#nothing but fluff over here people
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(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧
Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡
cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago.
A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch.
“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you.
“I wanna see Max.”
“She has to be here somewhere.”
That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest.
Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here.
Steve frowns at you worriedly.
“Who died?” asks a new voice.
You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers.
“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips.
“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”
“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes.
“Is it awful?” you ask.
“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult.
“Who’s throwing up?” you ask.
“Dustin. He’s outside.”
Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.”
He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes.
“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.
You school your impression. “Like what?”
“Like you like him.”
You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?”
She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?”
“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings.
“Looks like something. Are you dating?”
“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.”
“He was touching you a lot.”
“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely.
“Ew,” Max says with a laugh.
“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s—
“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder.
You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug.
“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly.
Oh, boy, you think.
As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.
From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy.
Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet.
“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.”
“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.
“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.”
“Steve.”
“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.”
“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty.
“What?” he asks.
His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles
You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.”
“Are you okay?”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.”
“I sounded weird?”
“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.”
You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it.
“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do.
“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.”
Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice.
“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.”
You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something.
After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie?
“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged.
You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews.
“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way.
He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused.
“You were in the way of the light.”
“That what it was?”
“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself.
“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?”
Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks.
“It’s good.”
“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.”
He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you.
Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise!
You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this.
You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing.
He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs.
You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes.
“You okay?” he whispers.
You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek.
Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.
The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen.
A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say.
“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“I really like you, Steve.”
He stares at you. “…But?”
“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.”
“I thought…” And of course he did.
“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.”
He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.”
“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes.
“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious.
“Yeah.”
Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.”
“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”
“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.”
“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.”
“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks.
“I like you too!” he says loudly.
A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?”
You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again.
“You okay?” he asks tightly.
“I’m sorry.”
He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?”
You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.”
He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?”
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?”
You nod vehemently.
Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”
—♡—
The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm.
A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.
“I think I might melt.”
“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you.
“You can be my parasol.”
“Your what?”
“It’s a sun umbrella.”
“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up.
You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.
He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.”
If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay.
“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur.
He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?”
“That’s perfect.”
“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly.
“No… I’m thinking.”
“Nothing good ever comes of that.”
“I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth.
You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight.
“It’s a question.”
He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world.
“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.”
“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”
He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.”
“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.”
His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start.
“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem.
“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur.
His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it.
You tip your head aside to catch your breath.
“Better late than never,” you joke.
Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#stranger things#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington drabble
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New years kisses with the JJK men (nsfw & sfw)
Incl: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami, Yuji, Megumi
contains: fem reader, crack, fluff, smut, semi-public sex, finger sucking, domesticness, rough sex, teasing, dirty talk
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ
Gojo: SFW
The clock was ticking, only two minutes to go. It seemed everyone had found their partner or friend they were going to kiss to enter the new year together. You on the other hand? You were busying yourself getting another drink from the kitchen, which was completely vacant, save for Megumi's demon dogs chasing each other at your feet.
Even a pair of shikigami wasn't going to be alone on New Year's Eve, ugh. Of course, you had someone you wanted to kiss, but it was too unrealistic. Gojo Satoru. The two of you had gotten fairly close over the past year since you transferred from the Kyoto school to work at Jujutsu High. Clearly not as close as you thought though, as Gojo was last seen mingling with some female teacher you didnt recognize by the TV.
You turned around to peel open the fridge door to get yourself another seltzer. After digging around and finding just what you needed as the reality of another year going by with n new Year's kiss, you slammed the door shut, and almost fell straight on your ass at the piercing blue eyes that came into view.
Gojo chased your body, his hands wrapping around your waist as he caught you from falling. "Sorry~ Didn't mean to scare you," Gojo said, giggling as he watched you catch your breath, your heart still racing from the scare. He was so close, so warm. His hands were gripping you so firmly, like he didn't want you to let you go, even though you were no longer at risk for falling.
Well, honestly, It's probably a good thing he didnt let go, because the proximity of his body to yours and his delicious cologne were both making you dizzy. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "Were you hiding from me?" He whispered, a faux pout covering his features as he tipped his head at you.
A blush spread over your cheeks as you tried to avert your gaze from his intimidating one. "The ball is about to drop, what are you doing in here?" You asked, avoiding his question. You quickly tried to look around the main room through the opening to the kitchen, looking for the girl you saw Satoru with.
"Ohh, so you know the ball is about to drop and you're hiding from me on purpose, huh?" You went to speak again, but the chant of dozens of people pouting down from ten swarmed your ears, stopping your train of thought. "You were looking for me?" "Nine! Eight!" "Why would I not be looking for you? His arms tightened around your waist, pulling your chest closer to his.
You hovered your hands over the sides of his waist, fearing if you touched him he might disappear. "Five! Four!" "Gojo stop playing, you're running out of time go find your new years kiss it's-"
"Two!, One!"
His lips were on yours before you could register what was happening. Your eyes shot open for a moment in shock before you reciprocated the kiss, slotting your lips against his. Your hand instinctually found their way to his chest, pressing against his sturdy from for leverage as the two of you kissed like you were the only two people in the worlds.
Cheers and music could be heard from the main room as the ball dropped and the time finally hit 12:00, signaling the new year. Satoru finally pulled away after what felt like forever. Both of your faces blushing, your lips buzzing with the skin of where his once was. "You're so dense sometimes." He giggled, making you jerk your head back in offense, your hand lightly batting his chest.
"What?" You said, your face scrunching in annoyance. "I've been trying to hint at you that I like you this entire year." He said, his eyes going wide as he explained himself. "Well, I don't know if it counts as 'hinting' if I tell you to your face that you're my soulmate, but I don't know. Maybe that wasn't obvious enough for your dense little head." Gojo said mockingly, releasing one of his hands around your waist to poke you in the forehead, making your eyebrows scrunch together.
"How am I supposed to take you seriously when you say stuff like that all the time? You're always joking around like that!" You exclaimed, getting in his face. His soft lips against yours made your frustration go away in an instant. "Never with you," Satoru said, his voice suddenly sounding too serious to belong to him. "I've never joked like that with you." A deeper blush was spreading itself over his face as he smiled, easing the sudden tension he caused.
You brought your eyes back to his, your mouth staying together in a pout. "So did you take that kiss as a joke too?" He asked, breaking the silence, his silly demeanor taking over once more. "How.. how could I after you just confessed." You said, your hands sliding down his chest. "THAT'S what did it? Would you have thought the kiss was a joke if I didn't follow it up with my amazing, beautiful confession?" Gojo asked, getting in your face.
You scoffed out a laugh before you pushed yourself out of his grip, turning away as you started walking to the main room with a smile on your face. "Hey! Hey, I'm talking to you! Do you like me back! Are we boyfriend, girlfriend now?! I wasn't done talkingg!" Gojo asked needily, hot on your heels as he chased you into the main room to interrogate you.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Geto: SFW
Ten years later, and the parties Gojo threw as an adult looked exactly the same. Even the people were the same. You couldn't lie that it was fairly comfortable, save for the music that was giving you a migraine, but Gojo always did like his music loud.
You and Geto had arrived together, and the two of you stayed conjoined at the hip for the entirety of the night, Gojo checked in on you occasionally as people were constantly dragging him away to converse, he was Gojo Satoru after all. Geto was the first one to get your attention after hours of catching up with everyone. His fingers tugged the bottom of your dress towards him, the feeling making you look down at his hand before your eyes found his darker ones.
He signaled to the couch with his thumb, silently asking you if you wanted to go sit down. You were thankful he said something, your feet were aching in your heels and you didn't know how much more small talk you had in you. You knew most of the people at the party, but some of your coworkers and work friends had brought their significant others--which had led to introduction after introduction, you don't think you've ever said your own name so many times in one night.
The alcohol you had been sipping on had started to make you feel dizzy too, your body feeling instant relief when your ass hit the soft cushions of the couch, your head leaning back against the large pillow behind you. You felt the cushion dip next to you when Geto joined you, his thigh pressing into yours from how close he was.
"You havin' fun?" He asked into the shell of your ear, making goosebumps cover your arms at the sound, his hot breath tickling your skin. You turned your head to face him, not realizing how close he really was. You were thankful for the color-changing LED lights in Geto's main room, or Geto might've noticed the blush on your face.
You nodded before speaking, "Yeah! I love seeing everyone loosen up in a setting like this, it's a nice change of pace from the usual seriousness of everyone's day-to-day at the school." You kept your eyes on his when you spoke, noticing how his eyes kept fluttering down to your lips, but you just brushed it off.
"Yeah? You're right, It is nice to see everyone like this." He said, his large hand coming to land on your knee, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the skin there. "You deserve it too, love seein' you so relaxed." Geto's looked so handsome like this. His hair fell freely around his face as he leaned his head back against the couch to match yours. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone, giving you a delicious view of his porcelain skin that change color under the lights.
"Thank you, baby." You said, your hand tucking his long hair behind his ears. "Boo, get a room," Shoko said, the other side of the couch dipping next to you as her feet slid over your thighs. You turned your head, your hands placing themselves on her legs as she leaned back, cupping her hand over her mouth as she lit a cigarette, the orange glow illuminating her face.
"You get tired of being social?" Geto asked, grabbing her legs and throwing them off of you, her heels hitting the ground with a dull click as her body was forced to sit upright to match the two of you. "I don't like these things in the first place. I'm only here because Utahime is here." She confessed, taking a drag from her cigarette.
"So why aren't you with her now?" You asked, tipping your head at her. "Lost her in Gojo's mansion. The ball is about to drop too, guess I'll be getting my kiss late." She said, jerking her head forward to the large flat screen that displayed a twenty-second count down on the screen.
"Oh shit, didn't realize it was so close, c'mere baby," Geto said, leaning over you. Effortlessly, he picked up your body and made your thighs straddle his own, your hands wrapping around his neck instinctually. Shoko groaned from the side of you, the cushion inflating back to normal as she was gone faster than she had arrived, not wanting to see you and Geto makeout.
The sound of the countdown got louder as Gojo turned up the volume from somewhere in the room. Briefly glancing around, you saw people scramble around the large space to find their significant other--looks like everyone lost track of time. Geto's hand on your face pulled you away from the distraction of everyone's commotion and led your attention back to him. "Focus on me baby, don't wanna miss this," Geto said, tucking your hair behind your ear.
Before you knew it, it was 8 seconds till midnight, and Geto was staring into your eyes like you were the only person in the room. His serious gaze made you giggle, your hands coming to cup his cheeks as his arms wrapped around your waist. You tilted your head to the side, slowly bringing your faces close together as the countdown got down to three.
"Happy New Year, baby," Geto whispered against your mouth before his lips were on yours. You hummed into the kiss, your eyes closing as you pressed your lips to his, the kiss full of love and promise to keep each other safe and loved going into the new year. He wrapped his arms around your body tightly before he stood up, spinning you around. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his hips, your ankles locking to keep yourself tight against him.
You giggled as his spinning came to a stop, the large man leaning down to place your feet on the ground before he broke the kiss, his hands cradling your face as you smiled from ear to ear. "I'm going to marry you someday." He whispered in all seriousness, smiling at you with the most sincere look of happiness he could muster.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Toji: NSFW
"Ah-ah-ah-mmmph-" Your moans were muffled by Toji's large hand pressing over your mouth. "Shhh, gotta be fuckin' quiet pretty girl." He groaned into your ear, giving you deep but slow thrusts as he spoke. "Don't want someone catchin' us like this, right?" He asked, biting your ear lobe between his teeth, making your eyes roll back in your head.
You nodded against his hand, your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked at him through the mirror, his dark eyes raking over your body, his sharp eyes watching the way your tits bounced underneath your dress. "You not wearin' a bra?" Toji asked, the hand he was using to grip your hip sliding up to massage your tit in his hand over the material of your dress, his hips shallowly thrusting into you, his fat tip kissing your sweet spot with every thrust, making your legs shake.
You shook your head, your eyes fluttering when he found your nipple and tweaked it between his fingers, the material of the dress making the stimulation extra intense. "Naughty girl.." He whispered, keeping his eyes on yours in the mirror as he pressed his lips to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His middle finger, slid against your lips before he pressed it against them, waiting for you to open up.
"You wanted me to fuck you in here like this huh? Planned it from the start." He said with a malicious grin, watching your lips part as you took his finger in your mouth. He didnt even give you a chance to reply before he was leaning back and fucking into you--hard. The fat of your ass rippling as his hips hit your ass, his fat cock being bullied into your walls.
Your jaw was slack as Toji pressed his finger to the back of your throat, drool sliding down his hand as he fucked pathetic whimpers from your mouth, keeping his hand on your tit as he massaged it harshly in his big hand. "Shhh-shhh what did I say?" Toji asked, his eyes squinting at yours in the mirror. He watched as they tried to stay put in their sockets, the usually simple feat proving hard every time Toji fucked his girth into you.
"What did I fucking. Say." Toji repeated, emphasizing his words with a mean thrust, making your jaw drop open more in a silent moan before you gapsed sharply. Both of your smaller hands shot up to grip his thick wrist for support, his finger hooking onto your bottom row of teeth as he pulled your jaw down, trying to challenge you. "B-be quiet, you said 't be q-quiet-" You whisper moaned, your words getting louder at the end each time his hips collided with yours.
"So you can listen, good girl." Toji looked down between where the two of you were connected, his hand abandoning your tit to pull up your dress so he could watch his cock force it's way into the tight ring of your cunt, your fluids making his dick shine under the fluorescent bathroom lights every time he pulled out, making him groan.
Toji pulled his finger from your mouth, grabbing both sides of your hips in his hands as he prepared to fuck into your harder, one of your hands sliding behind you to grab his arm for leverage as the other pressed firmly over your mouth to keep yourself quiet. Just before he started being meaner than he already was, he was stopped by chanting coming from outside the room. "Ten! Nine! Eight!"
Toji's hips paused completely, giving you time to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling dramatically with each gasp. "Oh shit, it's almost new years baby." Toji said, smirking at your fucked out face through the mirror. "Toji.. Kiss.." You whispered through your gasps, looking at him desperately, your hand behind you squeezing around his wrist in urgency.
"Yeah, yeah. Cmere, crybaby." Toji teased. He pressed his chest to your back, reaching his hand around you he grabbed your chin, turning your head to the side, his other wrapping around your waist. "Three! Two! One!" The voices of the people outside the bathroom came muffled through the door as Toji smirked, pressing your lips together in a kiss full of love, contrary to his mean hips bullying you just seconds ago.
Toji slowly ground his hips against your ass, his mushroom tip rubbing against your sweet spot, making you whine into his mouth. He kissed you long and hard, his eyes cracking open to watch your face in the mirror as he kissed you. Toji smiled against your lips when he felt your cunt squeeze around him when he slipped his tongue in your mouth, tangling it with yours. He pulled back after a couple seconds of teasing, your lips being connected by a string of saliva as you breathed heavily against the others lips.
Toji looked between your fucked out expression, and your swollen lips before he leaned back in to press a quick peck against your lips, licking his own as he pulled away for good. "Happy New Year pretty girl. Let me fuck my cum into you to make sure we start this year off right, yeah?" Oh, Toji, always the romanticist.
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Nanami: NSFW
Nanami reached his hand over the table, his eyes watching the way your lips wrapped around his fork as you took all of the chocolate cake into your mouth. He pulled his fork back to get himself a bite, smiling as he watched your eyes practically roll back in your head at the rich flavor. "Kento." You groaned, covering your mouth as you spoke.
He smiled, briefly looking down to scoop a forkful of the brown cake for himself. "Is it alright, my love?" He asked, holding his fork out in front of his mouth, the sweet cocoa smell flooding his nose as he waited for you to speak. "Kento, taste that right now." You said, swallowing the desert he made from scratch.
The blonde-haired man laughed at your dramatics--or what he thought were dramatics before the cake hit his tastebuds. His eyebrows raised in surprise, his eyes finding yours as he tipped his head at you, saying nothing as he chewed the cake, but his expression said it all. "Right? Riiiight? Kento, is there anything you can't do?" You asked, shaking your head in disbelief at your husband's talent.
He giggled, lifting the napkin on his lap to clean his mouth off. "I do agree this time... I think I outdid myself." He praised his own work, making you giggle. You used the table as leverage as you lifted yourself to sit on your shins on the chair, leaning forward you opened your mouth, looking up at Nanami. "Don't keep me waiting, Ken." You said teasingly, waiting for him to cut another piece for you to eat.
Nanami smiled fondly as he lifted his fork to your lips. Just before the cake made it into your mouth, it fell off the utensil, falling onto your chest, the chocolate frosting smearing on the skin of your clavicle. "Oh shoot." You said ashamed--not that the frosting had gotten on you, but because a perfectly good piece of the cake was now ruined.
"Shit, I'm sorry honey. Stay still." Nanami said, pushing himself back from his chair to wet a towel to clean you up with. A sudden idea popped into your head, your hand shooting out to grab his wrist to stop him before he got too far. "Wait." You said, sitting back down onto your chair properly, sightly pulling Nanami's body towards you.
Nanami raised his eyebrows, confused at why you had stopped him. "I have another way you can clean me up." You said teasingly, wiggling your eyebrows at Nanami. Immediately his expression softened, a small smile taking place on his face as he strode to your side of the table, standing in front of you. Nanami could already take a guess at how you wanted him to clean you up.
"Can you get on your knees for me Ken?" You asked sweetly, playing with his fingers in your hand. "Of course, my love." He answered softly, slowly getting on one knee before he followed it with the other. He looked up at you, waiting for your further instruction. Your hands came forward to hold his chiseled face in your soft hands, Nanami's eyes fluttering at the touch.
"You have such good skin, Ken." You praised, watching the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiled. "I have my lovely wife to thank for that." He answered. He was right though, every single night you pampered Nanami by laying him down and doing his skincare for him, it was his most treasured time with you.
"Yeah.. I guess you're right." You said, smiling. After raking your eyes over his handsome face once more, you bit your lip between your teeth, your eyes dropping to his lips. You looked down at your own chest where the frosting had fallen, Nanami's eyes following your own as he watched your movements carefully.
You retracted one of your hands from his face, gathering the frosting on the tip of your finger you brought it to his mouth, hovering it right over his lips. "Open please." You asked quietly, blushing at your own words. Nanami kept his eyes on yours as he did so, his tongue sliding out slightly to tease you.
He wrapped his lips around your finger, making your eyes flutter as you inhaled suddenly, feeling yourself start to throb between your legs. Nanami hummed around your finger, the deep sound only fueling the fire between your legs. Your eyebrows furrowed together as Nanami's tongue wrapped around the digit, licking off the rich frosting.
He pulled his head back, your finger popping out completely clean. Nanami licked his lips clean, making sure he got all of the frosting. "Delicious." He said quietly, his large hands sliding atop your thighs, his fingers slipping under the hem of your dress slightly as he teased you, dragging his fingers higher. "But you missed some..." Nanami whispered, raising himself on his knees.
"Yeah?" you asked teasingly, your hands sliding over Nanami's shoulders. "Yeah, right here," Nanami whispered against your skin. His hair tickled your neck as he leaned in, his tongue poking out between his lips as he licked the frosting directly off your chest. "Mmm." You moaned softly with your lips together, tangling your hands in Nanami's hair as his licking turned to sucking, his trail of kisses moving up your neck.
"Ken.." You moaned softly as he raised from his place on the floor, his hands sliding up your body, raising your dress slightly in the process as his knee made home on your chair, between your legs. Nanami kept his head on your neck, his hands feeling up your body as you tipped your head back, giving him unobstructed access to your neck.
He groaned against your skin, your legs pressing together around his thick thigh as his knee pressed against your cunt, stimulating your needy clit, making you whimper into the air. Your eyes fluttered open between his kisses, your eyes locking onto the clock, which currently read 12:05, you had missed the ball drop.
"Shit, Kento look at the time." You said, making him pull away from your neck, his head turning around to look at the clock. He looked back at you apologetically, his eyes taking in your adorable pout. "I'm sorry honey, got a little distracted." He smiled, making your pout subside slightly. "Now you have to make it up to me." You said, running your hands over Nanami's pecs and abs as he stood, his warm hand cradling your face.
"How so?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at your demands. You stood quickly, jumping into his arms, making him laugh at your sudden movements as he caught you, his hands cradling your ass. "First things first." You said before you pressed your lips to his, your hands wrapping around his neck, your nails raking over his undercut, making him groan into the kiss.
You pulled away, not wanting to waste the night any longer. Nanami looked disheveled already, just from a little pec. You cradled his cheeks in your hand before you leaned in, kissing the shell of his ear before you spoke. "Wanna see what you can do with your tongue somewhere else." Nanami let out a groan at your words, shaking his head as he felt his cock twitch.
"Who taught you to talk like that, huh?" He asked, walking you towards your shared bedroom as he spoke. " My husband." You giggled, pressing your lips to his once more as he navigated his way through the hallway.
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Yuji: SFW
Yuji had been sent on a mission with Nanami earlier in the morning. he told you when he left that Nanami said it wouldn't take very long, so you shouldn't worry--he would be back in time for your New Year's kiss. But it was 12:30 now, and you sat in Nobara's room, trying not to cry as she painted your nails, her playlist playing quietly in the backround as the new year count down played on her TV.
"I don't think he's going to make it back in time." You said, pouting as you watched her work in front of you. "I'm pretty sure he would part the Atlantic Ocean to get to you, stop worrying." She said, brushing off your concerns. Nobara had been very confident all night, throughout all your worrying, that Yuji was going to make it back before midnight.
"His mission was across town, and the roads are probably hell right now... I don't know. It's fine, there's always next year." You said unconvinced, ignoring Nobara's words completely. "Ugh, I didn't realize you were such a downer~ When have I ever been wrong about anything, ever?" She shouted, looking up at you offended, holding the nail polish bottle in one hand.
*ring ring* *ring ring*
Yuji's name popped up on your phone, the screen illuminating with a picture of the two of you on the beach. "Uh oh," Nobara said, only increasing the pit of despair you felt in your stomach. You glared at her before swallowing hard and answering the phone--you don't think your mouth has ever been so dry in your life. "Yuji? Everything okay?" You asked. The backround on Yuji's end sounded like he was in a car, giving you false hope before he spoke.
"I-I'm so sorry. I'm not going to make it back to the school in time. I'm really sorry." Yuji spoke into the receiver, sounding like he was about to cry. You squeezed your eyes shut, your hope shattering in your chest like glass. He sounded sad enough as it is, you didnt want to make him feel any worse than he already did, so you did your best to keep your disappointment out of your voice when you spoke.
"Its.. It's alright Yuji, I'll see you when you get here, I know you did your best." Nobara cringed hearing you talk, knowing that she had been wrong. The two of you exchanged a few more words, mostly "I'm sorry's" from Yuji, before you ended the call. You placed your phone back on the bed, face down, before you looked up at Nobara with an 'I told you so' look on your face.
She inhaled sharply, looking back down to your hand she took it in her own, dipping the brush in the nail polish and wiping it against the side as she got to work, "Shit.. uh.. I feel like I should say my bad for getting your hopes up. I'm literally never wrong." She said, brushing the paint over your nails. "It's not your fault Nobara, I told you It'll be fine." She wondered if you knew how horrible you were at concealing your disappointment. It had been painfully obvious when you tried to hide it over the phone with Yuji too.
Nobara had finished your nails at 11:40, and it was not 11:55. A part of you was still wishing Itadori would burst through Nobara's door, but you knew that was just false wishing. After all, he had called you himself and told you he wasn't going to make it. "We can smooch if you want, the ball is about to drop," Nobara said from her place on the bed. She was lying upside down, half of her body draped off the bed while she used her phone, her arms hanging out in front of her.
"You know I can't kiss you." You giggled, kicking her foot playfully. "Yeah, I know. Sorry about Itadori." She said honestly, making you feel choked up suddenly. He really wasn't going to make it, the realization finally hitting you when the clock hit 11:59, only 30 seconds before the ball dropped. Before you could open your mouth to say it was alright, you heard a loud bang outside Nobara's door, sounding like it had come from your room across the hall, making you and Nobara both jump.
"The fuck?" Nobara said, sliding off the bed completely, and sitting crisscross on the ground. You both sat in silence as you waited to hear something else. After a few seconds, loud and quick knocks were rapped on Nobara's door, followed by a very familiar voice. "KUGISAKI, IS MY GIRLFRIEND WITH YOU?????" Yuji yelled through the door. You could hear him pacing on the squeaky floor.
Before she even had a chance to answer you were on your feet, making a b-line for the door. You slid the door open as you came face to face with a red-faced, messy-haired, and sweating Itadori, right as the countdown to the new Year echoed "Three! Two! One!" In the backround. "Hey." He spoke, out of breath, a dopey smile on his face.
You wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing your lips to his. His hands wrapped around your waist, pressing your body snugly to yours as he kissed you back, his eyes squeezing together tightly. "YUCK, get a rooooom." Kugisaki groaned, covering her eyes as the two of you kissed in her doorway.
