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bluebeary-jay · 6 months

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CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

“And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age, for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together.

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.

#bluebeary-jay's 1k party #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #peepaw needs some love and we need a volunteer #joel miller x you #the last of us #i love writing joel so shy and fumbling over his words #he might be an unstoppable force and ready to kill people without batting an eye but he WILL blush while talking to a pretty girl

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unhealthy-leon-brainrot · 1 year

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i would like to thank every single leon x reader fic writer who has written about reader being generally insecure about their self and their worth in the relationship 💐😭

(if you’ve written one, please reblog with a link to your fic!! i promise you ill read it and hype it up !!!!! i seriously love supporting the leon kennedy nation!!! 💞)

#being someone so painfully insecure about their self.. i find comfort and solace in those fics :’)#imagine thinking youre literally one of the most unattractive ppl in your community who somehow ends up with someone like LEON???? 💀#mf could pull ANYONE he wanted but he still chose YOU???? HUHHH?? (yes im projecting SHUSH)#when reader tries to hide their insecurity from leon but it eventually bleeds out UGHHHH LOVE THAT SHIT #and when there are third parties involve that make reader jealous/envious of them…..#AND THEN LEON FINDS OUT ABOUT IT ALL AND GRADUALLY ASSURES/REASSURES YOU ABOUT EVERYTHING #HE HOLDS YOU KISSES YOU AND MAKES LOVE TO YOU AND GENERALLY SHOWS YOU HOW MUCH YOU MEAN TO HIM 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔#oh no not another word vomit 💀#anyway i fucking love leon x insecure reader fics 🫶#especially if it starts out angsty and ends up being the softest fucking thing ever bc u can just FEEL leon’s love…. SOBBING AGAIN 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#leon kennedy x reader #seriously thank you leon fic writers <33

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souglias · 2 years

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The Weightless Word That Anchors You To His Side [Sougo] [Kamui]

c/w: blood, injury, violence, tons of swearing, slight spoilers for Mitsuba arc

Cross-posted on ao3

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SOUGO!! This is my offering to you, mister super sadist. Meanwhile, @goldenlaquer HI uh it's me the anon who asked if I could write the Kamui idea. The Kamui fic is my offering to u, thank u for feeding me so much tasty gintama content. I will not shut up about 'Who Runs The World? Sadists' and 'All The World's A Stage'. I hope this is good enough for u (and if it is can we be friends :"> okay but on a serious note, no pressure!!) Lastly, shoutout to @divinavulpes and @pen-observing for listening to me scream about how much I suffered while writing these and helping me for the Kamui fic <3

Thank u for all the likes and reblogs on my first gintama fic <3

[Sougo]

How fleeting anything beautiful is.

The maple leaves that cling onto their branches as winter starts to exhale its frost into the landscape. They all fall onto the ground at the end of autumn, no matter how much they try. When humans step on them, cracks run across their coloured bodies and are long forgotten.

His sister who was at the peak of health, yet it declined abruptly months after he left for Edo. She’s undergone countless treatments and swallowed thousands of pills. But she still left even before she had a single grey streak in her pale brown hair.

Sougo doesn’t see anything as beautiful anymore. A pair of dirt-tinted glasses he wears to view the world. Everything is shit and ugly, especially you. He makes sure he smears more mud on his dirt-tinted glasses when he looks at you.

You're just supposed to be a housekeeper who happened to take up the job opening at the Shinsengumi for the summer holiday. (Matsudaira finally decided someone needed to clean after a whole army of his men, especially with all the tamakin* lurking around.)

It's all good until Sougo bumps into you with a tray of cold soba. The soba spills all over your apron, bits of the soup staining your shirt.

With a deadpan voice, he comments, “You should keep your eyes on the path in front, mx housekeeper. Now you have to pay for another bowl of soba for me.”

You admit you weren’t paying too much attention to your surroundings and only focusing on cleaning. But the monotone of his voice ticks you off.

Pursing your lips, you attempt to be careful not to let anything too sharp out of your mouth. “I’m so sorry, I was just too focused on trying to make this place clean.”

He doesn’t break eye contact with you for a few seconds and you think he’s already going to send in a request to fire you. Instead, he holds out an open palm. You raise an eyebrow at him and it prompts him to brush his thumb against his fingertips as he mouths “money”. Scoffing under your breath, you shove your hand into your pocket and give him whatever change you have. You don’t check if it’s enough and storm off.

(It wasn't.)

Aside from cleaning, you help some of the men tidy their rooms if they request it. Your job scope does not include any of the men’s rooms because Kondo said that the men should all be responsible for their own spaces. But you don’t mind the extra work since you often finish the required tasks early.

It is all good until Sougo asks you to clean his room with a bunch of insults.

“Are you a pushover? You’re not paid to clean my room but you do it when I ask you anyway?”

You narrow your eyes at him before you turn back to wipe the shelf with a cloth. “I’m trying to be generous to a slob who has a dusty space for a room.”

He clenches his jaw because you’re right with all the layers of dust on the sliding doors and shelves.

“Generosity? Don’t kid with me, I know there won’t be any more of such shit as more time passes. You’ll laze around or leave for home early before you’re dismissed eventually.”

How wrong you prove him to be.

You help him to replace the yellowed and slightly tattered paper over his sliding door. You help Hijikata sweep up the ashes lying around in his room. You stash some different flavoured bread in Yamazaki’s cupboard so he doesn’t have to snack on anpan even on his off days. All with their permission, of course.

When they thank you in their ways, you give Sougo a look that says “how’s that, you sadistic bitch?”

Sougo snickers at you when Hijikata passes you a bowl of ramen with a mountain of mayo as thanks, filled with amusement. You force the whole bowl of ramen down your throat because you’re worried the demon vice-chief of the Shinsengumi was going to punish you for rejecting his gift.

He laughs at your face that’s gradually turning green and pokes at your queasy stomach.

(Not long later, you suppose you get the last laugh. You throw up all over him and you smirk at him while you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, albeit weakly.)

As time passes, the amount of tasks for you reduces and you’re finding it hard not to laze around. Whenever you see Sougo within your view, you wipe over the top of an already clean table a second time. The second time, you do it a little more slowly too.

When you lie in their backyard to admire the azure blue sky, Sougo’s voice bounces around the walls of your mind. Lazing around, are you?

It makes you immediately jump up to find something to do. You spit a 'tch' out of your mouth, frustrated at how you're letting a mere captain influence your actions.

Eventually, you find yourself peeking through the windows of their dojo and watching them train. You pick up a branch and try to imitate whatever you see being taught. Engrossed in your new “skill”, you forget to be on the lookout for the super sadist. The one time you forget to check if you’re within his line of sight, Sougo catches you.

“Slacking off, are you? Or are you practising some ‘special’ sword techniques to swat a fly that intrudes into our compound?”

You drop the branch, fumbling for an excuse.

“I’m already done with my work today. Besides, I could use some self-defence skills with a stick.”

He mocks you, “Please, [name]. What kind of world do you think we live in? Look, your footwork is already all wrong. You can’t just stand with your feet shoulder apart, you need to have your dominant foot forward too.”

The two of you have an impromptu session behind the dojo, him correcting your posture first. You can tell midway he decides to go spartan on you because you think he’s already asked you to swing this stupid branch 50 times. After possibly the 100th time, you start swinging the branch at him.

As he dodges your strikes, he comments, “You’re already as good as me when I was 7.”

“Is that a compliment?”

He just scoffs and tells you to think what you like to think. Right after that, he whacks your side with the wooden sword he pulls from his hip and you tumble to the ground.

(He grins as he watches you clutch your side, face contorted with pain. You swear you will defeat him one day. Perhaps you will since you start showing up to the dojo to train and you’re improving fast.)

Towards the end of summer, you start helping out in the kitchen too. On a particular day, you head out to the market to help the canteen chefs replenish their stocks. Hijikata asks you to help him get a bottle of mayonnaise from the supermarket.

A bunch of ruffians bump into you as you’re carrying bags of food back. You hear the eggs crack in one of the bags that dropped. They stare daggers at you, but you glare back at them. The guy with a red afro, who you suppose is the leader, stomps up to you. His face hovering right in front of yours.

“Hey, apologise.”

“Why? You should apologise.”

He barks out a laugh, “What a feisty kid! You wanna die or something?”

You’re about to open your mouth when a hand grabs the red afro man’s face. Whoever's behind you shoves the man away from you, causing the ruffian to pinch his nose in agony. A monotonous voice replies, “Sorry, this housekeeper is a fucking cockroach, hanging around dirty corners. I don’t think it’s a good idea to put your face so close to them.”

Sougo pulls you backwards, your back colliding with his chest. He raises his unsheathed sword and points the metal tip between the afro man’s eyes. His voice comes out low, a snarl of a vicious dog.

“Leave.”

They turn tail and run. You hop out of his grasp, fanning your burning face.

You mutter thanks as Sougo picks up the bags you’ve dropped. Sougo tilts his body towards you, his free hand cupped around his ear. “What’s that? I couldn’t hear you?”

It’s your turn to scoff and you walk forward without replying to him. On the way back, the back of your hand bumps into his way too many times.

(Sougo doesn’t see non-samurai talk back often. Maybe you’re secretly one.)

With you, Sougo forgets for a while he’s not allowed to see anything as beautiful. That’s his fatal mistake.

He only remembers he shouldn't when he sees your body leaning limply on the wall behind you, head hanging forward. It only slaps him in the face when he sees streaks of red all over your body as if the perpetrator took your body for a canvas and your blood for paint. A sickening halo of crimson starts to pool on the ground beneath you. He notices you holding a metal rod with a splotch of blood on its edge.

Sougo hears swords being unsheathed behind him. He immediately identifies them as remnants of a malicious yakuza that the Shinsengumi attempted to wipe out months ago. They start making threats that Sougo knows are empty. He makes easy work of them, unaware of the beast that his enemies see in his eyes. As he cuts them down, he notices that one of the opponents already has a bleeding wound on his head.

An amused laugh spills out of his lips.

The moment the last opponent falls to their knees, he rushes to your side. Your pulse is weak and your breathing is shallow. His breathing starts becoming erratic. He pulls out his phone. It's out of battery.

He peels off his jacket and drapes it around you. Following that, he lifts you up his back. He ignores the cuts and gashes that cry out with agony when he stands up. He piggy-backs you out of the abandoned warehouse and towards the nearest hospital.

Fuck this shit, he should have made sure his metaphorical shit-filled glasses rested securely on the bridge of his nose. Hell, he should have gotten goggles instead.

Anything mesmerising isn’t for him to keep.

His white shirt feels paper-thin today. He feels the fabric with your blood plaster onto his back.

He curses under his breath, “For fucks sake, [name]. You’re supposed to be a cockroach. If a meteorite didn’t wipe you out, this wouldn’t kill you.”

Sougo thinks he heard a weak hum in your chest.

“Stay with me, idiot. This is an order from the Captain of the 1st Division of the Shinsengumi.”

(You’re not even one of his men.)

Even with your face right beside his ear, he strains to hear your inhales and exhales. It’s hard to hear with his feet that drag themselves across the concrete.

“Is it that hard for you to stay? Did you have a death wish you told no one about?”

Unconsciously, he grits his teeth. Why did his phone have to run out of battery right at this crucial time? He should have charged it this morning. It’s your fault. It’s always because you charge it for him but you weren’t there to charge it this morning.

He feels like he’s clutching his sister’s hand beside her death bed again.

“Stay.”

It comes out like a whimper of an abandoned puppy. He hates how pathetic he sounds, but it doesn’t matter anymore. There’s no one left to listen to him. You’re slowly moving further from his grasp.

“I will.”

Your words almost get carried away by the wind. There’s a sudden push in the muscles of his legs and every part of him goes into overdrive.

He makes it to the hospital in time. You almost don’t make it, but you make it. By your bedside, his hands wish to hold yours. But there’s no urgency, no desperation for him to clutch onto your hand like he’s trying to keep your life in his grasp.

After that, he makes sure he puts on a pair of dirt-smeared glasses.

(Sometimes, when he’s feeling less of a coward, he’ll look at you through the gaps between the smears. Sometimes, he’ll remember you’re a cockroach and that you’ll show up yourself on the surface of his glasses.)

[Kamui]

Ever since you were kids, you have done everything for Kamui. Silently. So when he asked you to join the Harusame with him, you followed him without asking for anything in return.

There were many instances where you regretted joining the Harusame. But you’re thankful that you’re no longer looking out for Kamui alone. Housen mentored Kamui and you’re glad there’s someone much stronger than you he could approach. While you belong to the Yato clan too, you think (and deep down you know) that you’re no longer able to keep up with his strength. You stop sparring with him because a part of you screams that he’s going to toss you out of his squad for potentially losing to him. Due to there being other matters concerning Kamui that you have to attend to, you’re grateful that Abuto is there to clean up Kamui’s mess when you can’t.

You’re aware he has no interest in romance and he’s unlikely to ever look at you the same way you look at him. (And you look at him silently for it.) Even so, you think you can stay with him forever, status quo. It’s not as if you could find guys elsewhere because once you’re in the Harusame, there’s no way out. You can’t imagine being with all the other cluck-faced amantos in the Harusame either.

But it gives you some solace that he cares about you in some way. In the middle of wolfing down his meals, he’d stop abruptly and ask you if you’d like a bit of something he thought tasted good. He’d pull a piece of lint that’s clinging onto your hair. He even once brought back a squashed piece of manju (a poor bystander that suffered collateral damage from one of his fights) when you stayed behind to watch the ship during his visit to Yoshiwara.

He gave you the umbrella you use in fights now. He also gave you your first-ever umbrella.

You still keep it because he gave it to you. You still keep it because it was his first umbrella too. Now, it stands in the corner of your room, beside the much larger one you use now.

“Hey, why are you walking in the rain on your own?”

You sniffle, watching the vermillion-haired boy’s reflection from the puddles beneath you.

“I don’t have one. My parents left me and I have to keep my money for food.”

“Where did your parents go?”

You don’t answer him and you pick up your pace discreetly. He keeps up and continues to pester you, even making an off-handed comment on how rude you were to ignore him.

You keep your eyes fixed on the ground, unsure what the fuck is this kid’s problem. The adults barely even bat an eyelash at you when you needed them and this kid just tries to barge in to find out more about you.

Suddenly, the rain stops. No wait, it didn’t. You still see ripples on the puddles ahead of you and the sound of droplets hitting the ground. You look up to see Kamui stand close next to you, tilting the umbrella to favour your side.

“You can have mine then. But in return, you have to be my friend. Makes up for not answering my questions too.”

When you reach your door, he shoves the umbrella handle into your hand and sprints off into the downpour.

A few days later, he comes back to your place with a slight cough. He comes back again the next day. And the next…

The problem you have is that no one seems to be able to reign in his lust for battle. He doesn’t care for you enough to do that. He probably cares the same way a group member would care about another useful group member in the project.

(He still asks you why you keep that worn umbrella, especially when you’re no longer using it. You don’t tell him it’s the only gift from him that came from him when strength was not all that was in his head. It’s a gift from the Kamui who had space for both you and his ambitions in his heart.)

Abuto says that you’re their best bet in persuading him to learn how to pull the brakes, but you haven’t so far. It makes you want to launch yourself into space and run away from this godforsaken crime syndicate. When he returns to you with blood-soaked sleeves, you don’t know how much longer the dam of your tears will hold. You pray with your entire being, to whoever’s still listening to you, that they're all blood shed by the enemy before he undresses for you to treat him. You pray in silence.

Of course, some of it is blood shed by the enemy. But the bloom of red on one side of his shoulder is a gunshot with a bullet you have to pull out before it closes at godspeed. A crimson river flows down his forearm and you have to stitch his skin up.

Even after umpteen times, you still feel the heat in your cheeks when you examine his toned and refined body. But the cuts and splatters of dirty blood make your worry curl its witch-like fingers around your windpipe, making you forget about how he's shirtless.

Kamui says there’s no real need to patch him up. But even if he’s not hurting, you are. The Yato are meant to fight, but you wish for once, he’d stop throwing himself into battles as if nobody values his life.

You lock up all your lamenting and tuck it in the deepest corner of your mind. It’s not like he’ll value what you say to him. You continue to stick by his side as if there’s super glue between you two.

But even with time, super glue can be worn down. You feel something in your heart snap when he walks into your room with the head of a spear lodged in his back that he couldn’t pull out. That dumb smile still on his face. What the hell are his subordinates doing letting him walk around without removing it?

Ever since you were kids, you did everything for Kamui silently. You give him the last piece of manju you wanted for yourself without protest. You bandage up his cut-littered arms, holding back your tears when you think about the bullies so he wouldn’t hear your sobs. You spar with him after a long day, biting back whimpers when his wooden rod grazes against your skin.

