Steddie Time Travel Fix-it pt. 13 [now complete!]
Ao3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9 Pt. 10 Pt. 11 Pt. 12
Good things don’t happen to Eddie Munson.
They just don’t.
His entire life up until the age of 18 has been a series of unfortunate events only rarely interspersed with positive occurrences: Wayne. His guitar. DnD.
So he knows from the beginning of whatever the hell this thing is with Steve, that at some point the other shoe will drop. Because boys like Steve Harrington do not fall in love with boys like Eddie Munson. And if they do, it certainly doesn’t last.
So when, on an otherwise near euphoric Saturday morning, Steve’s parents unexpectedly arrive home, Eddie thinks: this is it; this is where my sudden rash of good luck finally runs out.
Eddie realized early on that Steve’s parents were absent in a way that went past “absent” and veered into the territory of “neglect.” They show up once or twice a month for a few days, but thet’re never present in a way that parents should be for their child. The house is more of an item to check off a list than anything else––a place to call home in between travel, a place to keep the clothes they swap before departing again. Steve tries to play it off like he doesn’t care, like the empty magazine-pretty soulless house is a blessing––and it certainly has been recently considering the prefab walls of Wayne’s trailer do not prioritize privacy. But even if Steve genuinely doesn’t care now, no kid wants to be alone.
Eddie thinks about a younger version of Steve. Sixteen. Fourteen. Twelve. Coming home to silence. No one asking about his day. Cooking himself dinner. Eating alone.
Steve had mentioned, offhand, that he used to have a nanny before he was too old to need one. Eddie hadn’t asked how old was too old for a caretaker. He was afraid the answer might break his heart. Because Steve tells stories sometimes that he thinks are funny. Stories about leaving the television on at night to trick himself into thinking someone else was there so he wouldn’t have nightmares. Stories about missing the bus and getting sick and learning how to do his laundry. They’re self-deprecating stories. Like it’s his fault he got lost when walking the four miles home from school because he had no one to call to pick him up. Like it’s his fault that his fever got so bad that he ended up sleeping naked on the cool tile of the kitchen floor because there was no Advil in the house and he was too sick to walk to the store. Like it was his fault he used too much detergent because no one had ever taught him otherwise.
Eddie takes those stories and tucks them away and thinks that, at least now, he can ensure Steve has someone. That he’ll never be stranded or sick or confused with no one to call for help again.
They do take advantage of Steve’s parent’s absence. Eddie and Steve spend most Friday afternoons and weekends there, hosting the kids and their families: Steve cooking or Hopper and Wayne grilling, Eddie mostly getting in the way. And once summer break starts, they take turns staying at each other’s places. A couple days with Wayne, especially if there’s a sports game Steve and Wayne want to watch together, before a couple days at Steve’s house where they can feel free to…engage in their own athletic activities.
So. It’s a Saturday morning. After a slow, sweet, late-night Friday. The kind of Friday Eddie didn’t even know was possible, didn’t know he could hope for, until Steve came along.
They’re both in boxers and nothing else: Steve’s are covered in baseball bats—a gift from Max; Eddie’s are a plaid that is disconcertingly similar to the wallpaper in Steve’s room.
Eddie is sitting on the counter next to the bowl of batter Steve is dipping out of, trying to make pancake shapes and mostly failing. Eddie had done the first batch, which were nearly all dick-shaped, before Steve decided he should take over.
So now there are hearts and lopsided stars on the griddle being carefully monitored by Steve while Eddie has his battle jacket in his lap, finishing the final stitches on the back panel.
And while Steve pokes at the pancakes, Eddie is trying to convince Steve to re-join the basketball team.
This is what love has done to him.
“I don’t understand,” Steve is pouting. “You want me to quit Hellfire?”
“No, I’m saying that we can move Hellfire to a different night next year so you can do your sportsball shit and DnD.”
Eddie, unsurprisingly, is having to retake his senior year. He’s not that upset about it considering that means he’ll be graduating with his boyfriend. Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley’s sudden determination that he graduate with good grades is a little concerning, but there are worse things in the world than being cared about by nerds.
“The basketball guys are all assholes,” Steve argues, hands on his hips. He looks like a dad at a soccer game, only more naked. It shouldn’t be hot. But Eddie has resigned himself to the fact that he finds Steve hot at all times, and distressingly so when he’s being bitchy or bossy, which are his default settings.
“Yeah, but you’re better than most of them,” Eddie points out. “You’d be a shoe-in for captain. And if you aren’t on the team, Lucas said he probably won’t join when he gets to highschool. And,” the most important part, the part that Eddie really has had to come to terms with, “you love it. The way I love DnD. And I want you to do the things you love. Even if they’re with sweaty jocks. Who knows. Maybe you’ll even be a good influence and by the time Lucas gets there only half of them are assholes.”
Steve flips the pancakes. “You’d really move DnD for me?”
He’d do considerably more than that.
“Baby, I may not understand your freakish desire to participate in team sports but I’m not going to begrudge the joy it will bring you.”
Steve grins and it makes him look young. Lighter, somehow.
“What if I make new friends? What if I bring them to DnD? You sure you’re okay with sweaty jocks infiltrating your inner scrotum or whatever.”
“Inner sanctum,” Eddie corrects.
“That’s what I said.”
“It’s really not.”
Eddie is 85% sure Steve is fucking with him. He likes to lean into the dumb meathead stereotype, mostly, Eddie thinks, because people underestimate him, but now with the additional bonus that Steve knows it drives Eddie a little bit crazy. And Steve, for all of his excellent qualities, is a bit of bitch.
“That being said,” Eddie leers, “you can also infiltrate my inner––”
“Okay, okay,” Steve says. He pushes at one of Eddie’s knees so he can step between his legs. So he can drop a kiss to either side of his mouth before pushing further into his space, one hand on the back of his head, holding him steady when he brings their lips together.
“If it means so much to you, I’ll call the coach tomorrow,” Steve murmurs. “Summer training doesn’t start for a few more weeks. Should be plenty of time for me to get back in shape.”
“Ehn,” Eddie manages.
Steve looks pleased with himself when he steps back to the stove, stacking his finished stars and hearts untidily next to Eddie’s dicks.
He ladles out the final batch––circles, clearly their creativity has waned––as Eddie holds up the vest for a critical once-over.
“Done?” Steve asks.
“I think so.” Eddie holds it out accommodatingly. “I need to see it modeled to be certain.”
Steve discards the spatula and turns, feeding his arms through the sleeves. He tugs at the bottom with a considering pout.
“Well, give me a spin, pretty boy,” Eddie says.
Steve spins. He peacocks toward the patio doors and then back in what is probably supposed to be a mimicry of a runway walk but is mostly just ridiculous. He pauses, just before he’s in reach, and pretends to headbang over an air-guitar solo.
“What do you think?” He asks, shoving his hair out of his eyes and somehow managing to keep a straight face, “is it metal enough?”
“Except for the goddamn ABBA pin,” Eddie grouses, like he hadn’t been delighted when Steve gave it to him last week with a shit-eating grin.
Steve sways just close enough that Eddie can reach out and grab the lapels, reeling him back in. “Only one problem, though,” he sighs.
Steve’s expression immediately sobers. “What?”
“It looks too good on you. I might not want it back. Might just want you to wear it forever.”
Steve kisses him. “Joint custody?” He suggests.
“For an only child you are shockingly good at sharing,” Eddie agrees.
And then, the front door opens.
And a woman’s voice calls, “Steve?
And Steve’s hands, cupped around Eddie’s hips, go tight before he releases them and steps back. Away.
“Mom?” He answers, looking lost.
“Steve, honey, come help me with this,” she answers, backgrounded by a jingle of keys and the clack of roller-suitcase wheels.
Eddie slides down off the counter to his feet and then just––stands there. Half-naked and wide-eyed and with a well of despair quickly drowning the quiet happiness that had previously filled his chest. And he thinks: this is it; this is where my sudden rash of good luck finally runs out.
There’s no making it up the stairs without passing through the front room. No way to get to the garage, either. He considers, briefly, just going out the back door, near-nudity be damned, but Steve must clock what he’s thinking and reaches out, grabbing his wrist.
“Did you mean it?” Steve whispers.
Two weeks before, they’d driven out to the quarry, laid a quilt on the hood of the beemer, and shared a smoke and a series of lazy kisses while looking at the stars.
“I don’t mean to be a downer,” Steve had said contemplatively, his fingers moving aimlessly through Eddie’s hair. “But this happy bubble that we’re in isn’t going to last. We should probably talk about what happens when it…” he paused, brow furrowed adorably with the deep concentration of someone stoned. “...pops.”
“Okay,” Eddie said, not following.
“The kids and Hop and Wayne knowing about us and being so cool about it––that’s not how my parents will react, when they find out.”
“When,” Eddie repeated.
“They will,” Steve had said, half resigned, half something else. He says it with confidence, maybe. Or maybe even pride. “Because if we keep spending all this time together one of the neighbors will mention it to my mom, or someone will see us too close in the grocery store and tell my Dad. Or they’ll show up unannounced one day to find us skinny dipping in the pool. And I’m not going to stop spending time with you, so. It’ll happen.”
“Okay,” Eddie repeated, understanding.
“So when that happens,” Steve said, “do you want me to deny it? And we start being more careful. Or do I give them an honest answer and probably get disowned? Frankly I’d rather do the latter but I know the house is a perk. Not just for us but for the kids. For everyone.”
“You think your parents might get violent?” Eddie asked.
Steve’s fingers went still in his hair. “My dad, maybe. I can handle him, though. If I have to.”
Eddie hated the look on his face.
“You’d be willing to give up the house and the money and everything?”
“Money won’t be an issue. The car’s title is in my name and I’ve been building a nice cushion in my savings account. Not planning to be cut off or anything but…”
“Just in case,” Eddie supplied.
“Just in case,” Steve agreed. “The problem is that it could cause a lot of trouble for you. And I’m not eighteen yet in this timeline, so getting an apartment or something would be––”
“I love trouble,” Eddie interrupted, crossing his fingers and holding them up, “Trouble and I are like this. And obviously you’d move in with us until the end of the school year. Of course you’d move in with us. We’ve got two bedrooms in the new place and Wayne thinks the sun shines out your ass and he doesn’t try to make me watch sports with him anymore when you’re around. You might have to cut down your hair routine in the mornings, though, if we’re all sharing a bathroom on school days.”
Steve had laughed and kissed him, which was the response Eddie was angling for, and they’d settled back to continue their star gazing and Eddie hadn’t thought about it much since except for occasionally at night, on the rare nights when he wasn’t with Steve. And even then he only thought about it abstractly. Living together for real. Waking up together every morning. Making breakfast. Getting to touch Steve whenever the whim hit him. It’s too soon. And they’re too young. And it would be a huge inconvenience at best and actively dangerous at worst if other people like his parents were to find out.
But they’re careful when they’re in public. And Steve’s folks are never there and Eddie hadn’t thought––well he hadn’t been certain how serious Steve was, anyway, when they’d had that conversation.
Now, standing in the kitchen, listening to Steve’s mom enter the house, he can’t reconcile the question Steve’s now asking with the reality of the situation. Standing in the Harrington kitchen at the six-burner stove, surrounded by top-of-the-line appliances, while the water from the pool outside reflects sun through the double glass patio doors. No way Steve would give up all of this for––
“Eddie,” Steve whispers urgently.
“Yeah,” Eddie exhales. “I meant it.” He did. He does.
“Then call Hopper,” he says lowly. “Get him over here. Just in case”
And then he’s walking confidently into the front room.
Eddie reaches for the phone.
“What,” Hopper snarls after the third ring. “It’s my day off.”
“It’s Eddie,” Eddie whispers. “Steve’s parents got back early and––”
Hopper's voice abruptly loses its sleepy fuzziness. “Are you safe?”
“They haven’t seen me yet. But they’re going to. And it’s––they’ll know. And Steve isn’t going to deny it.”
“Five minutes.”
“Thanks, Hop.”
He hangs up the phone and, with one last, reluctant, look at the back porch doors, he walks around the corner into the front room.
Steve’s dad, wrestling a bag over the threshold, glances up at his entrance and goes still.
Steve, helping his mom collapse the handle of her suitcase, carefully moves to place himself between his father and Eddie.
Suddenly, all the little noises from before stop. Eddie watches as Robert Harrington’s attention moves from Steve’s inarguably defensive stance, to Eddie and Steve’s combined lack of clothing, to the riot of Steve’s hair and the red of his lips. From the tattoos on Eddie’s arms and his ribs to the mouth-shaped bruises that sit like a possessive necklace at the base of his throat. His gaze moves back to linger on the vest Steve is still wearing.
“Steven,” his father says.
“Dad,” Steve answers levelly. “I didn’t expect you for two more days.”
“Clearly. What’s happening here?”
“Are you sure you want me to answer that?” Steve says. “Because once I say it, I can’t take it back. Once I say it, we can’t pretend anymore.”
“Pretend,” his mother starts with a flighty little laugh. “I don’t understand.”
Steve is still looking at his dad.
“Steven,” Robert Harrington says.
“Ok, then,” Steve says. His voice is low and firm and devastatingly certain. “This is Eddie. My boyfriend.”
Steve’s mother sits, abruptly, on the couch, still clinging to her luggage.
“No,” Robert Harrington says.
Steve laughs, a huff of a thing with raised eyebrows and a disbelieving shake of his head. “I did give you the option of ignorance,” he says. “You didn’t take it.”
He glances behind him, meets Eddie's eyes with a crooked, if sad, grin, and nods toward the stairs. “You wanna grab your stuff? I think we’re probably going to be kicked out here in a minute.”
Eddie does not want to leave Steve alone, but Eddie also does not want to be nearly naked under the baleful gaze of Robert Harrington anymore. He gives Steve a look that is meant to convey ‘yell if you need me,’ and he goes upstairs.
It takes less than a minute for him to pull on his clothes from the night before and he laces his boots on the landing at the top of the stairs, ears straining to overhear the muffled conversation occuring downstairs. There’s a lot of swearing coming from Steve’s dad and maybe some restrained sobs coming from Steve’s mother but it doesn’t sound like Steve needs help. So Eddie shoves the rest of his stuff from the bathroom counter and the nightstand into his backpack and then pulls open Steve’s top dresser drawer to pick some clothes for him. One of his own shirts is front and center and it’s purely for expediency that he tosses it onto the bed, following it with a pair of jeans, socks, and a jacket.
And then––
Then he goes downstairs.
The voices are getting louder, not just due to proximity.
Eddie pauses, just for a moment as he descends the last few steps, assessing the situation. Steve’s dad is in Steve’s face, hissing something about disgust and embarrassment and Steve’s mother is crying about knowing they were leaving him alone too much which Eddie thinks is rich. He might be shit at school but even he knows that correlation doesn't equal causation. If neglectful parents were the only requirement for homosexuality, gay marriage would probably be legal and politicians opposing it would only have themselves to blame.
“I can make you a list of house stuff you’ll need to deal with,” Steve is saying with an aloofness that has to come from the few extra years he’s lived, tucked secretly behind his too-young face. “You’ll need to hire a pool company and lawn service, to start. And there’s a guy who’s coming to look at the gutters next Tuesday, so you’ll need to reschedule that since I’m assuming you aren’t staying that long.”
Eddie goes to the kitchen. He turns off the stove, bins the final, now blackened, batch of pancakes and loads up the rest––dicks, stars, hearts––into a tupperware. He tucks that into his bag, has a brief argument with the zipper, and then returns to the sitting room.
“The only place you’re going,” Steve’s father is snarling, “is someplace they can fix this.”
“That’s not one of the options I gave you,” Steve says patiently. “Either you let me stay and you get to keep pretending I’m whatever you want me to be, or I move out and I make it clear to anyone who asks that I don’t consider myself a Harrington anymore. Your choice.”
“There’s a place in California,” Steve’s dad says. “Harriet, where was it that Marge sent her son?”
Steve’s mom just continues to clutch her luggage and sob.
“We’ll sort it out on Monday,” he continues. “You can spend the summer there and be back before your junior year. And you––” he points at Eddie, you will leave and you will not associate with my son anymore. God knows what you’ve put in his head––”
“Senior year, dad,” Steve sighs. “I just finished my junior year. And I was the one that seduced Eddie. If that matters to you.”
“It’s true,” Eddie says, summoning a brashness he does not at all feel. “I was there.”
“Harriet,” Robert shouts. “Stop crying and go find the number of that place in California.”
“No point,” Steve says evenly. “I already said I won’t go.”
“You’re my son. You’ll do whatever the hell I tell you to do.”
“No,” Steve repeats, like he’s talking to an obstinate child. “I’m not. And I won’t.”
“Yes you fucking will, or––”
The doorbell rings.
Everyone goes still for several seconds until it rings a second time, accompanied by a brusque knock. Steve’s dad mutters a string of expletives under his breath and goes to answer it.
It’s only when Eddie hears Hopper's voice saying, “Robert, I didn’t know you were in town,” that Eddie finally feels like he can take a full breath.
He thinks, absently, that his intense relief at the arrival of the chief of police is more than a little hilarious, considering the same chief of police has arrested him on more than one occasion. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, though.
“We just got back,” Steve’s dad says. He’s only cracked the door enough to speak to Hopper, trying to shield Steve and Eddie from view.
“That’d explain it, then,” Hopper says. “The boys invited me over for some breakfast before we go on our weekend fishing trip.” He raises his voice, “Pancakes or waffles this morning, boys?”
“Pancakes,” Steve calls.
“Fishing trip,” Robert Harrington says.
“A-yup,” Hopper says, hooking one thumb in his belt. “Steve said he was interested in learning and obviously Eddie volunteered to join.”
“Obviously,” Robert Harrington says.
“Joined at the hip, those two,” Hopper continues. “Nice to see.”
“Is it.”
“Anyhow, are they about ready?”
“We need to finish packing a few things up,” Steve calls. “You want to come in and help? I don’t know what pants would be best.”
Hopper steps forward and Steve’s dad grudgingly opens the door enough to admit him.
“Good grief,” Hop says, taking in Steve’s appearance. “I should have known you wouldn’t be ready on time.” He casts a critical eye over Eddie. “At least you’re dressed. Come on, you two, let's go. We’re burning daylight.”
***
Twenty minutes later, they pull up in front of the trailer and Hopper parks his truck with two suitcases of Steve’s stuff in the bed next to Steve’s beemer.
Before Eddie can get out of the car, before Hopper can even get the tailgate down on the truck, Steve is hugging Hopper with nearly the same desperation that he hugged Robin in the hallway all those months before.
He’d been so calm at his house, methodical as he packed his bags, reserved but steady as he drove them back to the park.
But now he’s got his arms wrapped around Hopper, hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, head ducked, just enough, so Hopper can tuck Steve under his chin and hold him back. Now, he’s––he looks like a kid whose parents just confirmed their love had limits.
And Eddie aches for him.
He can’t help but think about Wayne’s careful, leading, assertions. His stories about his gay friend in Indy. His belief that people ought to live and let live. His enjoyment of queer musical artists and his constant, constant reminders that he would love Eddie no matter what. That his love was not transactional or conditional and that even if Eddie said he didn’t want it, he’d always have it. No matter what.
