#I can’t believe this took so long… a YEAR

[flickering-chandelier]

I Love You, It's Ruining My Life

Pairing: Azriel x Bestfriend! Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been best friends for years, and slowly Reader starts to fall for him. He eventually feels the same way, but after Reader overhears a conversation she wasn’t meant to, she has doubts about him.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, a little swearing

Work Count: 5.2k

You twisted around in front of the mirror, trying to look at the dress from every angle. “What do you think, Az?”

Your friend looked at you, his eyes trailing down your body, and wrinkled his nose. “No.”

“Really?” You faced the mirror again, cocking your head. “I think it’s pretty.”

“It cinches weirdly around your middle,” he said.

You studied yourself in the mirror again, realizing he was right. “Wow. See, this is why I bring you along. Who knew your spymaster focus would be so helpful for fashion.”

He laughed, throwing his head back against the couch he was sitting on, and you couldn’t help but smile. You always felt a twinge of pride whenever you could make the stoic shadowsinger laugh like that.

“So this one, then?” You asked, gesturing to the first dress you had tried on earlier. 

“That is the one,” he shot you a lopsided smile. “The poor fool won’t know what hit him.”

Later, you plopped down into the chair next to Azriel’s in the sitting room at the House, groaning. 

Azriel arched a brow in question. 

“You were right,” you sighed. “He was a fool.”

Az poured you some of the amber liquid he was drinking, handing the glass to you. “What kind of fool? Do I need to defend your honor?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

Laughing dryly, you said. “No, nothing like that. Just a lame date. I can’t believe I bought a new dress for that guy.”

He smiled sadly at you. “Hey, the right guy will go crazy for that dress.”

You winced, taking a sip of the drink. “I guess,” you grumbled.

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. “You know I won’t let you be all grumbly by yourself.” 

Smiling faintly, you rose from your seat and settled in his lap, resting your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping comfortingly around you. 

“When’s it gonna happen for us, Az? When do we get to find what Rhys and Feyre have?” You asked, quietly. 

He sighed, leaning his cheek into the top of your head. “I don’t know. But at least you and I are alone together.” 

You laughed, and he tightened his arms around you slightly, clearly pleased. You felt your sad heart mending slightly as your best friend in the world held you long into the night.

---

A few days later, you sighed, pushing your food around your plate at lunch in Velaris with Azriel.

Azriel watched you, those hazel eyes calculating. “You’re not still moping about that date, are you?”

“I’m not moping,” you scolded him. “And no, of course it’s not about the date. He is not worthy of my sighs.”

The side of his mouth curved into a smile. “So, what is it then?”

Shrugging noncommittally, you said, “Honestly, I don’t know. I just feel…bummed.”

That smile of his dropped, his mouth thinning into a line. “Are you done eating?”

You blinked, confused. “Yeah, I think so.”

He tossed money onto the table, nodding his head to the side, indicating it was time to go. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” You asked, rising to follow him.

“You’ll see,” he said, slinging his arm around your shoulders as you walked. 

It took several minutes before you knew what he was planning and you grinned up at him as you realized where he was leading you. 

He smiled, kissing the top of your head as you neared your favorite ice cream shop. 

Your heart swelled as Azriel ordered your favorite ice cream. You should have known. Your parents had always taken you here when you needed a pick-me-up, and Azriel had continued the tradition, knowing it always made you feel better, at least for a little bit.

Gazing up at the man who knew you so very well, your heart began to crack.

---

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you settled on the couch beside him, tucking you against his side as his whole family roamed around the River House. 

It had been Feyre’s idea to get everyone together for an evening, just to spend time in each other’s company. 

“How are you?” he said, eyes boring into yours. He had been extra watchful of you lately, since your mood had dimmed weeks ago. He couldn’t understand why this dark cloud had been following you around lately. It broke his heart that he couldn’t fix it.

“Good,” you murmured, smiling faintly at him. 

His brow furrowed, but before he could question you further, Cassian plopped down on the other side of you, grinning.

Cassian pulled your attention then, telling an animated story about how training had been going in the Illyrian mountains. 

Azriel wasn’t really listening, still studying you. You laughed at something that Cassian had said, the sound bright, bouncing off the walls, your smile lighting up your face. The tightness in Azriel’s chest eased a bit.

Feyre and Elain beckoned you into the kitchen then, and you followed, leaving Azriel and Cassian alone in the sitting room for the moment. 

Cassian nodded after you, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “What’s the deal with her?”

“I don’t know,” Azriel said, sighing. “She’s been… off lately.”

Cassian looked contemplative. “Have you ever thought about… you know…” he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“What, being with her? Romantically?” Azriel furrowed his brow.

“Yeah. I mean, you guys are cuddly enough.”

“Not like that, though,” Azriel said. “No, it’s never been like that between us.”

Cassian shrugged. “Okay. But, you never thought that you might be missing out?”

Azriel thought about it for a moment, what it would be like. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about her like that.”

“Maybe you should.”

Before Azriel could respond, Nesta stalked into the room, taking Cassian’s attention completely. 

---

It had been months since you had come home from that terrible date, since Azriel had held you that night, since your mind and your heart began to wonder.

Azriel had always been your friend. Though he was beautiful and amazing, you had never before thought about being anything other than his friend. Nothing between you had really changed at all in the last few months, and yet… 

It was Azriel’s face in your mind as you fell asleep. It was Azriel’s touches that you dreamed of, over and over again. It was Azriel, who knew you so well, who was always, always there for you, that occupied your mind day in and day out.

You knew he had sensed a shift in you. But you didn’t think he understood what that shift was. That you had, without even really realizing it, fallen in love with him. 

Cauldron, you were doomed. 

“Where did you just go?” Feyre said, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Nowhere,” you lied.

She narrowed her eyes at you, bouncing Nyx in her lap. 

“Okay, I actually really need to talk to somebody about this. But if I tell you, you can’t tell anybody, not even Rhys.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded in agreement. 

“I kinda have feelings for Azriel.”

Feyre bit her lip, trying to hide her surprise. “Since when?”

You shrugged. “It happened slowly. Little things started sticking out to me all of a sudden and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about him. And I don’t know what to do.”

“You could tell him how you feel,” Feyre offered, smiling softly.

You groaned. “But I don’t think he sees me that way. If I tell him, it could ruin our whole friendship.”

Feyre tilted her head, contemplating. “You think so? Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, he’s Az. I can’t imagine that he would ever abandon someone he loves for any reason.”

“I guess,” you said distantly. “But it would make things really awkward, at the very least.”

Feyre smiled. “Or, it could turn into something amazing.”

You scoffed. “With our luck in love? Unlikely.”

“Maybe nothing has worked out for you two so far because you’re supposed to be together.”

Your heart swelled at the thought, but you stomped down the hope. “Maybe,” you said, your mind wandering again. “Maybe.”

---

Your blood rushed in your ears, your body tense as you and Azriel sat together in the sitting room of the House the next evening. It physically hurt to be near him these days. Your body ached to be close to his.

“What’s up with you?” Azriel asked.

“Nothing, I just…” you trailed off, looking across the room at him, willing yourself to tell the truth. “I love you, Az.”

He smiled. “I love you, too.”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t bat an eye at you, at his friend he had loved platonically for so long. Your heart sank. 

It hurt to look at him now. You knew it couldn't be the same between you, not now that you had foolishly fallen for him. 

You took a sip of your drink, wishing it was stronger, and forced yourself through easy conversation with your best friend. 

---

“What’s wrong?” you asked him immediately upon seeing him weeks later, and Azriel couldn’t help but smile. You had always been able to sense the shift in his mood, even if things had felt… different between the two of you lately.

He sighed. “We’re unlucky in love, you and I.”

You stiffened, and he wondered if he had said something wrong, but continued. “You know, the whole Mor, Elain…thing. I’ve just been thinking about what you said that night ages ago. I just wonder when it’ll happen for us.”

Azriel’s eyes flicked to you, and you gulped, tense in a way he’d never seen when it was just the two of you. “What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly. “I’m sorry. That you’re feeling unlucky in love.”

He lifted a brow. “Are you okay?”

You nodded then stood up quickly, walking toward the door. Azriel stood, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling gently so you would turn back to face him. “Hey. Talk to me,” he said softly.

Your eyes swam with emotion, and you seemed to be pondering what to say. “I can’t talk to you about this,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.

“What do you mean?” Azriel tried to push down the hurt he felt. “We talk about everything.”

“Not this, Az,” you said sadly, before gently pulling your hand out of his grasp and disappearing down the hallway.

What the hell. 

Azriel spent nearly an hour contemplating what had just happened. Were you upset with him? Or were you just keeping something from him? If you were, why?

He ran over the last several weeks in his mind, all of his interactions with you. You had definitely been acting differently around him, sitting further away from him, not spending as much time with him one-on-one, but he assumed you would talk to him when you were ready. Evidently, you still were not ready. But, what could it possibly be that you couldn’t talk to him about it?

It was your relationships, well your lack of relationship with Mor and Elain that seemed to set this off. 

And then he remembered what Cassian had said weeks ago, that maybe he should consider you as a romantic partner. His brother was always smarter than most people gave him credit for. Did Cassian know something? Was he trying to tell Azriel?

His head spun. Did you have feelings for him?

It would actually explain a lot of your behavior for the past few weeks, especially if you thought that he didn’t feel the same way. 

Did he feel the same way?

He sat back in his chair. Why hadn’t he ever considered you before? You were beautiful, of course, and one of the very best people he had ever known. And you were his best friend, who knew him better than he knew himself, in many ways. Who he could talk to about anything. Who already loved him so much. 

Maybe he should be with you. 

He did love you, of course. So… maybe the two of you should give it a shot.

Before he could think it through, he went to your room, knocking gently. He had to know if he was right.

You answered the door in a thin night dress, your hair cascading down your shoulders. Gods, you were beautiful. What an idiot he'd been.

“Az?” You asked.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his. He gauged your reaction, waiting for you to tense, but you didn't. You melted into him, placing your hand on his chest and gazing up at him with big, beautiful eyes.

Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and you tilted your face up to meet him, longing written all over your face. His heart rate spiked as his lips finally met yours.

The kiss was slow, sweet, exploratory. A new dance between old friends. 

You moaned slightly, twining your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you.

He growled, pushing you back further into your bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.

You had a long night ahead of you.

---

It had been about a week since you and Azriel had stepped into a new form of your relationship.

It was funny, actually. Not that much had actually changed, except you were more comfortable around him now, like you had been before the last few weeks had complicated things. The two of you spent so much time together one on one before, the only difference now was all the kissing and the bedroom activities. And how many times you would tell him that you loved him, your eyes shining with that love.

He was starting to feel like he hadn't thought it all the way through. He loved you. Of course he did. But, he was worried that your love for him was deeper. And he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you.

“Where'd your mind go, Az?” Cassian asked, and Rhysand chuckled.

“He's thinking about his new girlfriend,” Rhys grinned.

Azriel’s jaw tightened. “I'm worried,” he admitted.

“About?” Cassian asked, leaning forward, his full attention on Azriel.

“I think her feelings are deeper than mine. I'm starting to worry that I may have…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit it.

“Settled?” Rhys offered.

Azriel winced, but nodded. “Maybe.”

“What, you don't love her?” Cassian asked.

“I do. Of course I love her.”

“Well, there you go,” Cassian said, waving a hand dismissively. “I think you're overthinking this.”

“Maybe just give it time,” Rhysand said contemplatively. “You know how she is. She feels things very deeply. You might catch up to her faster than you think.”

“Maybe. I hope so,” Azriel said, his mind wandering away again, back to you. Back to the love that shone in your eyes when you looked at him.

He would have to be careful. He would not break your heart. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

---

Years later, snuggled up to Azriel, watching children screaming and running around the River House the night before Winter Solstice, you couldn’t imagine being happier. 

Azriel and you had been talking about trying for children soon. Your heart swelled as you watched Cassian’s and Rhysand’s children grow up together, picturing your own children growing up in all this love, with cousins and aunts and uncles who would love them so much.

You smiled and Azriel kissed your temple. “I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your skin. 

“You do not,” you smiled.

“I do,” he said, ducking his head to whisper in your ear. “You wanna try for a baby tonight?” His breath tickled your ear, his voice dipping suggestively. 

You laughed, playfully shoving him away, and he grinned. “Tonight? The one night a year we sleep under the same roof as our entire family? Absolutely not.” 

He pulled you into his lap, kissing you sweetly. “Tomorrow then?” he whispered. 

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with love. “We’ll see,” you teased. 

Elain called you into the kitchen then, and you went to join her, shooting a wink at Az over your shoulder as you went. He grinned.

Your family was scattered all over the house, leaving Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel alone in the living room next to the kitchen with some of the children.

You could hear them laughing together as you helped Elain prep some of the food for the following morning. 

Your ears perked up when you heard your name and Elain shot you a curious look, clearly eavesdropping along with you.

“Remember when you two first got together?” Rhysand asked, likely to Azriel.

“Yes,” Az chuckled softly. “We’ve come a long way since then.”

“I can’t believe you were ever unsure about her,” Cassian said. “That you were worried you had settled.”

Shock jolted through your entire body, your blood pounding in your ears. You nearly dropped the plate that you were holding.

“I was a fool,” Azriel said, and you could picture him shaking his head slightly. “I can’t imagine life without her. I can’t believe I lasted so long just being her friend.”

“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Rhysand teased. 

“Oh, like you’re not the same with Feyre,” Azriel shot back, and all three brothers erupted into laughter. 

You looked at Elain finally, her expression solemn, like she could see right through to your soul, how broken you felt. 

Without a word, you left the kitchen, going up to the guest room that you and Azriel occupied when you stayed with Feyre and Rhysand. 

Azriel had settled for you. He was sad that night that he first kissed you, sad about not getting a shot with Mor or Elain, so he had gone to the one person he knew would never deny him. 

All this time, all these years, he had just been settling with you because he didn’t want to be alone. You felt sick.

You had fallen in love with him, and to him you were just there. Ready for the taking. That’s why he chose you. 

Your stomach lurched, and you scrambled to the bathroom, spilling your guts, hot tears streaming down your face, sobs shaking your whole body.

---

Azriel frowned sometime later, wondering why you hadn’t come back yet. He wandered away from his brothers, finding Elain alone in the kitchen. She frowned at him as he entered, looking angrier than he had ever seen her. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Why don’t you go ask your wife?”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Where is she?”

“She went upstairs a while ago,” Elain said curtly, turning back to her pastries. 

Azriel’s heart pounded. What had happened to make Elain angry at him? Why had you gone upstairs without saying goodnight to anyone? 

He rushed up to the room, confused when he didn’t see you anywhere, until he heard you sniffling in the washroom. His heart lurched, panic setting in as he swung the door open, finding you lying on the floor, hugging your legs to your chest, facing away from him. 

He whispered your name, his anxiety increasing. When you didn’t answer, he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly, gently setting your head into his lap. He saw your tear stained cheeks, your red eyes, and the breath was sucked right out of his lungs.

“What happened, love? What is it?” he asked, trying to sound calm.

You refused to look at him, staring ahead blankly. 

He had never seen you like this. “Honey, you’re scaring me, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said, his voice breaking. 

Finally, you sat up and walked back into the bedroom, still not looking at him. As you did, you mumbled, “you settled.”

“What?” he asked, following you into the bedroom. 

You slid under the covers, facing away from him. “You settled with me. You didn’t want to be alone, so you kissed me that night. And you settled with me.”

“I didn’t,” he said, quietly. “I did not settle. I love you. So much.”

You buried yourself further into the covers, hiding yourself from him. His heart ached. “All this time,” you whispered. “All this time. You must have been just waiting for Mor or Elain to change their minds, huh?”

“No,” he said, his voice coming out quiet and crackly. He rounded the bed, willing you to look at him. He settled on his knees, looking into your eyes, cupping your cheek with a scarred hand. “No. It was never like that. It was never about them. I love you, I always have,” he said, willing you to believe him, to feel that he meant it. 

