#this turned out not as cursed as I thought it would be!
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Training for Two: pt. 5
Simon Riley x Dogsitter!Reader
<- Previous
Warnings: cursing, obsessive behaviour, pining, still pretty tame at the moment, a hint of angst?
A/N: Ugh I meant to post this sooner but work was kicking my butt - that and I'm a bit sleep deprived. I've got more in the works, though! Hope you all enjoy!
PS Running out of gifs to use so I'm using fan art and OMG I am obsessed with it all!!!!!
art by @sleepyconfusedpotato
The drive back to Simon's house was quiet and dark. Price had turned on the radio, letting classic rock play quietly in the background. He tapped the steering wheel every so often, humming to whatever lyrics he could remember.
Simon sat in the passenger seat, staring at the cars ahead, occasionally glancing at the signs that whizzed by the truck. Each sign that brought him closer to home made him ache. He thought about his bed. He thought about Riley. And, of course, he thought about you. He knew you most likely wouldn't be there - it was after midnight. But he liked to imagine that you'd be waiting there, sitting on his couch with your book and mug of tea, Riley settled next to you, ready to greet him with your smile - the smile that he'd been thinking about in every stolen moment during the mission.
"Alright there, Simon?" Price cut through the silence, dragging Simon back to earth.
He cleared his throat. "Yes sir. Jus' ready to be back."
Price scoffed. He knew Simon didn't consider his house a home. If anything, it was a safe house between missions. "I'm sure Riley will be happy to see you."
"We'll see about that." Simon said with a chuckle. "This dog-sitter might've stolen her from me."
"Nah, she's yours. Been with 'er through it all." Price said as he turned into Simon's neighborhood. "I'm sure she enjoyed the company, though."
Simon grunted. "Seems like it." He said, remembering the picture you had sent him; the way Riley had cozied up to you, the way she seemed so docile and calm in your presence. He imagined you running your fingers through her fur, the perfect ratio of scratching to gentle pets. He wondered what it would feel like on his scalp...
A shiver ran down his spine. How does one become jealous of their own damn dog? It was ridiculous.
"Speaking of the dog-sitter..." Price said, "Johnny mentioned she's a real-"
"Whatever Johnny told you, you can disregard." Simon grumbled. "I told him not to worry 'bout it."
Price chuckled, which made Simon burn with frustration. "Touchy subject, eh?"
"There's nothing to discuss." He replied bitterly. Quite frankly, he didn't like the picture Soap had managed to paint of him. His entire team thought he was whipped by someone he had barely known. Despite it being entirely true, it was the complete opposite of the image he had built of himself - and he had a reputation to keep.
"Right." Price nodded. Simon could tell he didn't believe him, but as long as he didn't try to pester him anymore about it, Simon would take it as a win.
Price pulled into the driveway, and Simon immediately unbuckled. He reached into the back and grabbed his duffel bag, then yanked his door open and got out.
"Y' know this isn't over." Price said, right before Simon could close the door. "We most likely 'ave a week 'fore we get sent out again. Just don't get too comfortable 'ere."
"Never do." Simon replied, shouldering his bag. "I'll wait for your call."
Price nodded, sending Simon off with a wave. He watched as he closed the passenger door and walked up the path to his house, before pulling out of the driveway and heading towards his own home.
Simon sighed as he fished his keys from his pocket. He heard Riley barking on the other side of the door, and a small smile formed on his face. When he pushed it open, she immediately jumped on him, whining and sniffing him all over. He knew she could smell the others on him, and probably wondered why he didn't bring her this time.
"Hey, girl..." he said, yanking his balaclava off and kneeling down to ruffle her fur. "Sorry I's gone so long. Miss me?"
She stood her front paws on his knees and licked his face, still whining and swinging her tail rapidly.
"Yeah, missed you too." He chuckled. "D'ya have fun? Did she treat you right?"
Riley dropped down to the floor as Simon stood. She turned towards his duffel bag and began sniffing, eyes focused on the fabric as she took in all the new and familiar scents.
Simon sighed. "'Bout time for a proper cuppa." He said, making his way into the kitchen. Despite it nearing one in the morning, it would be a while before he was decompressed enough to fall asleep.
He reached into the cupboard for a mug, ignoring the way his back popped. When he placed the mug down and reached for a teabag, he saw a note on the counter. With a furrowed brow, he picked it up and read it.
Hello Simon!
Hope your deployment was fun good! Riley and I had a blast! She learned how to play dead - if you want to try it, just make sure to give her a biscuit for it (she's only had one today, and she was a bit bitter that I left before giving her a second one). Also, she's had her medicine for the day. I gave her last dose around 9 pm.
Can't wait to spend more time with her, but I'm sure she's happy to see her dad! Let me know when you need me next!
Have a nice evening!
P.S. I had to use your washing machine, I hope that was alright. I got a bit muddy trying to teach her the new trick.
He stared at the note for a good amount of time. His eyes wandered over your meticulously neat handwriting. He noticed how often you liked to use exclamation points - the same way you did in your texts and emails. It made him annoyed - but not with you. He was annoyed that he found it... adorable. He shouldn't. You were too bright and happy; your personality should burn him, not warm him up.
He tried to brush it off, blaming his obervant behaviour on the recent mission. Old habits die hard, he lied to himself.
"Riley, c'mere."
Upon hearing her name, Riley meandered into the kitchen and stopped in front of Simon. She sat on her hind legs and looked at him expectantly.
He looked back at her - he felt a bit silly, commanding a retired veteran dog to do simple party tricks. But, it sounded like you put a lot of effort into teaching her this - not to mention, you had somehow dirtied your clothes over it - so he decided to entertain the idea.
"Play dead." He said firmly.
Riley immediately flopped down onto her back, sticking her paws into the air. She even let her tongue hang out of her mouth to really sell the image.
He felt an immediate rush of pride. "Atta girl..." he praised, kneeling down and patting her affectionately. Despite all the annoyance he felt a moment ago, Simon couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto his face.
She twisted and sat up, snuffling and groaning as he rubbed her fur. She barked once, sharp and demanding.
"Yeah, yeah- suppose you deserve a biscuit, huh?" He stood up and grabbed the box of peanut butter and bacon treats, fishing one out and tossing it to Riley. She caught it perfectly, crunching it with an open mouth and licking her lips afterwards.
He watched her with a smile, his arms folded over his chest. Sure, tricks were dumb, something only glorified house pets did for small rewards. But he was impressed that Riley had so effortlessly followed a new command, especially after being out of work for so long. And he was warmed by the fact that, not only did you watch her, but you engaged with her. He was confident he'd found the perfect pet-sitter.
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After starting a load of laundry, Simon had taken a cold shower. He scrubbed his eyeblack off with nothing but his hands and the generic body wash from the corner store. He slathered some of his 3-in-one hair gel into his scalp, giving it no more than seven scrubs before rinsing it out. He stood there for a while, letting the water beat against his sore back as the details of the previous mission swarmed throughout his head. He picked apart what he could have done better, what had nearly gotten him killed, and what had probably saved his life.
His eyes flickered to the corner of the tub; there was a cluster of travel-sized bottles, labeled "face wash", "body butter", and so forth. He let himself imagine - who was he kidding, he had no control over his thoughts when it came to you - your body, standing under the stream of the shower. You probably liked hot showers, didn't you? You most likely stayed in there for an hour, going through your meticulous routine, lathering yourself in scented soaps and creams... you'd be appalled if you had seen the three-minute showers he takes, wouldn't you? Maybe you would pull him into your routine, once Simon did eventually get the balls to ask you out, despite how much the thought of being romantic with someone made him scoff. He'd let you wash his face, or shave his balls, or do whatever it is you would do to him.
He suddenly snapped out of his trance, realizing he was holding one of the bottles labeled "conditioner". His thumb was on the edge of the cap, ready to flip it open and take a whiff of the scent - but he quickly stopped himself. He put the bottle back with the rest, then splashed cold water over his face. Quit being a fuckin' creep... he thought.
After turning the shower off and drying himself with a towel, he went into his room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants. He made his way back into the basement, patting Riley on the back as he passed her by the door. He pulled his laundry out and placed it on top of the washing machine, and opened the dryer. Just as he was getting ready to toss his clothes in, he noticed something hiding in the back of the barrel of the machine.
He reached in and pulled it out - it was your flannel. The same green-and-grey one you'd been wearing during your interview.
He paused for a moment, posture rigid as he held the fabric in the air. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it. It was just a flannel... but it was your flannel. He fought with his muscles, resisting the urge to bring it closer and inhale the scent - he tried to reason with himself. Maybe she used my soap, and it would just smell like my detergent. Nothin' special.
He dropped it on top of the dryer, still wrinkly and warm - but, strangely, that felt too rude. It's a fucking piece of clothing, for Christ's sake... he thought. Not her dead nan. He then attempted to hang it on the rack, but that felt too formal. He groaned, rubbing his eyes with irritation. How something so insignificant was causing him so much turmoil was beyond him.
He ended up bringing it back upstairs. Riley sniffed the fabric as he passed her - she thumped her tail eagerly on the floor as she smelled your scent. Once again, Simon was jealous of the dog being able to act so carefree with you - he knew for sure that if he tried sniffing your flannel, he would be a certified creep. Or, worse yet, he might not care, and wouldn't be able to stop himself.
He tossed it over the back of the couch, planning on forgetting you had ever even worn it. He dropped himself onto the cuhions with a groan. Riley immediately took her place in her bed, just a few feet away from him. He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned on the telly, flicking through the channels until he found some action/drama that caught his interest. He watched it boredly, drowning himself and his thoughts in the drone of the movie.
Suddenly, Riley barked. Simon looked at her - his gaze was met with hers, mouth opening and tail thwapping against the wall.
"Hmm?"
She let out an impatient, garbled sound. She lowered her head to the edge of her bed, still looking at Simon.
He shrugged internally and looked back at the screen. He settled further into the cushions and let his eyes fall shut. He thought about maybe drifting off then and there - the din of the telly might help keep the nightmares at bay...
Riley barked again, making Simon jolt. He snapped his head towards her - she was standing at the foot of the couch, ears back and panting.
"Wha' d'you want?" He asked in an annoyed tone.
She barked again, shifting her weight from one paw to the other.
"Ya need to go out?" He asked. He stood from his seat, only for Riley to scamper back to her bed and plop down on it. She looked at him expectantly.
Simon huffed. "'M not following." He dropped down to the sofa again. Riley groaned, making a scene of dragging herself out of the bed again and walking over to Simon.
"Now, don't you go 'n start aga-"
She cut him off with a shrill yap.
He pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew it couldn't be time for her medication - you had just given her some at nine. But he was entirely stumped on what she was trying to communicate to him. Was she hungry? She wasn't usually, after she'd had dinner... did she want to play? But... she was acting like she wanted to go to bed.
"What are you on 'bout?" He asked, leaning down to ruffle her fur. She dodged his hand and backed up a bit, yowling out a frustrated sound.
He scoffed. "Fuckin' hell..." he mumbled, pulling his phone from his pocket. Only one way to fix this, he thought, as he tapped through his contacts, until he landed on yours.
He stared at the picture for a moment, familiarizing himself with the details he had spent so long ogling at: your smile, your damp hair, the curve of your cheekbones, the way you marked your spot in your book with your fingers-
Riley barked again, making Simon scowl.
"A'right- just hush." He ordered, sending her a stern glance as she shuffled back to her bed. He started the call - he felt unusually nervous, his gut twisting as he listened to each ring on the line. Maybe he really was whipped, he thought.
Eventually, the call picked up. His shoulders tensed as he heard shuffling on the other end of the line.
"... m... hello?"
Fuck. You sounded tired- no, you sounded like you were still asleep. He quickly pulled the phone away and checked the time; it was nearly two in the morning. Of course you'd been asleep.
"Uh... hey." He said, mentally cursing himself. "Shit, I, uh... didn't even consider you might be asleep."
"No..." You mumbled - were you even awake at all? "No, iz fine... yeah..."
Simon waited a moment, expecting you to say something else - but you didn't. Eventually, he heard the soft sounds of your breathing again.
"Hello?" He asked cautiously.
"Up... 'm up... what's up?"
Simon shifted in his seat, slightly ashamed that he hadn't put two and two together and ended up calling you so late. "Right- jus' a quick-"
Riley barked again, staring at Simon impatiently.
Simon covered the speaker to his phone and sent her a harsh glare. "Oi! 'M workin' on it, hush!"
Your sleepy giggle wafted through the phone and into Simon's ear. "Sweet baby..."
Simon's breath caught in his throat, and he coughed nervously. She means the dog, the fucking dog, you idiot.
"Uh, sorry- jus' got a question for ya."
"Hmm?"
"Well- she's acting a bit funny," he stared at Riley and held a cautioning hand up as she shifted her weight and whined, "she's runnin' around and yellin' at me. Keeps gettin' in 'er bed, then comin' back like- like she wants somethin'. I have no bloody idea. Just wonderin' if she was doin' this with you."
"Oh, yeah..." Simon could hear your smile through the phone, and he desperately tried to push the image of your tired face from his mind. "She wants her blanket."
Simon paused. "She- she's got her blanket."
"No- she wants you to tuck her in."
"She wha' now?"
You laughed again. "You need to tuck her in her bed. She's right under the air vent and she gets cold."
He looked back at Riley. She was now sitting down, mouth closed, as if agreeing with what you said. He scoffed, rising from the couch and shuffling towards her. She slowly thumped her tail as he approached.
"Never 'eard of a dog gettin' tucked in..." he grumbled. He grabbed the felt blanket behind her, swaddling it around her body. She groaned, slowly blinking at him in an appreciative manner.
"Ya spoiled, you hear me?" He said quietly, tucking the blanket in between her and the cushion of the bed. She sighed happily, completely unaware that he was insulting her. She licked his cheek when he bent down close enough, and he grumbled and wiped the spittle away.
You giggled in his ear - Christ, you've got to stop doing that, do you have any idea what it does to him? - as he sat back down on the sofa. "All better?" You asked.
"Seems t' be-" he replied, watching Riley as she settled into her cocoon, "ya turnin' her into a princess."
"Well, she is one." You quickly replied - Simon could hear you stretching your limbs, followed by a long exhale.
He wanted to talk to you all night. Hearing you prattle on was like a balm to his jagged mind. But he knew he couldn't. You were half asleep, after all.
"Well, tha's all I needed- oh, and you, uh..." he grabbed your flannel off the back of the sofa. "Y' left your flannel here."
"I did?"
"Yeah. The green one."
"Oh, bullocks, I knew I-"
"Who are you talking to at this hour?"
Simon felt his heart stop when he heard the other voice. It had hit him like a train, flooding his veins with adrenaline. His brain went into overdrive, thinking of the worst possible scenario. Break in? Crazy stalker? Murderous ex? "Y' aright, love?"
"Simon." You said, and he couldn't tell if you were talking to him or someone else. Were you trying to warn him? To ask for help?
"Talk to me."
"Who the bloody hell is Simon?"
"My client, ya git."
"Oh- sorry love-" Simon heard more shuffling, then a kiss, followed by a grunt from you. He let himself linger in the confusion of what was going on - but, in the back of his mind, he understood it completely.
"Got me right in my bloody eye-"
"Oh, hush."
"Left your flannel at his house."
"My green one?"
"Yeah."
"I thought you were using the grey one!"
"Well, I was, Tyler, and then I wanted the green one!"
"That's it - I'm stealin' all ya knickers tomorrow."
You laughed again - this time. The sound nearly shattered Simon. He felt like it was wrong to hear you laugh so sweetly.
"Well, uh-" he was speaking before he even realized it. "You can pick it up- or I'll drop it off- or, uh, I can drop it- I mean, I'll-"
"You can shove it in the closet until next time, if that's alright?" You said, yawning shortly after.
Simon paused. He needed to get it together. "Yea, that'll work. I'll let you go then - sorry to call so late."
"It's fine, really. But let me know when you'll need me again, ok?"
"'Course I will. I'll send you an email, as usual."
You scoffed. "I know you said we should only text for emergencies, but you can text me if it's something small, Simon."
"Right, will do. I'll text you."
"Is everything ok?"
"It's fine. You should sleep. I'll talk later."
"Ok. Goodnight, Simon."
"G'bye."
He ended the call, staring at the screen for a moment, until your contact photo faded away. He leaned his head back and sighed. His thoughts suddenly came rushing back - except this time, they were about you. How he should have expected you to have a partner. How could you not? You were so bright and bubbly, of course you'd be snatched up. He felt stupid for thinking you'd be single. Maybe this whole idea of you falling for him was stupid. Maybe this was better - he was saved from rejection, even if this situation stung painfully within his chest.
Whatever. Hopefully, your personality would finally drive him over the edge of annoyance and anger, and you'd be more of a nuisance to him. That'd be the easiest way you could let him down.
He looked at the flannel in his lap. It's not even hers. He thought. He crumpled the fabric into his hand and flung it behind him.
Riley's head snapped up at the movement, and she floundered out of her bed, chasing after the flannel.
"Riley, no- don't-" he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard her scuffling across the floor. He kept his eyes closed as he heard her come trotting back, before she stopped at the edge of the couch.
She whined and tilted her head. Simon opened his eyes and looked at her.
"That's not even hers, ya ninny." He said. He looked away and turned up the telly, hoping that everything in his head would just disappear into the back of his mind.
Riley stepped around Simon's feet as she carried the flannel in her mouth. She then hopped onto the couch and settled next to Simon, depositing the (now damp) clothing onto his lap. He grunted as she laid her head down on his leg, whining and flattening her ears. She looked up at him with curious eyes, slowly thumping her tail on the cushion.
He exhaled through his nose. He stared at the flannel, then back at Riley. "Ya really like her, eh?"
She licked her lips and blinked, sighing through her nose.
He chuckled, patting her side and looking at the ceiling. "I know. I do too." He closed his eyes.
"We'll be alright, girl."
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Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae @cum-tea-and-towels @boystepper @definitelynotaclown @your-wifes-boyfriend @ghostslittlegf @bossva @poppingaround @katzykat @mileyraes @chocolate-noodles @jupiternighties @sadlonelybagel @rorysbrainrot @reevesdriver @kingshitonly @ghost4love @lilyofhoon
Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost#simon ghost riley#cod fanfiction#cod mw3#cod mw2#call of duty#cod#cod x reader
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They say Captain Munson has a gift. That he’s blessed by a god’s touch.
His ship has survived every battle. His crew flourishes with bounty, with health and good fortune. He steers them unerringly through every storm, sailing directly into the gargantuan waves, into the lightning and rain, and comes out the other side pristine while other vessels would have been sunk, snapped and splintered on the ocean floor, crew turned to ghosts to haunt the waters.
They say he made a deal, sold his soul, sold his crew’s souls, will find his reckoning one day at the end of a sword or drowned in the sea he loves so much. They say he’s a devil of his own, that his eyes glow red and black and his teeth are sharp and fanged, nails clawed, that he slaughters innocents and bathes in their blood.
But the truth is much simpler. Captain Munson is no devil, he did not sell any souls, and he certainly isn’t blessed by any god.
Captain Munson fell in love.
He didn’t mean to. When the fishing nets are reeled in that fateful day he expects nothing more than a few meals, a couple pounds to send to the kitchens for Benny to work his magic with. He isn’t even on deck when the catch is brought in.
It’s Gareth’s frantic voice that draws him upwards, his shouting and knocking on his cabin door that has him strapping a sword to his hip before taking the stairs two at a time to see the threat.
He’s expecting a King’s ship. Maybe another pirate.
He isn’t expecting a mer.
Pale, unconscious, bleeding, sprawled on the deck, plush and soft and gorgeous, tan torso tapering down into a huge, shimmering tail. He’s breathing but it’s shallow, weak, a shell on a necklace moving faintly with each hitch of his chest.
And the crown. A simple circlet, golden and shining, tangled in his chestnut hair, gems glinting from the locks.
Mers are mythical, believed to be stories by some and history by others, but Eddie grew up hearing the tales of them every night from his mother, and the evidence is right in front of them - how can they do anything but believe?
It takes three of them to move him below deck. Eddie grips him under his arms, Gareth supports his hips, and Jeff wrangles his tail. They take him to Eddie’s quarters, the only bed big enough to fit him.
He wakes in stages, delirious from pain, snapping teeth and swinging claws when he has the strength for it and slurring rambling words when he doesn’t, head lolling on the pillow, eyes rolling back.
His injuries are strange - a band of dark bruising around his pretty throat, his back shredded, bites taken out of the dips of his sides and the meat of his tail. There’s sickness in him, but Joyce is patient. She patches him up, soothes the mer’s fever and stitches the wounds she can, bandages what she can’t, keeps it all clean, keeps it wet because apparently that’s what he needs - salt water, which makes Eddie cringe in sympathy, but only seems to ease the mer’s pain, not make it worse.
It’s a week before those pretty eyes blink open with genuine awareness in them, sharp and wary. Eddie’s taken to sitting at the mer’s side, feels a strange responsibility to him that he doesn’t want to look too closely at, and he glances up from his journal to find the other’s gaze locked on him.
“Where am I?” he croaks out, and Eddie smiles, snapping the journal shut.
“You’re aboard the Hellfire, sweetheart. Captain Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows in his seat, and it goes over about as well as he thought it would.
There’s a lot of threats and snarling and cursing, but Eddie simply leans back, out of the mer’s reach as he crowds himself into the corner of the mattress, back pressed to the wall and sheets tangled around his tail.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he tries to soothe, and the mer scoffs. Eddie can’t blame him for his caution, but he tells him the honest truth - where he was found, the state of him, how they’ve nursed him back to health.
The mer’s hand hovers over one of the nastier wounds at his side, covered in gauze, dampened with saltwater. When he cuts his eyes back to Eddie there’s a little less animosity in his gaze, and Eddie will take what he can get.
Eventually he pulls a name from that snarling mouth. Stephan. “Prince Stephan,” he begrudgingly admits once Eddie points out the crown that he’d gently worked free of his hair.
And he’s a mer, but different.
“Siren, is what I believe your kind calls mine,” Stephan says, “half and half. Mer and human.”
“Human,” Eddie muses, and Stephan confesses, warily, haltingly - he’s the King’s bastard son. Born to King Richard of the land and the Mer Queen of the sea.
“And how did the Prince of the Mer find his way into my net, hm?” Eddie asks, smiling, and Stephan rolls his eyes at him.
He’s a runaway. King Richard had come looking for his son and with his mother’s blessing Stephan abandoned his title, his home, because the King would find him eventually if he stayed, and whatever dangers he might face in the open sea would be nothing compared to what the King might use his gifts for.
“Gifts?” Eddie asks, and Stephan smiles, his pointed teeth glinting.
