your arms above your head as you stifle a lawn. “I’m thinking I need some more of that. Like tonight.”

You grow quiet once you realize that you no longer hear the sound of the rain. Or the wind. Or the thunder. All is as it should be. Thank goodness.

“Give me ten minutes to refuel and I’m all yours.” He grunts before disposing of his used condom in a nearby garbage can..

“Thank you.” You mumble, feeling your cheeks heat. “For tonight, for what you did.”

“Not sure if I did much of anything.” Andy smiles down at you, his brilliant blue eyes filled with sincerity. “You’re always safe with me, princess. So just relax."

“I believe you, Andy. But the storm –"

“Is about over. We fucked right through it, baby.” You don’t have to look up at him to know that he’s got some kind of shit-eating grin plastered across his handsome features. "But most of all, thank you for trusting me with your secret.”

“Thank you for not laughing.“ Your hand reaches up to stroke your knuckles along his bearded jaw.

“Hm.” Andy mutters. “Maybe next time we’ll have to try making love in the rain. What do you think, princess?”

“Um, baby steps, Andrew.” You counter, expertly dodging his first question. “Let’s go smaller. I’m talking waaay smaller.”

“Fine. I’ll settle for a kiss during a light drizzle.” Your boyfriend concedes, laughter and warmth suffusing his tone.

“Consider it done, handsome.” You mumble as sleep threatens to overtake you.

Later, Andy would tell you that he let you fall asleep that night on purpose. Your earlier anxiety had really done a number on you, which is why he was content to let you rest. Instead of complaining, he holds you close, silently willing his heart to beat in time with your own.

And when you wake in the middle of the night, cocooned in the safety of your man’s arms, you know without question that you are cherished beyond measure.

END

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tragedybunny · 8 months

Text

Sunlight and Stars in the Sky - Astarion x F!Reader

I've been at this so long I'm not even sure if it is any good, but it's as finished as it will get I suppose. It ventured into angst a little more than I had planned and I'm thinking there may be a part two. But anyway, here's the end up with the nicknames they use for each other in my other fics.

The Githyanki Creche is not the promised salvation and you deal with it by trying to drink your problems away. Astarion ends up taking care of you and starts to deal with his feelings and the fallout of his actions.

Unsteady footsteps came up behind him as he stood by the dying fire, in another life that would make you a perfect target. “‘Starion,” you said in a little sing-song voice from behind him.

“Yes, my Sweet,” turning, he’s already wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. From the footsteps he could tell you’d been drinking. The Githyanki Creche hadn’t turned out to be the salvation you had hoped for. Some of your companions were taking it worse than others, Lae’zel was in her tent, talking to no one, and you, you were piss drunk.

“I hate this,” you lean into his chest and despite the grim reality, he feels an odd sense of contentment.

“I’m sure nobody is particularly enjoying the moment but-” He was cut off as your lips started to kiss their way along his collarbone.

“You know what could make it better…” Teeth suddenly nip him and he jumps involuntarily while you giggle, you put him on edge lately for some reason. “A quick little tumble in the bedroll.”

Just the thought of taking you in this state of inhibition, so little control over yourself, makes his stomach turn. A small part of him asks if you ever have control given his lies, viciously he kicks that part back down. “Not tonight, my little Snack, you are far too drunk.”

The pout you reply with is impressive. “Aw, don’t you like me anymore?” Despite your clear inebriation, the words are like a blow and he’s lost for a moment.

“Of course I do.” Instinctively, he pulls you closer, only for your fingers to start fumbling with his trousers. Gently he takes your hands and holds them away from himself. “Alright, I think it's clear you need some water and to lay down."

"I'm fine." You push away from him and wobble dangerously before ending up on your butt in the dirt. "Ow," dejectedly, you stay where you landed until your shoulders quiver and he worries tears are next.

Sighing, he reaches down and scoops you up in his arms, looking you over to make sure you didn't hurt yourself. "How about a deal Darling," he can't believe what he's about to say, "you agree to lay down nicely and get some sleep and I'll let you stay in my tent tonight?"

"Really? You never…" The two of you have never shared space for more than a perfunctory few minutes after sex, and usually Astarion very much prefers it that way. But you're a drunk emotional mess and you just seem to need him and that small part of him that he keeps pushing away wants to help you. "I don't want to, gods what's the word, im-im-"

"Impose?" The way you nod silently without looking up plants a strange sensation in his chest. "Don't be silly, you're my partner aren't you? How could you be imposing?" Softly he kisses your forehead and starts toward his tent.

