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ozzgin · 6 months

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Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (II)

Reader is cozying up to her unusual home, and her new friend decides to surprise her with a romantic gift. Or at least what he considers to be romantic: a small reminder that no one else can mess with her. Continuation to the yakuza landlord idea!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Content: Female reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, violence, death, mild gore

Tags: @depressed-but-make-it-cute

You search for your keys and open the postal box, retrieving a thick envelope. You've been living at the new apartment for several weeks now and truth be told, you could get used to this lifestyle. Your commute to work is much shorter, the path is never devoid of people, and there are multiple bakeries on the way back with some of the best pastries you've tasted in your life.

You turn around and look for Daitou, somewhat distracted and dreamy. It really feels like a Hallmark movie. A peaceful, idyllic life. Ah, there he is! The scarred man is standing guard before one of the stores. The curtains have been pulled, blocking any glimpse of the inside. You walk towards him with a certain joyful bounce in your step. As you approach him, you can hear muffled screams coming from the building. He notices you and flashes you a smile.

"Don't come too close, I hear the owner's been avoiding his loan payment and getting all friendly with the neighboring Family. We're questioning him in the back."

"Don't you usually do the interrogations?"

"Only if we don't need them afterwards. I'm not too good at keeping them alive, ya know?" He scratches the back of his head and laughs awkwardly. "Do you need anything?"

You open your mouth to speak, but it's a little difficult to formulate a full sentence with the interrupted moans and cries occasionally making their way out. The door is ajar and you avoid glancing in its direction, fixating on the man before you.

"I...uh... just wanted to know if this letter is intended for me or the landlord. It looks like an official document."

You show Daitou the envelope and just as he is about to grab it, he notices the blood stains seeped into his glove. He quickly removes it, wipes his hand on his shirt, and nonchalantly plucks the paper from your fingers.

"That's for Boss. I'll pass it on, so don't worry."

You nod and bow slightly before hurrying back home. Well, doesn't make it less of a movie, you suppose. Just more of a thriller. Or something like that. You drop your bag, slip off your shoes and throw yourself onto the futon with a loud thud. The warmth of the sheets envelops you and the wails of the shop owner become but a distant dream.

Without the worry of stalkers, or finding a roof above your head, you can finally rest.

Tonight is rather dark, with the moon shrouded in heavy clouds. Daitou yawns silently as he observes the masked man testing out passcodes for the entrance. Every now and then he lets out a whispered curse, crossing out another number combination on his little crumpled note. It doesn't take a genius to figure out this is the famed stalker you'd complained about earlier. No one else currently lives in the building.

Eventually, the keypad lights up and the door unlocks. The mysterious man lifts a fist victoriously and reaches for the handle.

"Oop! Not so fast!" Daitou drops his heavy, sinewy arm over the man's shoulders, pulling him in a friendly embrace. Like two old pals meeting at an intersection. "Let's take a walk together, what do you say? (Y/N) sleeps until noon on weekends, no need to hurry."

With a grunt, the stalker tries to shove himself out of the tightening hold, but the yakuza doesn't budge. He towers over his new friend with an unfaltering, unbothered grin.

"Now listen, I don't blame you one bit, ya know? I ain't blind, at least not in this eye", he continues as he points to the real counterpart of his glass prosthetic, "so I'm damn well aware of a pretty girl when I see one. And (Y/N)? That's some good taste alright."

He gives the man an affectionate pat over the chest, pulling him away from the building into one of the side streets.

"If you want, we can have a drink before the deed, I know a good place five minutes from here. We can share some stories of our favorite girl, eh?" Daitou looks at his watch, feigning mild concern. "But I'm afraid you're not leaving this neighborhood either way. In one piece, that is."

His arm goes limp and the masked man is released from the iron hold, tripping over from the sudden lack of support. He crawls against a wall and fumbles for something, swiftly pulling out what seems to be a pocket knife. His breathing is erratic and he points the tip of the blade towards the yakuza, now with his features darkened by a frown. He sounds like an entirely different person and the instant switch to a ragged voice startles the stranger.

"See, the trouble is, I promised miss (Y/N) I wouldn't allow a fucking dog like you to be in her presence ever again. Sadly for you, I'm a man of my word." Despite the threatening tone, his posture is relaxed and he stands before the stalker with his hands bare.

"If I were you, I'd use that little butter knife on my own throat. I don't go easy on horny cockroaches. Especially the ones that mess with my woman." His final words spill out in a bitter growl.

A small animal in the trashing jaws of a predator. Blood splatters and pools in the asphalt cracks and drained hands claw at the walls, hoping for an escape. As despair sinks in, the alleyway becomes quiet again, save for the merry whistle of the remaining party. Daitou carefully ties the trash bags with the focus of a child wanting to impress the parents with a chore well done. Halfway through he stops and gasps, surprised.

"Oh man, did I really just say 'my woman'? How embarrassing." He blushes and shyly pushes the wrapped slabs away. "I haven't even asked her out yet, ya know? Better not rat me out, Mr. Stalker." He snickers at his monologue and continues the cleanup.

"Can you really not refrain yourself from smoking in here?" You try to fan away the puff of smoke, scowling at the young blonde man sitting across the table.

"Why do you even care so much?" Kazuya groans and stuffs the remains of the cigarette in the ashtray.

"I don't want my carrot cake tasting like tobacco. You're lucky the old man is afraid of you, otherwise you would've gotten your ass banned a long time ago."

"You know, I've been thinking about it lately - haven't you gotten quite the attitude? You have a big mouth for someone surrounded by dangerous gangsters. I could blow your brains out right now."

He lowers himself in his seat and briefly lifts his shirt, flashing a carelessly tucked in gun. He stares at you for a few seconds, as if expecting a reaction, then lets out a chuckle upon seeing your indifferent expression.

"Shameless. You could at least try to pretend you don't know I have a soft spot for you."

"Just a wild guess, but your Boss probably wouldn't appreciate you shooting civilians in the middle of a café. That's all." You respond with a shrug.

Your banter is interrupted by Daitou's heavy footsteps nearing in your direction. Kazuya waves, signaling your location, and kicks a chair out, inviting his friend to join.

"Where the hell were you last night? I thought you'd come with us for drinks after that long ass questioning."

"Sorry, I had to take care of something." Daitou returns an apologetic smile and tilts his head to gaze at you. "Which reminds me, I brought you this."

Your eyes widen in surprise and a faint red tints your cheeks. Was there some special occasion you didn't know about? He places a small box in your hands and leans back in his chair with a cheerful smirk on his face. Kazuya watches the interaction, equally curious as you.

You open the mysterious gift, giddy with anticipation. The nauseating smell abruptly invades your nostrils and you can feel the contents of your stomach bubble up and pile at the back of your throat. You gag involuntarily and slap your hands over your mouth, as the box tumbles down. A single severed human finger and some teeth glistening with moisture roll out.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Kazuya jumps from his seat, toppling over the table in the process, and lunges at Daitou's throat. The latter can only stare in shock, baffled at a reaction he didn't foresee. There's genuine confusion shaping his features.

"But-...I thought..."

"What the hell did you think, that you'd show up with fucking human remains over some tea and cake?! Jesus, Daitou, she ain't our Lieutenant!"

"But I did- I did tell (Y/N) I'd..." he tries to find you with a pleading, worried look.

Once the risk of vomiting on the floor has diminished, you shove yourself between the men and gently try to remove Kazuya's arm, still clawed around the other man's throat.

"Let him go, Kazuya. He didn't mean to scare me." You glance at Daitou reassuringly. "Does that mean the stalker guy is now a solved matter?"

The yakuza nods energetically, his eyes now sparkling with pride. He knew you'd understand. Once the tension is lifted, you quickly sweep the gory tokens back into their box and explain the situation to Kazuya. He collapses back in his seat with a frustrated sigh, facepalming himself.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I should've told you he's being serious when he says shit like this." He glares at his friend. "She didn't actually expect you to go ahead and do it, dumbass. Couldn't you just mention it or something? 'Hey, I took care of that pervert following you around'! You think she would've demanded proof?"

Daitou is nervously fidgeting with his glass eye, as if searching for the proper words.

"But you always say women will like you more if you surprise them with gifts." He concludes with a pout.

There's a prolonged moment of silence and you burst our laughing, as the blonde simultaneously lets out an exasperated whine. You cannot get over the bizarre sight in front of you: someone as massive and imposing as Daitou, cornered like a punished school boy.

"See, this is what I've been telling Boss. You're a lost cause." Kazuya rests his elbows on his knees, closing the distance between him and Daitou and continuing with a lecturing tone. "If you got a crush on someone, you bring them flowers or something! What are you, a crackhead? Do I have to teach you basic manners?"

"More importantly, uh...what should I do with these? I guess jewelry made of teeth is a thing, but the finger? Won't it go bad?" you cautiously dangle the package next to your ears, listening to the rustle of its contents.

Kazuya rips the box from you.

"I'm starting to suspect you don't have all the tiles on your roof either. I'll get rid of it, so you better pretend nothing ever happened. Are we clear?"

Both you and Daitou nod obediently.

On your way back, the man can't help the excitement building up in his chest. You liked his gift, didn't you? He hasn't done anything wrong. Does that make it official, then? As he ponders the implications, he peeks at your small frame, barely managing to keep up with him. Would it be alright if he reached for your hand? Is he supposed to ask first? All these steps confuse him to no end.

Nonetheless, he couldn't be more thankful for you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere original character #yandere mafia #mafia x reader #original work #oc x reader #male yandere x reader #x reader

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kitkatscabinet · 7 months

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Don't feed him he'll come back (3)

Simon riley x neighbour reader

summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment block is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: making out, alcohol consumption.

Part 1 here, Part 2 here.

You start the next day riding the high of the previous night. You feel ridiculous, you’ve had relationships before, had been in love before, but the butterflies that stir in your gut whenever you so much as think of Simon put anything you’ve ever felt to shame.

It’s a little pathetic, you haven’t even kissed him. Not to mention you’ve no idea how he even feels about you. Simon’s an incredibly difficult man to read, where you wore your heart on your sleeve, Simon kept his cards incredibly close to his chest. You knew he at least held some affection for you, otherwise he’d never tolerate you dragging him from his apartment into yours. Something that feels dangerously like hope swells in your chest when you remember how tenderly he’d tucked you in and you desperately tried to stamp it out.

Casting your mind back, you attempt to pinpoint exactly where along the path you’d fallen so thoroughly and irrevocably in love with the mysterious neighbour that scared the shit out of so many tenants. Was it when you’d first seen his face?

No that wasn’t it, although, Simon was one of the most stunning men you’d ever seen. You’d been speechless when he’d revealed his face, something you’d been teased for relentlessly, his cocky smirk appearing in the subject of your dreams.

It had to have been before that though, because even if Simon was the ugliest man alive, you’d still love him.

Perhaps it had been when he’d first sat down across from you at the small kitchen counter, large bulk and dark clothing incredibly out of place against the backdrop of your colourful and plushie-filled apartment. It was the first time you’d ever seen him nervous, or rather the first time you could tell he was. But for all that he initially seemed out of place, seeing him in the sanctity of your home made your heart sing with affection.

(Though a part of you acknowledges that your heart has belonged to Simon Riley from the moment he laughed at one of your stupid jokes, it just took a while for your brain to catch up to what your heart already knew.)

You’d never meant to fall in love with the neighbour who’d reeked of loneliness, loneliness that you’d unfortunately recognised and silently vowed to do your best to alleviate. You’d never intended for your feelings to bloom and grow into a garden that now centred around Simon Riley.

But they had. They had and no matter what you did you knew they weren’t likely to be stomped out any time soon.

Knocking on his door that night you try to douse the disappointment that fills you when he doesn’t answer. It wasn’t often that Simon was called away so abruptly that he didn’t even have time to let you know but it still happened occasionally. Sending him a swift text you wish him a safe deployment and sign it off with a new joke you think he’d appreciate.

The days pass much the same. You wake, think about Simon, send him a text and continue about your day. Although you're used to the radio silence it’s like the acknowledgement of your feelings makes the worry and restlessness ten times worse.

When the three-month mark hits with no indication that Simon has even seen your texts, your worry starts to turn into an all-encompassing panic. More than once you’d been so distracted that you’d made a mistake at work, earning the concern of your coworkers and friends as you were unusually out of it.

You want to reassure him but you can’t even reassure yourself. What if he was dead? Would you ever even find out? You weren’t family, there would be no obligation to let you, a random stranger, know. Is this how you were doomed to spend the rest of your life, wondering what had happened to your beloved Simon?

Another two months pass and you’re nothing short of a nervous wreck, your dreams and waking thoughts filled with awful scenarios of Simon being tortured, dying or dead. You can’t sleep, can’t even bring yourself to cook, because it reminds you so painfully of him.

The perpetual state of simply not knowing starts to become too much to bear and you’re on the brink of doing something truly desperate when you run into your landlord. You’re on good terms but he’d not exactly someone you’d ever gone out of your way to speak to. Now, however, you were practically tripping over yourself to catch his attention, not even bothering with small talk. “Have you heard anything from Simon?”

The man’s confusion is palpable and it takes a few minutes of stilted and baffled conversation before he discerns who you’re asking after. “Ah, the man with the mask,” he gestured towards his face, “he terminated his lease a few weeks ago, odd really, still had half a year left.” The conversation may have continued for a little longer but you didn’t hear, your responses filtering through on autopilot.

The soft material of your quilt against the bare skin of your arms, signifying your return to the safety of your bed, is what finally snaps you from your dazed stupor. All of the frantic worry, concern, fear morphing into an apoplectic level of sheer fury. Because Simon was apparently fine. Not only was he fucking fine, he was doing the one thing you’d never thought him possible of, ignoring you.

He was fucking ghosting you.

They say there are five stages of grief. You’ve completely skipped over denial and are stuck on anger, bargaining and acceptance won’t happen and you refuse to let yourself be depressed. Thus, anger it is, and boy is there months of pent-up rage.

Work becomes central to your life, the only thing stopping you from completely crashing and burning, Icarus falling from grace, punishment for falling too hard and too fast for what was unattainable.

You work yourself to the bone just so you can sleep at night without the visage of brown eyes and soft ashy curls infringing on the corners of your consciousness. It’s not sustainable, you know it, your friends know it and your boss knows it. You must look destroyed too because you don’t think your boss has ever encouraged someone to take a break in her entire history working for the company.

It only takes one day of rest before the anger-fueled agitation thrumming through your veins has you pacing relentlessly, your nails are chewed down to stubs and you think you may actually hurt someone if you don’t do something. It’s a bit of a Hail Mary, you know, but you still let out a scream of irritation when none of your friends are free to get blind on a weekday for an impromptu night out. Still, it’s a minor setback and one that your agitation-fueled self won’t be put off by.

Your room is a mess, clothes strewn out all over your bed and floor as you try to find the sluttiest thing you own. Bingbong meows discontentedly as you shove him off a pile of your tops and you simply scowl at the little fat fuck that usually brought you so much joy. However, you do give him goodbye kisses when you finally amble out of your front door and call an Uber.

To your dismay, the man driving you is chatty, even when you give short, terse answers that could not be more clearly a screaming invitation to leave you the fuck alone. He throws you hungry looks in the rearview mirror that makes you want to pull your skin off. You may have dressed to get attention but not from this kind of creep. The car barely rolls to a stop before you jump out, booking it double time to get yourself double parked with some drinks.

You’ve sequestered yourself at the edge of the bar counter, away from the crowd but still close enough to call for drinks on demand. It’s about five drinks in, sculled far too fast for you to keep up properly when you sense a man slide into the seat next to you. Dark hair, blue eyes, devilish grin and when he opens his mouth a delicious Scottish accent flows out. The complete opposite of Simon.

Perfect.

“Buy you a drink?” You were never one to turn down free drinks, especially not from handsome men, not even when your heart still screamed for Simon. Firmly pushing down all thoughts of puppy brown eyes you flash your own version of a flirty smirk, turning to face the man so your knees brush his.

The conversation flows so naturally that for those few moments suspended in time, you really do forget about Simon. It’s clear that both of you are simply searching for some carnal relief and that knowledge helps you to release your last few inhibitions. Just when you contemplate sliding off the stool and leading him away to a dark corner to have your way he slips up and mentions his team.

“Team?” You croak, a mixture of disbelief and dread building.

“Aye, me taskforce. Am in the military.” He must see the way the corners of your mouth are now downturned, your left eye twitching slightly as your mind once again flits toward the blond man who had stolen and then shattered your heart. “Bad experience with a military lad?” There’s no hostility in his tone, just genuine intrigue and you allow yourself to relax once more, focusing intently on his baby blues.

“Two actually” you snort exasperatedly, chest panging a little at the thought of your deceased brother. Swallowing, you regained your nerve, stepping between his spread legs and loosely swung your arms around his neck. “Best not make it a third yeah?” you whispered against his lips, liquid confidence flowing in your veins after far too many cocktails.

A moan reverberates in your chest, caught by Johnny’s, he’d told you to call him Johnny, tongue as his warm hands pulled you to sit on one of his thighs. The muscled flesh grinding upwards and causing you to yelp, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders to stabilise yourself. Somewhere the logical part of your mind, the part dulled dangerously by spirits, is screaming that you’re still very much in public but the heartbroken and horny part wins out as you continue to make out with the Scottish stranger built like a god.

His mouth attaches itself to your neck and your eyelids flutter shut as your hands move to tangle in his hair, tugging harshly to ground yourself from the onslaught of sensations Johnny’s providing your pent-up body with.

Just as one of his palms slips below your shirt you’re suddenly being ripped off the man with a surprising gentleness that you don’t have much time to ponder on before you’re shrieking as you watch Johnny get punched in the jaw.

The alcohol has thoroughly distorted your vision and the dim lighting doesn’t help but the fire in your veins is doused with icy despair as you quickly recognise the large bulk of the man who’d just laid out poor Johnny. The tattoos covering his arm and that goddamn skull mask were simply unmistakable.

“Simon!” Your shrill voice is joined by Johnny’s own pained and confused groan as all three of you struggle to assess what’s just happened.

“Wait, Johnny?” Simon sounded equally as confused, though his chest was still heaving in… anger?

“You know each other?” You cross your arms defensively, drunk brain trying to catch up on the turn of events. You refuse to look at Simon, instead staring at Johnny as he pulls himself up and you wait for an explanation.

“Teammates” Johnny spits out a little blood and you can’t help the somewhat hysterical laugh that bubbles forth.

Teammates.

What were the fucking odds? Of all the attractive men and women frequenting this specific bar you almost shack up with one of Simon’s presumably closest friends. The evil vindictive part of you screams to go through with it anyway, though given Johnny’s sudden wariness and dawning horror as he connects some sort of mental dots you doubt that would be happening.

Huffing, you turned from the two men and gathered your belongings as quickly as possible, hoping to make a hasty escape in the confusion. Hoping to escape before Simon could see you cry.

Whatever deities existed seemingly weren’t on board with your plans and your attempt to skirt around Simon is instantly thwarted as he firmly but gently grabs your bicep.

“Let me go,” you curse the way your voice wavers traitorously even through gritted teeth and you wince when you realise you can’t even bring yourself to say your name. Simon remains silent and if anything his grip even tightens a little, as if he were afraid you would slip through his fingers into nothingness. Incredibly audacious of him considering what he’d put you through these last few months.

“Simon lad, I’m sorry, I dinnae ken they were-” Simon cuts off Johnny’s apology with a wave and curt nod that’s very clearly dismissive. Johnny, the traitorous bastard that he is, simply smiles, bids you farewell and then leaves you to deal with the brute that broke your heart.

Stubbornly you refuse to face him, even when his gruff voice begs you multiple times. Evidently, Simon gets tired of your refusal and forces your eyes to focus on his with a forceful, guiding hand on your chin. Equal parts dismay, arousal and anger wage war in your body at the action and you bite the inside of your cheek so hard you taste the metallic rust of blood.

The silence is damning and though his grip loosens it remains cupping your chin and sliding up to caress your cheek. He’s wearing that stupid skull balaclava and as such you can only see his eyes. Those godforsaken pools of weariness and tenderness that threaten to pull you in until you drown in them. His thumb gently caresses your lip, still swollen from Johnny’s machinations and you force yourself to speak, to display your hurt before he somehow worms his way back into your good graces.

“What? What could you possibly want from me Simon? Haven’t you done enough?” There’s a vulnerability, a defeatedness in your voice that you hadn't meant to let slip but the man catches it, you know he does. Because though you hate to admit it, at this point, even after months apart, you think Simon might know you better than you know yourself.

“I’m sorry.” It’s a pathetic notion and when he doesn’t elaborate it causes you to finally wrench away. You barely make it over the threshold of the exit when suddenly Simon is there once more, crowding into your space with the desperation of a man starved. His arms wrap around you like a vice, trapping your back against his chest.

“Please.” His voice is a hoarse whisper carried away by the wind, just for your ears. “Please, I know I fucked up, please just let me explain.” His body shakes a little against you and you stand there in the cool night air fighting an internal battle. Simon Riley hurt you.

Hurt you far greater than any man or woman had ever managed.

And yet. And yet.

You still loved him so much it burned.

“Ok.” Your voice is croaky, reedlike and thin as your mouth moves without your brain’s permission.

“Ok?” Simon’s head darts up from where it had been resting against you, voice watery and full of childlike hope that you find yourself nodding.

“Ok. But you only get one chance.” Simon all but goes boneless against you, apologies and thanks spilling past his lips like wildfire but you interrupt him before he could go too far. “Not here, my apartment,” you don’t particularly want him in your space, but you can’t do this in public either, “until then just… don’t speak.” Your voice cracks towards the end but neither of you acknowledges it, standing in strained silence as you wait for your ride home.

Simon’s eyes burn holes in the side of your head but once again you refuse to look at him, staring out the window into the darkness of the cityscape as you try to mentally prepare for what’s about to come.

Tags: @innercollectivecomputer @cooliofango @pertinentpostmortem @ghostslillady @domaniquessidehoe2 @ilovehyperfixating @pauphs @skotchi @bunnyreaper @tokusho @ohworm-writes @penismonkey @daisychainsinknots @taman-a @guess-whos-now-a-mood @leclercdream @justarandommom @iwannabealocalcryptid @dd122004dd @actuallyhiswife @alexisv15 @perfectus-in-morte @waves-against-a-cliff @fog-sama @juvenillia

#x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #kat’s writing #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod

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candy69gurl · 18 days

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PERIOD PAIN HEALER !!

PAIRING Step dad!Gojo Satoru x f!reader, Step dad!Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Step dad!Nanami Kento x f!reader, Step dad!Geto Suguru x f!reader, Step dad!Sukuna x f!reader, Step dad!Shiu Kong x f!reader, Step dad!Hiromi Higuruma x f!reader, Step dad!Kamo Choso x f!reader [seperate]

SYNOPSIS It's understandable that the month's arrival brings with it a series of unpleasant sensations and discomfort that nobody enjoys experiencing. However, things aren't so unpleasant when you have someone to support you through this time, such as your caring stepdad, who is more than willing to assist you in any way possible..

WARNING stepcest, pre-established relationship, comfort, nipple sucking & playing, orgasm through nipple playing, bloody pussy eating, use of four arms for pleasure (sukuna), cock warming, p in bloody v, fingering, use of bad nicknames (geto), clit rubbing, soft sex, clit rubbing with cock

NOTE In my experience, having an orgasm during your period reduces cramps. I wrote it while on my periods lol. I'm just a girl (with daddy issues) ... Some people may find the contents unpleasant. Simply block and move on; please do not make disparaging remarks about me or report my post; if you do, prepare to get trolled by my moots. Please read the warnings and do not do this at home (duh). Reposting cause tumblr removed it.

◈ SATORU GOJO

Gojo's eyes widen as he catches the sight of you clad in one of his oversized T-shirts, your small frame barely managing to contain its folds. You look like a lost little rabbit, shivering slightly, bouncing on your toes as you pace nervously near the bathroom door.

"Hey, hey," Gojo murmurs, brows furrowing as he takes in the sight before stepping closer. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, coaxing you to meet his gaze. "What's goin' on, sweetheart?"

His voice is soft, comforting - a stark contrast to his usual cockiness. You look up at him, your eyes filled with uncertainty, and he feels a pang in his chest. Something's clearly off, and he knows he needs to get to the bottom of it.

"Are you alright?" he presses gently, concern coloring his voice as he reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The gentle pressure of his fingers seems to calm you somewhat, and you nod, averting your gaze.

"Yes...", you mumble, but it sounds more like an excuse than the truth.