It’s a clear day, not a cloud to be seen, no sign of rain or bad weather. And yet as Steve begins to hum softly, a shadow crosses overhead.
It happens slowly. Stephan’s voice builds, a wordless little melody, something melancholy and soft, and the sky beyond the windows of the cabin darkens. Thunder rolls and in the distance, Eddie can see a crack of lightning.
The ship rocks as waves begin to form, the once-smooth water taking a turn. Eddie can hear the crew above deck begin to shout to one another, confusion building, growing more insistent as Stephan’s song grows, and Eddie’s stomach drops.
The siren’s voice is haunting, terrifying. Eddie’s frozen in place, meeting his eyes even as tears well in his own. He’s transfixed, can’t move, can’t speak, paralyzed with some ancient, instinctual knowing of danger, of death.
Eddie does not scare easy. But this is terror personified. This is the true threat that lives in the sea. Not the waves, not man, this. This creature who smiles at him with sharp teeth and a haunting voice, reaching towards Eddie with a clawed hand, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear in a touch that makes Eddie’s skin crawl and his heart skip and dread sink into his very bones.
He’s staring death in the face, and death is smiling.
Then Stephan quiets, and it’s over as quickly as it had begun. The sky clears in moments. The waters calm. The vessel’s heaving calms, and Eddie’s spine unlocks.
He stares at the being before him, amazed, before a slow, brilliant smile breaks over his face.
“Full of surprises, aren’t you, Prince Stephan?” he asks, and gets a smile in return.
“Call me Steve,” he tells him, and fondness begins to worm its way into Eddie’s chest.
“Then call me Eddie.” He sees Steve’s eyes flutter, and he tilts his head. “You’re tired,” he tells him, and gets a huff in response. “You’re safe here, Steve,” he tells him, and he knows he doesn’t trust him, not fully, not yet, but that’s okay. “Rest. I’ll keep an eye on you.”
Steve watches him warily, but clearly the little display has worn him out. His hand finds that same wound on his side, cradling it carefully, back shifting like it hurts to sit up straight and stretch all that marred skin.
“Lay a hand on me, and I’ll eat you,” Steve warns, and Eddie snorts a laugh.
“Whatever you say, highness,” and he tugs the sheets back into place over that large tail, and lets the mer get the rest he still clearly needs.
part 2 coming soon 💕 no tag lists, sorry!
#steddie#mermay#merman steve harrington#siren steve harrington#pirate eddie munson#stevexeddie#steve/eddie#mine
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Will It Patch Your Broken Wings?
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel is feeling insecure one night and cheats on Reader. She is absolutely devastated and wants nothing to do with him, but he is determined to show her how much he loves her.
Inspired by the love triangle in Taylor Swift’s betty/august/cardigan
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: angst, cheating, swearing
Word Count: 6.3k
Betty, I know where it all went wrong
Your favorite song was playing
From the far side of the gym
I was nowhere to be found
I hate the crowds, you know that
Plus, I saw you dance with him
Azriel tucked his wing in tighter as you led him through Rita’s, your hand in his, a bounce in your step. You loved it here: the energy, the dancing, the music.
Azriel, on the other hand, really only went along because he loved you.
The music was pounding in Azriel’s mind, overwhelming his senses. He could normally block it out and will his body to be loose enough to attempt to dance with you, but today had been a particularly long day in which he had to… secure information from some traitors.
He didn’t let his memory go past that, not when he was with you. But it had been a day. A terrible day.
You were dancing now, like you were born to do it, like you didn’t care at all who was watching. You turned to him, a bright smile lighting up your face, and he couldn’t help but soften at the sight, feeling comforted by your effortless radiance.
He would never understand why you had chosen him. He was thankful of course, but he was willing to admit the two of you sometimes seemed like an unlikely pair. You were bright and bubbly, lighting up every room -- a direct juxtaposition to his shadows, his darkness, his tendency to be stoic and silent.
Watching him stay completely still in the middle of the crowd, your face fell, and you sidled up to him, craning your neck to look him in the eyes as you got closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Are you okay? We can go home if you want.”
Azriel smiled faintly at you, dipping his head to give you a quick kiss. “Long day. You can dance. I’m going for a drink.”
You nodded, but still eyed him warily for a moment, gaze lingering on his swirling shadows, before turning back to the dance floor.
By the time Azriel got his drink (the strongest they had), you were fully engrossed in a song that he realized was one of your favorites. He watched as you writhed on the middle of the dance floor, swaying your hips, a bright smile on your face.
A male came up to you then, taking your hand and twirling you under his arm. You laughed brightly before moving away from him, dancing on your own once again.
Azriel couldn’t stop his heart from plummeting. That’s the kind of male she should be with, he thought. The kind that goes to a normal job and comes home without shadows or demons to chase away in his mind. The kind that can dance and twirl and laugh with you without a care in the world.
He watched as you danced and danced, occasionally dancing with a random male for a moment before moving on.
She deserves better than you. She always has.
His breath was coming faster and faster now, the music pounding in his ears, through his skull, all that heat from so many bodies closing in on him. He had to get out, had to stretch his wings, had to get out.
Azriel shoved through the crowd and burst through the doors, out into the cool night, stretching out his wings and breathing deeply. He cursed himself. He was normally better than this, better at maintaining his emotions, his panic. By the Cauldron, he was the Night Court’s spymaster and he couldn’t handle an evening in a nightclub with his lover.
Pathetic. That’s what he was.
“Are you okay?” a light, sing-songy voice broke through his rumbling thoughts.
He turned to see a very pretty High Fae woman. She was dressed a bit like Mor, he couldn’t help thinking, wearing a thin red dress that showed off all her assets, her light brown hair cascading down past her shoulders.
She gave him a look that he hadn’t seen, or at least paid attention to, from a stranger in a very long time.
He blinked. “Honestly? I don’t think so.”
Her lips slowly curved up into a sultry smile. “Anything I would be able to help you with?”
No. No, you cannot help me. I don't think anybody can.
She watched him, her eyes sparkling with mischief, before she tilted her head for him to follow.
And Mother save him, he did.
---
And I can see us twisted in bedsheets
August sipped away like a bottle of wine
'Cause you were never mine.
Your heart had been pounding, your body trembling, ever since you realized that Azriel was nowhere to be found.
Something must have happened to him. It was the only explanation. He wouldn’t just leave you without a word.
But, what could have possibly happened to the shadowsinger, in Velaris, of all places?
Your hand shook as you raised it to pound on the door of the river house.
Rhysand was the one who answered, shirtless, hair a mess. He looked very unhappy to see you.
“I need you to find Azriel,” you nearly shouted before he could scold you.
He sobered immediately, noticing your distress. “What do you mean?”
You explained to him what had happened, that he had seemed off at Rita's, that he told you he was going to get a drink, then vanished. You had assumed that he had been lingering on the outskirts of the dance floor, and didn't notice for quite some time that he had left completely.
“I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation,” he said soothingly. “Did you check your apartment?”
You nodded. He wasn't there, at the home he shared with you. “And the townhouse.”
Rhysand's violet eyes were contemplative. Hesitating.
“Can't you just…feel for him or whatever?”
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah. I can.”
“Then do it!”
Rhysand's eyes went unfocused after a beat, and when they widened again in surprise, you knew he had found him.
“What is it? Is he okay?”
“He's… at a random apartment. At least it's not one that I recognize.”
Your heart lurched. “What? Why?”
Rhys shrugged, his expression darkening. “Okay. Shit. Wait here, I'll go tell Feyre what's going on and take you to him.”
Rhysand came back a moment later, now in his normal black attire, and winnowed you in front of an apartment complex not far from Rita's. You had certainly never been here before. The silence was agony as you followed Rhys up the stairs, to the door.
He glanced back at you, a question in his eyes. You shook your head and he knocked, the sound rattling around in your skull.
You heard shuffling, giggling, and then.
Then.
A woman answered the door. A beautiful woman who was wearing Azriel's shirt.
A woman who was wearing your lover’s shirt and nothing else.
Your knees nearly buckled. You tasted bile in your mouth. You were going to be sick.
She cocked her head to the side. “Yes?”
Rhysand was deathly still, his power rippling from him, darkening the doorway. You remained behind him, but you had to know. Had to know for sure.
So you peeked around Rhysand's shoulder, further into the woman's apartment.
And saw Azriel, bare chested, lying in her bed, the sheets bunched up at his waist, his wings drooping on the ground, his hand tucked under his head, staring at the ceiling, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You barely had time to spin around before you entered your stomach in the hallway.
---
The worst thing that I ever did
was what I did to you.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Az?” Rhysand's voice boomed from the door the woman had just answered.
Hearing such a familiar voice in such an unfamiliar setting was initially what shocked Azriel enough that he nearly fell out of bed.
Then it hit him.
Rhysand was here.
No no no no no no--
Azriel scrambled up out of the woman's bed, frantically searching for his pants and tugging them on.
“I-”
“Don't answer that.” Rhysand spat, and it was then that Azriel realized Rhys was holding you upright as both of you lingered in the doorway.
His heart stopped working. His mind stopped working.
He said your name, but it came out more like a croak.
You were trembling in Rhysand's arms, tears sliding down your cheeks.
What had he done what had he done what had he done--
Azriel took a step forward, but you recoiled, and he knew you would've fallen to the ground if Rhysand hadn't been holding you.
You looked… afraid of him. Not just hurt, not just disgusted, but actually afraid.
He said your name again, his voice and his heart breaking, but you turned to Rhysand and said in the smallest voice he'd ever heard, “Get me away from him.”
Rhysand shot you one last withering glance before he winnowed out of sight, taking you with him.
It was silent for a moment, until the woman said, “If I'd known you were such an asshole, I never would have done this.”
Azriel sank to his knees and wept.
---
You drew stars around my scars
But now I'm bleeding.
Back at the river house, Feyre was holding you as your body continued to shake, silent tears continued to fall, while Rhysand paced back and forth, rage radiating off of him.
“Azriel?” Feyre asked, wide eyed. “Our Azriel?”
“He's certainly not mine anymore,” you sniffed, and Feyre winced, shooting you an apologetic glance, holding you a little tighter.
“I can't believe it,” Rhys said, still pacing in the spare room where they had set you up for the night. “I cannot believe him.”
There was a knock on the door of the house and you froze. You all knew who it was.
You looked at Rhys, your eyes pleading.
“I won't let him in,” he said, his expression softening as he turned to you. “I'll ward the fucking house against him if I have to,” he growled, mostly to himself, as he retreated to send him away.
You leaned further into Feyre, grateful for your friends.
For his friends, you realized. His family.
They were on your side now, but you knew where their allegiance would ultimately lie.
In losing Azriel, you would lose your family, too.
Sobs racked your body then, and Feyre held on tight, settling her cheek on the top of your head.
You thought of all the walls Azriel had broken down around your heart, all the promises he had made about love and forever. All the broken pieces of you that you had let him see, that he had helped you heal.
But it was all a lie.
You couldn't stop seeing it -- the woman, naked except for his shirt; Azriel, naked in her bed.
You wept and wept until there was absolutely nothing left of you.
---
A friend to all is a friend to none
Chase two girls, lose the one.
Azriel had come to the river house twice a day for the past three days.
Each time, Rhysand opened the door, molten hot rage in his eyes, and told him to leave, that you weren’t ready yet. Azriel couldn’t blame him.
He knew there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to make it better. To make you better. He could try to explain what he had been feeling that night, but it wouldn’t matter, not really. It was all excuses, and he knew it.
Azriel had destroyed everything. And now he just had to watch as his world burned down.
Letting out a shuddering sigh, he knocked on Rhysand’s door, expecting to see his pissed off brother again, but it was Feyre who appeared.
He had never seen his High Lady look so disappointed. He hated that it was directed at him.
“How could you do it?” she said, crossing her arms, leaning against the doorway.
Azriel felt tears prickling his eyes, and willed them not to fall. “I never felt like I deserved her,” he said quietly.
“Well you definitely don’t now.”
He winced. “I know. I just -- I want to see her. How is she?”
Feyre furrowed her brow, furious. “How is she? She hasn’t left her room since she got here. Elain’s been forcing water down her throat so she doesn’t shrivel up and die, that’s how she is.”
Azriel swallowed, trying to steady his shaking hands. He felt like he was drowning. He wished he would, if it meant that it would make you stop feeling like that. “Do you think she’ll talk to me?”
She studied him, her mouth a hard, thin line. Finally, she turned, heading inside and he followed her, his knees wobbling.
When they made it to your door, she knocked softly, saying through the door, “He’s here.”
Azriel held his breath until the door opened, slowly.
And when he saw you, he couldn’t breathe. You looked… devastating. Your eyes were red and swollen, you were pale, your hair was a mess.
It was his fault. He had done this to you. He felt sick.
Your eyes were hollow when you looked at him, like you didn’t feel anything at all.
“Do you want me to stay?” Feyre asked you quietly.
You shook your head, your eyes darting away from Azriel. Feyre shot him a warning glare before she reluctantly went down the hallway.
You turned, moving to sit on the bed that looked like it hadn’t been made in days, every movement you made looking wary, exhausted. Destroyed. Your eyes were fixed on your hands in your lap, unwilling to look at him.
Azriel lingered just inside the room, feeling uncomfortable in his skin. He longed to hold you in his arms, to kiss your pain away.
He said your name, willing you to look at him. You flinched.
It felt like a punch to the gut. Azriel wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
“I am so, so sorry,” he rasped.
You shook your head, not looking up. “How could you do this, Az? How could you do this to me?” Your voice cracked when you said his name.
Tears started to fall down his own cheeks as he said, “I… don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I saw you dancing with those males, looking so carefree, and I didn’t feel like I fit into that part of your life. I’ve always felt like you deserved someone better than me, someone… easier.”
Finally, you looked up at him, and he wished you hadn’t. Your eyes were full of fury. And hurt. He had never seen you like that before. “You cheated on me because I danced with some guys for two seconds?”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Azriel tried.
“You think I wanted somebody like them? Somebody easier?”
Azriel opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I thought--”
“I wanted you,” you spat, and he recoiled at the hurt in your voice, at the pain in your eyes that he had put there. “All I ever wanted was you.”
He couldn't breathe. His voice came out weaker than he had ever heard it, “I'm sorry. It was a mistake, I'm a miserable, miserable fool. I want you. You're all I want.”
You laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. “How can you even say that after what you did?”
“I know, you’re right,” he sighed, raking a scarred hand through his hair, his shadows dancing around his arms. “It doesn’t make sense, what I did. It was stupid and awful, and the worst thing that I’ve ever done, and I am so so sorry,” he said, taking a step forward, reaching his hand out to take yours.
“Don’t touch me,” you spat, wrenching your hand away.
He blinked, taking a step back, his heart in his throat.
“You said you loved me,” you said, your voice now barely a whisper, as if all your energy had been completely drained. “You said you wanted to be with me forever. Did you ever mean any of it?”
“Of course I did,” he said softly. “I still do. I love you. I want you.”
You sniffed, putting your head in your hands. “Well. You should’ve thought of that before you fucked her.”
He blanched at your tone, at your language. He didn’t think you’d ever said that word before, at least not around him.
“Please,” he said, his voice breaking, as he knelt down in front of you, trying to meet your eyes. “Please, what can I do? What can I do to fix this?”
Your eyes rose to meet his. You took in the sight, the shadowsinger kneeling before you, begging for your forgiveness. “You can’t fix it,” you said, seething. “You left me. You abandoned me at Rita’s. Do you have any idea how that felt? I thought something horrible had happened to you!”
Azriel tightened his jaw. He hadn’t known, hadn’t even thought about--
“And then to see you. With her. In her bed,” you broke off, looking at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears from falling, he knew.
“I’m sorry.” It was all he could say. His tears were flowing down his cheeks now and he hastily wiped them away, not wanting to take his eyes off you for fear that you would vanish.
After a long moment, you leveled your gaze on him again. “Would you have told me? If I wasn’t worried sick, if I had just gone home, and waited for you to stumble on in, would you have told me? Or would you just keep acting like everything was fine, knowing that you had just betrayed me?”
Azriel swallowed hard. He thought about the guilt he had felt immediately, how he was contemplating what the hell he was going to tell you as he was staring at that ceiling before Rhysand had knocked. “I would’ve told you,” he said, his voice husky. “I was going to tell you.”
You scoffed, shaking your head, looking anywhere but him. “I don’t even know why I asked. How can I trust anything you say?”
“I don’t know. But it’s true,” he said, shifting on his knees, wishing he could reach for your hand.
Hiding your face in your hands, you said, barely audibly, “I hate you. I hate you for doing this to me and making me feel like this.”
Azriel’s heart finally shattered completely. He knew he would never be able to put the pieces back together, as long as he lived. He had done this to you, his beautiful, bubbly, happy love. Reduced to this. To hating him. And he couldn’t even blame you.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you.”
“Stop saying that,” you cried.
“It’s true. It’s all I’ve got. I won’t try to make excuses, I’m just … I’m sorry. And I love you. I’ll never stop loving you.”
You sniffled, and took your hands away from your face, looking to the ceiling once again, like you were steeling yourself to say what you were about to. “I never want to see you again,” you said, weakly. “You can have the apartment. Elain and Nesta are packing my things right now.”
Azriel shook his head, his panic rising, “No, no, you don’t have to--”
“I do,” you cut him off. “It’s done, Az. We’re done,” you rose off the bed and went to the washroom, looking unsteady on your feet. “You can go now.”
You shut yourself in behind the closed door, and it was five hundred years of will and training that carried his legs out of the river house, and out of your life forever.
Azriel took to the sky, flying and flying, the wind biting at his skin, at his eyes. He kept picturing your heartbroken expression, the words you spoke to him.
He didn't stop flying until he made it to the depths of the Illyrian mountains, where he knew he would be well and truly alone.
Spotting a flat section nestled between several mountains, he landed in the snow, barely stopping long enough to punch the mountainside. It was stupid, he knew, he was more likely to break his hand than blow off any of this steam, but he had to do something to stop this pain, this panic, this despair that he could blame on nobody but himself.
He had lost you. He had lost the love of his life forever because he couldn't overcome his fears. He had been so scared that he wasn't good enough for you that he made sure that it was true.
Grunting, he punched the mountainside over and over again until his knuckles bled, and then he punched it some more. Tears froze on his cheeks, the wind chilling him to the bone.
Az was dimly aware of someone landing behind him, so hard it shook the ground beneath his feet. He kept punching.
“You're not going to solve your problems out here,” Cassian called to him.
Finally, Azriel halted, turning around to face his brother. “You know, we have better things to punch,” Cassian added.
Azriel scowled, sinking into the snow, exhausted.
Cassian strode over to him, plopping down a few feet away, hissing at the cold now sleeping through his pants. He studied Azriel, seemingly waiting for him to speak.
“She hates me,” Azriel whispered finally. “She said she never wants to see me again.”
Cassian sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Fuck.”
Azriel could only nod sadly.
“You know she didn't mean it. At least not the second part. She loves you.”
Sniffing, wiping at his eyes, Azriel groaned. “I don't know if she does anymore.”
“She does,” Cassian said quietly. “I know she does.”
After a beat of silence, Cassian asked, “What are you going to do?”
Azriel shrugged, watching his bloody hands start to heal. “Well. I could either hang around, keep apologizing, and piss her off more, or… leave her alone…”
“And piss her off more,” Cassian added.
A dry laugh escaped Azriel. “Exactly.”
Cassian was quiet for a moment, seemingly pondering how to help him.
“I’m not giving up on her,” Azriel finally said, with more conviction than he felt. “I just… I don't want to make it worse.”
“Az, I hate to tell you this, but I don't think it could get much worse,” Cassian said, grimacing.
Azriel just sighed, stretching out his wings behind him.
---
I knew I'd curse you for the longest time
Chasing shadows in the grocery line.
Seeing Azriel again, seeing him beg on his knees for your forgiveness, seeing how hollow his eyes looked, how his shadows were so unrelenting around him, had absolutely wrecked you.
It was another few days until you had the courage to leave the river house at all.
Azriel had come back to the river house several times, but you had your friends send him away. You couldn’t bear to see him again.
Feyre and Rhysand had checked on you frequently during your stay at their house, consoling you, cursing Azriel’s name right along with you. Rhys had even loaned you what you needed to get your own apartment, on the other side of Velaris from the one that you once shared with Azriel.
That part seemed to make it final, somehow. You could almost convince yourself it had all been a dream until you made your way to your new, empty apartment, without a trace of the love that used to be yours.
That empty apartment wrecked you all over again, and as you looked around it for the first time, your body folded in half, arms wrapping around your stomach as your body racked with sobs.
You had started to regret insisting that you do this part by yourself.
It was really over. Azriel really cheated on you and it was really done.
You knew it was time to start distancing yourself from Azriel’s family. They had undoubtedly been on your side this whole time, but even Rhysand and Feyre were starting to change their tune slightly. You know he loves you still. You know he’s a good male. You know he’s so sorry.
You understood where they were coming from, really, you did.
But that didn’t make it hurt less. What you needed was to hate him. It was the only way you could ever bring yourself to move on, to start living your life again.
You had been solemnly unpacking for a few hours when there was a knock on your door. You stiffened immediately. Rhysand and Feyre had said that they wouldn’t tell Azriel where you lived, but maybe he had figured it out?
“Relax sweetheart, it’s me,” Cassian said on the other side of the door, and you did relax, if only slightly. You hadn’t seen him since before this all started.
Reluctantly you let him in. He was sauntering, wearing that easy smirk he always donned. You couldn’t decide if it was comforting or annoying.
Cassian whistled as he looked around. “Nice place.”
You settled on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes softened as he walked closer to you, then perched next to you on the couch, not quite relaxed. “I wanted to check on you.”
“You can report back to Azriel that I’m just as pissed as ever,” you grumbled.
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Cassian said quietly.
Skeptically, you turned to face him. You were sure he would be the most likely to take Azriel’s side.
After a moment, Cassian said, “If it’s any consolation, he hates himself probably about as much as you hate him right now.”
“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse,” you admitted.
Cassian sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Did you mean it? That you never wanted to see him again?”
You shifted, hugging your knees to your chest. “In the moment I did. Thinking about seeing him now… it breaks me apart. But, thinking about the rest of my life completely without him…”
“That breaks you apart too?” Cassian offered.
You nodded, tears stinging your eyes.
“Okay, look,” Cassian said, turning so he fully faced you. “I’m going to tell you something. You’re my friend and he’s my brother, and I love you both, so I need you to know I’m not trying to convince you of anything, I am merely giving you information. Okay?”
“O-kay…”
He took a deep breath, seemingly gathering his thoughts, before he continued. “Azriel has always felt like he was inferior. The way he was raised… he carries that around more than a lot of people think. He often thinks that he isn’t good enough for people, but especially you.”