Eddie wishes, so much, that Steve had a Wayne.
Then again, he thinks, watching Hopper’s mouth move against Steve’s year, watching him holding Steve back just as tight, if Wayne has taught Eddie anything it’s that you get to choose your family, if you want. You’re not stuck with the ones you’re given.
Wayne comes out the door, looking confused, and Steve wrenches himself away, busies himself with pulling out his bags while dragging the back of his arm across his eyes.
Hopper steps up to the porch and has barely said a dozen words to Wayne before Wayne stopping across the yard and pulling Steve into a hug too and––
Oh.
Eddie is going to need a moment.
“Hop,” Wayne says over Steve’s shoulder. “Thank you. For bringing my boys back safe and sound.”
Eddie is not going to cry. He’s not.
He might. Just a little.
“Sure,” Hopper says. “You let me know if they cause any trouble.”
For once, Eddie is pretty sure the “they” Hop is referring to is not, in fact, Steve and Eddie.
“Will do. You want to stay for breakfast?”
“We brought the pancakes with us,” Steve says wetly.
“I might stay for some pancakes,” Hopper muses. “What kind?”
“Uh,” Eddie says. “Blueberry. But fair warning, about half of them are dick-shaped.”
Hopper squints at him. “What other shape options are there?”
“Hearts and stars.”
“I’ll take stars,” he says.
“Hearts,” Wayne says.
“Done,” Eddie agrees.
He and Hopper each grab one of Steve’s bags from the truck and Wayne pulls away from Steve only so he can open the door. He keeps a hand on the back of Steve’s neck as he leads them inside and Eddie follows with so much love in his chest that he feels buoyant.
“We’ll take care of it, kid,” Hopper murmurs behind him. “It’ll be okay.”
And Eddie believes him.
***
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— whispers of forever || kim hongjoong
true love isn't about finding someone perfect, but finding someone who perfectly complements your imperfections
idol!hongjoong x reader
genre: fluff
trigger warnings: none! contains elements of anticipation, excitement, and romantic gestures.
words: 3.1 k
reminder: what you're about to read is purely fiction, so let's keep it separate from reality.
minors do not interact
— hi there! thank you @etherealtyjaem for requesting this prompt, i absolutely adore this one and i hope you will like it too! i'm a bit nervous because my imagination got carried away in the ending, but i hope you'll like it!
love, monika. ♡
On a breathtaking late spring night, you and Hongjoong found yourselves in your garden, nestled on a newly bought outdoor sofa. As the clock neared midnight, a blanket of stars adorned the night sky, casting a celestial glow over you and Hongjoong. Your boyfriend holds you tenderly against his chest, arms encircling your waist with a gentle embrace. Your fingers intertwine on your stomach, while his head finds solace in the comforting curve of your neck. His breath, a gentle caress against your skin, elicits a soft smile from your lips. In the sanctuary of Hongjoong’s embrace, you find a haven of safety and warmth. No words are needed as you bask in the serenity of the moment, content in the simple pleasure of being together. After a week of spending every night in the studio, Hongjoong finally earned a precious few days off. Eager to make up for his absence, he expressed his desire to whisk you away on a small trip overseas. However, mindful of his packed schedule with the release of a new album and an upcoming tour, you simply longed for him to stay with you in the comfort of your shared home.
By now, you had grown accustomed to the rhythm of being on your own, immersing yourself in work and errands while Hongjoong poured his heart and soul into his music. Despite the familiarity of the separation, you couldn't shake the longing for him to be beside you, especially at night. As much as you tried to fill the void with distractions, sleep remained elusive without his comforting presence nearby. The emptiness of your bed served as a constant reminder of his absence, leaving you yearning for the warmth of his embrace. The knowledge that instead of catching a few hours of sleep, your boyfriend stayed up all night working only compounded the difficulty of falling asleep. While you tossed and turned, grappling with the insistent pull of exhaustion, your mind couldn't help but wander to him—imagining him immersed in his creative process, pouring his passion into every note and lyric. Each failed attempt at sleep served as a silent testament to the sacrifice and dedication he poured into his craft, leaving you torn between admiration and longing for his presence by your side.
As you delicately turn your head to admire the beauty of your boyfriend, you meet Hongjoong's eyes. shimmering with affection, and a smile graces his lips.
"You are so handsome," you whisper into his ear, your breath warm against his skin. You placed a tender kiss on his cheek. "How did I get so lucky?" you murmur softly, the words tinged with wonder and gratitude. As you gaze at Hongjoong, a flood of memories and emotions wash over you, reminding you of all the moments you two shared. Hongjoong’s smile was your favorite, nothing compared to it, and in that moment, nothing else mattered but the beauty of his smile.
"Well... I think you must have saved the world in your previous life," he said jokingly, before leaning in to connect your lips in a brief, affectionate kiss. You playfully hit his arm, a mock scowl forming on your lips.
"You were supposed to tell me you're the lucky one here!" you teased, your playful pout betraying the amusement dancing in your eyes. Hongjoong kissed you once again, his lips brushing against yours tenderly.
"My bad," he said with a grin. "I'm so, so lucky to have the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world!" he joked, his eyes twinkling with affection.
"That's better," you replied with a smile, your fingers tracing small circles on his hands. The silence enveloped you once more. In the quiet moments shared together, there was an unspoken understanding—an intimacy that transcended words. "How's work? Did you manage to finish the lyrics you told me about earlier?" you inquired; your voice filled with genuine interest.
"Well, it was one hell of a ride. I think I haven't slept for two nights just to finish that one song, but I don't think Mingi is happy with the outcome," Hongjoong admitted, a hint of weariness creeping into his voice.
"How come?"
"I think he has a different vision for the song," Hongjoong explained, a touch of frustration evident in his tone. "We had some creative differences, and it's been a bit of a challenge finding common ground. But we'll work it out. It's all part of the process." After Hongjoong's explanation, you listened attentively, understanding the challenges that come with creative collaboration. With a reassuring smile, you gently squeeze his hand, offering your support and encouragement.
"Hey, you're incredibly talented, and I know you'll find a way to make it work," you said, your voice filled with confidence in him. "You've overcome obstacles before, and this is no different. I believe in you, and I'm here for you every step of the way." Hongjoong smiled gratefully at your words, the warmth of your support easing the weight of his concerns.
"Thank you, baby," he said softly, his eyes reflecting appreciation. "It's just... while working on this album, I've had a lot of different thoughts and emotions." you reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
"I understand," you murmured, your voice filled with empathy. "Creative processes can be overwhelming sometimes, but remember, you're not alone in this." Hongjoong's voice was a gentle whisper, laden with vulnerability as he confessed,
"To be honest, before I met you, I thought I had everything I ever wanted." His gaze was shy, unable to meet yours,
"Why the sudden confession?" you asked, taken aback by the unexpected words.
"I’ve been thinking about it for a while now" Hongjoong admitted, his breath shaky, voice tinged with sincerity. "I had my members, fans, and money eventually came too." A soft chuckle escaped his lips before he added, "But then I met you, and it's like... my life wasn't whole before." The weight of his words hung in the air, carrying the depth of his emotions as he dared to bare his soul to you. "Aside from the success and the love from fans, there was always a void I couldn't quite fill. Meeting you changed everything. Suddenly, I found myself longing for more than just superficial achievements. Your presence brought a warmth to my heart that I didn't know was missing. With you, it's like I've discovered a new dimension of happiness and purpose. I never want to let that go." As Hongjoong's heartfelt confession washed over you, you were left speechless, overwhelmed by his emotions. While you may struggle with finding the right words to express yourself, Hongjoong has always possessed a gift for articulating his feelings. Hongjoong's way with words always amazed you, especially in such moments. His ability to express love and warmth made you feel grateful for him.
"I will never let you let me go, so don’t worry." Hongjoong's eyes soften with love as he hears your heartfelt declaration, a sense of warmth spreading through him. “I love you” Hongjoong's breath catches, his eyes locking with yours in a tender moment.
"I love you too," he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and affection. "More than words can express."
"Do you ever think about the future?" Hongjoong's gaze softens as he considers your question, his mind drifting to the possibilities ahead.
"After I met you, yeah I do, all the time," he admits, his voice tinged with both excitement and uncertainty, "I used to believe that ATEEZ was the only future I wanted, to be honest, my teenage self never wanted anything else than to live off music, as it was the only thing that mattered.” His eyes, usually focused and determined, now carried a hint of vulnerability. "When I first set out on this journey with ATEEZ, music was my whole world. It consumed me in the best way possible. But meeting you has shown me that life is much richer and more complex than I ever imagined. Now, I see a future where music is still a vital part of who I am, but it's no longer the only thing defining me." Feeling Hongjoong's embrace grow tighter, you're drawn closer to his chest, the warmth of his touch enveloping. His hand cups your cheek tenderly, his touch gentle yet firm, as he draws you in for a kiss. In that moment, the world fades away, leaving only the two of you. As you pull away from the kiss, a smile plays on your lips, your eyes reflecting the warmth of the moment.
"I'm glad I can be that source of comfort and trust for you," you say, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. "To know that I can bring you peace and happiness means everything to me. We're in this together, supporting each other through thick and thin, and I wouldn't have it any other way." Hongjoong smiled softly, his heart swelling with gratitude for your understanding and acceptance.
"I don't think I ever told you that but as the leader I always am the one responsible," Hongjoong continued, his tone carrying a mix of pride and vulnerability "Don’t get me wrong, being a leader is something I take a lot of pride in, but I was always scared to admit to my mistakes or to tell the guys about my true feelings. But with you, I'm learning to open up. You've taught me that your love embraces my imperfections, rather than overlooking them," Hongjoong expressed gratefully, his words resonate deeply, revealing the weight of responsibility he carries as a leader.
"It's okay to feel that way," you reassure him, your voice a gentle reminder of the support he finds in you. "Being a leader comes with its own set of challenges and expectations, but you don't have to bear them alone. I'm here to listen, to support you, and to remind you that it's okay to be human—to make mistakes, to express doubts, and to share your true feelings. Your vulnerability is what makes you real, and it's a beautiful part of who you are. I love you for all of it, imperfections and all.'' You lean in and peck his lips, your hands gently resting on his cheek. You pull back slightly, looking into his eyes filled with gratitude and unshed tears. His grip on you tightens as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.
"Thank you," he whispers, his voice barely audible, breaking slightly under the weight of his emotions. His breath tickles your hair as he leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a moment of tranquility. "I don't know what I'd do without you," you can feel his heartbeat against your back, steady and comforting. His vulnerability in this moment only makes you love him more. You understand the pressure he's under, the weight of the world seemingly on his shoulders, and you want nothing more than to share that load with him. You run your fingers gently through his hair, offering him a comforting smile.
"You'll never have to find out," you assure him, your words a soft promise in the quiet space. You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, a silent promise of your unwavering support and love. ''Tell me, when thinking about the future do you see it together with me and ATEEZ?" Hongjoong's gaze softens as he considers your question, his thoughts drifting to the future.
"I do," he responds with a smile, his voice filled with conviction. "I see a future where we continue to support each other's dreams, where our love only gets stronger. And whatever challenges come our way we will face them together. As long as we're together, I know we can overcome anything. I believe in us, our love, and the bright future that awaits us." In the moment after Hongjoong's heartfelt confession, you're overcome with a rush of emotions—love, gratitude, and a fierce longing to express your feelings in return. Without hesitation, you turn around and place yourself on top of his lap, then you lean in, pulling Hongjoong by his neck.
"Hongjoong," you whisper against his lips, "I love you. I see that future too, and I want nothing more than to face it with you." Your lips meet in a passionate kiss that ignites a fire between you. The world fades away as you lose yourself in the moment, your heart beating in sync with his. Each touch, each caress, is a testament to the depth of your love. As you finally pull away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you meet Hongjoong's gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. In that shared glance, you find reassurance, knowing that your love is as boundless as the stars above and that together, you can conquer anything that comes your way. "I need to tell you something," you announce, your voice tinged with nerves. "I can't shake this feeling that as ATEEZ continues to grow, I might end up being a distraction." Hongjoong's eyes soften with understanding as he listens to your confession, a gentle smile playing on his lips.
"You could never be a distraction," he assures you, his hands gently caressing your back, his voice filled with sincerity. "You're my rock and my greatest source of inspiration. ATEEZ may be reaching new heights, but you'll always be an integral part of my life, my muse, and my greatest ally. You're my partner, my equal, and my greatest love, not a distraction." A sense of relief washes over you as you hear those words.
"I really needed to hear that," you admitted, feeling a weightlifting off your shoulders. Sometimes, you find yourself overwhelmed by Hongjoong's popularity, knowing that his career should be his number one priority. Hearing his understanding and support meant everything to you.
“Speaking of the future... where should I propose?” Hongjoong's playful tone brings a smile to your face as you entertain the idea, the thought of your future together filling you with warmth.
"Hmm, let me think," you reply, playing along with his jest. "Well, since we both love adventure and exploring new places, how about somewhere that holds special meaning for us?" you suggest. "Maybe a secluded spot in the mountains where we can watch the sunset?"
“Please don’t make me climb a mountain before asking the question” You join in his laughter, the playful exchange bringing a sense of lightness to the moment.
"Fair enough," you chuckle. "How about we keep it simple then? A cozy spot with a beautiful view and a lot less hiking involved? As long as we’re together, it'll be perfect." your words are met with a nod and a smile from Hongjoong.
''Well... we are together now and the view is beautiful.'' Hongjoong's suggestive tone catches you off guard, but a rush of excitement courses through you at the prospect of taking this step together, here and now. ''So... what about now?''
"Now?" you repeat, feeling your heart race with anticipation. He nods, a playful glint in his eyes as he takes your hand.
"Why not?" he responds, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "Life's too short to wait for the perfect moment. Let's make this moment ours." With a quickening heartbeat, you take a deep breath and nod, feeling the weight of the moment settling around you. Hongjoong released you from his embrace, a sudden sense of excitement sparking in his eyes as he dashed into the house. Your heart raced with anticipation. Could he really be doing what you thought he was? You sprang up from the sofa, nerves, and excitement mingling in your chest. Hastily, you glanced at yourself in the window, adjusting your hair with trembling fingers, making sure everything was just right. Just as you finished, Hongjoong returned, a small pink box clutched in his hand. Your heart skips a beat, anticipation coursing through your veins. You meet his gaze, feeling a rush of emotions swirling within you. Hongjoong approaches you slowly, and then he kneels before you. Your breath catches as his eyes lock with yours, filled with love and determination.
“I can’t believe we are really doing this right now” you whispered, eyes full of tears, heart pounding in your chest. Hongjoong's eyes shimmer with emotion as he takes in your tear-filled gaze, his heart swelling with love and anticipation.
"Neither can I," he whispers back, his voice thick with emotion. "But I know in my heart that this is right. That you're the one I want to share my life with, through every joy and every challenge." With trembling hands, he opens the box, revealing a ring that sparkles in the soft light. "I love you more than words can say," he continues, his voice steady with conviction. "And I promise to cherish and protect you for the rest of my days. Let's spend our lives together, side by side. Y/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and become my wife?" the question leaves you breathless. As you kneel beside Hongjoong, a wave of joy and relief washes over him, his eyes sparkling with happiness.
"Well, since you asked so nicely, I guess I can make an exception and marry you." Hongjoong's eyes widen in mock disbelief before a wide smile spreads across his face as he takes your hand in his, his fingers trembling slightly with emotion.
"Really?" Hongjoong asks, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and joy. You nod, a tear escaping your eye as you try to contain your overwhelming emotions.
"Yes, really," you confirm, "I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you." With a tender smile, Hongjoong brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your skin.
"I'm the luckiest man in the world," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and gratitude. "To have you by my side, to share this journey with you—it's a dream come true." With trembling hands, he slips the ring onto your finger, sealing your promise with a tender kiss. "Forever and always," he whispers, his voice full of love.
"And I'm the luckiest woman in the world," you whisper back, your voice filled with emotion. With tears of joy shimmering in your eyes, you lean in to press your lips against his, savoring the sweet taste of his love and the promise of a future filled with endless possibilities.
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Hi! Can i ask some quick enemies to lovers with Jason Todd? Which is not much "enemies" but two prideful people that won't admit they have feelings for each other and they like... have similar personalities. It can be sfw or nsfw, it's up to you <3
Byee, thanks.
(Maybe reader also being a vigilante too hehe)
a/n: thank you for this amazing request. I was about to have so much fun with this!!! (also kinda left it open so if there is a desire for part two, just leave me a message!! <3)
It doesn't hit either of you like a brick wall or a train like it should. No. Because why would it? Love doesn't hit you over the head in the middle of the night. It happens slowly.
It happens when Oliver asks you to cut home early because you almost missed a step and went over the rooftop of a building. Which you deny but you know it happened because Oliver is never really one to say 'go home'. So you take his orders. Oliver shakes his head as he watches you go. Ever since he told you that some of the team from Gotham was coming to Star City to help a case you've ben off your game.
It happens when Jason doesn't see the trip wire. Dick has about seven seconds to clear the room and drag Jason with him. The two of them get safely away from the loud bomb. Bruce is talking over the comms, asking if everything is alright. Jason grumbles out some sort of response. Dick knows he's not on his A-game because he's part of the crew going to Star City, where you operate.
It happens when you come face to face with Red hood after not seeing him for a few months. The last time you saw him he saved you from a round of gunfire. You couldn't figure out if he saved you because it was the right thing to do or for some other reason.
It happens when the two of you have to guard a safe house for a couple of hours. There is nothing to do. It's mindless boredom. It's endless. It's so boring and Red doesn't make it easier because he doesn't try to converse with you either. You try to make small talk but he seems to talk in grunts or just silence.
It happens when the mission goes wrong. The informant is nipped on someone else's patrol. You and Red are called in to figure out who did it and to track their every move. You spend about eight hours by his side and say about ten words to him.
It happens when you two find the culprit and are faced with a difficult decision. Take justice into your own hands or hand them over to the Oliver and Bruce. Red leaves it up to you.
And for some odd reason, that's when you realize it. At that moment it dawns on you. Like the final crumb of sand falling in a hourglass. You like Red. You like him even if he doesn't speak a word to you, or if you fail and fumble in front of him.
You try your best to keep it to yourself.
But it's hard to do that when he seems, different.
After that night when he left the choice up to you, he seems to be another version of himself. A version you didn't know existed. He greets you, he tries to make small talk, and he gives you compliments and praise.
Oliver and Bruce notice it too. They keep their smiles and shit eating grins to themselves. Honestly the two of them honestly make this a thing amongst themselves. Who can get the ball rolling first?
Bruce asks Jason about it one night after patrol. To which Jason replies with a stern 'no' and nothing else. Oliver asks you when he takes you out for lunch and you also tell him a simple 'no' and move on.
It keeps happening like this. Red does something that makes you think maybe, sort of, possibly. But you don't take that step. And Red goes through the same thing about you. And talks himself out of telling you anything.
One day though, it does come to an end.
You're in an alley in Gotham. You're not on a mission. You're just a civilian in this situation. A civilian who wants to take an alleyway cut instead of walking two blocks. It's safe to say that when you get held up at gun point you regret not walking those two simple blocks.