He tilts your chin upward, "Don't lie to daddy," he whispers softly, searching your eyes for any hint of distress. There's a tenderness in his voice that surprises you both - unusual for the usually arrogant man. Swallowing hard, he adds, "Tell me what's wrong."

Despite yourself, you find yourself opening up, the words spilling forth: "It's just... uh... cramps, and I feel uneasy."

He kneels on his knees, lifting up your top and leaning in to kiss your vulnerable tummy before softly massaging the area. The touch is firm yet soothing, causing you to relax slightly despite the lingering pain.

"That's better, isn't it?" he remarks, a hint of warmth creeping into his voice. You nod syly not breaking eye contact with him. Gojo's expression softens, and he pulls you into a warm embrace. "Ah, I see.. That feels good.. ," he says, rubbing your back soothingly. "Don't worry about it. Let's take care of you, okay?"

As he gently leads you to your room, Gojo's mind races with ways he can help ease your discomfort. He doesn't want you to suffer, not when he could do something about it.

Once settled on the soft cushions, he slowly slides his hands up and down your abdomen, his other hand cupping one of your breast gently in his large palms. You gasp slightly at the sensation, the nipple tingling under his skilled touch. Gently, he rolls it between his thumbs and forefingers, eliciting a moan from deep within you. This causes him to smirk devilishly and lean in closer.

His warm breath caresses your chest as he whispers, "They hurt too, don't they?"

"Y-yes, a bit," you confess shyly.

His smile broadens, and without further ado, he bends his head down and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. A jolt of pleasure shoots through you as he sucks lightly, increasing the pressure gradually, making you squirm involuntarily. His other hand moves from your abdomen to massage the other breast, his thumb occasionally flicking against the engorged nub.

The sensation is uncomfortable and pleasurable simultaneously, bringing forth an array of mixed feelings within you. He lifts his head briefly, looking into your flushed face with a knowing smile. "This should help alleviate some of the discomfort, my dear. Just let go and enjoy it." He returns to his task, sucking harder on your nipple while tweaking the other, sending waves of sensation cascading through your body.

You can't help but give in to the intense feelings coursing through you, your back arching slightly as he continues his ministrations. Your breathing becomes ragged, and you grip the sheets beneath you, trying to stay grounded in reality.

You find yourself reaching climax unexpectedly, your entire body trembling under his touch. "D-daddy cumming," your lips move to form an involuntary moan, and he looks up, satisfaction written across his features.

He releases your nipple, running his thumb over your mouth before pulling you closer. His voice is velvety smooth as he murmurs, "You came just by me sucking your nipples? Guess you are really sensitive now"

With a satisfied hum, he pulls away, drawing you into his embrace. His arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest. "There you go," he mutters, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach as you lean into him. The rhythmic motion quickly lulls you into a sense of comfort, easing the last of your tension.

"Feeling good now?" he asks his crystalline blue eyes turning soft only for you. You nod shyly, closing your eyes momentarily, your heartbeat decreasing.

"Get some rest now, sweetheart. When you wake up, the discomfort will be gone. I'll make sure to stock up on those chocolate candies you love, kikufuku or something similar. That should help cheer you up, yeah?" He speaks into your hair, his voice low and soothing. "And remember, I'm always here for you, no matter what."

Slowly, your eyelids grow heavy, and soon enough, sleep claims you. In his arms, you drift off to dreamland, cradled by his warmth and strength. He watches over you until you're peacefully asleep, then rises from the bed with a content smile, leaving you undisturbed.

◈ TOJI FUSHIGURO

As the pangs begin, you find yourself in agony, groaning softly and clutching your lower abdomen tightly, the whole day you are in your room, you even missed dinner. Suddenly, you hear footsteps to your room, you look up to see your stepdad, Toji, walking into your room with a concerned expression on his face. "What's wrong? Tired of being a brat?" he asks, moving closer to you.

"My period started," you mumble, unable to hide the pain from your voice. "It's so sudden and painful."

Toji, raises an eyebrow in surprise before responding gruffly, "Why do ya always whine about these little things? It happens to everyone! Get over it!" He waves dismissively, leaving you feeling hurt and ignored. Your heart sinks as tears start to form in your eyes, "Don't cry now, I swear I can't tolerate ya's mood swings during these days," he observes you closely for a moment, noticing the genuine distress in your eyes.

After witnessing your pain and tears, Toji's cold exterior crumbles slightly, replaced by tenderness and guilt. Though he is annoyed by how weak and whiny you are, he can't bear to watch his little step daughter suffering. Gently, he props onto your bed, the bed jumping slightly with his weight, as he pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. He starts to rub your stomach in soft, slow circles, attempting to alleviate some of the pain.

"Sorry," his voice husky with regret, "I didn't mean to be harsh. Let me make it up to you." His hand gradually moves from your stomach to your neck, his thumb gently tracing circles on your tender skin. The sensation mixes with the pressure of his touch, bringing a sense of comfort and relaxation that slowly takes over your body.

"Just close your eyes and rest," he whispers in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you." As if in a trance, you obey his instructions, allowing his words and touch to lull you into a state of calmness. His hands continue their gentle rhythm, kneading your stomach and caressing your neck, his lips occasionally brushing softly against your cheek.

As you drift off to sleep in Toji's caring embrace, you find solace in his presence and the gentle caresses that soothe your body. The tension in your muscles slowly dissipates, and eventually, exhaustion claims you. Time passes unnoticed as you both rest, your breathing deepening and evening out into peaceful slumber.

However, as night falls, your cramps return with a vengeance, waking you up from your peaceful slumber with a gasp. You wriggle uncomfortably, your hands instinctively clutching your stomach as pain courses through you. Your eyes flutter open to find Toji also awake, concern etched upon his features. He watches you intently, his own face contorted with worry as he observes your discomfort.

He repeats this motion multiple times, his tongue tracing intricate patterns across your sensitive skin, each movement accompanied by soft, reassuring whispers. His hands reach for yours, pulling them away gently from your stomach. "Shh, don't worry," he murmurs, concern evident in his voice. "I know it hurts, but we don't have any heating pads or medication here. What if I try something else?" He looks at you expectantly, a glint of determination in his eyes.

You nod hesitantly, unsure of what else could possibly help. Slowly, he shifts his position, leaning closer to you. His gaze locks onto your stomach, his expression intense as he focuses on the task at hand. Then, without warning, Toji presses his lips to your stomach, the warmth of his breath sending waves of relief throughout your tense muscles. His tongue darts out, lightly flicking at your skin, causing a shiver to race down your spine. Surprised, you let out a small moan, your body reacting to his unexpected touch.

You get caught off guard by Toji's sudden move, you let out a soft squeak as he swiftly removes your shorts and panties. Embarrassment washes over you, but his determined gaze leaves no room for protest. He glances at your blood-covered pad, a hint of curiosity in his green eyes, as if studying the sight for the first time.

Before you can recover from the shock of his actions, he holds you firmly but gently in place, his hands strong on your hips, pinning you to the bed.

"Please...don't do anything.. It's weird," you stammer, your eyes wide with surprise and embarrassment, but there's a hint of desire there too - this wasn't exactly an unwelcome sensation.

"Shhh," he hushes you, his voice rough with desire. "This might help, trust me." And with that, he lowers his head, his mouth approaching your bloody core.

As soon as his mouth touches you, the sensation is overwhelming. The warmth of his lips combined with the wet heat of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. His movements are neither tentative nor shy, rather they're hungry and bold, as if he's been waiting for this moment for a long time.

Blood colors his lips and chin as he continues to feast on you. Despite the circumstances, a strange mixture of pleasure and embarrassment fills you.

"It feels so...weird but good," you confess, biting your lip as pleasurable shivers rack your body.

Toji lifts his head, his gaze locked on yours, "Good?" he queries, his voice thick with lust. His eyes reflect a primal satisfaction that overwhelms any semblance of shame or guilt. Your response seems to ignite something within him, and he dives back in with renewed vigor, his tongue delving deeper, his hunger growing stronger. The scent of your blood mingled with your natural arousal fills the air, heightening the intensity of the experience.

With Toji's relentless attention, it doesn't take long for you to reach your climax. Your body arches involuntarily, a gasp escaping your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you. He feels it too, the tremors beneath him signaling your release. His tongue never stops its steady pace, guiding you through the peak of your ecstasy until you finally collapse back onto the bed, panting heavily.

Toji pulls away with a satisfied hum, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. "That should help the cramps," he states, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

But instead of leaving, he crawls up alongside you, pulling you into another tight embrace. "Rest now, kay?," he whispers, nuzzling your neck as he speaks. "We'll deal with anything else tomorrow."

Despite the unusual circumstances, you find comfort in his arms once again. His chest rises and falls steadily next to yours, his heartbeat a calming rhythm that lulls you back into slumber. The night stretches ahead, quiet and peaceful, with nothing but the two of you sharing the same space.

◈ NANAMI KENTO

As the door creaks open, you know right away it's Nanami stepping in. The scent of his cologne wafts towards you, signaling his arrival. You glance up from the couch and look towards the hallway, anticipating his arrival.

"Hey, honey," he greets softly, voice carrying a hint of weariness. "How are you doing?"

You give him a weak smile, trying to hide the pain you feel from your period. "Just dealing with some cramps, dad," you reply, trying to sound as casual as possible. "No big deal."

He nods, offering you a sympathetic look as he walks closer, then removes his jacket & glasses and places his work bag on the coffee table. "Well, let's see if there's anything I can do to help you out," he says, reaching out to gently brush your hair aside.

"Oh, don't worry about me, dad," you assure him quickly, attempting to put on a brave face despite the discomfort. "It's not that bad. But thank you for asking."

Nanami raises an eyebrow at you, studying your expression carefully. "Don't try to lie to me, sweetheart, I can see your toes curling from the pain" he says gently. "I understand how painful these periods can be. Here, come. Let me help you, okay?", he says gesturing you on his lap.

You hesitate for a moment, feeling embarrassed about showing your weakness in front of him. However, Nanami's concern is evident in his eyes and you can't resist the urge to lean into his comforting embrace. As you sit on his lap, he wraps his arms around you tightly, providing you with warmth and support.

"There you go," he murmurs softly, rubbing your back in circular motions. "Do you want some painkillers? Maybe a hot pad? Or anything that will lessen your pain?" he offers.

Your body responds instinctively to his touch, moving closer to him unconsciously. You feel yourself grinding against him slightly and gasp, realizing what you've done. Your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, but Nanami remains composed.

"Easy now," he says quietly, placing his hand on your hips to steady both of you. "We'll take care of this quickly, okay?"

Feeling guilty for making him hard, you reach for his pants, running your fingers along the outline of his erection through the fabric. It's hard and warm beneath your touch and you pause before slowly stroking it.

"Will you feel good, if it's in you?", he asks; he is genuinely concerned about your well being more than his own.

You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your face once again."Yes, please... I think it would help," you admit shyly.

Nanami looks at you thoughtfully for a moment before nodding slowly. "Alright, then," he says decisively, lifting you up, freeing his member.

Nanami's thumb pushes aside your panties, his other hand positions his shaft at your entrance. He slowly slips into your bloodied cunt, the crimson fluid and your arousal making it easier for him to slide through your gummy walls. You gasp softly at the sensation, your eyes fluttering closed as he stretches your insides.

For a few moments, neither of you moves; his hands resting firmly on your waist, his breath warm on your neck. Then, your hips begin to buck involuntarily against him, seeking deeper penetration. The combination of pain and pleasure sends shivers down your spine.

Your red fluids seeps into his tan-coloured trousers, making them brown. But that's not his concern now. "That's it," Nanami murmurs approvingly, adjusting his grip on your hip as you move. "Let it out, baby girl. Let everything out."

Slowly, he begins to thrust into you, setting a rhythm that matches your movements. His hands roam across your body, finding your nipples and rubbing them lightly. The pleasure intensifies, culminating in soft moans escaping from your lips.

As Nanami's thrusts become more forceful, so does your breathing. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you and soon enough, you feel the edge of release drawing near.

"Daddy.. A-ah.." You whisper hoarsely, gripping onto him tightly as your orgasm builds up. You're on the verge of losing control, feeling every nerve ending ignite.

A final powerful thrust sends you over the edge, your body trembling and you arching into him. A cry escapes your lips, muffled against his shoulder as you let it all out - all the pent-up frustration, discomfort, and desire colliding together in an intense climax.

Nanami holds you close, riding out your orgasm until the last ripple subsides. Once you're stable, he pulls out his blood-coated shaft slowly, leaving you slightly empty but content.

"There you go," he whispers reassuringly as you leans onto his chest. "That should help ease the cramps."

You lean into him, panting heavily as your mind starts to clear. The tension from the day dissolves away, replaced by a sense of satisfaction.

"Thank you, Daddy," you murmur gratefully, your voice shaky yet sincere.

Nanami smiles gently, kissing your temple. "Anything for my little girl," he promises softly.

◈ GETO SUGURU

Your stepfather, Suguru, has always been distant but kind when necessary, and you knew that he will help you with this matter as well. He takes care of all your needs, giving you various stuffs to help you go through your periods. Despite your gratitude, the fact remains that he despises non-sorcerers.

“You should be grateful I take care of such filth. Monkeys are disgusting creatures", he says while rubbing your back gently.

"Sorry for being a burden..", you reply, your eyes getting teary once again.

His face softens slightly as he continues comforting you, trying to make sure you feel better despite his true thoughts about you,

“Don’t worry about being a burden. It’s my duty to take care of you too, after all. Now focus on feeling better, monkey.”

"S'top being mean...", you speak nuzzling your head against his chest.

Surprised by your sudden reaction, he quickly puts aside his arrogance and focuses entirely on relieving your pain. A smile forms on his lips, albeit reluctantly, as he pats your head gently, secretly enjoying the momentary affection. “I’m not being mean, child. Just stating the truth. But since you asked nicely, I’ll stop for now.”

You relax in his embrace, yet flinch occasionally when cramps pain you. Gently rubbing your lower abdomen in a circular motion, he asks, “Are you okay? This shouldn’t hurt this much.”

As he continues his ministrations, his hands accidentally brush against your clit, causing a shiver to run through your body, you bite your lip trying to stop an incoming moan. Noticing this, he hesitates for a second, but then decides to continue, figuring that it might provide some relief. “Just let me help you here…” he murmurs softly

Cautiously, he reaches down and begins removing your underwear, making sure not to aggravate your delicate area further. Once it's off, he gently massages your exposed bud.

“This should help ease your discomfort,” he whispers reassuringly, his fingers lingering on your most sensitive spots.

"P-please, your hands are getting dirty..", your hands moving to stop his. He chuckles dryly at your protest, his expression darkening slightly as he maintains his touch.

“Believe me, I’ve dealt with far worse than this. Now try to relax, monkey.” with that, he continues stroking you, occasionally brushing against your entrance as well.

You gasp softly, trying to contain your growing arousal. The contradiction between his harsh words and gentle touch creates a strange mix of emotions within you.

“Please, don't call me that," you plead, your voice barely audible.

He stops abruptly, his gaze hardening as he meets yours. “There’s nothing wrong with the truth. Now, monkey focus on breathing and letting go of this pain.”

Without warning, he slides two fingers inside you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. His eyes lock onto yours, watching your reactions intently as he starts moving them rhythmically.

“This might be uncomfortable at first, but it will help more than you think.”

Despite your embarrassment, the sensation is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. His skilled fingers create waves of pleasure mixed with pain. You squirm beneath his touch, unsure how to react to your conflicting emotions.

He watches your reactions carefully, his eyes filled with a mixture of satisfaction. "Good girl. Relax and enjoy it. This will make you feel better."

His rhythmic thrusts start to increase, matching the intensity of your growing arousal. You can't help but moan softly, your body responding to his touch despite your reservations.

"That's right. Let it out," he encourages, his voice lowers into a growl, his eyes narrowing slightly as he feels your walls tighten around his digits.

“Feel free to make noise, monkey. You need this release” The deeper he plunges, the stronger your reactions become. Your breath hitches, and you can't help but wrap your legs around his wrist, pulling him closer.

He grins wickedly, twisting his fingers inside you ever so slightly as he continues thrusting. His fingers dance in a way that brings an unusual sense of ecstasy and discomfort simultaneously.

Despite his choice of words, there’s something strangely comforting about his dominance. You find yourself lost in the sensations, your protests fading away until all that remains is the rhythmic movement of his fingers and the occasional muffled moan escaping your lips.

Ignoring the sight of his fingers coated with your crimson fluid everytime he moves out of you, he intensifies his movements, focusing on your pleasure rather than the messiness. Despite his usual contempt, his interest seems to peak with every drop of blood coating his fingers.

“Such a good girl. Love you sweetheart.. Let it all out.” His deep voice echoes in your ears like a chant, urging you to give in to the sensations. As your climax draws near, his words resonate louder in your mind, guiding you towards the peak.

The orgasm hits you like a wave, overwhelming your senses as he skillfully drives you to the edge. Your body trembles beneath him, your nails digging into whatever they could find purchase in, and you cry out.

His expression turns feral as you reach your high, a hint of triumph glimmering in his eyes. When your orgasm subsides, he pulls his fingers out slowly, licking them clean.

Your eyes and mouth, both widen at his action.

"Still feeling pain?", he asks, his demeanor chaning back to normal.

You take deep breaths, trying to regain your composure. Despite the lingering discomfort, there's a newfound sense of warmth within you, thanks to his touch.

“N-no not anymore... Thank you, daddy”, you thank him, your hands reaching for his, attempting to intertwine your fingers with his..

His eyes meet yours, a flicker of surprise passing through them before he smirks. “Of course, my little monkey. After all, it's my responsibility to take care of you too, isn't?", He pinches your cheek, and you nod, tilting back your head to rest.

◈ RYOMEN SUKUNA

Ryomen enters the room, his usual stoic expression barely shifting as he takes in the sight of you, holding your stomach from the cramps. "Uraume," he growls, gesturing towards the you. "Assist her." Turning his gaze back to you, he studies you for a moment before speaking again. "Your monthly curse approaches, huh? I suppose it can't be helped. Uraume will help you with the pain. Stay still, and try not to-"

"P-please.. I need you", you protest, wanting to be comforted only by him.

"Hmm, I see" Sukuna raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the request. He slowly moves closer, examining your face before pulling you close to him gently.

With a sigh, he concedes. "Very well, your pleading is... entertaining. Lie down, and we shall see if I can ease your suffering."

He helps you onto the soft tatami mat, gently placing a pillow underneath your head. He reaches out to untie your obi, revealing your delicate undergarments. Carefully, he lifts them aside and lowers his head towards you then begins to lick and nibble at your flesh, blood droplets landing on his tonue.

"S-stop i-its dirty!", you protest, try to push his massive head away from your core.

He grins devilishly, his eyes gleaming in delight as he grasps your legs firmly with his two powerful arms. While his third hand expertly kneads your breast, his 'mouth' forms from the fourth one, closing over your nipple possessively. He sucks gently, causing your body to arch involuntarily.

"Hmph, you taste delicious. Just like ripe fruit..." He hums, his breath hitting your core. You feel yourself becoming flushed, his actions both embarrassing yet exhilarating. Despite your protests, you can't deny the pleasure coursing through you.

As his lips trace delicately across your skin, you begin to feel a warm sensation building within you. Your breathing becomes ragged, and your hips buck subconsciously. Slowly, his skilled hands and mouth bring you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you let out a muffled cry, your release washing over you.

Once you've caught your breath, he pulls away, satisfaction radiating from his gaze. "There, much better. Your monthly pain curse should subside now." He smirks, wiping his mouth clean before standing up. "You may rest, dear. Remember, I am here to assist you whenever you need, even with such trivial matters."

With a final glance at your flushed face, Ryomen licks his lips slowly, his eyes lingering on your twitching body for just a moment longer. Then, to your astonishment, he leans in and presses his lips against your stomach.

"Goodnight, my dear." He says, disappearing into the shadows with a soft rustling of robes, leaving only the faintest.

◈ SHIU KONG

"Hey there, kiddo," he asks softly, setting down his cigarette on the table. "How are you feelin' today?" He knows your cycle started yesterday and he just wanna make sure you're alright. "Need anything from me? Want some ice cream?" he suggests with a crooked smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"N-NO", you nearly yell at him but soon realise you shouldn't have; your mood swings are getting the best of you.

"Alright, alright." He chuckles, raising his hands defensively. "I wasn't gonna force you to eat ice cream if you don't want to.. Just making an offer."

He stands up, crossing the room to sit next to you. His large hand gently rests on your shoulder. "Just let me know if you need anything, okay?" His eyes widen at the sudden appearance of tears, concern filling his face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest.

"What's goin' on, huh? What's got you all upset?" He strokes your hair gently, trying to offer comfort. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I won't judge you."

The warmth of his embrace seeps into your bones, "Just cramps..", you reply, your voice slightly shaken by your emotions.

"Ah, that's rough," he says, nodding understandingly. "Let me grab you some painkillers, then. And maybe a heating pad to help ease those cramps."

As he gets up, he adds, "Try to relax, alright? We'll get through this together."

The way he says 'we' makes your heart skip a beat, but you push the thought away, focusing on the relief of his words.

"C-can you just stay here and", you pull his hand and direct it around your abdomen where it aches, "please massage it?"

Surprised, Shiu looks down at your hands, then back into your eyes. "Of course," he murmurs, resting one hand on your tummy and the other on your thigh. His fingers press gently, moving in slow circles. "Is this okay?"

His palm warms against your skin, alleviating some tension. You let out a shaky groan, giving in to his touch and allowing him to make you feel better.

He swallows hard, adjusting his grip, pressing deeper into your abdomen. The heat from his hand spreads, easing some of the pain.

"Better?" he whispers, concern etched onto his face. "Don't worry," he continues, glancing away nervously. "I've dealt with enough curse users in my career to handle a little cramping."

As his hands move rhythmically across your stomach, his eyes catch yours, lingering for just a moment too long. They try to ignore the electric charge between them.

"Yes..." you answer breathlessly, closing your eyes. "That feels good..." Your body responds to his touch, and you can't help but wish it would last forever.

Shiu shifts his patterns, from rubbing your abdomen to sliding through your shorts to rub against your clad clit. You are too absorbed in pleasure to notice his hand slipping through your shorts. When you come back to your senses, your eyes follow the movement of his hands.

"I said I'd help with the cramps, not..." he trails off, glancing away sheepishly. "Sorry, didn't mean to get carried away", tries to take his hands off you, when you stop him.

"N-no daddy, feels good", you speak timidly, not making eye contact with him.

He freezes for a second, his eyes widening. He chuckles, though it sounds shaky. "Guess you got a bit carried away too, huh?" With a smirk, he resumes his massage, adjusting his hand to provide more pressure to your clit. He leans closer, his free hand coming to cup your cheek.

"You alright?" he asks, concern coloring his voice. "This isn't making things worse, right?" You shake your head, still avoiding his glances. "Well, well," he chuckles, his fingers continuing their dance. "Seems like someone's enjoying this more than they should."

He rubs his thumb agains your lips. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna do anything you don't want. Just trying to make you feel better."

His touch grows bolder, his hand removing your shorts and panties to rub your clit bare. Your body flinches on direct contact.

His hand pauses, his eyes meeting yours. The look in his eyes is a mix of surprise and exhilaration. "Shall I continue?" he asks, concern filling his tone.

"Yes... yes please," you whisper, blushing furiously.

His eyebrows raise, but he nods slowly. "Okay, just let me know if it's too much, alr?" His fingers resume their movement, rubbing your swollen clit with renewed vigor. You moan softly, leaning into his touch.

He takes advantage of your vulnerability, his other hand sneaking under your shirt to caress your breast. His fingers brush against your nipple, and you gasp, arching into his touch. A shiver runs down your spine, your thighs parting naturally to accommodate his hand.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he whispers, his hand moves downwards, exploring your stomach, hips, and thighs.

Then, you finally cry out, your legs trembling as an orgasm rips through you, more crimson fluid oozing from within you. Shiu freezes, his eyes wide, "Whoa, whoa, easy there, kiddo," he mutters.

He stops his ministrations, allowing you to recover from your climax. When you finally regain control, he lets out a quiet laugh. "Didn't expect that," he admits, shaking his head slightly. "But hey, if it feels good, then I guess I did a good job"

"Y-yes felt good.. T-thanks dad..", you admit swallowing hard.

"I'm glad, really," he replies, his hands returning to your stomach. His eyes finally meeting yours again.

"But you know," he says hesitantly. "If you ever need a hand... helping you out, you can count on me, right girl?" He smiles, cupping your jaw. "Just remember that."