But this time you tell him to fuck off. The smile on his face falls a little. In Kamui’s mind, you never swear. You make it a rule not to look at him until you’re out of his sight.

“You having a bad day?”

You ignore him, grabbing your shawl and draping it over your shoulders. He’s standing in the middle of the door, blocking your way. You shove him off with your shoulder and see him flinch at the corner of your eye. You dig your nails into your palm.

Kamui grabs your wrist with an iron grip.

“Where are you going?”

You try to pry your wrist out, but his grip tightens.

“I’m leaving the Harusame.”

There’s no delay in his question. “Why?”

“I’m done with you.”

Kamui clenches his jaw, trying to keep that grin plastered on his face. He tastes metal on his tongue. Your fingers find their way to your shirt and you crumple a portion in your fists. He chuckles with his mouth closed, the forced laugh thrumming about haphazardly in his chest. Instead of relieving the tension, he feels the echoes of his laugh suffocate him.

“Fight me. If you win, I’ll let you go.”

As you try to take a step forward, he jokes with a feigned spring in his voice, “It’s an order by the way. Can you believe I’m using my authority right now?”

You bite your lip to push down the lump in your throat, but the tears come flowing out anyway. He’s always talking about how your potential is wasted. You’re leaving and this is probably all he’s thinking about. Make full use of [name] before they go.

“Go ahead and kill me then. I’m done. I’m fucking done watching you waste yourself away on the battlefield. I’m done feeling like I’m the one who got stabbed when it’s you.”

You start to choke on your words and sob. In between sobs, you scream, “I’m sick of wondering when you’ll stop showing up to get yourself patched up.”

You heave and exhale, the frustration rendering you unable to form words for a while.

“I joined you because you asked, but you don’t even care about me because you can’t do the basic thing of taking care of yourself.”

(Oh, how he means the world to you, too. But you’re probably just a pawn in his whole scheme of getting strong. Silence still follows you here because you zip your mouth when the thought pops in your mind. Maybe silence is a curse because you wish you dared to say that.)

When you regain your composure, you say, “I’ll get executed by the Harusame for leaving anyway, so you can have the honour of killing me in a spar before they do.”

You think your bones are on the verge of cracking like your heart.

“You’re being fucking unfair, Kamui. Let go. I’ll fight you, that’s what you want, right?”

It’s one of the rare times Kamui stays silent. Should you be grateful you’ve witnessed him shut his mouth before your death or should you desire him to answer you? You throw your fist towards his face. He stops it with his palm, a loud boom reverberating.

“Stay.”

The word drops out of his mouth like a pin falling off a table. You almost miss it with the noise and the whirring of the engine that kept you up for many nights when you first joined. You almost miss it with how raspy his voice is. The word clinks against the ground and its echoes roar over the machinery in your ears. It holds your feet down like a boulder that you can’t kick off or lift. Unconsciously, his grip on your wrist loosens.

The other hand that blocked your fist holds onto your shoulder. His touch is still rough as if it only knows how to make someone keel over, but you can feel him hold his strength back.

You mutter, “How do you expect me to stay in this shithole when you don’t make it any better?”

You hear Kamui inhale as if he’s about to say something, but stops as he chokes on his words. He falls to the ground on his knees. You crouch down to his level and look him in the eye.

Whatever light that was left in his eyes is snuffed out. He’s dropped the pretentious smile he always wears and in its place, a bittersweet curl of his lips.

“You’re the only one left to protect.”

You don’t move for a moment, your mouth slightly parted.

The man in front of you is no longer the bloodthirsty captain of the 7th division. He’s the boy who sat by your side after yet another heavy downpour. The same boy staring into the distance (not even the horizon but instead into another rundown building) with dejected eyes, telling you he wishes he could have protected his sister from the bullies.

You slide your wrist out of his grip and he abruptly looks up, expecting you to walk away from him. Instead, you embrace him in a hug.

You whisper, “Will everything end when you reach the top of the world?”

Kamui’s arms circle your body tentatively. After much hesitation, his palm rests on your back while his arms go lax. He only nods, but it’s timid. You hover your fingers over his wounds on the back, over the wound with the spear.

“And when will that be?”

He doesn’t have an answer for you. He thinks of a couple of answers. When you guys rise to the top of the Harusame? When he defeats that silver-haired samurai down on Earth?

He doesn’t answer you.

Maybe you’re asking too much from him all at once. After all, you’ve never asked anything much from him before.

“Pick your fights, will you? The ones that are just slightly more challenging. This is the last time I’m pulling a spear out of your body.”

#okita sougo x reader #okita sougo imagines #kamui x reader #kamui imagines #okita sougo #kamui #gintama kamui #gintama x reader #gintama imagines #gintama writing #gintama #souglia.s #I cannot believe I wrote 2k for each of them #the word count was so unplanned #going to pass out for 12 hours now #and then try to do a single person party for sougo when I wake up

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leossmoonn · 2 years

Note

🩱 >:)

using this prompt: “we’re gonna survive this, right?” with either eddie or steve. maybe slight angst but more fluff than anything?

congratulations on your incredible milestone, sweetheart. ❤️

Imma do this with Steve hehe >:D

This is a long one my bad. I did pretty much half and half angst and fluff

“You’re late again!” you glare at Steve. He sighs, running clammy hands through his hair. “I-I’m sorry, okay? I had to work late and —”

“Yeah, I’ve heard it all before,” you roll your eyes.

Steve puts his hands on your hips and looks at you. You feel bad, but it’s how you genuinely feel. The last two days have been a shitshow. A very disappointing shitshow. You’re home for college and went back to Hawkins to visit your family and boyfriend, mainly your boyfriend since you both never get to talk, even when you’re away. He’s always busy with work and you’re always busy with school. Before you came back, you two haven’t spoken for literally three days. You two left each other voicemails, but that barley helped. You both thought that you being home would be better for you. Give you two a chance to reconnect, but that turned out to be a bunch of crap.

“Look, it’s not my fault that I didn’t into college but you did. I’m trying to work my ass off to pay for some of the tuition because believe it or not, I actually want a future!”

“I never said that Steve! Stop putting words in my mouth!”

“You don’t seem to have a problem to do that to me,” Steve scoffs.

“You didn’t even see the dinner I made for us?” you gesture to the kitchen table. “Did you even remember that today is our anniversary too?”

“Of course I remembered. Who do you think I am?”

“Honestly,” you sigh, “I have no idea.”

Your words cut him deep. You instantly feel bad. You know you shouldn’t have said that. It was crossing the line. Steve hasn’t changed, you two have just gotten busier. Quality time escaped you two and it was both of your faults, probably more yours than his since he’s always available to call and talk. “I-I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean to —”

“No, I’m sorry,” he shakes his head. “You’re right. All I have done since you got here is work. I’ve just left you alone to do whatever, when you came here to see me. I’m sorry.”

“No, Steve. Don’t apologize. You’re right. You need to make money, and it’s hard to find a good job here. I understand. I’m sorry for being insensitive,” you say.

You both stare at each other for a good five minutes. Both of you break into a smile simultaneously. You hold your hands out for Steve to grab. He trudges over to you, slipping his hand into yours and intertwining your fingers. He closes his eyes and pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. You bask in his warmth and loving gestures. You didn’t realize how much you had missed this, missed him. It seems like a lifetime since you two have even held hands, or even been this close to each other. “I missed you,” Steve sighs. “You have no idea how much I think about you. You’re on my mind every second of the day. In the morning, while I’m eating, when I’m in the shower, while I’m talking to customers, at night.”

“And what’re you doing thinking about me in the shower, huh?” you raise your brow. He chuckles, “lots of things.”

You wrap around arms around him and hug him, kissing his cheek multiple times, trailing down to his jaw and to his neck. You squeeze him tightly and hold him close, inhaling his cologne and signature hairspray that you’ll never get tired off smelling. His arms wrap around your body, pulling you flush against him. He loves the way your body mold with his. You were truly made for him, there’s no doubt in his mind. He kisses the top of your head, tracing up your body with his fingertips until his hand cups your face. He pulls away just enough to where he can look at you. You nuzzle into his palm, enjoying the warmth and comfort he brings.

“I missed you too, you know? Being 2,000 miles away is hard. So freaking hard,” you sigh.

Steve nods in agreement and looks into your eyes. “We’re going to survive this, right?”

Your brows knit together and your eyes soften. “Of course, baby. Of course. C’mon, you know us. We’re practically Mr. and Mrs. Harrington already. Nothing can stand in the way. Not even 2,000 miles.” He smiles in agreement. “Yeah, totally.”

You giggle a little bit, leaning up to kiss him. “That all you have to say? Yeah, totally?”

“I also have this,” he says before he kisses you. You never thought you would ever feel so relieved to kiss anyone before. His lips are soft, familiar, like home. The way they caress yours ignites a spark inside your belly, warmth filling between your thighs. You run your fingers through his hair, bringing him impossibly closer. He holds your waist, dipping you backwards slightly to deepen the kiss. He kisses you slowly and passionately, making sure you can feel every movement of his lips against yours. You pull away slightly, resting your forehead on his and staring into his eyes. “Why don’t you show me all those things that you think about in the shower?”Steve’s eyes brighten and he nods, an excited smile on his face. He looks as if he won a prize. Without saying anything, he lifts you up, taking you to your bedroom. You both spend the night reconnecting, in more ways than one.

#bro this #liek #word vomit #lmfao #sara’s 4k pool party #leossmoonn 4k pool party #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader

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alienaiver · 1 year

Text

Chapter 2: inches

Chapter summary: Becoming the crown has not been easy - you’re not sure how far you’d gotten without Sugawara’s grounding support. You’re no closer to solving your father’s assassination than before and it’s wearing on you - until an endlessly kind but loud visitor reveals information that might be useful in your search for answers.

Warnings for this chapter: the mentions of parental death is still a theme and there’s some behavior that definitely does not scream self-care (not taking care of yourself)

Wordcount: 7.9k

Chapter content: fluff, sfw, fantasy AU, royalty AU, mild angst, genderneutral reader (so neutral that both men and women can also insert themselves), poc and bodytype! friendly reader, no use of y/n, intense use of ‘your majesty’ is still very much a thing, theyre very soft your honor

notes: heres chapter 2!!! so far this is personally my favorite but we’ll see if i change my mind when i finish the final chapter! i also think this chapter is far less stunted in the medieval/fantasy-inspired language use which im very proud of! its very fun to see the improvements! thank you again for reading and for all your kind comments on the previous chapter! feel free to crucify me for being seven (7) minutes late posting this, since my cat sat on my pc and made me drop my pc to the ground OwO kdjskdskf

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” It’s common for the advisor’s study to be near the crown.” You tell Sugawara as he browses his bookshelf for a certain document. He hopes you don’t see the wince he tries to refrain from doing in your presence. It’s a subject he’s been avoiding – the tower where his study lies is inconvenient at best and inaccessible at worst. Asking the crown of the kingdom to climb the winding staircase each time they want something from him seems excessive – which is exactly why it’s common for the advisor to be close to the royal quarters.

But Sugawara’s attached. This is his domain, his corner of the castle that he’s turned into his own castle. The stained-glass windows that light the desk just right in the afternoon sun and the way his tea is the perfect temperature at arrival after he has carried it freshly brewed from the kitchens locks him into place. He’ll do whatever you ask of course, but he was hoping you wouldn’t.

“Would your majesty like me closer?” he asks as he drags his pointer across files, searching for the one containing information about climate crisis laws. He hears you suck in your teeth and he has to bite his own lip at the mental image of you he has right now, you’re cute when you’re frustrated. “I often find you here, roaming, existing. Would you like to stay?” you counter him with another – unexpected – question and he finds himself biting his cheek. “I shall be where you want me, your majesty.”

He hears you flop down and is not at all surprised at the position you’ve situated yourself in on the armchair when he turns back around. Only around him do you allow yourself to sit in such improper positions, but he doesn’t seem to mind – feels lucky that you trust him so. You sigh and blow out air dramatically, puffing up your cheeks. He smiles gently at you, “I did not intend to offend, your majesty. I only meant to serve.”

You huff and look away, your arms crossed over your chest before you bite out, “and yet you avoid answering my question.”

Sugawara sighs and leans against his desk with his palms on the edge. He looks at you, “it’s inconvenient and-“

“For whom?”

He raises his eyebrows at you as you interrupt him and you elaborate, “for whom is this inconvenient? It is a very lovely space you’ve carved for yourself over the years. I would like my advisor to be comfortable as well, not just correct and proper to old customs.”

Sugawara’s been your advisor for little more than a month now, but nothing takes him more back than when you go against the customs or traditions to make him feel at ease or like he matters. He doesn’t feel worthy of such accommodations, yet you continue to throw them at him. He has to lift a hand to hide his laugh behind a palm, taken aback once again by your almost childish yet considerate and mature way of behaving.

You snicker, a triumphant smile on your lips as you straighten your back, “it’s settled then. This will be the official quarters of the royal advisor and official business not directly related to the court shall be conducted here from here on out.”

“Eh?” is all Sugawara is able to get out, eyes wide and eyebrows shot up to his hairline. You laugh and dismiss his confusion with a shake of your lifted hand, “it’s fine, Sugawara. I can see that you’re comfortable here and I’d hate to take it from you. I am serving you as much as you are serving me.”

He doesn’t agree with that sentence but he also knows when to argue with the crown.

“Well, thank you, your majesty.” He bows at you and you nod back, “it is my pleasure.”

Your coronation went well and you’ve been the official ruler of the kingdom for four weeks. You’ve been doing a wonderful job, even if you’re sometimes fickle. He can schedule a meeting with a petitioner on Wednesday that he knows you’re aware of but suddenly you’re sword-training with the Royal Guard or riding into town on an errand for the kitchen, even if it’s never been your job to begin with. He’s had a hard time explaining to you how the errand boys rely on tasks like that for some loose coins but all you end up doing is paying the errand boy for letting you do it.

You remind Sugawara too much of your father and as much as he likes that side of you personally? It’s a nightmare professionally.

Okay, nightmare might be a stretch if he’s being honest because you feel so alive. While you have a habit of neglecting some responsibilities, you are building wonderful and deep relations to the people of your country, working up an image of a reliable and down-to-earth crown – which is needed, after the tragedy of your father’s death. It took a stronger toll on the people that any had imagined, so seeing you uplifting your kingdom is both refreshing and healing.

So he doesn’t say much to you about it. Observes you quietly from the entrance of the gardens, watching you plant seedlings with the maidens and blushing as you spar with none other than Sawamura, overthrowing him with a sword to his neck, triumphant smile on your lips. He’s embarrassed to admit that he wishes it was him, the compromising pose of your win stirring thoughts of what your lips currently look like – and how they’d feel.

///

“There’re not many leads to go on, anymore. The trail ends at Kotohira, the border town near the assassination site.” Sugawara scratches his head, frustrated as he looks at the map you’ve made together. You’ve written down any leads, notes and reports and sorted through them, trying to decipher where there might be a leak you can latch onto, but nothing seems to give.

You sigh as you pull off barbs from your quill one by one and ignore Sugawara when he scoldingly shrieks out a “your majesty!” explaining how that quill was a present from Prince Oikawa of the neighboring kingdom, Seijoh. You groan and throw your head back as you drop the quill on the desk, “he’ll survive, I suppose. I believe he might be more ticked off that I didn’t respond to his condolences letter.”

Sugawara sighs and relaxes his shoulders with a kind smile, “he’s your friend, your majesty. I doubt he’s any more ticked off than worried about you.”

With a guilty expression you sigh and nod, picking at the puffed sleeve of your shirt. The velvet of your vest is hugging you nicely and the color makes your shine all the more obvious. Sugawara smiles, “I’m aware of how frustrating this is, but I assure you, your majesty, that we are doing everything possible to solve this. And hey,” he nears you and places a hand on the desk in front of you, still not daring to touch you directly, “we’ve gotten farther than I imagined we’d be able to. I’m sure more will come up when Daichi returns from his scouting.”

And he’s right, you know this. But the time you’ve been spending in this stuffed map room has started to suffocate you and set roots up through your spine. Grief doesn’t come to you easily and while the tears have made their way through you a couple of times, it still doesn’t feel real that he’s gone yet - only unfair.

You suppose that is a feeling of loss, too. You wish it was less frustrating to lose someone.

Sugawara retreats from his position over the desk and straightens his back once again to become cross-eyed looking at the gathered information. With a clearing of his throat he once again goes over the economic distributions of the Hiashi region, specifically the two villages he was assassinated in between, unable to find the faults that he’d like. After the drought, the crown spent an adequate amount of time – if not more than advised – helping rebuild. Both with a physical presence during the crisis but the monetary value sent their way wasn’t anything to scoff at either so Sugawara finds it hard to establish the connections he wants with the location of the assassination. There’s not much else to do but wait for Sawamura to return with – hopefully – new intel.

