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mrpenguinpants · 1 year

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Look, but don't touch. [ Harbinger Edition ]

— You're the only one who's allowed to touch him. Likewise, he's the only one that's allowed to touch you.

— Childe, Pantalone, Scaramouche, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

This is written before the Sumeru quest. Harbingers are their own warning.

This was a fever dream, incredibly self-indulgent, don't talk to me about this ok. Honestly don't even wanna tag people in this (´。＿。｀)

Tartaglia

Childe is friendly but he always keeps himself at arm's distance from anyone who isn't his family. The kind of guy that acts like he loves everyone but he truly doesn't like anyone. Always polite but never kind. He won't be outwardly hostile if one of the cicin mages decides she wants to try her luck and cuddle up to him, he sort of admires her bravery, but the hardened stare and indifferent response are awkward enough for anyone to bail halfway.

So what a surprise to everyone when it's Childe himself that pulls you into him. It's not a friendly hug either, he quite literally drags you into his embrace as soon as he sees you, locks his arms around your waist, and spins you around. Before he catches himself and gently settles you down and pretends as if he didn't boldly announce to everyone that you're special.

He is a harbinger at the end of the day so any intimate relationships he has need to be hidden lest he puts you in danger. That said, he doesn't do a very good job. He gets agitated and fidgety if he can't hold you, longing gazes in your direction even if someone else is speaking to him about something important. Whether it's shooing specks of dust off your shoulder, a tap on the arm, or the brief brush of your fingers against his whenever he hands something to you. He always finds some way to touch you.

It's always the worst and best time to speak with Childe if you happen to be there. On the upside, Childe is more likely to give his approval to whatever his subordinates ask just so they go away and leave you both alone. On the downside, because physical touch somehow makes Childe drowsy and almost drunk, he's useless.

It wasn't always like this. During your first months as something more than friends, not quite lovers, he kept you at an arm's distance just like everyone else. Only the occasional arm over your shoulder or a hand on the small of your back, just enough to show you that you meant something to him. But over time, those touches began to linger until the dynamic shifted and he began to rely on your touches to keep him sated. On particularly stressful days, he'll pull you aside into his office with a rushed excuse to just hold you in his lap. He's recharging, don't make tease him.

But he's not a selfish lover. If you need comfort or just want to be held, he'll gladly throw his plans out the window just to spend time with you. What's wrong? Did someone upset you? Want me to take care of them? He'll offer anything to make you feel better while you're cuddled up to him and it makes his heart flutter when you say you just want to stay beside him. He has a bad habit of resting his entire weight on top of you if you're both ever lying down. All that muscle is heavy but sometimes it's comfortable until his elbow accidentally digs into your side.

Childe can be polite if someone else wants to touch him but he's baring his teeth at anyone that has the audacity to place their hands on you. If someone bumps into you? He's fine, accidents happen. Someone moves you to the side? Whatever he won't throw a fit over that. He believes in the below-the-shoulder, above-the-waist, hands not included, rule. If anyone touches you, it's the only time when Childe will throw his reputation out the window.

Scaramouche likes to compare him to a dog and he'll gladly growl and bark if that's what it takes for people to get the hint and leave you alone. He'll slide his arms around your waist, tilt your chin up, and without any concern about the scene that this will cause, kisses you deeply. All the while sending the nastiest glare to the person that touched you. Look, don't touch. You're his.

Childe likes to believe that he has self-restraint. He's a soldier first and foremost so he has discipline beaten into his bones. But right now he's close to snapping the pen in his hands and hurling it into that bastard's forehead. He can feel Ekaterina's concerned gaze on him, shifting on her feet nervously, as she struggles to push through her explanation of his assignment quickly. Unfortunately, it's all white noise to Childe as all of his attention is on the cicin mage whose being a bit too friendly for his liking.

"Lord Tartaglia?"

Of course, you don't blink twice at it. He's seen how that loud electro pirate dotes on you and is overly physically affectionate herself. Maybe he should also fight her as well after he's done dealing with this cicin mage.

"Childe?" Ekaterina tries one last time, using a more familiar name to see if that would catch her superior's attention but alas, he was too busy glaring daggers into her college. Ekaterina raises a hand to lightly tap on her superior's shoulder to get his attention but just as her fingertips brush against the fabric of his uniform, Childe's death glare is directed at her. She flinches away from the otherwise easy-going Childe, her mask doing little to hide her startled expression.

"Sorry, sorry, not meant for you," Childe blinks away the hate from his ocean eyes, coming to his senses as he runs a hand through his hair, "What were you saying?"

"There is no need to apologize, Lord Tartaglia, I overstepped," Ekaterina, bless her heart, waves off the sudden aggression but takes a step back. Before she can continue, she overhears you saying goodbye to the mage and your footsteps coming closer. A small surprised noise escapes your chest as Childe pulls you into his arms immediately. If she didn't know Childe, she could almost say his expression was a bit cute with how pouty he was being. Although the look in his eyes says otherwise now that she was just on the receiving end. This seems to be a common occurrence because you just giggle and hug him back just as tightly.

"Please don't harm her. She was just being nice," you mumble into his chest.

"I'll think about it," he says, his eyes never leaving the mage.

Pantalone

On the one hand, the banker always carries this prestige that makes most people stay away in awe. No one wants to get on the wrong side of the man who basically funds the country of Snezhnaya. On the other hand, Pantalone has an ethereal beauty that compels people to come closer and touch. To see if the porcelain skin is real, feel if he's muscular or lean under the heavy fabric, or sneak a peek at what colour the banker's eyes are. It makes you kind of giddy knowing that this man belongs to you. That you know the answer to all these speculations.

You aren't sure when it started happening but at some point, he always ends up sort of mindlessly touching him. Placing a hand on his arm or knee, running your fingers through his hair, or gently rubbing away the stress from his shoulders. There wasn't an ulterior motive, Pantalone was just too handsome that you can't help but touch him just to make sure he's real. He thought you were overexaggerating a bit but he seemed deeply pleased at your confession since it was coming from you personally. That egotistical bastard.

But he always reciprocated your touch. Offering an arm for you to hold onto, brushing the hair out of your face, or rubbing small circles into your hand. Small gestures of affection would occasionally lead to more. The fact that Pantalone of all people let you be this close was something you secretly prided in yourself. You couldn't help but rub his newfound privilege in front of anyone that got too close that this elegant man was yours to hold. Look all you want but you're the only one that gets to touch.

You weren't aware of Pantalone's level of aversion to touch until he almost caused a scene at a gathering. It was meant more for looks and reputation, the occasional business talk, but overall a lax evening. One of the ladies thought it would be a good gesture to place her hand against Pantalone's arm. A bit flirty but innocent enough that the sheer disdain that swirled in Pantalone's eyes made her flinch away surprised. He struck her hand away, the sound carrying through the now-silent ballroom as everyone turned to the sound. You were surprised as well that Pantalone of all people, the image of control and ever-smiling, lips turned down into a repulsed scowl. Your feet quickly moved over to him, quietly excusing the woman for her careless act, and ushering her away before anything escalated. No one spoke of that night.

Ever since then you've always kept your hands firmly glued to your sides lest you feel his anger. If you happened to brush against his finger you would splutter out apologies and scamper away. If you felt his hand hover near you, you always assumed you were in the way and quickly moved aside for him. Overall, you acted as if it was you that was uncomfortable with touch. With each passing day that you fled from his hand, the crease in Pantalone's frown grew deeper.

It comes to a head one night when you get to see how Pantalone's aversion to touch applies to you as well. Occasionally some wealthy noble will host a gala and as one of the Tsaritsa Harbingers, Pantalone will be required to be present for at least one of them. Given his status, most of the attendees flock over to him which leaves poor you to meander about and find something to do with the time. Despite being his lover, you're not privy to what goes on with his work and frankly, the business talk and parties bore you. At least these places have food.

He sees you conversing with a man he knows is from Liyue, hoping to find more investors and trade partners here in Snezhnaya. He's already spoken to the man and rejected his offer so that's most likely why he's speaking to you, the banker's partner to garner sympathy. Although from the looks of things, you don't seem that impressed either. You notice his stare, perhaps his expression betrays him because your eyes grow concerned before giving a polite bow and turning to walk away and to him. If that was all then perhaps tonight wouldn't have ended so badly.

The man grabs your arm painfully enough for you to whimper and that's all Pantalone needs. He doesn't even try to hide his expression behind a smile, his lips set into a straight line. He grabs the man's arm tightly, the leather of his gloves crinkling from the force, and he nearly breaks the man's arm. How dare this inferior social climber put his filthy hands on you. You have to plead with him to let the man go, desperately trying to pry his grip away as the businessman begs the Harbinger on his knees that he didn't know.

Pantalone-

Pantalone is pissed.

You've never seen him this angry before. The lady all those nights ago doesn't even compare close to the anger radiating off him. His fingers flex still as he leads you away into an isolated hallway. You're not even sure if he knows where he's going, completely blindsided by rage. So you quickly step closer and throw your arms around him, stopping him in his tracks as you bury your face into the soft fabric of his suit.

"It's okay. I'm okay," you whisper softly into his back. You're not afraid, he won't get angry, not with you. Never with you. But it still pains you to see him this way. You feel more than you hear his deep sigh before slowly turning around and taking you into his arms. "Thank you. I didn't mean to start anything, you just looked displeased and I got worried. Oh, I'm sorry-"

You quickly move to shuffle out of Pantalone's hold but you can barely get two steps back before his touch grows firm and you're trapped. Despite how strong his hold is, he gently tilts your chin up so you can look into his pretty eyes. He really does have a nice eye colour you think in the back of your mind.

"You've been avoiding me. Care to enlighten me as to why that's the case? Did someone feed your mind with little lies?" Pantalone sounds coy but you can hear the undertone of worry. As if he's done something wrong which you quickly shake your head to.

"W-Well, that incident with the lady from a few weeks ago, the one in the red and black dress, you looked really angry when she touched you so..." you trailed off as your eyes look at anywhere that isn't the man in front of you, nervously twisting the cuff of your sleeve. When you actually hear it back it does sound a bit ridiculous to believe that but you just didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Or make him act a certain way just because you liked physical touch or to uphold appearances.

"And you thought you were comparable to people like that? That I would allow special treatment just because you were mine? That I would reciprocate to anyone but you?"

You fumble a bit at how honest his words are, searching for some way to justify yourself but at the end of the day, you'll knock your head against the wall for how stupid your logic is. So you stand on your tip toes and reach hesitantly up towards his face. Pantalone's face reminds neutral but he slowly leans into his touch, his muscles finally relaxing just by your touch.

Scaramouche

How the hell he tolerates you is anyone's guess. How the hell you tolerate him is Celestia's guess. He has the worst attitude, is quick to anger, flaunts his authority wherever he goes, and is overall a terrible person to be around. Yet every time he looks over his shoulder, you're always one step away from kicking at his heels. Which you have accidentally done before and somehow survived so he must like you a smidge. You tell him it's because it's out of spite that you're still here and spite is a powerful feeling. He of all people should know.

Scaramouche despises anyone being within his personal space, which is already a pretty big range, so the idea of someone touching him is repulsive to him. If he somehow was in danger and someone touched him in order to save his life, he would probably throw a fit and shock them. Their only reward is that he doesn't kill them. It's not like he has to worry too much, no one really wants to be in his presence longer than they have to and any admirers are quickly turned off within the first couple of seconds. Which makes it all the more baffling that you still hang around him and test just how far you can poke his limits.

The first time you touched him was by accident. Someone had bumped into you causing you to fall into Scaramouche. Luckily for you, you managed to put your hands out first and brace yourself against the wall but you had successfully caged the Balladeer between your arms. If you weren't currently fearing for your life you might have laughed at the horrified expression on the Harbinger's face. The only reason you survived that day was that Tartaglia chose that exact moment to waltz in and frankly, he was a far bigger headache than you were.

He's not sure how you managed to worm your warm into his cold non-existent heart but at some point, he got used to your presence in his life. A few words to take care of himself, extra paperwork being filled, or shooing away other soldiers so he could have space. All of these acts of kindness were met with half-baked insults and suspicious looks. Every time he asked you why the hell you were acting like he was some helpless doll you always answered the same, you just felt like it and he looked like he kinda needed it. Which was so baffling to him that you managed to walk away with your head intact.

It started off with small things. Like you're both feral cats that are trying to co-exist in the same alleyway. You always announce your presence, give him enough time to leave, and your touch is barely there. You never do anything close to intimate, never hold his hand or hold his face, and he never reciprocates ever. Although it speaks volumes when he doesn't push you away ever. You're always nearby, sitting close, and you both exist contently.

But just like a feral cat, with enough time and love, even they will begin to grow comfortable and domesticated. The look on his subordinate's face was hilarious when little old you waltzed over to the sixth harbinger, plopped down into his personal space, and literally sprawled yourself over his lap to see what he was looking at. Just to one-up the absurdness, Scaramouche didn't seem bothered in the slightest, only calling you an idiot for not being able to read the document that was right in his hands.

Although there are some downsides to being so close to Scaramouche. He's possessive with the power the enforce his pride. You have to constantly scold him that he can't go frying anyone that comes within two feet of you. It's hardly efficient and it's annoying having to scream just to know what time it is.

The you from years ago would have balked at how casual you were speaking with the infamous Balladeer.

"All I'm saying is you sound like a possessive maniac," you huff, your arms crossing over your chest as you frown down at the sitting man. You doubt he's even paying attention to you because if he isn't throwing spite around then he's filtering you out of his mind. Scaramouche barely acknowledges your words, still fiddling around with the Electro Archon's gnosis. It gives off faint sparks of electro every time he rolls it over his fingers but he doesn't give any signs of pain. Maybe because he's an electro-user? Either way, he's obviously not listening to you. You let out a loud sigh before shrugging and turning on your heel to walk back into the camp. Suddenly, his hand shoots out and latches onto your wrist and he's yanking you down. The you from years ago would have fainted seeing you sprawled over your superior's lap. As your vision tilts to the sky you can't help but think that for such a small body, he sure has a lot of strength. He wears a bored expression, his other hand is cradling his head while his elbow is on his knee, before a nasty smirk makes its way over his face.

"Yeah? So what?" Scaramouch says, his hand stopping to firmly hold the gnosis, though now one of his hands is now settled on your hip. You blink. Huh, you...weren't exactly expecting the ever-prideful Balladeer to blatantly admit that.

"Well, the "what" is that it makes it incredibly inconvenient to talk to anyone. Everyone avoids me like the plague because their scared you're doing to kick down their door and attack them," you pout, grumpily adjusting your head to lay on his knee, "Also you need to eat more. You make a horrible headrest."

"That's fine. You won't need anyone else," he says dismissively.

You open your mouth to say something but the look in his eyes makes you falter. He's serious. A mixture of a past memory, the present moment of you both together, and a far-off dream all dance in his eyes. It's a look you've never seen before on Scaramouche's face despite how long you've worked under him and you can't help but be mesmerized by it. It's likely the first and last time you'll ever see him be honest. But it's quickly over as his eyes morph into snarky glee, his lips pulling into a mean grin.

"You look stupid."

Il Dottore

People are downright terrified to even be in the same room as the infamous doctor. There's never a safe moment and anyone could be the next test subject depending on his mood. It doesn't matter who it is, even his own segments, if someone touches him that means they've just volunteered to be his next experiment. It's suffocating when Dottore is out and not locked in his lab because everyone need's to be hyperaware of where the doctor is located in the room. So to say that Dottore tolerates you is a massive understatement.

He actually quite likes to parade you around, almost like you're his newest addition to his collection. Touch isn't a problem for him if he's the one initiating it given how often he's dragging you around like you're some pet. He's not gentle in the slightest, nearly pulling your arm out in his crazed rush to show you his newest creation. You would joke and say that in moments like these, he's the one that acts like the pet. Too excited to show its owner its newest achievements. But you have a sliver of sanity in your mind so you keep your mouth shut.

Every moment with Dottore is a warped sense of time. You've been with the Doctor for a long time, before he became a Harbinger, and you don't know how your relationship progressed to this stage. You're walking on a tightrope of old colleges that are too intertwined with history to be separated or co-dependent individuals that need death to finally leave each other. So when he touches you softly, affectionally, you stumble and fall off your rope. The mad doctor laughing from above, arms still outstretched from where he's pushed you.

Half of it is madness, and half of it is out of genuine love. Although, to Dottore, madness and love are the same things. His acts of affection are spontaneous and equally as fleeting. One second he's rattling off medical terms and theories, pauses in his rant just to give you a deep kiss no matter who's around you to witness the act, and proceeds as if nothing happens. That's not to say you don't enjoy it when he decides to reward you, you just wished it wasn't in front of so many people. You suspect he does it on purpose.

There's no softness or quiet time aside from the very very few and far between moments Dottore decides to indulge you. He's a busy man, his mind only built for progress, and he has better things to do than to play pretend. But for you, the one who forcibly carved space into his heart, he can make arrangements. Only for a short while. Some days he may hold you as if you'll shatter if he squeezes any harder, other days he'll push your hair away from your eyes quietly, and one day he kisses you as if you're something more.

Unlike Dottore, you don't have an intimidating reputation. People can touch you if they want to. It makes you a bit happy when Childe will pat you on the back or ruffle your hair cheekily. He's also one of the few who can get away with it as well since Dottore can't physically harm him for touching you since he's a fellow Harbinger. Besides, people speak with their eyes more. Since that doesn't qualify as anyone touching you, Dottore won't do anything. So they stare.

They stare at how the Harbinger holds you in a special place. You aren't remarkable, you're the same as the rest of them. Yet you're untouchable and invincible from the man who can change their entire lives. Mistakes occur frequently when Dottore is in the room, the slip of a finger because everyone is too focused on staying out of the Doctor's way. You get to stand beside someone like that.

It's been a hard day. A very hard day. You're absolutely exhausted and ready to curl up into a ball as soon as you get to your room. You aren't even sure what exactly happened. One second you were doing your job and the next your head was on the ground with a pulsing pain on your right cheek. It's not unusual for patients to lash out but under those circumstances, they don't have anything to do with you intimately. You know what people think about your relationship with Dottore. What people who only glimpse into the relationship you have with him think. Usually, they stay silent, only judging you with their eyes but always silent. That is until nearly 10 minutes ago.

"You're late."

You barely react when you hear his voice. Of course, it's him. God, what bad timing. He's the last person you want to see right now, especially in this state. You only give him a nod and mumbled out apologies, stumbling over your feet like a newborn lamb when his hand latches onto your wrist to drag you off again. You think you might have his fingerprints as bruises now. Another thing people can mistakenly think about your relationship. You only know you're crying when you hear the splatter of your tears against the tiled floors and Dottore's footsteps come to a halt. His grip on you has gotten tighter.

You're startled out of your wallowing when warm hands cup your face, brushing your tears away. His gloves are off. When did he take them off? Dottore simply looks at you as you silently cry. You're too tired to apologize, too tired to break down in sobs. Your arms hang uselessly at your sides but you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

"Give me their name."

He whispers it softly. You think back at the girl that struck you. You think she's new, she has to be. You know that if you say her name, you won't see her tomorrow. But you're too tired right now. So with no hesitation, you volunteer her to become the next test subject.

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sanatomis · 22 days

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⋆.ೃ࿔* ── 𝐃𝐈𝐘-𝐃𝐀𝐃!

it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.

content. canon divergence (suguru’s alive and studying to be a kindergarten teacher), possible ooc characters, female!reader.

notes. guys i’m a sucker for satoru who really, really tries and isn’t just a goofy man-child ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ also ! thank you all for your patience, it took me a while to finish this piece bc of uni, so i'm vv happy it's finally done <3

taglist. | masterlist.

