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prythianpages · 4 months

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Wanna Be Yours | Rhysand x Reader

Rhysand x Reader | When the Night Court and Dawn Court strike a deal, healers in exchange for Illyrian training, you rush at the opportunity to leave your home. You plan to keep a low profile but upon meeting the High Lord of night, your efforts are futile. He takes an instant liking to you and is set on being yours.

warnings: angst, mentions of blood and injury

a/n: This can be read as a stand alone imagine :) but there will be a part two. once again, we have another mini series inspired by a song: I wanna be yours by the Arctic Monkeys. I love when the guy falls in love with the girl first and I feel like it suits Rhys. This takes place before the events of ACOTAR.

The world awakens to a gentle warmth–a tender kiss from dawn. The stars are like a fading dream, bidding their silent farewell and the first tendrils of sunlight emerge, painting the sky in hues of soft pinks and purples. The world seems to hold its breath and so do you.

It’s so beautiful. The way night surrenders to day. The way that no matter how dark it gets, the sun will rise again. It makes you miss home but you don’t miss what waits for you there.

“You don’t belong here.”

You startle and the world tilts beneath your feet. The edge of the terrace offers a daunting view of the Court of Nightmares–a harsh landscape of rocky mountains that seems to promise a swift but unforgiving descent. A hand grasps your arm, pulling you back from the brink, the force spinning you around until you find sanctuary in a pair of strong arms.

As you lift your head, the world regains its focus, but your breath hitches at the sight before you.

A man, heartbreakingly handsome, captures your gaze. He has sun-kissed skin and short dark hair, reminiscent of a raven’s feather, that frames features that seem almost too perfect to be real. Yet, it’s his eyes that draw you in–a shade of blue so deep it borders on violet. Flecks of silver dance within those celestial irises, mirroring the stars that had bid their farewell earlier. His gaze is intense, sparkling with an allure that feels both familiar and bewitching.

“Breathe, darling.”

His voice, a velvet symphony, wraps around you like the answer to a question you hadn’t even fathomed to think of yet–a revelation that ignites a feeling you can’t quite discern but it stirs the deepest recesses of your heart.

Suddenly, you’re pushing away from the male with a deep exhale as a delicate pink that reflects the sky above you flushes your cheeks.

“y/n!”

Your eyes widen at the sound of your name being called.

“y/n.” The male in front of you repeats to himself and you never thought your name would sound so beautiful as it does in this very moment. His lips curl into a knowing smirk.

Alette, your guide, comes into your view. She bends over slightly as her chest heaves and she catches up with her breath. She turns to the male, bowing her head in acknowledgment. “My High Lord.”

All blood drains from your face and your heart skips a beat. High Lord. You just met the High Lord of the Night Court and embarrassingly so. You contemplate whether it’s too late to bow your head or not but the thought of Alette scolding you for not doing it sooner stops you.

“I see you’ve met one of our new healers.” Alette inclines her head toward your sorry state. “I do apologize for her entering your palace without prior clearance.”

Cauldron boil you. You caught a glimpse of him pressing his lips together, as if suppressing something. Perhaps a scowl, frown or smile–you don’t know– because you're swiftly averting your gaze. You’re too scared to move, not wanting to draw more attention to yourself than you already have.

“Forgive me,” you’re saying as you drop to your knees and bow your head. “I didn't mean to trespass. I felt a little suffocated down there and I had no idea this was your home.”

“Where are you from?”

Panic steals your voice and it’s Alette who answers for you.

“She’s one of the few healers that came from Dawn, my High Lord.”

You sense the weight of his gaze upon you, an intensity that envelops you with an almost overwhelming power. Your throat tightens.

“And what of her skill?”

“The best of this year’s cohort.” Alette replies with no hesitation. There’s a subtle fondness in her voice that makes your heart swell with pride. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed.

“You may rise.” It takes a while for you to register that the High Lord is addressing you until Alette is awkwardly clearing her throat. You blink and rise to your feet but keep your gaze low.

“You’re coming with me.”

You lift your gaze, gaping at his back. Does he—No, there’s no way he can know. The High Lord pauses.

He turns his head over his shoulder and looks at you in an expectant manner. You look at Alette, who nods her head at you, so hesitantly, you follow after him. Your heart races as you hear him tell Alette to pack your things because you won’t be staying in the Court of Nightmares anymore.

Velaris, the city of Starlight, is a breathtaking haven nestled within the Night Court. It’s often referred to as the Court of Dreams. It’s a place of ethereal beauty and enchantment. The stark contrast it presents in comparison to the haunting Court of Nightmares leaves you in awe.

But what strikes you the most is the High Lord of the Night Court–the master of duality. In Hewn City, where the air is always thick with tension, he wears a cold, stoic mask and every calculated step he takes echoes the weight of his stern authority and great power. This is the High Lord you’ve heard of. So when he told you, you’d be joining him in the city of his private residence, you were terrified.

It was a short lived fear because the High Lord you’ve heard of is not the High Lord you’ve come to know over the past couple of weeks. In Velaris, he sheds the shroud of shadows and reveals a different side to him. A softer side. A leader built from genuine warmth and kindness.

You’ve come to understand he has a complex role as High Lord of the Night Court. He is a blend that is both harsh and dangerous, yet undeniably beautiful and remarkable, constantly navigating through the delicate balance of power and compassion.

There is one unchanging thread that weaves through both cities. A thread of charismatic arrogance. He carries it effortlessly, employing it in a charming grace. One that he directs skillfully, particularly, when he turns the full force of his charm on you. You’d be lying if you said you were immune to it.

Upon your arrival, the High Lord–or Rhysand as he prefers you to call him– introduced you to the city’s healer. Madja. Though you’ve undergone extensive training in your home court, it felt little compared to the years of experience Madja carried with her, leading her to take you under her wing as her apprentice. You were a fast learner and given the nature of Azriel’s–Rhysand’s spymaster– and Cassian’s –Rhysand’s general commander– jobs, you had a lot of practice and challenges to hone your skills.

A tired yawn escapes from you as you navigate the halls of the infirmary to Madja’s study with the intention of wishing her a goodnight before retiring to your room. Your stops falter when your ears pick up on the distinct voices of Cassian and Azriel and suddenly you’re wide awake.

“–was ambushed by dark forces–”

“–never seen so much blood–”

“–I should make haste then–”

“–he only wants y/n–”

Shadows slink out from the corners, momentarily dimming the faelight in your hand in a silent greeting. The voices, once animated, hush and then cease altogether. Madja is the first to emerge from the study, with Azriel and Cassian trailing behind.

"The High Lord requests your presence.”

Not much can unsettle you, given your role as a healer. You’ve tended to a variety of injuries, seen tremendous amounts of spilled blood and have had to navigate through the sorrow of heartbreaking losses. But this. This feels different. This isn’t just anyone. It’s Rhysand. The male, who despite his shameless flirting, has consistently shown nothing but kindness to you. Though the nature of your relationship is uncertain, the mere thought of him being harmed sends a sharp pang through your chest, an ache that transcends the usual clinical detachment you maintain in your profession.

There’s an urgency in your steps as you approach Rhysand’s weak form on the infirmary bed. His body is extremely pale and shivering. A thick layer of sweat clings to his skin. There’s blood everywhere. On the floor, on the bed. It continues to seep out of the wound at his abdomen.

His lids are heavy, laden with exhaustion but he still manages a weary smile when he spots you. “You’re here,” he breathes in surprise, his words carrying a blend of relief and vulnerability.

“I’m here,” you confirm with a reassuring smile as you brush back the dark tendrils of his hair from his face. Though your touch is gentle, the lines on his face seem to deepen.

The air around you begins to shimmer with a soft, golden light. You cast a keen eye over his abdomen, the golden light dancing around you as you assess the full extent of his injury. The wound is deep and not healing as it should and your nose crinkles as the pungent smell of poison drifts up at you.

Rhysand winces as your healing touch meets his wound. Despite his blood staining your hands, you move with practiced grace, drawing upon the healing energies within you. Each movement is deliberate, an intricate crossing between magic and skill as you strive to counteract the effects of the poison.

Rhysand sucks in a sharp breath. He feels like he is dying but he won’t admit that to you. He doesn’t want to scare you. “It hurts.”

“I know,” you respond, your brows furrowing in concentration. The quicker you work, the less pain he’ll have to endure altogether. “It’s the poison.”

His eyes squeeze shut and his face contorts with agony as you press further into the wound. A strangled whimper escapes from his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you frown, halting your movements. You turn your head toward the double doors, where you know Madja waited in her study despite the late hour, in case you required assistance. “Should I go get Madja instead?”

“No,” his hands weakly grasps yours to keep them from leaving him. “I–I’m okay. I only need you.”

You nod and take a deep breath, urging your powers to continue surging through your bones and veins. Charged with vitality, they embody a tender current, eager to breathe life into every fiber of the recipient’s being. You sense the poison recoiling at your touch, prompting another cry from Rhysand. Though you know the poison will put up a painful fight, there’s a sense of relief as you realize it is one you can win.

“It’s going to feel worse before it gets better,” you say, your eyes darting to your makeshift table. “I don’t have anything for you to bite down onto. I’m sorry.”

“Tell me a story,” he pleads, his voice desperate and raspy. “Anything. Please.”

“Anything?” You say in contemplation, falling into a thoughtful pause as you search your mind for a story to tell.

“When I was a little girl and my parents were separating, my uncle would take me to the countryside,” you begin to share, your voice softening with the weight of the fond memory and in the intimate space between you and Rhysand, a subtle shift occurs.

“It was my favorite place in all of Dawn. The flowers were always in bloom and the grass was tall and green. We would wake up early to watch the sunrise together. Those were the moments where the world felt so still yet so gentle.”

“One night, as the moon gracefully surrendered its space to the emerging sun, I cried. The realization of the sun and moon being eternal strangers gripped my little heart. The sun, in its golden glory, would never know the tender glow of the moon, and the moon, adorned in silver brilliance, would remain untouched by the sun's warm embrace. It made me sad.”

“My uncle, at first, laughed. He teased me, which made me cry harder. He realized the genuine depth of my sorrow and that’s when he shared something with me,” you continue, a nostalgic smile plays on your lips as you recall the moment.

Unbeknownst to you, Rhysand’s gaze warms in the gentle embrace of the shared memory. He’s momentarily distracted from the stabbing pain.

"He told me that the moon's glow is but a reflection of the sun's radiance," you explain, the magic of your tale intertwining with the magic of your healing touch. "How beautiful, he said. That the love of the sun for the moon is so pure that he sets down so that people can admire the beauty of her.”

"I was still sad, holding onto that stubborn desire to witness the sun and moon together. That's when my uncle introduced me to the magic of an eclipse—a rare celestial dance where the sun and moon finally come face to face. When the next one arrived, my uncle whisked me back to the countryside to witness it, and for the first time, I felt such overwhelming joy. Tears welled in my eyes but they were tears of happiness. I didn’t know one could cry tears of joy until that moment.”

Still aglow, your hands continue their delicate work. You observe a subtle relaxation manifesting in the features of Rhysand but there’s a weariness that settles over you. You know all traces of the poison are gone because its toxic essence was absorbed by you in your haste to protect him. It takes its toll on you, wearing you down and leaving you feeling slightly unsteady, but all you care about is him.

The gaping wound on his abdomen gradually yields to your skillful touch, and a peaceful serenity settles over his face. His eyes flutter shut, and in the hushed atmosphere, Rhysand's words pierce through, lingering like a delicate whisper in the air.

"I think I might be in love with you."

The confession tugs at the strings of your heart, urging it to soar, but you swiftly quell the rising emotions. You attribute Rhysand's words to the delirium induced by his pain, knowing he’d forget all about it. You wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot your story as well. You swiftly clean him up and use your magic to replace the bloody sheets with clean ones before taking your leave. Exhaustion tears at your bones and you can only muster a meek smile to Azriel and Cassian, who waited anxiously outside the infirmary doors for an update. You head straight to your room after and collapse onto your bed.

The following night, as you retire to your room from another day of endless work and studying, you find a carefully wrapped gift at your door. There’s no name on it but as you read the note attached, you have an intuitive inkling as to who the thoughtful gifter was.

To the Sun, in your golden glory, may you always feel such overwhelming joy.

A beautiful embellished trinket box lays beneath the wrapping engraved with two cosmic entities–the sun and the moon. As you open the small keepsake, you're greeted by a soft, ethereal glow that radiates from within. It casts a warm and gentle light and you watch as a projection of the moon and sun dance around you before finally converging into a mesmerizing eclipse.

Rhysand's POV

Like clockwork, Rhysand wakes at the break of dawn with the tendrils of a persistent dream lingering in his mind. A dream that has possessed his nights for weeks. As sleep releases its grasp on his eyes, he reluctantly rises from the bed and decides to get ready for the day, knowing that if he tried, he would not be able to fall back asleep.

He navigates through the familiar halls of the Moonstone palace, mindlessly making his way toward one of the terraces. His steps falter.

There, amidst the soft hues of the awakening city below, stands a feminine silhouette–a vision bathed in the tender light of dawn. You. A sense of cautious curiosity courses through him, eclipsing the remnants of his restless dreams. His gaze lingers on you. There's a nuance in your presence, a fine radiance that hints that you are not from here and though he should be concerned over an unannounced visitor in his home, he can’t bring himself to do so.

A subtle flutter dances in his chest. He’s speaking before he could even properly think.

“You don’t belong here.”

You startle and lose your footing. You’re about to fall but before gravity claims its toll, he moves with swift determination. He reaches forward and grasps your arm, pulling you from the dangers of the edge of the terrace and into the safety of his arms instead. You lift your head and a gasp escapes your lips. Your eyes widen as they look up into his.

“Breathe, darling.”

His mind is searching yours with a quiet desperation but all you are thinking about is how devastatingly handsome he is. He doesn’t perceive you as a threat. Yet, there’s something hauntingly familiar about you.

He hears a name being called. Yours. And then it hits him like a sudden gust of wind. You’re the girl from his dreams. The one he’s dreamt of nearly every day this week and as he repeats the name, his lips curve up into a smirk.

He found you and realization dawns upon him like the morning sun. You don’t belong here but not because you’re from a different court. It’s because you belong with him.

a/n: this part came out a lot softer than I thought it would. The quote I used about the sun loving the moon so much came from something I saw on pinterest. I am a sucker for the sun and moon and stars lol

#rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you #acotar rhysand #rhysand imagine #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #acotar fanfiction #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

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Met Gala

a/n Right so because I haven't yet recovered from all the strokes I've suffered from seeing that man slaying so hard. Here is something that hopefully will help. Enjoy and as always all the love is so appreciated!🤍✨

summary: very much self explanatory. Pedro and actress!reader attending met gala.

dress references: option one, two and three because like a true woman I can't pick...

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Talk about life-changing experiences. When you auditioned for The Last Of Us, you never truly believed that you could get it. You were a freshly baked actress who had successful shows in the past, but nothing too explosive. People turned their heads towards you when they just came out, and then you were back to being nothing. Fighting for the spotlight was quite something, and even if you never cared for it much, it was still important for you to do justice to the characters you got to play.

So to say that the whole experience that The Last Of Us brought to you was new and unfamiliar would be an understatement. It was your ultimate breakthrough. The opportunities were flooding in from all directions, and most of the time they included much more than just acting. Yet all the background noise aside, this was where you found your second family. People who were way more than just costars or screen buddies. You often joked with Craig that he had ruined acting for you. That no matter where you went and what you did, you would always be missing the crew of The Last Of Us.

"I still think that it's unfair that we are in separate hotel rooms", Pedro said while trying to set his phone up on the table. You two had flown to New York from different locations. Both of you were occupied with your own projects now, meaning that you haven't seen each other in a couple of weeks. The relationship between you two sparked so quickly that within a day of knowing him, it already felt like Pedro had been a lifelong friend. He was one of those people who just radiated happiness and kindness. One of those people you knew was going to leave an imprint on your life.

"If we were in the same room, I doubt we would make it onto the carpet, P", Pedro couldn't see your face fully. Your phone faced the ceiling as you tried to put on some fake lashes. All Pedro got was a glimpse at your hair full of rollers. And even that was enough to make his heart a little more jittery. Pedro had missed you. More than missed you. You two had been together every day while shooting TLOU. Always laughing. Always talking. Renting a different Airbnb to stay in if you stay in the current location for a longer time. Needing that much more than a cold hotel room. That also meant that the dynamic got rather domestic between the two of you. Waking up with you, having breakfast with you, and driving to set together. No matter where or what you did, you were always together, and that was something that ripped at Pedro's heart on a daily basis now that you two had gone your separate ways to do individual projects.

"I will have a migraine before I send him off. All I've been hearing is Y/N this, Y/N that", Coco, Pedro's stylist and one of your friends now, cut in, making Pedro let out an obnoxious gasp. "That is so not true. How dare you!", he exhaled, placing a hand over his chest offensively. But hearing your laugh on the other side of the phone was all he truly needed; Pedro felt his body at ease. "It's okay, P, separation anxiety or not, I still love you", you moved more in the frame, and Pedro instantly caught your eye. Beautiful as ever as you smiled at him. But he just shook his head, keeping up with the character, "You two are working against me today, mean ladies", before you three burst into a laugh together.

"Is Bella driving with you?", you asked once again while still fidgeting through your makeup bag. "No, they will be going earlier on. Want to avoid the chaos that builds when more people come in", you hummed at his answer. Perfectly understanding it, because the amount of paparazzi at the Met Gala was quite literally a sea. Add celebrity after celebrity climbing the infamous stairs, and you have a recipe for the chaos that is filled with endless flashing and screams. So knowing that they would be there before it all went wild eased your nerves slightly. Just deep down, you wished you could do the same thing. Fearing the moment you would have to step out of the car. What if you tripped? What if something broke? What if you messed up?

As if sensing the worry rising within you, Pedro picked up the conversation once again, "Is someone coming with you?". Pedro was worried as well. Not that much for himself, even if he wasn't a huge fan of events so flashy, but for you. Even in The Last Of Us premieres, he had noticed the way your body would run cold, and anxiety threatened to take over. He was always there to subtly bring you back. Give you something to focus on. Whether it was his hand that would rub patterns on your back, his knee that rested against your shaky leg, or his finger reaching out to playful poke your side so he could take your mind off it.

You hummed, "Yeah, Blake said he'd be there just in case", Pedro nodded his head even if you couldn't see it, satisfied with the answer. Blake was your manager and best friend. Pedro got to meet him more than a couple of times and, in all honesty, liked him. It was that extra layer of calmness that lingered, knowing that someone he also trusted would be there. Someone who had been with you through the years and who knew how to handle things if they suddenly got complicated.

"Are you excited?", you took your phone in your hands, getting a closer look at the man who Coco was fussing over. "To see you? Yes", Pedro chirped, and you rolled your eyes instantly. "You're a shameless flirt. I saw that you painted your nails". Pedro quickly showed both of his middle fingers to the camera, quite literally flipping you off. "Oh, thank you, love", you said, laughing as he quickly lowered his hand as he too realized how it looked.

Pedro was about to speak up when someone called out your name, pulling your attention away from the phone. "I'll have to go", you flashed Pedro a sad smile. "They want to tape my titties", "And I'm not getting behind-the-scenes footage?", Pedro leaned in closer, bringing his phone practically to his face as if he somehow was going to get a better look at what your stylist was going to do. "Pedro…", you laughed as you shook your head. "Will I get to see you putting on your pants?", you teased him back. Not wanting to end the call even if the lady was already waiting for you. Pedro only threw you a sheepish smile. "Who said I'm wearing any?", and once again all you could do was let out yet another laugh.

That was two hours ago, yet it seemed more like a lifetime. "Breathe, before I'll have to drag your past-down body up the stairs", Blake joked, noticing how you were running your hands up and down the fabric of your cover before moving to run your fingers over all the different beads and lace layers. "I'm just nervous", you admitted, looking through the car window. Smiling wasn't the hardest part. Most people would probably think that you're ungrateful for not wanting to go. Many would do anything to attend, but you were never a huge fan of being in the spotlight. All eyes on you sounded more like a nightmare than a dream. The thought itself made your body shiver.

"It'll be okay; pose a little and drink a lot", you rolled your eyes at him. You loved having him by your side. Not understanding why most people hate working with their best friends or family. It was such a liberating feeling knowing that you could trust Blake fully and that when you didn't feel like handling some things, he could easily do it without you since, at times, he knew you even better than you did.

Pedro knew that he was going to be there before you. Coco had told him that you were still in the hotel right before their car took off. He wasn't lying when he said that he was excited to see you. Most of his nervousness was centered around that. He knew that nothing had changed between you. If anything, things were okay, but he would have preferred to see you before the event and have a calm moment together instead of being thrown into madness like this.

He posted like he always did. Knowing well how to capture the attention of the crowd. Flipping the cameras a couple of times to show off his nails, just like he had done with you. Time escaped you in moments like this. It was always hard to tell if you'd been standing in front of the flashing lights for ten minutes or an hour. Your brain only focused on angles and poses, but then the shouting at the bottom of the stairs caught his attention.