There aren’t many people involved. Besides you and Sugawara, only Shimizu, Sawamura and Azumane has been entrusted with the entirety of the investigation. With a shorter leash and fewer intel, a few guards under Sawamura have been entrusted to support the scouting missions.

A knock on the open door is heard and you both turn your heads to see Yachi, Shimizu’s apprentice and – to Sugawara’s knowledge, lover – stand with a tray of teas. She timidly smiles and bows, “I come with afternoon tea. I-I’ve been looking for you in several locations, so I apologize for being sweaty!” she hastily says but immediately freezes after letting out the embarrassing phrase. You smile gently and beckon her closer, “thank you for going to such trouble for me, Yachi. That is very kind of you.”

Yachi smiles tersely before she enters on your demand, “I apologize if the tea is only lukewarm now, your majesty. I will happily fetch a new pot for you if needed!”

You chuckle and shake your head as you help Yachi prepare the cups, “I’m like my father in this regard, I prefer it lukewarm.” You wink at Yachi as if imposing on her a little secret, and the blush on her face is satisfying to watch. Whether it’s because the matron’s apprentice thinks you’re beautiful or simply because you’re her majesty, you’ll never know, but she’s adorable, nonetheless. Sugawara shakes his head at your behavior as he tries to take over from you. Yachi has started pouring the tea with skillful calmness and you lean back on the chair you’re situated in. “Oh! Your majesty!” she suddenly exclaims halfway through pouring the second cup, seemingly remembering a very important detail. You perk up at both the sound of your title but also the sudden loud voice she used. You nod and she sheepishly bows and apologizes for yelling in your presence. You dismiss her with a smile and she straightens her back, “a runner arrived a few short moments before I was sent here, so the matron told me to deliver the news. Emperor Bokuto is on his way from Fukurodani and will arrive within the next week.”

That perks both you and Sugawara up. No scheduled visits from anyone are in your radar for at least another month – not to mention the annual visit between the two kingdoms was completed by your father. Yachi bows and grabs the tray, “well then, I’ll return to the kitchens. Emperor Bokuto’s runner will be in the servant’s kitchens for a few more hours, I believe. Then we’ll instate him in the west quarters, if that’s to your liking for the Fukurodani Empire to rest when they arrive?”

You’re barely out of the stupor from the news, so you mindlessly dismiss her with a wave, agreeing without really knowing what you’re agreeing to. Sugawara takes over and politely thanks Yachi as he follows her to the door, telling her to say hi from Shimizu from him. As he closes the door after Yachi’s departure, he also steals a glance your way. Your underlip is worried between your teeth and your eyes look far away, like you’re not even in the room. Your body is lounged on the chair, but there’s no denying how tense you look, any care for pretenses thrown away. You’re worried.

It was early and quickly determined that the assassination of your father had nothing to do with Fukurodani – or any other empire for the matter, thanks to the few survivors. The attacker’s dialects were all from Karasuno and the few attackers that passed away or didn’t make it out was confirmed to be locals from the region in which the former crown was killed.

Early in your investigation, there was suspicions of hired contractors but it seemed highly unlikely to be the neighboring empire of which you were on such good standings with. Sugawara sighs theatrically as to call you back to the room, and you react as he expected by returning your gaze to him, “do you think…?” is all you seem to be able to get out.

Sugawara shakes his head and smiles kindly at you, walking back to his prior position on the stool next to the wall where he crosses his legs and furrows his brows, “hardly, your majesty. The relationship between us has never been better or more profitable than now. Fukurodani would do themselves a disservice to cut such a tie.”

You nod, about to zone out again so Sugawara continues, “however, I believe that Emperor Bokuto might fear that our thoughts lie there. He might just seek to rectify any misgivings.”

You smile and reach for your tea, “possibly. I guess he wouldn’t announce his arrival either if he planned for unfriendliness.”

Sugawara agrees. As he’s about to get up to reach for his teacup too, you hurry to reach for it and stretch out your arm towards him, “I hope you enjoy lukewarm tea too, I apologize I didn’t ask before I told Yachi not to fetch fresh water.” You grimace out your apology and Sugawara can’t help but feel butterflies flutter around his organs at your thoughtfulness and at the face you’re making. He gets light-headed just from knowing that he’ll probably be the only one close enough to see such reactions from you. When he reaches for his teacup in your hands, his fingers brushes yours and in a moment of electrifying excitement, you drop the teacup and you’re both brought back to reality by the sound of the fragile ceramic cup break into a thousand fragments, tea spilling onto both of your garments.

For a moment there’s complete silence as both your gazes are turned downwards to the mess you’ve made. No one moves until the door is abruptly forced open (it wasn’t locked, they had no such need to be this aggressive) as two guards come in, frantically calling for you. “Your majesty, are you alright!? We heard…!” A guardsman under Sawamura, looks at the scene before him and immediately relaxes his stance, even if he still looks tense. His partner, a smaller one with bright orange hair, does as well and laughs, “I’m so glad you’re safe your majesty!” he exclaims and you look up at the two guards in confusion.

They both hurry to straighten their backs, “we were walking past the room when we heard the crash!” the taller one explains and you nod, confusion still obvious on your face, not oblivious to the orange one’s starstruck facial expression towards you either. Sugawara tuts at them, “you can hardly call a teacup being dropped a crash. Also, you two,” Sugawara sends them a look that makes both of them tense up and the scene before you feel almost comical, “weren’t you supposed to be scouting with Daichi today?”

The small one hitches his breath and the dark-haired one looks directly at Sugawara flatly, “he told us to protect the crown instead… sir.”

Ah, Sugawara gets it now. While Sawamura always takes good care of his subordinates – and enjoys training them – these two has caused him more than enough trouble already. He probably took Tanaka and Nishinoya with him instead for the sake of the secrecy.

You start laughing as you get up and bow to the two knights in front of you, “thank you for your continuous hard work.”

Sugawara’s about to scold you for making fun of two freshly picked guards, but the way their eyes light up at your praise makes him realize that they might not be completely in on your teasing. They introduce themselves to you with straight backs and a pitch in their voices as Kageyama and Hinata. You salute them and introduce yourself as well as if they wouldn’t know your name. Sugawara shakes his head at your antics and you smile gently at the two as you put a palm up to your face to block Sugawara’s line of sight to your mouth, “I do need another protection from the two of you!” and they lean in excitedly, ready to partake any quest given by their crown. You lean in as well and in a whisper-voice tell them, “I need a new teacup for my advisor. You see, if he lacks tea, he will mercilessly make me recite laws I have yet to remember. Is there a possibility that you can call for a maid and bring about a new cup from the kitchens?”

The determination in their eyes is flawless, surprising Sugawara as well. They bow to you before they salute you, “we will return shortly, your majesty!” before they start bickering about who should exit the door first.

As they leave the room – with the door unclosed – you can hear their voices ricochet in the hallway, “did you see that, Kageyama! They spoke to me! I got to meet the crown before that stupid Tsukishima!”

You let out a chuckle, “new recruits?” you ask and Sugawara nods, “yeah. I heard they’ve been troublemakers for Daichi though.”

It makes you snort, “I can’t imagine how.”

///

The days up until Bokuto’s arrival passes in a blur. Official visits from other royal entities are usually meticulously planned from every angle. Firstly, their sleeping quarters need to be of a certain standard before arrival, meals and their related purchasing and planning are done a great deal beforehand to ensure highest quality of product, entertainers and minstrels are usually called in before arrival and settled in while the royal host’s schedule is altered so their time spent with the guests are adequate and satisfactory. Sugawara hasn’t known such busy days in the name of chaos before.

Sure, his workload is usually time consuming and all-encompassing to his usual duties, but the stressful chaos in organizing all of these factors with every part of the staff drains him.

He also never really saw himself as an organizer of that sort. That was more in line with Azumane and the head servants.

Sugawara’s in his study, reading up on the agreements made between the two kingdoms. He knows them by heart – but he refuses to misspeak if any of the terms come up in front of neither you nor Bokuto himself. He’s by the bookshelf, biting the inside of his cheek mindlessly as he tries to go through his own crow’s feet of notes to make sense of them. For reasons unknown to him, you’re here as well. He’d imagined you’d be busy with fittings, but you dodge his questions when he prompts them. Your quirky behavior does not always make much sense to him, so he simply lets you stay.

“There was talk of Bokuto’s arrival later today,” you say and Sugawara merely entertains you with a hum. You sigh exasperatedly, moving around in his chair to try and gain his attention. He humors you with no such thing. “The maids are all aghast and giggling through the halls. They’re swooning every time someone mentions his name.” you peer up at Sugawara but another indifferent hum leaves him, merely to mark that he seems to notice you finished your sentence.

“Well, Emperor Bokuto is quite handsome, isn’t he?” you try, doodling random constellations down onto the parchment in front of you on Sugawara’s desk. Sugawara keeps himself from visibly frowning as he stares harder at his own scroll, “his head’s full of white and gray hair,” is the first argument that comes to him, “and he’s so full of himself.”

Before Sugawara has even realized you’ve gotten up, a hair is plucked from his head and you fall back down onto your (his) chair in a relaxed pose not befitting the crown at all, spinning the strand of his hair between your fingers, studying it, “so are yours and that’s also fairly handsome, isn’t it?”

He straightens his back and wills his blush down. Through many years of training as the royal advisor’s apprentice, he’s become good at keeping his face neutral as to not let any information slip in unfavorable situations. However, Sugawara has a weakness and you have a feeling that he might not even be aware he’s suffering from such, but his ears have a habit of showing plainly what his face skillfully hides to the public – the flushed red of them seamlessly revealing the true emotion he’s suppressing.

You pretend to study the strand with more intensity as you keep him in your peripheral vision. You almost feel bad for him. A smile plays itself unto your lips upon seeing him flustered like this.

Sugawara clears his throat and you think his annoyance can be tasted in the air, “your majesty, am I correct to consider this teasing? If so, I would like you to refrain from such on a day as today.” He tries and you sit up properly, nodding at him with a salute. He sends you an unimpressed glare before turning his gaze back to his papers, “you’re hiding, aren’t you.”

It’s not a question, but a statement.

You look pointedly at the table, deciding to study every crevice and vein of the wooden desk. You hear him sigh as he turns his entire body towards you, making a point out of dumping his papers on the corner of the desk. “Your majesty, your competence as a leader is not measured simply in battle strategies or economics, you’re aware of that, aren’t you?”

You nod and like a child, keep your eyes downward. You’re well aware that being overwhelmed by something as simple as festive arrangements will be talk between the servants – and inevitably their families, and their families and then the chain continues. You can’t keep letting Azumane stand with all of the arrangements.

But how are you supposed to know what color curtain is appropriate for royalty? This part of the crown’s weight came easily to your father as well, and a pang of longing hits you. You wish he was here to tell you which colors would absolutely offend Emperor Bokuto and which wouldn’t.

Sugawara squats down to be in the height of the table as he tries to catch your gaze. When he succeeds, you’re blindsided by the absolute kindness emanating from him and his bright eyes. You hitch a breath and feel locked in place, like by a spell.

And there it is again; the smile you’ve come to love so greatly. It’s warm, like the sun and all-encompassing, like a hug. The ones where you’re being squeezed just the perfect amount. He quietly clears his throat as if warning you that he’s about to use his soothing voice, “I know how overwhelming this is, your majesty. I believe it’s a very natural reaction to absurd circumstances. I don’t believe that we’ve had to – at any point in history – prepare for royal visits on such a short notice as this,” Sugawara reaches out for the first time during his supportive speeches to you and touches your hand. You can’t help but notice how warm and soft they are – how they compliment yours. He seems to ignore the way you flinch ever so slightly, “I believe in you.”

The words are so sincere and you can feel his encouraging energy come off of him in waves as he holds your gaze for a moment longer. Against your will you break the eye contact in favor of your heart’s longing to look at his lips. They look soft and inviting. Subconsciously, you lick your own lips and don’t notice the way Sugawara’s ears again flushes red.

You shake yourself out of your stupor before you hope Sugawara notices and straighten your back, “thank you, Sugawara. Your confidence has given me confidence.”

He hurries back up from his crouched position and clears his throat as he corrects his cravat, “that’s what I’m here for, your majesty. I would not support you if I did not believe you’d succeed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some reading to do.” As he finished his sentence he also sends you a pointed look that tells you, with no room for argument, that you have some work to do as well.

///

You’re standing by the grand entrance to the Karasu Keep in an over-glamoured robe, your jewelry carefully picked by Azumane. There’s the Moonstone, gifted to you by Emperor Bokuto himself, as well as the ring his late mother had picked out for you as well, once you’d joined your father on his visits. Your pants are uncomfortably tight on your midsection and Azumane’s frustration about the length still lingers in you – he’s skillfully hidden the surplus of fabric in the brown leather boots you’re standing in, balancing on your heels as you wait for Bokuto’s arrival. Next to you, Sugawara stands in his robe too, sending you a careful smile.

Sawamura and his finest men are by the vestibule, ready to salute Bokuto with raised swords as he in very few moments will arrive. It’s been quite some years since you last met Bokuto and while nervousness doesn’t exactly explain how you’re feeling, there is tension in your shoulders.

Bokuto’s close to you in age and eight years ago when the original negotiations proceeded there had been brief talk of the two of you marrying to unite the kingdoms. Being momentarily betrothed – however short – still made your heart race even if it was all disregarded right after the talk had been on the table.

You’re ripped out of your thoughts when the sound of a horse’s hooves rounds the courtyard in rapid succession, signaling a horse in gallop. There’s whisper behind you but you’re not surprised as Bokuto rides in, all pride and fun, riding a round and sending his killer smile to the maids ready to receive him and his men. You might even witness him send a wink or two to the poor stable boys throwing him heart-eyed glances as they observe his proper riding posture as he yells out a greeting to everyone, “hey hey hey!”

As he nears you, he slows down his horse and pats its neck, keeping eye contact with you. The horse quiets down and the stable boys stand ready to receive the noble mount. Bokuto lets out an airy laugh as he greets you on his way down, “there’s no better place to ride with the wind than here in Karasuno. The wilderness and mountains perfectly help the experience!” he says, dragging a hand through his face and up through his hair before he gives you a hug. It’s a bear-hug, one you wouldn’t ever have initiated yourself with someone you’ve met so few times. But that’s also what you like about Bokuto, you think. When he pulls back he also lowers himself into a bow before reaching for your hand and giving it a kiss, “I am pleased to meet the new crown of Karasuno Kingdom. I’m so sorry for the loss of your father. He was truly a great man and crown.”

The officiality of his demeanor surprises you but you find a warm smile emanating from your face at his consideration. You nod back at him and offer your first words since he came in as a whirlwind, “thank you for your kind words, Emperor Bokuto. I am pleased to welcome you to the kingdom.”

He snickers as he levels you down, seemingly approving your behavior, “I’ve had a tedious journey, but not too long that I shall decline a wine and a talk. My men will arrive in moments with offerings and need for rest.”

You nod and raise your arm to point the attention on the servants, chamberlains and stable hands standing at the ready, “they’re all ready to accommodate any and all of your demands during your stay. Rooms have been prepared as well as hot food. You can rest easy that your men will be treated as they should.”

He nods and drags you by the shoulders, “let us go and talk, the two of us then. My fiancé shall arrive with the remaining entourage but he stopped to have a look at the local town first. I, however, was impatient.”

You throw your head back in a laugh, “I see that,” you turn your head to Sugawara and motion for him to follow you, “my advisor shall be joining us though I assure he will be no nuisance.” Sugawara trails behind you towards the courtroom where afternoon tea and refreshments has been put out as Bokuto loudly talks of his experiences with the locals on his journey.

Bokuto clears his throat after tasting the wine and says your name in a manner that makes your shoulders tense for a moment. Then, he continues, “I am truly sorry for your loss. Your father was in no worthy measure I can articulate, meant to be crown. He both inspired and guided me when I ascended the throne just a few years back. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the burial.”

You dismiss Bokuto with a kind smile that you hope exudes forgiveness, “I know he was in your thoughts so there is no need to apologize. I’m glad he was of such importance to you and your kingdom.”

Sugawara’s sure that Bokuto haven’t seen it, but he saw the clear shift in you at the mention of your father. Sugawara’s been by your side almost as much as Azumane has since his inauguration and he’s well aware of how stunted your grief process currently is. Grief is erratic, hard to predict but easy to push aside in favor of more manageable tasks – and you’ve had no shortages in such as the new leader of an entire kingdom. The conversation stays on your father and his deeds for a while longer until Bokuto steer them towards a heavier subject. After confirming that there’s no suspicion towards the Fukurodani Empire, Bokuto sighs a sigh of relief and hardens his eyes to start a new subject. One where Bokuto sends Sugawara a wary look, clearly contemplating whether or not he should open his mouth in front of him.