“I don’t have a dad.”

As cruel as it may be, a part of Megumi hopes that the sentence makes his teacher greatly uncomfortable. Demanding for a father to attend a Career Day at school simply isn’t fair to children without one—or, well, to the child without one. It’s not his fault his father hauled ass and left, so why is she making this so difficult for him?

“Oh,” she mumbles. It seems his arrow hit the target, as her eyebrows pull together in a frown and she shifts her weight between her feet. “Well, you, uh, have a male guardian, don’t you?”

Megumi grimaces. Instantly, he thinks back to last week. Satoru Gojo, self-proclaimed strongest, had hit his head on a kitchen cabinet. With a dramatic pout and an overexaggerated wobble to his lips, he clung to you for hours. Some affection will make it all better!

Of course, when Megumi criticised his skills surrounding his infinity technique—because, really, how couldn’t it block a simple cabinet—the sorcerer opted to ignore him. He suspects there was some foul play at hand.

“Barely,” he mutters, as the memory resurfaces.

His teacher lets out a startled hum. “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing,” Megumi says quickly. He watches as she starts typing on her computer, and the realisation that she’s probably currently taking a look at his file isn’t a particularly welcome one. “What about my other guardian? Can I bring her, instead?”

“This event is geared towards fathers,” she explains. It’s obvious she forgot her reading glasses today, Megumi thinks, as she needs to narrow her eyes to read the screen in front of her. “I have one Satoru Gojo noted down as your male guardian. Surely, he will be able to attend.”

Megumi pauses. He blinks up at her expressionlessly, and fights off the urge to push his teacher down a well. You often preach about being kind to others, and that wouldn’t be very kind.

“Can’t I take my oth—”

“I’m afraid not,” she interrupts him before he even gets the sentence out. It irks him. Megumi isn’t fond of speaking to begin with, so when he does, he’d prefer not to be cut off halfway through. “An exception will not be made. Please, make sure to bring Gojo-san to school.��

Megumi briefly, and for the very first time ever, mourns the fact that you and Satoru weren’t married. A small part of him calls the man a coward for not asking you to. If he’d simply taken the step, then Megumi would be able to pass you off as Gojo-san. Unfortunately, he can’t, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s no way around this problem.

“Fine,” he grumbles. It takes all of his remaining willpower to not stomp out of the classroom. Once again, he thinks of you. It’d be extremely bad manners. He can’t find it in himself to wish his teacher a nice day this time, though, and so she’ll have to make due with a slightly less polite Megumi for today.

There’s nothing he can do about it. Satoru will have to come to the school.

Megumi suddenly despises the idea of Career Day.

“I need you to come to my school next week.”

Immediately, all chatter around the dining table stops. For once, Megumi finds himself annoyed at the sudden appearance of silence. Before he said it, he knew his words would most likely have such an effect—he just didn’t expect it to be so instant.

He tries his best to feign nonchalance, as if the topic that’s coming up didn’t make him feel stressed-out beyond belief. The confused, startled glances you and Satoru share don’t do much to help him, either. Perhaps it’s because Megumi is looking straight at him; him instead of you. Yeah, Satoru, he isn’t a fan of it, either.

“Me?” The man asks then, and Megumi has to resist the urge to say, ‘no, I meant the snail in the backyard—yes, you,’ in the most sarcastic voice he can muster up. Satoru once again steals a look at you, ever so oblivious to Megumi's mental remarks. “Don’t you mean—”

“I don’t,” Megumi cuts him off solemnly. His lips are pursed shut, and he pokes the slices of pork belly in his bowl with his chopsticks. One didn’t need to be of particularly high intelligence to notice the boy’s displeasure. “I have to bring a male figure for Career Day.”

It’s slow, the morphing of Satoru’s face, but it happens gradually and doesn’t stop until he’s positively beaming. Megumi doesn’t like it one bit. Nothing good happens when he looks like that, and he’s quite sure that all that will spew out of his mouth in a few seconds will be nothing except for pure nonsense.

“Well, luckily, I will have the day off, then!” Satoru chimes, with a smile so wide it causes two dimples to appear on his cheeks. You copy his smile, and gently go to poke the little dent in his skin—Satoru lets you, as he always does. Megumi would think of it as cute if he weren’t so annoyed. “I will be there.”

It seems he was right. Satoru’s words are pure nonsense.

“I didn’t tell you when,” he comments dryly.

The sorcerer blinks. His smile is still on his face, but it’s fading, and the dimples do so with it. Your hand hovers halfway in the air, stuck with nothing to poke, and you slowly bring it back down to your side. It seems neither of you had taken time to think about that small fact—Megumi blames Satoru for dragging you down with him; him and those indentations in his cheek that you always seem to coo over.

“Oh,” Satoru mumbles. A crease between his brows forms as his brain hurries to catch up with the newfound information. A few seconds pass, and then the previous bravado returns. “Well, it doesn’t matter! I can take the day off. When do you need me? Tell me, and I’ll be there.”

Megumi very much doubts he can take days off all willy-nilly like that, especially after he pushed his workload onto someone else to attend his science fair last time, but then again, what does he know? If Satoru didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, then Megumi wasn’t about to break his own head doing so, either.

“Next Friday,” he mumbles. From the tone of his voice, it’s quite clear that he’d rather be saying anything else. “We have to leave at eight a.m., please, be on time.”

“Sure thing!” Satoru chimes, and with that, Megumi thinks the dreaded conversation has finally come to an end.

All in all—it could’ve gone worse. At least Satoru didn’t prolong it unnecessarily. Nor did he add a bunch of relentless teasing. He glances at the sorcerer. Satoru is happily munching on the dinner you’d prepared, both his cheeks stuffed full with entirely too much rice. It’s unbecoming, and a reflection of his poor manners, Megumi thinks, and he doesn’t understand how you look at the man with such hearts in your eyes.

Though, your more than adequate cooking seems to have saved him from one of Satoru’s onslaughts. He’s grateful. Even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight in front of him.

“Hey, ‘toru?” You ask, breaking the silence with a slight hesitation to your voice. It nearly sounds nervous, and both Megumi and Tsumiki look up in alarm. Satoru hums, still chewing away. “What are you going to tell the class?”

Satoru stops eating. His chewing comes to a halt, and his chopsticks freeze in the air. A slice of pork drops from between them, and falls back into his bowl—It’s not hard to see the cogs turning in his head. “Uhm, I. . .” He swallows the food still in his mouth, and clears his throat.

Right. It’s Career Day—but Satoru can’t tell a bunch of seven to eight-year-olds that he hunts and kills grimy, ugly, and freakishly scary curses for a living, now, can he? Megumi doesn’t think that would go over well with the other parents. The boy sighs. It’s just one thing after another. He grimly believes the world might just be out to get him.

“I. . .Oh! I can tell them I’m a teacher,” his guardian scrambles for a solution, and Megumi can’t help but think it’s a little lack-lustre. Who would believe that guy is a teacher, anyway? Then again. . .Megumi doesn’t know a better fix for their current problem, either. He was so focused on the fact that it was Satoru that had to come to the school, he all but forgot about the fact that the dear thorn-in-his-side didn’t possess a normal job. “Suguru has told me a thing or two about his internship. I can take inspiration from there.”

Ah, yes. The famed Suguru Geto. Megumi has met him before. He hasn’t actually spoken to him, however. The man often visits, and has twin girls clinging to him when he does, and while Tsumiki seems to really like him—and them—Megumi doesn’t have an interest in seeking out some form of interaction, yet. Whenever he comes over, Megumi opts to hide in his room. Suguru never tries to disturb him, nor does he try to coax him into coming out. He’s very grateful for it.

So, despite never speaking to him, Megumi knows about Suguru. Well, he knows enough. He knows Suguru went to school with the two of you, and he knows something really, very bad (nearly) happened that caused the man to take a step back from the world you all live in. What exactly happened (or what didn’t happen), Megumi doesn’t know for sure. You and Satoru almost never speak about it, and when you do, it’s in hushed voices—and you always stop immediately when he enters the room.

But that’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. Suguru doesn’t force himself upon Megumi, and so he will extend him the same courtesy. “I thought Geto-san wasn’t a teacher, yet?” Tsumiki speaks up from beside him, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Mimi and Nana said he’s still learning. How can he be teaching, already?”

“He’s not a teacher, yet, munchkin, well spotted,” Satoru answers with a proud grin. The nickname annoys Megumi—the feeling of irritation has been conditioned into his very being after Satoru chose it as the designated nickname for both of them. “An internship helps him build experience in the field. It means he is still learning, but he will do so while teaching.”

Tsumiki nods in understanding, her mouth opens and her lips curl into a small ‘ah’ as the information settles in. “So, you will pretend to be a teacher, then? At Megumi’s school?”

Satoru bites on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Seemingly—as Megumi is quite convinced he doesn’t ever think before he speaks. “I think so, yes,” he explains, and unknowingly retorates Megumi’s train of thoughts. How annoying. Satoru looks towards you for approval; it’s something he does very often. “It’s probably the safest route, no?”

“It’s our best option,” you say, and bring a thumb up to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. Gently, you wipe away a grain of rice stuck to his skin. It’s effortless, and nearly automated. Megumi wonders how many times you’ve had to do that. “Pretending to be a teacher shouldn’t be too difficult a task. Right, mochi?”

“Right,” Satoru echoes. His eyes track your every move, and the slight, pink colouring of his cheeks doesn’t seem to embarrass him even a little bit. Megumi thinks it should. Have some decorum. “I can do it, no problem.”

“Alright then,” you say, and smile. First at Satoru, and then at Megumi. You look at the boy for a few seconds; you’re about to ask him if he’s okay with it. He knows you are, because you always do. “Is that okay for you, Megumi?” It’s like clockwork, almost.

Megumi feels the need to answer with something snarky. Something akin to the sound of ‘What choice do I have?’ but he doesn’t—because you’re being kind, and you don’t deserve such a response. So, instead he turns towards Satoru.

“. . .Just don’t mess it up.”

Satoru delivers a whole spiel about how ‘he’d never do that’ and that he’s ‘more than capable’ of telling a little white lie, but Megumi dilutes it to background noise rather quickly. He continues sputtering his nonsense when Megumi and Tsumiki stand up to clear the table, and still hasn’t stopped even when you and him start loading the dishwasher together—Megumi chooses to seek reprieve in his room while he’s distracted.

It isn’t until many hours later, when Megumi leaves the sanctuary of his room to swipe a quick snack from the kitchen, that he first hears Satoru speak about something other than his great, and very much sufficient, ‘capabilities’. Your voices are muffled, and Megumi has to focus to make out your words. His soft, inaudible padding down the illuminated hallways comes to a halt. As if that would make his ears function better.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Satoru?”

The boy frowns. With such gentleness in your voice, it’s hard to identify the worry lingering beneath the surface. Megumi moves a bit closer. He stops one step shy of bumping into the wooden surface, and peeks through the groove. The door is ajar—it’s something that allows him to watch how your eyes follow Satoru’s large frame as he paces around the room. It’s strange. Seeing him so. . .frazzled.

Satoru nods. “I can do this, I know I can,” he says, and quits his pacing to look at you. Megumi can’t see his face, but he can see yours. He might as well not have, though, as he can’t make out the emotion that fills your eyes. It’s not one he himself has in his repertoire, that he knows for sure. “He never asks me for anything, princess. I have to do this right.”

Ah, this isn’t a conversation Megumi is meant to hear. He should probably seize his eavesdropping, he thinks, and winces a little when he properly analyses Satoru’s words. They’re truthful. Megumi doesn’t go to him when he needs something. His first thought is to go to you—and his second, Tsumiki. And if he’s being honest anyway, his third thought very likely isn’t Satoru, either; He’d try to solve it on his own if it came down to it. Megumi frowns again. He doesn’t like how that realisation makes him feel.

A careful shuffle of footsteps breaks him free from his thoughts. Megumi looks up, and catches how you place a hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ll do great, baby,” you mumble. There’s a small, soft smile on your lips, one that quickly makes way for the peck Satoru places upon them.

“Thank you,” Satoru whispers. One of his hands reaches for yours, and Megumi suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something when the man brings them up to his lips to press a tender kiss to them. Okay, no, definitely intruding—ew.

The boy scrunches his nose up in disgust, and hurriedly darts back towards his room. Suddenly, he has lost his appetite for a late-evening snack. Megumi lets out a deep sigh once he’s all tucked into his sheets again. Perhaps giving Satoru a shot wouldn’t be that big of a problem. Just one, though.

. . .Yeah, just one should be enough.

It’s the final, conclusive thought Megumi has before dozing off to sleep. Blissfully unaware of the conversation you and Satoru share—now behind a very closed door.

You stifle a giggle. The disappearance of Megumi’s presence outside your bedroom was quick and rampant as soon as Satoru started to kiss your hands. Something the sorcerer did very deliberately. It’s as if the boy suddenly forgot about the very special, very effective pair of eyes his guardian possesses. And with a cursed energy output such as Megumi’s, it would be hard not to recognise his presence.

“You did that on purpose,” you comment. “How cruel of you, mochi.”

Satoru hums, and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Maybe, the little brat shouldn’t eavesdrop, then,” he defends himself. There isn’t an inkling of guilt to be seen on his pretty face.

. . .Though, both of you still take some extra care to shut the door next time.

Megumi faithfully believes that, as of today, he has used-up all of his luck for the next five, no, ten years. It can only go downhill from here. For some inexplicable, mind-boggling reason—Satoru is actually pulling this off. That’s not all; he’s not merely winging it, he’s genuinely doing well. The boy can’t quite believe his eyes.

When he’d walked to the front with such an overexaggerated pep in his step, and an overabundance of bravado rolling off of him in waves—Megumi couldn’t help but watch on with a grim look, and a healthy dose of negative thoughts. It only amplified the nerves he’d collected so far during the walk to school. Somehow, watching Satoru give your flashcards a frantic do-over did very little to ease his bubbling anxiety.

There were many of them, flashcards that is. All possible questions his peers or his teacher could ever think of are written on those little pieces of cardboard. Courtesy of you, and your boyfriend. Megumi’s able to recall all those nights the two of you spend at the kitchen table—practising. He thought it was silly at the time.

But, as it turns out, it works.

Satoru is fun. To other people; Megumi doesn’t share the sentiment. Against all odds, he’s dynamic, and speaks with conviction. His flamboyant hand gestures have others think of them as amusing—captivating, even. Satoru is talking, and they’re all hanging onto his every word. No matter the fact that they’re all cleverly disguised lies.

Megumi can’t wrap his head around it. He doesn’t need to, however. If anything, he’s relieved that his peers think of his guardian as cool. While he certainly does not share the opinion, he isn’t too dense to admit that such a belief will save him a lot of embarrassment in the future. So, for this one, single day, he will let Satoru Gojo be cool. His snarky comments can resume tomorrow.

“Ah, it seems you have a deep love for your profession, Gojo-san,” his teacher says. She interrupts Satoru’s rant, and catches his attention as well as Megumi’s. Her voice is light and airy, and carries nothing that should cause him to fear the worst. Still, the boy feels on edge. “Though, I don’t remember the grade you are teaching. Could you tell us, again?”

Ah, and there it goes. The very first card in the elaborately built castle of lies.

Satoru pauses. A second passes, and then two, and three, and so on. He doesn’t speak for a good thirty, and Megumi can nearly see his mind leaf through his beloved flashcards—flashcards that are now neatly tucked into his pockets and entirely out of reach. That’s good. Because the absolute last thing Satoru should do now, is resort back to the flashcards.

Megumi shakes his head no as a signal.

“Ah,” Satoru says. “I teach kindergarten.”

Satoru didn’t catch the hint. Megumi wishes the ground would swallow him up. It would have been the correct answer—it is the answer that’s written on the flashcards—if Satoru hadn’t decided to go off route. Getting too caught up in the story he’d been free-writing, and allowing himself to get carried away by the looks of awe is resulting in his downfall, which, consecutively, will end with Megumi’s downfall, as well.

“Huh? But! What about the science experiment that exploded?” One of the children in his class whines. “I didn’t get to do that in kindergarten!”

“And the backflip you taught your students!”

“What about the first prize in the talent show? I thought your students were famous!”

The little bit of colour that normally resides in Satoru’s face steadily disappears, and he clenches his fist at his side. Ah, it’s great to know he’s at least aware of his mistake. That won’t help either of them at the moment, though. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, and a feeling of distress overtakes him. It shows on his face. He doesn’t exactly go through the trouble of trying to hide it—there are bigger problems right now.

How utterly humiliating to be caught lying.

Satoru’s eyes find him. They’re just as troubled as his own. It worsens his anxiety.

“Oh, uhm, you see. . .” Satoru stammers, and Megumi’s stomach churns when the children around them continue to ask more and more questions. The wince his guardian lets out does little to soothe him. Megumi sighs, and looks at the ground. “Ah, I see. It seems you guys saw right through me.”

Megumi slides down in his seat. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, the ground would absorb him. It’s currently looking like a preferable fate.

“. . .I’m actually a detective.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

“And. . .And for a detective, it’s very important to listen to what people say, because they could be lying!”

It’s a sad, pathetic excuse for a save. Megumi briefly ponders the distance between his seat and the door. Perhaps he could make a run for it. The subway station is very close by—getting on and travelling to an entirely new city to start a new life doesn’t seem like such a bad option. He sighs. No, that’s not possible. You and Tsumiki would be very worried. What else is there to do, though?

“You all picked up on my lie, which tells me every single one of you could make a great detective in the future.”

Megumi thinks Satoru might have some underlying mental problems. Though, they can’t possibly be as severe as the problems his classmates have—for they all believe the nonsense he’s giving them. Bright eyes, filled with hope and admiration, stare up at the man at the front of the class; impressed hums and entertained smiles get passed between the parents standing at the edge of the room. And Satoru, well, he seems entirely too proud of the fact that he made a bunch of children think they’re destined for a career in law enforcement. But, be that as it may, it works.

The children stir up unrest—the good kind this time, the kind that vocalises their excitement—and all rush to ask the detective a question. But, before they can even open their mouths, Satoru claps his hands together. It seems he has decided enough is enough, and it’s one of those very rare moments where Megumi agrees with him. The boy needs this to be over already.

“Alright, that’s it for today,” Satoru says, and feigns disappointment. He pretends to be affected by the sad groans of the children—keyword being pretend, as to the trained eye it’s quite clear that he wishes to leave. “I’m not allowed to tell you more.”

Ah, see, now that’s a good card.

“Wait, but, what about. . .”

“Ah, sorry, that’s confidential. Detective stuff, y’know?”

Confidential. Megumi thinks that might just be his new favourite word. The lingering feeling of anxiety slowly starts to subside with every step Satoru takes towards the back of the room—to the back, and away from the spotlight. His eyes follow the man’s large frame, but Satoru never chooses to look at him in return. His line of sight is firmly focused on the floor. It confuses Megumi, but he chalks it up to a mere whim.

All things considered (and minus the near cardiac arrest he went through), today went pretty well, after all. Much to his surprise.

Perhaps Megumi doesn’t hate Career Day. A strong dislike is more like it.

Megumi can’t count the times he wished for Satoru to be quiet. The exact number is much like the digits of Pi—huge, and absolutely never-ending. He can, however, count the times he didn’t wish for him to be quiet. As of today, that stands at a very solid one.