Pedro turned to look to the side as you moved to step out of the car. He was sure that people were going to have a blast looking at his reaction afterward, but he couldn't help but look. You two purposely hid your outfits from each other. Well, at the start, you had thought about going matching and even doing the same designer, but you quickly realized that it might raise too many speculations. Pedro couldn't help but smile a proud smile as he watched you glide through the carpet. A goddess. That's what you were in his eyes. No one could come close to you, and sure, you could call him biased, but to him, you were the most beautiful female here tonight.

"Get pictures of Y/N; that's the real diamond of the night", he shouted, moving both of his arms to show you. Making you snap your head toward him. Your cool posing face was quickly replaced by a shy smile as you bit your lip. Of course, he was having a blast showing you off. "Mesmerized and speechless", he muttered to you when you were almost within reach. "Hello, daddy", you whispered as he took hold of your hand, guiding you up the steps leading to him. Pedro tilted his head laughing, saying, "Hello to you, mama". You doubted that you were thinking straight. He looked so good. The slick-back hair. The red color. You were an advocate that pink was the color Pedro owned, but red… Something about the red made all the systems shut down for a split second.

"I understand now why this was hidden from me", Pedro said, moving a step back from you so he could take your whole outfit in. He shook his head, almost in disbelief. "Don't", you warned him, trying to keep a smile off your face. This man knew how to get under your skin. He had made you redder than a tomato, even on set. Complimenting you even if you were in nothing but a baggy shirt with your hair messily pulled back. "Especially when you rolled up looking like this", you glanced down at the black shorts that he was rocking. "Where was my warning that the slutty knee was going to be on display?", but Pedro didn't say anything as he grinned, stepping alongside you. Pulling your body closer to his. His arm curled around your torso. Firmly pressing into the central boning of your dress. You could feel the warmth from his palm seeping into your tummy. He was standing just slightly behind you, but you could still see his outfit.

People were going crazy, and keeping a straight face while you posed was getting harder, especially when all you could hear were people screaming your names as an occasional they look like a couple, they must be dating. Are you together? Are you in love? Flouted around. Oh, he was going to drive you insane, and he knew it. Enjoying every single moment of it.

And even if it seemed almost impossible, Pedro stepped even closer to you and leaned in, pressing a kiss on your exposed shoulder. Your body froze for a moment. The butterflies burst inside you. If you weren't red by now, this definitely send you over the edge. You two were supposed to keep it chill. Not to bring too many eyes your way, but this man had other thoughts. Ever since the production started, people have been talking that the chemistry between you seemed way too good to just be acting. That the touches you two shared or the looks that lingered had to be a disguise for something. But then it would all mellow down as Pedro would be seen as a loving father figure to Bella or Nico. You had to find a balance. A light kiss could be brushed off as a sign of mutual respect. I don't know… mutual something?

But no… At that moment, it seemed like only you were thinking about everyone else's opinions. Pedro kissed your shoulder once before leaning back in to brush at least a couple more feather-like kisses along your skin. "Pedro", you muttered. Moving your hand to rest on his leg, you said, "You'll get us in trouble, you little shit". Your fingertips just about reached the exposed skin of his thigh as you grazed your nails over it. Pedro let out a muffled growl, "And you care?".

You shook your head as a laugh escaped your lips. The PR team was going to rip both of your heads off tomorrow; you were sure of it. But feeling him so close felt good. The smell of him. The way you could feel his breath on your skin. You moved to look up at Pedro, his body reacting to your movements as he lowered his gaze. Your eyes met, and for a heartbeat, you couldn't hear anything; it was just him and you. Pedro leaned in to place a kiss on your temple, and the crowd of paparazzi exploded. There wasn't a second when not even one camera wasn't going off. People were trying to surround you and get pictures of you two from all the different angles.

The screams pierced through your ears, making you take a light step back into Pedro. One of the photographs got way too close, and when the flash finally snapped, you quickly turned your head away from them, shifting towards Pedro's chest. He was quick to lift his palm to cover your eyes as an initial reaction before he stepped in front of you, shielding your body with his. You gave him a little smile as you blinked a couple of times, trying to get the stinging feeling to go away.

"You're okay?", he asked softly, his arms not letting go of your body as he looked around trying to find Blake. He nodded at him the moment he noticed the male approaching. "I'm fine, thank you", you knew that you needed to finish with the pictures and just go up, but being exposed to them all was the last thing on your wishlist. "Come on, let's get…", Pedro was ready to just walk you up, but you quickly took his hand into yours. "Smile", you mumbled quietly as you stepped from behind him, refueling the chaos once more, but this was just how these things worked, and you had to pull through even if you could tell that Pedro was silently fighting this decision you had chosen.

Your hands were trembling when you finally made it up. You had close to no recollection of what you talked about in the handful of interviews that you had. Just thankful to be in a little, private area away from all of the people now, even if you could still hear them all shouting. Not many people lingered here, and for that, you were thankful. Closing your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself a chance to breathe.

"You are too stubborn for your good", you slowly opened your eyes, catching a glimpse of Pedro standing in front of you with a glass of water in hand. "No bubbles?", you joked as you place the glass to your lips. "So your heart would explode and I'd be the main suspect? No, thank you", Pedro shook his head, urging you to drink some more. "Careful, Javier Pena just jumped out", you teased him, and Pedro nudged your shoulder playfully.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look?", he asked you, carefully moving to push a strand of hair behind your ear. You wished your body wasn't as responsive as you felt yet another shiver slip past you. "I think you showed it, detective", you said, tilting your head to the side. Pedro read it as an invitation to press a kiss on your shoulders again. This time, however, he took his time, knowing that the corner he had chosen was far enough for you to stay out of sight. It was like he was painting a picture on your skin, the pattern snaking from shoulder to neck, right behind your ear. You desperately want to run your hands through his hair, but you know that if you messed with it, there would be no going back, so you gently place your hand on the back of his neck. Scraping your nails gently.

"We can't", you remind him, yet you don't pull away. Quite the opposite, bringing him even closer. "I haven't seen my girlfriend in two weeks", Pedro reminded you bluntly, hands now firmly holding onto your waist. "Tiny detail. They don't know you have a girlfriend". The lines had been blurry between the two of you from the start. There was a lot of respect there. Before more romantic scenes, you would always sit down and talk about each other's boundaries. Things one and the other were comfortable doing and not. The communication between the two of you was like no other. It was easy. It was comfortable. It made you feel safe. So when you fell into bed together after a particularly steamy shoot, it didn't surprise you all too much. But even that felt right, and after long conversations, you decided to give it a go. You both had some shit experiences with your past relationships, which made you both pretty weary of long-term commitment, but you were willing to give it a chance, and that was all that mattered.

That had been going on for six months now, and no one besides your managers knew. It was odd telling them even before you told your families, but you needed to have a damage control system ready to go off the moment something slipped up or too many speculations started to linger. And it wasn't that you were scared of people's reactions. Most of them wanted you married already, not to mention the need for you to have kids and finally make Pedro a real daddy. It was all sweet, but you two wanted to do this for yourselves. To enjoy the time together without anyone and their mother trying to dig through your lives and write endless amounts of articles about every move you too took together.

"We need to find Bella", you muttered, pushing lightly onto Pedro's chest. Knowing that you needed to stop him before he lost his cool and you would have to walk around with freshly formed hickeys. Pedro rested his forehead on your shoulder and said, "I asked Blake to look for her", "Well, that makes sense why he's not here, huh", Pedro let out a chuckle even if he shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear innocent.

You quickly smoothed down his coat, straightened his black tie, and pulled at the edges of his shorts. "Alright there, trying to get my pants off so quickly", he said, and you pinched his leg playfully, making him step away from you. "Watch it, Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal or we might just sleep in separate rooms tonight", you said, pointing a warning finger at him. But Pedro didn't seem to feel threatened, as he wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling it closer to him so he could kiss the tip of your finger.

"We both know you won't take away my pleasure of taking that boobie tape off you", that was enough to send you into another fit of laughter. You had no clue why that thing mesmerized him so much, but there hasn't been a time since you started dating him that he hasn't participated in that procedure. "You, sir, are so weird", standing up, and fixing up your clothes, you tugged at the top of your dress to feel a bit more comfortable, "Sure, but you love me, so who are we fooling?", Pedro offered you his hand, which you gladly took, leaning closer into him. "Let's go find our kid before I go grey from all the worrying".

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #javier pena x reader

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enkvyu · 9 months

Text

cicadas fill in the summer silence as you sit at your desk, waiting for class to start. you're vaguely aware of your three classmates seated beside you and perhaps it’s because you're caught in the ambiance of a perfect day, but something like sentimentality seeps in.

“today's the kind of day where i’m reminded how important you guys are to me.”

shoko hums, eye trained on her phone. “you’re reminded?”

“you forgot at some point?” gojo adds.

you groan as getou chuckles, the heartfelt speech dying immediately in your mouth. when he lightly presses you to continue, you wave away his feigned interest.

"but i'm curious!”

you jab your finger in shoko and gojo's direction, and the two ignore you as they continue playing multiplayer snake on their nokia 6610s. "blame those two."

getou grins. "if it’s anything, you mean a lot to me too."

you muffle a smile. "i changed my mind, you're the only one that means anything to me."

"fuck, i lost!" gojo exclaims, sliding back into his chair to throw a fit. "but i never lose, how is this possible? you cheated, shoko!"

"don't be a sore loser, that's even worse than being an ordinary loser."

"i wouldn't have lost if you didn't cheat!"

there's a hard glint in shoko's eye. "does that mean what i think it means?"

gojo leans in. "yes. that means another round."

you look over at them unamused. "any second now, yaga is going to walk into this room and complain our ears off for how noisy you two are being."

shoko yawns and you hear beeping as she plunges into another game. "it’s fine, we’ll know when he gets close enough to hear us anyway. he doesn’t walk, that man stomps down the corridor."

"he’s not the only one that’ll complain about the noise. i might join him in a minute if the two of you won’t shut up, it’s too hot for this." getou joins in, but no one pays him any mind.

"you're going down this time, shoko."

"eat my dust."

you catch gojo sparing shoko a quick glimpse before the starting music plays, and watch with interest as they flicker over to her again.

leaning back, you peer at shoko's screen as her desk was closest to yours, and find that she was once again slithering to victory, gobbling every apple she finds in her way. without a doubt, you were sure she would win.

"gojo," getou sighs. "you're really shit at games."

something bumps into shoko's side and she gives it a quick glance to find that it was gojo's elbow.

"sorry, my arm slipped." he says, but the smirk on his face suggests otherwise.

while shoko is not morally-just enough to condemn cheating, she's oddly passionate about games and thus her desire to win fair and square holds back her anger. she lets the action slide without a counterattack although that doesn't stop her from calling gojo trash.

but when gojo kicks the leg of her chair, causing her to fingers to tremble and miss an apple, she glares at him. "you're playing dirty!"

"i have no idea what you mean." gojo sings. "yes, i'm a point ahead! see what happens when you don't cheat, shoko? i guess that's why you have to do it, otherwise you would just lose lose lose all the time!"

you wince.

shoko clenches her phone harder and closes the point difference in a matter of seconds. but that alone is not enough to settle her irritation.

lifting her foot up, she slams her heel down hard on gojo's ankle and he yelps at the pain. "hey! now you're actually cheating!"

"so you admit i wasn't before!"

gojo doesn't answer and blatantly shoves at shoko's chair. she has to use a hand to steady herself, making her lose another apple and mess up her snake's path. in return, shoko hits gojo's face which presses his glasses in.

"hey!"

"you started this." shoko's victorious smile dims when gojo reaches for her phone and she pulls back just in time. "that's not fair!"

"you're only saying that now?" getou observes.

you look at him. "shouldn't we stop them?"

with gojo stretched out, trying to get shoko's phone, it leaves his stomach vulnerable. shoko rams her fingers into his side and he squeals at the sensation.

shoko yells your name over the chaos. "grab him!"

"getou, you have my back, don't you?" gojo says a second later.

the two of you stand instinctively as your names are called, but you both hover around helplessly. it's only when they say your names again, do you move.

gojo makes one more stretch for shoko's phone as you reach for him, only successfully managing to grab onto one of his wrists. it doesn't hold him back though, he still has his other hand after all, and now getou is beside shoko, hands out ready to tickle her.

shoko giggles slightly when getou's fingers meet their target and it might have been an opening if you hadn't clung onto gojo, pulling him back with your entire weight.

"get off me!" he says to you over his shoulder.

you look back, somewhat confused at your own actions. "no?"

shoko pulls back her arm holding her phone, jamming her elbow into getou's chest. though it doesn't hurt, he steps back anyway. "what are we doing?"

the struggle continues for a few seconds more until the classroom door is pulled to the side with a bang and someone steps through.

the shock of the sudden sound makes shoko loosen her grip and gojo catches that weakness. the tips of his fingers barely grazes her phone and with a final push, and an extension of his infinity, he knocks the phone from her hand.

he knocks the phone from her hand, too hard.

you watch in suspended awe as the object flies across the room in a beautiful arc—

"good morning—"

and hits yaga in the face. it rebounds off his cheek and clatters noisily on the ground. shoko ducks down as the three of you freeze in position, picking up her phone and pocketing it safely.

anger makes yaga's head burn bright red. "who did that?"

calmly, you sit back into your chair and hear the sound echo beside you. without saying a word, the three of you point to gojo.

"yaga! in my defence, shoko was cheating!"

you don't need to look to know yaga had crossed the room and landed a solid fist on gojo's head, his quick cry of pain is alone enough.

yaga fixes his sleeves and clears his throat. "are we ready to start class?"

cicadas chirp from outside your window, and the noise drowns into the bustling hum of a familiar routine. yaga picks up a piece of chalk and turns his back to the class, getou tucks away his bangs from getting in his eyes and shoko yawns into her hand. gojo sinks deeper into his chair, sulking, and you know that even without mentioning your appreciation for them, they could feel it just like how you felt theirs.

it surrounds you like the summer humidity.

dialogue prompt taken from going seventeen episode 61. just some quick silly sashisu + reader stuff because i miss them.

#gojo satoru #getou suguru #ieiri shoko #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sashisu #sss trio #gojo drabble #geto drabble #getou drabble #shoko drabble #gojo fluff #geto fluff #getou fluff #shoko fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x you

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s-4pphics · 1 year

Note

omg i need smut for ballerina reader x tattoo artist ellie

pleaseeeee

hi hon i didn't forget ab u trust me trust me

…. but hi guys🤭 since i finished sotp and this at literally the same time why not post both.... teeeheee

wc;cw: 1.9k😳, MDNI, ellie and reader r both freaks! nasty little harlots, these two are!!, kinda exhibitionism bc car windows, weed, shotgunning(failed), mentions of daddy kink and breeding and face sitting, readers a bimbo but we knew that we love u bae :3, more monologues, cocky ellie, dirty talk, spanking, mult. orgasms and squirting, slight dumbification, titty and pussy slapping mmm, das it

… i wrote this while high soooo if there’s a typo no there’s not! bye yall :p

when ballerina!reader and tattooist!ellie fuck for the first time the world damn near melts from the inside out.

you had finally gotten into the passenger's seat of ellie’s busted up car after she wrapped up your brand-new tat. you asked her multiple times if she was going to kill you in some nearby forest after smoking you out, in which she replied with a sly maybe. it depends on how you act when it hits. her response shook you a bit: you had just scored the lead in the nutcracker and your costume was so pretty, you had to wear it at least once and then she could do whatever she wanted with you as long as she destroyed your guts beforehand! :)

your little tote bag was near your feet on the floor as you hummed along to the rap song blasting through her speakers, lightly bobbing your head. ellie’s—large and veiny and tattooed—hand had been sitting on your upper thigh for the entire ride as she drove in a relaxed position, head resting against the back of her seat. you caught glimpses of her out of the corner of your eye whenever she licked or bit her lips. her small habits made your thighs squeeze together, before she silently pried them back open with her free hand to rest it there again. you wanted her to make you cum so bad you’d pay her extra for it—

“this your place?” she rasped out in shock as she parked in front of your dance academy dorms. damn, she thought. you weren’t kidding, you’re not a stripper.

“uh huh! it’s even prettier inside! marble floors and everything, i love it here so much!” you said with an excited grin that made her smile lightly. such a cutie, she thought.

“huh,” she hummed in acknowledgment. she reached over your lap to pop open her glove box to retrieve the little ziplock baggie filled with green buds and grinder before your eyes widened in shock.

“oh are… um… are we smoking right here? like out in the open?”

“mhm.” she replied blankly before she smirked. “what, is your headmaster gonna come out and give you a spanking or something?”

you wanted her to spank you so bad—

“no! i’m just asking, i’ve never done it outside before!”

“oh yeah? you never done it outside?” she replied silkily while she packed the spoon of the pipe.

you shivered and she caught it and please fuck me right here! i don’t care who sees!—

“i never used one of those before, it’s pretty,” you nodded towards the packed bowl.

“thank you,” she said simply. “lemme show you how to do it.”

after some simple instructions that you haven't payed attention to because her hands were distracting you, you nodded absentmindedly. what the fuck was she talking about again—

“are you even listening?” she said with a raised eyebrow that had a fucking slit in it oh, ohhh you might die—

when you shook your head no, she snorted before she grabbed her lighter from your hand.

“here. watch me.”

you watched closely as she lit the crushed green buds in the bowl, finger over a little hole on the side of the pipe before she lit it and breathed in, exhaling the smoke in a circular little cloud in front of her mouth. she looked back at you with a little see? simple.

she’s so fucking sexy and you’re probably dripping all over her leather seats—

“show me again?” you squeaked out.

she only slightly nodded with a cunning grin as she looked at you before she repeated her previous actions and blew the smoke away from you, handing you the pipe again. you pushed it away from you gently.

“you’re gonna make me smoke all this by myself?”

“i want you to do it for me… like blow it… blow it in my mouth?” you said shyly. your mind was cloudy.

she didn’t say anything, but you could see the pleasant surprise on her face, releasing a light chuckle before she lit the bowl, yet again!, inhaling the smoke and holding it before she gripped for your cheeks with her slightly calloused hand, pulling you so close that your noses were touching. your mouth dropped open on instinct, and slowly exhaled the smoke into your mouth.

you could barely inhale due to the pounding in your head and your chest and your swollen fucking clit—

ellie hardly even cared about you wasting a rip that good. she slowly slipped her tongue into your already open mouth, making you whimper as you wrapped your lips around it, sucking it further into your mouth. she released a satisfied hum that rattled your throat. and speaking of your throat—

she released your cheeks, sliding her large hand down to wrap around it, squeezing the sides and gauging your reaction. you were about to call her daddy, holy fuck, you wanted her fuckin’ kids—

“c’mere.” and fuck, you jumped her bones so quick.

you were finally in her lap and you immediately started grinding on her leg like a cat in heat.

she hurriedly sat the pipe on her dashboard, her free hands quickly taken in yours, bringing them up to your tits as you felt her squeeze them, tossing your head back with a whine.

“yeah? feels fucking good?”

“yeah, yesyesyes—“

you weren’t even high and you were so close to cumming, you couldn’t imagine how crazy you’d be going if you smoked properly. you’d probably be creaming all over her seats and windows by now.

you grinded down harder on her, your clit bumping up against your lavender sweats and her jeans and toned leg and you couldn’t stop crying out and oh, you were gonna cum in your panties—

ellie must’ve sensed it because she dropped her hands from your tits to your hips, mindfully avoiding your freshly wrapped tattoo(she’s such a sweetie, isn’t she?), and pulled you down onto her leg as she lifted it up to press harder against your clit just right and you lost it.

all that tension that built over the last two hours crashed into you as you threw your head allll the back and came inside your sheer little panties. you bounced on her thigh as she held your hips to help you grind out your high. ellie slowly licked up your exposed throat to your chin to your bottom lip before she shoved her tongue into your mouth in a messy, wet kiss. fuck, you were so in love already—

“take these off, baby, c’mon, wanna see,” she said dazed against your mouth, tugging down the waistband of your bottoms. you clumsily rested your weight against her wheel as you leaned back, a loud honk! ringing through the dimly lit, empty lot. it made you both jump and laugh as she wrapped her arm around your back to move you away from it. she used the space between you to pull down your panties and sweats just enough to expose your sopping cunt. she looked like she wanted to tear you apart. she could rip you to shreds if she wanted you’d let her do anything to you—

she didn’t say anything as her thumb rubbed your clit, making you buck your hips up against her hang with a whine.

she dipped two fingers down to your slit that was practically dripping all over her seats, and she hates herself for not bringing her dick with her because, fuuuuck, she would’ve slipped right in—

you felt her fingers push inside with little resistance, her car immediately being filled with both your groans and wet noises of your cunt. your walls squeezed the shit out of her fingers to pull them in closer.

you were a mess: at some point you’d removed your sweatshirt and tee, your tits out, and she was watching you play them, entranced, until you slipped a hand down to where she was inside you, grabbing her wrist to pull out and brought her slicked up fingers to your nipples, rubbing your wetness into your stiff peaks. ellie let out a quiet groan of shiiiit! before she slapped them both, bringing her head forward to suck the wetness from your tits, moaning at the taste of you.

she dropped her hand back down to slip her fingers inside your cunt again, wiggling them around until she pressed up against that one spot that made you see god—

“yeah? right there, baby? like that?”