◈ HIGURUMA HIROMI

Upon returning from work, Hiromi notices his little girl curled up in bed, clutching her abdomen in obvious discomfort. Immediately, concern fills his usually stoic expression. He gently approaches you and examines your face, trying to gauge the severity of your pain.

"Darling," he whispers softly, trying not to startle you. "Are you unwell?" His hand rests lightly on her forehead, feeling for any signs of fever.

You shift in your sleep whispering, "Period pain"

Hiromi's brow furrows with worry, realizing what might be causing your discomfort. He reaches out to grab a pillow and gently places it under your knees to ease the pressure on your lower abdomen.

"I'm so sorry," he says, tenderly. "Didn't expect this to happen today. Let me make you something warm and comforting to help ease the pain."

He stands up to leave for kitchen when you stop him by his hands. "P-please you don't need to do anything.."

He looks down at you, his heart aching for the discomfort you must be experiencing. He understands your desire to handle things independently, but as your stepdad, he feels responsible for taking care of you.

"No matter how grown-up you try to be," Hiromi says softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead, "You're still my little girl, and I want to help you feel better." He kneels beside the bed again and takes your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Tell me what will make you feel better"

"You..", you reply instantly and involuntarily.

Hiromi looks at you confused by your request," Me?"

Words stuck in your throat as you swallow hard while speaking again, "inside me.."

Hiromi's eyes widen slightly at your unexpected words. He releases a quiet breath, trying to process what you are asking of him. There's a moment where confusion lingers in his gaze before understanding dawns upon him.

"I... I understand," he says in a measured tone. "But are you sure about this?"

His fingers trace gentle circles on the back of your hand, offering both comfort and support. "It's alright if you're uncomfortable discussing it. We can find another way to help with the pain."

You speak again slowly, not meeting his gaze. "Please.."

Hiromi swallows hard, a mix of emotions churning in his chest. Surprise, worry, and protectiveness all coalesce into a single determination. He knows he can't force himself onto you, no matter how much he wants to ease your pain. But he also recognizes your need for comfort and relief.

"Alright," he agrees quietly, rising from the bed to move to the foot of it. "Let's get you more comfortable first."

With utmost gentleness, Hiromi eases you onto your back, making sure you're lying flat and secure on the bed. He removes your remaining clothing, ensuring you're comfortable throughout the process. Once you're settled, his fingertips brush against your skin, eliciting a shiver from you.

"Sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. "Just trying to make you as comfortable as possible."

He prepares himself, taking off his garments and discarding them on the floor, "Ready?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

A tremulous nod is your response, your eyes locked with his. Hiromi smiles softly, reaching for your legs. He spreads them apart gently, his touch tender yet purposeful.

"We'll take this slowly," he promises, his thumbs brushing the inside of your thighs. Your thighs shake slightly, but he stops immediately. "If at any moment you feel pain or discomfort, please tell me, okay?"

You give a small nod, and he continues, his fingers tracing along your inner thighs before eventually finding their way to your core. A nervous flutter courses through you, but he remains patient and gentle.

"Just relax," he instructs as he directs himself between your legs.

Hiromi enters you slowly, taking his time to allow your body to adjust to his presence. He moves with careful precision, each thrust deliberate and unhurried. A deep sense of tenderness fills him as he looks into your eyes, gauging your reaction. Your breath hitches with each movement, but there's no sign of distress.

"How are you doing?" he asks softly, his pace matching the rhythm of your breathing.

"Good..so good.. It's so deep and it's.. a-ah", you flinch at his sudden and rough thrust.

Hiromi winces slightly at your discomfort, stopping instantly. "I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to cause you pain." He pulls out slowly, his expression full of concern.

"No, it's fine..." you breathe out. "Don't stop..."

He studies your face for a moment, making sure you're truly okay. When he sees your nod, he begins again, moving slower than before.

As his movements continue, his shaft becomes coated with your menstrual blood. Despite the unusual circumstance, Hiromi pushes those thoughts aside and focuses solely on providing comfort and relief. Each stroke is filled with tender care, designed to bring warmth and pleasure rather than discomfort.

Your eyes close, your body arching ever so slightly with each thrust. The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of your soft moans and his steady breaths.

As the minutes pass, Hiromi can feel your body responding to his touch, the subtle changes telling him you're nearing your climax. His own heart races, feeling a strange mixture of pride and protectiveness. All he desires is to provide you with comfort and release.

"That's it," he whispers, his tempo increasing ever so slightly. "Let go, darling. Let the pleasure wash away your pain."

Suddenly, your body tenses, a wave of ecstasy washing over you. Hiromi matches your intensity, his own breath catching in his throat as he feels your muscles clench around him. With one final surge, he follows you over the edge, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

As your orgasm subsides, Hiromo collapses onto your chest, his heart pounding heavily against yours. He kisses your forehead softly, his breath ragged. "There you go," he murmurs.

"Thank you for trusting me," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I hope this helped alleviate your pain."

You look up at him, a grateful smile gracing your lips. "Thank you, it does not pain anymore"

Smile washes over Hiromi's face as he realizes his actions have indeed brought you relief. He pulls out slowly, carefully cleaning up afterwards. Once done, he helps you get cleaned and comfortable, tucking you in tightly.

Hiromi wraps you in his arms, feeling your gratitude like a soothing balm on his soul. He holds you close, stroking your hair gently as you snuggle against his chest. The silence between you speaks volumes about the bond shared - one of love, protection, and unspoken understanding.

"Get some rest now," he says softly, his voice lulling you further into relaxation.

◈ CHOSO KAMO

As a stepfather, Choso is there for you in times of need. Right now, you're going through your period, and he's ready to help take care of you. He's not bold or confident, but he knows how important it is to support you during this time.

Being a curse, Choso is indeed curious about the human body. As he helps you with your period, he finds himself fascinated by your menstrual cycle. He wants to comfort you and learn more about this natural process, taking care of you while gently studying your body.

Gently, Choso holds you close as you lay on his thighs, the cramps making you hiss occasionally. His fingers lightly trace circles over your stomach, attempting to provide comfort as he absorbs the rhythm of your pain. The unfamiliar feeling of caring for someone heals a part of him, even though it's something as simple as relieving period cramps.

"Are you okay?" Choso whispers softly, concern lacing his voice. "I've never experienced something like this before... I want to help, but I'm not sure what to do." He continues stroking your stomach, trying to find some relief for you and hoping his touch brings comfort amidst the discomfort.

You force a smile, saying you're fine, but Choso can tell you're not. Your words don't match the tension in your body. He carefully moves closer, placing his hands between your legs, gently caressing your stomach in a slow, soothing motion.

"May I try massaging your lower abdomen?," he suggests, cautiously approaching your abdomen. His fingers are warm and soft, hesitating slightly as he seeks your permission. "It might help with the cramps," he adds, his dark purple eyes filled with concern. He's never done this before, but he wants to help you feel better. He's always been interested in human bodies and their functions, but now he's learning more intimately.

Reluctantly, you nod, allowing Choso to continue massaging your lower abdomen. His fingers move slowly, tracing gentle patterns that might bring you some relief. As he works his fingers, you instinctively start grinding against his hand, seeking more friction to ease your discomfort. Choso notices this, but doesn't stop.

As his fingers reach closer to your core, you let out soft moans that he interprets as pleasure rather than pain. He sees how much you enjoy it, and decides to use his other hand too, cupping your hip to guide you into proper position. He studies your reactions, understanding that the sensation seems to bring you relief. The curves of your hips and the heat of your body under his hands make him feel both excited and responsible for your well-being.

"Is this helping?" he asks, his voice low and husky, portraying a hint of excitement. "I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but I think it might be working." He watches your movements closely, guided by your responses. Every moan, every small sound of pleasure fuels his curiosity and makes him wonder how else he could make you feel good.

Despite his confusion and innocence, Choso can't ignore the growing attraction between you both. His cock starts to stiffen, pressing against his clothes. He groans softly trying to hide his arousal but you soon turn your head to reveal his massive bulge pressing against your head.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, embarrassed by his reaction. "This wasn't supposed to happen..." He's unsure how to handle the situation, partially aroused and partially concerned for you. "Should we stop?"

"P-please, let me grind against it", with a mix of surprise and nervousness, you beg him to let you grind against his erection. Choso's heart races; this isn't what he expected. Reluctantly, he places your head on the pillow, positions himself between your legs and undoes your pants, revealing your bloodied and swollen pussy. His eyes widen, he has never seen something like this.

He pulls out his own hard cock making sure he does everything to make you feel better. Carefully, he guides the head of his cock to your throbbing clit, rubbing it back and forth in small motions. Your contractions push your wet folds onto the tip of his shaft, leaving a trail of blood. Choso can't help but groan, feeling the warmth and wet folds rubbing against his member.

Choso looks into your eyes, seeking consent or dismissal. What he sees is desire, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Swallowing hard, he feels a strange mixture of arousal and responsibility. Choso's pace increases as both of you moan heavily. He keeps rubbing his cock against your clit, feeling your wetness increase with each thrust.

Soon, you climax, shaking in his grasp, and he can't hold back anymore. Aching to release his own tension, Choso spills his cum onto your belly, still rubbing his cock against your clit. The warmth of your body and the sight of his seed spreading over your skin overwhelm him. "I'm—I'm sorry," he mumbles, pulling away. "That wasn-"

You interrupt him with "T-thank you.."

Choso's face turns bright red, but he can't deny the gratitude in your voice. Confusion clouds his mind, but he appreciates your Thank you.

"Y-you're welcome..." He stammers, trying to catch his breath. Despite everything, he feels satisfied knowing he brought pleasure to you. "Do you feel better now?"

"Y-yes so much", you admit.

After a moment, Choso kisses your cheeks gently, surprised at how soft and warm they feel. He stands up, helping you to your feet as well. "Let's clean up," he says quietly, guiding you towards the bathroom.

dividers from @/cafekitsune

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ickadori · 6 months

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OMG I love you mean reader au, I have a question!!

¿Does the reader ever makes Yuuji jealous on purpose? Maybe with someone they don't see as often because everyone close knows Yuujis girl backs and also bites , so I can see her doing it with maybe someone from Kyoto.

I feel Yuuji is the kind to let it pass or act oblivious cuz he knows I would piss her off but when they are on private he let's her know that playing stupid games lead you to win stupid prices.

Anyways as you can see I'm super super invested in you au, you are an amazing writer❤️

[cws] fem reader. i named the kyoto student ryo. sukuna takes over at the end. anal at the end. overstimulation. half a sprinkle of impact play -> like 2 spanks.

You’re always so dismissive to everyone, especially to those who aren’t in your inner circle. If you don’t interact with them on a daily basis, you couldn’t care less to hear what they have to say, and it’s not an unusual sight to see you rudely walk away mid conversation.

The same could be said for the Kyoto students.

You weren’t friendly with any of them, and had even ended up on bad terms with a few due to your nature. Yuji had been sure he was going to have to intervene in at least five times with the same person in order to keep the peace during their impromptu visit, but to his surprise, to everyone’s surprise, you had been on your best behavior.

You had greeted everyone, albeit with an annoyed ‘hey’ followed by a roll of your eyes, but that was leagues better than what you had done last year! When Todo had intruded on you and Yuji’s conversation, you hadn’t tried to smash Maki’s cursed tool against his head like you usually do, but had rather pursed your lips and excused yourself from the conversation, leaving him to listen to tales about Takada and other nonsensical things.

All in all, the day was going alright. You hadn’t gotten into a heated argument with anyone, nor had he sensed any spikes in cursed energy for the last hour or so that you had been out of his sight. Deciding that he’d just about enough of Todo droning on and on about the feeling of Takada’s hand in his own, Yuji begins to plot his escape.”

“It was a riveting—”

“You heard that?” Yuji cuts Todo off, eyebrows furrowed as he cups his hand to his ear. “I think that’s my girlfriend screaming in agonizing pain—gotta go.” He jogs away, ignoring the call of his name, and snickers to himself as he rounds the corner, one hand slipping into his pocket to retrieve his phone.

Just where are you, he thinks to himself as he scrolls to your contact, a smile breaking out onto his face at the sight of your contact picture. It showcased you giving him an annoyed look, face scrunched up cutely as you had your hand raised, a failed attempt to block your face from the camera. He shoots you a quick text asking where you are, followed by a barrage of heart emojis and kiss emojis, and he stops in front of the vending machine as he waits for your reply, deciding to buy himself and you a drink.

He’s halfway through his soda when you suddenly come rounding the corner, and he smiles as he pockets his phone, only for his smile to falter a bit when he notices that you’re smiling too, at someone that isn’t him—which isn’t a problem in and of itself! Yuji isn’t some crazy jealous guy, but it’s weird to see you look so… jolly. Who are you talking to?

A second person comes around the corner, and his face sours as he recognizes it as Kyoto’s newest 3rd year, Ryo. Yuji tries to be friendly with everyone, but he written the man off from the moment he saw him, not liking the way his eyes had raked you up and down while you had standing right beside Yuji—what was he, blind? It had been so obvious the two of you were together, what with the way Yuji had been trying to fuse your mouths together.

“Yuji,” you call, eyes crinkling as you grab ahold of Ryo’s wrist and pulls him over. Yuji takes another sip of his soda, cursing to himself when he feels Sukuna start to stir inside him. “You remember Ryo, right?”

It’s a tease—he knows it is. He had spent the better half of an hour that day complaining to you about him, while Sukuna had laughed and suggested he ‘pluck his fucking eyes out next time, brat, problem solved’, which he would never do, obviously, but the idea was a bit enticing…especially now, as Yuji is forced to watch the way Ryo takes in your ass when you stretch up to place a kiss on his cheek while you take your drink from his hand.

“He says he’s been thinking about transferring here, right?” You direct your attention to Ryo as you spin around, his eyes darting up to your face, and Yuji can’t keep his clear annoyance off his face.

“Right. I’m really liking the vibe here for some reason.” He grins, and Yuji nearly drags you away in response.

“Hm. Wonder why that is?” You giggle, fucking giggle, and an anger that’s part his own and part his curse’s begins to fester in his gut. Yuji sees the two of you stiffen, no doubt due to Sukuna’s sudden spike in energy, and he gathers the back of your shirt in his hand, the veins along the back of his hand protruding as he tugs you back into him. “Y… Yuji?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” His chin hovers over your shoulder as he stares Ryo down, and something must show in his eyes then, because Ryo is flinching back and stuttering over his words as he takes slow steps back. “Did you want Sukuna?”

“No.” You hastily reply, and the bottle in your hand crinkles as your grip on it tightens.

“‘S that because you think I’m gonna go easy on you?”

“…”

“Because I’m not.”

The unmistakable ‘plap plap’ of Yuji’s hips snapping into your own is loud in the confined space, and you lift a shaky hand, intending on using it to push at his stomach. It’s snatched and pushed down against your chest before you can even fully raise it, and your mouth opens on a silent cry when he slams his cock into you.

“Yu—!”

He grunts, the hand that had been holding him above you moving to cover your mouth, leaving him no choice but to crush you with his weight. “Don’t -shit- call my name.” He rasps, beads of sweat rolling down the slope of his nose just as he rolls his hips into your, pelvis grinding down against your clit with every movement.

You’re sensitive, sore, and every touch, every stroke, sends a pleasurable pain zapping through your body. You don’t know how many times you’ve come, or how long it’s been since Yuji practically dragged you into a supply closet and got you down on your back, with Sukuna goading him on the entire time.

‘You gonna finally put her in her place, brat?’

‘Y’know she’s gonna do it again unless you punish her.’

‘Look how she was smiling. She did it on purpose. You’re too soft on her - let me deal with it.’

‘What’re you doing, idiot? Get your mouth off her cunt. Is this a fucking reward or a punishment?’

‘Slap her around—shut up, girl. Do it. She likes it, see? Look at the mess she’s making on our cock.’

A particularly hard thrust has your eyes rolling and your toes curling in your loafers, and your mouth falls open when he brushes against that spot, eyebrows pulling together as a fresh bout of tears spring to your eyes.

“You crying now?” Sukuna snarks, and Yuji falters, his eyes popping open from where they had been squeezed shut to look at your face. “Don’t fucking stop, she’s fine, she’s—”

“Yuji.”

“Sweet girl,” he answers, hands moving to cup the sides of your face. “Don’t cry - are you sensitive?” You weakly nod, cunt fluttering as he runs his nose along your cheek. “Do you want me to be softer? Just tell…” Yuji goes slack against you, and your eyes widen, hands moving to push at his shoulders, only for them to tense under your grip as a low laugh leaves him.

“Sukuna,” it comes out in a pitiful whine, and you wince at the slow drag of his cock along your walls as he pulls out, thick shaft sliding up between your folds as he bumps the head against your clit.

“It’s been a while,” his head pulls back, allowing you to see the grin stretched across his face, and you drop your gaze as you keep your mouth, earning another laugh. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared.” His touch is rough as he grips at your sides, nails biting into your skin, and you gasp when he’s suddenly flipping you over, one hand leaving your waist to smack at your ass. “Do it how I like it.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you shuffle so you’re up on your knees, butt lifted into the air while your chest is flush to the floor. Sukuna smacks you again, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, and you can’t help the moan that slips out when he spreads you open, his hips jutting forward so he can rut his cock against your cunt, a jolt racing up your spine when he goes over your clit.

“Ah, poor pussy is sensitive, yeah?” His tone is mocking, but you nod nonetheless. “Hm.” He pops the tip into your hole, fucking it in just a bit before pulling it back out to continue what he was doing. “Guess we’ve gotta pick another hole then, don’t we?”

“Suku—ah!” His hand reaches underneath you to deliver a swift slap to your cunt, fingers catching your clit, and you let out a pitiful little whimper.

“Quiet.” He spreads you open further, and a shaky breath leaves you when a glob of split lands on your puckered hole, his thumb spreading the wetness around before slowly pushing it in. “Only the good little girls get to speak.”

His cockhead replaces his thumb, and your breath comes out in pants as he eases himself in, stretching you impossibly wide as he forces himself to fit.

“I hope you’re watching, brat — no worries if you aren’t, I don’t mind repeating the lesson later.”

#yuji x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #++ yuji/brat

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sailoryooons · 4 months

Text

Bust | KTH | (m)

☾ Pairing: Heistman!Taehyung x f. Reader

☾ Summary: Seeing a beautiful man in the middle of a bank robbery is unusual. Seeing him again afterward is even more unlikely… and yet not unlucky.

☾ Word Count: 2,211

☾ Genre: Criminal, Smut, PWP

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Bank robbery, light depiction of fear/anxiety, mentions of poor financial situations and money-related stress, recreational drinking, ‘good girl’ petname, explicit language, sexually explicit content including oral (f. receiving), biting, spanking, implied body worship kind of, a hint of overstim, bodily fluids and cum-eating.

☾ Published: Monday, January 15, 2024

☾ A/N: This is an idea I randomly spoke about forever ago in a TikTok DM with @gimmethatagustd and this is strictly written to ruin their entire life tonight. I hope it works idk osifodigjoijg.

☾ A/N 2: Tonight is number four for my 100 Drabble Challenge and I rolled number 24 for criminals! I hope you enjoy my depraved thoughts of Taehyung in that GOD DAMN SQUID GAME OUTFIT AT PTD. MY MASK KINK DOESN’T MAKE AN APPEARANCE BUT BE FUCKING SURE IT WILL ONE DAY. HE MADE ME INSANE.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Song Inspiration ☾

Sweat beads down your back, the trickle of it slower than the clock ticking above your head. Time seems to slow as you sit on a carpet that hasn’t been steam cleaned since the 80s and push yourself against the wall, eyes glued to the open vault.

It had happened so fast and yet now, it’s like it can’t be over fast enough. Each second that ticks by feels like it takes a year. You cannot hear the chatter of the men inside the vault, but their harsh whispers raise goosebumps on your skin.

At least they haven’t noticed you. Not that you would do much, anyway. You have no intention of going over to push the alarm by the door, too afraid to alert the armed man who stands just outside the vault room on the other side, and far too underpaid to risk your life for a financial institution.

For a moment, you wish it were you robbing the damned bank. Maybe you could pay off the student loans on your degree you’re not using and run the heating in your apartment during the winter instead of bundling up in several layers.

Your momentary lapse of delusion passes as the men rush out of the vault, duffles in hand. They’re all dressed in red, black masks covering their faces with shapes on them. You’re vaguely aware that the costume belongs to some sort of show you saw online, but you can’t place them.

Perhaps you’ll watch it now.

“Hurry up,” one of the men barks toward the vault. There had been three inside, but only two came out. “Grab the last and let’s go. Two minutes left.”

They’re gone in an instant. Your eyes dart back to the vault where you can hear the last person inside. Glancing at the clock, you watch the seconds tick by.

Ten seconds. Fifteen. Thirty. A minute.

A man dressed in a red suit, hood pulled over his head comes out of the vault. As he slugs it shut with one arm, the bag on his shoulder droops, spilling the contents inside out onto the floor. Bands of cash fall out, thudding around his feet. He swears loudly and bends over, back slipping more to drop cash on the ground.

In his frustration, he crouches and tips the mask up a fraction, shielding his face from the camera above but not from you, huddled on the floor a few feet away.

Your heart skips. The thief is beautiful. Dark eyes focused on his task, a wide nose that fits perfectly on a symmetrical face with high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and a pursed mouth. There’s a flush in his face from the heat, the tip of his nose an endearing shade of rose.

As if sensing your gaze, his head snaps up. You cower against the wall, realizing now that you’ve seen his face, you’ve doomed yourself. He stalls completely, gloved hand hovering over the cash, eyes boring into you. He arches a brow as if to ask you a question and you respond by shaking your head.

The thief gives you a cocky grin, nodding before he finishes picking up the money and tossing it into the bag. He looks at you again, a smirk on full display before he winks and pulls the mask back down. “Good girl,” he purrs. “I like that.”

Despite the situation, your stomach flips. He stands and rushes out, lingering by the door for a second longer to stare at you through the black mask. You can’t see his face, but you know you’ll never forget it, pretty as an angel, dangerous as a devil.

When the group is gone, you wait in silence, only the pumping of your heart to keep you company. When the cops come and ply you with questions all you can do is shake your head repeatedly.

I was too scared. I can’t remember.

It is the same thing you tell investigators for nearly two months. Just when you think they won’t keep asking what the man looked like, they finally drop it, handing over the robbery details to the FBI. They were at least a little less callous, caring a little less about how many questions you answered.

If you had to guess, your unimpressive financial situation even after the robbery was significant enough that you weren’t involved with the robbery.

It’s hard not to wish you had been. The straw in your mouth belongs to a drink that is far too expensive for you to not wince and it barely tastes like anything. At this rate, you know you won’t get a buzz. You’d love alcohol to take the edge off of the loud club music or loosen you up a bit, but you’re resigned to being sober for the rest of your friend's birthday.

Around you is a gaggle of men and women, both people you know and new faces trying to pick up your friends. Anyone trying to hit on you has already decided you’re far too grumpy to waste time on, most of their backs facing you as people shout over the music about working in finance.

You wonder if they also rob banks in their spare time. It makes you grin, thinking fondly about the thief once again. You do that a lot.

Sipping the drink, you glance at your phone. It’s been an hour since you arrived, but you’re wondering if enough time has reasonably passed to excuse yourself. Tomorrow is one of your few days off and you intend to spend it lounging on the couch watching TV instead of nursing a headache.

Someone slides into the space at the bar next to you. You don’t glance up at them, spinning your skinny cocktail straw absently as you stare at the melted ice of your Long Island iced tea. You hoped that once it melted it would turn into a second drink, but it hasn’t. Cold, bitter water it is, then.

“Why the long face?” You frown at the vaguely familiar voice and glance up, freezing.

Mr. Bank Robber looks down at you, cocking his head to the side with a wolfish grin. Your mouth pops open in surprise, leaning back a little as you drink him in. This close, he is far more beautiful than you remember, the edges and shadows of his face like a carefully painted fresco. Michelangelo could hardly be talented enough to capture this.

“You,” you whisper, his grin spreading further.

“Have we met?” he leans on the bar, dressed in all black. You eye the three-piece suit and the glinting diamonds in the cuff links. His clothes are far finer than anything anyone else is wearing and when you breathe in sharply, you smell a hint of woody cologne. His dark hair is slicked back and you catch the dainty hoop earrings in his lobes. You like the juxtaposition.

“You know we have.” He tongues the inside of his cheek, turning his head to order with the bartender. His eyes stray to you, raising a brow. You supply him with your answer, “A long island.”

