#but i have lots of fun writing him this way

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch2. you may now kiss the bride!!

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, n have been taking care of your sick mom ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, mild love triangle(s), gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity; btw gojo in this fic is in his early 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 2/x (probably 10)

ᰔ words. 16.8k (i be yappin)

a/n. AHHH thanks very much for 2k followers!! yippeee :”) i had a lot of fun writing this chapter of ihm i feel like there’s a lot of silly but a lot of angsty too and i got to set up a lot of secondary plot lines in this chapter which was fun. i really hope you enjoy!! see ya at the bottom!!

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 (pending)

“Can you chop down that stupid avocado tree of yours already? It keeps dropping its devilish spawn all over my herb garden.”

“Wow. Good afternoon to you too.”

Gojo scratches the back of his head from where he’s opened the front door of his house, standing in his pajamas and you briefly glance down at his bunny slippers before looking back up at him with a ridiculing face before pushing past him into his house.

Gojo’s house is almost the exact mirror of yours, as are most houses in the neighborhood, but it’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it and so you take an indulgent look. A cozy family room to the side, which you see he’s decorated with a coffee table and a loveseat, and the staircase is visible from the entrance. A modest dining table sits where the carpet turns into wood, and you’ve noticed he’s made the effort to place real hardwood on his floors contrary to the laminate in yours. Ok, show off. Your eyes take in the paintings on the wall, and you remember how his house almost looks fake, like in the way he sets up props in open houses he’s showing for clients, as if someone lives here and yet somehow there’s no real living proof of it.

And because it’s pretty much the exact same layout as your house, you know exactly where the pantry room is, and you grab a bunch of Doritos and Pocky from his secret snack drawer.

“Oh yes, go right ahead. Please,” he says sarcastically as he leans against a support pillar near the dining room and watches you stuff your face with his snacks.

“So,” you say, muffled, “did you grab the paperwork?”

“No, I didn’t.” He glances at his watch. “My friend’s a family law lawyer, and he’s gonna be here soon to help us out with the prenup.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh my god, you’re being serious about the prenup? You really think I’m trying to gold dig at the cobwebs of your bank account? How little self respect do you think I have?”

“...do you really want me to answer that questi–”

The doorbell ringing startles you, and you quickly wipe at your face to clear any crumbs before setting the wrappers in your hands onto a bookshelf as you watch Gojo head to the door and open it.

You hear another distinct masculine voice ring in the air as Gojo exchanges pleasantries with him in the form of a handshake and a familiar hug with a few pats on the back, and then the angle Gojo twists his body reveals the man standing outside the door. He’s a bit shorter than Gojo with a lean build, clad in a fiercely formal black suit and tie with polished shoes. His hair is well-kept, short and raven black, and his eyes are sunken with what you can only imagine is fatigue. And it’s kinda hot to you, unfortunately, after years of working the night shift, you’re starting to find dark circles under people’s eyes to be extremely attractive.

“Uh, y/n, this is my friend, Higurama. Hiromi Higurama,” Gojo says, gesturing between the two of you,  “and Hiromi, this is y/n. My obnoxious neighbor. Careful though, if you get too close she’ll bite off your fingers.”

“I’ll bite off a different appendage of yours if you don’t shut the fuck up,” you snarl at him, and Higurama takes a step inside the house to greet you with an outstretched hand. 

“Hi, it’s lovely to meet you,” he says, and you’re a little startled by the politeness, but aptly shake his hand and nod before squawking out a likewise!!

You look past Higurama at Gojo who’s got an eyebrow raised at you, and then your eyes are on Higurama again as you watch him set his briefcase down on the dining table. “Are we ready to discuss?” he asks, brown eyes darting between the two of you. You nod and take a seat across from him, and Gojo first grabs everyone some glasses of water before he takes a seat at the head.

“So,” Higurama starts, “I take it you two are madly in love and would like to enter a marital agreement to declare your affections for one another in the court of law under just circumstances?”

You blink at him. “Y-Yes. Very just circumstances. Nothing shady going on here, we are indeed very madly in love and would like to get married.”

“Why the fuck would you say it like that?” Gojo chirps in but not before sighing. 

“T-The way he asked was really nerve wracking!!” you counter. And then your eyes widen when you look at Higurama again, who has a slightly amused tug to his lips. “...oh, you already know this marriage is a fraud.”

“I was just testing you,” he casually says, “in case they mention any suspicions in court. Seems you should just let Satoru do the talking.”

You pout a little and sink further into your seat, then bring the glass of water up to your lips. 

“Well, in any case,” Higurama says, and then he goes on into the details of what to expect in the courtroom. He pulls out paperwork for the marriage license application and starts to walk the two of you through the prenuptial agreement. 

“It’s my understanding you’re both desiring a prenup for this marriage?” Hugurama asks, brow furrowed slightly as he rustles through the endless papers in front of him that he was drowning in.

You briefly glance at Gojo, who’s also looking through all the papers with a concentrated look on his face, his features tense and he’s slightly worrying his bottom lip through his teeth. He’s thinking way harder about this whole prenup thing than you would, and you realize he’s genuinely taking this very seriously. 

“Um, yes,” you acquiesce, suddenly feeling a little guilty. And you remember who’s the one in need of the favor here. “I’m okay with the prenup.”

Higurama tells you two about the implications of the prenup, what can and cannot be included under state laws, and stresses the importance of full financial disclosure and fairness in the agreement to ensure its enforceability in the event of a divorce. Basically, don’t fucking lie about anything or else you two could sue each other to hell for it should divorce occur. You both agree, and you’re feeling sick to your stomach with anticipation. 

“Alright,” Higurama interjects your thoughts, “I will begin to draft the document then. Let’s start with assets.”

Gojo drones on about his tangibles, intangibles, cash equivalents, stocks, yada yada and you open up with yours too, but you can barely hear anything you’re saying and you can hardly hear what anyone else is saying either because you’re just dreadfully awaiting for Higurama to finally bring up—

“How about debts?” he asks, mindlessly as he types away on his laptop, as if the question doesn’t make you want to throw up. 

Your breathing picks up in speed, and you’re nervously fidgeting your hands over the surface of the table. You glance over at Gojo again, this time startled to find his eyes are on you too. His gaze briefly flickers to the shuffling of your fingers, then it meets yours again as he tilts his head slightly in a silent ask of you good?

“Uh–” you start, when you feel Higurama’s eyes on you too now that the silence has stretched on for too long, “I’m…well, I’m in a bit of…debt. From nursing school, a little bit from undergrad still, actually…”

“Okay,” Higurama says, “how much would you approximate? I’ll need the official loan statements soon, though.”

“Well, I’m paying off slowly…but last month I have around seventy-thousand still to pay off.”

“Alright,” Higurama accepts, “and you, Satoru? Student loans?”

“Oh, I don’t have any,” he says, “I paid them off a while ago.”

You feel like you’re being opened apart at the seams, and suddenly feel ashamed.

“Alright, what about other debts? Credit card debts? Any loans to know about?”

You figured you just needed to rip the bandaid off.

“Um,” you say, “I’m about three hundred thousand dollars in medical debt from my mother’s treatment loans.”

The room goes quiet, there’s no more rustling of papers or the mechanical jumping of keys on a keyboard, hell, even the birds outside stopped chirping to display their disbelief. 

“Wha–” Gojo starts, like he can’t help it, before he catches himself out of politeness, but he’s still looking at you with concern and shock. “y/n…what happened?”

You look over at Higurama too, and he’s completely turned away from the document he was drafting on his laptop, full attention on you, and his brow is creased with the same amount of concern. And you feel like you’re in therapy. You also feel like you’re about to cry.

“Well…it’s just,” you start, throat feeling raw, “my mom couldn’t qualify for medical loans because of years of poor credit, and insufficient income, and her cancer treatments became really costly, and so–” you suck a breath in, because your voice cracks slightly at the end. You were not about to cry in front of them right now. “And so I decided to cosign on her loans so she could receive treatment, and stuff kept coming up, and I had to work reduced hours for a couple of years when she was first diagnosed, and…some payments got away from me, and so then…there was interest, and…it’s…I guess over five years, things just…accumulated.”

They both sit there in stunned silence, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, like they understand your situation is so fucked in its entirety that they can barely even bear to put themselves through the trouble of even imagining themselves in your shoes, let alone fathom that you’re living in them.

Higurama clears his throat and redirects his attention to the computer. “That’s… no problem for the prenup. Thank you for being honest.”

“Hey,” Gojo interjects, and his hand reaches out to lay over your fidgeting hands over the table. His eyes are serious. “Why didn’t you–” he starts, and his face softens slightly when you can’t help the small sheen of tears that reaches your eyes, “...why didn’t you say anything about this? I mean, anytime we’ve talked.”

It’s your turn to look at him with a tense expression, and you slowly withdraw your hands from the hold of his palm to place them in your lap under the table. “Uh, why would I share about my financial woes to my neighbor? Don’t most people just act like shit’s normal with their neighbors?”

“I guess, but I didn’t know it was that ba–”

Higurama’s phone starts to ring, and he glances at the Caller ID before sighing slightly. “Sorry, I have another client I need to see soon. We’ll have to wrap this up, but I’ll continue drafting this document. Please send me your relevant statements for any loans and–” he glances at you, “...associated debts.” He starts to gather his things at the table, then neatly tucks his papers into his briefcase before placing his laptop in there too. He reaches to shake Gojo’s hand first, then shakes yours, and holds onto your hand a second longer to gather your attention. His eyes are almost solemn.

“I truly hope your mother gets better soon,” he says to you, tone contrite. 

You slowly nod and thank him, and then Gojo goes to see him out the door.

The house feels quiet when Gojo closes the front entrance, and he stays facing the door for a few seconds before slowly turning around to face you, back leaning against it as he crosses his arms in front of his chest, and just when he opens his mouth to speak, you cut him off.

“I really–” you say, “...I really don’t want to talk about it.”

His face contorts into confusion, and it looks like he’s about to protest, but you allow yourself to show the slightest amount of the hurt and the worry on your face, and he realizes that means he shouldn’t try to push it.

“Okay,” he says, and quietly. 

Things are awkward in the air for a second, so you waltz over to the window and watch through it as Higurama gets into his car, some type of sleek old black Mercedes Benz but it’s polished to perfection, and you let out a content sigh.

“What?” Gojo asks you, tone a little short. 

“Ohhh, nothing,” you say, bringing your hands up to cup your cheeks to feel their warmth as you take in the image of Higurama’s slender legs in his business attire, “I just…” you sigh again, “I just loooove men in suits. I wish I knew more men that wore them often.”

A beat of silence. “Um. I wear them often?”

You turn on your heel to face him. “Yeah, but you wear them in, like, a slutty way. Higurama,” you say, pointing with your thumb facing the window, “wears them in the actually respectable workplace way. Hence why it’s hotter on him.”

He scoffs. “And yet you’re always staring at my ass from afar when I’m wearing my tailored trousers.” 

“I seriously wonder what it’s like to be so fucking delusional all the time,” you shake your head at him and he looks like he’s got a comeback on his tongue but you sshhhhhhhh him and walk back into the heart of the house. You look over your shoulder briefly, and see Gojo’s standing where you were standing at the window a few seconds ago, looking out onto the street, and he’s grumbling something under his breath you can’t quite hear. And then you hear the sound of Higurama’s car driving away. 

You circle around the dining table, and take a seat to look through the marriage paperwork Higurama left behind for the two of you to fill out.