With your sharp eye, you notice this and turn your head toward him as well, “Sugawara is my most trusted ally in every aspect of both my life and work. You need not hold your breath in his presence.”

Bokuto nods at that and clears his throat, “your majesty, suspicious rumors met my ears on my travels to the kingdom. I originally journeyed to show my condolences but also to make sure our relationship did not change. Of course, I also wanted to welcome you into your role as leader and show my support of you,” he takes a sip of his wine as you nod, “through your lands I rested at inns and taverns. I enjoyed riding ahead, announcing that the emperor of Fukurodani was to arrive soon and book the rooms ahead of their coming,” he laughs at this and you think that it’s very like him to do so. After all, he does like to meet the people in a genuine fashion – especially in a country where his face isn’t necessarily known. You bet that he’s been relishing in such new kinds of attention.

“But in traveling like this, I also heard the tavern talk of genuine people. And through the duchy neighboring our borders was the first sign of brewing trouble.”

He sends you a hard gaze, “your majesty, while I’m aware you’re very new on the throne and may not have gone through all aspects of your new profession, I have a question pertaining to the economics shared between duchies.”

You raise your brows at the way he chose to phrase it but turn to Sugawara who clears his throat, “we have been looking back six years on the duchies near the assassination site.”

You nod, “exactly. Is there anything amiss in the people of my duchy?”

Bokuto crosses his arms and seem to be in deep thought, a pout forming. “There seems to be a general consensus that they’ve been cheated in the Hiashi duchy. Could it be my speech?” he seems to think the last part out loud before he deflates, “maybe I misunderstood? I do consider myself fluent in your language though.” You reach a supporting hand to his arm, “and you are, Bokuto. Can I ask you to explain in more thorough detail?”

He seems to puff up again at your praise and you hold back a snort. His heart really is on his sleeve. He continues on then, “there’s bitterness brewing towards the former crown – that he stole from them during their worst time. I remember a drought one year, isn’t that so?”

You nod at his question, “yes. My father journeyed there himself to help with emergency aid of the land and people,” you turn to Sugawara to confirm what you’re saying next, “we also lowered that specific duchy’s tax with 12 percent and have sent financial aid every year since.” Sugawara nods approvingly and you turn back to Bokuto, “I am uncertain how this lines up with such rumors.”

Bokuto winces and sucks in his teeth, “something has definitely been up. However, as soon as my entourage arrived, any and all such talks zipped. In the late hours of my night alone in a local tavern, I heard a group of men cheering to your coronation but in a mocking manner. They started whispering after that, so while I wish I could feed you more information, this is unfortunately all I have. I apologize if I have opened some unpleasant doors and that I can’t provide more.”

You nod and stare at the fruits on the table in front of you, unsure how to properly process this new information. None of this has been coming up in your investigations and your worst fears seems to be battling for your mind right now. Sugawara gets up from his stool on your right side to bow to Bokuto, “thank you, your majesty, for all of your knowledge provided. As you suspect, we’ve had investigations going on and this is vital new information for us to work with. I apologize on behalf of our crown as the grief of their fath-“ Bokuto dismisses Sugawara’s apology, “grief needs time and becoming a crown amidst all of that gives no space to do so. There is no reason to apologize for this.” You turn to Bokuto with a grateful smile and he pats your shoulder in support, “I do not intend for my entire visit to be gloom and doom. I just felt this information was important to deliver as fast as I was able. I will go to my room to freshen up before dinner. I suggest that you do the same.” He gives you a warm smile with shining eyes and you hug him as a thank you. You’re glad for the allies you’ve gotten and you have a feeling he knows more of what you’re going through than most. “I also cannot wait to introduce you to my fiancé.” he says, his eyes turning into heart shapes, his cheeks flushing a deep red. A big warm smile comes onto your face as well, “yes and congratulations with that! I do apologize a letter of congratulate wasn’t delivered but the Seven days of Mourning was proceeding when we heard the news!

Bokuto shakes his head with a smile, “you need to stop apologizing. I am looking forward to introducing the two of you. Care to show me to my room?” he holds out his arm so you can link yours to him.

Sugawara’s walking behind the two of you as your talk turns less official and more casual. He can’t say he’s ever been jealous of royalty, knowing what a pain it can be to be forced on a pedestal whether or not you’re interested but for the first time, a seedling is growing within his organs, cursing his bloodline for making him a commoner. If only he could converse with you in moods so casual, pat your shoulder or tousle your hair in a manner without having to worry about status. He’s well-aware of his position. He knows his feelings are arrogant and that being in love with the crown of his kingdom is an unobtainable dream in any scenario. He’s always been happy just supporting you, being there for you, but seeing you with other people of the same status – who gets the privilege to treat you like a human being like he’s craving to, to ignore status and titles and jobs and hug you whenever he sees the tell-tale signs of grief pushing you to your knees. Sugawara sucks in his teeth as he decides to swallow the bile growing in his throat and get it together again.

Bokuto takes your hands in his and give them a reassuring squeeze, “do not take the stories too deep to heart, my friend. More stories throughout your land was heard as well, and I promise that you’re held in high regard.”

Barely a second passes from the moment Bokuto’s left your side before your mask instantly melts off of your face and the worry lines appear, your underlip worried between your teeth, gaze far away like you’re not even the room while your brows are furrowed. Sugawara winces before he’s able to figure out how to get you back without touching you. The moment before he’s about to reach out to your arm, you seem to come back and shake your head as if to restart your brain and start walking down the hallway. Sugawara follows you and notices the way your hands are linked behind your back. Your current gait mirrors the way your father used to walk through the halls of the keep.

Sugawara expects you to return to your chambers, maybe wash up before you have to be refitted into the evening attire. The banquet tonight will be held to welcome Bokuto and it will surely be tiring. But you take a turn to the left through the halls instead of right to your chambers and he knows where you plan to go. He hurries his pace so he can overturn you and stand in front of you, effectively blocking your path.

“Your majesty,” he says sternly, unsure if he’s allowed to scold you in this matter. The intel that Bokuto provided is important for your stealth investigation so he understands your need to put it together with the knowledge already provided but you look exhausted.

Hurt, too.

You simply look at him, your gaze hardened and empty, emotion barren from your expression. He doesn’t budge though, as he continues, “I advise rest. I will happily write down the information and plot it into our system if you promise me to rest, your majesty.”

You almost pout but not entirely. Then, you deflate as your arms falls to your sides.

“I can’t sleep.”

Sugawara smiles, “I know it’s afternoon but maybe lying down will still do you good, your majesty.”

“No, Sugawara, I can’t sleep.” You give him a glare but there’s no bite behind it, just hope that he’ll understand what you mean. His mouth turns into an ‘o’ shape, “has this been a prior issue?”

You nod, “yeah. Sleep eludes me when I’m stressed. Asahi usually makes it easier but he’s busy.”

Makes it easier? Azumane? Sugawara swallows whatever impure thought comes into his mind before he asks, “what else will help?”

You pointedly avoid his gaze as you start to fiddle with the fabric of your pants, lip worried between your teeth. “Asahi usually holds my hand and caresses it. It’s childish, but he reads me stories too. Distracts my mind.”

Sugawara’s mind goes into overdrive. What exactly are you implying? Surely he can call a maid to help you with this, maybe someone you already trust that Azumane also trusts to do the job. He starts racking his brain about a possible candidate to do this with you. Maybe he should call on the doctor, Ennoshita? He knows you trust him after you’d gotten into an accident with a wild mare last year and he’d helped you recover. He might have some medicine. Ah, but you also shouldn’t be completely knocked out before the dinner tonight.

“Sugawara.” You say and he’s pulled back to the right now and looks at you. You seem flustered as you look anywhere but directly at him, “I’ll gladly retract my request if I am overstepping but… with my father’s untimely death I fear that I trust very few in the kingdom as of this moment. Would you…” you take in a deep breath and hold it for a few moments before you exhale slowly, “…would you mind… accompanying me to my sleeping chambers?”

Sugawara’s brain stops functioning for a moment. Without intending to he’s simply staring at you with eyes wide, mouth hanging open at the question you just asked him. It feels obscene. In all of his weeks with you he’s never been inside of your sleeping chambers – the closest he’s been is your drawing room where you’ve occasionally eaten breakfast as he prepared you for the day. Even in that room he feels like he’s overstepping, not belonging in a room such as yours. So to think that you just asked him to go in further is incomprehensible. It’s like his brain is unable to process the situation he’s suddenly put in.

“Sugawara, you are my advisor but you are also my friend. I will not hold it against you if you decline. Your comfort is equally important.”

Oh no, you think he doesn’t want to. You think you’ve made him uncomfortable – he needs to say something right away.

You stare at him for a moment more, unsure if he’s even alright before he suddenly inhales sharply after subconsciously holding his breath.

“Ah,” is all he gets out as a start and then sheepishly laugh and scratch his neck, “I’m so sorry your majesty, it seems my head took a short break. But if it helps my crown rest, I will go to the ends of the earth.”

“So you’re not uncomfortable?” you ask to make sure and Sugawara feels his cheeks heat up at your concern. He smiles warmly at you, “not at all, your majesty. You have my word.”

Your sleeping chambers are decorated with all kinds of trinkets and items and Sugawara’s eyes have a hard time finding an anchoring point. There’s paintings and books lining every flat surface as well as small hobby items – of course, he cannot ignore the sword either, hanging haphazardly from the bed alcove’s hook. It’s one of the royal family heirlooms and your father bestowed it to you the day you became the Crown-in-Waiting. He’s only seen you spar with it a handful of times in the past but recently you’ve gotten a habit of picking it up more often.

He's not entirely sure what it means.

The servant from your drawing room excuses herself as you place yourself in the middle of the bed, getting comfortable under your silken covers. Sugawara stands awkwardly next to the end of the bed until you clear your throat, “there’s a stool over there you can bring over.” And then you settle closer to the edge of the bed, on your side so that you face Sugawara. He does as he’s told and sits himself next to your head where you reach out your hand with a timid smile, “it’s okay if you’d rather just… tell stories.” You say with your brows slightly furrowed, clearly trying to hide what you think will be imminent disappointment. Sugawara smiles and tries to confidently grab your hand so he can start running his fingers back and forth on your palm. He decides to not comment on the small yelp you let out at the moment of contact.

“Is there a certain story you’d like to hear, your majesty?” he keeps his focus on your hand, on the veins, the way your joints bend and contract with every movement he makes them do, your hand limb in what he hopes is gentle care. You don’t complain as you sigh out in contemplation, “your childhood. What was it like?”

Sugawara doesn’t even notice how his hand had stopped moving or how his head had raised itself to look at you at your sudden question. You wince, “sorry, shall I leave that subject be?”

He regains his composure and refocuses his effort back to your hand with a smile, “it’s alright your majesty, I was just taken aback is all.”

He thinks about his childhood, how his life has a distinct before and after. The distinction usually were the before and after coming to Karasu Keep but he’s realized there’s a new line in the sand.

Before and after meeting you.

He shakes his head with a small smile and opens his mouth, “my childhood’s common, for this kingdom. I grew up by the northern duchies, in Hakone, tending to rice fields with my grandparents.”

He tells you of his parents, of his little brother and how he and his childhood friend dreamt of more. “There had to be more for us out there, that’s what we kept telling ourselves.” He laughs as he reminisces all the shenanigans he did in his hometown. When he originally left to become a traveling scribe’s apprentice, a lot of the town elders joked about how there’d “finally be calm” in their little rice village.

He tells you of his mentor, your father’s advisor, of how they met when he was just shy of 11 and how your father and his advisor had saved his life on the same day they met from a burning tavern they were all sleeping in. His scribe tutor had passed in the fire and while the crown offered to get Sugawara escorted back to his hometown safely, the opportunity to go to the capital had been far more interesting to him.

You giggle at that part of the story, “is it really that boring in Hakone? I’ve heard it’s beautiful there.” You say and Sugawara chuckles, “beautiful to everyone but eight-year-old boys.”

“I was offered to become the advisor’s apprentice shortly after reaching the keep. I think he’d taken a liking to me during the travels.” He sheepishly admits and you smile warmly, “well you are very charming.”

Sugawara’s throat constricts at your compliment and you pretend that you don’t notice the way his hand squeezes yours a little too tight in surprise. He then straightens his back, “your majesty, I was under the impression that this was supposed to have helped you fall asleep.”

You shift around on your pillow with a small smile but close your eyes, “I love learning about you, so I fear the subject may have been far too interesting.”

Sugawara shakes his head, “I will gladly tell you more at another time, your majesty, if you promise me to try and get some rest.”

You sigh out comfortably, “that’s a promise, then.”

The contribution from my cat was short this time around, however no less important:

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh444444444444444444444444444---

go here to be added to my taglist!

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara x reader #hq x you #nohr.writing #THE PARTYS GETTING STARTED YALL!!!!!!!!!! THE TENSIONS THERE!!!!#i love a good will-they-wont-they #and these two are fucking blEEDING OUT THEIR LOVE THATS HOW OBVIOUS IT IS #the star and the earth fic #boom baby i hope i forgot everything and caught every grammatical error in my prior reading"!!!!!!!#ilysm yall<3 thank u for ur kind words on ch1<3333

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philliamwrites · 2 years

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I love watching everyone simp for Eren and Jean as I’m in the corner waiting for more The Dawn Will Come MC nonsense

the aot brainrot goes so hard rn, but I promise I had The Dawn Will Come open these days to see what's going on over there and remind myself of my hubris lol

And once June 24th rolls around and I get my hands on Three Hopes, you can bet ur sweet butt this will turn so fast into a Dimitri worship blog ❤️

#I miss byleth #And the sewer kids so so much #Why do I always decide to go for 250k words fanfics #Tea party tea party tea party #ask.phill #phill.TDWC #fe3h x reader

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matenrou-fan · 1 year

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Can I Request some cute headcanons with a fem so dating Nemu?

tysm!!

Nemu with fem! s/o General HC (SFW + NSFW)

decided to write these two requests like one cause it's pretty similar..! Hope it's okay..! <3 damn I can write for Chuoku's ladies for hours and never get tired omg.. Also, in this request Nemu joined the 'Party of Words' at her own will, if anything.

femreader, fluff, just wholesome stuff;; also oral (giving+receiving);;

SFW:

-Pampering you. A lot.

-Even during TDD time, when she was really young, Nemu showed some materiality to people around - from her older brother to Ichiro and Kuko.

-So of course now, when she meets you, her dearest girlfriend, she will show even more deep love and care, as she values you a lot.

-Cooking for you every day. And I mean every day.

"Nemu, I'm serious.. You shouldn't spoil me like that.." - you mumble with a small sigh, eating another delicious meal from your girlfriend. Well, despite you literally trying to scold her, you can't help but consume her cooking with gusto. Meat is juicy and warm, and rice so delectable and flavoursome..

"Ahh? How can you call a simple dinner as something that can spoil you, dear?" - she giggled, with her cheerful smile.

"Well, but you already have enough tasks in your job.. You should think about your own well-being in the first place, not shoulder the responsibility to feed me..!" - you furrow your brows, trying to actually look angry, but it's kinda hard when you see this cute loving face and caring gaze of your darling.

"For me it's just another way to tell you how I appreciate you.." - Nemu sits next to you and caresses your hand with which you hold the spoon. - "Here.."

With these words she takes your hand and forces the spoon in her mouth to eat a piece of meat.

"See? If I eat it together with you, you will not be so angry, hm?~"

-If you love some exotic food, bring it on! Nemu loves to learn new things and try them, and even if it's not something that unusual but just some meal she never cooked before, she would work hard to prepare it for you.

-Oh, and if you don't really know how to cook she would absolutely love to teach you a little. She is a soft and gentle teacher, yet she wouldn't tolerate too much mess in the kitchen.

-Like;; Nemu does love to fool around with you, but not that much during cooking, as I think she values any products very much and doesn't want to spoil any food.

-But at another time ? Sure. Really good in tickle fights and love to make you giggle.

"Hehe, do you really think you can escape me?" - A playful voice comes after you when you jump into the bedroom from the living room, running away from your girlfriend.

"Aah, Nemu, stop! It's more like tickle hunting than tickle fighting..!" - you can't help but giggle, actually enjoying this childish goofy side of her.

But she quickly chased you and caught up, pushing you into the bed. Even when Nemu acted like that, all bratty, her mischievous smirk was too adorable. Her bright sweet face looked even cuter with such naughty expressions.

"You already want to admit defeat?" - low and evil chuckle, absolutely feigned, escaping her lips as she grabs your waist. - "I don't tolerate people who give up easily, and your penalty will be twenty tickles to both sides.. But you can pay fine with kisses. One kiss equals one tickle, understand?"