The bartender nods, momentarily stupefied by the heistman’s beauty before walking over to the POS, tapping the screen with the speed and aggression unique to bartenders.

“Kind of a shitty club,” he mentions, looking around over the top of your head. Sweat clings to your lower back, your mouth growing dry as you watch colors splash on his face. “Your face is too pretty for a place like this.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” The bartender puts the drinks on the counter and the man gives him cash, signaling to keep the change. The bartender raises a brow but says nothing, taking the money as he goes. “What’s your name?”

“You probably already know it.” He cocks his head to the side. “I’m sure you looked me up to see if I was a threat or watched me to see what I’d do.”

“You watch too many heist movies.”

“Maybe I watch just enough.”

He laughs at that and your lips twitch. It’s rich, making his face intimidating as he gives you a wide smile and shakes his head. “Alright, maybe you’re right.”

“Can I know your name?”

“For the right price.”

“My silence was a pretty petty, no?”

He bites his bottom lip, eyes dipping down and back up. You sip your drink, feeling a flush of warmth unfurl in your body, most notably between your legs. “I like you.”

“You have to like me. I know your secret.”

Leaning forward, he ducks down so that he’s murmuring into your ear, hot breath ghosting your skin and making you tremble. “Want to hear more?” Your eyelids flutter as he waits, skin buzzing at his sudden proximity. You nod, feeling lightheaded. “My name is Taehyung. Want to get out of here?”

“Fuck,” Taehyung growls, hands skimming your bare sides. You can’t keep still under his gaze, hips squirming and fingers twisting in the sheets. His mouth is swollen and covered in your spit, his eyes blown as a large hand scrapes down to your thigh where he gives you a good slap. “I knew you were a good girl.”

A moan trips out of your mouth. Your thigh stings where he slapped you but he soothes it with the easy back-and-forth motion of his hand, his fingers digging into your flesh. Taehyung is a man starved, having littered your body with harsh kisses and bites, nearly breaking the skin.

You don’t care. You’re feverish for him, room spinning as you sprawl on his soft sheets in a hotel room that is far nicer than anything you’ve ever been in. You burn up like a star, core raging as Taehyung leans back down, pressing your naked thighs open for him as he sucks the skin of your chest between his teeth.

Everything aches. You want him so bad that you feel a cry come out of your mouth, lips wobbling as he laughs against your skin, sinking lower and lower, mouth loud as he sucks at your skin, tongue brushing over the sting of his teeth.

“Does my good girl need her pussy eaten?” Taehyung rasps, looking up at you where he kneels between your legs. “Is that why you’re crying, hmm?”

Taehyung looks like something out of a thriller. His eyes are dark and hungry, his shadowed face becoming some sort of demon of lust. He’s what you would imagine a dark god. A bacchanal devil, a creature made for sin.

All you can do is nod in response, feeling Taehyung’s vicious grip on your thighs as he presses you further, your muscles stretching. The strain feels good, as does the slow drip of your cunt down the curve of your ass mixed with his breath.

“So messy,” he murmurs, leaning forward and blowing cool air on your sticky folds. You squirm, the sensation sending you into overdrive as you twist your head to the side, eyes squeezed shut. He’s barely done a thing and you’re worked up more than you can ever recall. “Pretty.”

The slow, soft press of Taehyung’s tongue through your pussy makes you sag. It’s the relief that you so desperately needed, eyes rolling back as he circles your clit and drags his tongue back down. Taehyung is slow as he eats you out, tongue savoring every drop you can give him.

He taps your thigh, drawing your attention to him. He smirks as his tongue dips into your entrance, dragging back up to swirl around your throbbing bud a few times.

It’s impossible to tear your eyes away once you’re watching. Taehyung keeps his razor-sharp gaze on you, bringing his mouth fully to your cunt as he sucks eagerly. There is a rhythm to the curl of his tongue and the sharp suck of his lips, the wet smack of his ministrations driving you crazy.

“Mmm,” he hums, pressing his face in further. He’s messy with it, his jaw and nose covered in shiny slick. He laughs throatily when your back comes off the bed, thighs shaking. “Such a good pussy, just like I knew it would be.”

It feels too hot in the room. Your breaths are coming in too fast and there’s nothing you can do to catch it, Taehyung working you up to a frenzied, frenetic orgasm. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, pumping so hard that you think you might need to stop.

And then you break.

Your body seizes as you come, a scream ripping through your mouth as Taehyung slurps hungrily at your mess, spurred by your release. You can’t stop shaking as he dives in, unwilling to stop until you’re babbling, nearly lifeless as the orgasm teeters into overstimulation.

Only then does Taehyung pull his mouth away, trailing wet, cum-spit kisses on your inner thigh, nipping your thigh here and there.

“Think you can take more?” he asks, slurring his words against your thigh. “Think you can take my cock.”

You nod eagerly, hand letting go of the sheets and reaching toward him. “Yes.”

“Mmm good. I’m about to bust.” He bites your knee. “And I don’t mean a bank, this time.”

#taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #v smut #bts v

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letoasai · 11 months

Text

dp x dc Chronos part 2

Part 1 and Part 3

The Justice League sat in the Watchtower, some of them at least. The meeting was meant to be a quick one, only certain members in attendance to make sure they were all on the same page after the debrief of the last mission. Not all of them were necessary and most were usually busy.

Today Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash and Green Lantern were in the middle of wrapping things up when the alert sounded. The siren blared twice before the red lights in the corner of each room flashed in an emergency.

“What in the world…” Flash grumbled but was obviously the first to the controls to look for the problem. None of the main alarms had been triggered, none of the doors messed with. No unusual motion noted in parts of the station that were currently vacant. “Weird.”

“What is it?” Batman was next beside him, arms crossed as he peered at the screen with narrowed eyes.

“It’s the sensors.” Flash said. “We’re picking up some kind of interference.”

“Way up here? What kind?” Green Lantern asked, he’d moved to one of the wide windows of the viewing deck as if he would be able to see something approaching. As things were, there was nothing but the normal vastness of space with Earth to one side.

“No idea.” Flash said. “Never seen something like this before.”

“Any idea on a location?” Superman asked, appearing by Green Lantern’s side.

Flash just clucked his tongue, hitting buttons much faster than a normal person. It was almost an irritation that he had to wait for the computer to keep up with him. “I mean, there’s nothing exactly to track yet.”

“An anomaly then.” Wonder Woman said, leaning back against the conference table they’d all just been sitting around. “Something natural?”

“There’s nothing natural about this.” Batman said, tone skeptical as he gazed at the screens.

“Gonna side with that bat on this one.” Flash said, “It’s more like a warning before anything happens. Something setting off the sensors but nothing else? Feels like it was on purpose.”

Green Lantern rolled his eyes. “What, like something’s knocking before they make themselves known?”

Before anyone could even offer their opinion on what they thought of something so ridiculous, a spark of green ripped through the air like lightning. Just as quickly it spread out into an obvious portal. Every member of the Justice League sprang into position, circling the phenomenon to block it in from every direction. Things like this shouldn’t have been possible, but it wasn’t the first time an intruder had gotten creative to get inside the Watchtower.

Without any fanfare, a man stepped out. They presumed it was a man anyway. He was dressed in mostly shades of purple other than his leather boots and gloves. He was covered by a cloak and hood, but when he looked up, it was hard to say what about him was the most unsettling. The red eyes. The blue skin. The pendulum clock that set back into his chest so far that he could only be missing crucial organs.

“Who are you?” Superman demanded, quickly trying to assess if there would be a fight or not.

“How did you get here?” Batman said right after, gravel tone somehow more frightening because he was calm.

The intruder just gestured with his thumb at the portal behind him. “Thought it was rather obvious.”

“Your purpose?” Wonder Woman asked, looking relaxed but her body was tense and ready to react in a moments notice.

“My purpose?” He chuckled quietly. In his hand was a staff they’d almost missed before, the top of it cradling a clock. It seemed to be a theme given the number of watches and clocks he wore. “I’ve come to call in a favor. The Justice League owes me several.”

“We owe you? Ppfff. Yeah right. We don’t even know who you are.” Flash rolled his eyes.

The intruder turned to the Flash, his brow raised. “Speedster, with the amount of times you’ve dabbled in the time stream, you alone owe me your life a fair few times.”

“Time, huh?” Green Lantern looked him over. There were a lot of clocks... “Guess that’s your schtick.”

He chuckled again. “I go by many names, only one will be relevant to you today.” He turned his attention onto Wonder Woman who squared up under his gaze. If she was going to be his focus then she’d take him head on.

“And?” She arched a brow at him. “What name may we call you?”

He looked amused, red eyes filled with mirth. “You, Diana, may call me grandfather.”

The room stilled, the others looking around in varying degrees of confusion while Wonder Woman just paled.

“Chronos. God of time…” she muttered, making it very clear to the team what they were dealing with. A God.

“I go by master of time these days, but yes. I am that Chronos. I have a task for you, Diana. One i do not think you will turn down but i’ll give you the illusion of choice.” Chronos said, the minute and hour hands on his staff moving strangely.

“You’re a god, and you come to us for help?” Batman asked, unimpressed no matter the glowers he was being sent by the others.

“You are the Justice League, aren’t you?” Chronos looked pleased. “Righting wrongs. Defending Earth. Justice is in the name and everything.”

He didn’t talk like a god. He didn’t even talk as formally as Wonder Woman herself tended to occasionally.

“Doing tasks for you is asking for trouble.” Wonder Woman muttered. She’d heard stories, so many stories.

Chronos shrugged. “Time is messy. Keeping it in line is difficult. Especially when there are those who mess with it who should not.” He was not above verbally throwing speedsters under the bus.

“What do you want?” Green Lantern asked, obviously suspicious but paying very close attention.

“Simple.” Chronos answered, still looking at his granddaughter. “You will take custody of your uncle for a time. He needs a safe place to rest and live.”

The silence that followed was loud, no one knowing what to make of that. Wonder Woman herself looked puzzled.

“Are you claiming a sibling of Zeus needs a babysitter?”

Chronos hummed. “He is my son though he holds no biological relation to your father, i suppose.”

“Then how is he her uncle?” Flash asked, with a hint of sass.

“You can ask Batman how it works.” Chronos mused, saying all he would say on the matter but that was enough.

Wonder Woman couldn’t fathom what kind of person her grandfather would see fit to adopt. “Are you going to tell me more?”

“Telling you more would imply you were agreeing to the task.”

She tsked. “None of your word games. I want to know what i could be walking into.”

Chronos never once looked threatened or put out, he did however, appear to look a few years older than he had when he’d first appeared. “He recently needed to be removed from his home for his safety. He can easily visit me but staying with me long term at this time is not beneficial to him for health reasons.”

Superman frowned. “Removed from his home? How old is he?”

“Sixteen. If that is all you need to know, i will fetch him. It may take some time for him to regain consciousness.” Chronos said.

“He’s been hurt?” Batman was frowning at the thought, looking more and more unhappy as the conversation progressed.

“I did say he was removed from his home.�� Chronos said, almost flippantly as he stepped back into his glowing green portal. It remained open, everyone exchanging looks.

“Diana, is this a good idea?” Superman asked, willing to accept her judgment. Greek gods were more her wheelhouse.

“Chronos was a titan. Is a titan?” She frowned. “His power is immense for a being thought to be killed.”

“Something about him is off.” Batman agreed. “He was not worried at all. That is someone aware they have the upper hand.”

Wonder Woman just nodded her agreement. Chronos was the god of time. There was no telling what he knew. “I’ve never met him before.”

“Hell of a time for family reunions.” Flash snarked, heading back to the controls to see what readings they could get on the floating portal. It was obvious each of them wanted to study it in their own way. Scans and samples were first on their minds but it was clearly some kind of magic they weren’t familiar with.

It was almost a shame there wasn’t a single member from JLD currently in the Watchtower. They might have been able to provide answers.

Before much of anything could be done, Chronos returned, somehow looking several years younger than when he first appeared. In his arms was a lanky teen, cradled carefully as if he were fragile. He was equally a sight that left the League speechless. He wasn’t blue, in fact he looked more or less human other that the freckles that shined.

Superman was the one to immediately note they were constellation patterned.

His hair was a stark white that wisped and flowed as if he were under water. His clothes were strange, a detailed variation of an old hazmat suit, all done in black and white. Floating above his head was a crown that didn’t seem to know if it wanted to be on fire or covered in ice. It bobbed back and forth and even did a slow flip in the air but never left the area about the boy’s head.

When no one uttered a word, Chronos took that as permission to begin the introductions. “Diana, this is your uncle. Danny Phantom. Son of the Stars. The Personification of Balance. The Ghost King. High King of the Infinite Realm.”

“He’s a king?” Batman frowned. “He’s a boy.”

“He could be both, Bats. He’s got a crown.” Flash chuckled softly.

Chronos shared his amusement. “I did say he was only sixteen.” The god paused for a moment as the teen twisted in his arms, his face pressed against Chronos’ shoulder and a hand lightly pressed against the door of the clock embedded into the man’s chest.

The fact that, even asleep, the boy was comfortable in the gods arms didn’t go unnoticed.

“Is he injured?” Wonder Woman asked. They’d gone over this already but he didn’t look actively wounded. He seemed to be sleeping only.

Chronos grunted once. “One form heals faster than the other. He needs rest, ambient ectoplasm which he knows how to get on his own, and food. He can answer your questions if he feels like it.”

“If he feels like it?” Green Lantern frowned.

“He’s the King.” Chronos’ lips twitched in amusement again. “If he decides to tell you more, or seek help, that is his decision.”

“Seek help?” Batman’s eyes were narrowed. “Seek help for what?”

Chronos approached and shifted the teenager into Wonder Woman’s arms. His crown shifted back and forth but never left the teen. The grip he had on the god wasn’t noticed until he tried to pull away and Chronos needed to carefully extract the boy’s hand.

Ignoring Batman, he pressed on. “He’ll need to follow up with his doctor by the end of the week. He’ll know how to do that. If he doesn’t, his doctor will come to him. That should be incentive enough.”

“Does he know you’re dropping him off here?” Superman asked, brows knitted together in concern. The heroes had been expecting a fight, not to be handed a royal teen.

“He has a fondness for for space, so you might want to let him wake up here.” Chronos said instead, ignoring that question too. He was growing older again, a short, white beard starting to form.

“How long will he need to be in my care?” Wonder Woman asked, noting the boy weighed very little in her arms. In sleep his features were soft, hopefully he was as sweet as he looked.

“Good luck.” Chronos said, staff reappearing in his hand now, turning back to the portal without giving her an answer.

“Hey! Wait!” Flash yelled but for once, he was too slow, the god and the portal disappeared.

Five members of the Justice League just stood in a mild stupor, their attention shifting to the sleeping teen.

“Well…” Superman muttered.

Wonder Woman looked at the boy, floating hair and crown moving in tandem. “I’ll set him down. We’ll see if he can answer any of our questions when he wakes up.”

“You gonna call him Uncle Danny?” Flash asked, not bothering to hide his smile.

Wonder Woman just ignored him and turned to stride off towards the med-station. -------------------------

------------------------- No idea at all if i’ll continue this. If anyone else wants too, go for it. ^_^

@markus209

#dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #clockwork #justice league #Looks like Wonder Woman is Danny's guardian now #Danny Phantom #wonder woman

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mvybanks · 1 month

Text

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM

a/n: i finally did it🥳🥳 but daddy i love him by taylor swift was written for him and only him and you can’t change my mind! not my favorite fic of mine but i hope you enjoy!

warnings: not proofread yet!!! all of the lyrics of the song are basically in this fic lmao, lots of hate towards the pogues but nothing major other than that

word count: 3.2k

pairings: jj maybank x kook!reader

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add yourself to my taglist <3

—

Kooks and Pogues.

Always one against the other.

That’s how it’s always been in the Outer Banks. If you’re a Kook, you cannot like a Pogue, and it goes both ways.

It is a rule as old as the island, one that never changed and never will. It would be a scandal if it did, right?

You were never one to have cared about something as stupid and superficial as that. Although considered Kook princess — that was the nickname that everyone had gifted you since birth — you also appreciated the company and friendship of those who should’ve been your greatest enemies.

It didn’t help the fact that you were in love with one of them, either.

JJ Maybank was as local as they came. Never had anything to his name, unless we count the remaining five dollars in his old wallet, and always on the run — from what? Perhaps it is better that we don’t ask him that.

We could put it this way: if you were Kook princess, he could’ve easily been Pogue prince.

It should’ve been unusual for the two of you to have ever even had a conversation, let alone one long enough to have made the both of you fall in love. The thing was that you had no problem in talking with him, and he had no reason, nor enough self control, to not have flirted with you any time he’d had the chance.

All of the time you had been spending with JJ and his friends, getting acquainted with them and sharing those whispered secrets that only those whom you trust the most know about, it had all led you to that moment — lying in your lover’s arms.

Your back rested against his bare chest as your bodies were being soaked by the warm rays of sun and lulled by the gentle movement of the waves that were dancing underneath you. JJ’s arms circled your waist with greed and affection, for he could have never gone a day without feeling your skin beneath his loving touch, and his head was hidden in the crook of your neck — the place where he belonged.

“Wanna stay like this forever,” he mumbled in your skin, tickling it in the process, “Feels like heaven.”

You hummed in content, “Me, too.”

The pair of you had been stuck in your place all morning, just letting the waves and JJ’s surfboard take you wherever they wanted to and hoping it was as far away as possible. You hated that your relationship had to be kept as a dirty secret that no one was supposed to know about, but what were you expected to do but ignore your elders, and most of your peers, and let your heart beat for the only man that owned it. It is impossible to control one’s heart’s reason to beat, and one as big as yours was even more untamed than others.

Sneaking away was fun for sure, but you wished to scream it from the rooftops. JJ was no different from you, and he would’ve made you officially his if it hadn’t been for the judgmental creeps and the fear of your parents taking you away from him.

And so, with the uneasy knowledge of being unaware of the next time that your heart would beat against his, he walked you home that early morning. The sound of the birds chirping was peaceful and rendered the journey more bearable — although it was your smile that had made everything so much more than only bearable to JJ.

You couldn’t have known that someone was watching you as your boyfriend led you to the rich side of the island, that was Figure Eight, waiting, almost wishing, for you to make a mistake.

“I’ll see you tonight, princess?” He whispered on your lips as your bodies were being hidden by the large oak tree just a few blocks before your house.

You grinned up at him and nodded, brushing your mouth against his as you did so. “See you tonight, baby.”

—

You didn’t like lying to your parents. Having to make up excuses whenever you wanted to go out wasn’t fun, but a dutiful daughter, the Kook princess, couldn’t have been seen hanging out with people that belonged to a lower class than her. What your parents didn’t know couldn’t have hurt them.

Therefore, you began getting ready to see your Pogue prince that evening, knowing that your parents believed that you were going to a friend’s house. Just as you were finish buttoning your dress, JJ’s favorite, you heard your father come back home, slamming the front door of your house with anger and impatience. It was unusual, which was why your brows automatically furrowed at the loud sound, that it was then followed by his voice, yelling your name.

You all but ran down the stairs, attempting at understanding the commotion, but it seemed that your mother had already gotten the news that your dad hadn’t told you yet. He looked at you as if you had been his greatest disappointment.

“What’s going on?” You asked, scared of even letting out those words.

Your father stated at you for a second before he finally confessed the reason of his obvious fury. “How could you have done this to me? How could you have done this to your family?” He raised his voice, and you had never felt smaller than you had in that moment.

“I - I don’t understand.”

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was for me, huh? Everyone pitied me! And then, it was Ward Cameron that had to tell me that my daughter was hanging out with some…Pogues.”

Shit.

He knew. They knew everything.

“We raised you better than this!” Your father all but yelled as his forefinger pointed at you, and you were sure he was wishing to have had a knife at the end of it.

Tears began running down your face as you attempted at walking closer to him. “But dad, I love him!”

He scoffed — mocking you and your choice of words. “I don’t care if you think he’s the love of your life, he’s not! He cannot provide for you and he’s not the man that I want my daughter to be seen with.”

You turned to your mother, hoping and praying to find consolation and understanding in her. “Mom, say something, please!”

Shaking her head, she only laid her eyes on you to show you the dissatisfied look in them. “I can’t, honey. Your father is right. That boy is only trouble and you deserve better…more.” Although seeming sad, she rejoiced and a glad appearance casted on her as she continued, “That’s why we’re going out to dinner with the Thornton’s tonight. Their son is a fine man, you’d be a very lucky girl.”

To say the world was crumbling all around you was an understatement.

More.

What was ‘more’? You deserved more than someone who loved you and cared for you as if you hung every star in the universe? You needed more than a man who would’ve laid down his life for you?

At that point, you were unable to control the never ending tears. “You’re serious?! I’m not going out with anyone, you can’t force me!” You raised your voice as well, as you couldn’t believe that they thought it would’ve been possible for your heart to beat for someone else.

Without ever taking another glance at you, “My house, my rules,” your father exclaimed, his words tasting like venom when he announced his last words on the matter, “You’re not to see him ever again. That is final.”

Devastation was all you knew. How could they have taken him away from you? The only good thing in your life, the only person that made you feel like you were real, alive, like you could be whoever you wanted to be, and now, he had been brutally stolen from your fingertips, slipping through them without control.

That was your life after all — a continuous scroll of events that you had no say in nor any control, always under the rules of society and your parents. They had simply made the ultimate decision of stealing your last crumble of freedom.

As much as you wanted to hear JJ’s voice, you couldn’t call him. It would’ve been cruel to the both of you to admit those last words out loud. Instead, you texted him to warn him that your parents knew about the two of you and that you couldn’t go out with him that evening — cowardly avoiding him.

And so, you wore the dress that was supposed to be for him and the natural-looking makeup that you knew he was obsessed with, and let your parents manipulate your life once again.

—

“This is a darling restaurant. Thank you for inviting us tonight.” Mr. Thornton formally announced as you, your parents and the Thornton’s sat down at your reserved table.

Perhaps you were being too dramatic, but you felt like you were sitting down for your last supper — you were being sent to the gallows and your parents had been the culprits.

Topper Thornton relaxed in his seat right next to yours, a smug smile on his face while he listened to the two married couples talk about arguments that were as interesting as the weather. In the meantime, your silence was loud. You were screaming at the bars of the cage you that they had trapped you in, praying for someone to come rescue you and help you escape.

Then, you heard Mr Thornton call your name, which caused you to look at him.

“We’ve heard the stories about those Pogues, you know.” And you didn’t miss the judging stare in his eyes as you attempted at stopping yours from rolling in the back in your head in annoyance. “It’s good that you’ve come to your senses, young lady. We all want what’s best for you.”

It was hard to keep your laughter in almost as much as it was to not show your disapproval. “Right,” you whispered under your breath as you looked over the menu in your hands as if it had been the most beautiful thing in the world, “What’s best for me.”

Your mother hissed your name in order for you to have been the only person to hear her, “Play nice.”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, “It would be a shame to disgrace your good name, and for someone like those low-lifers.” He chuckled at his last words as you wondered how many stabs it would’ve taken your knife to make him shut his mouth.

You landed on three.

And just as you were about to respond with another quick remark, you heard his voice. You swore your eyes were about to pop out of your head and your smile had been impossible to stop when he had said, “Good evening. I’ll be your waiter tonight. Are you ready to order yet?”

The JJ Maybank cocky grin stared at you and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth inside you that only the calming ocean in his eyes was able to provide.

You weren’t sure if anyone at the table knew that he was the one that you had been seen with, but from the way no one batted an eye, you realized that they had no idea — after all, Pogues all looked the same to them, so how could they have known it was that particular one that had stolen your heart? (other than multiple of other things, but that’s another story.)

Once everyone had ordered, JJ left, although he never took his eyes off of you — or maybe what he couldn’t stop staring at was the closeness between you and Topper.

“I will admit that they’re not all bad.” Mrs. Thornton admitted, which gained everyone’s curiosity, “These Pogues, I mean. Some of them try to work their way up. Nonetheless, I don’t think it’s right for them to ruin the reputation of someone who comes from such a good family.”

You couldn’t believe that they were still talking about it — as if it wasn’t a Pogue who was handling their food in that very moment. The twitching of your eye was hopefully undetectable as the conversation went on and on, getting worse by the second.

“They’re known thieves, for sure.”

“Most of them have never attended school, either.”

“They ruin this island’s credibility.”

All of the alcohol that you had ingested that evening hadn’t been enough for you to stop yourself from abruptly getting up from your seat and earning a few looks from the tables around you as the loud sound of your chair on the expensive pavement of the restaurant filled the air.