“How do you know?” You knew that Az still dealt with a lot from his childhood, but he wouldn’t often voice those things to you. He had mentioned something about not feeling good enough when you saw him, but you weren’t sure what to make of it.
“He mentioned it to me a few times, that he didn’t feel like he was the kind of person you should be with. You’re so bright and bubbly, he felt like you deserved somebody who was the same.”
You rested your cheek on your knee, trying to digest the information. “But… he must have known I never actually felt like that, right?”
Cassian shrugged. “On a good day, maybe. But deep down I think he always had it in the back of his mind: that fear that he wasn’t right for you.”
“He should’ve told me,” you said quietly.
“I agree. And I’m not saying that it excuses what he did, but that day…it was a hard one for him. What he had to do in the Court of Nightmares.”
Your stomach dropped. You hadn’t even thought about that.
“Well, he should’ve told me that too.”
Cassian nodded. “Yes. He should have.”
You groaned. “I hate this.”
“I know,” he said quietly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “I’m sorry.”
Cassian let you cry on his chest for a long moment before he said, “hH wants to come see you, you know. He doesn't want to give up on you.”
When you didn't respond, he said softly, “Just think about it.”
Days later, all that Cassian had said was still ringing in your ears, even as you walked through the market when it was the busiest.
Despite everything, it hurt your heart to think that Azriel had ever felt like he wasn't enough for you. And you were still so hurt at what he had done and what you had seen, but it at least made more sense now.
You hated this feeling of loneliness that followed you around wherever you went now, rooted so deeply in you that you were scared it would never go away.
Azriel had been so good to you for so long. Was one mistake really worth throwing everything away?
Every time you had the thought though, you remembered the sight of him in her bed and wanted to scream or cry or kick something.
Suddenly, as you were nearing the edge of the market, you swore you saw the wisp of a curling shadow out of the corner of your eye and stiffened. This hadn't been the first time that you thought you glimpsed Azriel's shadows or wings in public since it happened.
But, no this time it was real. And he saw you too.
You willed your feet to move, but they wouldn't. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, from this man who had loved and hurt you so completely.
Azriel approached you like you were an injured animal he was trying not to scare away. Your heart thundered in your chest.
“Hi,” he said in what you knew was his gentlest voice.
You couldn't bring yourself to speak. Still, after everything, you missed him. And seeing him now… it was too much to bear. Yet, too much to walk away.
“I'm sorry,” he said softly, his eyes swimming with pain and affection. His shadows were on full display, despite the fact that they usually shied away from the sun.
“You've already said that,” you murmured, still rooted to the spot.
“I know. And I'll keep saying it every chance I get. If I knew where you lived, I'd send you flowers or a book or dinner from that restaurant you love every day and I'd tell you I'm sorry and that I love you.” His voice was shaky in a way you had never heard from the shadowsinger.
“You would not,” you said, trying to sound angry but it just came out weak.
“Of course I would,” he said, risking a step closer to you. “I would do anything to take your pain away. You have to believe that.”
You did. You did believe that he meant it. But you didn't know if it would be enough.
For a moment you let yourself gaze at the man you once trusted with your whole heart. He looked thinner, like he hadn't been eating enough. His eyes were still hollow, dark bags beneath them. Even his wings drooped slightly. He might look even worse than you did.
And yet, you could still see the beautiful, sweet shadowsinger you had fallen in love with so long ago.
Finally you said quietly, “I'll tell Rhys he can give you my address.”
Those hazel eyes sparked with hope. And love. Definitely love.
---
The only thing I wanna do
Is make it up to you.
When you went out the next morning, there was a book left at your doorstep with a note attached.
It was the newest from one of your favorite authors. Your lips formed the tiniest smile.
The note read:
I couldn't start my groveling with something too cliche, so I went straight for your romance novels.
I've never told you this, but I always love when you tell me about the books you’re reading. Your entire face lights up when you do. And you know I love a fairytale ending.
I hope you have a good day today.
I'm so sorry for what I did. I'm so sorry for hurting you.
I love you so much. I always will.
-Az
You couldn't help but laugh a little by the time you got to the end. As if anybody else would be writing you this note.
The next morning when you stepped out your door, there was a pastry from your favorite cafe in a to-go bag. On the bag was a note:
I'm really hoping you'll find this in the morning so it's still good.
If not, you just come let me know and I'll drop everything to get you a fresh one.
I miss you.
My life is a nightmare without you.
I'm so sorry.
I love you.
-Az
And so it went. Every morning, rain or shine, Azriel would leave something that he knew you would love, with a note, always ending in some version of I'm sorry. I love you.
It did warm your heart that had turned so cold. The dedication alone was enough to prove to you that he really was sorry for what he did.
Yet, every time a note would make you laugh or cry so much that you wanted to run to his arms, you were always stopped by that image that plagued your mind. By the fact that he did what he did and no amount of little gifts would change it.
Months passed, and to Azriel's credit, the gifts, and more importantly the notes, kept coming. Your bedside drawer was completely full of them. And there may have been a night or two when you missed him so desperately that you would read them over and over again until your eyes burned and you had no choice but to cry yourself to sleep.
You would sometimes lay awake at night, picturing him coming up to your door. Several times you wanted to wait up for him, to listen for his footsteps, to pull him into your apartment, forget everything that happened and just be happy again.
But you never had the nerve. You were terrified of going through it all again.
Until one day, there was no gift at your door. No note. No sign of him anywhere.
Your heart plummeted. Had something happened to him? Was he hurt? Injured on some mission Rhysand sent him on?
Or had he finally given up on you?
It wasn't until that moment that you were willing to admit to yourself how much you had been relying on those notes, those little pieces of him.
You went through your day in a daze, devastated all over again.
It was early in the evening when there was a knock on your door. For a moment, you hoped it would be Azriel. You hadn't actually seen him for months. But you quickly realized it was more likely to be one of your friends, who still came by, despite what you had initially thought.
So, the breath was knocked completely out of you when it was indeed the shadowsinger waiting on the other side of the door.
His handsome face, his soft expression, on his face made you want to weep. You missed him so much.
Azriel smiled somewhat shyly as he gazed down at you, holding a paper bag in his hand. “I'm sorry it's late. Rhys has got me scouting out some things, and I didn't get back here until now. I brought dinner,” he said, holding it out to you.
You recognized it from your favorite restaurant. With shaking hands, you took it from him, spotting the note attached to the outside.
I'm sorry. I love you.
I'm sorry. I love you.
I'm sorry. I love you.
Over and over again it was repeated, taking up the entire paper. You placed it on a table inside before your gaze flicked back to him. He was watching you closely, his wings tucked in tightly behind him.
“I thought you gave up on me,” you whispered.
His timid smile fell. “Never,” he said softly. “I'll never give up on you. I love you so much.”
Tears brimmed your eyes and all of a sudden, you knew you couldn't take it anymore. You didn't want to hate him, you didn't want to dwell on the one awful thing that he had done. You had a drawer full of wonderful things that he had done.
“I love you, too,” you murmured, the tears spilling freely down your cheeks now.
A sound that sounded distinctly like a sob escaped Azriel, and he wrapped his arms around you, crushing you into his chest. “I never thought I'd hear you say that again,” he sniffed, his hand cupping the back of your head, kissing your temple.
After a long moment, he took your face in his hands, gazing at you for a moment before he slowly kissed your tears away. You laughed lightly and he smiled, leaning in to kiss you so softly, like he was afraid you would break.
“I love you,” he murmured against your mouth. “I love you so much.”
You pulled back long enough to gently brush his tears away. “No more secrets. If you're struggling with something, you need to tell me.”
“I know. I'm sorry. No more secrets.”
“And nobody else. Ever.”
He winced. “I'm so sorry, love.”
“I know you are,” you said softly, cupping his cheek in your hand.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
You rose to your tiptoes to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
At last, you had found your way back home.
#acotar fic#acotar one shot#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#acotar#azriel one shot#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel x you#azriel angst#acotar angst#acotar fanfic#angst#angst with a happy ending#request#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel
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succubus!reader and loser!ellie tribbing? Like... with a vibrator...
Cursing you rn for plaguing my thoughts
if we draw on the basis of succubus strap, then we could imagine succubus!reader coming equipped with a vibrator. now, would it be just any run-of-the-mill vibrator? no. demons being demons, I think imp-intents would convince them otherwise into bringing something over-powered, stamped in warning labels (warning: your clit may just explode!), and of an intend to inspire fear; dauntingly looking. having ellie under your edict, an ankle cupped in your fist and spread wide 'till her hamstring stung, and forced to observe the way her and your cunt roll over the bulbous tip of a vibrator held by you— whining and weeping her freckled undereyes to puffed reds, is your prize at the crown of an inferno. cauldron of lusty tears at the tail of a rainbow. you can feel the force of her legs fighting back against that drilling sensation, the wants of enclosure around the vibration that made her clit feel pricked, engorged, oversensitive and screaming. and while you may not be the mother of demons, she'd still address you as if you were the mother of succubi. voice holding the vulnerability of a fucktoy. "h—hey.. can you turn the setting down? don't wanna come yet, m—mama." rasps transformed into elated gasps inwards, yet obstructed by the moans begging to filter out. she's staring up at you with these doey, watery eyes, ones you would see on kneels begging for forgiveness. and her mouth is slightly cracked, taking slim heaps of air her reddened, little button nose couldn't steady out. control being in your thrall, and the appeal of fragile girls under you relying on your mercy as their pussies happily eat up whatever you've got shoved in, or on them— is the exact persuasion that drives you on. either that, or just how her pussy: slicked from pearl to sheet in milky nectar your throat gulped to drink, and beautifully spreading folds over the vibrating head, so close to your own— drives you on. the details. the consequences of your torture. "mh-mn ellie, y'know whose rules we're playing by, right?" you ask sweetly, shaking your head side to side, and she nods with hesitation, folding her lip in to wetten it up prior to humming, "mhm." contorting her features softly, like she could loathe the sound if she wanted to. "mine." reminding her, you angle the vibes shaft upon her abdomen, and quickly scoot her further under you, throwing her into audible shock. impending your sensual shadow over her, pressing your own pussy into the toy so that it would press into hers. "fuuuckkk." you groan in delight. toss your head back, out of ecstasy, out of the ability to handle this. contrarily, ellie groans in overstimulation, "ughhh!" and scrunches her face like pain is present, breaking her lips open into a gasping, light-headed mess, choking and whining on overload, "f-fuhuck—" squirts all over the plastic without remorse for how filthy the scene looks, digging nails into the flesh of her lifted knees for dear life.
++ and she'd be bucking and knocking her clenched feet unknowningly into your backside the entire time. squirming around and laughing torturedly. screwing these worried little eyes down at her crotch. ughh I live for loser!sub!ellie.
definitely has a thing for wings though. takes one good look at yours and she's creaming unprompted. [big text version up for request] [ellie img from caitsgalaxy on pinterest]
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie tlou#lesbian#sapphic#⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks#loser!ellie x succubus!reader#loser!ellie#ellie x reader#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie williams fic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams blurb#sub!ellie
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UNKNOWN TO ME AND YOU | Alastor x reader | PART 2
Summary: After your altercation with Alastor in the hotel lobby, will you be able to mend your relationship?
This is PART 2. Part 1 can be found here.
This is the continuation of @lustylita's wonderful idea, which can be found here. I just had the pleasure of writing it. I hope you enjoy the end of our little story!
Tags: Alastor x gn.reader, some angst
The relationship between you and Alastor had taken a sharp turn for the worse. What used to be a strained but neutral relationship was now strained, uncomfortable, and awkward at best. You found yourself doing everything in your power to avoid him whenever possible.
Each time you and Alastor coincided in a room, a surge of panic would engulf you. The urgency to escape the impending unbearable awkwardness was so tangible it left a metallic taste in your mouth. You would hastily concoct an excuse, no matter how feeble, to flee the scene. The same sense of panic would grip you if he happened to enter a room you were already in.
As you made your hasty retreat, you made a point to never meet his gaze. You were acutely aware that if you did, you would be confronted with the pained expression on his face behind the mask he liked to present to the world, a sight that would be unbearable. Despite Alastor's adeptness at concealing his emotions, you could now sense his anguish from the shadow he cast.
It was something you never anticipated. You never thought you'd harbour any kind of affection towards the man. Yet, after the end of your relationship with Alastor's Shadow, it felt like going through a tumultuous breakup with him. The pain of it all left you feeling raw, vulnerable, and insecure as if a part of you had been stripped bare of dignity and reason. You were left feeling smaller than you really were, with a heavy weight on your shoulders that dragged you down. As if everything was your fault.
But you had never known about Alastor's feelings for you. You didn't even know when his affection for you had begun and why he had buried them so deep within his heart that his shadow had to break free to soothe its ache. Only when his shadow broke free did you realise the extent of his emotions and how deep they ran.
The days felt like they had grown longer and lost all their colour without the presence of Alastor's shadow. Hollow and lifeless. Whilst you could argue all you wanted with yourself that it was the shadow that you wanted and not the man, the reality was that the shadow was the man.
They were not separate. They were one.
To love one was to love the other.
What ... love?!
Pain can be subjective, just like any emotion, but that does not diminish its impact on one's life. The heart will make itself known to the mind whether the mind wants to know or not, but sooner or later, the heart will make the mind yield to the pain, the longing, and the wanting just to get a moment of peace.
And that's where you were right now, at the door where your heart had broken down, letting the reality of your emotions spill at your feet. A door it begged you to walk through, but you were scared. You were a coward. For Alastor saw you through his darkness, his shadow, and you saw him through his.
To knock or not to knock. That is the question.
It had been 23 days since your altercation with Alastor in the hotel lobby. When he had branded you with a kiss that still burned. Marking you with a curse that tore your heart out and poisoned your mind. Longing for the time when it had been just you and Alastor's shadow, but now all your memories of the shadows had been replaced with the man himself. Giving you a genuine smile that only your eyes were allowed to see. To be given the privilege, the trust, to see him. To see the man and not the sinner. To see the soul and not the demon.
Everyone longs for love, no matter what form love comes in, longing for companionship. Trust. Strong arms to fall into with hands that could hold us up when our legs can't bear the burden anymore. And you knew that Alastor could be the arms you wished to fall into, but did he still want to fall into yours?
To knock or not to knock. That is the question.
The door to Alastors room felt like the doors to an impenetrable fortress. A domain that used to reek of him but now lured you with promises you longed for but feared as well.
With your crossword puzzle in hand, you counted down from five to zero before lifting your shaking fist and knocking on the door softly. A part of you hoped that he wasn't there so you could run back down to the lobby and forget that you had ever had this stupid idea. The idea of mending your relationship.
However, you were not so lucky, for Alastor soon opened the door. His smile twitched as his eyes fixed on you, and if you weren't imagining things, you thought you heard a soft chirping sound behind him.
"Yes?" Those were the first words he had uttered to you in 23 days. The only words you had allowed him to say to you in 23 days.
Swalloing the stone in your throat, you let out in a rushed ramble:
"Canyouhelpmewithmycrossword?"
"I'm sorry?"
"My crossword," you said, trying not to have a shaky voice, "can you help me with a clue? I can't figure it out."
You held out your newspaper with the crossword to him, pointing at the specific clue you had in mind. In reality, you had already figured it out 30 minutes ago, but Alastor didn't need to know that. He looked from you down to the newspaper, then back up at you again. His eyebrow raised.
"Very well," was all he said as he looked down at the newspaper and the clue again, but by bending down, you now had his head right beside yours. You wondered if his big ears meant he could hear better and if he could hear your heart trying to beat out of your chest. Could he hear how it called out to him? How it had howled at your mind to let him back into your life again.
"The answer is Erato, the muse," answered Alastor and straightened up again.
"Oh, right. That makes sense," and that was when you remembered that Erato wasn't just any muse, but a muse whose name meant desire, and never had you desired for the smallest of touch from another before. Looking down at his lips, so red and soft, knowing what they had felt like on your cheek but maybe never getting the chance to touch them again was torture.
"Was there anything else?"
Like a record scratch, you were hurled back into reality, looking back up at Alastor, who was studying you intensely. This is where your mind won over your heart, and you became a coward again.
"No! Thank you for the help!" you practically screamed as you stiffly stormed down the hallway, away from the sinner who closed the door to his domain, and you wondered if it was painful to die.
Work was slowly killing you, and it was not a pleasurable experience. Buried in paperwork, you had been staring at a document for the past half hour without really taking in the information. No matter how many times you would re-read the document, the words made less sense as you kept reading. Blurring together in one big mess that drained you of all your energy, the clock had not even struck 09:00 yet.
Overwhelmed, you buried your face in your hands, your body leaning on the desk for support. You wondered how you were going to make it through the day if it continued at this excruciatingly slow pace.
After a slight knocking, the door swung open, and someone entered your office.
"Not now, Charlie," you said softly so as not to offend without looking up, "I told you I'm fine. I don't need you to check on me."
However, no answer came, and when you looked up, you realised that it wasn't Charlie who had come knocking at your door again but Alastor, who was holding your favourite cup in his hand and a bag in the other.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you," you said and began to stand up, but you slowly dropped down when Alastor walked over to your desk and sat down your cup. The smell of coffee filled your office and the mere thought of having that sweet beverage filled you with delight. Beside the cup, Alastor put down the brown bag he had held, and you instantly recognised the logo of the bakery from across town that you loved so much.
As you looked at the bag, you felt a sudden jolt of surprise that made your body shake. You raised your gaze to Alastor, who was standing in front of you, and then back to the bag. You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth spreading through you as you thought about the blueberry muffin that was waiting inside. It was such a simple thing, but it made you feel wanted. What a wonder that such a small thing could make you feel so special and warm on the inside.
That warmth was something you hadn't felt in a long time. Ever since Alastor's shadow stopped visiting your office, you had felt incredibly lonely. You missed the little conversations you used to have with him and the way he always seemed to know just what to do to make you feel better. You even found it hard to go to the bakery and get your muffin in the morning because it made you feel too alone for your liking.
But now, as you had the bag in front of you, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things were finally starting to look up again. Maybe Alastor was back in your life for good, and you could once again look forward to those little moments of happiness that made your day a little brighter.
"I... thank you, Alastor. I greatly appreciate it." Your heart skipped a beat when Alastor looked down at you and gave you a small, genuine smile.
"You're welcome, my dear," he said softly as he turned to leave your office. His demeanour was calm and collected, yet you could sense a certain warmth and friendliness in his voice.
"Have you seen the roses yet?" the words rushed out of you before you could hold yourself back, too desperate for his company now that you had gotten it back.
"Pardon?" asked Alastor without turning around to look at you fully. His hands were resting on his microphone cane.
"The roses, in the garden. They've bloomed, almost all of them. They're... they're breathtaking. You should see them." Your knee started to nervously bounce under your desk as sweat began to gather in your palms. The man had managed to render you a nervous wreck so fast, his presence alone stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you.
"No, I haven't seen them yet. I'll make sure to walk around the garden on my break today. I can imagine that they are lovely."
Thinking this was the end of the conversation, you turned back to your dreadfully dull documents.
"Would you care to join me?" asked Alastor, his soft yet hesitant voice making your heart skip a beat. It was as if the air around you had suddenly become charged with an unspoken tension, making you wonder if he was nervous as well.
"In the garden?"
"Yes."
"I... I would love to."
"Wonderful. I'll come to get you around twelve if that works for you."
"Great! I look forward to it."
As he walked out, you couldn't help but sit back in your chair and take a deep breath. You felt a sense of relief and contentment, knowing that Alastor still seemed to want to try a new connection—something new and unexplored. You picked up your coffee and took a sip, letting the warmth of the liquid spread through your body. Alastor had managed to wake the butterflies within you again with a single act of kindness.
Your and Alastor's relationship had improved immensely over the week. However, there was just this little problem that kept bugging you. Alastor had not touched you in any way, not even laid his hand on your shoulder or offered his arm when the both of you had walked through the rose garden. While this wasn't uncommon, you rarely saw him really touch anyone in the hotel except for the odd pat on the head, but his shadow had been so physically affectionate that you yearned for the intimacy of it all.
While not overly affectionate, the shadow had not hesitated to hold your hand or rest on your shoulders. It wasn't that you wanted to carry Alastor on your back, but the simple act of holding hands seemed like a distant dream.
You sank deeper into the sofa in the hotel lobby as you glanced at the deer demon sitting by the fireplace above your newspaper—your crossword puzzle long forgotten. Alastor was sitting cross-legged with a book in one hand and a glass of rye whisky in the other, silently humming to the song he played from the antique radio he had summoned, and for some reason, you thought that he had never looked more attractive.
Satan's sweaty balls, you used to party every weekend and only come home after you had tried every type of alcohol the club had to offer, and now you were in love with a sinner whose favourite pastime was listening to jazz while drinking whisky. Your younger self would have hated what you had become, but in the present, you felt a deep sense of contentment, wanting nothing more than to have a quiet evening with Alastor, where he would read out loud to you from his book in front of the fire with your head in his lap, listening to jazz.
Angel Dust shouted a loud good night and started to walk up the stairs to his room after another hour had passed. Charlie and Vaggie, who had been sitting by the dining table and doing a jigsaw puzzle, were the next ones who left the lobby. Charlie's good night was barely audible because of how much she was yawning. The last one to leave the lobby was Husk, who you knew stayed longer than he usually did just so he could keep an eye on you. You quickly shot him a meaningful glaze, trying to tell him that everything was fine, which he seemed to understand.
"Night," grunted Husk as he started to walk up the stairs.
"Good night, Husk!" you shouted back, grateful that you and Alastor had some more time alone. That is if you actually dared to do anything.
The chance to change the mood was almost too good, too romantic for you to think clearly. There were so many possibilities as to what you could do. You could ask him about his day, but that felt too predictable. You could ask him about his book, but what if the book is boring and you can't make the conversation sexy? Would he even like that? He was flirty in a very subtle and charming way, but would he like it if you took a more direct approach?
Without knowing it, you had spent all your time thinking of all the things you could do with Alastor now that you were alone with him that you completely lost track of time. It wasn't until he closed his book and stood up that you were pulled away from your thoughts back into the present.
"Well, it is getting quite late. Sweet dreams, my dear."
Panicking again like he so often made you do, you blurted out the first thing you could think of to make him stay.
"Do you know the dance foxtrot?" You fucking idiot, of all the things you could have asked, why did you ask that?!
Alastor turned to you while raising a brow, and even if he looked at you with a curious gaze, you could not help but feel like the biggest fool in all of Hell. You used to be smooth when flirting and look at yourself now.
"I do. Why do you ask, my dear?"
There was no backing down anymore, so you took a deep breath, cheeks and ears burning, and confessed;
"I've always wanted to try it! I've seen others dancing it, I even know the moves, but I've never had anyone to dance with."