You pulled away, looking at him exasperatedly, your hands slapping over his face and squishing his cheeks, making sure he was real and not some figment of your imagination. Itadori laughed, keeping his arms snug around your waist as you toyed with his cheeks. "How are you here? I thought you weren't going to make it?" You asked, pressing kisses to his cheeks.
"I ran here. I could tell you were trying to hide it for my sake, but I couldn't stand how disappointed you sounded." He said, his cheeks turning red from your pampering. "You ran here?!" You asked, knowing how far away his mission was. That explained his disheveled appearance. "How far?" You followed up your question, your eyebrows raised in concern.
He laughed, rubbing his thumbs into your skin comfortingly. "Just a couple miles, nothing crazy." He said nonchalantly, your mouth hanging open in shock as he spoke. "I told you he would do anything for you!!" Nobara yelled, a big smile on her face as she pointed at Itadori, looking proud of herself. "She's right, I love you. Happy New Year." Itadori said, smiling at you fondly.
You leaned in to press another kiss to his lips briefly, pulling back to smile at his adorable face, "I love you Yuij Itadori."
Megumi: SFW
"C'mon man, you gotta do it," Yuji said to Megumi, standing behind him as he shook his shoulders in his hands, the two boys facing you as you mingled with Maki and Nobara in the corner. "I... I don't think I can." Megumi blushed, his eyes raking over your frame, taking in how beautiful you looked.
You had your hair all done up, and you were dressed to the heavens. How was Megumi supposed to kiss you if he could barely look at you? "I've never even kissed anyone before, what if I suck?" He asked Yuji insecurely, looking at the walls in the room like they were the most interesting thing in the world
"How hard can it be? You wanna practice with me?" Yuji asked in all seriousness. Megumi shook Yuji's hands off of his shoulders at that, "Be serious. I'm not losing my first kiss to you." He said, scowling at the pink-haired boy as he came to stand next to him. "Ouch... I was just trying to be nice." Yuji pouted dramatically, crossing his arms.
After a couple seconds of silence, as Yuji watched the dark-haired boy stare at you while blushing, he decided to give him a little push. "It's almost midnight Megumi, and uh... not trying to freak you out or anything, but I think you have a little competition," Yuij said, pursing his lips together. The speed at which Megumi turned his head to look at Yuji almost made him laugh, but he needed to keep his composure if his little fib was going to work.
"See blondie over there with Todo?" Yuji asked, tipping his head to the innocent-looking boy standing next to the mammoth that was Todo. "He's been eying up your girl allllll night," Yuji said. "She's not my..." Megumi trailed off, his eyes finding the boy Yuji was talking about. Coincidentally, the new kid from Kyoto happened to have a crush on Maki, which Yuji knew (thanks to Todo's big mouth) who was standing right next to you.
So when Megumi looked to see the boy staring at Maki, it really looked as if he was staring at you. Megumi didn't think he was a jealous person, but the way the boy was staring at 'you' made his blood boil. "Well... she certainly won't be your girl if you don't hurry and make a move before blondie does." Yuji teased, raising his eyebrows dramatically.
"Fuck.." Megumi cursed under his breath. His fists balled by his sides as he took a couple deep breaths, trying to prepare himself. "You got this!" Yuji cheered as Megumi took the first step forward, walking toward you. It was 5 minutes to 12, meaning Megumi had no time to lose.
"Oh, hey Megumi," Maki said, nodding at her bruting-looking cousin when he walked up. You blushed as your eyes focused on his face, he looked so handsome under the dim blue lighting of the main room. "Makiiiiii, Nobaraaaaa." Yuji mouthed, waving his arms dramatically to get their attention. The two girls looked over your shoulder to the pink haired boy making obnoxious movements with his arms.
Once he successfully got their attention, he pointed to you and Fushiguro, mouthing both of your names, before he turned around and pretended to make out with someone, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Nobara tried to hold back a laugh as she watched her classmate play charades across the room. When he turned back around, he waved them over, telling them to leave the two of you alone.
"Ah, bye Megumi!" Nobara said suddenly, not even trying to come up with some lame excuse as she dragged Maki by the hand away from the two of you, leaving you and Megumi alone under the light of the blue lamp in the corner of the room.
You can't believe your friends had just left you like that. You had just got done talking about how you wanted to kiss Megumi, and how nervous you were about talking to him tonight, and the second he walks up they abandon you? Some friends.
"What's up Megumi? You havin' fun?" You asked, trying to make small talk with your crush as the seconds ticked by faster and faster, midnight rapidly approaching. "Mm, it's not bad, parties aren't really my thing." He said, trying his best to not look at your lips while he spoke.
"Oh yeah? Me neither honestly. Why did you end up coming anyway?" You asked him, trying to keep the conversation going. "Why did you?" he retorted, catching you off guard. His dark eyes staring into yours were making you nervous, he was looking at you like he could see right through you.
"I uh.. well it's New Year's, I couldn't just stay cooped up in my room. Plus Nobara wanted me to hype her up for her kiss with Maki. She's been wanting to make a move for a while now." You said, pulling a half-truth from your brain. Truthfully, Nobara would've been fine without you, you just wanted to kiss Megumi.
"That's nice of you," Megumi responded, taking note of the way you fidgeted with your fingers. Before you could respond, someone yelled from the other side of the room "30 seconds till midnight!! Kiss it up!!" Their choice of words made you cringe, but it also made you hyperaware of how alone you and Fushiguro were right now. And now that the mention of kissing had been brought up, you were sweating.
"I came here because of you." Megumi blurted out suddenly, making your mouth open in a small O shape. The blue light did little to hide the dusting of blush on his cheeks. You quickly felt your own cheeks heat up at his confession, struggling to find the words to say. "How.. how so?" You asked, fearing to ask the direct question 'do you want to kiss me?' even as the time ticked quickly to midnight.
"I... Isn't it obvious?" He asked, clearly not wanting to say it himself. The sudden ten-second countdown made your heart beat out of your chest, you could feel every drop of blood racing through your veins the way your adrenaline spiked. "I want to hear you say it.. p-please." You asked, somehow still doubting yourself.
"Five! Four!" "I want to kiss you. Is that okay? Can I kiss you?" He asked, his words coming out rushed as his face scrunched in embarrassment at his own words. When you heard the others start to cheer, followed by "Happy New Year!" You decided to answer his question with an action. Standing on your tip toes you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his.
Megumi made a noise of surprise against your lips, his eyes going wide before they shut, following your lead as he reciprocated the kiss, pressing his lips to yours. Megumi felt his face heat up when he heard Itadori cheer a loud "GO MEGUMIU!!! THATS MY BOY!!" as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You pulled back from the kiss, the both of you breathing quietly against the other's lips. "Was that Itadori..." you whispered, trying to hold back your smile.
Megumi plopped his forehead down on your shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "Yup..." he whispered, his voice vibrating your skin, making you giggle. "Thats kinda cute." You said, running your hands through his soft hair. Megumi groaned into your neck, clearly disagreeing with your words before he pulled back, staring at your plush lips he just kissed with a pout.
"What?" You asked, smiling as you watched him oggle them. "I want to kiss you again." He said cutely. You placed your hands on his cheeks, bringing your lips together once more before you pulled away and whispered against his lips, "Kiss me all you want."
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#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#geto fluff#geto x you#getou suguru x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto smut#gojo smut#nanami smut#nanami x you#itadori yuuji fluff#itadori fluff#itadori x reader#jjk megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#megumi fluff#megumi x reader#toji smut#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x you#yuuji fluff#jjk yuuji#geto x reader#geto suguru
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)
synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case
length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)
contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll
notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away
right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.
so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.
it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.
by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.
but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.
and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.
“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.
“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.
bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.
suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.
“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.
you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.
“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”
“i know.”
“you should be at school grounds.”
“i know.”
“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.
bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.
“where did you find these kids?”
“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”
again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.
“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”
“i told them they’d be safe here.”
they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.
maybe not right now.
you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.
your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.
you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”
they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.
right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.
“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.
“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”
great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.
“here.”
“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.
“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”
“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”
“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”
“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.
for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.
you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”
——————
nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.
he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.
you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.
the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?
“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”
“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”
“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”
“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”
“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”
“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”
“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.
being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.
you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.
haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.
suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.
there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.
but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.
but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.
“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”
something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.
something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.
“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”
“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”
“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.
“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”
“what changed?”
“everything.”
“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.
“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.
“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”
“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.
co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.
but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.
“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”
you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.
“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.
“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”
“for us…all?”
“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”
he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”
it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.
“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”
“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”
you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.
so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.
“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”
“but you did.”
“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”
“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”
“they need me,” he defends.
“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.
you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.
he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.
you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.
they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.
suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.
“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”
“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.
“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”
“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.
“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.
“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”
he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.
cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.
“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.
he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”
“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”
————— BONUS —————
“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”
“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.
“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”
“what—”
“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”
“that’s not—”
“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”
“he’s not even married—”
“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”
“gojo—”
“see ya!”
he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.
satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts
#teepods.writings#fics.#geto x reader#geto x you#geto angst#geto fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk angst#jjk fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru angst#geto suguru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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I said "I love you."
you say nothing back
Falling in love with Gojo Satoru was as easy as reading the pages of your favorite book, not until you reached the very end of the chapter and the author just loves to twist the story.
contents: it was all a bet trope, angst lol, fluff, hurt!gojo, groveling, satoru gojo x fem!reader, college AU, playboy!gojo, comfort
credits to @/toOOfu for the art above!! ^^
***
September 1, 2023
"She looks like an easy target," Satoru chuckled as he watched you walk over to your friend, Utahime Iori, in the school cafeteria. It was one of those days when he would joke with Suguru and Shoko, with Suguru always making sure Satoru gets riled up by his joke.
Suguru simply told Satoru that girls may swoon over him, but he's sure that they're some others who probably would find him annoying, someone like you. That statement made Satoru cocky, and as prideful as he was, he made it into a bet that he'll make sure to make you fall in love with him by the end of December, enough time to swoon you over.
"We'll see about that, Satoru." Suguru smirked. "The end of December, you say?"
The latter nodded his head, a wide and annoying grin on his face. "Watch and you'll see, Suguru."
The catch? Nothing, just plain fun and feeding his ego.
"Satoru!" Oh, and here comes one of his girls. His flings.
September 2, 2023
Satoru wastes no time. The next day after making their bet, he quickly made advances towards you. After seeing you in the lockers first thing in the morning, he walked over and leaned to the locker right next to yours. And when you turned, you found him there with a smirk on his face.
"Hey, darling..." He said, almost seductively, if not only for the furrowed eyebrows in your face.
"Excuse me, who are you?" Your soft voice echoed in his head.
Now that hurts his ego. Satoru Gojo. Gojo Satoru. The handsome Satoru. The greatest. The flirt. The smartest. The playboy. The Gojo Satoru. The damn Gojo Satoru who you didn't even know who.
His mind was floating elsewhere after hearing your question. As unbelievable as it may sound, you were, unfortunately, serious about not knowing him. And guessing by the look in your face, he definitely was not making a good first impression.
First attempt: Failed.
But he's not the Gojo Satoru for nothing. No, he won't give up just yet.
So he straightened his composure, faking a cough as he flashes his smile that makes all his girls go crazy, and lowers his head to show you his ocean blue eyes underneath his glasses.
He definitely made sure you won't forget his name as he asks forces you to walk you into class, blabbering nonsense by your side.
You were just too nice to tell him to go away.
September 16, 2023
Gojo Satoru was persistent. Walking you to class, even waiting for you outside the door when he was vacant, disturbing your quiet study session at the library, sitting with you at the cafeteria table when Shoko or Suguru was not there. You definitely didn't forget his name this time as he became the annoying Gojo Satoru who's becoming a nuisance to your somewhat quiet life turned into a roller coaster.
During those days, Gojo found out things about you. You were studying at the architecture department, you like arts and coffees as for what he noticed when you were at the library, you were at the top of your class, and you have a few admirers that you turned down in a nice way possible, just like how you were turning him down too.
He also took note of the fact that you were introverted, and a little shy with people so he might just go easy on you. You had a soft voice, however, you weren't as innocent as you came out to be. You are honest with your words, so when you say you're not interested in him, then you're truly not.
You weren't an easy target after all. But Gojo Satoru loved the thrill, you challenged him so much that he wasn't about to give up now that you intrigued him. He wanted to prove to himself that he can get anyone, he can have whatever he wants, and he definitely will.
"It's raining, it won't hurt to get in my car, princess." He said nearly in your ears. You pushed his face away with a look of disgust.
"No way, Gojo. You probably took so many girls in there already, and how can I be so sure you won't do anything bad?" You frowned at him, shoving his chest away as you stand outside the doors of your building, waiting for the rain to stop. You were angry, but damn you can't even raise your voice at him.
Soft. Too damn soft. Can he break you?
Through the days that he came by to woo you, it didn't matter anymore what words came out of your mouth. People may see you as the shy type of girl, but you're not afraid to voice out your opinion, and your somewhat intimidating face speaks a lot for you.
"Jealous?" He laughed when you glared at him. "Princess, I can assure you I haven't taken anyone inside my car. Plus, I can even buy a new one exclusively just for you if it bothers you too much." He grinned, annoyingly.
You gave him a moment of silence, and that sparked a new hope in Satoru's ego that you might be considering his offer now.
"Well... no."
Oh.
But he could only smirk, assuming you were only playing hard to get. Girls always liked when boys chase after them, no?
"I'll walk you home then."
You shot daggers at his back as he ran to his car, and came back with an umbrella. His shirt got a bit soaked, hair a little wet after running to the car, but damn, he still got that annoying smirk on his face.
You sighed, how annoying.
September 29, 2023
He never gave up despite how you rejected him multiple times. He stuck by your side even though you don't want him to, and he was somehow getting into your system. He carries your bag when he walks you to class, or just about anywhere, and you didn't even give your bag to him—he practically forced you. He'd buy you coffee in the morning, making sure he gets the right order, and when you give money to pay, he'd refuse and shove the money back in your wallet. Sometimes, he'd give you sweets even if you don't ask him to, giving you the flavors that he likes the most.
Funny how you can't even get him to stop whatever he's trying to do. No man has ever pursued you like he does.
"Gojo–"
"That's Satoru for you, love." He cut you off with a playful smile. "Haven't I told you already?"
"Gojo." You repeated seriously. His eyes glinted with interest as he waited for your words. "Get lost, please."
How nice of you to say please.
He laughs. He had the audacity to laugh. "You know, you're really cute."
"Look," you sighed tiredly. "Whatever this is you're trying to do, stop. I'm not interested. If you want to get into my pants like you did to those other girls, that's not going to happen."
With one look at him, you snatched your bag from him and walked away with your heart beating loudly. Your face was heating up after saying each word, and never in your life have you turned someone down so harshly.
Satoru watched as you walked away. Sure, that hurt his pride, but he can't let his ego step on so easily.
He left you alone during the day, just giving you the space since he seemed to have pushed your buttons a bit. Plus, he was busy with basketball practice since his coach was already nagging him for not attending their training.
However, your assumptions were only proved to be true when you caught him with a girl at the parking lot the same day. A cheerleader, stroking his chest as if she was comforting him as her other hands wiped his sweat with a towel. You looked at his physique, Satoru Gojo was in his basketball uniform, showing a lot of his biceps. You watched as his adam's apple protruding as he drank his water.
You felt annoyed. Your eyes turning red when you see just how he didn't mind the cheerleader. Of course, Gojo Satoru was a playboy.
Who cares? You definitely didn't.
That's what you thought.
You walked in the opposite direction, just so you wouldn't cross paths. But of course, Gojo Satoru will always see you. After all, he was at the parking lot waiting just for you, and only you.
"Wait up!" You heard his voice from behind, and you didn't even look back, thinking he wasn't calling out for you. You wished he was calling for you.
Satoru grabbed your wrist, and forced you to look at him. "Hey!"
Your brows furrowed, trying to yank your wrist away at his strong hold. "What do you want?"
"Woah... slow down." He said as he grasped your elbows with both hands. His eyes searched yours, his piercing blue eyes staring at the raging fire burning in your gaze. "What's wrong?"
You swear, your brows almost met each other at him. But you didn't want to burst. At least, not in front of him. "Go back to your cheerleader, Gojo." You frowned at him.
He observed you for a minute, then a small smile crept on his lips. Realizing just how much he's finally having an effect on you.
"Sorry," he chuckled.
"What?!" You almost shout at him in annoyance.
"I said, I'm sorry, princess." He repeated. "I didn't think of you as the jealous type. Plus, she was just helping me."
"Help you what? Wipe off your sweat? Since you don't have the hands to do it for yourself?" You glared at his annoying handsome face. "You playboy. I knew you were just trying to play with me." You said, pushing his chest with your pointer finger.
He pursed his lips as he caught your wrist, stopping you. "Now, now, don't think like that." He chuckled. "I'm sorry, I'll be sure to push those girls away so you won't be mad at me anymore."
And damn, he was true to his words. He didn't know what got into him, but he definitely started rejecting every girl that came his way. He didn't even feel sorry, and he even stopped calling those poor girls with sweet endearments as he rejected them.
Gojo Satoru was slowly starting to feel something for you. But he doesn't even know it just yet.
In a span of a month, he successfully got into your system.
October 6, 2023
"How's the deal going?" Suguru asked as they walked together to their class.
"Poor girl, I heard from people that she's nice." Shoko added, shaking her head at them. "Though people may see her as intimidating, they said she's really kind. A soft voice, and all that. Shouldn't you stop, Satoru?"
"Nah, I think I'm enjoying this." Satoru shrugged.
Of course, Satoru definitely felt something tugging at his heart. He definitely liked having you around, since you were giving just the right thrill to rile him up, he loved every rejection, and every attention you gave him. But somehow, he was feeling a little guilty. But he's too prideful to even admit that.
"Plus, she's friends with Utahime. That girl hates you a lot, Satoru." Shoko said. "You wouldn't want to hurt her best friend."
October 13, 2023
"Didn't I tell you to call me Satoru?" He raised his eyebrows at you as he accompanied you in the library, placing a coffee and a small cookie right next to your books.
"We're not friends, Gojo."
"Right, since you're going to be my girlfriend."
You shot him a look, sighing as you turned the pages of your book. "What do you want this time?"
"Nothing, I just wanted to spend time with my favorite person." He smiled, opening his books too. "I'll study with you. I promise, I'll be quiet."
You didn't respond to that, just expecting him to keep his words. And when he did stay silent like he promised, you were already thanking god for having to hear your prayers.
As the hours went by, you slowly fell asleep, your head resting in your arms as your books laid discarded. Satoru looked at you, a small smile crept on his face as he gently stroked your hair.
He stood up, organizing your books in a pile, taking your pencil case as he shoved your pens in them and putting it inside your bag, he got the empty cup of coffee that he got for you and threw it in the trash can, and he did it all so as to not wake you. He waited for a few hours, tenderly watching you doze off, before he tapped your shoulders to wake you up so he could take you home.
October 18, 2023
Maybe Satoru felt guilty now.
He twists and turns in his bed, thinking of you and how you put up with him everyday. And everything you do, never escape in his eyes as he finds himself memorizing you.
You'd smile at him nicely, despite how your eyes show how annoyed you were.
Your feet would tap the floor when you get too nervous.
You don't even know but you unconsciously hold a piece of fabric in his shirt when it gets too crowded, hiding behind him when there's a lot of people.
He notices how your hands move gracefully as you trace your art project, eyes furrowed and focus on getting your work done.
Truthfully, he adores your smiles. The way your eyes would squint every time your lips stretch in delight. He held your hands once at his attempt of flirting, and it was so soft that he couldn't even get himself to let go. He loved playing with your soft, silky hair whenever you fell asleep in the library, staying by your side until you woke up. He also loved your silence, the comforting atmosphere that you give off seems to calm something in his heart. When he manages to get a proper conversation with you, he just wants to melt every time he hears your sooting voice.
And nervously, he thinks he's starting to like you.
October 23, 2023
Slowly, Satoru became a part of your day. Somehow, he managed to finally be friends with you, and still, you refused to call him Satoru, indicating that you still cannot allow yourself to be casual with him.
That's fine. He can settle for whatever you can give him. For now.
"Baby, there's a basketball game coming up this Friday..." Satoru trailed off. You were almost going to point out his endearment, but then again, it's Satoru, and you were slowly getting used to him.
"What?" You asked. "So?"
"I bought you tickets so you can watch. It's two tickets, so you can bring your friend."
He didn't even ask if you wanted to, but then again, for a hundredth time, it's Satoru. He wanted you to watch his game, nonetheless.
And you did. Your seat being close to their benches so he can see you easily.
October 27, 2023
"Seriously? I'm about to watch our school's basketball game, because Gojo Satoru invited you?" Utahime said annoyed as you both sat at your assigned seats.
"Well... yes..." You said shyly, looking around at the amount of people in the stadium. "You know, we've been hanging out a lot–"
"I told you, he's bad news." Utahime cut you off. "How am I supposed to get that in your head?"
"I know, I know... But he's actually been nice. Haven't you notice?"
Utahime thought for a moment. Of course, she noticed some changes. Gojo Satoru seemed to be spending his time with you lately. He didn't even care about his ex flings, or his admirers, he was solely focused on you. Usually, Gojo would take a girl wrapped around his fingers in a day, and then disposing them just as quick after he got what he wanted. He looks like he's not like that to you, Utahime thought. Though, she hated his guts, Utahime knew you were enjoying having him around.
She sighed, "Just... don't get hurt, okay?"
You chuckled at her. "Why would I?"
After the game ended, with your school cheering loudly at winning, Utahime said she had to go home quickly, so you were left alone.
You didn't know what to do, or where to go. Satoru was busy with his teammates, talking and congratulating each other. Satoru wanted to go to you quickly, but his fans surrounded him, stopping him from going your way as they celebrated their victory.
Satoru knew too well that you didn't like the crowd, so he was trying hard to escape from it.
Your eyes watched as his fans congratulated him, asking for pictures, and even giving him gifts. You sighed, texting him that you'll be going home since he wasn't about to finish anytime soon.
You understood that he was famous, and all that. He's Satoru Gojo, after all. And it's another part of him that you're still not used to.
A part of you was proud of him. And you couldn't possibly be selfish about him, especially if you only recently got to know him.
Satoru hurriedly ran away from the crowd, excusing himself politely as he saw you walking through the exit doors. He got his bag, and ran to catch up to you.
Thanks to his long legs, and his intense basketball training, he was able to catch up to you quickly. "Hey!" He called.
You turned as you heard his voice, seeing his disheveled hair and sweaty forehead as he ran to you. "Gojo, hey, I texted you and–"
"Hey..." He greeted, panting heavily.
You pursed your lips, getting a handkerchief from your pocket so you can wipe the sweat off his face. "Why did you leave them? Everyone was celebrating with you."
"You weren't there." He frowned. "What's the point of it..."
Satoru was tired after the game, but he was regaining his strength once he saw you.
"Nonsense." You chuckled, in which he frowned even more.
"I'll take you home." He said as he holds your hand to his, leading you to his car. "I invited you anyway, it's my responsibility to take care of you."
You nodded, getting in his car since you had been tired from all the crowd.
When he reached your home, he quickly got off so he could open the door for you.
Oh, the little things that he does.
You both stand outside of your house awkwardly, both trying to find the right words to say. You looked away, tapping your feet nervously as Satoru watches you.
"Congratulations... Satoru."
Satoru... Satoru... Satoru... His name never felt so good until you said it. It was like an achievement, a big prize that he won in his life. And his heart was almost about to explode when you finally called him by his name.
Satoru almost stuttered thanks to you. Slowly, he was approaching you until your back leaned in his car.
He closed his eyes, as his head fell on your shoulders. "Say that again... please?"
"Huh?" You were confused, your face blushing at the proximity. "Congratulations?"
"No... say my name... please, baby?"
His voice was so soft, desperately asking you to say the words he longed to hear from you. Satoru felt weak in his knees.
He looked up at you finally, his eyes searching your soul. Despite the darkness of the night, his eyes were glowing brighter than the moon.
"Satoru?"
"Fuck..."
Satoru Gojo knew he's in danger.
The moment he locked eyes with your eyes, looking at them until it darted on your lips. Before he knew it, he was leaning down for a kiss.
And fuck it, just how dangerous it was that you weren't even pulling away.
October 28, 2023
You were confused when you saw Satoru at your front door the next morning, his hands holding a bouquet of flowers. He looked absolutely handsome in his shirt, his sleeves tucked until his elbow.
You blush when you remember what happened last night. "Satoru, what are you doing here? It's a Saturday."
"I know," he said, handing you the bouquet of tulips. "I missed you."
"H-huh?"
"Will you allow me to take you out on a date?"
His heart was at bliss when you said yes to him. It was a simple coffee shop date, but you felt so happy as he made sure you were also comfortable and having fun. Having casual talks with you, but this time, there was a lying affection between you two.
And when he took you home, he slowly sealed your lips in a kiss. Exploring your mouth gently, smiling as he pulled away.
October 30, 2023
Satoru finally told Suguru he wants to stop whatever game they started with each other.
"Just about time you do."
Satoru swears he felt his ears heat up when Suguru said those words with a teasing grin. Shoko was laughing at his flushed state, clapping her hands in delight.