“Bring the paperwork over to the kitchen island,” you hear Gojo say as he makes his way to the kitchen, “I’ll fix us some coffee.”

The island has a seated side to it with bar stools that raise high and turn in fully 360 degree fashion, so you swirl around in your seat to make yourself dizzy while Gojo brews some coffee with his espresso machine. 

“Mm…smells nice,” you comment, still swirling.

“Milk? Sugar?” he asks you, and you stop swirling to answer him.

It’s not the first time you’ve been to Gojo’s house. When he first moved in next door, you brought him a plate of cookies as a welcome to the neighborhood! gift and he had invited you inside and fixed you a cup of coffee then too. The house was mostly empty back then, he’s made a lot of good work in filling it with furniture in that sort of IKEA catalog fashion, and you can clown on him for it all you want, but it still looks nicer than most homes you’ve been in. Anyways, you only visited him in his house a couple times after that before you realized you hated him. Because he blasts loud music at the most random times, which you’re convinced he’s just trying to show off the sound system he probably spent an unnecessary amount of money on, not to mention an unnecessary amount of time installing. He also always forgets to mow his fucking lawn, and it drives you nuts because then the weeds spread over into your lawn, but it’s not like it matters because you hardly mow yours either, but still. And that fucking boat. That fucking boat he keeps right at the edge of your driveway that taunts you and your ability to pull into garages after every single one of your dreadful night shifts. One of these days, you might just steal it and drive it into the ocean so it drowns. Wait, boats don’t drown. That’s the point of boats. They’re buoyant. It’s okay, you’ll find another way to get rid of it. The boat, you mean. 

“Here you go,” he says, sliding a cup of coffee to you across the island. You peer inside at the brown liquid, and the scent alone awakens your senses.

“So, logistics,” you say.

“Logistics,” he repeats after you as he stirs a spoon in his mug. 

“We need to make this believable,” you say to him, “otherwise the marriage could be invalidated, and we could face criminal charges, and I could lose the insurance benefits for my mom, and potentially get sued by said insurance companies, and get thrown into jail for life, and—”

“And how much sleep have you lost thinking about this?” he asks you with a sigh as he brings his mug up to take a sip. 

“I’m being serious, Satoru,” you say to him, “I…would just rather err on the side of caution. It’s a small town, people talk. And sometimes those people know the law.” You shudder.

“Who the fuck is out there that would be so pissed about us getting married just so you can help out your sick mom?” he asks.

Your eyes flicker downwards slightly in consideration. You can think of one person, at least. And when you look up at him, you’re surprised to see there’s a similar look on his face, as if he could think of a particular one person too. But before you can dwell more on the expression on his face, he grabs the paperwork in front of you and looks through some of it. “You should get started on your paperwork. Higurama filled most of mine out for me already, so you’re the one he’s waiting on.”

You groan and stretch your arm out across the island counter, then lay your head on your upper arm. “Sigh, why couldn’t he have done that for meee tooooo.”

“Probably because he doesn’t know you?” Gojo snorts. He’s silent for a moment as he takes another sip. You can’t see his face. “So,” he starts, “I mean. If we’re going to make this believable, which, to be honest, I don’t think a single person in this neighborhood would find us getting married believable, but still, if we were to try making it believable, wouldn’t it make sense for us to, uh, I don’t know, live together? Like what regular married couples do.”

“I am appalled you would even suggest that.”

“It’s going to look like we’re just faking it if we don’t at least cohabitate together,” he tells you.

“We can’t do that,” you sigh, “I bet you’d try to touch me inappropriately.”

“What???” 

“Yeahhh, I don’t know, you just—...you just seem like a guy with very little self control.”

“...y’know what? This is over. I’m calling off this engagement,” he says, and he walks over to the dining table with his coffee cup in hand and you lift your head up off your arm in a panic.

“Wha–...no!! Wait!!” you say, grabbing all the paperwork off the island and bringing it to the dining table where he’s taken a seat. “Please marry me. I need it so bad.”

“Woah,” he says, looking up at you, and there’s a darker glint to his eyes. “You need it so bad? Can you say that again?”

You curl up the papers in your hands into a makeshift hollow pole and whack him across the head with it. “This is exactly why I think you would touch me inappropriately.”

He grumbles slightly as he nurses the spot you whacked him with two of his fingers rubbing the area, and then he fixes his hair with a comb of his hand through it. The sleeve of his shirt drops a little from the movement, and you can see the muscles of his arm flex, then your eyes are quickly darting away so he doesn’t catch the line of your gaze on him. What the fuck. That was weird. You blame ovulation. 

“Alright, fine,” he says, and he grabs the papers out of your hand, “also don’t bend these. It bothers me.” 

You circle back to the kitchen to grab your abandoned coffee cup, and then bring it to the dining table to sit down with him at it. He places your half of the papers in front of you. You glance down at the first few boxes to fill out, and you already feel like giving up.

You glance up at him for a distraction. “Aren’t you going to ask me how long I want you to be married to me for?” you ask him.

“Uh, how long do you want me to be married to you for?”

“Forever,” you say. To scare him.

“Yeah, right.” He waves his hand in the air dismissively. 

You sulk because it didn’t scare him. “Six months.”

“More plausible.”

“Really,” you say earnestly, “six months.”

He looks up at you now, a curious expression on his face. “Why specifically six months?”

Your eyes find the color of your coffee fascinating once again. “I don’t want to put my mother in hospice for too long. I’ll miss her,” you say, “it’s just…something I’m trying out for now. And to just get a bit of a caretaking break, and also so I can pick up more shifts at the hospital to work on paying off my debt. It’s just…temporary.”

His shoulders roll back once and he sits up a little straighter, holding up one of the pieces of paper to study it better while he clicks his pen. “Alright. Whatever works for you.”

You twiddle with your hands again, blinking a little in consideration as a few moments pass by. “Uh…about living together. That’s fine. I suppose.”

His eyes widen slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah. But no touching,” you point at him with a strict finger.

He tilts his head back up to the ceiling in annoyance. There’s a roll in the muscles of his throat as his jaw goes slack. You squirm in your chair a little. Ovulation, you think. 

“I’m not going to touch you, y/n,” he assures you when his chin tips back down. You just stare at him for a few seconds as he seems to be in thought about something, and then his eyes meet yours. “Whose house are we going to live in?”

“Mine,” you say, “yours looks like a shitty catalog. It’s lame.”

“True,” he says, “yours feels homey. I like that.”

You’re a little taken aback by his words, and then purse your lips together. Your sort of go-to thanks expression reserved for him. “So, are you gonna sell your house then?”

“Huh? No way,” he shakes his head, “I’ll just see if I can rent it out for now.” He shakes his head even more. “I mean, god no, I wouldn’t be caught dead selling a house. Not with these market conditions. You know how much it’s already risen in equity within just the past few months alone? In five years from now—”

While Gojo continues to drone on about the lunacy of not holding onto property in this housing market, your eyes widen slightly at his words, like your body realizes a truth to what he’s saying before your mind does.

And then that’s when it hits you.

How you can help pull yourself out of debt.

You slam your coffee mug down on the table with a little more fierceness than you probably should’ve.

“Hey,” he scolds you, “can you be careful with that?”

“We’re not going to live in my house,” you say, ignoring him, “we’re gonna live in yours.”

“Huh?” he responds, “...but I thought you said mine looks like a catalog.”

“A shitty catalog.”

“Did you need to specify?”

“We’re not going to live in my house,” you tell him, with resolve, “because I’m gonna sell my house.”

He sits up a little straighter at your words. “Like, the house next door?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

He sighs. “Were you even listening to me? It’s so much more worth it to–”

“I don’t care,” you cut him off, “I need the money now. Not five years from now.” Your eyes glance down at your hands, and your tone becomes quiet. “I…I don’t even know if my mom has five years left to live.”

A silence settles in the room, and you see in your periphery that Gojo’s stiff and still, like he’s barely allowing himself to breathe as if you’d find it abrasive, and when you look over at him, his expression is soft.

“I know,” he says. “It sounds like a plan.”

“Will you help me sell it?” you ask him. “I’d…need a realtor.”

“Sure,” he easily agrees.

“Okay…” you say, and take a sip of lukewarm coffee, as if you haven’t just decided on an extremely major life decision. “Um. I’ll go get the paperwork then. From my house.”

“Oh. Right now?” he asks you, and he leans forward in his seat a little to get a closer look at your face. “I mean, don’t you want some time to think about it before putting it on the market? We can wait for a little bit.”

“No. That’s okay,” you say, standing up from your chair, “I’ll…go get the paperwork.”

He nods at you slowly, but his eyes are observant, and you ignore it to keep up the momentum of this decision that was definitely the right decision by all means and one that you should not be hesitating on at all as it is such an epiphany that can help clear your debilitating financial burdens. 

“Drive safe,” he says to you when you grab your purse off the coffee table in the family room.

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

The outside air is breezy, it’s a nice day with the sun shining down and sparkling off of sprinkler dew drops on overgrown grass, and you hop across with a pep in your step as you make it to your house next door. You’re always quiet when opening the door, because you never know when your mom is sleeping or not, and since her bedroom is downstairs, she’s privy to noises. Once you’re inside, you check to make sure she’s sleeping with a small creak open of her door, only to find that she’s sitting on her rocking chair and looking through a box of paintings.

Your heart twists at the sight, and you gently knock the door with your knuckles.

She glances up at you, and you can always tell from just the look in her eyes if she recognizes you or not. Because they’re warm and gentle when she does, but they see right past you to the wall when she doesn’t.

“Hello,” she says, “can I help you?”

You come up to her and kneel down beside her, placing a hand up on the rocking chair arm rest while she looks down at you.

“Hi, mom. It’s me. Your daughter,” you gentle reintroduce yourself. It’s what her neurologist suggested you do anytime she can’t remember you, but it rips away a piece of your soul each time.

Her eyes still see past you, abstract, empty with no feeling as she wraps her head around your words. “I am no one’s mother,” she tells you, tone sounding sharp and like she’s a moment away from terror.

“That’s okay,” you quickly remediate, feeling hollow inside from her words but you always had to be the sane one, so you direct her attention to the box in her lap. “What are you looking at?”

“Oh, I just found these paintings!” she exclaims. “I thought they were wonderful. Do you know who drew them?”

You smile up at her. “You did.”

“Me?” she blinks at you. The wrinkles in her forehead crumple with surprise, “oh, no, dear, I could not paint such things with detail. Look at me!” She holds her hand up. “My hand is trembling!”

She’s getting weaker. You make a mental note to bring it up to her doctor.

“You used to hold a paint brush like it was just an extension of your hand,” you tell her, picking up one of the paintings out of the box, “you were an art teacher, mom.”

“Don’t call me mom,” she says to you, that sharp tone from earlier cutting through to your soul. “I am no one’s mother.” Her eyes shimmer with a light sheen of tears.

You stare at her, brow pinching together with hurt, but you bite back the part of you that wants to beg her to remember you, to take one close look at you, and see you with warmth and not emptiness. But she sees past you all the same.

“Can you do something for me?” you whisper to her.

“Yes?” she asks.

“Could you please lay down? You need some rest.”

“Are you my nurse?” she asks.

You breathe in deep. “Yes.”

“Am I…” she glances briefly at her reflection in the vanity mirror, her eyes flitting up to the head scarf on her head that covers the absence of hair, “am I sick?”

You exhale. “Yes. You need rest.”