In the blink of an eye, the music on the radio changed from a soft and slow jazz song to one with a more precise and faster beat. Alastor bent down and left his book on his chair before he walked over to you.
"May I have this dance?" he asked with a mischievous smile.
Not caring anymore about dialling down your excitement, you gave him the biggest smile as you took his hand. Letting him pull you off the sofa. His hand was warm and soft, sending tingles up your arm as he gently stroked his thumb over your knuckles.
As Alastor pulled you towards him, he quickly established that he would lead the dance. With your hand on his shoulder and his between your shoulder blades, he pushed you into the first step of the foxtrot. The rhythm of the music began to take over, and he started to spin you around the empty hotel lobby. You couldn't help but laugh, feeling the wind rushing against your skin as you twirled around and around.
As he spun you, his red eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You felt like the only person in the world as you looked deep into each other's eyes, lost in the moment. It was a look you didn't see often, but sometimes, when it was only you and him, you could catch a glimpse of a softer look from Alastor. A look that made the butterflies in your stomach make loops in excitement. It was a look that made you feel cherished and admired, and it was a feeling unlike any other.
The dance seemed to last forever, and you didn't want it to end. You felt free and alive, and you knew that this was a moment that you would never forget.
When the song came to an end, a new song began directly after it. This one is slower than its predecessor, one that you couldn't necessarily dance the foxtrot to, for it was a song that called for a type of slow dancing.
Without hesitation, Alastor pulled you closer towards him as his hand moved from between your shoulder blades down your back. Leaving a trail of fire under your skin as his hand pulled you closer to him after it stopped in the middle of your back.
None of you said anything but continued slowly dancing to the music on the radio. His red eyes, heavy-lidded, looked deep into yours as he slowly dipped down and kissed your lips.
Happy 'burn a big ass bonfire so the witches who are flying to the devil's party fly into the bonfire instead' day, everyone! (If you can guess which country I'm from, from that, I'll be really impressed)
Taglist for the part 2: @littledolly2345 @slytherin4ever @wendds @beelz3bub @adamwarlockislife-blog @ilikemyteawithmilk @cherry-cola-100 @xia21 @rae-pottah @xsoftdead18 @arrozyfrijoles23 @maulsgf
#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor x you#x reader#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin alastor x you#alastor x reader angst#hazbin hotel alastor x reador angst#hazbin hotel angst
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Ok so this is a random and weird scenario i thought of after watching some INTERESTING videos on YouTube, I know but I just need to tell someone(it involves lovesick!Gojo- and no this isn’t a request, more like a rant😭)
imagine- it’s summer and all the second year students are sweating and want something cool to eat. Satoru randomly brings in a watermelon and challenges the others to try and open it without any cursed energy or a knife, just pure raw strength. Nobody can do it except him and he laughs a bit before reader crushes the watermelon between her thighs and opens it just like that…IDK Y I THOUGHT OF THIS AND IDK HOW HE WOULD REACT TO THAT BUT I IMAGINE HE WOULD BE RED IN THE FACE AND LIKE ‘me next🙋♂️’ IM SRY IM AWARE THIS IS VERY WEIRD😭😭
2:35pm — gojo satoru
synopsis. a certain challenge makes gojo go feral for you
contents. fluff, CRACK, lovesick!gojo, he is (highkey) a pervert, everyone in jujutsu tech is sick of him
“The one and only Gojo Satoru is here to save the day~” The familiar drawl of a sing-song voice calls over the sound of the dingy fan that you and Shoko were huddling in front of. Both of you were sprawled on a tatami mat with the door wide hoping, hoping to catch a gust of wind.
The grin adorned on his face didn't falter when his only response was three annoyed groans.
“It is way too hot for your antics Gojo,” You look up from the fan to half heartedly glare at the white haired boy in front of you. He stares at you, blue eyes slightly wider than usual before he gulps. You brush it off, knowing that you probably looked like a mess, considering you had just finished training in the sweltering Tokyo heat.
Your usual uniform is long gone, replaced with the dress shirt that you wear below it. Even with the undershirt and your skirt, you’re still suffering from the particularly hot day, skin glowing in the sun as a silent testament.
Gojo is forcibly kicked out of his trance upon Suguru harshly bumping shoulders with him.
“Show them what we got,” Suguru’s smooth voice says. Your eyes follow down to whatever he was referring to.
Without any difficulty, Satoru holds up a large watermelon proudly. Your mouth nearly waters at the sight of the large green fruit. How refreshing!
“Ah you didn’t have to go through the trouble after your mission, Suguru!” You leap from your spot, a bright smile painting itself on your face.
The pleased look on Satoru’s face turns sour. “I was the one that brought the watermelon?” He lifts the large fruit, flexing the muscles that were showcased from his dress shirt being cuffed up to his forearms.
“I should be the one getting the thanks, it was my idea to get it in the first place,” Shoko wraps an arm around your shoulder.
The taller boys in front of you look sheepishly away under her stern gaze.
You wrap an affectionate arm around her, “You’d make a good wife one day Shoko.”
Gojo’s jaw drops incredulously, leaning closer into your face, “What about me? [Name]! Wouldn’t I be a good doting husband too?”
You lean away, flustered at his sudden confrontation. His intense blue orbs never leave your face, expectantly waiting for an answer.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Shoko snorts, shielding you from his heavy gaze. “Anyways, how are we going to cut this thing? You brought a knife didn’t you?”
…
There is a long silence shared between the four of you.
You think you see an irk mark appear on Suguru’s forehead.
“I clearly told you to bring a knife from the kitchen,” Suguru snaps his head to his white haired counterpart.
“Must’ve slipped my mind, heh,” Satoru whistles. “We can just break it ourselves, no?”
TEN MINUTES LATER—
“Ready,” Satoru’s smile grows wide. “Go!”
You watch expectantly as Shoko’s hand descends onto the watermelon in a swift chop. To your shock, the watermelon stays unharmed despite the legs of the wooden table below it creaking loudly.
“Wha–?” She furrowed her eyebrows.
Satoru shrugs, “Better stop smoking and start training. You’re falling behind~”
You and Geto have to hold Shoko back from lunging at the smug white haired bastard.
“Next challenger, step up!” Satoru announces.
Fueled with hunger and the desire to get your hands on the juicy watermelon that awaits, you sit down on the cement floor of the school with the watermelon in your lap.
You gently place the fruit in between your thighs, inhaling slowly.
Squish!
The watermelon breaks in half with a crunch.
“Oh,” You blink in shock, surprised that your plan managed to work. “I did it.”
Your joy is short lived when you realize that your legs are sticky as a result of the juices of the fruit. A sheepish smile makes its way onto your lips.
“Gah–?!” Gojo chokes on air as he watches your thighs glisten with the sunlight. Though his mouth is agape, no words seem to escape. He’s nearly certain that the heat rushing throughout his body is not from the sun.
Shoko whistles, squatting down to eye level with your thigh to assess the damage done. She gives your thigh a good squeeze, “Nice legs.”
You’re too flustered to hear Gojo growl from just a couple of feet away at Shoko’s shameless attempt at flirting.
“My face next.”
extras:
- the only reason why satoru forgot to get a knife was because he was practically skipping to you once he got through the gates of jujutsu tech. suguru was nice enough to spare these details from you.
- despite all sorcerers being able to detect cursed energy, gojo satoru is pretty exceptional, being able to mask his cursed energy usage. that, and you were too tired to even notice it. (he lightly coated the watermelon right when each person went up to break it. suguru noticed immediately, but wanted to see how the prank would play out).
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Physio’s Daughter Part 6
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Read the other 5 parts HERE
Warnings: just cursing and the angst :)
WC: 4.3k
A/N: okay, so I know the opponents don’t match up with who Canada will actually play in the group stage of the Olympics but I’m a superstitious mfker and I don’t want to be responsible for jinxing anything, so they’re playing different teams.
You had never been on a private plane, it was definitely a different experience flying with the Canadian team than on a regular plane, however it didn’t make your dislike of flying any better. You were nervous walking up the stairs to the plane, you were nervous walking down the aisle, you were nervous when you sat down in the incredibly large and surprisingly comfortable chair. Your nerves only grew when you felt someone plop into the seat next to you only to look over and see Jessie with her sweet smile looking at you.
“Hi.”
“Oh this has got to be a joke.” You don’t mean to say it out loud but you do. Jessie’s smile falls when she hears your words.
“Nope.” She holds her phone out to you showing her ticket that shows she was indeed sitting next to you. “Sorry, I can see if someone will switch.”
You don’t respond to her, she has every right to sit there but you didn’t know how you were going to handle being next to her for such a long period of time. She stands up and you watch her scan the plane looking for a teammate to switch with.
“Sit down Jeff, you're holding us up.” One of her teammates waiting in the aisle says, she listens not wanting to start any issues. She plops down with a sigh into the seat next to you.
She definitely didn’t help your nerves, now you were nervous about the actual flying and spending the 8 hour flight next to the woman you were attracted to, but couldn’t have. You sat in silence as she got herself situated in her seat. Grabbing out a pair of headphones, a bottle of water, and a bag of dried fruit.
She didn’t say anything to you and you didn’t say anything back. That was until the plane started pushing back.
You were clutching onto your arm rest with one hand, your phone in the other as your tried to shuffle through songs to find one to make the plane ride less miserable. Subconsciously your knees were both bouncing aggressively, trying to get out your nerves.
“You alright?” Jessie points at your knees.
“I hate flying. It just feels unnatural, you know?”
“I guess, it’s never bothered me much. I try to sleep
most of the time. It’ll be okay.” She puts out a hand on the small table between your seats. She’s offering to hold your hand.
You look at it for a second, before deciding to turn her hand down. You shake your head to indicate you were good, you didn’t need to hold someone’s hand, you were an adult. Except it was then that the plane began down the runway to take off, the plane rattling, making you reach for her hand just as she was about to pull it away.
You interlock your fingers and grip her hand tightly. You’re sure your hands are sweaty and clammy which is embarrassing. Jessie gives your hand a gentle squeeze as you feel the plane lift off. You look over at her and she mouths the words “it’s okay”.
Despite the flight being at night you didn’t sleep for a second. Jessie fell asleep less than an hour after take off, you felt her grip on your hand relax and you looked over to see her seat slightly reclined, her head back and her eyes shut. She looked peaceful and beautiful. Realizing your own thoughts you turn away from her, kicking yourself for thinking about her. You also pull your hand away, placing it into your own lap to pick at the skin on your thumb.
It’s a long and restless eight hours and you’re thankful when you get the announcement that the plane would be landing soon. The announcement wakes up Jessie, she shifts in her seat, making a few soft groans before her eyes blink open.
“Did he say we’re almost landing?” She asks, sliding her headphone off.
“Yeah, shortly.” You let her know.
“Oh wow, did I sleep the whole flight?”
“I think so, I’m not sure.” You didn’t want her to think you had been paying attention to her, you had been, stealing glances at the girl beside you every 15 minutes to just admire her, and envy her ability to sleep.
“Did you sleep?”
“Yeah a bit.” You lie.
She gives you a smile and her arm extends to give you a quick pat on the shoulder. “Good, see I told you it wouldn’t be that bad.”
As you approach the ground Jessie offers her hand again, only this time you’re smart enough not to take it. “Landing doesn’t bother me as much as taking off.” You tell Jessie, another lie, it still terrified you just as much.
Once you’re on the ground, you remove your hands from the armrest where you’re pretty sure you made indents with your fingers from gripping so hard. Everyone files off the plane and onto buses. You get on the bus and pick the seat next to your Mom, not wanting to risk an open seat next to you being taken by a certain brunette.
“Convenient seating on the plane eh?” Your Mom nudges you.
“Please stop.” You grumble at her. You were tired from your inability to sleep on the plane, overwhelmed from the stress and ready to be in bed. You were also bothered as she was the one making it such a big deal that you had a crush on Jessie, she shouldn’t get to joke around about it.
“Oh don’t be so uptight.” You stuck your headphones back on, and leaned over to place your head on your Mom’s shoulder. The bus ride was about an hour, most of which you passed by finally being able to sleep.
The next few days went by quickly, the players busy with training, photo shoots, drug tests, interviews, meetings, you hardly saw the players except during training or physio appointments. It worked out well for you, being able to avoid Jessie for the majority of each day. You got to go out and explore the city, most of which you did with Olivia, one of the other staff members.
Olivia was your assigned roommate for the trip, she was the other youngest staff member, still 2 years older than you. She worked primarily with the media team. She was blonde, tall, and loud. She was exactly your type.
You two quickly became close, learning to navigate the new city together, only a couple of times getting lost. You would get up and get coffee together each day, trying as many cafes as possible. You’d walk around with your coffee, enjoying the sites and the quiet mornings before you’d both split to go work, you to the training room while Olivia would go gather her camera gear and head to the pitch. On the pitch she would come over to you, talking to keep you company.
Olivia was nice, she worked as a good distraction, when you weren’t face to face with Jessie at training, you were able to keep her out of your mind, instead you kept Olivia in your mind.
The first few games of the group rounds were easy, Canada easily beating Japan 3-0, then drawing with Germany 1-1. The last group stage game was a 2-0 win over Brazil. You had just finished up work, giving players treatment after their first knockout game against Australia, a nerve wracking 1-0 victory.
It had been a long day, when you got back to your hotel room Olivia was already there, sitting at the desk working.
“Hi!” She smiled at you when you walked in. “You look exhausted.”
“Gee thanks.” You reply sarcastically as you flop yourself onto your bed, face down into the blanket. You were grateful that the semi final game wouldn’t be for 3 days. You’d still have work when the players trained, but it wouldn’t be all day and into the night like match days were.
“I took photos of you today, want to see them?” Olivia asked as you remained faced down on your hotel bed. You rolled over and sat up, looking across to the desk where she was editing on her computer, your face on the screen.
“Why did you take photos of me?” Skeptical of what she meant, you pushed yourself off the bed and over to stand behind her chair. The photo on her computer screen was a photo of you, talking with Ashley Lawrence as you wrapped her wrist with tape.
She clicks to the next photo, it’s one of you carrying a medical bag out from the tunnel onto the field. She clicks again. It's one of your Mom and Sarah chatting on the bench looking at paperwork.
“Well it’s more photos of the whole staff, you all don’t get enough recognition for what you do, so I asked my manager if I could spend some time taking photos of you all working, to make a little appreciation post.” She keeps flipping through the photos, there are a lot of you, some of you with players, some of you with other staff and then a lot of you just alone, standing watching the game, a couple of you on the pitch, treating a player for a cramp, one of you on the phone.
“You photograph well.”
“Oh.” You blush, you’re not sure what to say to the compliment. “Thanks, it’s probably more your photography skills.”
Olivia turns away from the computer to look up at you. Her eyes wander over your face for a minute before she says “Nope, pretty sure it’s just you.” There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before Olivia pushes back from the desk and over to her backpack. “You know, if you want, I have my personal camera, I can take photos of you while we’re out.”
Her comment brought you back to your text conversation with Jessie from weeks ago, when she offered to be your personal photographer on your travels.
“That sounds nice, tomorrow?”
“Yeah I’m free, obviously, since we have the same schedule.” She laughs. “Sounds good, we can do some sightseeing, and then maybe lunch?”
“Perfect.” You sit down behind Olivia as she turns back to looking at photos, watching over her shoulder as she continues to go through photos of the players. Every time Jessie pops up on her screen you feel a flutter in your stomach. You were doing such a good job of avoiding her, not thinking about her, here you were still having feelings about her when you were about to embark on your day with Olivia tomorrow.
Your phone rings, you scurry over to it, Jessie’s name on the screen. You answer.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Her voice is soft, gentle, you could listen to her talk for hours.
“What’s up?”
“You’re off tomorrow, I’m off tomorrow. Can I finally get that coffee date?” She then quickly corrects herself. “Not a date, but us getting coffee, but not a date, us, coffee, tomorrow. And not coffee where its me bringing it to you in your office.”
“Um, yeah I can probably make that work. I’m going around with Olivia to do some sightseeing, but we can probably go later in the morning, we can grab coffee early”
“Oh, okay, never mind. That’s alright, enjoy your time with her.” You can hear the defeat in her voice.
“No Jess it’s-” you hear a beep and you then realize she hung up.
You put the phone down, slumping down to sit. Sure you were the one who maybe turned her down a little, but the way she hung up aggressively on you hurt.
“Jess? As in Fleming?” Olivia looks at you.
“Yeah, her and I are, we’re friends sorta. We’ve been trying to get coffee for a couple weeks but we’ve both been busy.
“Like a date?”
“Oh no, not a date.”
“Oh. Well you can go get coffee with her, I’m okay if we go mid morning instead.”
“Well she just hung up on me so, I’m not sure if it’s even an option.” You shrug.
“Alright then we can start early if that’s better. We can grab coffee and then do some sightseeing?”
The next morning you woke up to the sound of the shower starting, Olivia already awake and getting ready for the day. You check the time, it’s 7:40, technically sleeping in given your regular schedule. You lay in bed staring at the ceiling waiting for the bathroom to be free.
Olivia comes out in only a towel, making your eyes temporarily widen before you relax them.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t meant to hog the bathroom.” She smiles when she sees you’re also awake.
“Oh, no worries.” You roll yourself out of bed and head into the bathroom yourself. “I’m going to shower and then I’ll be ready to go.” You shower quickly and step out wrapping yourself in the soft towel. You dry your hair and open the door walking over to your suitcase, Olivia is already dressed, packing a small bag for the afternoon camera gear spread across her bed.
You rummaging through your clothes for something to wear. You pick out a white linen shirt, an undershirt to go beneath and then a black pair of jeans. You turn back, checking that Olivia is occupied with something else.
“You’re good, I'm not looking.” She notices your glance in her direction.
“Thanks.” You say before you quickly drop the towel before pulling on your underwear and bra. You then pull on your jeans and shirt. “I’m done.” You say to her.
“Ready to go?”
“Yep.”
You walk into the cafe, there’s a small line and a couple of people already sitting. You get in line, looking at the menu, allowing Olivia to translate for you, her being from Quebec coming in handy.
“Hey you two!” You hear a voice from behind you and Janine walks up to you and Olivia, behind her is Jessie who looks less than thrilled to be out of the hotel.
“Hi Janine, hi Jessie.” Olivia greats them both.
“Hi Olivia.” Jessie says, she just glances at you, not saying anything. Janine looks between you and Jessie quickly an eyebrow cocked, questioning the strange behavior.
Guilt flushes through your body, even though Jessie was the one who rejected your offer, you said you would’ve been available in the morning and she hung up. But the way she ignored you felt like you had done something wrong.
Saved from having any further conversation, it’s your turn to order, you order and you then get Olivia’s order, offering to pick up Janine and Jessie’s cost as well, Janine accepts but Jessie quickly interrupts and waves you off saying she’s got it for them.
“Good to see you guys, enjoy your day off!” Olivia says as you both walk out the door onto the street.
Despite the awkward interaction at the cafe, you and Olivia have a lovely rest of the morning and afternoon. You walk around, she takes photos of you, and the scenery but mainly just of you. You talk and talk. Finally your conversations go further than just surface level and about work.
You learn that she had an older sister and two younger brothers, she was born in Quebec but lived in New York for a bit as a kid. She originally wanted to study film production but got an internship as a sports photographer for her university sports department and fell in love with the work. Outside of photography she enjoyed baking but hated cooking. She didn’t like seafood, except for shrimp.
It was easy talking with Olivia, but it didn’t feel the same as your early morning chats with Jessie or the small conversation you’d have when she hung around training late just to be in your company.
Maybe you weren’t into Olivia like you thought you were. Maybe you just wanted her as a friend. She made you feel nothing like how Jessie did. You didn’t have the same nerves around her, you didn’t have the same heart racing when you thought about her, you didn’t have the desire to grab her and kiss her. You didn’t think about what it would be like to sleep next to her, your mind didn’t constantly replay the feeling of her hug. You didn’t want her like that. You didn’t have a crush on her, you just wanted to be her friend, and you were.
The rest of your day was easy, you had lunch before you both were tired enough to head back to the hotel for a nap. Your plans to nap were quickly derailed by watching a movie.
“Come lay on my bed, it’s plenty big and then you won’t be straining your neck.” Olivia offered as she looked at you laying in your own bed, having to lean your head over to see the TV. She pulls back the sheets on the side closest to you and pats the bed.
You get up from your own bed, fix the sheets and then climb into Olivia’s bed, adjust to be comfortable and start watching the movie. Unfortunately the movie being in French meant you weren’t paying attention for too long and your eyelids quickly grew heavy and you fell asleep.
You woke up to the sound of Olivia talking quietly before you heard the hotel room door close. You blink a few times as she walks back into the room.
“Who was that?” You ask, thinking for a second you had maybe missed something important, a meeting or an appointment.
“Just Jessie, she wanted to borrow a camera strap and tripod, I guess she’s going out to take photos. Sorry did we wake you, we tried to be quiet, she was only in the room for a bit.”
Fuck, Jessie had been in the room. You knew you were in for it, if it was anyone else they might not have noticed that you were sleeping in Olivia’s bed, but Jessie was too observant to not notice. There was no way she didn’t notice how your bed was still made, untouched and you and Olivia had both been in hers. She saw you hugging the pillow beneath your head, she saw the fact that you were only dressed in a sports bra and sweats. It looked exactly like what you didn’t want it to look like.
You flopped back into the bed, watching tv with Olivia and trying not to spiral about Jessie until dinner time when you met your Mom to have dinner together. Thankfully getting you out of the team dinner for a night not having to see Jessie who is probably still pissed off with you from this morning and now seeing you in another girl's bed. Your Mom offered to take you to a museum tomorrow, you only had training to attend in the evening, so naturally you agreed.
The next two days without games fly by and before you know it you’re back standing on the sidelines watching the team play in the semi-final game against France.
You let out a sigh as the whistle blew to end extra time and indicate the game was about to enter penalties. Canada and France had both played well, keeping it a tight game 0-0. You watched the coin toss, France getting to kick first.
You stood on the sidelines, arms linked with the other staff, your Mom on one side and Sarah on the other, as you all watched the girls take penalties.
The first French player makes her penalty. Julia steps up, easily slotting the ball into the net. The next French player makes hers as well. Leon takes the ball next, her kick deflected by the keeper, putting Canada behind 2-1. After the third French player misses her kick you watch as the ball finds its way into Jessie’s hands.
You had been nervous watching all of the kicks, but watching Jessie hold the ball made you unable to move or breathe. You watch her, you had seen her take penalties plenty in practice, you had her routine memorized just as you did every other players.