“ye—aaAhh, el, oh my fuckin’ god your gonna make me cum again!—“

“fuckin’ want it, nasty fucking slut, give it to me, wan’ it all over me.”

your eyes were rolled into your skull, yes im your slut i’m your slut! being the only thing on your mind. your legs were trembling and you were so. fucking. wet. and you couldn’t fucking think about anything other than her her her—

“cum on my fingers so i can take you upstairs and stick my tongue inside you.”

and you died. you’re dead now. you screamed her name out into the car as you squirted all over her arm and jeans and seats and you just kept fucking cumming and ellie swore that she was going to marry you one day!—

you finally started to come down after she slapped your pussy a couple times. your orgasm had felt like it lasted minutes and you almost plopped onto the car floor in exhaustion, but ellie caught you before you could, pulling you back to her chest to connect her mouth with yours in a heavy kiss.

she grabbed your ass in both hands before bringing her hand down in a loud slap! as you moaned in her mouth, and it made her hit you again, harder.

she allowed you to pull back to regain your composure before you said with a pout, “i have to be up at five tomorrow.” it was almost midnight.

she laughed loudly before bringing your panties and pants back up around your waist before helping you put your shirt on before easing you back into the passenger's seat. you missed her warmth already. you grabbed your tote off the floor after carefully placing the discarded pipe and lighter into a small pocket with a soft c’mon before you opened the door to get out. ellie rolled the window down so she could respond.

“wait. you want me to come inside?”

“inside me? yeah.”

she let out a choked laugh before she said, “you’re nasty as fuck, jesus christ.”

“i sure am! now come sit on my face? my roomie’s sleeping so you might have to stick my panties in your mouth just in case!” you said with the brightest grin. “you can wake up me up for rehearsals with your tongue in my pussy, too, if you want!”

oh my fucking god? ellie thought, her eyes glossing over with a hazy look on her face. yeah. i’m making her a fucking housewife.

#ballerina!reader #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #black!oc #black!reader #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x black!reader #amitycat #tattooist!ellie ✎ ᝰ

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queenimmadolla · 6 months

Note

Hey hun, Ive got a horrible chest cold AND im on my period at the same time, so as you can imagine I feel like a dumpster shit fire right now. If its possible could you do a little drabble where Eddie is nursing a sick reader. If not i totally understand I know youve got a lot on your plate atm. Thanks hun, love ya ❤️

happy to drop everything to nurse one of our own back to health 🫡. hope this helps make you feel better!

“I’m dying.” You whined from the mounds of blankets you were surrounded by, with a pathetic sniffle.

“You’re not dying.” Eddie refuted, as he measured out your medicine, pouring the bitter syrupy liquid into the cap you’d have to throw back. He was also trying to hide his grin.

It’s not that Eddie liked it when you were sick, but now that the two of you lived together—in a crappy one bedroom apartment that was the best thing in the world because it was yours—he could nurse you back to health, take care of you. And if you just so happened to be extra cuddly whenever you were sick, that was just a plus.

It was domestic.

Eddie loved living with you, even if you left all the bottom cabinet doors open whenever you retrieved something and he’d bust his knee against them, loved that you were the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes in the morning and the last thing he glimpsed before falling asleep. Loved brushing his teeth in the mirror with you at his side doing the same thing, loved how he had a five minute window to convince you it was a good idea for the two of you to just stay home together instead of parting to go out into the world. Most of all, he loved being able to look up from whatever he was doing, be it planning out future Hellfire sessions or working on a new song or even catching up on his reading, to see you curled into the loveseat, or in the kitchen, hear you humming as you walked down the hall.

Existing around him.

Co-existing with you was something Eddie wanted to do forever. If this was married life, Eddie would be on his knee the second you felt better.

“I’m dying.” You reaffirmed, scowling when Eddie turned around and you caught sight of the yellow–never a good tasting color for medicine–liquid filled measuring cap in Eddie’s large grasp.

“You’re not dying on me, baby. I refuse to let that happen. Now, take your medicine so we can make sure it doesn’t.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, medicine held out to you.

Gingerly, you grasped it and when he reached for the orange juice on your side table, you switched up, “You know what? You’re right. I’m not dying. I feel better already.”

“Drink the medicine,” Eddie smirked, handing you the glass.

“But it’s Prescription.” Your frown deepened, tongue already assaulted by the idea of what it would taste like. Eddie had taken you to the doctor’s yesterday morning and picked up your prescription after so you’d had the pleasure of taking it three times already.

It was a nasty son of bitch.

“Which means you’ll get better faster. Drink.”

You gave him one last glare before downing the medicine like a shot. Your face contorted in disgust and Eddie chuckled as you hurried to take a drink of your orange juice to wash the taste away.

“That’s poison.” You croaked, handing Eddie the juice and empty medicine cup before settling back into your pillows with a pout just as an onslaught of coughs hit you, sending you into a fit you muffled against your inner elbow.

Eddie could hear your chest rattle with them and placed your medicine cup and glass down on the bedside table so he could rub your back.

Once your coughing fit had subsided, you took a couple of shaky breaths before glaring up at him again, “It didn’t work.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and nudged you over, much to your surprise. The bed was littered with your used tissues, some having been coughed into and others containing your snot. Not exactly the place to want to be.

“My poor, sweet, gross baby.” He cooed as he settled in behind you, pulling you right into his chest.

You ignored the gross comment and protested even though you were curling right into him, nose nuzzling against his hoodie covered collar bone, eager for his warmth. Of course you’d gotten sick just as winter settled.

“Eddie! You’re gonna get sick.” A pitiful argument considering you were already settled on him like a cat having found their new lounging spot.

“Oh, I know I am. Who cares? I slept next to you last night and woke up to a hill of your snotty tissues in my face so it’s already in my system. No use in denying myself the love of my life.” You felt his hand drift lower until he was patting your ass cheek. He wasn’t trying to start anything, it was just one of Eddie’s many love gestures. When he’d ask if he could squeeze your ass like it was some sort of stress ball to comfort him—that’s when he was going for it.

“It wouldn’t be in your system if you hadn’t insisted on still sleeping with me last night.” You reminded him and felt him shrug under you in response. You peaked up at him to see him relaxed, one arm propping his head up with the other holding you to him. His eyes were shut and a look of utter content was on his face. It was almost like he’d been the one to take the codeine.

“We didn’t move in together so I can avoid you, this is just some more experience for us. You deal with my morning breath, I deal with having our bed covered in germs when you’re sick.” His hand began to stroke up and down your back and your eyes fluttered shut, the codeine making quick work of your system.

“Why am I the one suffering in both of those scenarios?” You slurred out.

Eddie shook with laughter underneath you, “Shut up and go to sleep. I’ll make you some soup when you wake up, you jerk.”

You did fall asleep. And when you woke up, Eddie insisted on carrying you—because a chest cold apparently meant you couldn’t walk yourself anywhere—to the living room where you watched some television while he did his best to follow a recipe your mother had given him for a homemade soup she’d make whenever you were sick.

And three days later, when you’d made a full recovery, Eddie developed a rattling cough. The ring he’d hidden in a pair of his shoes would just have to wait until you nursed him back to health.

#eddie munson x reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson blurb

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lemonlover1110 · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄

Satoru Gojo

Pairing: designer!Satoru Gojo x model!Reader

Summary: Even though Satoru was bored of dating models, you've caught his eye. He finds himself infatuated with you... And he tends to be a bit extreme

Warnings: Obsessive!Gojo (Sort of Yanderish), Smut, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Spanking, Praising, Creampie, Stalking, Mentions of Gojo stealing dirty laundry, A glimpse of Toji

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Happy to co-host Gojo NSFW Week 2023! Come join us on Twitter!

Satoru Gojo has worked as a fashion designer for nearly a decade. He’s come across many beautiful women, so many that at one point he’s come to stop caring. He isn’t in awe when a woman resembling a goddess steps into the studio. That excitement and that blushing went away a year into the industry. Now that he’s established himself, and his name is distinguished in the industry, the models are the last thing to surprise him.

He’s gone on a couple of dates with the models, as unprofessional as it sounds. There’s undeniable attraction at times and he can’t argue with it. He just goes with what feels right. And it feels right when the only thought in his mind is physical attraction. But he’s come to realize that looks aren’t everything. It actually makes up very little in a relationship. When he finds himself bored out of his mind ten minutes into a date, he discovers that there has to be more than just physical attraction. He pays for dinner, takes them to a hotel to do them, and then swears after the most mediocre sex of his life that he won’t ask someone out again solely based on looks. Yet, he seems to forget once in a while when a drop-dead gorgeous woman steps into the room.

Although everyone in the dating pool seems tedious nowadays. He can’t complain though. He’s let many great women get away, simply because they didn’t meet the beauty standard. He finds himself regretting it everyday, until he lays his eyes on the most beautiful woman before one of his runway shows.

Satoru’s brand in runaway shows is being all-inclusive. Meaning all types of models could walk, as long as they had a convincing enough walk. Yet he’s never thought he’d be personally benefited by it until now. He’s supposed to make sure the show-stopper is perfect on Yukari, the celebrity guest, yet he wants to talk to this new model. At least he’s sure she’s new. He would’ve noticed someone so beautiful before. He walks up to her, a smile on his face.

“Hi.” Satoru greets you, and you smile at him. The makeup artist works on your eyes, so you have them closed. You have no idea who you’re talking to. For all you know it’s the assistant that casted you into the show. Although his voice sounds quite different. “Have you walked for me before?”

“No… This is my first runway show.” You answer. Now you wonder who you’re talking to, and you’re getting nervous at the thought. It must be the designer. And you’re waiting for tips. You weren’t given any instructions on how to walk other than a typical runway walk. So you wait for it patiently, but when you open your eyes, it’s just you and the makeup artist.

“Suguru… What’s her name?” Satoru questions, subtly pointing at you. Suguru doesn’t notice, too focused on making sure Yukari looks perfect since Satoru isn’t doing the proper job. Suguru doesn’t even bother looking around either.

“Stop crushing over some irrelevant model. We have a job to do.” Suguru says. Satoru is about to argue with it, but he knows better. Plus Suguru isn’t exactly wrong. In ten minutes the show starts. “We both know what’ll happen. You’ll ask her out, go on a boring date, then she’s fired. Doubt that this time it’ll be any different.”

“You’re such a bummer.” Satoru answers before he decides to actually focus on his job. As beautiful as you are, you aren’t the reason for his success and wealth. But he’ll get back to you in due time.

After the show you got the best offer in your life. An actual job instead of just a gig. The assistant to the designer went up to you and offered you to become an official model for the brand– An opportunity you couldn’t turn down. You’re doing better than what you expected.

You were asked to go to the studio early in the morning to help the designer. Although it isn’t what you expected from the job, you’re very glad for it. You walk into the studio, looking around. It seems so empty that you wonder if you’re in the right place. Until you spot a man with white hair, who you’re pretty sure is the designer and owner of this place.

“Excuse me…” Your voice comes off as weak as you walk over to him. He smiles, putting his hands in his pockets while he watches you walk over to him. You’re almost a hundred percent sure that he’s Satoru Gojo. “Am I in the right place?”

“You are.” He nods. He says your name, “That’s you, right?”

“Yes.” You smile. You look around at an empty studio. “Will there be any more models coming?”

“I’m working with just you today.” He answers. He thinks of a quick lie so it doesn’t come off as him having a crush and for you to not get uncomfortable, “I do this with our models.”

“Okay… Mr. Gojo… What would you like me to do?” You question.

“First I need you to put on this dress…” Satoru begins to look for this beautiful dress that he had begun only thinking of the beautiful model he had seen. Something that perfectly matches her skin as well as her body shape. “You can start undressing.”

“Oh… Okay…” You answer, feeling awkward and a bit uncomfortable. But this must be common in the modeling industry, so you should get used to it. You begin with your shoes, then your shirt, and then your pants. The place is rather cold, especially when you’re just in your underwear. Satoru finally walks back with the most beautiful dress you’ve seen.

“I think you’re going to have to take off your bra for this too.” He tells you, and you feel your face get warm, but end up reaching behind to unhook your bra. It makes sense since it’s a strapless dress, however, it still feels weird. You unclasp your bra and slide it off.

Satoru stares, even though he shouldn’t. He can’t raise any suspicions, but he’s not doing a great job at that. You begin to put on the dress, and your breasts are once again covered up which he finds shameful. You hold on to the dress, not wanting to pull the zipper up without instructions. He says, “Turn around.”

You do as he says, and he pulls up the zipper of the dress. He orders you to turn around once again, which you do. He looks you up and down, and he holds back from smirking. If this weren’t his first actual conversation with you, he’d have you bent over. He begins to pinch the cloth and put pins through it. “You have similar measurements to a big client of ours.”

“Oh? That’s good to know…” You awkwardly answer. No wonder you were offered a job. Satoru accidentally pinches your skin while he tries to grab the cloth which earns a cry from you. He looks at your face, finally focusing on something other than the dress.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous. Didn’t mean to do that.” He apologizes, rubbing the spot as if to give you comfort. You aren’t sure what to do as you just stand there. You want to talk but he’s so focused and you wouldn’t want to break that concentration. But luckily for you he’s the one that speaks again, “Also the fact that you’re stunning and a new face means we can have you model our clothes all year round. Don’t think we’re just using you to perfect measurements.”

“Aw, thank you.” You smile. Your face feels warm as you take in the compliment. Hearing those words from a handsome man definitely boosts your ego even more. As if it wasn’t big enough before.

Satoru stops. He grabs your hand, and pulls you so you’re forced to walk. He guides you to a platform, and you walk up to it, somewhat knowing what to do. You feel as his eyes stare at your breasts.

“What size are they?” He questions, and you tell him. You innocently think that it’s to adjust any measurements for the client. He focuses on the dress again. All his attention goes to it.

“It’s a beautiful dress.” You comment, and he smirks. You don’t notice it since you look straight ahead. Of course it’s a beautiful dress, you were the inspiration for it.

“It is.”

Work goes well. You don’t have to go very often but you’re still greatly compensated for your time. You don’t see Satoru as often, but when you do, he treats you very well. It makes you feel as if you’re some sort of star. You as well have other gigs which are paying you mediocre money, but slowly you’re saving up your money. And soon enough you might be able to move out of the shoe-box sized apartment you currently reside in.

Also, very early in the morning there’s a knock on your door. You open it and always receive a bouquet of your favorite flowers. You’ve received so many that flowers that haven’t withered yet are thrown out. You don’t have enough space in your apartment for so many flowers. The question of who’s the one sending these flowers has lingered on your mind ever since the first morning you received them.

At first you thought it was your new work-friend. You mentioned what your favorite flowers were to her, and thought maybe she sent them to be nice. But there’s no way she has so much money to send this many flowers.

“Who even sends these anyway?” You ask the delivery man this morning. You inspect the flowers as if they aren’t the same as the dozen others that have been sent. He shrugs. He knows but the person chooses to remain anonymous. “Please– Doesn’t have to be a first name or anything. Like do you know what they look like? Are they tall? Short? Do they have any piercings?”

There’s no answer, very unlucky for you, so you end up slamming the old door of your apartment. You put the flowers down on the counter and walk back to your room. At this point you doubt these are friendship flowers. You want to know who this person is so you can form some sort of relationship with them– Platonic or romantic. They’ve spent this much money on you, so the least they deserve is a friendship.

It strikes you. It must be a neighbor since no one at work knows where you live. You think of all of your neighbors, and immediately know who it is. It must be that Toji guy that lives a couple of doors down. You smile, and decide that you’ll be asking him out. He’s very handsome.

Satoru waits in his car, outside of your apartment complex. Mustering up the courage to go inside and ask you out. It’s weird, but he doesn’t feel as if it’s professional to ask you out at work. He’s done it a million other times with other models, but he feels that for this it’s more appropriate to ask you in a different place. As weird as it is just walking to your apartment with no invitation whatsoever. Asking you out at work is definitely more professional, and way less creepy.

He’s about to exit his car but he sees you walk out. You don’t walk out alone either, you’re with someone else. Someone else that doesn’t bring a smile to Satoru’s face. A tall muscular man with black hair. Satoru’s hands ball up into fists, and there’s this sinking feeling in his stomach. He can’t be jealous…

He exits the car and begins to follow you around, discreetly, when he sees that you aren’t getting in any vehicle. He makes sure to stay a safe distance so if you were to turn around, you wouldn’t see your boss following you. Satoru feels weird for doing this, but he’s lost all common sense. He likes you. He’s infatuated, dare he say. He’s liked many models before but he’s never gone so far as to follow them while they’re out on a date.

Maybe it’s not a date, he tries to think. Maybe the man you’re with is a really great friend of yours. Satoru tries to think that what he’s doing is not so bad with every step he takes. He’s looking out for his model’s wellbeing, that’s all.

You walk into a cheap restaurant with the man, and Satoru takes a deep breath to control himself. Satoru has known you for a month, he can’t be acting so irrational over you. You’re nothing but co-workers. Although that thought makes Satoru boil up inside.

He doesn’t know whether to leave or to stay. He’s frankly seen enough. And he can’t have you spot him in that place. You’d surely quit. Satoru would never go to a place like that. He decides to walk back, as pissed off as he is. He’ll deal with the matter later.

Satoru is usually very sweet with you, but today he seems rather mad. This week has been pretty great with you, and you don’t really need your boss to ruin the week. He’s paying a lot of attention to the other employees… Which is fine, but usually when you’re together he acts as if you’re the only woman around. Which you like.

“Try this on, I finished it.” Satoru says, nearly throwing the dress at you. You’re about to get undressed, but he points to the bathroom. You didn’t even know that was there. You go to the bathroom and get undressed.

You wonder what’s up with him. You’ve seen him mad, at least that’s what you think. He doesn’t usually treat his employees like this, at least not you. You put on the dress that fits just perfectly. It’s seriously the perfect dress for you. Length, size, style and color wise.

You walk out of the bathroom and go to Satoru, who stares at his phone disinterested. He looks up when you’re in front of him, mainly at the dress. You twirl to show him the dress. He looks at it and feels as if there’s a couple finishing touches that are missing. “Stop moving. I need to concentrate.”

So you stop moving while he stares you down. You chew on the inside of your cheek, holding back on asking the question. It kills you inside to not ask. You’re able to keep silent for a couple of minutes before asking, “Mr. Gojo, why are you mad at me?”

“Mad at you?” He questions. It’s not like he’ll openly admit it. He’s not mad at you. He does feel a bit betrayed… But you’re not actually at fault for that because he can’t expect you to stay single all of your life while he musters up the courage to ask you out on a date. But that doesn’t really change his current feelings. “Why do you say I’m mad at you?”

“You’ve been acting weird…” You respond, avoiding eye contact with the man. He looks around the studio for a moment. There’s barely any people around, and they’re focused on their own thing. He just has to get you out of sight…

“You know… I’ve been stressed.” He lies, although could it really be considered a lie if it’s somewhat the truth? He’s been stressed because of you. Not because of work. You feel as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. “I could never be mad at someone so gorgeous.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Gojo…” You answer, tilting your head to give in to his touch. You feel so much better knowing that he’s not mad at you.

“Help me pick out some fabric for a gift. My apology to you.” He says, and you nod. He grabs your hand and begins to walk to the room that’s full of shelves with fabric. Satoru is so nice to you, you can’t help but smile at that. You wonder how many models he does this to. You step into the room with fabrics and he tells you, “Pick out your favorite. I’ll make you a beautiful dress.”

You begin to look at the fabrics, unsure of what to pick. After your first date with Toji, you’re confident all will go well so you’re thinking of something that you can wear to impress the man. A color similar to this one. “Actually, come here for a second.”

You walk back to the man, and he begins to smooth out the dress that you’re wearing. His hands get to the end of the dress, and you don’t watch as his hands rip the end of the dress. You hear as the dress rips and your eyes widen.

“Shit… I have to fix that.” Satoru says. You wonder how that suddenly happened. More than anything you wonder how that happened. “Take off the dress.”

You reach behind to unzip the dress and take it off. You let it slide down to the floor before giving it to Satoru. You stare at the beautiful dress that’s now in Satoru’s hands, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how that happened.”

“Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I’ll fix it.” He says, tossing the dress over his shoulder. You stare at him, unsure of what to do or say. He stares at you as well, but more at your body than anything, “I like that set of underwear. It’s cute.”

“Thank you…” You shyly respond. It feels weird to hear your boss saying that, but at the same time you don’t mind. He’s very handsome.

“Did you pick that out for me?” He begins, and you feel your cheeks get warm. He did infiltrate your mind when you picked it out. You don’t respond quick enough and he grows impatient, “I’d be very flattered if you said yes… But I doubt it, they might be for a boyfriend or something.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You share, and he fights back a smirk. You feel his cold hands land on your waist, while his lips go to your ear.