“Oh…” she acknowledges, “why, yes. I do feel…a little frail.”

“I know,” you comment, and you put the box down on the floor then help her up onto her feet slowly by holding onto her arm, and you guide her to sit on the bed and take her medications. She then lays down, and you nod at her reassuringly before you head out the door and close it behind you.

Your lip trembles with the threat of a sob as you stare straight forward at the wall in the dimness of the hallway. But a harsh bite to the plush of it ceases the quiver.

You make your way up the stairs to go grab that binder you had with the mortgage and house information, plus some of your recent utility bills. Except the binder is hard to locate, and you’re rummaging through the cabinets in your closet, the drawer of your nightstand, you’re even looking underneath the bed. But when you lift your head up from under it, still kneeling on the carpet, and glance at the wall, you notice something.

48’’ eight yrs. what a big girl! 

46’’ seven yrs. big jump

41’’ six yrs.

37’’ five yrs. my little princess

…

..

–all written in graphite pencil, scribbled up the wall where you would stand tall against as a kid, your mom marking your height at every birthday. And your eyes start to well with tears. 

This was your childhood home. With magical corners tucked away where you used to play hide and seek with your dad, with your old bedroom you used to play in with dolls and have tea parties with all your stuffed animals. There’s still a stain of fruit juice on the carpet underneath the rug that you never told your mom about because you knew she would be mad at you and would scrub it out, but it was in the shape of a heart and when you were a kid, you thought that meant you would find your prince charming some day. This house holds so many memories, like birthday parties and Christmas Eve and the sunflower patch in the backyard where you laid Sniffles to rest.

And it holds the familiarity of you that seems to be slipping through your mother’s fingers with each passing day, all those memories you created with her now solely yours to keep and no longer to share. But you realize at this moment that you’re not alone. This house still holds those memories with you.

Your eyes flicker to the graphite pencil marks on the wall again, and the tears flow freely.

In the moments where she cannot remember that you are her baby, this house remembers for her.

Your sleeve wipes at the dampness on your cheeks.

But it’s never enough, is it? And it’s never that easy, either. Life was never that easy, and you don’t always have the choices you might think you do.

You find the binder, and grab all the utility bills too, and head downstairs. You pass by your mother’s room with softness and sleuth, and guilt in your heart when you realize what you’ve chosen to do. There’s no pep to your step when you make it back to Gojo’s.

•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•

“Sooo,” Gojo says, after about twenty minutes of looking through all the house paperwork in the binder at the dining table, “your mom transferred ownership of the house to you as a gift deed when she was diagnosed?��

“Mhm,” you say.

“She paid off quite a bit of it,” he comments as he looks through banking statements, “but still not enough to pay off your medical debt, unfortunately.”

You sigh. “I know. It was never really a house she could afford anyways. She just received it from the divorce, and I remember we were supposed to downsize, but…she didn’t want to.”

“I see,” Gojo comments, “well, it’s alright, it would still help you a lot for sure. How many years are left for your solar panel lease?” He has a pen in hand and a custom realtor notepad in front of him with his messy handwriting all over it. 

“It’s new,” you say, “still got thirty years left.”

“Jeez, okay. How much per month?”

You scavenge through the bills on your table. “Ummm um um ummm…….”

“You should really…get more organized.”

“You should really mind your fucking business.” You find the bill. “$285 per month.”

“Okay,” he scribbles it down, “does it offset your electricity bill?”

Your shoulders sulk. “A little bit.”

“Yeah, it might scare some buyers away.”

You sigh. “Oh and then the HOA too.”

“HOA?” he looks up at you with a puzzled expression on his face. “We don’t have an HOA in this neighborhood.”

“We don’t?” you blink at him. “Then who have I been sending $195 dollars to every month?”

“…….....you’ve seriously gotta be some special kind of stupid.”

After panicking for five minutes while checking your credit cards for fraudulent activity, Gojo gets done cutting up an apple for you. 

“Here,” he says, sliding the plate to you, “since you look like you’re about to faint. Knowing you, it’s probably just low blood sugar.”

You dramatically sigh and sink in your chair. “I can’t believe I spent the last three years paying an HOA that doesn’t even exist…”

“Hey, on the bright side, there’s some dude out there on an exotic vacation that’s very thrilled by your idiocracy right now.”

You shoot him a look. And then you hang your head low to drink your extremely cold coffee that you were still nursing, before downing it all in one go. Your eyes catch the marriage paperwork that Gojo was reviewing earlier, and you see Higurama’s pre-filled in information that he typed onto the papers before printing them for him. 

“Hm,” you hum, “it says here that you’ve been married before. You might want to get that fixed before we submit these.”

He stands up from the table, two of his fingers hooking onto the handle of his coffee cup, and he glances into yours to make sure it’s empty, briefly flicking his eyes to you and you shake your head for no, no more coffee, thanks before he wraps his other two fingers around the handle of your mug as well. The clink of the two porcelain mugs in his hand startles you a little as he walks past you to the kitchen sink. “There’s nothing to fix about that,” he says, his tone level and easy, “it’s true. I’ve been married before.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, and you quickly twist your torso in your chair to stare at him. Or at least, the back of him as he turns the faucet on and begins to rinse out coffee mugs. 

Married? Before? There are so many questions swimming through your head right now, ones that you desperately want answers to, biggest of all perhaps being now who the fuck would actually want to marry him??? for real??? you’re telling me this self obsessed dork proposed to a real life woman with a pulse and she actually said ‘yes’ to him??? who was this woman, and which psych ward did he find her from??? 

But he’s so quiet from where he stands, broad shoulders less pushed back like they usually are, and something tells you he wouldn’t entertain any of those questions from you right now. A glance at the paperwork, though, tells you the divorce was recent. Less than a year ago. Around the time he moved in next door. 

He still has his back facing you, and you try to sneakily catch a glimpse at more info under the Wife section on the prior marriages form. You can see the paper says maiden name: Inoue and you’re just about to sneak a peak at the first name when—

“You want to stay for dinner?” he asks when he turns around, leaning back against the sink counter. “I’m ordering pizza tonight.”

You’re surprised by the sudden invitation, and shuffle the papers over one another again. “Oh–that’s…that’s okay.” You glance at the clock he has hanging on the wall. “I’ve got work in a couple of hours, so…I should really get going. Have a few errands to run before then.”

“Okay, so, we’ll…talk later?”

“Yeah, later,” you stand up from your chair, and for some reason, the air feels a little heavier to you now. “Uh…” you start, awkwardly scoffing a little, “wow. Bachelor life again, then, huh? Probably just–...probably just beer and pizza every night?”

He purses his lips together, humoring you with a small laugh that comes out as a scoff through his nostrils. “No. Not really. I only order pizza when I close a sale on a house. My way of celebrating.”

“Oh,” you respond, “I see.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he says.

“I live next door,” you remind him.

His eyes widen slightly. “Oh. Right.”

“H-Hope the traffic’s not too bad!” you joke.

His laugh comes more genuine now. “You’re stupid.”

You head towards the door, and when he opens it for you, there’s a chill of air outside and it’s darker now, hues of dark gray, purple and a slight orange still present on the horizon paint the sky and you step outside then turn on your heel to face him.

“Um. Congrats, by the way. On the sale,” you tell him, “enjoy your night. And I’ll see you this weekend?”

“Huh?” He raises an eyebrow. “What’s happening this weekend?”

“We–” you scoff, “we’re getting married this weekend?”

“Oh!” he exclaims, tense, “right, yes, see you this weekend. For marriage. Of us.”

You roll your eyes and make your way down the concrete pavement that leads its way to his house, and leads its way away from it too. And when you walk back to your house, it’s not with a sulk, but it’s not with a pep in your step either. You just feel…neutral.

•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•

“So, tell me about this fake husband of yours,” Hana says, leaning against your work-on-wheels as you attempt to catch up on charting notes with 4 hours and 15 minutes and 53 seconds left on your shift (it’s not like you were counting though).

“Yeah, in a sec,” you mumble as you punch in keys.

6/2/2024 0344: patient placed on 5150 hold on 5/31 at 1745, continually monitored by ED tech. all objects have been removed from pt’s room to prevent any danger to self or others. however patient accessed hand sanitizer dispenser on the wall at roughly 0320 and ingested all the hand sanitizer. notified MD of toxic ingestion, follow up plan is to coordinate care with poison control. no further orders at this time

“Okay, what were you saying?” you look up at Hana again and rub the tired out of your eye with a balled up hand, along with all the mascara. 

“Your fake husband!! Tell me about him!!” she chirps, shaking your work-on-wheels in excitement and the blur of your computer screen makes you feel dizzy.

“Shhhhh,” you hiss at her, “keep your voice down when we discuss illegal activities.”

She rolls her eyes. “Why are you always so paranoid? I’m already sick and tired of you charting incessantly every five seconds to save yourself from medical lawsuits that you haven’t even been accused of.”

“In a medical lawsuit, the chart is the law, Hana,” you say eerily with a shiver, and her words remind you to continue your detailed charting. “Never forget that.”

She sighs. Her gaze travels across to the other end of the emergency department, and you assume she’s staring at the asses of the EMT boys again, so you glance over your shoulder too. 

Except instead, you see the worst person on the planet.

Well, second worst as of right now.

The worst person title was reserved for someone else.

Approaching from down the hall is Yuna, your ex-best friend, a bounce in her step as she walks with a sort of allure as her hips rock side to side, her mile-high ponytail swaying in beat with the rhythm as well, and the ashy blond highlights in her hair hypnotize anyone she waltzes by. 

She was the kind of nurse that all the other nurses are jealous of. Always has cute little accessories and stickers on their badge, is wearing the fancy FIGS scrub sets that hug her sporty curves in all the right places, paired with those little shoes with the ankle socks, and she most definitely gets her water goal in for the day because she’s always sucking on the straw of her periwinkle Stanley cup around the ED all night just like she sucked the cum out of your boyfriend of seven years just twenty-four hours after the two of you had broken up–

“y/n,” she casually calls your name, leaning her elbow up on the cubicle divider of the nursing station. “It’s time for you to take your break. I’ll watch your patients.”

“I’m not taking my break,” you say, trying to relax the grit to your teeth which makes your eye twitch out of frustration instead. “Now get the fuck away from me before I call a Code Black.”

She sighs, rolling her eyes and smacking loudly on her gum. “Yaga said you have to take your thirty tonight. Something about how you haven’t clocked out for a break in more than two months and the hospital could get sued for that.”

“The hospital has way bigger cases they should be biting their nails about getting sued over,” Hana snorts just to butt in on conversation.

“C’mon,” Yuna says, her fingers reaching out to touch the handle of your work-on-wheels, purposefully stretched so that you can eye the perfect sparkly manicure to her nails. You curl your fingers into the skin of your palms to hide your gel polish that’s long started to scrape off. “Go clock out.”

“I’d rather die than listen to a single fucking thing you tell me to do,” you tell her, plain and simple.

“y/n!” a loud masculine voice calls from the other end of the Emergency Department, and all three of you visibly shrink a little in your stances out of fear. Head nurse Yaga. “Take your break, or I’ll be damned to let you set another foot in this hospital!!” he’s yelling at you all the way from the entrance to the CT scanner.

“But–”

“Now!!!!!”

Your eyes flicker to Yuna, who has an amused look on her face and a tilt to her head, and then you’re grumbling before logging out of your computer then stepping away from it. “Draw a CBC & chem on Beds 24 and 28 at 4 AM sharp,” you grumble to her, and she just gives you one of those tight-skinned smiles. 