She placed the ball, adjusting it a few times before she was satisfied. She then took her three steps back, and looked down, closing her eyes for a moment. You waited and waited and waited, watching her. It was only a couple extra seconds but you watched as Jessie didn’t look up as quick as she normally did, you also noticed the small shake of her head before she opened her eyes, something she didn’t usually do, and began her approach. She kicked it and you watched as it deflected off the keeper's hands. She had missed.
You watched as she turned back to join her team, head down, not acknowledging as her teammates gave her pats on the back.
Thankfully, the next French player misses her kick as well, giving Canada the chance to tie it up. Janine successfully makes her kick, giving a quick celebration before going back to the line to watch the fifth French player take her kick. Her kick goes off the post and now Chloe steps up to take her kick. She set up, taking the kick and you’re not even sure you saw the ball go in, just the eruption from those around you and the sea of red running onto the field. You follow the rest of the staff, grabbing bottles to bring out to the players. Your eyes scanning for Jessie, you find her, head still down, Janine behind her trying to talk to her, Jessie just walking away.
“Jess.” You hold out a bottle to her.
“Don’t talk to me.” She puts a hand to your chest and shoves you out of the way, causing you to stumble back a step. It was probably a harder shove than she intended, but you get the message. She’s pissed off that she missed, she just needs some time alone. You don’t follow her, letting her leave the pitch as you turn back toward the field where the rest of the team was still jumping around and cheering.
“Don’t take it personally, she’s too tough on herself, she shuts people out.” Janine says, grabbing the bottle you intended for Jessie out of your hand taking a drink of it. “She’ll be fine.” She thanks you for the water, handing the bottle back to you. The team celebrates for a little bit longer before everyone starts moving back to the locker room to change and go to the hotel.
When you go back into the locker room you notice all of Jessie’s gear is gone, what was once her cubby is empty. You go check the treatment paperwork, seeing that she did do her recovery, just with Sarah instead of you and had already checked out of the facility for the night. It didn’t bother you too much that she didn’t do her recovery with you, you were glad she at least still did it, taking care of herself, but she wasn’t the type to rush out, leaving her team behind.
When you get back to the hotel you shower and crawl into bed, feeling emotionally and physically exhausted. You couldn’t get Jessie’s disappointed and angry face out of your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way she shoved you. Janine had said it wasn’t personal but it sure felt like it was.
Olivia climbs into her own bed shortly after you do, she shuts off the lights in the room and wishes you a goodnight. It’s not long before she starts to snore, she snores quietly, not enough to bother you or keep you awake, if anything on the other nights it was like a white noise machine. But tonight it was Jessie keeping you awake. You wanted to text her, to see how she was, to make sure she was okay. But you were keeping your distance, you were staying invisible.
After trying to fall asleep for 3 hours and failing, just rusting around in the sheets, you get up and decide to leave the room, getting out of the sleepless bed would maybe help. You throw on your Canada hoodie and as quietly as possible leave your hotel room. You make your way down to the conference room that had been converted into Team Canada’s meeting room, game room, movie room, whatever activities the players wanted to do in their free time.
There she was, wearing a matching red hoodie, her ponytail making her easily identifiable as she sat at a chair with her head tilted down toward something on the table in front of her.
“What are you doing here?” You asked Jessie as you entered the room, not wanting to startle her too much. She was sitting at a table looking at a tablet, a tablet playing her missed kick, over and over and over.
Her head spins around, looking over to you. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” You tell her.
“That makes two of us.” She replies. You stand next to her, she’s looking up at you.
“You know sitting here watching that over and over isn’t going to change anything.” You point at the tablet in front of her as you watch again the ball go into the arms of the keeper.
“I know, but this is how I handle it. So I’m going to keep watching it. Thanks.” You get the indication that she’s not interested in your company anymore so you turn to walk over to another chair in the corner of the room. You’re about to sit down when Jessie speaks up.
“I missed that penalty because of you, it’s your fault.”
#jessie fleming#jflem#jessie fleming x reader#jessie fleming imagine#woso imagine#woso x reader#canwnt x reader#jessie fleming blurb
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Please write about curvy reader with her 3 inches dick husband, Konig is reader's neighbor then helps her what's real sex feel like with his 10 inches cock😩
Can you imagine to difference😮💨 I'd want to cuck my husband🤭🤭🩷🩷
Let Me Love You Right (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, cheating
2.9k word count
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You’ve been married to Chris for eight years now, you both got married young and he’s your first and only. To say sex has been lack-luster… would be kind. You both waited for marriage, Chris’s idea. That meant you fell in love with him FOR him. You try to remind yourself that every day since finding out Chris only has a 3-inch cock.
Every time you have sex, you lie there looking at the ceiling while Chris moans loudly and gets off in six minutes. He doesn’t know where the clit is either and his finger game is weak. He just isn’t good in bed. The fact you catch him staring at a very slender woman online adds to it all, you’re a thick and curvy woman. He makes you feel rejected so it’s hard to enjoy anything with him. At some point you began to question if maybe you’re truly asexual because you became so turned off to sex and to him.
Then one day, your new neighbor moved in. You were sitting on your couch sipping coffee as you watched a moving truck pull in. You thought nothing of it and went on with your day. Your husband left for work so you decided to go outside and water your garden. You haven’t worked the last three years; you both have been trying for a baby, but nothing has happened yet. You’ve learned how to fill your time with small hobbies.
You got dressed in comfortable clothes and went outside. You turned the water on and began to pull the hose. As you pulled, it got stuck. Assuming you were outside alone, you began to curse the water hose, bending over to fix it and struggling. Just then you heard the sexiest Austrian accent from behind you.
König was about to go on a walk when he saw you leave your house, wearing tight black biker shorts and a tight white t-shirt. Your body was…perfection. He stood watching your breast bounce slightly with every step you take. Your hips sway so gracefully side to side. He picked the right house to move into. Hearing your struggle snapped him out of his lustful day dreams and began to approach you.
“Do you need help? Miss?”
He looked down at you, his eyes traveling over the curve of your plump ass. Imagining how soft it would feel to squeeze. When you turned to face him, his eyes dropped to your breast. Again, his mind went to imagining his hands squeezing them. He’s a man with big hands, and your breasts look like the perfect size to fill them.
As you turn your eyes meet the most beautiful sleepy pale blue eyes you’ve ever seen. The man towered over you as if you were a tiny ant. His body is massive and solid looking. His blonde hair was shining in the bright morning sun. His face is handsome, rugged, with some scarring. You felt yourself get turned on for the first time in years.
“N- no, I’ve got it. Thank you.” You caught his eyes wandering over your body.
“I’m König, I just moved in next door.” He held his hand out for you to shake.
“I’m y/n.” You put your hand in his, it looked so small. “The accent, are you German?”
“Austrian.” His thin lips pulled into a small smirk.
“Oh, sorry.” You chuckled from embracement.
“It’s okay, the accents sound similar.” He chuckled as well.
You both stood there for a while just letting your eyes drink the other in. You could cut the tension with a knife. His blue eyes returned to yours and he gave you a small smile. The rest was history. Everyday after your husband leaves for work, you’d see each other. Drink coffee together, he’d help you garden, just talking about your personal lives. Nothing sexual. That was until today.
Sitting at his kitchen table with him as you sip your coffee and chat just like you both always seemed to do. Today was different though, you both being more outwardly flirty with one another.
“Your husband is a lucky man Maus, I’d love a curvy housewife.” His eyes travel down to your cleavage before back up to your eyes.
His comment makes you blush, you playfully nudge his arm. “Yeah right.”
“No really, I bet he is all over you.”
“Not really,” you tap your nails on the mug in your hands.
“No?” König tilts his head, he’s aware that he’s prying but he can’t fathom a man having you and not being obsessed.
“Nope…” You look into his eyes. You debate on whether or not you want to disclose all of your marital issues to him or keep it light.
“May I ask why?” His eyes drop to your fingers tapping. He reaches his hand out and grabs your off the mug, caressing your soft skin with his thumb. “You can talk to me.”
“Promise you won’t judge or laugh?”
“Promise, Maus. You have my word.”
“So, when we dated, we never did anything sexual past kissing. Like traditional and all.”
König nods his head along, listening to your words as he sips on his own mug of coffee. His eyes follow your lips as you speak.
“When we actually… you know…fucked,” You and König chuckle, “He pulled it out and was incredibly small.”
König raises his eyebrow with curiosity, “Small?”
“Small,” you nod, “like three inches small.”
König sat with his jaw dropped looking at you in disbelief. Three inches? He’s bigger than that when soft. No way three inches can get past how thick you are…
“And how was that?” His hand squeezes yours slightly.
“Terrible. I didn’t feel anything. I’m pretty sure I’m still a virgin because it barely went in…” You chuckle slightly at how embarrassing this is. “We’ve been trying for a baby for YEARS now and nothing because I just have no sex drive. On top of all of this, I catch him gawking at skinny women constantly. Women that look nothing like me.”
You take a deep breath, feeling like you’ve been ranting. König still caresses your hand with his thumb.
“I think you’re beautiful. Perfect just the way you are.” He says in a soft and tender voice. “I also think it’s a shame he doesn’t please you sexually.”
You give him a warm smile before your eyes move to your hand in his. You look at the drastic size difference between both of your hands before looking back up to him.
“Why don’t you leave? Find someone new? Someone compatible?” König means himself.
“He’s all I’ve ever known.”
“Don’t you think you deserve romance? Passion?”
You can feel your face getting hot as he asks you this. You do want it. He is the reason the spark of desire was reignited in your life to begin with, but you can’t just tell him this. You can’t just have sex with your neighbor.
All the while you are inside your head, König looks at you. He takes in your features, the way you rest your head in your palm, how soft your lips look.
“Maus?”
“Hm?” You look up after being lost in thought. “Oh, I guess. I actually had a period of thinking I was asexual because I just didn’t have that desire or drive.”
“Do you still feel this way?”
“No,” you look back down at your hand in his.
A short period of time passes before König speaks up, “Do you find me attractive?”
Your eyes shot up to his shocked he was so forward. You hesitate for a while because you’re still married. Saying the truth might open up pandora's box, but you feel stuck, stagnant.
“I do…” you respond meekly.
“I think you’re attractive too.” König lets that linger in the air before continuing. “I desire you, and I think you feel the same.”
König tightened his hand around yours. He reached out with his other hand and caressed your face. You both look at each other for a while before you speak up.
“I do.” You lean into his hand that caresses your face.
“I don’t mean to cross lines, but I think I could love you better than your husband. I could appreciate your body better. I could fuck you better.”
His hand moves from your face to the back of your head, his fingers combing through your hair and grasp firmly. He tilts your head back slightly as his eyes roam down the curves of your jawline and neck. You felt a heat rush over your body.
König stands and walks closer to you, leaning in and kissing your neck tenderly. The warm sensation of his lips sends a chill down your spine. You don’t stop him even though you know you should. This would break your husband, but you don’t care.
Kissing up your neck to your ear he whispers, “Let me worship you, bitte.”
“What if I don’t like it?”
You’re still worried that it’s a you problem. What if you just don’t like sexual encounters?
König chuckled, “I can make you cum. Don’t worry.”
Your cheeks go hot as you laugh nervously. He pulls away and gently pulls you by your hand, “Komm mit mir”
You stand and follow him through his house to his bedroom, his bed a massive king size bed. The bedsheets are a dark gray color with a black comforter. He gently guides you to the room and lays you on the bed. Leaning over you, his lips find yours as you share a deep passionate kiss. His lips made yours actually tingle; you’ve never felt that before. His hands begin to trace the curve of your waist to your hip before moving up to your breast and squeezing.
König breaks the kiss and moves off of the bed. He gently takes your shoes off your feet and places them neatly by the bed. His eyes traveled over your body before pulling his shirt off to expose his physique to you. He can see the desire in your eyes, causing him to smile.
As he went to reach for the waistband of your leggings, you stopped him.
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
“I’ll love it, trust me.” He reassures you in a low soft tone.
Nodding your head, you let go of his hands and let him take them off. His eyes glide over your juicy thighs and the light blue cotton panties you’re wearing. Your legs are a little stubbly, you weren’t expecting to do this. You feel slightly embarrassed by the hair, but König doesn’t seem to mind as he glides his hands up your legs once they’re bare. His lips kissing from your calf up to your soft thighs; once there he begins to nibble on the soft flesh.
“Mien Gott, you’re so soft.” He whispers as he rests his kisses on your thighs more.
“I’m sorry I didn’t shave-”
“It’s natural. I don’t mind hair Maus.” He smirks.
You relax back on the bed as his hands go up to the elastic band of your underwear and pull it off. His eyes falling on the small bush between your legs as he smiles. He can’t wait to bury his face in it.
“Are you okay?” König asks as his eyes meet yours.
“Yeah,” You look down at him as he begins to spread your legs apart. Your heart beat is pounding and, in this moment, you begin to think about the life you wanted to build with Chris but then, oh god. You drop your head back on the bed.
König sticks his tongue out and begins to lightly flick over your clit. Instantly your legs begin to tremble and you moan loudly. Your hands find his hair and comb your fingers through it. You can’t believe oral sex can be this good. König stops licking your clit to suck it.
“No, no, please lick it.” You look down again, begging in a pathetic voice.
König nods and goes back to flicking his tongue rapidly over your clit. You had a long morning of sweating so your natural musk is strong and König is savoring the smell. Listening to your loud moans he slowly moves his finger to your pussy and teases the entrance. Slowly slipping his finger in your gasp. He loves the reactions you’re giving. It’s insane to think you’ve gone your whole life without feeling this pleasure.
“König,” you moan out loudly as he begins to pump his finger in and out of you quickly, your back arching. A new sensation consumes you as you scream out, your body trembling. König closed his eyes, smirking, and enjoying hearing you orgasm.
He pulls back and moves his finger once you relax. You prop yourself on your elbows and look at him, wondering why he stopped.
“Take your shirt off, Liebling.” König’s voice dripping with lust.
You sit up and pull your shirt over your head before reaching behind you to take your bra off. König watches eagerly to see your breast for the first time. Watching them full and heavy, come out from your bra makes his mouth water even more. He can’t believe how perfect you are.
König begins to pull down his jeans and you watch, jaw dropping once you see the outline of his erection. He pulles his boxer briefs down completely and you see his hard cock full for the first time. Not only is it thick but it's long. You can’t help but to stare and König notices.
“Don’t be scared, I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”
“How…how big are you?”
“Uh, ten inches, I think. A little over. But don’t worry, I won’t push you.”
“Ten?”
König laughs and walks to the bed and lays beside you. He moves his body so that you’re resting close to him while he is on his side. He leans down and kisses your breast, slowly making his way to your nipple to suck on it while he is lifting your leg up with one hand, and moving his cock to rub your pussy with the other.
“Are you ready?”
“I am.” Your voice is weak with pleasure of him touching you.
Moving his mouth from your nipple he begins to kiss your lips. He rests your leg over his body to keep your legs spread as he wraps that arm underneath the back of your head. He breaks the kiss to look at you as the other hand still on his cock slowly pushes into your slick tight cunt. König’s breath goes shaky from the pleasure it’s giving him. He slides his hand up your leg and holds it up for a better angle.
You look back at him and your hands grasp whatever they can find, his pillow and his forearm. Your eyebrows knit together as you moan out his name. His cock pushing deep inside of you like you’ve never felt before. Your walls clench tightly around his fat cock as you feel stuffed for the first time ever.
König begins to thrust into you quickly, his eyes traveling to watch your breast bounce with the motion. Panting hard as his body begins to glisten with sweat. Your sweet moans and sopping wet cunt driving him to his breaking point.
“Y/n,” König moans as he leans down to kiss your lips.
You move your hand from his forearm to his jaw eagerly pressing his lips into yours harder. Moaning into his mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips and begins to circle around every corner of your mouth.
You feel the same overwhelming feeling of pleasure, you know you’re about to cum. You try to turn your head to let out moans but König moves his hand from your leg to your face to keep you kissing him, his tongue dancing with yours as you begin to orgasm.
Without warning König pulls out and steps off the bed. Your body is still trying to calm down. You look at him as he grabs your legs and drags you to the edge of the bed. He rests your legs over his shoulders as his hands grasp your hips. He slips his cock back into your needy pussy and begins to thrust as hard as he can.
Your back arches and you reach out grabbing the bed sheets as you loudly moan König’s name. König has sweat dripping from his forehead as he looks down at you not being able to handle his cock.
“You can take it, Maus, I’m going to cum.”
“Please, cum. Please fuck your cock is so- big.” You moan now looking up at him. Your face contorted from the pleasure.
“Beg for it more.”
“Please cum, please cum in my tight little pussy.”
“Oh, fuck ja, mehr!”
“Please cum in me.” You whimper out as his thrust picks up even more, the sound of his hips slamming into your ass fills the room.
König listens to you beg, watching your eyes glaze over with a lustful look. He nods his head as you beg him to fill your precious little pussy full of his cum. He does.
“Y/n! Fuck!” König moans out, dropping his head back as his cock throbs deep inside of you.
.
.
“Hey sweetie, did you have a good day today?” Chris asks as he walks to you and kisses your cheek.
“Yeah, I did.” You sit still thinking about König, excited for tomorrow.
“Did you do something different with your skincare routine? You look like you’re glowing.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Well, whatever it is, you should keep doing it.”
“Oh, I will.” You smile, holding your secret.
#konig#konig x reader#konig x y/n#könig#konig cod#könig x reader#konig smut#könig smut#könig cod#könig mw2#konig x reader smut#cod konig#könig call of duty#könig x you#könig x y/n#cod smut#könig x reader smut#smut#konig x female reader#konig x you#könig x curvy reader#konig x curvy reader
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I want you back... | L. Nr
pairing : lando norris x f!reader
summary : you and lando had broke up a few months ago and you're just now moving on. Or so you thought... 'Cause that was before he decide to text you.
genre : fluff, slightly angst ?
warning : cursing, pretty sure that's all
a/n : I just loooove writting about lando. This is kinda shitty but it was fun to write hope you'll enjoy it ! Anyways taking request if you want.
You were fine, of course the break up has been really tough for you but now you could say it loud and proud : you were over it.
What a lie...
All it took was a damn text for your world to fall into piece again.
"Hey"
It was 3 AM when you screen lit up, and now that single word was making you completly crazy.
What the hell ? Why would he be texting you ? Maybe a wrong number ? Was he drunk ?
Your head was just a huge mess at the moment, that's probably because of that that you decided to answer. You clearly wouldn't have if you were in your plain consciousness.
At least that's what you were trying to convinced you.
"Hey" You text back.
"It's been a while" He answered in less than a minute.
"WTF lando ?" You couldn't help but send, this wasn't making any sense.
He was the one to broke up with you, and he hadn't even try to contact you the past months. Why would he texts you ? And why now when you were finally moving on ?
"I miss you"
You had turn off your phone after this text.
Like what were you supposed to say ? That you too you were missing him ? That in fact you were missing him so damn much it was hurting you ? That you were missing him so bad that sometimes you were calling your male friends by his name ?
You just couldn't answered that.
You were having lunch with your a few friends, yet the text just wouldn't leave your mind.
You had basically stared at it the whole morning.
"Hey, you're okay y/n ?" One of your friend asked.
"Oh yeah sorry I was just lost in my thoughts" You tried to brush it off, chuckling a little.
"You seem a bit off today, no offense but we've barely heard you" Another one of your friend spoke with a concern look on her face.
They were all nodding, as you sighed.
You should probably just told them, theywere your closest friends and it's not like you could keep that to yourself anyway.
"Lando texted me" You blurted out looking down.
A loud silence followed your confession as you saw all their eyes widened in shock.
"I'm sorry WHAT ?" One of them finally spoke.
"Lando in like LANDO ?" Another continued.
And they all followed, throwing questions at you.
You showed them the conversation, way easier and they all gasped at the last text.
"What are you gonna do ? You should probably block him" Your friend said, they seemed tp all agree.
"Yeah I should do that" You nodded.
They were probably right, that was the best things to do. They were the one who had picked you up piece by piece when Lando broke up with you.
You were gonna do just that, blocked him and he would be out of your life forever.
God you were so weak.
When you went home and were about to block him another text illuminated your screen.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, you're not mad are you ?"
You swear your fingers had just moved on their own.
"I'm not mad, I was just busy sorry" You replied, and you knew you had fucked up, that needed to stop and yet you were encouraging him.
"I'm so relieved to hear that ! How you're doing ?"
Damn why was he answering so fast.
"Just casual life nothing too entertaining, you ?"
"Pretty much the same"
It was gonna be fine, it was a simple discussion between two young adults. Nothing to worry about.
"The paddock feels empty without you" He added.
Shit. This wasn't fine at all.
"Is that so ?" You were kicking your feet like a damn teenager.
"Yeah, can't win a race without you" You knew, and he knew this was border, but to be honest you weren't caring at all.
"Can't win a race at all" You joked, you were giggling. God you've missed talking to him, even for simple discussion like that.
You shouldn't felt that way, or you were gonna end up sad again, but you couldn't help it.
"OFFENSIVE" He texted back, but you knew he was laughing.
You and Lando kept talking for hours, you were smiling at your phone like a maniac.
He was such a good talker, smooth, funny, full of charm.
He knew how to annoy you and how to make you laugh the most. He also knew how to hurt you the most.
You were currently laying in bed, watching 'pretty woman' when you got another text from your ex boyfriend.
"I really do miss you tho"
Here you were again, staring at the screen like it contained the answer to the greatest mystery on earth.
"Lando, stop that please" You eventually texted back after a few minutes.
"That what ?"
"That thing that you're currently doing, trying to make me pity you"
"Is it working ?"
"Lando..."
"Cmon y/n I'm serious, I fucking miss you, every minute of every day"
You were no longer paying any attention to the movie that was still playing on the screen of your laptop.
"YOU chosed to broke up" You remembered him.
"I know I made a damn mistake, and I'm sorry"
"You know what I don't even want to talk you anymore"
"Y/n don't do that"
"I should have blocked you already"
"But you didn't"
You were infuriating, completly messed up by too many emotions at the same time, you were sad, and angry against him, and against you too cause you were so weak for this man.
He was right, you didn't.
"Babe please, I just want you back" He sent you a few minutes later since you weren't answering.
"Should have thought about that sooner, and don't call me that"
"I'd do anything" He insisted.
"Claim me on TV and I'll think about it" You texted saracstically before turning off your phone.
You and lando had never been public, because fans could be crazy at some times and you were finding it absolutly ridiculous to brag on social media that you were in a relationship.
That's why you had said that, that wasn't making anysense. Maybe now he'll understand that this was definitly over.
Or so you thought.
When you woke up your phone was blowing up with notification.
A lot of demands on instagram and hundreds of texts from your friends.
You were so confused until you clicked on the link your friend had sent you.