A tear slid down your cheek. His heart broke further as he wiped it away gently with his thumb. “That’s not what Cassian said,” you whispered.

Azriel sighed, his eyes pleading. “I was worried. When we first started dating, I was worried that your feelings were deeper than mine. You always feel things so deeply, my love, and that’s one of the things that I love the most about you. I was scared that I wasn’t at the same level that you were, and you would get hurt because of it.”

“Looks like I have,” you whispered. 

“But it’s not like that now, it hasn’t been like that for years. I’ve known for so long that you are the only person in the world that I could ever want. Please,” Azriel whispered. “Please believe that I am so in love with you. It was one stupid conversation ages ago, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, but you have to believe me. You are the love of my life.”

“I don’t know how to believe you right now,” you said quietly, your voice breaking. 

Azriel’s heart broke completely. Your face was completely blank in a way he had never seen before. “What can I do?” 

“I don’t know, Az. I need -- I need space.”

He gulped, but nodded, rising to his feet slowly “Okay. I’ll be downstairs, if you need me.”

You didn’t respond. He willed his legs to move, to leave you behind, broken, in the bed you were supposed to share.

Cassian and Rhys were the only people left downstairs by the time he made it back down, drinking and laughing together. 

One look at their brother’s face, and they went silent.

“I fucked up,” Azriel said, taking the glass from Cassian’s hand and shooting the amber liquid back in one gulp.

Cassian handed Azriel the whole bottle, who would have laughed, if he hadn’t ripped his own heart to shreds that night.

He took a swig before saying quietly, “she heard our conversation. She thinks I settled with her.”

“Shit,” Cassian said, his face falling. 

“What did you tell her?” Rhys asked, his expression solemn too.

“The truth. I was worried that in the beginning that she loved me more than I loved her, but now… Gods, I’m so in love with her. But she said she can’t trust me anymore,” he said, a tear running down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.

His brothers were silent for a moment, thinking. 

After a moment, Cassian said, “Yeah, I don’t know how you fix this, Az.”

Azriel laughed humorlessly, taking another sip from the bottle. “Thanks.”

“She might just need some time,” Rhysand said. 

“You didn’t see her,” Azriel said, his voice breaking again. “She was…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I’ve never seen her like that. She’s wrecked. Because of me.” 

His brothers stayed up with him for a long time, trying to console him, but he eventually sent them away to their happy mates who still loved them. 

He laid on the couch, his wings drooping on the floor, his heart hurting. He hadn’t spent a night away from you since you had gotten together unless he was on a mission. This felt fundamentally wrong.

Eventually, he got up, wandering through the quiet house. He made his way into the study, digging out some paper. He had to fix this. He needed you to understand. 

---

You’d barely slept at all, and winced when the sun started lightly filtering into the room that shouldn’t be so empty. 

You didn’t know how to feel, what to think. You knew Azriel loved you. But was it enough? Was it the same, all-consuming love that you felt for him? 

How could you ever be sure?

After just one night, you missed the heat of his body against yours, hated rolling over to see the other side of the bed empty. 

Cauldron, you had been talking about children less than 12 hours ago, and now…

You shoved the thought away, your eyes still burning from crying all night. You refused to start up again. 

What a Winter Solstice this would turn out to be. Maybe you should just go home.

Alone, in the apartment that you had turned into a home with Azriel. Your bottom lip trembled, and you bit it, hard. You were strong, you would survive this. 

Whatever this ended up being.

Your mind was still spinning and you hadn’t yet gotten out of bed when there was a tentative knock on your door. 

“What?” you said, quietly, your voice not sounding like your own.

Azriel opened the door slowly, studying you as he lingered in the doorway. He looked awful, bags under his eyes, his clothes rumpled, his hair a mess, like he had run his hand through it over and over again. 

“Hey,” he said quietly. 

“Hi,” you replied timidly.

His face fell and you knew why. You had never sounded like that, not with him. 

He took a cautious step into the room, watching you closely. “I made something. For when you're ready,” he said, placing a stack of papers on the bedside table. 

You remained silent, not sure what to say. He swallowed, and turned to leave, but he stopped in the doorway, turning back to you. “I do love you. So much.”

His expression was pained, and you could tell he wanted to say more, but he just looked at you sadly before disappearing behind the door he closed behind him. 

It wasn’t until after you took a long bath that you had the courage to look at the papers he had left for you. You sat on the bed, pulling them into your lap, surprised at how many pages there were. 

On the top, in Azriel’s handwriting it said, “To My Dearest Love.”

Despite everything, you couldn’t stop the swell in your chest, the love that you felt for him. 

You were shocked as you read through page after page. He had written your story, the story of your love from his perspective, every date you had gone on, every Winter Solstice, every milestone. He detailed his thoughts as he went through each of those moments, all the things he loved about you, when he noticed new little things about you, even after being friends for so long. 

Tears were streaming down your face by the time you got to the end, where it read: 

You, my love, are everything. Everything. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you. 

I’m sorry that I was a fool. I’ll always be sorry that I hurt you. 

Whatever you decide, whatever you want going forward, I just hope that you’ll know how deeply I love you. 

---

Azriel had gone to the annual snowball fight with his brothers, only for a distraction. But his heart wasn’t in it, and after about ten minutes, his brothers had deemed his snowball game so pathetic that they called it off and all went inside to the cabin to drink. 

He knew he was being tragic company, so Azriel went back to the River House on his own, prepared to find a quiet corner to sulk in by himself. He hoped you had read what he stayed up all night writing, at least. Even if it didn’t change anything… 

He didn’t let himself dwell on what could happen. He didn’t know what he would do if you left him. 

He nearly fell over when he noticed that you were sitting in the living room that he had used his shadows to winnow into. 

You looked surprised too, but not unhappy. Relief flooded through him. 

“Hi,” you said, quietly. 

“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy. 

You stood up, walking toward him slowly, stopping a few steps from him. He longed to hold you, to make it all better, but he stayed where he was.

“I read it,” you whispered. 

He could only nod, his heart in his throat. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, and his heart shattered, terror flooding through him before you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. 

He hugged you back instantly, holding you to him with crushing force. 

“I don’t want to be mad at you anymore,” you said into his chest. “I love you.”

Azriel felt like he was going to fall over, the only thing that was keeping him standing was you. “I love you,” he said, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I get it now. What you wrote -- it helped me understand. And it was beautiful.”

“I’m still sorry I hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking.

You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. “It’s okay, Az. I’m okay.”

Azriel took your face in his hands gently, kissing you like his life depended on it. He felt like it did. 

You let him kiss you for ages, until the two of you realized that you were no longer alone. Azriel looked up to see that his brothers had winnowed in and were now staring at the two of you. 

“Oh, thank the Mother,” Cassian said, bracing his hands on his knees dramatically before coming up and hugging you, lifting you into the air, while Rhys laughed behind him. “You guys really had me worried.”

“I take it you worked it all out?” Rhysand asked, kissing your cheek after Cassian set you back on the ground. 

“Yeah, we’re okay now,” you said, laughing at them.

Rhysand and Cassian did look extremely relieved, which made Azriel’s heart swell. He would always be thankful for his brothers. 

---

After a surprisingly successful Winter Solstice, you and Azriel made your way back home, now cuddling together in your bed, holding each other tightly. 

Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be so thankful for you. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You snuggled closer into him. “We’re both lucky.”

Azriel laughed. “Speaking of getting lucky… you want to try for that baby now?”

You gawked at him, incredulously. “What, too soon?” he asked, smirking.

“Males are ridiculous,” you scolded him. 

After a beat, Azriel risked it. “I didn’t hear a no…”

You laughed, pulling him into a kiss. “You’re so stupid.”

Azriel grinned. “Oh, I know.”

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch @batboyrhyrhy @1-s1mp-t00-much

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[onsomenewsht]

Helpless to the bass and faded light

About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking

》 Leah Williamson x Reader

》 words count: +1k

》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said

You don’t like football.

It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.

Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.

Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.

You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.

The things you do to make your parents proud.

How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.

“Pretty please, just this one”

“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.

You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.

“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.

The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.

Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.

“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”

She can.

“It’s a really important game, my love”

“For who?”

“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.

“I barely bear you playing”

“You love watching me play”

“I love you, period”

Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.

It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.

What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.

The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.

When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.

~

You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.

The things you do to make your lover happy.

“You know I love you, right?”

“You better never forget this”, you quip back.

The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.

She doesn’t need to know though, that you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.

“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”

Nice try, you will not.

“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”

“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.

Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, of its progress.

Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.

They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.

You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.

The one thing you all have in common.

“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”

Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.

“He sounds like an incredible father”

“Football obsession aside, he was good”

When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.

~

The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.

Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.

The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.

You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.

“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.

Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.

When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.

At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.

Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.

You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.

fine.

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #lw6 #woso #here we are #short and sweet #i hope you enjoy it

[ronintales]

ೃ₊ 🌾 ❝ So When I Die ❞ ╰►, Gojo Satoru

𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 | following gojo satoru’s death, his ex wife is in charge of taking care of his funeral service and everything else that comes with it.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 | 4,676 words

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | character death, possible spoilers, funeral, angst, and not proofread ;p

 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | I did NAWT want this to be my first work on here but due to certain circumstances…. AHEM his DEATH!!!! I felt it was necessary because laik… grief LOL. I wrote this a while back tho. Enjoy.

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ♡ ༘° 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓, gojo satoru …

Your ex-husband is dead, and in his line of work, yes, you know that he has a higher risk of dying than the average person, but still, death never comes expected, does it? Even if he always says—oh wait… used to, you suppose, say that he was crazy strong and no one could ever take him down. Well, he was wrong in the end like a bunch of other things. Like how well he took care of you, how he’d give you six kids, how—you won’t ramble, noting he’s dead now and there’s no point, but also because it’s quite rude of you to talk down on someone who is dead and can’t defend themselves. Whatever.

You just… don’t expect it. Yes, you understood he was hard headed and insanely cocky, but in a way… you always believed that he would always come home alive and, even if he did get hurt, he would be okay eventually as he heals. You don’t forget it, he’s only human, you know because of the many mistakes he’s made, but still… he’s… he’s gone?

You hesitated when you heard that. Gojo Satoru, the so-called love of your life from two years ago, is dead? Impossible, you think. Gojo Satoru found death embarrassing, with all the things he said. He said that he would be okay. He was always okay. What are you supposed to say to that?

When you get the call, you wonder why you, of all the people in his life, were the one they called to inform about his status. Why did you have to go to his place and clean out all his things? Take all his belongings with you? At first, your instinct was to say “throw it all away,” because what does Gojo Satoru mean to you now? You’re not his wife! He neglected you for years and filled your days and nights with sorrows. He broke your heart. But still, he didn’t mean nothing to you at the same time.

Those precious years of being his acquaintance in middle school. When you had shorter hair and he didn’t know much about you other than you were in his class and he had bought you cute white socks for your class gift exchange on Christmas that year. The long years that Gojo Satoru pined for you after you both attended the same high school. The hard and dark times he went through losing Suguru and shutting you out, though he loved you for so long. When you turned twenty, and Satoru had gotten better, to the point where he felt he was ready to move on and continue with his pursuit for you. When you turned twenty-three, and got married to him on a spur. When you moved in and shared a bed, until the marriage got cold and most nights you spent alone.

You couldn’t say for the past fourteen years, Gojo Satoru was nothing at all to you. The news was shocking, and knowing he was dead… did you have to be careful about how you felt about him, or how you thought of him? Well, now that he is dead, should you be so ruthless and hostile toward the man who broke your heart? You don’t know, so naturally, and it really just slips out, you agree to take care of the process of his passing.

For the most part, you’re calm. You don’t actually know how to feel, and you don’t know how to be. You’re not his wife, you have no obligations to take care of him, or anything that he cared about. Yet, you’re here. In his lonely apartment that doesn’t even smell like him. He probably never even spent much time in this place, even so, he still had a lot of belongings. Pictures of you in frames surprisingly. He did take them all when you got divorced and he moved out of the house, you just didn’t expect that he’d put them up on display. He probably didn’t get many visitors to question him about the lady in his pictures. You were sure that would get annoying.

Anyway, you don’t know if you’re supposed to cry or even feel sad. You don’t know if it’s strange to feel that way or not. You can’t quite make out how you feel, being surrounded by Gojo Satoru’s personality and things. You don’t think too much about the things inside the apartment because you don’t want to be too reminded of what you used to be. What you felt about the man once upon a time. If there was still love in your heart for him.

Gojo Satoru wasn’t a slob, but he wasn’t clean either by any means. Given he probably didn’t stay here much, it made sense that you didn’t need to clean a whole lot of the apartment. You get there and you take it all in. Satoru’s little apartment, because he didn’t want to pay for such a luxurious place he wouldn’t even stay in. Maybe that kind of place made him feel more alone too. Thoughts you should not be thinking start to trickle into your brain, but you stop yourself. You shouldn’t feel bad for leaving, nor should you want to go back. You made a decision to leave and you should honor it. It was the right thing to do for yourself (hopefully).

Do you even want his things? No, not really. But you have a keep, donate, and a throw away bin anyway. Most of it keeps going to the keep bin and donation box. Somehow the feeling of someone else getting Gojo Satoru’s things is unsettling to you, but it’s even worse to think that all these things will just go to a landfill where things that were once valued are forgotten and it’s all going to be considered “trash.” Maybe that’s because you know why every item is there and the story behind that certain mug or decor piece. You don’t know it, but you’re trying your best not to care.

You sigh, the thought that this is all so strange, bothering and pestering you like an annoying fly. You tell yourself you know that already, so stop thinking about it. Maybe you’re in denial that Gojo Satoru is actually gone. You can feel him. He’s still there, you know it. That or you’re just surrounded by his belongings and that’s why his presence is here.

In your hand, you hold a big black garbage bag as you make your way to his bedroom to clear out his closet. This is a room of his that you haven’t been to, strange right? You wondered if another woman spent time here. Jealous much? You’re supposed to be clearing out your ex-husband’s apartment, not pondering about what he was up to after you two had split. The man is dead for one, what are you going to do about it? Confront his dead body? You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that, so that thought is one you shake off and ignore too.

You sigh because you’re tired from cleaning all day and clearing his things out and you’re probably only a quarter’s way done with the place. It’s not even that big, it’s just been uncomfortably hard for you to bring yourself here with your mixed and strange feelings about this whole situation. Isn’t there anyone else who cares about Gojo Satoru? How come you’re stepping up to the plate when this is how you feel—confused and unsure? What are you even going to do for the funeral? You took the task up because Gojo Satoru would probably turn in his grave knowing the higher ups organized his funeral. So while it is strange for you to do all of this, you’ve rationalized the lot of this situation that you put yourself in. Once upon a time, he loved you right? So surely he would prefer you over—you’re so silly, thinking all these things when Gojo Satoru is your dead ex-husband.

You plop on the bed with a small groan as you turn over. This is a bit inappropriate, to be laying on your ex husband’s unmade bed. It’s left in the state that it was the last time he woke up. That’s a little precious you think, freely, not even denying it. Are you ruining this precious thing here? Well, in all honesty, you’re kind of cherishing it, because this is a small piece of Satoru that is really still here in the present times. He always liked soft things and this blanket is soft. The sheets still smell like your ex-husband. The light musk of his skin and his soap is there. The thought of this bed being his is comfortable enough. Like you miss his warmth and touch, you curl up on the mattress, hugging yourself to the scent of him surrounding, and you can almost imagine that he’s holding you right now, like he used to. His detergent is faintly there too, well actually, it’s the same as yours. He asked when you two had split and he was settling into his own place all the household items you used. You supposed that it was all he knew.