The break room is empty, with shades of beige on the walls and even more depressing shades of gray on the lockers. There are all sorts of things pasted on the walls, like photos from staff Halloween and Christmas parties, drawings that pediatric patients have made in appreciation of their nurses, and employee information that Yaga’s constantly shoving in everyone’s faces. 

Okay, the backstory with Yuna. Pretty simple. You two had been best friends since high school, like inseparable best friends. Y’know, sneaking out late at night to use fake IDs at the bar, cover for the other when you’re busy losing your virginity to your high school boyfriend in the most dishonorable way possible, rooming together in college, sobbing and crying through all of nursing school together, ride or die type of friendship that you think you’d only find once in a lifetime. Except turns out your best friend, who you’d considered a sister, had eyes for your boyfriend since you started dating him in college, and the second that dickwad dumped you, you catch her sucking him off in the back of his Toyota Camry when you go to pick your stuff up from his place. Yeah, ouch. You lost the two closest people in your life, all in the matter of twenty-four hours, so pardon yourself for being a bit bitter about it. 

But being bitter is the coping mechanism. The real way you feel comes in the form of tears prickling in your eyes and the pain in your throat as you try to swallow away the knot that’s suffocating you from the inside out. A type of loneliness that leaves you stranded even in a room full of people. But at the very least, this room is empty, so no one has to see the crack in your resolve.

There’s no time on a thirty-minute lunch break to have a full mental breakdown, so you sparsely wipe at your tears and head back to your shift.

•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•

If you want to know who actually holds the worst person on the planet title right now, well, you run into him on a Tuesday afternoon while on a grocery run after you just woke up from barely sufficient post night shift sleep. Bitter and drugged by Melatonin was not a state of being you needed to be in right now, but you’re out of orange juice and you’re having Vitamin C withdrawals which warrants a trip to the store. Unfortunately, the town only has one grocery store, which means you were bound to run into pestering ex-boyfriends at least once every full moon. 

“Get the fuck out of my way, Choso,” you snarl at the man who’s walking backwards ahead of your grocery cart, trying to stop you in your tracks so you’d just chill out and listen to him for a second.

“Can you just chill out and listen to me for a second?” he asks you, irritation evident in his voice like you’re being the difficult one here.

“I already told you that I quite literally never want to see your stupid ugly face ever again for as long as I live,” you say, and you ram your grocery cart forward with so much force the metal hits his knees and he doubles over the basket indignantly with a groan.

He seems like he’s had enough of you evading him, so he jams his foot under the wheel to keep you from moving forward, and you’re scowling at him and struggling against his foot-stop but to no avail. 

You briefly consider abandoning your cart all together and just bee-lining for the exit, but he’s a cop, so he’d easily be able to tackle you to the ground if you tried.

“What do you want?” you snarl, impatiently tapping your foot with every miserable passing second spent in his presence. 

“I just–” He sighs, “I just want to talk. And to know how you’re doing. You won’t pick up any of my calls.”

“Huh?” You blink at him. “I’ve had you blocked for the past two weeks. You shouldn’t even be able to call me.”

His eyebrows raise. “Really?...who have I been dialing then?” 

“Fuck if I know,” you shrug, and you use his moment of confusion to swerve your cart off to the side and make your way down the refrigerator aisle. Ohhh, dulce de leche gelato sounds nice, and it’s on sale. You grab a jar. 

Choso’s trailing behind you as you eye price tags and sale signs in the open chill of the yogurt section. “Babe–”

“Don’t–” you immediately cut him off, spinning fast on your heel and he stops himself just in time from crashing right into you. You hold your index finger up in the air between the two of you with a clench to your jaw so tight it feels sore, and through gritted teeth you say, “don’t call me babe.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry. It’s habit.”

Indeed, habit. Seven years of him calling you babe, or baby, or boobie (idk don’t ask). Your favorite though? Babydoll. He’d always call you that when he’d make sweet, sweet love to you while you were wearing his favorite flimsy little piece of lingerie–babydolls. Even now, the memories have your cheeks feeling hot. But he doesn’t get to call you babe anymore, and he doesn’t get to fuck you anymore, or talk to you anymore, or breathe in your general direction anymore, because he betrayed you. He wasted your time, and then he betrayed you.

Seven years of your sexual prime, where you could’ve been fucking hunky firefighters and bisexual Europeans, wasted on a man you weren’t even going to marry in the end anyways. Now you’re pushing thirty, and the idea of having to date again makes your skin crawl with anxiety that turns into fury because your doom is all caused by the man in front of you.

Whatever, forget about the sex and the impending loss of a woman’s novelty within society for a second. You loved him. A part of you still loves him. You wanted to marry this man. You thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with this man. Little sheriff deputy’s wife, Mrs. Kamo, the perfect number of letters to get on a bejeweled license plate. You had envisioned all the cute little quotes of adoration that would be imprinted on your wedding reception’s custom-made doily napkins with everyone that’s ever meant anything to you sitting at the table, ready to celebrate the love that you thought was real and true and brave and strong and one that would last forever.

But he abandoned you when you were at your lowest. And he fell into the arms of the one person you thought you could turn to crying when the relationship crashed and burned in the first place. And the problem with living in a small town is that everyone knows everybody’s business, so now you’re just the woman that wasted her youth on a man that played her like a broken fiddle. Utterly heartbroken, and humiliated. 

So, yeah, he doesn’t get to call you babe anymore.

“Listen here, asshole,” you say, stabbing him in the chest with your finger, so he can feel even a fraction of the pain you’ve felt in the past three weeks, “I couldn't care less if you live today, or die tomorrow. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave me alone. Or I’ll file for a restraining order.”

“Really?” he says, brows pulled tight together in disbelief, like he just can’t understand what he’s done to make you act this way, and quite frankly, that only makes it sting even worse, “after everything we’ve been through, you’re just going to throw away the past seven years?”

“What the fuck are you saying?!” you all but snap at him, and an elderly couple that’s passing by flinches a little from the noise and you wince in apology before glaring at Choso again. Your voice is hushed this time. “You’re the one that broke up with me, but I’m the one that’s throwing it all away??”

He purses his lips together, and you notice how dark the circles under his eyes are. He shuts them tightly and leans back away from you, which makes you realize how much he was leaning into your space just a second ago. “I know that we…aren’t dating anymore. But, I mean, c’mon, y/n, it’s me. Just because we’re not together anymore, doesn’t mean that I don’t still…care. I want to know how your mom’s doing, and how treatment has been for her, and–” he glances up at the ceiling briefly, as if to mislead you into thinking that the next thing he says is just as nonchalantly desired as the other things he listed, “and I want to know how you’re doing, too.”

“You don’t deserve to know how I’m doing. Continue to wallow in your pathetic self righteousness, or go run with your tail between your legs to that two-faced rat I used to call a best friend. Either way, I don’t give a damn,” you say, in a way that very much sounds like you give a damn unfortunately, and spin on your heel to continue pushing your cart down to the juice section.

“Yuna and I–” you hear him say behind you, and just the mention of her name on his tongue makes your heart ache in your chest, to the point you need to place a flat palm over it just to alleviate the pain, “I–...I broke things off with her yesterday.”

Fuck. Pretend like you’re not fazed by that info. Pretend like you’re not fazed by that info.

“Okay? Whatever,” you barely manage to say.

He’s silent for a moment behind you. The wheels of your cart squeak as they roll. 

“I mean, we’re not together anymore. I’m not seeing her anymore,” he clarifies, as if he didn’t believe you heard him right the first time.

“Cool,” you comment, tone colder this time, since you had the practice round. 

“You don’t–” Choso starts, a rattle of hurt and confusion in his voice, “you don’t care about that?”

“Nope.” 

He reaches out to grab your wrist, and the contact burns through your skin, like something so familiar yet so foreign. You turn your head to look at him. 

“I…” he starts, and you can see his chest rising and falling with more intensity. Oh god. Please. Please don’t say it. You’re not sure you can handle hearing it. “I really miss you.”

Damn it, he said it.

Your posture relaxes slightly when you take a long look at him. You finally notice his hair has gotten longer in just the three weeks you’ve been apart, layered locks curling at the end of his neck, and it’s the first time you’ve noticed such a small detail because you were so used to spending everyday with him. He spent most of the week at your house, since the two of you could never formally move in with one another after your mother was diagnosed and it was easier for him to come by to yours so you could continue to keep an eye on her. There’s no option to live on your own and start your own life when you’re taking care of someone sick. They become your priority, not yourself, but you’d still make every single sacrifice you’ve made for your mother over and over again in a heartbeat if you had to relive the past five years. 

But that meant that you never had a real and true chance to live the life that you wanted with Choso. A place just for the two of you, lived in intimate solitude and not with the cries of your mother down the hall when she feels too sick to get up out of bed or when she cannot remember her own name. But you had never been this far apart from him to where you notice his hair is an inch longer than it was the last time you saw him. He was never that far away, as he is now. And you’ve just now realized it.  

“I don’t,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat and your voice quivers ever so slightly when you speak, “I don’t care that you miss me.” You take a deep breath. “I’m getting married this weekend.”

His face entirely relaxes, like a calm before the storm, before it twists with so much confusion and incredulity and shock and–was that horror on his face?

“What?” he practically spats out, “it’s only been three weeks since we broke up!”

“Uhh,” you glance up at the ceiling of the store, just in time for an employee to make an announcement on the overhead for a manager at checkout lane 2 please, and then you glance back down at him, “I was having an affair while we were dating.” An easy lie. 

He scowls. “Yeah fucking right. There’s no way you’d cheat on me.”

His words burn bitter. The fact that he couldn’t even fathom you hurting him the same way he hurt you makes you clench your teeth. Because he knew you were better than he was, and that you were too good for him, and yet he still wasted your honor.

His friends, who used to be yours too, have probably fed him lies since the breakup. Like it’s okay, man. You broke up with her before you got involved with someone else. You didn’t do anything wrong.

But you say bullshit to all of that. Because after seven years of being together, you can’t just cold turkey a relationship like that to sleep with someone else, and then claim it’s not cheating. Technicalities like that were no vindication if the betrayal hurt all the same in the end. Because it still felt like you got cheated on regardless.

“Whatever. I don’t need to explain myself to you,” you tell him, “I’m getting married this weekend, so I really don’t give a damn about anything between us anymore. It’s over.”

“Who are you marrying?” he asks, suddenly breaking a sweat over the news like he’s starting to suspect you’re actually being serious.

“My neighbor.”

His face twists with disgust. “Old man Jenkins? He’s eighty-four years old.”

You roll your eyes. “Not the one on my left, you idiot. My neighbor to my right.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up in a ridiculing smirk, and the sight of it makes your skin crawl. He scoffs. “There’s no way. You hate that guy.”

“It’s true. I’m marrying him.”

“Seriously??” He guffaws at you, leaning in closer to you and you lean away until your back is resting on the handle of your shopping cart. “The obnoxious realtor I once heard you talking in your sleep about how much you want to murder him and then dump him in a lake?”

“What?! I talk in my sleep?!” you gasp.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. You have for years.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that?!”

He looks annoyed. “Because you’re such a hypochondriac. You would’ve thought you had a brain tumor or something, and I’d have to deal with the paranoia that follows suit.”