As he settles you gingerly among his blankets you look around with wide eyes as though surprised to be here. "It's so red," you giggle before slowly laying back and staring at him as he gently removes your boots.

At least you had ceased your attempt at erotic pursuits for the moment. "I'll get you some water, you need to stay up long enough to drink it."

It only takes a few moments for him to retrieve your waterskin from your tent and return to find your eyes shut. He takes a brief second to just watch the way your chest rises and falls and the sublimely peaceful expression on your face. "Sweetheart," kneeling down next to you, he holds out the waterskin, "you need to drink some water."

Eyes slowly open and you sit up, making a little whining noise. "Fine." Taking the waterskin, you drink most of it in one go before lying back on your side facing him. "Happy?"

Your sudden aggressive tone makes him chuckle, of course he's seen you fight, but right now you're as threatening as a lost kitten. "You'll feel better for it in the morning, I promise."

"Mmm," already your eyes are closing again. "Lay next to me?"

The soft plea feels irresistible despite knowing he's feeding you another pretty lie and he shouldn't encourage this. If only you weren't so damnably kind to him all the time; his sweet sunny little half-elf, even from the moment you met, trying to help a stranger kill an Intellect Devourer; he wouldn’t feel so odd about everything. You’d fed him when he’d tried to bite you during your sleep, stood up for him after, protected him from the Gur, and listened to every rant and complaint with an open mind. Even during sex, you tried so hard to please him, to make him feel good too, readily experimenting with anything new, and offering up your throat time and again. The mask must have slipped a few times because once you’d very embarrassedly asked him after the act if you were a bad lover. He’d tried so hard to reassure you he was just having a bad day, afterall, it wasn’t your fault he couldn’t feel the same pleasure, but you still looked so sad for a long while afterward.

Cuddling up close to you, he wraps you both in his blankets, arms enfolding you, and can’t help but notice how perfectly you fit next to him, head tucked under his chin, like you were made to be there. Gods, what’s wrong with him? He lays a delicate kiss on the sensitive little tip of your pointed ear and you hum contendly. “Happy now, my little bit of Sunlight?” The pet name slips off his tongue, surprising even himself.

“Does that still mean I’m irritating,” you mumble softly and he puzzles over it before remembering.

Another moment of kindness from you. One of the first days after the Nautiloid, he’d seated himself so far away from everyone at the campfire, he was practically in the shadows when you came to sit next to him. “You can come closer to the fire Astarion, you don’t have to keep so separate.”

“I’m fine,” he’d snapped at you, panicking that anyone was so near to him so soon after escaping Cazador’s endless cruelty. Your mouth opened to answer back and he’d cut you off. “I said I’m fine, hells, you’re as irritating as the scorching summer sunlight.” You’d backed off but not before he’d seen the hurt in your eyes. The compliment feels as though it turned to ash in his mouth at the memory, he wishes he could take that night back. There's a lot of moments from those first days he wishes the same of.

“That was a very strange couple of days for me,” his fingers find your hair of their own accord and start brushing through it. “But no, I mean you’re bright and warm and beautiful,” and not meant for creatures like me, he adds silently. “Like Sunlight.”

Eyes opening, you tilt your head back to look up and study him for a moment, unexpectedly lucid. “And you're as wondrous and amazing as the whole night sky full of stars, and worth any bit of darkness.”

The words leave him stunned as you close your eyes and settle back against him. “You don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do, my Starry Sky,” you punctuate it with a kiss on his neck before drifting back in your half-asleep state.

There's an urge to retch and cry at the same time, what a farce he’s made of your affection. He holds you tighter, as if that could undo any of what he’s done. You deserve the truth, he knows that, but not tonight, because once you know, you'll despise him. A few more days, to soak you up, just like sunlight, and then he’ll slip back into the darkness he deserves, where there’s nothing to warm him.

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x f!reader #my fanfic #my writing

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dotster001 · 2 years

Note

Hi hi! I saw your requests were open so I had an idea for some Twst boys well Floyd, Jamil, Rook, and Vil, weird group I know but they're my faves

So I've been dealing with burnout recently with school and I can imagine MC being a lot worse with Crowley and all- How would the boys react if one day MC just- passed out, like just randomly with out prompting. So maybe some comfort fluff?

Take your time you're amazing!