The birds around them chirp, and the bustle of other people is heard all around them—but they’re the only sounds gracing his ears. There is none of Satoru’s incessant chatter, nor is there even a glimmer of gloating about a job well-done. It’s eerily silent, and Megumi isn’t sure what to make of it. This isn’t quite how he imagined the walk home to go. Far from it, if he’s being honest.

“What’s up with you?”

It’s possibly the first time Megumi decides to break the silence, ever. The boy frowns, and fiddles with the straps of his backpack. There isn’t a middle-ground with Satoru, he has found out. Either he speaks entirely too much, or unnervingly little. There’s a tiny pebble in his path, and Megumi feels the need to kick it forward—so he does.

“I kind of messed up there, huh?”

The kick doesn’t have nearly enough force to it. Megumi watches as the little rock skips forward. Once, twice, and then it comes to a standstill again. “Yeah, kind of,” he agrees.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru rushes out. It’s said so fast, as if it physically pains him to say it. Perhaps it does. It’s sincere, however. There isn’t even a hint of a joke to be found. Something must be bothering him. “It didn’t go how I wanted it to go, and I don’t know why I went astray, and forgot about the cards. It—well, it was pretty stupid.”

Megumi doesn’t exactly feel the need to deny it.

“So, I get it, okay?” He continues, seeing the boy’s silence as an empty space for more conversation—more rambling. Since that’s what it is; rambles, plain and simple. Megumi doesn’t see the need for such a fuss. “I shouldn’t have strayed from the plan, and. . .”

“It’s fine.”

Satoru blinks at him. “What?”

“I said it’s fine,” Megumi repeats. Because it really is fine. Admittedly, it wasn’t smart of Satoru to all but discard your carefully planned presentation, but it ended well enough regardless. No harm, no foul. “Thank you for coming.”

That small, short sentence is enough to stop Satoru in his tracks. Megumi doesn’t, however. The man is very tall, he’s sure to catch up in a jiffy; he doesn’t need him to wait. There’s another small silence, though this one feels a lot more comfortable than the last. Satoru takes his time to process, and Megumi lets him.

“W—What?” The sorcerer stammers in shock. There is no need for Megumi to turn around and see—he can hear the smile curling onto his lips. “Did you just. . .”

“I won’t say it again,” Megumi grumbles definitively, and picks up his pace. The very tips of his ears heat up, and the apples of his cheeks turn red. The feeling of embarrassment. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned it to appear when the day started.

Satoru attempts to run after him, to catch up. “Megumi!” He calls out, the very prominent, very familiar whiney lilt now back in his voice. Megumi didn’t miss it. “Wait for me, I didn’t hear you! Could you repeat that?”

“Yes, you did!” Megumi says, and throws him an annoyed glance from over his shoulder. He tightens his hold on the straps of his backpack. “Stop lying.”

“Nuh uh!”

“What are you? Six?”

Satoru’s toothy grin is infuriating. But—it’s familiar. And Megumi discovers he’s much more at ease when that grin is on display, than when the man in question is moping around. It’s a lot less alarming.

“And a half,” Satoru adds.

The scowl that’s on Megumi’s face appears almost instantly when he goes to ruffle his hair. For a man whose technique largely surrounds being untouchable, he has a surprising lack of awareness concerning this thing called personal space.

“Ugh,” Megumi groans, and pushes him off. It doesn’t work. Satoru gravitates towards him again—almost as if he’s a magnet. He doesn’t attempt to move a second time. In moments like these, it’s best to let Satoru get it all out of his system. “You’re so stupid.”

It’s true. He does think Satoru is stupid, but he can’t deny it—Satoru tried his very best today, and in the days prior. Which makes him one of the very small, barely existent group of people who have done so for him.

It seems one shot was enough, after all.

taglist: @luv-gin @sad-darksoul @parttimep3t @nanuer @bubbletae7 @chilichopsticks @gabirii @nyxlai @rattywatty @chaoticevilbakugo @ploylulla @sugasbrownsuga @littleagxs @m3ow1 @booksarekindaneat @frankenstein852 @bananasquash @jasm-1ne @chicken-fifi @yanelis-world @satory @satoryaa @sasfransisco @faetoraa @softiehee

#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: fushiguro megumi #ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x platonic!reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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vampiresbloodx · 25 days

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Older!librarian!Wanda finally takes you out on a date after being too nervous and having that doubt that you don't actually even like her the way she thought you did, you two talk all the time whenever Wanda has a break on her shift, it's her favourite part of the day, just seeing you, smiling and laughing.

She was right about you being in college. It seems you're in your last year and still have no clue on what to do with your future. Wanda can see how much stress you're in with the finals coming up, it pains her to see you like this. She'd give you the whole universe if she could.

She doesn't know why she's so interested in you, these feelings are definitely not like anything she's already experienced. She was slightly confused herself, what she actually feels towards you, but what she does know is that it's love.

Wanda wants to hold you close to her, kiss you, make you happy, make you laugh, cry, and smile. She wants to see all of it. All of you. Every inch of you.

Maybe she's been reading too many romance books and sapphic fiction.

She just wants to wake up next to you, go to sleep with you every night.

And of course, there are other sinful things she wants to do that she finds herself thinking of when she's at work, in the shower, at home, it doesn't matter where, god, the sound of your voice, the way you look at her, ignites a flame inside her that she didn't know was even there.

Wanda grew up in a pretty Christian neighbourhood. It sucked. She was so used to tradition, how everything should be, not how she feels it should be.

Then you changed her mind on it all.

With one smile.

Wanda hasn't been on a date since.... Forever. Hell she doesn't even know who it was with. It probably was pretty bad then. She has been getting used to her phone so she can text you more and call you, just to hear you speak, when she asks you out, she was expecting a humiliating rejection, but when you smiled up at her, adorably so, you accepted.

"pick me up at 8?"

You said to her.

She nodded.

"see you then."

She watches you walk away, releasing a breath she didn't even know she was holding in.

Her hands were shaking, her heart hammering in her chest.

She felt like she was in highschool again.

Wanda had rushed home after her shift ended and she closed up the library for the night, she was panicking, unsure of what to wear and if she should bring wine or flowers, Wanda decided on both, and chocolate, but what if you were allergic? Dark chocolate. Or just roses.

She wore her best dress that made her feel young again, did her make up, and she felt good.

It was time to pick you up, she drove to your address that you had given her, it was a nice little apartment building she parked outside of and went to the door, pressing on the number of the button you told her to do.

"hello?"

There came your voice.

"hi, it's Wanda."

"oh hey! I'll be right down."

When she saw you, her mouth gaped open, her eyes widened, she felt so lucky, you looked gorgeous, you shy away from her gaze as she eyes you up and down, she steps closer, grabbing your hands as she kisses your knuckles.

A shiver went down your spine when you felt her lips, wanting to kiss her immediately.

"you look stunning."

Your cheeks burned.

"uh... Um, you look really beautiful too. Like really beautiful."

It was her turn to blush.

You chuckled, leaning in as you pressed a kiss to her cheek, her face practically turning red.

God you don't know what you're doing to her.

She took you out to a fancy restaurant, she saw your reaction and how surprised you looked, she chuckled, enjoying the way your eyes wondered all over the place.

"ms. Maximoff?" A guy at the counter greeted her, she nodded, smiling at him.

"your table is ready" he guided the two of you to a nice private era, with a candle lit.

Once he left you spoke up.

"damn, I was not expecting this. No one has ever taken me out to a restaurant!" You gushed.

She grinned, "how come? Anyone would feel lucky enough to show you off."

You bit down on your lip.

"keep flirting with me like that we won't even last till dinner."

She laughed, shaking her head.

The dinner went perfectly, and for a surprise, she took you back to the library, where you two first met, in that same spot.

"are we allowed to be here?" You asked in a whisper.

"hon, I practically run it."

"I know but what if we get caught!" You said, standing close to her.

"we won't" she says, unlocking the door.

You both entered as she locked the door from behind so no one else could get in, you two laughing as she brought you to the same spot she first saw you, you got quiet as you remembered it exactly, she smiled, caressing your cheek with her hand as she pressing her body against yours, your back hitting the book shelves.

"you look so pretty" she cooed, "god, I want to ruin you."

You whimpered, her eyes darkening at the sound as she leans in, kissing you on the lips, your hands coming up to wrap around her neck.

#wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #older!wanda #more librarian!wanda hehe #stuff i wrote

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shotmrmiller · 5 months

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PAUSE! OH MY GOD. writing a soap smut got me thinking.

As a medic in base, you see the 141 guys all the time. Whether in passing or because they get injured, you’re always interacting with them. Your particular lack of response at Ghost’s irritated glare after reprimanding him for being unable to keep his stitches intact during training is what solidified your friendship with Johnny— what Soap tells you to call him.

Every time Johnny goes out, he likes to drag you along and this is where you notice peculiar interactions between him and Ghost.

The way Ghost gives Soap Johnny his full attention when he’s speaking, turning his entire body to face him, even if it’s something completely trivial. Or how Johnny stresses over Ghost who’s injured on your med table and Ghost will comfort him. When going on a mission, if one goes, so does the other.

You wonder if there's something else going on.

—

You get your answer.

One day you’re knocking on Johnny’s door because it wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried to weasel out of a physical. You’d think getting shot would hurt more than a vaccine but here you are— about to twist his scottish ear off. The door finally opens, and you barge in because you aren’t about to cause a scene in the middle of the hallway when you freeze.

Ghost is in Johnny's room, lying on the bed. If looks could kill, Ghost’s would’ve leveled the base. And he’s naked under the sheets— if that tree trunk-sized bulge is what you think it is. It doesn't even look hard. Bloody hell.

You shift your gaze towards Soap, and your eyes drop— he's clad in nothing but a towel that hangs dangerously low on his hips.

Massive. These men just walkin’ round with weapons in their pants.

Shaking off those thoughts, you shift your attention to his face.

“Meet me at the clinic in 10 or so help me god, Johnny.” and walk out the door.

You hear a muffled "Yes ma'am" , and a hiss escapes your lips.

That cocky smile Johnny had means he definitely saw you ogling them.

—

A week passes and it’s a friday. You can’t wait to lock yourself in your barracks room and watch movies the entire weekend— you plan to start as soon as you're off the clock.

And then other medics twist your arm into going out for drinks.

Now you find yourself seated at a table in a lively bar, indulging in shots of tequila. As you glance around, your eyes catch sight of Soap and Ghost standing near the bartender. It appeared that some woman is talking to Johnny and he has a polite, detached smile on his face. Always too kind to strangers.

Then she starts caressing his thigh.

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. Right in front of Ghost’s salad? You lock eyes with Ghost and he looks murderous. Jesus.

You usually don't stick your nose in others' business, but if you don’t intervene, Ghost might actually kill her in her sleep. Besides, tequila has always made you bold.

With a confident stride, you make your way towards Johnny and remove that woman’s hand before settling yourself snugly on his lap— and you wrap his arms around your waist.

“And who is this?” you ask Soap, but the girl questions back.

“No. Who are you?”

Bitch.

Curling your upper lip, you answer, “I’m the one he comes in every night hoping it takes. Now leave before I make you,” completely ignoring the massive bulge pressing up into your arse.

She looks at you with a bewildered expression, but doesn't move so you finish off with, "Try it. Just a warning though, it'll be hard to fight when the fight ain't fair."

You cock your head to the side with a taunting expression and the woman scoffs before walking away. Noticing she left her almost full drink behind, you give it to the bartender to toss in the trash. She's just gonna have to get another one.

Your act comes to an end, so you shift to stand up— and realize that the arms encircling your waist tighten, keeping you on his lap. His clothed cock.

“Ye didnae think we’d let ye go after yer little show, did ye?”

Unless Johnny’s speaking french, he just said we. You'd be nervous but you aren't about to decline what could be the best sex of your life. The want you feel in Soap's pants has you riding a certain high— it makes you feel confident.

Grabbing onto the edge of the bartop, you swivel the stool you're on to face Ghost.

“And this okay with you? I wouldn’t be stepping on any toes, or nothin’?”

Ghost swiftly lifts you from Johnny's lap and places you onto his own.

“Does this answer your question?” and draws you closer before grinding his erection against you.

And it sure as hell does. Slapping the counter, you ask for some water. If this night is going to end with you sandwiched between these two, you want to remember all of it.

reader's a boss ass bitch. GET IT CHILE.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon riley #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #ghoap #ghoap x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #ghost simon riley

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doobean · 7 months

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FAMILY AFFAIRS - ISAGI YOICHI

synopsis: You've got everything in life. A happy marriage with the love of your life, a new job, and you have enough savings to buy a new house! Luckily enough, your kind stepbrother offers to come with you to the open house tour while your husband is busy and away. Nothing can go possibly wrong, right?

contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, stepbro!isagi, reader is married to sae, reader also wears a dress hehe, cheating, manipulation, dub-con, step cest, isagi is jealous and is a bully, kinda borderline yandere!isagi, hickeys, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, pet names/name-calling, dumbification, doggy/missionary/mating press, ass slapping, dacryphilia, light choking, having sex while on a phone call (oral), mirror sex, mdni word count: 3.9K a/n: part 1 of my kinktober event! idk probably the filthiest thing I've ever written in my life idk what to make of it but enjoy (im sorry sae whoops) and i swear im a good girl

Compared to how most remarriages go, you have to say that your family is part of the lucky ones.

It happened back in high school, where all the weird emotions and hormones of a teenager are at its high but, surprisingly, your stepbrother and stepfather were extremely easy-going people. And they still are. Your stepfather treats your mom with utmost care and grace, something you haven't seen in a while since your biological father stepped out of your life.

Your stepbrother, now a pro football player, is almost a carbon copy. Growing up, Isagi has always been willing to help out around the house, staying up to help you study for exams throughout undergrad and, even now, he's offering to come with you to do something that'll take up half of his off day.

"Hey," You shut your phone after sending a brief message to your husband as Isagi hops into the driver’s seat, hair slightly damp and wearing an oversized hoodie with a pair of sweats as he had just gotten out of the shower. "Thanks for coming with me, you didn’t have to."

Your stepbrother shrugs his shoulders in response as he adjusts the side and rearview mirrors before starting the ignition. "I’ve got nothing going on today. Besides," Isagi eyes you playfully and pinches your exposed thighs between your dress leg slits. "Who knows what might happen if I let you go off by yourself?"

You return the favor with a light slap over his head, earning a loud yelp from the male. "It’s just an open house tour, not like I’m going off to war."

He scoffs cheekily, fixing his hair. "Yeah, but the realtor could be a serial killer or worse—" Isagi leans towards you and lowers his voice. "—an undercover clown."

You shrink, back pressing against the car door, and laugh. "The only undercover clown I see here is you.”

"You’re so lame." Isagi huffs before stepping on the gas pedal.

After a quick game of rock, paper, and scissors over who gets possession of the aux, he begrudgingly accepts defeat and allows you to play everything but country. When he manages to get on the highway, he speaks again, turning down the music volume just slightly. "What’s Sae up to these days? I hardly see him come to our family functions anymore."

You stop humming to the current song and break your gaze from the window. There's a small frown that forms, without you realizing it, and you bite your lips. "You know how his schedule usually is. Campaigns and interviews got him busier nowadays. But he should be landing home later."

"Later today?" Isagi quirks a brow.

You nod, shifting in your seat. "Mhm, he said he’ll call me once the flight lands. Why?"

There’s a long pause before Isagi answers, shrugging his shoulders, and turns at the exit. "No reason."

The drive there is relatively smooth. You guys pass the time with quick snippets of what's going on in your lives since Isagi had just returned overseas from a match and, despite not really knowing the ins and outs of football that much, you're still willing to listen to whatever he's rambling on about. It's one of the small things that you adore about Isagi, he's shamelessly passionate about his career, and oddly enough, the conversation gives you a burst of energy.

You shoot back with your own life updates, though a bit more mild and mundane to his travels and exciting goals. You briefly mention a new job promotion, your closest friends announcing their pregnancy, Sae's new ad campaigns, and all the other houses you've toured within the past three months. The current house you're viewing today seems promising and within Sae's expected pay range.

From what you've seen online, it's a three-story house built near the edge of a hill with an attached infinity pool, a masterchef-styled kitchen, and a private built-in gym. You don't really need all of that, but who are you to deny your husband's generosity?

Isagi lets out a long whistle when he pulls up next to the realtor's car on the long, winding driveway. "You're seriously gonna be living here?" He seems to be in disbelief at the size and so are you. It's a lot bigger in person than what the pictures offer.

"Maybe," You hop out of the car, brushing off any sort of dust collecting to your dress, and adjust your purse straps. "Hopefully, this will be the one."

While you didn’t think the realtor would be a creep, Isagi wasn’t wrong when he suggested tagging along. Upon entering the house, the realtor immediately makes an unwarranted comment about your figure, commenting on how nicely the dress hugs your body before offering his hand. Isagi intercepts smoothly by introducing himself as your boyfriend, which honestly came out of left field, but at least the realtor backed off for the remainder of the tour. After an hour of showcasing, the agent hands his business card to Isagi and nearly stumbles over his feet when leaving the property.

"Is he gone?"

Isagi pulls one of the curtains aside and nods. "Yeah, his car isn’t in the driveway anymore."

"Ugh, it’s a shame but at least the place is nice." You briefly snap a couple of photos of the living room and kitchen. "I think we might put in an offer by the end of the week."

"It's not too far from my place either," Isagi adds. He wanders around the kitchen some more, pulling the cabinet drawers open and playing with the faucets carefree now that the agent is out of sight. "Think I could crash here sometime?" He jokes.

"As much as I love having your annoying ass around, I think not." You giggle when a cute pout forms on his lips. "Okay, maybe like once a month." It's hard to say no to your stepbrother sometimes.

You meet up with him in the kitchen, hands gently gliding across the marble kitchen countertop and stopping when Isagi manages to pull out an unopened champagne bottle from the fridge. He waves it around for a bit before signaling at the glasses in the cupboards.

Isagi bites his lips thoughtfully. "You wanna?"

Why not? It's been quite the ride to get here and you like to think of this as an early celebration. You pull out two glasses and eagerly watch as Isagi opens the bottle. He fumbles a bit with the top and a good amount of the liquid starts spilling out, dripping over the countertop and onto the floor.

"Shit, wait let me clean that up—" He rushes to grab a nearby towel though you beat him to it with your own pair of napkins from your purse.

"It's okay, I've got it, Yoichi." You start to bend down but he grabs a hold of your wrist, forcing you back up.

"No," His tone is firm and you could've sworn there's something fleeting that flashes across his eyes for a moment. "Let me take care of it."

And for whatever reason, you let him. "Alright..."

Isagi takes his time cleaning up the spill. He's careful like that, maybe because he knows you're insistent on buying this property. Knowing him, he wants to make sure everything is perfect.

His hands stop when it reaches your shoes and you feel your breath catching in your throat. The sight of him on his knees triggers a reaction you can't quite understand. You shove the thoughts away and cough loud enough once you notice him hesitating.

"Is there something wrong?" Your voice comes out faint, almost breathy.

"It got on your dress," Isagi states casually, lifting his head to meet your confused gaze. "Mind if I get that for you?" He whispers the last part as if there's a hidden intention behind his words.

You're not sure if your dress got wet. You're positive that nothing spilled on it. But, according to your kinder-spirited stepbrother, there are a few spots and you suppose it'll be bad to leave it unattended.

"Sure," You answer on instinct.

"That's good," Isagi begins dabbing the cloth gently against the fabric, slowly making his way up until he's hovering over your pelvis.