“Choso,” you say to him with a strict tone, jutting your hip out to the side in preparation to scold, “my mother has Alzheimer’s, which is genetic, and I was having an abnormal neurological symptom for years which has studies to show is an early indication of dementia and you just chose not to tell me because you didn’t want to be annoyed?!”

“See?” he gestures to you, “you’re doing it right now. How did we go from just sleep talking to ‘I might have dementia’?” 

“We,” you point between you and him, “are never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever getting back together. If there’s one thing you can pull through that stupid skull of yours, make it that.”

“Excuse me,” you hear a tiny voice squeak out, and you turn to your right to see a little kid trying to push past the two of you to grab a box of GoGurt in the Yogurt section. You move your cart forward by bumping it with your butt to get out of the kid’s way, and Choso circles around to the front of your cart before you start moving forward again. Like he’s literally stopping you from moving on from him. 

“You’re lying about marrying this guy,” Choso says like it’s a fact. In typical cop gaslighting fashion. “You’re just saying that to make me jealous.”

You roll your eyes. “No. I’m just that hot and gorgeous that I made a man fall in love with me in three weeks.”

“He’s in love with you?” he asks.

“Duh, he wants to marry me. When you dumped me, I found comforting solace in my next-door-neighbor, and we fell into bed with one another, and now he feels the obligation to provide for me for the rest of my life. What’s so hard to believe about that? You didn’t find abrupt matrimony odd when we binged all three seasons of Bridgerton two months ago.”

“That show is set in the fuckin’ regency era,” he hisses at you, “look around. There’s plastic bags of Hot Cheetos with Red 40 in them everywhere. Does this look like the 1800s to you?”

You have to be careful with him. He’s a cop, who could arrest you for medical insurance fraud, and would also have a personal vendetta against your marriage because boo hoo he misses you. But yes, he was right, you did want to make him jealous, and you just can’t help it.

“Well, me and him have a love that no one else can understand, so suck it. I’m marrying him, and he’s super into me, and he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with me, and he desperately wants to put babies in me, and–”

“And where’s the ring he gave you, then?”

Fuck. You briefly flick your gaze down to your left hand and note the daunting absence of a shiny diamond on your ring finger. Note to self, Gojo needs to buy you a ring.

“I left it at home,” you mumble.

“Uh-huh, as all newly engaged women who have been waiting for a ring all their life would do.”

That pisses you off. Because you were waiting your whole life for him to put a ring on your finger, and he never did. 

“Go fuck a fleshlight,” you snarl at him, unfortunately in earshot of the GoGurt kid and his mom shoots you a nasty look, but you’re a jaded woman after everything you’ve been through and you ram your cart into Choso so hard you swear you could’ve cracked his knee caps, and he doubles over in enough pain for you to have the time to leave him stranded there as you push your cart all the way to the end of the store. 

You finally make it to the orange juice section, the one thing you needed, although your cart is filled with things you didn’t need, because that’s always how these grocery runs go. You try to take a few breaths to calm down the fast beating in your heart after that confrontation with Choso. You’re not good with confrontation, even though it might seem like you are, but you’re just putting on a face. Acting strong, when really all you want to do is curl up into a ball and cry. But there are bills to pay, and images to upkeep, and orange juice to replenish. 

Your hand reaches out for the handle on the refrigerator door, but just before you curl your fingers around it, another hand beats you to it. It’s a large and masculine hand, with veins disappearing into the cuffed felted fabric of a suit jacket, and the knuckles turn a shade lighter than the olive skin around them when the fingers flex around the handle. 

You glance up at the person standing next to you, who you register towers over you in height. He has long, sleek black hair that shimmers under fluorescent lighting, some of which is tied up and out of his face, while the rest cascades over his back. But there’s tendrils of hair falling over the left side of his face, barely distracting you through the intensity of purple in his eyes when he glances at you.

“Ah, apologies,” he says, and the way he speaks is so calm and gentle, different from the intimidating aura he holds himself with. He retreats his hand from the handle.

“Oh, that’s–” you find yourself stuttering, “...that’s okay.” You grab the handle and open it, the chill rush of the fridge hitting you as your eyes peruse the selection of orange juice cartons while his eyes remain on you. You awkwardly glance at him again. “Sorry, d-did you also need to get orange juice?”

He nods. “Yes, I did.”

Not a man of many words, you think to yourself. Or maybe just around people he’s just met.

Your eyes catch the familiar labeling of your go-to orange juice, the one with no pulp and has added Vitamins D and E (basically the one for children), but you realize there’s only one left. You grab it anyway and put it in your cart. When you glance up at the handsome stranger beside you, there’s a slight look of amusement on his face.

“Seems we both have the same taste in orange juice,” he comments. 

“Oh no,” you say with a small laugh, “I’m sorry. It’s the last one.” Your eyes widen. “You–…you can have it, if you want–”

“Oh, no, no,” he shakes his head, long hair swaying with the motion as he holds his hands up in front of himself, “please. I will just find a nearby store.”

You tilt your head. “Oh there’s no other stores nearby…unless you get on the highway for at least twenty minutes. It’s a…small town.”

His lax expression finally cracks into one of subtle surprise. “That’s interesting.”

“Are you…new to town?” you ask.

He nods with a small smile on his face. “Indeed. Well, just visiting. I’m from New York.”

“Oh! Wow, that’s a long way from here.” You briefly register that he does look like a city man. Upscale restaurants, skyline views, premium outlets. The subtle fragrance of his cologne smells expensive too. “What are you up to while visiting?” You mentally facepalm yourself for asking personal questions, but he seems mysterious and you like peeling the layers back on people like him.

His expression drops, turning almost solemn and his eye contact that was previously very direct is suddenly averted elsewhere, “Just…visiting some old friends.” There is no elaboration.

“Ahh…I see,” you say, picking up on the hint that he has no more words to give you. “Well…I’ll be taking the orange juice…maybe try one with pulp?” you suggest a little cheekily. 

His lips tug upwards in a lopsided smile, one you’d call a smirk if you weren’t so mesmerized to define it as one, “I’ll think about it.”

You hum slightly in polite acknowledgement of him, then push your cart back towards the heart of the store without a word of goodbye.

Odd stranger, who’s good at giving misleading answers. You wonder what life he’s come here to escape. 

•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•

It’s a bright, picturesque Sunday morning, with children laughing and squealing out on the streets in front of your house as they ride their scooters up hot pavement while their parents catch up on PTA drama on the lawns. You’re standing in front of your full length mirror, trying on dress #3 for your little meeting with the courthouse today. And by little meeting, you mean your wedding. You’re getting married today.

The dress you have on falls to below your knees and has buttons all the way from the hem right up to the base of your neck, where the collared neckline wraps around you like a noose. Suffocating, way too prim and proper, although it’d make your grandma very happy and adored to see you should you show up to church service in it. 

Your bed is cluttered with clothes you’ve thrown across it as you try to find a good dress. Your hands move with impatience as you skim through the rack of your closet for another dress to try on, since you’re starting to push the time a little too much. You’ve only got ten minutes before you need to leave. 

A dress tucked in the corner of your closet catches your eye and you pull it out. It’s a cream-colored milk maid dress with an underskirt to puff out the A-line silhouette, length down to your shins that would be oh-so-flattering with a cute pair of heels. There are small red flowers adorning the pattern, with tiny green leaf details as well. It was cute and sweet and feminine, something you haven’t worn in a long time unlike your usual monotonous hospital scrubs, stained sweatpants and adult onesies.

It was the dress your friend Sana convinced you to buy when you thought you were going to get engaged. In the first two years of your relationship with Choso, you two talked about marriage non-stop. You both had just graduated college when you first started dating, and it felt like your lives were finally starting. At the end of the second year you two had been together for, after Christmas dinner with your family, he pulled you into his arms and you squealed with glee as he spinned you around in your childhood bedroom upstairs and told you how much he wanted to marry you, and that he was going to propose in the new year.

Your mother was diagnosed with cancer in January, and he never brought up marriage ever again. 

He still stayed with you for five years after that though, and swiftly dodged every single question you ever asked him about his impending proposal. For five years, you were fed every excuse in the book. And in hindsight, you feel like an idiot for staying, and for still holding out hope, when what you were really holding onto was heartbreak. The feeling of not being enough, like someone was just tolerating you, and not loving you. It was easy to ignore at times, given how occupied you were with driving your mother to chemotherapy appointments and reading up on books about which diet works best to slow down the development of Alzheimer’s because your mother started showing signs of dementia just two months after the cancer diagnosis. But in those moments of freedom, where you had a moment to breathe, all you could breathe was a suffocating smoke. Because you stopped feeling wanted or loved in between all of it.

But there was a trip he planned for the two of you to Greece. It was after your mother had first successfully gotten into remission. A gasp of fresh air amongst all the pain and suffering, and you could only assume that he wanted to celebrate by taking you on a trip. Sana was convinced he was going to propose to you on this trip, and you wondered if maybe he was just waiting until your mother felt better before he proposed so that the two of you could enjoy being newly engaged without the pressure or worry. Sana took you shopping, and you bought this dress, one that clings to your form in a way that made you feel beautiful. Made you feel wanted. Made you feel worthy of being loved. Because all other parts of yourself had been overlooked and paid no attention, but you thought a dress could save you. 

He never proposed. You left Greece with an extra suitcase of souvenirs, but without a ring on your finger or even a compliment on how beautiful you should’ve looked to him standing there on that beach with this cream-colored dress on, arm wrapped around his. And it was at that point you became numb, and you existed in limbo for the remaining four years of your relationship. Until he finally did what you silently begged him to do, with every sullen look in your eyes when you glanced at him. Maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, what he did to you. Something you willed him into because you didn’t have the strength to leave, and so he had to.

You hold the dress up to your form in the mirror. It’d still fit you, and it’s far too pretty to have only worn once. But you’ve been numb for so long now, you don’t even remember what it’s like to feel pretty in a dress. You unbutton yourself out of dress #3 and step into failed proposal dress #4, and as you slowly zip up the back of the dress, you’re met with resistance. 

Fuck.

The last thing you need right now is a weight-related meltdown.

You tug up on the zipper even more, harshly, to the point you hear a stitch rip and you gasp and try to do it slowly so as not to completely tear the dress apart. But it’s not fitting. It should fit. You just assume the zip is stuck, or it’s too rigid after years of no wear.

You’re about to do another colossal yank upwards that could potentially dislocate your shoulder when you jump at the sound of your phone chiming with a notification. And then multiple.

“What...the hell…do you want…” you sigh to nobody, swiping your hands across the pile of dress fabric on your bed to find your phone, and when you do, you quickly tap on the screen to see the messages.

|| 11:32AM neighbor (avocado tree): Hey, are we still getting married today?

First of all, wild fucking thing to nonchalantly ask.

|| 11:32AM neighbor (avocado tree): Your car’s still parked out front, so I wasn’t sure if you’ve left yet. I was just about to leave, and then the thought occurred to me that we should probably carpool?

|| 11:35AM neighbor (avocado tree): But just wanted to verify, are you sure you want to go through with this? You’re not having cold feet? Won’t be a runaway bride? I’m not gonna be left at the altar, wondering where I went wrong?

You roll your eyes, breathing heavily still from the struggle of zipping up your dress.

|| 11:36AM You: yes, we are still getting married. I just can’t zip up my dress for the life of me 

It takes him a whole minute to respond.

|| 11:38AM neighbor (avocado tree): Do you need help?

You blink at your phone screen. Help? What kind of help? Helping you zip up your dress?