"Ah! I knew it!" She exclaimed. "Knew you were going to fall on your own trap. Well, that's actually good."
Satoru blushed even more. Finally, he can admit that he was starting to like you. Love you even.
In all honesty, he felt like he couldn't even live without you in his life. He felt like every moment with you was precious, and he was desperate to make you his, seriously this time.
All those times that he accompanied you to class, were influenced by his own choice. He could've just left you alone some days, but he didn't even know he was doing all those things unintentionally. Buying you snacks, and your coffee, he could've easily stopped that after every rejection, but he chose not to.
Gojo Satoru wanted to always be a part of your day. He was already a part of your present, and he wants to be there in your past, and still be in your future.
November 3, 2023
Satoru, as usual, was eating lunch with you in the cafeteria. Everyone in the school knew by now that he was not entertaining anyone anymore, just you. And he made it that obvious, looking at you so lovingly everyone who passed by would've looked at you in envy.
"Why aren't you with Shoko and Suguru?" You asked as you take a sip of your coffee. You looked over to the table where his friends sat, both busy at whatever conversation they had.
"They don't mind." Satoru replied, scooting closer in your seat. "You should get used to it by now."
"To what?"
"Sitting with you during lunch." He smiled when you looked away. "I like being with you."
Your mind wandered off somewhere when he said that. Does he like you or does he like the company that you give?
November 10, 2023
Satoru was frowning at you when he saw you sitting with another guy in the library. At your usual spot, in his seat, in front of you. He was annoyed that someone even had the guts to make a move to you.
Slowly, with heavy steps, he approached your table, sitting at the vacant chair next to you. His hands wrapped itself between your waist, as his jealousy pulled him to kiss your cheek in front of your innocent classmate.
"Baby..." He whispered closely in your ear. "I was looking for you."
He looked in front to shoot daggers at the guy you were with. The innocent stranger blushed as he looked away, "Uh... I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I'll message you if I need help."
The guy hurried on his feet, stumbling as he exited the library. Satoru's arms tighten on your waist and you looked at his angry face.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Who is he and why is he going to message you?" A frown was evident in his face, and he was getting a little too close. You had never seen him this intimidated.
"That's my partner for a group project, idiot." You muttered the last word. "You scared him off."
Satoru pulled you close, nuzzling his nose against your temple. "It's annoying..."
"What's annoying?"
Satoru cursed under his breath, "Come on, I'll take you out to dinner."
But while he was driving, it was painfully silent. You're not used to this kind of mood, he was always playful and teasing, but now, he was glaring ahead at the car in front of him, as if the car did something wrong.
His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and for some reason, you find yourself putting your hands above his, running circles on his tensed ones.
His hold loosened up a bit, and he sighed heavily.
"Tell me, what's wrong, Satoru."
Satoru pulled over to the side, facing you with a nervous face. "I'm sorry..."
"For what?"
"I was... jealous." He answered truthfully. He frowned, not liking the feeling twisting in his stomach. "I've never felt this before, baby. I want to keep you to myself, to always have you by my side and not anyone else, and it's so selfish that I hate myself for it. You're driving me crazy, and fuck it, I love you. I love you for making me like this. You don't understand... I'm head over heels–"
You interrupted him with a kiss. Satoru didn't even realize that he was already confessing, not until he felt your mouth against his.
It felt like there were fireworks exploding in your surroundings. Feels like he was finally breathing for the first time ever. Like the summer melting his winter.
"I love you too, Satoru."
He felt like dying right then and there, cupping your cheeks in a hungry kiss. Pulling you to his lap as you both make out in his car.
"Can I be your boyfriend?"
How can he be so cute, muttering those words weakly underneath you?
His question was not even a 'will you be my girlfriend' but a 'can i be your boyfriend?'
It was so cute. He was asking you your permission, he was asking to be yours.
He was... surrendering his heart to you.
And who were you to deny him?
November 20, 2023
You found out Gojo Satoru is a clingy man. It was obvious, the first time that he never left you alone, but this time, it only got worse, in a good way though.
He holds your hand when you're together, not even caring when girls would look at the two of you jealously. He doesn't care if a teacher sees him snuggling his face against your neck, he just wants to be that close to you. He will ask for a cuddle every time you two spend your time in your house. He would dart his tongue out teasingly at Shoko and Suguru when all of you sat at the same table, and he was hugging your waist and leaning his head on your shoulder. And when you two are in a private space, especially his car, he'd pull you in his lap for a long make out session.
You weren't even complaining, since you loved him just as much.
"Utahime!" You smiled when you saw your best friend in the cafeteria. "Haven't seen you in a while."
Utahime gave out a tired sigh. "I know, the professor is always giving out so many tasks, I might pass out anytime soon." She chuckled. "How are you? You and Gojo? He's like a lovesick puppy always sticking by your tail."
You chuckled. "That's so exaggerated, Utahime... But I'm really really happy."
Utahime was glad to hear her only best friend was this happy. She was thanking god that Gojo finally decided to be serious over a girl for once, and if he ever just breaks your heart, she'd be so sure to be the first to kick his ass.
December 4, 2023
"You're still with her?" Gojo's ex flings, Jia, asked him during his basketball training. Jia was the cheerleader girl that you saw him with in the parking lot, the fling that Satoru had for a month, longer than usual. He already rejected her, but she's still desperately trying to get with him.
"Of course, I am." He muttered, annoyingly. He snatched the towel that she was holding, her attempt to help him wipe his sweat. "Jia, I already told you–"
"Isn't she just a bet?"
Satoru froze, as if a bucket of ice was dropped all over his body. Her voice rang in his head, and he blinked furiously a few times.
"She's not–"
"But I heard you and Geto." Jia smirked, knowing she was just pushing the right buttons. "Come on, you were at the cafeteria, were you not expecting someone to hear you? I was pitying her when I saw the poor girl slowly starting to–"
"Whatever you heard, Jia, is none of your business." Satoru said in a cold-hearted tone. "I love her. Get that in that little brain of yours." He scoffed, walking away.
Jia was furious, her eyes turning black in anger. Oh, she wanted to hurt you. She was the last fling of Satoru, and just because of you, he was acting like this. She didn't like the fact that you easily stole him from her.
December 13, 2023
The fall. The breaking point.
Suguru was having a party in his house, a public year-end party with a few of his college friends and blockmates, everyone was invited to have fun. Satoru took you with him, making sure to just stay by your side so you won't get lost at the sea of people.
"How are you two holding up?" Suguru approached you two, handing a cup to Satoru. "You two having fun?"
You nodded your head quietly. "Yeah... there's a lot of people. Are they all from our university?"
"Some are outsiders," Suguru chuckled. "Satoru, we're about to play by the pool. We'll wait for you there."
Satoru nodded, pulling you by the waist as Suguru left. "You okay, baby? Do you want to go home?"
You shake your head, "No, no, it's fine. We can stay a bit more."
"Mhmm, just tell me if you get tired, okay?"
You two walked together to the backyard, where the swimming pool was at. It was a bit crowded, but definitely fewer than inside Suguru's house. Shoko was there, a few of Suguru's friends, and Satoru's basketball teammates. They were all passing out their drinks, mixing whatever liquor was there.
Everyone said hi to Satoru, even to you. You watched silently as a few of his friends talked to him.
"Satoru, I'll go to Shoko first." You whispered above the noise. He turned his head at you, stopping his conversation with his friends.
"What? I'll go with you then–"
"No, it's fine, Shoko's just there." You said, pointing at Shoko who was lighting a cigarette right next to Suguru. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
Satoru nodded reluctantly as he let you approach Shoko and Suguru, turning back to his friends, glancing at you once in a while.
But when he wasn't looking, Jia just had the perfect timing to enter the scene, stopping you midway.
"Oh, it's Satoru's little toy." Jia slurred her words. You looked at her confused as she looked at you judging. "He's still not breaking up with you? He wants to hurt you that bad, huh?" She chuckled.
You were trying to assess her words. You recognized her as the cheerleader Satoru was with last time, and her aura and words were making you nervous. What was she trying to say? What did she mean by that?
Satoru saw you, and his breath hitch when he saw who you are with. He looked over at Shoko and Suguru, who both stood up to approach you, but Jia was already taking advantage of you being alone.
"Poor girl," she frowned teasingly. "I'm pretty sure Satoru didn't want to go too far with the bet."
"Bet?" Your voice came out hoarse. You looked over at Jia's shoulder, where Shoko and Suguru stood frozen in their spot, their eyes widened in horror, and it gave you just enough explanation about what's happening.
"Oh, they were just betting about how Satoru can make you fall in love 'til December." She laughed wickedly. "I'm sorry, honey, you had to find out this way, but really, I was feeling sorry that I have to tell you–"
Her words were cut short when you felt a hand on your wrist. And you turned to see Satoru, his eyes red and shaking, "Baby..."
"Satoru? Was that true?" You looked into his eyes, hopeful. Your eyes welled up in tears, and his silence just made it worse. His hold on you was trembling, and he couldn't even say the right words out of his mouth.
You looked at Suguru and Shoko, your eyes pleading. "Shoko? Suguru?"
Another silence. It's like something was pulling the strings of your heart, threatening to cut your lifeline. And it hurt so much when they couldn't even say something.
You heaved a gasp, trying to stop a sob to escape your lips. But you failed miserably as Satoru tried to pull you in his embrace. "Let me explain–"
You pushed him away furiously, eyes angrily glaring at him. "Explain? Explain what?! That what she said was true?!"
Satoru's hands balled in a fist, and he felt his eyes burning as you pushed him away from his touch. His heart aches when you look at him full of hatred, and hurt. He felt his world slowly crumbling apart when you ran away in a hurry.
You quickly called Utahime, asking her to pick you up as soon as possible. While Satoru stood there helpless, his feet glued to the ground. He looked at Suguru, his eyes searching for help.
All of you were equally shocked, and nervous.
"Fucking go after her, Satoru!" Shoko shouted as she pulled Jia's hair. "Fucking bitch!"
The latter cried, but Satoru couldn't care less as Suguru pushed him to move. As fast as he could, he ran outside the door of Suguru's house, walking past every dancing body, he didn't even care if he crashed into someone, he just wanted to get to you.
And when he found you walking by the sidewalk, his heart started crying at your panicked state. He approached you, holding your wrist to stop you from walking any further.
"Satoru!"
"Let's talk, please–"
"Let go of me!"
"Let's talk, baby. Let's talk this out." He pleaded desperately, hands grasping your shoulders to stop you from moving.
Your body trembled against him, hands covering your face as you tried to stop your tears from falling continuously. "I hate you."
"I know you do–"
"Fucking jerk."
"I know, I know–"
"Don't touch me!" You burst, pushing him away harshly. His heart crashed into pieces, his breath coming out shallow and slow. Just like you, he was crying just as bad. "I knew! I knew from the very start you were up to no good! Utahime warned me, my friends warned me! But fuck you! I thought you actually cared! I thought you loved–"
"I love you, baby..." He said, weakly.
"You lying skim! I thought you changed!"
"Please, baby, let's talk about this when we're not angry? Please?" He tried to reach out for you, but his heart felt like it was losing its strength when you back away.
"I don't want to see you–"
"N-no, you don't mean that..." His voice came out as a whisper, a desperate plea for you to listen to him. "I'll take you home, we'll talk, okay? I'll explain and–"
"There's no use, Gojo."
Cruel. How cruel of you to say his last name so coldly. It was a sign that Satoru refused to look at. A sign that you were tired, that you want to let this go already.
His beautiful blue eyes seemed to lose its life, the same way that he was losing you. One moment, you were there by his side, and now... you looked at him as if you wanted to get him out of your life.
And it hurt so bad. It hurt so bad when he tried to touch you, but you still furiously backed away.
"I love you." His voice cracked, looking at you weakly. His hands shake by his side, fighting the urge to reach out for you.
You breathed heavily, shaking your head at him as you said nothing back. You clenched your teeth, not wanting to let him hear your sobs. You're starting to pity yourself, of how stupid you had become. You should've listened to Utahime the first time.
December 14, 2023
Satoru had never felt this lifeless before. Even Shoko and Suguru couldn't help him as he refused to talk to any of them.
His eyes were searching for you everywhere in the cafeteria, but to his dismay, you never showed up the whole day, not even in your classes. He wanted to ask Utahime when he saw her walking down the hallways, but the girl only glared at him as she walked passed. And Gojo was just as helpless as ever.
He messaged and called you a few times, but you didn't answer. He wanted to go to your house, but he can't even find the courage to do it.
December 15, 2023
Satoru finally saw you after a day of absence. You looked tired, and he was mentally cursing at himself for making you like this. He was starting to hate himself, and he's not going to forgive himself anytime soon.
Satoru tried to approach you, but you didn't even dare look him in the eye. He bit his lower lip, trying his hardest to stabilize his breathing. Just like he usually does, he walks you to class, only a few steps behind this time.
Fine, he'll settle for this. He'll give you the space you needed first before anything else.
At the cafeteria, he didn't see you once again. That worried him as he left Shoko and Suguru to look for you. The first place he thought of was the library, and he was glad to see you there.
You glanced up from your book, feeling someone staring at you. And you were right as your eyes met with Satoru, and your heart ached as your brows furrowed at him.
You looked away, trying not to be affected.
All throughout the day, Satoru thought of you and your last interaction. Every time the memory flashed in his mind, he wanted to punch himself. Hurt himself twice as much.
He fucked up so bad, and he wanted to make it up to you.
So he finally had the courage to wait outside your classroom's door after his class, waiting for the professor to dismiss everyone. He didn't waste anymore time as he got by your side quickly when you walked out the door.
Your name rolled out his tongue slowly, and you stopped dead on your track.
"I'll t-take you home..." He stuttered, his eyes searching yours for any emotion. But your eyes were dead, not even a single anger, or love for him in there.
"I'm fine, Gojo. You can go away–"
"I'm not going away."
You turned to him furiously. It was like you two are back to square one, to the first time you two met, and no one should ever forget that Gojo Satoru was persistent. But this time, two hearts were breaking and in a need to mend.
"P-please, let's talk–"
You didn't respond as you walked away fast, but damn his legs for always being able to keep up with you. Despite how Satoru took the hint that you don't want to talk to him, he still didn't care. It didn't matter to Satoru if he couldn't take you home with his car, he'll walk with you instead, like how he used to.
He'll be quiet. He just wants to be with you.
December 16, 2023
You hated Saturday classes. And you hate it even more that Satoru Gojo was tailing you behind. Trying his best to get you to talk to him.
"Baby–"
"Don't call me that."
He coughed awkwardly, blinking his tears away. "You didn't eat lunch today again, let me take you–"
"Cut the crap, Gojo."
He gulped when you looked at him, with hatred in your eyes.
Maybe, just maybe he can settle for this. Look at him. Just look at him. At least look at him, even if you don't want to love him anymore. It's fine. He understands. Just look at him.
"Stop with the act already. I'm so tired of it. I'm so tired of you."
"I'm sorry..." He muttered against his breath. "But I can't. Not until you listen to me." Not until you take him back.
"There's nothing for you to explain anymore, Gojo. I've had enough, and I get it. I understand as bright as day that it was just a game–"
"It's fucking not." He gritted his teeth. As much as he didn't want to be harsh, he was so desperate in wanting you to lend your ears to him. "It wasn't a game for me. And I did love you. I fucking love you still. Yes, it was a bet at first, but I told Suguru that I wanted to stop. He knows just how much I love you. Shoko knows. Fucking everyone knows at this point. Why can't you just listen to me?"
He catches his breath as he finishes voicing out his words. But no, you were a little hard in the head. You wouldn't believe him that fast. You didn't want to hurt your heart again.
"I don't love you."
You didn't know what gave you the urge to say that. It wasn't really true, but the wrong words seem to be the only right words to cut it out.
If Satoru's heart is already breaking, he was sure it is now turning into ashes. You're a liar, he tried to convince himself. You love him, and he's not about to give up just yet.
December 18, 2023
You can hurt Satoru how much you want, but that will never stop him from loving and chasing after you.
Another frustrated sigh came out from you when he left a cookie on your table to your first class, with a note saying, 'I love you. Don't forget to eat.' with his name underneath and a heart. You didn't even know how he managed to put these on your table so early in the morning, and your heart just wants to surrender.
But no, you're not.
So, even if it comes out too heartless, you offered the cookie to the person next to you as you crumpled the note, throwing it away inside your bag so no one would see it.
During lunch, Satoru saw you at your usual table, and tried to sit with you. But you got up in a hurry, pulling Utahime who just got back from the bathroom with you.
Being angry at him is one thing, but avoiding him? No, he can't take that. He'd rather have you stay mad at him, scream and hurt him verbally, even slap him if you want, but giving him the cold shoulder was you telling him that he doesn't exist in your world anymore. Satoru's heart is barely living at this point.
Satoru cursed to himself, standing up and going back to Shoko and Suguru who looked at him with a sad smile.
"Give it time, Satoru."
But time doesn't seem to be on his side.
And fate doesn't get along with you on your most desperate days as you watched the rain poured down once again. It was like deja vu. Standing outside the building, waiting for the rain to stop so you can go home.
But the rain was falling a little too harsh, and you know it's not about to stop anytime soon. It was like the rain also had a turmoil within itself, crying heavily just the same way your heart did.
You hate yourself for always forgetting an umbrella as you take a step, lifting your bag to your head, as you let the rain soak your clothes. It's the last day of school today anyway, you're finally taking your Christmas vacation tomorrow, and it wouldn't hurt to get sick for a few days.
Unbeknownst to you, Satoru comes to the rescue at the right time.
He held an umbrella as he ran after you, being careful as he strides so he won't trip on his feet.
He called your name, stopping shortly when he finally got you under the umbrella and pulling you close by the waist.
"I'll take you home." He shouted above the rain.
Your body trembled in the cold, and Satoru was embracing you like he used to. He didn't even mind if you got his clothes wet. But you still have the guts to push him away. "No! I can go home by myself!"
"Stop being stubborn!" Despite holding you with one hand, his other hand holding the umbrella, he still managed to keep you on your feet, his hand squeezing your waist tightly.
"Gojo–"
"Stop it!"
"Let go of me!"
"You're going to get sick!"
"I don't fucking care!"
"No, I'll take you home–"
"Gojo Satoru!"
Satoru gave up as you writhed from his embrace. He dropped his umbrella, using both his hands to grab your waist, and kissing you in the rain.
His tongue was invading, seeking every corner of your mouth desperately. Fuck, he missed this. He missed you so much. And he didn't even care if the rain was slowly ruining his hair and clothes, as long as he had you right here in his arms.
It was a dangerous dance underneath the cold waters beneath the rain. Two lovers, hopelessly trying to heal their broken hearts. Their lips tangled together like it was their last chance to be like this again.
"Satoru..."
"I'll take you home..."
How did you let yourself become weak for him?
You handed him a towel as both of you entered your home. Despite how upset you are with him, you couldn't possibly just leave him wet by the rain and catch a cold. You were just being nice, you said to yourself. It's not because of your affection towards him, you're just being a helpful woman who still has a heart so you invited him into your house. Thats it, that's all there is, perhaps.
Before you can leave him, Satoru holds your hand, electrifying the two of you to stop you from your tracks. You tried to look at him in the eye, but it was impossible. Satoru doesn't even try to hide how much he's hurting in front of you, and that just doubles the pain that you're feeling right now.
"Let's talk..." He said weakly. "Please? I'm not leaving if we don't talk."
"Satoru, please, just let it go..."
"No," he shakes his head stubbornly. "You mean so much to me."
Your breath hitched as he pulled you close, cupping your cheeks with both hands as he leaned his forehead against yours.
"It's true, we did make a bet..." He closed his eyes, the words falling in his mouth felt like daggers shot straight to his heart. "And I hate myself for it. For being a prideful jerk who wanted to prove he can have whoever he wants, and hurting you in the process..."
Satoru breathed heavily, his hands rubbing circles on your cheek. "Before I knew it, I was down badly on my knees. I wanted you. I love you. I wanted to spend each and every waking moment with you. And I told Suguru, and Shoko, that I wanted to stop whatever game we agreed upon, so I can start loving you truthfully..."
"Satoru..."
"And I felt so alive, baby. When you told me you love me too, when you let me be your boyfriend, when you finally accepted my love for you. Fuck, I can die a happy man. I just... love you. I love being loved by you. I love it when you let me love you. I love it when you do nothing and it just drives me wild. I love it every time I see your eyes looking at me. I love hearing your voice, seeing you smile, and love it even more when you let me hold your hand! I love every single piece of your soul, and I want you. I want to always be with you. My heart aches for you, baby... please..."
He was crying. Oh, god, he was crying as he confessed everything to you. And you swear your heart wants to come out from your chest.
Your heart was swelling, he was mending your bruises, healing your scars in every word he uttered. Your tears were falling nonstop, and your hands quiver to place it above his.
"Satoru..." You sobbed, looking at his helpless blue eyes who'd been crying buckets as well. "I hate the fact that I love you so much."
Satoru heaved a gasp as he pulled you to his embrace, sealing you in a wet kiss. Somehow, it didn't even feel cold anymore now that you have your arms around him again.
His face settled on your neck, and he was catching his breath. He ran his hands in your hair, holding you tight as if he was afraid to let you go.
"Don't leave me again..."
"I won't. I promise." You let out a low chuckle. This time, you cupped his cheek so he could look at you. "I love you so much, Satoru. I'm so sorry for hurting you."
"I deserved it." He smiled. Finally, he was smiling at you. "And I love you more."
Satoru made sure he's not letting you escape this time. Everyday, he's going to make it up to you. He's going to tell you how much he loves you, and he's going to make sure you'll never even forget it until you fall asleep. He's going to love you like it's breathing, and he promised to himself he's going to love you until the next lifetime.
***
i know i said I'll do the part 2 of my Suguru fic, but im so sorry this was in my head for ages 😭 i promised ill start part 2 in a while... anyways, thanks for reading! its not proofread so im sorry for any typographical errors and spelling ^^
#gojo angst#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#jujutsu gojo#jjk gojo#suguru geto#geto suguru#satorugojo#satoru gojo#jujutsu satoru#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#shoko ieiri#jjk shoko#jujutsu kaisen shoko#jujutsu shoko#utahime iori#iori utahime#jjk utahime#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk angst#jjk comfort
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"is your girlfriend single?" ☆ enha maknaes
☆ youtuber! non-idol! bf! enhypen maknae line x fem! reader
☆ summary: when your youtuber boyfriend finally shows you for the first time to his audience.
☆ genre: fluff, very dumb, jelly boys
☆ warning(s)? no!
☆ ygs seemed to like the hyung version so here's the maknae version!! reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
hyung ver.
sunoo ☆
OKAY HEAR ME OUT
this one is gonna be a lil different
paranormal investigator sunoo
he's like buzzfeed unsolved
and for one of his seasons, he goes and investigates haunted places and reviews their histories yk?
for the season finale
sunoo visits the bellaire house, which is notorious for being super haunted and ghost-infested
i like to think that sunoo is honestly skeptical abt ghosts
like he definitely has tried to talk to them, but hasn't discovered anything conclusive to definitively prove the existence of ghosts
anyways because it's the season finale
sunoo has a special guest...
you! his gf!
i think he'd be low key about your relationship, but his viewers know who you are
the video starts off normal
sunoo gives a rundown of the history of the bellaire house, like when it was built, the people that lived in it, the strange occurences in there, etc
the bickering between you and sunoo as you go over the bellaire house is very cute and sweet
it definitely makes it into those "sunoo and [name] being a comedic duo" compilations aw
anyways now its time to investigate the bellaire house head on 😈
sunoo pulls out all his cool ghost-catching gadgets
he tries everything
like the thermal camera, EMF meter, even the goddamn magnetic field detector
sunoos getting annoyed bc why are none of the ghosts talking to him :(
on the other hand
you're clinging onto him, hiding behind ur bf scared shitless
i mean like.... why would you not the bellaire house is known for having DEMONS 😭😭
sunoo huffs and turns to the camera, "welp it looks like there's no ghosts here"
one of the people in his camera crew suggest having you ask instead of him
even though youre scared you do it for ur bf
you're like "hi ghosts..... if you're here with us... please flicker the lights"
.
.
.
THE LIGHTS BEGIN TO FLICKER AAAAAAAA
AND SUNOOS HYPED OUT OF HIS MIND
"BABE BABE BABE ASK THEM THEIR NAME"
so youre like "ghosts... whats your name"
and NO JOKE
A WIND BLOWS PAST THE ROOM
AND EVERYONE IN THE ROOM SWEARS THEY HEAR SOMEONE WHISPER FAINTLY
"robert"
so that's how you and sunoo meet robert the ghost
BUT THAT'S NOT THE END
BECAUSE SUNOO HAS THE BRILLIANT IDEA OF PULLING OUT HIS OUIJA BOARD
tbh you both look dumb as hell
sitting on the crusty bellaire house floor
hunched over a ouija board
sunoo is now asking questions
but the ouija board doesn't even move
but when you ask
"robert, how are you today? yes for good, and no for bad"
THE GODDAMN PLANCHETTE MOVES TO YES AKA GOOD 😭
you and sunoo then introduce yourselves
again, when sunoo introduces himself nothing happens
but when you introduce yourself
the candle that's lit beside you goes out
someone in sunoo's camera crew jokes that they think that robert the ghost likes you
so sunoo jokingly asks "robert are you flirting with my girlfriend?"