(thank you for your patience boo. I know this has been in my inbox for a while. I hope your burnout is better, and if not I hope this provides a little levity)

Part Two Part Three

He's been so boooooooored lately. Shrimpy, why ya gotta spend all that time working for Crowley? You should be hanging out with him! But that's just kind of your way, and he knows he can't really stop you. So he mopes around the lounge while you're off doing who knows what.

When you stop by the Monstro Lounge, he is so fucking excited! It's the most alive he's seemed in weeks! But when you apologetically tell him that you're here to discuss food at the upcoming festival that Crowley has "graciously" allowed you to plan and manage with Azul, he gets pouty and storms off.

He walks into the VIP room to apologize to you just in time to see you collapse. He immediately is scooping you up, not even processing what Azul is trying to tell him.

He takes you to his room, clears the clutter off his bed, decides it's not clean enough for, then lays you on Jade's bed. He grabs his fluffiest blanket, and wraps you up in it. He doesn't want to leave your side, so he texts Jade to bring you a glass of water, and a mug of tea.

When he wakes up, he makes you drink both. He's a little intimidating about it, but it's just because he's worried and wants to make sure you feel better fast.

When you've drunk all that, he asks what happened. You tell him you've been so busy running around for this event, that you have had little time to take care of yourself, and your brain kind of shut itself off for a minute. He acts oddly calm during the explanation, then flops on top of you.

"I'm staying right here until you get some sleep, Shrimpy."

Once he's certain you are resting, he and Jade take a little trip to see a certain crow.

When you wake up, Floyd excitedly tells you that him and Jade are now your partners on the project! Yay! Floyd ends up doing a lot of the work, even without any prompting. It's a win win for him. You can take time to recover, and he has an excuse to be around you.

For some reason, when the event is over….your workload from Crowley is significantly smaller. How about that?

Jamil knew this school was run stupidly and inneficiently. But when Crowley makes you, a student, fill in for a teacher who is on his honeymoon, as a professor, that's when he's lost all faith in NRC.

He offers to help you immediately, but you insist that you can handle it. He tries to argue with you on it, but you tell him that he already has too much to do, and you'd hate yourself if he added your workload to his. He begrudgingly lets you alone about it for now. He doesn't want to distress you.

You're grading papers in the Scarabia kitchen when you pass out mid sentence. He's calm under pressure, so he sighs, and carries you to the lounge laying you on one of the lavish sofas the Asim family provided. (He guesses they are good for something)

Kalim chooses that moment to walk into the room, and immediately panics. Jamil let's him know things are under control, then sends him to get a cold cloth. When he returns he places that on your forehead, and waits.

The second your eyes are open, he initiates snake whisper. He asks how long you've been awake, and you tell him the truth. You haven't slept in 30 hours, due to grading the 100+ midterm papers that needed to be finished by the end of the week. You hadn't eaten in 12 hours, and at some point every paper was looking the same

Once he gets his information, he tells you he will be finishing the grading, and that after this you will not be helping Crowley until HE tells you it's a reasonable workload. Does he feel bad for hypnotizing you? Yes. Does he think this is the only way to make your brain take a break? Also Yes.

Once he releases you from the spell, he tells you you passed out, and that he's going to be taking care of you for a couple days. He sleeps on the floor while you take his bed. He stays up late and finishes the papers. He cooks you foods full of proteins to get your energy back up. He gives you warm milk with honey and cinnamon to help you sleep.

He tells Crowley that he hypnotized you, and you will no longer be doing what he says without Jamil screening the workload. Bird man pouts about having to actually do his job instead of dumping everything on you, but your workload becomes much more reasonable after that.

Vil would have to be very busy to not notice his sweet potato is not getting the rest they need.

That said, he'd had to take two weeks off school after his new fashion line had had some major set backs. While he was gone, Crowley had swooped in with the paperwork Vil usually did, added the paperwork he was supposed to be doing, and you'd fallen out of the self care routine that Vil had worked so hard to make a habit for you.

When he'd come back, he was working on his make up homework, while you were working on what he was horrified to find out late was his paperwork. He notices the bags under your eyes, and the way you rub them every couple minutes as though your vision is blurry, but he doesn't want to ruin what is the first moment he's had with you in two weeks. And it's so peaceful, the two of you quietly working in the same room. He's getting distracted by thinking about a future like this, when he feels you slump against him.

At first he thinks it's a bid for affection, which he is more than happy to give, but when you aren't responsive, he gets worried. He pulls out some smelling salts from his drawer (cause of course he has those) and once the smell brings you back to him, he runs his fingers along your scalp and asks what's been going on.