“How’s a beautiful woman like you single?” He questions, his hands going to your back. You feel as his hands go up to your bra. “Are other men not convincing enough?”

“No…” You answer, the lewd thoughts that run through your mind getting the best of you. A future with your neighbor or the fact that sleeping with your boss could get you fired, are the last thoughts in your mind. Satoru’s lips suddenly land on yours, his lips feeling so soft against yours.

You’re at work, but why does that matter when he’s practically the boss? Your hands go behind his neck, while his tongue enters your mouth. He unclasps your bra and throws it aside, since it’s strapless. His fingers begin to play with your nipples while his tongue presses against yours.

“Satoru…” You whimper when he pulls away from the kiss, his head beginning to leave kisses all over your neck. One hand goes down your torso and into your panties. Your soft moans begin to fill up the room as he begins to play with your clit. He sucks on your neck as well.

He should make this fast before someone needs fabric and walks into the place, but he doesn’t want to. He’s wanted this for over a month, and for a person that doesn’t like to wait, that’s a long time for him. Two fingers run through your folds, getting them wet enough with your slick before he pushes them into your cunt.

“Shit-” You mutter, feeling his long fingers inside of you. You’ve watched him work with his fingers so many times now, but you’ve never thought about how great they’d feel inside of you. He curves them just right as he moves them in and out of you.

“You have to pay some way for the dress you ruined.” Satoru comments when his lips detach themselves from your neck. As if he wasn’t the one who ripped it. His lips land on yours again, muffling out the soft moans that leave your lips while he fingers you.

He manages to hit your sweet spot, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. He’s making you feel so good, and this is his first time with you. He’s gotten his fair share of experience so of course he’s somewhat skilled at this. He pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You’re now moaning much louder as an orgasm builds up.

“It’s so- Good-” You’re almost out of breath. The sound of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy much louder as juices leak. He stares at your face since you have that look. The one he’s been fantasizing about ever since he laid his eyes on you. He could come right in his pants. “Fuck- Fuck–”

You’re slightly moving your hips as your orgasm approaches. It comes in at full force, a loud moan leaving your lips as you come all over his fingers. Your legs feel like jello, but luckily Satoru supports you. He takes his fingers out and brings them up to his lips. He shoves them into his mouth, tasting the sweetness(which is not so sweet) that he had been dreaming about.

“Do you want more… Sir?” You ask him, batting your eyelashes. He takes his fingers out of his mouth, and pushes you against a shelf. Your back hits the shelf and he wonders what he should do. Turn you around or watch your pretty face as you take his dick.

He ends up turning you around, and slightly bending you over while he pulls down his zipper. He pushes your panties to the side and finally gets a good look at your pussy. He bites his bottom lip as he gets his cock out and begins to stroke it. “Do you want more, gorgeous?”

“Yes.” You answer and he smacks your ass. You feel as the tip of his cock runs through your folds. He gets it wet with your juices before he pushes his cock into your cunt. He does it slowly, hoping like this you’ll accommodate faster to the length. He does so with good reason because it’s big. Bigger than what you expected. You’re a moaning mess and he’s not even fully inside of you.

“You’re doing so great, gorgeous.” He praises you. When he’s fully buried inside of you he gives you a couple of seconds to adjust before slowly moving. Satoru is gifted at many things that you knew, but you never thought this would be one. You’ve never thought about Satoru like this because he just seemed… Unattainable.

His cock fills you up so well and it hits every right spot. Your eyes are once again rolling to the back of your head. You feel as his palm strikes your ass and he tells you, “For ruining a perfect dress.” Yet, your mind is not processing it.

He hasn’t fucked you for long enough for you to be turned into a mindless woman. But he’s just doing such a good job. Even the praises that want to leave your lips go unsaid since your brain can’t register any words. You just stick your tongue out as he fucks you.

His thrusts pick up more and more speed. His fingers bury into your hips for support, unintentionally digging his nails into your skin. He’s lost himself in pleasure, finding out that your cunt is way better than what he expected. He sure has thought of this scenario many times, but he never thought it’d be this good.

Your moans are like music to his ears, encouraging him to go faster. You feel as your orgasm approaches, not being able to handle so much at once. His fingers were long, and his dick even longer… Which you aren’t complaining about. Even if you were, the way you’re creaming on his cock would tell on you.

“So fucking good- What a good little pussy.” Satoru praises while ramming into your cunt. He feels you tighten around him while you near your orgasm, and he hisses at the great feeling. He smacks your ass again, and it adds more to your pleasure.

“Oh- I’m gonna-” You begin and before you can even finish the sentence, your second orgasm takes over you. He praises you for doing so well,

“Doing so good, beautiful. You’re taking my cock so well.” He’s so close to finishing as well. His thrusts get slower and get more unregulated. He’s making sure he lasts long just in case this is his last time doing this with you… Which he doubts.

He ends up moaning your name before he cums inside of you. He stays buried deep inside of you until he makes sure every drop ends up inside of you. When he pulls out his cock, he watches his cum drip out for a couple of seconds before he adjusts your panties. He begins to fix himself up.

“Don’t worry about the dress.” He tells you, while you catch your breath. He grabs your bra and tosses it to you. He can’t have you walk out wearing just your underwear… That’s a sight for only him to see. “Pick out the fabric for your new dress while I get you your clothes.”

You can’t do anything other than agree in response. He walks out of the fabric room, fighting back the biggest smirk.

Sneaking into your apartment when you weren’t home, stealing your dirty laundry, getting to know your interests such as the books you read and the movies you watch; trivial stuff such as the shampoo and conditioner you use. He’s done so much in so little time. He’s infatuated. Next thing he has to do is get rid of that bum that you went on a date with then ask you out on a date…

Although asking you out might have to wait. He still fears rejection, and he doesn’t want his perfect muse to leave him.

🏷 @dearsunaa @mykyoon @tojidilfs @b3ast1706 @crispmarshmallow @levismainbabe @matchabluebeiry-for-nanami @nobody289x @galactict3a @nothisispatrick300 @tojianddabisslut @katsuwhore @septembersums @tamaki-jiki @thisbicc @rumi-rants @chloee0x0 @kageyamaslittleroyal20 @dakumarauder @lovemarvel16 @lilithlunas

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prejac-life · 2 months

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I stumbled on your blog, and it's given me clarity. I'm not a prejac, but I am definitely a beta. I started having ED when having sec with my wife. Just couldn't keep it up. Then I couldn't get it up. She'd be begging me to rail her like I used to, and the shame I felt made me spiral deeper. I had this weird feeling, and I realize now that I'm getting turned on by her disappointment, plus getting excited to eneak away to jack off to porn. I only get hard to that now, and only after lots of pumping on my flaccid dicklette. I think about how she has to use a dildo to satisfy herself and what she might think of me. Maybe some resentment, maybe dount about whether I'm attracted. Which I am, but my dick is broken, and I just need to look at porn. I need to feel the humiliation of anticipating her eventually cuckolding me when the dildo isn't enough. I want her to intentionally grt caught and laugh, knowing I won't leave cause I'm broken and weak. I'll try to get better. I'll manage to abstain for a month, but she knows. She knows I can't hold out. Not when she calls me a loser cuck while riding someone else's functional rigid cock. I'm broken and want to sink so deep that her unconditional love turns into looks of disdain, comments of disgust, and genuine humiliating laughter at the joke of a man failing to even masturbate in her house. Sadistic and malicious insults that get more creative to test how much abuse I'm willing to take, until when I beg for what we once had, she tells me this is what I wanted. A real man could have stopped at any time. But I hust kept sinking. Kept breaking myself with every "attempt" to fix it. But the truth is I want to be insignificant, small, frustrated, and crushed by her indifference. She'll loathe me for getting off on her disappointment when this all began, which makes it all the better that she learns to relish torturing me with the reminder she'll never beg for me again--never have a chance with her again, and I have to stay, cause no other woman woulld have a pathetic small-dick wimp like me. I could leave, and she wouldn't give a shit, which is why I won't, because her laughing at me is the only pleasure I get from ruining my marriage and sexual ability.

Beautifully worded. A small glimpse into the beta mind.

If any of this even slightly arouses you, just know you’re already on a slippery slope. And it’s too late to do anything about it 😉😈

#prejac #premature ejaculator

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lynderman · 1 year

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𝘼 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙀𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 (Xavier Thorpe)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Addams!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k+

Date Published: 12/9/22

Synopsis: You’ve always been 2nd place. First place for losers. Attending Nevermore was supposed to change that.

A/N: (I was so confident writing this, and I feel like I went down a rabbit hole because some shit doesn't even make sense. So idk if it’s good or not. It also isn’t proofread 💀)

Part 2

─── �� ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Vi, are you still free after fencing today? I thought I’d take you up on that offer and go down to Jericho to get-“

“Sorry. I told Wednesday I’d meet her in the nightshades library to look for a certain book.” My smile instantly vanished as he said her name. It’s not that I hate her, no. I could never. We’re best friends! Well, as close as best friends could be to Wednesday Addams. I didn’t have a reason to hate her; But I did have more than enough to be jealous. Ever since we were kids she’s always been able to one-up me.

It started with small things like getting better grades in school. Then to committing higher and bigger crimes. And it eventually reached the point where I felt like everyone in the family preferred her to me. Even my own dad! Her precious ‘Uncle Fester’, the only one who made her smile. He made everyone smile though. Every time he came home from one of his jobs, I’d get a pat on the head and Wednesday would get a hug. His niece got more love and affection from him than his own daughter did.

I thought maybe, just maybe when I came to Nevermore I’d be able to fit in. Be my own person! Make my own friends, be someone who I wanted to be. Not living in the shadows of my cousin; Being known as ‘The other Addams?’ Or ‘Wednesdays’ Cousin!’ And I was for a while. For a whole year I was just known as Me. I wasn’t compared to anyone or told to be better. In fact I was great! Fantastic, even.

I’d made captain of the fencing team, like aunt Morticia. I was first chair in almost all my classes. I had friends of my own and was always asked to hang out. People were interested in me. They wanted me for me. Especially Xavier. God, Xavier. He was drop dead gorgeous. His long hair that framed his face so perfectly. His hazel eyes so full of hope and warmth. The smile that was always on his face when I walked up to him or when we hung out. He made me feel so happy and appreciated. Just loved and seen. I would do anything for him because I know he’d do the same for me!

Or so I thought.

The second that Wednesday showed up to Nevermore, any hopes I had of asking him out or just anything suddenly vanished. Like everyone else in my life, I was soon replaced by her darkening and compelling image. He became so infatuated with her. Our afternoon runs were taken away and replaced with him hanging out with her. He sat through and listened to her crazy theories all day and looked at her like she hung the stars herself. The same way he looked at me once.

My fists clenched my bag and I held back the urge to scream on the spot. Now the one time we were both free was taken away by her again? She wasn’t even a nightshade so that isn’t fair. “Have fun with that. I’ll be by the lake if you feel like I’m worth your time today.” My words seemed to get his attention because he finally looked up from his sketchbook. I caught a glimpse and saw it was an another drawing of Wednesday. He opened his mouth to say something but I walked off before he got the chance to. Or cry. Whichever came first at this point.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun shone directly onto my face as I continued to write down the finishing lyrics to my song. My plan for the day was to hang out with Xavier and show him my new music for my violin. He knew I played an instrument but he didn’t know what it was or that I sang. So I thought it’d be a good time to surprise him! But of course my plans were ruined thanks to Wednesday. Again.

Letting out a grunt of frustration, I threw my pen into the lake. “What’d the pen ever do to you?” My attention turned to Xavier’s voice behind me. I listened to the sound of the leaves crunch and stop before he sat down on my blanket beside me. I didn’t ask him to, but I always found it hard to be upset or angry with him. Peering over my shoulder he asked what I’d been writing. “Just some music. I was gonna go back to my dorm and see how it turned out.” He didn’t need to know I wanted him to go back with me.

“Really? Can I see it?” Hesitation filled my body but I still gave him the notebook. His hands flipped through my pages and the words. I prayed to god he didn’t under Latin. “You never told me you write music.” I shrugged and turned back to the lake. “You never bothered to ask.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

We sat at the lake for a while and just talked. It was nice; Feeling like I got my old friend back. The way he laughed at each joke I made and seemed to be genuinely interested in my topics made me realize how hard I’d fallen for him again. “Speaking of hair-“ He reached out to twirl the white strand in my black head of hair between his fingers. “Did you just decide it was a cool fashion statement or something?” I laughed lightly and shook my head.

“No, no. Back in 6th grade I was doing a science experiment, Y’know the one where you dissect frogs right? I was cutting him open and i just electrocuted myself without realizing it. That’s when I found out I’m like my dad. The whole lightning and shit. But I can do this weird thing with weather too where-“ I paused when I realized I was getting off track. “Anyways. I zapped myself and some shit happened with my hair when I did. It was only this piece though.” Laughing I turned the other way and buried my head into my knees. “I’ve tried to dye it back but it never works. All the other kids would make fun of me and say I’d get cancer or go bald. I dunno why though, that doesn’t make sense.”

What didn’t make sense was that I was basically Trauma dumping on Xavier for no reason. All he asked about was my hair and got some sob story in return. There was silence for a moment. I knew I overshared and he’d think I’m just some attention whore. It took me by surprise when he put his hand on mine, making me turn to face him. “I think it’s cool. Makes you stand out.” The blush that spread across my face was inevitable. Like an idiot I asked: “Really?”

A smile broke out in his face as he nodded. “Do you still wanna go to Jericho? The shuttle leaves in about 20 minuets? We can go to the weathervane and maybe check out that new music store?” My stomach was filled to the brim with butterfly’s, warmth spreading throughout it. Play it cool, play it cool. Don’t freak out. Just say that sounds fun. “Yes! Of course. I’d love to.” I mentally face palmed myself with the joy in my voice. It felt like a movie moment. Was this him asking me out on a date? Xavier finally got the balls to be the one to initiate it? No thoughts were going through my mind as my body leaned closer to his, him doing the same.

I could smell his cologne and feel his breath on my face; A mere 6 inches between my lips and his. Just as mine were to meet his, a phone rang. His phone. He blinked and apologized before picking it up.

“Hello? Enid? Since when did you call me? No, I’m not. She was busy so I’m at the lake, hanging out with-“ Xavier paused as Enid’s voice rose over the line, his brows furrowing as she spoke. I couldn’t hear what was going on. “Yeah, sure. Give me 7-8 minuets and I can. The quad or the courtyard? Mhm, sure.” He lowered his phone and hung up. “What’d Enid call about?” Standing up he began to brush himself off. “Wednesday asked her to call me since she doesn’t ‘want to be a slave to technology’. Said something about her finding a new lead on the monster and to meet her in the nightshades library.”

“But didn’t you earlier?” He shook his head. “No, she needed to do something else and talk to someone.” My lips pursed and watched as he grabbed his sketchbook from beside my bag. “Can we uh- rain check on Jericho?” All the butterflies and warmth my stomach were replaced with dread and insect repellent. “Again?” I muttered. “It’s nothing personal, I just need to-“

“No it never is with you is it? I mean do you even care about anyone or anything other than Wednesday?” The words left my mouth before I could process what I said. “Sorry?” Now I was standing up, arms crossed as I spoke. “Sorry? Oh shut up; Stop playing dumb. We both know you’re not so don’t try to bullshit your way out of this.” He took a step closer to me and looked down, irritation and confusion clouding his eyes. “What’re you talking about? What’s this even coming from? Why’re you getting so worked up about us hanging out?” Scoffing I took a step back from him.

“I’m getting worked up about this because you hang out with her all the time and not me! I’m constantly being ditched and put to the side cause you wanna go waste your time who doesn’t give a single fuck about you!”

“Don’t say that. She does but just act-“

“Acts distant and cold? Stand-offish and uninterested? She’s like that with everyone. What makes you think you’re any different to her? Do you think you’re special or some shit? Wednesday’s been like this her entire life and she’s certainly not going to change for some moron of a dude.” Xavier’s face only showed confusion as I spoke. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me you can’t put two and two together? Wednesday Addams; (Y/n) Addams? How many Addams’s in this school do you know? If you named more, I wouldn’t be surprised since you seem to pay attention to everyone else other than me.” “Not everything is about you (Y/n).” He snapped.

“You’re right. It’s not! It’s always about Wednesday. Everything is. It’s always ‘Oh, have you seen Wednesday? I’m looking for her.’ Or ‘Do you wanna see this new drawing of her? It looks better than the last!’ Anything that comes out of your mouth is about her! Have you ever noticed how you put me next to her? Below, If you will. She plays cello and you draw her. I play violin, but you never bothered to ask because you’re too busy talking about how good she sounds. You go with her to Jericho to get coffee while I’m left behind doing schoolwork. Everywhere I go I’m beneath her. I’m compared to her, I’m belittled because I’m not as edgy or mysterious as she is. My family seems to like her more too. My own father loves her more than me! Can you imagine that, Xavier? Having to live in the shadow of your little cousin because she’s so much better than you at everything? I thought the name I made for myself at Nevermore would stick! I’d have my own friends and interests and not be known as the other Addams girl. I thought that I could get away and have shit of my own! BUT NO. I CAN’T.”

The air around me felt chilly and vast, a small breeze inclining as my voice got louder. “But it’s never going to happen. Everyone will always choose her over me. I’ll always be second to her. And it’s not fair. It’s not. I try to hard at everything. Especially when making friends. I’m almost on my knees trying to get people to approach me but she just has to stand and glare at people and suddenly they’re wrapped around her finger. Like you. You’re just another string waiting to be pulled by her; Following and doing what she says like a lost puppy. You look at her with such admiration and longing in your eyes. Maybe if you turned your head the other way and fixed your eyesight, you’d see that’s how I look at you! If you weren’t so fucking blinded by her borderline manipulative tendencies you’d notice I’m the way with you you are with her.”

My hands were moving with immense exaggeration as I spoke. The feeling of static shooting through my veins when I threw them down to my sides in anger. “Look, I’m sorry. Why don’t we talk about this and-“ A short circuit of lighting extended from my fingers when I held my hand up to him. “This isn’t a two way conversation right now. It’s one where you listen to every word I say because that’s all I’ve ever done for you, especially ever since Wednesday’s gotten here-“

Speak of the devil, and she’ll arrive. Looking to my left I could see her standing a few feet away from us. “I think your feelings for Xavier are getting in the way of our goal, (Y/n).” I deadpanned. “Our goal?” She didn’t answer my question, only asking another one in its place.

“How would your father feel if he knew you were letting your emotions get the better of you?”

“Gee, I dunno. Why don’t you ask him since he was with you early in the nightshade’s library!” She said nothing. “He finally shows up after being on the run again and stops to say hi! Not to his daughter, but his niece.”

“It’s not my fault if Fester approached me and not you.”

“It’s never your fault is it? Nothing ever is. You’re just perfect Wednesday who’s above all others. Especially her cousin who’s done everything in her power to help her with her bullshit conspiracies. I’ve been on your side since day one. Believing in your shit when no one else would. And how do you thank me? By stealing the few people I have In my life away from me. Again and again. It’s a never ending cycle. And I never bother to break it because we’re family, Wednesday.” The overwhelming emotion of anger and hatred died down, the slight breeze fading completely. Now it was just cold and quiet. Water began to drop onto my clothes and belongings. When I looked up I realized It was raining; But only on me. As cliché as it sounds, there was a small storm cloud hovering above my head. Hence the weather thing I was telling Xavier about earlier.

“Do you know what you struggle with, (Y/n?).” Laughing, I faced Wednesday again. “No, but I’d love to hear your piercing insight on it!” “You don’t know when to turn your emotions on and off. You let them consume and confuse you. How you’re just a fool with a slow heart; Putting out love for others only to never get any back.” The rain became heavier as she spoke, each drop hitting harder against my face. “I understand that emotions are a foreign concept for you, Wednesday, but you don’t have a right to talk about mine if you don’t have any.” Is what I’d like to have said. But it isn’t. It was more along the lines of:

“Maybe you’re right. I do love too much because no one has ever given me any. I hope that one day you’ll think about all of the love I’ve given you, and maybe feel generous to reciprocate it.” Turning from her I grabbed my bag off the now drenched blanket and sling it over my bag. “The same goes for you, Vi. When you come to your senses and realize that I have and will still do anything to get a small sliver of your validation or time, my dorm room door will be open.” I meant to passive aggressively hand him his sketchbook back, but it was really just me shoving it into his chest. I didn’t dare look back at the two as I literally stormed off into the forest.