AND THE OUIJA BOARD SAYS YES 😭😭😭
and when you kiss sunoo the doors in the house start slamming and shit like SOMEONES MAD
sunoo is lowk offended
and then he starts to beef with robert the ghost
except robert the ghost never respond to anything that sunoo says
bro leaves sunoo on heard
sunoos like "HEY ROBERT I DON'T CARE IF YOURE A DEMON YOU BETTER BACK THE FUCK UP!!"
later when ygs review the emf recorder it picks up robert the ghost whispering "i don't care 🙄"
sassy ass ghost
on the other hand
robert responds to EVERYTHING you say
atp you're not scared anymore
"hai robert i'm [name], knock over that doll over there if you want to be my friend"
and the doll knocks over 😭
"robert knock on the window if you think i'm cute :3"
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
the camera crew is just laughing their asses off
at some point
the ouija board starts moving on its own
everyones like WOAHHH IT'S ACTUALLY MOVING!!! QUICK GET A PIECE OF PAPER SO WE CAN RECORD WHAT ITS SAYING!!!
sunoo is taking such dilligent notes
it starts with i, then s, then it spells out your name, and then s, i, n, g, l, e
" ' IS [NAME] SINGLE' ???"
is what the ouija board says
yes a goddamn ghost just asked that
SUNOO IS NOT HAVING IT
while you and the camera crew are cracking up
sunoo starts telling off robert
"listen bro just because you died in the bellaire house doesn't mean that you can try to take my gf 😐"
robert the ghost is being sassy too
so sunoo literally just snaps the ouija board in half
"haha you can't talk anymore robert .😐."
yk how in buzzfeed unsolved they take turns staying in the haunted place alone with all the lights off
sunoo kicks everyone out so that he can have a "man to man" talk with robert
robert isn't a physical person but everyone swears they hear crying
.... and it sure isn't coming from sunoo 😇
i think this would go really viral
"[name] is so beautiful that even dead people want her"
"robert the ghost is so me"
"even ghosts aren't immune to beautiful women"
"robert saw a hot woman and took his chance"
this would become an inside joke within sunoo's fandom fs
sunoo isn't having it though
he definitely still tweets about it
"i remember when some loser ghost tried to take my girlfriend"
"robert fuck you i'm glad you died"
"see you hell robert"
i def think robert is scared of sunoo now
LMAO
jungwon ☆
jungwon is documentary youtuber
he likes to make short documentaries about topics that he likes
kinda like wendigoon or fern or real horror
i feel like he'd have a super high quality mic that's super crisp
i think he'd like to make iceberg videos, or videos about obscure missing people stories
anyways
jungwon has a whiteboard that he uses to explain things
esp like timelines
but in one of his videos he doesn't use the whiteboard so it's in the background
so you write a little message on it
its just a very simple
"[name] was here :3 !!"
i feel like only a few people notice it
but as more and more videos pass
and jungwon doesn't use the whiteboard
your little messages get bigger and bigger
until one day the entire board is filled up with just "[NAME] WAS HERE!!!"
sorry i think a lot of jungwon's viewerbase would be redditors, just given what his content is like
r/jungwon LMAAOAOAO
on there someone brings it up
theyre like "who is [name]"
some ppl suggest that it's probably a friend or his gf
it's pretty chill tbh, his viewerbase isn't really too concerned
until one day
jungwon does one of those investigating 411 missing persons cases
except ygs live near one of the places where someone went missing
so he's physically walking along the path where someone went missing as he tells the story
poor baby is lowk kinda scared tho so he takes you along with him
youre mostly behind the camera but you do talk
at the beginning of the video he's like
"hi guys i'm joined by my girlfriend today"
you pop into frame to say hi
anyways like i said you do talk during this video
like as jungwon tells the story you're reacting behind the camera
"it's crazy that a 4 year old traversed 30 miles up a mountain in a matter of 30 hours..."
and behind the camera you're like "omg no way that's wild 😱😱😱"
youre like genuinely invested
you're also cracking a lot of jokes w him too
its really sweet bc most of his videos jungwon is alone, but since youre in this w him, he's smiling so much ;(
and like everytime he makes a joke you can see him looking off-camera to look at your reaction
and when you laugh everyone can literally see how proud he is
this video so SUPER well received
his comment section is so sweet
"i've never seen jungwon smile so much, he's so in love with [name] :("
"the way you can tell jungwon is proud when [name] laughs at his jokes"
but i think the most common type of comment are those type stamp ones
"at 1:23 [name]'s laugh is so cute!"
"0:58 when the camera panned over to [name] my jaw dropped... she's gorgeous!"
"5:29 [NAME] IS SO FUNNY I LOVE HER"
"at 4:40 i love the way [name] completes jungwon's sentence, i've never seen two people that are just so perfect for each other"
yk how on youtube there's that feature where you can see the most replayed part?
when you pop into frame that's the most replayed part of his video 😭
his viewerbase on reddit probably posts you
like its a screenshot from the video and theyre like "it's [name]! the one on the whiteboard!"
i think his fanbase would be really nice on reddit too :(
"she's so pretty!"
"jungwon has immaculate taste"
indeed he does <3
he's so proud of you, like i think he definitely looks at the comments and screenshots them to keep reading them
like YES THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND
HOWEVER
jungwon makes those "going through my subreddit" videos
and he comes across a post hyping you up
at first hes liek "YES YES YES MY GF IS SO BEAUTIFUL"
but then the comments on the post are like
"she's so beautiful, do ygs think she's single?"
"hi [name] 😏 (i am the ceo of amazon and read feminist literature books btw)"
obv all jokes
and jungwon's face visibly drops
he gives the camera a MAD side eye
a STINK EYE
jungwons like "all right, who said that 🤨"
AND THEN HE REPORTS AND BANS THEM 😭
he makes posts on his subreddit like "all of u are going missing next time i see shit like this"
HELP
riki ☆
sorry he's a shitposter
i think riki posts those genshin impact and fortnite playthroughs
but he also posts other gamer things
but he actually has a good fanbase
he's at like 900k subscribers even though he doesn't have a fixed upload schedule or specific genre of post
he's never showed his face like ever on his channel, but he definitely shows his personality through editing, video descriptions, and community posts
one day though
riki randomly posts a video titled "me and my girlfriend at the arcade"
and its a video of you and him on an arcade date :(
the majority of it is him behind the camera recording you as you play games
the way you can hear him chuckling behind the camera as you have cute reactions :((((
but there's also times where he's on camera
like when he's playing with the claw machine
and bc riki is a pro
he wins a you giant teddy bear!!
your cute lil cheers when he wins are like the most replayed part of the video
he takes such cute pictures of you hugging the bear aw
honestly his viewers are surprised when he posts the video
bc he used to be posting genshin impact videos why is there a vlog
but theyre not complaining
this video becomes one of his most viewed
since youre most of the video there's a lot of comments abt you
and i think his audience is close enough with riki to shit on him LMAAOAO
"[name] is so sweet i wanna hug her"
"i wish i was a teddy bear..."
"SHE'S SO CUTE"
"move aside riki"
"is [name] single by any chance"
"omg who is that weird random guy (riki) that keeps coming near you [name] is he bothering you queen"
"[name] who is this random guy are you cheating on me"
riki responds to these comments too
"you can't have her" "too bad she's lying in my arms right now" "she just kissed me" "do want want my girlfriend or a black eye"
he definitely starts fights
i think his video is so viral that he gets ppl outside his audience
and some ppl get mad when riki fights back 😭😭😭
“why is he fighting people they’re clearing joking” and riki responds like “yeah why is he fighting 🤬🤬🤬😡😡😡”
and then riki gets petty
and makes a video called
"addressing everything."
its like a logan paul apology video
it's also like 30 seconds 😭
"hi all... i just wanted to come here and apologize... for having a HOT GIRLFRIEND" and then he flips off the camera and it cuts off with you saying "babe?--"
lowk goes viral for it LMAO
behold the keyboard warrior trilogy- heehoonki ☠️
in the future riki does post more of your cute vlogs
and in the descriptions he's just ranting abt how much he loves you
lowk all the vlogs are basically just him admiring you
cuties
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#sunoo#kim sunoo#sunoo enhypen#sunoo fluff#sunoo imagines#sunoo x reader#jungwon#jungwon x reader#jungwon imagines#jungwon fluff#enhypen riki#nishimura riki#riki x reader#riki fluff#niki fluff#niki x reader#star-sim#vanya-writes
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snow spider ; miguel o'hara.
pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.
words ; 4.4k
themes ; fluff, slight angst
warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)
a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!
main masterlist.
You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly.
When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow.
“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.
Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.
“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”
A beat of silence.
“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard.
You took a step back. “My universe…?”
After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”
You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best.
But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.
It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.
Right?
“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him.
The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto.
Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you.
“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!”
Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.
“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”
Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air.
Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view.
“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless.
Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.
Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples.
Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense.
Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.
Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”
A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit.
“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”
“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.”
“But you’re hurt.”
“I’ll heal.”
With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.
“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”
You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained.
“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.”
There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.
You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”
Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.
If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.
“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”
The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.
“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.
“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”
“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression.
“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”
You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!”
His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”
“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”
With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out.
“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”
Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”
Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.
Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”
To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.
“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence.
You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”
The months pass by in a blur.
You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him.
“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier.
“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”
You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.
“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”
With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”
The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal.
Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.
As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip.
“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.
Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”
Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.
Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.
But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.
Then there was you.
It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.
Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—
To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.
It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face.
“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”
“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”
“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”
Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”
Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps.
You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.
“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.”
“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”
You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”
“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!”
You blinked.
“What?”
Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.
“What?” he parroted.
“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”
“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?”
Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”
You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.
Miguel was crazy about you?
After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).
“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”
“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.
He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”
“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”
Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”
There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.
“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago.
You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips.
With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.
“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”
A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.
The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?”
Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.
Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.
You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite.
“Oka—mmph!”
His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper.
When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.
“He was right,” said Miguel.
“Who was?”
“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”
You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”
At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”
You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”
His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you.
When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.
He was falling in love with you.
The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara angst#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara fanfic#across the spiderverse fanfiction#spiderverse fanfiction#miguel o'hara imagines#miguel o'hara#spider-man 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#atsv fanfiction
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈)
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader
Summary: After you reveal the truth of what your relationship really was between you and Miguel, everyone's keen on learning more. So what better way to give a little more insight than a dinner at your shared home?
Warnings: None~ Just back again with silly shenanigans and the softest of fluff :3
A/N: Hello, everyone! After the first part of 'What's In Between' blew up (you can read it here, thank you so much by the way, you're all so sweet), many people have asked for a part two, so here it is! Enjoy <3
The moment you break the news to them, the volume of the table booms to a fever pitch as everyone begins talking at the same time.
“W-WHAT?!”
“Married? No way,” Hobie says.
“How long have you been together?” Pavitr asks.
“I can’t say I saw this coming…” Miles says, eyes widening in surprise.
Miguel had been watching you the moment you snuck up on the group, but with the newfound panic from everyone he couldn’t help but make his way over to the commotion.
“You’re all being loud, what are you yelling about now?” Miguel asks, walking over and standing by your side.
“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL US YOU WERE MARRIED?!” Gwen shouts.
“You never asked,” he blinks, “and also, it’s none of your business.”
“Miguel, as your best friend I am deeply offended that you haven’t told me after this long, does our friendship mean nothing to you?” Peter says, hand on his chest in pretend hurt.
“You are not my best friend,” Miguel deadpans.
“After I opened up to you no less, I mean, you were the first person I told about Mayday! All the details-” he continues, ignoring the comment.
“Not by choice,” he mutters.
“Does no one know about this?? At all???” Pavitr asks, “I mean, you two are married.”
“I mean, Jess knows about it,” you gesture, and she only grins.
“And now all of you do too,” Miguel sighs. “Vida mía, I thought we talked about this,” he admonishes.
“Oh, c’mon, it was cute how they were all trying to figure it out for so long. I was starting to feel bad,” you say, smoothing your hair back. He only stares at you for a moment before sighing.
“Fine,” he relents, “Can’t do anything about it now anyway.” He smiles softly at you, and the group watches in awe as their cold leader softens in your presence, but his gaze quickly grows dark as he turns back to the group.
“One word of this to anyone outside of this group,” he says with a pointed finger before trailing off, allowing everyone to fill in the blanks as to what he might do.
Everyone’s faces pale like a sheet at the unnamed threat (well, except for Hobie, he only watches with blatant amusement on his face), but you only laugh.
“Miguel, don’t threaten the kids,” you giggle. “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,” you whisper to them with a wink.
“Hey, that’s what I say!” Peter says.
“You are his best friend after all,” you grin.
“I have never said those words a day in my life,” he scoffs, but you ignore him, eyes lighting up with an idea.
“Oh! I have a lovely idea, how about you all swing by our place for dinner later? We never have guests,” you suggest.
Gwen gasps, “Really?”
“This…maybe doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Miles says as he shrinks down in his seat at Miguel’s glare towards you.
“I have plans tonight…though I don’t think they’d mind if I cancel,” Hobie says nonchalantly, but everyone knew there was no way in hell he’d miss something like this.
“What am I, cat litter?” Jess asks. She was the only person to have been at your shared home, having joined around the same time as you, and being one of the few people Miguel fully trusts.
“You know it's not like that, Jess,” you turn to her with a grin.
“Absolutely not, it's already a liability that they know querida, now you want them traipsing into our home?” Miguel argues, and you narrow your eyes at him, never one to back down from a fight. While it got on his nerves, it's what he loved about you too. He needed someone that wouldn’t take his shit.
“Miguel,” you say, giving him a look. “All our enemies are literally in alternate universes who, aside from those small tears, have no way to go cross-dimensional, let alone find us in the expanse of a universe. Besides, I think it would be nice,” you say, and Mayday seems to agree since she climbs right up into your arms, babbling happily.
“And don’t think I don’t know you have a soft spot for this lil ragtag team,” you smile, bouncing up and down as Mayday laughs.
He huffs, “I am anything but soft, especially for them. They never listen, don’t follow protocol, are immature, and the list goes on.”
“He’s lying,” you whisper, covering your mouth from his direction as though that would stop him from happening. Mayday grabs your hand though, playing with your fingers happily. “See how his ears are turning red?”
At that, his ears turn more red and the group tries to stifle their snickers to no avail.
“Querida,” he warns. “Do you feel the need to share anything else about me? Or have you had enough,” he asks, poking your shoulder. You place a hand on his bicep with a gentle smile, and his expression softens much to his dismay.
“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you grin. “Alright, it’s settled then! You’re all coming over tonight.”
~
You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, preparing the food for dinnertime when everyone would be coming over.
Then, you feel the hair rise on the back of your neck as a familiar presence makes himself known, strong arms wrapping around your waist as his head rests on top of yours.
“Vida mía, the food smells good,” he says softly before sighing. “But I’m not very happy with you today.”
You let out a sigh of your own as you turn off the stove before turning around in his arms to face him.
“Miguel, my love,” you say, smoothing out the collar of the pullover he wore before looking up at him. “I know you well, don’t I?”
“More than anyone,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest amount as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
“Then it’s safe to assume that you’ve been wanting to hang out with more people in the Society apart from work-related things?” you ask, placing your hand on his chest.
“I can’t afford anything like that in this line of work, you know that querida,” he sighs, that familiar hardened look in his eyes for a moment.
“Miguel, your only friends can’t be me, Lyla and Jess,” you pout.
“Vida mía, you are my wife,” he says.
“Yes, and it's miracle enough that I was able to grow close enough to you to get to that point,” you chuckle, “so my existence in your life is proof itself that you are capable of growing close to people. I’ve seen you, I think you’re ready and deep down I know you don’t always want to be perceived as the cold and unfeeling leader of the Society. Why not start with them?”
“That’s not a decision for you to make,” he says, glancing away from you.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling a bit guilty that you threw Miguel into this without warning. “I should have spoken to you about it first but who knows. Maybe this is a good thing, opening your heart a little more,” you explain. “Don’t think I realize you’re the hardest on them because you believe in them,” you smile.
He huffs before pausing to think for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder when you snuck your little way into my head, querida.”
“Admit it, you’re growing soft,” you giggle softly.
“Never,” he counters, tickling your side which makes you scrunch up your face as you laugh breathlessly.
“OKAY! Okay, you’re one soft fluffy teddy bear, happy?” you say which only makes him continue with even more fervour.
“That is the most ridiculous thing I think I have ever heard you say, querida,” he snorts but finally relents.
“Yeah….I can’t even say that with a serious face,” you chuckle. “But you do have your moments, tough guy,” you smile, leaning up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. That’s when the doorbell rings, and immediately your eyes light up.
“Oh! They’re here!!” you say excitedly, escaping from his grasp as you move to open up the door.
“Here we go,” he murmurs to himself, and you turn to face him.
“What was that?” you ask.
“Nothing, vida mía,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes in disbelief.
“Behave, Miguel,” you tell him.
“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” he replies, and you grin before opening up the front door.
There, you find Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter (alongside Mayday of course), Hobie and Jess all standing outside, chatting amongst themselves before turning to you.
Miles almost looks like he’s in disbelief like he couldn’t really believe this was your home quite yet.
“Hi!” Gwen starts.
“Took you lot long enough,” Hobie says. “Was starting to think we'd have to build a fire and cook it ourselves.” Gwen punches his shoulder, to which he lets out a little “Ow!”
“Sorry about him,” Gwen apologizes.
You just find yourself laughing at it all though.
“No apologies needed, we were a little preoccupied. Come on in, make yourself at home,” you say, opening the door a little wider for them to make their way through.
“Not too at home though,” you hear Miguel say, leaning into the foyer from the living room, arms crossed over his chest.
“Ignore him,” you say, giving him a pointed look to which he just stares at you blankly. “Dinner will be ready soon, I just have to set the table and we can eat, alright?”
“It smells delicious,” Pavitr says, “I’m starving.”
Mayday seems to agree as she crawls up from the baby carrier onto Peter’s head, making grabby hands from the top.
“Someone’s hungry,” Peter chuckles. “Got anything she can eat?”
“I have a few things, don’t worry,” you smile.
“It really does smell really good though, but it always does,” Jess adds.
“It’s nothing special,” you say sheepishly. “Just some of Miguel’s favourites.”
You guide them all into the living room. “Settle in! I’ll be done in a snap,” you say.
As you make your way back to the kitchen (with Jess joining you to help out), back in the living room the squad of spiders settle in almost hesitantly, a watchful eye monitoring all of their reactions.
No one dares say anything, only sitting around nervously.
“So…nice weather we’re having,” Peter says, trying to lighten the mood but even Mayday gives him a deadpanned expression.
Miguel sighs. “You’re all acting like there’s a ticking time bomb waiting for you to speak before setting off,” he says, still leaning up against the doorway.
“We don’t know, mate. Is there?” Hobie jokes, but Miles’ face drops anyway.
“There isn’t, for the record. I can be harsh but I’m not evil,” Miguel scoffs before making eye contact with Pavitr who looks like he wanted to ask something but was holding back.
“One question,” he says simply with a nod.
“How long have you two been together?”
“…a little over 4 years now,” he replies.
“How did you meet?” Gwen asks.
“I said one question,” he says before your voice cuts in.
“My universe was one of the first he visited! He hated me back then, though,” you laugh as you walk back in. “Speaking of which!! I have some things you might all want to see after dinner,” you grin mischievously.
“I thought you said I was the one that had to behave, mi corazón,” Miguel says, a warning tone in his voice.
“And I am, aren’t I?” you say, poking his side playfully. “Anyway, dinner’s ready,” you say, leading them to the dining room. “I know it's not much but-”
“How in the hell is this not much??” Hobie exclaims, and you just shrug. “You should see dinner with my family, then you will think that it’s not much,” you say with a chuckle.
On the table sat a wide expanse of food, all of Miguel’s favourites from Mexico. Empanadas as the appetizer, alongside pozole, ceviche, enchiladas, and chicken with mole poblano all served with a side of rice, beans, or homemade corn tortillas depending on each person’s preference.
You can see Miguel’s eyes visibly brighten as he looks at the food, settling in at the head of the table with you by his side.
“Come eat!” As you say that, everyone sits down before beginning to eat, everyone heading straight to what appealed to them the most.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Miles says, eyes closed in bliss.
“Oye, don’t let your Mother hear that, kid,” Miguel says, but the corner of his lip was upturned in the tiniest of smiles. The most he would allow himself around this many people.
“Thank you, Miles,” you smile.
“This, uhh, how do you say it again? Poh-zuhl?” Gwen asks, and you laugh out loud as she turns pink, meanwhile both Miguel and Miles cringe slightly.
“I’m sorry for laughing, sweetheart. You’re almost there; it’s pronounced like ‘poh-zoh-lay’,” you say kindly.
“Ohh, okay gotcha. Pozole. It’s really good! Feels…comforting, almost,” she says.
“Yes,” you say, glancing at your husband with a soft smile, “it’s Miguel’s favourite. Says it ‘tastes like home’.” A chorus of ‘awws’ go around the table, while Miguel only holds the bridge of his nose with a sigh.
“Alright, alright. Enough with the cheesy stuff, let’s get back to eating, yeah?” Hobie says before shoving his fork back into his mouth.
~
Once dinner was finished (and after both Miles and Gwen insisted that they did the dishes despite much argument from you), everyone was settled again in the living room laughing and talking together, and while Miguel only said a few things here and there and sat by your side like a lost puppy, he did seem to be enjoying himself.
“Alright! Now, before everyone goes back home, I have one more thing I’d like to show you,” you say once it quiets down a bit. Standing up, you make your way over to a large bookshelf you and Miguel had built together when you first moved in together.
“I’ve gotten tired of having only myself to show these photos to, so this is the perfect opportunity,” you smile.
“Querida-” Miguel says, holding out a hand to block your way but you look at him with pleading eyes, and he can’t do anything but relent. He couldn’t say no when you looked at him like that.
With a triumphant ‘haha!’ you grab a photo album labelled with a date and a single word; ‘Ours’.
Everyone crowds around as you place it down on the coffee table, and you open it up to the first page.
Gwen is the one that gasps first, eyes wide with awe.
“You both look so beautiful,” she says softly.
There, front and centre was a photo of you and Miguel on your wedding day. You were smiling wide at the camera, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand while Miguel only looked at you with an expression so in awe it was as though you painted the stars in the sky.
“You clean up nicely, big man,” Hobie comments, and Pavitr nods.
“Weddings, my favourite,” Jess says, a fond expression on her face as she thinks back to her own husband.
“I had a bird fly into my face at my wedding…but they are nice,” Peter says, rocking Mayday gently as she naps away after the hearty dinner even despite the commotion.
You continue to flip through the photobook, pausing periodically for a little anecdote about each one. Miguel had long stood up to make room for everyone else, but he looked at you in the same way he did on your wedding day.
Like you were the light of his life, the one good thing he had amongst the millions of universes parallel to his own. Like you were his everything.
~
“Admit it, you like them,” you smile, the house finally quiet after everyone headed home. He only rolls his eyes before pulling you into his lap, his face going into the crook of your neck as he holds you close.
“There is a big difference between ‘liking’ and ‘tolerating’, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing circles into your hip soothingly.
“Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Whatever you say,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling into his touch with a happy sigh.
You both sit there for a moment in silence, the two of you weren’t ones to fill silence with mindless chatter. If words needn’t be said then they weren’t.
“That was…nice, though,” he admits softly after a little while.
“I know,” you whisper.
~
~
~
“That won’t happen again for a long while though,” he says, pulling away to look at you, crimson eyes pleading with you wordlessly.
You can’t do anything but laugh.
Taglist (for those who requested a part two): @lotustv @mars-ifuknowmeirlplsgoaway @elliewilliamsactualgf @randomhumans-blog @iluvkonig @phillygraves @gothgirlziez
#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o hara#miguel ohara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#across the spider verse spoilers#across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099#spiderman#marvel
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𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — JAMES POTTER!
pairings ❧ james potter x reader
summary ❧ no one makes james potter feel the way that his girlfriend does and he definitely knows it
warnings ❧ female!reader, cheesy writing, lots of fluff, sunshine!reader, james is whipped for the reader, based on my girl, by the temptations, implications of wolfstar, pda, not proofread
word count ❧ 1.1k
additional notes ❧ my first james fic sort of blew up and i was feeling inspired to write another—thank you for all your support | i also have a longer version for this so let me know if you’re interested ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა
You’re James’ sunshine, you’re his bundle of light and happiness on a cloudy day, and you’re all of his favorite things mixed into one beautiful girl. To James, nothing can ever compare to the way you make him feel. Every time you look in his direction with those captivating eyes that always sparkle with love—love that you constantly spread across the school like it’s your only goal in life—to make people feel loved, special, wanted—unlike so many—your contagious smile that makes him feel all giddy and causes his stomach to flutter with excitement.