“What are you doing? Sit down!” Your father whispered sternly, an embarrassed expression on his features while he looked around.

“I - I have to go to the restroom.” Finally you shakily exclaimed before all but running to the nearest bathroom, just dreaming about some fresh air. It felt like torture to stand there and listen to them talk about your friends — your boyfriend, for god’s sake — as if they had been the worst people on the planet.

As you quickly walked to what you hoped to have been a restroom, you felt a hand wrapping around your arm and dragging you through another door, which immediately led you to the back of the restaurant. A tiny scream escaped from your lips in surprise, but it was stopped by the weight of a hand.

“I’m sorry, princess, it’s just me.” JJ chuckled as he closed the door behind you and let you rest your back on it.

“Jay,” you breathed, and it felt like the first time you had been able to do that that evening, “what are you doing?”

Letting his hands dance down your torso until his arms circled your waist, he bent his head down to meet yours. “It’s killing me to see you with him, you know that?” He lowered his voice, which sounded deeper and richer than usual, and it caused butterflies to come alive in your stomach.

You placed your hand on his cheek, rubbing the rough skin with your thumb and pulling him impossibly closer. “My parents are forcing me,” you sighed, “They just keep going on and on about Pogues and I can’t listen to them anymore.” And as you noticed the strange look in his eyes, the obvious hesitation in them, you added, “You know I don’t care about him, right?”

He smiled and gently brushed the tip of his nose against yours as he breathed you in. “I hate this, baby. I wish I could be there with you instead of him.”

“Me, too.”

“And he better keep those hands to himself.”

You chuckled lightly at his words, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Good.”

JJ noticed the tears that started to prick at your eyes immediately and his hands flew to your face, holding the soft skin and forcing you to stare into his honest eyes. “Hey, hey. This doesn’t mean we have to break up, alright? We’ll figure it out, princess, we always do, okay?” You only got to nod once at his words before his lips touched yours, slowly and passionately while his arms held you closely to his body. “I love you.” He mumbled on your mouth.

“I love you, too, Jay.”

—

“What took you so long?” Your mother asked as you came back to the table, your hair now out of place — not that you cared about it anymore.

“Just needed to get some air.” You wore your best fake smile and drank your glass of wine in one sip before pouring yourself another one. “Have we finally changed the subject?”

Your dad reprimanded you by saying your name, a threatening tone hiding behind it.

You shrugged, “What? You can all speak poorly of Pogues as if I weren’t here but I can’t say anything about it? Thought this was a free country.”

Mr. Thornton looked like he was having a stroke and his wife was none the better. “You should be more grateful about what you have, young lady.”

You snorted, more loudly than you wanted to, but you had seemed to have lost all inhibitions. “You know what, Mr. Thornton? I’ve always been grateful. I’ve always been the perfect, dutiful daughter, and my parents still don’t trust me, so what’s the point, right?” You could feel everyone’s eyes on you, and sure that you were causing a scene, you decided to finish off the show. “So what if my boyfriend’s a Pogue? Why should everyone care about that?”

Just like all of the waiters, JJ was watching the scene, and although he loved how you were defending him, he decided it was the right time to rescue you. He all but ran to you, clapping his hands a couple of times to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, folks. Show’s over.” He announced as he approached your table.

“You have to calm down and sit back down.” Your mom told you while placing a hand in front of her face in order to hide her embarrassment.

“And you want to know what’s funny? You’ve been shit talking about my boyfriend all night and he was our waiter all along.” You drunkly laughed while JJ tried to keep you upright.

“Way to keep it a secret, babe.” He whispered, although a mischievous smile adorned his lips.

This time it was your father who got up from his seat, pointing a finger at the man whose arm was the only reason why you were still standing. “You…You’re the Pogue who brainwashed my daughter!”

“He did what?!” You let out another laugh, but the look on your face said everything anyway.

“With all due respect, sir —“

“Stay away from my daughter! And don’t talk to me.” He interrupted JJ, catching him off guard.

“You’re so scared of what this relationship might lead to, but you know what? I’m already having his baby.” You didn’t miss the way everyone stared at you shockingly, and even though you wanted to keep it up, you couldn’t help but retract it immediately, “No, I’m not, but you should see your faces!”

“Now we really should leave.” JJ admitted, grinning at you. He grabbed your glass and took a sip of it, at which you laughed loudly once again.

“Thank you for the lovely evening, Mr. and Mrs. Thornton. You two are unbearable.”

“Yep, lovely evening and everything.” He yelled as you two ran towards the exit.

“Come back here right now!”

Your heart beat rapidly as JJ hopped on his bike and waited for you to do the same, the sound of the vehicle revving making you all the more excited. Your arms held on tighter to him and you swore you could hear his heart beating faster as well.

“You ready, baby?”

“Floor it, Jay.”

And you would’ve paid all of the Kook money in the world to have seen their faces as the Kook princess drove off with the Pogue prince.

taglist:

@notslay-norcleor @poppet05 @solargazes @cindersnightmare @chaostudee @goldenroutledge @harleyharlot @babypoguelife @voguesir @vigilanteshitposting @gemofthenight @magnificantmermaid @f4ll-for-you @marzipaanz @guililove @freyawhitexxx1 @mistalli @shady-the-simp @fangirl-madz @one-sweet-gubler @camelliaflow3r @emery-333 @hallecarey1 @lovelornanonymity @rafetopia @maybankslover @futurecorps3 @bxrbie1 @maybanksbabe @moremaybank @jjsbank444 @vivian-555 @jjfordays @highpope @livsters @starkeylover @peachpitlover @fishingirl12 @congratsloserr @loveu-always @rentaldarling @embersfae @bee6r @savagemickey03 @lunalovegood156 @idli-dosa @riveramour (i haven’t updated the taglist in a long time so if you don’t find yourself in it, please be patient with me, i will update it as soon as possible)

#jj maybank #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x taylor swift #jj maybank brainrot #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x y/n #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks #obx

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kachowder · 1 year

Text

Yandere Jock x Reader

You did not want to be here.

The seats were cold. Your butt hurt. It was loud. And the smell of sweaty feet and gym shorts was nothing short of a headache this early in the morning.

You knew you were being dramatic. Nobody liked gym class. Well. Nobody except maybe Loren. The campus “wonder boy”.

You guess you understood the hype. I mean the guy was a star player for your colleges team. Not to mention, insanely athletic, and good at about, well, just about anything. Except for y’know. His studies.

Which y’know gotta have that little cliche in their right? Who doesn’t love a big dumb jock huh?

And of course he was otherworldly pretty. Because obviously.

Okay maybe you were being a little hard on the guy. You didn’t hate him. Hell you hadn’t even talked to him!

A small part of you was willing to admit it might’ve been a slight case of jealousy

But only slight! The guy had everything practically handed to him and here you were busting your ass!

It sucked yknow? I mean what’s someone gotta do around here to get a helping hand-

“Hey! Watch out!-“

Suddenly the sound of rubber against skin boomed in your ears. A sudden shadow blocked your sight, and it took a moment for the sound of your own heart beat to settle, for you to realize what had just happened.

“Hey, you okay?”

The shadow moved, revealing a large hand, firmly grasping a stray volleyball. A volleyball that would’ve smacked you straight in the face because you were too busy monologuing to-

“Hello?”

Oh right

You hesitantly moved your eyes upwards, and nearly groaned out loud.

Wonder boy. Of course.

Time to embarrass yourself with your poor social skills!

“Oh shoot, hey, sorry-uhm..thanks for totally saving me back there! I mean, saving might be a stretch cuz the worse that could’ve happened might’ve been a bruise or on the very slim chance a concussion- but still I appreciate-“

“Pfft..”

Mother fucker did not just

Loren must’ve noticed your sudden change in mood, because he quickly coughed into his empty fist with a shy smile. His brown eyes were twinkling obnoxiously in your opinion, from the reflection of the faux lights.

“Sorry- sorry…I just uh…you’re kinda dorky”

This bitch.

A scowl quickly took residence on your face, a snarl being on the verge of pouring out.

“Right. Well I said thanks so, I think I’ll be on my way now. Thank you, again for the save. Or whatever.” The last part came out as more of a grumble than anything, and yeah you might’ve been a little petty for it, but come on who says that to someone you just met??

As if realizing his mistake, Loren’s grin fell agape, and with slow reaction time, unusual for someone like him, he moved to follow after you towards the door way.

“Hey wait no! I meant it in-“

The door closed with a thunderous slam.

“-a cute..way.”

“……”

A hand perched itself on Lorens broad shoulder.

“Hey man! Who you talkin to?”

A fellow player chirped at the brunette, who’s lips had settled into a troubled frown before he snapped his eyes towards the other player.

He didn’t know his name.

There was a brief moment where the player swore he was being glared at by the Star member, but it was gone so fast he figured it to be a trick of the artificial light.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s get back to the group yeah?”

—————————————-

God what a long day

Loren sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that hour, sweat pouring from his brow as he roamed the mostly barren halls.

It was fairly late in the evening.

There was the occasional straggler, most of who greeted him enthusiastically.

“Hey Loren! Can’t wait for the game this week!”

“Loren! You goin to the BMZ’s party tomorrow?”

He responded the way he normally would. Smiles, “hell yeahs”, and high fives. Though at this point he was just going through the motion. He didn’t really feel the need to show up to the parties. But he decided he’d wait to see how he felt by tomorrow.

Right now, he just wanted to get home and relax.

“Stupid- fucking professor! Couldnt wait till I- goddammit!”

Maybe home could wait a while longer

Loren peeked around the corner, and swore he almost did a backflip at the sight of you slouched against an empty classroom door.

Perfect.

“Hey!”

The moment your eyes drifted to his he swore he almost forgot how to breathe. You were way too cute.

But the frown on your kissable lips was disheartening to say the least.

“What do you want?”

Okay that hurt a little, but he kept his easy going grin as he strode to stand above you,

a visual he found…almost unnatural really.

It felt weird. Wrong, to be standing above you like that. But he disregarded the feeling for now. No matter how strong the desire to drop to his knees was.

“Need a hand?”

He heard you scoff

“Right..the professors gone so unless you have a key to the city than-“

Click!

He wanted to laugh at the stunned look on your pretty face. But that didn’t go well last time so he settled for a smile.

“…Ta-da!”

You looked less amused than he had hoped, with the way your head whipped back and forth before you carefully stepped in.

“Why the hell do you have a key that opens this classroom?”

“When you’re the “School Pride” you get a few extra privileges sometimes.”

You mumbled something at that, but he was unfortunately stood too far away to hear what you said clearly. He figured it was a jab at him. Not that he minded.

With quick, but still obviously cautious steps, you peddled on over to one of the front desks, where a lonely bag sat.

Quickly and nimbly you scooped it over your shoulder and made your way back to the brunette, who stood guard at the doors entrance. Almost dutifully.

Loren had to beg the universe that you didn’t hear his thundering heart and stuttering breath when you stopped directly infront of him.

Fuck you were so fucken cute up close what the fuck

“Thanks.”

“Huh?- Oh! Yeah of course anythingforyou”

“What?”

“……”

You eyed him suspiciously for a moment, before seeming to sigh in resignation.

Moving out from the doorway, and away from him, you paused outside where you had previously had your little breakdown.

“Anyway. Thanks again. For the double save and stuff.” You almost looked pained saying that if he was being honest. But he’s take what he could get for now. “See you around. Or something.”

Wait what?

You were leaving again? Already? He barely even had time to stare at you!

I mean. Talk to you. And make up for embarrassing you earlier!

“Wait!”

You paused, almost irritatedly but seemed to ultimately decide to be civil and hear him out. Probably because you liked him now.

(No you were just tired.)

“How about you come to my game this week yeah? It’s on Thursday.”

“Why?”

“Because i want you to. And I wanna make up for this morning.”

Loren watched anxiously as you seemed to weigh your options.

“Please?”

Again, you sighed, before turning around and beginning to stalk off down the hall.

“I’ll think about it. I guess I owe you anyway.”

Nowaynowaynoway

Loren waited for you to turn the corner

“YES!”

He jumped up excitedly, “yes yes yes! Hell yeah!” clenching his fist with a enthusiastic grin, eyes practically shooting beams of excitement with how bright they were.

This was it. This was the beginning.

Fuck yeah! He was so pumped now!

You could consider this Thursday’s win dedicated to you.

———————-///—————

A/N: this ask/story was so fun to read and write about! I love getting asks so don’t worry about sending too many btw <3 thank you so much! Perhaps we’ll see more of Loren in the future? Hope you like my take <3

#yandere #x oc #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere jock #Loren Oc

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vhsgoghs · 2 months

Text

lost you (Simon Riley one shot)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x female reader

Summary: Simon was injured during a mission and confesses to his girlfriend what he has been thinking. word count: 990 note: English isn't my first language but i have done my best, sorry for any mistakes.

★ masterlist here ★ spanish ver on wattpad (vhsgoghs)

She knew it would happen one day, but there was a part of her that thought it was really just her paranoia.

When someone interrupted her at the shooting range, it didn't seem unusual to her. She knew something was wrong when the other girl's face reflected total concern, but mostly nerves, she lowered her weapon when she felt tension in her muscles and looked at the girl in confusion.

The words that came out of her mouth managed to break her completely: Simon had been hurt.

She felt her ears close to any other words and barely heard clearly the last thing the girl had said to her.

She ran through the hallways without caring that her vision was blurry, she swore she had bumped into someone, but she didn't pay attention. Her mind had been blocked, no words coming out of her mouth when she reached the infirmary, but since it was a small base, everyone knew each other and the nurse knew perfectly well the reason for her presence.

"He's fine." The nurse spoke in a soft voice in an attempt to calm her down, but (Y/N)'s hands were still shaking.

"Where?"

"Come on, I'll take you to him."

She nodded and let the nurse guide her to one of the rooms in the infirmary. She tried mentally prepare herself to see Simon hurt, regardless of whether it was a small wound or something more, however, that attempt was useless.

When the nurse opened the door for her, she felt her world collapse for the second time.

Simon was there, on the stretcher with his shoulder and part of his chest bandaged. He seemed sleepy or maybe he was already asleep, but her mind was not concentrating enough at that time, the nurse didn't say anything, she knew that she was a nuisance there, so she withdrew slowly to leave them alone.

When (Y/N) approached him, she knew he wasn't asleep because of the slight way he moved, she sighed with a mixture of relief, but still felt the heaviness in her chest.

"Someone told me that you put yourself in the middle of a bullet" she murmured as Simon half-opened his eyes. He wanted to smile, but he still didn't feel strength in his body. "You're an Idiot." And although he didn't have enough strength, he let out a giggle that made her heart feel warm.

For a second, she thought she would never hear those little laughs he used to let out every time they talked.

"I'm sorry." he murmured. He closed his eyes again; he felt that he had put in too much effort in the last few minutes and the medications really weren't that strong.

(Y/N) sighed and took a seat next to him. Her hands slid gently down his torso until they reached one of his hands, she squeezed it tightly in hers and tried her best not to cry.

He was fine, he was there. The man she loved the most and had been her boyfriend for years was fine. She always knew that he could get hurt at any moment, it could happen to her too and it was something they both had to deal with every day.

"You look terrible," she joked, causing a muffled laugh to leave Simon's lips once again.

"It's what you want to hear from your girlfriend after getting shot."

She smiled slightly and knew she had done a good job of trying to cheer him up a little, even in her worst moments, it was something they always did.

She sighed and brought his hand to her lips, brushing his warm skin. Simon was warm even in that state, (Y/N) hated silence, yet her mind was blank, what could they talk about? She didn't want to make him feel bad by talking about how much she worried about his condition, she knew that would make him feel worse.

Then, something came to her mind… Happy memories. Simon had always told her that if something like this happened, he wanted to hear her talk about happy memories, she ran her fingers gently through his hair and sighed.

"Do you remember our first date?" she murmured and it only took a few seconds for Simon to nod. "When I said yes, you turned to leave and fell on the floor."

They both laughed. Simon's laugh had been so slow and muffled that she couldn't feel bad, she hated seeing him that way, the thought that her boyfriend could end up hurt had always been there, she never thought it could come true.

"I was happy." He smiled. (Y/N) nodded, it had been an exceptional moment and every time she had the chance, she mentions it.

She remained silent, she couldn't stop thinking about the pain he must be feeling at that moment, she wanted to continue talking about their dates, about what they had experienced, but she felt a knot in her throat. Her boyfriend's body had relaxed and she assumed the medications had finally taken effect.

"I'm so sorry."

Simon opened his eyes again, he was dazed, but her presence made him feel comforted, her hands around his were enough to know he would be okay.

Why did she keep apologizing if she hadn't done anything?

"Hey, come here." He shifted gently, trying to ignore the pain of his wound, making enough room for both of them.

She shook her head and let go of his hand. She knew him too well to know that he was just trying not to think about the pain, she didn't want to hurt him even more.

"I'm going to hurt you and…" Simon cut her off.

"I'll be fine, this arm it's okay."

(Y/N) thought about it for several seconds. She knew that at any moment the nurse would return and she would have to go back to the barracks because, no matter how much she was willing to beg, they wouldn't allow her to be there and they wouldn't allow Simon to return to his room either.

After letting out a sigh, she gently slid to his side, her movements were slow, so much so that Simon couldn't help but giggle due to the delicacy of her movements with the intention of not hurting him.

She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed, he wrapped his arm around her, trying to hug her against his bare torso as much as possible.

"I'm okay." He tried to reassure her, but he knew that no matter how many times he repeated those words, she would still be worried.

"Have I ever told you how important you are to me?"

Simon nodded and smiled. (Y/N) was someone who always made an effort to talk about her emotions, and it wasn't at all unusual for her to mention to her boyfriend what a big role he played in her life.

"I know." He murmured and leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. "You are to me too."

They were both silent, but even with the medications, Simon's mind couldn't stop working. There was something that had been going through his head for the last few weeks, he had everything planned, but he still had that insecurity inside him.

The insecurity of her saying no.

"Have you ever thought about… marriage?" he asked quietly. If she said no, he could blame the medications later.

That shot had been enough to make him think about that kind of thing, it was stupid, teenage Simon would never have thought about marriage in his life.

"Maybe" she murmured nervously. Her hands had trembled slightly and her body tensed, something that did not go unnoticed by Simon. "And you?"

"Maybe…" He answered in the same way. Simon always did that after asked a question: he would answer exactly the same thing as her.

She giggled and closed her eyes for a few seconds. She was nervous, she didn't know how to answer that question because yes, she had once thought about marriage and felt it was a stupid thing to think about when there were so many more problems she needed to focus on first.

But she had talked about it with those close to her more than once and when everyone mentioned that marriage was eventually a step she should take, she had started to think about it.

On the other hand, there was Simon's mentality. Too many things had happened in his life, most of them not very positive, he had felt lost for more than half his life and for the first time he felt like he had something good, something he didn't want to let go of and was willing to go through all the stages of it.

Of course, the beautiful ones.

However, it seemed disrespectful to ask those kinds of questions if he didn't even know her point of view, he wasn't going to come with a ring and put pressure on her just to forced her to say yes.

"Honestly, yes," she murmured after a while. She almost felt her stomach in her throat, she had always been honest with her feelings, but this was something different, this was a really serious conversation. "It's stupid, but yeah… Marriage sounds good with you."

Simon closed his eyes for a few seconds, he did his best not to smile. He had wanted to hear those words for several months.

"Do you know what I'll do when I get out of here?"

"Go to training?" she joking, causing him to smile.

"No, I will find a way to make you my wife." He whispered, sending shivers down her body.

(Y/N) closed her eyes for a few seconds. She loved the feeling of having him close, especially after feeling like her world had completely collapsed when she received that news.

She couldn't stop her mind from wandering, starting to think about the thousands of scenarios in which she could receive that question, thinking about the day she was going to wake up and everything around her changing. She couldn't wait.

Her bubble burst when the nurse entered the room. (Y/N) sighed and tried her hardest not to roll her eyes, she knew it was time to leave, but she didn't want to leave him there, she couldn't.

"Lieutenant, you have to go."

She lifted her face only to meet Simon's. He quickly noticed the disappointment on her face and couldn't help but feel guilty.

"I'll be back tomorrow," she murmured and Simon could only nod.

She leaned down to press her lips against his for short seconds. Finally, she separated from him and walked away slowly, she could feel the nurse's intense gaze even as she passed by her, but even that wasn't enough to stop a smile from forming on her face.

Now she was an engaged woman… Well, almost.

367 notes · View notes

creamhoodie · 4 months

Text

Hot Kettle

synopsis: "Reader is a new teacher at Jujutsu High school. She and Gojo have mutual feelings for each other but she at first thinks he is a player and avoids him. After being snowed in and spending time with each other, they learn more about each other.

A/N:Not sure how I feel about this but I've been working on it for weeks and have writer's block when trying to write anything else.

tags/warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, fluff, afab reader. Switching perspectives between Gojo & Reader. Flashback scenes written in italics. Other jjk characters mentioned.

word count: 8.2K

Snow flurries fell on the campus of Tokyo Jujutsu High and the ground had frozen into crystals.

You had only been working as a professor here for four months and it was your first winter here.

Principal Yaga had sent out an email saying that classes were canceled. Of course the students rejoiced, but for faculty members snow days meant faculty meetings.

You made your way to the designated meeting spot now, your snow boots clicking along the ice as you made your way into the building.

Upon arrival, you found the room empty. Strange. Surely this had been the designated meeting room as stated in Principle Yaga’s email.

Perhaps you were early? You had a tendency to arrive notoriously early for meetings and events. No matter, it gave you enough time to pop into the lounge room and heat up your ramen as a substitute for the breakfast you had skipped in order to arrive on time.

You made your way into the lounge room that was only two doors over. It was also empty, but that was expected given the ghostlike fashion of the building besides your presence. You placed your tote bag down on the table and took out your heatable ramen. Fortunately you had packed a plastic fork.

That meant the only thing you needed was water. The kettle was out already, strange but there was nothing suspicious about this given that and the toaster were often left out after use and not put away into their assigned cabinets.

You went to grab it and as you did let out a blood curdling shriek as the white hot pain in your palm and fingers signified it had recently been used.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh my god we’re sorry Professor!”

“What do you mean we? I told you to put it away!”

As your eyes opened, having winced them from the pain, your eyes focused to find three of the students: Megumi fushiguro, Yuiji Itadori, and Nobara Kugisaki.

They were all staring at you with concern and from the mugs they were holding in their hands and their words you pieced together that they were the culprits.

You didn’t have a chance to respond however as footsteps came running over and to add more insult to injury, your fellow faculty members were peering in: Principale Yaga, Mei-Mei, Kento Nanami, and of course dreadfully… Satoru Gojo.

You felt his eyes watching you underneath his blind fold.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice sounded unusually harsh.

“We wanted to make hot chocolate and we were in a rush because afterwards we were gonna have a snowball fight using our techniques. I guess we didn’t put the kettle away properly and the Professor here got burnt,” Yuji explained for the group.

His explanation did nothing to dissuade Gojo however.

“And how many times have we told everyone to put the kettle away properly so that this doesn’t happen?”

By this point, all eyes were on Gojo. He was sounding so stern and angry, nothing like himself. He was usually the most carefree of the adults.

“Gojo, it’s okay. They didn’t mean to, I should have been more careful,” you said.

“No it’s not okay,” Gojo said, going up to you now, his thumb wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had been shed from the pain.

Now your face was flushing and you were glad that the onlookers would just take it as embarrassment from the situation not knowing that there was more at play here, that there was history between you and the blind folded man which added to your embarrassment.

“That’s enough. Gojo, would you escort her to Shoko please? She should still be in her office since she hadn’t met with us yet for the meeting,” Principal Yaga said.

“Can Nanami escort me instead please?” you asked.

You didn’t want to be alone with Gojo, it would only make things more awkward, no right now you needed to be with anyone but him.

“That’s fine with me, I’ll go with you,” Nanami said, ever the gentleman.

You gave an apologetic smile to the students as you followed Nanami.

“Oh and Nanami? Relay to Shoko that the meeting is canceled. I’m sure given the morning’s events and the weather that’s the last night anyone wants to do,” Principal Yaga said.

You felt several eyes watching you as you followed your tan suited escort, but only one pair of those eyes mattered, pairs that you had actively been trying to avoid.

The thing you enjoyed about Kento Nanami was that he didn’t pry, meaning he wasn’t one to ask invasive questions.

While others may have asked about Gojo and why he had reacted the way he had, Nanami had only assured you he’d get you there safely and that Shoko has healed far worse.