It was an interview of Lando that he hade just done but the views were already so high. Why would she send you that ?
Everything become clear when right before ending the interview Lando spoke :
"Actually I want to say something before leaving, I used to date a girl Y/n Y/l/n, she was amazing but I messed up with her cause I was a complete idiot... So if you're ever seeing this please come back, I know I've been an asshole. But I really want you back"
What.
In.
The.
World.
Was.
Happenning.
You grabbed your phone and dialed his number immediatly... No answer.
"What have you done ???" You tyepd agressively on your keyboard completly freacked out.
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omg i love everything you write why you so gooddd
i wanted to know, if requests are open? i dont know how it all works, i rarely use tumblr ^^"
if yes, can we have another part of Why Ten?
Damian does not want to do this, but his father is giving him no choice in the matter. Apparently, the man thought he owed Daniel a proper apology for his behavior while under the effects of a concussion.
Why does that mean Damian was the one suffering? Ugh, he should turn back. Tell his Father he failed in the mission assigned to him and take whatever punishment it would earn him. Surely it would not be as nerve-wracking or as nauseating as standing here would be?
Damian is about to do that, turning towards the run-down porch steps when the front door swings open. Only his training stops him from stumbling in place like a fool.
A man in a purple shirt raises a brow at him. He is shockingly handsome in a near-offputting way. The part that ruins his beauty is his lack of emotional expression. Damian had seen plenty of ninjas who trained years to craft the perfect impassive mask, but even they showed some signs of humanity.
This man does not.
Damian scrambles to straighten his back and raise his chin, cursing his palms for becoming sweaty. It's a nervous tick he's never been able to control, and he really hopes the other can't tell.
After all, he is Daniel's aloof uncle. As much as he questions how involved he is in his friend's life, this man still means a lot to Daniel. Damian wants to make a good impression on him.
"Can I help you?" His voice belies his humble station, reminding Damian of the aristocrats of his upbringing.
"Is Daniel Fenton home?" Damian asks back, fighting to bite his tongue at what could have been disrespectful. He meant to ask if it was alright to see his friend, as he had come calling for him, but somehow, his panicked voice became more biting.
More like the aggressive Robin than the spoiled Wayne.
The man's face doesn't twitch, mouth firmly shut. Damian waits a few seconds before pushing more words out of his mouth. "Does Daniel Fenton live here?"
Nothing. Just a dead-set stare that seems to drag Damian's very soul out of his body. His heart rate picks up as he suddenly wishes he had brought his katana along. This is the worst mission he's ever been on.
Taking a few steps backward- not cowering! Damian Wayne does not cower- Damian stammers. "Does Daniel Fenton even live on this street?"
He is about to run for it when the man finally speaks. "Danny is in his room. You brought flowers. Why?"
Damian risks looking down at the bouquet Alfred recommended, clutched in a death grip. He had nearly forgotten about them.
Damian was unsure of the proper custom for inviting a friend for dinner as a formal apology for past behavior. His father had insisted that he be the one to request Daniel's presence as he was the one the other boy was friends with. Despite not being anywhere near prepared, he had thrown Damian out of the manor with the instructions to extend the invitation.
The young Robin quickly realized that he was severely underprepared and had chosen to seek wisdom from the sanest family member. The old butler assures him that the flowers are a class act, even if few youths participate in the effort.
The dozen red roses would make Daniel feel special and increase his chances of success.
None of which he could tell Mr. Clockwork about. So Damian settles for a helpless shrug which makes the man's other eyebrow raise. It's a bit unsettling how little emotion that action causes.
"Danny! Can you come down here?" The man doesn't raise his voice but somehow sharpens it. Damian finds himself standing at attention upon hearing it without real thought.
Was Mr. Clockwork in the military?
"What's up?" Daniel calls from further in the house. At the sound of his voice, butterflies appear in Damian's stomach. He fights not to fidget, especially with Mr. Clockwork staring him down like the grim reaper valuing a soul.
He used to think Father was intimating. Fool he.
"Dami?" His friend appears over Mr. Clockwork's shoulder. His hair is upkeep, his clothes are old and withered, and he not wearing shoes or socks.
In all cases, he does not look his best, yet still, Damian could find no fault in his appearance. Just like his uncle Daniel was unfairly, inhumanly attractive.
His heart launches in his chest when Daniel's face lights up, recognizing him a second after his confusion. "Dami! Hey, what's up?"
"I have a message for you," he hears himself say from far away, staring helplessly into his blue dazzling eyes. Mr. Clockwork narrows his eyes as Daniel tilts his head.
"Why didn't you text me then?"
"It would not be formal to request in a text. I wish to invite you to dinner." Damian blurts, watching with small horror as an emotion finally starts to build on Mr. Clockwork's face.
It's rage.
"Dinner?" Daniel repeats, his eyes flickering to the flowers in his hands. Damian, with a start, remembers he forgot to give them to him before asking. He thrusts them towards his friend, his heart actually starting to hurt from how fast it's racing. Is it hot all of a sudden?
One of the rouges must have done something to weather again.
Daniel is frozen in the doorway, staring at the outstretched flowers and Damian like he's grown a second head. This is all horrible, and he truly wishes he would die right this very second to spare him.
Father has forsaken me, Damian thinks in near hysteria It's the only explanation for forcing me to do this.
"Oh." Daniel finally breathes, taking the flowers as gently as he can. He presses his nose to them, taking a soft sniff that does not hide the tiny but bright smile growing on his face. "I'd love to have dinner with you, Dami."
Damian is fighting bile as the butterflies decide that right now is the perfect time to revolt in his stomach. He once climbed a mountain with a broken arm and no food or water, and yet, somehow, this was far more difficult. It takes three attempts to get the saliva down his throat before he can speak. "Splendid. This Friday, at seven. I shall have a car arranged to pick you up. Does that work for you?"
"It's a date," Daniel confirms, his eyes soft in a way Damian has never seen. It's a beautiful sight were it not for the utter death stare that Mr.Clockwork settles him with. Damian can't explain it, but he is sure he felt years fall off his lifeline.
"Wonderful. Good day. You too, sir." Damian doesn't fully run, but it feels like he does as Daniel waves him goodbye and Mr.Clockwork yanks him back inside, one last glare thrown his way.
It's not until hours later when he lies in his room after doing an insane amount of training to burn off the sudden energy, that Damian realizes he failed the mission anyway.
He forgot to inform Daniel that it was a family dinner hosted by his father, and the entire Clockwork/Fenton household was invited. He would have to go back tomorrow to correct himself.
He grabs a pillow to smother his scream.
________________________________________________
Bruce jerks in his seat. "Was that Damian screaming?"
"Let the poor lad be, Master Bruce," Aldred tells him without glancing up from his gardening magazine. "He is trying his best.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#dead serious#Why Ten?#Part 2#Damian didn't realize it sounded like a date#Clockwork is protective of Danny#Danny thinks it's cute#Allfred is old fashion and thinks no one has class anymore#Bruce just wanted to apologize
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Sooo what is your thought in bully sukuna x shy reader? I think it's kinda hot tho. Like imagine sukuna picking on you every day bc he is obsessed with reader 🥴😩
ENSNARED
PAIRING bully Sukuna x shy reader
WARNING slight non/con, mean Sukuna (obv), m!masturbation, jealousy, slight mentions of Jin Itadori, mentions of violence, public harassment, little comfort?, slight dacryphilic Sukuna, fingering, clit rubbing, use of nicknames (brat, slut), slight exhibitionistic Sukuna, raw sex, m!cum on f!face
"G-give that back to me," you attempt to snatch your notebook from Sukuna's grasp, but he intentionally keeps it just out of reach, smirking wickedly.
"Oh, are you truly desperate for this piece of shit?" He asks teasingly, enjoying your frustration. "Perhaps if you beg prettily, I might consider letting you have it back."
Your desperation grows with each attempt, as you frantically lunge and twist to snatch the notebook from Sukuna's skilled hands. He shifts it from one hand to the other, juggling it playfully, prolonging your torment. His eyes gleam with mischief as he watches you struggle, enjoying the power struggle between the two of you. "Beg," he urges, leaning closer to whisper the word in your ear, making the situation even more agonizing.
In your frantic attempts, you lose your balance and accidentally land on top of him. Your body settles over his lap, unknowingly straddling what seems to be a rather significant bulge beneath his clothes. Sukuna's smirk falters for a moment, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as you finally tear the notebook from his grip and scurry away, completely oblivious to the chaos you've caused. "You... you have no idea, do you?" he stammers, trying to regain his composure, a mix of embarrassment and amusement coloring his voice.
You glare at Sukuna, your eyes narrowing in anger as you hold the now-precious notebook tightly. Your cheeks red from embarassment and anger. Without another word, you turn on your heels and storm away, leaving him behind, his laughter trailing behind you.
Little did you know, the incident had left a lasting impression on him, and the game of cat and mouse between you and the school bully would continue, fueling his obsession with you even further.
As the night falls, Sukuna tosses and turns, unable to shake off the vivid memory of your accidental encounter earlier that day. His erection strains against his pants, a painful reminder of the power you unwittingly hold over him. "Damn you, little brat," he curses under his breath, frustration mixing with desire. He tries to distract himself with other thoughts, but his mind keeps returning to the image of you, sitting on his lap, completely unaware of the effect you had on him.
Unable to resist any longer, Sukuna's hand slips beneath the covers, wrapping around his throbbing member. He jerks himself roughly, visualizing your innocent face and the way your body had felt against him earlier. Each stroke brings him closer to release, and he moans softly, fantasizing about the day when he'll claim you as his own, asserting his dominance over you in every sense. The thought pushes him over the edge, and he sighs in relief as he spends himself, imagining your surprised expression when he finally makes you submit to his desires.
As he releases, a satisfied smirk graces his lips. "Soon, little brat," he murmurs, "I will.. fucking make you mine." He cleans himself up and drifts off to sleep, dreams filled with fantasies of dominating and possessing you, eager for the day when he could make you his in every way possible.
The next day, Sukuna finds himself walking down the hallway, his eyes desperately trying to locate you. He is determined to start the day by bullying you. He eventually finds you leaning against your locker, talking to none other than Jin Itadori, another nerd he picks on.
Jealousy surges within him, the sight of you with someone else igniting his possessive nature. He approaches the scene, casually inserting himself into the conversation, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Mind if I join you two? I heard there's some juicy gossip going around," he says, his eyes never leaving you.
Sukuna's arms wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close and shielding you from the boy's advances. "You want to date her? Just look at her, she's as ugly as fuck. You can do so much better than this pathetic excuse for a human." His words drip with contempt, and his tone is dismissive.
Embarrassment floods you as Sukuna's cruel words echo through the hallway, drawing stares and snickers from the surrounding students. Jin, unable to handle the situation any longer, offers you an awkward smile before retreating and leaving you alone with Sukuna. Tears start to form in your eyes, and you struggle to maintain your composure in front of your tormentor. "You should be thanking-"
With a sudden burst of anger, you slap Sukuna across the cheek, the sound reverberating through the now-silent hallway. "I hate you!" you cry out, your voice cracking with emotion. For once, the tables have turned, and the roles are reversed – now it's Sukuna who feels humiliated in front of his peers.
Sukuna's eyes flash with anger, and before you know it, he seizes your hair, his fist clenching to strike you. The room erupts in chaos as classmates rush forward to pull you and Sukuna apart. As they separate you, his eyes burn with fury, promising retribution later. "This isn't over, little brat," he growls, his voice low and menacing. In the midst of the confusion, you can't help but wonder how far he'll go to assert his dominance and exact his revenge.
After school, you are the last student in the classroom. You quickly gather your belongings and stuff them into your bag. The sooner you leave school, the sooner you can get away from the stress of the day's activities.
Just as you're about to exit the classroom, your gaze shifts left, revealing Sukuna's smirking face. He's been waiting for you to finish what you're doing so he can pounce on you; now that you're both alone, no one can stop him.
His eyes gleam with satisfaction as he grabs your wrist, yanking you back and pinning you to the ground under his weight. "Nowhere to run, little brat," he chuckles, holding you down with an iron grip. "Time for your punishment." Fear and adrenaline course through you as you struggle against him, knowing that you can't escape his grasp.
Afraid and overwhelmed, tears stream down your face as Sukuna looms over you. To your surprise, his demeanor shifts, and he hastily gets off you, cradling your trembling form in his arms. "I didn't mean to scare you," he murmurs, his voice surprisingly gentle.
You continue to sob, the mixture of fear and humiliation overwhelming you. Sukuna holds you tightly, his grip softening as he tries to offer comfort. "Please don't cry," he whispers, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back. "I won't hurt you, little brat. You just need to learn your place, that's all." Despite his words, you can't help but feel uneasy, knowing that his intentions might not be entirely genuine.
His hands cup your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your teary, puppy-like fearful eyes, your bruised lips from when he pinned you down, everything appears irresistible to him. He licks his lips as arousal surges through him, seeing you so vulnerable.
His fingers brush against your lips as he leans down to kiss your cheeks, tasting your tears. He moves further down letting his lips brush against yours. The kiss is slow and deliberate, his tongue sliding into your mouth with authority. Shock courses through you, your tears drying up as his dominance is once again asserted. But amidst the shock, a strange feeling of desire begins to stir within you, leaving you both confused and anxious.
As you recover from the shock, his kiss intensifies, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer. The unexpected intimacy leaves you both breathless and uncertain, your heart pounding in your chest. His lips are insistent, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive fervor. "You're mine, little brat," he whispers against your lips, his words laced with possession and dominance. You can't help but wonder what this new development means for your turbulent relationship.
As his lips continue their relentless assault, Sukuna's hands reach inside your skirt, his fingers tracing the outline of your thighs before finding their way to your most intimate place. Your breath hitches, the surprise and embarrassment from earlier replaced by an unwelcome arousal. "Does my little brat like that?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with satisfaction as he feels your reaction. His fingers delve deeper, his touch both demanding and thrilling. The intensity of the moment leaves you gasping for breath, your body betraying your mind's resistance.
With a triumphant smirk, Sukuna slides his finger inside you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. "So wet for me, little brat," he praises, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You should be ashamed, wanting me even after I embarrassed you in front of everyone." His words are a mix of pleasure and reprimand, further fueling your confusion and desire. You can't help but squirm under his touch, your body responding to his touch despite your mind's protests.
He thrusts his finger deeper, your walls clenching around him in response. "Such a naughty little brat.." he growls, his thumb caressing your clit. Your breath hitches, your body arching involuntarily under his expert touch. "But don't think this means I've forgiven you," he warns, his finger thrusting in and out in a slow, rhythmic pace. "You still have much to learn, and I'll teach you every lesson you need." You close your eyes, a mixture of shame and pleasure washing over you.
He lifts you up on one of the benches, bringing his erection towards your core. Your core gushing around his shaft, his groan of desire echoing through the still classroom. With a smirk, he frees his cock from his pants, the sight of it causing your breath to catch in your throat. He proceeds to rub the engorged member against your clit, his movements slow and deliberate. You try to resist, whispering a half-hearted "Wait..," but his eyes are filled with determination.
Despite your protests, he ignores your pleas and guides his member to your entrance. Forcing himself into you, he pushes past your resistance, his size causing a burning sensation. You whimper and whine, struggling against him, but his strength is overwhelming. "Quiet, little brat," he snarls, his cock stretching you wide. "Take it like the good little slut you are." You can't help but surrender to his force, your body adjusting to his intrusion as his thrusts become more forceful.
"W-what if someone..?", your voice quivering, the thought of somebody seeing you like this is almost revolting to you..
What will everyone say? The shy innocent girl getting fucked by her bully and also that she is enjoying it? Yet, you cannot deny the pleasure he is giving you. You don't want him to stop.
"No one's coming", Sukuna interrups , "Even if someone sees us, let them know you just pretend to be shy... but you are in reality a masochist slut."
The combination of pain and pleasure washes over you, your body betraying your will once again. Your protests turn into moans, your hips moving in tandem with his. The intensity of the situation leaves you breathless, your mind conflicted between desire and fear. Despite yourself, you begin to enjoy the rough ride, your body responding to his dominance.
As his thrusts become more forceful, he cups your face, his eyes locked on yours. "You feel so good, little brat," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I've fantasized about this so many times, imagining you wrapped around my cock." You blush, both mortified and flattered by his admission. "You don't know how much I like you," he continues, his words contradicting his usual cold demeanor. "Maybe too much."
His confession catches you off guard, your mind reeling from the unexpected sentiment. Despite your confusion, his words ignite a spark of affection within you. "L-like me..? then why?," you whisper, your eyes tearing once more..
Sukuna pauses, his eyes searching your face as if trying to decipher your thoughts. "You're mine, and I want you to know it," he says, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. "I'll always push you, force you to submit because I can't bear the idea of losing you." His thrusts resume, his movements fierce yet tender. "I enjoy seeing you struggle, hearing you beg, because it proves you belong to me."
He leans in, his lips grazing your ear. "It's my way of showing you how much I care, little brat," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I'll never let anyone take you from me, even if it means breaking you first." His words are both reassuring and terrifying, leaving you unsure of how to feel about this new revelation.
Despite your confusion, the intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, your body responding to his every move. His declaration has opened a door to a whole new realm of emotions, leaving you both scared and entranced by his possessiveness. The love-hate dynamic between you grows more complex with each passionate thrust, your future now intertwined with the man who both torments and cherishes you.
With a smirk, Sukuna reaches inside your shirt, his fingers finding your breasts through your bra. He kneads your nipples roughly, your breath hitching at the sudden sensation. "Such a pretty sight, my little brat writhing under me," he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck to find your lips. His kiss is both possessive and demanding, his tongue dueling with yours in a heated dance.
Your body responds to his touch, your nipples hardening in his grasp. The mix of pain and pleasure leaves you gasping, your mind clouded by the sensations. His kiss deepens, his tongue exploring your mouth, his hands roaming freely over your body. The dual assault leaves you breathless, your arousal reaching new heights.
As his kisses become more intense, so do his thrusts. You can't help but become more responsive, your body surrendering to his domination. The intimacy and brutality blend together, leaving you both exhilarated and terrified by the intensity of the experience. Your resistance melts away, your body craving the release that only he can provide.
He watches your face intently, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "That's it, little brat," he growls, "let go for me." You can feel the heat building within you, your body ready to explode.
As you reach your climax, your inner muscles contract around his cock, milking him in a rhythmic pulse. Sukuna groans, his own release nearing. With a growl, he pulls out, his seed shooting across your face in a hot spray. You gasp, your eyes widening at the sudden intrusion. "There," he says, a triumphant glint in his eye. "Now you're marked, my little slut."
Your breath hitches, the cooling semen on your face a testament to his claim. The shock of the action leaves you speechless, your mind struggling to process the intensity of the situation.
As Sukuna zips up, his eyes rake over your body, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Clean yourself up," he commands, raising a hand in dismissal before turning on his heel and striding away. You're left on the ground, still panting from your orgasm, your mind reeling from his abrupt departure.
You watch him leave, your mind reeling from the whirlwind of emotions. As he disappears from sight, you can't help but feel abandoned. With shaking hands, you wipe the semen from your face, a small part of you feeling humiliated yet another part aroused by the act. Your body still buzzes from the encounter, your heart racing. You rise slowly, your legs unsteady beneath you, and make your way back to your quarters.
Does he really like me?
The questions linger, unanswered, but you know one thing for certain - you belong to him, body and soul.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#ryomen sukuna#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jujutsu sukuna#sukuna smut#sukuna scenarios#ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen smut#jjk ryomen#sukuna ryoumen x reader#sukuna ryoumen smut#sukuna ryoumen x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#ryomen smut#ryomen sukuna x you
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Down Bad
Theo runs to the Astronomy Tower to confess his feelings for you before it’s too late.
Theodore Nott x f!Reader
Warning: fluff, no use of y/n, kissing. Inspired by the Taylor Swift song with the same title. The first paragraph may sound grim, but I swear this is a fluff piece!
✿ Masterlist | 762 words
Theodore Nott had really screwed up this time. His lungs burned and his heart pounded as he raced towards the Astronomy Tower where he was about to lose the love of his life. If he was too late, you would never know how he felt. Let alone have the future he wanted with you. No, he can’t think that way.
He allowed himself a moment catch his breath when he reached the top of the Astronomy Tower. When he saw you looking out beyond the ledge, his worst fears were confirmed. He ran towards you and grabbed your waist, holding tight as he walked backwards. You yelped in surprise, struggling against your unexpected assailant.
The struggle sends you both toppling down the floor, away from the ledge. You squirmed beneath - oh, Theo. Your breath caught in your throat when you realized he’s on top of you. Salazar, everything about him was so beautiful. You kicked yourself internally, willing your brain to catch up with your heart.
“What in Salazar’s name, Theo! What are you doing?” You seethed, angry and confused. You had been avoiding him for a week since he broke your heart. Picture this: you finally mustered up the courage to confess your feelings for your childhood best friend only to be met by silence - not even rejection, just silence. Like your feelings were not even worth his words. And now he tackles you?
“No, I should be saying that to you. What are you thinking jumping off from the Astronomy Tower? You can’t just leave me before I tell you that I love you too.” His intense gaze burned into you.
You blinked at his words, confused. “Pray tell, dear genius, what does one do at the Astronomy Tower?”
It was his turn to blink back in confusion. He looked off to your side and noticed your telescope and scattered instruments. He was too stunned to speak.
“I was doing our Astronomy homework, you dolt, which you would know about if you weren’t busy skiving off with Mattheo.”
“But Pansy said you’ve been depressed lately and was alone in the Astronomy Tower,” he thought back at the conversation. Sure, you had been down bad for him and because of him this week. You couldn’t even get through quidditch practice without crying and cursing his name.
And yet - “So you just assumed I’m going to throw my life away for you?” You scoffed. “I’ll get over you someday, but I don’t know how you’ll ever get over yourself,” you teased. It was adorable how his cheeks blushed in embarrassment though you hated how quickly your anger faded.
He buried his head into the crook of your neck to hide in shame just like all those times you’ve cuddled together. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders out of habit. “I didn’t know what I was thinking,” he admitted.
“So there is hope yet for you and your ego,” you mused before your mind snagged on the rest of his words. “Wait, did you tell me you love me?”
He raised his head and looked back at you, “I did. I’m sorry I froze when you confessed your feelings. You deserved better. I’m not good with these things, but for you I will try. I love you. Ti amo così tanto.”
“Well, you already know how I feel,” you deadpanned, trying to channel your teenage petulance despite the warmth blooming in your chest.
“I don’t get to hear it again?” He asked with a hopeful expression.
“No,” you replied, tilting your head away from him though you couldn’t help the grin in your face.
“Too bad, I was hoping to kiss you after you said it.”