Everything you do, everything you are, makes James feel like one of those special recipients of all the love you have stored in your overflowing heart. James feels like the luckiest guy in the world to have the privilege of holding you in his arms during the cold winter nights spent in his dormitory, the early spring mornings strolling through the flower meadow the two of you found in the outskirts of Hogwarts, the hot summer days spent in the backyard of the Potter residence, and the cool autumn evenings feeling the cool breeze blowing the fallen leaves past your feet.
Even now, you stroll through the doors to the common room and look so effortlessly breathtaking. The elegance you seem to carry with you to every room you enter makes James’ heart race because you’re his girl and no one else can take you away from him.
Yours and James’ friends always know when you’ve entered a room, not just because your presence is enough alone, but because James always seems to have an absolutely stunned expression dancing across his face, almost as if his heart has stopped beating—this time it leads the group to tease the love sick boy.
“What’s got you all smiles, Prongs?” Sirius asks curiously and with a teasing smile he playfully nudges his best friend’s shoulder, earning no reaction from James—who seems to be mesmerized, by your presence, “Is it that girl of yours, again?”
“Is that even a question?” Lily scoffs lightly and with a dramatic roll of her eyes she gazes past the small crowd of people also entering the common room in an attempt to spot your radiant figure, “Of course it’s (Y/n).”
“Let’s ask the lover boy,” Marlene suggests with a sly grin and points the book she's currently reading towards James, before calling over to him teasingly while tilting her head to one side, “Oh, lover boy?”
“Yeah?” James responds without tearing his gaze away from you and when your eyes finally meet he can’t help but let out a captivated sigh, his eyes screaming his absolute admiration for you.
“See, here she comes now," Lily smirks, gesturing in the direction of you, as you continue to make your way towards the group, who are casually sitting in their respective spots around the room—Lily and Mary are sitting together on the couch closest to the blazing, however warm fire, Remus and Marlene are reading on the couch across from them, Sirius is comfortably situated on the floor between Remus’ legs, and finally James is sprawled out on a lounge chair angled directly towards his lovely girlfriend—you.
“Good morning, everyone.” You greet your friends with a loving smile, plop yourself down on James’ lap, and finally turn your long-craved attention toward your favorite boy, “Hey, Jamie.” You add sweetly and swiftly lean over to plant your soft, addicting lips upon his flushed cheek.
“Good morning, love.” James replies, adjusting his hands on your hips in order to pull your back flush against his chest—something you shamelessly lean into. As James wraps one of his arms around your waist and nervously fidgets with the hem of your shirt, you wrap your own arms around his shoulders, place your hands at the nape of his neck, and begin to twirl the ends of his curls (that need a trim, you notice) around your fingers—something you know he’s obsessed with.
You then glance around the room at your friends as they engage in each of their preferred activities on this peaceful and quiet evening. Your face transforms into a content smile, reminiscing on what your life might be like when you and your friends all leave Hogwarts. A day where all of your friends come over to the Potter resistance—you and James’ house, and spend the day around the fire, warm cups of tea within reach, silent communication being shared between you and James before the two of you sneak away and up the perfect wooden stairs to your bedroom, where laughter and secrets are shared under the sheets.
“Prongsy here hasn’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door.” Sirius smiles causally, leaning further back against Remus’ legs as the sandy-brown-haired boy nervously shifts in his chair and swiftly runs the hand that isn’t holding his book through his hair. Sirius’ comment is directed towards you, and you finally snap back into reality when you notice that knowing smirk plastered across Sirius’ face.
James lets out a dramatic groan while throwing his head back against the chair that the two of you continue to sit in. Your boyfriend’s reaction to Sirius’ constant teasing causes a quiet giggle to fall from your lips. The sound of your contagious laugh makes James’ stomach swoon with love and his face visibly lights up after lifting his head back up off of the chair. James can’t help but stare at you even when you’re sitting right in his arms. You look so sweet, radiating with love and warmth. At this moment, James can only imagine what those lips of yours might taste like. And that’s when he kisses you.
James can’t control himself and for valid reasons. You taste just the same as you always do—like honey, sweet as can be. It would be impossible for the bees not to be jealous of him. James could never get tired of kissing your lips and he’s not ashamed of it. If he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you then he’s always going to express his everlasting amount of love and affection for you.
The kiss catches you off guard, not expecting such passion and aggression in front of your friends, but you instinctively kiss James back. Your hands tangle through James’ hair while his grip on your hips and the waist tighten ever-so-slightly. This earns him a surprised squeak from you, and causes a boyish grin to form on James’ face as he kisses you.
“Get a room!” Sirius shouts jokingly from his spot on the floor which causes you and James to pull away with love sick grins consuming your expressions.
“You’re my girl.” James whispers into your ear and affectionately bumps his nose into the apple of your cheek, tickling your sensitive skin. A soft giggle bubbles into the air when James begins to pepper kisses all over your face.
“And I’ll always be your girl.”
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#my works ೀ⋆｡💌#masterlist#james potter imagines#james x reader#marauders james potter#james potter fluff#james potter x reader#james potter imagine#james potter fic#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james fleamont potter#james fleamont potter x reader#james potter#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter blurb#marauders fandom#marauders fluff#marauders era#marauders#marauders fanfiction
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˚ ✧ content: first-time parent toji, doctor reader, fluff, brief mentions of injury
“oh— hey! found one more for you down the hall.” a dreaded patient chart is thrust into your arms before you can tell the cheery nurse that your shift is already over.
“great,” you mutter, tiredly scanning the stack of paperwork as you make your way down the hall. it was way too late for this.
2-year-old male, already triaged and x-rayed. drove in by his dad about 2 hours ago. nothing too extensive, wouldn’t take more than an hour to get him sent home.
soft cries greet you at the door to the examination room, a hushed voice— his father— attempting to console the child.
“megs, c'mon. you’re gonna be okay! these are good people.” the older man whispers, sighing as the toddler’s sobs only grow louder.
your knock silences them both, the little boy trying to put on a strong face for you despite the little sniffles wracking his chest.
the kid is a carbon copy of his dad, donning the same shaggy black hair and big green eyes. the toddler looks up at you hesitantly, long lashes slick with tears.
“see? doctor’s here,” his dad coos, feigning fake excitement as you shut the door behind you. you can hear the quiver in his voice as he says it, anxiety eating away at his composure.
first-time parent you think, cute. always more terrified than the child. always.
“how’s our little trooper doing?” you smile, sympathetic to both their states. the younger boy says nothing, wiping the wetness from his face with his good arm. poor baby.
“fell off his trike in the driveway,” the father explains, shaking his head. he was charming, soft-spoken yet commanding respect. gnarled edges of a scar gracing the side of his mouth.
“can i see? just want to have a better look at the injury site,” you say calmly, snapping on a pair of blue gloves.
“show her where it hurts kiddo,” he asks tenderly, wincing as you take the ice pack off to expose the child’s swollen wrist.
megumi looks up at you curiously as you examine the injury, exhausted from a mix of pain and sleep deprivation.
“mama?” he mumbles, idly kicking his feet in his father’s lap.
“no bud not mama.” the older man laughs, clearly embarrassed. you feel your heart twinge just a bit at the adorable show of confusion.
“no broken skin, the joint is still aligned too.” you say confidently, placing the ice pack back. “likely not a break or a dislocation but i’ll look at the x-rays just so we’re positive, sound good?”
the father nods quietly, hugging his son to his chest.
“his mom was never in the picture, s’ hard handling him alone,” the older man doesn’t follow up on his comment, leaving it at that.
you nod. “i’m sorry.”
“toji,” he mumbles.
“i’m sorry, toji.”
it doesn’t take long for you to go over the blue images. an intact bone stands out against the illuminated wall, not a break thankfully. the stranger catches on soon enough, tension leaving his body at the good news.
“looks like it’s just a sprain,” you say, pointing to the image.
“see that kiddo?” he whispers, turning the little boy’s head toward you. “s’ nothing.”
“nofing?” megumi mumbles, clearly too tired to pay attention anymore. shy as a bunny.
“you’re gonna want to ice and elevate for at least the next two days, you should see a full recovery by then but if not i want you to come right back, okay?” you explain.
the father nods, propping his little boy down on the floor as you type out your post-visit instructions.
“say thank you to the pretty doctor megs,” he encourages, chuckling as the little boy waddles over to hug your leg with his good arm. so incredibly tiny.
pretty huh? you could get used to that.
“fank you.” his sweet voice latches onto your tired heart and melts you from the inside. megumi slumps down against your shoe as sleep takes over, caught under the arms and swept into his dad’s arms in an instant.
#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fluff#toji x reader fluff#toji x reader#fushiguro toji#jjk toji#toji headcanons#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin#toji imagine#toji fushiguro#zenin toji#dilf toji#jujutsu toji#toji#toji drabbles#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons
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✎ attraction
- gojo satoru x reader
to think it started with your crush on his best friend...
genre:
high school!gojo being a menace, jealous!gojo but he doesn’t realize it? enemies to lovers, fluff, gojo begins pining on you
note:
thank you anon who asks for gojo falling in love with a first year! i added some spice though haha
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
Back in 2006—
There was this tiny weeny part of Gojo that was like... questioning, how did his best friend Geto Suguru catch your eye, whereas he didn’t? Like, at all?
"I want Geto."
"Hah?" Gojo arched a righteous brow, swiftly turning your way—feeling the stings of irritation gnawing at him. "What?"
You shot him a look. “I said, you suck and I’m lamenting that I’m paired with you instead of Geto for this mission.”
Once upon a time, you did hate him for obvious reasons as other people do. He was obnoxious, boastful and overall grating on your nerves.
Well, actually, “hate” would be too strong of a word, so probably “dislike greatly” it is.
“Ehh, Suguru? With you?” Gojo glanced at you, purposefully scrunching his face into a mocking sneer. “No way. Absolutely not. Incompatible. I won’t give him my blessings.”
“Who are you to grant blessings?” you hissed with a bulging vein of frustration. “And no, it's not what you think! I—” you wanted to kick yourself for stumbling over your words, “—I just respect him in a way an underclassman would!”
Gojo let out a strained laugh.
To him, you were this cute little junior who looked funny when mad. Riling you up was on his daily to-do list, and poking fun at your obvious crush on his best friend was supposed to double the fun, until it made him wonder despite himself... just what exactly did Suguru have that he apparently lacked, leading you to always follow him with your eyes, whereas you spared him with nothing but glares and sharp retorts?
You didn’t exactly hide your feelings. Whenever Geto was nearby or greeted you in the mornings, you'd blush like a tomato. It was silly, because Gojo was sure his best friend’s type wasn’t a girl as skittish as you—surely, it must be someone as vivacious as Inoue Waka.
He knew you were doomed to fail.
"I suggest you go pick up some slack," he teased. "Better if you don't become a dead weight while assisting him in missions, no?"
He knows. Really.
"...do you know that there are only three things I can't stand here?"
"And those are?"
But...
"Your stupid glasses, your Limitless—and you."
He was still irked, regardless.
"Well, poor you, then," he shrugged, shit-eating grin on his face. This time he pushed his luck. "Do you know that you're nowhere nearing Suguru's type?"
Scratch that. You hate him. You turned to him with a reddened face, and it wasn't because you were blushing.
"I'm going by myself!" you declared, seething. "I couldn't care less about what you're about to do—I'm finishing this and going home!"
With that, you you marched towards the haunted house, paying no heed to his taunts behind you.
You felt a wave of embarrassment washing over. Gojo always messed with you and normally you would chalk it up as one of his shits—but this time, you didn't appreciate how he touched on that sore spot of your not-so-hidden infatuation with Geto. So what if you weren't his ideal type? He didn't have to be mean!
But soon you regretted leaving his side, as a monstrous cursed spirit quickly chased you out.
Gojo was still outside, bidding his time. He merely huffed when he heard you screaming in fear.
He was ready with a jab. "Well, well... Look who's running back into my arms—"
But his smirk quickly fell when he saw the cursed entity was apparently way beyond your level. You ran out—no, by some idiotic impulse of survival, you actually leapt out of the two-story window and almost fell flat on your face and broke your bones, but before then, he sprung to action, catching you, wrapping one arm on your waist.
You were grateful you that you weren't doomed—until you felt yourself dangling mid air in his hold... like a cat.
"Gojo!" you wailed. "I'm going to fa—!"
Oh, but Gojo was convinced that this was his moment to shine. He directed a smirk your way as the bright blue mass in his hand totally caught your attention. With one swift flick of his hand, he muttered the mantra for Blue, and exorcised the cursed spirit in one go.
He marveled at his own show of power—and hoping that somehow, you would too. Then, he placed his hand under your knees, repositioning you in a princess-carry, and the way your gentle curves nestled snugly in his arms sparked some intriguing thoughts in him.
Your wide, crystal-clear eyes gazed at him with such wonder. Red tinted your cheeks. The corners of his mouth curved into a winning smile.
It was at that exact moment when he realized it: he wants you. This funny girl who often made his day, he wanted you to look at his way too.
...but goddamnit, you like Suguru.
"Well, not that scary now with me around, isn’t it?" he boldly announced, and your amazed expression immediately turned into a cute frown.
"Thanks," you blurted, still with rosy cheeks and looked frazzled, but then you realized the state you were in his arms. "But—put me down!"
"Ehhh, I will if your feet can reach the ground!"
Who cares if you like Suguru? As he burst into snickers and you screamed at his face, Gojo Satoru decided then and there—in that spring of 2006—that he would make it his mission to win you over. To make you his.
And years later, not only he achieved that but also so much more—a ring on your finger serving as the testament to his success.
Epilogue
"Yaga-sensei," Geto sighed wearily. "Can I be paired with Shoko, please?"
"Geto-san, wait, please—" you frantically tried to explain, glaring at Gojo in the process. "I'll do my best so—"
"You're such a bother, even Suguru doesn't want to go on missions with you," the white-haired clown remarked with an evil grin. "Right, Suguru?"
"No, Satoru—"
"Well, but if it's me, I'll gladly mentor and teach you though~"
"I don't want you! You're so insufferably annoying!"
"Yaga-sensei, can I please get paired with someone else—"
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk imagines#jjk fanfic#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x reader fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen imagines#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo x you#gojo#gojo satoru imagines#jjk fluff#satoru gojo fluff#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo
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pick me up
roronoa zoro (opla) x reader
♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.
word count♡— 3.2k
genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader
content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread
also on♡— ao3
author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!
“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing.
“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”
Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed.
“Because they were overbored!”
Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes.
You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”
The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”
“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”
“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.
Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”
The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.
“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.
The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince.
“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”
“...”
“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.
Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”
“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”
Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.
“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?
But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.
“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group.
“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.
You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.
“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.
“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.
“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.
“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze.
“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”
Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.
Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.
You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”
“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.
“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure.
Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him.
Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”
You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”
“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.
“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”
Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.
Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards.
The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”
Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”
You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”
Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink.
Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.
You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.
“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.”
And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.
“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you.
As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.
“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.
“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”
You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.
“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”
You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”
Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”
That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”
She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”
“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”
“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”
You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”
“Of course, my gem.”
“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”
The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.
After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.
“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”
“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.
“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”
“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”
“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.
You almost wish you didn’t.
“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.
“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.
You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.
…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?
“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”
“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”
You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.
But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.
You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”
Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”
You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.
Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”
The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.
You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.”
“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.
“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.
“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”
Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.
“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit.
“I’d like that.”
Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.
He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.
In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”
Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.
Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”
“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.
“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.
“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”
Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”
Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.
“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”
“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”
“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.”
Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”
“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”
Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.
“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”
Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion.
“I have an idea.”
When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart.
But unfortunately for you, he had other plans.
You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”
“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?
You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now.
But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?
“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.”
You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?
“...Can I be part of your future?”
That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.
No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did.
“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.
“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”
“You said I always stick to your side.”
He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”
“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”
That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”
Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”
His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else...
“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.
Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders.
“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing.
“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.
After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.
“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter.
“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise.
You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.
“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.
Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)
“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.
“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.
“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”
“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.
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You're my favorite writer, and König is my favorite aussie man, so OF COURSE im making you write for him, hal, BEAR W ME !
Alright, what do you think about König with the “You’re here late.” prompt? The reader is part of KorTac and always worked alongside König, since they both entered about the same time, because of the readers personality, they are always fighting, one of these fights are specifically bad, leading the reader to go on a mission with another KorTac member, to help out somewhere else and take their mind off things, when the reader face a problem on the mission and ends up arriving late, König is furious.
Moths Hit the Window
PAIRING: König x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Fights with König were always loud, but this time his comments went a bit too far.
WORD COUNT: 5.9k
WARNINGS: Verbal fighting, angst, high tension, blood & stitches, wounds, canon typical violence, guns/weapons, death, suggestive near the end, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc.
A/N: Huge thanks to @idocarealot for the German translations!! Also, König's wearing the arachnid skin in this because I love it sm - enjoy, Anon!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You seethe. If eyes could turn red yous would be a beautiful shade of crimson—bloody knives ripping out of the cornea to strike whoever happened to get too close. It was as if the very air boiled with the force of a raging tsunami as you stomped down the local military base’s hallways, covered in blood and guts. Never had you reconsidered working for KorTac more than at this very moment.
Maybe I should just become a mercenary, you rip at the torn-apart gloves over your hands and jerk your arm out. Passerbyers quickly avert their eyes as you shove them into a garbage can and continue on with a growl. No shitty rules, no regulations—no fucking partners.
If people happened to slide past without noticing the steam coming out of your ears, they would have immediately locked eyes on the pure elephant of a man trailing fast behind. König’s eyes were goring into the back of your neck, gray and tan garb swaying as the packs and flash grenades on his combat vest bounced with every step. Accents of red do nothing in comparison to his visible flesh—the section of his eyes uncovered by his mask and head rig alight around his obsidian gaze.
König was muttering to himself far under his breath, curses and harsh comments all in German that he wouldn’t say to your face. At least not right now in view of others.
“I can hear you, you dimwit,” you hiss over your shoulder, grinding your teeth as you both make your way to the armory, “curse me out quieter!”
“You are making a scene!” The beast grunts, that heavily accented English striking your eardrums with its harsh dialect.
“Oh, jeez!” You raise your voice even higher, turning back forward and clenching your hands into fists as blood and guts drip off your gear—none of it yours. “I’m just so damn embarrassed, König! I’m making such a large and obnoxious display. Whatever will I do?!” Sarcasm like a valuable drug is injected into the waves of your voice. People from open doorways look out with shock, brows pulled up.
Everyone quickly darts back away when you snap your head in their direction and send them a scathing glare.
No one was surprised to find you and the Austrian going at it again but knew well enough to stay out of the crossfire. Lest someone get roped into it.
“Fuck off!” You spit the last curse into the burning air and shove past a soldier ahead of you.
König’s dark eyes flash dangerously, lips under his mask twisting into a sneer. The man’s shoulders seem to dig in even farther, spine curling over as if a brooding child.
This had all started the second you’d joined up with KorTac. Fresh out of the military and eager to get back into the game after a good vacation the PMC group had been at the top of your list. But if you’d known you’d be paired up with this damn mountain every chance there was just because he’d got into the game at nearly the same time as you, you’d have put in your luck with SpecGru.
“I do not see how this is appropriate behavior,” König follows as you place your palms on the black metal of the armory door, pressing with your shoulders. “I did what I was tasked to do—”
The masked man is cut off as you whirl on your heels, the door slamming shut as his body is shoved into it with strong arms. Dark eyes go wide in surprise, feeling the dig of your nails on his abdomen as your form presses into him and the chill of the door on his spine. You feel his skin bunch under his thick shirt and even if you want to stare him down that’s just not an option. Your warm figures shuffle together with panting breaths and dangerous glints in your eyes.
“Bull,” you drag out the word, growling it right up into his neck; sniper hood caressing your chin. König’s breath hitches with shakes of swirling emotions. “Shit.”
Shoving once more so he gets the point, you push off of him and stalk away like a feral wolf, already unclipping grenades and medical packs from your vest.
“You’re the damn reason the target got away!” Gear is thrown haphazardly to the long table in the center of the room. The Austrian watches with predatory eyes, hands clenched so hard that they quiver. He stays still, watching, as you send scathing glances. “The reason we’re going to be here for ten times longer than we’re supposed to be!”
“It is not my fault you failed to properly check the perimeter before you rushed in like a fool.” Volatile couldn’t be used to describe this…this was nothing short of volcanic. It was as if there were two sides of a scale filled with bullets and gunpowder—fire in the middle that was equally heating both piles as they raised and lowered erratically. König’s voice grates over the air, “I did what I could to fix your scheiße plan!”
“Don’t you shit on my plan!” You point, voice bouncing off the weapon racks as you rip the rifle strap from over your chest, chucking it away.
“I will shit on it—it was…it was…!” König’s voice cuts out and he can’t find the words. The Austrian descends into visceral German ramblings. “Es war so ziemlich der schlechteste Plan, den ich je gehört hab. Welcher halbwegs vernünftige Mensch geht in eine heiße Zone ohne vorher alle Zielobjekte richtig zu markieren?! Ich kann dich und deine Rücksichtslosigkeit nicht mehr leiden — du bringst mich um meinen Verstand! Hast du überhaupt ein Gehirn in deinem Schädel?”
You shake your head to yourself, heart pounding. “You’re still the one that was supposed to focus on the HVT. I rushed so he would flush out, but, no,” taking out the magazine of the rifle you hold it in your hands like an accusatory ruler that a teacher would hold. König shoves off the door and stands to his full height; arms tensed and straining before they coil around his chest in a soothing gesture.
He hated the fighting—the constant strain between the two of you. But when you were together it could never amount to anything else. The room felt like it was a million degrees.
Your eyes stab at him, “No! You had to go and focus on me! I hate to break this to you, König,” feet come forward and you once again find yourself close to him—breathing the same air and taking in the scent of gunpowder and blood. You point the tip of the magazine into his chest. His unseen lips pull; jaw clenching with held-back fire. “But I am not your damn mutt to keep on a leash. I had it under control.”
It’s as if you don’t realize the Austrian could snap you in half with a single kick of his leg, as if the sheer size of König had slipped your mind as a whole. His hands could snap your neck in an instant, but that was only if he got ahold of you.
But that was a line the both of you were never planning to cross. Words were one thing in this profession, actions another. If you ever got into a physical fight, you’d both kill each other, no doubt.
You’d like to think you’re a bit above that, but perhaps not.
König’s chest rises and falls deeply, taking in calming breaths as he tries to get his temper under control. “You didn’t,” he jeers out, “I saved your life, you Heißluftgebläse. And if you wanted to be treated less than a dog,” he grunts to you, head pulling down close to your face, harshly whispering out, “You could have simply asked me, yes?”
You both snarl at each other's throats like rabid animals, the world disappearing all around the obsidian eyes that match with yours; for a moment you get lost in the shining bits of silver in his iris that seem to burn with chilled iron. What little skin you can see is flushed and tight—hawk nose nearly poking out your eye as you’re leaned over like a giraffe near a bush.
Body vibrating, you sharply breathe, “I’m not even going to ask what that fucking means, you tool.”
“Good.” The words are bitten and fast, “because I am not telling you.”
“Great!”
“Perfekt!” You both were arguing like children. Hot faces and unwilling to let the other have the last word. If you got along it might have been funny.
“I’m going to dump all of your Einspänner out on the tarmac.” Your sure voice echoes with a definitive promise to the tone.
Pale lids widen in horror at the threat to the Austrian's favorite beverage, comfortably sitting in the Base’s fridge.
“You would not,” König’s tone is deathly serious and you smirk, eyes dancing. “You…” a guttural growl meets the air, mind translating words and giving meanings, “beast of a woman!”
“Oh, is that the best you can fucking do?!” You yell, splaying your hands out widely and moving away from him. “Now that’s really a show stopper, König, I’m shaking in my damn boots.”
“Ich komm mit dir nicht mehr klar.” König yells, moving back and placing both of his hands atop his head, knuckles white. “You’re rude—you do not even try to get along. You are loud and disrespectful; how do you live like this?!”
Your eyes slightly widen, watching the Austrian.
“Don’t try?” You echo, scoffing loudly. “What do you mean don’t try? I was the one to try and smooth things out between us in the beginning.”
“When?!” König spreads his hands out, knees slightly bent. “Because I have no recollection of such events.”
“Well of course you wouldn’t!” The heat was meeting a breaking point—words were getting more personal, sharper. Like a blade being honed for the kill slowly; being sharpened by rocks and whetstones of conviction.
König points a finger at you, voice going low and thin, “I’ve had enough of you, yes?” His sniper hood moves rapidly with his fast ricochets of breath. “Just about enough. Would you have wanted me to let you die?”
“I had it,” your lips spit, nose scrunched, and forehead tight. The man’s chest vibrates with a mute growl.
In all actuality, you’d never seen him this worked up before. König wasn’t above giving your quips back even if he obviously disliked it—most of that was due to the strange familiarity between the two of you. In large crowds, the man preferred to stay silent. This only added to his almost deadly aura with others, though you knew the muteness was because of social anxiety and not some built silence. He wasn’t shy per se, just afraid he’d say something wrong; mess up the conversation. You did most of the talking in meetings and you never minded it. Added him in when the topic was something he knew a lot about.