Once you tell him, he scowls, and walks into the bathroom for a moment. When he comes back, he tells you he's drawn you a bath. When you go into the bathroom, you see it's not only a bath, but a Bubble bath, where the bubble changed color and floated, and then popped in a shower of glitter.

Once you're in the bath, he puts a facemask on you, turns on some soothing music, and dims the lights. He assured you he will be back and leaves the bathroom. He stations Rook outside the bathroom door, because he knows he will hear it if something is wrong, then goes to yell at Crowley. (He's mortified when he finds out half of it was his paperwork)

He comes back to his room, and Rook tells him he can tell by your breathing that you are peacefully snoozing in the bath. Vil re-enters as Rook leaves, and wakes you up. He helps you finish cleaning up, then lets you borrow his softest pajamas. He makes you a smoothie, then holds you close, running his fingers through your hair, and pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head, until you drift off. He's taking you with him on his next business trip.

Like Vil, there would have to be extreme circumstances for Rook to not have stopped you before the point of collapse. (In fact, we're going to work with that idea)

All the janitors had gone on strike. (Surprise) Luckily for Crowley, he had a perfect non magical student who would be so generous to fill in since their food, board, and classes were all free.

It was a job for multiple magic users, not ONE magicless student. You made it halfway through the day, before Rook gave up just stalking you, and decided to discuss how shaky your muscles had gotten and how you hadn't taken a lunch break yet.

He seductively backs you against a chair to trick you into sitting down for a moment, and then gracefully sits in your lap…and refuses to get up. His petit lapin will not work themselves to exhaustion. That wouldn't be very beautiful.

He texts Epel to bring you both lunch. You think once you eat, he will let you continue cleaning, despite how sore your body is. You are so silly! It's adorable that you would think that! He giggles then kisses your forehead. And that's when it fully hits you how trapped you are.

He carries you off to his room, and makes you lay down while he massages your tired muscles. You get lulled into complacency while he does so. He thinks it's adorable how safe you feel near a hunter such as himself.

Once your body is fully restored, you both pay a visit to Crowley, where Rook's eyes go dark, despite his ever present smile, and he tells him in no uncertain terms that you will not be a janitor, and that if your finances were truly an issue, he could take it up with Rook.

While Crowley would normally jump on any opportunity for money like that, Rook's eyes have a silent warning in them. Not that you notice. You're just enamored with your boyfriend acting as your knight in shining armor. Just the way he likes it.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0

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just-jordie-things · 7 months

Note

If possible, could you please do cuddling headcannons? Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to or can't for any reason at all

remember to drink water and take breaks <3

YES YES YES I CAANNNN also i need to start incorporating choso into these brainrots ok so pls feel free to send stuff specifically for him if y'all have thoughts and ino too i love him sm

gojo satoru

sleep cuddler and there's no escaping from it

he's happy with being the big or little spoon, happy if you wanna lay on his chest, he doesn't care how it happens but he needs it mkay

hopefully you don't overheat bc if you try to scooch away from him he will be heartbroken

he likes to tease about it but really he just loves the feeling of you falling soundly asleep in his arms. loves how you snuggle into him in your sleep

fushiguro megumi

likes it when you rest your head in his lap.

whether he's reading or finishing up a report, it's comforting to have you there. sometimes you scroll through your phone and sometimes you go straight into a nap, he doesn't mind what you do. he just likes to have you close whenever he can

one day you make him lay on your lap while you're both lounging on the couch and he probably laughs at you when he complies

but then he settles into your thighs and you run your hands through his hair and he's out like baby in minutes

so now it's your guys' thing <3

itadori yuuji

likes to have you on his lap

it's his favorite thing to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to his chest. it's so warm and comfortable

will set his chin on your shoulder as you watch a movie or something

definitely whispers in your ear one minute but then is yelling at the tv the next. the whispering is sweet though

kisses your cheek a lot too, you're just so close he can't help it

inumaki toge

prefers to smother you a bit

it was a joke at first, the night he climbed on top of you and went boneless just to hear you laugh

but it was actually so comfy for the both of you that he sorta just stayed there. like a heavy blanket.

wraps his arms around you and tucks his face into your neck and snoozes

he loves feeling your heart beating against his chest. it's the most comforting thing in the world

okkotsu yuuta

if he could have you on top of him 24/7, he'd gladly accept it.

can only sleep if you're on his chest. not just your head, either. your whole body.