What goes down, goes down fast. You manage to get the jump on two of the scumbags. But one of them does have a gun. They aim it right at you and the shot should hit you but it doesn't. It doesn't because of someone.
Red hood stands between you and the gun. The bullet flies off his patted amor chest. You watch as all the guys in the alleyway scurry like rats. You're left there, wide eyed and shocked.
Red Hood turns to you and offers you a hand up. You take it, and try to think of something to say. Anything. A thank you. A sorry. Something that should leave your mouth. But all you can think about is how he's saved your life again.
And that's the word you say. 'again'
It catches him off guard. So much so that he takes a step back. You think you might've said the wrong thing. But then again, you think to yourself that he won't really know what you're talking about. You're seeing him as a civilian. He's never seen you as a civilian. He doesn't know who you are.
But he could now.
He could now.
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dad
annie told her father all about the alicia incident after sucking his cock on her couch. in fact, she told the story still kneeling on the floor, bottomless, cum on her chin.
robbie was out, having spent the night with casey. annie made her her father was aware of the empty apartment as she peeled off her panties for him, hoping he might want to go further, but he was certain robbie would appear at any time.
he was very interested in the idea of alicia's parents wanting to meet her and said the idea that alicia had a long-term illness but resisted long-term relationships was one he'd deeply probe if he were her parents' therapist. "i've got a few things you can deeply probe," annie offered.
her father left and robbie got home. he'd been railing casey all morning and had a few videos to prove it but could tell annie was deliriously horny, so he handed her his phone to watch the videos while he licked her clit and fingered her pussy.
"i met casey's parents this morning, she brought me down the stairs and she was literally in only a tank top, introduced me to her dad with her pussy showing."
"fuck," annie said. "i love her."
"her mom is hot, too," he said. "she had panties on but looked shaved. i tried not to stare."
annie giggled. "keep me posted." she said.
she had a date with richard that night. drunk after dinner in his apartment, she went to sophie's room and came out wearing some of her panties. richard called her sophie while he fucked her.
annie informed sophie of this along with a photo of her pulled-aside panties covered in cum. it was hours before sophie responded and she looked gaunt in the nude photo she sent back. annie was alarmed.
"you have to go get sophie," she told richard. "she's going to die."
somehow he heard it this time, and was on the next flight.
while waiting for updates from richard, annie got updates from tom. alicia was stable, but obviously comatose, and otherwise healthy. annie found herself weirdly compelled by alicia, and so asked tom questions about her.
alicia apparently worked in marketing for a company with offices L.A., NYC, and Chicago, and so spent her time floating between them. she had always been close with her parents and tom and rarely seemed to have time for friends. she picked up a lot of hobbies, though, and was skilled at a lot of crafts, and also juggling. he told her that alicia had never had anyone she called a girlfriend or boyfriend, but he knew that she was "always fucking someone."
"for a while," he told annie. "she was between apartments here, and lived with me and my girlfriend at the time," he said. "and she was getting railed like every single night. my girlfriend hated it."
"i hope you broke up with the prude," annie said.
"LOL," tom said. "i did, yeah."
annie asked tom if he wanted to meet for drinks a few days before she was set to meet his parents. he said yes, and so they met in the city that evening. he was tall and handsome.
"so do you guys vet all the women who give alicia strokes?" annie asked.
"this is the first time it has happened during sex," he said. "i think that is a compliment to you."
"yeah i am going to interpret it as such," annie said.
tom was presently single, he'd recently had an engagement broken off.
"why?" annie asked, not even apologizing for being nosy.
"we were just incompatible," he said. "i think i value relationships over things like, my career. and she was the opposite."
"i see," annie said.
"are there careerist therapists?" he asked.
"i guess," annie said. "the ones who want to write a book or become like, a social media star. i just like a pretty office and a steady income and feeling like i at least sometimes help people."
"have you ever been close to getting married?" he asked.
"not really," annie said. "i might have thought so. basically until my career really started i was kind of a monogamy addict, and i kept falling into long term committed relationships that didn't make me happy. for the last year i've really just been in casual situations and i am much happier."
"that's what i need, i think," tom said.
annie brought him back to her apartment. robbie was out, so they fucked and sucked for hours in the bed. tom had a great cock and great stamina. he loved annie's bush and was appreciative but not obsessive about her tits -- he turned her around to fuck her from behind a few times and annie really liked that, like he didn't need her tits in his face to be excited. he came on her ass and on her face.
"you gonna tell alicia about that when she wakes up or can i?" tom asked.
annie laughed. "has alicia ever seen your cock?" she asked him.
"you are such a therapist," he said. "straight to the family stuff."
"hey i haven't even asked about your mom yet," she said. "but has she?"
"yeah," tom said. "alicia has."
"when you were living together?"
"she walked in on me masturbating in the shower," he said.
"how did you feel about that?" annie said. "guys with big cocks tend not to be that concerned about being seen."
"yeah." he laughed. "i didn't mind. and she reacted positively."
"how so?" annie said.
"she said 'oh my god!' and then said 'that's a good oh my god!' and then clarified 'because you have a big dick!' and then she said 'oh my god!' again and left."
"did anything else come of it?"
"yeah," he laughed. "she came into my room in a towel and dropped the towel and said, 'we have to be even.'"
"was that the first time you'd seen her naked like, as an adult?"
"yeah," he said.
"she has great tits."
"yeah like you," tom said. "and like my mom."
"oh, that's good," annie said.
tom laughed. "why?"
"my mom doesn't have big tits and as soon as i developed she started to resent me, and my dad and my brother got like, really nice to me. as did every other man in the world."
"so it's good that my mom and alicia are on an even playing field?"
"good for their relationship, yes," annie said. "have you seen your mom naked?"
"all the time," he said. "she's not shy."
"how do they compare?"
"well, my mom is less tan and has more pubic hair and that's about it."
"how much more?" annie asked.
"well, as you know, alicia has none, and my mom has less than you," he said. "so there's not much, all day."
"i can't remember ever seeing my mom naked," annie said. "but when my brother goes home for weekends he says she will come into his room from the shower just fully nude and hang out."
"yeah," tom laughed. "that's not unfamiliar."
"really!?" annie laughed. "it's because you're tall."
"that does seem to make women want to get naked."
"has your mom seen your cock?"
"no."
"but she probably knows."
"my dad is about the same size as me," he said. "in all ways. i'm his clone and alicia is my mom's clone."
after that, tom got hard again, and so they fucked and this time annie took some pictures. she thought about using alicia's phone but decided not to. she gave it to Tom as he left the next morning.
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Live A Little | A Worth It AU | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist
In This Edition: You and Ralph rest and have a little reunion!
Words: 1.7k
"Oi!"
You wake with a jolt, panicked by the shout in your ear, and instinctively cover Ralph's body with your own. It's bright. Someone has removed the blanket that should be covering your heads.
"Easy, dearie, just making sure you're still alive." You look up, into the concerned eyes of a blonde woman. "How about your fella?"
You ease your body off of him and look down.
Why didn't that wake him? She shouted at you. You'd half-jumped on top of him. How deeply can one man sleep?
"Ralph?" you ask, giving his shoulder a nudge. He doesn't rouse. "Come on, Ralph." You touch the side of his face. Why he still so cold?
"Oh, my stars…" the woman whispers.
"Ralph!" you cry out, shaking his shoulder.
He groans and opens his eyes, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.
"S'wrong?"
"Nothing, sweetheart," you smile, tears of relief welling in your eyes. "Nothing at at all." You lean forward to kiss his temple, and he nuzzles his cold nose into your neck. You wrap an arm around him to keep him close.
"Have you eaten since you arrived?" the woman asks. She's perched on one of the chairs you've been hiding behind. You notice now that she's wearing a stewardess uniform.
"No," you answer.
"You stay right there," she instructs as she rises from her chair, as if you had the strength to go anywhere.
"Who's that?" Ralph asks.
"A stewardess," you answer. "Just checking on us."
"I'm so tired," he whines.
"I know, darling," you sigh.
"My head."
"I know, darling," you repeat. Yours is throbbing as well. Your throat is raw. You ache all over. You place a gentle kiss to his temple. If that would transfer all his suffering to you, you'd take it willingly.
"What's the time?"
"I… don't know." You lift your head a bit and squint into the bright lights of the room, looking for a window that'll tell you if it's night or day, but you can't see one. You let your head fall back to your coat, which is serving as a makeshift pillow.
"Here we are, my dears," the stewardess announces. She sets a tray on a nearby table. "It'll be much easier to eat your soup if you can sit up for me."
You and Ralph drag yourselves off the floor and lean your backs against the wall. The pain worsens when you sit. Your head is pounding. Every bone in your body aches.
"There we are," she smiles. She hands you each a bowl of soup with a spoon in it. "That'll warm you right up. Might even give you enough strength to get to a real bed."
"Thank you," you mumble. Ralph echoes your sentiments, and you both take your first spoonful of soup. It's heavenly.
"My name is Anna," the stewardess smiles. "Might I ask your names?"
You tell her, and she writes it down on a pad you hadn't noticed. She sees your eyes on it, and smiles.
"Lots of people looking for loved ones. We have hundreds of survivors on board, and everyone's all scattered. If someone asks for you, I have faces now. Are you looking for anyone?"
You give her Molly and Victoria's names, and she writes those down too.
"Would you like me to try and find you a room? Some of our passengers have given up their own cabins, hoping to make you poor dears more comfortable."
You look over at Ralph, struggling to lift his spoon, and shake your aching head.
"Here is fine," you tell her.
"That's perfectly alright," she smiles. "Eat your soup, I'll be back shortly."
When she leaves, you drop your spoon and drink your soup in a way that would make your mother die of embarrassment.
"Let me, love," you say as you reach for Ralph's soup. You set his spoon aside and hold his bowl to his mouth, letting him drink as you had. When the soup is gone, you dab at his cracked lips with your handkerchief.
It's the same one you'd used to draw him to his door. How many days ago had that been? It feels like a lifetime ago.
You tuck it back into your pocket with a sad smile, remembering how happy you both were that day.
"Would you like me to take those away?" You return your empty bowls to Anna with a quiet word of thanks. "If you need anything at all, just ask for Anna. Alright?"
You nod, but as she rises, a thought occurs to you.
"Wait," you call. She turns. "What day is it?"
"Today is Tuesday, April 16th, 1912. The time is," she consults a clock somewhere to her left, "7:16 am."
"Thank you," you whisper, ready to fall back on the floor and sleep for another few hours.
And that's exactly what you do. You and Ralph resume your positions on your makeshift bed, holding each other tight with blankets pulled over your heads, and fall back asleep… but a little warmer this time, thanks to the soup.
When you wake up again, you're a little less groggy. You take in your surroundings. A plaid blanket over your head, light streaming through a hole in the fabric. Your coat as a pillow. A pair of brown eyes staring into yours.
"Good… do you think it's morning or night?" you ask quietly.
"I don't know," Ralph whispers.
"Are you alright?"
Ralph's eyes fill with worry. He doesn't answer. You slide a little closer and take his hand in yours, giving his knuckles a kiss.
"We're alive, and we're together. I don't think we could ask for much more right now."
Ralph nods once in agreement.
"I think I need to get off of this floor, though," you groan, flipping onto your back and attempting to stretch. The blanket falls off of your face, and you squint at the light. At least your headache has lessened.
You and Ralph help each other off the floor. You stand stiffly and gaze out at the room. The stewardess from last night spots you and rushes over.
"Good afternoon!" she chirps.
"Is it afternoon?" you ask.
"It is 1:43 on the the afternoon of April 16th, 1912, and you are just in time for lunch. There are lavatories just down that hallway," she gestures to a door, "if you'd like to freshen up first."
You follow her instructions, briefly parting with Ralph to witness the horror of your reflection in the mirror. You do what you can, and return to the lounge feeling slightly more human. You sit at a table and eat quietly, hoping that your bread and soup gives you enough strength to stay awake for more than an hour.
"There you are!"
Before you can even look up, a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders from behind. Molly. It's Aunt Molly.
She pulls up a chair and sits with you and Ralph.
"I've been looking all over for you! Where have you two been?"
"Right here," you say weakly. "Sleeping."
"Keep eating, you need your strength. Are you alright?"
"Considering…" you trail off, having a vague memory of a doctor checking you and Ralph for frostbite sometime during the night. He's doing much better with his spoon now, you note proudly.
"Ralph, I saw your sister yesterday, but I don't know where she got off to."
"Oh," he says between bites.
You remember what she said to him that night at the lifeboats, and your blood begins to boil.
"Look at you, getting some color back in your cheeks already," Molly smiles, reaching out to pinch one in a way she knows you hate. "When you're feeling up to it, I'd like you to come to my room."
"Your room?" you question.
"They've moved some of the first-class passengers into cabins. I'm sharing one with Hettie - one of the gals I met in the Turkish baths. We can double up and make room for you. It's little, compared to the last one, but you're sure to be more comfortable in there than in here."
You look to Ralph. His eyes meet yours nervously.
"I'd rather stay here with Ralph."
You reach for his hand under the table and give it a squeeze, hoping he knows that you're never letting him go. Not now, not ever.
"Ralph's invited too, sweetheart," she says gently.
A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. Yours matches.
"It's settled, then," she says, leaning back in her chair. "Eat up, then we'll get you to a real bed."
A real bed? Your back spasms at the thought.
You finish your soup, gather your coats and blankets, and follow Molly to a small cabin.
"Hettie and I can share this one, if you're alright here?"
It's a tiny bed, meant for a servant or traveling companion. Just like the one you'd occupied on Titanic.
"I know it'll be tight, but it has to be better than sleeping on the floor in a room with a hundred other people."
"It's wonderful, Molly, thank you," you say gratefully. Ralph nods in agreement. You want desperately to fall into bed and stay there the rest of the day… but shouldn't you go find his sister? See if she cares that he's alive?
"I'm gonna go see what I can do to help, but why don't you two get settled in? Rest a little more? I'll let you know when it's dinnertime."
You nod, unable to argue with the suggestion of more sleep. Aunt Molly exits the room, leaving you alone with Ralph.
"How does she have so much energy?" he asks, blinking slowly.
"Not a clue," you yawn. "Bed?"
"Bed," Ralph confirms.
You ditch your shoes and a few layers of clothing and crawl into the tiny bed. You have to lie on your sides in order to fit. Ralph pulls the covers over your heads, just like you'd done in the lounge, and you drift off with a satisfied sigh.
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Ok, I'm thinking about like, the logistics of a no-chip au, right because...look, I got into star wars via @bytebun's observer's effect and immediately proceeded to write like 80k of mostly nightmare difficulty trolley problems stacked in trenchcoats, this should not be a surprise.
Anyway as far as I can see it there's basically two options when it comes to like, The Whole Vader Situation in a no-chip au:
Option one, aka the chosen one: right from the start, all the clones know not to kill anakin When The Time Comes, he's Marked Out, he's the Specialist Special Boy and don't you dare let him die he's sheevy's blorbo from the Temple and by the Force he will be the next sith apprentice slash...like, idk, genuinely not sure what sheevy's plan was for if anakin didn't by some unlikely event Fall, possibly just stick him in a robo-suit and sith chemical him into it anyway? mount him on the wall like a trophy?? Weird Unethical Experiment Time??? anyway. Option one is the obvious one, right, like, it's a plan, follow the plan, don't fuckin' kill skywalker, all the other Jedi are fucked though, don't get attached!
Benefits of this are: your entire clone army goes into knowing that like, the jedi general they have is Fucked. their time is Finite. there is an expiry date and if it's not in the war it's, well, at the end of the war. Like having a short lived pet, right, like, it's not a surprise when it dies and you kinda know it's only gonna be around for a year or two so there's only so attached you get. If you hate your jedi general, well, it's temporary! you can grit your teeth and get though the next couple of years knowing that you'll get to see the look on their face when you shoot them.
Drawbacks of this are: I mean, I guess if clones actually like their jedi it's kinda bad. you have to depend on every single clone not telling their jedi that psst hey you might wanna skedaddle for Reasons. also like, weird opsec, I assume, about the whole 'One Specialist Boy'.
So that's option one. it's the one I see the most often in no chip aus, which makes sense, cause, like, it's canon, basically. as much as a no-chip is canon, at this point. Works nice, gives a lot of room for crunchy angst/guilt/etc, solid option.
Option two, aka bucket of crabs with magnets: this is the one where anakin is not the specialist special boy ever, the One True Blorbo from the Temple. Or at least, not as far as the clones are concerned, who the fuck cares what skeevy sheev feels for Real. This is the option where all the clones know that -- well, most of the jedi are fucked. Most. Maybe one or two select jedi aren't, though, if they can be... talked around. proved to be worth keeping, under The Glorious Empire, even if it requires....a little bit of reeducation afterwards. The Emperor is on the look out for an Apprentice; a couple of Force sensitive attack dogs would be useful, too.
Benefits of this one are: no clone is gonna spill the beans, right. If you hate your jedi, well, they can die as in option one, grit your teeth and wait for the order to come down, and you 100% don't want them knowing about the possiblity of living into the empire because 1)opsec etc 2)they have to die bc the idea of being in The Glorious Empire but Master Jackass is still fucking around is like. a nightmare. fuck that.
If you like your jedi, though. You're not gonna spill the beans, either. Because you like your Jedi, and that means you want to give them the best possible chance at bein One Of The Chosen Few. Them finding out early will get them killed, or they'll share it with the wrong person and get killed.
It also means every battalion is basically pitted against eachother -- or at least, those who like their jedi are. Bucket of crabs but make it an army; there's only so many spots for force senstives in the empire, and there's a lot more jedi than there are spots. You're working with eachother because you want the empire and because you know everyone else wants the empire and the empire is inevitible, but also, your jedi has to survive. your jedi; not the one from the 414th or the 78th or the 631st the fucking 212th; every bit closer to securing one of those spots someone else's jedi gets is a bit closer to your jedi dying in a hail of blasterfire.
drawbacks of this are: your entire army is aware of the upcoming trolley problem, none of them trust anyone else to not pull the lever, and their solution is to shove each other's jedi in front of the trolley in the hopes that their specific jedi will be on the right side of the tracks when the trolley finally passes the junction. Tie 3 million carthorses to a meat grinder and accept that the most control you're really gonna get is a general direction.
Then again; it's a sith plot. probably having some amount of 3 million clones actively trying to ensure that their specific jedi will be the specifc jedi who survives to be part of the empire will turn out fine. what could go wrong.
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ATTENTION: BRAINDEAD POST INCOMING
i'm gonna marry him i swear to god. I promise. no kidding
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tag drop ✌️
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time for the tag drop palooza that is tags for mel (hang in there bestie) for you @crisispider & @sentimentalspider (lenny's next/tomorrow)
SPIDEYHAWK -> CRISISPIDER -> I wanna be barely hanging on I wanna be dancing dreaming bawling and weeping over you all of my life
SPIDEYHAWK -> 616 -> Familiarity is knowing his every line and crack even in the dark
PETER PARKER -> CRISISPIDER -> Dork with a big heart who cares about people and always puts others first even when he doesn't have to
SPIDEYHAWK -> WASTELANDS -> Something in the orange tells me we're not done
PARKER BARTONS -> The math ain't hard to do 'cause I choose you I choose you
MAYDAY PARKER -> SENTIMENTALSPIDER -> This little lady bug has landed here to stay to make my garden pretty and keep the weeds away
SPIDEYHAWK -> STAR TREK -> The day that I met you the world had just spit me out on my way to the bottom; fall into me and I'll catch you
SPIDEYHAWK -> MASS EFFECT -> If you'll be my star I'll be your sky you can hide underneath me and come out at night
SPIDEYHAWK -> DRAGON AGE -> I had been lost to you sunlight and flew like a moth to you sunlight oh sunlight oh your love is sunlight
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Losing your memory
Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader
Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you.
Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star
Word count: 7,2 k
~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~
You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.
A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.
But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)
The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.
Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.
And you hated him with all your heart.
Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.
You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.
You didn't know about that that night.
Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.
Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.
You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.
"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.
"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."
You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.
"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."
"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.
"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.
"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.
"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.
"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.
"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."
He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.
Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.
It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.
Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?
Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.
Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?
You didn't know.
And you didn't want to know.
The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.
Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.
"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.
"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.
"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."
"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."
"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.
"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.
Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.
After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.
You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.
His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.
Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.
However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.
Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.
You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.
"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.
"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."
"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."
"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.
"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.
You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?
But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.
And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.
Like a driven snow.
You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.
You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.
You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.
"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"
You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.
On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.
You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.
As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.
Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.
"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."
Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.
"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."
You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).
"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"
You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.
He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.
Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.
"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.
You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.
Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.
You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.
"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.
You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.
"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."
"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."
"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.
"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."
"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."
"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.
“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.
The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.
Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.
"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."
"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.
You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.
"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.
This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…
And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.
"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."
"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."
"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."
The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.
That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.
You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.
Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.
"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.
"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.
"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.
Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.
"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.
The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.
So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.
He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.
You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.
If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.
You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.
"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.
She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.
You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.
"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"
"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"
"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."
Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…
"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.
You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.
You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.
A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.
You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.
Y/N,
If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.)
Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.)
So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with.
I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not.
I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me.
Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more.
This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal.
You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them.
I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond.
So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol.
Do not wait for us both,
Sejanus
P.S. I miss you too.
You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.
You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.
You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.
"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.
"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"
"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.
"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.
"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"
"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.
"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.
"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.
"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"
"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."
"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.
You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.
"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."
"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.
"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.
His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.
"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."
"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."
"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."
"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."
"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."
"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."
"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.
"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.
"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.
"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."
"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."
You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?
You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.
Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.
And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.
And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.
You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.
He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.
You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.
You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.
"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."
"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."
"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.
"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.
"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."
"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.
You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.
"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.
You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.
And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.
Part 2
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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅸ)
hi everyone wow it's really been a while and i'm on list 9 already damnnn that's alot and list 10 is like half way complete already... soooo you might notice a change in the set up this time around i liked how it looked on my ao3 list so i added it here as well, i absolutely love this list like i've gone over this list a million times it's filled with alot of fics i was absolutely obsessed with, you know how attached i get to the characters and this list holds quite a few of them too so i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did and you fall for them too... remember to give lots of love to the authors of these fics they are absolute geniuses and deserve all the respect and love in this world for creating these beautiful fics and sharing it with us so be sure to give them a follow, like and reblog or even leave a little comment i'm 100% percent sure it would mean alot to them 🥺🖤 also as these fics contain smut no under minors allowed/interact... if you would like to share some of your favourites or just wanna ramble about fics you love send me an ask i love hearing from you guys and happy reading everyone till next time ✨🖤
a- angst s- smut f-fluff
series
dreamcatchers by @ggukcangetit f a
↬ DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.
block party by @minlucent f s a
↬ moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake. neighbours au e2l
a little bit of your heart by @yoongiofmine f s a ft. myg
↬ you had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with min yoongi. you knew you and yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything yoongi couldn’t. Will jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten yoongi enough to do something about it?
lost stars by @/yoongiofmine f s a
↬ Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. idol au s2l
secrets we keep by @/yoongiofmine f s a
↬ Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows you’re his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? idol au
i hate you, i love you by @jungblue s a
↬ You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you.
fatal attraction by @jungcock s a ft. kth
↬ your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one. exes au serial killer thriller
pub golf by @taleasnewastime f s
↬ One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. s2l
animal by @cutaepatootie f s a
↬ boxer jungkook au ANGST
things you don't know by @btsgotjams27 a
↬ It’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.
entangled by @caelesjjk f s a ft. kth
↬ Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man. He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well? Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.
when the end comes by @oddinary4bts f s a
↬ Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?
new girl by @jjkeverlast f s a
↬ after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong?
horizon by @/sokooks f s a
↬ The way you approached life had started to break down Jungkook's emotional barriers. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was drawn to you in a way that was entirely new and unfamiliar. You had become more than just an assignment; you had become someone he genuinely cared about. It was the way you made him feel. With you, he felt more human than he had in a long time. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, his heart had other plans. angel au
searching for nirvana by @/sokooks f s a
↬ he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't be touching you the way he was- but he was here before him. he was your friend, not him. he knew your body, not him. he wanted to be the only one to touch you the way you liked. he he wanted you to remember that. despite the fact that he already had someone waiting for him. best friends au cheating au.
twelve hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a
↬ you have twelve hours to make jeon jungkook fall in love with you. he's about to get married. you're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.
when it all... by @7deadlysinsfics f a
↬ what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on
better than me ? by @/7deadlysinsfics f s a
↬ jungkook is clear on what you both are to each other. still, he doesn’t want you to think anyone else is better than him
our first and our last by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft ot7
↬ The first time you met Jeon Jungkook was on your tenth birthday. On that day, he was nothing more than the strange man who jumped into a dark portal that suddenly opened in the middle of the park. The ten year old you just stood in the grass, strands of hair ruffling from the calm breeze that swooped by; head slightly tilted, bright, innocent eyes wide open and staring at him with wonder and disbelief. There was a certain amount of confusion, but your young mind was too naïve to question his actions or what they entailed. soulmate au
dancer in the dark by @gwoongi f s a
↬ Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him. rockstar au
together by @httpjeon f s a ft.pjm
↬domestic!au, couple!au, stoner!au, gamer!au
hot bot by @/httpjeon f s
↬ purchasing a Hot Bot wasn’t exactly something you ever really planned on. when you do, however, it sends your life down a path of convoluted government schemes and dark secrets.
stardust by @iamtaekooked f
↬ You didn’t believe in soulmates until you lay your eyes on Jeon Jeongguk, the younger brother of your best friend’s husband. That is when you see the red string beginning encircled around your pinky and ending in his
serendipity by @rohobi f s a
↬ After you reveal your inexperienced sexual status to your best friend, Jungkook grapples with the news, startled by the idea that the girl he always thought could get anyone, is a virgin. After finding his porn at 3AM, you decide that maybe it’s about time to stain the white sheets of your world with the colors of a forbidden fruit Jungkook seems to have in the palm of his hands.
chasing shadows by @colormepurplex2 s a
↬ Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PI’s around.
I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in by @inkofyoonkoo f s a
↬ In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past. s2l fwb au
sweet nothing by @adonis-koo f s a
↬ Being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
three's a crowd by @/adonis-koo s a ft. jimin
↬ When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation… ceo au
sleepwalking by @taexual f s a
↬ due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
empty space by @ahundredtimesover f s a
↬ It started as friendship, turned to a casual fuck, then ended in heartbreak. Turns out, he wasn’t who he said he was, and years later he enters your life again, forcing you to face all the emotions you’d been trying to bury.
OR Officer Jeon looks really hot in his uniform and you wish you didn’t hate him as much as you do.
as the world burns around us by @today-we-will-survive a
↬ You haven’t seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the world’s population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. You’re still surprised Seoul survived – if you can call what it has become “surviving”
hotter than hell by @chateautae f s a
↬ jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
to turn a bad thing good by @/chateautae f s a
↬ jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.
J’aime by @baepop f s a
↬ You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.
Written in the Stars by @/baepop f s a ft. kth
↬ You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend
make me forget by @roseannekook f s a
↬ You are the lead vocalist and main dancer of your company’s first girl group, but on the fourth promotion of your debut song things don’t go as planned. At the brink of an uprising scandal, you seek refuge in the bathroom stalls…and find it in the arms of no one else but BTS’ golden maknae Jeon Jungkook.
one of your girls by @ggukiepie s a ft. pjm
↬ fwb au college au fuck boy au inspired by the song
boy in luv by @/ggukiepie f s a
↬ just two idiot best friends in l*ve college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc
the boy who left by @/gujoonim a
↬ As your eyes staring deeply into your possible client-to-be’s eyes, something crossed your mind, it was that pair of eyes that you were looking for when you being abandoned at the aisle on your wedding day. ceo au
love sewn by @jvnghxope s a
↬ You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.
not yet by f s @bratkook f s a
↬ jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship.
one shot
blazes of deceit by @periminkle f a
↬ when the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls you’ve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lights—even if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide. tangled au disney au
southpaw by @starshapedkookie f s a
↬ Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.
house of cards by @jeonggukingdom s a
↬ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.
enouement by @littlemisskookie s a
↬ War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook. mulan au disney au
miss taken by @junghelioseok f s
↬you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience. single parent dilfjk jk e2l
the ex text by @shadowkoo f s a
↬ The 2 AM texts have started again. It’s a bittersweet familiarity that you can’t run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and you’ll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkook’s presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.
the proposal by @hansolmates f s a
↬Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. based on the movie the proposal e2l
red and gold by @/thedefinitionofbts f s
↬It’s no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. There’s nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money.
burning bright by @snackhobi s
↬there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you. based on the movie pacific rim
but we loved young by @jl-micasea-fics s a
↬Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.
the shoulder on which you cry by @lemonjoonah f s a ft. knj
↬ after moving away from your hometown five years ago, you’ve struggled on every return. each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. but when he can’t be there to support you during your current trip home, jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need.
illusion of choice by @hobibliophile f s a
↬ You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.
the blue princess and her red rose by @/cutaepatootie f s a
↬ After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. princess au
rigor mortis by @readyplayerhobi f s a
↬ A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.
lowkey by @joonbird s
↬ Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.
part-time lover by @sketchguk f s a
↬there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.
sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae a
↬ a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. inspired by the anime 'orange'
i'll be home by @wwilloww f s a ft.knj
↬ When your first love, Jungkook, disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man.
white lies by @noteguk f s a
↬ in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you.
yes coach by @/taleanewastime s
↬ You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point.
spf 50 by @gimmeyoon f s
↬ If you have to spend your summer home from college working a job you hate, it might as well include sitting by the pool with Jungkook. Now if only kids could stop vomiting in it.
fifth wish by @jiminrings f a
↬ jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.
blacklisted by @/httpjeon s a ft. kth
↬after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.
↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library
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miguel o'hara stars in... 'DOMESTIC BLISS' (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)
a/n~ i physically cannot write a fic about my favs w/o getting horny mid way through sorry ;( i just want miguel to wrap me up and brush my hair and hold me tight---- NNNNNNNNNNH (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
summary; miguel really likes your thighs…and how his cock looks between them.
wc; 700+
pairings; miguel o'hara x fem!reader
cw; SMUT!!, fluff, miguel and reader being cutesy, consensual somnophilia, thigh-fuckin, lil bit of blood, cummin inside, basically a breeding kink cause i said so, softdom! miguel, miguel being pussy whipped, sleepy sex, cumplay?, n e ways...not proofread - is one in the mornin
miguel loved nights like this. both of you wrapped up in warm, fluffy robes, and matching slippers - just enjoying each other’s company.
“babe, grab my headband for me please?”
walking over to where you were in the bathroom, he looks at your beautiful face through the mirror, sliding the cute headband on your head. “here, my love.” he trails a hand down your arm, wrapping it around your waist and he pulls you closer into him, your body pressed tightly against his rock solid chest. he doesn’t loosen his grip on you as you lean forward to wash your face, instead gripping your hips to hold you steady.
he still doesn’t let go of you when you walk over to your shared bed, tucking you under the covers and bringing you as close as he could to him. his face rested in the crook of your neck, lips pressing soft kisses against your warm skin. he really was the luckiest man in the world, blessed with this angel in front of him. his hands gently traced the curves of your body, the touch meant to be soothing but it was anything but for the throbbing he felt under the sheets.
he could hear you snoring quietly, the subtle rise and fall of your chest, the slenderness of your collarbones that were faintly littered with love bites. everything about you was just so perfect. especially those thighs of yours. those sexy, juicy, thighs - pressing against his. palming at your ass, he pulls you closer, if that was even possible - fingers moving to dip into your panti- oh, fuck, you weren’t wearing any.
this new revelation led to him fucking his thick cock through the tightness of your thighs, nudging your little clit with every thrust. he whimpers, actually whimpers, at the feeling, a sound he’d take to the grave - if you were awake right now, you would not let him live that down. but that didn’t matter right now, not when he was so close to painting those pretty thighs with his cum. or actually, why waste it? maybe he should just cum inside of you. it would save cleaning up in the morning, plus - you smelt so delicious after your shower, it’d be a shame to wash away that scent and his cum.
he angles his hips upwards, one hand on yours waist and the other keeping your head up as you sleep - the leaky tip of his cock pressing against your tight pussy. he doesn’t want to disturb your sleep, especially since you’re so cute when you sleep, so he only pushes the tip in - a faint pop! echoing through the room as he slips inside of you. “fuck, baby, s-such a tight pussy - isn’t she? looks like ‘m gonna have to stretch her out some more, hm?” soft whispers fall upon deaf ears, chuckling silently to himself as the sounds of your snoring get louder.
the constant suctioning on his tip was driving him mad, brows furrowed tightly as he threw his head back against the plush pillows. biting his lips so hard he draws blood, the ruby liquid running down his neck as he stares down at his cock disappearing between your thighs - thighs that we’re starting to…move? you seemed to be regaining some sort of consciousness, small breathy moans left your plump lips, eyes blinking open as you turned to look at him.
he was so caught up in your pussy, he didn’t even register your hand coming to push him deeper into your quivering cunt. your soft hand wrapping around him set him off, his hot, sticky, cum shooting straight against your womb as you take him all the way to the base. the other hand rests on his lower stomach running along the trail of hair that you love oh, so much - fucking yourself on his cock whilst he shoots white ropes along your walls.
“p-princess- mmph, shit- didn’t…i didn’t mean to wake you.” he really means that, he truly didn’t want to ruin your beauty sleep - but he couldn’t help but rub tight, slow, circles on your sticky clit, speaking lowly into your ear. “go back to sleep, beautiful, papí will take care of you, ‘kay?”
i mean shit, back to sleep we go!
-ONE CHANCE, JST ONE CHANCE MIGUEL
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IS IT OVER NOW? - SUGURU GETO (ft. SATORU GOJO)
summary: suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave -- for him and his best friend.
contents: 18+ only, smut, mentions of cheating, swearing, spoilers for vol. 0 + star plasma vessel and premature death arc, so much angst, but also too much smut (gotta earn that smut by getting through the angst), multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (f + m receiving), slight choking, panty play, overstimulation (f receiving)
wc: 11,150 (why do i do this)
playlist: is it over now - taylor swift, now that we don't talk - taylor swift, you are in love - taylor swift, say don't go - taylor swift
“It’s over,” the words slipped out of his mouth like second nature, the same way “I love yous” left his lips with a smile against your neck, but now those same lips were in a tight line. His eyes once filled with mirth, now stared at you with nothing in them — nothing but empty truth.
You don’t believe your ears — and how could you? The same man who laid with you on sleepless nights, in the silence of the way home after brutal losses, mornings spent in his wrinkled uniform white button up, stupid arguments ended in laughter, and the whispered promises kept like oaths in your hearts.
But now, they were broken — broken like your heart was.
“It’s over, I’m sorry — I can’t do this anymore,” and you’re stepping forward over this ravine with a snapping tightrope, but he’s on the other side with a lighter and a knife — daring you to cross it. Because he wouldn’t catch you — not anymore, “it’s not you—“
“Don’t give me bullshit assurances, Suguru,” you spit, the same name you had woken up this morning on your lips, all the love he had fostered over two and half years eroding away with his few words — slipping into hatred without another word, “give me a reason, I know Amanai and Haibara hurt you — hell, it hurt me too, but—“
“Don’t bring them up—“ he seethes, the same passion he once had for you — for even a scratch you had gotten from a mission that he promised to make a curse pay for again and again by making it serve him — now used for people who weren’t even here anymore, “it has nothing to do with them,”
And you almost laugh. It had everything to do with them. You had watched him fall apart over this summer — scapegoat the summer heat to Satoru’s face, when it wasn’t the heat that was withering him to nothing — a wilting flower simmered under the heat of loss. And with no one who could reach him — because he wouldn’t let them.
“You know that’s not true—”
“I cheated on you,” and the words die on your lips — along with any hope you had, “it was a stupid mistake but it showed me we can’t keep doing this,”
“You’re lying,” you denied it — no, no, no.
“I’m not,” and you can’t make sense of it, sense of anything, images of him tangled with another assaulting your senses — assaulting your heart, your soul, your body — bile rising in your throat that seared you on the way down as you swallow, “I didn’t want to have to tell you, but if it’s the only way for you to accept this, so be it,”
“Fuck off, you didn’t want to ‘have to tell me,’” hot, angry tears burning at your eyes, “fuck you,”
“Sweet—“
“You don’t get to call me that,” you snarl, heart rattling your ribs, as if it was trying to break through its bony cage, as if puncturing itself on the shards of your bones would hurt less, “not unless you’re trying to fix this,” you bargain, bargain for a love that was already lost.
“We can’t do this — I can’t do this to you,” and you give a watery chuckle, unable to meet his gaze; meet the gaze you once thought was your salvation — the thing you fought day in and day out to come home to, “I’m sorr—”
“Don’t bother,” you bottle the sadness in a barely kept shut box, shoved beneath your icy exterior, ice crawling over the recesses of your shattered soul, “don’t apologize for me for something you chose to do,” and you turn to walk away.
“Where are you going?”
And you give a terse chuckle, turning to look back, “you don’t get to care anymore, Geto.”
~~~
It was necessary. It was necessary. It was necessary.
That’s what Suguru keeps telling himself. He was caught in a tailspin, a tailspin that was only leading him one place, and he couldn’t take you with him. He couldn’t let that happen. But you keep haunting his thoughts, along with the other ghosts holed up in his head.
He hasn’t seen you in weeks. Only sporadic updates from Shoko when she humored his questions with a bribe of free cigarettes — and he didn’t know what you had told her but he knew you hadn’t told her that he had cheated (because Shoko would have surely ignored him). Shoko had even snuck a picture of you. You had grown your hair out, eyes no longer full of the joy as it once had been, and a cigarette you had said you had sworn you would never smoke between your lips.
And it only makes him want to pull the cigarette from your lips and kiss you again, swallow the smoke poisoning your lungs, hoping your lips would clear the poison from his system. But he couldn’t — he couldn’t go back now. Not when he couldn’t shake the darkness that crept over his soul — he couldn't go back to that spring, because those old days had died along with everyone else around him. Shot through the head just like Amanai.