Your mind had addled it up to thinking it was cute, actually. How his feet would shuffle; his half-lidded gaze and his intense eye contact to let them know he was still listening. When he’d have to remind himself to look away with a pinch to his thigh because it was starting to seem threatening. It was endearing, even.
But around people König knew, well, he was going to speak his mind. No matter how long it takes his brain to catch up with his lips.
The only thing the two of you were good at was being moths—hitting the metaphorical window over and over on the same topics and tension points. Slamming heads and flapping wings. You were at the end of your rope just as he was.
“I should have never taken you as a partner!” He calls, feet splayed. “Should have gotten out of this the second you were assigned with me. Gott, ich hab wirklich versucht, dich zu verstehen — Ich hätte gleich aufgeben sollen.” Your lips thin, lungs stalling as all the air vacates the room. You stand still and listen to what he really thinks, fingers shaking.
König’s large form towers over all, great sparks of electricity flying out. His gear shakes as he moves, thigh straps pushing fabric to shift and conform to his body. Your blood pumps with brewing hesitance.
Maybe this had gone too far. I’ve never seen him like this.
“I can’t stand you any longer! Pathetic squabbles that mean nothing, absolutely ludicrous plans that make little headway.” Your head bursts with aggression and what little warning signs you have are squashed. “I can’t keep saving you because you can’t do your job correctly!”
“You don’t have to save me at all!” You scream. “You can’t keep your damn eyes off of me for five seconds, König.” Feet move away quickly from the armory door as if someone had come to put away their stuff but thought better of it. The next words burst from you before you can think of the contents. “It’s like you fucking love me or something!”
König doesn’t miss a beat, but for months afterward, he wishes he had.
“Oh, do not make me laugh—” he scoffs ferally, adrenaline making him talk, “as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place.”
Twin eyes widen and both parties immediately fall silent. A sharp inhale.
Too far.
Under the hood, König’s face goes an embarrassing shade of red all the way down to his chest. Fingers freeze. Jaw slackens.
You feel like your heart was just grasped in his grip and ripped out of your ribs with one violent motion—one sentence out of all the others enough to knock down the rebuttal that had formed on the tip of your tongue. Your throat closes up as you blink in shock.
“I-I…” König stutters, mind blanking as he struggles for words. But anger was easier than pain.
Numb fingers rip off the last of your weapons and belongings as you let them hit the floor with defining thuds as warm shame floods your cheeks. Shaky puffs of breath like a panting dog. Dark eyes watch with regretful panic, heart jumping and eyes flinching. The adrenaline it…it made him forget himself on occasion—how to properly act when not on the battlefield. It was like that with everyone but…but he hadn’t meant that.
Shame that it’s already too late.
Your fisted hand slams into his chest, brutal and unforgiving. König lets off a grunt but does nothing as you slither past, hissing into his ear, “Find yourself a new punching bag.”
His hand snaps to his breast where you had slammed your KorTac patch right into his heart, catching it. It’s many moments before he can think enough through the alarm; form words.
“I…I didn’t…oh, du blöde Kuh!”
By the time the man composed himself, panicked tears burning in his eyes, the door had already slammed shut. His feet squeaked over the tile to an empty audience.
—
Private Military Companies don’t have ranks. There are no Sergeants, Lieutenants, Generals or Colonels. Just people. Beyond the orders you’d been hired on, there was nothing keeping you in line with König on this mission. And those orders were loose at best.
Adhere to policy and listen to the Base’s COs. Shut up and get the job done.
The Austrian and you weren’t due out for another week because of rotations. Since you’d failed to capture or kill the HVT that you were assigned, another group had picked up the tracks in the meantime. Like an oiled machine, the gears of this operation kept whirling.
Evolve, or die.
“Lieutenant!” You call to the geared-up man on the tarmac—the one heading that very same group. It had been only a few hours since the incident in the armory. You needed a distraction; blood was still running high and brain pounding for release. There were only so many times you could bruise your fists and legs on a punching bag before people started giving you nervous looks. “Need an extra hand?”
Your voice sounds strained, even to you. The man looks you over once and narrows his eyes. Nods not moments later.
“Get tired of your big friend? Okay, how fast can you be ready for me?” You feel your shoulders loosen, a relieved sigh exiting your lips.
“Three minutes.”
“...get to it then. We move in five.”
So that was how you found yourself backed into a corner five hours into the op from hell—bloody knife held tightly in your grip and mouth open in ragged pants.
“Fuck,” your vest is torn and riddled with bullets; your entire chest must be bruised by now because it surely aches like it is. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
You really are reckless, just like König had said you were. Maybe you’d just never realized it because he always seemed to watch your six. This…this was really bad. The comms were awash with screaming orders and panic, ringing out across the abandoned mining factory that exploded with light from gunfire and the sounds that accompanied it. You knew for a fact three soldiers were down; two KIA.
The Lieutenant is one of them.
Your hand snaps to the radio strapped to your chest, one eye squinted in pain at the ragged slice across your left brow line. At your feet, two heavily armed men lay dead.
“Pull back! They knew we were coming!” But your word didn’t carry weight here. Your face twists between pain and rage. König’s comment still rings in your ears as the onset of tinnitus does, as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place. It wasn’t ideal to be thinking about this now—it was detrimental that you didn’t.
But König and the things he did often stained your brain. No matter how much you tried to distance yourself from that fact.
Snapping the knife in your grasp down in an arch to dispel the blood from the blade, you take a steel-laced inhale and shove off the wall. Limping, but moving. Sprained ankle. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.
The concrete under you is splattered with crimson viscera and you stumble over spasming bodies riddled with bullets. With a subdued shink you slip your knife into its thigh sheath, grabbing the FTac Recon strapped around your chest after slamming a fresh mag into it. With a numb calm overcoming you, you slip your forefinger into the trigger guard, poised over the easy press of the trigger itself.
The long shadows spread over you; your head illuminated by the dull sheen of the moon as you pass under a stretch of open sky to slink into the building across the empty street. Feral yells still bounce off the air and you go to them readily, purpose settling in your veins.
Pain flies to the back of your mind, displaced by adrenaline and the rabid puffs of breath that fall like grinding thunder from your lips.
You wonder what König’s thinking right now—he’d without a doubt noticed that you were gone. He’d even probably gone to your barracks room to try and apologize and found it empty. That was just how he was.
Would he be happy? You wondered. Relieved to see you out of his life? You’d both done nothing but fight, but there were moments of peace. Understanding.
Shared meals and comfortable, yet sarcastic, comments; soft glances when the other wasn’t looking. Heat in your face and obviously shown on his when shy hands brushed.
Your hold tightens on your gun, brows dripping with sweat as it dribbles down along with the blood. Gunfire flashes.
Closer now.
Shadows scream on top of a raised walkway attached to an in-mountain compound, targets with trigger fingers firing on your fellows who take cover behind crumbling walls. Pinned down. You watch, unseen, from a broken window as dust and moths collide.
Your eyes lock on the closest hostile and you raise your weapon slowly, barrel resting on the frame between shattered glass. You clock the distance and adjust accordingly; breaths falling steady.
The small insect that keeps hitting the window plays in your mind over and over—drowning out the yells; the fire.
Just a moth readily willing to smash into that barrier until it dies. You hum under your breath and rest the gun into the crook of your shoulder, cheek to stock.
Your finger slams into the trigger.
—
You stumble out of the loud infirmary with a bloody rag pressed deeply into your forehead, medical pouch under one arm. You hear rushing feet and barked orders from nurses and doctors just before the door closes, cutting off as you stake out on your own.
Limping, you reason there were others with more severe wounds than your own; as blood drips from your flooded rag, your feet take you deep into the base one broken step at a time. You’d figure it out yourself.
Plus, the silence would give you time to think. Think about König.
You just gritted your teeth and decided that was better than taking up space in the infirmary.
In times like these, the Austrian would fix your wounds for you, just as you did his. While you had your disagreements and heated fights, he’d never made it as personal as he had hours beforehand. Never made it hurt.
“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your other crusty hand over the mud along your chin. Everything ached and you don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing.
Flinching along like a downed bird, you shove through into the last door into the barracks; thoughts now stuck on finding a chair to sit down on before your legs gave out. The darkness of the common area was deep—staining your eyelids as you grunt, bumping into the back of the couch.
It’s almost funny the way the lamp flicked on mere moments later.
You hiss, eyes snapping shut as the rays attack your sight, rendering you blind for a moment. The shaking hand on your dripping rag tightens before the spark of pain makes you lighten the pressure.
There’s a dark grunt just as you open your eyes back up.
“You are late.” König.
He sits in one of the chairs—sniper hood still over his head yet only clothed in a large compression shirt and casual camo pants. Like a disappointed parent, the Austrian’s arms were crossed over his chest; feet resting out and crossed at the ankles. With such a big stature the look could strike fear into anyone.
Anyone but you, that is.
König’s dark eyes rove over you, stopping immediately on the fabric you keep to your forehead. The previous, furious, tone stops and the flash of very real concern takes precedence. His hands tighten on his biceps, thighs tensing over the cushion; spine just a little bit straighter.
You watch and say nothing—dead-faced.
Your heart suddenly skips beats, stuck into the framework of the man’s eyes. König’s brows peel back and a timid stutter stays in your breast.
“...Vögelchen?” Lids blink rapidly, and before you can register anything because of your blood loss and fatigue, you’re being dragged to the couch and forced to sit down.
Strong hands encompass your shoulders and small breaths flutter in front of your face as König peels back to kneel in front of you; spying the medical pouch in your under-arm.
“What is this?” He mutters to you, vision flinching along your body but always dragging back to the bloody rag on your face. “What did you do to yourself?”
Scarred hands raise before pausing, obsidian eyes staring deeply into yours as if in frantic question. Your own gaze keeps him close, spying on his veiled fear at the sight of your blood and your disappearance. He’d heard about the mission, then, that much was upfront because of his earlier comment.
The humvee had been late arriving back. Half an hour.
“Fuck off,” you utter, shoving off the couch before you’re captured in an unyielding press again, shoved down. Your anger spikes along with your unease, “König! I don’t have the patience—”
“I’m sorry.” The fight leaves you.
Fingers squeeze your biceps, hold lightly shaking with nerves. “I did not mean it.” Obsidian pierces you, “Please, Vögelchen, I am sorry. Utterly. I speak so fast I misplace words—get far more,” words fail as you stare so intently at him, a strange feeling swirling in your gut. König’s face was going crimson again, though not from anger. His tone was deep and honest, accent becoming more whole with emotion. The hands on your skin stay. “Rude than I intend. It is not an excuse, but…”
In the horizontal oval of his hood, you spy the dots of tiny freckles; the whispers of auburn hair. That hawk nose still points violently from behind the fabric. König never finishes his sentence, just takes a large breath and looks to the side after a moment of silence.
Then he steals the medical pack from your grip and opens the zipper with firm fingers, taking out gloves and gauze. Needle and sutures. It’s all placed on the side table as the bear of an Austrian stays on his knees for you—bending and shifting as the bottom of his shirt rides up.
It’s a tense affair of touching skin; warmth and hissed curses. Gentle shushing. But you say nothing through it. Until he’s up in your face trying off stitches with forceps and a needle holder, breath making his hood lightly caress your bloodless face. His fingers are large and firm, never second-guessing or stuttering over the course of directing tools that dig a needling and thread into your flesh.
He’s warm and every motion elicits shivers. You see his form from the side of your eye; his face’s outline as the lamp light illuminates the hood’s fabric. Shadowy silhouette of König’s strong jaw that shifts with every other breath from his wide chest.
“You’re an asshole for saying that to me, y’know.” you slip your gaze away just as he snaps over. “Adrenaline or not.”
The needle pauses and a swift nod is given.
“I…I know it was. No amount of apologizing can explain how very horrible I feel. It was like I was so…so…” An annoyed grunt was leveled at himself.
“Pissed off?” You offer quietly.
“Yes! Pissed off.” Amused glances were shared, the air slowly smoothing out between the two of you. Dark eyes quickly look away from yours and König clears his throat terse-like. But softer, steadier, “I…could not bear it if I were to see you in harm and be unable to assist you. That…is why I was watching. Why I do watch you.”
Inside of you, it was like there was a pot of water on the stove, steadily boiling under the heat. Your eyes are delicately wide when the man’s hands leave your face; kneeling body still tall enough to stare into you.
“You are…” König pauses, but not to find the words. To ready himself. He takes a long breath. “You are special to me, my Vögelchen. I can not see you hurt,” a gesture to your forehead and creased eyes. As if your pain was his own. “Not like this.”
“What are you saying, König?” You whisper, face twisted with hurt and confusion. Apprehension. “You’re giving me mixed signals. We always fight with each other. I’m not saying I’m blameless, but…c’mon, now. Look at us.”
“Not…always.” He grumbled like a child, tools placed away and hands dripping blood before he slips the gloves off. They meet the side table with a tiny toss. The Austrian leans back onto his ankles, butt to heel. He begins to look at your forehead and you can practically hear his heart break. “I do not like arguing with you, you know that, yes?”
“Me neither,” you whisper, fingers fiddling as a sheen of anxiousness sets in. “You just,” you pause, “confuse me.”
König blinks in surprise, head tilting and large eyes shimmering. Your mind flashes to a curious cat and you try to explain with a burning face and fast lips.
“You say we’re partners but you never act like it,” he stares and listens. When had you both had a conversation like this before? “You make it seem like you can’t trust me to do the simplest task. I’m not,” your voice betrays you, cracking, “I’m not that useless, am I?”
He freezes, muscles going taunt.
“U-Useless? Nutzlos? No, no,” A hand comes to capture your chin and you let him move you where he wishes. Creased eyes lock on yours. “That is not right. You’re not useless to me—how could you be?” Pained brows move in, “did I make you think like this? Like I did not appreciate your skills?”
Your eyes burn, and the aches from your wounds mix with the pure fatigue in your flesh to leave your emotions running between sanity and sadness. A moment later you’re turning your head away.
König recaptures it, hands finding both sides of your cheeks. He looks shaky; desperate.
“No, please, Vögelchen, please. I need you to look at me.”
“König, I don’t—” You close your mouth before you let out the beginnings of a sob. “I can’t keep fighting with you.”
“I know, oh, I know,” his hands are so grounding it’s like you’re the inner pages of a book, and his grip the thick leather cover—leather laced with shared scars and the same that had stitched you up countless times. This push and pull had to end. “I cannot fight with you either—it tears me apart. Oh, du weißt gar nicht, wie sehr es mich schmerzt, dein wunderschönes Gesicht anzuschreien. Mit dir zu streiten bedeutet, meinen Verstand und mein Herz gleichzeitig zu brechen.” König’s thumbs run up and down your skin, still bloody with dried flakes falling to the ground. He seems not to care a bit.
“What can I do to fix this? Anything. Anything to get us to stop doing this to each other.” You stare into his eyes, both creased and glazed over.
There’s a brief moment where you wonder if anyone truly even knew you as well as König did—there was no one else that you shared such a deep connection with. Years upon years of being stuck at his side.
And someone else’s hands had never felt as good as his. They were hard and callused over but cupped your face as gently as one would cup water from a rippling stream. His eyes were stars; visible skin like porcelain, his breath raised a large and wide chest with a fast-paced heart. You could sense his throat trapping air.
König kneeled to you and bared himself.
Anything, he had said, to fix what he had said. To stop this.
There was one way you could think to stop this—it might not have been smart, certainly not, but…hmm…You gradually raised your hand raised from your lap and slipped it under the front of König’s hood.
Slowly, with all the delicateness of a glass dragonfly, your fingers strayed to the side of his neck to press into tight flesh. A rapid pulse.
The man goes to stone. It’s like you’ve stolen his nervous system. Dark eyes stay locked onto yours as you gaze back, hand dragging nails up with a light pressure near to the speed of a slug.
König whispers your name into the empty space and the oxygen seems to dry up. Warm light from the lamp cast phantoms on walls and over skin in a small moment of foreign discoveries. The Austrian swallows saliva and you feel his neck flex. You don’t answer him, just watch and feel his own hands tighten on your cheeks in warning.
But you never listen, do you? Reckless you were called. And König had been right.
You were reckless.
Your hand had now explored like a map the indents of hidden facial scars; long and short over jaw and lips. The hand that was doing this had hiked the sniper’s hood up around your wrist so that the man’s lashes were twitching as the fabric got too close to his eyes. And you watched. And so did he.
A twin pair of moths hitting a glass window, staring from opposite sides at one another until they realized the break in the frame.
“Anything?” You ask in a loose tone, barely heard above the flood in both of your ears.
König was breathing heavily but didn’t pull away. Pupils wide and body heavy to your touch. His spine briefly straightened, until he realized he had moved back slightly and immediately hunched again if only to keep your hands on him.
“I…” he grunts, “A…anything.” Fingers touch his nose, they spread under the hood to trace the bumps and marks he keeps hidden like buried treasure. Your vision takes in the otherworldly hue on his visible skin; the glaze of rapture in his eyes yet still that ingrained heat.
Your body shivers at the gravel in his accented English.
Fingers stall over his lips, hood showing you the pale being of König’s strong chin and jaw. You shift your touch to the side and find chapped lips revealed to you, a small palate scar that had healed to nothing more than a line up to his nostril.
You spare it nothing more than a glance before you look back into obsidian. Dark ether and dead galaxies devoid of stars. Swallowed in a sea of pasts and futures. You look for hesitation; for disgust.
You find none.
“You said that no one could ever love someone like me,” your head leans in, and your breath mingles together with an intimacy that had never been shared between this type of partners. König, as if broken from a spell, takes down a swift inhale of air into his stiff lungs. He stares with far back lids. Flashes of unidentified emotions. “Why did you say that?”
A moment of silence and of rabid hearts. The man’s lips twitch over yours as he answers slowly, not breaking eye contact for a moment. As if he did he’d be turned to rock. As if he’d miss something amazing from happening.
He speaks with a whispered confession.
“Because if they did—I would have to kill them. Because no other than I would be able to love you more.” Your world slows and your ears strain with the breathy words.
Face burning your lips part with shock and awe. Violent to any other, but to you this was a confession from a man that could meet you blow for blow—calm you and infuriate you all in one. Challenge you, but knew when he’d gone too far and how to properly apologize.
He’d waited in that chair for you all night, you’d realized.
For you to come back to him. His partner.
You press your lips to his and hear his pitiful sounds of gasped reassurance. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you let saliva drip off of your chins to splatter onto bent knees and shaking thighs.
König’s arms cage you; capture your waist and draw you closer, lips breaking apart before you both share a wide-eyed look of momentary pause. There was no room to breathe; to think. Chests hit together and fingers tighten to a tendon-visible hold.
The man's growing smile is wide from where you still hold his hood up by his nose, and with a lick of his red and wet lips, he reconnects your awaiting mouths.
This time, you’re the one to gasp.
“Lass mich zeigen, wie leid es mir tut, Vögelchen.”
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☆ GHOSTING — GETO SUGURU X READER
summary: after being made aware of your long term ex boyfriends plans to 'fix' the world, you knew that you had to try and stop him. but seeing him for the first time in a decade; all the love, the hate, the heartbreak comes right back to you both and you realise you care about him a lot more than you thought.
wc: 4.7k (of pure goodness....)
cw: afab!reader, mdni, angst to fluff (kinda) cult leader ex boyfriend!geto, kinda sorta canon (its the day that geto yk...) he eats you out like its his last meal, half hate fucking, full making love, and a whole lot of geto being culty and cunty. this one has a plot people!!
authors note: guys yk I love a good exes to lovers fic so the argument in this one hits different and the whole idea of you and suguru breaking up just before he runs off to run his cult really gets to me, so I hope you enjoy this one.
geto suguru hasn’t seen you in years, in almost a decade, and is still reeling harshly from how you left him when he needed you. but somehow he finds himself rushing to meet you when he gets the four word text from your number—which is still saved in his phone under ‘my girl’— saying, ‘we need to talk.’
he knows exactly what you want to speak about, he could easily put together why today of all days you’d want to see —after vanishing him for just over a decade. he figured gojo probably gave word to you, as from when you’ve been young and growing up together, you’ve all known that if gojo couldn’t get through to him, you could.
he opens the door to your apartment, knowing that you wouldn’t have locked it—you always had a habit of leaving it open for him. and there you are, standing in the dimly lit room, waiting for his arrival. the years have etched subtle changes onto your face and in your demeanour, but the essence of who you are remains unchanged. time may have separated you, but in this moment, it feels as though it has never passed.
“you can't do this,” is the first thing you say, your voice steady despite the unexpected surge of emotions upon seeing him again. you didn't think seeing him after all this time would affect you, but it did. his hair is longer, his frame more imposing, but that unmistakable smirk remains, a haunting reminder of the man you once knew.
“wow right to the chase,” he chuckles bitterly, his presence taking up the room as he enters the room further, “i forgot you never really had a thing for beating around the bush.”
you meet his bitter chuckle with a steady gaze, your resolve unwavering. the years of separation have done nothing to diminish the intensity of your connection, the push and pull between you two.
"it's not the time for games, suguru," you reply, your tone serious. "you know why i called you here."
he sighs, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. the weight of his plans, the burden he carries, is evident in the lines etched on his face. "i figured you'd call sooner or later."
the room seems to shrink as the gravity of the situation hangs between you. the man you once knew, the one who could make your heart race with a smile, now stands before you, shrouded in darkness.
"i won't let you go through with this," you say firmly, your eyes never leaving his. "there's another way, suguru. there has to be."
for a moment, his façade cracks, and you catch a glimpse of the person he used to be, the one who believed in a better world. but then the hardness returns to his eyes, and he steps closer, his presence overwhelming.
"you always were too idealistic," he mutters, almost to himself. "but i can't turn back now. the world needs this change."
"what happened to you?" you snap out, your words laced with a bitter edge that hangs heavily in the air. it's a question that carries the weight of your years of frustration, anger, and confusion. but you knew what happened to him; everyone knew.
his reaction is immediate, and the room seems to tremble with his anger. his gaze narrows, and the atmosphere becomes charged with tension. "you don't get to ask that," he spits out, his voice dripping with bitterness. "you left, remember? you abandoned me when i needed you the most."
“it wasn’t like that,” you argue, leaning forward, your body tense. “by the time i left you were already gone, being physically present in a relationship doesn’t mean anything if your mind is fucking checked out all the time. at that point i was just dating a shell of you.”
“is that how you justify it?" he retorts, his anger unabated. "you think leaving was the solution?”
you clench your fists, your own anger rising to meet his. "i did what i had to do to protect myself, suguru. you were spiralling, consumed by your own darkness. I couldn't save you"
his eyes blaze with a mixture of fury and hurt. "you think i needed saving?
“you still need saving,” you scoff gesturing to him standing right in front of you, “just because you couldn’t save—”
“don’t even go there,” he interrupts, his hand raising to stop you. he knew you were talking about riko, “i’ve made peace with that.”
“oh have you?” you accuse, “since it seems to me, you’ve been on a killing spree, ever since.”
“other people died y’know,” he hisses out, “remember haibara? he was your fucking friend, but you weren’t even there.”
“this isn’t about me,” you say disregarding his comment, regret seeping through you, “you think i haven’t kept tabs on you since i’ve been away. who have you become?”
he glares at you, his anger evident. "i've become what the world needs," he snaps, his voice heavy. "someone willing to do what it takes to change things."
"and is killing a village full of people the way to do that?" you challenge, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. "killing your..." You pause, overwhelmed by the thoughts and images of what he's done. "was killing your parents worth it?"
his expression hardens, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of regret in his eyes, but it's quickly masked by his resolve. "i had to make sacrifices," he says coldly. "it's a small price to pay for a greater cause."
“you can’t truly think that,” you say, taking a step closer to him, your fists still clenched at your sides. “how did it feel killing them then? to take away the lives of your own parents who were innocent?” you probe, you knew that there was some part of him that must feel bad.”
“you’re about… ten years too late to be trying to have this conversation with me,” he shrugs, the turmoil that geto felt when he first set out on his mission has ceased. the guilt he felt for killing his parents, even the grief he had for something that he caused, wasn’t a factor for him anymore.
your frustration boils over as you press him further. "so, you've become heartless, then?" you challenge. the room seems to tighten around you as you await his response. "a cold-blooded killer who's convinced himself that the ends justify the means?"
geto's gaze narrows, his patience dwindling. "it's not about being heartless. it's about doing what's necessary to achieve our goals."
"your goals," you emphasise, "not mine. and not the goals of the innocent people you've hurt along the way."
he sighs, exasperation creeping into his voice. "you always had a way of making everything so complicated, questioning every choice. you left because you couldn't handle the real world."
you shake your head, unwilling to accept his justifications. "no, i left because i couldn't stand by and watch you become a monster."