The sun still was shining around me even as I made my way back to the courtyard, through the quad, and up to my dorm. The cloud only got bigger when I was alone in my dorm room. Sitting in my shower I thought. Thought about how Wednesdays’ right. Despite ending up with nothing, I’ll still give everyone else everything I’ve never gotten in hopes someone will one day do the same.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#xavier thorpe #x reader #netflix #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe x reader #angst #fanfic #reader insert #wednesday #enid sinclair #xavier thorpe x you

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

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containment • e. jaeger

synopsis: you’re the newest female guard at an all male prison. No one said it’d be easy but you were prepared for anything..except the new inmate on your cell block.

themes: forbidden romance/relationship, prisoner eren, modern au, correctional officer reader (black and fem coded) power play, lots of fantasizing and masturbation, consensual sex, he’s also a heavy switch and minors do not and i cannot stress this e-fucking-nough..interact!

cw:3.5K

📝: I’m up at 3am, letting my insane thoughts win again so please don’t hold this against me if it’s too long or just wild in general but this is just some notes/imagines to what will be a full, multi-part fic eventually, just wanted to mainly focus on the spicy stuff for now.

you were one of the only three female guards to ever work at the state’s all male maximum security prison. A facility notorious for housing some of the county’s most terrifying criminals..naturally, it was said to be no place for a woman and you were subjected to harassment, heckling and sometimes violence but you didn’t allow it to stop your goals. As physically strong as you were stubborn, you didn’t fear them in the slightest.

it was only six months after your assignment to the close containment unit that he was put onto your floor and things began to shift..an inmate by the name of eren jaeger; he was most certainly different from the other convicts you made contact with on a daily basis…

never gives you a hard time, always complied and is always in his cell either drawing or reading. If they didn’t give him time off for good behavior, you didn’t know who would get it. Also was super intelligent.

sort of intimidated the other guards and prisoners because of his eerie silence. They didn’t know why he’d been on a floor like this but act so well behaved. no one ever got on his bad side though..they knew better because he’d remind them why he was locked up in the first place.

has a slick ass mouth and every time you asked what he was there for, his response was “whatever they say I did.”

you didn’t make it your mission to be chummy with the prisoners, but he made the job a bit more tolerable. “good morning, officer (l/n)..” it was how he always greeted you..in addition to a little faint smile and telling you how pretty you were that day, whether barefaced or with some light makeup on and oddly enough, he always knew the scent of your perfume. “I can compliment my favorite guard, can’t I? Is that allowed?” the sarcasm and sweet gestures were something you had grown accustomed to. “You’re as cute as you are dangerous, Jaeger. Too bad for you, they don’t reduce sentences for adorable one liners.” although those words should have meant nothing come from a criminal…

it’s one day, however..when you were seeing him off to library cleanup duty that it went from harmless flirtation to a heated, forbidden love affair. “Not to be gross or anything but I gotta go take a piss, officer. I’ve been holding it since we left the cell.” he had been working diligently without a break for two hours so you’d allow it.

never had to worry about him trying anything as he had seen you take down men twice his size by yourself and even had subdued him once after a fight was incited by somebody else but he didn’t back down. (an ass whooping from you he’d soon never forget).

during that little bathroom break, you accidentally caught a glimpse of what he was working with…down south! You’d try to look away but really couldn’t help yourself. The man was hung like a horse. As a guard, you were to remain professional so the thoughts had to subside.

it was all but inevitable when you’d take him to the rec yard for exercise and you’d watch him do curl ups on the metal bars. His entire muscular back and arms riddled in tattoos; some professional pieces and others by the tip of an ink pen etched in prison. It’d be a huge violation if you’d ever acted on them and to you, that’s what made the fantasy all the more hotter.

on the trip back to finish up his last bit of library work, he utters something to you that made you freeze… “I know you were watching me earlier, officer..in the bathroom. I could feel those pretty little eyes of yours staring. Such a pervert.” Muttering sarcastically because his nasty ass loved the thought! To which you’d call his bluff and ask him so what if you were and he’d double down on it. “Then next time I’ll let you come help.” He always had a witty, smart mouthed comeback for everything.

it was getting harder to deny the sexual tension that was brewing though and as it were only the two of you left, the banter would become more and more risqué. Completely inappropriate and wrong but it felt so right..

“Can I get a good night kiss?” asks it every night when you take him back to his cell, to which you’d only ignore and instead, shove a stick of gum between his lips as a reward for his hard work..it was as close it were going to get for now.

it was when you got home that those disgusting desires could run rampant. In the solitude of your shower or bedroom, you were free to fantasize about this man and all of the things you wanted him to do you. Touching yourself, wishing it were him…a filthy criminal. From pinning your legs back and pumping you full of dick. Slapping, choking and tugging on your hair. Riding his pretty little face as you came all over his tongue. unbeknownst, he felt the same.

truthfully, it couldn’t be helped..watching the plump curvature of your ass sway in those black uniform cargos and your big supple tits tightly stuffed into that grey polo with the prison’s insignia on the left breast pocket every day drove him crazy. Those plump, juicy lips always covered in gloss that he wouldn’t mind shoving his cock between. Holding your head still while he throat fucks you into oblivion. And he just knew that pussy was fat with a mean grip. Many of nights had he lied in this cell, quietly stroking himself to the thought of his favorite guard bouncing on his dick, riding him before he’d take over and fuck up into you..smacking that round ass as he covers it in baby oil.

hearing you cry out his name..telling him how big it is as he forces all nine of those thick inches in you until it fits..just a few of the dozens of scenarios he’d play in his dirty, perverted mind. It had been years since he’d felt the touch of a woman so it was hard to restrain himself. He’d end up biting his sheets a way to gag his moans as his enclosed fist pumped until he’d splatter a giant nut all over his knuckles. Luckily he was alone in here.

when you returned to work a couple days later, that steamy tension had reached its boiling point and during day duty, you couldn’t take anymore. You needed him now! Favor was in your corner because he happened to be caught with cigarettes he smuggled from another inmate, which would have been a big infraction.

but instead, you snuck him off to a nearby closet where he’d become your personal fuck toy for the afternoon in exchange for your silence. It was his own damn fault..violating the rules and looking so damn good all the time. And he didn’t hesitate!

“You can keep a secret, can’t you, officer? I promise I won’t tell if you won’t.” taunting as he forced you back on his thick cock with his shackled hands. He’s made you squirt more times than any man ever has and it had been so long since he’d been in some pussy and especially one this tight so you had to keep him quiet because he was losing his shit. Didn’t hold it against him when he came too quick and..inside of you because you had been waiting a long time for it.

now, it’s become a regular occurrence. You can’t leave him alone and vice versa. Makes sure that no one else give you a hard time ever again and would handle it personally if they did. Guards included..in return you make sure he gets a little more on his commissary or drops him in a few cigarettes or snacks when it’s permitted. Even letting him get extra time outside, just so you could have him to yourself.

Can’t exactly communicate via cell phones so he writes you love letters that he hides in areas around the prisons for you to read when you get home. Full of filthy detail of how he’d be fucking you if he were a free man, how much he adores you and of course, all the trouble the two of you will get into the next time his beloved CO comes into work.

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seoafin · 4 months

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dog days are over | chapter eight

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): gojo word count: ~9.6k

fic masterlist read on ao3

“No need to look so nervous! Loosen up!”

You try your best to smile, despite the nerves bundled in your stomach. “Thank you for inviting me out, Ikeda-san.”

She beams at you, opening the menu in front of her. You stare at her glossy, perfectly shaped nails and the smooth skin of her hands. You remember the softness of them. Still, there is no ring on her finger.

“Please, call me Meiko. And of course! Don’t tell Gojo and Geto, but I’ve always wanted to talk to you.”

Surprised, you say, “Me?”

“The mysterious fourth classmate of Jujutsu High’s 2008 graduating class. I was always so curious about you.” She smiles, and you are drawn to the cherry red of her lipstick. “Especially since those two are notoriously tightlipped about you.”

You’re sure it’s because there’s nothing to talk about when it comes to you.

“I’m not that interesting,” you say politely, because in your opinion, you really aren’t. “I’m sure you weren’t missing much.”

“Is that really what you think?” She leans forward, placing her chin on top of her threaded fingers. “I think you’re plenty interesting.”

Your face warms. Nobody’s ever called you interesting before. You meet her gaze. “Is there something you need, Ike—Meiko-san?”

She laughs. “Please, you’re so formal! No need for the honorific, you’ll make me self conscious. We’re nearly the same age! If I’m being honest, I just wanted to get to know you.”

“Because we have…” you consider her carefully, “a lot in common?”

Once again, she bursts into laughter. It’s not mocking, but amused. “I thought maybe you’d feel a little more comfortable if we had…common ground.”

The common ground being…

Your face flushes with heat. “Is it…” you stare at the plate laid flat in front of you, stomach churning in distress, “obvious?”

You think back to every single semi public interaction with Suguru and Satoru. Maybe someone had caught a glimpse of Suguru’s knuckles brushing against yours, walking a little too close to you to be considered casual acquaintances. Maybe someone had seen Satoru draw you close to him. It hadn’t been discreet. Satoru’s never been discreet. Not enough. And now you’re paying the consequences.

Your palms go sweaty.

“Oh, it seems I’ve worried you,” Meiko looks concerned. “It was just a guess,” she murmurs gently, reaching out for your hand. Your heart starts with a jerk when her hand closes around you. “An inkling if you will. Woman’s intuition?”

They are soft. They smell like peach flavored hand lotion. Relief sweeps through you like a cool balm. “Oh,” you say breathlessly. “Thank god.” It slips out before you can help it.

“It’s rare to see Geto and Gojo so ruffled,” she chuckles. “Geto especially. I can never tell what he’s thinking with that smile of his…I just wanted to tease them a little, you know? Make them sweat.” She studies you, face sobering. “They hold you in the highest regard.”

The she winks, and calls over a server.

She must be a regular here because she easily strikes up a conversation with your server about the new seasonal specials. You then watch in slight awe as she proceeds to order one of every single thing on the menu.

At your expression, she grins. “Instead of deliberating, isn’t it easier to just order the entire menu? That way we can try a little of everything. Besides, my palate gets a little bored with one plate.”

You blink. It strikes you as something Satoru would do. Order every single sweet on a menu to have his pick. The world of jujutsu elites and their bottomless bank accounts is truly something beyond your understanding.

“When Ieiri-san said you were coming to my reception as her plus one, I was surprised,” Meiko says. “I asked Gojo for your availability, and he said you were busy. Honestly,” she huffs, “selfish men are the worst!”

Satoru said you were busy? You wonder if he thought you’d somehow embarrass him and Suguru. Somehow, you can’t fault him. People just don’t seem to like you, and it’s probably your fault. “You wanted me to come?”

“Of course I did.” She makes a face. “Instead I had to deal with that Kumiko. The nerve of her to seat herself at my table! In your seat!”

She scans you, as if to gauge the measure of your outrage. You simply only look at her, unblinking as your mind runs wild with all the possible ways to navigate the rest of this conversation without stepping on any landmines. You're not good at this.

“I wasn’t aware you two were acquainted.”

Meiko’s smile turns tight. “We were briefly homeschooled together. Flower arranging class.” She spits out.

Her face clouds darkly.

You quickly change the subject. “I wonder when the food—”

Meiko’s eyes narrow. “ Wait. Are you acquainted with her?”

“J-Just briefly…”

“That snake,” her fingers fist tightly. “Of course she’d worm her way into your life!” She slams a fist onto the table. You wince. “It’s Geto isn’t it?” She scoffs. “I heard she got stood up by Gojo, but to think she was that shameless—”

“She likes him,” you say, a little more firmly than you intended. A look of surprise paints her face at your sudden boldness. You settle down, embarrassed. “I think…her feelings are genuine,” and it’s wrong to undermine them. The fondness in her eyes is real. You of all people understand her feelings. You love Suguru too.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize weakly.

Meiko exhales deeply. “No, I am. I always get carried away when it comes to her. We’ve always had bad blood between us. I suppose we’ve just never seen the world the same way. It’s always been her dream to be married to an influential man,” her voice turns bitter. “To be a perfect wife. To bear sons with cursed techniques. You could say we were bred for it. Disgusting pigs like that Zenin Naoya are a dime a dozen in jujutsu society. But unlike me, Kumiko was actually born with a powerful cursed technique.” There’s a bitter note to her voice. “What a waste.”

You don’t know what to say to her. You’ve never been good at knowing what to say at the right time. Not like Suguru.

But Meiko continues, “I suppose that’s why it’s a surprise to everyone she’s still not married. A lot of people think it’s because her clan elders are holding out for Gojo.” She snorts. “I guess everyone is expecting him to get married soon too, and have children. Lots of children.” She pauses, “Though I suppose they don’t mind the unmarried part as much as the not-impregnating-women part.” She raises an eyebrow. “They do make quite the pair, don’t they?”

You get the strongest feeling of deja-vu.

Your face warms, looking at anything but Meiko. “I…”

“They work even better together too,” she remarks with a sigh. “Unfortunately, good looks can’t save them from their lousy personalities.” She shoots you a sympathetic look.

L-Lousy personalities…

Clearing her throat, she says, “The Gojo clan elders and higher ups from Fukuouka are convening in Tokyo to try and convince Gojo to get married. To secure the Gojo line.”

You stare at her.

Meiko’s expression gives away to surprise. “You didn’t know?”

“Nobody mentioned it,” you answer truthfully. It clears up a lot of the happenings at the school. Perhaps they had come to Tokyo because Satoru refused to come to them. You knew Satoru’s less than enthusiastic feelings towards the burdens pushed on him by clan politics, such as marriage. A part of you can’t help but wonder if that had spurred Satoru and Suguru’s actions towards you. That and pity you suppose. In your first year, Satoru often used to remark that you seemed like you’d be the type to die alone. He wasn’t wrong.

“The Zenin and Kamo’s want him to take a bride from their own families, but the Gojo clan’s own preference is someone like Sasaki. Someone from a distinguished lineage and a clan that’s not as powerful as one of the big three. They don’t want a strong clan interfering in interfamily politics. It’s all terribly political.” She makes a face. “They want him to consider mistresses from other families too. He’s not the only one. Geto’s been fielding all kind of offers too. His cursed technique is too valuable, and the Zenin’s have always been greedy.”

Of course the Gojo clan would want someone as delicate and refined as Sasaki. She’s beautiful, talented, and holds a revered cursed technique. It would be easy to fall in love with her, if the way Suguru talks highly of her means anything.

You try to process the rest of the information, but all you can think of is marriage, marriage, marriage. Your head is spinning. Had your parents’ marriage been rife with such difficulties? This can’t be normal. You are confronted by the realization that the day Satoru and Suguru get married might be closer than you think. It throws your thoughts into disarray. All this time you’ve been unaware of the specifics and complexities of jujutsu society as it pertains to someone of Satoru and Suguru’s positions. They’ve never confided in you, and you think it’s for good reason. You’ve been so caught up in your own head that it never occurred to you that they might be troubled too. What a friend you’ve been lately.

Spirits dampening, you lower your gaze. “Is…that right…”

Luckily, you’re saved from a more coherent answer because the food comes. A line of waiters approach your table. Twelve plates, large and small, are set down in quick succession. You stare at the colorful array of dishes. Another waiter makes an appearance with a bottle of expensive looking wine, pouring the two of you a glass.

Meiko loads food onto your plate. “Eat up! You seem like you could use a good meal.”

“Thank you…” Eating saves you the trouble of having to speak when you don’t have the words. It’s easy. The food is delicious.”

“This is the restaurant that catered my food during the reception,” Meiko says, taking a bite of her ricotta peach salad. “I hope you enjoyed the food, then and now.”

“It’s delicious,” you admit with a smile. “Thank you for bringing me.”

A wide smile hangs on her face. “Of course! It was a terrible night, but it might have been a little better if you had been there.”

A warm flush creeps into your face. “I would’ve liked to have met you too,” you say shyly, hesitantly. You like Meiko, you think. It’s easy to like her, with her bold personality. There's a frankness to her that reminds you of Shoko. A familiarity. You wonder what she sees in you. You wonder if your night would’ve been different had you met her instead of Hideo.

You’re thoughtful. “You didn’t seem very happy at your wedding.” The words come out before you can stop it.

Meiko goes quiet. You quickly move to retract your statement, realizing it was insensitive of you to say something. “I’m so—”

Meiko lifts her wine to her lips and slams it down, emptied. “I didn’t want to get married. Not then, not ever. I thought my father had given up on it, after I scared the fifth suitor away.” She takes the bottle and nearly fills her glass to the brim. “Only to find out my father had given away my hand without my knowledge when I came back from visiting my mother in Hokkaido.” She takes a long drink. “To a politician of all people! It was horrible. I threw a fit, hoping to convince my father. You can imagine how well that went.”

You can’t imagine being unknowingly married, bound to spending the rest of your life with a stranger. It feels like the puzzle pieces are slowly coming together. Meiko’s sour expression throughout the entire reception. Shoko’s comment about the unwilling bride. You can’t do anything but commiserate with her in silence.

“My father said he’d be willing to break off talks if…” she trails off, looking vaguely uncomfortable for the first time since the evening started. “At the time, I hadn’t realized those two were into women.”

You nearly choke with laughter.

It’s an understandable mistake. The nature of Satoru and Suguru’s relationship have always raised eyebrows. They’ve never hidden it. It’s a truth, never presumed, never spoken, lest it be true. Or spreads. Satoru and Suguru have always enjoyed making people uncomfortable to an almost sadistic extent. You’ve seen people squirm in their seats beneath Suguru’s pleasant smile, Satoru’s creeping menacing grin.

Meiko looks amused now, eyeing you with an understanding you don’t quite get. “My mistake.”

You sober. “The reception…”

“He spent the entire time with Gojo and Geto, trying to worm his way into their good graces. He has ambitions, you see.” A mirthless smile. “He wants to be prime minister of Japan one day, and everyone knows it’s Gojo’s vote that matters the most when it comes to selecting the political face of Japan, and my father already has very strong ties to the current Kamo head.”

Oh you knew that. Upon watching a political debate with Shoko in the common lounge your first year of jujutsu tech, Satoru had taken up all the space on the couch with wide legs, eaten all your popcorn, and watching the current prime minister’s effective response to the burgeoning inflation, had commented that it was an aggressive policy for the mild and meek man who had cowered in the face of him and the Zenin and Kamo heads.

Shoko and Suguru had simply looked at him until Satoru shrugged and said that between the current prime minister and his former opponent, personally, he had flipped a coin before casting his vote. Suguru gawked at him, and had spent the rest of the week questioning the legitimacy of the political institutions in Japan.

To this day, you’re unsure of whether or not Satoru was joking.

Sometimes, the thought that the fate of your nation rests in Satoru’s hands makes you a little uneasy.

You try not to think about it often.

She snorts. “It wasn’t as bad as our first night.”

You straighten immediately.

“He didn’t touch me,” she clears up quickly. “Or force me, if that’s what you think. He slept on the couch actually.” Her face goes thoughtful. “It’s more than you can say of a lot of men in jujutsu society,” she completes darkly.

Relief shoots through you. “If you ever need help…” This time, it’s your turn to squeeze her hands reassuringly. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

Meiko looks touched. “You’d help me?”

“I’m not all that impressive,” you respond truthfully, a little embarrassed at your bold proclamation with nothing but intent to back it up. You aren’t in a position of any strength to be promising easy help. But you’d do anything you could. “But I’m sure I could ask Satoru and Suguru to help if necessary too.” And if whatever you could meant pleading to Satoru and Suguru on the behalf of someone else, you wouldn’t even have to think about it.

“Satoru and Suguru are good people,” despite the opinions of others. Despite…what Meiko may think. They are, you know it. You’re sure they’d intervene if needed, not because you asked.

She sniffs. You look at her in alarm. Then you realize the bottle of wine is empty.

“I’m sure…” she swallows, eyebrows furrowing as she tries to piece together her sentence. “I’m sure they’d do anything, if you asked them.”

You’re sure she’s just flattering you, so you smile, and motion for the waitress before Meiko can order another bottle. You hope she doesn’t cry. A pretty, crying woman would have you flying into a panic. You prepare yourself to call Shoko for advice just in case, although for crying women matters Suguru would probably be your first choice.

The bill is placed. You figure you should pay since she took the liberty of inviting you out in the first place, but there’s a black card in her hand before you can even blink. The waitress smoothly takes it, just as Meiko’s fist slams down onto the table.

“They don’t deserve you!” She exclaims, drawing stares from other tables. “You’re too good for them!”

The server hurriedly rushes away, presumably to quickly check you two out.

Your server returns with Meiko’s card and helps you collect her. Luckily, she’s not drunk enough to be immobile, but she tilts precariously as you two walk her outside. The weight of her body leaning on yours is almost pleasant. She must be a lightweight. Like Satoru. You don’t mind it. It reminds you of the time you had had to drag Satoru to his room after he mistook Shoko’s flask of alcohol for apple juice. Outside, a sleek black car awaits.

“Meiko,” you say, “would you like to stay at my apartment tonight?”

Her voice is small as she hides her face in the crook of your neck. Your heart nervously starts in your chest. “...Do you mind?”

You manage a smile. “Not at all.”

The driver (the same driver from before you recognize), a kind looking middle aged man, takes Meiko as you thank the waitress. When the two of you are seated, Meiko slurs to him that she’ll be following you home tonight. You tell him your address.