He had a calm presence and demeanor, the type that set you completely at ease. That is why though you had only been here a short while he was your favorite coworker.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your morning,” you felt the need to apologize to him all the same.

“It’s no matter. I’m sure you didn’t want to be burnt this morning, but life is full of things we can’t anticipate,” he replied kindly.

You followed him to a part of the school you hadn’t been before. Luckily you've had the fortune of not having to visit Shoko for healing purposes until now. In a way it was embarrassing as you were sure Nanami had been here for much for dire wounds, battle wounds really from his missions since he was a grade 1 sorcerer. But Nanami didn’t judge, he wasn’t the type to goad or say hurtful things.

After what felt like forever due to the burning sensation in your hand, you two at last arrived in a wing of the school that seemed more like a hospital with its medical items laid out and its fluorescent light. A figure with long brown hair was slumped in a swivel chair in front of a computer.

“Shoko?” Nanami asked, shaking her shoulder slightly so she’d wake up.

Her eyes fluttered open and as if she could sense it she seemed to know there was a problem.

“What is it? Who needs to be healed?” She asked, but she answered her question upon looking at your tear stained face.

She stood up and took your hand. Her gaze shifted between you and Nanami, clearly questioning.

“The kids left the hot kettle out and she got burnt,” he explained.

“Ahh,” she said in understanding.

Your face flushed even more. It was so embarrassing. But Shoko was focused on healing you now and her mind had gone into the place only she and few others knew.

You watched as she worked her magic. You had heard others speak about it in awe but having never witnessed it yourself, it was amazing to see. Your palm and fingers once jaded red were now returned to their baby soft pink, they seemed even more soft than before as if you had just been reborn. Most importantly, there was no pain. Matter of fact if it wasn’t for your current location and Nanami at your side, you would have almost thought you dreamt the whole thing.

“Better?” Shoko asked, her eyes were dim and jaded and you remembered thinking how she always looked sad.

It had always been strange to you how someone with an ability capable of performing miracles could be so sad but you chalked it up to the fact that healing wounds lost its charm when it was those close to you on the brink of life and death.

“Thank you,” you said as she slumped back into her previous position.

Nanami filled her in on the meeting’s cancellation as she took out a cigarette and lit it.

The first time you had met Satoru Gojo was in one of the faculty meetings that he had hosted at his place. It was your first faculty meeting in fact, and it had been hosted on your third week at the job.

By then you had met all the others, besides him.

You had been filled in on the details about him from students to faculty alike and had gathered a mosaic of him from their words: the strongest, childish, intelligent,

Those were all adjectives that had been used to describe him.

However, nothing had prepared you for when he had asked for you to stay behind once the meeting had been dismissed and everyone else had left.

“You’re new. We haven’t been properly introduced,” he said to you then outstretched his big hand for you to shake.

“I don’t really think you need an introduction. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you said, noticing how he still held your hand in his own despite the shake being far from over.

“And what is it you’ve heard?” He asked in a teasing fashion, his lips curled up at the ends.

“Only that you're the strongest sorcerer, Nanami said you’re childish, the students like you a lot,” you paused.

“What is it?” He probed.

“I’ve been told you have these eyes that are so vividly blue,” you said, not being able to hide your curiosity.

He chuckled in understanding.

“You want to see them? You can take my blindfold off,” he said.

At last he released your hand so you were able to do so. You had to stand on your tippy toes and he had bent down to help you as you flipped up the blindfold so it was resting on his forehead.

You had gasped at the mesmerizing blue that was like no other.

“Like them?” he teased.

His words had sent a jolt of heat in somewhere you were sure was not appropriate.

“They are beautiful,” you had found yourself whispering.

After that encounter, you and Gojo had experienced various flirtatious exchanges. The two of you had only gotten physical once and it had been unexpected.

You had been cleaning up your classroom, the students having long been dismissed when he had come in.

“Still here?” He teased.

“I’m not in a big hurry to go home,” you said offhandedly ignoring how his presence next to you, heat radiating off his body was making you nervous. You finished wiping off the chalk board and looked up at him.

“Lonely at home?” he continued to tease.

“No,” you said a little too defensively before adding, “I just like being here. You may have been here for a while but I’m still trying to get established.”

It was true, you had shared it with him in one of your lounge room talks where he had asked you about your background. You were a foreigner that had cursed energy and had taught at a non sorcery university in your home country. Having heard of Jujutsu High and being introduced to Principal Yaga through a mutual connection, the principal had then invited you to come teach at Jujutsu High.

“That’s right, I’m sorry,” he said, tugging at a strand of your hair.

“Why are you still here anyways?” you asked, turning the question back on him.

“Because I knew you’d be here,” he answered honestly.

“Me?” you asked dumbfounded.

He chuckled, stepping forward.

“How long are we gonna do this dance, princess?” he asked, calling you the nickname he had coined for you.

“What dance?” you asked.

But you knew, of course you knew. All those flirty exchanges, light touches, teasing, and lounge room talks weren’t for anything.

“That we don’t want each other,” he said simply.

“And who says I want you?” you asked defensive again. Okay maybe you did want him, but he didn’t have to be so arrogant about it.

“Hmm. Well what was it you said about my eyes again? ‘They are so beautiful.’ “

You flushed in anger and embarrassment now and tried to push past him, but he held onto you effortlessly by your shoulders. You were pinned against the chalkboard.

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours and your body instantly relaxed, you felt him smile at that.

He was right of course, even if he had gone about it in the way he had, there was no denying the sexual tension and chemistry between the two of you.

Giving yourself over to it now, you moaned as his lips moved to your neck, teething slightly at the skin.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he groaned into your skin.

Your hands went to his hair, fisting the soft white locks.

Nothing else seemed to exist besides you and him.

“Gojo,” you whined wrapping your legs around his waist and he seemed to know exactly what you needed as he hoisted you up easily and placed you on your desk, notebooks clattering on the floor.

“Fuck,” he cursed as your long skirt spilled around your thighs revealing your silky skin and damp underwear.

You bit your lip as his fingers found your clit. You felt like you were in heaven and his name had spilled from your lips over and over again like a prayer.

Satoru Gojo…

Of course you had wanted him who wouldn’t? He was impossibly handsome, he had truly won the genetic lottery in more ways than one, and he was so gifted with his fingers that were making you reach new heights even you hadn’t taken yourself to.

That line of thinking created a problem brewing in your mind: Everyone wanted him.

So what made you different? You were the new girl on the block, and you didn’t know him all that well despite your talks with him. You didn’t know him all that long. Maybe you had been overthinking, but it was that thinking that had taken you out of the mood.

“Gojo stop,” you choked out.

His movements stilled, hearing the tone in your voice.

“Is something wrong?” He asked.

You couldn’t exactly tell him your worries as you didn’t want to make things awkward. Besides what were you supposed to say? ‘I’m worried I’m just another one of your quick hook ups?’ You didn’t want to be clingy or weird especially if he just saw this as a casual encounter.

“No, no, everything is fine. I just should be going now it’s getting late,” you rambled straightening yourself up and standing up from the desk.

You had been grateful you hadn’t seen his eyes as you were sure they were confused.

“Well can I walk you to your car?” he offered.

“No, that’s not necessary but thank you for your concern,” you had stated.

Then you had rushed off.

Your relationship with Gojo has been rocky ever since. You actively avoided him and he started doing the same. In a way you wondered if you had bruised his ego since he had never been used to rejection.

Having assured Nanami you would be fine, you had driven yourself home. There was no reason for you to stay on campus given the meeting’s cancellation and the snow day. Moreover, you weren’t up to sticking around because of the morning’s embarrassing events.

You made your way into your small apartment, and kicked your shoes off.’

When you were about to settle down on your couch and watch some television, the doorbell rang. Perhaps it was Nanami doing a possible checkup on Principal Yaga’s orders?

You opened the door and found the person you were actively avoiding: Satoru Gojo.

“You forgot this,” he said, holding up your tote bag that you had left behind in the lounge room.

“Oh, thank you,” you replied, still stunned. You stood there frozen for too long until he cleared his throat.

“It’s kind of cold out here, you know snow day and all,” he said, shivering with emphasis.

Even though it was the last thing you wanted to do, you invited him in.

“Make yourself comfortable. Do you want anything?” you asked, closing the door behind him and watching as he looked around your living room.

“No, I’m good. I can make you those noodles you wanted earlier though,” he offered.

The noodles? Oh yes, the ramen pack. You had forgotten about them. It was endearing in a way that he had even remembered them.

Before you could answer, he was picking the plastic bowl out of your purse and heading towards the kitchen.

“That’s not really necessary..” you began to protest as you followed him but he cut you off.

“Have you eaten today?”

Your stomach betrayed you, giving a rumble by way of answer.

He chuckled before saying, “thought so.” You watched as he filled one of the pots with water before placing it on your stove and turning it on. The kettle would have been much more straightforward but given the morning’s events you figured he didn’t want to use it. Once the water heated up enough, it didn’t take too long on account of you having a gas stove, he transferred the dry noodles from their plastic bowl container to the pot.

Watching him in this domestic setting did something to you. Though you couldn’t see his eyes, his face was calm and focused.

“Watching me?” he teased.

Your face blushed scarlet.

“You know it’s not really fair that you wear that blindfold around,” you said. After all, it gave him the advantage of being able to catch you gawking at him. You suspected this wasn’t the first time he had noticed.

“Would you like me to take it off?” He asked innocently.

Remembering your only other exchange with him that involved his unsheathed eyes, you opted against shaking your head then adding a firm “no” in case his eyes weren’t on you for once.

All the same, you continued to stand there leaning alongside the counter watching him as he had now taken to stirring the boiling noodles with a fork. After a few minutes of this, he transferred the now ready noodles into one of your bowls.

“Do you prefer your noodles with broth or drained?” He asked.

“Drained,” you replied,

“Me too. I find that too much liquid laps up the flavor,” he said, going to drain it now in your sink. He then added the flavor, stirring it. When it was at last ready, he set it on your kitchen island, beckoning you to come sit.

Hunger winning out, you did as he had instructed, not even bothering to care that he sat in the seat next to you.

The noodles were good and just warm enough for you to enjoy and satisfy your hunger. You eagerly stuffed your face forgetting for a moment the man at your side.

It was only when you finished eating that he at last spoke up.

“I wanna talk to you about what happened between us,” he said.

Of course you had expected this, but it didn’t make it anymore easy to breach this topic.

“What is there to talk about?” you asked, deciding to play dumb.

“The kiss we shared,” he said, turning his body towards you.

He knew damn well it had been more than a simple kiss. If you hadn’t put the brakes on when you had maybe the two of you would have gone all the way in the classroom!

“I don’t see why we have to discuss it. We kissed, so what? We can move on from it,” you said.

“But that’s the thing. I can’t move on. I think about it all the time,” he said. There was a unique yearning in his voice, a tone you had never heard from before. At last you turned to face him as well and though his eyes were still hidden there was an expression of sadness on his face.

“Well I’m sure you kiss people all the time,” you said. In an effort to put some space between the two of you, you stood up and walked away from the kitchen back into the living room, hoping he’d follow so you could direct him to the door.

“That’s it then? You think I just kiss anyone?” he asked, following you as you had anticipated. His long legs allowed him to catch up to you quickly and he caught your wrist, swiveling you around to face him. “Don’t ignore me. You feel something for me too, I know it.”

His proximity to you had your breath hitching, it had been a while since you had been this close.

“Gojo-“ you began to protest.

“Satoru,” he corrected, wanting things to be less formal.

“Maybe you should get going,” you said but your voice wasn’t as convincing as you’d hoped.

“You’d really throw me out in the snow like that?” he teased.

“You’d be fine,” you retorted.

By now your resistance was waning, despite your better judgment, the scent of his cologne and the feel of his warm body was threatening your resolve.

He seemed to know that all too well.

“Let me kiss you again. I’ve missed your lips,” he whispered.

Your knees buckled a little.

He bent down, lips brushing against your jawline, the scent of him intoxicating.

It was futile, you wanted him desperately and he knew that. So when you didn’t push him away his lips lingered merely inches from yours, his minty breath in your face, leaving the option to you.

Giving into your urges, you had only to bend forward, and once you did his lips were on yours. Like before, the passion between the two of you was intense, even more so given the built up frustration from how you had avoided him then.

His tongue soon found yours and your legs hoisted yourself around his waist.

“Satoru.. bedroom,” you whimpered.

He understood, still holding you as you guided him to your bedroom.

You didn’t have time to feel embarrassed about the plushies you had on your bed despite being a grown woman, as he plopped you down alongside them.

“Lay back,” he commanded.

You did, but watched as he got on his knees in front of you.

“Satoru, what are you doing?” you asked, still breathless from the kisses you had exchanged.

He took his time answering you, a sly grin on his face as his hand caressed your pantyhose clothed thighs that were exposed as your skirt fell in ripples around your waist.

“I’m gonna make you feel good. The way I wanted to before you left that day,” he said. His hands went up to the top of your waist band, pulling your pantyhose down effortlessly. He gasped at his newfound discovery. “No panties? You really are so shameless.”

Your face was red.

“I- there was a line with my skirt and the tights are thick,” you stammered, feeling the need to defend your choice of wear.

“I like it. How often do you go commando under these long skirts of yours?” he probed, fully removing your tights and leaving your legs and sex naked underneath the layers of your skirt.

“Only when I wear the tights underneath,” you replied.

His hand cupped your heated sex, your arousal leaking into the palm of his hand.

“That’s right you did have some panties on in the classroom that day,” he said recalling. His fingers parted your wet folds. “You think one of these days you could just go completely commando for me? Nothing underneath? Not even your pretty little tights?”

By this point you kept feeling pangs of pain and your clit throbbing, there was no denying the effect he had on you.

“Somehow I don’t think that would be appropriate for the classroom,” you stated.

This only seemed to encourage him more.

“It’d be fun though. Just think about it,” his hand released your sex. He seemed to have something devious in mind. He came closer to you whispering in your ear. “You and me. The fun we could have. The quickies we could partake in between classes.”

You’d be lying if you said his words weren’t appealing to you and vivid images of you hoisted against a desk and him shooting his load into you were intruding your mind.

“Satoru…” your voice had an edge to it. One that still remembered why you had put the brakes in between the two of you in the first place.

He seemed to understand.

“Oh that’s right. You think I do this with just anyone. That I’m something of a player huh?” He asked, and you were surprised to hear offense in his voice.

“I just don’t know you all that well yet,” you stammered apologetically.

You felt that it was an almost stupid thing to say given the state the two of you were in.

“Do you want to know me?” He asked.

“Yes,” you replied.

“Good, because I want to know you too,” he said. He sunk back down to his previous position between your legs. He pulled his blindfold down, letting it rest at his neck so his crystal-like eyes were visible. “And right now, I want to know what makes you tick.”

When Principal Yaga had first told him there would be a new professor from overseas joining them, it hadn’t mattered to him greatly.

Another teacher? Well that was good. A foreigner? Interesting.

However, it hadn’t been something he had given much thought to.

So when he first met you at the faulty meeting he had hosted in his apartment, he had been surprised to find out how beautiful you were. You were also young, a little bit younger than him but still so young for someone so well accomplished (yes after your flirtatious encounter where you called his eyes beautiful he had looked you up).

He must confess, he read your academic articles all thirty of them and he was always finding an excuse to speak to you in the lounge room.

At last when he hadn’t been able to fight the longing for you anymore, he had waited until after hours, knowing you’d still be on campus.

“Still here?” He had taunted.

“I’m not in a big hurry to go home,” you said.

That was interesting to him. Surely a woman like you had someone waiting for her? It was something he had pathetically tried to find the answer to online but had fallen short given your profiles being professional in nature.

Desperate for the answer he continued to tease.

“Lonely at home?”

God, he could shoot himself in the foot for that one! How incredibly cringe. He was used to getting away with it on account of his good looks, but you were different than most. You didn’t seem to fall easily to his charm. In a way it was humanizing, you didn’t let the veil of his looks and his power get in the way of seeing him for what he was.

“No. I like being here. You may have been here for a while but I’m still trying to get established.”

As suspected, you didn’t find his comment charming, answering rather defensively.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said, tugging a strand of your hair and considering it a good sign when you didn’t shoo him away.

“What are you still doing here anyways?” You asked him.

His heart was racing from how your eyes looked up at him and he was (not for the first time) grateful that his blindfold kept him shielded for surely he looked like a lovesick schoolboy.

“Because I knew you’d be here,” he said.

“Me?”

The way you asked so dumbfounded made his heart ache for you more.

Yes you, he wanted to tell you, he wanted to tell you just how completely unaware you were of the effect you can have.

Even more so when you allowed him to kiss you, he felt like he was on cloud nine. Your body had felt soft on him, it was everything he had dreamed about, everything he had allowed himself to feel despite his fragile heart being ever so cautious.

“Gojo stop,” you had said suddenly, and to his horror.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

You had only made excuses and ran off leaving his fragile heart to shatter into a million pieces.

“Fuck, Satoru- you’re so good at this,” you moaned, your back arching as you fell back against the mattress.

He tongued at your folds, lapping at your clit and your arousal as if he was dehydrated and needed it in order to live.

His fingers spread you open for him, flashing him with your inner pink, the sight nearly sending him into a frenzy.

Your hands went to his white hair, gripping the locks and using them as an anchor as his tongue continued to pleasure you.

Your moans were just as pretty as he had imagined and between that and the taste of you, he was determined to make you orgasm hard.

It didn’t take long for him to find your sweet spot. You were starting to realize that of his mouth had more uses than just teasing and your toes curled.

“This is where you’re weak, huh?” he said, sensing it from how your grip on his fingers tightened. You felt him curl his fingers up inside of you, continuing to pleasure that new unlocked spot as he leaned forward tongue still sliding down your sensitive clit.

“Mm- Satoru I’m close,” you warned.

“I know, I know,” he cooed against your skin.

Continuing that pace and motions, you felt it arising now, the tell tell signs of orgasm and the adrenaline feeling as if you were falling off a cliff. “That’s it, baby, let it go.”

And you did, coming down from your high as your fluid flooded his tongue.

You panted and watched as he lapped you clean, relishing the taste. Then, like before, a devious look rose to his crystal eyes. He came up to you, hovering gently above you, hands on the bed to steady himself.

“You should really taste yourself,” he said. Before giving you time to register what he meant, he kissed you and you moaned against his lips. The taste on his lips was sweet yet metallic and it was yours. It was so lewd, the way you enjoyed it, but again the fire of desire was burning for him so you simply indulged in the passionate makeout.

“Want help with that?” you asked, eyes pointed at the bulge in his pants as the kiss broke apart, salvia still connecting the two of you faintly.

You swore you saw him blush, but having a new found confidence, you didn’t wait for him to answer, fingers shakily undoing his pants.

“So eager,” he teased, stepping back to fully shrug the pants and his boxers off. His shirt followed after.

His cock was big, bigger than any you had been with, and the head was just as pink as his lips. A forming bud of precum was visible at the tip.”Like what you see?”

“Very much so,” you admitted. You were ready for him to sink into you, but an expression of concern overtook his face.

“I don’t have a condom,” he explained, “I know you think I do this a lot but I don't, I don’t just have them on me.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. You weren’t exactly on any birth control right now since it had been a while since you were sexually active yourself, but you didn’t want to turn him down. Plus you were aware of where you were in your cycle so the chances of pregnancy would be slim.

“It’s fine, but I’m gonna need a morning after pill just in case,” you stated.

He seemed to perk up.

“Does that mean I can spend the night?” He asked. It never ceases to amaze you how someone of his stature could still have such a childlike demeanor.

Oh what harm could it do? You had already made it this far with him.

“Yes,” you conceded. You tried not to think about the fact that he was still technically a coworker and you intrusively wondered how the students would react if they knew the two of you were engaging in such activities.

“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty little head?” He asked.

“Nothing I just, we’re still colleagues,” you said.

He smiled and lined himself up with you, the tip of his cock fettering your entrance.

“And? Colleagues can’t blow a little steam off together every now and then?”

You gasped feeling him against your slickness, not in yet but only just, still lingering at your entrance.

“That’s not really helping your case of not doing these things with just anyone,” you said.

He laughed.

“I can assure you before you I had no need or desire to fuck a colleague,” he said.

Then at last, he began to sink into you. At first only the delicate pink tip, then an inch, then two more, until the full length was bottomed out inside of you.

“Oh, you feel so full,” you whispered more as an exclamation to yourself but he heard all the same.

For him, it has always been a fantasy to fuck you in your work clothing, as he had told you before your long skirts offered the illusion of quick access whenever at his disposal.

He began to thrust lightly, allowing himself to relish all your warm walls.

“So sexy,” he praised as his pace began to quicken. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and you could feel his pulse beating away inside of you.

It felt natural being under him like this, almost right as if you were meant to be underneath him like this taking every inch of his impressive rod.

Although you were no stranger to sex at your age, his thrusting made you feel something you never had before.

“Fuck me back, you’re a big girl aren’t you?” he teased, his mind probably following your line of thinking.His words emboldened you, and your vaginal grip on his cock tightened, and you began to thrust your hips up to meet his pace.

You craned your neck a little to watch as his cock went in and out.

He caught you looking.

“So you like to watch, huh?” his voice was heated. God, he was finding out so much about you. You were just as dirty as him, even if you were usually so well composed.

“Satoru!” you yelped as he easily lifted you up, bodies still connected and dragged you to the restroom.

“Oh this is perfect,” he whispered.

Your bathroom had a large full length mirror and another large mirror above the sinks. Here, no matter where you’d look, you’d be able to see him fucking you.

“Satoru, can I take my clothes off?” you asked, horrified at the idea of your work clothes getting soiled.

“I have no objection to that,” he said. He placed you against the countertop, and undid your blouse removing it and your bra.

Then came your skirt.

Regrettably, for this he had to slide out of you, but it only took a moment.

“Face the mirror I want you to be able to watch,” he said.

You did, gripping the counter as he slid into you from the back.

This all felt so surreal.

Had it only been just this morning that you had burnt yourself? You had still been avoiding him then, now he had you bent over in your own bathroom as he thrusted in and out of your vagina raw from behind.

You supposed this was what fucking a colleague entailed, it was much more chaotic than in the movies.

Your eyes caught sight of his face, red and sweaty, eyes closed and turning your head to your side, you saw his length going in and out of you from the reflection in the full length mirror.

His fingers kneaded the flesh of your ass, and you threw your ass back against him, cheeks enveloping his cock.

“Fuck,” he cursed.

Your shared moans echoed in the bathroom’s acoustics and it only set him off more. His pace quickened and his hands reached around to cup your breasts, squeezing the sensitive nipples.

You turned your head and your lips found his, all the while his thrusting and you grinding your ass back against him were bringing you both closer to reaching your peak.

“Satoru-“ you warned, but he seemed to understand.

“I know, I know. I’m cumming too,” he panted.

Breathing heavily, you felt him shoot his load into you as you came on him, fluids dripping to the floor.

He gave a shaky laugh.

“Erm- I can clean this up. Don’t worry about it. You should go lay down,” he said after using your hand towel to clean in between your legs.

Mumbling in agreement, you went back to your room.

Heart beating fast you tried to reconcile with the fact that you just had sex with a colleague and moreover you had agreed for him to stay the night. It wasn’t that you regretted it, Gojo was many things but a bad lay wasn’t one of them.

You opened your drawer and quickly changed into a matching lounge set. You heard Gojo humming and moving around in the bathroom as he cleaned up. When he came out, he held your clothes in his hands, still naked himself. He placed your clothes on your bed before going to pick his own up and putting them back on, laughing slightly.

“What’s funny?” you asked.

“You,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His lower half was covered once again as his boxers and pants came back on.

“What about me?” You pressed.

“You’d think after what we just did you wouldn’t be so shy still. It’s cute,” he said, pulling his top on and adjusting it so his v-line was no longer visible. He left his shoes off and when you raised your brows he said “remember I’m staying the night?”

Of course you remembered.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, shrugging.

He let out a belly laugh.

“Why do you keep laughing at me?” you asked, growing frustrated.

His face softened as he smiled at you fondly.

“It’s just I don’t think I’ve met someone who is worse at expressing their feelings than me, it’s comforting.”

Well, he was right in that assessment so you couldn’t help as your lips twitched upwards in a smile of your own.

If today was going to be his only chance to make a good impression of you, he was going to use it to his full advantage.

“You know what I always loved to do during snow days? Build a fort and watch movies with hot chocolate.”