"Huh? Nemu, you're really bold today..!"

-Yet you're the only one to whom she's showing this silly side of her. Most of the time, especially during her work hours, Nemu is more cool and calculating, acting so serious..

-You absolutely love to stay overnight in her place just to see her getting ready to work. As soon as she changes into her uniform she starts looking so stunning, mesmerizing you with her fragile but stoic figure.

-Always looking in the mirror with such a stern face, fixing her service cap with her graceful hands.. Just to look at you and instantly get softer again, as she absolutely adores your sleepy face early in the morning.

"Mm? Are you still drowsy? You don't have work today, as I remember, so you can stay here and relax a little.." - she chuckled while putting on her gloves, watching as you yawn.

"Okay, director.." - you mumble, falling back in her soft, still a little bit warm bed and burying yourself under blankets.

"Director?" - a surge of laughter menaces to pass her lips when she gets closer to you, petting a blanket hill where you were hiding. - "I'm just a Vice Chief, you know.."

"Mm.. You should look in the future, you know, manifesting things by saying them.." - you came out from under the blanket and giggled. - "Also, is it actually okay for me to stay here for too long? I mean, I'm not part of the government and anything.."

"Well.." - as soon as you show up your face Nemu leaned closer and kissed you. - "If you will be quiet and good then it's okay.. So no games, my dear.."

-I think that all women who work in Party of Words live in Chuoku, and Nemu also has apartments here. But she can't bring you here for too long as the rules state that only worker's spouses can live on a permanent basis inside too.

-So she would start thinking about finally marrying you. Of course Nemu already dreamed about turning you from her girlfriend to her wife, yet now she will approach this matter more seriously.

-Probably will consult with Ichijiku, as these two are closer in work. Poor Nemu just wanted to ask if there were any altars in Chuoku and when it would be better to have a wedding, so it wouldn't disturb her working schedule just to receive a whole list of things with a bunch of tips and recommendations on the top from the Deputy Prime Minister.

-Ichijiku definitely sees her as her younger sister or something, I swear. So she wants you two to have the greatest party in the whole world, even if you two originally planned just to have some quiet wedding.

-"You look absolutely stunning in this dress, Nemu.. More like a goddess than a bride." - you mumble under your breath, standing with her under the altar, holding hands together.

You spend so much time making all these decorations with balloons, bows, and ribbons.. But honestly during all events all you see is your beautiful darling in her mesmerizing, charming wedding dress. - "It feels like I'm in a dream.."

"This is the fifth or sixth time you have told me this, s/o.." - her small giggle tickles the depth of your soul, as even this familiar sweet voice sounded more lively and beautiful today for you. - "You also look so entrancing, my dear. I want time to stop right now, just to admire you a little bit more.."

You squeeze her hands, feeling as your heart starts beating faster and faster.

"Try not to fall unconscious when we'll kiss, alright?" - Nemu smirks, watching as your face blushes and turns pale at the same time. Yet you can see through this vivid playful behavior that your bride is also really nervous, such loving shy sparkles in her bright pink eyes..

"I-i will try.." - you nod with a small trembling sigh and whisper. - "It seems to me or Ichijiku is filming us right now..?"

"I think she was filming the whole evening.." - Nemu giggles, getting closer. - "What's wrong? You're so shy over the fact that our first marriage kiss would be recorded?"

".. stop toying with me like that.. Or I actually would fall.."

"You only would fall into my arms, dear wife.."

-Now, when you're married, and live together.. Uh, your spouse gets even more overprotective.

-Nemu was always so caring towards you, sending texts, asking about your well-being during work hours, or cooking for you, like I said before.. And now she's even more clingy towards you.

-Any scratches, even a small one? She would treat it, lovingly scolding you without rancor for being so clumsy. Have a really tough day at work? Her arms are always open to hug, and Nemu is willing to listen to all your problems, patting your head and letting you cry on her shoulder. Of course she'll treat you with your favorite snack after and then cuddle you before you fall asleep in her embrace.

-Oh, or maybe you have a pain back after sitting on your laptop for too long or your tummy hurts during periods? She would provide you with some light massage just to soothe your tensed muscle and make you more relaxed..

-In short, Nemu is always so solicitous, ready to support you. Her absolutely unselfishness makes you shy sometimes, as you also want to delight your dearest wife with some care and attention. Even someone so joyful and lovelinnes as she needs some warmth and support too.

-So relaxing in your hug is her favorite way to relieve stress now, because now she can enjoy your warm embrace every day. And it feels like she never gets tired of the softness of your body, exactly opposite - now your wife cuddles you almost at every free moment, peppering your face in small kisses.

-She prefers some light, quick kisses, especially during the day or if you are outside apartments, on dates or just in store. But when you're all alone, just waking up or getting ready to sleep, some long, soft and passionate kisses is what you both need, sharing the depth of your love through gentle touches.

NSFW:

-I don't think she has too much experience or experience at all, being really shy and insecure here.

-So it would be great if you will be the one who leads in bed, encourage her with some praise and compliments.

"Nemu, you were all giggly and playful all evening, and now completely shy.. Is something wrong?" - you can't help but tease your wife a little, admiring her bright pink cheeks as you get on top of her, hands already roaming on her body.

"Don't laugh at me..!" - she whispers with furrowed brows and pouty lips, looking away. - "You know.. I'm just kinda anxious.."

"Mm? Well, you can always stop me, okay..? Don't push yourself and tell me immediately you're uncomfortable.." - you look at her with a serious face before leaning closer and luring Nemu into a passionate, deep kiss, slowly taking off her clothes.

But when you finally see her divine captivating body, you also get silent, absolutely hypnotized with her figure.

"Nemu.. you're like an angel.. or goddess.." - you gasp, nor being able to look away from her smooth skin and at the same time too ashamed and excited to look at such beauty.

"Oh..? It looks like you're shy now, aren't you?" - even absolutely embarrassed, Nemu keeps teasing you back, trying to calm down this rapid pace of her heartbeat. Her trembling arms reached your waist, quickly getting under the fabric of your shirt. - "Come on, you should please with something too.."

-Only some gentle, slow sex with many strokes and touches, as you two share lots of kisses and cuddles, whispering sweet nothings to each other's ear.

-For her, these intimate moments are very important, more like bonding between your souls than bodies, as Nemu tries to show all her possession to you through compliments and touches.

-In some days she can be a pillow princess, just enjoying as you pepper her whole body with kisses, slowly getting lower and lower.

-Just sometimes, after hard work, she's too drained and wants to be pampered too, so you show her another great way to forget about any stress, sitting between her legs for hours, kissing her thighs and licking her trembling folds. Her bittersweet wetness is just so tasteful, you can quickly get addicted.

"Mm, Nemu, everything about you is so sweet.. Your personality, your voice, your appearance.. Even your juices.." - you tickle her pale skin with hot breath, lapping on her clit, making her high pitched voice even more weak with such words. - "You're like candy.."

-Nemu is a sensitive girl, and the way she is always melting under your tongue, grasping at your hair is so cute.. You can watch as she becomes more and more into a trembling moaning mess forever.

-But on some days, especially after you live together for quite a long time, your wife gets more bold, trying to be as served in bed as in usual life too.

-Always so gentle and careful, making you all drenched with her soft kisses on your clit and light licks on folds. It's not like Nemu wants to tease you (maybe just a little bit) or make you beg, she just wants to take some good, long time with you together.

-"Don't squirm too much, s/o.." - she giggled, playfully pinching your shaky hip. Just when she starts to be so naughty? - "Or I will stop.. Hehe, don't look at me like that now! If you will be more obedient, then I'm willing to please you for the whole night today.."

#hypmic x reader #hypmic imagines #hypmic #hypnosis mic #nemu aohitsugi #nemu aohitsugi x reader #party of words x reader #party of words #hypmic Nemu #hypnosis mic Nemu #chuoku hypmic

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salaciousdoll · 7 months

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· · Just in: Kento Nanami isn’t tolerating his young hot neighbor party habits, here’s what he has to say · ·

･˳ . ⋆ Reporting Live from Kento Nanami and Next door neighbor!Fem!reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : smut, Nanami is a hard!dom, hair pulling, creampie, fucked through orgasm, pet names( stupid bunny, slut, etc.), degradation is big time here, bed breaking( not just the head board), breeding kink, Nanami talks about getting you pregnant, hardcore, reader is mind fucked, Nanami is pussy drunk, reader is dick drunk, fluids( cream, squirting, drool), if I’m missing anything let me know WC: 1,081

MDNI, 18+

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from salaciousdoll: Please do note this was just to poke and have fun, it’s not gonna be perfect so don’t expect it. Anyways, hope you all enjoy my 35 min writing and yes I know this troupe and idea been used a thousands times, act like it hasn’t 😭 Nanami ass may be ooc here, idk.

Nanami always kept his eyes out for the new neighbor who threw parties with mountains of people coming in and out. He was pretty tired of the parties you throw even if you never introduced yourself to any one of your neighbors. You were young and everyone in this neighborhood was either stepping into their 30s or older than that. Only reason he knew you were young was because of how often he’ll see you leave and come in with different boys and girls.

The parties you threw were rowdy and full on project x type beat except without trashing your house. Nanami would be sleep and all he would hear is screams, music, and even the sound of fucking near his window. It’s like you didn’t care about anything or anyone, not even the complaints or calls from the police the other neighbors sent.

So Nanami didn’t care about the way you were clawing at his chest with your long, pretty acrylics as he gripped your hair in a tight ponytail— pounding into your pussy from beneath you with no mercy. The squelching sounds weren't enough to make him stop, in fact, that’s the sole reason he kept going. He ignored your cries and scrambling to get away from him because of how good he stretched your little hole out.

“ you’re not lasting like I thought you would… I mean sluts last long, so why aren’t you?”, Nanami grunts into your ear, his hips thrusting up into your weeping pussy, angrily. He didn’t care about the bed hitting the wall as he fucked you like the whore you’re mother wouldn’t be proud of.

You coughed and tried to make eye contact with him, but his grip on your hair was too much for you to see his face under you. So you cried out your frustration through crystallized vision, “ M’not a slut. Please slow down, Mr. Nanami.” Your sweet little moans and whimpers were beautiful.

Nanami let out a loud growl like moan and wrapped one arm around your body while he now had some of your ponytail tangled and wrapped into his hands, he was making your hair messy just like he was making your pussy messy. You partially regretted coming on because of the dare, but in the same breath, you were happy because now you’re living two of your fantasies.

“ You are. You are. Nnnhh, you’re a little slut that’s been disturbing this neighborhood since you stepped foot in here. Shame on you, did your mother and father teach you anything or are you too dumb of a bunny to understand. Fuck!”, Nanami grunts out his words because of how tight your fluttering walls wrapped around his dick.

Nothing but cries and little chokes escaped out of your mouth. You couldn’t form basic words, how dumb can you be? Nanami balls were slapping on your puckered hole from how fast and rough he was going. You gave up on digging your nails into his chest because you were so fucked out and tired from the pounding he’s giving you. So now your bare chest was pressed onto his bare chest, sweat glands producing from both of you.

“ Please! Please! Please! M’gonna m’gonna— uhhnnn.”, your moans were suppressed by his smooth lips. You were screaming into his mouth as you squirted over his pelvis, his balls, and legs. Some of it was getting on his sheets and he didn’t care one bit. He was too angry at you to see how messy you’ve gotten his covers.

You tried to scramble off him because you were squirting too much and the pressure of it all was too much especially for your already beaten up pussy. It’s like Nanami has superhuman speed and stamina. He sped up even more faster as he fucked up into you, you and your pussy screamed and cried.

Nanami grunts were beginning to become broken, “ Sh-ittt, s’good, pussy is so good squirting like that. I guess all those boys coming in and out of your house taught you how to milk cock, perfectly.” Your eyes widened and then they rolled back into your head at the rolling of his hips hitting the inner thighs repeatedly.

As soon as he did one more snap of his hips, the bed frame broke underneath you two causing a loud noise to erupt from how hard it hit the floor. The poles attached to his bed fell in the opposite direction of you two. If someone were to walk in right now, they’ll see that it looks like a tornado hit his room with how broken the bed was. Yet that still didn’t stop him. He now had a great angle as he pounded your tired, wet cunt over and over with one knee propped up, so you were now fucking rapidly and properly. He felt your velvet walls sucking him in with your liquid coming out at the same time. You were perfect for his cock. Nanami’s cock was big, way too big for your pussy. He loved your pussy so much. He was too drunk on your pussy to understand that his bed broke.

“ My fucking slut, such an devilish little temptation you are, gonna breed this tight little pussy. Nghh! Hopefully that’ll get you to stop having these parties and fucking with those boy toys of yours…. Settle down and grow round and big with our child, how does that sound? Hmm.”, Nanami moaned as you were now creaming on his cock from how overstimulated you were.

Your brain was fogged and your words were slurred with drool hangin out your mouth as you answered him, well tried. Luckily he understood every word you said. “ Yesh—yess, I wan’ your babies. Ahnnn. Want to be full and bloated with your children, mmm mr. Nanami”

Nanami smirked in victory because now there were no more parties, boys, or loud music. Gotta love corrupting and breaking his pretty little neighbor.

ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟ Tagging: @chosoist @simpingfor-wakasa @honeybleed and anyone else who wants to be tagged

15K notes · View notes

tonycries · 29 days

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Unhoneymooners!? - G.S.

Synopsis. The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, unprotected, argument as foreplay, slight enemies to lovers, more like annoyances actually, cunnilingus, oral (male + female), spitting, creampié, one bed trope, rough, Satoru is still EXTREMELY down bad for you, and unfairly hot, forced proximity, cúmplay, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 8.5k

A/N. It’s impossible to not write Satoru without bullying him at least a little bit.

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 2 weeks, and 16 hours ago - not that you were keeping count, of course.

So why was he outside of your resort room blasting “Kill Bill” by SZA like he’s auditioning for the world’s most dramatic comeback tour? On what should’ve marked your fourth anniversary, no less.

Well, given you were the one to lock him out, but still - the stubborn bastard could at least have some decorum.

With an exasperated sigh, you throw yourself onto the king-sized bed of your honeymoon suite, trying to will away that annoying, grating voice - not SZA, no, more so Satoru singing along at the top of his lungs to the chorus.

How did you even get here? And with Satoru of all people - your Satoru. Or at least he was this time a little over a year ago.

You first met Satoru when you were in university, back when he wore those pretentious circled sunglasses and waltzed around those halls like he owned the place. And after a single literature assignment together, he wasn’t just your (self-proclaimed) best friend; he was the reluctantly favorite thorn in your side.

Like the rest of him, Satoru’s introduction into your love-life was anything but subtle. It wasn’t like he strolled in, gave a polite nod, and blended into the background. Oh no, he bulldozed his way in and dragged you to dance with him on the tables of some dingy frat party in what you could only assume was some joke from the universe at your expense.

And damn him, you think bitterly, you couldn't resist him that night. Spinning you into a dramatic dip, silver chain brushing your face as his half-lidded eyes bored into yours. You couldn’t not kiss him after the way his hands were just searing into your skin.

God, you’ve never been able to listen to “Gasolina” the same way ever since.

Satoru was in love as he was in the rest of life - a force of nature, and it was too easy to find yourself caught up in him.

That night at the frat party was just the beginning. From then on was a rollercoaster of everything from heated debates over the best flavor of ramen to impromptu road trips where you’d end up under a carpet of stars. Wrapped in each other’s arms and sharing whispered secrets for an unpromised future - oftentimes where Satoru would crack a joke or two about running away to Tokyo with him. To which you’d laugh it off with a “Yeah yeah, I’d leave everything I’ve known behind in a heartbeat for your dumbass, Toru.”

You just didn’t think that it would be the downfall to your relationship. All the empty promises.

Because as those heavenly days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, eventually two years had gone by. The whirlwind romance settled into a comfortable rhythm, but with it came the looming promise of graduation and Satoru moving to work under his family company in Tokyo.

Under pressure, it wasn’t long before the cracks began to show, the arguments more frequent, and the silences more deafening. And as your relationship slowly turned into nothing more than a husk of what it used to be - so did the both of you.

Long story short, graduation was a bittersweet goodbye - and you think both of you knew long before it was actually over. Neither of you attended the afterparty - with Satoru on a flight straight to Tokyo and you at home to stuff your face with chocolate. Hey, at least you could blame your tears on finally leaving university, right?

You had meticulously erased his name from your phone, your social media, and even your dreams - well, almost, the bastard still came around to bother you occasionally. It was messy, painful, and final.

But “final” really didn’t explain your current predicament. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Satoru is that he’s always there - whether you liked it or not. He was there when you needed a partner for that literature assignment, and he was there to turn your world upside down at that dingy frat party.