You offered to go shop for household things with him and it was probably the last time you two had exchanged any kind of affection. You let him put his hand on your thigh as he drove you two to the supermarket. He let you link your arm with his, sides flush together like you two didn’t just get divorced. It was a silent message of “I miss you,” because it was and—quite frankly, still is—hard to get over someone you loved for so long. Even if he left the marriage long before you did, emotionally and physically. This was something you wanted while you married, for Satoru to present, and in your arms. For him to show you that he cared and loved you. You were even a little upset that was the only time he was doing all of that for you, but you chose not to ruin the moment for the both of you.

Funny how all these memories and things between the two of you are flooding in constantly. It makes you feel kind of sick. Nauseous and unable to breathe. You open your eyes in realization of what you’re doing right now. You sit up immediately, flustered and embarrassed as if Satoru would open the door right now and have that annoying smug grin on his face with his arms crossed, just to say as he leans on the door frame, “I knew you missed me.” Following with your name because he liked your name the best. He always said your name was pretty and he wouldn’t give you a pet name because nothing will ever be as great as calling you by your name. A nice little reminder that Satoru loved your name makes you smile a bit. Weird how all of these just keep piling up. One thought triggers another and it almost makes you itch and feel bad for the way things ended between the two of you. You almost have regrets about—

Whatever, you have a deadline to clean this place up you remind yourself. You spread your palms out on the sheets once more, feeling every thread that Satoru once laid his body on. You should take these for your bed, you think. They’re not so bad, just a plain white sheet, but it reminds you of Satoru’s hair and it would be waste.You lift yourself from the bed and open his closet, not even noticing how you keep having to make excuses for yourself to keep some of his things.

Already feeling overwhelmed because you keep holding back, opening the closet makes you feel like you’re cracking. You let out a suppressed sound. You can’t even register what it sounds like. A squeak or something? But looking at all his clothes almost makes everything so real for you. All his uniform? All his coats and sweaters? Ah, the one from high school. And then you can see all the ones you bought him. Damn, does that really test your strength.

Lined up neatly and nicely put away, it’s almost a shame to you to give these away. Your hand shakes as you hesitantly reach for one of his favorite button ups. Your skin meets the soft fabric and you only lightly touch it because you don’t want to wrinkle it. You remember when you used to iron Satoru’s clothes early in the morning before he woke up. Even until the end of your marriage, you still ironed them.

You look up, reaching for his work uniform. This is what he wore most often, you know that. So you let yourself crumble. Carefully taking off the hanger and sitting on his bed as you hold the shirt close to you. You bring it to your nose, just to smell it. You wish it smelled like Satoru more, but even so, it makes you break down.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you take another sniff. The thought that Satoru really isn’t here anymore makes your heartbreak. It comes crashing down on you. You really miss him, and you regret that you didn’t spend as much time as you would have liked to with him. You wish you could have had the courage to tell him how much you still cared and loved him. Yes, it might not have been the same kind of love you had for him before, but you did still love him.

You let out a little sob. In frustration and despair, tears flow out as you hold his clothes close to you. The walls of your bruised heart collapses as you hold his clothes so tight as if he was still in them. Well, you really do wish he was. You’re desperate to feel him in your arms physically. Just a moment with him so you could say your last sentiments. Just a moment to see him again. Just a moment to love him.

You’re helpless as your tears flow endlessly onto his shirt. You feel silly, but you just can’t stop. You really miss Satoru, and you have been for so many months now. You stroke the shirt as you would his body, wallowing in the grief you’re supposed to feel, even if the dead man is your ex-husband. You spent so many years loving him, how could you just not feel anything to hear news of his death? How could you not feel any regret or remorse for how messy you left things with him? There’s so many things you want to say to him, and it kills you to know you will never get to say any of it to him.

You wonder if Satoru was still around, would he wrap his arms around you and tell you not to cry? Would he kiss your temple like he always did when you were down? You wish he would just do all of it. You wish you two could have tried harder. Your love for him never burned out, you know that much. It’s the reason why you’re here, alone in his room crying as you hold his clothes dearly to you. And even if you hate to say it, even if you don’t want to admit it, Satoru loved you until the very end too.

“I’m still in love with you y’know…”

“Shut up,” You mutter as you slide the eggs off the pan for the hungry man at the table.

It was the dead hours of the night when he returned from a mission, knocking on your door, telling you that he was hungry and needed a place to crash.You slammed the door on him of course, but he wedged his foot in the gap of the door (no, it didn’t hurt, he’s got magical powers that prevent him from actually getting hurt like damn maniac) and used his own strength against you to push his upper body through the door to beg you to let him stay. It was a mistake on your part, but it actually wasn’t all that terrible that night. You were just bitter.

“My bad,” Satoru said dramatically as he took a bite. “Just thought you missed me. That’s the reason you let me in, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not in the mood for any of his games. His smug grin made everything even worse, because he was right. “Gojo Satoru, wipe that grin off your face.”

“Must have hit a nerve,” He teased like it was still appropriate to do so.

You actually don’t even remember what you said then after that, but you just know… Gojo Satoru has you all figured out yet… he never said anything about it to you. And that was just him. He knew well enough not to break your heart one more time, but he was selfish enough to constantly flirt with you any time he could. If he passed by, or was coming home late from a mission and knocking on your door to remind you that he existed. Not anymore.

After cleaning his apartment, it’s all empty now. Which is a little strange. You’ve never even been to his place until after he died, and yet… it makes your stomach turn and feel upset after realizing that this place is no longer where your ex-lover resides. You understand that he’s no longer occupying it. There’s no point in keeping it for him. But maybe because you don’t think it through while you’re still in the grieving process. You don’t think about Gojo Satoru being dead because you don’t want to. It makes your heart squeeze and your breath stop. You can’t face the fact that he no longer exists and you can no longer see him anymore. You just can’t, so you wonder: where will his home be? Who's going to take care of him? Where is he going to go to shelter himself from the rain or snow? Where is he going to sleep? Where can he feel safe and secure?

You sigh, rubbing your eyes. You really need to get some proper rest. You feel yourself withering in the bitter feelings you still have toward Satoru, but also the dangerous sorrow that’s sinking your whole body down. You can’t believe that you really miss Gojo Satoru after all this time hating him and wishing you two had never met when he was here and alive, waiting for you to just cave into what your heart wanted. Truth is though, you never would. You were too strong for that.

Finally, you pack up the final things, leaving absolutely nothing behind. Satoru isn’t here anymore, and it looks exactly like that. This little corner of the world isn’t his anymore, and you’d like to say that it never was because he didn’t spend much of his time in this place. It’s just sad to see it all gone, stripped to the bare white box it actually is without the fun of your late ex-husband. You shut the door, leaving this place behind and bringing this part of Satoru with you, maybe the only part of Satoru that is still worldly and able for you to have in your grasp. You leave the key to his apartment on the landlord’s desk and leave with the rest of Satoru’s things in your arms, all thrown in the cardboard box labeled “Satoru” in your handwriting with a permanent marker. Silly of you to not even realize it, Gojo Satoru’s home is not a place, it’s you.

The end of it was the funeral process. Which was much more work than cleaning his apartment. You wish somebody was worried about your well-being, but that somebody, the most likely candidate, was dead. Satoru would have told you to chill out a bit and ask you to wind down with him, but this is his funeral, he can’t really do that now, can he? But you don’t want to seem like you’re so reliant on him. You’ve done plenty of things without him, and this will be no exception. He just… sort of made the process easier and bearable. You’re on your 10th phone call with the carpenters of the coffin when you really wish you didn’t take on the task of carrying out Satoru’s dying wishes. He didn’t even have many, because he was so sure he wasn’t going to die so soon.

Through it all, you hold yourself together quite elegantly. Even through the eulogy. No one would even guess the mental strain you put yourself through to make this all happen. All the floral arrangements are beautiful, Satoru’s corpse is dressed nicely—though you grace him with a closed casket funeral because you were sure that he did not want anyone to see him so vulnerably lifeless and you simply could not handle the sight of his stale and unresponsive body. But everyone could indeed tell, Gojo Satoru was loved. They could understand your love for the man. You wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t love him. But you just deny it.

His guest list was quite large. Some people you didn't even know, and you were sure he did not want that. But the higher ups had their own agenda too, and you had to make compromises though you stood your ground quite well for the sake of your late ex-husband's well being in the afterlife. You wonder, would Satoru love you for eternity for loving and caring for him unconditionally and so thoroughly? When you eventually join him, will he thank you for so meticulously planning and giving him a proper send off? You hope so. You hope that he will continue to love you in the next lifetime, and in that lifetime, you two will be happily together. Not miserably apart like you are now.

Maybe the only time anyone can see you break is when the casket is lowered and this is the last time that you’ll ever see Satoru’s face again, except you don’t. His casket is closed and covered with all the flowers you bought to send him off beautifully. There’s a complex look on your face, and no one could quite read it, but it was clear that there was a storm going on inside of you, stirring and rumbling. Your eyebrows knitted together and your eyes glossy with a down turn of your lips. You’re just keeping yourself together for Satoru. You need to.

The only time you get to break down about it is when you get home from the long day. Crumbling down your door, as you miserably sob. How could the world be so possibly cruel that you had to bury the last man you loved for the past ten years? It never gave you time to move on. You weren’t ready to let go just yet and be content with the distance. Sure, you asked for it when he was still tangible, but now he was untouchable, not existing, and it felt so painful. You curl up in a ball, on the bed you used to share with him. The bed you two used to gossip on and the bed where you simply just held him to sleep on your good days. The bed that you laid alone for most nights wishing he’d come to hold you and not be too tired for you. All the bad and good memories come to make you think of one thing; you wish Satoru was here right now.

You lay there, contemplating if you just want to stay there for the whole week or get up and cook yourself something. You haven’t been eating with how hectic it’s been to take care of Satoru’s send off. You sigh, closing your eyes. Sleep sounds like the best thing to you at the moment. You were drained and exhausted from preserving the life of Gojo Satoru as well as commemorating it. You needed that rest.

When you drift into sleep, you kind of hope that Satoru is there for you, waiting in a field of beautiful flowers like he came to visit you in a dream. Even if it’s just your imagination. You’d like to think that he cared enough that he left you alone to deal with all of the things he left behind. He doesn’t though, because you don’t dream. You just black out and you wonder if you’ll ever dream again. But maybe you’re just being dramatic because you miss your ex-husband so much. You blink the tears out from your eyes, wiping them before getting up and pulling yourself together. You can be sad, but not miserable. You were never the type to just crumble, however, even this shook you down to the very ground and yes, it is hard to get back up. But everything with Satoru was hard, and this was no different. You should have been used to this.

Eventually, you do get yourself together. Sad, but you’re functioning. You go back to work and you continue with your daily life. Satoru’s never really been a part of your daily routine after the 3rd year of being married to him. It was no different not seeing him at all, but it was just the fact that he truly wasn't there anymore. If you were to call his cell, it would just ring on your dresser in your room and go to voicemail. Sometimes, you wait for the voicemail just to hear his voice, but most times you stay away from his contact. You’re recovering, just slowly.

People at work send their condolences, just like they did when they found out you divorced Gojo Satoru. They give you a pitiful look and tell you to be strong, but when they think you’re not listening they bash Satoru for passing and still putting the responsibility of carrying his will out on his ex wife—you. You don’t defend him nor does what they say settle well with you. They’re right, of course. Gojo Satoru has always been selfish, up until his last breath, but you just can’t seem to feel validated when you’re the one who buried Gojo Satoru. He was once your whole world, how could you just completely numb yourself to the pain of losing your connection with him, absolutely and completely?

Apparently, you’re the only person on his will too. You inherit everything of his one day, and it’s kind of overwhelming. All of his money is transferred to your bank account, all his belongings, everything is yours. You don’t even know what to do with most of it. You don’t even want to look and use anything of his. So you store most of his things in a box and label it “Satoru,” along with the other things that you took from his apartment, and you make an account to store all his money in, for what? You don’t know, just something.

When you're older, you’ll come to realize that you made Satoru a loved person until the very end, and that you were perhaps the only person that he still had love for, even if you weren’t his wife anymore. This is why Satoru loved you so much, and yes, he got very lucky with you, you will give yourself that. But you also won’t feel so bitter about having to be the person to handle his departure because you made sure to do just the way he wanted it, by you. for now, you’ll miss him lots and bring him flowers whenever the time comes. You won’t call him your ex-husband, but your late-husband. You keep some of his clothes to wear like you used to. You still sleep on your side of the bed, leaving the space Satoru used to fill empty for him. Life goes on the way it used to.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo #satorugojo #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #gojo fanfic #gojo angst #jjk angst #jjk fluff #satoru x reader #satoru x you

[i2ycat]

— the ‘us’ theory

pairing sunoo x fem!reader synopsis after years of no contact, a sudden rekindling in your relationship with sunoo makes sparks soar higher than they’ve ever gone. it’s hard not to see just how much you missed being around your old best friend again genre slight angst, fluff, friends to lovers, college au word count 4.3k (was only supposed to be arnd 600, idk what happened LOL) warnings wrote this on 1% brain cells so please excuse if it seems like the plot is underdeveloped and pacing is weird, i know nothing ab mortal kombat, semi-proofread main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

You’ve known Sunoo since forever. From the moment you took your first baby step to the moment you got absolutely hammered by another girl in your grade, Sunoo had been right by your side, from kindergarten all the way to primary school.

It was weird not to see your brooding self beside the beaming boy, seeing as you guys never separated from each other for even a second. It made your parents think the both of you had separation anxiety, always throwing tantrums whenever the other wasn’t around.

But that was only until primary school.

By the time secondary school rolled around, you naturally started to drift apart. Being in the year above him, he stuck to his own group of friends, while you had yours. You had easily accepted the course that your relationship with Sunoo was headed off to, wanting to fit in with the rest of your ‘ew juniors’-minded clique so badly, because who hung out with juniors anyways?

It didn’t help that, not soon after, your father was stationed to a different department of the company on the other side of the world. You felt sad leaving everything you knew behind, all the familiar places, but you were also 13 and ready to be anywhere but the place you had been confined to. It felt exhilarating to finally leave everything behind — not that you had much to begin with. It’s always been just your mother, your father, and you.

Sunoo was out of the conversation by the time you turned 16. He became just someone you’d remember in passing; your parents bringing him up every now and then, but you never dwelled on the thought of him for too long.

By the time you were 19, you could barely remember what he even looked like, given that you'd only seen up until his pre-puberty phase: toothy grins, chubby cheeks, and all.

So imagine your shock when a taller, more mature shell of a man presents himself in front of you, claiming to be the Kim Sunoo you’ve already forgotten all about.

“Don’t you remember me? I’m Kim Sunoo!”

You met him by complete chance.

The last time you heard of Sunoo was when your mom broke the news on a random Sunday night that the Kim family would be permanently moving to Japan, and that was three years ago.

“Cmon, I’ve known you for, like, 13 years.” He clicks his tongue.

“Yeah, I guessed. I’m just shocked to see you here.”

“What? Is seeing a young man shopping for groceries so hard to believe?” He jokes, taking a pack of ramen noodles from the shelf and placing it carefully into his cart.

“It’s not that.” You chuckle. “I thought you moved to Japan?”

“Well, I can’t really be leeching off my parents forever.”

He’s got more wit to him than you remember.

“Right,” You quickly reply, unconsciously walking the rest of the noodles and pasta aisle at the same pace that he is.

“Wow, even after all these years, you’re still the same old Y/n I used to know.” He smiles at you, the apples of his cheeks tinting a light pink under the blindingly white LED lights overhead. It suddenly brought you back to times of playing together in the playground after school, the summer rays rendering the both of you sweaty messes while your mothers talked about adult gossip somewhere in the distance. The simpler times, when fitting into social circles barely even mattered yet.

“Am I supposed to be offended?” As you arrive closer to the snack aisle, you start to grab at items not scribbled on your sad excuse of a grocery list. You should really stop doing that; you mentally chide yourself.

“Maybe. Depends on how you take it.” He shrugs. “Doritos?” You shake your head.