You look over your shoulder to the full length mirror, eyeing your back. The dress was zipped up to just above the small of your back, with the rest of it flayed open to reveal the expanse of your skin. Setting your phone down, you roll your shoulders back once and flex your fingers to try again in securing this dress, but to no avail. You curse yourself for not having the flexibility, and to be honest, you’re not even sure if you can take the dress off anymore to get into something else with the way the zipper won’t budge neither up nor down. Well. You’re just going to have to wear this dress for the rest of your life now. A scary predicament.

You pick your phone up again.

|| 11:41AM You: yes

It only takes about two minutes for him to text you that he’s at your front door, a surprisingly considerate gesture considering your mother is sleeping downstairs so it’s good he didn’t ring the doorbell, and you tiptoe your way down and over the creaky floorboards of the stairs to the front entrance. 

You slowly crack the door open only a couple inches, hiding yourself from him behind it as you peek at him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he says, and he glances at his watch. “We’ve got to hurry.”

You nod, and take note of his appearance. He’s wearing a dark fitted navy suit over a white dress shirt, which to your surprise, doesn’t have the top two buttons sluttily undone for once. His suit pants are perfectly tailored to his ankles and you can barely see the exposed fabric of black socks before they disappear into his polished Oxfords. He looks like he’s going to a wedding. Oh wait, he is. 

He raises an eyebrow at you when you refuse to reveal yourself by stepping away from behind the door. Even his hair is particularly kept and proper, swept off to the side slightly in a way that makes him look younger and you feel nervous from the intensity of those eyes, which are usually somewhat hidden by the fringe of his snowy hair, now look at you unwaveringly with no obstruction. You feel like you’re seeing him in a completely new light, and for some reason, it makes you cower behind the door even more. 

“Uh, are you going to let me in?” he asks you, his foot tapping lightly on the welcome! mat. 

“Yes,” you say, but you make no movement to prove your word. 

“y/n,” he says, “we need to get going.”

You sigh, tapping your fingers against the stained glass window of your front door to release some nerves before hesitantly stepping to the side and pulling the door open all the way, then you’re standing in front of him in full view. You catch a glimpse of the black tie hanging from his neck that’s secured all the way up to the collar of his shirt, before you finally look at his face.

Those striking eyes of his round slowly until he’s looking at you wide-eyed, blinking in some sort of dazed surprise as his gaze eventually sweeps down your entire form to take in the sight of you standing barefoot on wooden floor in your cream-colored dress, and you swear you see the muscles in his jaw jump. His brow furrows like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“You–” he starts, that shocked blinking still taking place on his face, and you grasp the fabric of your dress in front of you from the anticipation of what he’ll say, “...you look beautiful.”

A silence settles between the two of you as he continues to roam his eyes all down you like there’s nothing that could stop him from doing it, and you feel heat in your cheeks from his compliment. It’s just a silly little cream-colored dress. One that didn’t look pretty on a beach in Greece, so why would it look beautiful on you  here right now? While you’re standing at the dusty front entrance of a decades old house? He’s bullshitting you.

“You know you don’t have to compliment me, you know that, right?” you squeak out, trying to keep your tone level and easy to fight back the raw feeling in your throat, “this isn’t a first look. There are no photographers around to capture your reaction. We’re not actually getting married.”

“But–” 

“Can you just help me with the dress?” you cut him off so he doesn’t say anything else that makes you feel pretty right now.

“...sure,” he agrees, and he steps inside your house. You start to walk upstairs, and he follows suit, and you suddenly feel his eyes on your back so you turn around and walk up the stairs backwards while facing him.

“I don’t understand the concept of first looks anyway,” he says out of nowhere to cut the silence, “isn’t it a bad omen to see your partner before getting married?”

“That’s such an outdated superstition,” you tell him as your feet finally press firmly flat at the top of the stairs. 

One of his feet is placed next to where you’re standing up straight at the top, while the other is still on the third step down. And it’s like he’s kneeling on one knee in front of you as he looks up at you. After a moment of deep breathing on your part, you finally step away from the top of the stairs so he can finish walking up them too.

“I don’t know what happened,” you say to him as you make it to the front of your full length mirror, “I was just trying to zip it up but it got stuck. And it’s not unzipping either.”

He comes up behind you, and you can see in the mirror that he’s put a decent amount of space between the two of you from the way his arms are reached out in front of him just to access the zipper. He tugs up on it.

“Hm. It…” he struggles with it, “it seems…” he yanks again, “jammed?”

“Fudge,” you mutter under your breath (more ladylike perhaps, as opposed to fuck) and you sulk your shoulders. “But will it close at all, do you think?”

He takes a step closer to you, and his cologne has the fragrance of woody oak with undertones of citrus, like something expensive and sophisticated. His hand sweeps your hair off to the side and over your shoulder to the front so he has a better view, fingers brushing against the nape of your neck from the motion and you try to fight the shiver. A glance to the mirror, and you see his eyes are set on the exposed skin. He tugs to pull your dress together, and is able to cross the fabrics. “Yeah, it should. I think just hold your breath for a second? I’m going to try to see if zipping it down helps unjam it.” 

“Okay,” you say softly, and he eyes you in the mirror at the sudden subservience. 

You try to hold your breath as he tugs down on the zipper, and you hear the metallic click when he succeeds in unjamming it before he zips it down just an inch. You can feel the small of your back exposed to cool air from the motion. 

He’s suddenly frozen entirely behind you, the knuckle of his index finger brushing against your skin as he continues to pinch the zipper between it and his thumb. You feel his slow exhale on the back of your neck. You’re too scared to look at his expression in the mirror.

“Sa–” you stutter through a gasp, “Satoru.”

“Sorry,” he says quietly, and then he’s shifting on his feet once before slowly attempting to zip the dress up. 

He’s met with a slight resistance just underneath your shoulder blades. “Hey. Just hold your breath.”

“I’m trying to,” you tell him, almost whining, because it’s hard to stop breathing when your heart is beating fast and it needs the oxygen supply.

“Do you want to try on a different dress?” he asks you.

“No,” you immediately answer him. You’re not sure why, but the idea of wearing this dress for the rest of your life doesn’t scare you anymore. In fact, you never want to take it off.

Your hands twiddle with the flimsy string at your collarbone that you tied to connect the fabric across your chest, and then you realize. “Oh…maybe I need to–” you tug at the end of the string, “undo this? That might make it looser?” You finally glance at the mirror to seek his approval of your suggestion.

His eyes meet yours, and when he sees what you’re referring to, his eyes widen. “But that would–”

“Just don’t look,” you say simply.

You two remain looking at one another in the mirror, and you see his chest heaving slightly through the tightening of his dress shirt against the expansion of his breathing. Like you’re asking the impossible of him.

“Or I’ll kill you,” you say.

He sighs, and his eyes flit down to your zipper again. You swear you feel his hand tremble slightly. “Alright.”

You pull on the end of the string, watching him in the mirror to make sure his eyes don’t wander, and the fabric covering your breasts falls open, but you use a hand to still sparsely cover your skin with the cloth where you can. In the reflection, you see his jaw clench but his eyes remain on the zipper, and only briefly flicker to the bed once. Then he’s zipping up your dress with ease. 

You quickly tie the string above your chest once more to cover yourself up, and then spin to face the mirror, petting down the fabric of your dress and throwing your hair back over your shoulder. It was a snug fit, but at least it still fit. 

He’s a step behind you with his hands shoved in his suit pockets, looking at your face with a slight tilt to his head like he’s studying you in the mirror just as much as you’re studying yourself. And then he pulls his hand out of his pocket to glance at his watch again. “It’s almost noon,” he says. 

“What?!” you bark at him. “We’re fucking late!!! Why didn’t you say anything?!?!”

“Huh??” he baffles. “I’ve been trying to tell you we need to rush this entire time.”

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you say, pacing your room to find your things in a scurry, picking your purse up and then grabbing your Manila folder of paperwork from your desk, and you try to walk past him to the door when you trip over the five pairs of shoes that you had been trying on earlier, almost twisting your ankle, and you gasp then grab onto his suit jacket for purchase before his arm attempts to reach out to hold you upright but to no avail since you tug on him as you fall straight backwards onto your bed and bring him down with you. 

His hands sink into the soft mattress on both sides of your head, wrists tickled by your hair, as he hovers over you, and your fingers quickly curl into little balls at your chest as you shrink underneath him, looking up at his surprised expression, likely from having to suddenly brace himself from falling right on top of you.

You both look at each other, blinking as you come down from the sudden chaos, and his tie that’s hanging from his neck brushes against your knuckle and falls over your hand to graze the skin above your breasts. His eyes briefly flicker to the sight, and he catches himself only to stare at your lips instead.

Even through thick layers of fabric, you can see the thick curves of the muscles in his arms, pulled taut from how he’s holding himself up over you. And for once, you wish the buttons of his shirt were undone, so you can see what he’s hiding underneath. The hair he had swept up above his eyes now falls freely with gravity, soft tufts that dangle above you and shadow over the blue of his eyes as he looks at you with a furrowed brow that–...that makes him look handsome. 

You must be ovulating.

No, wait, you finished ovulating a couple days ago.

Oh god.

Was your next door neighbor hot this entire time?

There was simply no way. 

You refuse to believe it.

You’re laying still like a deer in highlights, motionless underneath him, before he curls his arm around your waist to bring you up with him as he stands up straight, and you only spend a moment pressed up against him before you get yourself out of his grasp by pushing flat palms against his chest, and then the two of you are in proper distance from one another once again.

“D-Don’t ever do something like that ever again,” you stutter, shimmying your hips slightly to pull the snug fabric down your waist from where it had risen up.

“I didn’t do anything,” he grumbles, and he runs a hand through his hair. Now it looks like it always does, no longer prim in style.

“Whatever, let’s just go.” You slip your feet into one of the pairs of heels sprawled across on the floor, and then you head straight for the door. “You drive.”

You hear him sigh behind you. “Yes ma’am.”

•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•

The courthouse is bustling with people when you two arrive but Gojo’s pleasantly able to pull into an open curbside parking spot right in front of the entrance. You’re surprised when he comes around to the passenger side to open the door for you, and you swat his hand away when he offers it to you too, but you probably should’ve taken it, since you almost twist your ankle for the second time today as you step out onto the curb and get used to walking in heels again like a newborn fawn.

“Should’ve taken my hand,” he says to you, smile turned upwards into a smirk as he watches you struggle while he’s a few steps ahead of you.

“Give it to me then,” you grit through your teeth as you wobble, giving up your pride to avoid adding yet another medical bill to the list of debts in your name.

“Nah,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets, “too late. Lost your chance.” You curse his entire lineage in your head.

You two make it inside the courtroom, and the first person you look for is Hana, whose head you catch at the front row much to your pleasant surprise since she is your sole witness to sign on the marriage certificate today. But in your study of the room to find her, you notice that there are a lot of other people in here as well.

“Don’t tell me…Did you invite people??” you ask Gojo, grabbing onto his sleeve to get his attention and also for balance, but he doesn’t need to know that latter part.

He glances down at you. “No? Why would I invite people to my fake wedding?”

Your eyes peruse the room once again, and you realize that most of them are just old retired people with nothing better to do on a Sunday than visit the courtroom. Some are elderly couples, eyeing you and Gojo as you two make your way down the aisle with sweetness in their eyes like awwwwwww to be a young couple in love once more <3 while they wait for the judge to call on their hundreds of unpaid parking tickets because they don’t know how to access an internet portal.