When you arrive, the driver does a double take at your apartment building. Meiko sobers up enough to be able to walk up the three flights of stairs to your apartment by herself so she shoos the driver away as you promise to take care of her.

“Go,” you call as you open the door. “I’m home.”

Go is seated in front of the door, above the platform of the genkan, as if he’s been waiting for you, tail excitedly flicking from side to side on the floor as he regards you.

“Wow,” Meiko says. “That’s a beautiful cat.”

Pride blooms in your chest at her words. Go’s grown big enough to nearly encompass the length of your arms. You wonder if he’ll ever stop growing, but you don’t mind. More of him to hug and pet. You love him regardless.

After taking off her heels, Meiko clambers to her knees and immediately starts petting Go. You can hear Go’s pleased purr as Meiko showers him with bellyrubs.

When she finally pulls away, you lead her through the living room and then into your room, Go following beside your ankles.

“You can take my bed.” Meiko opens her mouth to argue. “I insist.” You’re no stranger to sleeping on the couch anyway. And having Go next to you made things substantially better. You leave to the kitchen to get her a glass of water.

Clutching a tall glass of water, you return to your room to see the top dresser of your drawer opened, and a white envelope in Meiko’s hand.

“O-oh,” you say quickly, placing the glass of water down on your desk. “That’s…”

“Did you write all of these?” Meiko places the envelope back down at the top of the stack in your drawer. You had momentarily moved the letters there until you could finish Satoru’s latest one to ensure all the postage was up to date. His birthday was coming soon after all. But you couldn’t risk the letters being seen by any of the recipients. Your letters weren’t meant for them—not as long as you were alive.

With Satoru's tendency to snoop through your things, their usual home was in a shoebox inside a bigger storage container underneath your bed, covered with spare blankets. You hadn’t been expecting visitors.

Meiko gestures to three stacks of letters, each stack addressed to a different person.

“Three every year,” you reply, with a small smile, closing the drawer. She must have seen Satoru’s name written on the envelope. You’re relieved when she doesn’t say anything else, only gazing at the picture frames on top of your dresser.

“Your apartment,” her voice is quiet, “is very empty.”

“I’m not good at decorating. I’ve never had a lot of things.”

“The unsentimental type, huh.”

Meiko raises her hand, as if to examine the picture of Shoko on your desk, but then drops it. You open the covers for her. It’s easy to see how tired she is, the darkness of the night casting shadows on her face that make her expression muted. You should let her get rest.

Slowly, she gets into your bed.

“I wanted to enroll into jujustu high,” her voice is barely a whisper, covers pulled to her chin. “My father said my cursed technique wouldn’t amount to much as a jujutsu sorcerer. That I’d be killed on my first mission. I wanted—” her voice warbles, and you worry she might cry. “I could’ve been an auxiliary manager.”

Hesitantly, you reach out and pat her hair. You like it when Shoko pats your hair.

She blinks slowly, before her eyes close. A few seconds later, Meiko is peacefully sleeping in your bed. You exhale, relieved that sleep had come to her easily.

Freedom. It’s easy to take it for granted. Despite everything in your life, at least you had that. You could quit being a jujutsu sorcerer, move to the mountains unaccounted for, and live the rest of your life surrounded by rocks. There would be no great impact on jujutsu society. You’d be a fading memory at best.

You’re still thinking about it when, settled on the couch, with Go in your lap as you brush his fur, someone knocks on your door.

At this hour?

You set Go and the brush down, walking over to the genkan. You open the door.

A tall, slightly disheveled man greets you. From what you can make out in the sparse light coming from the small lamp of your living room, he’s nicely dressed, in an expensive looking suit, but his tie is loose around his neck in a way that reminds you of drunk businessmen splayed out in the streets awaiting the trains to open.

“Is Ikeda-san inside?” He asks sharply. You try to make out his face, but the darkness encroaches on his face, creating shadows. Your eyesight is going bad. Too many late nights in the archives.

“She’s sleeping—”

You immediately move to block him from coming in when he takes a step forward. Go hisses from in between your ankles.

“I’m her husband,” he says, in a tone that leaves little room for argument. “I’m here to retrieve my wife.” After a slight pause, as if remembering to be courteous, he dips his head. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Of course.” You meet his gaze. “Though I don’t think it’s wise to move her now. Like I said before, she’s sleeping.” You don’t share that she had been drinking.

You think you imagine the flicker of displeasure on his face, but then his face is smoothly dispassionate. “It’s only proper that she should rest at home.”

You don’t move.

“If I’m being honest, I don’t feel comfortable letting her go home with you.” Not in her current condition.

“Forgive me,” he says. “But my relationship with Ikeda-san doesn’t pertain to you. It’s a separate matter altogether. I simply want her to rest at home.” In other words: it’s none of your business.

A politician through and through, you think. Despite the fact that this straitlaced man seems to be the very opposite of smiles and fake goodwill.

It’s not. Your business. But you don’t think you can let her go home, not in good conscience. You wonder if this means making enemies with the future prime minister of Japan. Well, there wasn’t much he could do even if he wanted to retaliate.

“I’m sorry,” you say firmly. “I’ll take care of Ikeda-san until the morning. I may not look like it but I’m also a jujutsu sorcerer. A Grade One. I’m more than capable of watching over her.”

You leave out the part where your own missions have been on the backburner as of late. You’re sure Yaga-sensei is being considerate after what happened in Nagoya. You mentally thank Satoru and Suguru for all their hard work.

Surprise on his face. “You’re a jujutsu sorcerer?”

Y-yes… “I am.”

His fingers curl, unhappy. You can tell he’s hesitant. You understand it, but you already decided you wouldn’t let Meiko go home. It’s not something you’ll budge on. You’ll stand your ground.

“Then I leave her in your care,” he says curtly, straightening. He bows his head and you bow back. Then he’s gone, leaving you wondering if you imagined the entire interaction. You stare at your empty doorway until Go meows.

You close the door and sigh, sitting down on the elevated floor connected to the genkan as you scratch Go’s ear.

“Do you think the future prime minister of Japan hates me?”

He bumps his head into your thigh. You sigh again, picking him up as you stand. Like he said, it’s beyond you to assume their relationship, a nobody like you. Go immediately rolls onto his back in your arms, paws kicking up, nuzzling into you.

At least Go would never hate you.

You tread back to the couch, and put on a documentary about African meerkats. Go doesn’t take his eyes off the screen, entranced by the slim animals and their dietary habits. You eventually doze off.

—

You wake up to the sound of eggs sizzling and the smell of breakfast. You blink, cold winter sunlight streaming in through the window. You sit up.

“Good morning,” Meiko says. “I’m making breakfast.”

You look at her.

She snorts. “What, did you think a rich girl like me couldn’t cook? I lived by myself in college, you know. No servants at all.” Meiko must mistake your blank eyed stare for something more because she hastily says, “O-on the weekdays anyway.”

You didn’t know you had food in your fridge.

“I went to the grocery store around the block,” she says, answering your unspoken question. “What do you live on? All you had was cat food in the fridge!” She opens a cabinet and points. “And this huge jar of sugar!”

“Satoru’s,” you answer. Meiko looks even more confused.

You yawn. Go is already awake on your lap, awaiting his breakfast no doubt. “There were some eggs…” Leftovers from the groceries Shoko had bought you a week prior.

“I can’t believe you…” She shakes her head, muttering something along the lines of ‘hopeless,’ before shooing you into the bathroom to wash.

After a quick stop to the bathroom, you feed Go and take a seat. Meiko puts a plate of eggs, bacon and sausage, and buttered toast in front of you.

“You didn’t have to.” You stare at the food. When was the last time you had breakfast in your apartment out of ingredients that had been bought?

“It’s the least I could do,” she sounds exasperated. “I can’t believe you let me take your bed!”

You feed Go a leftover piece of raw bacon which he gratefully accepts, nudging into your hand. “As long as you were comfortable.”

She huffs, and you thank her for the meal. The two of you eat in brief silence.

“Have you ever wondered what you’d be if you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer?” Meiko asks suddenly, spearing a sausage with her fork. “Like if you had never known curses existed.”

You wonder where this is coming from.

“Not really,” you admit slowly, staring at your plate of food. “It’s not like it would have ever made a difference. It was also highly probable I’d be killed during a mission anyway.” No need to think about the possibilities, no point in contemplating the path of your life unless you were debating the merits of suicide.

“Oh. That’s morbid.” Then she says, “Do you still think that?”

You think about your last missions, and the last time you had a close call with death. It could be tomorrow, it could be next year. You suppose that’s always been the inevitable reality for you. Who would you be if not a jujutsu sorcerer? You had little to no experience of life outside the world of jujustu sorcery. No other friends. No family. “I do. I don’t even know if I’ll survive to the next year,” you say plainly.

“What if you do survive?” She presses. “What if you don’t die? Next year, the year after the next…What would retirement look like for you?”

You consider it. It’s a difficult question. It must show on your face because Meiko laughs as if she’s torn whether to be amused or sympathetic. “Is it really that hard?”

“I would move somewhere peaceful,” you say slowly. “The countryside. Maybe somewhere along the coast, near the beach.” You’d like that. Somewhere aligned with nature. Somewhere where you could watch the sunrise and the sunset. Somewhere, where the stars are visible.

“By yourself?”

“By myself.” You would live in solitude, once again, content knowing Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko were living happily. Nobody would ever hurt you again. Go headbutts your ankle. Your lips curl, leaning down to pet him. “With Go,” you correct. No, you wouldn’t be entirely alone.

“And then?”

“Die.”

Meiko makes a face.

It wouldn’t be bad, you think. It’s all you can ask for out of life, if any higher existence is merciful enough to grant it. A peaceful death.

Meiko gawks at you. When she finally regains her words, she says, “Either you live as a jujutsu sorcerer or you die?”

You nod.

She opens her mouth. Then closes it. She sighs. “You’re so morbid.”

–

There are flowers on your desk. They’re lovely, a bouquet of a colorful array of flowers, some of which you recognize as japanese iris’, peonies, and wisteria.

You examine them, fingering their delicate petals, running your hands through them to try to find a card. You think it had accidentally been delivered to the library by mistake. You don’t know who would send you flowers.

There’s no identifying information on them, so you gingerly pick up the bouquet and walk out the library, all the way to Shoko’s office on the third floor of jujutsu high’s main building.

She raises an eye at the bundle in your arms when you knock and open the door.

“I’m glad I caught you before you went on break,” you say. “I found these flowers in the library, and I thought they’d brighten up your office.” You wrap your hands around the stems of the carefully trimmed flowers, and feel the thrum of your cursed energy imbue the flowers.

You place the bouquet down on the closest cabinet to you. As long as nobody intentionally destroyed them, they’d stay beautiful forever. “I’ll find you a vase.”

She swivels in her chair to face you, scrutinizing the flowers. “Are you sure? Those look like serious money.”

You play with a petal. “I think they were delivered to the library by mistake, but I can’t find a card.”

A knowing smile plays on her lips. “Men give women flowers when they want to apologize. Any groveling men in mind?”

You look at her. “No.”

She huffs a breath of laughter. “I’ll take them,” she says airily. She stands. “Are you going to join me on my break?”

You give her an apologetic look. “Paperwork.”

She narrows her eyes. “Fine, fine, but you owe me some of your time this weekend. It’s been a while since we went shopping.”

Shopping with Shoko always meant a good time. You’re looking forward to the weekend already. You wave her off, and back to the library you go. Just as you step into the gardens leading to the library, you hear a voice call your name.

“How’s your cat?” Hideo asks in greeting, jogging up to your side. “Have you named him?”

“Hello.” You smile. “His name is Go, and he’s very big.”

“Go…” Hideo’s eyebrows momentarily draw together, understanding dawning on his face. “I’m guessing it’s not because five is your lucky number, huh.”

You laugh. “He looks just like Satoru.” You adore him.

The two of you continue to the library.

“Has Go met his namesake yet?”

“Not...” Your smile slips, thinking of your last encounter with Satoru and Suguru. “Yet.”

“Well, all in good time, I suppose,” Hideo says easily, after a beat of contemplative silence.

You think about the flowers in Shoko’s office, and what type of vase they would look best in. Maybe Meiko would know. “There were flowers in the library.”

Hideo grins, amused. “A secret admirer?”

You blink. “I don’t think so.” A secret admirer? You? “I’m sure it was a mistake. I gave them to Shoko to brighten up her office.”

A wince crosses his face. It melts into a chuckle. You look at him curiously.

“You’re just a normal girl, huh?”

He grins, eyes bright, fond with a familiarity you still aren’t used to, but for some reason the comment makes your chest ache.

Normal.

You must be making a face because he straightens, mostly sobering. “Ah…how do I put this,” he scratches the underside of his chin. “When we were younger you always seemed…older. Somehow. It’s easy to lose sight of what’s normal in this world. I guess talking about love and secret admirers just reminded me…”

You tilt your head.

He clears his throat. “I prefer the person you are right now though,” he says easily. “You smile now” —like a normal girl— “and get sent flowers from a secret admirer” —like a normal girl—

You stare at him. Then lower your gaze to your feet. “Is that…bad?” You wonder if he’s making fun of you. You don’t think those flowers were intended for you.

Nobody has ever called you normal. If anything, you were abnormal. If you were a normal girl, maybe you’d be married like that woman you saw months ago. If you were a normal girl, maybe everything would be better.

If you were a normal girl would you be happier? Would things make more sense? You can’t imagine it. First Meiko asks you about a hypothetical future, and now Hideo seems to be under the mistaken impression that you are a normal girl.

It…

You don’t hate it. The thought peeves you more than you thought it would.

Hideo blinks rapidly. “No, of course not!” He frantically waves his hands. “Ignore me! I have a bad habit of running my mouth occasionally!” His gaze turns worried. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s fine,” you respond, meaning it. You smile. “I don’t mind.”

Normal, normal, normal.

Hideo walks you inside the library. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his neck crane to look at the domed skylight in the center of the library, the interest clear on his face. The building is in a unique shape: a heptagon, walls lined with bookshelves that fit the shape of the building. “I didn’t know this building was a library. Cozy.”

“I think they converted it,” you say. You’ve always liked this library, away from the bustle of the campus. Not many people knew about it. You discovered this building your second year of high school, and found a thin layer of dust on all the books and scrolls. It was clear it hadn’t been occupied in a while. It wasn’t until you had stayed inside for a day or two, unaccounted for, reading whatever you could salvage, that Shoko had found you, Satoru and Suguru not too far behind. Yaga thought you had never come back from a previous mission.

Shoko helped you clear the library. Satoru and Suguru carried a desk and chair into the center, right beneath the skylight, and suddenly, it was a study. Yours.

“I like it here,” you say quietly. “It’s peaceful.”

As soon as you finish your sentence, you hear the large wooden double doors open and slam shut as Satoru strides in. You flinch at the noise.

“...?”

Satoru folds his arms as he rests his weight against one of the bookshelves. He doesn’t need to take off his glasses for you to know he’s keenly unhappy in a way that fills up the entire room.

“...”

Satoru’s jaw ticks.

You move your gaze to the floor, sensing Hideo looking from you to Satoru curiously. Greater men have scurried away from the palpable tension Satoru has injected into the room, but Hideo seems oblivious to it.

“Guess I should leave the two of you to it,” Hideo finally says. “Sorry for the intrusion!”

You startle, looking up, mouth opening to deny his statement, but Satoru’s flat expression snaps your mouth back shut.

“T-Then I’ll see you…” you say quietly, wanting him to stay, to buffer conversation between you and Satoru anyway. But that would be unfair to Hideo. Satoru and Suguru have vocalized their dislike of him, for what you aren’t sure. You think Hideo is similar to Haibara in temperament, with his winning personality and easy going conversational air, and the two of them seem to get along with Haibara just fine.

He stops. Then turns back. “Next week, right?”

You blink. Next…week…? “Yes…?”

Hideo smiles, as a crease forms between Satoru’s eyebrows. Hideo slightly bows in Satoru’s direction before taking his leave. You hold your breath as the doors close once more, leaving you alone with…

Satoru is in front of you before you can blink, pushing you back into your desk. Your knees slightly buckle.

“You didn’t want him to leave,” Satoru says, accusatory, pulling his glasses off his face. “You wanted that third rate sorcerer to stay!”

You frown. “That’s rude.”

He ignores you. “Where’s your phone?”

You look at him curiously. Where had you left it again? Satoru opens his mouth, then closes it so quickly you hear the click of his teeth.

“Is…” you sigh. “Is something wrong?” You would rather he just get it over with. Telling you your outburst that day was unwarranted, and that you had been a terrible person and friend and human being in general. He wouldn’t be wrong.

“No,” he says through gritted teeth. “Nothing is wrong.”

Something, you think, is clearly wrong.

Silence.

All you can think of are Meiko’s words. The Gojo elders who traveled from Fukuouka just to convince Satoru to get married, preferably, to Sasaski. They want him to wed a woman of standing and lineage. They want him to have children. Then take a few mistresses, and impregnate them for backup heirs.

Freedom, you once again think, is immeasurable. You’re sad for Satoru. You want him to be happy. It’s all you’ve ever wanted for him and Suguru and Shoko. It makes you relieved and happy to know Suguru would always be by his side. Any sorrows or joys, would be shared together.

Satoru exhales roughly. In seconds he goes from bearing down at you, gaze alight, to sinking down to his knees in front of you.

You stare at him, confused.

There’s a loud slap of noise that has your eyes going wide.

When Satoru looks back up at you, his cheeks are stinging red, and handprinted. You reach out immediately, fingertips brushing over the heat of his sculpted face, wondering why he had slapped himself.

“Sato—”

“You know, Suguru and I were idiots.”

Oh. “No,” It wasn’t their fault. It was yours. “I shouldn’t have—”

You’re fully backed into the desk, taking a small seat (there’s nowhere else to move) as Satoru rises, hand closing around your nape. He brings you close and kisses you greedily, a moment’s indulgence, until he draws away, letting you breathe as you wonder what just happened.

“There’s nothing I love more than seeing you think,” he murmurs against your lips, piercing blue gaze never leaving yours for a second, “but right now I need you to stop thinking and listen.”

He sinks back down, expression almost smug when you close your mouth. He takes your hands, thumbs rubbing and pressing down on your knuckles soothingly, if not in an almost agitated manner. You’ve seen him do the same thing to Suguru. You don’t think he’s aware of it.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he admits, expression unusually forlorn. “I forgot…” he hesitates, dropping that line of thinking altogether. “Suguru and I get carried away when it comes to you.” There’s not a hint of amusement on his face as he squeezes your hands. “We don’t like seeing you cry.”

He says it with such a truthful earnestness that your throat goes tight. He’s still him, you think. That very same long limbed mischievous boy who laughed loudly and smiled broadly and clung a little too hard to your side, as if unaware of his own strength. His arm perpetually slung over Suguru’s shoulder like he was always meant to be there. No matter how far you think Satoru and Suguru are, those are the memories you’ll carry in your heart. Those sun slicked, sepia tinged memories, echoing of laughter.

Maybe the only person who had changed was you.

You look down at your entwined fingers.

You, you, you. It’s all you.

You’re a bit embarrassed. You don’t think you cried. Not in front of them at least. You had gone home and locked your door first. I’m sorry too, you want to say, but somehow with Satoru gazing up at you, the words are lodged in your throat. He looks devastatingly sincere. You don’t doubt his words.

“You should forgive us,” Satoru says lightly, almost innocently. Too innocently. That should’ve been more than enough for alarm bells to sound, but you had been preoccupied by Satoru’s show of sincerity.

You blink when his fingers easily wrap around the length of your right ankle. And when he firmly presses your foot to his shoulder, you stare.

You try to drop your foot, move it away, but Satoru’s grip is iron clad. A smile is slowly sneaking onto the corners of Satoru’s lips, making him look more incriminating than anything. You don’t like that look. Not at all.

“Satoru—”

“Would it make you feel better to push me around a little?” He asks breathily, eyes glinting mischievously. “You can kick me if you want, I don’t mind.” His voice lowers. “ Anywhere , really.”

You sweat. Trying to pull your ankle out of his grip isn’t working.

“I’m sorry too,” you blurt out, unable to comprehend how you ended up with your foot on Satoru’s shoulder while he gives you his consent to kick him. “I forgive you, I forgive you—”

“No needa be shy!” He moves your foot to his chest, pressing it down. “Just give me one good kick—”

You give him a flinty, dead eyed stare. “That’s not funny.”

He returns it with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not laughing.”

“Satoru,” you say weakly.

Finally, he releases your foot, and you are allowed to jerk your leg down. You’re instantly relieved, planting both feet firmly on the ground as you dust away the dirt on his shoulder and chest. He sighs, disappointed in a way that perturbs you.

“You’re so difficult sometimes,” you murmur, considerably warming up to his presence.

“That’s right,” he hums, idly trailing a finger down your clothed leg. “You and Suguru have your hands full, I’m sure.” He peers up at you daringly, looking every bit the petulant boy the Gojo clan had spoiled rotten in their adoration of the first six eyes user in centuries. “I’m worth it though, aren’t I?”

“...”