Hell, he was even there to help you stubbornly chug mountains of ice cream and win that raffle for this five day-long getaway trip to the Maldives. Though, you think he might’ve chugged the ice cream without the promise of a vacation anyway.

But, when ultimately those shiny tickets came in the mail - Satoru wasn’t there. Oh well, it might’ve been a couple’s trip - but you could have a hot girl summer, right? Maybe you could even snag a hottie by the end. You’d almost forgotten that he’d be getting his copy of the tickets as well.

Yet, unfortunately - as the beginning notes of P!nk’s “So What” bursts through the heavy wooden door - you were inevitably reminded of the fact that he was here. Right now. Goading you into coming outside.

You find yourself groaning inwardly (and outwardly) because of course, why wouldn’t he come back even more obnoxious than before? You haven’t seen him in ages, yet here he is, crashing back into your life with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Or - you furrow your brows at his purposefully off-key singing carrying over the sounds of the waves outside - with the subtlety of a manchild with a JBL and a premium account on Spotify.

Rubbing your temples in frustration, you contemplate how much longer of this it would take before you’re both kicked out of this resort. And after you ate so many ice creams to win this getaway trip? No chance.

With a resigned sigh, you rise from the bed, smoothing out the bathing suit you’d just put on before the devil incarnate showed up knocking at your door. Something hot and prickly pools in your stomach as you approach it, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the situation. So like Satoru.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you shakily reach for the handle. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal actually.

…

What’s the worst that can happen?

Slam!

The door swings open, and there in all his smug glory stands a very shirtless Satoru. Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru, the same asshole you’ve blocked on even Gmail.

Except, you’re momentarily struck by how high you have to raise your eyes to meet his. Are growth spurts even a thing anymore? You didn’t have a chance to take a good look last time before slamming the door shut at the first flash of white hair and a smug grin.

But right now, traitorously, your gaze catches on just how broad his shoulders look and…since when was he so chiseled? Damn you, Tokyo - you were doing him too good.

His hair is slightly longer too, curtaining those slightly more mature features, stopping just above that ever-immature grin. One which moves as he hums, “Well, happy fourth anniversary to me, If I knew this came with the suite then I’d have swam here myself.”

You scoff, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious as he wiggles his brows, striking blue eyes sweeping your figure from head to toe. “I’d prefer if you swam back. What are you doing?”

“Why, just showing up to our room on our lil’ honeymoon, sweetheart.” Satoru sing-songs, leaning against the doorframe to fully prevent you from slamming the door in his (admittedly) pretty face again. “And before you try to break my nose with that door again, I won that ticket here fair and square, y’know. I ate just as much ice cream as you did for it.”

“You ate most of those before you knew about the getaway raffle.” you sigh over his nonchalant shrug, pinching your nose, “And stop calling it our honeymoon, I dumped you five months ago.”

“Well aren’t you just the gift that keeps on giving. Keeping count?”

“No. Don’t be a pest.”

“Always thought you had a thing for pests. After all, you did date me.” As Satoru grins impossibly wider, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He winks, “And if I’m a pest then you’re an itch that just won’t go away.”

“At least I’m not the itch that shows up uninvited to someone’s honeymoon suite.” you hiss. And with that you start shutting the door ever-so-slowly, delighting in the panic that overtakes Satoru’s features as he reaches out frantically.

“Hey!” he sputters, “I didn’t know you’d be here! And besides this ‘pest’ forgot his slippers all the way in Tokyo and can’t stand on flaming-hot boardwalks for too long so let me in.”

And sure enough, you glance down to see that Satoru isn’t wearing any slippers on the scorching boardwalk. The realization almost brings a smirk to your lips. This idiot.

“Wow.”

“‘Wow’ at my feet or-”

“I should leave you here to rot just for your pure idiocy.” you deadpan, eyes locked on the way he’s burning his soles off yet still has the audacity to flash you a cocky smile.

“But you won’t.” he hums.

A beat passes. One. Two. And Satoru’s grin almost falters, before you finally relent - opening the door just a crack, cursing his entire bloodline under your breath. “You’re incorrigible” you mutter as he saunters inside victoriously, dragging his hefty luggage behind.

“Why change perfection, sweetheart~” he calls out, heading straight for the bedroom, only to let out a delighted “OooOOo” at the sight of the king-sized bed in the middle. The only bed. “How scandalous, maybe you’ll even fall in lov-”

“Don’t. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a seashell.” you warn, holding up both keycards threateningly, “I get the bed, you take the couch.”

“But-”

“And I’ve got the keys, so slippers or not you’ll be back out on that boardwalk.”

A slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips at the way Satoru looked so dramatically crestfallen, you continue - just to be petty, “And no more ‘Kill Bill’ that’s on my angry ex playlist.”

With a heavy sigh he sulkily makes his way to the bathroom, calling out as he does, “Fine. But I’m showering first.”

As he disappears from sight you throw yourself onto your bed, basking in what little peace and quiet you’ll have because of your unwanted guest. This was going to be a-

“And I’m using all of your body lotions.”

“...”

“I will use one of your body lotions.”

Groaning, you sink into the plush mattress, just wishing it would swallow you whole and spare you from this torment. And this was only Day 1? This was going to be a very long five days.

---

The first night with Satoru, honestly, wasn’t too bad.

You don’t know what you expected exactly - maybe for him to pour hair dye in your shampoo or something. But he actually stuck to his word, slept on the couch after only a bit of taunting, and used only one of your body lotions. Your best-smelling, most expensive one, but one nonetheless.

Feeling slightly more optimistic, you spent most of the second day at the beach, meanwhile he stuck to lounging by the pool. Add in a bit of pretending you didn’t know him by the salad bar at dinner and that made for an almost-perfect hot girl summer.

Well, considering that you were rooming with your insufferable longtime ex - in a honeymoon suite of all places.

The only catch came that night, fully content at the burning soreness from being pushed around by the waves outside. You got ready to splay out on your bed, humming along to the tunes of your playlist and…Satoru’s lamenting?

“I swear my back feels like it’s been run over by a truck. Five of them, and a zoo.” he complains from behind you, dramatically draping himself over the couch - his impromptu bed.

“Good.”

“What if that was my last straw?”

“Even better.”

His exaggerated, disappointed whine is both embarrassing and almost-endearing as you roll your eyes, resisting the urge to suffocate him with a pillow. “Maybe call your chiropractor guy.”

Satoru shot you a pointed look, his expression a mixture of faux innocence and irritation, which you knew too well. “I wish but he’s trekking through the Himalayas. C’mon~ Don’t you think that lovely king-sized bed is too big for just one?”

“No, but the boardwalk sure is. Maybe you should try it out.” you monotone, getting ready to end this conversation once and for all.

But when has Satoru ever let you off easy? He sits up abruptly, a devious smile curling his lips. “Ohh, I get it.” he taunts, batting his long lashes mockingly, “You’re scared to sleep in the same bed with me.”

Huh?

“Out of all the idiotic-” you cut yourself off by whirling around to face his smug grin, “Why would I be scared to sleep in a bed with you. I’ve done that far too many times already.”

“Exactly,” he chuckles. “And all those times you could barely last an hour before without keeping your hands off of me. Scared you’ll end up pinned underneath me and stuffed full like old times, sweetheart?”

You narrow your eyes at him despite the heat burning your face. “The only thing I’m scared of is your icicle feet on my side.”

He laughs, a sound that’s equal parts irritating and endearing, and stands up from where he was slumped on the couch. Making his way slowly, but surely towards you, “Oh, c’mon. For old times’ sake, admit it, you miss me.”

"Yeah, missed the peace and quiet I don’t have because of your big mouth,” you scoff. Finding it hard to meet his twinkling gaze as he comes close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. Your cheeks burn at the proximity - hot enough to match the heat radiating off his body.

Satoru shakes his head, undeterred by your threats. And suddenly you get the overwhelming urge to throw him out the window and straight into the ocean. “You can deny it all you want, but you still have feelings for me.”

Your jaw clenches at his audacity. “You wish. I’d never.”

“Then prove it.”

Damn, he was good.

Which is probably how you found yourself lying in the same bed as Satoru, with a wall of all the pillows in the room erected between you two - and a few extra from room service just in case.

“Sweetheart, this is a king-sized bed. Is the fortress really necessary?”

You wrap your blankets tighter around yourself, trying to ignore the figure radiating warm right next to you. Muttering out a muffled little, “Yeah, so you can keep your mitts off of me.”

Satoru groans dramatically, bed creaking as he shuffles what you can only assume to be closer to you. “You keep your mitts off of me, you lecher.” he quips, voice dripping with sarcasm as he inches closer.

You stiffen at his proximity, feeling his warmth seep through the layers of blankets and pillows as he chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine, “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. We used to share a bed all the time.”

“That was before,” you interject. God, you didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“Before what?” Satoru presses, his voice low and insistent.

Now, you might’ve let yourself be goaded into sharing a bed but these were old wounds better off left alone. You hiss, tone firm, “Before. Now sleep”

Before when you didn’t have to make a wall of pillows. Before when he would hold you tight and whisper sweet secrets into your ear. That he’d buy you the biggest ring he saw and promise you the world. Before-

“I missed you, y’know.” Satoru breaks the silence barely audible over the sound of your own thoughts. The word pangs through your mind and claws at your chest. And at your silence he continues, tone a little lighter, “And stop hogging all the blankets, I’m gonna freeze to-”

“Boardwalk.”

“My apologies, ma’am. Goodnight, ma’am.”

And he sinks back into his pillow with a huff, you let out a sigh of relief. Something hot coiling in your stomach as you close try to catch as much sleep as you possibly could with the bane of your existence laying right beside you. The suddenly taller, dangerously handsome, still as-obnoxious-as-ever bane of your existence.

You just wonder if he remembered “before”.

Oh, how Satoru remembered “before”. So much so that he had sixteen different playlists dedicated to you even after the breakup.

It’s divine punishment - it has to be. Satoru thinks there’s no reasonable explanation for the series of unfortunate events happening to him other than punishment from his ancestors above for being such a pussy and losing the love of his life.

First he forgets his slippers, then he ends up locked out of his own honeymoon suite by said love of his life. Granted, all thoughts of his poor burnt soles went out the window the moment he caught a glimpse of you in that positively sinful bikini. God, were you glowing. A goddess upon Earth - he could really give the Gojo Satoru of five months ago a good, hard kick.

And now he’s stuck in a - very comfortable - prison with you just inches away, tossing and turning in that way he knows means that you can’t sleep either.

Honestly, very funny universe, the great Gojo Satoru demands a refund. Way to punk’d him into confronting the feelings he’s desperately been trying to bury these past few months - ever since he got on that plane to Tokyo and contemplated faking a heart attack just to get off.

Realizing just then that he lost the love of his life - and the only woman who’d tolerate his karaoke nights. But with that realization came another, more jarring one: he was too late.

Every touch, every laugh, and even every time you rolled your eyes was etched into his very soul, and it felt like a montage from a sappy breakup movie directed by a sadistic screenwriter who had it out for him.

And it really didn’t help that this was the exact suite he was planning once upon a time to propose in. God, how you’d feed him to the crabs if he said anything about that - nevermind the fact that he was actually one that booked this-

But still, some traitorous, annoying part of his heart interrupts, she still hasn’t made you sleep on the boardwalk yet.

Maybe - just maybe - he’ll wake up to a second chance?

…

Ha. As if.

“I can’t sleep.” Satoru groans out loud, more so to drown out his own thoughts than anything.

“Well, I can. Goodnight.”

Ah, his girl was such a lil’ liar. Undeterred, the mattress creaks as he shuffles his weight to excitedly face you, taking a moment to admire how pretty you looked under the dim moonlight. He plows on, “Hey, if you promise not to make me crab food, wanna walk along the beach and watch the stars?”

A beat of silence. One. Two. so deafening and tense that Satoru was half a second away from obnoxiously laughing it off as a joke and pulling out his Emo Times™ playlist.

“Or I can go back to the couch and-”

“Shut up. Let’s watch the stars, Satoru.”

But what do you know - maybe the universe hasn’t given up on him just yet.

And, well, if he woke up the next morning breaching your fortress - your warm breath tickling his neck and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, like the lifeline he never knew he needed - then, neither of you mentioned it.

---

“Hey, Satoru. You think we’ll always be like this?” you hum into your boyfriend’s chest, barely a whisper as the looming fears of, well, everything ring in your mind.

He pulls you close, flashing a mischievous grin before planting a dramatic kiss on the top of your head. “Duh, I’ll always be around to drive you dangerously close to a stroke, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, yet bury yourself closer to his warmth anyway.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter if I have to drag you by the leg to Tokyo. Wherever you are is where I belong. ”

---

You’ve come to learn that a resort island is only so big when you’re actively trying to avoid your 6’3 manchild of an ex.

Now that you were rooming with Satoru, sleeping with Satoru (in a literal sense only, of course), and just-so-happening to bump into him at the beach - somehow, talking with him is a little easier, his presence just a bit more exciting than you’d care to admit.

If the you of four days ago could see what had become of you, then she’d probably slap some sense into you faster than you could say “Kill Bill”. Sleeping in the same bed (still only literally), having dinner, watching the stars - with Gojo Satoru? You’ve gone completely off your rocker.

But could you really be blamed? These last few days have you feeling like maybe you’ve been dropped into an alternate universe, where you and Satoru never broke up.

Yet, reality is a persistent little bastard. And with the end of your trip looming dangerously closer, the past you would be cackling mockingly in your face, flashing a large sign in big, red letters reading “I TOLD you so.”

Whatever. Maybe by this time tomorrow both of you could laugh this all off as a silly little adventure and call yourself somewhat begrudging friends. Maybe you’d even end up unblocking him by the end - on Gmail, at least.

At the very least, dinnertime was a solace - both from your thoughts and the smug bastard talking your ear off about how he could “make that spaghetti better than a thousand Italian grandmothers.”

Until the fourth - and final - night, that is. When the resort, deciding that your current torture wasn’t already enough, arranged a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people.

Great. Wonderful. Perfect, in fact. Going out with a bang. Was this really part of the all-inclusive package? It was like the universe was playing some twisted joke on you - or some awful version of wingmanning.

You grit your teeth silently as you’re ushered to the beachside table, thoughts barely audible over the waves crashing against the shore and the soft, romantic music drifting from the band nearby.

The complete opposite of Satoru, who was already seated at the table and enjoying himself far too much for your liking. He lounged back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched you sit opposite him uncomfortably.

You hated to admit it - but God was he dangerously beautiful in that crisp white button-up, one that you knew was from his overpriced collection for special occasions. You found yourself fighting to avoid the amber hues twinkling in his eyes as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features.

Pretty? So frighteningly pretty - until he speaks, that is.

“And here I thought our honeymoon couldn’t get any worse. You’re sweating bullets, sweetheart. This your first date with me or something?”

“We’re not on a honeymoon, Satoru. And no, it just brings back memories.” you scoff. Relishing in the way he inches his chair closer to listen, clearly not expecting this sudden sentimentality. “Memories of why I blocked you on every social media.”

All but slamming his head down on the table, Satoru whines out, “Ouch, straight for the jugular. That mouth is still as bitchy as ever, huh? Though I do prefer it choking on my-”

“I’m going to throw you into the ocean.”

“Ooo, kinky~” he hums, swirling his wine glass, “But you know what this reminds me of? That one time we had dinner under the stars.”

You froze, the memories suddenly flashing back to you despite your best efforts to suppress them. “Oh yeah,” you muse. A chuckle leaving your mouth despite yourself, “Wasn’t that where you spilled ketchup all over your shirt and then insisted it was a fashion statement?”

He leans in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hey! It worked, didn’t it? I got compliments from everyone including you.”

“I was just trying to stop you from bursting into tears.” you roll your eyes, shaking your head at the memory.

“Exactly, sweetheart. Like moths to a flame.”

“More like to a bug-zapper.”

Satoru throws his head back and laughs, loud and unabashed. A sound that echoes across the beach and makes something warm and sticky strum at your heartstrings. And at that moment, that stupid, little part of you didn’t even mind that you were at a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people.

And he didn’t even have to goad you into it with SZA this time.

As the orange glow of the setting sun melded into the cool blue of the night, it almost felt like slipping back into an old routine. The food had long since been finished. Jabs and shared memories flowing through the air like the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

The cool air was now thick with contentment and something so unknown yet so familiar that it made your heart race.

“I swear.” you groan over Satoru’s loud cackles, “He tried to charm his way out of the bill by flirting with the waitress. In front of me.”

Satoru doubles over, clutching his stomach as he laughs uproariously. “Classic move! If he’s going to be a cheapskate then he should’ve at least been successful with it.”