Silence starts to permeate the air between the both of you, save for some random Nirvana tune playing faintly in the background. It wasn’t awkward per se, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either; rather, it sat right in the middle.

You’ve known Sunoo for 13 whole years of your younger adolescent days, but right now, it feels like you’ve just met him for the first time. Technically you are, after a few years that is, but maybe it was just you and your ineptitude for social interactions. Chae was right, you really should socialize with people more.

A beat or two passes by, “Are you free tomorrow by any chance?” Sunoo turns to you, bright eyes boring into yours.

“Why?”

“I just moved here like a week ago, and I have absolutely no friends.” He pouts, “Mind giving an old friend company on his own birthday?”

“It’s your birthday?” You stop in your tracks.

“Tomorrow, yeah.”

“Okay. Just send me the address.” You take out your phone to hand him, “You’re not just about to lure and kill me right?”

“Now why would I do that?” He lifts his eyebrows at you as he keys in his phone number, naming himself ‘no.1 childhood best friend’ in the process.

“You can never be too sure nowadays.”

“Yeah, as if I would kill my only friend in this entire city.” He retorts, fingers brushing yours ever-so-slightly as he hands you back your phone.

—

Seeing the bare-bones state that Sunoo’s box apartment was in made you feel for him. You’d already spent your early teens adjusting to the chaos that New York was, and you’ve acclimated to it by now, with the help of your parents, of course, but Sunoo, on the other hand? He came completely alone, with a singular suitcase in tow. It ignited a sense of protectiveness towards him. The same way it was when you were younger.

Sunoo was always one of the more smaller and younger children in the kindergarten, but that only made him more loved by the teachers and other caretakers. Memories resurfaced of how everyone would coo whenever Sunoo showed his signature smile, silently wishing they had a kid as endearing as Sunoo. They’d bring extra just for him, and Sunoo, being the sweet kid he was, basked in all of it blissfully.

The rest of the older kids didn’t like how Sunoo hogged all the adult’s attention, so they would constantly pick at him during play time, behind the knowledge of the teachers. Since you were a year older and much taller than Sunoo then, you always felt the instinctive need to step in and protect him from all of it, even getting sucker punched in the face for him one time. You chuckle at the distinct memory of Sunoo crying in the sidelines whilst you laid on the mat, a comically large bandage plastered on your cheek.

“What’s so funny?” Sunoo sticks his head out from the cupboard, eyeing your figure on the couch.

“I’m laughing at the fact that you at least have a couch.” You pat the space next to you.

“Hey, you can’t judge. I just moved here, and I don’t know where anything is anymore.” He says this as he pours room-temperature orange juice into plastic cups. “Happy birthday to me.” He sighs, handing you one.

“This is actually really sad.” You take a single sip out of the clear cup before setting it down on the arm of Sunoo’s sofa that was more like a loveseat if anything. “And I’m not just talking about the orange juice.”

“At least I’m not alone!”

“Why’d you move here anyway? I’m sure there’s better places than big ole overpriced New York.” You bring up a leg to get comfortable, and Sunoo does the same, his knee lightly grazing yours in the process.

“You wouldn’t wanna hear it.” He sighs.

“No, tell me!”

“It’s stupid.”

“I won’t judge. Pinky promise.” You bring your pinky rings towards his, locking them.

“I actually moved here for you.” He says it so softly that you thought you had misheard.

“Sorry, I think I misheard.”

“Nah, I think you heard correctly.” He bends down to grab a forkful of noodles, the one he bought yesterday, and moans gleefully at the bundles of flavour exploding in his mouth, “Woah. I think this might be my new favourite ramen.”

“Wait, you’re not being serious, are you?” Sunoo shakes his head at you, his cheeks blowing up as noodles enter his mouth, strand by strand. “Are you stupid?” You completely drop the smile you had been sporting just a minute ago, beyond baffled by Sunoo’s lack of critical thinking.

“Gosh, Sunoo! What would you have done if I hadn’t run into you last night? What if I already moved to a different state? A different country even?!”

“My mom is still in contact with yours, so I’m pretty sure I would’ve ended up at your front door anyway." He nonchalantly answers, shrugging his shoulders the way he always does.

You’ve completely forgotten how Sunoo was always the free spirit in your dynamic, doing anything and everything he wanted without ever thinking about the after. He always downplayed the severity of the consequences, only thinking about the moment and living in it blissfully.

Just a few days prior to your drift apart, Sunoo had dragged you out of your 6th grade classroom just before recess ended and towards the outdoor basketball court. A little mat had been planted on the grass, with what you could recognise as Sunoo’s lunch box set neatly on top.

He had asked you to skip class with him, a kind of celebration on the last day of school. Thanks to him, you were absolutely horrified to come home that day, while him, on the other hand, was not the slightest bit concerned.

“Why? Just why? We haven’t talked for, what, 6 years? And suddenly you move 13 hours away from home to be in the same city that I am?” You were fuming, and for a reason you weren’t too sure about yourself.

Maybe it was the knowledge that he had been thinking about you even after your drift apart, while you were not. Maybe it was the guilt of being the one to instigate the drift in the first place, but he still made his way towards you.

“I’m not too sure either.” He places the chopsticks on the makeshift coffee table. “But at least you’re here, and I’m not alone on my birthday.” He offers you a cheeky grin, one that reaches his eyes, and it almost instantly gives you whiplash.

“You’re driving me crazy here, Sunoo.”

“You said you wouldn’t judge and… it’s still my birthday, ya’know.” He pouts, cocking his head to the side in an attempt to soothe your bubbling anger with his biggest weapon — his face. “Can you stop being your practical self for just a second?” His tone was light, and his eyes were pleading.

He probably still remembered your weakness for pretty faces, and was taking advantage of that at the most convenient of times.

Damn Sunoo and damn pretty privilege.

—

After Sunoo’s semi-successful birthday party—his words, not yours—he’s been sticking to you like glue. He practically lives in your apartment with how much time he spends there. Even when you’re out for classes or errands, he'll take it upon himself to make himself feel at home. You practically spent every second of every day with him, just like it used to be when you were younger.

Your mother was overly ecstatic to find out that you had rekindled your friendship with Sunoo — almost so ecstatic in fact that it alarmed you just a tad bit, scared that she might try to set you up with her best friend’s only son.

She had even suggested that the both of you live together to save costs, she says. You weren’t entirely sold on that fact, seeing as you still wanted your semblance of privacy and freedom in your own home, but with the rising rent prices these days, it wasn’t really a choice now, was it?

“My mother says we should move in together.” You say this over a plate of scrambled eggs, one that Sunoo had so graciously offered to cook.

“I’m sorry?” Sunoo chokes on his cup of black tea.

“I mean, our dynamic is pretty good. You finish things that I don’t. I say it’s a pretty good match.”

Over the course of the last few months that you’ve been on-off living with Sunoo, you learned that he has a habit of picking up things that you’ve left aside to be forgotten. One instance of this was when you found your incomplete knitting project in Sunoo’s more nimble hands, working away while on his spot on your couch.

He explained that seeing things unfinished was a big pet peeve of his, and it usually works in your favour anyway.

“Yeah, but what about my apartment?”

“You say that as if you don’t basically already live here.” You pick up a piece of egg with your fork to bring it to your mouth.

“I guess, yeah, but..." His words trail off. “Never mind.”

“But what, Sun?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, taking a big gulp of his tea before setting the cup back down onto your wooden table, the one Sunoo had picked alongside some other furniture pieces that now scattered your flat.

“You better give up that act now because you know how stubborn I can get.” You peg the fork at him in a faux effort to assert intimidation. Not that you could be any more intimidating with your furrowed eyebrows and grim expression.

“It’s just...”

“Just?”

Sunoo ultimately sighs, picking up his plate to bring to the sink and turning his back towards you. “I would love to live together, really." He starts off. “But what if you bring other guys over? I don’t think I could handle that.”

“That’s it? You’re flattering me by even thinking I can pull guys.” You laugh as you make your way towards Sunoo with an empty plate in your hands. “Sun, there’s nothing to worry about, but I’ll make sure to let you know beforehand if I ever do.”

“That’s not what I was implying.” Sunoo keeps his voice low and whisper-like, almost like he doesn’t want you to hear, but you do anyway.

“Okay, then what do you mean?”

“I’m saying that I think I like you.” He takes a deep breath, finding it hard to formulate words from his thoughts. “I... I just... When we were 13, when we started drifting apart, I felt so lost and confused. I didn’t want to be like those movie cliches, losing my best friend because of high school or whatever.” He doesn’t look up from the dishes in front of him; instead, he focuses on mindlessly scrubbing the mug.

“I followed you here because, even after six long years, you were still my number one. I missed your presence. I always wondered when you would contact me again, but that never happened. I guess I was also too scared to talk to you first, so that’s that.” He continues. “I don’t want to burden you with my feelings any more than they already are, and if we officially, actually lived together, I don’t think my heart could handle all that.”

To say you were speechless was an understatement. You stared at him long enough to see dots, and yet you couldn’t think of anything to say.

Sunoo liked you. The little boy from kindergarten that you promised to protect liked you. Your best friend up until you were 13 liked you?

“Sun...” You start off but can never seem to find a proper end to your sentence.

“You don’t have to answer me right now. Or, as a matter of fact, you don’t even have to accept it. I just thought you should know since you proposed we live together.” He washes the foam away, setting the clean dishes on the drying rack. “I’ll take my leave now.” He smiles at you, and by the time the door closes behind him, you’re still standing frozen.

You don’t know what to do with this information. Yeah, Sunoo was cute, and you had a soft spot for him, but that doesn’t mean you like him. He grew up well, but that doesn’t mean you no longer saw him as the boy you needed to protect from the world. It was all a clash of thoughts, really.

—

A week had gone by since you texted Sunoo back, saying that you needed space to think. But you weren’t really using the time to think at all; you were actually doing quite well at doing the exact opposite.

“Chae, come on! That’s cheating!” You yell, aggressively pressing away at the console for your Omni-Man to dodge Kung Lao’s wrath.

“No, you just suck.” Chae sticks her tongue out at you. And after a few moments of tense silence, “Aaaand, K.O!” She cheers in your face while you pan at the bold K.O. letterings on the screen in admission of defeat.

“I’ll beat you next time.”

“Oh baby, there won’t be a next time until you sort out whatever it is you’re worrying about first.” She takes the console from your hands and sets it back in its original place under the divider of her TV set. “Now, talk to me.” She says this as she takes a seat beside you.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yeah, sure, as if you're coming here at 1 a.m. on a Wednesday night, even when you have classes tomorrow, is because of nothing.”

“I just couldn’t sleep. That’s all.”

“I’m going to go bald from all the stress you’re giving me.” She tugs harshly at her shoulder-length hair. “See this?!”

Your laugh echoes in Chaewon’s humble apartment, which overlooks the entirety of New York with the perfect view — one that her life as a social media influencer is able to afford. At times like these, you felt like you were her sugar baby, leeching off her big-time success like the broke college student you are.

“You’re being overly dramatic.”

"Yeah, and sometimes I wish you were more like me. Give me the damn drama!” She drapes herself all over you, head resting on your bare legs.

“Okay, fine!”

“Good.” She finally grins, taking a bag of popcorn from the table and tossing it into her mouth one by one, occasionally offering one to you.

“You remember Sunoo?”

“The one you cried about when you first met me?”

“I wasn’t crying!”

“Yeah, sure you weren’t.” She grimaces at you.

“Okay, but that was when I was 14, so it doesn’t count.”

“Whatever, whatever. Just continue!” Chaewon switches her position to comfortably sit face-to-face with you, her eyes wide and full of anticipation.

“A few months ago, I met him at the supermarket, the one you tell me to never go to.”

“What?! And you’re only telling me this now?!” Her voice was piercing, and it made your ears almost bleed onto her velvet-carpeted floor. Judging from her reaction, she was probably more concerned about the fact that you went to the only supermarket in the city she told you not to ever step foot into, rather than not having told her about your meeting with Sunoo there.

“Just let me finish, yeah?” Chaewon quips out a small apology before you continue, “And after that, we started hanging out here and there, ya'know, the whole old childhood friends shebang. It was great, honestly. He’s great company, and as you said, I was socialising with other people!”

“But?”

“How’d you know there’s a ‘but’?”

“There is always a ‘but’, my dear Y/n.”

You clear your throat. “He confessed to me just a week ago, after I had proposed to live together, ya'know, to save on costs.”

“You, what now?”

“Not everyone is as rich as you are, Chae; we grass-rooted people need to save money somehow.”

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“Ugh, it’s stupid, I know! But my mother suggested it, and I was like, ‘Oh, that’s a good idea!’” At this point, the bag of popcorn lays haphazardly on the floor, forgotten as you contemplate all your decisions with Chaewon clinging onto your side, koala style.

“Do you like him back?”

“I haven’t really thought about it before then.” You honestly say, “He has always just been ‘the younger boy who needs protecting’ to me.”

“He’s his own grown person now, Y/n.” She reminds you.

“I know. I just think he’s cute, is all.”

“How about this? You give him a chance to try and swoon you over; if it doesn’t work out, then you guys can pretend as if nothing ever happened!” She claps her hands together, as if she had just won a Nobel Prize for solving global warming. “You’re killing two birds with one stone!”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying is supposed to work.”

"Oh, who gives a fuck? YOLO.”

—

Chaewon’s advice to just yolo the fuck out of everything sticks to you more than you’d like to admit. It echoes in your mind when you’re taking the subway all the way to Sunoo’s apartment, echoes even louder as you stand in front of his door, and echoes almost deafeningly as you knock twice on it.

In about half a heartbeat, Sunoo opens his door with an urgency you could barely register in your haze of emotions. You felt bad after having practically ghosted him for a week straight after his confession, and even worse now that you could tell he was losing sleep over it. His hair was tousled into a mess that made it seem as if he had just gotten out of bed, even if it was already 3 p.m.

“Hey.” You greet, your lips pursed into a tight smile.

“Hey.” He greets her back.

“Can I come in? Or, is it a bad time? I’m not really too sure why I came in the first place.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come in.” He steps aside to make space for you to enter his home.

The last time you’ve been here was the night after you first met him — the day of his birthday. It’s less barren than you remembered, with pops of colour in random corners that somehow represented his sporadic personality perfectly.

“I see you finally did some decorating.”

“I mean, it’s already been more than a few months since I’ve moved here; it’d be weird if I didn’t.” His voice is groggy and still laced with sleep, but you don’t comment on it, instead sucking in a deep breath.

“I wanted to, um, get back to you.” You play with your fingers, picking at the skin. “And, uh, give you an answer. Well, it’s not really an answer, but you get what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

The both of you still stood just beyond his doorway; the faint playing of the TV in the background didn’t help to ease your racing heart. In your two years of being a young adult, you hadn’t found the opportunity to really sit down and find love, given that school had always been your top priority. So when you find yourself in such situations—not that you ever do—you're rendered a blubbering mess.

You’ve practiced this many times before with Chaewon, but it feels even more nerve-wracking now that the man in all his drowsy glory is standing right in front of you.

“We can try.” You start off. “I mean it as in, you can try courting me or whatever, and if it doesn’t work out, we can pretend as if nothing ever happened.” His lack of reply gives you time to really take a good look at Sunoo, now that the weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You’ve said what you wanted to say.

At an arm's-length distance, Sunoo is the textbook definition of attractive. He’s a head taller than you, has broad shoulders, and has a pretty face. His lips were full, his nose was tall, and his eyes were a golden brown colour. What was not to like about him? You just had to accept that he was no longer the Kim Sunoo from kindergarten. He was no longer the same young Sunoo who constantly needed your help.

“Really? You’d let me court you?” His face is bright with hope, and you nod to it wordlessly. “As in, you’d let me take you out on dates and stuff?”

You can’t help the chuckle that lets out, especially endeared by his enthusiasm. “Yes, Sun.”