he will not be content until your legs are a tanlged mess and your hair is messily sprawled out across his chest.

he needs easy access to kissing your head a million times throughout the night

this goes for casual cuddling too. you're watching a movie together? get on top of him.

if he can't actively lay down, he'll just pick you up and hold you against his chest, just high enough that you can't touch the ground and have to cling to him

when he's on missions away from you, he sleeps holding a pillow against him, but it's not the same :(

kamo choso

likes being a little spoon AND I'LL DIE ON THIS HILL OKAY

he's never been held before he had no idea the amount of comfort having someone's arms around you could feel, and i think he'd be shy about it at first but once he's more comfortable with asking for what he wants, he'll ask for it all the time

you press so close, warming up his back with your chest and pushing your feet between his legs just to get closer

loves when it's late and you're whispering to one another, how you press your lips to his spine and shoulder blades, or rub the tip of your nose affectionately against his skin.

with your arms wrapped around him he can easily hold both of your hands in one of his, and he always keeps them close to his chest all night

takuma ino

finishing off strong with big spoon lover

holding you is the greatest part of his every day, and he's not afraid to tell you. he'll text you on particularly rough/slow days just to tell you how he can't wait till you're in his arms again

if you get into bed and don't automatically settle against him, he will drag you into his embrace. there's no getting out of it

always tucks his face into the nape of your neck, smelling your hair and kissing your skin as he quietly tells you how much he missed you all day

wraps his arms around you and holds you tight against his chest all night. he can't stand to be apart from you anymore than he has to.

#satoru brainrot #megumi brainrot #yuuji brainrot #toge brainrot #yuuta brainrot #choso brainrot #ino brainrot #gojo satoru x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #inumaki toge x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #kamo choso x reader #choso x reader #takuma ino x reader #jjk #jujtusu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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ohimsummer · 7 months

Text

✎ . . . relationship things with JJK men

— suggestive/sexual mentions so minors dni, fem! reader, size kink in toji’s if you squint, mostly fluff/domestic type stuff?, just what it’s like being in a relationship with them, (choso girlies starve 2day I’m sawry idk how to write for him yet)

⊹ ࣪ ˖ being with SATORU means having a late start to your day because he likes to sleep in, and that means you have to sleep in with him, and he wraps his arms so tight around your waist like you’re his teddy bear and buries his face in your neck to “stay warm” even though he runs hot like a heater, him taking you on impromptu dates because he’s bored, random trips to whatever extravagant area because he’s going to spoil you (and then tease about how spoiled you are but he wouldn’t have it any other way), him whining at you whenever you tell him no about anything because that means you don’t love him anymore, him surprising you with expensive clothes and jewelry, him going “baby!!!” whenever he’s been away from you for more than ten minutes and engulfing you in a big bear hug (one where he picks you up and twirls you ‘round and ‘round), him gladly helping himself to your drinks and snacks (and expects you to do the same with his), him being such a bad influence on you and your decisions, him smothering your face in kisses with a big “mmmwah!” because he’s so so loudly in love with you, even if he doesn’t always say it because it shows so clearly in his eyes.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ being with SUGURU means him doting on you without it feeling like he’s doting on you (“you plan on drinking sodas all day or do you want a glass of water?”), and being so comfortable sitting in silence and just enjoying each others presence, and showing eachother songs and music and making a playlist together of songs you both enjoy, him letting his hands wander not even in a sexual way but just because he loves touching you, him giving you gentle kisses on the forehead and down your cheeks, and along your jaw just to chomp you right on the neck because you bit him first earlier, him being a body pillow bf because he just lays there and does his own thing while you sprawl out on top of him, him letting you brush his hair when he’s too tired or frustrated to bother with it, trying new recipes together and he’s eyeing you so suspiciously because “You don’t think that’s just a little too much seasoning….?” and then he turns away to hide his laughter when you eventually try it and go into a coughing fit (but the shake of his shoulders gives him away), and of course he has to say “I told you so”, but jokes on him because now he’s having a sneezing fit from all the pepper in the air.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ being with TOJI is having pointless arguments just because he likes to fight, him claiming “you look so cute when you’re all mad at me”, him “making it up to you” by folding you over the next available surface until you’re begging him to just accept your forgiveness, him having an arm around your waist as you sleep and his grips grows tighter when you try to get up in the morning because “where do you think you’re goin, doll?”, him scaring off anyone who even thinks about you wrong with just one glance, him throwing you over his shoulder and giving your ass a little pat, him side-eyeing you (who’s trying not to laugh) because how did he burn the food while standing right there in front of the stove, him holding you tight as you straddle his lap and layer kisses all over his face, him only having to lift an eyebrow when you say slick shit because you must’ve forgotten who you were talking to, him giving the most insincere “oops” after he rips another pair of your panties, him manhandling you in bed because look at the size of you compared to him, how could he not?