Damn, was he eternally grateful for these dim candles. Otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flushing tinting his cheeks. How dare you sit there so gorgeous and perfect in front of him. Perfect for him - you haven’t changed one bit.

“Right? She looked ready to fling us both out.” You chuckle, eyes catching on the little dimple just at the corner of his mouth as Satoru shoots you a sly grin. “Mhm, I know if it were me I would’ve charmed us out of the bill successfully.”

You raise a brow, retorting, “Oh please. I’ve had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of that ‘charm’. You’d probably end up charming us into washing dishes in the kitchen.”

Ah, right now, he doesn’t think he wants to be anywhere but here - bickering with you.

“Ouch, you wound me, woman!” Satoru feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically before leaning down to whisper, low and conspiratorial, “Besides, I doubt you even remember what pleasure feels like since being with me.”

A thrill goes down your spine as you realize the insinuation of his words, steady and searing - matching that of Satoru’s fingers on yours - which had snuck their way across the table, lazily tracing patterns along your skin.

When did they even get there? Sly bastard.

Your mouth drops into a soft oh! at the dangerous glint in his eyes. But you refuse to back down, “Don’t flatter yourself, Satoru. I’ve had other guys make me cum much harder than you have.”

Touch burning. Mapping every curve and dip he’d known so well, and this time - you graze them back. A challenge. God, you missed that warm little flutter in your chest.

That seems to catch him by surprise, as those darkened blue eyes widen. But there’s a dangerous edge to his grin as he purrs, voice low. “Is that so?”

And with that, Satoru’s chair is scraping softly against the sand as he stands up, “C’mon, you’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

Oh.

Satoru knows that it’s been 5 months, 4 weeks, and 8 hours since you two lasted an entire dinner civilly - not that he was counting, duh.

So when he begged the resort staff into setting the two of you up on this special candlelit dinner, he was expecting you to drown him in the lobster tank halfway through or at least end the night with a slap.

What he certainly did not expect was to end dinner with you shoved against the closed door of your suite, legs wrapped impossibly tight around his waist, and lips trailing hot, openmouthed kisses down your neck. He angles your neck, body pressing so impossibly close to yours.

Inwardly, you curse his button-up for being so goddamn thin that you could feel his abs rub against you with every little movement. Toned chest rumbling as he groans at your hands tugging at those soft locks - just a tiny revenge, for your body lotion.

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, and he breathes it in with an almost-pained sigh - not wanting to part for even a second. Because fuck it took so long to get you back and he wasn’t going to waste a single moment.

Pulling just a hair’s breadth away, “Tell me what you want. Always knew we’d end up-”

“Just shut up and kiss me, you smug bastard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And, well, who was he to deny you? So he does.

His lips are searing on yours, hasty and greedy. With a tinge of something so painfully familiar. Your hands make their way onto his chest, feeling the thundering heartbeat against your fingertips - matching that of yours.

Sweet. You tasted so sweet. Just like honey, and all the dreams where he didn’t leave you behind. Where he didn’t get on that damned plane but instead ran to you all the way from the airport like those sappy romcoms you love.

He licks at the seam of your lips, drinking in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, God, knowing his luck - he probably won’t.

One hand cups your cheek so gently - a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his lips as he kisses you deeper. Meanwhile the other wanders the expanse of your body, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake.

Satoru parts with a playful nip to your bottom lip - and before you realize what’s happening, the zipper hits the ground. He’s ripping your pretty dress off - mumbling something about “buying a new one” before large hands surge forward, groping and kneading your tits.

His mouth waters at the sight of your bra. Light blue - to match his eyes. “You evil, evil woman.” he mutters into the soft valley of your breasts as you giggle delightedly. Oh, how he couldn’t get enough of you.

And if there was ever a moment that Satoru thinks he could cream his pants right there, then this would be at the very top, followed very closely by the sight of that withering glare you shot after opening that suite door to him just a few days ago.

He unhooks your bra with one hand, throwing it blindly across the room as if it killed him to see you clothed.

Immediately, Satoru drops to his knees with the desperation of a madman, coming face-to face with the heavenly sight of your clothed cunt, soaking through your thin panties.

“Didn’t specify where I had to kiss, sweetheart.”

Your gaze pierces through him, as it always did. “What are you-” Your words get choked up in your throat as his tongue darts out. Licking a long, languid stripe over your clothed cunt.

“Shit. So sweet f’me, jus’ like I remember. Just one taste and I feel like m’gonna cum in my pants.” Satoru groans, urgently sliding your wet panties down your quivering legs.

“F-flattery won’t work.” you stammer out as his hot breath fans your quivering entrance as he waits just a second - one, two.

Drinking in the view of your pretty pussy with dazed, half-lidded eyes. Wet - so wet, he almost wants to tease you - just a bit, to see if you’ll get even wetter. Ah, he doesn’t have enough time to take in this view - probably never will. Would it ruin the mood if he took a picture?

“Oh, I’d say it worked pretty well.”

Cock twitching carnally, Satoru needed to taste you now. He immediately surges forward. Breathing you in so sinfully, pooling your juices on his tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his head back back back to let it slide down his throat.

Shit, if you were the forbidden fruit then he would gladly be cast out of the garden of Eden.

Half-delirious thoughts running through his mind, Satoru flattens his tongue across your swollen folds. Leisurely sliding between them, catching on your throbbing clit up and down up and down up and-

“Oh- hngh, Satoru faster-”

“So bossy.” he hums prettily around your swollen clit, the vibrations stimulating it just right. But of course, what his girl wants, she will get.

Lewd squelches and your mewls of his name ring in the heady room as he speeds up his ministrations. Rolling his tongue harshly along your clit, sucking so sensually. Licking at your sweet cunt, dipping just into your sloppy hole.

You almost miss the long fingers that deftly slide their way up your thigh, spreading your folds with his thumbs. A low groan sounds at the back of his throat as your walls flutter so sinfully around nothing - aching for more friction.

Urgently, Satoru bullies his fingers past your folds, sinking deep into your plushy walls as his tongue continues its abuse. So warm and wet around him. Curling his fingers just right.

“Ah- fuck, Satoru- Feels s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers back and forth. A ruthless pace that has tears stinging your eyes, hitting that spot over and over and-

“Oh yeah? Thought you didn’t like my ‘big mouth’?” he purrs, muffled around your clit, “Look at you, sweetheart, now falling apart cos’ of it.”

You scoff, fingers tangling in his silky hair, pushing him deeper into your dripping pussy - mostly because you needed it, but somewhat because you really needed him to shut up. “Yeah, I like it better when you shut the fuck up.”

And with a dark chuckle, his mouth is back on your cunt. Your slick glossy and dripping down the corner of his mouth as he alternates between sucking unforgivingly on your ravaged clit and fucking into you at the same time as his fingers.

And in the delicious stretch of your cunt, you barely register the metallic clinking of a belt before Satoru presses his clothed erection into you.

Shit. You clench so obscenely around his tongue at the feeling of his clothed, painfully hard and throbbing against your leg. Fuck - as big as you remember. You weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.

“You like this, huh?” he murmurs, speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure down your spine.

Cracking an eye open you risk a glance downward. Greedily eyeing the hand wrapped tightly around the base, moving up up up. Pumping in small, jerky movements at the same pace of his fingers fucking into you. “Like the way m’getting off to tonguefucking my girl?”

“Like thinking about how this is what I thought about all those lonely fucking night without you?” You arch into his touch, fingers searing on his scalp and angling Satoru just right to make your knees weak.

He’s so close that you can feel the precum smearing onto your leg. Mouth fucking you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting.

“Like thinking about how you’re all I can fucking think about.”

“Hngh- Yes, Satoru! Yes-”

You see stars as you cum - or maybe those were the tears in your eyes. Pulling Satoru impossibly closer to your quivering pussy so that you could ride out your high on his pretty face. And he readily accepts it - letting himself be handled roughly with the conviction of a man that wouldn’t mind dying if it was suffocating in-between your pretty thighs.

Your vision is hazy, blood still roaring in your ears as Satoru stands up. Not even bothering to wipe away the wet trail of your slick prettily glossing his lips before capturing yours in a searing kiss.

“Y’know, sweetheart,” he gasps in between heated kisses. “We got a king-sized bed so we better make use of it, hm?”

Your back hits the mattress before you can even react. Reeling from shock and the audacity as you bounce at the sheer force of his throw.

“Next time you do that you’re-”

Whatever insult at the tip of your tongue melts away immediately at the purely pornographic sight of Satoru stalking his way towards you from the foot of the bed. Eyes hooded, cock rock-hard, kiss-bitten lips parted slightly in a way that was so fucked-out.

Unhurriedly approaching you with such a predatory glint in his darkened eyes as he fucks his fist slowly - so agonizingly slowly. Eyes locked on you.

Despite cumming not even minutes before, your pussy jumps in anticipation. Immediately reaching over as soon as he’s close enough - as if in a trance - to replace his hand with yours.

He was big - so mouthwateringly big. Flushed your favorite shade of pink at his leaking tip, pulsing veins glistening in the dim light - every part of Satoru was so unfairly pretty.

So hot and heavy in your hand as you pump him at a steady, methodical pace. Precum smearing on your palm, trailing down your wrist as you pump. Tighter on the base, thumbing teasingly under his slit the way you knew he used to like.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Still remember, huh?” he hisses lowly. Ah, the way he still likes.

“Mhm.” you hum absentmindedly, thighs clenching together at the way his hips grind in shallow, mindless little motions into your soft hand. Meeting your strokes as if trying to fuck something so delicious out of him.

And, well, you just couldn’t resist a taste. Bending down in one, fluid motion to delicately lick at his angry, hard head. Slightly salty taste on your tongue as you swipe at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. Tracing lightly - ever-so-lightly - down his prominent veins.

Satoru groans, low and hoarse with desire, “Shit, hah- you don’ ngh- have to-”

“Shut up, Satoru.”

And with that, you’re shoving down as much as you can of his throbbing erection down your throat. Cunt clenching at the way he hardens impossibly as you choke and gag around him.

“Shit, oh- Oh fuck, m’girl. Yes yes yes-.” Satoru lets out a guttural moan. Fingers threading through your hair as he uses it as leverage to fuck himself slowly, deeper and deeper into your heavenly mouth. Hips stuttering and jerky with pleasure. Yeah, he definitely missed this.

Half-delirious and cock-drunk, you take him all the way till your nose was buried in the tufts of white at his toned pelvis, already so wet with saliva and precum.

Still got it, some smug, utterly debauched part of yourself titters.

It was dizzying, the way he was pulsing in your throat, his heady scent filling your senses. Beginning to move up and down up and down in hasty, desperate bobs of your head. Pulling such lewd gasps and moans from his lips.

You moan around Satoru’s thick cock, clawing at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Some truly animalistic part of yourself relishing in the neat, red lines down his milky skin. The sight hazy through the tears that spring to your eyes at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. A relentless, sinful tempo you were steadily losing your mind to.

Messy. It was so fucking messy.

You just wondered if his orgasm would be the same…

But, alas, one can’t always get what they want. Because Satoru pulls you off of his achingly hard cock with a lewd pop! that rings in his ears and makes your cunt twitch.

“Shit, sweetheart. Any longer and I’ll have to start thinking about ol’ Prof. Gakuganji to not cum.” he pants through ragged breaths, flashing you a deceptively innocent grin. “Now, lay back and spread ‘em f’me and let me see if your pretty pussy can still handle me.”

And that you don’t argue with.

It’s almost embarrassing - the way you scramble desperately to sink back into the mattress. Letting Satoru manhandle your legs open so shamefully for him, throwing them over his muscled shoulders. But that’s a problem for the future, not lust-drunk you.

Right now you couldn’t give less of a fuck as his hungry gaze locks on your glistening pussy. Pausing for just a split-second before spitting once. Twice. Thrice onto your waiting cunt. Making you feel more and more like an object as the warm saliva mixes obscenely with your slick, trickling down to form such a sinful pool on the sheets below.

And you liked it.

Almost as much as you loved the way Satoru drags his tip along your swollen folds, catching so maddeningly on your clit. Teasingly pooling your slick on his leaking head. It was so sloppy. And too slow.

“Satoru, I’ve waited five months too long for this. If you’re going to fuck me then fuck me like you mean it.” you grit out, frustration and pure need boiling over within you.

“Oh? So it’s like that, huh?”

And maybe you were a mastermind, maybe you were an idiot - probably both. Because Satoru immediately pushes in one, long thrust into your dripping cunt. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as he loses grip on whatever semblance of restraint he had - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first.

Fuck, it feels so heavenly. Oh, how you missed him.

Bowing his body down down down till his damp forehead met yours. Folding you completely underneath him in the way you’ve found that only the smug bastard, Gojo Satoru can.

You could almost sob at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, borderline insane, and exactly what you’d been trying to deny that you’d been craving all these past five months. Being split apart on his throbbing cock, feeling like you were about to be absolutely devoured underneath him.

It seems Satoru was just as needy for you, hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump against your walls matching that of your heart thundering against your chest.

Or was that Satoru’s? At this point you couldn’t even tell.

“Oh, god yes-, jus’ like that ah shit shit shit-”

“This what you wanted, yeah?” A low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully your walls were milking him as he pulls back. All the way till his leaking tip was just innocently kissing your sloppy hole - only to ram his cock all the way back into your snug cunt. “To be split apart on my cock?”

Shit, he could just about pass out right now with the way your cunt was sucking him in so greedily like she never wanted to part.

Guess she missed him too, he thinks deliriously. Not even having to think about it as he starts fucking into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. Pushing himself deeper and deeper into your plushy cunt.

“Äh- fuck, yeah. S’all I’ve wanted.” you mewl, feeling so vulnerable and exposed under the hungry eyes boring into yours. A dark gleam in them as he grins, “Then take it back.”

Disoriented, you gasp out a strangled, “What?” before Satoru’s hips become rougher, chasing his high as much as yours.

“What you said at dinner.” your lips fall into a soft oh! as you realize just what he’s talking about, “Admit that no man makes you cum as hard as I do.”

God, you don’t think you could answer even if you wanted to, choking on the harsh, purposeful movements of his hips just to fuck your soul out.

Heavy balls stinging your skin, the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin fills the heady air. Driving you to insanity. An absolutely unforgiving cadence that has the bed creaking in protest. Ah, whatever, he could buy them a new one anyway if this one just so happens to break.

“Take it back yet?” He had to break you first though.

Slick gushes out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “No.”

A large hand hastily makes its way down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit. Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier. “How about now?”

“Ah- hngh- oh fuck. Satoru!” You could only moan softly in response, broken whimpers leaving you each time his tip kissed your cervix. Angling his hips just right to expertly brush against that one spot he knew so well would have you keening and bucking up into his cock. Your face almost burns at the sheer familiarity of it all. This bastard knew you too well.

And something about that made such an uncomfortable, prickly feeling pool in your stomach.

Something which you knew would only be sated if you looped your arms around his neck. Nails digging into his sculpted back as you pulled him impossibly closer.

Kissing his flushed cheeks as he murmurs, “Take it back, sweetheart.”

Despite the thick cock splitting you in half till you probably couldn’t walk tomorrow morning, you find it in yourself to huff out a soft laugh at the way Satoru’s tone teetered on just that endearing side of sulky. “Fine. You win, Toru.” you whisper into his lips,

And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes and Satoru’s lips gently slotting against yours as he fucked you through your high. Acting as if the fucked-out whimper of his nickname is one he’ll never forget.

As if he couldn’t cum simply from hearing it leave your pretty lips. And he does, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum painting your plushy walls white with a raw groan of your name. It oozes out of your cunt and onto the mess of sheets below as he fucks his seed into you as a lover would. As he would.

It was intoxicating - everything from the way you milked his cock so sinfully, to the arms tight around his shoulders. Pulling him close, running soothingly along his skin as Satoru collapses onto you with a final, fucked-out thrust.

And despite being a lightweight, Satoru’s never been so easily drunk off of something than he was off of you. God how he missed this - how he missed you.

So much so that he can’t put it into words - and probably won’t ever be able to. But it’s alright, because your sticky body snug against his, and Satoru arms tenderly around your waist - but you didn’t mind. Both of you understood.

Satoru traces his fingers lazily along your side, neither of you bothering to tackle the mammoth task of cleaning up for now. Each movement slow and gentle, as if any sudden movement might shatter the delicate balance between you.

All is quiet in your little haven, and you could almost fall asleep. The most contented one you’ve had in a while - 5 months, 3 weeks, and 7 hours ago to be exact.

But, of course, Satoru can’t keep his mouth shut for nothing. You jolt out of your reverie as he hastily tries to stifle the startled laugh that huffs out of him. Your dazed eyes meet his in the dim lighting, raising a brow in question.

“It’s just…” he starts, voice soft, “You still call me Toru. Feels like home.”

Ah.