—

BONUS!

It has been exactly a year since Sunoo had courted and officially asked you out. It wasn’t hard to fall for him because you already had an inkling that you had unresolved feelings for him anyway. The moving in part went as smoothly as it could, save for the slight mishap with Sunoo’s landlord, but with the help of your mother, everything was resolved soon after.

Sunoo lays peacefully on the sofa, soaking in the sunshine that filters through the blinds. He was practically in heaven right now.

“Kim Sunoo!” Your voice reverberates throughout the entirety of your shared apartment.

“Uh-oh, not the government name.” Sunoo looks up from his phone to see you standing in the hallway, hand tucked under your arms, with an expression that reminded him slightly of the French bulldog he’d seen on his morning walk. “Yes, baby?”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me! You let Luna sleep on the bed after she had her walk?!”

“Oh.”

“Oh!” You mimic him.

“I’m sorry, baby. She looked so sad sleeping on the floor by herself, so I just invited her to the bed.”

“Yeah, now her paw prints are all over the white sheets! Couldn’t you have at least cleaned her before you decided to do that?” As if Luna had heard her parents arguing from inside the room, she waddles out, footsteps padding down on the wooden floor, making it her mission to soothe her parents with just her existence alone.

Luna barks, grabbing both of your attention. You immediately lean down to pick Luna up, cooing at her before glaring at Sunoo, “You better wash the sheets.”

Sunoo stares at the both of you, dumbfounded. He thought he saw Luna smirking at him, so he blinked once and then twice, only for you and your baby to disappear as you walked towards the bathroom, your voice echoing as you continued to baby-talk to Luna.

Even with your overbearing practicality and new spoiled baby to take care of, he’d never regret asking his mom about you that one fateful night.

© i2ycat 2024 idk why the first half got me thinking i was gonna write a murder mystery fic HELPP. i swear it’s just romance 😞 also this is straight dogwater, i’m so sorry idk what i was writing…

#i2ycat #enhypen imagines #enhypen sunoo #sunoo x reader #sunoo ff #enhypen ff #sunoo fic #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen #sunoo fluff #enha x reader #enha soft thoughts #enha imagines #enha fluff #enha fics #kim sunoo #lyn’s archive

[mrswarnerxo]

❪ ✧ ❫ wounds and… flirting?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: malakai azer x fem!reader.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: after battle, kai has a knack for getting injured and not letting anyone help him. well, that is, except for you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: wounds, blood, flirting, tension, female reader, bandages, stitches, slight gore (?), fluff i guess?

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 869

𝐀/𝐍: heres to all my girls who want a kai azer fic but theres absolutely 0, aka this poor, innocent soul. kinda happy that im the first person to make this (i think? oh my god if im actually not it’ll just make me look like an egomaniac even though i kind of am but im not i just have a huge pride DTOPIT) also sorry this took so long lmao😭

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐈 “𝐊𝐀𝐈“ 𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✓

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @reminiscentreader @nqds @never-enough-novels @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys @evaswarner @sc11vb @sophiesonlinediary @starrynightsxo @f4iry-bell @his-littlefox @viivdle

this was the third time. the third time he had hurt himself in battle.

yes, you get that he’s fighting and he’ll get hurt no matter what. but for god's sake, you feel like he almost purposely hurts himself in battle.

so, here you are, dragging the king’s second son to the healing room, scolding him as he follows you like a puppy.

“i can’t believe it, kai. the third time. i swear, one of these days, i won’t be here to heal you,” you rant, not even looking behind you to see if the man is still following you.

you could almost feel him chuckling at your antics, thinking that you’re being over dramatic. which, in your opinion, you definitely aren’t.

you walk into the healing room and push the nineteen-year-old onto the bed. his chin is still dripping with blood, and bleeding scars are scattered around his muscular form.

“i’ll be fine, sweetheart. it’s only a few wounds; i’m not dying,” he taunts, rolling his eyes. you shoot the enforcer a harsh glare as you dig for some bandages and stitches.

your eyes glance to his rib, a long, deep, red wound traveling through his skin. you know that it pains him to sit and walk with that wound, but you also know that his father, the king, made him able to handle pain like that.

“sure,” you say sarcastically, get out the bandages once you find them. you put them on the stray, along with the stitches.

“why don’t you let the healers handle this, it’ll be much easier.” kai looks at you with a deadpan expression before shrugging. “i don’t want them to,” he says simply. you blink before glaring at him again, slamming the forceps you found on top of the tray along with the bandages.

“moron,” you mutter, making him grin bloodily at you. you roll your eyes, get a cloth, and start to gently tap his lip with the cloth, drying the blood.

you accidentally look up just to see him staring at you, making eye contact. his gray eyes glance between your own, his lips separating slightly.

gulping, you look away and dig in the counter for some alcohol for his wounds. you hear him sigh from behind you as you take the alcohol out.

“take off your shirt.” kai looks at you in amusement before taking off his shirt.

you’ve done this before; making him take off a piece of clothing so you could bandage his wounds without trouble, but it never fails to make blush come to your cheeks and your stomach flutter with butterflies.

kai looks up at you with a knowing look in his eyes, a small smirk forming on his lips. you clench your jaw before turning to the tray beside you and getting the alcohol.

you pour the liquid on the cloth in your hand before putting it on the large cut—probably made by a sword or someone with powers—on his defined —muscular but lean—chest.

you hear him hiss in pain, though you still feel his eyes on you. “that’ll need stitches. now, if you’d ask a proper healer, i would’ve just healed it with powers, but since i’m not…” you trail off, giving him a deadpan look.

“no, i’m—fine,” he grunts, his hands clenching the sheets underneath him. rolling your eyes, you grab the forceps and carefully grab the needle with it.

“you ready?”

“this isn’t the first time i needed stitches, sweetheart, i’ll be fine.”

“whatever.”

you hear a sharp hiss whenever you stick the needle into his skin. carefully, you start to stitch his wound back up—along with his hisses and held-in grunts of pain.

once you're finished, you cut the string and put the needle back on the tray. (idk man idk to do stitches) for the rest of the wounds, you get the alcohol and put it on the cotton again before cleaning the other small cuts and wounds.

“you’re a natural at this—thanks to me, of course,” kai murmurs, hissing halfway through. you glare at the man as you get the bandages, starting to bandage the wounds on his chest.

“that’s not something to brag about, kai. if anything you should be embarrassed,” you hiss, continuing to bandage up his wounds.

he hums and you feel his eyes on you again, watching you. he continues to stare at you until eventually you can’t handle his heated gaze on you and lift your head, meeting his eyes.

your breath catches in your throat as you lift your head a bit too close to his, feeling your cheeks get warm.

kai’s gaze travels to your other eye, to eventually your lips, then back to your other eye. instinctively, you lick your lips to wet them, making kai’s attention travel back to your lips.

you see him lean in ever so slowly, as if silently asking if he could kiss you. “can i—”

the door swings open and you quickly jump back, separating you and kai. looking towards the door, you see the blond hair of his big brother, kitt.

he looks between the two of you suspiciously, lifting an eyebrow. “was i, uh, interrupting something?” he asks.

“no.”

“kind of.”

“kai—”

#kai azer #kai azer fanfic #kai azer fanfiction #kai azer x y/n #kai azer x reader #kai x y/n #kai x reader #kai x fem!reader #kai x fem!y/n #malakai azer #powerless #powerless lauren roberts #x reader #x fem!reader #x y/n #x fem!y/n #belles fanfictions💋 #books #lauren roberts #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfictions

[sadlybeans]

No More Batman AU Part 4: The Prodigal Son

AO3 Link || Part 1, 2 & 3

Dick could pretend all he wanted and play at being a strong, reliable hero, but he wasn’t.

Nightwing had become a beacon of what any new member of the Justice League could aspire to be, standing next to the founding members after winning his own place and not as a replacement to Batman after his retirement. He had worked hard to be the person everyone could rely on, and in turn he had won many wonderful friends that would undoubtedly give everything for him if he just asked— But Dick Grayson? Dick Grayson was a coward.

Dick Grayson was scared to death every day when he didn’t have his siblings in sight, anxiety building up on his chest until he could call or visit to see them, make sure they were safe, they were home, they were alive. He had lost every drop of courage the day he returned home only to be told his little brother had been killed. There wasn’t a single day since those news that he didn’t feel fear, even if he knew his little siblings were strong and capable on their own.

But… well. He wasn’t sure if he was afraid for Damian, or of what he could do.

Dick had started his vigilante career as a child of all of nine years old when his rage was too much to contain and Bruce had lost every battle to keep him home. He had trained with and against many people and he had grown so much that it was said he had long ago surpassed Batman, and yet— yet he felt that Damian was almost, just almost, as good as him.

Damian, the fifteen year old child that had just been dropped on their doorstep a couple months ago. Damian, who refused to acknowledge their presence most days, who swore in expletives that scandalised even Alfred, and who was a trained and seasoned assassin. Damian, who could heal inhumanely fast, who could see in the dark and move without sound, and who had broken Tim’s arm in three with two strikes too fast for any of them to stop.

He was just a kid who shouldn’t have been in their business -much like none of Dick’s siblings should be- yet he was proficient in many of Bruce’s and Dick’s techniques, and he was unfairly fast in learning amidst a fight… Dick had tried setting him up against Cass, and had thought it worked for a moment… until he learnt to use her own moves and set them equally until they were both exhausted. He had mopped the floors with Tim and Steph, and then almost defeated Dick all in a row.

When Tim had asked sarcastically if that was all he had, Damian had frowned as he opened and closed his fist.

“I’m still adjusting to fight without weapons”

A frightening phrase that had made them all fall silent, and then he had to ask cautiously if he’d like to spar with wooden swords. He could’ve sworn Damian almost brightened to that suggestion, but it was such a quick expression he couldn’t be sure. He then picked a katana and won. Against everyone.

And so, after an entire week of testing, they sat in the batcave and Bruce took a deep breath as he stared at all his children, and Dick for once didn’t know how to feel knowing that there was absolutely no excuse to not let Damian out onto the field.

“It’s… clear that your mother trained you well” he started.

“She didn’t” Damian interrupted immediately “Mother had tutors for me, but baba made me better“

Dick mentally filed another tick for concern on his thoughts about Damian’s mysterious baba.

“Right” B cleared his throat “your baba trained you well, I admit that you’re strong enough— But!” the boy scowled and he continued “Things here are not like you’re used to and….”

“I’ve been told on your family’s stand on killing. It’s stupid, but I’m willing to play along” he grunted reluctantly.

Bruce stared at him, and so did Tim and Dick, but there was no trace of deceit in him. For all his intensity and temper, he wasn’t really the type to lie as they had learnt, so Dick was inclined to believe him this time.

“… Very well. You can’t be Robin”

“You have said that already” Damian rolled his eyes “I’ll take another name”

That is certainly not the point, and none of them were comfortable with him being out there when they didn’t even know why he wanted to.

Things in Gotham had gone downhill when Jason died, and when Batman was put into the case that stood next to Robin, it was up to everyone else to keep the order in the city. They’d done a good job of keeping up the illusion, of pretending Batman still existed, but those who knew him well knew the truth… Joker hadn’t escaped in ten years, not since a week after Jay died and Nightwing beat him half to death before tossing him in Arkham. But now the asylum was on high alert, and a certain clown was said to be in a good mood after those photos of Robin were leaked.

The news had exploded and the topic was trending online, hence why Damian was actually needed despite their reluctance; he was the only one that fit the build and size, and who could also perfectly replicate Jason’s body language as terrifyingly confirmed by the photos and footage. They didn’t look that much alike and Damian’s skin was darker, but the pictures were taken at night and from far off, nobody could spot the difference unless he was close enough and standing still.

“Can you promise that you’ll be careful and follow Dick’s rules?”

The boy frowned.

“I’m not a child, I know what to do”

“We already discussed this, it’s my way or nothing”

“… Fine, I promise” he said in a grunt, crossing his arms across his chest. “Any other ridiculous demands?”

“You never patrol alone, ever” Bruce held up a hand before he could protest “that’s a rule all of them follow, not only you”

He didn’t look any more happy but nodded.

“And one last thing… you’re going to need to learn the ropes of how this works, and Dick can’t supervise you all the time. For obvious reasons, I don’t believe anybody else is qualified to supervise you, so after talking it through with Clark… Superboy is going to be your partner whenever Nightwing is not available”

Damian didn’t say anything, no immediate explosion of anger, nothing. They all waited with baited breath as he just stared at Bruce.

“He’s a child” he finally replied, with actual bafflement in his voice.

“Jon is thirteen, yes, but he’s been in the business for longer than you, and he’s kryptonian. It’s safer”

“So I don’t kill him”

“Safer for both of you”

“No, you really just want to prevent me from killing him because I don’t have access to kryptonite at the moment”

“I… Like to believe you would not attempt to kill a child”

Damian shook his head in disbelief and Tim pushed past Dick.

“Are you serious, B!? Jon’s way too good for him, it’s not safe! Why not— hell, if you want him to be supervised by a kryptonian then Kon might be able to!”

Bruce sighed deeply.

“Supernova is as busy as you are, son. And there is an undeniable advantage on Damian being around a boy his own age, it will raise less suspicion”

“B, this is madness!”

“I don’t think this is a good idea….”

Slowly they all started to argue and Bruce tried to appease Steph, Tim and Duke, with Cass staying silently frowning in the background and Dick letting himself fall seated on the chair next to the computer, exhausted both physically and mentally. Damian didn’t look too upset but he was definitely over the whole conversation and completely tuned it out, moving through a couple sword forms with his wooden katana. God… when had things fallen apart this bad?

A phone rang in the silence and Damian turned his head towards the computer, where his burner phone rested. Dick’s eyes widened and slowly the discussion died down as the teen crossed the room and picked it up, looking down at the screen for a second before he answered it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you ungrateful little brat!?”

Dick fully winced at the furious voice that hollered at the other side, audible in the sudden dead silence of the cave. Damian looked wholly unimpressed, and he wasn’t sure if to think that was stupid or brave.

“I’m fitting in, like you said I should. Wayne has agreed to let me patrol with them”

Damian please, don’t you have any self preservation instincts? Why are you talking to your father like this? Damian, I beg you—

“If you so much as step a single foot out on the streets on patrol I WILL DRAG YOU BACK kicking and screaming if I have to!”

“Ok”

“You have no idea of—! … What?”

Damian’s lips turned into a smug smirk and Dick gaped at him.

“I said ok. You can come drag me back inside the house”

Oh.

Oh, this sneaky little brat… It was such a simple trap but it worked. This mysterious “baba” of his obviously wanted nothing to do with the bats -so far their leading theory was that he didn’t want to risk getting arrested-, which was why he couldn’t check on Damian personally, but if the boy did something so reckless that he wouldn’t approve of, something he knew only he would be able to stop… then he had no choice but to come to Gotham and set him straight.

“Damian Al-Ghul, you know exactly why I don’t want you out playing superhero” the man hissed in a low dangerous tone.

“I know” the teen agreed calmly “and it’s not going to stop me. I didn’t want you to go either and you didn’t listen to me”

“I’m the adult in this relationship you little shit, you don’t get to make demands”

“Well you gave me away so it’s not up to you anymore!” And he hung up. He turned off the phone and turned away to stare directly at Bruce. “When can I go out, then?”

Fuck…. Dick seriously needed a drink.

Robbing a store in Gotham was frighteningly easy, as long as you didn’t run across a very pissed off owner or a vigilante. But hey, Mark was very sure that none of the Bats patrolled that area at that hour, giving him a window of time to act and leave silently without anybody being disturbed.

After emptying the safe and putting a few semi valuable items in his backpack he sighed and turned around towards the door, and nearly had a heart attack right there and then, a strangled yelp coming out of his mouth. There was… god, that was a new one!