You have no idea why you're starting to feel yourself burn all over the place. It feels like Isagi is taking mental pictures of your figure, storing them all in his head as you feel his eyes trace your skin. Goosebumps start trailing down your arms and you shift your legs together. "Yoichi—"

Isagi stops his motions and tips his head down, letting his bangs fall over his eyes. He lets the towel fall to the floor and you twitch when you begin to feel his callous palms hiking all the way up your legs. It's strangely hypnotic, watching your stepbrother do this and you're not sure why you're allowing it to happen. Everything begins to feel hazy, surreal, and wrong.

Your gut twists on itself inside out when his fingers toy with the waistband of your panties. Surely, there are some champagne spills there? Right? Maybe that's why you feel comfortable spreading your legs for him to clean it up. The two of you silently exchange dazed glances when you guide his hands, brushing the panties to the side of your legs as your heat gains exposure to the air.

"Gotta clean this one too," He rasps out. And you take a deep, shuddering breath when Isagi's lips latch onto your folds, wasting no time with his tongue. You feel like your heart is going to pound out of your chest.

A thousand questions flood through your mind. Has he always viewed you this way? How are you going to present this to Sae? Should you even say anything to your husband at this point? They're the wrong questions to be focusing on, you know that better than anyone. In a split second, your healthy relationship with Isagi has opened so many cracks around its edges that it's now something completely irreparable.

And you're ashamed of just how goddamn good this feels.

"You're so sweet down here." Isagi's eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, already seemingly drunk off of you.

Your eyes threaten to flutter shut as his tongue traces around, larping up your intoxicating slick. Isagi lets out a low groan when your fingers run through his hair, gripping it just slightly forward enough to allow his nose to brush against your aching nerve.

All of this comes crashing down when a familiar ringtone goes off. You nearly jump at the rapid vibrations from your purse and hastily fish out your phone, heart dropping at the contact that's on the screen.

"Pick it up, I'll be quiet." The way that easily comes out of his mouth makes you want to throw up.

You swallow back a moan and clench the phone tight in your hands. "Yoichi, I'm being serious...! If he finds out we're both dead!"

"Then make me."

His hot breath hovers over your clit as he looks up, masking his ill intentions behind his seemingly big, innocent eyes. Those very same eyes that would comfort you after a bad day, the same eyes that shine whenever you told him about an achievement—no matter how big or small—, and the very same eyes that are now clouded with something more sinister as he searches for an answer in your own pair.

"If you don't want it then push me away. Make up your mind or else Sae's gonna be worried." Isagi mocks your voice when attempting to say your husband's name. The way it rolls off his tongue makes your stomach churn and the wedding band on your hand suddenly feels unbearably tight.

You shouldn't. You know better. You're in love with Sae Itoshi and this—whatever this is—needs to stop.

"You're turning into a mess down here, sis." You attempt to close your legs together but his grip is like iron. Isagi tilts his head to the side and huffs over your nub. "I said push me, baby."

"Y-Yoi—" Your words get stuck in your throat as he 'accidentally' brushes his lips against your heat. Another dark glint flashes across his eyes and he grins.

You pick up the call and clear your throat, but your free hand wanders to your stepbrother's head, giving him the slightest nudge so that his nose brushes against your slick heat.

"Hi babe, how is everything?" You're trying so hard to level your voice.

"Just landed," Sae replies. There are muffled voices in the background, which you assume are his bodyguards and paparazzi. After some awkward shuffling, he asks, "Are you at the property right now?"

"Yeah," You continue to tug at Isagi's hair, suppressing a moan when he flicks his tongue a bit too hard over your sensitive nub. "It's spacious and has a nice backyard, I—I think you'll like it." You're beginning to pant, almost whining, under your stepbrother's touch.

"Mhm, send over pictures when you can. Is Isagi with you right now?"

You nearly choke out a sob as his fingers begin to edge their way inside. "Y-Yes!" You sputter out, launching forward as your knees begin to grow weak.

"Hey, are you okay?"

You can't stop the twitching and bucking of your legs. Isagi notices and wraps a free arm around the back of your legs, keeping you upright and pressed against his face. "I-I'm fine, why?" You breathe out.

"You sound like you're sick." Sae is concerned. Concerned for your well-being while you are currently getting fingered by your stepbrother.

You almost cry when you feel Isagi’s fingers slip out of your sloppy folds. He gets up from his knees, gripping your waist as you stumble forward from the loss in pleasure, and grabs a hold of your phone. As if he's playing a game, Isagi holds up a finger to his lips, silently asking you to keep quiet. It’s almost scary how fast you see him transition from being an absolute monster to back to being your loving stepbrother all in a second.

Even with his mouth covered in your slick, he clears his throat and speaks with confidence to Sae. "She's feeling a bit down now but I'll drive her back once we're done."

"Is that so?" Sae lets out a heavy sigh. "Thanks, Isagi. I should be back before dinner so keep me updated."

"Anytime, we'll see you later!" Isagi grins over the line before twisting his head down at you. "Sis, do you have anything else to say?" There is it. That look again. His smile sends shivers down your legs as he presses the device to your ear, rubbing it firmly against the side of your face.

You can't find the power within you to break free from Isagi's taunting gaze. The way his lips grow wider as fear washes over yours makes you only fall for his touch just more. It's almost addicting as much as it's wrong.

"I love you, Sae." You force out the words and your stepbrother has the audacity to laugh.

Thankfully, Sae doesn't hear it. "I love you too. I'll talk to you guys later." And the line drops.

Isagi doesn't give you time to recollect your thoughts as he plunges his fingers back into your warmth. Your body staggers under him, hips matching his feverous rhythm, throwing the last of your morals out the window.

"Oh my god—!"

"You love him, yeah?" He hums in the crook of your neck and presses his hardened length against your plush thighs. "Love him more than me?" Isagi coos.

You throw your head into his chest, eyes shut tight, and inhale his stimulating scent. "I love him, y-yes I do...!" You fumble over the words and make a mournful sound.

"Is that so? Well, it doesn't matter either way—" Isagi drags you easily in his arms to the bedroom and positions himself behind you while facing the full-body mirror by the closet. "—because you're going to be screaming out my name." He pulls down your dress straps and starts leaving hungry, sloppy kisses across your neck and shoulder blades.

A shaky breath escapes your lips and you shut your eyes, tilting your head to the side, allowing him even more access. "Yoi..."

"Look at yourself, sis." His sudden sharp tone makes your eyes shoot up. His sweatpants fall down around his thighs and you see him stroking his thick length in the mirror. Isagi presses it against your increasingly wet folds, groaning from how easily your body accepts him, and gives your ass a harsh slap. "Watch how I fuck you."

You can barely recognize yourself in the mirror. Lipstick smeared, tears pooling at your eyes from a mixture of pleasure and guilt, dress straps slipping off your flushed shoulders, and the numerous amounts of hickeys from your stepbrother marred against your skin. And you still have that damn wedding ring on.

Isagi sucks his teeth in as he watches your chest rise and fall when he slowly enters you. The feeling is different compared to Sae's.

Your stepbrother's cock is thicker and angled more to the right, hitting and stretching out spots that you didn't know existed. Once you bottom him out, Isagi pulls back his hips before snapping them back into place. Just one thrust from him is enough to knock the air out of you. He keeps repeating the motion until you're a writhing mess and a puddle from your heat collects onto the hardwood floor.

"A-Ah—w-wait fuckfuckfuck...!"

Isagi snatches your face in his hand and pulls you up against his chest, making his cock nest deeper into your velvety walls. "Visit me often, yeah? It's not fair that he gets to fuck this pretty pussy every day."

You let out a muffled moan when Isagi collides his lips against yours, his tongue immediately seeking refuge in your mouth. Everything feels so hazy, so intense, nothing like this reminds you of how sweet and gentle Isagi usually treats you.

"Baby," He breathes, relocating his hand on your face to your neck, he gives it a tender squeeze. "I'm better, aren't I?" Isagi lets out a whine when he feels your insides tightening up around him.

Your eyes are glossed over, drool seeping out from the edge of your mouth as you mumble, "I—I don’t know… I’m—aaah…”

"Huh? What was that?" He pulls back, keeping the tip in, and chuckles when he watches your face twist in disappointment at the loss of feeling. "Say it and I'll give you what you want."

Isagi watches your reflection, paying close attention to the way your lips quiver at your next words. It's almost as if he's getting off at seeing your internal conflict with tears sticking hot against your lashes. Finally, you give in. "Y-You're better, Yoichi... you fill me up more than Sae..."

His eyes widen with glee. "That's what I fucking thought." Within seconds, he adjusts his grip on your hips and snaps back into your puffy folds. "If he ever makes you cry, you know your big brother is going to take care of you, right? No one can take care of you like I can."

You catch your breath when his toned biceps lift you in his arms. The second your back meets the mattress, his length stretches your hot entrance again.

"Shit, it's like you're made for me," Your legs hang limp over his shoulders as he presses deeper. "You take me in so good."

You pant uncontrollably under him, wanting to start sentences but being unable to finish as his thrusts and the lewd wet sounds from your heat bounce off the walls. You can tell by the dark look in Isagi's eyes that he relishes in the feeling of making you feel overwhelmed and stimulated. Every time when you call out his name, when your moans are forced out by his animalistic thrusts, he clenches his grip harder around you.

"Get on your knees, baby," Isagi coos and he lets out a dark chuckle when you obediently nod.

You struggle to get on all fours, lower body shaken to its core from the intense raw pleasure. You’re taken aback when you see the sheer amount of sweat and other bodily fluids that stain the mattress sheets beneath you. While you're brain is trying to process how on earth you guys are going to clean this up, Isagi has taken hostage your hips again, lifts your dress up, and is already repositioning himself from behind. With a swift swipe of his tip, he claims his territory once again.

"Fuck," He hisses, watching the plump of your ass jiggle at every thrust he makes. His other hand twists underneath you, digits finding their home on your clit. "You make the sweetest sounds, you know that?"

A familiar coil builds in your stomach. A feeling that has brought you and Sae closer dozens of times before. Only, this time, you feel yourself about to come undone by the hands of a different man. As his fingers work their final motion around your throbbing clit, your vision turns foggy, and your body slumps onto the mattress as your orgasm washes over you. Isagi groans as your walls fluctuate and squeeze desperately around his length, sending him close to his own ending.

His fingers dig deep into the flesh of your ass, leaving half-crescent moons, as he pumps streaks of white inside and pulls out immediately, allowing some to finish dribbling out on your back. The sight of you spasming with the combination of both your and his fluids spewing out causes him to moan in delight.

"Once a month, right?" He repeats your earlier promise, hot breath ticking your wet skin. When he realizes that you're too dumb-fucked to respond back, he reaches over and attempts to wipe the sweat collecting on your face. His normal bright smile comes back and it's like nothing has changed. "Let's get ready to meet up with Sae."

There's a heavy shift in the air when dinner arrives.

Isagi had graciously offered his hoodie to cover up the hickeys, knowing damn well that your husband is going to see them regardless when you return to your shared apartment. Still, Isagi believes he's still doing his due diligence as a good stepbrother.

You're sitting across from Sae and have been avoiding both males' gazes throughout the evening. From the second you sat down, to the moment Sae kissed your cheek, it felt so hard to breathe. You're not sure if Isagi is helping or making the situation worse by rubbing his hand back and forth on your thigh.

It's almost an hour into dinner and you've only taken three bites and are on your third glass of wine. Being the attentive husband he is, Sae picks up on your uneasiness and sets down his fork.

"Everything alright?" Sae eyes the two of you across the table.

"Yeah," Isagi speaks for you and curls an arm around your shoulder. "She's just feeling under the weather, remember?"

You're too overwhelmed by everything going on, so you lean into his touch, hands gripping your thighs in the process like you're trying to crush something, knuckles white and fingertips bruising.

You hate how going back to your husband's arms after this, talking about your future together, and potentially starting a family—all of it seems like it's the most daunting feeling in the world.

KINKTOBER TAGLIST (PART I)

@milkistoshi @mareonyan @saenora @blissblossom @wowonamo

#doobean:kinktober23 #bllk smut #bllk #blue lock smut #blue lock #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi smut #whoops sorry my fingers slipped #cw: cheating #im sorry sae ...#i love u #cw: stepcest #doobean writes

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bahrtofane · 2 months

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here we go again - pt.1

pt. 2 , pt.3

jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader

empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again.

word count : 1K+

watch it : mild fluff, heavy on the angst, situationships, toxic relationships, Jude is kinda an ass in this one sorry, not very happy ending

happy valentines day LOL

—--

you and Jude have a complex history, complex relationship.

you aren't officially together but at the same time you are exclusive. it's odd, but it's what works at the moment, (even if you wish he would just grow the balls to make you his already.)

you get he's a busy guy, top player both club and international. you aren't going to force him to choose you or make him get with you while his career is soon about to peak.

your wishes for more soon fade into the background as he presses gentle kisses into your skin. he called you a few hours prior, wondering if you wanted to keep him company while he binges movies and orders you a pizza. you said yes, maybe a little foolishly. but it's hard to stay away from him.

he's addicting. maybe it's a rush of being with someone whose whole existence is so grand. maybe it's the fact of knowing you have what millions of others crave for. you don't know, you try not to read into the intricacies. bad habit.

so here you are, face pressed up against his chest while you lay side by side on this stupidly large couch, action movie playing, your pizza done, belly full and body warm.

"what are you thinking about love?" he mumbles.

"you." you shrug.

"me ?" he chuckles.

you hum, wiggling deeper into the pile of blankets.

"i've been thinking about you. and us." he confesses, almost shy. the movie playing in front of you has long fizzled out of your attention.

hey might as well rip the band aid off.

"me too," you hum, "why aren't we official again?"

you feel him sigh dramatically, "because my career."

you squint. there goes the same lousy explanation. "you could put more i don't know, thought into us."

he shifts under the blankets , "valentine's day is coming up. dont worry love i have it all planned out." he assures you.

"oh yeah ?" you tease

"just you wait, the best valentine's day ever." he kisses the top of your head soundly.

—--

worst fucking valenties day of your life. you don't remember being more livid a day in your life. you cant remember the last time so much pure rage burned through you, hot enough to hurt. you didn't think it was humanly possible to clench your fist so tight youve dug into your palm hard enough to draw blood.

your head hurts, your legs hurt, you think your arm is starting to bruise from where you were shoved into a table on "accident" but what would Jude know. he was so busy taking pictures with models and laughing at corny jokes while you kept yourself company. texting and calling didnt work and he didn't even try to give you any attention the whole night, you can't keep doing this with him.

"you can't just run off-" Jude shouts from somewhere behind you.

"or what Jude. or fucking what." you seeth, not bothering to face him, storming out into the night.

It's your fault for trusting him all those nights ago. your fault for falling for the same shit over and over.

he sprints to catch up to you, "i don't know why you're being like this."

you stop dead in your tracks, "oh i don't know, let's think. you didn't tell me your escorts would be there. and to top it all fucking off they have to nerve to be on my ass the whole night, not letting me get anywhere near you even through we walked in together?"

he doesn't respond and you half the mind not to punch the shit out of him, walking further away from the club you just came from, heels clanking against the sidewalk so hard it hurts, pulling on your dress so you dont trip and fall. maybe you should let it go so you can fall flat on your face. that would be a better ending to the night than seeing his face. silly stupid you thinking this would work.

"happy fucking valentines day huh Jude. you take me to a damn club, you ignore me the whole night, and you spend all your time surrounded by other women who might as well just suck you off right then and there." you yell, hell if anyone hears. you want them too, you want him to be as humiliated as you feel.

Bellinghams date thrown away the moment you step inside, ignored and tossed for some common whores. oh you can't wait to see where your face ends up online after tonight. you can see the headlines now.

he grabs your arm, making you face him, "love listen-"

"no, you dont get to fucking do that anymore. you cant keep sweet talking your way out of things when you fuck up. why can't you just pretend to care" your voice shakes, you can feel tears brimming in your eyes.

"i'm not trying to talk my way out of it, i'm trying to explain." he tries.

you yank your arm out of his grip, "i'm not listening anymore, im done. all i asked was one day for us, just valentines day to make things work. and you showed me you dont care enough for that."

"please, let me fix this." he pleads.

"its too late."

"i wanted things to work so fucking bad, and you humiliated me Jude. i imagined a nice dinner, hell i would have settled for take out and a few kisses. that's how bad i want things to work, that's how bad i wanted you." you tremble.

"please my darling. let's talk about this. come back inside and i'll show everyone that you are mine," he holds a hand out to you, waiting. silently pleading with each breath he takes.

the street lights dance across his skin as for a moment you almost believe him. for a moment you think about stepping back inside with him. you can't do that to yourself, not again.

"no, iim done. don't follow me, don't call me dont text nothing. i want nothing more to do with you." your firm, final. swallowing the lump that builds in your throat, youd be damned if he sees you cry after this fucking shit show.

he stops in his tracks at this, not bothering to try and stop you.

it hurts more than it should to leave him behind you, but you honest to god can not keep up with his lifestyle.

all those articles and rumors were right you suppose, he's an arrogant stuck up bastard with too much money to know what to do with, too cocky for his own good and destroys anything good that comes his way. you hope he's happy without you.

#jude x you #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #footballer angst #jude bellingham angst #footballer x reader #footballer fic #footballer one shot #footballer imagine #footballer x y/n #footballer x you

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spideyhexx · 4 months

Note

the first time coryo & sej's cocks touched was when reader said she wanted to suck both of them off at the same time or neither of them were gonna cum so they both just sucked it up and when she told them to kiss in order to let them cum they did that too 🤭🤭🤭🤭

anon, i've been thinking about this since you sent it and i'm very happy to answer it <3 i hope y'all like this one i feel insane

mdni

You'd probably offer it after both of them have had a hard day and you know Sej is too tired to just fuck his frustrations out. And since you have Coryo with you guys now, you figure, why can't I just pleasure you guys at the same time? No harm, no foul, right?

Honestly, Sej thinks it’s a great idea and Coryo is the one to protest even though deep down, his heart is jumping at the idea of it.

“Coryo, I’m not gonna let either of you cum if I can’t do this,” and you pout at him, but realize that maybe he's just too embarrassed to admit he wants it.

So you lean up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I know you want it. I’ll make it extra good, I promise,” and you kiss right below his ear, a weak spot for him and he folds immediately.

So now you got both of the boys slouching against the pillows on your bed. They're next to each other, shoulder brushing against shoulder as you lay between them.

You're swirling your tongue around Coryo first, given that you knew Sej could last longer since he's more used to your mouth.

Coryo's hand caresses the side of your head as he watches you and he dares to avert his gaze to Sej's cock which is being held by your hand, your thumb rubbing up and down against the vein that runs along the side of his length.

He lets out a moan at the sight and you smirk, letting some spit dribble onto him before your other hand wraps around him, jerking his cock slowly as your mouth finds Sej's tip.

While Coryo's moans sound light and airy, Sej's feel lower and you know he's holding them back.

Your eyes focus on Sej's lips, parted just a little as he sucks in a harsh breath. Then to Coryo's lips, his bottom one bitten underneath his teeth.

You take Sej out of your mouth, tapping his cock against your cheek as you say to them, "you guys should kiss."

Neither of them look at each other as they stare wide eyed at you and you rolls your eyes.

"Oh, c'mon, you've already tasted each other's cum one way or the other, what's the harm in kissing? Plus, I wanna see," you add in the last part in a quick whisper and Sej chuckles and turns his head to Coryo.

Your hands continue rubbing each of them and you watch them with curious eyes. Coryo's cheeks redden even more as he looks at Sej.

"Are you okay with this?" Sej leans closer first, his nose ever so slightly bumping against Coryo's.

He nods, speaking just above a whisper, "yes."