⊹ ࣪ ˖ being with NANAMI means coming back to dinner already cooked if he gets home before you do, him hugging you from behind and kissing the back of your head and gently swaying your hips back and forward, him coming home tired and stressed and just wanting to get on his knees to indulge in you, him confused on why you’re giggling at him in the morning (he has one of the worst bedheads EVER), him making you sandwiches with whatever bread he’s baked recently, him pretending to “give in” when you want a quickie but he’s the one making it last so much longer, sneaking up behind him on the couch and leaning his head back to give him forehead kisses, snuggling together under a blanket on the couch or balcony like a little old married couple, him just smiling at you who’s dressed in his oversized shirt, him wiping your makeup off or changing you into pajamas when you passed out before getting a chance, him cradling you into his chest as you both drift off to sleep and mindlessly whispering sweet nothings against the crown of your head.

#jjk fluff #jjk x reader fluff #satoru gojo fluff #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto fluff #nanami kento fluff #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro fluff #satoru gojo x reader #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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houseofanticipation · 9 months

Text

You've always been an outdoor person. You're a camper, a hiker, an explorer. You feel at home in this forest; miles upon miles of trees in every direction, the only hints of civilization a handful of campgrounds and the odd ranger station. Years of experience have made you comfortable here, in the cool, quiet air.

Maybe too comfortable.

It's late morning when you first notice someone behind you on the trail. You don't see them when you look back. You just their footsteps, the sound of cracking twigs and crunching leaves. You expect them to pass you, as you're taking a pretty leisurely pace, but the footsteps always seem to be about 20 feet behind you. You start to get annoyed. This person's thousand-pound feet are ruining your nice, quiet walk. You step to the side of the trail and wait the person to pass.

And so do they.

That makes you nervous. You start walking again, and they walk with you. You stop, they stop. You begin to think you might be in trouble. Careful to keep the noise at you front, you take the folded trail map out of your pocket and begin to scan it. There's a ranger station not far ahead; if you can just make it that far, you might be safe.

You break into a brisk walk, and your pursuer keeps pace. This trail was made intentionally with a lot bends in it, so each hiker or group of hikers could feel like the wilderness was their own, without running into many other people. It means your pursuer can stay relatively close to you without ever entering your line of sight. You're close now, you recognize the little footbridge over this creek, so you break into a run, skidding on mud and dried leaves as you make a mad dash for safety. The footsteps crash through the forest behind you, and you're too afraid to turn around but you're sure they're gaining on you. You see the ranger station up ahead, a little log cabin with a green door, and you practically fly up the front steps, through the unlocked door. You slam it shut behind you and throw the deadbolt, sliding down the door in a mess of exhaustion and nerves.

The ranger station consists of a single room, with a ladder up to a small loft space where the ranger sleeps. You were hoping to find help, but the ranger isn't here at the moment. That's okay. Just the locked door on its own makes you feel a lot better. You listen intently for any sound outside, but all you hear is birdsong, and wind through the trees.

Then someone is trying to turn the door handle. The sound makes you jump, but you try to stay brave. You're still safe. They can't get in.

You hear a man's voice on the other side of the door. "Hello?"

You summon your courage and call back. "Leave me alone! What do you want from me?"

The voice sounds surprised. "I...I don't want anything from you ma'am. It's just...well, you're kind of in my office." You get to your hands and knees and crawl to the front window, just peeking over the sill. Outside is a flustered looking man in a ranger uniform. Relief floods your body. You let him in.

"Thank god," he says. "I'm not supposed to leave the station unlocked, I thought at first some teenagers had gotten in here and...hey, what's wrong?" He's seen the look in your eyes, the way you're still panting, the state of your hair. You explain to him about the footsteps, the chase through the woods, how you hid here for safety. His eyes grow wider with your every word. "Shit, that's terrible. Drink some water, get yourself hydrated while I check around out there." He offers you his canteen. You begin to tell him you have your own water, but he waves you off. "No, no, I can't let you use your own rations. I've got extra water reserves here just for unprepared hikers, I won't run out. Please."