You find yourself chuckling softly with him. Heat rushing to your cheeks, burying yourself deeper into his warm chest, to hide the embarrassingly flustered smile breaking out across your face if anything.

Chuckling, Satoru shifts closer, touch now feather-light against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips. Faltering ever-so-slightly as you mutter out, “Happy anniversary, by the way. I didn’t say it earlier because someone was being a public menace.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that someone locked me out of my own honeymoon suite.” he laughs, drinking in your pretty lil’ smile.

Ah, you were perfect. As you always were. Satoru can’t help but utter out a little, “Hey, if I tell you something absolutely stupid, would you promise not to make me fish food?”

“Absolutely not.”

He knew you’d say that. So he flashes you an easy grin, a hint of nervousness in it that he’s sure you see through - you always do.

“So…” he begins, “First thing’s first, I’m thinking of expanding my father’s company further overseas and it might just so happen that I’m leading the branch development and get to pick where exactly.”

God, you made him feel like such a teenager. At your stunned silence, Satoru could barely raise his eyes to meet yours as he plows on, stumbling so uncharacteristically over his words, “You, I picked where you are.”

You’re breathless, words barely audible as his sinks in. “What? Toru that’s-”

“And don’t be mad but you kinda sorta didn’t-win-the-raffle-so-instead-I-planned-this-getaway-when-we-were-together.”

Any and every trace of breathless euphoria leaves your tone as you narrow your eyes at the very guilty Satoru beside you. Fidgeting under your intense scrutiny. Finally - after what seems like an eternity - you find your senses after his whiplash-inducing information dump.

A hand immediately shoots out to squeeze his side, right where you knew he was dangerously ticklish.

“You sneaky little-” you scold over his laughed out yells of, “Mercy! No murder on our honeymoon!” squirming helplessly beneath you.

“I can’t believe you let me chug all that ice cream.”

“Exactly- hah- help! You w-would’ve been so sad that you ah- didn’t win.” he manages to choke out under your attack.

Finally relenting, only once you’re sure he’ll be feeling the burn of laughter until your flight tomorrow, you release him from your grasp. A satisfied smirk playing on your lips as you lean in close. “You’re lucky I still love you, you smug bastard” you deadpan.

“Aww, you beat me to it.” Satoru whines. Yet he reaches out to cup your cheek, “And I love you,” words hanging in the air like a promise. “With every fiber of my being.”

You let yourself be begrudgingly pulled into his embrace again, hands caressing along your skin like the highest form of worship. Satoru sighs out a contented, “Best honeymoon ever.”

But of course, you couldn’t help but bully your idiotic boyfriend. “This is not a honeymoon, Toru.” you mutter into his heated skin.

He only presses you closer to him. Yeah maybe not, fingers deftly dancing along your left hand. But maybe next time.

“Wanna watch the stars and tell me all about that branch development?”

“Of course, sweetheart, but first can you at least unblock me on Gmail now?”

“...”

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 3 weeks, and 12 hours ago. And as for how long it’s been since he won you back - well, you think it might just be one of the few things you didn’t keep count of.

A/N. Based on my vacay at Lily Beach except I didn’t meet my future husband there :0

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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emmyrosee · 2 years

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Kiyoomi loves holding his daughter’s tiny hand.

Walking her to school, he loves that she squeezes two of his thick fingers with her whole fist when she’s ready to leave. In the grocery store, he’s got his hand clasped around hers protectively, the other holding the list you made him- she’s holding a list of her own, just to be like him.

After a jackals game, she wants to say hello to her second favorite uncles- that first spot is reserved for Komori, thankfully- and Kiyoomi keeps the tightest grip on her little hand while she tugs and pulls him towards Bokuto with all her might.

But despite this, there’s a pattern within the handholding that only those with the most keen eye can notice; So far, only Hinata has said something even remotely about it. Kiyoomi’s not even sure if you notice it, despite the frequency.

Holding his baby’s hand is his favorite thing in the world, yes- but only in his right hand.

The left hand is reserved for you, and you alone. He doesn’t tell you anything about it, you’d tease him relentlessly for it, but he feels relaxed when your wedding rings slip over each other when you lace your fingers with his. He smiles cheekily at you when he brings your knuckles up to kiss them, favoring the ring finger.

Maybe it’s just an obsession with your wedding ring above all else, his favorite symbol of everlasting love and a life with you, and he’s fine to not have the use of his hands when you’re out and about, his child on his right hip and your hand tightly woven with his left. If she’s in the middle, her left hand resides in his right, leaving his palm open in case you ever do decide to hold his hand instead of hers.

Whatever the circumstance, all he can do is thank whatever gods listened for his two favorite people to occupy both sides of him.

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gojorgeous · 4 months

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arranged marriage! gojo heacanons

pairing: gojo x fem!reader synopsis: just some headcanons about arranged marriage gojo! headcanons do follow a linear plot content: MDNI (18+ONLY), nsfw & sfw content, arranged marriage, p->v, oral (fem!receiving), pregnancy, breeding, not proofread because i'm lazy!!! a/n: i had a request to do a sort of expansion/sequel/prequel (?) on my business or pleasure fic, so... this is that. enjoy! and remember AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 2k (that's so much headcanon lmao)

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who reluctantly agrees to an arranged marriage when the clan decides it’s time to secure the lineage and make a new heir.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose jaw nearly drops when he sees you for the first time as you’re walking down the aisle. No way you’re that hot…

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s practically rocking on his feet waiting for the minister to give him permission to kiss you.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who drags said kiss on a little (a lot) longer than he needed to and spends the rest of the night wishing he’d dragged it on even longer.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s actually really pissed that there are so many damned guests at his wedding. All of them want to talk to him when all he really wants to do is talk to you!!!

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who only gets about three words into you the whole night and feels like pouting every time someone pulls him away from your arm.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finally relaxes a bit when the party’s over and he finally gets you alone.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who has a hard time keeping his hands to himself on the drive home.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who can’t help but stare at your lips as you answer his silly little questions about your favorite color and your favorite food.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who has to restrain himself from literally pulling you out of the car and up to his penthouse.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who suddenly finds himself a little nervous when he finally has you to himself. It’s his wedding night and he has to please his wife, right?

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who revels in tearing away your dress until he sees the lacy little white set you have on underneath.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who pins your wrists to the bed just so he can admire the way you look beneath him.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who nearly comes with no warning the first time he hears you moan his name. He decides it’s his sole purpose in life to make you moan like that as much as possible.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who is somehow both gentle and rough, who peppers you with kisses but rocks into you so good he has you seeing stars.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who thinks he ascends when you come around his cock and then ascends again when he remembers he married you and gets to see it for the rest of his life.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who makes sure to cum inside you and give you every last drop. After all, you have to make a new little Gojo heir, right?

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who holds you tightly to his chest until you drift off to sleep with your head atop his heart.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who takes the next two hours to be able to fall asleep himself, too hyped up on all the endorphins he’s feeling.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose brow furrows and stomach drops when he wakes the next morning to you not in his arms.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who scours the house for you and finds you in the living room reading, already having been up for hours.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose heart fractures a little bit when you greet him soooooo formally and tell him that there’s some breakfast in the fridge.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who spends far too long in the shower, letting the water run over him and trying to figure out where he went wrong.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who comes to the conclusion that he just needs to win you over a little more slowly, who smiles and thinks he knows exactly how to do it.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finds you still reading on the couch and tells you to get ready to go out– you’re going shopping.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who takes you to every designer shop he can think of and buys everything your eyes so much as graze over. Even if you tell him you don’t want it– he doesn’t care. You’re getting it.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose heart flutters in his chest when you smile at a pretty little necklace he buys you. It’s not the most expensive thing he’s bought you by far, but it makes you the happiest nonetheless.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s confused as to why you keep thanking him so profusely on the way home. His money is your money now… do you not know that?

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who makes a stop at the bank on the way home and gets you a flashy black credit card with your name (and new last name hehe) printed at the bottom. He loves the way your eyes widen and your lips part when he tells you there’s no limit.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who asks you what you want to do that night. Fly to Paris for dinner? Pack for a vacation to Bali? Maybe just a fancy meal at Tokyo’s most exclusive restaurant? He’s shocked when you say you’d prefer takeout and a movie on the couch, but all too happy to oblige.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who orders half the menu at your favorite ramen restaurant that he’s never heard of.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose eyes go wide when he takes the first bite and tells you it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who stares at your lips when you laugh and ask him, “really? The best?”

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s suddenly tugging your skirt down your thighs and burying his face between your legs. He takes one long lick and moans, saying that the ramen is now only second-best.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who thinks he could fuck you for hours on his couch, but stops after just a few rounds. He doesn’t want to tire his little baby out.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who savors the way you let him hold you after sex. Why couldn’t he hold you like this all day? So what if you’d just met– you’re his wife???

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who buries his face in your neck to memorize the moment, dreading the second you pull away from him.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who almost protests when you wrap a blanket around your body and pad off, saying you’re going to take a shower.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who debates cornering you in the bathroom for another round, if only so he can hold you again, but thinks better of it and cleans up your forgotten ramen instead.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who is completely exasperated when you never return to finish the movie. He finds you sitting in your shared bed, reading again.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose heart drops when you only look up long enough to give him a small smile instead of tumbling straight into his arms.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finds himself once again in the shower contemplating his existence.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who decides he’ll win you over one way or another, even if it takes longer than he originally intended…

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who climbs into bed next to you and slings an arm around your waist casually, like his heart isn’t hammering in his chest when he buries his face in his pillow.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who doesn’t truly fall asleep until you turn off your bedside lamp and lie down beside him. His heart does little skips when you don’t wiggle out from under his arm.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who wakes first in the morning this time to find you curled so tightly into his chest he’s sure his pounding heart is going to wake you.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose eyes turn into little hearts when you wake blushing after you realize how closely you’ve curled into him.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who tells you it’s okay and pulls you back into him and smirks when you can't see his face.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who spends the next few weeks buying you every knick and knack, every snack and meal, and bending you every surface in the house.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose eyes light up whenever he sees you wearing that little necklace he bought you on that very first shopping trip.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who buys you another necklace… this one with his initials dangling from the chain.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who makes you ride him so he can see his letters swaying from your neck as you come on his cock.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who spends every waking moment with you on his mind, who gets in a sticky situation while fighting more than once because he’s waiting for you to text him back or remembering all the nasty things he did to you last night.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finally takes a look at the pages of those books you like so much and realizes the pure filth his dirty little wife reads right beside him every night.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s not angry or put off, but rather excited. He uses it as a manual the next he has you under him and when he repeats a line verbatim from your book he laughs so loud at your shocked little blush that he’s sure you’re both getting a noise complaint in the morning.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who makes every effort to find out what you like (beyond reading smut) and buys you front row tickets to a concert for a band that you both happen to love.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who finds out your favorite movie series and takes three (unapproved) days off of work just to have a marathon with you.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who is having his morning coffee (full of cream and sugar and caramel sauce, of course) when you make your way into the kitchen with your lip pulled between your teeth.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo whose eyes blow wide when he sees a stick with two little pink lines and realizes he’s managed to knock you up on the first try.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who simply has to have you right then and there, bending you over the counter and groaning your name when he slides inside your cunt. He’s gentler this time, though. Can’t be too rough when his wife is pregnant, right?

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who goes overboard with his excitement and buys a new car the same day he finds out you’re pregnant. It’s practically a tank with all its safety features. He says you’re only allowed in that specific vehicle for the foreseeable future. Get used to it.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s all over you now. Whatever restraint he had before is gone now that you’re carrying his baby. He touches you… everywhere. All the time. It’s like it pains him to not have at least a smidgen of his skin on yours.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who keeps trying to win you over in the following weeks. He needs you. Not just your body, but your mind and your soul, too!

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who just lets it slip that he loves you when he’s balls deep in your cunt. Doesn’t even get embarrassed or flustered about it, just keeps pounding into you and whining about how much he loves you over and over again while he’s filling you up.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who lets the floodgates open after that. He tells you he loves you at every opportunity. It gets to the point where those three little words don’t even fluster you anymore, but you haven’t said them back. Not yet.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who waits patiently. He knows he’s getting to you, little by little. He’s sure he’ll hear you say it back soon.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who’s blindsided despite having convinced himself he’d be able to play it cool. He’s got you on the couch, wrapped up in his arms with his head on your tummy (he gets to hold you as much as he wants now hehe). You’re braiding his hair when you tell him that you love him.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who flushes the deepest shade of pink you’ve ever seen and pulls down his blindfold like he needs to see you say it again.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who begs to hear it again and again and again until he’s smiling so wide it's literally blinding.

Arranged Marriage! Gojo who thinks his arranged marriage was definitely the best thing to ever happen to him <3

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

#bree’s fics #jjk #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo #gojo smut #gojo headcanons #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen

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atrwriting · 4 months

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future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader

hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon

this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!

as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda

informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned

anyways… here is future problems:

he never wanted to get married.

he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.

despised them.

however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.

and it would be you.

he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.

it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.

he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.

however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.

at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.

but then… oh, then…

then he saw your smile.

oh, your smile.

your fucking smile.

the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.

no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.

no one.

when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.

and it was… until he was sick.

it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.

however, he did not expect one problem.

and that would be you.

he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.

he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?

so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.

just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.

he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —

but he couldn’t finish the thought.

because you walked in.

smelling like fucking lilacs.

lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.

however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.

he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.

“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”

“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”

you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.

he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.

“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”

you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”

you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”

you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.

he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.

however, he didn’t understand why.

he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?

he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.

and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.

however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?

his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.

he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.

he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!

he had to know. he had to.

to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.

as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.

"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."

you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"

"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."

you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?

"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."

why. why. why.

he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.

he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.

the act would drop. it always did.

the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.

and he fucking hated himself for it.

he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.

but you had kept reading for him.

he grew angry.

when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."

your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.

"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."

you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.

"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.

you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."

she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.

the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.

that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.

that would have to be righted immediately.

he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.

they always slip.

the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.

he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.

how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.

you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.

"good evening," you greeted.

"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.

"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.

he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"

your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."

you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."

you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."

he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"

your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”

your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?

so he went with what was natural: manipulation.

“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”

you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.

“what troubles you?” he asked.

your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.

“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”

“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”

there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.

“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”

your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.

“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”

“please,” he answered and nodded.

you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.

this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.

he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.

you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.

you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.

and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.

for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,

to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.

you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.

after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.

how had he not expected this?

his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.

he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.

he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.

he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.

good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.

he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.

so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.

he hated himself for the lilacs.

he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.

however, it didn’t.

all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.

she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.

he knew what he had to do.

he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.

he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.

he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.

you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”

“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.

“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”

you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.

“how do you like his new book?” you asked.

coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”

you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”

he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.

“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”

you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”

“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”

you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”

“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.

you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”

now was the time.

“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”

you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.

damn, he thought. didnt bite.

“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.

you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”

he nodded.

“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”

“i don’t understand.”

you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”

your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.

“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.

there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”

your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.

“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.

“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”

“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.

“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”

it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.

“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”

“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”

you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed

you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.

there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?

he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.

once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.

when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”

“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”

he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.

oh.

you invited him in to… to…

that he had not expected.

before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.

once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.

you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.

what was he to do?

he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.

the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.

would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?

you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.

he reasoned a reward was in order.

he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.

the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.

then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.

those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.

however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.

he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.

“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”

coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.

coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.

“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”

your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”

his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.

“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“

he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.

he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.

“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.

your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”

“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.

you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.

“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“

coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”

he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.

just this once, you both thought. just this once.

his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.

with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.

corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.

“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.

he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”

he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.

he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”

you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”

his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”

“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.

his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”

“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”

bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.

it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.

“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”

he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”

you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.

holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.

he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.

you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.

a low hum filled his chest.

you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.

that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.

maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.

you had to do something.

"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."

he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.

you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.

"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."

your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.

"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.

"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."

you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."

he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"

you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."

he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"

"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."

"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.

you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.

“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”

there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.

he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.

in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.

“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.

your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.

with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.

shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.

his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.

“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”

you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.

he cocked an eyebrow.

“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”

corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…

oh… you were done for.

one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.

the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.

“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”

his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.

“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”

“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”

“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”

“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.

the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —

“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”

tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —

“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“

there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.

“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”

“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”

you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.

it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.

tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.

his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.

“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.

“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”

you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“

“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.

you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“

he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.

“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”

you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”

he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”

you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."

you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”

“i promise,” you returned.

you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.

everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.

"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"

"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"

you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.

you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.

he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.

you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.

"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."

again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...

that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.

"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."

his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."

your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."

corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.

"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."

"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."

his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"

"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"

corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.

when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.

he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.

"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."

corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"

you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."

he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."

---

love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u

-L xooxoxooxox

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