Luckily, you had taken his suggestion well and so he had taken it upon himself to build said fort by maneuvering your furniture and bringing your blankets and pillows over to the living room in front of the tv.

He was aware of your eyes watching him as he did so.

“What?” he asked, his hand rubbing the back of his neck self consciously.

“You’re just different than I expected,” you said genuinely, your voice free of judgment.

He nodded in understanding, he was used to people having the wrong impression about him. His looks, his talents, which were given to him at birth, all of these were things that shaped how people viewed him. He couldn’t fault you for having thought the same, but it did relieve him that you seemed to be gaining a more comprehensive perspective of him now.

“I’m gonna make us hot chocolate, you’re still banned from using the kettle after this morning,” he said, making his way to the kitchen and looking through your cupboards. He found the hot chocolate packets and went through the motions of heating up the water again just as he had done for the ramen earlier.

“Speaking of this morning, you should really apologize to the kids. You were kind of stern with them,” you said, appearing at his side and leaning against the fridge.

You looked so beautiful to him in the fluorescent lighting, your lips still puffy from the kisses you had exchanged and your hair tousled. He wanted to freeze this moment and live in it. He could see himself growing old with you and sharing domestic moments such as this. Satoru you poor romantic thing, he thought to himself. He had quite a habit of being a yearner, of letting his feelings consume him.

It was his biggest flaw.

“Yes, maybe I should. Tomorrow I’ll make sure to do so,” he said.

He finished preparing the hot chocolate and carrying both mugs he said: “now would you like to choose the first movie?”

Watching movies with Gojo was peaceful. You each took turns choosing a movie. He preferred comedies and animated movies while you chose cult classics.

Strangely enough, you felt comfortable with him. His commentary every now and then throughout the movies and the way he laid close to you in the fort, with only your knees brushing past each other occasionally, made you feel like he was trying to put you at ease.

Despite the two of you having sex earlier, he didn’t make any moves to touch you again, and you felt that it was intentional with him leaving the choice up to you.

After the last movie finished, credits rolling, he turned down the volume before facing you.

“So what’s with you and Nanami?” he asked.

You could tell from his expression he was trying to seem nonchalant, but his eyes that had remained unblindfolded betrayed him, there was worry in his pretty blues.

“Nanami? Nothing. He’s just a colleague and I enjoy working with him. Why?” you asked.

“I just wondered because you chose him to accompany you to see Shoko over me,” he said. There was a long pause before he added, “you know we’re colleagues too.”

Your face flushed as you understood.

“I don’t like Nanami like that,” you mumbled, no longer able to meet his eyes. Luckily, he didn’t press you more, your answer being sufficient enough for him.

You felt him shift besides you until he was no longer on his back but facing towards you. Having had his blindfold still off you were able to notice more of his emotions he usually kept hidden. Now there was a hint of sadness in them, the same sadness you had seen on….

“Satoru, why does Shoko always look sad?” You asked.

He gave you a wry smile.

“It’s a long story and I’m sure only Shoko can speak for herself, but I can tell you about it as best as I can.”

So he did.

He told you the story of three young gifted sorcerers and their ‘blue spring,’ as he had coined the last time the three ever felt a sense of normalcy. The story involved himself, Shoko, and someone named Geto, but mainly it orbited around him and Geto. Gojo told you of the mission they had failed at, to keep a young girl named Riko alive since she was the Star Plasma Vessel. You could tell by how he spoke of it that he felt largely responsible, especially since he hadn’t rested as much as he should have.

“But that wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have possibly known about Toji and he was strategic so you’d never see him coming,” you said.

“Maybe but it’s my fault for not noticing after how Geto changed. It affected him more than me in a way because of his ability to absorb curses. All that negative energy and the way it made him feel especially after he was jaded by the fact that non sorcerers couldn’t care less about sorcerers who protect them.”

Feeling that this was the first time he had opened up about this, you turned your body to face him as well and took his hand in your own squeezing it for support.

“Maybe you didn’t notice it because he kept it to himself? You can’t fault yourself for that,” you said.

“Or maybe he didn’t tell me because of who I am, who I was born into being and my abilities. You know I’ve never known what it’s like to feel weak to feel truly powerless? Sometimes I don’t even feel human.”

You felt a twinge of guilt for having thought he was some sort of womanizer, after what he had told you, that seemed so far out from the truth. It was clear he wore his heart on his sleeve and that it was his nature but he was guarded, even felt isolated because of the magnitude of his strength.

“I don’t think that’s fully true. Maybe in terms of power and your cursed energy but what you described: regret, guilt, and loneliness. All those things are very human,” you said. He smiled at you, and it reached his eyes so you figured your words had been of some comfort to him.

“In a way Shoko probably feels more regret than I do, though I can’t be certain,” he explained to address your original question.

“How so?” you asked.

“Shoko’s ability is to heal. Curses destroy, people get hurt, and she heals. It is the same over and over and after a while you can start to wonder if there’s a point, if there is an end to the cycle.”

“Just like Geto did,” you finished for him, making the connection.

He nodded.

You laid there in silence for a while, listening to the gentle sound of his breathing.

“Why me?” you asked, finally asking the question that has been the source of your previous resistance to him.

“You’re beautiful, I thought so the moment I saw you. In truth it was after reading your published articles that I wanted to know you more. I felt like you’d understand me. You know your article analyzing Shakespeare's King Henry?”

You nodded. How could you forget? It had been a pain to publish through all the hurdles of academia.

“There was one line from the play you wrote about and it really stuck with me,” he said. He waited as if he wanted you to guess which line it was, and instinctively you knew.

“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”

You don’t remember falling asleep or making it to your bed but when you wake up with the warmth of the sunlight kissing your face you immediately sit up as you remember the previous day's events. Your blankets having been used for the fort were draped back around you.

A glance at your bedside tells you that Gojo had been to the store already, the morning after pill box sitting there waiting for you to take with a glass of water next to it. You go through the motions of taking it and then follow the scent of bacon and eggs to your kitchen.

Gojo is there, cooking breakfast and his blindfold is back on.

“Good morning,” he says, seeing you linger at the entrance.

“Satoru, what time is it? It’s so bright out,” you asked, going to sit at the kitchen island.

“A little past noon. Shhh don’t worry. Classes are canceled for today again so I turned your alarm off,” he said, setting a plate of food in front of you alongside a cup of orange juice.

“I don’t remember falling asleep,” you said, biting into the fat of the bacon.

He laughed.

“Yeah you went out like a light. I think it’s my fault we spent the whole day watching movies and I trauma dumped on you,” he said.

He sat down next to you with his own plate of food and orange juice.

At his words, you briefly remember strong arms carrying you to bed, lingering lips on your forehead and a gentle kiss on your skin.

“Did you sleep here last night?” you asked him remembering how he had wanted to spend the night with you.

“I did. I slept on the couch. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he explained. You nodded, yet a part of you was worried. Would you two go back to formalities? After everything the two of you had done and shared yesterday you couldn’t phantom that possibility. Fortunately he felt the same way.

“Listen, the kids told me they are gonna have another snowball fight today before all the snow melts up. They asked me if I wanna join and I want you to come with me,” he said.

You finished eating and looked at him.

“I’d like that,” you replied.

His hand reached for yours and he interlocked the fingers with you.

“I want to be your man, if you’ll have me. I know we’re still getting to know each other but I can see myself spending forever with you,” he said, his cheeks were rosy.

“I want to be with you too. Forever is a long time,” you said.

“I know so let’s start with now and we’ll lead our way into forever,” he said.

When he leaned forward to kiss you, you didn’t deny him, savoring the taste of him and bacon grease.

#gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fanfic #jjk oneshot #satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo fluff

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mediocrevideopodcast · 4 months

Text

Prompt: Calling the Lackadaisy characters by their full name

A/N: University has been keeping me busy, and I've been in a bit of a writers block. So in the meantime, take this goofy little thing!

Includes: Rocky Rickaby/Reader Calvin "Freckle" McMurray/Reader Dorian "Zib" Zibowski/Reader Mordecai Heller/Reader Viktor Vasko/Reader Serafine Savoy/Reader Nicodeme "Nico" Savoy/Reader

Rocky Rickaby:

Rocky's always pleased to hear his name fall from your lips… "Rocky Rickaby…" he loves to occupy your attention, and he's not above doing a silly trick here and there to get you to utter his name like that. But his given name? You can't even finish "Roark" before he's at your feet, begging for forgiveness. Queue the waterworks -- his muse, his winter sunshine, his summer breeze please, please forgive him. For he is naught but a mortal man, riddled with the propensity for mistakes, but is -- Hm? The maple syrup is in the back of the pantry, yes. Yes, next to the peanut butter. -- is that not the natural state of such mortal endeavors? Surely, such a divine being must take pity on the folly of man!

He doesn't register that you were only playing with him. Or, maybe he's realized and is just committing to the bit. You'll never know. What you do know, however, is that you'll have him at your feet for the next hour or so.

Calvin McMurray:

Calvin, Cal, Freckle… Sweetheart, in private. McMurray, when you're teasing. Calvin really gets the gamut of names and nicknames when it comes to you. But when he hears his full name yelled out from the opposite end of the house, he's nothing if not panicked. The past two decades of Irish Catholicism really beats that into you. He rushes to your side, back straight, head down in silent apology for… whatever it is, that he did.

"...Yes, dear?"

He has to bite his tongue a bit to not bring out any honorifics, but the message comes across just the same. There's only 2 times he uses "dear" as his go to-- 1.) In front of his mother, 2.) After he's done something he shouldn't.

Decompresses instantaneously when you ask him to open the pickle jar. He exhales quietly, holding his hand out silently for the jar. His heart can't take this sort of thing. Don't do this to the poor man… too often.

Dorian Zibowski:

Blinks owlishly when he hears his full name shouted out from across the house. If there's any way to sober Zib up… this is it. He's leaping to his feet in an instant, rushing to where you are… and slowing down when he's just out of sight. He smooths his fur and his clothes and takes a deep breath before waltzing calmly into your line of sight. Play it cool.

"Funny way of pronouncing "Zibowski, doll. Need something?"

He takes it in stride, but don't be fooled -- he's quaking in his boots, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He feels the weight lifted off his chest when you ask him to grab something from the top shelf, although you'd never know that. He does, however, press a lingering kiss to your temple after he passes the item off to you. Don't read into it too much.

Mordecai Heller:

He tears his eyes away from his book, glancing at you from over the rim of his teacup. "Yes?"

He's truly unaffected. He's introduced by his first and last name all the time, and he was never scolded in such a manner as a child. If you were looking for some outlandish reaction, all you've got is his quiet attention. And you might want to answer quickly -- he'd really like to finish this chapter tonight. This is quite a grueling read, you know.

His true name, however, is a different story. But that's for entirely different reasons, and well, you wouldn't know anything about that. Right?

Viktor Vasko:

Yet another one who is unaffected. He looms over you a bit -- which really, isn't unusual for him considering his stature -- humming questioningly.

He's a man of few words, and even fewer reactions. You've really gotta put some emotion in your voice if you want to get any sort of reaction out of him, and even then the most you're likely to get is a raised eyebrow… maybe a bit of a head tilt if you're lucky. And you can really only do this once -- he'll remember your little trick for next time.

(If you really want to get a reaction out of him, use some sort of petname. He secretly finds them rather sweet, and the right one will force-reset his brain a bit the first few times you use it. )

Seraphine Savoy:

Seraphine isn't unaffected by the use of her full name… rather, she revels in it. She's always enjoyed the flow of her name, but it always seems to fall from your lips like some goldly golden ichor. To call it heavenly would be a bit of a misnomer -- sinful, mayhaps? It's a difficult feeling to place, but she strides over to you confidently nonetheless. Her lips quirk up as she leans into your personal space.

"Yes, amou?"

Nicodeme Savoy:

Truthfully, he isn't the biggest fan of you calling him by his full name. Well, his full first name, anyways. Feels too stuffy, for his liking. But he takes it in stride, waltzing up to you lazily. He rests his arm on your shoulder and leans down to be eye-level with you, eyes half lidded with a grin. He throws your own full name right back at you teasingly. Need something? Want him to grab something, or open a jar? Hm?

His grin stretches a bit wider when you pout -- you really thought you'd get him this time, huh? He kisses you chastely, nipping at you softly in jest. Gotta try harder than that to shake him, bebe.

#divider by @cafekitsune #lackadaisy x reader #rocky rickaby x reader #nicodeme savoy x reader #mordecai heller x reader #dorian zibowski x reader #serafine savoy x reader #calvin mcmurray x reader #viktor vasko x reader #lackadaisy imagine #lackadaisy rocky x reader #lackadaisy nico x reader #lackadaisy mordecai x reader #lackadaisy serafine x reader #lackadaisy viktor x reader #lackadaisy calvin x reader #lackadaisy zib x reader

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writeforfandoms · 7 months

Text

Let the Sparks Fly

Find my Ghost masterlist

For @glitterypirateduck 1-4-1 challenge! I used thunderstorm/rain, power outage, neighbors, and forced proximity!

You meet one of your neighbors in the elevator, and a storm knocks out the power at the worst possible time. At least your neighbor is nice.

Warnings: Power outage, total darkness, brief moment of panic, swearing, soft Simon, brief jumpscare.

Simon Riley x f!reader

Word count: 2k

The rain had chosen the worst possible moment to come, getting you before you could get inside. Your groceries were undoubtedly wet as well now. But you were almost to your building, walking as close to buildings as possible in hopes that they’d help block some of the rain.

Someone ahead of you turned and opened the door to your building, and your foot caught the door before it could close. He paused, glancing back at you over one massive shoulder. You didn’t recognize him, but that wasn’t exactly unusual.

You’d only moved in a couple months ago, you hardly knew all your neighbors.

Offering him a shy smile, you shuffled inside with your groceries, shoes squeaking slightly against the floor. You eyed the stairs for a moment and then shook your head. Nope. No way. You were taking the lift.

The man got to the lift before you, stepping in and moving aside. He was big, taking up a good portion of the space, but you still stepped in next to him.

The button for your floor was already pushed.

Your heart clenched. Okay. No big deal. He just lived on the same floor. That was perfectly reasonable, really. Trying to be sneaky, you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

Tall, broad. Black face mask, black beanie. Plain gray shirt and jeans. Seemingly paying you no attention at all, hands stuffed in his pockets.

The lift shuddered to a stop, and you tensed, hands gripping your bags tightly. You had just enough time to wonder if the lift had died (again).

The lights went out.

You froze. You’d never been overly scared of the dark. Cautious, yes. You’d suffered enough stubbed toes and barked shins to be aware of where you put your feet. But not usually scared.

This, though. This made you scared. Between the small space, the sudden darkness, and the stranger, you were scared.

Sudden light made you flinch, nails digging into your skin. But it was just the man’s phone, flashlight function on and pointed consciously down at the floor.

Oh. Of course. You didn’t have to stand here in the dark. Well, now you just felt foolish.

“You alright?” Dark eyes focused on you over the mask, though he kept his body half angled away from you, keeping the light from pointing directly at you.

“Yeah,” you agreed quickly, shifting your weight and rolling your shoulders. “Think the lift died?”

He grunted softly, looking back down at his phone. A few moments of silence, then he shook his head. “Power’s down,” he murmured.

“Great,” you muttered with as much sarcasm as you could muster. Well. Might as well put your groceries down. No telling how long this would take. You set the bags against one wall, stretching out your fingers. “Suppose if worse comes to worst, I can always eat the ice cream.”

A soft huff of amusement caught your attention, and you looked at your quiet companion. He glanced at you before looking back down at his phone, big fingers nimble as he typed something. Even in the relatively tight confines of the lift, he kept to his own space, conscious in a way so few men were.

“How long do you think this will take?” You couldn’t help asking. You knew he had no idea, same as you. You just… had to ask. Had to do something with the almost-jittery feeling. You weren’t claustrophobic, never had been, but this situation still grated at your nerves.

His gaze lifted to you again, dark eyes assessing, before he shrugged one shoulder. (One rather giant shoulder, you realized. He truly was massive, which made his self-containment all the more impressive.) “Got somewhere you need to be?” His voice was low, a little rough. Pleasant.

You blew out a breath, letting it puff out your cheeks along the way. “Just laundry,” you admitted dryly. “Very exciting, you know.”

He chuffed, not quite laughter but something close to it. “Only if you spot rats.”

“In this basement? There’s more than one kind of rodent down there.” You made a face.

He raised one eyebrow at you, wordlessly inviting you to go on.

“There’s this guy that lives on the third floor,” you started, leaning back against the nearest wall. “He’s kind of a rat. Fortunately I don’t see him often.”

He nodded once, seemingly amused. “I’ll keep an eye out for him,” he agreed, glancing back down at his phone. “Battery’s getting low.” The way his gaze flicked to you made you blink.

He was telling you specifically. So you had warning.

“Let me turn mine on.” You scrambled for a moment, fishing your phone out and flipping the flashlight on. His turned off a moment later. With a soft sigh, you gave up and sat on the floor. “Somehow all the stories about getting stuck places forget the sheer boredom aspect.”

He puffed out another not-quite laugh, crouching slowly across from you. Still careful to give you your space. “Lotta hurry up and wait,” he agreed blandly.

With a sigh, you gave up and started playing on your phone. There was nothing else to do, after all. The two of you were trapped until the power came back.

“How long have you lived here?” You chanced a glance up at him to find he’d sat down properly, back against the wall.

He shrugged, dark eyes once again focused on you, surgical mask obscuring most of his expression. “Why?”

“Haven’t seen you around before. Not that I know all the neighbors, or even everyone on our floor, I’m just curious.” You wrinkled your nose at yourself. Great conversational skills, there.

But he surprised you. “Not around often,” he offered, in lieu of an answer, apparently.

“Got it.” You forced yourself to straighten your back and shoulders, knowing from experience that you’d be sore later if you stayed slumped over. It had been nearly half an hour already, so you twisted a little to grab your groceries and check them.

The ice cream was definitely melting, but there wasn’t much to be done about that. Actually, now that you thought about it, you were cold too. Still damp from the rain, stuck holding still in this enclosed space… Damn. You were gonna catch a cold from this.

“Melting?”

You blinked, jolting back to yourself at the question, and nodded with a wry smile. “Seems that way,” you agreed, looking at the carton regretfully. “You want some?”

He shook his head. “Keep it,” he urged you softly.

You poked the carton once more and huffed, giving up on it. You’d have to get more ice cream later. The shiver caught you by surprise, making you huff again.

“Alright?” The question was careful.

“Just cold,” you admitted wryly. “I’m fine. Not dying of boredom yet.”

He snorted softly, head tipping away from you again.

Time passed slowly, dripping by, interspersed with your shivering and very quiet swearing as you distracted yourself. Your ice cream was definitely never going to be the same after this. Fortunately everything else should be fine.

Unless you died of boredom first.

Your head jerked up suddenly, eyes wide as you fixed your gaze on your neighbor. He looked back at you, alert, almost wary.

“So I just realized how rude I’ve been,” you said, embarrassment creeping through your chest and up your neck. “Haven’t even introduced myself yet.” You gave him your name, fingers tapping anxiously against your phone.

He was silent for a long moment, still looking at you. Then he nodded, just once. “Simon.”

You nodded to him and looked back at your phone. The battery was getting low, and you didn’t want to run it down entirely, just in case. So you sighed softly, resigning yourself to suffering in the dark for a while.

“Have to turn off my light,” you warned him, waiting for the nod of acknowledgement to actually do it.

The darkness was total, almost heavy with how instant it was. You couldn’t see a single thing. You blinked rapidly, knowing it wouldn’t help, but still needing to anyway. Right. This was fine. No problem. No big deal. You closed your eyes, since you couldn’t see anyway, and focused on breathing. Though muffled, you could still hear the rain very faintly, the constant patter soothing.

Now if only you weren’t so damn cold.

Time was weird and slippery as you sat there in the dark, huddled into yourself. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed without checking your phone, which you tried not to do. It wouldn’t help or change anything.

“Doin’ alright?”

The soft question nearly made you jump. Your head turned a little towards him, though you couldn’t see him. “Yeah.”

He paused, and something made you think he was weighing his words, rather than simply going silent. “Can practically hear you shivering, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well.” You clenched your jaw against another shiver, harder than before. “Not exactly warm in here.”

He huffed softly. Sudden light from him checking his phone made you blink, the light extra bright now. “Still working on getting power back,” he reported. “Going back up around the city, so it’s only a matter of time.”

You blew out a slow breath, oddly touched. Had he checked that just for you? “Right. Thanks.”

Silence and darkness fell between the two of you again, and you curled tighter in on yourself. You were tired and cold and you really just wanted to be in your flat by now. Even if the power was still off, at least you could change into dry clothes and wrap yourself in blankets.

The lights in the elevator flickered a few times before turning on properly. “Finally,” you muttered, pushing quickly up to your feet, leaving your groceries on the floor for the moment. You’d grab them when the elevator started moving again. You noticed Simon getting to his feet as well, a little more slowly.

The elevator groaned, an odd noise you’d never heard it make before. You tensed, eyes going wide, darting to Simon for some reason. He was just as still as you.

The elevator dropped. Just a few inches.

But it was enough to make you shriek, curling in on yourself. A moment later arms curled around you, helping steady you even as the elevator car jolted, and then stilled.

“‘S alright,” Simon murmured, quiet and soothing, though he didn’t let go of you. Your shaking wasn’t entirely from cold.

You breathed in raggedly, fingers curling into his shirt, still shaking. “What…?” You couldn’t even finish your question.

“You’re okay,” he repeated, still soft, still gentle. He didn’t release you, his body heat bleeding into you, the security of his arms lending you courage. The elevator had stopped again, the lights weak but on. You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing.

The elevator started again, moving up, and you jumped. Simon didn’t say a word, just held you a little tighter. Normally, someone getting this close that you didn’t know would be alarming.

But it wasn’t. He wasn’t. You just felt… safe. And finally less cold.

“D’you want a cuppa tea?” you offered. Well. Blurted, more like. When he looked down at you, one eyebrow raised, embarrassment flushed hot up your chest and face. “Just tea! Really! I mean, I just got a new box, and you’ve been so nice, and I might still be a little bit freaked out right now and I’m rambling please tell me to stop–” You cut yourself off at his soft huff of laughter. This close, you could see the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile.

“You need to warm up first,” he said, only releasing you when the doors opened. He scooped up your bags before you could and stepped out, you trailing in his wake.

“Right,” you muttered, chagrined. Of course he didn’t want to come hang out in your apartment. He hadn’t known you for long. Wow. Way to go, self.

“Which one’s yours?” He looked back at you, pausing in the hallway.

You considered him for a moment before you stepped in front of him, going to your door and unlocking it before you held out a hand for your groceries. “Thanks.”

He considered you for a long moment, not relinquishing your bags. Then he nodded once. “Give me ten minutes,” was all he said, bags changing hands before he strode down the hall.

You blinked after him. Ten minutes? Why…?

Oh. Oh.

He was saying yes!

…Shit you had to clean.

#141challenge #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #f!reader

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ozzgin · 4 months

Note

I can't get your yakuza headcanons out of my mind, Daitou's got me in a chokehold and I'm not complaining, like--

in regards to that doodle you made to show height difference between reader and the boys [I love your art btw (●♡∀♡)] - I can't picture myself in reader's style, I'm currently going through my goth phase in my 20s lmao; picture a big bitch with tattoos and messy hair who's listening to nothing but 2000s hits and screamo bands - so I'd like to request a headcanon of how Daitou would react to a gender-neutral reader like this :D I also like to incorporate the idea of them once being in a famous band that he's a fan of! (sorry if this seems like a lot, I have a huge imagination hehe)

but if he's more into the cute and helpless type, I'll just walk my ass out the door and yeehaw my way into another yandere's arms ✌😔

That's on me for not drawing the reader inserts as cartoonish cinder blocks :') In truth I'm a little bit embarrassed seeing how many likes that doodle has gotten, it was something I put together in a hurry and the clothing was meant to be baggy, shapeless, with not too many folds for the sake of simplicity. I myself am more of a pilgrim goth, just to emphasize the randomness of the choice.

Drawing reader inserts always leaves me a little anxious. If I use a light shade of gray, will people think I'm excluding poc? Will plus sized readers feel like they've been disregarded? What about masculine readers? As someone who's demiromantic I always struggle taking appearance or gender into consideration, because to me it has no influence whatsoever. Which is hard to express when you want to offer blank slate visuals as an extra to the story.