Sej presses forward to connect his lips to Coryo's and it's soft at first. Sej's hand remains on your head while Coryo's stay awkwardly at his sides, fiddling with the sheet below him.

You watch them pull apart, gazing into each other's eyes for a small second before they're kissing again, their lips slotting together almost perfectly in your eyes.

You see Sej press harder into it and you swirl your thumb in a circle on top head of Coryo's cock, causing the man to moan into Sej's mouth. It felt evil, but the sight that you get to see makes it worth it as Sej prods his tongue into Coryo's mouth.

You pick up the pace, stroking Coryo's cock with a tighter grip, leaning over to take Sej back in your mouth.

Your cheeks hollow as you suck on him, slowly taking each inch of his length into your mouth until you're hearing Sej moan back against Coryo's lips. You take him out of your mouth, smiling and kissing down your lover's length.

You feel Coryo shift as Sej's hand moves to cup the man's cheek.

Coryo has no thoughts in his head, just the feeling of Sej's mouth and tour hand consuming every fiber of his being. And with these blank, desire filled thoughts, he turns on his side to kiss Sej deeper, but the movement angles his cock just enough that his tip brushes up against Sej's.

That small amount of friction makes Coryo's abdomen tighten and he's spilling himself onto your lips and Sej's cock.

Sejanus breaks away from the kiss with Coryo and meets your eyes. When he sees the mess Coryo's made on you and on himself, it triggers his own release and you stuff the tip of his cock into your mouth so you can take every drop he has.

When he's done and you've rested your head on his thigh, replaying everything that happened, you notice Coryo's head pushed into one of your pillows and you sit up, cupping his cheeks and turning his head to look at you.

"don't be embarrassed, that was the hottest fucking thing i've ever seen, okay?" And Coryo can't even look you in the eye cause you've still got his cum on your lips and chin, but he nods in your hold.

Sej leans over you to wrap his arm around you and Coryo, finding Coryo's hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

let's chat about sejanus, coryo, or both, here :)

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radiance1 · 7 months

Note

de-aged Danny is one of my babies,

Shit hits the fan with the giw and Danny is super injured and Clockwork has to mess with some things so Danny doesn’t return to his core being vulnerable and sends him millions of miles away to Gotham and in the process Danny becomes 6/10 years old and is weeks healed due to being smaller and costing less ectoplasm but is still achy, Danny is steered to Jason’s apartment where he just got off his shift and then his is the twist! Jason is mute due to an accident with the joker and Batman (batman unintentionally causing his muteness) and out of reflex of a child on his counter hand first into a box of Cheerios let’s put a exasperated noise of flames and a lighter and Danny responds with his own spark of electricity and Jason is shocked (hehe) that Danny can understand and even communicate can he just lets out everything he’s been doing since “holy shit I can talk to someone normally” and then he realizes this child has the same scar as him and is pissed but Danny calms him down and calms the pits and he’s like “okay you’re mine now shit- I’m like Bruce- no. I’ll think about this later-“ Danny is super cute and Jason is having a field day with parent hood and Jason gives Danny a comm for when he goes out but he’s only allowed to speak in ghost speak and the rest are confused when Jason sprints away and they follow to see Danny in Jason’s arms being lulled to sleep with a man on the ground knocked out or dead who knows not Jason because it was shoot & punch and ask questions later and then Danny says sleepily “Oh your daddy’s brothers, hi” like it’s normal to meet family in this situation and Jason puts him to bed before signing “Say anything to Bruce and you will never be called uncle or attend his birthday in your life.”

Bruce only finds out when Jason some how ends up super injured and can’t sign and Danny translates (no editing just straight he said fucking hell) and introduces himself as Danny Todd, Bruce privately cried a little

The Joker catches wind of Red Hood's son and as you know, the Joker loves breaking people, both physically and mentally.

So he tries that shit with Danny, and because this is highly targeted specifically towards Red Hood. He even uses the method he killed Red Hood with when he was just a little itty-bitty robin.

Don't even talk about time because the entire Batfam suddenly gained fucking superspeed (They don't, but at the rate they're going they might as well have it), find the location the Joker is holding Danny at and descend on the Joker like a pack of starving wolves catching their prey.

Like, no joke (heh). They all throw straight hands; Joker gets tag teamed to hell and back by every one of them and none of them are holding back.

Later the Joker is on the ground a mangled mess, passed the fuck out and Batman just decides to go "Peace" and leaves him for dead without looking back, takes Danny (With Jason's explicit permission) and drives off in the Batmobile to Batburger because Danny was hungry.

Literally everyone else:

Joker just gets absolutely violated even further than what he already got, now that Batman's gone and very much left him for dead there ain't no one here to even try and stop them.

Gets beaten so hard he regains consciousness, and that guy still finds some reason to laugh.

A couple hours the Joker is just a mangled corpse with an inch of life in em and they give Jason the honor of finishing him off because not only was he the one to kill him, but he also tried to kill his son. Joker gets a bullet through his skull with both Danny and Bruce none the wiser because Bruce suddenly found himself on babysitting duty.

Danny was fully well and capable of getting out of that situation on his own, and he would've, but the Batfam was literally just faster in getting to the Joker than he was.

And he was literally with the Joker.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover

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savannahsdeath · 7 months

Note

ok imagine reader just got to jackson and is super confident and basically tells everyone what to do all the time. like people always listen to her bc she’s lowkey scary. ellie’s a bit of a loser all the time at first but then gains confidence and tops reader. readers so shocked bc she’s used to getting what she wants shshsh

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! public sex, cocky!reader n the rest is obvious from the request🤗

writers note: this is a scrap im sorry im sick.. and im not apologizing for leaving yall on edge sorry guys🤭 also it has 1212 words??? signs

"you and jesse." you said to dina, after a long discussion about who's going to patrol today.

"why not me?" ellie scoffed. "i want to patrol too!"

"oh, sorry, els." you laughed mockingly. "maybe next time."

the appointed couple started slowly walking towards the stud, obeying you without thinking much. the girl that had to stay against her will kicked a single rock in disappointment but didn't say anything else.

"come on, we gotta sign it." you waved your hand in a 'follow me' gesture and started walking towards a public building, to which everyone had access.

it's where a lot of important meetings happen, but for now it seemed empty.

you opened a book and searched for a label with today's date before writing dina's and jesse's names down.

"now, what am i supposed to do? the town's boring." she complained as you sat on a couch, next to her.

"but it's safe." you rolled your eyes. "you'll survive a day off."

"you are, unfortunately, probably right." ellie grumbled. "so you're just going to sit here and relax while i go stir-crazy?"

"mhm. oh, and i'm always right." you nonchalantly shrugged.

she barely managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes at you. "of course."

you looked at her and smirked. you could see how mad she was, but you knew she won't do anything about it. she wasn't the type to argue, especially not with you. she just continued fidgeting with her fingers, like she always did in your presence. you chuckled to yourself as you thought about it, enjoying her discomfort.

you leaned back in your seat and relaxed, satisfied with the view of her irritated expression. she looked like she wanted to say something, but she knew it would only fuel your ego and make her feel worse.

eventually, she turned to look at you, and her facial expression begun to betray an emotion. she was clearly not happy with how things were playing out here.

"i know you always have to get your way, but it would be nice if you actually listened to me every once in a while." she said, not raising her voice, but making it clear that she's becoming more irritated as the situation continues.

you frowned in disbelief. "excuse me?"

she looked away again, her voice turning into a whisper. "you heard me."

"excuse me?" you repeated, your tone shifting to be more firm and authoritative.

ellie looked back at you, as if in a defiant manner.

"you need to learn when to keep your mouth shut." her voice was still soft, but you could see the fire in her eyes as she stared at you unwaveringly. she was clearly not willing to back down from her position.

silence

you were to stunned to say anything.

ellie was the first one to speak, speaking rather calmly, given the circumstances. "i said what i had to say. you can go ahead and tell me to shut up now."

she remained staring at you, not blinking, not fidgeting, just staring into your eyes.

"you're funny." you smirked, not taking her comments to heart at all. "i like that."

"oh, you like that?" ellie says as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. there is a certain amount of playfulness in her voice, although the underlying tension between you two is still present. "you like that someone finally spoke up?"

"now that i think about it.." your grin widened and you stood up, walking to a nearby counter. "no, not really."

"oh, i like this game." ellie said in return, getting up off of the couch. she slowly made her way over to the same counter area where you were. her movements were steady and calculated, not showing an inkling of fear or anxiety, even though she was well aware of the fact that this was an intense situation. she was almost enjoying it. "let's see, what else can i do to get on your nerves, hmm? maybe this?" she leaned against the counter, close enough to you that you could feel her breath on your neck. there was a small part of you that was worried about where this was heading, but then, unexpectedly, she begun to speak very softly to you, close to your ear, making this part stay silent. "i can make this much worse, you know."

you can't help but feel a tinge of excitement running down your back. this was a risky move by her, and she was almost daring you to do something about it.

"i don't think there's anything worse than standing so near to you." you whispered, but didn't even try to push her away, expecting she'll back down by herself.

ellie leaned even closer, to the point where your faces were barely an inch away from each other. you felt her breath, you could see the little details on her face, everything was amplified to this degree.

she slowly whispered into your ear, so gently that it almost felt like a caress. "now, you really don't know what you're talking about."

ellie paused for a moment, but not for long. she reached her right hand out and took your left in hers. her touch felt warm and soft, but at the same time there was almost an electric tension in the air around you two.

she slowly begun to speak to you again. "why do we have to fight, huh? is this what you really want?" you felt a slight pull on your hand as she pulled you closer to her.

you sighed, knowing this wasn't in your scenario, but you had to play along. "there weren't any problems, as long as you were listening to me."

ellie's eyes betrayed a hint of irritation once again. "well, there's one problem there." she said as she continued to hold onto your hand. "you aren't always right." she leaned in even closer as she spoke. "sometimes you're just a stubborn, idiotic, bossy, and insufferable pain in the ass."

she finally pulled you all the way up to her. you could feel her breath on your face as she stared intently into your eyes. she seemed to be searching for your next move.

"and still people listen to me." you forced a smirk on your face, which probably turned out as a nervous grimace.

"you know why?" she tugged a strand of your hair behind your ear. "because you're new here. people don't know your backstory and they're scared of you. they think you're... mysterious."

you felt ellie starting to caress your face as she held you in place.

she whispered; "but right now, you're not in the control."

after she said this, she slowly started to move her hand down towards your shirt, as if to prove her point.

you frowned for a short second before mumbling a quiet; "i always am." which turned out way less convincing than you wanted it to be.

ellie's hand slowly inched beneath your shirt. she was very clearly enjoying seeing you squirm in this position.

"oh, is that so?" she said in response to your previous comment. "then why don't you stop me? you're in control, remember?"

the fact is, you could. she'd let you, too. but you didn't want to. you let her do that, and a few more things, even though you risked getting caught. that's what you needed all along.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #wlw smut #reqs open #ellie williams smut #cocky!reader #bratty!reader #bossy!reader

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cloudybarnes · 8 months

Text

Private Encounters

Pairing: Cardan Greenbriar x reader

Summary: you were tired of Cardan constantly attacking you and your friends. one day, though, Cardan asks to speak with you privately, and no good things could come from the prince of elfhame wanting to speak with you with no one else around

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰

"Hurry up, you guys! We're gonna be late again!" Taryn whisper-shouted as you and Jude trailed behind her towards the courtyard.

Usually, you two went alone on your adventures, but Taryn decided she wanted to be spontaneous, too, and wanted to join along. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to have that much fun, and urged you back to class almost as soon as you got there.

"Who cares if we're late?" Jude rolled her eyes. "It's not like anyone would really care."

"Just because they don't like us, doesn't mean I want to draw their attention. Who knows what they'll do." Taryn shifted the picnic basket of food between her hands, nervously. She was always the most cautious of you three; always fearing what they would say or do to you guys.

You scoffed, "Taryn, let's be real. Even if we were there on time and minded our own business, Cardan and his little fanclub would still find some reason to bother us."

Jude chuckled, "he's so insufferable. What I wouldn't do to wipe that idiotic grin off his face."

You laughed, "I'm right there with you. It's like his greatest pleasure is being annoying."

"I don't know." Taryn slows her speed walk to match pace with Jude and I. "I feel like Cardan mostly has it out for you, now, (Y/N)."

You rolled my eyes.

"Oh yeah," Jude agreed. "Ever since we became friends, he's like diverted the hatred for us onto you."

You laughed, "Wow, thanks guys. Who knew being your friend would make a prince despise me."

Jude laughed too. "I don't think it was all our fault. You're human, so he would have hated you anyway."

"That's so reassuring, thanks for that."

Jude smirked, "anytime."

When we finally emerged onto the courtyard where class was taking place, most everyone ignored you, save for the professor.

"Ah," he said, "nice of you three to join us. Please find a seat so we can continue on with our lessons of astronomy."

Taryn bowed her head to keep from looking at anyone. You noticed Jude did not bow her head, but she would not look at the other students.

You, however, must be an idiot to not follow along with them, because your gaze falls straight to Cardan, who is staring back at you with much ferocity.

As the even bigger idiot you are, you do not avert your gaze, but simply glare back at him. To that, and small, devilish grin grows on his face. It almost seems like an invite of this little game you play. He hates you and your friends, goes out of his way to torment you three, and for that, you refuse to back down. Sometimes, you think he likes that you fight him so much.

"(Y/N)," Taryn calls, quietly as to avoid too much attention. She waves you over. Only then do you realize you've been staring at Cardan so long that Jude and Taryn have already set up the blanket and started spreading out the food.

Your cheeks heat as you walk the few feet to where they are sitting. You can hear Cardan snicker as you walk past him and Nicasia.

"What were you thinking!" Taryn scolds as you finally sit down on the blanket. Your professor continues with his lecture, but you don't even bother to pay attention to him.

You shrug, "I'm not really sure. I just can't stand him so much it makes me crazy."

Jude laughs at that. "I'm so glad we're friends, (Y/N). I think I'd go crazy if I didn't have someone else to share my hatred for Cardan with."

You giggle, "well it's a good thing I'm here, then, huh?"

"I don't think anyone is happy you're here."

Looking up from where you're sitting, you see Nicasia and Cardan looming down over you. Seems like the lesson is over as everyone else has abandoned the courtyard.

"Oh, Nicasia, always a pleasure." You rolled your eyes as you stood up. Behind you, you hear the shuffling of Jude standing and pulling Taryn up with here. "To what do we owe you coming over here and bothering us for?"

She smirked, "I have no reason for being near you filthy mortals other than to make sure you stay in your place. You don't belong here. You're frail, and worthless, and someone needs to remind you of that."

You mocked her with a laugh, "is that really all you've got?"

Taryn let out a quiet gasp.

Nicasia narrowed her eyes. "What did you say?"

You shrugged. "All I'm saying is you give the same excuse every time you come over here. 'I'm putting you in your place', 'make sure you know what a worthless mortal you are'. Blah, blah, blah. It's very redundant, Nicasia, and quite truthfully, it's just tiresome." You said condescendingly.

The fire is her eyes was hot. Her fists balled at her side as she glared at you.

Now, it's not like you were looking for trouble, or that you wanted anything bad to happen to you or your friends. You just could not stand the way she and Cardan always came over to you and caused problems.

The slap was expected. Your cheek burned as Nicasia's hand left your face. Taryn couldn't hold back the very audible gasp that left her lips. Looking back to your friends, Taryn looked utterly frightened, and Jude looked angrier than you'd ever seen her.

Right as Nicasia was about to slap you again, Cardan interrupted her.

"Nicasia," Cardan warned as he lifted his hand, "that is quite enough."

You scoffed. "Oh, and since when are you ever the peace maker?"

Cardan smirked, "Since Nicasia decided she was going to slap you. I quite like your face the way it is."

All heads turned to Cardan as he said that. Nicasia looked hurt, Taryn looked almost as confused as you felt, and Jude just looked disgusted.

You narrowed my eyes at Cardan, despite your confusion. "What games are you playing at, Greenbriar?"

His eyebrows shot up in delightful surprise. A cheeky smirk playing on his lips. "I have no games, (Y/L/N)." He spat out your last name like it disgusted but also intrigued him.

He looked between Nicasia, Jude and Taryn. "You, leave us. I have a few words for (Y/N)."

Jude and Taryn looked at each other, confused and contemplating if they should leave or not. You stood your ground though.

"I'll be fine, guys. I'll just meet you back at Madoc's, okay?" You tried to reassure them, though you weren't exactly sure what you were getting yourself into. All you knew was that you didn't want Cardan to know he frightened you.

Jude nodded her head. "We won't be far. And Cardan," she turned to him, "if you so much as touch one hair on her head, I will-"

"Oh relax, would you, Jude? Always resolving your issues with murder." Cardan rolled his eyes. "Leave us. Now."

Jude glared at Cardan before turning to you and giving you a reassuring look. Just as quickly, she turned away and pulled Taryn off with her.

"And you," Cardan said as he turned to Nicasia. "I believe I ordered you away, as well."

Nicasia looked shocked. "Me? Why would I need to be sent away? Whatever punishment you have for the way she spoke to me, I want-"

"Leave, Nicasia. I won't ask you again."

Stunned, Nicasia's mouth hung open just slightly as she looked between you and Cardan. With a 'hmph', Nicasia turned on her heel and strutted away, leaving behind just Cardan and you.

The two of you stood there in silence. You gazed up at him, trying to decipher why he could possibly want to speak with you alone. Maybe he wants to kill you. Maybe he's grown tired of this cat and mouse game you have going on.

"What do you want, Cardan?"

He smirked, and took a daring step closer to you. "I just wanted to talk with you. You're... interesting. I find you intriguing to say the least."

You raised my brow in confusion. "You find me intriguing? Now I know you're toying with me. What do you really want, Cardan?"

He scoffed. "Is it that hard for you to admit that I might find you interesting?"

"How interesting could I possibly be? I'm mortal, remember? Can't believe you would forget, not after you and your friends made it your entire personalities to constantly remind me of my mortality and how worthless you believe me to be."

Cardan's smirk only grew. "You are quite right. You're mortal. Mortals by nature are fragile, slow, susceptible to our tricks, and yet you seem to be quite the opposite."

Your eyebrows shot up, completely shocked by this sort-of compliment you just received from the Prince of Elfhame.

Cardan continued before you could even get a word out. "I dislike mortals quite a bit. I think they are weak. They have little skill that is worth anything, and they are often succumbed to the nature of our people. You, however, are quite different, (Y/N)."

He took a tender step closer to you. Your breath was caught in your throat. Cardan had never shown any type of interest in you. You thought he'd never actually shown anything other than disgust towards you, but maybe you were wrong.

Maybe all of those teasing smirks and cruel comments were him testing you, trying to figure out just how far he could push you.

"You've stood up to me. You've been given every chance to back down. I've seen how far you are willing to go to defend yourself and those little friends of yours. I find it admirable in a way."

You force out a laugh. "You find it admirable? Everything you consider so 'strong' and 'admirable' about me is what I've had to do to survive this place. You've done nothing but make living here just that much harder than it already is for mortals."

You strode closer to Cardan, persistence on your face. His eyes widened slightly, but the daring smirk never faltered from his lips.

Just as you two were chest to chest, you spoke, "answer now, Cardan, what is it you really wanted to tell me?"

"I've already told you, (Y/N). I think you're admirable. I think you're intriguing. I think there is something about you that keeps drawing me in. Something so pulling, it's frustrating how much I think of you."

No words left your mouth. How could they when your jaw laid open the way it was.