You take the canteen and drink, sitting on a hard folding chair while the ranger goes back outside. Now that you think about it, you're actually incredibly thirsty. You finish off the ranger's canteen, and feel a little bad about it, but he seemed insistent that you should have it.

You're exhausted. It had already been a long day of hiking, and then you went and spent the rest of your energy running through the forest. You were probably overreacting, you think as your eyelids begin to droop. Maybe it was just an illusion, your own footsteps somehow echoed back to you by the forest. In the warmth and safety of the ranger station, the fear you felt before seems almost silly.

Your limbs feel sluggish and disconnected. Your head seems to be full of rocks. Your eyelids fall closed, and you're out before you hit the floor.

You come to little by little, slowly becoming aware of several odd sensation at once. The first thing you notice is that you feel good. Incredible, actually. You're having trouble wrapping your head around why exactly—you're having trouble putting thoughts together, connecting raw sensation to ideas or meanings. But you like how you're feeling, you know that much.

There's more to it though, because you also hurt, which you don't like. There's something rough pressing up against your back, and your arms and legs are sore. You're cold, too, colder than you've been in a long time, and a cool wind stings your bare skin. Why is your skin bare?

You open your eyes. You're in a forest clearing, a place you recognize. It's a popular camping spot, secluded but not far from the trail. You're on a tree—tied to it, you realize, that's the rough thing on your back, and the reason you're so sore. Coils of rope around your wrists are pulling your arms up and behind you, like you're giving the tree a backwards hug. Something similar is happening with your legs, and a rope across your throat is keeping you from pointing your head down.

You are naked.

The ranger is there, leaning into you, and for a confused moment you think he's trying to untie you, but then the whole picture suddenly falls into place. He is raping you, slowly and indulgently, moaning openly as he slides cock up and down, in and out of your pussy. Fear jolts you awake, your fight-or-flight response taking control, but you you have no way to fight and now means of fleeing. You begin to scream, thrashing against your bonds, but they're solid and secure. You're not going anywhere.

"Oh good you're...oh!...awake," says the ranger, still inside you. "I have to tell you, I thought you looked cute when I decided to follow you, but I had no idea you'd be this...o...oh, fuck...this good. I think you've got the tightest little cunt I've ever fucked."

Just because that pleasurable feeling isn't wanted anymore doesn't mean it's going away. With every thrust of the ranger's cock, the feeling builds inside you, threatening to spill over. "Please," you whimper. You can't cum, not here, not to this. "Please stop, let me go."

The ranger grins and looks at you. He gives you an extra deep thrust and you moan in spite of yourself, your muscles contracting and your pussy tightening around him. "Why would I...oh, fuck that's good...why would I stop when you're clearly enjoying this just as much as I am?"

Tears stream down your face. You can't control it now. Waves of tension wash your body, each one making you seize tighter, arching your back, straining your bonds. As the final wave crashes over you the ranger gives one last moan and buries his face in your neck, his cum seeming to warm your shivering body from the inside. You go limp, wobbly, all the tension draining from your body with the cum that spills forth as he withdraws his cock.

The ranger buckles up his pants and leans over, hands on his knees, panting. "Fuck, girl. I can't just keep that cunt to myself. People need to know!" He goes behind you somewhere, and you can hear leaves rustle. When he comes back he holds a stake in his hand: a signpost, with a printed metal sign attached. He shows it to you:

Elk Trail Cum Dump

The park thanks you for your patronage. Feel free to use this receptacle as you see fit.

"I had this made up a few years back." Says the ranger as he hammers it into the ground in front of you. "We've had a handful of cum dumps, but I'll tell you what, you're definitely the best." He looks you up and down, then steps forward and sticks his middle and index fingers up inside you. You tighten reflexively, and he whistles. "Fuuuck me that's good! Alright, I'll probably be back tonight with some friends. New cum dump always attracts some attention. Stay tight, honey." He gives your cheek a little slap and walks away.

It hurts for a while. The bark against your skin. The ropes digging into you. Your shoulders, supporting your weight for so long. But after your sixth hour or so it all just fades into a general, dispassionate numbness.

People walk by sometimes. You hear them on the trail and call out for help. They come, usually but they don't help. A pair of young women laugh and take selfies with their fingers in your pussy. And old man rapes you breathlessly while is wife rolls her eyes and laughs good-naturedly. A middle aged woman with a big backpack says she's going to help you out, which turns out to mean producing a vibrator and giving you the most mind-melting, earth-shattering orgasm of your life, before saying a polite goodbye and leaving you tied up.