He stares at the picture and it only makes him more sure — he can’t be in your life. He can’t be yours, he can’t even be your friend — because he can’t pretend it’s just platonic — can’t pretend it means nothing — not when you can see right through him, see the light fading from inside him, and you’d try to save him. Because that’s what you do. So he pays the cost instead, the cost of losing you — of losing your smiles, your laughs, your tears, and your voice.
And he didn’t even have his dignity — he had left that behind when he had lied to your face. Lied because he knew it was the only way you’d leave, and he couldn’t risk you staying. He couldn’t let your fingers dig into his sides, as he let himself drown, he couldn’t watch you choke on water along with him — no, no, it couldn’t happen.
He had long drowned — on that beach in Okinawa.
He got a phone call — Yaga — likely with another mission, and he only can think about Tsukomo’s words — over and over and over. He was treating the symptoms, eradicating curses day in and day out, he himself was a symptom of a broken system — a broken sorcerer.
And he flips his phone open, staring at the screensaver of you and him, your sleepy smile as you look up at the camera nuzzled against his chest — filled with the same love in your eyes that he watched drain from your eyes when he fed you perfectly prepared lies.
“Hello, yes, I’m available for a mission,” he hears Yaga give him the details of the mission on the other line, but it barely registers.
But at least he wouldn’t break you too.
~~~
You wake to a pounding at the door — the one time you had gotten time off, the one time you had taken the vacation you swore you would, the vacation that you would have your phone off, doors locked, no communication with anyone with Jujutsu Tech.
And yet.
There was someone banging on your door at 11:09 PM at night.
You stare at your ceiling at the spinning fan above you, and you couldn’t imagine how this night could get any worse. You throw off your covers, only in sleep shorts and a t-shirt, grumbling as you meander your way to the door to find Satoru, standing at your doorstep.
Your heart drops.
“What— did—“
“Suguru defected,” and you stare at him, as if he’s speaking a foreign language — two words made no sense in that order, no, no — he wouldn’t do that. Suguru out of anyone wouldn’t do that.
“No, that can’t—“ and Satoru comes inside, brushing past you, “Satoru—“
“It’s not just that,” he says softly, “he slaughtered a village, and his parents,” and you’re shaking your head, “why are you shaking your head—“
“What kind of weird prank is this, Satoru— he wouldn’t—“ and your voice dies in his throat as you see the look on his face, and all other words fade away from your lips except one — “why?”
And he explains — tells you what Suguru had told him, what had happened, why he left — “I couldn’t bring myself to kill him,” he murmurs, shaking his head, “I should have — if I had done what he did, Suguru wouldn’t have hesitated—“
“He wouldn’t have been able to do that to you, Satoru,” you scoff, leaning against your couch, Satoru sat beside you, “you’re the most important person to him, he wouldn’t have been able to even fathom the idea of hurting you. He would have just tried to convince you to change your mind,”
He gives a bitter chuckle, “Well then, he would have been able to change my mind all the same,” he’s holding his face, as if it would keep himself from falling to pieces — but his hands are too late — you can see the broken pieces of what was Satoru Gojo in front of you.
“Satoru, you can’t put Suguru upon yourself to save — he made the choices he made, you can’t change them. You can’t fix a person who doesn’t want to be fixed,” and maybe you were projecting — but you swore you saw the same pain, the same pain the day he broken your heart in Satoru’s eyes, “Suguru is smart enough to know where this road is leading—”
“And why can’t I completely blame him for choosing it?” he murmurs, his cerulean eyes finally meeting yours over the rim of his sunglasses, “I understand how he feels — so do you, you’ve seen the broken system, the deaths that could have been prevented—”
“But is this the way to fix it with innocent peoples’ blood on our hands?” you whisper, almost afraid to hear his answer, “I have friends who aren’t sorcerers — would he have me slaughter them too?”
“Well, he killed his own parents, so I wouldn’t doubt that,” he shakes his head, “Suguru was never the type to do things half-heartedly,” and his gaze falls again to the floor, “do you know after I had retrieved Amanai’s body — I asked Suguru if we should kill all of those people in the Star Religious Group?”
“Satoru—”
“He said there would be no point in it — no reason,” and he’s licking his lips, pulling his glasses off, “but he found his reason now, didn’t he?”
“Satoru, you had just come off Amanai, almost dying, you had barely a moment to process—”
“Why did he tell me to stop? Why did he save me when he couldn’t do himself the same courtesy?” And he’s rising to his feet, pacing the room, unable to sit still, “I thought I’d come here and talk to you because who else could understand him more than me? Shoko maybe, but even she doesn’t know,” his fists are clenched at his sides, as he whirls to face you again, “Why? I don’t understand how a person can change so much — how can you go from protecting the weak to—”
“Satoru, I don’t know why Suguru does the things he does—did you forget? He broke up with me,” the words reopen old wounds you thought had long scarred over, flesh wounds that had ripped you open, but had closed back up, now bleeding like new, “and he cheated on me,” and walked away without another word — twisting the knife with his silence.
Satoru’s brows knit together, his mouth opening as if to dispute it, but closing again — because if Suguru could murder his own parents, why wouldn’t he cheat on his girlfriend?
“I’m sorry—” and you laugh bitterly, meeting his gaze.
“I think we have bigger problems than his unfaithfulness,” and he says nothing, “what are we going to do about him?”
“Nothing—”
You stare at him, lips parted, “Satoru—”
“I can’t kill him,” his voice breaks, and it breaks you too, “I couldn’t bear it. I can’t be the one to—”
“But you’re the only one who can—” and you swallow the lump in your throat — how could you tell him to kill Suguru when you couldn’t imagine doing it either? “then what do we do?”
“Nothing, for now,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, “I’ll monitor his moves as best I can, he’s good at covering his tracks — he knows how I operate more than anyone else does,” he says softly, “but not many can hide from the six eyes,”
“And you know how he does things too, Satoru,” you find your way his side, your fingers finding his, “it will take time for Suguru to make large moves — especially if he has two young children with him right now,” your heart aches at the thought — he promised to marry you one day, promised you a family once you both had settled down enough to consider it, and now he had two kids. But you weren’t with him.
His eyes find yours, “i’m sorry about what happened — I wasn’t there — I haven’t been here, at all—”
“You don’t have to apologize for that, Satoru,” and he’s shaking his head.
“Maybe I could have—”
“You can’t fix the whole world, Satoru,” you whisper gently, “you’re the strongest, yes, but that doesn't mean you can be everywhere and do everything,”
“I should have been here,” and you’re shaking your head, “I could’ve—”
“You couldn’t have, do you know how stubborn Suguru is? We couldn’t even convince him to cut his hair, much less change his mind about committing mass murder,” and he sighs, his eyes falling and rising to yours again, “hey, you’re okay, you know. You do too much, honestly, everything you’ve done — everything you will do—”
“And yet it will never feel like enough,” and you feel as if you could hear the same words leaving Suguru’s mouth too — the two had more in common than they had cared to admit.
“You are enough,” and your fingers find his cheek, “just as Satoru, you are,”
And his arms are pulling you into a hug then, head buried in your shoulder, his body consuming you with its warmth, your fingers running through his snowy locks, his tears wetting your shirt, but you say nothing, only holding him.
He pulls back after a few minutes, but his arms still wrapped around you, as he stares at you, barely any evidence of his tears, except for the redness on the tip of his nose, “You’re enough too,”
“I don’t know about that,” you joke, and he’s cutting you off with sharp words and a sharper look.
“You are, sweetheart,” and the familiar pet name makes your heart ache, “you’re more than enough,” and his palm is resting against his cheek, thumb rubbing the length of your cheek, “you’re so much more than you even know,”
And your breath catches as he draws near, “Satoru—” you shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. It wasn’t right. But why did his hands feel so nice against your cheeks? Why were you melting into his touch? Why didn’t you pull away?
“I just want to feel something else,” his hand is sliding into your hair, fingers pressed against your neck, “don’t you?”
And your lips find his first, lips brushing at first — and he’s so soft, his breath catching when you do, your fingers against his cheeks, and he’s pulling you back in again — it’s gravity. Again and again your lips meet, less hesitant with each kiss and each touch.
This shouldn’t be happening. You needed to stop it — Suguru had always teased that his best friend had a thing for you — hell, Satoru had all but admitted it with teasing words and promises to steal you away if Suguru ever had fumbled your relationship. But you knew he’d never would do it.
Or you thought he never would do it.
His hands slide down your body, pulling your hips closer to his, “tell me stop, if you want me to,” he murmurs, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, “I want—”
And you’re kissing him again, pulling him along your living room to your bedroom, “I don’t want to stop,” you breathe, you want something else, you want Suguru’s touch cleansed from your body, you want something more — you want to be wanted.
It had been so long since you had been wanted. The last few months with Suguru felt like an exercise in futility. You barely saw him, much less touched him — mission after mission, and excuse after excuse, piled onto the pyre waiting to burn your love for him alive. How long had it been since you had even kissed him? Each time you tried would end in him pulling away, shaking his head and telling you he was tired.
And he was. He was tired — tired of his work, tired of jujutsu society, and tired of you.
But he didn’t have the courtesy to let you know.
But Satoru…
His fingers are quick to get you naked, deftly pulling your t-shirt over your head, as your fingers tug his jacket off with the same eagerness, “Eager, are we?” he murmurs, half hearted teasing, a ghost of a smile on his lips as you pout, “don’t worry, I am too, baby,” as your fingers tug his sunglasses off, and place them on your nightstand.
You roll your eyes, “Satoru—” and he’s swallowing your retort with his lips — and you can’t help but compare them in your mind, he was so much more aggressive than Suguru was. Suguru’s hands slid over your hips and thighs as if he had all the time in the world, while Satoru’s clung to you desperately, as if you’d dissipate under his fingertips, “should we be doing this? Suguru—“
“Cheated. Murdered. Left us,” And his lips slide from his lips to your jaw, before his teeth graze right under your jaw, drawing a gasp from your lips.
And his lips curl, “Such a pretty noise, just f’me,” and he’s biting and sucking, surely leaving a lovely mark against your skin, his tongue tracing over the mark, “did you make noises like that for Suguru?”
“Satoru—” and his fingers are tugging at your bra, teasing your erect nipples as he’s only tugging the garment down, “fuck—” and his lips kiss your tit, while he’s rolling the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “please,”
“Did you beg him like that too?” his fingers pull at the waistband of your shorts, teasing the skin underneath, “no wonder Suguru kept you for yourself,” he’s tugging off your shorts down your legs.
“Can we not talk about him if we aren’t gonna talk—” and his lips find yours again, teeth baring down on your bottom lip, “Satoru—” you gasp as he pulls at your lip, thumb sliding over the kiss bitten flesh.
“How can we not?” he murmurs, as his hands slide up your thighs to squeeze your ass, “is this the bed he fucked you on? Is this the way he touched you?” and he’s parting your thighs, large palms holding you apart, as his half lidded eyes linger on the wet patch on your panties, “is this how wet you got for him? Am I special?”
“Oh, fuck off—” and your words fall away as his finger presses against the wet patch, thumb against your puffy clit while his fingers tease your aching cunt.
“What was that, baby?” and he’s grinning, and he spares you, dragging your ruined underwear down, and he’s leaning down to your sopping pussy only to press teasing kisses to your inner thigh, before his lips press against your clit, “so fucking wet,” and he inhales, a languid moan leaving his lips, “if you taste as good as you smell, I’ll be cumming in my pants before I even fuck your pretty cunt,”
And his fingers sink into you — two at once, making your lips part, teasing your pussy open, the lewd sounds fill your ears as your slick squelches against his fingers, “Hear that? Such a greedy cunt, swallowing my fingers up even when I try to pull out,” and he’s pumping faster now, fingers curling against your walls, making you moan far too loudly, “moaning like that, and I’ve barely even started,” he hums, before his breath is warming your slick cunt as a warning as his tongue begins to lap at your clit, again and again.
“Fuck, Toru, need more—” His other hand is only grabbing you, pulling you impossibly closer as a third finger finds its way into you, and your hips move against his touch, begging him to fuck you in earnest. But he’s unrelenting. You can hear him swallow around you, every flutter of your cunt made just for him, as he nearly growls against you, vibrations only making you nearly grind yourself against his fingers and mouth. His tongue circles your clit, toying with it, before his lips close over it and suck, nearly making you scream, “I’m cummin—”
And his fingers finally find the spot they had been looking for, again and again with deft precision, as your walls clench around his fingers, as you gasp, arching your back, as you cum, and he’s licking your essence up eagerly.
Grinning as he pulls his fingers from you, licking your cum from his digits, before lapping at your leaking cunt, making you twitch around nothing, “Fuck, needy pussy practically begging me to fill you, huh? Hehehe,” he’s looking up at you all fucked out, your thighs twitching, eyes blown out — meanwhile his lips, chin, and nose were painted in your essence, the most beautiful work of art you’d ever seen, “didn’t realize how much I wanted this,” and he’s licking up your cum off his face, and wiping the rest on the back of his hand, and he’s climbing back over you, dragging his clothed bulge over your still sensitive cunt, making you both groan, “and I guess neither did you,”
You’re still looking up at him with lust filled eyes, as your fingers find his cheeks, “aren’t you wearing far too many clothes still?” and he’s smiling, “wanna help me out with that, sweetheart?” he asks, as his fingers press your boobs together, thumbs flicking against the abused nipples, cock twitching against your cunt as if he was imaging what it would feel like to blow his load right between them, his warm cum all over your face—
And you’re flipping him in a moment, pinned underneath you, as your fingers undo each button of his now definitely creased white button up, damp with your cum, as your palms drag over the exposed skin of his chest and abs, “Can’t wait to fuck myself on this later,” you murmur, leaning down to drag your tongue up his stomach, making him gasp deliciously, before your fingers busy themselves with undoing his belt, the click of the buckle only making you ache more, as you undo the zipper of his pants, tugging his boxers along with them to bunch at his feet hanging off your too small of a bed, and you can’t stop the gasp that leaves your lips.
He’s so fucking big.
Suguru was big, so fucking big that the first time he fucked you, he couldn’t even fit in your tight cunt. He had to give you multiple orgasms, prep you right, stretching you out with his fingers and tongue, and even a dildo, until you could fit himself with lube. And Satoru definitely wasn’t as thick as Suguru, but he made up for that in length — fuck, how deep would that reach? A pretty curve at the end with lovely veins running up that made your mouth water, white pubes dotting along it that were shaved, but grown out — likely from being away on missions for so long.
“You can take a picture, it’d last longer,” and your eyes snap up to the smirk on his lips, “although I tend to last very long,” he’s shrugging out of his shirt and kicking off his pants, before he’s pinning you under him again, “and if you do, maybe I can take a picture of you, full of my cum, my cock fucking it back in — it’s only fair, right, pretty?” and you shiver, as his finally unclothed cock bumps against your cunt, “oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you? I’ll make it my screensaver, you’d like wouldn’t you, filthy girl?”
And your fingers wrap around his cock, finally making him shut up with a hiss, “Gonna talk all night, or you gonna fuck me, Toru?” and he barks out a laugh, but it's consumed by a moan as you stroke him, leaning up to kiss along his jaw, “you gonna fuck the same hole your best friend did? Gonna cum there too?” and he’s thickly swallowing, your words leaving the great Satoru Gojo speechless, “what? If you brought up Suguru, so can I, right? Only fair,” you echo his words, and you’re squeezing around the base of him, “well, are you—”
And he’s pulling your hand away, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock, dragging his pre-cum over your cunt, letting your cum mix together, “Fuuuuuck, baby, so fuckin’ gorgeous,” and he’s manhandling you, grabbing your thighs, and hooking your ankles over his shoulders, “gonna fuck you now, sweetheart, any complaints?”
He grins at the way you shake your head eagerly, hips nearly grinding against his cock, and his tip sinks past your walls, “so tight, baby, did Suguru not fuck you right?” You can’t manage a reply, as you grasp at his shoulders, pulling him closer, as he sinks into you inch by inch, his brow furrowed beautifully as he finally bottoms out with a groan, “s’good f’me, so perfect—“ your walls flutter around him, your slick soaking him, and he’s tilting your head by your chin to make you look at where he’s sunk into you.
And he’s pulling out before sinking back in, and you’re gasping and squeezing him — how was he possibly deeper? “Fuck, baby, your cunt is trying snap me half,” and his hips are slapping against you as he fucks you in earnest, the squeaks of your mattress as he thrusts in and out and the lewd squelch of your pussy as it wraps around every inch and vein of his cock, “that’s it, that’s it, take me, take every inch of me,” and his balls are slapping against your ass, “did you take Suguru this well? Did you ever take anyone this well?”
And you’re a mess of just moans as he’s fucking you again and again, as he cups your chin, “I didn’t hear an answer or did the I fuck the words out of you too, baby?” He’s kissing you again, swallowing your noises with lips curled, before he’s pulling away with a groan, “can’t hear myself think with how loud you are — so fucking wet,”
“S’close, Toru, I-“ and he’s grunting, nodding, as he watches you, his cerulean eyes stare at you, right as his tip brushes your cervix—
“Cum for me baby, let me watch you cum around my cock,” and his fingers reach down between the two of you and rub against your clit, making your eyes roll back, as you fall apart around him.
Your walls are fluttering around him as you cum, moaning his name on your lips, as he pistons in and out again and again, thrusts stuttering as your walls squeeze him tight, “baby, I’m gonna cum, where do you want me—“
“Inside—please need to feel you cum—“ and you’re moaning, pulling him impossibly closer, and he’s sinks deep into you, and cums. He’s spurting his thick load into you, fucking it into you deeper and deeper, until you’re so full of him and his cum, you can barely feel anything else.
He’s slipping your legs off his shoulders, before collapsing on top of you, sinking into your arms. He’s pulling out, watching your mixed releases slip out of you with a groan, “how are you so fucking perfect?” He’s finding your lips in a kiss, before his nose nuzzles your neck, as your highs wear down.
Your fingers run through his white strands, “shouldn’t I be asking you that?” And he laughs, settling on your chest. And for a moment you forget — you forget the nights you spent with Suguru in this bed, the nights spent in tangled sheets with whispered nothings, with his arms around you, just like Satoru’s were now.
But only for a moment.
And as Satoru’s soft snores filled your ears, the only thing on your mind was the one person who you wanted in your bed right now.
~~~
“Still asleep?” your fingers run through his hair, “such a lazy-bones on your days off,” and your lips trace over his jaw, making his lips curl despite the draw of sleep, “gonna leave me hanging after last night?”
And your lips find his, sliding over his with practiced ease, the same way you breathed — it was natural, as his fingers find purchase in your hair, sliding back to your neck. Again and again, your lips cannot part his, if you can’t breathe without him — cannot exist without his touch.
And when you do part, he’s smiling, black fringe falling in his eyes, “So needy in the morning,” Suguru’s voice is gravelly with sleep, even as your fingers card through his black locks, “when did you become such an early riser? Usually I’m the one dragging you out of this bed kicking and screaming,”
Usually, but he’s the one who's struggling out of bed these days. He’s struggling to even function — lifting his arms in the shower feels like too much effort — and what’s the point? Would anything change if he left his bed today? Couldn’t he escape into the recesses of his unconscious for the rest of the day?
But you’re here — and you’re leaning over him, your lips curled in that smile that damned him into submission, because what could he do except submit to you — “who said anything about leaving this bed?”