You looked back at him, returning the challenge, “kiss me and maybe I’ll say it.”
So he did. Electric bliss shot through you the instant your lips connected. His lips were soft and warm, the taste of cigarettes and mint mingled together as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. You gasped at the sensation and he took the opportunity to explore your mouth.
There was nothing gentle about the kiss. It was a hundred ‘finally’s melting together into this one euphoric moment. You ran your hands through his hair, needing him closer. Needing more.
The kiss was over way too soon as he propped himself on his elbows to look at you. He saw everything he needed to know in your expressive eyes. Still, he asked, “will you tell me now?”
“No,” you bit back a smile.
“Guess I’ll just have to kiss you more.”
✿ Masterlist
A/N: A literal Down Bad moment with Theo tackling you bahahaha.
#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott#theodore nott fluff#theo nott#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#ts ttpd#ttpd#ttpd era#down bad#amongemeraldcloudswrites
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Feo, Fuerte Y Formal
Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (FLUFF!!)
CW: sickeningly sweet domestic Cooper, Pre-Ghoul copper, cursing, dancing in the kitchen, talk of marriage, talk of kids, mentions of his divorce, mention of alcohol (nothing crazy though) potential grammatical and spelling errors! Briefly proof-read! Slightly suggestive themes (cooper can’t keep his hands off his pretty girl 🤭)
AN: For all my Cooper Howard lovers who have been asking for him Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War I finally present one to you! I know most of you wanted smut, but honestly for some reason this just felt more like what Pre-War life with Cooper would feel like in my opinion. I feel as if maybe I know more of him in ghoul form to know better how to write smut for the ghoul side of him, but who knows! I may just have to come out with a part two that is just smut of him after he gets married to reader, still pre war, thoughts? 👀 anyway, I hope y’all enjoy! Hope I can do my pre-ghoul loving Cooper lovelies justice for this! 🥰
Also in celebration of international jazz day, I included jazz music! The songs Cooper and reader dance to in their kitchen incase y’all want a more immersive experience! ☺️ I know Michael Bublé’s version isn’t exactly in that time period but his version just feels so much more intimate in my opinion, but feel free to listen to the original if you wish instead!
Tag list: @expirednukacola
It was like any other day in your quaint little home. You were standing by the stove, working on food for dinner for you and Cooper waiting for him to come home from work. You were just finished up with mixing up the mashed potatoes with a mixer when you heard keys jingle in the front door to your house. You smiled giddily as you heard the door open, the clomp of Cooper’s signature cowboy boots across the linoleum floor as your man stepped inside. “Welcome home honey!” You called from the kitchen as he took his shoes off in the entrance of the house, padding into the kitchen once disposing of his work bag and cowboy hat on the hangers near the living room. “How lovely it is to see your face after a long day” he said, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You gave a contented hum as he rested his head against your shoulder before placing a sweet kiss to your cheek, not wanting to distract you from the absolute art that was your cooking. “How was work?” You asked, making him chuckle as he stood next to you, watching you as you put your heart and soul into the gravy for the mashed potatoes and pot roast finishing up in the oven. “Oh you know, the usual. Kinda pissed that ain’t nothin’ special happen today” he said, making you turn to him. “All that fuss of bringin’ you in on your day off, just for it t’ be a load a nothin’?” You asked, upset for him that they would do that to him, of course it wasn’t the first time this had occurred, he’d been called in on his days off quite often actually. But it never really upset you, not when you knew it made him happy and when at the end of the day, he’d always come home to you. “Yeah…never fails” he said, making you shake your head. “Figures. I oughta have a chat with that agent of yours to letchya off the hook every now an ‘gain. A day off is meant to be enjoyed! To relax! Not to come straight back into work with more stress than there already is to begin with” you said, making him chuckle at the threatening way you held the spatula in his direction with gravy dripping off it into the pot. “I’m sorry again we couldn’t go to that jazz concert ya wanted to go see” he said, making you somber for a moment remembering the cute plans you’d made for today since he was supposed to be off, but were ruined the moment he answered that damned phone that almost never stops ringing. “Oh don’t you sweat it, darlin’. Been listenin’ to it in the radio! Figured we could have our own little at home date and just enjoy it from the radio, whatdya say?” You asked with a hopeful smile, and he loved the way you always managed to find the positives in even the worst situations. “Sounds good to me if it’s good with you darlin’” he said, pulling you in by the hip to give you a quick, soft kiss. You smiled into it before swatting his hands as he tried to distract you from cooking by letting his hands wander. “Now now, after super, mister. Besides, I worked hard on this pot roast! I’d be cross if it went cold!” You said, making him laugh. He loved your attitude and dedication to your craft, it was just a few of the many things he loved about you truly. As a man fresh from divorce, you sure knew how to make him feel like a brand new man.
He helped you in setting everything out in the table, carrying the pot of mashed potatoes, and the gravy as you made it very clear you needed to place down the pot roast. “Everythin’ smells delicious sweet pea” he said, making you smile proudly as you set down the roast on a mitt to keep the wooden table safe from warping from the heat of the roast pan. “Mmm-MM! Damn honey, looks about as good as you” he said suavely, coming back with two glasses and a bottle of your favorite wine. “Picked this up on the way home as an apology for date night AND!” He said before excitedly going and grabbing flowers from his bag to present you with. You gasped as you saw the beautiful assortment of roses he got you, covering your mouth with your hand as you took them. “Coop! Awww, honey ya shouldn’t have!” You said, hugging him for them and the wine before he found a vase for you to put them in. “They’re gorgeous! Oh gosh you spoil me” you said, making him laugh as he held you close once taking them from your hold so he could be the center of your attention at that moment. “Anything for you honey, it’s the least I could do. Besides, you deserve a man who treats ya like I’m still trynna win ya over, an’ I’m always gonna do that” he said, smiling down at you before kissing you once more. “Well, you are certainly forgiven. Especially now” you said playfully, both of you chuckling amongst each other as he swayed you back and forth to the music. “Alright, c’mon lover boy. Let’s eat ‘fore it gets cold, yeah?” You asked with a smile before moving to sit your self-designated seats at the dinner table, smiling as you popped open the bottle of wine to pour you both a glass after helping yourself to a plate full. He gave a hum in delight at the first taste of your cooking, making you giggle as you cut into your roast before taking a bite. “You are truly a god send. How you make the most delicious food, delicious desserts, I made out” he said, making you giggle once more, a well cooked carrot on the tip of your fork. “What can I say? Mama raised a good one. She really wanted me to get married and give her some grand babies, so had a kick ass teacher” you replied, popping the carrot into your mouth once you’d finished talking with a grin stretched to your pretty lips. “Imma have to thank her myself again when I see her next then, because you are a god damn angel” he said, making you laugh as he continued to compliment you and shout pleased expletives as your delicious home cooked meal.
Once you’d both finished up with dinner, the dishes quickly found their way into the dishwasher and it wasn’t long before you both were slow dancing in your shared kitchen. You smiled up at him as the song that played when you two met, then when you first got together, and on your first date began to play. What luck it was that it would end up playing!
How lucky can one guy be?
I kissed her and she kissed me.
Like the fella once said,
“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”
You smiled and giggled as you both swayed to the upbeat song, listening to the singer who did a mighty fine impression of Dean Martin in your opinion. You watched as Cooper happily began singing along, making all sorts of funny faces as he got into it, loving the way it always made you smile.
The room was completely black.
I hugged her and she hugged back.
Like the sailor said, quote,
“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”
My head keeps spinning.
I go to sleep and keep grinning.
If this is just the beginning,
My life is gonna be beautiful.
You started to sing along with him, unable to deny just the purely happy energy almost radiating from him, as if he was singing this song and singing it about you. Your smile stretched so wide it almost hurt your cheeks, seeing those cute little dimples that rested in his when he was truly and genuinely happy.
I’ve got sunshine enough to spread.
It’s just like the fella said,
“Tell me quick: ain’t love a kick in the head?”
Like the fella once said,
“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”
Like the sailor said, quote,
“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”
My head keeps spinning.
I go to sleep and keep grinning.
If this is just the beginning,
My life is gonna be beautiful.
She’s telling me we’ll be wed.
She’s picked out a king-size bed.
I couldn’t feel any better or I’d be sick.
Tell me quick, oh, ain’t love a kick?
Tell me quick, ain’t love a kick in the head?
He smiled as he swayed you back and forth, looking at you and singing to you before twirling you in front of him, watching the skirt of your dress billow out around you as you spun. Before the song came to an end, he dipped you, holding you up with an arm resting in the dip of your lower back as your arms looped around his neck. His lips connected with yours, his heart racing as he looked at you, feeling as happy as the upbeat rhythm of the song. Your one hand cradled his cheek as you kissed, passionately and sweetly before he brought you back up. “Reminds me of the day we first met” you said with a happy smile, remembering that day well. You had been in attendance to your best friend’s little girl’s birthday party where they hired Cooper to do his titular cowboy stunts to entertain the children, but over time as the kids talked and played amongst each other, you’d bravely strewn up to him, thanks to enjoying a few martinis before hand. You’d told him how much of a fan you were, and struck up conversation with him by the radio that was playing music that the kids were dancing to and that song so happened to be one of them. You two hit it off enough that you’d actually talked all night, even after the time he was paid to be there for. “Okay you two, my wallet can only handle the great Cooper Howard for so long” your best friend said, making you blush and apologize for holding him up so long. “Say no more ma’am, I’ll get outta your hair. But you, pretty lady, I would love to keep in touch with” he said, and you could have shit your pants as he gave you a napkin with his phone number written on with. You hadn’t expected THE Cooper Howard to actually want to talk to you, let alone become something akin to friends! And yet here you were, living in a nice little house out in the farmlands with him. It was like a dream come true. It was right after that song that played, that another came through the speakers that you enjoyed dancing to. You smiled as you took his hands to lead the dance.
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance, you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
You mouthed the lyrics to the song as you focused on the intimate dance you’d both learned. His hands cascaded down from your arms, down your waist then rested on your hips as you both swayed to the rhythm. A smirk donned his lips as he recalled the first time you both ever danced to this song, as if the chemistry between you was so strong, so natural that the dance hardly even needed to be taught to you.
Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have that magic technique
When we sway, I go weak
I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have that magic technique
When we sway, I go weak
He never failed to steal your heart with the skillful way he would twirl you and dip you deeply to the loud sound of the trumpets reaching the peak at the end of that verse. You smiled up at him as your lips ghosted his, coming so close to brushing against his before pulling you back up to continue the fast paced dance to the song.
I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
When marimbas start to play
Hold me close, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance, you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
As the song came to its end, he twirled you in front of him, jumping between facing him and having your back turned to him as your feet stepped around one another’s and bodies swayed in tandem together like the fluid motion of water brushing against the sand of a beach. You smiled brightly as he dipped you once more, your arms looped around his neck as you lifted your one leg to rest against his hip, his one hand holding you up and his free one resting along the back of your thigh that rested against him. “Still got it” he said confidently, making you chuckle. “Never doubted that you did” you quipped, enjoying this intimate, peaceful moment together. “I love you, so damn much Y/N” He said as leaned down, making you grin just a little bit wider at his kind, heart spoken words. “I love you so damn much too, Cooper Howard” you said, making him hum at the use of his full name, feeling your fingers brushing his cheek as your eyes flit between his and his lips before pulling him into a more heated, passionate kiss than the ones you shared earlier. With a little wine in both of your systems and having not seen one another since the early hours of the morning, it left you rather caught up in the moment and wanting of one another.
“Before I get too carried away now, I did get ya another gift. Been hangin’ onto it for a while now, and well…it didn’t feel right to give it to ya ‘til now” he said, making you playfully slap his chest at the fact that he fussed enough over you guys missing a concert to get you so many gifts to make up for something so small. “Cooper Howard! You and the gifts, you’re startin’ to make me look like a spoiled princess!” You chewed him out, making him laugh, he knew you hated it when he fussed over you but he just couldn’t help himself. In his eyes you deserved the world, and god damn it would he make sure he could give it to you. “I do it ‘cause I want to, honey. Don’t you worry” he said, making you stand with your hands on your hips giving him a playful glare. “Just close your eyes for me, would ya sugar? And before ya chew me out some more, I think you’ll find that you’re gonna love it” he said sweetly, and of course you did what he asked, ever curious of why he was playing this gift up so much. “If you’re tryin’ to play any moves on me, might I remind you that the kitchen blinds are still open? Don’t need to be givin’ Betty-Sue and her husband Harold a view straight from one of them magazines” you said, making him give a hearty laugh in response. “Well maybe I should close the blinds then, but I got a feelin’ it’ll have you screamin’ in a different kinda way sugar” he replied, and you couldn’t help the blush that tickled to your cheeks. “Well now you got me guessin’” you said, a little anxious now to see what it was he’d gotten for you. “Well then stop guessin’. Open your eyes and find out” he said, and the gasp that left your lips you swore could have been heard from the next house down. “Cooper!!” You yelled loud enough to also likely be heard a few doors over, with tears coming to your eyes as you saw him standing there on one knee, a gorgeous diamond ring resting in the box he had outstretched to you. “Oh my god, Coop…you did not” you said through chuckles and happy tears, making him beam up at you. “I sure did. I’d be doin’ you, myself, and your mama one hell of a disservice if I didn’t put a ring on that gorgeous finger a yours for all the things you done for me. You stuck by me through all the nasty shit in the divorce, you’ve done nothin’ but love and care for little Janey as if she were your own, and by god if you ain’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever gotten the honor of knowin’” he said, making you cover your mouth with your hands as you listened to him. “You got my whole heart Y/N, even when I thought none of it was left, you found it and put it right back together. And that’s a whole hell of a lot more than what this ol’ boy could ever ask for” he said, making you chuckle at him calling himself old when he wasn’t really. “So whatdya say? Will you marry me?” He asked, making you shake your head yes about as vigorously as you could without running the risk of getting whiplash. “Yes! A million times yes. I’ll marry you Coop” you said, making him smile as he picked you up in his arms, twirling you both around in celebratory fashion with shared happy laughter. As he set you down, he kissed you once more before sliding that gorgeous diamond ring on your finger. You smiled as you looked down at it, so overjoyed, so overflown with love you just couldn’t help but kiss him again. “It’s beautiful Cooper, thank you” you said sweetly, making him pull your hand up to his lips as he pressed them to your knuckles. “No, thank you sweetheart. For everything you do for this stubborn son of a gun” he said, making you giggle once more at him before pressing your forehead to his, closing your eyes to enjoy the peaceful quiet in this beautiful, intimate moment together.
“Well shit, I suppose you’ve done and earned the right to dessert now after everything” you said teasingly, breaking the silence and making him whistle excitedly at the prospect of what your words had in store. You yelped in surprise then laughed as he picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your shared bedroom with all the excitement of a couple still in their honeymoon phase. You supposed now it wouldn’t be long until you actually had a honeymoon with him. “Cooper! Good lord! You are just full of it today” you said through laughs as he brought you into the bedroom, grinning as he closed the door behind him with his foot. The poor man just couldn’t get enough of you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. “Don’t get me wrong I love your cookin’ sugar, but I’d be a lyin’ sack a shit if I said havin’ you for dessert afterwards wasn’t my favorite part” he said, making you laugh as he set you on the soft, king sized bed you two shared. “Well then come get a piece of your future bride then, cowpoke” you said with a smirk, and he ain’t never grinned wider than after hearing those words leave your mouth.
#fallout#cooper howard#fallout x reader#cooper howard x reader#asks#the ghoul#the ghoul x reader#fallout tv series#fallout tv show#Spotify
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──౨ৎ ˙💌 ̟ hallway crush (Ep.1)
엔하이픈 | Enhypen | Nishimura Riki
──Pairing: idol!niki x afab!idol!reader
──Genre: fluff, angst
──Synopsis: Hybe is home to many idol groups including Enhypen and Jung Y/n's group, Star Stride. Most of the idols are friends from being a part of the same company. Suddenly, Nishimura Riki is enamored by the beauty of a girl who has never even thought about him.
──Warnings: cursing
──A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I know this was meant to be a oneshot but I had too many ideas and now it's being turned into a series. Whoops... FOLLOW FOR CHAPTER 2 !!!
masterlist
Nishimura Riki strode through the halls of the Hybe building. The sounds of footsteps and typing coming from the big open staff room. An exhausted sigh fell from his lips. He had just gotten finished with his private dance lessons and was on his way back to his dorm. The other Enhypen members had been waiting to serve dinner. It was already 8:46pm. Before Riki had started taking extra dance lessons, the members would eat together at 8. Despite telling them to just eat without him, they decided against it and stated that they would all wait for him to get home every weekday. Now Riki was rushing down the hallway to get home so him and everyone else could eat.
The boy quickened his steps. He didn't want the other members to wait for him for too long. Looking down at his phone, he almost didn't notice the girl he was about to run straight into. As soon as he lifted his head, he was face to face with the girl, only a few inches away from colliding. Riki quickly weaved to get out of her way. The gaze of her big pretty eyes flickered to him only for a split second as they both stepped to the side to avoid running into each other. In the passing moment he had seen her, he got a glimpse of just how gorgeous she was. She bowed quickly before running off. Her hair bounced slightly with each lively step she took. She was absolutely breathtaking.
Then it hit him that he had never even seen that girl before. His mind began racing with the endless possibilities. Could she be a staff member? She was way too pretty and fashionable to be a staff member. So then was she an idol? If so, he had never even noticed her up until now. He was so sure that he knew all the other Hybe idols. After a lot of thought, he decided to safely assume that she was from the new group that had debuted a few months ago.
In a hurry, he made his way back to the dorm where the other members had been waiting. Though he was no longer concerned with how long he had made them wait. All he wanted to do was figure out who that girl was. As soon as the door slammed open, Riki was already yelling to his band mates from the doorway.
"What's that new girl group that debuted this year?" He asked, throwing off his shoes.
"Star Stride. We literally have a show with them in two weeks." Jake yelled back, telling him to pay better attention. The others laughed at his ignorance.
"Star Stride... great. Thanks." He said quickly.
"Dinner is on the counter. I just took it back out of the oven because it-" Without another word, Riki made his way to his dorm room. He cut Heeseung off, shutting the door behind him. "...got cold. God damn it Riki." The rest of the members gave acrimonious groans, and sighs as he left them there to eat alone after they had waited for him for an hour.
In his room, Riki plopped down onto his bed, already searching for Star Stride on his phone. He opened Spotify and pressed play on their most recent album. While the music played, he began looking up the members, hoping to find the girl from the hallway. Of course he had to find out who you were. Star Stride had 5 members since a star has 5 points. Finally, after looking up 4 other members, he had looked up Star Strides main rapper. The girl was identical to the girl he had seen in the hallway. Riki quickly sat up in his bed, eyes wide as he scrolled through pictures of her.
"Jung Y/n. She's even the main rapper?" he muttered to himself, cupping a hand to his face to hide the smile creeping onto his lips. He was already flustered by the similarities the two of them shared. With his heart racing in his chest, he couldn't help but stare at the beautiful pictures of her from Star Strides most recent album. He was so focused on her that nobody could get him to leave his dorm room for the rest of the night. Not even to eat the dinner that they had all waited to eat.
For the next few days, Riki would roam the hall he had last seen Jung Y/n in. He would patrol that one hallway from 8:30pm until 9 o'clock in hopes to see her again. While pacing the halls, he would plan what he would say to the girl the next time he saw her strolling down the same hallway. The other members were already mad at him for skipping dinner last night. Now they were even more frustrated when he had started coming home even later than he had promised. Riki had better plans than sitting and eating dinner at a reasonable time. His infatuation had become a concern when he had skipped dinner for the third day in a row. He just had to see Y/n again. There was no way he could calmly eat without seeing her again.
It had been around a week since he had seen y/n for the first time. He hadn't seen her again yet but Riki wasn't giving up hope. In the past week, he had come up with a whole script for what he would say to her. He had even planned out how to look cool so maybe she would think he was handsome. What a sly boy.
Then he saw the same beautiful girl round the corner. There she was. Walking in the same direction she had been walking the last time Riki saw her. She was stunning. Her hair was now in a high ponytail that swayed behind her as she strode down the hallway. Her pretty eyes were focused on the stack of papers in her arms. She was quickly getting closer to Riki. This was his chance to talk to her. She was only a mere 10 feet away from him. Then 5. Then 2. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He was completely frozen in place. He could only mutter a small "ah-". Y/n saw Riki and bowed, giving a quick hello before walking off just like the last time.
Fuck
He had screwed up his one chance to talk to her. Riki had waited a whole week for this moment and of course he had to choke up and let the chance slip through his fingers. Giving a heavy sigh, Riki slapped a palm to his forehead. Going after her would be weird and calling out to her would disrupt the staff room. He was at a dead end. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he shoved his hands into his pockets, walking back to the dorms in defeat.
About to round the corner to the staircase, he huffed in frustration before he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a timid Y/n staring up at him through thick dark lashes. His mouth went dry and all the moisture had gone to his palms which were sweating profusely. He gulped almost comically and he worried that she had noticed his nervousness. It was really her, Jung Y/n, and she was right in front of him. She had purposefully stopped him to talk to him! Riki felt like he was dreaming. She cleared her throat before speaking, breaking Riki from his trance.
"Uh.. You're Nishimura Riki from Enhypen, right?" She asked formally. Her voice was small and shy. The complete opposite of what he had expected from the main rapper of Star Stride. She was also insanely cute and petite compared to his height. He expected a rapper to be more mature in looks. But this girl looked sweet and fragile. When he didn't answer, she tilted her head slightly, awaiting a response.
"O-oh yeah. Just call me Riki. You don't have to speak formally." he chuckled nervously, looking anywhere but at the girl in front of him. If he gave in and looked at her, he feared he might get lost staring at her features once again.
"I just wanted to tell you that it's an honor to be on a show with Enhypen next week." She explained, bowing deeply. Rikis eyes widened at how kind and pure-hearted she was. But before he could even respond, Y/n was off in the direction she had been going before.
Suddenly he was overjoyed to have Enhypen featured on a show with Star Stride.
(Riki talks about speaking formally because, even though this is written in english, they are speaking korean. In korea, you are expected to speak formally to everyone unless you are extremely close. Of course Y/n and Riki aren't close so Y/n uses formal speech. Riki tells her to speak casually but until stated otherwise, she will continue to speak formally with honorifics.)