“Sometimes, I wonder that,” you say, (and mean) seriously.

“I didn’t hear that,” he says pleasantly.

“...If you say so…”

You think you imagined the twitch of his eyebrow.

You can’t help but smile. This is how things should be, you think. Now, if you could talk to Suguru, you’re sure you could draw this entire incident to a close. You wouldn’t have to skirt around the two of them with feelings of impending doom clouding your mind.

“Well,” Satoru says casually. “Now that we’ve gotten all that out of the way, apologies and all,” he promptly gets to his feet, so quickly you blink, gaze following him up. His face transforms into a full blown pout. “You’re a true sadist!”

You gawk at him. So soon after reconciliation!?

Satoru scowls. “Throwing Suguru and I away so quickly?”

“???????”

“Who said you were allowed to see and talk to other men!” He frowns even more vigorously at the confusion on your face. “Don’t act so surprised! Suguru’s been sulking every single day! He’s been downright distressed. The girls think he’s depressed! Again!”

You wince, recognizing the tell tale signs of another common Satoru overblown overreaction. Very high school reminiscent you think.

“S-Satoru…”

Satoru sighs dramatically, glaring at you. “Any day now, he might do something drastic.”

You stare at him.

“That’s why you should never get mad at us ever again,” he finishes succinctly, looking at you expectantly.

You stare at him.

When it’s clear you have no response, Satoru brushes off the silence so easily you think this is how others can get tripped up at the pace in which he leads. If you weren’t so used to it, you’d be one of them.

Satoru scans the small room. “Where are our flowers?”

“Oh, they were yours?”

Satoru levels you with a flinty gaze that would send others running to the hills. It elicits no strong response from you. His tone is chilly, displeased. “There’s another man sending you flowers?”

You give him an unimpressed look so withering that he clears his throat, almost meekly.

“Suguru’s idea. I picked them.”

“Well, they’re lovely,” a small smile on your lips. “They’re in Shoko’s office.”

“Of course they are,” he sighs, resigned. He regards you silently for a minute. “Did you like them?”

“I did.” You’re unsure where this line of questioning is headed. You slightly tilt your head to the side in a question.

“They were for you,” Satoru says. “I picked them for you.” He takes a step forward until your legs touch. “I wanted you to have them, so why’d ya have to give them away?”

You blink at the hint of roughness that bleeds through Satoru’s fixed (Suguru’s work) pronunciation. In hindsight, if the flowers were for you…it was awfully rude of you to have given them away wasn’t it?

“I…understand. I’m…sorry for giving your flowers away.”

Now he looks peeved. “They weren’t mi…” he groans, looking at you with an exasperated warmth. Then his eyes narrow. “You’re sorry, huh?”

You don’t…like that look in his eyes.

You don’t have time to respond, because Satoru’s finger comes to rest on the button fastened right below your neck. Uh oh. A sensation familiar to deja-vu suddenly envelopes you.

You’ve been getting a lot of those lately.

Your face warms as Satoru’s tongue runs over his bottom lip, playfully. The button comes undone easily. His voice is playful, but his gaze burns. “You can get on your knees—” your shirt is half undone, your black bra peeking out “—or I can get on mine.”

You don’t think he’s intending to give you a choice, because he’s so quickly down on his knees and spreading your legs apart, you’re blinking from the whiplash.

“Wait—!” You put your hands on his shoulders, thanking whatever deity was looking down on you today that you had put on pants instead of whatever easy skirt and sweater outfit you usually chose when sleep riddled in the morning.

Satoru smiles pleasantly. Too suspiciously well mannered when his fingers are on the zipper of your pants. “Yes?”

“H-how about a kiss instead…?”

You figure it would be easier to untangle yourself from him then…

Satoru’s fingers curl into your thighs, pinning you to the table. You’re surprised to see him seriously consider it. And relieved. His gaze is weighted with all the seriousness of negotiating a crucial deal. “How long?”

Your eyebrows furrow. You’re not sure how long a kiss should be. You hesitantly bring your hands to cup his face and lower your head to gently meet his lips. He’s as still as a statue, except for the sound of his breathing; deep slow breaths that overtake the rise and fall of his chest. His lips are immeasurably soft. A fact that you can only appreciate as time slows.

You take a moment to look at him. In the silence, you can admire the fine lines of his sculpted face and the inviting curve of his lips all within the grasp of your hands. He looks softer like this, happy. It makes you happy.

Satoru’s eyelashes flicker open, long white lashes framing the blues of the sky trapped in his gaze. You offer him a smile, a small quirk of your lips as you turn a hand over and lightly brush his cheek. You blink, taken aback when Satoru lightly takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckle.

His eyes flash, engulfed by a dark hunger.

You’re flat on your back against the desk, and there’s no time to think before Satoru presses forward, claiming your lips in an open mouthed kiss that steals your breath away. He’s trapped you into the desk, the weight of his body pushing you down. His fingers wind through your hair, cradling the back of your head.

You can feel his need between your legs, throbbing against you, all harsh panting and heat.

“Satoru,” you mumble the best you can with his lips still eager to meet yours. “We should—”

Your words are smothered when Satoru’s tongue licks into your mouth purposefully. You can tell he’s unhappy to be separated by layers of fabric. Your panties stick to your core, damp, as Satoru begins to lightly rock into you, straining against the material covering your heat.

“Satoru—”

He moans into your mouth, “Just like that.”

You snap your mouth shut, but Satoru doesn’t seem to notice as his lips trail across your neck with a single minded purpose. You feel his lips on your shoulder, as they glide across your chest.

Satoru’s lips are on yours again before you can even blink in an open mouthed kiss, tongue thoroughly exploring your mouth. His hands are tight, pressing into your waist, body flush against yours.

You mentally apologize. Then, you bite him.

Your teeth close over Satoru’s bottom lip. Hard. You almost wince yourself.

To your horror, Satoru does not release you like you thought he would.

You feel his body shudder to a near tremble, and the sharp exhale-like moan that leaves his lips. His eyes look delighted in their frenzied state. He presses closer to you, erection prominent and twitching, holding you even tighter. Your heart races in your chest as Satoru buries himself into your neck, hips grinding into yours.

You force your hands out against his chest. “Satoru,” you say tightly. “Someone could come in.”

That gives him pause. He rises, just slightly, enough to look down on you. You must look like a mess. His tongue swipes over the blood on his lips, and then he smiles.

“Oh?”

This is bad.

“I should talk to Suguru first,” you say quickly, avoiding his gaze. “You know…”

There's a brief pause.

“Hm.” He begrudgingly acquiesces, allowing you enough space to rise up. He briefly cups your face, before a hand falls to your neck. A dull ache flares when Satoru’s thumb presses down. You swallow, trying to calm your beating heart, all despite the fact that his hardness is within plain view.

You try not to stare at it as you busy yourself with buttoning your shirt. You can feel him grinning at you.

“And Suguru says I’m the one with no restraint.” Crossing his arms, he bears down at you expectantly. HIs foot taps up and down.

Your nerves are still frayed, electric, but you feel…almost better. Lighter. Despite the unexpected turn your meeting had taken, you’re happy.

“I love you Satoru,” you say, finishing up your top button. You really do. If he and Suguru and Shoko could be guaranteed happiness for the rest of their lives, you truly would have no problem dying in the next hour.

After straightening out your shirt, you finally look up. Satoru blinks at you, but there’s a flush to his neck, lips warbling.

You haven’t seen Satoru this flustered in ages. You should enjoy it now while it lasts.

“Where’d that come from?” He manages with a croak. He regains himself, straightening, but there's a pleased glint to his eye. Like a preening cat.

“I just wanted to,” you say happily. “Because I love you.”

You stand, rising on your toes to pat his head. Go likes it when you pet him. Meiko had liked it too.

Satoru stares at you, but he doesn’t push your hand away. He closes his eyes with an exhale.

“Are we…good?” you drop your hand, much to the disappointment that overtakes Satoru’s face.

“Always,” he confirms, and a part of you thinks he means it.

You smile. Everything’s going to be alright. As long as Satoru can smile at you like that, then things can’t possibly be as bad as you may have envisioned. You hear Meiko’s words once more: The Gojo clan elders and higher ups from Fukuouka are convening in Tokyo to try and convince Gojo to get married. They want him to have children.

It's odd. That such an important thing hadn't reached your ears. According to Meiko, those elders never left Fukuouka. A matter of the upmost importance. Nobody told you about it. Not even Shoko. It's none of your business. That's what you've been telling yourself, despite the disappointment swirling in your gut. You wish they could have confided in you.

“Do you want children?”

The look of interest on his face quickly fades as his gaze turns discerning. “What brought this on?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly, intuitively deciding that telling Satoru of your excursion with Meiko would be disastrous right now. “Just curious I guess…”

“About how babies are made?” His eyebrows waggle.

“No. I know about that.” Speaking of which. You’d need condoms.

Though you aren’t quite sure how well Satoru would react to you asking him what their to-go brand of condoms are. Maybe you’d ask Suguru instead.

“You weren’t at your place last Sunday,” Satoru says casually.

You blink, caught up in your worries about selecting the wrong condoms. Sunday…that had been…dinner with Meiko.

“Oh, I was out.”

“Out,” Satoru repeats. “Where?”

“With a…” you mentally apologize for being presumptuous, “friend…”

Satoru frowns. “You don’t have friends.”

Other than me, Suguru, and Shoko.

The unspoken words are pointed. You smile nervously.

You aren’t as popular as Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. That’s a given. Shoko gets invited to for drinks with the auxiliary managers every other day. Visiting jujutsu sorcerers have been known to ask her out for coffee. You’re sure it’s tripled for Satoru and Suguru.

“There are some…” you clear your throat. “I have friends other than you and Shoko and Suguru.”

Ijichi. Utahime….Hideo. Maybe Meiko.

But to be a friend…they’d have to consider you a friend right? It has to go both ways. You’ve never received verbal confirmation or anything. You shouldn’t have automatically assumed…but Meiko had invited you out hadn’t she? She wanted to see you. To talk to you. There were no ulterior motives. She wanted to get to know you. Isn’t that how friendships start? You don’t even remember how Satoru and you became friends. One day he hated you, and then he didn’t. It’s not that much of a surprise. He’s always been a little capricious at heart like that. Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko had seamlessly blended into your life, like they had always been there.

Satoru disregards your words. “You don’t need them.”

He doesn’t believe you. Your face warms in embarrassment. Of course he’d think that. You stay silent awkwardly.

Satoru hums. “So Megumi, huh.” He looks amused. “You should’ve just come over to the apartment.”

“R-right…” Sometimes, you truly believed it was easier to let Satoru think what he wanted. It was harmless anyway. So you’d let him.

He gently pulls you up to your feet. “I’ll drive you home.”

“But Suguru…”

“In Yokohama." He picks at something at your shoulder, but his knuckles brush your neck. "He won’t be back until tomorrow. So eager to see him?”

“Yes,” you admit. “I want to see him and I want…to talk to him.” If these past months have taught you anything, it’s that one of the things you miss most of all is talking to Suguru. Suguru is more than an excellent conversationalist, he’s attentive in a way others aren’t. Satoru and Suguru both. They make you feel seen. Satoru, when he looks at you. Suguru, when he listens.

You cherish it. You’ll miss it.

At your response, Satoru groans, falling to his knees once more. You blink at him, wondering what caused the sudden dramatics.

His fingers grip your pants, like a child hiding behind his mother’s dress.

He looks up at you. You suddenly get the image of a withered man in the desert, dying of thirst, and you already know what he’s going to ask. You step back. His hand falls loosely back to his side.

“No,” you say sternly, in the same manner you tell Go he can’t knock over your vases.

Then you walk outside.

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #m.jjk

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creedslove · 1 year

Text

BETRAYED - PART FIVE

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, fluff, glimpse of Pedro being a great (silly) dad, and more angst of course

A/N: I really don't know what you guys will think of this part. It is longer than the others and for those who don't want Pedro to be forgiven, you can consider this the ideal end, though this is NOT the last chapter. I still have some ideas for this story but their development will go according to what you guys want, especially because due to all the feedback I've received over the last week (yes today marks one week I posted the first chapter) things are pretty divided between who wants a happy ending and who wants a sad one, lol!

A/N Part 2: I still can't manually tag people on the works because I use the app and it won't let me do it, that's why I don't have a tag list at all!

3.2k words

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

Your heart clenched the moment you heard Kate's words. Pedro was there. After months pretending not to know each other, after not seeing him nor listening to his voice, months after the horrible argument you two had, where you both said horrible things to each other, words that hurt you two deeply, but also needed to be said. So you two could break free from what was holding you back. You and your mindless passion for Pedro, and him and his incapability of letting you go.

You realized you went silent for several seconds and Kate was staring at you with a worried look on her face, so you gave her a nervous smile and nodded "there's no problem, really. We are not making a scene or anything, I mean, we didn't have that much of a fight, it wasn't that serious"

"Yes, it was, Y/N" Kate said in a low voice "you completely fell out with each other, you have never been apart from long and honestly, he seems the saddest I've ever seen, and you don't seem like you're in a picnic either" she placed her hand on your shoulder reassuringly and looked down, excusing herself as she needed to attend the other guests.

You didn't like to be read like that, yes, you missed Pedro, in many ways you were still broken hearted at everything that went on, it's very hard to just let go of a person you were so invested in for years. It leaves an empty spot in your chest, even when you get over whatever happened, your mind always comes back to a bunch of might-have-beens. And though you and Pedro hadn't been away for that long, that's exactly how it felt. You walked out the kitchen and realized you were getting anxious to see him. He was there, it was a stated fact. It wasn't like when you went to the gym and very often looked over your shoulders, in hopes he wouldn't show up at the same time you kind of hoped he would show up. Internally battling with the relief of not running into him and also the disappointment of not seeing him. Once again, you had to remind yourself to act rationally, you didn't want to be shaken to the core when you saw him, and you definitely wouldn't make a scene at a princess' party.

When you reached the living room, he was the first one you spotted and for a few seconds he was the only thing you could see. There he was, Pedro, your dulce Pedrito like you used to call him and make a soft reddish color spread through his cheeks. He looked the same as always, the same as always made your heart race and you hated that. Your heart beat faster, your palms suddenly got a little sweaty and you were sure you'd stutter if someone asked you any question. You cursed yourself under your breath, months of self care and you still acted like a high school girl around him. The sadness Kate had seen your ass, you mentally rolled your eyes as you saw how he was still the life of the party, how he laughed and made everybody laugh. He wasn't sad, and why should he? Maybe you did hurt him in your argument, in fact you did hurt him as he left with tears in his eyes, but he probably got over you, he had done it so many times before, times where you still were friends and you loved and cared for him, so now what was stopping him from just forgetting about you?

Pedro finally eyed you, he knew you were coming and he tried his best to look good for you, he had a nice outfit on, his hair was messy like you always said you loved and God, he felt like time had stopped when he saw you walk into the living room. Hermosa, princesa, linda, mariposa, all of that crossed his mind once he saw you. He hadn't seen you in what it felt like forever, and now you were there, standing a few feet away from him. His desire was to rush to you, ignoring everyone else there, and wrapping his arms around your waist. If he could, he would let out all those Spanish words you loved roll out of his tongue before he could touch your skin and make you his. He chuckled to himself just to picture what you would say if you knew his heart raced when he saw you, how he wanted to take you into his arms like you had dreamed about it for so long. Life sometimes is truly a joke.

He didn't understand how you managed to become more beautiful since the last time you saw each other but you did it, and he couldn't take his eyes off you. He had no idea if you'd even want to talk to him, give him some of your time, but he was going to try.

Before you could greet everyone who was sitting closer than him, Flora and her big brother came running to you. If someone thought Flora was sweet, they hadn't met her brother yet. Wyatt was a five year old who seemed to be obsessed with you. Out of all his mommy's friends you were definitely his favorite. He was sweet to you like he was with no one else, and the fact he still had some trouble pronouncing his 'R' made him even cuter to you.

He immediately jumped onto your lap, snuggling you as tight as he could, he was overly excited at the sweets he'd eaten and the fact some people who brought his little sister presents also brought him presents!

Pedro's heart dropped to his stomach the moment he saw you surrounded by Flora and Wyatt. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to watch that, but he couldn't look away either. It all brought him back to the dreams he constantly had about you, the dreams where he always got to a happy, crowded home, where you were his and only his, in all the ways you dreamed of for long and now he longed for it as well and you two had built a beautiful family. He was always happy in these dreams, only to feel empty when he woke up.

One of the things he always loved about you and that one he made pretty clear throughout your entire friendship, was how good with kids you were. Of course Pedro had earned the cool uncle status, but he just admired how natural you were, how kids simply wanted you to be around them and how happy you got with that. It quickly drove him back to the night of your argument, and how you threw it on his face he was nearly 50 without a family. Yes, he knew you were right, but it still hurt him anyway. When he was younger, he wasn't sure if he was going for the traditional stuff but he assumed good old marriage and kids would happen to him, after all it happened to everyone. But as the years went by, he just focused on his career and he was pretty happy that way, apart from all the loneliness he felt, loneliness that was soothed by your company during the day and some other female company at night, sometimes even more than one at the same time. Until those stupid dreams began, every single night he would have a family with you and love every single part of it just to be taken back to reality where he was alone and all he got was his career.

"Did you really think I'd forget about you?" You whispered to Wyatt as you very discreetly handed him a small basket with his favorite chocolate. You didn't have enough for all the kids, so you hoped he wouldn't make a big fuss about it, but the moment he squealed in happiness and hugged you, you felt so lucky to be there. You quickly helped him open his present and watched as he ate one piece after the other. Kate would probably kill you the next day, but you didn't care at all, seeing his true happiness.

"Pedwo, come play please!!" He asked the man, waving his hand at him and inviting him to the empty seat next to you. You saw when he smiled at Wyatt and moved closer to you. His cologne was intoxicating and for a moment all you wanted to do was to rest your head on his shoulder and have his arm around your body.

"These are my favorite too, you gotta share" he frowned playfully at Wyatt and looked at you

"Hey Y/N" he said shyly and looked down clearing his throat before looking into her eyes again "you look very beautiful, muy hermosa como siempre" he said and saw the familiar blush spreading through your cheeks adding a cute look to your face. You still reacted the same, maybe you were still his muñequita?

"Hi Pedro" you said softly and smiled politely at him.

"Come on Pedwo do the voice!!! Do it again, fow Y/N to see!!" Wyatt begged excitedly and pointed at his brand new Grogu doll. Once again you felt the urge to roll your eyes mentally, of course that was Pedro's doing and it was so predictable. Cute, but predictable. The little boy however, was mesmerized as once more Pedro sat up and made his Mandalorian voice. You didn't know exactly how it was different from his regular voice, but it was and you couldn't explain. He said whatever Wyatt liked to hear and gently tapped the doll's head, making Grogu cooed and blink his eyes, lifting his little arm gently which caused Wyatt to squeal in happiness again.

You both felt pretty good at that, no matter what happened between you two, you were really good at handling kids together and your chest ached to wonder if the same would apply if you ever had children together.

•••

After singing Happy Birthday and serving the cake, Rob, Kate's husband, asked his kids to go to the backyard. Pedro grinned at the interaction and placed his plate down, taking your hand in his and pulling you "come on Y/N, you'll want to see this" he said happily and you had no other reaction than follow him. The kids were so excited when their daddy asked them to close their little eyes. They peeked all the time, not being able to hold back how eager they wanted to see the surprise. Pedro looked at you and smiled sweetly "I don't mean to brag, but it was my idea, so you're not the only one who is great with kids, you know" he winked at her.

You swallowed and looked down at your hands, fingers entwined and how softly Pedro caressed your hand with his thumb. You immediately let go of his hand and blushed, which wasn't unnoticed by him, who sighed and stared into your eyes "I know you're still hurt about everything that went on and we need to talk, I owe you an apology for what happened and-"

Pedro was cut off by the kids' screams of happiness and pure excitement when their daddy revealed their mysterious present: a bunny. A real life bunny, you stared into Pedro eyes and chuckled "that was your idea, right?" You asked and couldn't help but smile a little "I bet Kate is thrilled" you both burst out laughing and for a moment everything was alright between the two of you again.

He only laughed softly but gently took your hand in his once more, walking towards some trees, away from the fuss the kids were making and once you were both hidden enough from anyone else who might bother you, he finally gathered the courage to speak.

"I screw everything up with you, Y/N. I know I did, in fact I knew it from the moment it happened but I was too proud and stubborn to admit it" he sighed "and then it all got worse and worse until that horrible episode at your place. I deeply regret everything that went on" Pedro looked down, and then back at you again, being puzzled by how indecipherable your expression was. You watched him apologize without really apologizing, you just hated how he asked for your forgiveness without acknowledging anything at all.