But he needed to leave this bed, he thought, as your lips found his again — and how did you always taste so sweet? — he needed to leave these warm covers and inviting embrace. Because he couldn’t stay here.
He couldn’t stay with you.
But then your lips find his, and he can’t bring himself to stop, not when you’re climbing on top of him, straddling his waist, his growing bulge tenting in his boxers. He can he stop when you’re murmuring his name like that, eager fingers tugging the damp fabric down, letting his dick slap against his stomach — a bead of precum that you lean down, your tongue darting out to taste.
And he hisses, as your fingers wrap around him, teasing the head of his cock, thumb dragging over the slit, “sweetheart—“ he's warning — but you know he’s all bark and no bite — but he would be biting you later surely, with the way you toy with him — both his cock and his feelings.
Your mere presence in his bed has him questioning himself — questioning how necessary is it to end things? Why does he need to? He had this future planned — a certain way things were to go — he was the strongest, him and Satoru, he was going to work and settle down later, marry you, maybe even a kid or two — but now — the plans had changed.
He had changed.
Satoru was the strongest. Not him. And work as a sorcerer was killing him now, as you and Satoru were sent farther and further away, and Shoko had resigned herself to medicine — what did he have? Another year of this hell — he didn’t even know if he could last another day of swallowing curses. It had become second nature to him, but without a purpose, without a reason without any principles to guide him — it became worse than torture.
It was his personal hell.
And yet, as your soft lips closed around his leaking tip, fingers playing with his balls, as you sank your mouth onto him, drawing soft moans from his lips — he didn’t wanna give it up. How could he, when you were here? He could burn his life down to ash, watch what he worked for, what he had thought was his purpose fall to pieces in front of him — let himself fall to pieces — but that would mean burning you along with it.
And could he bear that?
Your tongue flicked against his length, tracing his veins as his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him, as his fingers settled in your hair, “fuck, sweetheart, s’fucking good f’me,” and his hips shallowly thrust into your mouth, “take me so well, practically swallowing my dick,” and you swallow around him, pulling a moan from his mouth, his eyes flitting down to see the telltale press of your thighs together, “such a filthy girl, look at you, probably dripping wet from sucking me off,”
And he’s tugging you off, strings of spit and his precum connecting your lips to his aching dick, “Sugu—“ your lips are red and puffy, parted still, with cum and spit slipping down the corner of your mouth.
And he’s pulling you on top of him, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs, hissing as the damp fabric of your far too thin sleep shorts press against his still sensitive cock, “don’t even have to get you ready baby, already all prepped from just tasting me, aren’t you?”
He shouldn’t be doing this — he told himself today would be the day, he promised himself he’d stop pretending everything was fine. But when you felt so perfect on him — soft skin and soft sighs, your little gasp you gave when his fingers slide his t-shirt — the one full of small holes you had stolen from him when you first spent the night that you refused to throw out — up and over your head, exposing your chest to him — how can he stop?
“Suguru, please,” you whimpered as his mouth took one nipple in his mouth, warm tongue flicking against the pebbled flesh before his teeth graze it, pulling another hallowed moan from your lips, “need you,”
“Do you?” He hums, half teasing, half truthful — did you need him? Would you fall apart when he left? Would he spend nights wondering if you were anxious without him? Spend days wondering how you were filling them without him?
And you pause, strange look on your face, as your eyes scan over his features, palm sliding over his face, “of course I do,” passion falls away for a moment replaced with a different intimacy, “you’re my best friend,” and your lips slide over his as you lean down, “I’ll always need you, even when we’re both dust — I hope we spend it bathed in sunshine together,”
But would you? His eyes can’t meet yours — because he can’t see the sun in his future, only a dark descent into madness — a future spent alone. Because even with your smile at the end of his days, he couldn’t imagine spending another minute doing thankless work for miserable, ignorant, weak monkeys, only to do it all over again the next day. And his silence has you questioning him, but it’s like water fills his lungs, paralyzed by his own thoughts, and even as concern fills your eyes, he still can’t find anything to say.
So you say it instead.
“C’me here,” you murmur, and your hands slide over him, “I love you,” you kiss him all over his face — his nose, his cheeks, his chin, his forehead, before your lips hover before his, “can I—“
And he’s flipping you under him, pressing bruising kisses to your lips, as his fingers snake between your thighs, “you don’t need to ask— you never need to ask me,” he whispers in the dark, but even so, he knows — it can’t stay like this — even as he pulls your shorts down to bunch around your ankles and presses his leaking tip your messy folds — it can’t — because you were meant to live in the sunshine.
And he hilts himself in you fully, inch by inch, until he’s groaning your name in a grunt — and he belonged in the dark silence.
He knows this would be the last time. It would be. Because he had to — he couldn’t wait. It was only a waiting game until he was called to another mission, time until he dragged himself lower — until he couldn’t blame the heat for his dark bags under his eyes and the lost weight.
He had to.
And as he fucks you to your orgasm, instead of your lips moaning his name, your hard eyes meet his, lips parting, “I hate you—“ and his hands curl around your neck, “I hate lying traitors,” you choke out as his fingers squeeze your neck.
SNAP.
And he jolts awake, as whispers fill his ears, as his heartbeat slows, “Master Geto?” His eyes flicker over, spotting Nanako and Mimiko trying to snap a chocolate bar in half, “can you help us?”
A dream. It was a dream.
And he’s helping the girls, as they curl up beside him, “are you okay, Master Geto? You were talking in your sleep,” Nanako asks, ever curious, “you looked like you were having a bad dream,”
“I was,” he admits, eyes fixed downward, trying to force the image of you choking below him from his eyes, “about someone I used to know,”
“Who?” Mimiko pipes up, nibbling on her chocolate, and he sighs, running his hands through their hair, a bittersweet smile on his lips — he could still feel your lips against his, the smell of your sweat, the feel of your body.
“Someone I loved — who I left, but I guess…I guess I miss them,” why was he spilling his guts to these two little girls? Ones who had been through far too much to hear about his petty problems.
“Then why don’t you talk to them?” Nanako asks, “maybe you can tell them to live with us,” and his lips curl sadly.
“I don’t think she would want to talk to me,” and why would you? After what he had said, what he had done, and what he was going to do.
“You can try,” Mimiko says, she bites a chunk out of her share of the chocolate bar, “you tried to save us and you did — maybe you can do the same thing — save her,”
And he considers it — maybe he didn’t have to drag you down. Maybe he wouldn’t be — maybe he’d be saving you. Saving you from a system that would only land you in a pile of bodies — just like Riko, just like Haibara.
Maybe — maybe he could. Maybe he could be enough for you. Enough for you to leave. Enough for you to stay. He could have his family — and have you too.
~~~~
He still had your key.
You hadn’t bothered to ask for it back — maybe you had forgotten, maybe you didn’t care — but a part of him hoped it was for another reason, maybe you wanted him to come back.
Even so, he didn’t know if it would still work — maybe you had the foresight to change the locks — but it does, sliding into the lock with ease, as the tumblers slide into place and he’s turning the knob into a silent apartment. And it plants a stubborn seed of hope in his chest, maybe it wasn’t so crazy — aside from breaking and entering — maybe he would find his way back to you.
You’re likely on your walk this morning still — the same way you started the weekend, a walk and visit to your local coffee shop where you got the same order each time, and then you’d spend an hour browsing the shops for something to read or make. He scans the apartment — he knows you’re on vacation this week, from what Shoko had told him last, before he had spoken to Satoru. You hadn’t heard of his news, but you probably did now — if Shoko hadn’t told you, he knew Satoru would have.
And he wonders how that conversation went. Wondered how angry you were. Wondered how much you must hate him now — maybe you even wanted to kill him. But the logical side of him knew you didn’t have the skill to do so — you were a grade 1 — a cut above the rest, but still, your abilities weren’t enough, but emotionally…he may let you kill him, if only to spare him the agony of having to kill you — but he knew it’d kill you just the same.
He can see his days spent here before — you had finally moved off campus, convincing Yaga to let you have your own place early before graduation. You two had celebrated being free of dorm rooms with far too little space and too thin walls (too many times Satoru had spoiled the moment by either banging on the wall, blasting polka music, or just with smug remarks about yours and Suguru’s lack of sleep). He sees himself sitting at the kitchen counter, your stools pressed close as the two of you read the paper together, or laughed about something Shoko had texted or something stupid Gojo had done to piss off Yaga over burnt toast you had only burned while he’s pressing his lips to you. Or evenings spent on the couch cuddling while a bad movie he had picked played, but he’s more preoccupied with teasing you with brushes of his fingers against your bare skin or burying his face in the crook of your neck. And nights spent in your bed, entangled together, his arms around you listening to you breathe, skin dappled in the moonlight that streamed in from the window, wondering how did you ever exist at the same time as him?
And then the front door swings open, as he steps out from the bedroom, and he hears a bag slip falling to the floor, groceries spilling out, and his gaze finds yours, “What—”
“I came to see you,” he moves closer, and you step back — and he’s stopping, he doesn’t see fear in your eyes, he sees hurt — and he almost thinks maybe fear would pain him less.
“Well, I’m here,” you cross your arms, unable to quite meet his eyes, “anything else?”
“Sweetheart—”
“You don’t get to call me that, Geto,” your words were sharp as a knife, and you were trying to cut — and you did, deep. He bites back the sting, as he stares at you — your hair was longer, your eyes had bags, but your lips were twisted with pain, when normally it’d be quirked in a smile pressed against his cheek, “what do you want? Unless I should just save myself the trouble and call Satoru or Yaga?”
“I came to get you,” he steps forward slowly, and you don’t move away this time, “let’s be together. I—”
“You murdered people, you murdered your parents, you left Jujutsu Tech, you broke my heart, you broke Satoru’s and Shoko’s — and you want me to come with you?” you shake your head, barking out a harsh laugh, “did you lose your grip on reality between all the damage you’ve caused?
“If you let me explain—”
“And why should I let you? Your silence these past months was enough for me, you not fighting for us was enough for me, you spiraling without letting me help you was enough for me,” and your voice breaks, “and you cheating on me was enough for me, enough for me to know it’s over.”
“It’s not over, it’s not. I tried to force it to be over. I lied to you, I lied to myself, and said it was over, but it’s not, it’s not,” and he’s so close in a moment, and he can smell the familiar scent of your perfume mixed with your sweat — lavender, hibiscus, and something all the more sweeter, “not when it’s us,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, “please—”
“Don’t do this,” you’re shaking your head, again and again, “don’t, don’t, don’t, please—”
“How can I not? How can I not when I was foolish enough not to the first time, pretty?” he’s murmuring, “I love you, I do, I never stopped,”
“No, you don’t—”
“I do, I do, I know I said a lot of things, I need you to know, I need to explain, if you just let me—” and his fingers are sliding along your jaw, and finds uneven skin, and his eyes lingers, as his fingers tilt your chin up to find a fresh hickey left underneath.
“I—” and he’s drawing you close, so close, his dark eyes narrowed to slits, a deadly silence that makes your skin prickle under his gaze, until he’s warming your lips with his breath.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” but the telltale sign of your breath catching, your chest heaving against his, your lips parted as your eyes can’t pull away from him, his grip is slack enough for you to pull away — but you don’t.
You can’t.
And his lips hover before yours, warming your own with his heated breath, “Kiss me, baby,” and your cheeks warm, butterflies erupting in your stomach, heat blooming wherever his other hand sneaks, dragging over your sides.
“Why should I?” you’re grumbling, but you’re staying right where he has you — right in his arms, and you don’t know why, “you want to kiss me so bad so you do it,”
And he clicks his tongue, fingers sliding behind your head, weaving into your hair and against the soft skin of the back of your neck, tugging you closer, “you kissed someone else with those lips, tasted them, maybe a day or two — were you this bratty with them?”
“Oh fuck off, Suguru, you’re one to talk—“ and his lips swallow your bitter words, tasting them on your tongue, as he parts your lips with a rough squeeze of your hips. And his lips only quirk when your moan rumbles against him, his calloused palms sliding between your thighs.
“You open your legs this easy for them?” he says when he’s pulling away from your mouth, thumb dragging over your swollen spit soaked lips, “how’s that fair? I’m your first, baby, and I’ll always be your favorite—“
And any retort is lost as his teeth drag over your jaw, lips closing right over the hickey he had hated so much, normally calm eyes filled with dark contempt, and he’s biting down, pinching your already bruised skin between his teeth, sucking and soothing with his tongue, “Mine, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
You nod wordlessly, and his fingers slide forward, wrapping around the front of your neck, thumbing the hollow of your throat, “Use your words,” and there was something darker — something he had let you have glimpses of in moments of missions, of arguments, even in bed — but it wasn’t a glimpse now — it was the whole goddamn picture above you.
“I’m yours, Suguru,” you manage, words strangled by a moan as his lithe fingers tug at the waistband of your panties, making them rub against your drenched cunt, “please—”
“So pliant now, aren’t you?” he hums, as he pulls harder, making the wet fabric rub against your aching clit, “maybe I should make you cum this way, don’t know if you deserve my fingers or my mouth yet,”
You’re a mess — mind swimming in the need for pleasure, why did it always feel so right with him? So perfect. It shouldn’t be. He cheated on you. He slaughtered humans. He left you. He left you without telling you anything of what was plaguing him, until it was too late.
It was too late. He was too late.
So why were you letting his hands tear your panties apart as he fucked you with them?
Because — your fingers reach for his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him, again and again, as your lips parted and met — it was Suguru.
It was always Suguru.
“Please, Suguru, I need you, need more—ngh—” and the fabric of your panties snaps under his fingers, as he’s ripped them off, pocketing them without another word.
“Did you let him touch you?” he’s kissing down your body, wet kisses, his lips lingering at your pebbled nipples, sucking one, while squeezing the other between his thumb and forefinger, before he switches, kissing down your stomach — tongue teasing your belly button — before he’s finally settling between your thighs, his fringe unrulier than ever, strands of his long hair slipping from his bun, “Answer me, sweetheart,” he orders, as he presses mean fingers to part your thighs for him, surely leaving bruises with how hard he’s holding your soft flesh.
“I did,” you can’t manage the words to tell him who — how can you tell him his best friend fucked you? That you let Satoru fuck you the night you found out he left. It was one thing for him to cheat with a random person, it’s another for you to go and sleep with his best friend, “Suguru, please—”
“Mouth or fingers?” and you swear, despite them not speaking, they still share the same dumbass brain cell—
“What the fuck does it matte—” and your words are cut off by Suguru slipping in two fingers at once into your leaking cunt, fucking you meanly as he watched your mouth fall open, head tilted back as your hips jerked against him, desperate for more. His fingers curled as they fucked your hole open with rapid thrusts, the squelch of your cunt going straight to your head and straight to his already hard cock.
“It fucking matters because this is my pussy, isn’t it, baby? I fucked it first, I fucked it best, and I need to know what others did while I was gone, don’t I?” and a third joins the other two, pulling another moan from your lips,“but if you won’t tell me, I’ll just use both, fuck you with all five fingers and tongue if that’s what you want to do,”
“Sugu—” you’re already so fuckin’ close, your walls shuddering around his cock, “I’m—“ and he stops moving, smiling down at your open mouth twisting in a scowl, “fuck—“
“That’s what we’re trying to do, baby, but I’m not gonna let you cum that easy,” he coos, his curled lips leaning down to lap at your cunt, warm tongue dragging up your clit, before sucking lightly, making you squirm, “tell me you want me,”
“Your fucking ego—“ and he’s plunging three fingers into your messy entrance, making you gasp — god, you hated how good he felt — his fingers bullying your insides with practiced ease, “Sugu— please—“ as his tongue teases your clit, flicking it, before his teeth nibble at it. You’re squirming in earnest now, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers and tongue.
He laughs, pulling his mouth from your cunt, lips glossy with your pre-cum,“How quick you’re going from cussing me out to begging me to cum,” you don’t care anymore — you need to cum, “tell me what you want, Princess,”
“Need to cum, please, please, Sugu—ah—“ and he’s sinking one more finger in you, before his lips close around your clit and suck, hard. Your back arches as something in you snaps, as the squelching and slurping of his fingers and sucking send you over the edge. You flood his mouth and fingers with your cum, squirting all over him, as he eats you out and fucks you through your orgasm, groaning as you clench around his tongue and fingers. Your thighs shake and quiver in his grip, fingers holding you still in place, as he keeps overstimulating you, “too much, can’t—“ you cry out, shaking your head, but he’s not relenting until you feel something build in again — more and more, until his fingers find that one spot in you that has you silently screaming as you cum again, even harder than the first. You’re soaked — soaked the sheets through, chest rising and falling as the pleasure ebbs away, tears slipping down your cheeks, folds fluttering as he pulls his fingers out.
His breath warms your dripping cunt, lips glossy and eyes dark, groaning as he watches your cum slip from inside you, as he looks up at you with a dark, half lidded gaze, “So fucking good for me, even hotter when you cry,” he’s licking his lips clean of your cum, before he’s pressing the pads of his fingers into your open mouth, “clean them f’me, baby,” and your tongue swirls around him obediently without question, pretty eyes glassy with tears making his rock hard cock twitch in his pants, “good girl,”
And he’s pulling his fingers from your mouth, before leaning up and pulling off his black sweater, the click of his belt as he kicks off his pants, your eyes glued to his thick cock — he was thicker than Satoru, so pretty too — black pubes groomed, nearly pressed against his stomach.
“Always so desperate for my cock, aren’t you, Princess? I’ll let you clean your cum off of it after, but I have to have you first — got to reclaim what’s mine,” and he’s dragging his cock against your clit.
You gasp, twitching against him, but more than the pleasure, the guilt creeps in — flashes of Satoru from the night before with hands over your hips and thighs, and you had kept quiet about your life from the time you spent away. You had done your best to stay away from Suguru, even though you knew he hadn’t exactly done the same — asking Shoko questions, for pictures, for any scrap of you.
And you couldn’t lie — not about this.
“Suguru,” and he’s pausing, eyes meeting yours with a flash of concern, but the words tumble out with warning, just the way he had done with you, “I slept with Satoru,”
And he’s silent — emotions roll in and out on his face — confusion, hurt, anger, and acceptance — they all fall away as he’s only staring off to the side, unable to even look at you. Words fall away, stopped in your mouth after the bitter truth that’s left it and you wonder — is it over now? Seconds feel like hours — your fingers curl into the sheets, looking for something to hang onto, to ground you. Why did he have to start this? You were fine with the burnt ashes of the love he had scorched over, but now he started a fire, and you didn’t want to put it out. You didn’t want to go out.
You didn’t want him to go.
But he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes finally find yours for a moment, before he’s kissing you again and again and again, bruising kisses that slaughter any sense of logic and words from you — but his message is clear, he doesn’t wanna talk, especially as his hand reaches does to brush his aching tip against you, smearing his pre-cum over the length of you.
And he’s sinking into you, and somehow you’re still so tight around him, “Fuck,” he hisses, the first word that leaves his mouth, “did Satoru not fuck you right last night?” and your lips part as he thrusts harshly and smoothly, bottoming out with one single movement, “still as tight as when I took your virginity, aren’t you, baby?”