© strawberrynull, 2024. Do not copy my work. Please DM for permission before translating or reuploading. Thank You
#enhypen#enha#kpop#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enha x reader#enha fluff#enha imagines#enhypen angst#enha angst#enhypen niki#niki enhypen#niki#niki x reader#niki fluff#niki imagines#niki angst#nishimura riki#riki#enhypen riki#riki x reader#riki imagines#riki fluff#riki angst#enhablr#strawberrynull#sim jaeyun#sim jake#jake sim
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hello hello lovely
saw that your requests were still open, and I’m craving Aegon. need your precious writing to revamp my love for him 💓
could I request chubby!Aegon where the reader becomes jealous and he makes it up to her? don’t have anything specific in mind just along those lines. I need that big boy to grovel 🫠
thank you, appreciate you 💋
- @lovelykhaleesiii xo
Anything for you my helina🥰🥰loved writing this
Rating: Explicit
Tags: TW: mention of overeating, mentioned weight gain, chubby!aegon, au!no war, northern reader, pwp, Aegon being aegon, breeding kink, pnv!sex, certified boob man aeg ii, lactation kink mentioned, creampie
Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @lovelykhaleesiii @dr-aegon @starogeorgina @jamespotterismydaddy @elaratyrell @zaldritzosrose @sugarpoppss2 @saintaegon @fairysluna @targaryen-madness
Aegon could put on a farce with the best of the mummers. He was all smiles and drunken japes at dinner. Talking, eating, talking, eating, and his favorite— drinking. Your husband’s abilities appeared to grow along with his new titles. He was a king now and certainly filled the part.
You sat next to him with a pinched face, carefully sipping your wine. Aemond looked on with barely concealed disgust, sharp features twitching. He raised a brow at you, jerking his sharp chin toward your husband. Aemond’s need for control might be worse than your own. The king was the king, there was not much you could do outside the bedroom. Aegon was chatting with Lord Jason Lannister. You despised the Westerman and what he represented, the Northron blood in you appalled at the South’s materialism.
Jason snorted, “Well, you’ve heard of the petulant princess down in Dorne hm? Fashions herself the new Nymeria. Heard she’s quite beautiful.”
Aegon replied around a gulp of wine, “Is it them or the Iron Islanders that take on all those wives? She can join my harem. I do know the Dornish are easy, much easier than mine own wife.” He leaned forward on thick arms to jest, “Pray tell, what’s this Martell’s name? Mayhaps I’ll send a letter.”
The pair guffawed. You quietly put your cup down and excused yourself. Aegon called after you between his giggles, “My love! Come on! Take a damn joke, yeah?”
You seethed, blood icy at his embarrassing behavior. He knew better than to insult you, his queen, the one he came crying to when times got hard. Your kingsguard filtered in behind you, scrambling to catch up. Ser Darklyn’s questions were ignored.
Safe in your chambers, you pulled down the kady bar. Rage unfurled beneath your skin— you would not show it to him. You never did unless it was a slap to his full cheeks. A tear fell, the droplet smacked away like a pest. You’d go to sleep, Aegon could wait until you’d calmed.
“Fucker. Southron cock-gargler.”
As expected, his familiar presence came to crawling. Well, flopping onto your bed with his weight, the ropes creaking as he cursed lowly. Aegon cursed, “Fuckin’ damn- beds!” You jerked up your legs, sitting upright to light a candle, blinking the little sleep out of your eyes.
The blonde frowned at the dim light, chubby cheeks pooching at the movement. He wore a simple linen shirt and breeches, white hair all mussed. You frowned at your thoughts turning soft, as your lord husband looked handsome in the gentle lighting.
Aegon murmured, thick fingers circling your ankle, “Are you upset? I was merely joking.”
“No, go on, take a mistress from every great house if you so desire, my king.”
His violet eyes rolled at your acrid reply, the man coming closer to your position. He sighed, “I don’t plan on it, why would I do that?” Narrowing your eyes, you threw a pillow at his head to escape further across the bed. Aegon grunted as he was pelted, the blonde casted a bewildered look your way, brows pinched.
“I don’t want to hear it, that was shameful to speak as if I were not there, go away Aegon,” you hissed.
He groaned loudly, hand running through his wild waves. The king asked, face dead serious “Do I need to beg? Hm? My frozen queen of the north is the only one I’m fucking. Sweetling wants to see me grovel?”
Your stomach fluttered at the thought, eyes flicking to his earnest expression across the bed. You sniffed quietly, holding out a hand, “Yes. I want you to beg for me. Then maybe I’ll forget the slight. You talk like such a whore at the table yet you forget who rules your cock.”
He moaned, eyes rolling at the words before taking your hand and lowering himself with a grunt. Aegon looked up through his lashes, plump lips pink and perfect. He murmured, “Can’t believe you. Lady wants me to grovel. All I do is think about my wife day and night.”
You stared him down, pleased so far.
“I’m not seeing anyone, nor do I care to. I’m not some young little slip anymore. Too busy eating your cunt than diving into every hole up the street of silk, yeah? Maybe that’s why I can’t close my belt?”
You moaned, “I didn’t make you, ah, you do that Aegon.”
“Mhm, that’s why you slide me extra cake. Now, what was I saying,” he was kissing an ankle now, carefully holding your leg, “Why would I go get some bratty Dornish nymphet, or any other lady for that matter? I’ve fucked a babe into you twice now. It’s a bit intoxicating watching you ripen up with my seed.”
You whined at that, resolved to break soon. Being pregnant with the children was some of your fondest moments. Some most erotic from your insatiable husband. His increased weight? Likely came from him drinking your tits up every night before each babe.
Aegon hummed, eyes blown with lust, lips at your knee. The king rasped, “I’d like to fuck more into you tonight if you’ll forgive me, I only love my queen. Always and truly ever you, sweeting. Mayhaps twins? Your teats will be quite ripe for me then.”
You gasped and pulled his shoulders, Aegon already knew the intention as he hiked up your shift and yanked it off. In a flurry of movement, you pulled at the strings on his breeches while he exposed his thickened body. He was stout, not necessarily a true softling. It made the king more intimidating, with wide hips and a sturdy midsection. You loved it.
“Uh-huh, you’re gonna fuck twins into me? That’s a way to make up for being an absolute t-twat.”
You tried to hiss but there was no real heat, especially with his soft lips against your neck, gluttonous hands on your tits. Aegon pressed your naked form into the bed, his flushed cock snug against your thigh. Delicate white hair tickled at your neck as you squirmed. The king’s bulk had you utterly pinned, stocky thighs keeping your legs open.
He nipped at thin skin, laughing, “Where’s all the cold anger hm? Needed to be coddled and warmed up? You’re no better than me, love.”
Another shiver ran up your spine, goosebumps erupting atop your skin. You hooked a leg around his cushy waist and gritted, “Kiss me dammit. You were the ass here.” He laughed again, lips searching your own, the familiar plush a balm to your stung pride.
You opened up for him, lips lazily caressing against Aegon’s more insistent kisses, tongue bullying its way in. He gripped at your waist, rutting a few times against your cunt. The bulbous tip catching your clit made you whine and cling to his fleshy sides.
The Targaryen breathed, “Never takes you long to get all nice and slick for me huh? Turn your nose up but your pussy gets wet. Every. Damn. Time.” He punctuated his words with jerks of his hips and grinned as you cursed his name, arching into his soft belly.
You rolled back against him, demanding, “Enough talk, you’re here to make it up. Ah, careful,” you chastised as he pulled one of your tits up to bite at your budded nipple, “Fuck me dammit! Breed me up then!”
Aegon grinned sharply, cooing, “Why didn’t you just say so, dearest? I’ll make sure you take it all.”
He shoved a pillow under your flared hips, pressing gentler kisses on any available skin. Aegon huffed as he jerked his hand under a heavy stomach to grab his cock, guiding it into your soaked cunt. Your knees tightened up around him, exhaling a shaky moan.
He never failed to fill you up perfectly, with a girthy cock that he well knew how to use. Aegon groaned, lashes fluttering as he bottomed out, “Mmm, fuck, always so godsdamn soaked for your king.” One of his big hands clapped down on your ass— you threw your head back as he began to fuck you in earnest.
Aegon was an…excitable lover. He was mouthy and rough, a true passion of his to empty his balls into cunt. Thankfully, it was yours and yours only for the past years. You panted against his soft jaw, nipping at the flesh as he stretched your walls out, tip dragging against the tender ridges and spongey spots.
He angled you further, allowing his lower tummy to rub and stifle your bundle of nerves. You cried out his name, heaving as Aegon paid no heed, single-minded determination across his face. Shivers wracked your spine, shooting down your spread legs.
“Mhm, that’s my baby, shaking all over, needed my cock to settle you down? You say I’m needy. Yet your body screams for more.”
“F-fuck Aegon, quit it, oh gods!”
He took your lips again, sweat building up between you two as passions grew frantic. You keened. “Breed me, love, want more babes, make me yours again and again- hnn- mm!” Blood suffused your face, irritably hot as you registered the wanton pleas.
Aegon doubled down, hands pressing your thighs up, bending your stimulated frame. His belly still sat heavily on your clit, sparks of pleasure muddling any sort of coherence. Aegon was panting now, hair damp with exertion. He growled, “Yeah, yeah, gonna keep you full mama, let the kingdom see how well my queen takes my seed. Gods, gods, fucking hell, gonna fill you up. Plug ya’ so you don’t leak.”
You whimpered as your belly was awash with intense sensation, bundling nerves ready to fire. Aegon’s rambling about you being his perfect queen and good mama throttled you to the precipice, pussy clamping down on his cock. You wanted it all, your cunt was milking him for it. Seeking that hot feeling of his spend coating your sore insides.
“Fucking others!,” came your howl— your delirious thoughts catapulting you into gushing all over Aegon with a squeal. The king stuttered and cursed, a broken moan leaving swollen lips. He surged forward, dragging his tip against your cervix, face cutely scrunching as he emptied, shaking and moaning your name.
His spend was molten hot and overfilling your cunt, Aegon selfishly feeling around the side of the bed, crushing your overwhelmed body. He whined, “Fuuh-uck, love, feel too good, hold on.” You furrowed your brows before surprise hit your features.
That motherfucker was going to plug you up.
His lidded eyes danced as he drawled, “I wanted twins, mama.”
You squirmed and mewled when his cock left and a cold wedge replaced it. He shushed and pet you, kissing you tenderly as you grew used to the foreign object. You could feel his seed stuffed inside— trying not to dwell on it so hard. Aegon flopped onto his back, pulling your body snugly against his soft, warm one. You murmured, “That was some hell of an apology. Bastard.”
He sleepily murmured, “M’sorry dove, was mean. I’ll do better,” he squeezed you tight and planted a kiss on the crown of your head, “Only for my queen. Mmh, pray to your old gods— papa wants twins.”
You snorted, biting back laughter at his outright silly statement.
“Mhm Papa, prayers coming up. Sot.”
#hotd fanfic#hotd smut#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii x reader#chubby aegon#Aegon ii targaryen x reader#Aegon ii imagine
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The Fallout
pairings: gojo satoru x reader (gojo pov)
synopsis: your best friend, gojo satoru, comes back from a mission to find out that nanami kento has resigned from being a sorcerer and has left you.
content: (2.5 k), SFW, comfort, fluff, and whole lot of angst. ex-boyfriend? nanami, best friend gojo, and brother geto. contains jjk anime spoilers.
a/n: and here we have the ripple effect series! this is the aftermath of this fic. i’m going to continuing writing this story over time so strap in y’all! staying away from chapters as we'll be jumping around the timeline.
<3
Although he would never be quick to admit it, Gojo Satoru loves being home. Even with all of the memories that flood his mind as he walks through familiar spaces — hallways, classrooms, the gymnasium, the sparing field, the courtyard — many are all too painful to think about for too long, but he can’t help but indulge in the familiarity. Satoru is not quite sure if he has ‘loved-ones’, but the people that are close to him, those that could potentially fill that void, he knows are here at Jujutsu Tech.
On his way home from a week-long mission, Satoru knew who to look for first, as he owed two specific sorcerers a very happy graduation. He didn’t know how exactly he was going to go about it at first. Obviously he would try to give Nanami a hug, no wait, maybe he will leap into his arms and shower his face with kisses. No, he wouldn’t be able to get that far before Nanami shoves him off. Maybe he shouldn’t scare him off, as it was highly likely that Nanami would become his right-hand man.
You, on the other hand, were a little different. Satoru couldn’t help but think about you every moment he was gone, as he couldn’t shake the guilt of him, your best friend, not being there for your graduation ceremony. The moment the mission paperwork was placed on his desk, he cursed the higher-ups for being so careless. The smile you gave him in reassurance that you understood only made him feel worse.
Making his way inside the main building, Satoru can’t help but notice the lack of cursed energy around. He feels you somewhere in the distance, in your dorm maybe? Are you alone?
He feels the familiar cursed energy of another quickly approaching, and turns to give Yaga a quick wave and a smile as he turns around the corner. Although Satoru’s eyes are currently covered in white wrapping, his six eyes allow him to see Yaga’s puzzled expression clearly.
“Gojo,” Yaga approaches him quickly, and Satoru begins to worry that he’s going to be sent out on a mission just as quickly as he returned, “you’re back, good.”
“What is it?” Satoru is worried, but his tone doesn’t reveal it, “You sound more serious than usual, I didn’t know that was possible.”
Satoru notices the way Yaga nervously pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, and how his eyes are focused on the wood floor beneath their feet. Whatever this is, it’s not good.
“Some… events have transpired since you’ve been gone,” he starts, “have you heard the news?”
“I-uh.. no, I haven’t.” What on earth could this be about now? Satoru’s eyes widened slightly, a terrible thought crossing his mind, “Everyone is okay right?”
“Everyone is safe, Satoru, don’t worry about that.”
Satoru notices how he replaces the word okay with safe.
“I’m surprised she didn’t contact you,” Yaga begins, “I’m afraid I have some news about what transpired after graduation.”
Satoru stays silent, letting him continue.
Scratching the back of his head, Yaga lets out a deep sigh before speaking, “Nanami Kento has resigned. He is no longer a sorcerer and has vowed to not use any cursed energy any longer. He had a meeting with me before the ceremony, said that he would graduate, but his time with us would end there. He’s going to return to… normal life. We were told to not try and contact him, which includes you, Gojo.”
Instinctually, Satoru unravels the wrapping around his eyes, needing to be able to see everything, to absorb all the information. This couldn’t be.
He first looks for Nanami. No, he’s not here on campus, he’s somewhere else, he’s in… Kabutocho?
His eyes shift to you, pinpointing you more directly than he did before. Yes, you’re here. In your room, on your bed, in the fetal position, alone.
Alone.
Satoru feels a familiar pang in his chest. His grip tightens around the white fabric in his grasp, threatening to stain red.
Him. Yaga. In the hallway. A decision made without him, without considering what he’d have to say. What he could’ve done to make it better. How he could’ve helped. How he could have made him stay. Why didn’t he stay?
“I’m sorry, Gojo, but it was his decision, and he has the right to have the final say over his own life.” Yaga’s words are softer, trying to calm him down.
“To hell he does!”
-
Satoru slowly makes his way to your room, taking his time to gather his thoughts, not exactly sure what he plans to say to you. He tries to think back to before, the days and weeks after Suguru left. That situation was much different, so many layers, so many people affected by the loss. Although it’s hard to imagine, if anyone was hurt more than himself by Suguru's actions, it was you.
It was so much worse for you.
Suguru Geto, in an act of self righteousness, slaughtered his own parents, who were your own parents. A brother and sister who once shared the same home, the same beliefs and sentiments, the same blood, only to have one betray the other in one of the worst ways imaginable.
You tried to stop him, but you were weak then. When they found you, you were sprawled out on the floor unconscious in a pool of your parents blood. All of your limbs were broken, and you had severe head trauma. The only reason why you were still alive was because you were a sorcerer. Suguru would have finished the job otherwise.
When Satoru heard the news, and confronted Suguru on the street that day, all he had to say about the state he left you in had Satoru reeling.
“She’s a damn fool.”
Shoko spent days healing you, and you were in recovery for weeks. Satoru would visit, but no words would be exchanged. You already knew what the other was thinking. From then on, Satoru vowed to always take care of you, but he didn’t anticipate how close you two would become in the process.
Maybe it was a trauma bond, maybe it was just growing up, either way, he cherishes your friendship completely. You were like Suguru in so many ways, all of the good ones at least.
That’s probably why he was so quick to notice the way Nanami would look at you, the way he would act around you. How every word spoken to you was underlined with want. Much like the way he himself would act around Suguru.
So why? Why the hell would he leave you too?
Finally, he makes it to your door. Not sensing any movement, he figures it’s best to let himself in quietly.
It’s midday, but the room is so dark. Your curtains are drawn and the lights are off. Just a small sliver of light makes its way through, the line resting over your body on the bed in the corner of your room and up the wall of posters. Your eyes are closed, but Satoru’s gut tells him you’re not sleeping.
He steps closer, letting the door close behind him with a faint click. That’s when your eyes quickly snap open to find Satoru at the end of your bed.
Your eyes are bloodshot. There are black smudges over your eyelids, makeup probably. Your hair is a mess. And you're wearing… a dress?
Oh. Oh darling. It’s been days.
Satoru can’t help the way his head tilts to the side when he meets your gaze.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he speaks softly, trying his best not to let his despair for you seep through.
That’s when he sees it, the accumulation of the past three days, and maybe even a bit of your past, boils and bubbles out of you.
“Toru,” your nickname for him falls from your mouth in a gasp, then you start to sob. He watches as you curl into yourself more, gripping your sheets tighter to your chest.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Satoru moves around the bed and leans over you, fingers brushing the hair from your face to get a better look, “shhhhhhhhhh, hey, shhhhh, it’s alright, it’s going to be okay.”
His heart breaks for you. This world, being a sorcerer, is often so cruel. He just doesn’t understand why it always has to be you on the receiving end.
Satoru watches as you look up to meet his concerned stare, and he can’t help but notice how similar you two look. It’s not specifically your features that remind him of Suguru, it’s how you try so hard to hide your emotions behind your usual calm facade. When his eyes meet yours, he can tell how hard you're trying to shove your pain back inside you. For who’s sake? He’s still unsure.
Satoru was too dumb, too caught up in ensuring he became ‘the greatest’ to notice how far Suguru had fallen from grace. He wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
He doesn’t wait for you to explain. Kneeling down on the floor of your bedside, he rests his head on the mattress, face inches from yours. His fingers play with the ends of your hair as he looks in your eyes.
“Yaga told me what happened,” he starts, “I wish you would have called me, but I understand why you didn’t. I just got back not too long ago, I was expecting to find you two together.”
Finally, you speak again.
“Did he… did he say anything to you about leaving?” Your eyes leave Satoru’s as you ask this, probably afraid of what you might hear. Gojo smiles internally at the way you begin to fiddle with the end of his sleeve.
“No,” Satoru’s tone is unwavering, “he never said anything to me about leaving. I’m led to believe that this is a decision he made in his mind not too long ago.”
Satoru and Nanami were not close, per se. But Satoru knows him to be a good man, and he would have never strung you along like this if he knew he was leaving from the jump.
At least, that’s what he hopes.
He watches as your body relaxes a little, sinking deeper into your mattress. He knows that you’re probably not ready to talk about everything just yet, and that’s more than okay. What wasn’t okay was that state you’re in right now.
“I know this is the last thing you want to do, but how about I take you to the showers?” His hand comes up from the ends of your hair to cradle the top of your head.
“Do I really smell that bad?” you fake pout. Your lips curl up just enough to relieve just a little of Satoru’s worries.
“Ha, no, I just think it would make you feel better.”
“Hm, yeah okay.”
Satoru gives you space as you rise up from bed, walking to your drawers to pull out some new clothes to wear. He notices how you dig far down into the drawer, obviously looking for something specific. His heart sinks when you pull out a familiar pair of large black sweatpants and a white t-shirt.
How strange that we still find comfort in those who have hurt us the most.
Satoru walks with you to the communal showers, leading you just a step ahead with his hands in his pockets. His head hurts a little from having his blindfold off for so long, but he doesn’t want to put it on just yet. Maybe it’s his way of letting you know that you have the floor to be vulnerable with him, to look him in the eyes and know you have his undivided attention.
Satoru hears you softly clear your throat before speaking.
“What are you going to do now?” you ask timidly.
Please don’t leave me yet. That’s what Satoru knows you really mean.
He thinks for a moment.
“Well since I just got back, I think I’ll have a quick shower as well, get this curse stench off of me. Then, I'm going to take Megumi and Tsumiki out to dinner since I haven’t seen them in a week. Probably check up on their place too, restock the fridge and whatnot.”
Satoru watches as you shift in your stance a little, hugging your fresh clothes to your chest.
“Of course, they will want to see you. If you’re up for it.”
Your face lights up, just a little. Good.
The kids, especially Megumi, are absolutely smitten with you. Ever since Satoru told you that he became the benefactor of two young kids, one to be sold off to the Zenin, you asked him if you could tag along to visit them.
Saying yes was the best thing he’d ever done, because he quickly realized that he’s kind of a terrible parental figure. He handles the finances and the fun, you take care of everything else. You help them with their homework, brush their hair, pick out their clothes, cuddle them, read them stories, teach them how to cook, and so much more. Although you both are relatively young yourselves, you’re like their parents.
Heck, after this, Satoru thinks it might be best to get you out of living at Jujutsu High. He’ll buy a house for you and the kids, so you can all be together. Yeah, it might be weird in the future if you bring a romantic interest home, but you can cross that bridge when you get there.
“Yeah, I want to see them. It will help take my mind off things.”
“Then it’s settled,” Satoru playfully claps his hands together, “we’ll hit the showers, change, and head out of here.”
Satoru turns on his heels, but before he starts to walk away, he feels you grab him by the elbow. Turning his head back at you with a confused look, your eyes are shield by the hair fallen in front of your face. In one swift movement, you’re hugging him from behind, one arm wrapped around his torso, holding him close.
“Thank you, ‘Toru,” you mumble into the fabric of his jacket.
Satoru places his hand over yours.
“I’ll always be here for you, sweets.”
-
Both of you walk together in matching sweats, owned by the man who once was the only thing you had in common, towards the apartment. It is late afternoon, the sun now behind the mountains to the west. It’s warm with a light breeze in the air. If circumstances weren’t as they were, you’d be so happy right now.
The silence was nice, comforting. You look over to watch Satoru’s hair ruffle in the breeze, getting a whiff of his sickly, sugary-scented vanilla shampoo.
It crosses your mind for a moment how thankful you are that he’s here with you right now. Without him, you’d still be rotting in bed, picturing the back of Nanami’s head as he walked away from you in the courtyard that day.
Nanami.
Your heart lurches a little. You bring your hand up to your chest, clutching the fabric there.
As if on cue, you feel Satoru’s arm sling over your shoulders, holding you closer to him as you walk side by side.
Right, Satoru’s here and you’re content.
Content is all you need.
#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo#jjk fic#nanami kento#geto suguru#kento nanami#nanami kento x reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk#jjk angst
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