The figure was perched atop a car at the other side of the narrow street, crouched and staring directly into him through the soulless white eyes. They wore a black hood that obscured most of their face, but the bat cowl they wore was still visible and the ears poked out of it, easily making them identifiable. The rest of the suit was mostly black and red, with a somewhat childish touch on it that gave it a creepy vibe; the chunky boots of a bright red that matched the knee and elbow pads, the crimson palms of the black gloves, and the bright bat on their chest. Something about this miniature Batman reminded Mark of… of Robin, whose pictures had been supposedly taken not long ago.

Fuck, no, it couldn’t be him! Robin had died ten years ago, this was impossible—

The figure stood from his crouch and jumped down to the pavement to start making his way over, and Mark screamed in terror.

New Vigilante in Gotham! Could This Be Robin!?

Dick folded the newspaper and sighed, looking up to the many screens of the computer again. The media had been in a frenzy the entire week, and the internet was blowing up even more. Hardcore fans had dug up every single video and photo they had of Robin from ten years ago and were comparing them side to side with little Batman, and incredibly… they were thoroughly convinced that they were one and the same, which had sparked an avalanche of theories as to how had he come back from the dead, and why so late. If any of them had been skeptical about Damian’s ability to imitate Jason, then their doubts had been eliminated— hell, he could do it so well that he had added details not even Dick or Bruce could remember until they rewatched old footage to compare.

In just his first night the new Batman had turned the city upside down, and so far after a week of continuous work, he seemed to be doing just fine… which was why now, Bruce wanted them to focus on finding that mysterious ‘baba’.

Damian was still not aware of their active investigation, but either way they had found absolutely nothing, not even Babs had managed to dug up any evidence or record, and it didn’t help that the info they had was severely limited to little facts the youngest Wayne dropped here and there.

“I don’t think we’ll find shit” Tim declared next to him, grumpily staring at the nth file they had on the League of Assassins. “We don’t even know what this man looks like”

Dick let out a long sigh and leaned back on his chair as another article popped up on screen, one mentioning the date of Robin’s death, and a vague memory popped up in his head.

“Hey Timmy, do you remember I told you about that kid I ran into at the faire?” he asked quietly as he straightened back up.

“Yeah, the rude little shit that didn’t even say thank you”

“…. I think that was Damian”

Tim finally looked up and frowned.

“What?”

Dick nodded as he turned to look at him with wide eyes, now remembering clearly.

“He was wearing sunglasses so I didn’t see his eyes, but the skintone and face shape is the same, and he was wearing his black hoodie that day, I’m a hundred percent positive it was him”

And come on, the way he talked was a dead giveaway too.

“Dick, why is this relevant?” his poor little brother asked in annoyance.

“Because I saw his dad too!” he declared triumphantly at last, grinning like a mad man, before he turned to the computer and started typing frantically “I couldn’t see his face either, he wore sunglasses and a mask, but he was tall— hell, I think he’s taller and broader than Bruce. And he— he had white hair, I remember I saw white hair beneath his hood”

Tim scrunched up his nose.

“He’s old….? But that can’t be, his voice sounds way too young… dyed hair?”

“Possibly. It would make sense if he doesn’t want to be recognised”

It was a small trail, but a trail nonetheless. With those small identifiers they could check across the security feed of thousands of cameras in Gotham, and narrow the search to big tall men with white hair that had been spotted around the time Damian arrived and right before it. If they clocked a single glampse on him from one of those, they could follow the lead until it brought them to his doorstep. The man was good at hiding, they had to admit, but they weren’t the world’s greatest detectives for nothing.

Before they could truly start digging on the new lead properly, one of the screens was overaken by Babs.

“Sorry to crash your party boys, but I think you should clock in early today— I just got an alert on East End for way too many gunshots. Mini Batman is requesting to go out”

“I’m not a mini anything, Gordon” Damian called from the stairs, where he was walking down followed by a silent Cass.

Babs completely ignored him and Dick frowned.

“I don’t think it’s wise to bring you to a possible gang war, Damian”

The fifteen year old raised an eyebrow at him.

“Should I remind you that of anybody in this room, I have performed best the entire week?” he replied dryly.

Dick frowned but Cass surprised them by raising her hand to interrupt.

“We need all the help. Batman will play nice”

They glanced at Damian, who rolled his eyes but nodded in accordance to their sister. Well then… time to work.

What they found in East End was not a gang war in fact, but clowns… Joker’s thugs. While Joker himself hadn’t stepped out of Arkham since Dick last tossed him in ten years ago, his clowns usually came back every few months to remind Gotham they still existed, that Joker could come back every time… It didn’t seem like he had escaped, not yet at least; when and if he did, he would definitely try to make it memorable for ‘little Robin’. At the very least, it meant there was no rogue running rampant and the cleanup was dealt with almost completely smoothly—

That is, until Damian was snatched mid air by the tall and imposing figure of a man, grabbed by the collar of his cape like a kitten as he kicked to struggle to get free.

Dick -or well, Nightwing- turned to attack and then stopped in his tracks. That man was big, definitely bigger than Bruce was now, with a shock of white hair amidst black and his face covered by both a domino and a red metallic mask over his nose and mouth. None of them heard him move near them, despite the fact he was not a few steps away… he had managed to sneak up on all the bats, he could’ve done anything before they even relised he was present.

“I warned you, and you didn’t listen” the robotic voice came from the mask and its modulator “You’re fucking grounded, you little piece of shit”

Damian twisted to kick him in the chest despite being held up in the air, although the man didn’t even react or move at being hit. The boy wasn’t upset though, grinning as if he’d just won their little spat, which in a way he had.

“Hi, baba” he said innocently “you look really nice tonight”

#batman #batfam #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #no batman au #fanfic #he’s here! #the boy is finally back!

[luminarai]

you’re on your own kid / yeah you can face this

I started this Parse comic almost a year ago (!) but I’ve only just managed to put it together now. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about Kent and how he mostly exists in bits and pieces as seen through the eyes of other characters.

There’s just something about being haunted and defined by your past (mistakes) but also finding strength on your own. (And how there can still a hopeful ending despite it all.)

#my art #omgcp #omgcheckplease #omg check please #kent parson #kp #kvp #pimms #(ish) #jack zimmermann #check please #this is the real version finally!! so sorry about the accidental posting of one of the drafts earlier 🥲 #I can’t believe this took so long… a YEAR #I’ve had most of it finished for a YEAR #but here it is #I had to cut a few lyrics and images to make it flow better #a couple of the cut pics I really wish I could have managed to fit in there but alas #besides it was mostly like. parse being ghosted after jack’s overdose. the pics were too static of that makes sense #the song is you’re on your own kid by Taylor swift #yes I firmly believe that kent parson is the check please character most likely to be a swiftie #and I stand by that #honestly in universe parse has probably been to at least one of her parties #as a fellow celeb cat parent #a lot of this song is very kvp and some of it is a bit more handwavy ~it fits the vibes~

[peachcitt]

metamorphosis // hum hallelujah

for @anna-scribbles (my best girl, my partner in crime, my tumblr/twitter mutual, my silly rabbit right hand girl man arm hand).

metamorphosis was as much your story as it was mine; thanks for all your love<3

#metamorphosis #the life cycle of the butterfly #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml #ml art #ml comic #my art #miraculous ladybug #i can’t believe the shade of blue i ended up picking was so close to tumblr blue #also you would not believe how long this took. this was supposed to be a birthday present for anna 😭😭 #ALSO i was about to forget adrien’s burn marks in the three years later scene #i literally only noticed after i sent them to anna and then i added them in on my phone #anyway. anna i hope you like this i love you very much happy birthday

[bellpaw]

i stacked them sorry haha

#my art #warriors #warrior cats #po3 #thunderclan #lionblaze #jayfeather #hollyleaf #babe wake up its time for my quarter-year warrior cat posting! #have i made that joke before? i feel like i’ve made that joke before #anyway.. the sillies. #i can’t believe it took this long to get modern designs out for them #and i don’t think i’ve ever posted a hollyleaf design online? ever i don’t think? #ok never mind. i posted one picture 6 years ago 👍 #my jayfeathers from 2015 so. thats even older lol

[arthur-r]

as usual i am up late into the night planning my future when i should be: getting a good nights sleep so that i even have a future!!

#i have work in seven and a half hours. so i should really be getting to bed #BUT i officially made my final definitive degree plan!!!! i mean not the actual classes but all the requirements i have to meet and how!! #(in order to earn: history and information science double major. with certificates in material culture and classics) #and i’m genuinely excited for every single class i have to take except for human-computer interaction #just cause i know it’s gonna get overly technical in ways that won’t quite apply to my future #anyway every single other thing i’m gonna do is very cool and exciting. so everything is good really #but i should be sleeping. and i’m not. as usual 🤧 #idk wish me luck!!!! i’m so hyped about my degree plan though #i’ll go into more detail another time. i’m very excited #ANYWAY goodnight!!!! can’t be so busy planning my future in library science that i DONT GO TO MY SHELVING JOB #kind of important to actually go to work for the library that employs me…. #and then i might go see a first-printing roget’s thesaurus!!!! or i’ll sleep. we’ll see #followed by lunch with GUY WHO IS THE WORST KILL HIM WITH HAMMERS #(there is nothing really wrong with me he just keeps kind of being mean to me and also expecting me to fall in love with him. but like #extremely passively and not manipulatively it’s just like. hey buddy you’re doing this friendship wrong….) #anyway then i have a class and after that i have an hour to rest. and then a phone call and then a lot of homework #(ten page paper draft due in a week and a half!! so it’s time to start writing the actual body of it) #and then i sleep for a LONG time and then work again on saturday. and then sleepover with somebody i have a crush on?? #and then be normal all day on sunday and do a little more paper writing. and programming homework. and whatever else #and then keep up with the slog for three weeks!!!! and all of a sudden it’s summer!!!! #projects left this year: material culture paper (entirely unstarted. but may research the thesaurus and just win!!!!) #history project (draft due the monday after next and real paper due a week after classes end) #one more programming assignment where i adapt my recipe doubler project (probably. it’s getting stupid at this point but it’s what i got!!) #and a programming test in two weeks and then the final a week after that. then no more programming #and then i just have my weekly latin tests and a latin final on may 5th. and then EVERYTHING IS DONE #ok i got this. sorry for walking through my schedule in the tags it’s how i remember what’s real #can’t believe my fucking partner just kind of walked out on me there hello???? like. we should be powering through finals together #but i’m genuinely better off without him so i guess it’s just whatever. trash took itself out or something?? #anyway. i’m so regular. and i have work in the morning. and i’m going to sleep #thank you world. goodnight

[chalkeater]

About the timeline post, i saw someone mention that Ralsei's manual in the files says 202X

oh FR? if that’s true then I’m sorry to everyone who thought 201X 😔

will look into this… It does say that. On one hand I get why we think 201X- because Deltarune came out in 2018. but if 202X is the case then Toby Fox had it that way to accommodate for the fact that Deltarune should be completely finished before 2030.

So canonically because Ralsei made this manual to give to Kris (or anyone else) the game can’t happen any earlier than 202X. Let’s say in-game Kris is 17 and let’s say that everything happened in 2020. just to keep it close enough. if the guess for Spamton Sweepstakes is that it took place in 2009 Kris would be 6 years old help

I don’t think I have the brain power to think of when everything took place IF connected to our human world out here. There are alternative ways to think about it though:

Everything took place in around 2018 anyway which makes it more possible (age wise) to start running tour own forum with enough clarity

Everything does take place in 202X but there’s something going on with technology not being as updated in the town (Maybe Ms Toriel’s old school with her antennae TV? and everything coming to this town later than the rest of the world?

or Ralsei wrote 202X as a typo

or Deltarune’s timeline just can’t be connected to our human world and how technology and the internet changes and evolves didn’t happen at the same pace- either in just Hometown or entirely in-universe. At the end of the day it was definitely probably written as 202X so we subconsciously see it happening as the same time as our own lives anyway and so we’re even more inclined to relate to everyone maybe

#ask #anon #meta stuff #long post #ignore my rambling i’m just trying to connect it all together #glittery forums weren’t as popular after a certain point #but because of the way Noelle types I want to guess that IF we were to tie the timeline to this real world tomeline #and with the fact that Kris is in highschool right. I remember us using XD and rawr when we were like 10-14 in well. 2010-2014 #So i that possible? Kris in 2010-2014 would have been 7-11 so that’s a maybe #If Noelle and Kris were the same age canonically then you’d have to push it to 2014 because a 7 year old would not be making comprehensive #forum posts #OK IM DONE BYE #also i just can’t really believe that Deltarune takes place in 2009 as a whole because it’s implied Spamton Sweepstakes took place a WHILE #back. Noelle doesn’t talk like that anynore (in-game). you can tell they sound younger #If anything Spampton Sweepstakes does take place in 2009 but the present day is not 2009 #then again correct me if im weong #thanks for coming to my ted talk

[clamsjams]

interrupting my regular posting to say draw tiny tom with jevin you cowards

#look i know u guys like ur jimmy angst and it’s been a bit since empires 2 ended #and yeah the little sherif outfits r cute but tom knew jimmy for all of like 2 seconds #but also why does no one realize the potential of reluctant slime dad #he threatened to burn down cubs whole museum if he took tom #it would be soooo cute #when hes little and teething tom steals jevins bones to gnaw on #he doesn’t need a carrier to carry tom he just kinda shoves him into his slime #toms good there as long as his heads out #so someone asks jevin where tom is and he unzips his hoodie to reveal the little baby head #when toms a little older jevin gives them the ‘job’ working in his storage #and tom adores getting to work and help their papa #isn’t jevin super into christmas? so tom is too #and every year jevin tells tom the story of how he got them and how they were the only gift he ever needed #does anyone see my vision #tag rant #god i can’t believe it’s been almost a year since the crossover #empires s2 #hermitcraft #empires x hermitcraft #empires x hc #hermitcraft jevin #tiny tom #empires tiny tom #hermitcraft tiny tom #hermitcraft crossover #posts from the ocean

[saetoru]

AGE IS NOTHING BUT A NUMBER — GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day two — overstimulation ; find masterlist here

synopsis. befriending nanako and mimiko has its perks—like fucking their father, for example. suguru might have aged over the years, but that doesn't mean he's lost his touch. don't believe him? that's okay—he can always just show you instead

length. 5.3k words (bro this fic was agonizing)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, dilf! suguru, college au (reader is a student), age gaps (20+ difference), jealous suguru, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, angel)

notes. this took me so long bc i hate it so im posting it and running away to play genshin to slave away for primos

most people can tell their best friends everything. not you, though—you have a secret. a dirty, shameful, horrible little secret, in fact.

no one knows that every chance you get, every small little moment you can possibly squeeze in, you fuck your two best friends’ father—and it’s going to stay that way, unknown and forever hidden. suguru is young as far as parents go, just barely in his twenties when he’s found himself a single father of two, but that doesn’t mean he’s not too old for you. and it especially doesn’t mean that it’s not inappropriate to fuck the man that raised your two closest friends.

you meet nanako and mimiko during your freshman year of college—the rest is history. the first time you spend the night at their place, suguru (he insists you call him that on your first meeting) is overjoyed that his girls have someone as lovely as you.

who wouldn’t be? you’re smart, well-mannered, respectable, and incredibly studious. what a perfect role model for his girls—after all, every father’s worst nightmare is his sweet, precious daughters venturing off to the real world. men are dogs—suguru should know. they’re sleazy and prey on young women who are naive and unsuspecting, taking advantage of their hopefulness before completely destroying their innocence. suguru can’t bear the idea of his perfect little girls becoming victims of such sinister behavior—but that’s all quelled when he meets you.

but he never thought, not even for one second, that he’d become one of those men.

those older men who fuck girls half their age—the girls that are barely in their twenties and still don’t even really understand how taxes work. the girls that have just started to learn how to hold their alcohol and can only recently buy it legally. the girls who don’t realize how complicated adulthood can be, just barely spreading their wings and learning what it’s like to be free.

suguru has always found those men deplorable. they’re the awful, disgusting, untamed vermin of society��women must be protected from them at all costs.

but now? well….now he’s one of them—and he finds, even as disgusted with himself as he is from time to time, he has little regrets.

not when you’re sprawled under him, hands tracing over his bare chest, feeling the soft skin under your palms in wonder. suguru, though he’s not let himself go by any means, is past his prime—he still frequents the gym, and he has more time to go now that the girls are gone most of the day, but he’s not immune to the effects of aging.

his hair has more than a few strands of white sprinkled in now; nanako makes sure to remind him not to pull them out unless he wants more. he’s still managed to keep the abs he was once so proud of in his youth, but they’re still not as hard—layered over a slight belly that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter what he tries. his skin is a bit looser, and his eyes have slight wrinkles in the corners of them, but despite it all, suguru still looks as handsome as ever.

he’s aged well, still looks remarkably young for men his age, and still looks like that dashing young man he once was who stole hearts. in fact, he still hears about his looks, especially from nanako and mimiko’s friends—he’s always chuckled to himself and shook his head in amusement.

that’s your dad? god, he’s so hot.

what? he’s single? oh my gosh, do you need a mom?

i can’t believe he’s never been married—women in his generation don’t deserve him. i’ll take him off their hands.

wait, do you have pictures of him when he was younger?

oh my god, he’s so fine. are you sure he’s in his forties?

nanako and mimiko, bless their hearts, have always crinkled their noses at the…less than proper comments they’ve had to witness about their father. in fact, they’ve watched teachers practically throw themselves onto suguru at parent-teacher conferences. it’s bothersome—a little disturbing to hear their friends talk about all the things they’d let their dad, of all people, do to them.

but you? you don’t make unhinged comments. they appreciate that.

but if only they knew…

if only they knew that sometimes, like right now, when you’re spending the night, you don’t actually sleep—instead, you sneak off to their father’s room, lay on his mattress under his body, and feel his touch. you can feel him, hard and throbbing in his sweats as his clothed cock presses against your thigh—but he takes his time with you, and doesn’t do anything about the clear arousal pooling between your legs just yet. 

instead, he focuses on remembering your body—it’s been a while, after all. he hasn’t felt your hips, hasn’t tasted your skin, hasn’t heard your voice. 