“Suguru,” you’re so full, he’s so thick, and these last few weeks without him almost had your cunt forgetting what he felt like filling you — his hands gripping your thighs to press them back against your stomach, as he pulls back only to slam back in, making you head loll back, “s’good, s’full,” it’s all you can feel, all you can think about, was him, just him.
“That’s right, I’m the only one who can fill you like this, the only one that makes you feel this good,” the sounds of his hips slapping against you send more heat flooding downward, as he grunts, watching himself piston in and out of you, “take me s’well, my good girl, mine,” he growls, “squeezing me so tight, never want me to leave this sweet cunt, do you?” your thighs shake as he presses them back, balls slapping against your ass, as he only sinks deeper and deeper, “could fuck you all night, don’t hide that face from me,” he’s forcing you to hold his gaze as he fucks you — your glassy eyes blown out with pleasure, your kiss ruined lips parted for him as you panted and moaned, forehead glossy with sweat, “wanna watch you cum around my cock, wanna see you scream my name, pretty baby,”
His hand slides behind your ass, grabbing a fistful and finding a better angle before slamming back in, and with his filthy words, its enough to have you cumming with his name on your lips, “Sugu—fuck, Suguru!” your voice goes to a pitch you didn’t know it could reach. Toes curling as your gummy walls swallow him in, your pretty mouth forms an ‘o’ and he grunts, imagining those lips around his cock, his thrusts growing sloppy as he fucked you through your orgasm. His dick was soaked, his precum mixing with your cum.
But he wasn’t done yet.
He’s slapping your clit, making you jolt, as he’s still pressed inside you, “Sloppy fucking girl, I know you have one more for me,” and you’re so fucked out, he’s guiding your legs around his lower back and hips, making you gasp, “gonna cum in this perfect princess cunt,”
“Sugu, can’t, It’s too muc—” you nearly sob, but he’s already fucking you, thrusting again and again. And it doesn’t take long for another orgasm to build, already far too sensitive from your last. It’s too much — the feeling of his hips slapping against yours, the feeling of his cock twitching inside your walls, the small moans that your tight cunt pull from his lips, and when his tip brushes against that perfect spot, as his thumb bears down on your clit — it’s too much. You see stars as you cum again, even harder, the loud squelch as he fucks you still pulls a deep groan from his lips.
“Gonna cum, baby, gonna make a mess of you, fill you up,” he’s grunting, and you’re only nodding and moaning “yes,” still fucked out from your orgasms, but it’s enough for him notch himself deep in you and cum, painting your womb white, as he spurts his seed inside you.
And his hips stutter, as he eases your legs down, still shaking and quivering from being fucked, and he rubs them, as you pant, his fingers then reaching to wipe your tears, as he eases himself out, groaning as he watched your mixed cums leak out of your cunt.
“Suguru,” you murmur, and he’s leaning over you, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, and your hand reaches for him, cupping his cheek, “I love you,” and you do — you always loved him, you always would — there was never anyone else. Only him. But the words can’t find their way out of your mouth, sleep calling for your attendance, as your fingers run through his hair, pulling his hair tie off, and carding their way through his long hair, “I love the long hair,” you hum, eyes fluttering and heavy with sleep.
“Do you?” His voice is gravelly, as he leans down, his lips finding your own for moment, before reaching for a bath towel you had slung over your metal bed frame, as he cleans you up, “how much?”
“Too much, Sugu,” he chuckles softly, as he finishes cleaning you and himself up, pressing soft kisses to your thighs, as he moves to get up and put the towel in the hamper — your hand catches him by the wrist, “Don’t go,”
And his gaze softens, as he shakes his head, “I’m just taking this to the hamper, I’ll come back to bed,” and your lips form an unfairly cute pout, but you relent, letting him walk away to the bathroom to dispose of the towel, and when he comes back, you’re already asleep, curled up.
He stands in the doorway, watching your chest rise and fall — and he’s walking over, pulling your comforter over your body, as he holds it open for himself, pausing, only to let it fall and settle on your side.
He couldn’t ask you to come with him. Couldn’t whisper those words in the night, because you couldn’t save him from the dark — not you, not Satoru, not a single person. Because he wasn’t cut out to live in this world with a smile on his face — and you always deserved to have one on your lips. And Satoru could do that for you. Not him.
It was never him. He was never good enough — his fingers trace over your cheek, pressing another kiss to your forehead — not for the jujutsu world, and not for you.
And he turns to leave, sparing a single glance at you — but he’d make a place for him. And maybe for you — make a world that’s safe for them to live in. Where he didn’t have to watch you join the other bodies piled up around him.
He’s pulling the door shut to your apartment softly, his key left on the table.
It was over.
~~~
“You’re late again, as usual,” Suguru smiles, slumping down against a wall, “Satoru,”
“The ones in Kyoto, they were under your command?”
“Yes, they all were,” he sways, holding his shoulder, he didn’t have much time left — he couldn’t feel anything, even as he held his wound, he felt nothing — no pain, no anger, no hatred, “no matter what anyone says, I hate those monkeys,” and his thumb brushes lightly over his shoulder, “but I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High School,”
“Did you not? Could’ve surprised me,” and his head turns slowly behind Satoru, and he sees you — sees you for the first time in a decade. Even at his visit to Jujutsu High, you weren’t around — away on a mission, just as he had intended.
Satoru only sighs, sparing you a glance, “I told you not to come here—”
“And I told you that I needed to see him,” you brush past Satoru, kneeling by Suguru — and he can’t take his eyes off of you — he had seen pictures, ones he had his twins take (not wanting those money grubbing monkeys to have even an image of you), and he saw you had done quite well for yourself after he had left. A teacher, just like Satoru — trying to foster a new generation of sorcerers — he was right, you were just like him, weren’t you? And he watches as your brow furrows, scanning over his injuries, gears grinding, but he has to halt them right then and there.
“There’s no saving me now, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, “but you know that already, don’t you?” he takes an unsteady breath, leaning back against the wall, his eyes falling over you again, “still so beautiful — how’s that possible?”
“Not beautiful to stick around for though, am I?” your words aren’t laced with bitterness so much as it’s a question, a question of why he had left you. Why did he never had come back.
“But beautiful enough to always stay faithful to,” his words are soft, “I don’t have many regrets, not any at all truly in retrospect, but I did lie to you about cheating—”
“I know,” your hand uses your sleeve to clean some of the blood on his face, scarlet on your palm, “I realized once I thought about it — and I’ve had plenty of time to think about you, Suguru,” your fingers trace his jawline softly, “because thoughts were all you left me with,”
“Not all I left you with,” his eyes slide back to Satoru and back to you, lips curled in a smile, “you two were always more better suited than I ever was to you, princess,”
“Suguru—” Satoru starts, but Suguru is shaking his head.
“It’s rude to interrupt a person’s last words, Satoru,” he clicks his tongue, and his lips curl as he finds your gaze again, your eyes glassy, “don’t look like that, sweetheart,”
“Suguru, why did you have to leave?” and he’s shaking his head slowly, resting it against the wall behind him.
“Because I didn’t belong there — I couldn’t live in this world with a real smile on my face,” and his hand reaches for you, but stops, falling back to his shoulder, and tears slip down your cheeks, “but with you, I came close,” he murmurs, and he knew it was time, “Satoru,” and that’s all he had to say to have Satoru start to pull you away.
“No, no, please—” you’re shaking your head, trying to push past Satoru, but you slump in his arms, “I love you, Suguru, I always will,”
And he gives a small chuckle, lips curled in that smile that always damned you — “At least curse me at the end,”
But you never could, as you step away, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear the distant splatter of blood. And you knew — you knew you would have stayed forever, stayed with him forever, if he only had told you not to go.
But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.
The two of you bury him, somewhere secluded, where no one would find him. The cold ground was hell to dig up, but the two of you managed somehow, each shovelful feeling like a funeral march with no end in sight. Neither of you could bear the thought of his body being poked and probed for its secrets, before being burned, turned to the ash and smoke, the very same he had left your lives in when he had torched it all to the ground. But even so, you couldn’t bear it — and as you look at the mound before you, you want to claw his body up — dig him up as if it would bring him back to life, pull whatever being or force out of the sky and make them give him back.
But you can’t — it’s over.
Satoru’s hand finds your shoulder, pulling you into a hug, burying your face in his chest, as he holds you tight to his chest. And he’s leading you away from Suguru, a single flower left over his grave, as the cold air freezes the tear stains left on your cheeks.
It’s over now. It was over now, right? Right?
And it was.
Until Shibuya.
a/n: this was supposed to be 3K, and ended up being over 10K. story of my life. this fic is thematically sponsored by 1989 (taylor's version), in particular, the vault tracks that helped me write this. you can literally spot lyric references almost throughout the entire thing
tag list: @ghostkonigkeegan141, @lightblueexorcist, @aemondseyesocket, @lemonpoppy-seed, @stran-dedforyou, @tiaraqueen123, @sun-daddy-yoriichi, @grooveandshit, @prettyabc, @kaskasi, @moranguitosz, @haunting-venus, @ninneko19, @psychicai, @d1rtv, @forest-fruits-jam, @katie91239, @dud3vil, @robynnikole151, @ivory-cove, @ohbi-the-way, @numbinyourchest, @dabisdolly, @kal0pssiaa, @glaceliy, @3atinguout, @iovesatoru, @imthebestbye-blog, @michelleeveline, @ichikanu, @ummcumfurtable, @collectionofdolls, @auraeum, @reesesnieces, @goldfishsmemory, @itshobiscussposts
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Exclusive Mc Privileges
Lucifer
Getting to wear his big coats and gloves when you’re cold or whenever you feel like it
Interrupting him working with no consequences no matter how silly the reason
Waking him up first thing in the morning like a kid on Christmas
Telling him how attractive he is when he’s mad
Helping him grooms his wings
Taking as many silly pictures together as they want as long as they don’t share them with anyone
Borrowing his pens
Helping yourself to his record collection
Staying out late
Comforting him in the middle of the night when he wakes up with a nightmare
Mammon
Being his passenger princess
Treating him like a princess whenever he feels inadequate
Borrowing his sunglasses at any time
Keeping him company when Lucifer hangs him upside down
Taking the blame for anything bad you did even if it means losing money
Driving his car
Using his money
Calling him you first and cutest demon
Dressing in matching outfits even if they are bright pink
Levi
Joining him to any and all conventions
Making cosplays with him
Borrowing anything from his manga collection
Touching or seeing his tail in a domestic setting since he’s insecure about
Polishing his scales for him before parties!
Feeding him while he’s gaming
Letting you play any game you want on game nights together
Doing his makeup whenever you feel like it
Caring for Henry
Satan
Organizing his books
Sharing his tea collection with him
Baking cookies together from his favorite book series
Going to exclusive events as his partner
Using his influence to get you whatever you want
Spending late night reading time with him
Going on morning walks with him
Scrubbing his hair in the shower <3
Borrowing his notes from class if you were sick or just forgot to take some that day
Asmo
Sharing his morning routine with him since he wants you to look fabulous too
Getting lots of gifts from him since everything he sees reminds him of you
Borrowing anything you want in his closet
Using his Devilgram
Matching jewelry!
Making jewelry together to have it matching which is better than buying it
Attending meet and greet events with him as moral and emotional support
Him cooking cute recipes he found online for you
Being his personal model for new looks
Beel
Cooking for and with him
Stopping him from eating the ingredients while cooking
Picking out his change of clothes after the gym
Going on dates to new restaurants
Stealing his shirts to fashion into outfits or lounging around in
Piggy back rides!
Flexing his arms for you so you can touch them
Admiring his wings
Teaching you everything he knows about various Devildom dishes
Belphie
Sleepy kisses :)
Hiding in the attic to get away for a while and nap
Pillow shopping together
Going camping in the middle of nowhere to admire the stars and each others company
Sneaking off together at parties
Karaoke together since he knows how much you love his voice
Attempting to wake each other up but falling back asleep together each time
Surprising you at RAD with random gifts of flowers
Making cupcakes together and ending in a flour war
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written in the stars.
pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: until i found you by stephen sanchez feat. em beihold.
author's note: boyfriend theo is the best theo. if you're wondering, then yes writing this hurt me as much as it hurts reading it but like in the best way possible.
Theodore Nott has always had an affinity for the stars.
When he was younger, Theo's mother used to take him to the rooftop of Nott Manor and point out the constellations to him. The stars told stories, his mum had said. Theo listened with rapt attention as she recounted the tales of Aquila, Heracles, and Orion as they glittered against the backdrop of the English countryside.
The two of them would make an entire evening out of it. Laying on his back atop a nest of blankets and pillows, little Theo watched as the stars climbed higher and higher, filling the horizon with hope and light. Stargazing had been their special secret. The one thing that wasn’t tainted by his abusive father. Theo guarded the memory of those nights in his heart like a priceless treasure.
After his mother’s passing, Theo continued their tradition of stargazing. Even if she was no longer alive, all he had to do was look up at the sky to feel her with him. For that reason, the stars were special to him and he’d never shared its meaning with anyone.
Until tonight.
“Watch your step, cara mia.” Theo said as he guided you by the small of your back.
The dark cloth covering your eyes prohibited you from seeing, but you trusted your boyfriend to keep you from falling. Though you weren’t a fan of surprises, Theo was impossible to resist. All he had to do was flash those pretty watercolor eyes at you and you were an absolute goner.
For you, Theo had always been the exception.
He guided you up a staircase, keeping a firm grip on your waist as the two of you ascended. Wherever you were going, it was pretty high up. You smiled as Theo took hold of your waist, knowing that you weren't the biggest fan of heights. Sometimes it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself. When you reached the top, Theo unfastened his tie from behind your head.
“You can open your eyes now, sweetheart.”
You blinked, letting your eyes adjust to the dark. The wind whistled through the stone arches of the Astronomy Tower, framing the starkissed night with its marble pillars. The soft glow of the moon illuminated the nest of blankets and pillows arranged in the middle of the wooden floor.
“Did you do all of this for me, babe?”
Theo smiled. “I thought you might like to go stargazing with me,” he said, his voice soft. “Do you like it, my love?”
“I love it, Teddy.” You beamed, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his nose. “But not nearly as much as I love you.”
Theo grinned before pulling you in for a proper kiss. His lips were soft against yours and he tasted like peppermint. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as your knees buckled slightly. Theo never failed to make you feel like a lovestruck school girl. It never stopped feeling like this despite how many times you kissed this boy.
As if reading your thoughts, Theo smiled against your lips. “Come on, Y/N. I want to show you my favorite constellations.”
The two of you laid down beneath the stars, making yourself comfortable amidst the blankets and pillows. Wordlessly, Theo pulled you into his arms and you nestled into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of sea salt spray and sun kissed skin.
“Tell me the story of the stars, Teddy.”
He smiled, brushing your hair back. “That one right there is Ursa Major. Otherwise known as the Big Dipper, but if you look at the entire constellation, it actually forms a bear.”
“I remember learning about that when I was little,” you said, gazing up at the sky. “Didn’t it have something to do with Zeus?”
Theo nodded. “In Greek mythology, the Olympian God Zeus fell in love with Callisto and got her pregnant. After she gave birth to the child, Hera was so mad she turned Callisto into a bear.”
“That hardly seems fair,” you responded with a frown.
“Zeus was a bit of a wanker,” Theo said in agreement. “Hera was even worse. She cursed Callisto to wander the forest for years in bear form until she was hunted by her own son Arcas. Just as he raised his spear to strike her down, Zeus stepped in and sent them up to the heavens. Callisto as Ursa Major and Arcas as Bootes.”
“The Greek gods were truly a piece of work,” you replied. “But at least we got those constellations out of them."
You squinted, pointing at the cluster of stars hovering in the east. “What’s that one?”
“That’s the constellation of Leo,” explained Theo. “Named after the Nemean lion that Heracles defeated during the first of his twelve labours.”
“Didn’t he make a cloak out of the lion’s pelt?”
“Smart girl,” Theo said proudly. “The cloak made Heracles invincible and more fearsome than he already was. The Nemean lion’s heart is made up of the star Regulus, which is associated with the arrival of spring.”
“The Little King. I read that it burns hotter than the sun.”
Theo couldn’t help but smile. Before he met you, he never thought he’d find someone to share such a special and intimate thing with. He was worried that no one else would understand his love for the stars, but as he watched you peer curiously up at the sky, your nose scrunched in careful concentration, Theo felt all of his doubts fade away.
“Regulus is unique because it can be seen in both the Northern and Southern hemispheres.”
The blue star glittered brightly above your heads, as if it was showing off for the occasion. “It’s beautiful,” you breathed.
Theo stared at you, at the childlike wonder shimmering in your eyes, and he felt like the breath had been knocked out of his lungs. The gravity of what he felt for you hit him all at once.
“Yeah,” Theo said softly, still looking at you. “Beautiful.”
You grinned, intertwining your fingers and kissing his knuckles. “How do you know so much about the stars, Teddy?”
“My mum taught me.” Theo answered, drawing circles on your hip. “When I was little, she used to take me to the rooftop of the manor and tell me the story behind each star. She was fascinated by them. Before she met my father, she wanted to teach astronomy at the Stati Magia.”
“The Italian School of Witchcraft?”
Theo nodded. “My mother attended the Stati Magia, just like her mother and her mother before her. A tradition that I unintentionally broke, as nonna Lucia loves to remind me. Sometimes I think the old bat wishes that I was born a strega instead.”
You giggled. “You would’ve been a very pretty witch.” Theo chuckled as you propped your head up in one hand. “Did your mum end up becoming a professor?”
“No,” Theo said sadly. “After I was born, my father said that her place was at the manor. He refused to move to Florence, even though he knew it was my mother’s dream.”
You stroked his hair, nodding emphatically. Theo rarely talked about his mother. You knew that her passing was a painful subject for him, so you never pushed him to talk about it unless he wanted to.
“That’s awful. I’m so sorry, my love,” you said. “But at least she was able to pass down her love of the stars to you. In a way, she lived her dream by teaching you.”
A soft smile tugged at your boyfriend’s lips. “I suppose she did.”
You laid back down, but this time you cradled Theo against you. He rested his head against your chest, listening to the calming sound of your heartbeat. Talking about his mother will always be hard, but you helped ease the pain.
“What about those stars?” You asked, pointing to the north. “What did your mother tell you about them?”
“Perseus and Andromeda,” Theo answered. “Those are actually her favorites.”
“The chained maiden.”
Theo stirred, inclining his gaze to the horizon. “Andromeda was the Princess of Aethiopia, the daughter of King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia. She was said to be very beautiful. Her mother bragged that Andromeda was fairer than the Nereids, which angered Poseidon. As punishment, the Sea God sent the creature Cetus to ravage that coast of their kingdom.”
You nodded, recalling the story. “King Cepheus chained her to a rock and offered her as a sacrifice to appease the sea monster.”
“Luckily for Andromeda, the hero Perseus found her before Cetus could attack again. Perseus fell in love with Andromeda and defeated the monster so he could free the princess. They ended up marrying and became king and queen of Mycenae. When they died, the goddess Athena placed them side by side in the heavens so that they would never be parted, not even by death.”
“A love written in the stars,” you said with awe and wonder. “I can see why it’s your mother’s favorite.”