When your bladder gets full you just piss right there. It's not a bad way to do it, really; with your legs pulled back like this, you manage not to get much on you. You're a little more concerned about what happens when you need to shit, but you suppose there's a chance you can hold it until you die of hunger or thirst.

A man with a bushy beard gives you a long look before leaving and coming back with a long branch, one end whittled barkless and smooth. He inserts the smooth end into your pussy and sets the other end on the ground, held up only by your natural grip. He instructs you to bounce up and down on it while he masturbates. It's a little thick for you, but it actually feels pretty good, and you try to put on a good show for him as thanks. He lets you keep in there when he leaves, as a way to pass the hours.

You fall asleep just as the sun is setting. You find if you rest your head against the tree just so, you can relax without it falling forward and choking you on the rope across your neck. When you wake again it's full night, and someone has built a little fire in a circle of stones. A dozen or so men are lounging around, laughing, chatting, drinking beers out of a cooler. And raping you of course, but you barely even notice that now. All it really means to you is that someone took away your nice stick.

The ranger is among the men, though he's out of uniform. He raises a beer to you when he sees you're awake. "Welcome back to the land of the living! My buddies here are loving that little pussy of yours."

"You shouldn't have open flames out here," you croak, your throat dry. "You could start a...a...ah! Forest fire." Your sentence is interrupted when the man currently inside you does a strange sort of twisting thing you don't quite understand, and the jolt of pleasure takes you by surprise.

"Ah, fuck you," says the ranger. "Which of us here is the park ranger and which is the cum dump? I know my way around a fire."

"If you say so," you say as the man adds another load of cum to your collection.

He's drunk, you can tell. They're all a little drunk, their words a little slurred, their movements a little wobbly. As the next guy slides into you, you nod at the bottle in his hand. "Hey, let me get a little of that." He holds the bottle up to your lips obligingly, and while most of it splashes down your chin and across your breasts, you get a few good swigs in. It's a party, after all.

When everyone's had their turn on you the boys decide to play a game called "Hide the Herring," which turns out to consist of everyone scattering to find objects, and then taking turns trying to fit them inside you, the winner being the one with the largest object that manages to fit completely inside you. You get several different rocks, some sticks, big chunk of frozen together ice cubes, One guy tries to fit a full, unopened bottle of beer in you, fat end first. It stretches you almost to your limit but he manages, with a bit of clitoral stimulation, to get it all the way up to the neck. He says, "if you can hold on to it for ten seconds you can drink the whole thing," and you agree gamely to give it a try. He takes his hand away and the whole crowd counts down as you clench around this bottle, harder to do when you can't close your legs. You can feel it slipping, little by little, but when the count reaches zero it's still there, and you let it slip out into its owner's waiting hands. He cracks it open and holds it to your mouth, and you close your lips around it. You don't want to lost any like last time. The group is so impressed by the way you open your throat and let it drain into you that they give you another, and another after that. By the end of your fourth beer you're definitely feeling the alcohol, and the last of the fear and misery of the situation falls away like the last remnants of a lizard's skin. Being the Elk Trail Cum Dump, you guess, isn't so bad after all.

The winner of Hide the Herring ends up being a full ten pack of hot dogs. The entrant opens it up, uses two of the hot dogs to pack the wrapping into your pussy, and then spends about fifteen minutes cutting the other eight into pieces and popping them, one at a time, into your asshole. There's a lot of arguing about whether using your ass is allowed, or if it still counts as one object once the package is open, but it doesn't matter to you. Being filled this full feels amazing, and you manage to convince one of the guys to fuck you with your ass stuffed like this. Chunks of hot dog pop out of your ass, two and three at a time as you cum, and he leaves you dripping, feeling warm and gooey.

You get fucked a few more times as they set up camp for the night. Everyone's cum at least once by now, so the loads are getting a little thin, but that's okay. You feel as though you are melting into the tree, becoming a part of it. When you wake tomorrow, you imagine your arms and legs will have grown into its bark, your hair becoming leaves, your heart and lungs and mind becoming wood. Nothing more than a handful of tight wet holes for hikers and campers to enjoy. With this image glowing in your mind's eye, you drift off into a contented sleep.

#r@pe fantasy #r@petoy #r@pe kink #cnc free use #cvmdump #cvmslvt #rapekink #rapetoy

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