Cardan chuckled. "Now, another reason I wanted you here. I must ask: I know you mortals can lie, something we folk can not do, but how are you so good at pretending?"

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Pretending?"

Cardan's smirk only grew, "pretending you aren't in love with me, that is."

The world had stopped. It felt like your entire world had shattered. This was quite possibly the last thing you thought Cardan would get you alone for.

Anyone with eyes could see that Cardan Greenbriar was gorgeous. All of his kind were gorgeous, but he had exceptional beauty. Beside that, you couldn't find one characteristic about him that you had liked. Sure, maybe he stopped Nicasia from hurting you further than she would have. And by the way Jude recalled his cruelty before they met you, it seemed to have subsided quite a bit since you met him. That still doesn't change the fact that he is cruel, and has been for a long time.

"Cat got your tongue?"

You shook your head clear from your thoughts. "No. Just confused how you could possibly think I would be in love with you."

"You want to know how I know you're in love with me, despite what you might believe?" Cardan grinned and closed the already small space between you two. "Because I know how insufferable you find me. I know how I get under your skin, how you lay awake thinking of how much you hate me. I know this because I feel the same towards you, and despite my feelings of irritation with you, I still find myself completely infatuated by you."

"You are?" You questioned, voice so quiet you might barely have heard it, but Cardan sure did.

He grinned. "Oh, yes. I have been infatuated with you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I wasn't lying earlier when I told Nicasia I'd like her to leave your face the way it is. I think you are pretty for a mortal. You give off this glow and iridescence. You are unlike any other mortal I've come across. The way you've kept me up at night, the way I am excited to see you just to have our little spat had me confused for the longest time. Eventually, I just couldn't take it anymore and I’ve decided to act on it."

You couldn't take it anymore. Everything Cardan said resonated so deeply with you. Somehow he knew exactly how you felt. The way you hated him, the way you were angry with yourself when you thought of him so often, everything he said he felt is exactly what you were going through as well.

You decided, if Cardan was going to act on his confusing feelings, you would act on yours as well.

Already chest to chest, you reached up and gripped Cardan hair, tight enough to hurt, and kissed him with all of the pent up anger and hatred for him you had.

If Cardan was surprised, he didn't seem it. He gripped onto your waist and kissed you back with so much ferocity it made your knees weak.

It was hot, and it was unlike any kiss you've ever had before. Kissing Cardan was unleashing something so deep inside of you. All of your confused feelings for him wrapped up all into a long-awaited kiss.

Gasping for air, you and Cardan separated, though not fully. While you were no longer kissing, you had yet to pull your fingers from the tangles of his hair, and he had no plans of letting go of his hold on your waist.

"I still hate you," you said breathlessly.

Cardan smiled, he actually smiled and replied, "I think I hate you more."

#WOOOOO #something about the cruel prince is gonna do it for me EVERYTIME #do people read the cruel prince fanfiction #im not sure but i wrote it anyway cause i want to oh yea #also this is me coming back to life heyo #im also in a harry potter mood so im probably gonna write some more for the harry potter boys soon hehe #cardan greenbriar #cardan x reader #the cruel prince #the cruel prince x reader #the cruel prince fanfic #cardan greenbriar x reader #jude x cardan #cardan greenbriar fanfic #cardan greenbriar oneshot #cardan greenbriar imagine

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 16 days

Text

In A Rut (Monster!Hawks x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Keigo “Hawks” Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Coworkers to Lovers)

Synopsis: You haven't seen your boss around the office in a while ever since he started feeling "under the weather", but when you decide to visit him one day to cheer him up with some soup, you realize that this isn't a normal spring cold. Your boss is in heat and you, his good little assistant, are the only one who can help him cure it.

Warnings: Monsterfucking; Monsterfucker!Reader; Mild Power Play; Boss x Assistant; Mild BDSM; MDom/fsub; Marking; Heat Symptoms; Hawks Has a Big ol’ Dick; Deepthroat; Cunnilingus; Sloppy, Rough Sex; Scent Play; Overstimulation; Ownership; Multiple Orgasms; Multiple Creampies; Multiple Positions; Cum Play; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Happy spring, y'all!! 💐💐🌼🌼🌻🌻 Fucking FINALLY winter & the cold is gone! Now that the weather is heating up, I wanted to write something about my favorite birdman suffering from heat. Enjoy! -Jazz

********

You’re worried about Mr. Takami.

Or “Hawks” as he’s told several of his employees, staff, and interns to call him around his agency time and time again. But as his personal assistant for over a year, you take respect and professionalism very seriously.

Hawks is one of the most laidback bosses you’ve had in your professional career. He doesn’t make you fetch coffee unless you’re getting some for yourself, he’s flexible with deadlines, he lets you go home early despite the workload, and has all of his employees take off on Fridays…which he also pays for.

Though it’s a nice change, you also can’t help but be wary of Hawks. It isn’t that he’s a bad guy. He is considerably nice��–always greeting you in the mornings; checking up on you in the afternoons; letting you use his office when he isn’t in it, etc.

But he is also extremely cocky. It comes with the territory of being pro hero #2, you suppose, but the way he saunters into the office every Monday through Thursday in his designer clothes and Rolex watch always rubs you the wrong way.

Not to mention he’s a humongous flirt. Your friend calls it being “overly friendly”. She also says he doesn’t flirt with any other woman at his agency like he does you. He always gives you those charming smiles that seem to irk you to no end and puts that flirty lilt in his voice when he speaks to you. Not to mention the constant compliments on your outfits and work that stick with you until the end of your shifts.

Last week on Monday, the last day you saw him, was no different. You were sitting with your friend at your desk that morning, sipping on your iced coffee before the 9 AM meeting. Your friend was giving you the latest gossip on two employees hooking up in the stairwell during lunch last week when you both saw Hawks sauntering into the office.

“Shh, shh!” she hushes you even though you didn’t say anything. She straightened up and smiled at your boss, bowing. “Good morning, Mr. Takami,” she chirps. The blonde, in his navy blue suit and red bottoms, gave you each a smile that lingered on you for too long. “Ladies,” he greets.

You looked away, busying yourself by checking your email. “I’ve got your schedule and plans for today’s meeting for you,” your friend said, passing him a folder. “And your coffee, made by yours truly.” She nudged you, making you narrow your eyes at her.

“Ah, thank you!” Hawks happily sighed. “And I told you before: just call me Hawks. I don’t need all of that ‘Mr’ shit.” His golden eyes then trailed down to you, his stare making you feel uncomfortable in your long-sleeve blouse. “Thank you, Ms. L/N,” he purrs. “See you at the meeting?”

He gave you a wink, a hint at his joking manner, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. He was always picking on you like this. “I’m required to be there as your assistant so, yes,” you replied, blandly so.

He didn’t think anything of it. “Good,” he hummed happily. “I’ll need my right hand when I get tired of talking or my coffee doesn’t kick in fast enough. Carry on.”

He gave you a flitting wink before walking off to his office for some time alone. Once gone, your friend fanned herself. “Oh, my God, he’s so fucking fine!” she groaned. You shushed her, hitting her arm. “Come on, his office is right there!” you hissed. “He might hear you!”

“But isn’t he so fine?” your friend went on, ignoring your warning. “You have to admit that he’s fine!” You chose your words carefully, stirring your straw around in your coffee. “He’s…okay,” you weakly replied. “But he’s our boss! Whatever I think of him doesn’t matter.” At least you told yourself that.

The meeting was about new anti-discrimination policies in workplaces and merging with UA High and Indeed to create a special job website for aspiring pro heroes and those with quirks.

You sat across from Hawks and Rumi, his friend and co-owner of the agency, who sipped on her coffee free of cream and sugar. “Took you long enough,” she grumbled to Hawks. “What, you forget to fluff your feathers this mornin’ or somethin’?”

You giggled to yourself at her joke before the meeting started. You met with Principal Nezu who happily bowed in front of the laptop personally set up to meet his eye level. “Good morning, everyone!” he exclaimed. “I appreciate all of you for your time today, including the Indeed associates, and for Hawks for allowing me to take you away from work for a moment. Now, Hawks, if you would like to share your opinion first?”

The pro sat back in his chair, legs crossed and glasses perched on his eyes. You secretly liked it when he wore glasses. “I think it’s a perfect idea,” he said with a shrug. “As I’m sure all of you know, my agency is open to all new talent, whether they graduated from UA or not. We don’t discriminate against anyone with a particular quirk or education. As long as they are willing to learn, respect our rules, and participate in training, we will hire them.”

“But what if the public has concerns about who we hire and whether they will be able to effectively do their jobs with no UA education or license?” one of the Indeed associates asked. Hawks smiled. “I’m glad you asked that.” He nodded at you, smiling warmly. “Y/N, would you mind answering this question? After all, it’s your wonderful brain that came out with such a well-thought-out plan for this.”

Though you flushed at the compliment, you pushed those butterflies away and stood. “This agency is not new to the scrutiny of the public,” you explain, poised and calm. “Hawks and Nezu-san are proposing the opening of a new pro hero license program for those who cannot afford UA or are over the age of 18. This program would include…” You continued just as you rehearsed, not looking at Hawks who looked dead at you, almost as if he was staring through your clothes.

When you finally finished, you sat and Nezu thanked you for your well-spoken words. “What is your opinion on that, Hawks?” he asked. The pro didn’t answer, too busy staring at you. Now his eyes were hooded and looked slightly sharper than they were before. You squirmed uncomfortably in your seat, mostly because of how warm his stare made you.

“Hawks!” Rumi hisses in his ear. The blonde blinked, snapping out of it. “Huh?” he dumbly asked, looking up at the screen. “Are you alright?” Nezu worriedly asked. Everyone was staring at him, including you. He had never acted like this before. “Yeah, just…” He paused, clearing his throat as a flush appeared on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

Nezu repeated himself, asking for Hawks’ opinion on the internship program and when he’d prefer to announce it. “It is the spring already, but I believe the summer is when most of my student body will be looking to do internships,” he explained.

You watched as Hawks’ eyes grew wide at the mention of spring, but he did his best to keep it lowkey. But you noticed. “U-Uh, yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll do it in April.” You also noticed his body language for the rest of the meeting: his knee bouncing anxiously; his eyes flicking from yours to back at the screen or down at his papers; his cheeks flushed red.

Was he sick? Was it the coffee you made? After the meeting, Rumi confronted him on it, grabbing his elbow. “Hey, what the hell happened in there?” she asked. “You looked like you were about to deck Y/N!”

“I…sorry,” he huffed. “I just…” He paused, seeing you and his eyes roamed over your lower body in your pencil skirt. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he quickly replied before rushing off to his office. You followed him. You don’t know why you did. Maybe you felt obligated to do so as if his assistant. Maybe you just needed to make sure he was okay.

So you knocked on his door, tentatively so. “Come in,” he raggedly said. You opened the door and automatically closed it behind you. Hawks leaned against his desk, his back to you, breathing concerningly hard like he just got off the treadmill.

“Mr. Takami?” you questioned. Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you walked farther into his spacious, high-rise office. “Hawks, is everything alright?” Hawks didn’t look at you as he spoke: “Y-Yeah,” he replied, still sounding winded. “What’s up?”

You stood two feet away from him, afraid to get near. You didn’t want to spook him or cross any boundaries. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be writing a ‘thank you’ email on your behalf to Nezu-san and the Indeed associates,” you lied though you were planning on doing that anyway.

But Hawks shook his head. “Don’t bother. You did a good job today, Y/N.” His voice sounded so off. It was usually light and syrupy, but now it sounded deep and raspy. It did things to you.

“Did I do something wrong?” you blurted, confused at his strange behavior. The blonde quickly shook his head, turning slightly towards you. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his forearms and the feather tattoo on the inside of his left wrist. “No, no, of course not!” he protested. “I’m just…not feeling well.”

“Well, you know you can always go home,” you said. “We can hold down the fort here like we always do.” Finally, Hawks turned around and you saw how flushed he looked, his cheeks a rouge hue. He gave a smile that felt too intimate. Too adoring. “Thank you,” he sighed. “That’s so like you. Always so professional. Always so sweet.”

He took a step toward you and instinctively, you took a step back. “M-Mr. Takami?” you weakly asked. He continued to walk to you until you finally stood with your back to the wall, unable to escape him. His cologne clouded your senses, the scent of sweet and spicy invading your nostrils as he stopped in front of you.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice breathlessly and soft. “I…” He stopped, raising his hand to touch you. And then he stopped, dropping his hand and using it to cover his mouth instead. “I-I’m sorry,” he muffingly said. “You should go. I don’t wanna get you sick.”

Quickly, he reached beside you with his free hand and opened the door. The sound of chatter, coffee machines, and ringing phones smacked you back to reality. “You should go,” he said, his eyes willing you to do so. So you did and he shut the door in your face, leaving you feeling breathlessly and hot.

That was over a week ago. After the work day, Hawks headed home and sent out a staff meeting the next morning about being out because of a “spring cold”, but he’d be back soon. “Soon” hasn’t come yet. You haven’t heard anything from him in days!

It’s starting to worry you. A spring cold can’t last this long. Is it the flu? Is it something else? Plus, no one can seem to get in contact with him. What if something bad happened to him?

These worrying thoughts swim in your head all week every time you see Hawks’ empty office.

Finally, you reach your breaking point. You’re not going to call, text, or email him. You’re going to be a good assistant and instead, bring him something to let him know that you’re checking on him. Something to make him feel better. So on Friday, you leave work after your shift and stop by your favorite cafe to buy a bowl of their best chicken noodle soup.

You then drive to Hawks’ penthouse on the Upper East side of the city having kept his address to deliver things from work to his house if need be. When you park your car, you walk to the front door and click a button to buzz to his room. At first, nothing happens, so you press it again. Finally, on the third buzz, someone answers.

“Yeah?” a deep, raspy, growly voice barks. It startles you. “Uh…I’m sorry, do I have the wrong room?” you ask. “I’m looking for Keigo Takami.” The other end of the line pauses and you think that they left. “Y/N?” they ask, sounding shocked. “Why are you here?”

You blink at the speaker, shocked that this is your boss talking to you. Why does he sound like that? Is he that hoarse? “I came to give you some soup,” you say, suddenly shy. “I haven’t heard from you in days, so I bought this just to let up your spirits. That must be some cold.”

You wait for a response, but when he never gives it to you, you begin to feel stupid. This was a mistake. “Well, I’m gonna go now, but I’ll give it to your doorman so he can–”

“Don’t,” Hawks interrupts though he still sounds strained. “Come up.” You scowl in confusion, wondering if you misheard that, but then his doorman is meeting you at the front door to guide you to the elevator up to Hawks’ penthouse with the soup.

You take the elevator up, your heart pounding and your hands shaking slightly as they hold the soup. You almost explode from your nerves when you finally make it upstairs and the doors open, revealing Hawks’ beautiful, luxurious, and empty penthouse with an included gameroom, private gym, balcony, pool, mini bar, and expensive-looking kitchen. But he is nowhere to be found.

You walk further into the living room, your heels clicking across the hardwood floor. “Hawks?” you call. You don’t get any answer right away. The home is uncomfortably silent, making you feel paranoid. “Hawks!” you call again, louder this time. “Where are you?”

“Upstairs!” he rasps from the staircase leading to the upper floor. “Don’t come up here!” He sounds so pained. In such agony. You place the soup on the counter, confused and worried. What’s going on? Why does he sound like he’s in trouble?

Not listening at all to your boss’ warning, you slowly head up the steps, taking each tentative step further up in your heels. The hallway is dark when you finally make it upstairs, the only door open being the one at the end of the hallway. It is cracked and through it, you hear the sound of your boss’ soft pants and grunts of pain. Hawks’ bedroom.

Though something inside of you is telling you to turn around, you persevere and walk towards the bedroom. Slowly, you push the door open, revealing a dark masterbedroom with drawn curtains blocking out the outside world. “Hawks?” you tentatively question. “It’s just me. I just came to–”

“Go away!” he bellows from inside. “I told you not to come up here!” You jump, startled by the volume of his voice. He’s never yelled at you in such a way. You poke your head inside and gasp at the absolute mess of his bedroom: furniture askew; clothes and empty water bottles discarded on the floor; a rumbled mess of red sheets on the bed.

The smell in the air is thick with sweat and something else. Something tropical. Coconut oil? You look towards the king-sized bed where a heap sits hunched under the sheets which move up and down as it pants heavily. You thought it was just a pile of clothes at first, but no. There’s something under there.

“Hawks?” you question, your voice wavering in fear. The strange heap stirs, reacting to your voice. It breathes raggedly, almost as if it can’t get enough air in its lungs. “Hawks, what’s going on?” you demand. “Tell me. I want to help you.”

But he turns away, the sheets shifting as he does. “You can’t,” he whines. “You can’t.” Not being able to take how he sounds anymore, you storm over to the bed and snatch the sheets off of him. There, under the covers, you see your boss with your own two eyes. “H-Hawks?” you whisper. “Is that you?”

You almost can’t believe it. He has gotten much bigger in the past couple of days since you’ve last seen him, his muscles almost bulging. His pecs are ridiculously big, his nipples hard and perky, and veins protrude from his forearms and hands. Speaking of hands, they barely resemble human hands anymore. Red feathers sprout from his skin and long, sharp talons have grown out of his fingernails like knives.

When he looks at you, his face is flushed and his eyes are nothing more than red slits, those warm, golden irises gone. But all of those things aren’t even the most shocking to you. You are more shocked by the size of his wings. They have doubled in size, nearly taking up the entirety of the bed, and are red as the purest blood. His feathers shake and ruffle as if someone has run their fingers through them, disturbing their peace.

He looks shocked to see you and then embarrassed. “I didn’t want you comin’ up here,” he pants. “Didn’t want you seein’ me like…this.” He shifts and sits up so the sheet falls off of him, revealing his naked body to you. He is flushed and coated in sweat all over his tan skin and toned muscles. Your eyes trail down his abs and V-line to his cock which is way too obvious to look away from.

He is big and throbbing, the head a blush red and dripping in precum. One mouth-watering, angry vein trails from his shaft up to the head of his cock that twitches. Hawks winces, not looking like he is enjoying this at all. In fact, he looks like he’s in complete agony. You can’t be embarrassed or mortified by this when he looks so awful. “W-What happened to you?” you softly gasp.

He covers his throbbing dick with the sheet, but it’s no use. You can still see it protruding from underneath it, creating an obvious tent. “I’m in heat,” he sighs. “It’s what us mammals go through around this time. A spring thing.”

He wipes the sweat off of his forehead, his blonde hair soaked in it. “That’s why I’ve been hiding,” he explains. “I’ve been here tryna get through this, but I just…can’t!”

He grabs at his hair, running his hands through it. Now you understand it: his absence; the transformation; the smell of coconut oil in the air. You feel yourself blush, feeling hot in your clothes. All of this because he’s horny?

“How long does it last?” you curiously ask, but you’re not even sure you want to know. Hawks sighs, looking doomed. “Either a day or months depending on if my heat is satisfied.”

“Months?” you gasp. “Are you in pain?”

Hawks’ face screws up, triggering something in your core. “Terrible, baby,” he groans, wrapping a hand around his cock, his talons long enough to curl around the entire thing...and he’s at least 12 inches. “I can’t even sleep. I’ve been up for days, sweatin’ through my sheets and tryin’ to cum as many times as I can.” He releases himself and looks down at his hands, clenching them. “But my hands don’t do it for me anymore and I broke my fuckin’ toy.”

He nods at the fleshlight you didn’t even notice lying near his nightstand, completely broken in half. He completely tore that pussy out the frame, you realize in shock. What the fuck could he do to a real one? “O-Oh,” you exhale.