"The reason why I didn't want to talk to you anymore was because I'm tired of being your doormat, Pedro. You know how much I love you" you bit your lips "how much I loved you" you corrected yourself and continued "but you only took advantage of it, and you know it. You know how many times you've hurt me, how many times you flirted with me, you kissed me almost on the lips, you sweet talked to me, the times you had your hands on my body not in an erotic way but definitely more intimate than a friend should ever do, you know how confused it left me, and you kept doing it"

Pedro knew it was all true, but he had decided to ask for your forgiveness and to be honest, he looked around embarrassed and nodded

"I-I know that, Y/N. I know I was a real shitty friend, always teasing you, playing with your feelings… I am really ashamed of it and if I could turn back in time, I'd never act that way. I had only one glimpse of what you must've felt all this time… when I saw you with that guy from the gym and it felt like my heart had shattered into a million pieces"

You had to admit you were not expecting that, at first you thought it would be just some more of his usual bullshit, but it seemed Pedro really meant what he was telling you.

"And I know the last straw was that night at the gala. It should've been about us, after all, you were my plus one because I wanted to have you there, and I loved every minute we spent together, you looked gorgeous, muy hermosa mi cariño, but then I was just terrible to you. I don't know why I left with that woman, I mean, I don't know why I just gave in to that impulse and I know I tried brushing off as if you were exaggerating but these past months I was finally able to be true to myself and admit you were right. I was a dick, I not only humiliated you and broke your heart but also put you at risk by letting you go home on your way"

His voice had a sad tone and he didn't look away for a split second, showing he meant all that.

You began tearing up, as those were the words you waited months to hear. You wanted him to apologize, to admit what he'd done and now it had finally happened, you couldn't help but feel sad as it came too late.

"Pedro, I-"

"Please, Y/N, let me finish" he asked and took another breath "that day at your house was completely unacceptable, I know it, and we both hurt each other, I snapped because I saw you with another man and told you to leave me alone, and I didn't understand why I had such a childish and reckless attitude, until I realized I didn't know how to act on my feelings for you, which takes me to the very painful words you told me, which unfortunately, were also true. I left that night hating myself, I didn't know what to do or what to say, so I looked for help, I went back to therapy and I was able to see all the things I was doing wrong"

You saw when he took a step closer and you could smell his cologne, you had no idea what he was going to do, but your heart pounded into your chest as his big hands cupped your cheeks so gently, stroking them and staring into your eyes "and after all that self-analysis I came to the conclusion that I love you" he bit his lips and a light blush spread through your cheeks "I mean, I already did, as a friend, even if I was a dick, I truly loved and cared about you, but it changed, Y/N, it got more intense, you're the only thing that crosses my mind the whole day, the only one I want and crave, all I can think of is your body against mine, your beautiful voice singing while you make breakfast, the way you light up a room when you step inside, how the kids love you because they see how incredible you are" Pedro took another deep breath "I'm in love with you, Y/N" he finally admitted out loud and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He leaned in and touched your lips with his very softly at first, ghosting over them, appreciating how perfect they felt against each other. One of his hands went for your waist, wrapping his arm around it and gripping your body in a desperate need. He was so close you could feel his strong chest against your soft breasts, so pressed up against his body it was really hard to remind yourself that wasn't right. The moment you felt the man deepening the kiss, you couldn't hold back a soft moan. You decided to enjoy that moment, something you'd craved for so long, it almost felt like your heart was bursting out of your chest. Your hands gripped his hair, pulling it softly as you kissed him back as eager as he kissed you. You felt like you could be trapped in that moment forever with him, it felt right, even if it was wrong.

When Pedro broke the kiss looking for some air, you still gave him a last peck on the lips, gently stroking his cheek and taking a step back.

"Wow" you whispered and smiled shyly "I've dreamed about that moment for so long. God knows how much I daydreamed that one day this exact scene would happen, now it did, it feels unreal" you looked at him and took his hand, gently squeezing it "and that's why it breaks my heart to see it happened too late. I'm sorry Pedro, but we can't do this. I'm really sorry that I don't believe you, I don't think you love me, I think you love the fact I was in love with you and that stroke your ego like nothing else, I was young, devoted, I would do anything for you and would take anything you had to offer, but we can't do this anymore. I can't do this to myself, I love myself more than I love you now, and I won't let anyone get in the way of that, not even you" she said and let go of his hand "I'll always love you and cherish you Pedro, but it's time to say goodbye"

_____

A/N: any feedbacks, let me know! Also, you guys have just met Wyatt! He is pretty much my OC and for the years I wrote for/roleplayed Victor Creed/Liev Schreiber he was always my character's son, and I developed an emotional connection with him even if he is not real, so I thought to myself, why not show the world what a ray of sunshine my fictional son is, right?

And yes, the bunny thing I got from Narcos because I thought Pablo Escobar had no right to be that cute while gifting his daughter a bunny, the way she got happy when he gave her su conejito just made me go all aww 🥰

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #male actors #hot actors #betrayed #betrayed series

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sailing-through-hawkins · 8 months

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✧ written for 'charm' ✧ word count: 548 ✧ rated: T ✧ cw: none ✧ tags: vampire eddie, also thirsty eddie ✧ @steddiemicrofic ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Eddie stalks closer.

He's been starving for weeks. Every night, he comes back here and makes his way through the crowd of bodies, weaving through their rhythms as they dance to the loud, loud music booming out of the club speakers.

But there's been no one.

Not one single person he could feed on, not one body that caught his hunger's attention, just making it fester and claw its way through his flesh until he has to leave before he can make a scene.

Jeff offered to help him hunt but his own damned pride doesn't want anything between his hunger and his meal, even a helping hand.

But now he's found a lonesome little thing outside the club. It leans against a streetlight, dressed in black as if to blend in with the shadows, as if it knows what it means to be one with the night.

As though it isn't sweet, sweet prey.

The streetlight flickers, once, twice, and in between those moments he's right there, hand stretched out.

"You're -"

The man - it's a man - turns around to face Eddie and oh.

"- pretty." Eddie says dumbly.

The man's pinched expression turns blank, before he ducks his head with a shy smile, looking up through lovely lashes.

Eddie blinks as those hazel eyes gaze back at him sweetly, his brain scrambling to gain any sense of gravity that was lost the moment he met those eyes.

"Thanks," the man says with a grin, one of his (scarred, veiny, pretty) hands pinching the hem of his black skirt and swishing it back and forth. "I've never worn one before but I thought it suited me, y'know?"

With an audible gulp, he nods, hand dropping pathetically between them. "Y-yeah, it does. It suits you. You're pretty."

Giggling, the man hooks a finger around the pinkie of his pathetic hand and it sends crackles of warmth through his veins, crackles that burst into his ribcage and make his heart beat again.

"You - I - uh," Eddie stammers and the man laughs again, pulling Eddie closer gently by the single point of connection they have.

"Are you always this articulate?" he teases as the streetlight flickers again and Eddie sighs when he catches a glimpse of the man in the moonlight, radiant and sweet and -

"Hi," Eddie says dreamily, tilting his head, void of thought, unable to resist the charm, the thrall of this pretty, pretty man.

The man leans back against the post, crooking up a leg so his knee grazes the skin peeking through the rips of Eddie's trousers. Eddie stares at the thick thigh now in his immediate space, fingers itching to stroke along the flesh, but then a finger gently pushes his chin upwards until his eyes catch on hazel once more. The man smiles at him and says softly, "Hey."

Eddie swallows.

The streetlight flickers for a few seconds and as he’s basked in the silvery glow of moonlight, the man whispers, “Do you want me?”

Eddie nods.

The hand under his chin ghosts over his skin, curling up behind his head to grasp his hair, and he gasps. The man pulls him closer, he smells incredible, and laughs darkly as the streetlight finally goes out.

“Then take a bite.”

✧ this is dedicated to the lovely @xenon-demon because i wanted to write you something and you asked for a reverse on the monster thralling a human plot and i think we both won here ✧

#sailor✧writes #steddie #microfic #writing #au content: vampires #steddiemicrofic #i hoped for a stronger sense of luring here to really get that sense of a thrall but i think this is pretty good too #i hope you like this charlie!!! it was so much fun #sip water every time i used the word pretty and you'll be so hydrated #the way i wrote this without even writing about blood is that impressive or boring for a vampire fic idk #also yes the articulate line was from hercules listen megara was a staple in my childhood -

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knoxic · 5 months

Text

A kiss may ruin a human life.

Oscar Wilde

-Masterlist- part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

wc: 3k

warnings: usual cm things? angst, Aaron being horny again but I doubt that's an issue

a/n: I actually wrote smut in this part but it got so big I had to cut off lmao

Time passed strangely.

The car ride to the station was weird and silent, the elevator was too small, a couple officers looked at you weirdly but you never felt more relieved to be in a police station as you were now. Missing person records were scattered all over the place, set up specifically for your team, the door to the room the BAU had been using was left open, the round table in the middle was surrounded by maps and pictures of possible suspects.

"Oh, hello!" so focused on getting away from Aaron you had failed to realize Derek was watching you since you stepped out of the elevator, "What took you so long, honey?"

"Look who's talking, you are always at least 10 minutes late."

"That's because I got things to do" he smirked and even dared a wink "But you... Are always on time, I got curious that's all."

Opting to answer with a slight slap on his muscled arm, you left him and went to search for some coffee, the constant change in emotions left you dizzy with a foggy brain, your stomach grumbling did not help.

The embarrassing noise it made reminding you that those peanuts you ate for dinner are not actually meant to fill your stomach. Coffee was already being brewed despite not having many officers working this late, you supposed it was probably one of your teammates. There were some packages of food next to an old box of pizza and some napkins, nasty.

A sudden husky voice from the entrance door echoed inside the small room, the speed in which you lifted your head made your tense neck hurt.

"JJ is getting us something to eat, well, something better than..." with 'better' he meant healthier, there was barely any food in there and the only things that were edible did not really seem edible. With a hand gesture he pointed to the package in your hand, to be honest you had picked it up just to try and figure out what it was, not exactly meaning to eat it.

"Good, she always knows what we want." throwing the package back to where it sat before, you leaned on the counter trying to look unaffected, over the years you had mastered the art of having no facial expression, yet, you couldn't hide from the person standing in front of you.

...

He noticed the way you stepped out of the elevator, your head being held high even if your mind seemed to be elsewhere, the minute you two spent side by side in that tiny space seemed to have made your confidence slip. Heading to the meeting room to see Dave he walked past you and Morgan talking, he couldn't hear what was said before but the smirk on Derek's face told him enough-

"That's because I got things to do." spoke that teasing voice he was so familiarized with, making him stop, "But you... Are always on time, I got curious that's all." turning back, he saw the way you glared at the guy, tired and unfocused but with a hint of the flame that always showed when you were being teased, your mouth opened and closed but no words came out, your hand raising slowly to give the man's arm a weak slap, making your way around Derek your feet dragged you towards the kitchen.

His heart felt lighter and his lungs could finally take a deep breath. He knew the relationship you maintained with the team was at maximum, friendship. You were strictly professional and barely ever laughed at the dumb jokes and acts Derek and Emily pulled, holding back your own dumb remarks for an off work time, he had caught a glimpse of it once. At the time he wasn't aware how deep in he was for you so it didn't really affect him the way you threw you body at Emily from laughing too hard, or the way Derek always kept his hands on you, a simple trick to make people think you were unavailable and to keep creepy men away from you, he used that with Garcia too. Unfortunately for Aaron, it worked so well that it even kept himself away from you.

Following you was a decision his heart made and his mind didn't argue with. After what happened tonight he could use some caffeine to keep himself sane, the words you two exchanged seemed to have been said yesterday and not 45 minutes ago.

His phone, which he had found strangely under his go bag, now tucked into his left pocket buzzed twice, the walk to the kitchen was rather small so he stopped to check the messages. Both of them being from JJ and he could already guess what they said.

"Hotch!"

'Don't let anyone eat yet, I'll get us something.' paired with a winking emoji. Good, he didn't think anyone would eat the food here anyway.

He was wrong.

Seeing you with a 'snack' on your hand made his eyebrows go up and the sides of his mouth pull down, you wouldn't... "JJ is getting us something to eat, well, something better than..." his mouth worked fast, you hadn't acknowledged his presence, the slip on your expression when you looked up made him cringe at himself, you looked frightened before staring at him like a blank wall.

He heard your voice and saw your mouth moving but paid no attention to what was being said. He was focused on the way your body leaned on the counter and the way you tried so hard to keep a straight face.

Not knowing what he was supposed to say, he only nodded and walked over to the coffee machine right beside you. Grabbing two cups and filling them without saying anything, you kept watching him, he was close enough that his arm brushed yours a couple times.

"Did you talk to Rossi yet?" your voice was almost a whisper.

"No, not yet." he pushed one of the cups in your direction before mirroring your position against the counter. "Did Derek say anything?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"About the case?" he nodded. "No."

"What did he say then?" Oh my god, Aaron.

You laughed, a sarcastic laugh with no actual humor behind.

"Why would I tell you?" you grabbed the cup and left the kitchen.

...

"We thought he was only taking girls, right? But we were wrong, I asked Garcia to take a look at other bodies found in the area because I was sure I had seen something similar. Two young boys were taken a few weeks ago, few days in between and were found dead after three days too. I had seen their pictures and something clicked. The unsub has a type! People who look innocent and small, in general someone who look defenseless you know?" He took some time to place all of the victims pictures on the table.

"We profiled that he was impulsive," his messy hair and fumbling fingers made him look like a crazy magician. "But actually, he's extremely cautious and calculated." his rambling went on for what felt like hours.

"Reid!"

"Sorry, Hotch!" he took a deep breath, "What I'm trying to say is, he's smart. He plans everything twice before acting. He chooses the victims based on their relationship with their partners, all of them had abusive boyfriends, one of the boys was married to a woman twenty years older than him, not that age means anything! But they apparently started dating when he had just turned eighteen..."

"How did we not see that they were all in a abusive relationship?" Emily sounded surprised because normally, relationships is one of the first things to be checked.

"We did." Aaron sighed. "But toxic relationships are unfortunately common enough that we just... ignored it."

"So, what do we do now?" you asked. On the way to the police station you were excited to hear what Spence had figured out, now feeling what was about to come did not ease your anxiety.

"I think some of us are going to have a date tomorrow" damn Dave and his teasing.

"Fortunately not me." Emily said while raising both hands, "I flirted with a psycho last time, I deserve a little break."

"All of them had dark hair..." You could see how JJ was relieved, she was almost always pretty much like the victims, blonde and innocent looking.

"I am too old."

"Oh, now you think you're old?"

"Don't push it, Emily." Dave rolled his eyes before turning to you. "I think you should go, you look innocent and young, dark haired and small."

"Ok, I'll go. Who am I dating?"

"I could go." bless Emily.

"I thought you were taking a break? I'll go, I'm strong and intimidating." Derek ignored her.

"Yeah I think you'd be good at it, considering you basically gaslight all your girlfriends into breaking up with you." Emily laughed.

Aaron was strangely quiet. after you walked into the room and stood behind a chair, he had taken a place right beside you. If you didn't profile people for a living, you'd think nothing of it, but you knew he did it for a deeper reason. Everybody knew you two were sharing a room, and everyone had the tendency to stand close to whoever they roomed with, you two were no different. If he chose a place far away from you like he wanted to, it would be too obvious something had happened.

"I think it's funny how none of us considered Reid." You said. "Maybe we could ask that rookie to help?" you could hear a sigh coming from your side right after the words left your mouth.

"He almost cried when Dave gave him a lesson on how to handle the victims parents, you think he can play your toxic boyfriend?" His voice was slightly raised and the word 'boyfriend' had a mocking tone. From where you were looking at him you could also see Emily and JJ exchanging a look. "I'll do it." Nobody questioned him.

The next couple hours were spent planning and then you two were being sent back to the hotel. In a few hours, after the sun came up, you would probably be going out to pick some clothes, and after that you'd be rehearsing your role. While Aaron would be acting like a complete asshole, you couldn't help but feel some butterflies in your stomach. Fake dating Aaron Hotchner was the closest you'd be to the real thing and if it wasn't for a mission, you would certainly be making the most of it.

When you got inside the room the first thing you did was take your sneakers off and find the shorts you were wearing earlier, going straight to the bathroom to change. You brushed your teeth again and went back intending to ignore Aaron, unfortunately for you, he was sitting on your bed facing the bathroom.

"Can we talk?"

"Now you want to talk? Now?" You weren't yelling, yet.

"Listen, tomorrow it's going to be just me and you alone, I thought it would be best if we talk now."

"I actually think the opposite." you walked to your bed and threw your clothes above your bag, there'll be time to fold it later. "You are going to act like an asshole anyway so if we just continue like this you won't have to pretend." you were now facing him from the end of the bed, he was still in the same position but his neck was bent in a weird way to look at you.

"What do you mean I won't have to pretend?" he raised his voice and turned a leg to rest above the bed. "You actually think I would be like all those fucking idiots?"

"No, I'm just saying it would be easier to not have to pretend this fucking awkward thing between us." if he was raising his voice then you could too, and you did.

"How do you expect me to treat you poorly when I know we're already on bad terms?"

"Aaron, you already did treat me poorly, and in front of everyone! You doubted my profile skills, you questioned my methods in front of other officers, you brushed off my theories so many times even when everyone believed them... You have been toxic, playing a toxic boyfriend won't be so hard for you."

He didn't know you felt that way, he always thought so highly of you that sometimes he felt like he needed to brush a few things off. He got lost.

"I didn't know you felt that way."

"Why would you?" he didn't answer. "You realize the BAU is not a normal unit right?" Now he looked like he was expecting you to finish talking, "Normally, we do have to trust each other and have a certain connection, but we don't always get treated like family. Sometimes we don't even like some coworkers, for a couple units I've been in we didn't even talk outside work. The BAU makes you feel special, like you actually add something to the team that no one else has. You are a big part of the team, and a big part of why I felt special... but for a while now you make me feel like I'm fucking dumb and useless."

From and outsiders perspective, you two looked broken.

"I am so sorry you felt that way."

There wasn't any answer from you, your arms were crossed tightly over your chest. Your eyes weren't meeting his but from what he could see they were teary too.

"I always trusted you, to the point where Dave asked if I was giving you special treatment on purpose. I wasn't. You have always been a good agent and an even better profiler. Your work is impeccable but as a unit chief I couldn't give you the treatment I would like to give. At some point I got scared that I would slip and compliment you too much, when we first started interacting outside work I noticed how much I actually liked you as a friend, and I had to put a stop to it before it got too far. Except I was late and went too far, I liked you too much already and I didn't know how to stop being so nice to you so I just started pushing you away. So many stories from Derek breaking up with his girlfriends gave me an idea and I hated having to do that, always hated hearing him tell me how he manipulated them just so he wouldn't be the bad boyfriend, but it worked. I see now I should've never done that and I am so sorry I made you feel the way you felt."

"Feel."

"Sorry?"

"Feel. You said felt but I still feel."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, thanks."

There was this weird silence in the room, not as weird as the other ones were but still uncomfortable.

"This is probably not the best time to say this but-"

"Oh my god! What are you doing? We finally communicated!" you groaned while dropping your head into your hands.

"-I think I'm in love with you..."

"What the hell happened with 'not sure we should act on it' bullshit you pulled out earlier?" you were sure you two would've woken the people sleeping on the rooms close to yours, thankfully they were all too busy working in a police department now.

"We acted on it anyway! We're not fucking but we acted like a married couple fighting today!" and the 'not fucking' part also contributes. He stood up but didn't get any closer to you.

"And whose fault is that?"

"What? What did I do?"

"Aaron, what the fuck? First you told me you liked me and then you just brushed me off when I said I liked you back. You didn't let me leave the room and pulled a move like I was a teenager and you were the parent taking my phone off, then later you just pretended nothing happened but looked so fucking jealous that I talked to Derek."

"Okay, it's my fault! I'm sorry, but I already told you, I like you and Derek is a fucking threat to anyone!"

"I told you I like you back, you idiot! Derek is not a threat for you!"

"What did you call me?"

"Idiot. Is that the only thing you paid attention to?"

"No..."

Oh my god...

"Are you-" no way.

"Yeah..." he whispered.

"You liked being called idiot?"

He was hard. His left hand making a move to adjust his pants, a tent making itself bigger. He looked embarrassed, his cheeks were getting red and he couldn't look you in the eye.

"No, I like you."

"You can't just do this, you know?" your head was pounding and you raised a hand to apply pressure with your thumb and index finger to both sides of it. In merely a few hours you had gone through so many emotions and now you could even feel a certain warmth on your lower belly. "You make me confused."

"I am sorry and I want to fix it." he was stepping closer to you now, "Please, let me?"

"I'm not confused in a sexual way, I find you extremely hot and all that. I'm confused in a way that I need you to explain your actions and feelings because I feel like there's more to it than you told me." your eyes were still closed and you only opened them when you felt his hands touching both of your arms.

"I will, I promise. But I can't handle this anymore."

"Aaron..."

His toes were touching yours from how close he had gotten, his hands kept moving up and down your arms, occasionally squeezing your flesh. He was so close, his touches warmed up your skin, his ragged breath fanned your face. You couldn't, you shouldn't... But he was so tempting and you were tired of holding back.

Taglist: @mrs-ssa-hotch @emobabeyy

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine

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