What I'm trying to say is that all of my characters would like you for who you are. Sure, they find your looks cute, but it's not the defining reason. Maybe you have similar traits to them, maybe you're the complete opposite and they find it intriguing. You could be a buff man and Daitou would be just as grateful to have someone who isn't afraid of him. I usually stick to a female reader for bigger stories to avoid messing it up long term, but in the grand scheme of things it makes no difference. I always imagine reader to be a shapeless blob that provides the dialogue I need for the story mood. There's no concrete preference or type for any of my OCs. I mean, ideally you'd like them back and not hang them upside down above a BBQ pit but I feel these are sensible requirements (?).

And now for the actual headcanons since my ramble is over.

First encounter is comically awkward but for reasons you’re unaware of yet. You’re obviously used to people staring at you (more so in a country like Japan), so you were expecting the curious glance every now and then. On the other hand, being under scrutiny, from a man even more unusual looking than you at that, is odd. Mildly uncomfortable. You’re shifting yourself from one leg to another, hoping to be done with the introductions soon.

On his end, Daitou is anxiously fidgeting and trying his best to focus. He’s seen this face before and he can’t shake off the familiar feeling. Where the hell…He obviously can’t downright gawk at you, and he isn’t sure how to politely formulate a question. After several sheepish peeks, it finally dawns on him: weren’t you part of that band he really likes? No, what would the chances be? Then again, how many people out there would look exactly like you? Is it rude to ask? He has no idea. He resumes his mumbled description of the apartment and hands you the papers to be signed.

Back at his place, he finally digs through his merch and sprawls out the available clues. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of music”, Kazuya comments as he looks over the man’s shoulder. He’d come over to ask about the new tenant. “I’m pretty sure it’s them.” He concludes, confidently placing his index over a CD cover. “Huh? Who? The tenant?” Kazuya holds back his chuckle. “Why would a celebrity show up for a shady apartment offer? You’re tripping, man.”

“I’m sorry, this is getting ridiculous.” You finally exclaim, annoyed by the persistent stares of the now two men facing you. You’re standing in front of the apartment building, arms crossed, huffing at the tall scarred man and his blonde friend. “No, I’m sure of it. Even the tattoo is the same.” Daitou turns to whisper to Kazuya, oblivious to your complaints. In turn, Kazuya lightly elbows him, mouthing something about being rude. “Just ask them, man.” He adds, this time louder. “Ask me what??” You groan. “W-were you…um…in this band by any chance?” Daitou manages to blurt out, searching his pocket for the CD case and ceremoniously laying it under your eyes.

Ah. It finally clicks and you exhale, relieved. You confirm their suspicions and show them some backstage photos to solidify your claim. You ask Daitou if he wants an autograph or something, then swiftly scribble your signature on a piece of paper and hand it out to him. He holds it with a wide, childish grin. “You’re a weird one, you know? You could’ve just asked. I guess I didn’t expect to find a fan in the wild, especially here.” Daitou carefully folds the souvenir, eyes lidded with nostalgia. “Oh yes, it’s great. Drowns out the screams.”

#yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #daitou

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wooataes · 2 months

Text

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part Ten)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Hanahaki!AU, angst, alcohol consumption, green-eyed monster named jealousy, tears, lots of crying, heartbreak, mentions of death, suggestive thoughts? guilt, swearing

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: It has been a long time coming! Oh my goodness guys, thank you so much for your incredible patience with me as I have been navigating my life into the new year and getting my life together essentially. I finally (with the support of my friendos) managed to get this up and out for you all! Thank you all as always for your love and support of refl! 🥰

- Tae 💜🌸✨

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Jihoon was so fucked.

To his credit, he is trying. Trying to ignore the fact that his body feels some sort of attraction towards his soulmate, situated only a few feet away from him on a beach chair. Trying to ignore the ink embedded into your skin along your collarbone that he can see out of his peripheral vision.

Trying to ignore temptation.

Your sunglasses are pushed up your nose to keep the sun out of your eyes, having opted to let the sun warm your body up instead of making your way into the water. It’s unusual for Jihoon to see you so still and so silent, simply basking in the sunlight as a hand belonging to Jisoo reaches up to pat your calf. Jihoon immediately scowls to himself when he sees the older man glance up at you from his towel, asking quietly if you’re good to which you respond with a little nod and smile before leaning your head back again and relaxing into the beach chair.

Your soulmate heaves a soft sigh as he checks his phone for the fourth time in the last two hours. Ji-ah was due to arrive back in Seoul soon and he has been growing increasingly more worried the longer it takes for her to not answer.

“Y/N!” A loud voice rouses you from your hungover slumber, causing you to whine and look at the shadow that is now blocking the sun from you that comes in the form of a 6’2 man named Kim Mingyu.

“Mm?” You grumble.

“Why won’t you come swimming with us?” he pouts at you, hands on his hips.

“I’m having my enrichment time out of my enclosure.” You deadpan, eyes closing again, a little grin forming on your face as you hear Mingyu let out a loud whine.

“Please can you come in the water?”

“Why does it have to be me?” You groan.

“Because Wonwoo can’t do swimming because of an accident when he was younger, Kwan and Sol are in their own little honeymoon phase world over there,” he points to said couple who are making an intricate sand castle, “Minnie is hanging off Soonie-hyung like a rash, Hannie-hyung will just attempt to use us all as a floatation device-”

“What makes you think I won’t do the same?” You raise your eyebrow.

“AND,” he glares at you, ignoring your comment. “Your brother is sulking that it’s only me who is playing with him. Please?”

“Do I have to?” You throw your head back with a dramatic sigh.

“If you don’t come in the water willingly, I will have to take you by force, Y/Nie.”

“Ha ha ha.” You roll your eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

Jihoon has kept his back to you both for the entirety of your interaction with Mingyu, deciding on his own that he needs to actually follow Jeonghan’s advice and actively make an effort to at least attempt to ignore you and help you move on. He is finding it extremely difficult, however, due to the bikini you’re currently in looking too inviting for you to wriggle your way into his thoughts like a catchy song that can’t seem to escape his brain.

Mingyu seems to take your words as a challenge though, as not even two seconds later, Jihoon is alerted by a shriek coming from you.

“KIM MINGYU!” You try and scold, the large man having now scooped you up into his arms, marching his way towards the water. Jeonghan and Wonwoo both begin to laugh at the way you flail and kick to no avail.

“Yes, Y/Nie?” Mingyu grins at you, and you thrash more.

“Kim Mingyu, I swear if you don’t put me the fuck down right now…”

“Oh, put you down?” He smirks. “Okay!”

“YAH!” You let out another squeal as he moves to drop you, but you’re faster. You immediately wrap your arms and legs around his torso, squeezing onto him for dear life. Seungcheol bursts out laughing at the sight of you, a big smile on his face as he watches on.

“I meant out of the water, you BRAT!” You smack at Mingyu’s back, who only trudges deeper into the water. You whine loudly and cling tighter to him.

“Are you sure you want to call me a brat when I could sink both of us into the water right now?” He raises his eyebrows at you, arms down by his sides as you hold onto him like a backpack..

“Yah!” You whimper, burying your face into his shoulder. Jihoon bristles at the feeling in his stomach. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’ll hang out!”

“Told you it would work.” Mingyu smirks to your brother, who only grins back triumphantly.

“I hate that you know me too well.” You groan, carefully untangling yourself from the overgrown puppy’s broad back, shivering at the feeling of the cold water as you sink your feet into the salty beach water. “I swear to god though, if you try to push me under the water, I will end you.”

Soonyoung only giggles at the glare on your face, glancing back to the shore at Jeonghan. “Hyung, isn’t she cute when she’s angry?”

“The cutest!” Jeonghan calls back, an amused smirk forming on his face as you shoot your brother’s soulmate a glare.

“I hate you all.” You grumble, crossing your arms with a pout, only making the boys around you giggle more.

“Oh come here, you big baby.” Seokmin turns around, offering his back to you.

Jihoon feels the immediate change in your mood lift to excitement, glancing over to see you happily perched up on Seokmin’s back, who wades slowly through the water with you comfortably resting against him.

“Thank you Minnie~” You sing sweetly, hugging around his shoulders.

“Hey!” Mingyu points accusingly at you. “That isn’t fair! I went through all that work to bring you out here only to have you be coddled in the water too?”

“Be grateful I’m even here, Mingyu.” You playfully glare at him, Seokmin turning you away from him as Soonyoung starts cooing and patting your head, making you grin.

“Aish, what are we going to do with you…”

For the next hour, Jihoon knows he is torturing himself by listening to the others around him (aka you) have fun. Him, alongside Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Seungkwan and Hansol watches as you with the others play happily around in the water. For the better part of twenty minutes, the game of choice, chosen by the birthday boy, has been Marco Polo. You have opted out of this game, your soulmate keeping an eye on your head currently nestled against Seokmin’s warm shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as the heat from the sun covers you like a blanket and makes your sleepiness return at full force. You look peaceful, he thinks.

His calm thoughts soon turn to discomfort as he feels his phone vibrate against his pocket, hurriedly reaching down to check the text, only to feel himself deflate at the message from his girlfriend.

Made it safe. x

No nickname, no warmth, no nothing. This is seriously unlike Ji-ah at all, and it has Jihoon nervous. Should he reply like normal? Or should he give his girlfriend the space she needs to handle her emergency?

“Jihoon-ah?” Wonwoo’s voice cuts his thoughts short, startling his housemate as he turns to stare at him with wide eyes. “You okay over there?”

“Uh, y-yeah.” He hums slightly. “Ji-ah just let me know she made it home safely.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

Is it?

“Yeah, I suppose.” Jihoon replies after a short pause, sighing quietly.

“It’s okay to be worried about her.” Wonwoo smiles at him, patting his shoulder gently. “After all, she is your-”

“YAH!” Your voice squeals out, alarming the others as they turn to look at the ocean. You’re swatting at your brother, who is loudly cackling and snatching you from Seokmin’s arms. “Get away from me, you big buffoon!”

The others upon the shore begin to laugh and smile at Seungcheol as he spins you around bridal style. “You dare be rude to your big brother on his birthday, hmm?”

“HANNIE OPPA!” You shriek as Jihoon glances at your brother’s soulmate, who simply smirks back. “DO SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR SOULMATE!”

“And ruin my hair if I fall into the water? You’re on your own, Ladybug.”

“You bast-AAAAAH!” You yelp as Seungcheol tosses you to Mingyu, who catches you effortlessly. “I hate you all!”

“What did I do?!” Seungkwan fires back immediately, wagging his finger dramatically at you as the others laugh at the joyful mood surrounding them all.

Jihoon breathes a sigh of relief at the change of subject from Wonwoo’s questioning, letting his head lean back to briefly glance at the sky as he delves back into his own thoughts.

“Aw, come on guys, leave the girl alone!” Jisoo chuckles as he rises from his towel, tucking a surfboard under his arm. He jogs into the sea, sitting up on his board as he paddles his way over to the group. “Come here, Goober. I’ll save you from these punks.” He laughs as Mingyu turns away from him, holding you tight to his chest.

“Nuh-uh! She stays with us!”

“She’s not going to stray far, promise.” He pats the board gently, making the tall man sigh and plonk you down in front of your childhood friend.

“Thank you, Shua’ppa.” You smile sweetly at him before poking your tongue out at Mingyu, who huffs and splashes you playfully, making you yelp.

“Do you know how to surf, Goob?” Jisoo asks gently, giving you a cheeky grin.

“Hong Jisoo.” You deadpan, raising an eyebrow. “I am a homebody girl from Daegu. What do you think?”

“Well,” he ignores your sass, crossing his arms across his chest as you mimic him. “Would you like to learn?”

“When I feel like throwing up from how the ocean is rocking me right now?” You laugh. “I think that’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Hmm.. you make a compelling argument.” He hums sagely, reaching up and stroking his chin, trying not to grin at the sound of your giggles. “How about then I teach you how to keep your balance on the board? No wave riding.”

“Can you guarantee that I won’t fall in?” Jisoo simply raises his hand up, his pinky extended to link with yours, flashing you an angelic smile. You narrow your eyes for a moment before reaching out to link your pinky with his. “I swear, if I fall in…”

“Trust me, Goober!”

Jihoon blinks and raises his head as he feels your amusement filling his veins, eyes coming into focus as he curiously gazes out to the sea to see why you’re feeling this way.

Your legs are shaking as you attempt to stand on the idle surfboard, your nervous laughs reaching down to where your soulmate sits. Jisoo is standing behind you with his large hands settled delicately on your bare waist, keeping you steady as he talks quietly into your ear on how to stand correctly that Jihoon can’t hear.

Jihoon feels his hair stand on end as his eyes zero in on the older man’s hands resting on your bare skin, bristling in his chair slightly.

“You can do it, Ladybug!” Jeonghan is cheering from the shore, an amused grin on his face as you flip him off.

“Focus, Goober.” Jisoo’s voice is steady as he keeps his hands on you.

You take a deep breath, standing with your legs apart as he directs you, biting down on your lip and holding your arms out to keep your balance, your eyes squeezing shut.

“That’s it!” Seungcheol cheers you on from the water, keeping a hold on the surfboard so it doesn’t toss and tip as much.

“Look at her go, babe!” Seungkwan coos excitedly to Hansol from their spot in the sand, as his soulmate watches on with an amused smile.

“Bug, open your eyes!” Soonyoung laughs at your scrunched up face.

“Goober,” Jisoo laughs, both hands now in the air. “You’re doing it. Open your eyes.”

You slowly open your eyes, looking down to see your legs balancing on the board. Your eyes widen as you look around at Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungcheol and Mingyu in the water, all cheering excitedly at you and Jisoo standing behind you with a proud grin.

“Holy fuck.” You laugh nervously. “I’m doing it.”

“WOOHOO!” Seungkwan cheers from ashore, waving excitedly with Hansol as Wonwoo simply gives you a thumbs up from beside your soulmate, who just stares with a bewildered look on his face, not knowing how to comprehend the feelings that are in his stomach.

“See?” Jisoo smiles charmingly at you, leaning in to press his lips to your temple. “I told you that you could do it.”

Jihoon grimaces at the shy smile that graces your face.

“Jihoon-ssi?”

“Hmm?” Jihoon’s brain switches into focus at the sound of your brother's voice calling out for him.

They had been back at the campsite now for roughly two hours after a long birthday dinner in the city for Seungcheol, full of fried chicken and even more alcohol. Everyone now has settled down around the campfire, ready for a final night of alcohol and drinking games for the last hurrah of the trip.

“Soonyoungie said that you are studying music production.” He smiles warmly at him. Jihoon bristles. “What made you want to pursue that?”

“O-oh.” He stutters. “Umm..”

It’s not that he was afraid of his soulmate’s brother and the fact that if he knew that he rejected his precious sister, he’d rip his head off, no, it was the fact that Jihoon isn’t a very sociable person. He has never been one to hold any type of conversation for very long with anyone unless it was something he was passionate about. Luckily for him, music is one of his specialties that he could go on for hours about. So, he does.

”My older cousin is an amateur producer and songwriter.” Jihoon quietly smiles. “He has a few albums that he’s made at the moment. His soulmate does choreography for some of his tracks. I always thought he was really cool and wanted to follow his footsteps and do what he does. I guess I’m kind of his protege now?” He shrugs his shoulders nervously with a chuckle. “There’s just something I find really interesting about breaking down a song into different segments and sections, and creating completely new beats and melodies from the source material.”

“Wow,” Seungcheol replies with curious eyes. “That’s actually really interesting.”

”I suppose so,” your soulmate nods his head as he smiles shyly to himself.

“Do you plan on releasing things in the future?”

“Oh! Um.. Maybe?” He blinks. “I write a few things here and there, but they’re not very good, I don’t think.”

“Don’t downplay your skills and hobbies, Jihoon-ssi.” Seungcheol pats his shoulder once as he rises from his spot by the campfire. “If you enjoy it, that’s all that matters.” He makes his way to grab himself a second serving of the birthday cake you had brought from your work for the final night of Seungcheol’s birthday celebrations.

Jihoon smiles to himself.

He is so kind. No wonder you turned out so well. After all, he did help raise you for most of your teen years.

“It’s not tap, tap, kick,” Soonyoung instructs loudly. “It’s tap, kick, tap! Yah, don’t you remember anything from this routine, Kwan-ah?”

“We made this dance four years ago, Hyung.” Seungkwan glares, hand on his hip. “Please spare me for not remembering a dance that is nearly HALF A DECADE old.”

“NO EXCUSES!” He shouts back, pointing dramatically as he begins to get back into position. “Five, six, seven, eight!” Seungkwan groans and begrudgingly begins to move in time to Soonyoung’s movements, much to your amusement as you weave your way through the camping chairs, bundles of bracelets in hand.

“One for you,” You chirp, two bottles of soju deep as you slide a bracelet onto Seungkwan’s wrist as you pass without skipping a beat. “And a specially made tiger one for you,” You coo, squeaking and giggling as Soonyoung takes your hand, twirling you in his arms and dipping you dramatically as the bracelet slides with ease onto his wrist, your loud laugh echoing through the empty forest and right into your soulmate’s ears, sending goosebumps down his arms.

”Thank you, Buggie Wuggie Boo,” Soonyoung coos, making you groan and shove him away.

“ICK!” You yell as you continue to pass bracelets through the group, Jihoon eyeing you out of the corner of his eye as you draw closer towards where he sits. “Here you go, Hannie-Oppa!”

”Thank you, sweetheart.” your brother’s soulmate smiles, ruffling your hair as he admires the colourful beads on his wrist.

Jihoon takes a deep breath as he feels your presence draw closer, eyes downcast as you fiddle with one of two bracelets in your hand. “Jihoon-ssi,” your voice is once again timid and shy, and he dislikes it. “I didn’t know what colour you liked, and I noticed your wardrobe is pretty void of colour, so…” You quietly place a simple black and grey beaded bracelet with his name written in lettered beads in the middle on his lap. “I thought it matches your look.”

Jihoon stares at the bracelet, picking it up and examining it between his fingers. He can feel your nerves running through your stomach, fiddling with the remaining bracelet in your hands. After a soft sigh, Jihoon slips the bracelet onto his wrist, cheeks warming at the kind gesture of you still including him.

“It’s perfect.” Jihoon smiles softly to you. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Your cheeks flush as you give him a small smile, turning and making your way towards Chan, who said quietly beside Wonwoo as he ate.

“I saved the best bracelet for last,” you smile to the youngest, sliding the final bracelet onto his wrist delicately.

“What colour is it, Noona?” Chan asks quietly, staring at the beads intently.

“Well,” you begin, sitting down beside him. “I made this with every coloured bead I could think of. It’s a rainbow.”

“Huh?” Chan balked, tilting his head. “Why would you do that? I can’t even see them…”

”I made it this way because then, the day that you meet your soulmate,” you nudge the bracelet, “you will be able to see all the colours of the rainbow straight away.” Your eyes light up with a little smile.

Jihoon’s stomach drops at the sound of hope and joy in your voice that is almost infectious, and he scowls to himself.

“Hannie-Oppa did the same for me, see?” You chirp, holding your hand out and showing Chan your nails, now chipped and slightly overgrown. “He gave me all the colours I could have on my hand, and I wanted to do the same to you.”

“B-but…” Chan takes a quiet breath. “Noona.. wh-what if… what if I meet my soulmate and it doesn’t work out? What if… what if I’m left behind and look like a complete fool?” He stares at his lap, knee bouncing nervously.

Your soulmate feels a twist of discomfort in his gut at the maknae’s question, turning his head to see the same discomfort evident on your face.

“Chan-ah,” you smile softly, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Don’t be silly.”

“B-but you-”

“Uh-uh-uh,” you wiggle your finger at him. “Things like that only happen to people like me, who are just simply unlucky in life.” Jihoon feels the dagger pressing against his chest. “You, little one, are lucky, and I know your soulmate will be absolutely smitten with you when you meet. And, in that impossible scenario,” You bump your shoulder against his, “you’ll always have all of these guys here to spend time with. And even Noona too.” You add on for good measure, smiling sweetly at him. Jihoon feels the dagger twist inside him. Chan shyly smiles back, leaning his head against your shoulder, signaling for you to give him a big side hug, cheek resting against the top of his head.

“Promise I’ll always have you, Noona?”

“Silly boy,” You giggle. “I couldn’t leave you alone, even if I tried.” You ruffle his hair once more, causing him to whine and swat your arm, your giggle growing once more as Jihoon feels his stomach twist and tighten, a million thoughts once again flooding his mind.

“Okay,” Seokmin settles comfortably in his chair, looking around at the circle. “Here’s a question.” He hums quietly at the small group that has formed around him of you, Wonwoo, Jisoo, Jeonghan and Jihoon. “If you could have one wish that could be granted, what would you wish for?” Before anyone can open their mouths, he points aggressively towards Jeonghan. “NO WISHING FOR MORE WISHES!”

“Yah, you’re no fun.” Jeonghan whines, slumping in his chair and crossing his arms.

“I would wish for…” Wonwoo mumbles. “Being able to have enough money in my pocket at all times to be able to afford what I need at that time.”

”That is… oddly specific.” Jisoo chuckles.

“But practical.” Seokmin grins.

“I would wish for Seokminnie to let me answer questions the way I want to.” Jeonghan huffs, shooting him a playful glare as Seokmin gasps loudly, pressing his hand to his chest in shock,

“How dare you!”

”What about you, Goob?” Jisoo nudges your side with a little smile.

“I’d wish soulmates didn’t exist.”

The group falls silent, the air filling with awkward tension as they balk, trying to think of an answer.

“Bug, I…”

“Not for the reason you think.” You mutter, staring into the fire with a dull look on your face. “If soulmate’s didn’t exist, I’d only have divorced parents, not a dead mother and an absent father. If soulmate’s didn’t exist, I’d still be able to go home and see my mother and tell her about how my day went. If soulmate’s didn’t exist, I’d actually be wanted.”

Jihoon feels his heart twist, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he eyes your face. You look empty. Jihoon can’t feel a thing, and that frightens him.

“C’mere.” Jisoo takes your hand delicately, leading you to a small clearing; the same clearing that Jihoon went to the night before.

The little conversations start up again, Jihoon’s ears zeroing in on Jeonghan’s light scolding to Seokmin as to why he’d ask such a ridiculous question. His ears are ringing as your emotionless words echo through his head, making him feel worse than he ever has before.

“Goober…” Jisoo encourages you quietly to speak.

“Remember how you asked me yesterday if I was okay?” Your voice shakes. “If I was broken?”

Jisoo nods slowly, hand resting on your shoulder.

“A-and I said to you I was fine?”

“Mhm…”

“I-I.. I’m not. I’m not okay.” You whimper, bottom lip trembling. “I’m living a good life, I have a job I love, friends and family who care about me, I can-” you hiccup. “I-I can see colour… and I’m fucking broken.”

You let out a loud sob, a heartbroken wail, letting yourself fall into Jisoo’s arms, your face burying into the warmth of his sweater as your arms wrap tightly around him. Jisoo feels his own tears filling his eyes at the sound of your broken cries, your hands gripping the back of his sweater for dear life, as if afraid he would disappear.

”I know, Goob… Don’t worry, I got you. Let it out.”

“Are you sure it’s been resolved?” Jihoon smiles at Ji-ah as they stroll through the street, making their way to Love Letter cafe.

It has been a week since he has returned from Busan with you and the others; the group having been mostly quiet as they recovered from the long weekend of partying and merging back into their daily lives. This is the first time Jihoon has seen his girlfriend, having given her space to get through her emergency. He’s finally happy he is able to have a date with her after being at university all week and catching up on the projects he wasn’t able to do while on the road trip.

“Yes, babe, I’m sure.” Ji-ah smiles back at him. For some reason, though, Jihoon finds the smile uneasy and almost hollow, and he can’t figure out why until a quiet voice cuts his thoughts short.

“Ji-ah?”

He pauses as he sees a tall man in front of him with a single rose in his left hand, right hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Hajoon.” Ji-ah whispers out with a nervous breath, almost like she’s been caught.

Jihoon freezes at the sight in front of him - his not-soulmate with red tinged cheeks and shy smile on her face, and a stranger looking just as shy and sheepish smiling back at her. He feels his stomach drop as his mind flashes with realization at the scene unfolding in front of him.

He knows the look on her face. He has seen that look before with Wonwoo and Mingyu, Junhui and Minghao, and especially with Seungcheol and Jeonghan.

His heart breaks a little, as Jihoon knows in his heart that he’s already lost his girlfriend to her real love, her soulmate.

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#seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #lee jihoon x reader #woozi angst #woozi x reader #lee jihoon angst #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #woozi fluff

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