“missed you,” suguru breathes, hovering over you as you hum, nipping at your skin as his nose brushes along your neck. your hand is playing with his hair, twisting long, black and white strands along your fingers. “haven’t seen you in a bit, angel.”

“i’ve had midterms,” you murmur.

suguru knows—nanako and mimiko have been studying for them themselves. he’s more than a little disappointed that you haven’t come over to study with them yet. but then, just the other night, mimiko mentions you’ve been spending your time with a boy at the library, sharing a table as you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop. nanako giggles that you might have finally gotten yourself a boyfriend. mimiko hums and nods as she murmurs it’s about time.

suguru swallows down every bite of dinner with an aftertaste of bile that night.

a boy—a boy? you’ve been skipping coming over to study with the girls (and, by default, seeing him) just to study with some boy? what’s got your attention on the guy so badly? why would you break the routine you’ve had for the last few semesters for someone you just recently met? have you finally started to realize that this is a mistake? is suguru a mistake?

he thinks maybe not, now that you’re back in his bed—but he still has too many unanswered questions. 

“so i’ve heard,” he says lowly, “i’ve also heard there’s a certain boy on your radar.” he smiles bitterly, pulling away from your neck to stare at you with those dark, sharp eyes of his. “a much younger, and fitting match for you, i suppose.”

you roll your eyes, snorting.

“is that what nanako and mimiko have told you? honestly, those two,” you huff fondly, “i told them already. he’s just my partner for a presentation. we’re practicing.”

“oh?” suguru raises a brow—and then he shivers lightly when you lean up and kiss his jaw, eyes fluttering shut at your touch.

“yes,” you giggle, “no need to be jealous of someone half your age, you know.”

“that’s exactly why i’m jealous,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss you softly.

your lips taste like honey—probably sweeter, in fact. they drip with that decadent, saccharine taste of youth. he feels twenty again every time he kisses you, feels not a day older than his glory days.

“oh, you poor thing,” you grin, cupping his face as you scatter kisses along his cheeks and nose, thumb tracing the skin. fuck, is this what it feels like to be in love? it makes him feel so young, so free, and hopeful for the future. when was the last time he felt this way? “have you been losing sleep over my nonexistent college boyfriend?”

“well, kids your age fool around quite a bit,” he says in that father tone that he uses on nanako and mimiko, “what was i supposed to think?”

you’ve heard that tone so many times before; the one where he talks like he knows better, like he’s wiser, like he’s aware of something you’re not. 

girls, make sure you share your location with me—i need to find you in case anything happens. it’s for your own safety, end of discussion.

make sure you watch over your drinks, okay? men these days take every chance they get to spike them when you’re not looking. mimiko, i was your age once, too. i’ve seen this happen plenty.

don’t walk alone in the streets at night. call me. i’ll pick you up—no, nanako, it’s not lame. the streets are dangerous at night. there are creeps, you know.

don’t get into any boy’s cars, girls. you never know what’ll happen; one mistake is all it takes to ruin your life—hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. one day, you’ll understand i’m right.

“i’m not a kid,” you pout, and then, smugly this time, you wiggle your brows. “did’ya lose sleep over my imaginary boyfriend? you need plenty of sleep at your age, y’know.”

“no, you’re not a kid,” suguru agrees, “you’re a brat.” and then he’s back to pressing those hot, open-mouthed, hungry kisses along your jaw, humming in delight when you angle your head to give him better access. 

sometimes, it’s fun to get under suguru’s skin—it’s fun to break that carefully built, mature patience of his, pulling a twitch of his eye and a furrow of his brow from him. so, you grin widely as you murmur, “who knows? maybe he’d fuck better—more stamina, y’know?”

it’s supposed to just tease him, to make him glare at you unimpressed so you can giggle and kiss between his brows—but suguru stills at that, painfully stiff for a moment before he bites at your skin. hard. 

“oh yeah?” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous as he pulls away to glare down at you, “you think so? what, you think an old man like me can’t fuck you long enough?”

you don’t get a chance to reply—not before he pulls your pants down your waist to reveal your soaked panties, pulling a hum from him as he grins at the damp patch of fabric. his fingers circle over your clit for a moment, right over the cloth, making your breath hitch as you buck into his touch. 

“suguru—”

“look at that,” he chuckles, “wearing my favorite one, huh? can’t fuck you that bad if you try your best to impress me. isn’t that what you wanted? is that what you were thinking when you put these on before coming over? how precious,” he murmurs—he speaks so condescending, so knowingly, as if he’s read your mind just by looking at the red lace covering your dripping cunt. you cover your face in humiliation, but he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head, clicking his teeth in disapproval. 

part of you knows you should quit while you can—the other part? well…it wants to test the limits a bit longer. suguru has never been so easy to rile up, you want to indulge in it for just a bit longer if you can help it. 

“well,” you huff, “what’re you waiting for, then? don’t tell me the age has slowed you down—”

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he says in a low snarl, “fine, you want me to hurry up? you got it, princess.”

it all happens before you can even register—one moment, you’re grinning at him with mischief in your eyes; the next second, he has you in nothing but your bra, bare in his bed as he pulls your legs apart and leans close to your pussy.

“you know the thing about guys your age,” he hums, toying with your clit lazily as you gasp with a twitch, “is that they really don’t know how to take care of anyone but themselves. guess they just don’t have enough experience to really figure it out.”

his lips latch onto your clit, sucking before he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud as his fingers sink into your core, pushing past your folds and stretching you open. it’s slow—deliberately so, in fact. it makes your head spin, and your fingers curl into the bed sheets as you pant. 

“suguru, m-more—”

“don’t worry,” he coos, pulling away from you to grin up at your glossy eyes, “you’ll get plenty, baby. we’ll see if you’ve got the stamina. y’know, since you’re so young.”

his lips are back to wrap around your clit, fingers sinking and curling exactly where you’re most sensitive—suguru finds your sweet spots instantly the first time he has you sprawled under him. didn’t even take a moment of trial, just knew where to touch and kiss to have you unravel in his hold. that much still hasn’t changed—his fingertips press against the sensitive spot in the back of your walls, pulling pretty little whines from you as his tongue flicks over your clit. 

it’s always been a blessing that nanako and mimiko’s room is across the house—had they been closer, they might hear the mewl you let out as his fingers bully into you faster, unforgiving as they brush against your walls and build the ache up between your legs until it’s about to burst. 

“s-suguru, ‘m close, so, so close—”

“already?” he gasps, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your clit with a sly grin, “thought you had more in you than that, baby. so youthful—figured you’d last a bit longer.”

he’s mean about it—rubs it in your face some more that you’re so close so fast before he pulls his fingers away and doesn’t even give you the satisfaction of falling apart on his digits. it makes you sob, hips bucking up to chase the friction of his fingers, but he’s already gone, leaving your walls empty and fluttering around nothing.

“no,” your voice breaks, “n-no, so close, please. i want—”

“that’s what he would’ve done,” suguru hums, “pulled out before you even finished. that’s what guys your age always do—they don’t know how to make girls finish. you ever had that problem with me?”

“no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. you’re a pretty little thing, he thinks—pouty, wobbly lips and those glossy eyes as you sniffle. “no, you always make me cum—please, i wanna cum, sugu.”

“yeah?” he pouts with faux sympathy, “didn’t feel good, huh? feels better when i take care of you, doesn’t it?”

“uh huh,” you nod—you’re still panting through the aftershocks of having your orgasm ripped from you, chest rising and falling harsh enough that it fills him with pride he can pull such drastic reactions from you. no one knows your body like suguru—he’s too good at giving it what it wants for anyone else to compare. 

“think that boy—” he spits the last word like it’s poison on his tongue, “—can take care of you?”

“no,” you whimper, “no, he can’t. not like you, never like you.”

“that’s a good girl,” he nods approvingly, rubbing his slick-coated finger over your clit, toying with it teasingly as you writhe, whining for more. “you know something else about men your age? they don’t care to please a woman—don’t bother to appreciate them enough to make them feel good. you think that boy would be here—” he pauses to motion between your legs, where he’s currently situated, “—willingly? taste you willingly? let you cum on his tongue willingly?”

“i-i don’t…i never asked someone to—”

“did you ever ask me?” he interrupts, raising a brow at you, “you ever have to ask me? i just do it. wanna know why? because i know what i’m doing—know how to treat you right, how to give you what you need. isn’t that right?” 

“yes, yes—you always give me what i want—”

“what you need,” he corrects, “and you know what i think you need right now? this.”

his tongue licks a stripe along your entrances before you can say anything else, pulling a gasp out of you as your hands find his hair and tug—suguru groans at that, feels his pants get impossibly tighter as the aching erection he sports throbs between his legs at the way you pull at the strands so desperately, so needy. for him. only ever him. 

his tongue fucks into you, messy with the way he devours you, the slick arousal pooling from your cunt coating his lips, his cheeks, his chin. you moan—and really, it’s almost a squeal—when his fingers are sinking back into you, tongue flicking away at your clit mercilessly as he thrusts his digits in and out of your pussy. you’re close, painfully so, the pressure steadily building and building until you just can’t hold it back anymore. 

“sugu—’m c-cumming. god ‘s so good—feels good,” you babble, thighs closing around his head as his fingers curl into your sweet spot over and over again, not stopping for even a second as he helps you ride out your high. your walls spasm around his fingers, tight as they flutter around him and make him groan at the thought of being inside you. 

he watches, hungry and in awe, as your back arches off the mattress and your mouth parts, broken little wails of his name rolling off your tongue in a sweet melody. 

“i bet he’s never seen someone look like this,” suguru murmurs, watching the way the ecstasy takes over your features as your face falls slack from pleasure, “so pretty when falling apart. bet he’d never even get close to making you look so fucked from just his tongue.”

your orgasm ripples through you—it’s not new, the way he makes you feel so good, but it’s definitely nothing to get used to either. your body slumps back onto the mattress as you finish, panting harshly while he climbs up to hover over you once again. 

“that felt good?” he asks, nosing at your cheek as you nod breathlessly.

“yeah,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“hope you’re not tired out just yet,” he says smugly, eyeing the way sweat clings to your forehead and huffs of air exhale from your lungs with each labored breath, “because we’re nowhere near done, baby. not even close.”

just like that, your bra is unclasped and pulled off, freeing your tits for his mouth to latch onto a nipple, sucking and lightly grazing his teeth along the bud while his fingers tease at the other, pinching and rubbing over it with his thumb. you whine, eyes squeezing shut as your hand cups the back of his head and keeps him in place. 

“bet i could make you cum just from this,” he says with a laugh, “i don’t even need to fuck you.”

“please,” you dig your nails into his shoulder, moaning as he switches to wrap his lips around the other nipple, “please, sugu—n-need more.”

“be more specific,” he says lowly, looking up at you in amusement, “gonna need more than that, princess. you gotta help me out here—i’m afraid i don’t know what i’m doing.”

suguru is doing everything he can to drag this out—if you’d known one small comment would have him riled up like this…well, truthfully, you can’t say you wouldn’t have made it anyway. it’s exciting in its own right when he’s so determined to show you why you need him, why no one else but him is meant to see you like this, make you fall apart like this, have you sprawled under them like this. 

no one can know about you and suguru—not nanako and mimiko, not your other friends, not your family. you know what they’d say, how they’d feel. 

disgust—shame, even. he’s far too old for you, you know they’d say; he’s a red flag for getting with someone so young. no one can know that you come here, dead in the middle of the night when your friends are asleep, and fuck their father. not only that—lay with their father, talk about your hopes and dreams for the future with their father, giggle as you gossip with their father, fall in love with their father. 

something tells you the feeling is not unreciprocated—that suguru feels the same, that he loves holding you in his arms just as much as you love laying in them. maybe it wasn’t a joke, what you’d said. not to him, at least—maybe deep down, it stung; maybe he had something to prove. that boy might be closer to you in age, but he’ll never, ever treat you the way suguru does—no one will, for that matter. perhaps he has to show it so you really know. 

so you look him in the eye, pull him closer until his forehead is pressed against yours and you can press a delicate kiss to his lips before you murmur against them, “fuck me, suguru. please—need you.”

he groans at that, closes his eyes before his hips move to press the thick tip of his cock against your folds, dragging it along your entrance as he coats his head with your slick. it’s flushed a deep pink—it’s been neglected for so long that he shudders at the way it aches, at the way even the slightest friction along the sensitive tip pulls a soft gasp from him. 

for a moment, he wonders if he really will last long enough to fuck you properly—he might not, with the way your walls always squeeze around him, always have him ready to fuck his load into you just as soon as he’s inside you. the thought alone almost makes his cock twitch—but suguru is a man of patience, so he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch, looking down and watching as his girth disappears inside you. 

“look at that,” he coos, grinning wide as he looks back up at you, “took me so easily. ‘s cause when you do it right, it doesn’t take much, does it?”

“f-fuck—” your head presses back against the pillow, mouth hung open as you breathe heavily, trying to squirm and get even the slightest bit of friction from him as he stays painfully still. “move, suguru—please, c-can’t wait anymore. jus’ wanna feel you.”

“i know,” he chuckles, “patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

despite it all, suguru is not feeling very patient anymore—it’s been long enough. his hips roll slowly at first, a shallow thrust of his hips that makes you both moan lowly before he all but pulls out and slams back in, hard. you can feel the burning stretch of his girth practically splitting you open, every thick vein dragging along your cunt and every brush of his tip against the back of your walls. it’s loud—the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sound of his deep groans and your breathless whines, the sound of the headboard hitting the wall as he fucks you into his mattress. 