“Yeah,” he sighs, running his hand down his sweaty face. “I’m sorry about this, Y/N, really. I didn’t want anyone seein’ me like this.” He looks away from you, appearing so utterly humiliated and ashamed that it pains you. You find yourself not liking him like this: so utterly downtrodden and hopeless. “What can I do?” you blurt.

He faces you, his slitted eyes widening. “What?” he gasps. “What do you–”

“I wanna help you, Hawks,” you cut in, already taking off your cardigan to reveal your pretty, pink blouse underneath that you paired with a skirt. “What can I do to help you get through this?”

He watches you, looking completely stunned and mortified, but his cock also twitches at the sight of your outfit. “No, no, baby, no,” he protests. “Y-You can’t…you don’t need to do this.” But you stand firm on your decision, refusing to leave him like this. “I know I don’t need to,” you firmly respond. “I want to. Just look at you! I can’t let you go on like this.”

Hawks still doesn’t move, but his cock begins to leak pre for you, dripping down his thick thighs and onto the mattress. The sight is so lewd but so arousing, making your pussy throb indeciently in your panties. You shouldn’t be doing this. There are so many consequences you could face from this…but you also find that you don’t care right now. “Let me help you, Hawks,” you whisper. “Just tell me what I need to do to help you. I’m your assistant, after all.”

A fire explodes behind Hawks’ eyes, lit with lust and need. A low growl leaves his chest and you find that he has fangs in his mouth. The sight scares and thrills you. “You wanna help me?” he asks in his low, deep voice. “Then take off your clothes.”

You swallow hard, feeling like you just dry-swallowed a gigantic pill. You start with your blouse, your painted fingernails teasing the buttons before you begin to pop them open one by one. You expose your lacy bra to him, one of your favorites because of how it makes your breasts look: pretty, juicy, and appetizing with the lace trim of the cups adorning them.

You peel off the blouse and let it fall to your feet. Hawks barely notices it, too busy staring dead at your chest. He slowly begins to pump his cock with his hand, lewd, wet sounds of his pre and coconut oil acting as lubricants drifting to your ears. Under his laser-eyed gaze, you feel like an animal being watched behind a cage. A specimen. It makes you feel slightly uncomfortable, but also hot and bothered to see that you’re affecting him so deeply.

You then move to your skirt and begin to unzip it, but Hawks puts a hand out to stop you. “Slowly, mama,” he raggedly says. “Don’t rush this.” Biting your lip, you slowly drag the zipper down and then slide the skirt off of your waist, leaving you in just your matching bra and panties. You go to take off your stockings and heels, but he stops you. “Leave ‘em on,” he demands.

So you stand there, arms at your sides and trembling like a leaf. “Turn around,” he orders, his pink lips parted as he continues to fuck his hand nice and slow. You listen and turn, exposing your ass to him. “Ah, shit,” he hisses, soft pants leaving his lips. “I knew you had a nice ass.”

You bite your lip, feeling your pussy flutter and throb impatiently. “Sit on the bed and bend over for me,” he orders. “I’m not gonna touch you. I just wanna see you rub that pussy for me, okay?”

You turn around, staring down at your shoes. “Yes, sir,” you whisper and flush at your words. They just came out of you, as naturally as breathing.

Hawks shudders, affected by your reply. “Such a good girl,” he sighs dreamily. “I’ll definitely take that over just ‘Hawks’ right now. But ‘Keigo’ works too.” Your face grows hot with a blush, having never referred to him by his first name before. Not wanting to waste his time, you slowly get on the bed and face away from him, your feet tucked under your butt.

Then you bend over for him, your back arched. “Yes, that’s it,” he encourages, softly panting and the move bouncing slightly from his ministrations on himself. “Pull those panties to the side, baby. Let me see you.” Biting your lip so hard that you’re sure to draw blood, you pull the thin strip of cotton covering your sodden, wet, puffy pussy to the side and expose all of you to him.

Hawks shudderingly moans at the sight of the wet strand of your arousal connected from your pussy lips to your panties. “God, mama,” he groans. “You have the prettiest pussy. Look how wet you are!” He growls once more, sounding so much like an animal. “You like what you’re doin’ to me?” You can tell he’s started to stroke himself harder, faster, his pants and heavy breaths becoming more intense. “Keigo,” you softly whimper.

You’ve never been this horny before. Your pussy is about to slide off the bone with how wet it is.

“That’s right, say my name,” he groans. “Play with your pussy, baby. Don’t let me do this alone.”

So you do. You sneak your hand down your ass, teasing him before you begin to rub your cunt for him in time with his strokes. A weak moan leaves your lips as you rub your clit in tiny, firm circles, your ministrations impassioned by the sounds leaving Hawks’ lips. He sounds so desperate. So slutty as he pumps his cock, imagining that he’s doing so to your pretty, little pussy. “So fuckin’ cute,” he says, agonized at your beauty and sexiness. “How the fuck are you this adorable?”

You want to look back and see him, but you get the feeling that he doesn’t want to be watched, so you instead close your eyes and drift away at the sounds of his moans and his lubed cock fucking his hand, making the bed bounce slightly underneath you. You imagine that he’s fucking you like that, his big hands gripping your ass and talons digging into the fleshy part of your ass cheeks. You can almost feel his cock stretching you out, pumping you full again and again as he uses you, doing his best to not break you like he did his fleshlight.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “K-Keigo!” you whine. “Fuck, I’m about to cum!” Hawks groans at your warning, happy to hear this. “Uh-huh,” he pants. “Do it for me, baby. Cum all over those fingers for me.”

And you do. You rub and flick your clit until it can’t take any more stimulation and explodes all over your hand. Your sweet moans of release push Hawks over the edge. “Fuck!” he bellows, his voice bouncing off of the walls as he cums in his hand, shooting warm cum all over his thighs and stomach. Your moans and whines mix with one another, creating a symphony of pleasure as you both cum together.

When the high of your orgasms finally fades, you both sit there for a moment, panting and sitting in the reality of your situation. “I…I’m sorry,” Hawks awkwardly huffs.

You don’t answer, unsure of what to say until you turn around and find that he’s still hard. “Keigo!” you gasp. “Y-You’re still–”

“I know,” he sighs, frustration evident in his handsome face. “Like I said, my hands ain’t doin’ it for me at this point. I need more.”

His slitted eyes, red as crimson blood, narrow at you, a deeper meaning in his words. You gulp, weighing your options but only briefly. You realize you’re thinking more with your pussy than with your head, but the curiosity of feeling Hawks’ wings wrapped around you while he fucks you is too tempting.

“Keigo, it’s okay,” you softly purr, putting a hand on his thigh. He flinches as if your touch burns him. “We can do more if you need it.” You then dip your fingers between your thighs and come back with them dripping in your cum. His cock twitches at the sight, but he doesn’t have to imagine how you taste for too long.

You lean forward and put your fingers to his lips. “Use me,” you say, a plea in your voice. “I’m all yours.”

Right then, something in Hawks snaps the moment he wraps his lips around your fingers and greedily sucks your cum off of them. He is no longer entirely human, his animal instincts taking over. He snatches you up and places you in his lap, emitting a small gasp from you at being yanked up so forcefully. “Just tell me ‘no’ if you want me to stop,” he orders. “And tap my thigh three times if I got my cock in that mouth. Understand me?”

Unable to reply, you wordlessly nod. That’s enough for him. Immediately, he’s on you, pressing a rough yet passionate kiss to your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip and swirling his tongue with yours. His kiss is brutal yet hot; forceful yet careful as he wraps you up in his arms and soft wings. It’s the best kiss you’ve had in your life.

And the sex he gives you by far trumps all of the other bedroom adventures you’ve had. You’re so glad he gave you a non-verbal safety precaution because Hawks takes the “use” thing literally when he finally gets his dick down your throat. He is as big and thick as he looks, your fingers barely being able to wrap around his girty, throbbing shaft.

You have to cover his cock in copious amounts of spit and coconut oil just to make it easier to stroke him, Hawks’ crimson, lustful eyes and soft moans encouraging you. “That’s it, baby bird,” he growls, one clawed hand in your hair. “Take me nice and easy.” Though he allows you to slowly take his cock down your throat, it doesn’t do much to ease the stretch of your jaw.

Unfortunately for you, Hawks’ heat gets the best of him and his impatience rises, making your time to adjust to his size shorter. When he grabs your hair and begins to fuck your face, you have no choice but to take it. He shoves his cock so deep down your throat that your eyes burn with tears and embarrassing, wet gagging sounds leave your mouth as you gurgle around his cock that throbs and pulses in your mouth.

“Thaaat’s my girl,” Hawks grunts, staring down at you throating his dick. “You’re takin’ this dick like a champ, baby bird, y’know. You could make this a profession if workin’ as an assistant don’t work out.” He takes his cock out and taps it against your tongue, loving how slutty you look for him with your tongue hanging out and makeup a mess.

“Or you could add this to your duties of bein’ my little assistant,” he hums, smearing his cockhead across your plump lips. “You could fetch my coffee and take this dick over my desk every workday. How would that sound?” He doesn’t allow you to answer as he grabs you again and forces you down onto his cock, groaning at how amazing your wet tongue and soft mouth feel. “God!” he groans. “I hope your pussy is this fuckin’ tight.”

His curiosity gets the best of him. After a few minutes of fucking your throat like it’s a toy, he pulls out with a moan, giving you heart eyes at the image of your messy hair and sloppy mouth dripping in spit. He holds your face in his big hands, his talons gently caressing your cheeks. “On your back,” he orders. You must go too slow for him because he tosses you down onto your backside himself and quickly ducks between your thighs, his big, feathered hands parting them.

“K-Keigo,” you stammer, but that’s all you can get out before he’s cutting the waistband of your panties off with his teeth and sliding his big, fat, wet tongue all over your slit.

All words cease to exist as pleasure washes over you which only builds the more his tongue swirls against your clit and inside of you. Your eyes widen and your hands dig into the skin of his muscular back that flexes as he dips his head low to eat you out. His soft wings caress your skin as they wrap around you, making you feel like you’re being pampered from all ends.

Hawks knows how to run his mouth, but also knows how to work it. His tongue moves magically inside of you, slurping up your juices as his nose and soft lips bump against your clit. You grind your hips up into him, meeting his tongue thrusts while his talons dig into the fleshy parts of your ass.

You can’t keep quiet, too enveloped in the ecstasy you’re feeling. “God, yes, Keigo!” you whine, bucking your hips up. “That feels so fuckin’ good! Keep going, please, ooooh, shit!”

Hawks gladly takes all of those lovely sounds, moaning into your cunt. He is a rapid, ravenous animal, slurping up your pussy like he’s yearning for it. “So good,” he whines into your clit. “So fuckin’ good.”

Your orgasm comes rather quickly, that knot in your core threatening to snap as he continues to work his tongue in and out of you. “Fuck, Kei!” you sob. “I’m gonna fuckin’ cum! Please let me cum, sir please!”

“Mmm-hmm,” Keigo hums, sucking gently on your pussy lips. “Do it for me, baby bird. Cum all over my fucking face.” He goes back to eating you out, moving his tongue against that little spot up and inside of you that makes you see stars. “Do it,” he growls in his deep, gravelly voice. “Fuckin’ cum for me. Give it to me now!”

A scream erupts from you–”Oh, shit!”–as you explode all over Hawks’ tongue. He moans in release with you as he slurps and laps you up, drinking in all that give him while you buck and writhe under his hands. Even when the orgasm high fades, he doesn’t stop. He continues to eat you out even as your pussy and body twitches. “O-Okay, Hawks,” you stammer. “Please, ah, please stop. I-I can’t…oh, my God!”

Tears prick your eyes as the agonizing pleasure continues, swallowing you whole. His crimson eyes stare up into yours between your thighs, loving how desperate and pathetically horny you look as you writhe against his tongue. But as good as you taste, he needs to know how you feel. So he hikes himself up on top of you, his big body covering your smaller one, and his wings creating a curtain around you.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, baby,” he pants. “I need to fuck you now and when I do, I ain’t gonna be nice. I need to cum as many times as it takes to ease this heat and that could be hours. You sure you’re okay with that?” Despite his obvious need, he is holding back, his cock throbbing against your thigh.

Knowing that, you nod and press a kiss to his lips. “Yes, Keigo,” you purr. “I want this too.” You give him a smile, pretty and seductive. “So fuck me.”

The pro doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts by fucking you on your back, your knees tucked up into your chest. You’re happy for the lubricant and orgasm because it is a stretch. His cock stretches your pussy out in a way it didn’t do to your jaw, making your mouth go slack and your eyes widen. “Relax, mama,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your face while he rubs your clit. “You’re doin’ so well takin’ me.”

After a few minutes of adjusting and slow strokes, Hawks feels you relax around him and finally begins to pound you like he needs to. He fucks you into the mattress that shakes and bounces beneath you, making your tits bounce in time with his thrusts. Each pump of his thick cock sends sparks of pleasure throughout your body as your soft, spongy pussy walls stretch and mold into his shape.

“O-Oh, my God!” you cry, grasping his shoulders as he takes you straight to poundtown. “Fuck, Keigo, yes, baby! Fuck me just like that!”

The winged pro grips your thighs and pins them down to the bed, giving you a stretch that yoga couldn’t even do. “Just like that?” he teasingly asks, smirking down at you. “Look at you takin’ this dick like a champ, baby bird. Bet you couldn’t wait for your boss to fuck you, huh?”

You whine in response, earning a tongue shoved in your mouth as Hawks gives you a wet French kiss while he pounds into you. He nuzzles his nose into your neck next, covering himself in your scent and you in his.

You’re so deep in the pleasure that you don’t even realize that Hawks’ feathers, sharpened to the touch, cut off your bra until you feel the cool air on your nipples and then pleasure as he stimulates them with his feathers.

When he begins to get closer, his crimson eyes glow red and the black rimming his eyes grows sharper like a hawk’s. You feel scared yet aroused at the same time, your pussy clenching around his cock. “I’m gonna cum, baby,” he grunts. “Gonna fill you up. Want you to fuckin’ cum with me too!”

“Fuck, Hawks!” you whine, tossing your head back against the pillow. Your second orgasm erupts and sends you on a trip while Keigo fucks you like he’s trying to hit a home run. When he cums, he does so with an animalistic grunt and grips your hips so hard that they bruise. He tosses his blonde hair back, every muscle in his body tense from the pleasure. You gasp as he fills you up with his cum, feeling warmth flooding inside of you. It feels good to be full, you realize.

But even when the orgasm fades and he has successfully filled you up, Hawks looks down at you with an increased level of need and lust that shakes you. “I ain’t done with you yet,” he growls.

And he’s not. He fucks you in every single position imaginable. He fucks you doggy style, his cock pumping into you again and again while he yanks on your hair and dirty talks in your ear.

“You my little slut?” he pants, his hand grabbing and smacking your ass. “You love gettin’ fucked by me? You love this number 2 pro hero dick, don’t you, baby?” You can only whine in response, words and logical thoughts completely gone as he turns your pussy into mush.

He fucks you on your side, his big body spooning yours and red wings wrapped around you as his throbbing cock drives inside of you. In this position, it’s easier to rub your clit and tilt your head back to kiss him, the two of you sharing breath as you hotly pant and moan into each other’s mouths.

He fucks you with your head hanging off the bed and your leg pinned up to get a better angle at your G-spot and to drive himself deeper into you.

He fucks you in mating press, his feet on the bed as he mounts you and drives himself inside of you like he’s trying hard to breed you.

He fucks you in full nelson.

In prone bone, his hands massaging your ass.

While standing up, you bouncing like a cute little fuck bunny in his arms on his dick.

From the bottom while you ride him, both from the front and the back, his hands groping your bouncing tits and jiggling ass.

“Mine,” he growls to you in every position known to bed that he puts you in. “You’re fuckin’ mine, baby bird. Only mine.”

And in every single position, he makes you and himself cum. He seems to always know how to trigger your orgasm so you cum again and again. He then uses your tight walls to chase his orgasms, cumming inside of you and filling up over and over again. He makes you sweat out your hair and your makeup, making you look like the sexiest Goddess to him as you take his cock like it’s your job.

By the time he finally finishes, hours have passed and you are spent. Your body aches. You are wet with sweat and cum. Your pussy twitches and is sloppy with his and your cum mixed together, all of it dripping down your thighs and through the crack of your ass.

Hawks, finally back to his normal self, lies down next to you and snuggles you into his chest. “Thank you for doin’ that,” he sighs, pecking you on the forehead. “You did so, so well for me, honey. I hope a dinner date can make up for that workout.”

You only mewl tiredly in response, but you wrap your arms around him and snuggle into his chest. He chuckles, the sound pleasant to your ear pressed against his heart. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he sighs.

And then you sleep, satisfied and comfortable finally.

THE END.

#hawks x black reader #hawks x black!reader #hawks smut #keigo aka my husband #keigo takami x black reader #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #bnha smut #black writers #keigo takami #tw monsterfucking

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just-jordie-things · 8 months

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[part fourteen] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 4.6k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist

[part fourteen]: “The Beginning Of The End Of All Things” ___

The next morning, Megumi and Tsumiki are delightedly surprised to find (y/n) making them breakfast when they wake up. They’re smiling wide and both of them are hugging her while she flips pancakes over the stove. She laughs and teases them for their affection, even though she knows just as well as they do that it’s odd for her to have stayed through the night.

“You should stay more often!” Tsumiki says through a mouthful of cat face-shaped pancake.

“Yeah, if you keep making us breakfast” Megumi agrees with a shyer smile than his sister.

(y/n) just laughs them off and refuses to make them any promises, and they notice something’s different about her today. She’s in a better mood, dancing around as she pours batter into more shapes, including a lumpy bunny, a heart, and what was supposed to be a star, but fell apart when it came time to flip the cake over. She’s telling them about her assignment in Brazil, hyping up the parts that weren’t so interesting and dramatizing the parts that were thrilling to be even more so. Her smile feels genuine again, warm and comforting like they were used to. Neither one of them knows what caused this shift in her mood, but they don’t comment on it. They’re simply happy that things feel normal again.

Maybe even better than normal.

(y/n) even sticks around for breakfast, and spends most of her morning with them. They talk and joke around all through breakfast, the atmosphere nothing but light and cheerful.

Even the skies were sunny and clear of all clouds, it was as if the universe was treating them.

“Listen, I know it’s a Saturday, but I can’t stay all day,” (y/n) says while she cleans up the kitchen. Tsumiki lets out a whine of disappointment, and Megumi remains quiet. “I’m sorry, but I have important stuff to do back at school today”

“But it’s Saturday! School can’t happen on Saturday” Tsumiki argues, and (y/n) can’t help but chuckle at her frustration.

“You don’t think I want to go to school on a Saturday, do you?”

Tsumiki pouts, but doesn’t argue again.

“And anyways, I’ll be back first thing tomorrow. I can even make pancakes again,” She offers, which seems to brighten the kids’ moods in the slightest.

She hesitates before continuing, her eyes fixed on rinsing plates in the sink as she speaks carefully, trying to keep her tone casual.

“Although there is an important errand I’ll have to run tomorrow,”

She tries not to think about it, even as she says it, even though she knows they’ll press for more details.

“Hopefully it won’t take long. Then you’ll have me the rest of the day… we should do something fun” She adds the last part in hopes that it could serve as a distraction.

“What errand?” Megumi asks.

She should’ve known better. Nothing got past this kid.