“D-Do you have the marriage license?” you squeak out to Gojo, who has now adjusted his walking speed to match yours.

“No, I left it at home,” he tells you in a flat tone. “Of course I brought the marriage license.”

“I was just checking, jeez…” you grumble.

Gojo hands the clerk the folder he was holding in his hand, and you hand in yours too.

Oh god. Your peripheral vision already recognizes him before your brain can, but you see an extremely familiar silhouette standing guard off to the side of the Judge’s bench, and your gaze immediately snaps in that direction.

Choso stands there, in his Sheriff Deputy’s uniform, his thumbs tucked into his vest as he puffs his chest out in assertion of his oh so important duty securing the courthouse on a Summer Sunday from any devastating danger, such as an elderly man not wanting to pay a parking ticket and then proceeding to charge towards the judge at 2 MPH, and you can’t help but roll your eyes from his attitude and scowl at him. Of course he pulled some strings and saw when you were getting allegedly married and decided to show up on that exact day. Whatever. You’ll pay him no mind. As long as he doesn’t speak now.

You and Gojo walk back to the lower desk in front of the Judge’s Bench.

“Ah! y/n, hello my dear, how are you?” the judge calls out to you.

“Hi Judge Jun,” you say meekly with a small wave, your voice echoing in the room, “good, and yourself?”

6/4/2024 1232: Judge Jun is a 72 y/o man with a past medical history of hypertension, hypercholesterolemia, hyperglycemia, GERD, liver cirrhosis and COPD, who endorses a social history of frequent tobacco usage and occasional alcohol consumption. Patient presents to the ED with chief complaint of chest pain, onset two hours ago after he drank three bottles of beer, and—

“Much better since you took care of me last week!” he humphs, patting his stomach.

You snap out of your automatic charting that was droning on in your head on reflex from how many times Judge Jun has shown up to the ED for acute chest pain which almost always ends up just being beer-induced GERD.

“At the hospital!” you clarify, “for taking care of you at the hospital!”

The man laughs heartily from where he sits up at the raised platform bench. “Yes! And Mr. Gojo! Nice to see you as well.”

You flit your eyes to Gojo, like you know him too? He only briefly spares you a sidewards glance before looking back at Judge Jun. “Likewise, sir.”

You postulate he scammed the fuck out of the man into signing a forty-year lease on a condo in the shady part of town, and you’ll leave it at that.

“I have to say, I am a little shocked by this matrimonial partnership!” Judge Jun chimes in. “But do you both swear to enter this marriage under just circumstances? I will need verbal affirmation from you both.”

Gojo raises his hand up in the air to swear on it, and you remember that he’s possibly done this before. Y’know how people have a courtroom wedding before a real wedding, something like that. And maybe that’s why he knows to raise his hand, because you didn’t even know you were supposed to raise your hand until now.

A real wedding. Something you’ve pictured a lot in your head, and so much more different than the arrangement you find yourself in right now. And because the pain of imagining yourself tying the knot with someone is too much right now, especially when the man you thought you were going to marry stands in uniform five feet away from you and probably doesn’t even recognize the dress you’re wearing right now, you glance over to Gojo and you try to imagine what a real wedding would’ve been like for him. Since he’s done it before.

He probably had a tacky wedding, like in a barn with barrels of beer used as tables with barely flickering string lights hung across wooden planks high on a triangular ceiling. The reception and the ceremony likely happened under the same roof, because he seems like the minimalist type, more focused on the feelings behind it and all, and not the grandeur.

Or maybe he was into the grandeur. Maybe he had a wedding on a skyline penthouse in the city, wearing expensive cologne like the one he’s wearing now, and a Dior suit he got custom made because it was a once in a lifetime occasion so why not? The image becomes a little too vivid in your head now, where you can picture this woman he’s marrying too. Pretty, tall just like him, wearing a ball gown white dress. He would’ve told her she looked beautiful, too. He would’ve told her he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her. Vows uttered shakingly into the microphone at an altar while the sun is setting far into the sky, shimmering off of high building windows until the air is golden and it reflects off of his and his soon-to-be wife’s face. And when they’ve professed their love for one another, he grabs her by the waist and dips her in a kiss, for the perfect picture against the perfect backdrop in front of all the perfect little people because there probably was a photographer at that event, wanting to capture the moment.

You snap out of the dazed moment when a loud voice calls out your name, and in a shock, you glance back up at Judge Jun who’s looking at you with slight irritation.

“Huh?” you squeak out, and then turn to look at Gojo, who’s got a look of mild concern on his face as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Please swear that this marriage is under just circumstances,” Judge Jun states with a cadence that indicates he’s commanded this of you multiple times already.

“Oh!” you stand up straight, “I—…I’m sorry.” You hold your hand up. “Yes, I swear this marriage is under just circumstances.” Just like Higurama had you practice. He’d be proud. Phew, the hard part was over.

The rest of the ceremony goes by in a rather fast blur, and it’s a little awkward when you both have to tell Judge Jun that you don’t have any vows to exchange at the moment when he offers the time for them, but Gojo comes up with some lie about how the real vows will be at our formal ceremony, and Judge Jun seems entirely satisfied and a little too ecstatic by the answer before allowing you two and Hana to sign the marriage certificate.

“And rings?” Judge Jun asks as he peers down through his glasses to the paper he was holding at his desk. “We can now make time for the exchange of rings.”

You’re prepared for Gojo to come up with another lie about how the real rings will be at our formal ceremony, but you see him shuffling with something in his pocket in your periphery. Hm? You glance down at his hip, and you see him pull something shiny out.

He turns to face you, and he holds his hand out to you with an up-facing palm. You blink at him and then glance down at his hand. And then you look up and blink at him, and then glance down his hand. And then you look up and blink at him, and then gl—

“Give me your hand,” he says to you, a little hushed and rushed.

“Why???” you ask, baffled.

“So I can put a ring on your finger?” he says, like it’s the most casual thing. Like getting a ring slipped onto your fourth finger is the most casual Sunday for you, when it’s something you’ve dreamt of your whole entire life.

You finally take a long hard look at the ring he’s holding in his right hand. It shimmers with every glint of light in the courtroom off of every angle, no doubtedly precisely cut diamond from a jeweler who really cares about their craft, and you swear you’ve saved a similar looking ring to one of your Pinterest wedding boards before.

You hesitantly bring your hand up and hover it over his.

“Your left hand, silly,” he tells you.

“Oh, right,” you say, and hand him your left one instead.

He holds it in his hand that is much warmer than yours, and it’s so tender, the way he gently slips the ring onto your finger. It fits with ease, perfection actually, and you can’t help raising your hand up in the air, spreading your fingers weakly as you admire the stone now sitting above your knuckle. It’s pretty.

You feel Gojo’s eyes on you, as he’s halted in frame, and you glance past your hand to look at his face. You dislike him. You do. You should. He’s your annoying as fuck next-door-neighbor. So then why does your heart feel like it could burst right now?

A glimmer of silver catches your eye, and you look down at his hands as he slips a silver ring onto his left hand while facing you before he turns to face the front again, signaling the end of the ring exchange, except you didn’t get to put it on his hand. He didn’t give you the chance.

“Alright! Wonderful!” Judge Jun exclaims, whose eyesight is probably too poor to have seen that it wasn’t even a proper ring exchange. “With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

There is scattered applause across the courtroom, a few cheers as well, as you two stand in front of the court of law in holy matrimony.

Judge Jun glances at Gojo. “Well, young man, you may now kiss the bride!”

“Oh—…that—” you stutter, “that’s not necessa—”

“Okay,” Gojo says, more to affirm Judge Jun than in acknowledgement of your protest, and in a series of what feels like just one motion, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you two him and then he—

He kisses you.

He kisses you like it’s real, like there’s history, like it’s a pure thing meant to last and not something you quite literally put a time stamp on. The kiss muffles the small sound that comes from your throat, your hands held up in the air in some slight surrender before they slowly settle on his shoulders as he bends you backwards over his forearm to deepen the kiss and the cheers surrounding you grow with a fervor that has your cheeks burning red but for some reason you don’t want it to end—

And then he pulls away from you, eyes darting across the features of your face in close proximity as he exhales slowly, like a release, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones in this room before he glances at your lips one last time and then he releases his hold on you. You stand shocked, and briefly glance at Choso, who looks like he’s about to burst a fuse off the top of his head.

What.

What.

What?

And just like that, you were married to your insufferable next-door neighbor.

.

.

.

[end of chapter 2]

a/n. thank youuu soooo so much for reading this chapter of ihm!! i’m kinda liking the writing style i’ve adopted for this series, it’s kinda lax n lenient sort of like a stream of consciousness and i hope it doesn’t come of too crass of informal lol i’m just playing around w some writing styles rn. ANYWHO i hope you enjoyed!! btw i picture choso as long-hair choso in any modern au (and not pigtails choso) so if you see me describing his hair in the way that i do, that’s why lol. love you all so much, hope to see you in the next one <3

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[really-fanny-longbottom]

IT WAS ALWAYS YOU

Pairings: Azriel x Reader, Inner Circle x Reader

Summary: After decades as friends, new feelings emerge that lead to a beautiful relationship with Azriel - and how the Inner Circle discovered it.

Warnings: Tons of fluff, suggestive, mentions of blood and violence (nothing too descriptive)

Words: 5.4k

Author's Note: Hi! Here is the long awaited fic about Azriel and Reader from my mini series Second Chance but it can also be read as a stand alone. I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you like it. Enjoy!

The morning had arrived with its first rays of sunlight, its gentle breeze, and the soft singing of birds. 

The bedroom window was open, letting the delights of spring reach you. 

You woke up five minutes ago. After checking that the clock said 7:15 a.m., you snuggled back into bed and decided to spend the time looking at the male still sleeping next to you.

You took this opportunity to run your fingers through his black hair, removing some strands from his face and lowering your hand until it passed over his cheek and rested on his jaw.

You couldn't help but admire the male who had become the center of your world. 

Your relationship has been the best surprise in your entire life. 

Those fifty years you were trapped in Velaris made you and Azriel even closer and helped you discover feelings for each other that you hadn't yet realized that they already existed.

Who would have thought that you would find love and happiness in the Shadowsinger? 

Who would have thought that the male who is always considered cold, reserved, and discreet would become your best friend?

This was your favorite view. Seeing Azriel so relaxed and calm, without any worries on his face and without any weight weighing down his shoulders.

You roamed his body with your eyes. He was shirtless with just his boxers protecting him from your thoughts from last night and because his shirt was on you right now. He was stretched out on the bed with his arms folded under the pillow where his head rested, his eyes were still closed, his lips were slightly open, leaving soft snores reaching your ears and his wings were lying to the sides, with one of them over you, revealing how comfortable he was.

The only thing you could feel was love, pride, and happiness in this moment because you were the reason this view was possible. 

You were the one who made him feel loved and safe like he had never felt before, and in a way, he didn't know.  

You were the one who made him laugh until his stomach hurt, and happy tears ran down his cheeks. 

You were the one he could talk to about everything without ever feeling judged.

You were the one with whom he could talk about his past, his family, and his hands because you were the one who wrapped him in your arms and listened attentively without ever complaining.

Your favorite memory had been the day Azriel admitted how he felt about you. How he told you that with you, he was neither the Shadowsinger nor the Spymaster nor one of the brothers of the High Lord of the Night Court nor a bastard.