“god—fuck, suguru—th-there,” you mewl as he slams into you right where you need him. 

you’ve lost count of how many times suguru has fucked you like you’re his. in his bed at night, in his shower in the mornings, on the couch when you drop by when the girls aren’t home, in his car that one time he drove you home when it rained, in your apartment that one time he dropped off your laptop because you forgot it. there’s one common denominator—the way he makes you feel, not just from the way his cock ruts into you, but from the way his fingers tangle with yours, from the way his mouth finds your jaw to kiss, from the way his forehead presses into your shoulder with warmth. 

it’s exciting, maybe. at first, it’s scandalous and a little thrilling in its own right. by now, it’s something much more than that—you don’t think anyone could make you feel the way he does, fuck you like he does, even if they tried. even if they knew where to touch and where to kiss. even if they knew what you liked and what you didn’t. 

they couldn’t be suguru—would never be suguru. 

“there, huh?” he pants, moaning softly as he feels your walls flutter around him tightly, “i know. i know how to fuck this pussy—my pussy. you think some boy you hardly know would know? think he’d care to learn? think he’d even try?”

“no,” you gasp, shaking your head as your hips buck up to meet his sharp thrusts, “no. no one would make me feel this good. make me feel so good, sugu.”

“ngh—sh-shit,” he hisses at your words, cock almost swelling harder at the way you praise him, at the way your words are almost slurred with no real thought behind him. it’s a little pride-inducing, the way you’re still able to sing his praises without having to really think about it first. he can hear it, the way you’re lost in the drag of his cock, drunk in the haze of pleasure, unfocused on everything else besides the way he bullies his thick girth into your abused cunt.

it’s a mess, it’s filthy the way there’s a mix of pre cum and your slick at the base of his cock, along your inner thighs, coating your skin as the squelching sound of him nudging past your folds fills the room.

it’s good, the way he makes you feel—he can hear it in your voice as you wail his name.

“s-suguru—oh.”

“what, you gettin’ all fucked out on me? ‘m not even close yet, princess,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck as he sucks softly into your sweet spot. you throw your head back, rasping out a cry of his name again as his balls slap against your ass with a harsh roll of his hips. 

and then his hand makes its way between your bodies, thumb attaching itself to your clit before rubbing punishing circles into the bundle of nerves—you sob at that, back arching up as your chest presses against his, nipples hard as they brush along his skin.

“s-sugu—close, ‘m gonna cum a-again—so close,” you pant brokenly, every sentence cut off with a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you. 

you’re close—you can’t fight back the way the coil in your belly snaps as he teases your clit. it’s still sensitive from the last orgasm, every nerve still burning up from before as he gives you more, gives you too much, almost. you cum harder this time—your second high creeping up on you when you least expect it. 

it makes your eyes roll back, makes your thighs quiver, and tears stream down your cheeks as you chant his name over and over. suguru, ‘s so good. suguru, ‘m cumming. suguru, ‘s all for you.

every sentence makes his cock drill into you faster, sloppier in rhythm, maybe, but faster. needier. bordering on desperate. 

“f-fuck, baby,” he grunts, “squeezin’ me so tight—such a tight fuckin’ cunt. you think just anyone deserves this? think you can just walk around and let anyone fuck this? ‘s bullshit—ngh.”

you don’t answer—can’t answer, in fact. it’s all teary eyes and soft sniffles as you mewl with every thrust, voice breaking between every pretty little sound you make. he’s still fucking into you, still dragging his cock against those sensitive walls, still bumping against your clit with his navel, still nudging against your sweet spot with his thick, swollen tip. it’s almost too much—it is too much, making you writhe under his body as you try to form the words. 

“‘s t-too much, sugu—c-can’t anymore,” you try, “can’t.”

“what?” he gasps, furrowing his brows in mock confusion, “you’re tappin’ out on me already? but ‘m not even done yet, sweetheart. haven’t even finished yet—don’t tell me you’re already spent. how will you keep up with your little boyfriend’s stamina if you can’t even take an old man like me?”

“c-can’t take anyone but you,” you sob, “jus’ you—only you. promise.”

“yeah? you swear?”

“uh huh. jus’ you, sugu—don’ want anyone else. won’t fuck me the same.”

“atta girl,” he coos, chuckling as he leans down to kiss your jaw, trailing soft pecks until he meets your lips, “that’s what i thought. make sure you don’t forget, okay?”

“fuck, suguru—’m…g-gonna…”

“gonna what? cum? you’re cumming again?” you nod at that—he grins wide, pride settling into the crinkles of his eyes before his thumb rubs harsh circles into your swollen clit once more. he looks pretty like that—hair framing his face, the mix of black and white strands sticking to the damp skin of his forehead. his skin is flushed, abs flexing as he pants over you. sometimes you feel guilty that half of why you come over to visit nanako and mimiko is to fuck suguru—the guilt is quickly extinguished when you see him like this, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his arms barely hold him over you, eyes shut tight as he groans. 

“i-i’m—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you can’t form sentences anymore as you cum—again. not that you really could before that, but now all you can offer is croaked half-syllables and shaky sobs. your walls squeeze around him, tight as they hug around his throbbing cock. 

it takes one, two, three more sloppy rolls of his hips before he lets out at a low, “baby, fuck—’m gonna fill you up. want that? want me to cum in you? make you mine? always been mine, haven’t you?”

“yes, yes—yours, sugu. yours, yours, yours,” you babble, words slurred between breathy moans and broken sobs. “wanna be yours.”

you can feel him—feel the way his cock twitches in you, the way he grinds into you to ride out his high, the way sticky, hot ropes of cum fill your walls, the way he fucks his load deeper into you with every sloppy thrust of his hips. his arms quiver as he holds himself over you—just barely, though. you can hear the way his voice cracks as he gasps your name over and over, as he mutters lowly about how you’re his, how you’ll always only be his. 

“mine,” he grits, “you’re fuckin’ mine—see how you’re suckin’ me in? see how i fit in this pussy like it was made for me? ‘s cause you’re mine.”

his body slumps onto yours as he finishes, head pressed into the crook of your neck as he kisses the skin while you both catch your breaths. you whimper, still sensitive, as he pulls out of you, a soft chuckle falling past his lips as he pulls his head up to look at you and press a kiss to your cheek. 

“so,” he starts, eyes laced with amusement as he takes in the fucked out look on your face, the tears still drying your cheeks, the swollen flush of your bottom lip, “still think you need someone with more stamina? someone who’ll fuck you better—”

“god,” you groan, slapping his shoulder, “will you drop it already? you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“no,” he murmurs, pecking your lips, “still wanna hear it some more.”

“your ego needs a reality check,” you huff as you brush a strand of hair from his forehead, “think i’ve fed it plenty all night.”

“actually, i think you crushed it,” he pouts theatrically, “talking about some asshole who doesn’t care about you right in front of me. after i take such good care of you, too. the girls already think you should date him,” he adds the last part with a slightly bitter roll of his eyes, pulling a giggle out of you.

“they think i don’t know how to talk to men,” you snort, “imagine they knew i was talking to men old enough to be my father.”

“hey,” he clicks his teeth, falling onto the mattress beside you—he pulls you into his chest, letting your cheek rest on his bare skin. it’s so wrong—lying in bed with the father of your best friends. but somehow, suguru feels like the only thing you’ve ever done right. “age is nothing but a number, sweetheart.”

if i have to see the word cock one more time im going to eradicate all humans that have them

do not comment about a part 2 !!!!!!!!!!

#🎃 — kinkteeber !! #teepods.writings #fics. #thirstee! #geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

[lucifer-kane]

Richie’s ep in season two my mans is so hot for his growth let’s go king

#losing our minds when he’s going wild to Taylor swift in his car afterwards #god I can’t believe it took me so long to watch this show it fucks so hard #love a 45 year old man who can grow

[sharlsworld]

walk him like a dog - ʟɴ4 ☆

✿ lando norris x influencer!reader

✿ little lando norris is in love and yn likes to walk him like a dog

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yn posted a story

replies

landonorris cmon love 💔

charles_leclerc Just let him have this one

lilymhe the hand placement??? 👁️👁️

↳ yn you don’t wanna know how many times i tried to move it

hearts4lando this is so cute

alexandrasaintmleux I want what you and lando have

↳ yn don’t even 😭

carlossainz55 JUST DATE ALREADY PLEASE

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landonorris posted a story

replies

maxfewtrell your like her little puppy dog

↳ landonorris idc as long as im hers

yn stop this madness

↳ landonorris you know you like it babe

francisca.cgomes absolutely down bad

↳ landonorris always for her

charles_leclerc No photo credit?

↳ landonorris no you kept call me her little bitch the whole time…

↳ charles_leclerc Did I lie?

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f1wags

liked by landonorris and 383,072 others

f1wags Lando Norris and Yn were see getting cozy on the beach earlier today, what do we think about this? 👀

estiebestie NOT LANDO LIKING THIS 💀💀

yn NO NO NO LET ME TELL ME SOMETHING

⤷ landonorris do tell

⤷ yn ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE I SWEAR

hoeforsainzzz UHM HIS HAND HELLO?

lovely.leclerc friends definitely don’t get that touchy with each other 🫣

⤷ landowantrizz and they definitely don’t look at each other that 🤨

landolovesyn this is the norm for them 😭

beloved.hamilton Stop that’s so cute 🥹

sharls_lerklerk shes the nonchalant, wears the pants in the relationship, in between black swan & white swan, knows she can get whatever she wants out of him gf and he’s the chalant, will do whatever she says, puppy dog, putty in her hand with one look, can never say no, baby girl bf

⤷ yn no 👎🏽🚫🙅🚮

-

daniel3.jpg

liked by maxverstappen1 and 925,082 others

daniel3.jpg to feed your soul

landonorris my girl

⤷ yn no stop

yn delete this now

⤷ landonorris cmon babe you know you want me as bad as i want you

⤷ hearts4lando HELLO? lando norris is the standard

lilymhe what’s that thing doing with me kika and alex’s girl

⤷ francisca.cgomes little lando thinks he can bag our girl 🤣🤣

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux he just doesn’t know when to quit

⤷ yn i know where home is 😘

⤷ charles_leclerc hello??

⤷ alex_albon i can’t do this anymore.

⤷ pierregasly tell me about it

charlesismyman69 HAND PLACEMENT IS EVERYTHINGGGG 🫦

landolovesyn they act like a couple but yn is playing SO HARD to get 😭

ethereal.yn i’m patiently waiting for lando to just hard launch one of these days (im going insane i can’t wait any longer)

⤷ landonorris same

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landonorris

liked by carlossainz55 and 5,924,173 others

landonorris my girl, my girl, my girl ♥️ this one goes out to all you bitches that doubted me, that said i could never get someone as beautiful as yn, that told me to move on, that said i could never get her, to everyone who ever called me lando norizz i hope you bitches are weeping right now.

yn damn

⤷ landonorris you know your blushing right now don’t even

♥︎ by yn

danielricciardo Bro got the girl

⤷ oscarpiastri After 4 years

⤷ carlossainz 4 years of yappin about her

hearts4lando ik lando already bought that ring 😭

⤷ lando.norizz he’s probably had it for a few years now let’s be honest

pierregasly getting freaky on the main?

⤷ landonorris always

landolovesyn MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED 🙏🏽🙏🏽

estiebestie just fell to my knees in the middle of walmart

⤷ landonorris same

littlelandonorris lando norris the man that you are

landowantsrizz the second picture HELLOOO? 😭

⤷ lilac.leclerc the second picture? WHAT ABOUT THE FIRST PICTURE???

sharls_lerklerk i’ve been here since they first met at silverstone 😭

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yn

liked by zendaya and 18,024,795 others

yn my little bitch, forever & always babygirl ♥️

landonorris it’s like your life goal is to make me look like a fan

⤷ yn are you not my little bitch?

⤷ landonorris i’m whatever you want me to be baby

⤷ yn that’s what i thought

lilymhe 🐕🐕🐕

francisca.cgomes can’t believe this man child took my woman

⤷ landonorris I WON

alexandrasaimtmleux so cute…i guess

landonorris damn girl why your feet so sexy 🫦😘🥜🤤🍆🍑

carlossainz55 I thought you two getting together would mean he would finally shut up about you…I thought wrong.

⤷ oscarpiastri You think you have it bad?

ynissocutiepatootie y/n heard “walk em like a dog” once and took it to another level

hoeforsainzzz lando norris is the definition of dedication

landocanrockmyworld i love how she makes him look so tall 😭

ynownsme y/n y/l/n you will always be famous 😭

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#lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 smau #lando norris smau #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #f1 imagine

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

hihi!! idk if ur requests are open so ignore this if they aren't!

reader was cheated on so she goes to simons house for comfort. one thing leads to another and hes saying "i bet he couldn't fuck you like this" while absolutely destroying her

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” Simon grunted as he placed a gentle kiss to your temple. “He’s such a damn fool for what he did.”

You honestly don’t know how you ended up here. One minute you found out your boyfriend of 3 years was cheating on you, and the next you were laying underneath your best friend of 10 years as he completely worshipped you.

You should’ve known better, your boyfriend (well ex-boyfriend now) had so many red flags you’d lost count, but you always tried to see the best in people, never truly realizing just how hurt you could end up because of it.

Simon Riley was the one person in your life who was always your rock, always was there for you, always cared for you when nobody else bothered to. He was the only person you wanted to comfort you tonight.

He welcomed you with open arms like he always did, his hugs able to cure any emotion or ailment you may have. You’d cried your eyes out to him, let out all your frustrations into his chest as he held you close.

You never, never expected to end up kissing him, let alone finding yourself in his bed, being utterly ruined by him later that night. It was everything you never knew you hoped for. After the many years you’d been friends with him, you finally realized that he was the one you’d always wanted to be with.

“I don’t deserve you, Simon. You’re too good for me.” You cried out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix after a particular rough jut of his hips. “I’m so sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“You’ve got that backwards, love.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips before he slotted them against yours. His kiss was gentle, but so full of emotion it had your heart swelling. “I’ve wanted you to be mine since the day I laid eyes on you. I’m a patient man, sweet girl.”

You’d never been fucked like this before, never been worshipped like this. Your body felt weightless, a warm heat spreading throughout your body as Simon’s cock rubbed against your slick walls.

A guttural moan escaped your lips as he increased his pace, the sound of slapping skin filling the room. You felt your high rapidly approaching, as your toes started to curl, and your eyes fluttered shut. He was so fucking good at this.

“Did he make you feel this good, sweetheart?” Simon groaned, his breath fanning over your ear. “I bet he couldn’t fuck you like this, could he?”

You weakly shook your head, your mouth falling open slightly as Simon nipped at your earlobe, his thick length sliding against your walls at a frenzied pace. You’d never felt this full before, this stuffed. It felt like his cock was made just for you.

“That’s what I thought.” He purred, moving to capture your lips in his once more. His tongue darted out, exploring each and every inch of your mouth, committing your taste to memory. “Being so good for me. Can’t believe this is what I’ve been fuckin’ missing out on.”

“Simon.” You chanted, your nails digging crescents into the toned skin of his back. Soft moans and sounds of slapping skin deliciously filling the air as both of you lost yourselves in one another.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Say my name. Let me know how good I’m making you feel.” Simon cooed, his hands lacing with your own above your head as his cock continued to slide in and out of you at a brutal pace. “You are so incredible, love. I should’ve made you mine a long fuckin’ time ago.”

Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, every emotion you were feeling bubbling to the surface. You let your eyes flutter open, your heart skipping a beat as you found Simon looking down at you with complete and utter adoration.

Any self consciousness or self loathing thoughts you may have had before being in your best friend’s arms suddenly vanished, and were now left feeling completely and utterly cherished.

You slipped your hands from Simon’s, and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him impossibly close to you. You never wanted this moment to end. “I’m yours, Simon.”

“That’s right, love. All fuckin’ mine now. I am going to ruin you for any other man, love. Gonna treat you like the princess you are.”

And he fucking did.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #female reader