“When I was a boy, she told me that she hoped I’d experience a love like theirs, minus the sea monster of course.” You chuckled. Theo knit his brows together like he did when he was deep in thought. When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. “It’s sad to think that she never found her Perseus.”
You brushed his hair back, running your fingers through his curls gently. “She might not have found her Perseus, but she did have her Theo.”
Theo turned over and looked at you. The intensity in his gaze made you shiver. He was so ingrained in your heart that it felt inaccurate to continue calling it yours.
“After she died, I never thought I’d share her stories with anyone again, but I’m glad I shared them with you.”
“Thank you for trusting me, Theo.” You said as you placed a kiss on his temple. “It means the world to me that you not only shared your mother’s stories, but her memory as well. I would’ve loved to meet her.”
The tender smile on Theo’s face was heartbreaking. Then softly, he whispered. “She would’ve loved you, Y/N.”
Your heart cracked open, his words spilling like sunlight over every crevice, warming you from the inside out.
Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, but you forced yourself to give Theo a watery smile. “Because I’m a nerd who memorized obscure mythological facts?”
Your boyfriend smiled. “No,” he said gently, caressing your cheek. “Because you made her wish come true. You are my love written in the stars, cara mia.”
The moonlight kissed Theo’s tan skin, the silver beams caressing his face like a lover as if the moon and the stars craved to commit his beauty to memory as badly as you did. Gods, he was breathtaking.
This was the Teddy you knew and loved. Your Teddy.
Those watercolor eyes shimmered with emotion. “Sometimes I think the gods made you just for me, like our souls are linked in a way that neither logic nor magic can explain. Whatever it is, I think I’ve loved you since before the heavens and the earth existed and I’m fairly certain that I’d still love you even after the last star falls out of the sky.”
“You’re the love of my life, Theodore Nott.” Tears streamed down your cheeks as this boy—this beautiful boy ensnared your mind, body, and soul. “I’d find you in any universe and in any galaxy. Maybe someday we’ll be immortalized in the stars too.”
Theo held your face in his hands. His expression was open and vulnerable, like he wasn’t afraid to lay himself bare before you. As if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“We’re two halves of a whole,” Theo said. “I loved you yesterday. I love you today and I’ll love you tomorrow. You’re it for me, Y/N. You and no one else.”
“You and no one else, Teddy.”
Under the constellations of the star crossed lovers, Theo kissed you so gently that it made your heart ache. As Andromeda and Perseus kept watch over the horizon, Theodore Nott knew one thing for certain.
Someday the stars would tell your story too.
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The Cute and Caring Noona from Apartment 424
CLC/Kep1er Choi Yujin & Male Reader
Categories/warnings: smut, older girl, undisclosed age gap (nothing creepy tho), soft dom Yujin, titsucking, nursing handjob, cowgirl, creampie, breeding, overstimulation a lil bit
Word count: 3.5k
a/n: discordant waltz chapter alr planned out dw i just wanted to switch things up a lil, this was a blast to write :D
“Hey, so good to see you! Come in!”
You take off your shoes and Yujin pulls you in for a hug. The aroma of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies fills your nostrils and sends your stomach growling.
“Hi, Noona. It's great to see you again.” You back away from the hug, but Yujin keeps you within arm's length with her dainty hands on your shoulders. You admire her simple yet adorable outfit, which only compliments her bright personality.
“Take a seat, cookies are still cooling down but dinner is ready!”
She plops you down at the dining table and sets your plate and silverware. While she buzzes from cupboard to table and back, you draw your eyes from one tiny dish to the next. Kimchi, lettuce leaves, cheese cubes, the works. At the center of the table is a small grill, with a pan sitting on top and evidently expensive cuts of beef like what they go crazy for in variety shows sizzling enticingly.
You keep from drooling at the last second at the feast before you, and you manage to choke out, “Wow, are we expecting more people, Noona? This looks delicious.”
“No, just the two of us,” Yujin says cheerfully as she places your chopsticks at the right side of your plate. “Too much?”
“Way too much! You really pamper me whenever I come by. Thanks, Yujin-noona.”
She chuckles cutely while covering her mouth with a finger. “You visit too rarely for a neighbor. Come by more often and I can tone down the food, okay?”
She takes her seat next to you and squeezes your hand. Skillfully and quickly, she picks up a piece of beef from the pan, a leaf of lettuce, just the right amount of kimchi, a leaf of perilla, and finally a cube of cheese. She presents you with the expertly made wrap and brings it to your mouth, saying “Ahhh.”
~~~
She sets the plate of cookies on the coffee table in front of you as you offer her the other half of the blanket. She joins you on the couch and shuffles right up to you, placing her head on your shoulder and bringing your arm around her.
The movie starts playing and the necessary studio intro clips crescendo onto the screen. “This is one of my favorites. You'll love it too.” She snuggles more comfortably into your side and sighs a breath of relaxation. Squeeze her shoulder, tell her wordlessly that you're excited to love this movie as well.
~~~
You come to, and groggily you look around. It's of little help, as the TV shut itself off sometime ago and the lights are all out. You feel a shifting weight beside you and your face suddenly fills with a scratchy texture and the sweetest scent you've probably ever smelled in your life, no doubt a faceful of your neighbor’s hair.
“Yujin-noona, wake up. We fell asleep and the movie's over.”
You try to shake her awake gently, and it works. Yujin sits up slowly and tries checking the time on her phone. After the initial short-lived blindness, she sets it down and rubs her eyes.
“It's late. Sleep over. No buts.” Knowing you had no choice, you submit and help her help you walk and stumble yourselves up the stairs and to her bedroom.
She plugs a star-shaped night light into a low wall socket and the pair of you fall into the bed. You cuddle into her side this time and she graciously wraps you in her arms. The smell of her hair and her bedsheets fill your nostrils again with a calming fragrance.
However, in an act of dastardly betrayal, your brain for whatever reason thinks your sweet beloved neighbor Yujin-noona is… something more. As you take in more and more of her scent, and gaze up from her side to see the way her eyes are shut lighty and her lips are slightly parted as light snores slip through, your heart beats a different rhythm as if just now realizing and admiring the beauty that is Choi Yujin.
“This can’t possibly be,” you think to yourself, “she’s my neighbor and very close friend. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this.” You continue to fight down your subconscious feelings from bubbling up into your conscious mind, but the fullness of your tummy and the comfiness of the way you’re in bed with her prove it a challenge.
“Something wrong? What are you thinking about?” You’re taken aback by Yujin’s sudden words. “Are you okay? Tell Yujin-noona what you need.” She rubs her eyes again and meets your gaze. In possibly the worst stroke of luck you could ever have had in this life, as she negotiates her hand back under the covers, she comes into light contact with you in the middle of you pitching a tent in your pants.
“... Oh.” is all Yujin could get out before you turn beet-red and stutter your apologies.
“Shit, Noona, I’m so sorry! I- I should go- I’m sorry.” Your mind fills with shame at how you’ve ruined such a nice and pure friendship with your lovely neighbor. You try to stumble out from under the blanket, pushing Yujin away, but once again she places her dainty hand on your shoulder.
“Stop that right now. Come here.” Her command is mild but assertive. She lifts up the blanket to welcome you back, patting the space beside her in her bed. You sheepishly rejoin her under the fluffy covers, but before you settle, she makes another set of commands.
“This is my house, so for me to be a good host, you will tell me anything and everything you need. That includes this,” she whispers breathily, palming the growing bulge in your pants, “Most. Of. All.”
You can do nothing but whimper at her unrelenting touch. It doesn’t help that she’s already fiddling with the waistband of your underwear and wrestling it out of her way. What’s worse, your position in bed with her makes it impossible for you to look anywhere but to meet her eyes, or maybe…
“Use your words, baby boy, tell Noona exactly what you need.” An evil grin forms across her mouth, painting her features with a sinister shade of lust.
“Noona… Could you please…” The words barely struggle out of your mouth, and even then you’re not saying anything of value. Yujin only chuckles more, covering her mouth with one finger, before prodding you incrementally yet ever closer to the edge.
“I can’t read minds, baby boy. You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“Noona, your… your top, please. Take it off.” Wide-eyed, you watch as she grabs the piece of clothing by the hem and starts pulling up. Her belly button comes into your view as she goes on tantalizingly slowly revealing more of her creamy skin to your hungry eyes.
The top then clears past her ribs, and she slows down ever so slightly, keeping you on the edge. You choose to relieve some of the pressure in your crotch yourself by stroking your dick to the unbelievably lewd sight, but Yujin has other plans.
“No, bad boy. Only Noona gets to play with that tonight.” In saying so, she lets go of her top, covering everything she showed you so far, to swat your hands away from masturbating. A deep sense of regret fills you, knowing that only you could be blamed for delaying your pleasure. However, Yujin seems satisfied that you learned your lesson and resumes her striptease.
She reaches a critical point in her teasing, bunching up all of the fabric so far right under her boobs. Her nipples poke through the thin fabric, and you fight the urge to just dive into her tits and ravage them to your heart’s desire. She relishes in the burning gaze you’re subjecting her to, as if getting off to being ogled by her neighbor and best friend. She grows a few shades redder in the face to match yours, but ultimately she pulls her top up past her breasts, freeing them and letting them bounce. With the top now only covering her neck and shoulders, she opts to tease you more:
“Like what you see?” she asks sultrily while winking at you. She cups each of her tits with her hands, presenting them to you, and tweaking her nipples to get them hard for you. Yujin takes her lower lip between her teeth, obviously growing more and more aroused at the thought of letting you take her right then and there.
You try to find some spit in your mouth to swallow, but it’s dry as a desert and you’re left breathless instead. You swear that you could just die right there and be happy with the life you’ve lived so far, and with how your noona is treating you, you just might actually pass.
“Baby boy, I’ll say again: Tell Noona exactly what you need.” Her top finally leaves her body and she shows herself off to you. Her fingers snake through her hair and you’re blessed with an unobstructed view of the most luscious tits you’ve ever seen.
“I want…” You try forcing words out of your mouth again, but Yujin makes the job (and you) so extremely hard. “I want to suck your tits.”
“Not with that attitude, mister. I am your Noona and you will speak to me with respect.” She’s got you now, her deadly scold wringing your neck and cutting off what little airflow your lungs had. You’re left with no choice; submit to her will.
“Yujin-noona, please let me suck your tits, please…” Your tongue hangs out of your mouth, anticipating the imminent pleasure of her boobs on your face. It means the world to you when she places a hand behind your head and pulls you closer.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, baby boy? Say ahhh…” You follow her command and she gently pushes her left breast into your mouth. Her skin tastes delicious, and her nipple is just the right stiffness to lick and nibble and worship.
She guides you to a more comfortable position, and you find yourself laying down while Yujin is on her side, still with her boob in your mouth, while she pulls your arm towards her right boob to fondle and grope as you please.
“Is my precious baby boy comfy?” she asks much too cutely for what she’s making you do to her. “Yesh noona, ahm conhfy…” you mutter out with your tongue still wrapped around her nipple.
“Good boy…” she moans breathily. While you’re taking your fill of her perfect body, she makes her desires known: she wants you too.
Yujin finds your cock again and strokes it through your pants. “Baby boy, do me a favor, would you?” Her request makes itself apparent with the way she’s reaching under your waistband, and you could do nothing but oblige and strip yourself as quickly as possible of both pants and underwear.
“My perfect baby boy…” Her tone is laced with venom as your musk reaches her nostrils. She places a fingertip on the slit of your cock and spreads your precum all over the head. “What I’d give to do to your cock what you’re doing to my tits right now…”
Her pace speeds up, and while you have half a mind to ask her to slow down, you know you have no right to ask her of that. Instead, you go for the next best thing.
“Yujin-noona,” you surrender, her breast falling out of your mouth and onto your cheek, “could you please let me fuck your pussy?”
She chuckles again, but more evilly this time. “Of course, my sweet baby boy, but you’re gonna have to follow my lead.”
“Anything for you, Noona.”
She places you properly down onto the bed, making sure you’re comfy, and plants a kiss on your cheek. She forces you to watch, with a hand on your cheek guiding your face, as she peels off her shorts to show you more of her skin: her smooth legs, creamy thighs, and plump ass you now have the pleasure to grope as much as she’s willing to let you. She climbs on top of and straddles you, the large wet spot on her pink-and-white striped panties nearly leaking her juices onto her thighs, before she takes your hard and throbbing cock into her hands again.
“Will you be my good baby boy, sweetheart?” She spits into her hand and rubs it all over your dick, causing you to groan in pleasure.
“Yes…” “Yes, what, hmm?”
“... Yes, noona, I’ll be your good baby boy…”
“Perfect, just what I wanted to hear.” She pulls her panties to the side and rubs the head of your cock against her soaked folds. The heat radiating from her sex spurs you on even more, the delayed gratification of slipping into her causing your breaths to heave. Yujin takes on sharp inhales and slow exhales as well each time she teases her clit with your head.
Deciding to finish teasing you, Yujin finally gives you what you’re craving. She sinks down slowly onto your cock, making sure to feel every single vein inside her. Her descent is slow and deliberate and you watch as more and more of your length slips past her pussy lips and into her tight cunt.
“Ffffuck, baby boy, you’re going to split me in half with a cock like this…”
It starts to overwhelm you: the warmth from her slick, the tightness of her cunt, the clenching of her walls against your cock as if desperate for a climax as early as this. You surely want your noona like this for much longer than just a few seconds more, but you’re in absolutely no control at all.
“Baby boy, tell me if you’re close, okay?” You nod furiously, and Yujin drops herself violently onto your crotch, pushing every last inch of your cock into her cunt. “Ah, fuck! Yes, baby boy, fuck me with this thick cock of yours!”
Grab her tiny waist, feel her smooth skin, pull her up ever so slightly. Then, pull her back down onto your dick, feeling her walls clench around you so needily again. The pair of you find a rhythm, and not long after, Yujin herself bounces up and down on your shaft like a pogo stick.
“Shit, baby boy, you feel so fucking good!” She somehow finds little adjustments that push you deeper and deeper into her cunt, and in turn you hit her good spots more and more. It gets progressively more difficult to keep from creampie-ing her right then and there, but you fight for more time to receive her love.
With every thrust into her core, Yujin falters ever so slightly. You notice between her lewd moans and grunts that she’s arching forward, slowly but surely bringing her closer and closer to you. Eventually she gives up trying to stay upright, and she falls forward only to catch herself with her elbows planting deep into the mattress on either side of your head.
“Tempting, no? Hah, hah, come on, my sweet, good baby boy, give ‘em a little suck.” Barely registering the lewd words coming out of her mouth, you take her right nipple in between your teeth. Tug respectfully, but tug hard. The sensation of your teeth on her sensitive nub drives her insane, bringing her to the heights of her pleasure, and somehow even higher still. She lets you know just how blissful she is with groans and pleas you can’t help but indulge.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me! My god, yes, please, harder,” and many more nonsense filler words spill from her mouth while you fill her cunt again and again and again. The more she rides you, the more her sweet and tight cunt leaks her juices all over her bed, causing the wet spot to make itself known to you once it grew big enough under her. At the same time, you struggle harder and harder to get your own body under control, fighting back your orgasm for just a bit more time with her like this, just a bit more.
“N- Noona, it feels so good, you feel so fucking good on my cock, Yujin-noona…” You’re completely at her mercy, and her mercy is heaven. With every bounce she makes on your cock you grow harder and hornier for her, only to be welcomed into what might be the wettest, neediest, fullest pussy in the world. You can’t get enough of her: not your cock pistoning into her cunt and poking at the entrance to her womb, not your mouth sucking and biting desperately at the flesh of her perky tits, not your hands roaming all over her body and groping every part of her you can.
“Baby boy, you’re making Noona feel so fucking good too,” she confesses hazily, and only then you notice that her eyes are falling half–shut and her straining to keep riding you. Her thighs are jiggling with her trembling core, and you figure out that she’s been spraying her girlcum all over your crotch for who knows how long now.
Her pussy only serves your cock so much better now, wetter and slicker and definitely tighter with how her pussy refuses to let you go. The feeling of her hips convulsing against you almost nearly pushes you over the edge yourself, you’re trying so hard to hold off, but she’s so cute and caring, and she’s so fucking hot…
“Noona, I- I’m so fucking close, Noona!” But Yujin is long gone, lost in her continuous orgasm, doomed to keep leaking from her cunt and mouth and riding you without her better judgment to stop. Wherever Yujin is in the confines of her mind must be drowning in pleasure to keep fucking herself on you like this.
You’re gone too, as even though you know it wouldn’t be that hard to pull her tight body off you yourself, you’re completely in love with the idea of cumming just like this. Your cock buried deep inside your friendly neighbor Choi Yujin, who fed you, hung out with you, treated you like a real brother, only to take advantage of her dazed state of mind to paint her velvet walls white with your cum, filling her to the brim with your baby-making seed, subjecting her to the motherhood of your child…
“Baby boy, do it, shoot all of it inside, sweetheart. Fill Noona up. It’s okay.” On primal instinct, you let out a low growl and grip her ass roughly. Only now do you notice how much she was moaning loudly right into your ear, tinnitus ringing a high-pitched and dizzying tone that wouldn’t stop. Your arms and legs burn with how hard and fast you’re manhandling Yujin’s body, fucking her like a wild animal that knew nothing but sex. She hasn’t stopped orgasming, you feel her slick spread more over your crotch. Her elbows finally give out and she collapses onto you, fully vulnerable to you.
“I’m Noona’s good baby boy” is your last thought before your orgasm takes over your mind. Thrust deeper than ever into her core, shoot your seed straight into her womb. Her strained voice makes one final effort to scream her earth-shattering ecstasy as each spurt of your spunk shoves itself into her, eventually forcing her cunt to leak both her and your cum out in globs. You even lose yourself in the throes of pleasure and forget that you might be hurting her; all you need to know is that her body is yours to use and breed as you like. Keep pistoning into her all the while your cock sprays your love deep into her fertile body, one spurt, two, three, five, eight, eleven, before you lose count and just focus on feeling good with your cute and caring noona.
Once the world stops spinning and calms down, you find yourself dizzy and gasping for air through a dry-as-a-desert mouth. With fatigue plaguing every part of your body, you can’t even find the strength to get into a less uncomfortable position. Your eyes try to drift lazily across the ceiling, getting your bearings, but Yujin has one last command for you.
“My sweet baby boy, you did so well for Noona. Get your rest, baby.” She places her hand on your eyes, pushing them shut. She keeps her hand there, making sure you don’t open your eyes again while you feel her lips planting kisses on your face, trailing a line from your cheek to your neck. Finally, she licks and then nibbles your lower lip lightly, rewarding you for doing such a good job.
“B-but what about the mess? And you might get preg–” “Shush now, let Noona worry about that, okay? Sweet dreams, baby boy.”
You stand no chance against her; your fatigue takes over your body and the calmness of the air lulls you into a sense of serenity. As the final nail in the coffin, Yujin refuses to get off of you despite your best attempts at pulling out and pushing her off. Without even realizing it, you fall deep asleep amidst her comforting weight, tender kisses, and soft coos.
~~~
a/n: i went into this fic blind actually. only when I was about half done did I think to check if yujin was actually good at cooking at all but turns out shes not :/
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