“so i’m just a monster, yeah?” he retorts, stepping towards you, his anger evident across his face, you could see your words triggered him, and as he gets closer you could feel your facade faltering.
your heart races as he approaches, and you raise a hand instinctively, palm out, to signal him to stop. "don't come any closer," you warn, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. there was no rational reason to be scared of him, you’ve known him for years, and despite everything that he’s done —what he’s become— there was still a part of you that believed that he wouldn’t hurt you.
but geto ignores your plea, his determination unwavering. he grabs your hand firmly, his grip surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of the moment. his dark eyes bore into yours, and he speaks in a low, taunting tone, "why? are you scared that with me being this close, you're going to realise that you loved a monster? that you're still in love with him?"
you grit your teeth, refusing to let him get under your skin. "suguru, you don't get to manipulate me with your twisted version of love," you retort, your voice laced with defiance. "i won't let you use my feelings against me.
his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you're torn between the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. the memories of the love you once shared, the pain of his transformation into something unrecognisable, and the lingering attraction between you all crash together in this charged moment.
you try to pull your hand away, to regain control of the situation, but geto's grip tightens, preventing your escape. his face inches closer to yours, and despite your better judgement, your breath hitches. “manipulation, huh?” geto muses, his mouth so close to yours that you feel his breath faintly brush across your lips. you look up at him through your lowered eyelashes, and in that fleeting pause, so small that it’s almost imperceptible, you find yourself considering the gravity of your actions, if only for a moment.
the feeling of doubt is short lived, as you press your lips against geto’s, his mouth immediately moulding into yours. the kiss is searing, as you push your bodies against each other, he releases your hand from his grip, his hands move to cradle your head, holding it in place as he deepens the kiss, bruising your lips with his.
everything about geto is familiar, the taste of him, the warmth of his mouth, the way he consumes you. his tongue explores yours, wrestling for control as your arms scratch at him trying to tug off his robe. you wanted him to feel you, all of you—your touch, your lips, your hurt, your anger, the love that you still have that you thought was small. but after seeing him, kissing him, you realise is still an overwhelmingly large part of you.
you pull apart to catch your breath, staring hard at each other, but there’s barely a moment wasted before your back on eachother. kissing each other feverishly, as you rip off each other's clothes, he pushes you hard, your back slamming against the nearest piece of furniture as his mouth latches onto your neck. his kisses cascade down your body, stopping at your breasts as he unhooks your bra, tossing it aside.
“i missed these,” he murmurs, as his lips descend onto your tits, his face nuzzling at your chest as he sucks and pulls at your nipples with his teeth. “and i missed this,” he continues to mumble, his hands cupping your clothed pussy, his finger lightly caressing your slit.
you arch forward into his touch, wanting to feel him more and chuckles saying, “even after all these years, you still respond to my touch just the same.” his fingers plunge into your panties, brushing against your clit and he smirks as your lips part a stifled moan escaping your lips—proving his point.
“s-shut up,” you hiss out, as you slowly start to gyrate against his fingers. although it was obvious from the way you were already soaking your underwear, you didn’t want to admit how good he is actually making you feel—you just couldn’t give him the satisfaction. geto raises his eyebrows at you in amusement, as he watches you bite your lip trying to contain your moans, as his fingers inch into your inviting pussy.
geto’s body moves down yours as he removes his lips from your tits, continues to press kisses down your stomach, as he drops down to his knees —his eyes level with your cunt. he presses a kiss to your covered pussy, before sliding off your panties. his mouth is just about to latch onto you but he pauses looking up at you, his gaze unwavering, “you want this right?” you nod slowly, your anticipation brewing as your eyes lock onto his, “use your words.”
you release an exasperated huff, but he remains steadfast, his raised eyebrow a silent declaration that he won't act until you tell him what he wants to hear. the room seems to pulse with tension, the growing desire between you mounting with each heartbeat.
your hands slide it’s way into his hair, pushing your fingers through his scalp, as you grin, you voice is low and sultry as you say, “i want it.” his mouth envelopes your pussy and you push his head into you deeper, forcing your nose into your arousal. he inhales you, taking in your scent as he presses his face in your cunt.
“such a pretty pussy,” he mutters lowly, you could feel the vibrations spread through your pussy. his tongue strokes down your slit, before pushing into you, he twists and slurps at you trying to suck out all of your juices.
geto nibbles at your clit, tugging at it with his teeth before bringing his fingers back to cunt. shoving two fingers in roughly. you pull his hair harshly, the feeling of his mouth sucking on your clit leaving your mind blank. “ah f-fuck,” you cry out, as geto’s strokes grow more intense.
“c’mon let me hear you more,” geto prompts, pulling away slightly from your pussy, his lips plump and coated from your wetness. he grabs one of your legs and hikes it over his shoulder, the angle allowing him to force his fingers into you further, curling them up in your pussy as he goes back to shoving his face in your sobbing cunt.
you grind your pussy in his face, working with him in getting you off. both of your movements were frantic, geto is eating your pussy with such eagerness, hungrily trying to drink all of your cum. “i’m close s-sugu i’m—” you choke out, feeling yourself slipping down the wall you pressed against, but geto holds you upright, his large hand keeping your thigh hooked over his shoulder and roughly pushing you up against the wall.
geto grins against your cunt, your moans and cries is a sound he didn’t realise how much he missed until he heard them now. you laboured breathing, stammered sentences told him that you were reading cum, but he just had to push you further. so he adds one more finger, sending it straight to your spot, twisting and pushing it in your pussy so hard that tears brim your eyes. he was so relentless, you always loved that about him, how he knows your body in and out, he knew exactly where to touch, and just how far he should push to have you becoming a mess for him.
you couldn’t take him anymore, so you cum, hard. your pussy releasing ropes and ropes of cum, all over geto’s fingers and his face, and he laps at it, munching all your cum with excitement. “i know you can give me more than that,” he muses, pressing his thumb down on your clit, rubbing at it aggressively as you cum. your eyes roll back, as he repeatedly flicks at your cum, and before you know it, you're squirting all over his face.
geto’s eyes widen, and he doesn’t stop playing with your pussy, until you bow your head in submission, worn out from all the cum you’ve released over him. your hands slide out of his hair, as you try and catch your breath and geto peppers your cunt and your thighs with kisses finally letting your thigh come off his shoulders. “damn your pussy’s still as sweet as ever.”
“stop with the talking,” you mumble, as you pull him up to his feet, your lips forcing their way back onto him. your hands frantically explore each other's bodies as you drag him to your bedroom, pushing him on your bed. “i can’t fucking stand you,” you mutter to yourself, your denial evident, as you straddle him, pulling his dick out of his boxers.
you pause briefly at the sight, his thick, long dick staring at you. you hear geto chuckle at your reaction, your eyes meet his with a challenging look exchanged between you, he raises his eyebrow at you, a silent dare on whether you’ll actually be able to get the control that you’re aiming to have.
you hover over his dick, your pussy still dripping, geto bites his lip in anticipation as you tease him, slowly edging yourself down onto him. your pussy greedily, takes in his dick as you force yourself down on him as immediately fills you, stretching out your cunt with one push. you start to ride him, hard and fast, rocking your body forward as you bounce up and down on him, your hand pressing down on his stomach to keep you steady.
geto sits up, stifling a moan as he feels your cunt clench around his dick with everyone of your movements. he tries to thrust up into you, but he just can’t match the relentless rhythm you had, “f-fuck,” he exhales, a moan escaping his mouth, and you smirk —you have him just where you wanted him.
“you alright there suguru?” you mock, the grin spread across your face unmissable as you grind yourself down against him, tightening your pussy around his pole as you slid up and down. the bite on his lip hardens as he pulls it further between his teeth to suppress another moan.
but geto doesn’t submit for long, his hand slaps you across your tits and his fingers pinch your nipples, twisting and tugging them, causing you to arch your back as you wail. “d’you r-really think you run shit here?” he groans, flicking at your nipples with every word, “you’ll never be in control, not with me,” he taunts.
“oh really?” you retort, as you still continue to move your ass, meeting his hips. you can feel him start to pick up his pace, trying to match yours, his hips slightly thrusting upwards, his dick pushing into you deeper.
“yeah,” he says confidently through gritted teeth, one of his hands pulling away from your nipples and onto your ass, harshly grabbing one of your cheeks to steady himself as he drills into you further, “because you’re still my girl.”
you still at his words, you knew he didn’t mean it but you couldn’t help but react to the name that he always used to refer to you as. geto could see your eyes become vacant, as you think back to the memories when you were truly his girl. you used to revel in that —the feeling of being his. he takes advantage of your pause, your rhythm halted as he takes over, now setting the pace as he charges his dick into you, stuffing you further.
“suguru f-fuck you’re so—” you sob out, as he breaks down your wall, his strokes hitting your spot perfectly. your body buckles, crumbling at the force that geto was using as he repeatedly thrusts into you, his hand pushing you in further so his dick can get an even better angle in you.
“i’m so what?” he retorts, knowing you wouldn’t be able to string an answer together from the way he is fucking you dumb. geto couldn’t deny that he is getting some joy out seeing you all drunk on his dick, reduced to nothing but moans and incoherent sentences, he liked being the one to break you down. “am i still a monster, someone you can’t stand being around?”
you sloppily nod your head, trying to keep some resolve, but your efforts are pointless since all the insults and accusations you were spouting earlier are now futile, you lost your care in getting him to do the right thing, all you want now is for him to stay like this — inside of you.
“s-shit i can’t take it a-anymore im gonna cu—” you force out, clenching yourself around little his dick hard as you feel your orgasm building up. but geto’s movements stop for a second as he pulls his dick out of you, flipping you over, your back landing hard on your bed. he leans over you, his focus fixed on you, but at this point, his eyes don’t hold the same heartache, and hurt that they did when he first stepped into your house. the geto that is looking at you now, is the one who’d always look at you everyday, ten years ago —with love and longing.
he strokes his dick down your aching pussy, teasing you with it, but just before he puts it in, his hand caresses your face cupping your chin as he says, “when i said you were still my girl, i meant it y’know?” and your lips part in surprise at his admission. “although it hurt me, when you left me, you just never stopped being my girl.”
“suguru i-i don’t know what to say,” you stammer, and you didn’t realise until he swipes under your eye, that you were crying. there was so much more to your relationship with geto than just some highschool romance, you loved another, and no one could tell you otherwise.
“tell me that you are,” he prompts, now pressing kisses to your tear stained face, his lips moving down to yours, “tell me that you are still my girl,” he finishes in between kisses. his hopeful eyes still remain on yours, and you could feel him slowly inching his dick into you.
you wrap your legs around his back, your arms hooking around his neck as you pull his head next to yours, your mouth near his ear as you whisper, “i am still yours.” he pushes his dick back into you, his strokes deep and slow. it was different from before, there was no competition or hate between you as you fucked, you didn’t have a point to prove other than the fact that you still loved each other.
geto’s moans are loud, he has nothing to hold back as he growls lowly in your ear. the way he holds you, and takes his time kisses you and fucking you as if he was accounting for this potentially being his last ever time doing so. “i’ll never get enough of this.”
“then don’t go,” you whine, and your words hold a deeper meaning that you both knew but won’t acknowledge knowing it is pointless to discuss any further. you pull him into you deeper, your thighs clenching around him as your hold tightens.
the feeling of you pulling him in, has him clenching his eyes as your pussy takes him in, his mouth takes yours in a powerful kiss, before he mumbles “you gonna let me cum in you, leave you with every last bit of me.” you don’t even respond, just deepening the kiss, your head shaking in agreement.
you both cum together, geto spraying your walls as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into your exposed flesh as he continues to shoot ropes of cum inside of you. you claw at his back as you feel all of him enter you, your cum mixing with his as you cry out in full pleasure.
his forehead rests against yours, as the last bits of his cum enter you and neither of you say anything, all that can be heard is just heavy breaths coming from the both of you. you didn’t know what was to happen now, there was still so much left unsaid, unresolved and things have changed now that geto is literally stuffed inside of you.
geto is about to pull out of you finally, but you stop him muttering a faint, “stay,” and he does. he knows he had somewhere to be, things to do that are bigger than the both of you, but he just couldn’t leave when you ask him to stay. he manoeuvres your body so that you now lay atop him, comfortably cockwarming him as he thumb brushes gentle strokes down your arm.
“y’know i’ve got these two girls, who i think would love you,” he muses.
“what? did you manage to become a father whilst i was away?” you tease.
“something like that, yeah,” he mumbles, a small smile forming on his face as thoughts of nanako and mimiko flash through his mind — they’re a bittersweet reminder of the new life he’s built without you, one that you wouldn’t be able to fit in. it wasn’t that long ago that you’d have thoughts about geto fathering your own kids, dreams of somewhat of a domestic life that you’d now never get to have with him.
“well maybe i can meet them,” you say non-committedly.
“yeah maybe…” his voice falters, as you both know that it would never happen.
“do you enjoy it then?” you ask, “this ‘new’ life of yours.” you could tell just by the brief mention of nanako and mimiko and the way he carries himself that he does enjoy his life, but you were hoping that he’d still answer no.
geto hesitates for a moment, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he contemplates your question, “i…” he begins, his gaze returning to yours, “i won’t lie. it’s different, and there’s moments i find true solace in it, this has been my life for a long time now, so it’s just something i’ve really gotten used to.”
“and you’re happy to go back to it, after this?” your question is loaded, and you feel dumb for even asking but when you did call him over to get him to not go through with his plans, of course your motivations have slightly changed, but your goal is still the same.
“i don’t think you should ask me to make a choice, knowing that im not going to choose you,” he grits out, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but
“you’re not gonna win you know, satoru wouldn’t let it happen,” you couldn’t help yourself, the rejection he just gave you stung, and you wanted him to feel what you felt.
but geto doesn’t bite, he knows you’re hurting—that he’s the cause of it, so he lets you hurt, his hold tightening comfortably as you sulk in his arms. geto places a kiss on your temple, ignoring your comment as he concludes, “let’s just not, okay?”
geto stays with you until your breathing settles into a steady rhythm, and you don’t notice him slipping out of you. he cleans you up and tucks you into your bedsheets, giving you one final stare as if he’s trying to keep a mental image of how you look when he’s last seen you. his lips meet yours in a final, chaste kiss and he mutters a promise that he didn’t think you’d hear, but you do, stirring awake as his lips leave yours, “i’ll see you again… eventually.”
you wake up to an empty room, the warmth of geto's presence replaced by a stark emptiness. the realisation hits you like a wave of cold water – he's gone, leaving nothing behind but soiled sheets and a hollow ache in your chest. there's no note, no message, no trace of his ever being there, except for the lingering scent of him that clings to the air. you know that someone will eventually inform you of the outcome of the night, but deep down, you already suspect that his last promise to you will end up being broken.
AN: first like proper proper real juicy fic that ive written in a long time imo and its just like this took me so long since im soooo sensitive about my geto fics and im just like overly critical about my angsty and fluff and plot fics and my smut and JUST EVERYTHING but I managed to get it all done and I think some parts of this really hit hard. the ending is ofc bittersweet since if we go by canon, he goes and yuta beats his fuckinggg ass and he dies wtf but... the true ending is really up to your imagination. (not really) like dont even think about the ending just focus on the fact that they NEVER TELL EACHOTHER THAT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER BECAUSE UR SO IN LOVE THAT YOU ADMITTING THAT UR STILL 'HIS GIRL' IS ALL THE CONFIRMATION HE NEEDS. my finished an are sooo long why because I FUCKING CAN SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY, PLEASE LMK UR THOUGHTS AND SLAY ALL DAY also thank you @kazushawty and @biscuitsngravie for reading and supporting me 🥹🥹
#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#jjk angst#geto angst#jjk fic#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#geto suguru#jujustsu kaisen x reader#geto x you#geto suguru x you#jujutsu kaisen angst
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wait for you ☆ cl16
genre: fluff, humor, tiny bit of smut, established relationship
word count: 1.8k
An eager Charles tries to convince you to take part in an adorable video to show off your relationship for the first time, but it only lands you two in a clumsy mess.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+…mainly just charles being a tit addict lol, oh and a bit of dry humping ahhah
req!…quickie, but enjoy :) ps. we love a man who understandssss
“Come on! Don’t be like that.”
It takes all of you to not roll your eyes at your needy boyfriend. He was excited to be back to racing after such a long time and this was just pure adrenaline, if you can even call it that. He had brought it up a few nights ago over dinner.
It’s been a year. Actually scratch that. A year and five months. Which is basically two if you stop and think about it.
Humming, you nod with less enthusiasm as he dangles his phone right in front of you, displaying cheesy couple videos.
We can recreate it, people will know, and people will love you. Easy peasy.
But there was nothing easy about any of this. It had stayed a secret for so long for a reason - a perfectly reasonable reason. While you knew the good would most likely outweigh the bad, that didn’t make it less nerve wrecking.
With a heavy sigh, you roll off of his lap, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m not sure, Charles. You know how I feel about all this. Plus, don’t you like knowing it's just you and me who know about us?” You signal between the two of you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he gulps.
“I do love having you to myself…”
“So it’s settled. Not yet.”
The next time he brings it up is when you’re out on a double date with George and Carmen, seeing as they spend a good amount of time here in Monaco. Could be nice, he says, blankly taking a lick from his vanilla ice cream. Would make me happy, y’know…
“I feel like I have to ask,” the Brit mumbles curiously. “Trouble in sex-paradise?”
Choking with surprise, you hurriedly shake your head as Carmen pinches her boyfriend's thigh. He yelps, scooting closer to the Monegasque who continues to pout. Rubbing your temples, you say, “Don’t pay him any attention, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
“Amore, it would be perfect!” Angling his head to the couple, he retreats his phone, already showing off the video. “Wouldn’t it be cute to announce our relationship like that?” Before they have a chance to answer, he nods happily, as if they’ve given him the biggest blessing. “It would, I know it would.”
“Reckon it’s a bit much,” George says while Carmen winces in agreement. Charles’ green eyes flicker to where you bite back a grin, writhing to let loose.
“You guys…”
Carmen pats his hand gently over the table. “Charles, just try and put yourself in her shoes. She’s worried. We’ve all been. Being in the public eye is extremely terrifying. Maybe she’s not ready-”
“Or she’s not that into you.”
The brunette clenches his jaw. “You’re not?”
Giggling, you peck his rosy cheek as he stubbornly gives in, a smile already being drawn onto his lips. “I’m so in love.” Then you turn to the Brit, kicking him sharply underneath the table. “Asshole.”
As he winces in pain, his girlfriend rubs his arm gingerly. “Oh, she’s definitely in love, Charles. But she’s not ready. Just wait on her for a tad bit longer.”
You’re honestly shocked when he doesn’t bring up the topic the time you visit his family, or when you meet up with Pierre and Kika. It was odd, but you didn’t think much of it.
That is until he has you perched on his lap, greedy mouth wrapped around your sore buds. Large hands come in to grip your breasts, squeezing them closer to his face as he groans. You shiver when the cool air hits your wet skin. He smiles wickedly when you start rubbing yourself against his thigh, whimpers entering the room.
“You sound so sweet…”
You grip his shoulders tighter.
“Doing so good for me, yeah?”
You nod with soft pants and tired eyes.
“Do you love me?”
More than anything.
“Then you’ll do the video with me? You will, won’t you, darling?”
“Yes, yes,” you huff, core growing tighter. “Anything and everything you want.”
You can practically feel his smirk against your chest, but are too far gone to even care.
With one last lustful lick, he scoffs. “That’s my girl.”
-
“Okay, stand still,” he instructs, hands fixing his phone against the wooden chair. There's heavy concentration that lingers adorably as he gently bites down on his bottom lip, that it almost makes you regret how much you were dreading this. Balancing yourself on your tippy toes, you giggle nervously. Green eyes look back at you before pressing a kiss against your temple. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Just stand there and look pretty.”
“Because that’s all I’m good for,” you mumble sourly as he aims a deadpan expression. You know that’s not true. Then he presses the countdown and runs out of the frame, leaving you to stand like a lost puppy, soft eyes looking for their owner. Frowning hard at the camera, you sigh. “I really don’t get it-”
All of a sudden, strong arms wrap around your waist as he carries you in a hurry. You’re squealing loudly and shutting your eyes tightly. It leaves you winded as you slip into a coughing fit. Swiftly, the Monegasque places you back down and cradles your face with worried eyes. “Holy shit, are you okay?”
Pushing him away harshly, you shoot daggers at your boyfriend. “What the hell was that? You nearly killed me!”
The brunette winces. “I didn’t mean to do it that fast…” His shoulder droops with panic when you narrow your sharp eyes, chest heaving with slight anger. “Or that hard.”
You step away, frantic arms shooing him. “I’m out, this is stupid.”
“No, wait!” Following after you, he reaches to grab your hand. “I’ll be gentle this time. Let’s just try again.”
A skeptical scowl paints your face before nodding along. Dimples shine back towards you as he happily leads you back to the large kitchen. Slow, Charles. I mean it. Beaming brightly at the screen, you playfully search for him before you catch a glimpse of your clumsy manchild through your peripheral vision. You foolishly flinch as he makes his way and comes to an unexpected halt. He groans and you wail.
“Why did you stop?”
“Why do you look scared?”
Letting out a dry laugh, you bring your hands to your hips, right leg extending out like a strict teacher. “I was doing my part.”
“If looking scared was what you were going for, then mission accomplished.” He rubs his lids. “Try to pretend that you like me. The whole point is to show people that we’re in love.”
“Am I supposed to act like I like you or all lovey dovey? Which one is it?” you bicker back, hair whipping your cheekbones. He rolls his eyes. Stop acting like that, it’s not cute. “It’s not cute,” you mock as you return to your original spot. “Do not fuck this up, Charles.”
“Fine,” he grunts. Repeating the same actions, this time around he manages to trip over his own two feet, landing with a loud splat. The sound of his skin hitting the marble floor has you rolling with laughter and gasping for air. This is great, you wheeze, eyes crinkled. “It’s because I mopped earlier, remember? One last time.”
The Monegaque readies himself like a quarterback, dark eyes drawn to you like a hungry lion. You almost want to laugh with how serious he’s taking all of this, but somehow hold back. Once again, he makes his way on cue, arms wrapping around you securely and taking you down with him this time.
Landing with a low umph, he holds onto you tightly, making sure to land on top of him safely as you yelp. Twisting up quickly, you bang a soft fist against his chest. “Dickhead! What are you doi- I’m not a fucking potatoe sack!”
The brunette manages to sit up, immediately going in to rub his head. Black spots blaze over his eyes. “I think I’m blind.” He pants, loopy eyes making a weak attempt to take in your delicate figure. “You still look like an angel, though.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.” You pause. “A-are you okay, baby?”
Brown locks bounce up lightly. With a heavy sigh, you help him up, leading him carefully towards the couch. Sore shoulders relax against the pillows. You bite down nervously on your thumb as you debate calling for help, given as how he hasn’t spoken much after the catastrophe. He hums. “I’m fine. Sit.”
“Oh, good,” you say, releasing out a breath of relief. As soon as he feels a dip next to him, he peeks one eye open, finding you with a pale face. A strong sense of protection takes over as he pushes your hair back, making sure to analyze everything about you. Why are you colorless? Did it hurt? Does anything hurt? We can go to the hospital to get you checked out. Actually, let's go.
He’s already grabbing your hand, flinging you to stand up when you let go. “I said I was okay. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You took it the hardest, I swear I heard the sound of a coconut crack.” A teasing smile slips onto your berry lips, closed fist gently knocking against his head. “Only making sure.”
“Ha-ha.” Bringing you towards his chest, you nuzzle your face sweetly. “I tripped again-”
“I know,” you giggle, though it comes out slightly muffled, and slightly demonic. But it makes him grin eagerly, hand flying to smack your ass. You jump, feeling his chest vibrate as he chuckles. “This was an utter mess. How about we try again tomorrow?”
“How about we don’t?”
You pull away, hands pressing against his tall frame. “But I thought you wanted to do this…”
“I do, but you’re not ready.” A boyish wince strikes his face. “And I’m not going to force you.” You can’t help the swing your heart goes through with his sweet gesture. He continues. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this in the first place; I knew you weren’t ready and I still tried. I’m sorry.”
Guilt eats you up with his words. “I swear I want to do this for you. I can try again!” Slithering out of his tight grip, you cluelessly look for his phone. He chuckles at your cute pout of determination.
“But you’re not ready,” he states for the second time. “I’ll wait for you to be.”
The internet was a scary place - one you dread very much - but it’s true. You would have done this with him, even if you weren’t open to it. But the fact that he understood regardless…
Sheepishly marching your way over to the green eyed boy, you shoot a shy wink. “When I am…I’ll let you know?”
He grins, arms wide open as you find a home between them. “Of course.”
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stay the night | rafe cameron (18+)
pairing: rafe cameron x female reader
summary: when rafe cameron sees you as just a fuck buddy, you embody the role and remind him what that means.
warnings: MDNI, 18+, smut, jealousy, dominance play, oral receiving (f + m), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, praise kink, a little bit of fluff at the end
word count: 5.5k
zya's notes: i originally had this planned for my “brother’s rival” series but it didn’t fit so here u go
dedication: thank u @xorafe for beta-reading and ur feedbacks, u truly are a real one <3
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃
⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
Rafe Cameron doesn't get jealous.
You two aren't a couple. You are nothing more than casual fuck buddies that are conveniently located within proximity of one another when one of you need to blow off some steam or get off. The feeling is completely mutual.
However, you've been exclusive.
It's unspoken, of course. No one is willing to admit that they don't want the other to be sleeping with other people and you settled on that ambiguity.