“I just have to make a quick visit,” (y/n) shrugs her shoulders loosely. “Like I said, it shouldn't take long. But if you guys think of something fun to do, I’ll treat you. Think of it like an apology for me having to ditch you today”

Neither Tsumiki or Megumi ask any more questions, which (y/n) is relieved by.

She just wanted them to have an easy going morning. And selfishly, she wanted to spend a few more good hours with them. She didn’t want to think these could be the last, as the mere thought made her heart break. But she also didn’t want to take any chances and leave without feeling like she’d given them good lives, even in the short time she’d spent with them.

After tidying up the house a bit and making sure they had a few things to eat for lunch and dinner, and once she was sure that they were set for the day, she quickly ran out of reasons to stall, to stick around just a little longer.

She couldn’t stay for the day, she knew she needed to get back to Jujutsu Tech to train, to prepare for what was coming tomorrow. Still, her feet dragged as she made her way to the door.

Tsumiki and Megumi stood side by side while she stood before them, no parting words coming to mind, while they wondered why she didn’t just say goodbye.

“I’ll be at school, but you know you can still text me if you need anything, right?”

“Yeah” Tsumiki giggles, finding the question silly. She always reached out whenever she needed help with homework, or making something to eat.

“You can call, too,” (y/n) adds as an afterthought.

She turns to Megumi, noticing the cord around his neck that disappeared under his shirt, the stone hanging from it that was imbued with her cursed energy hidden under the blue tee shirt he wore.

Relief and despair make for a heavy feeling in her chest as she thinks about him wearing it every day. If she survives, he’ll always have her just a snap away to protect him. If she doesn’t… the tool’s power is rendered useless, and then who will he have?

(y/n) swallows the lump in her throat as she kneels down before them, her finger pointing at the hidden necklace.

“And if you need to use that-”

“I will” Megumi cuts her off before she could finish the speech that he could probably recite for her.

Her lips curl into a smile.

“Okay you little shits I gotta get to school before I get in trouble,” She says, reaching out to pet both their heads. “Be good, alright?”

“Bye (y/n)” Tsumiki leapt forward, throwing her arms around (y/n’s) neck before she could stand. Despite the sudden action, (y/n’s) quick to hug her back.

When the child pulls away, (y/n) turns to Megumi.

“You gonna hug me too, you little shit?” She teases.

Megumi blushes, flustering as he looks at the ground and hooks his hands behind his back.

“I hugged you yesterday” He grumbles, and (y/n) laughs, settling for messing up his hair again, knowing that would make him more irritated than a hug, anyways.

As always, Megumi groans and swats her hand away, trying to fix his ruined hair.

“Alright, be a brat about it,” She teases before standing. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow”

They bid her their final goodbye, and (y/n) leaves.

After closing the door she draws her curtain, and lingers for just a minute longer on the front step. No amount of stalling felt like enough to ease the anxious skip in her heartbeat. It already feels like she’s been here for ages, like every second dragged on for centuries. And yet now that it was time to go, she feels that urge to stand on the porch until she feels that urge to stand on the porch until she had to be forced off of the

When she’s finally ready to step off the property, she freezes in place, her eyes landing on two figures just across the street. Normally strangers passing by in the neighborhood didn’t make her blood run cold, but these weren’t your average strangers.

They were clad in traditional robes, which looked completely unsoiled, like they were brand new. Judging by the way they stood, staring straight ahead at her, she had a sinking feeling of who they were, and why they were here.

I don’t have any weapons, her mind quickly jumps to what her strategy would be. I’ll only have my cursed technique and strength to defend myself.

Before she could come up with what her plan was, her feet were moving, carrying her down the steps of the porch, and across the yard.

There are people around, she notes, glancing at a few walkers down the street, a man mowing his yard, a woman gardening. And if things get ugly, Megumi and Tsumiki are inside.

She’s never worried much about witnesses when it comes to acts of violence in public. Although the truth was people weren’t usually upset to have a girl with swords around when a literal monster was haunting the area. But this was different. Her opinions on the Zen’in Clan aside, those two were merely men, and if she approached them with cursed energy buzzing in her fists, she was going to make a scene. Perhaps if Megumi and Tsumiki weren’t inside she’d say fuck it and take the ill-intentioned strangers down. She tried to push the theoretical thoughts away, instead focusing on what she needed to do right now to get these men as far away from the Fushiguro house as possible.

She’s approached them now, standing a few feet away from them as her calculated glare slowly tracks between them both. They seemed to be young men, probably not much older than she was.

I could take them, she tells herself.

But instead she crosses her arms over her chest, and waits for them to explain themselves. She knew she didn’t owe them shit, and if it weren’t for their location and the risk of the kids seeing, (y/n) would have knocked them on their ass by now. So she taps her foot with impatience, and sizes them up white she waits for them to state their purpose.

The strangers in the kimonos turn their heads, sharing a look. They remained expressionless, but she assumed both were confused by her silent approach.

“If you don’t explain why you’re stalking my kids, I’ll have no choice but to assume you mean to do them harm,” (y/n) speaks up.

Her voice is shockingly even, although low in tone.

The strangers in kimonos look back at her, seemingly intrigued by what she had to say.

“So let me make this easy for you,” She says slowly, eyes flickering between the both of them. Her arms drop from her defensive position, one hand setting on her hip. “Do you mean to do them harm?”

Again, the strangers share a look, but this time there’s amusement on their features.

“You know why we’ve come,” One of them, the one with his hair neatly swept into a knot on the top of his head, speaks. “You know we’re here on behalf of the Zen’in Clan”

(y/n) holds his stare for a long moment, her features, and her entire body, unmoving.

“Yes”

Her answer is blunt, but she doesn’t have anything else to say to them.

If I kill them both now, I’ll have to leave immediately to go for the rest, she thinks to herself. It would only be a matter of time until the rest of the clan caught wind of what happened. And were these two really worth the trouble, anyways? THey looked to be her age, for all she knew, they were just Zen’in lackeys.

But either way, she knows what’s coming, and these two were far too close to the Fushiguro kids for her liking. So whatever their reasoning for being here now, if they had malicious intent, she would be left with no choice but to take them out.

“So you’re also aware that you have twenty four hours to deliver the son of Fushiguro Toji to the Zen’in Clan, before we’re sent back to collect him ourselves?” The other stranger, who’s dark hair is cut much shorter than his partner’s, spoke.

Now it was his turn to be on the receiving end of her icy glare, but just like his counterpart, he appears unphased by this.

“Yes” (y/n) repeats.

It’s silent for a moment, before the first man scoffs, and speaks again.

“You’re nothing but a child yourself,” He comments. “What business do you have staking your claim in children that aren’t yours?”

(y/n) tilts her head at him, plotting to herself for a moment, before she steps closer, enough to lower her voice to a mutter.

“Awful bold question for you to ask,” She says slowly, her brows lowering as her glare hardens. “Horridly foolish, of you and your clan, to assume that those children aren’t mine,”

She pauses, smirking to herself before shaking her head at both men. Despite her intent to keep things from escalating, her once cold blood was heating up under her skin, and she wasn’t sure how long she could maintain this professional act.

Oh, if she had her swords…

“You said so yourself, I have twenty four hours,” She repeats back to them. “And it wouldn’t exactly look good for the Zen’in Clan to pull some shady trick, hm? Or do you openly kidnap children now?”

“We’re not kidnapping anybody-” The short haired man leapt forward with a snarl, only to be stopped by his partner with an arm to his chest.

(y/n) doesn’t move an inch. Not even a flinch at the sudden movement. She tucks her hands into her pockets, feigning indifference to the act.

Although her mind had already leapt to six different ways she could counter the potential attack.

“Let Zen’in Naobito know that I’ll be seeing him this time tomorrow then,” She states calmly, and this time she isn’t faking her relaxed state.

Both strangers’ eyes widened, shocked to be handed an order by anyone other than a member of the Zen’in Clan- much less a message for their head. They seemed unsure as to whether or not they could agree to relay this message, but (y/n) sweetened the deal with her next words.

“You can also let him know that if I find anymore of you mindless insects creeping around here, I’ll be returning your heads to him, personally”

The men don’t seem particularly threatened by her words, but they do take them seriously, as they nod back at her in unison.

However, one of them smirks.

“If you find another one of us around here, it will be because master Zen’in has sent us for your head” He states proudly.

(y/n) tilts her head back at him, her expression unwavering as her eyes harden on him.

“I suppose I’ll look forward to it, then,” She muses, making the man frown in distaste. “Now leave. My message for your master is urgent, and I’d like you to treat it as such”

To her luck, they do leave the premises. She lingers in the area for a while, just to make sure they really had slunk away, but she’d already spent too much time stalling this morning, and she couldn’t allow too much more of her day to be eaten up.

When she’s certain there’s not another malicious presence near the Fushiguro home, she takes off, the gears in her head spinning as she walks back to Jujutsu Tech.

With only one day left to prepare for her meeting with the head of the Zen’in Clan, there was too much to do. But she didn’t make it this far, she didn’t keep secrets and tell lies and threaten one of the most prominent families in jujutsu society just to cower away now.

Besides, after seeing how weak the two spies they’d sent her way were, she had a leap in faith in her abilities to do whatever was necessary. She was a Semi-Grade One Sorcerer after all, and for someone her age that was no feat to laugh at.

Although, those two didn’t seem to be any older than she was. They may have still been in training. The Zen’in Clan didn’t make any half-assed decisions, so if they sent them, they did so for a reason.

To give her false confidence? She wondered, her pace quickening the longer she thought about it. To instigate her into doing something stupid, so they could get rid of her, the only obstacle in the way of what they want?

The swell of pride she’d felt earlier quickly began to deflate.

Only making a few quick pit stops on her way back to the school, she still got back in record time. However it was made clear quickly that it didn’t matter when she’d returned, because there was a very angry Shoko waiting for her at the front gates when she approached.

She should have seen this coming, but she’d been distracted by her own mind and her race to campus

The short haired sorcerer stood with her arms crossed, her white lab coat tightly wrapped in front of her uniform, and (y/n) doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a sour look on her face.

Not directed towards her, anyways.

“Where the fuck have you been!?” She shouted as soon as (y/n) was close enough to hear.

“I just got back from a trip to the convenience store,” (y/n) said, raising the plastic bag in her hands for proof. “I left this morning-”

“Bullshit!” Shoko threw her arms at her sides, her hands in fists. “Cut the bullshit already! I know you didn’t come back last night!”

(y/n) winced, worried and embarrassed for getting caught in a lie. Her heart leapt to her throat, and she had to swallow it back down. She tried to come up with something better to say, but being put on the spot was no help. All that was on her mind were the men that the Zen’in Clan had sent to her, and she didn’t have the energy to take on Shoko, too.

“I thought you were finally done with all the lies?” Shoko asks, sounding less angry and more defeated.

(y/n’s) shoulders drop in defeat. SHe’d rather Shoko be angry with her than be disappointed. Anger was a brief pain, like a smack to the face. It would hurt upon impact, but then it would disintegrate into nothing. Disappointment lingered, like a nag in your gut that something was wrong. It clung to a person like a curse manifested by one’s own depression. What’s worse is the way the emotion looks on Shoko now.

“You can’t just flake in the middle of the night and not come back, okay?” Shoko’s voice is shaky, and (y/n) takes a few more steps forward. “You can’t leave like him. You can’t”

The mention of Suguru makes the bitter memory of his retreating form flash in (y/n’s) mind, but she shakes her head and tries to brush it off because she has to.

“It’s not like that,” (y/n) sighs, dropping her bag to close more distance between them. “I promise, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but you have to believe me, I’m fine”

She reaches out to place a comforting hand on Shoko’s shoulder, but the girl shrugs it off, tears in her eyes as she takes a step back.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore, (y/n),” She admits, taking shallow breaths. “Why didn’t you tell Satoru the truth?”

(y/n’s) eyes dart to anywhere but Shoko’s, cursing herself for getting caught in another lie. Was she getting worse at this? When had she become so sloppy? When had her friends paid this close attention to her?

“Why did you run away after- after what happened?” Shoko asks another question before (y/n) could come up with an answer for this one. “That… that sucked. We needed you, (y/n). I needed you, and you just- you vanished. Why-”

“If I’d stuck around any longer, I was going to go after him,” (y/n) cuts her off, her eyes meeting Shoko’s again. “If I hadn’t left, I was going to kill him,”

Shoko’s eyes widened, and she’s finally quiet for a moment.

“And the truth, Shoko, is… is I didn’t want to do it. I couldn’t, but I… I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself,”

(y/n) pauses for a moment, her eyes still locked on Shoko, as every word she spoke was true.

“I could have stopped him, you know,” She admits. “Before he went on that mission where he… did what he did… we had a fight,”

Again, Shoko looks shocked by this new information, and although she wants to press for more information, her mind is processing it all too slowly for her to know what to say.

“And I ignored it,” (y/n) muttered, kicking herself as she finally processed aloud what had happened. “I was stupid. I thought he was going to retire, like Nanami. I never thought he would…” She trails off, not wanting to admit the cruel truth.

“(y/n)...” Shoko mumbled, her head shaking back and forth in a small motion. “You couldn’t have known”

“But I could have,” (y/n) said, picking up the bag she’d dropped. “I could have listened, I should have seen the signs, they were right there,”

Shoko bit down on her lip in an effort to keep it from quivering, but the truth was she hadn’t stopped crying since Suguru had left them with his harsh parting words. Finding that (y/n) hadn’t returned to campus in the meantime was only the cherry on top of her heartbreak.

“Don’t worry,” (y/n) spoke as she reached into her bag, shuffling around before producing a small box. “I won’t cause you pain like this ever again. You don’t have to worry about me anymore,”

Before Shoko could ask her what that meant, (y/n) pressed the box into her hands with a smile.

“Best friends don’t do that to each other, right?” She asked softly, still smiling.

Shoko looked down to inspect what had been given to her. A pack of cigarettes.

Not just any pack of cigarettes, a Russian brand that Shoko had never splurged on for herself, claiming they were too expensive just to go straight to her lungs. (y/n) always laughed and asked what the difference was, claiming they were going to kill them one day eventually either way. Shoko never had a decent answer.

Looking at the sleek black cardboard box now, she frowned, before turning to find her friend was already walking away, the plastic bag hanging from her wrist as her hands were tucked into her pockets.

Was this part of the apology?

Shoko wondered, puzzled as she stared at the random gift. Her fingers traced over it’s edges carefully as she tried to mentally pick apart everything that had just happened.

But why did it feel like an apology for something that hadn’t happened yet? ___

In the last eight months of her sneaking around, (y/n) tried to recall every lie she’d had to tell, no matter how huge. She wondered if she was able to count them all, if she could put a price on them, and value them at some unachievable goal for her to atone.

She thinks it would be like trying to race to the moon with nothing but a pair of kicks.

It doesn’t matter now, she thinks to herself as she looks down at the small paper bag of treats in her hands, tied off with a pink string that she fought the urge to tug on. No apology will amount to anything. And this time tomorrow, they’ll never see me again.

This thought wasn’t groundbreaking, she’d known for some time now that the end was nearing. Still, as the notion crossed her mind now, her throat began to sting with the white hot burn of tears.

It would be the end of everything, whether she succeeded or failed tomorrow didn’t matter. Her crimes against the Zen’in Clan had caught up to her, and the crimes she’d yet to commit would seal her fate. If she succeeded, she would be excommunicated, labeled a defect just as Geto Suguru had been, and if she was lucky she would spend the rest of her life running. If she failed, then she would die in vain, and everything she’d fought for, lied for, everything she’d ever done in the name of protecting Fushiguro Toji’s children, would be for nothing. Megumi would be sold back to his rightful owners, like the valuable piece of property they deemed him to be. Tsumiki would likely be tossed aside, put in the system if she was lucky.

The end of all things was near.

This would bring the end of her time at Jujutsu Tech, she realizes. She’d never see her own graduation. She’d never get to know if she would be promoted to a Grade One Sorcerer. She’d never know if she could truly master Hexing Eye.

With the thoughts of the big milestones she’d be abandoning, came the thoughts of all the little things she’d be losing, too.

Shoko, Satoru, their faces came to mind as she struggled to stop herself from clutching the bag in her hands too tight. She would never make things right with them. She was going to walk out of their lives without explanation. And when word got around of the terrible things she was going to do…

She closed her eyes and bit down on her lip, willing her emotions to lay dormant, to not get the best of her in this moment.

They would never forgive her.

She was no better than Suguru.

And she had to accept that reality.

Why now did her heart try to argue with her mind? Now that she’d made her decision, why now did her heart put up a fight?

Her eyelashes are sticky when she opens her eyes, staring at the door before her with a sinking feeling. She’d come here with a purpose, but since planting her feet at the door, she hadn’t found the strength to knock, choked up by her fear.

When this time comes tomorrow, she will be gone. This would be the last thing she does for the people she’s going to abandon, and then she was going to disappear completely.

You have to do it now, the morbid voice in her head screams at her. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never get another chance.

She swallows the lump in her throat, along with her pride, before she raises her fist to knock. Again, her arm freezes on it’s own accord, and it’s as though it’s under a spell, as she couldn’t will it to just knock. She’d been standing here for too long already, and she didn’t know how much more time she’d have.

Her teeth gnaw on her lip as she stares at the door with her mission on her mind. She’s too focused on trying to notice the flash in the hallway beside her.

“Did you need something?”

(y/n) jumps out of her skin upon hearing the voice, swiveling on her heels to find Gojo Satoru standing beside her. His brow furrows at her reaction, seeing as she was standing in front of his door with the clear intent of speaking to him, but he doesn’t comment on the strange behavior.

She’d been acting strange for the last few months now, he’s almost grown used to it. Almost. There was still a tug in his chest that longed to ask her what had brought on this change in her demeanor.

“You scared me” She finally spoke, although her words were mumbled.

Satoru tucks his hands in his pockets as his eyes study her. While the sour part of his heart wanted to tell her to leave, the remains of the softness it once held for her spoke louder. (y/n) hadn’t spoken to him since the incident, so seeing her at his door now, clearly working up the courage to knock, has him curious.

He has a million things he wants to say, mostly questions to interrogate her with, but he keeps his mouth shut and his expression blank. Maybe he didn’t want to turn her away, but he knows that she spent the night off campus, and the thought of where she could have been makes him sick to his stomach. A slight grimace curls on his lip out of disgust.

Looking at her now, Satoru doesn’t think he’s ever felt so much vexation, so much contempt for her. Until now, he didn’t think he possibly could. He’d finally decided to drop the subject of her sneaking around, only to find out she’d been sneaking around with a Zen’in?

Sure he would have been upset by hearing the truth sooner, but it wasn’t like it was a criminal offense. Just a stupid one. But the secrecy of it all is what killed him, deep down. All of the lies and the hiding, and for what?

For what? The question lingered in his mind the longer he looked at her. She looked… weak.

Her eyelashes hung lower than usual, as if the act of keeping her eyes open was enough to exhaust her. And judging by the dark half moons under her eyes, exhaustion had become familiar to her. It looked as though a strong enough gust of wind could knock her down, had she lost weight?

Just as that dreaded sense of worry began to consume him, she finally broke the heavy silence that had fallen over them.

“Do you have a sec?”

Satoru’s nodding, stepping forward to slide his door open. (y/n) watches as he swings his arm in a gesture for her to head in. She seems to hesitate, so he sighs.

“Come on,” He gestures to his room again.

(y/n) gnaws on her lip, still lingering at the doorway even once it had been opened for her. She supposed she should have just left the treats at his door and cowered away when she had the chance.

With a sink of her shoulders, she steps into his room. Satoru follows closely behind and makes sure to slide the door shut, before speaking again.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

___

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