You thought it could mean something more.
You thought wrong.
The other day, after fooling around, you laid in his bed, wearing nothing, and asked if you could stay the night. As part of your undefined relationship, you don't do sleepovers. Rafe doesn't do sleepovers. However, he was the one who was calling you after midnight. He was the one who wanted you to sneak out of your house, where your parents placed a curfew. If you go home now, you would be caught dead in the act and get into trouble. It would be easier to save yourself and stay over.
"No." Rafe declared, not letting the suggestion linger for more than a second. You lifted yourself from the bed by propping your elbows against his mattress, staring at the man who's searching for his throwaway clothes on the floor and redressed himself. "We don't do sleepovers. I don't want to be caught with a Pogue."
"Rafe." You said with a hint of annoyance. He saw you naked, but he was afraid of being seen with you in public? "It's fucking four in the morning. My parents are going to see me."
He scoffed. "Not my problem."
"So what? You don't care if I get in trouble?"
He shrugged, pulling his shirt over his chest. "You're just a fuck."
You said nothing. You just stared at him. He quickly gets dressed and finds your clothes around his floor, throwing them on the bed for you to take. With a huff, you pull yourself from the comforts and put them on.
"I'll call you." He said as you walked out of his bedroom, but you didn't answer him. All you did was flip him off and make your way out.
The next morning, you got in trouble with your parents regarding your absence. But, you said nothing, taking the lecture they gave you and headed to your room.
And you thought, if he sees me as a quick fuck, fine. I'll be just that.
The next Kook party, you were there. You always attended Kook parties, despite being a Pogue, simply because the alcohol is all free and it tasted better. No more cheap beer on The Boneyard, but you had to admit—the music was better.
Kooks can't play for shit.
This party happened to be on Tanneyhill, the mansion where Rafe lived. You haven't seen him since the last time you hooked up, and it's been the longest you've gone without seeing each other. Sure, he called you but you let it go to voicemails and all his texts were left on read. You know, without a doubt, Rafe would be looking for you and attempting to pull you to the nearest bathroom to fuck your brains out.
But you didn't care.
(Maybe just a little).
After dancing for a while, grinding against random strangers and making conversations with some friends of yours, you settled into a seat next to a Kook. He introduced himself as Ethan, and you chat with him as you drink from your cup, making small talk about what you're doing this summer.
He seemed interested enough. His eyes shamelessly glance down at your top, which practically shows off your tits, and floats back to your lips a couple of times. You knew if you wanted to, he would've follow you to a bedroom and fuck you.
But you didn't.
You laughed at his jokes. You told some of your own.
All while having an nagging feeling of a pair of eyes on the back of your head.
You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. You know exactly who.
And Rafe Cameron is fuming.
He noticed you when you first walked in, in a top that shows off too much and a skirt that covers practically nothing. You walked into Tanneyhill as if you owned the place, despite being a Pogue, and that's one of the things that irritates him about you.
But it also made him attracted to you.
Your confidence. Your demeanor. You never backed down when Rafe tries to put you in your place and you never let him gain control without a fight. He likes that you make him work for it; there's a thrill in the chase. Because he knows, at the end of the day, it's his bed that you ended up in. It's his cock that you're sucking.
But, at this moment, he isn't so sure. Instead of being in his arms, talking to him, you were talking to some random fucking guy who attended Kook Academy and is making you laugh.
You didn't even bother to tell him you were coming.
Rafe thought he could hold it in until he got you alone.
But that was before the guy put his hand on your upper thigh and you let him.
It takes mere seconds for Rafe to cross the yard, and when he comes behind you, it surprises you at how silent he was. "Get your hands off my fucking girl," he snapped at Ethan and before Ethan got the chance to back off, Rafe grabs your arm and pulls you off the chair, taking you inside of Tanneyhill.
You let him drag you for a few moments. The booze in your system is making your reaction sluggish, but when the realization dawns on you, you finally pull away when you reach in front of his bedroom, hidden in a dark hallway.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
He scoffs at your words. "What am I doing?" He repeats. You nod. He jabs an accusing finger in your direction. "What the fuck are you doing?"
You lift the cup to your lips. "I'm drinking."
His eyes are livid. "With that guy?" He gestures outside where Ethan is, jealousy pouring from his words and he sounds like he's using every inch of restraint he has to hold everything together. You shouldn't be enjoying it so much, but you are. When you don't answer him, feigning a bored expression, Rafe gets more frustrated. He doesn't like that you aren't reacting. He doesn't like it at all. "What's your fucking problem?"
You lift your shoulders in a casual shrug, pressing the red solo cup against your lips and says, "thought I was just another fuck."
He knows you were throwing his words back at him. He knows that this is some fucking test that you're doing to drive him bad. He also knows it's working, so much so that he knocks the cup out of your hands, causing the content to spill all over his marble floor. "Fuck you."
You scoff, unfazed by his aggression. "You already did." You say, and while Rafe is silently raging underneath, you decide to take it a step further. Closing in the distance until you're right in front of his face, you smirk, "and you fucking loved it."
Rafe is breathing hard, his blue eyes searching your face, his chest raising and falling in rapid beats as frustration rolls off of him, all while you tip your head to the side, raising your brow, challenging him to respond.
He does.
By slamming his lips against yours.
One of his hands catches the back of your neck as he presses a bruising and punishing kiss against your lips, eliciting a moan from the back of your throat. Instinctively, you throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.
"You're mine." He breathes against your lips when you break apart, trailing kisses down the column of your neck as you tip your head back to give him more access, feeling his mouth working against your skin. "And no fucking asshole from the Academy is going to take you away from me."
Wanting to tease him further, you say. "What if I leave?"
He answers you by sucking on a sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to arch into him and let out an involuntary moan as his free hand descends down to your short skirt and roughly palms your ass. Rafe chuckles against your skin, satisfied by your body's reaction to him. "Then no one is going to make you feel like I do."
His hands move to pull down your top, causing your tits to spill out of the fabric. The cold air pricks at your exposed skin and Rafe takes a beat of a second to admire you before lifting his gaze to meet you in an easy, cocky grin.
"So ready for me," he teases, moving his hand up to play with your hardened nipples between his fingers. You let out a small sigh. "God, you're fucking gorgeous."
"Shut up," you say, not liking how his words are making your cheeks flush with heat and a flutter of butterflies to swarm your stomach. This is just a fuck, you remind yourself. He lifts his blue eyes to meet you for a brief second before descending his mouth down to cover one of your nipples.
You always like playing with yourself there. As his tongue swirls around the sensitive tip, his teeth lightly graze against the bud, causing your moan to echo across the hallway and his hand immediately slaps over your mouth, silencing them.
Rafe's eyes lock with yours. "You don't want anyone to hear what a needy girl you are, do you?"
You clench your jaw underneath his hand, at his dominance, but when you don't answer fast enough, he asks again. "Do you?"
You shake your head and he pulls himself off of you, the cold invades the absence of his heat. But, Rafe doesn't leave you for long. He grabs your hand and pulls you into his bedroom. The moment the door slams close, his lips return on yours and his hands explore over your exposed body.
Your core clenches as Rafe slams you against the back of the door, kissing you hungrily as he lowers his hand to the cutoff of your skirt and pushes the flimsy material up to your hips before cupping your pussy.
"God, you're dripping," he says with a small laugh, looking up to you. "Are you this wet for me, baby?"
You are. Rafe Cameron has a way to make your entire body responsive to him, his touch, his kisses, his everything. But, you don't want to let him know that. You don't know how much you want it, how much you need it.
Instead of answering him, you say with a roughness to your voice, "if you don't fuck me, Cameron, I'll find someone else who will."
Humor leaves his face and his expression hardens. He cups your cunt hard, causing you to involuntary jolt forward into his hand and a small whimper to escape you. "This is mine. No other fucking man is going to touch this but me."
"Big words for someone who hasn't made me come."
His eyes darken and, with your taunting and teasing getting to him, he finally pushes your panties to the side and inserts a rough finger inside of your pussy, causing you to wince at the abrupt motion. "Can you handle it?"
You nod with closed eyes, feeling as he adds a second finger, thrusting in a steady but rough pace, his other hand fondling with your tits.
You lean back against the door with heavy breaths, moaning and clenching as your orgasm builds from his rhythm. Rafe knows your body, he knows you're about to come, and as your moans get more erratic and you grind harder into his hand, he quickens his thrusts. Leaning into you, he says to your ear, "let it out, baby."
You do.
Your walls clench around his fingers tightly as you ride on your high, so much so that you hear his muttered fuck under his breath. When you're slowly coming down from your climax, Rafe removes his hand. The loss of his touch causes you to frown but before you get the chance to open your eyes and complain, he pushes the wet digits against the entrance of your lips. "Suck."
You want to argue back, about him telling you what to do, but you can't seem to help but listen. Your eyes open and find his face, watching you as you suck his fingers clean of your arousal. "Good girl."
When he withdraws his fingers, clarity dawns on you. He's wearing too much while you're practically exposed. You didn't like how uneven the playing field is, and with a gesture to his shirt and pants, you demand. "Take it off."
His smirk is smug. "Eager, aren't we?"
"If I have to be naked, so do you."
"You aren't naked." He gestures back to you and you look down at yourself. While your tits are showing and your panties are soak, he's right, you technically aren't naked. Not afraid of backing down from a challenge, you easily pull your tiny top over your shoulders and push your skirt and panties down to your ankles.
Stepping out of them, you look back to see Rafe admiring your naked body. You can see the outline of his erection straining against his pants, and for a moment, a self-consciousness creeps up on you and you blush. With a hard swallow, you point to him. "Your turn."
The corner of his lips quirks up at how demanding you are and he pulls his shirt over his body, revealing the defined and taunt muscles of his chest underneath. Your mouth waters. You watch as he goes for his belt—knowing you’re watching—that he teases it out slowly. He messes with the buckle, taking his sweet time, that you grow impatient.
"Goddammit," you mutter under your breath, approaching him and pushing his hands out of the way, sinking to your knees as you unbuckle the belt with ease—practices from all the other times. When you pull it out of his pants, you stop, looking up to Rafe.
"Go on, princess." He gestures, a cocky grin at the sight of you on your knees for him. "Finish what you started."
You hate how much power he has over you this time, how he is telling you what to do, but because of how needy you are, how much you want him between your legs and his cock to be in you, you listen. You unzip and pull down his pants, revealing an impressed bulge underneath his briefs. With one easy tug, you freed his cock and it stood in front of you, hard and leaking with pre-cum.
On your knees, you look up to see Rafe watching you, waiting to see what you do. His eyes are hungry and his arousal is obvious. Tentatively, you wrap your hand around the thick cock, your fingers barely connecting together because of his girth.
And slowly, you rub up and down his shaft.
A hiss leaves the back of Rafe's throat and satisfaction pools in your core at the realization that you are making him feel this way, that you have this much control. "Faster." He commands, his voice thick with desire.
Instead of listening to his orders, you open your mouth and take his cock in your mouth, swallowing the salty taste as you swirl your tongue at his head. Added with the motion of your hand playing with his balls, and rubbing him up and down, Rafe can’t help but rock his hips against your face.
“Fuck,” he swears, his hand finds your hair and pulls your closer to him, as your grip around him gets firmer and you hollow your cheeks, creating a stronger suction. Rafe groans under your touch, tugging the root of your strands, wanting you to do anything and everything to build him closer to his climax. “Fuck, baby, I’m close.”
With that pride of information, you slow down, your fingers loosen their pace and you pop the cock out of your mouth. Rafe feels the instant loss of touch and he looks down at you, his expression hard and angry.
"What the fuck?"
"Say please."
He says your name in a command, but you don't budge.
Rafe's blue eyes are hard. He knows you do this. He knows you like to mess with him, take back control whenever you find yourself in a small position of power and remind him of his place. Irritation builds in his chest, this time worse than the others, but so does his delayed climax. He needs it more.
With a reluctant sigh, he says, "please."
You return your motion, moving in slow, torturous strokes as your hand moves up and down his slick length, creating enough pleasure for him to feel but not enough friction to ease into his climax. Your mouth has yet to return on his cock and without the added assistance, his jaw tense and his frustration and horniness builds.
In a desperate plea, Rafe begs, "baby, please."
His voice didn't sound like his own and his words are so rough, so willing, that you can't help but alleviate him from his misery. You reconnect your lips on his tip and begin to rub his faster, firmer, sucking him harder. With the edge of delay, Rafe comes fast with a guttural groan, spilling in your mouth as you lap over the taste, swallowing all of it.
Rafe lowers himself and guides you back to your feet, pulling you towards the bed and pushing you flat against the mattress, laying on your back.
He lowers himself off the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees as he steps in front of your exposed pussy, and looks up to see the self-satisfied smirk on your face at the little stunt you pulled back there. In a low voice, he says, "you're going to regret that."
A finger drags up your slit, in a slow motion, gathering your wetness on the digit but producing enough pressure that it makes you whine. You try to grind yourself against his hand but he lays his palm on the flat of your stomach, holding you in place.
When his eyes connect with your needy gaze, he says, “my turn.”
Dipping his head between your legs, he kisses your inner thighs in slow, agonizing touches. It produces an aching feel to your core as he gives careful attention to both of your thighs, slowly creeping up to your throbbing cunt, but not quite giving you a release.
Rafe lingers on a particular sensitive spot near your pussy, sucking and kissing the placement until you're writhing in pleasure and frustration, desperate to feel his tongue in you.
"Rafe," you say with a throaty beg and he grins against your skin.
"I said you're going to regret it."
"Yeah, and if you take any longer, I'm going to go downstairs to find Ethan."
Rafe hates it when you mention other men, or even think of other men, especially when he’s fucking you, but it does the trick as he moves between you and his fingers spread your folds. “You are this wet for me, baby, not Ethan,” he reminds you, before lowering himself to your pussy, flattening his tongue against your center before moving up and down in slow strokes.
“Fuck,” you moan as he finds your sensitive clit and sucks on the nub, the sound of wetness fills the bedroom as the low volume of the music thumps from downstairs. He lets one finger enter your cunt, beginning at a slow pace. “Rafe, ohmygod.”
He moves faster, rougher, lapping out your taste as if he was dying of thirst. With his finger quickening and his tongue working a miracle on you, another orgasm builds.
“I’m close,” you whisper and he nods. He moves with precision and god, Rafe Cameron is good at eating pussy. When his tongue enters into you and the pad of his thumb rubs circular motions around your clit, you can’t help but arch into his pleasure and come on his face.
You fall against the mattress with a heavy breath, but Rafe doesn’t stop. He continues to suck and lap and rub, causing you to wrap your thighs tightly around his head. You’re already so exhausted, so sensitive, coming down from your high, but that does nothing to satiate the man between your legs—fingers and tongue buried inside of you, still hungry.
Your thighs violently shake and your fingers rack through his hair, pulling, “ohmygod, ohmygod,” you moan as he works another orgasm from you, your stomach tightening and the pressure being so unbearable you feel as if you’re going to cave and explode.
“Come for me, baby, I want another one.” He mumbles against your cunt, the low hum of his voice vibrates through your body in a pleasurable sensation. With a rougher pace and a harder suction around your clit, you come for a second time in a row.
You’re an absolute wreck when he pulls away and, assessing the damage he caused, Rafe chuckles at the sight before him. You splay out on the mattress, breathing heavily with low lids and the prettiest pussy. He lowers himself, placing both hands on either side of your head to carry his weight, he plants a soft kiss on your lips.
His eyes set on you, a gentle gaze, and whispers. “Can you take another, baby?”
Though you are weak from all the orgasms you endured, you still nod, looping your arms around his neck as he descends closer to you, planting kisses against your lips, the corner of your mouth, to the edge of your jawline. You can feel his erection grazing at your entrance, waiting to enter, and the thought itself ignites another round of passion and need within you.
Rafe pulls back just enough to line his cock against your wet folds. Before he enters, he looks up to you, waiting for a confirmation sign. When you nod, he slowly pushes the length into your aching core and you jerk forward.
He goes in slow at first, allowing your walls to adjust to his size because, no matter how many times he’s been inside of you, it still takes a moment for your pussy to register that this is him. That this is his pussy. A hiss escapes the back of his throat. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
You, with what little strength you have left, push yourself up as he rocks against your hips, beginning his thrusts. You get closer to him, grabbing his shoulders, while he takes the opportunity to play with your tits.
This new position allows him to enter deeper inside of you, hitting a new angle, causing you to let out a cry from the explosion of pleasure. In addition to the remnants of the orgasms you had a few moments prior, as Rafe pounds into your very sensitive core, you begin to feel as if you’re seeing stars.
Rafe leans down, closer to your ear as he asks, "who's fucking you?"
You feel your stomach knot and tighten, knowing he’s getting you close. But, you also can feel his cock twitching inside your walls, alerting you that he’s also getting close. With this dynamic power, you turn your head to face Rafe, connecting your heavy-lid eyes with his.
“Ethan.”
Rafe stills. His eyes darken at your words, watching the way your lips curl with an innocent look and he decided he hates it. He hates this little power play you're doing to him, he hates how it's working. He knows that you two are nothing more than fuck buddies, but without the reassurance that you are his—fully, devotedly his—he doesn't know if you haven't fucked another guy before. If you haven't had Ethan's name on your lips.
His hand lowers between the two of you, lightly grazing against your sensitive clit. You jolt into his touch. "Did you fuck him?"
His voice is low, dangerously low, as you watch how serious he turned with the tease of another man's name. You tilt your head to the side, challenging him. "And if I did?"
He pinches your clit and your hips arch forward, but he uses his other hand to grab it still. Your core throbbing while he remains inside of you and does nothing. You realize, in this moment, that you might've gone too far. You feel full and have everything in your possession to make you reach your highest peak but you chose to delay it with a joke that wasn't even that funny.
Especially not now.
Rafe slowly rubs your clit with his fingers, painfully light, teasing and punishing you all in one. You gasp into his touch, but he doesn't let you move. His grip remains firm on your hips, holding you in place as you ache around his cock, as he can feel your walls clench around him, begging to be fucked.
But he needs to hear you say it.
"Rafe," you choke, and his eyes connect with yours. Your eyes are teary, your breathing is erratic, and you are trying desperately to produce some friction between your legs and give you some semblance of pleasure. "Rafe, move."
"No, princess," he says with a deadly calm, shaking his head. "You want to play mind games with me all night, fine. But tonight, I'm going to fucking hear you say my name." He repeats himself with aggression, his fingers skims across your sensitive nub. "Who. Is. Fucking. You?"
You grip his shoulders, your eyes meeting his, and your core aches painfully. You try to grind yourself against him, trying to produce some friction of your own, but he uses both hands to grab your hips, stilling you in place with a deadly grip you are sure is going to leave a mark.
He shakes his head, firm on getting the answer out of you.
With teary eyes, you beg. "Please, Rafe. Please."
He grins with that self-satisfying charm. He loves it when you finally break your dominance. He loves it more when he can break you.
His thrust begins at a slow rate, still on the edge of punishment, but at least you can feel some friction producing between your legs. You look down at his cock entering and leaving your cunt, the image gratifying, but Rafe roughly grabs your chin and forces you to look back up.
"Look at me." He commands, his voice shallow as the slow thrust is killing him, but he needed to teach you a lesson. "I want you to remember this when you're looking at anyone else. Talking to any other fucking guy. Remember how I make you feel."
You nod frantically. Desperate at this point to say anything to get Rafe to move faster, harder, providing you with your climax. He sees it in your eyes, how he finally got you, that it makes him smile.
"God, look at you," he chuckles. "You want me to fuck you so bad."
"Yes," you beg, "yes, please. I'll do anything."
"Anything?" He asks again, the proposition is too nice to tease out.
You nod, blinking through the tears. "Anything."
He grins at this exchange of power, when he holds all of it, that he finally relents and quickens his pace. You grip harder on his shoulders as Rafe thrusts into you, rocking his hips against yours.
You claw and moan against his skin, using it as an anchor for all the pain and pleasure ripping through you, and he takes it as a mark of honor. When he lowers one hand between the two of you, using the pad of his thumb to rub small circles around your clit, you see stars float in your vision.
"I'm coming," you pant against his skin. "God, please, I'm coming."
Rafe's hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him, and nods. "Come for me, baby."
When you feel your orgasm hit its all-time high, you slump in exhaustion against his shoulders, while he continues to move in and out of you. It takes a few seconds later before Rafe comes, feeling his hot cum leaking out of you.
He doesn’t remove his cock from your pussy and honestly, you don’t want him to. You want to stay like this for a moment, to catch your breath and come to the dawning realization that this is the best sex of your life. You didn’t want it to end.
Rafe lays his chin on your small shoulder, pushing your wet hair to the side as he recovers.
“Be my girl.” He whispers, so quiet, that you thought you imagined it. You weakly pull back, connecting your widened eyes with his.
"What?"
"Be my girl," he repeats once more, his blue eyes vulnerable and tracing your features to see if there's any hint of rejection on the bay. "I can't fucking stand you with other guys. I don't even want you to say their names. I want you. All of you."
You hesitate. "Rafe..."
"You said you'll do anything." He reminds you.
"You said you don't want to be seen with a Pogue."
He growls. "Fuck what I said," he snaps with a shake of his head, raising his hand to wipe the leftover tears from your face. "I want you. I don’t care about anything else. Just say yes."
You look at him and soften your gaze. You have wanted this, you admit, you wanted him to confess to you that he wants you as much as you want him. But, for a moment, in this brief second, you’re afraid that if you agree you would submit to everything you’ve fought against. The control you tried so hard to retain.
He sees it. He knows you’re having an internal battle. Using his hand, he cups the side of your face, the heat and comfort of his palm makes you instinctively lean into him. “Please.” He begs softly, giving you one last shred of power.
With a small chuckle of your own, you finally nod. "Okay."
He grins, and without hesitation, presses another kiss against your lips. This time, it lacks the power and control you two have been fighting for all night but rather is sweet, sensitive and patient. He pushes you back against the mattress, using his arms to hold up his weight.
When he pulls apart, both of you are out of breath and breathing heavily. He offers you a genuine smile, at how proud he is that you’re his, and uses the pad of his thumb to rub across your flushed cheeks. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
You blush, waiting to pull away from his touch but Rafe knows you. He grabs a hold of your face, holding you in place so you can’t tear your gaze from him. “I’m serious. Since you’re my girlfriend now, you have to get used to that or else people are going to assume I don’t compliment you enough.”
You scoff. “You don’t. The only times you say nice things to me is when you’re in me.”
“Yeah?” He challenges, cocking one of his brows. You nod. “That’s going to change. Prepare for me to shower you with compliments every time I see you,” he says, as he lowers himself and plants a soft kiss on your shoulder blade. “Especially when I’m in you.”
You roll your eyes, pushing him off as your eyes find the clock in the back of the wall. You didn’t realize how late it was.
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. Rafe turns to you, his brows knit together in confusion.
"What?"
"It's almost one am. I promised my parents I was going to go home at eleven."
He glances at the clock, before returning his gaze back to you. "Stay the night."
"What?"
"You said it would save you trouble, right?" You hesitantly nod. "Just stay the night."
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe how much he’s willing to give in now that you’re finally his. Maybe you should’ve made him jealous a long time ago. Your first instinct is to tease him about it, but you decide that you had enough power play. The both of you deserve some rest and plus, sleeping with Rafe would be a comforting feel after the sex you just had.
When he comes to approach you, settling between your legs as he waits for an answer, you run your hands through his messy blond locks. “Okay.”
#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe smut#rafe fic#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader#obx smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#obx#rafe cameron x female reader#outer banks#zya's fics#rafe jealous#zya's rafe cameron one shots
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I absolutely adore your writing,
For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?
sunshine.
op x fem!reader - 4k celebration
in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…
hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚
songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing
2.9k words
oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.
he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.
the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.
his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.
as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.
“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.
“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.
“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.
“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.
your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.
“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.
“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.
“he dumped me.”
“oh.”
“yeah.”
“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.
“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.
“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.
“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.
“oh. oh.”
“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.
“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.
“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.
“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”
you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.
he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.
you pass out right around chandler’s vows.
-
you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.
you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.
for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?
“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.
oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.
you kiss him.
because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.
his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.
he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.
“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.
“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.
“really?”
“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.
“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.
and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.
“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.
“why?”
“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-
“oh.”
“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”
“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”
“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.
“then you better do something.”
oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.
“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”
“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.
his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.
“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.
“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.
you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.
“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.
“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.
“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.
his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.
you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.
“want all of you, osc.” you plead.
“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.
oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.
he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.
oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.
“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”
you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.
his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.
“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.
“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.
“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.
you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.
it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.
“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.
a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.
“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.
“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.
you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.
“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.
“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.
“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.
he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.
“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.
you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.
“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.
“so bad.” you pant.
“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.
he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.
“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.
“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.
“move.”
oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.
“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.
“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.
“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.
his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.
when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.
his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.
the most beautiful sunshine man.
“hi.” he whispers.
“hi.” you whisper back.
an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.
“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.
“perfect.” you agree.
“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.
“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.
“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.
when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.
“thank god you broke in.”
-
oh i’m soft
-
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