That with you, he was Azirel. Just Azriel. You had never felt so much love as you did that day.

Even though that confession didn't have the presence of those three little words, you knew that this was the way he said them, and that was enough to you.

Because Azriel is enough to you. 

The biggest smile appeared on your features at the reminder of that memory, and that reminder took you back to the memories of how it all began.

-

Your relationship with Azriel has always been different from any other. 

While Rhys and Cass were your older brothers, Mor, your sister, and Amren, a mentor who sometimes gave you goosebumps, Azriel was your friend.

And a friend was exactly what you needed.

There were times when you felt guilty that your relationship with him was different from the one you had with Rhys and Cassian and that you were somehow excluding him and hurting him in the process. 

But you just couldn't see him as a brother, and although that didn't make sense to you at the time, it did now.

Your concern disappeared after Azriel revealed that he also saw you only as a friend, and that night, you thanked the Mother for that. Otherwise, things would be strange.

Azriel started out by being the person you ran away to when Rhys and Cass started to forget their role as brothers and started to step into the role of dads, or when Mor wanted to drag you on another round of shopping, or even when Amren became too scary for your taste.

In those moments you discovered how much you enjoyed his company, you didn't need to be talking to each other, you could just sit side by side and read or eat and the silence wasn't awkward. 

The company was comforting and cozy.              It felt right.

And so, he stopped being the person you ran away to and started being the friend you went to because you wanted to.

Books began to be exchanged, walks began to take place, training began to be done, and a routine was built.

Every day, you had breakfast with the Inner Circle, with the exception of Amren, who couldn't be woken up before lunch unless someone had a death wish.

After breakfast, train with Azriel and Cassian.  While Azriel trained you in hand-to-hand combat, Cassian trained you with weapons, and both taught you about balance and posture. After that, a quick shower and a small snack and you would join Rhys to read and write and work on your mental shields in his office.

Just like breakfast, you all got together again for lunch, now with Amren present. 

After lunch, you had classes with Amren who taught you about everything, history of Prythian and the Courts, literature, mathematics (definitely not your favorite) and much more, being over fifteen thousand years old classified her as the best for that.

Your favorite part was when she talked about the death gods, the High King, creatures, that was always the best part and you always found yourself wanting to know more, that was also due to the fact that Amren was amazing at telling stories.

This all meant that you had the rest of your afternoons free and that you could spend them however you wanted. It was at these times that you were looking for Azriel's company.

When he was away on missions or due to other matters, you found other ways to spend the afternoons but never when he was in Velaris.

And just like that, your friendship started to grow and transform into something more over time.

But it was only on your 123th birthday that you realized that you were deeply in love with the Shadowsinger. You held this birthday close to your heart not only because it was when you and Azriel finally happened but because it was also the first since Rhys got back from Under the Mountain and the first one with Feyre too.

As always, the Inner Circle organized a party to celebrate your birthday, with many presentes, decorations and of course a big chocolate cake.

But your favorite part? It was when Azriel took you on a night flight, that had become your thing over those fifty years.

Not only did you have the perfect view of Velaris above the stars, but you also had the perfect view of the male carrying you in his arms.

He was so handsome that night, but so were you.

You wore a cobalt blue dress that reached your ankles. The top part of the dress was a corset that tightened around your back, leaving it just covered by the threads that crossed each other and made a bow at the end. 

The skirt contained an opening on one of your thighs, and small diamonds decorated the fabric that made you look like one of the shining stars in the sky. 

A silver necklace and earrings adorn your neck and ears, and a sort of tiara rested on top of your head with your hair done in a perfect bun. 

Your high heels, also silver, had been discarded by the fireplace a long time ago after dancing so much.

Azriel was dressed in a dark blue suit that hugged his figure perfectly. A white shirt was folded to his elbows with the top two buttons unbuttoned, as was his dark blue vest. The pants were immaculate, as were the shoes. He was perfect.

You found yourself looking at his legs and arms several times throughout the night, but who could blame you?

After flying for a while, Azriel landed on the bridge next to Sidra, and after gently placing you on the ground, you turned to admire the view of the river shining under the starlight.

When you shivered a little due to the night wind, Azriel came closer to you and hugged you from the side and you took the opportunity to rest your head on his chest with an arm around his waist while your free hand found its place in his abdomen.

In this proximity, you had the perfect ability to hear how fast his heart was beating, and you also sensed how nervous he was.

So, before you lost your courage, you turned in his embrace and placed his hand over your heart before giving him a smile and asking, "Can you feel it?" You looked at his beautiful hazel eyes. "Can you feel how much my heart desires for you?"

Azriel wasted no time in reciprocating your smile, and after following your movements, now with your hand over his heart and his resting on top of your hand, he said, "Can you feel mine?"

You both let out giggles, and when those disappeared, Azriel closed the distance between you with his lips touching yours, his arms found their place around your waist and he gently lifted you until he was at his full height again.

Your hands placed themselves on his cheeks, and when he lifted you up, you bent one leg and lifted it into the air.

The perfect kiss for the perfect day in the perfect place at the perfect time.

That day felt like a dream, but you were glad it wasn't because that meant it was real.

-

A chuckle broke you from the memories, and when you looked back at the love of your life, his eyes were open.

"You're awake." You said.  

"I've been for a while. I called you several times, but you didn't even blink." He chuckled again and rested his head on one hand. He used the other to caress your cheek before giving you a kiss.

"Hmm," you hummed into the kiss, which made him chuckle more. "Good morning." 

With a smile never leaving his lips, he replied, "Good morning, angel." 

He started stroking your hair before asking, "What was that pretty little head of yours thinking about?"

"That's for me to know and for you to wonder," you answered him with a mischievous grin. 

"Hmm, you evil little thing." He couldn't help but laugh before continuing. "I like it." And before you could prepare yourself, he trapped you in his arms and shifted to lay on top of you with his arms now resting on the sides of your head.

He started kissing your neck, and you erupted into laughter. "Az," No matter how much you tried, you couldn't stop laughing.

Azriel stopped kissing your neck and planted a kiss on your lips before his hands returned to your hair.

He opened his mouth to say something but several knocks at the door, and Cassian's voice stopped him in his tracks and made both of your eyes darted to it. "Hey! Stop playing with each other and come have breakfast. Training in an hour."

You were quick to respond "Yes General. Thank you, General." Cassian let out a laugh before the sounds of his footsteps faded away.

When you went to look back at your lover, he was already looking at you with an amused expression. 

"What?"

"You know what this reminded me of?" He paused before continuing with his thought. "When Cass found out about us. We were in similar circumstances if I remember well." He lowered his head, so his lips were now hovering your ear, "but I wasn't the one on top." He finished with a shit eating grin and a knowing look.

"Shut up, Az!" You said while covering your face with your hands at the reminder, "that was so embarrassing." 

"Embarrassing? I thought it was hilarious." 

You swat his chest before proceeding. "You say that because you weren't the one who said all those things and was acting like an idiot." 

Azriel gave a big laugh at that mention. "Oh yeah!" He laughed even harder, making his chest touch yours, "I still don't know where you are trying to go with that conversation."

You swat his chest again but a little harder this time. "Stop! I was nervous, okay? I couldn't help myself." 

At the sight of you covering your face again, Azriel pushed your hands away, and with a gentle smile, he said, "It's okay, angel."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," He replied, and when a shit eating grin returned to his lips, you knew nothing good was about to come out of it "if you think about it, it wasn't as bad as it was when Rhys found out." 

"Ugh! Shut up, Azriel!" You groaned in frustration.

-

It had been six months since that birthday. Six months since the night, you and Azriel kissed and decided you wanted a relationship.

Even though both of you were thrilled with your new relationship, you weren't ready yet to share it with the rest of the world or your busybody family. 

So both of you decided to keep it to yourselves.

You and Azriel would occasionally flirt in front of your family and sometimes get a little handsy. If your family noticed, they didn't comment, but this also might not be anything new for them knowing how close you and Azriel got.

Besides, flirting wasn't anything new in the Inner Circle. Cass and Mor, Mor and you, Rhys and Amren, sometimes even the batboys with each other believe it or not and now Rhys and Feyre.

You and Azriel were both still in bed in his room, enjoying the last few minutes you had before having to get up for a new day.

You had sneaked into his room last night after everyone had gone to bed after another night of games, wine, and crackers with cheese.

Azriel was sitting against the headboard with you sitting on top of him, your legs on either side of him. Your hands were roaming his shoulders, neck, and chest.

Their hands were on your lower back under your shirt (his shirt), one of them was playing with the fabric of the shirt while the other was drawing small circles on your skin.

"What are your plans for today?" He asked.

"Well, after training, which I hope you're nice today considering what I did for you last night," an amused smile formed on your lips.  

"Are you trying to bribe me?"

You faked a disbelieving look. "What? Me? Never." Azriel scoffed at your antics before you continued, "As I was saying, after training, I need to review some papers with Rhys since I'm the Emissary again. I have a meeting in Summer in three days, and since it's my first meeting with Tarquin I asked him to help me prepare.”

"Emissary of the Night Court," Azriel returned the smile. "You've done well." 

A blush made its way to your cheeks before you could stop it. "Shut up."

"I'm serious. I'm proud of you. You deserve it." 

"Thank you, my love." You told him before giving him a kiss.

"Is Rhys going with you to Summer?" Azriel asked.

"No, he tried to find the time, but with the meeting with Keir happening on the same day, he can't." You answered and started passing your finger through the patterns of the tattoos on his chest. 

After a moment of silence, Azriel gave voice to his thoughts, "I can go with you if you want." You halted in your movements, and when your eyes met his, he proceeded. "Only if you want. I know you're perfectly capable of defending yourself, I mean, Cass and I trained you so," a smug grin plastered on his face "but since this is your first meeting with a new High Lord, I understand if you want to do this on your own." 

"No, I'd love it if you go with me." The blush appeared again on your cheeks. "Thanks, Az."

"Of course, angel." Azriel pulled you by the shirt and kissed you. A kiss that said a lot of things.

Before any of you noticed, the door was opened, and Cassian entered the room.

A look of shock was on Cassian's face and when you and Azriel turned to see him, you were quick to jump from Azriel's lap to the ground, only to land your foot on top of his boot and fall. 

You were quick to recover and stood up to look the General in the eyes who still had his mouth open.

"What. The. Fuck." Was his only response.

"This isn't what it seems, Cass, I was just...I..." your heart was beating fast with nervousness and embarrassment, so you said the first thing that came to mind without thinking "I was just teaching Azriel something."

"What?" Both males asked.

Realizing the words that had just come out of your mouth, you mentally scolded yourself, "That's not what I meant" you started to squeeze the fingers of one hand with the other nervously "it's just that I read something the other day in a culinary book and thought it was interesting so I...I..." 

"What?" The males asked again, giving you confused looks.

You cleared your throat before you started waving your hands in front of your face and exclaimed "Gods, why is it so hot in here?" 

Cassian lifted an eyebrow at you "Maybe it's because you're wearing Azriel's shirt.”

Shock ran through your entire body at his reply, you had no response to that.

"So," Cassian crossed his arms over his chest "you two are a couple?" 

"What? No! This is all part of the plan." You answered him, and you were so focused on your big brother that you didn't notice Azriel trying to hide his smile.

"What plan?" Cassian asked in his big brother's voice.  

"I read about an experiment about animals-"

"Animals?" Azriel asked, not knowing if he felt offended or not.

Cassian was trying to stay serious. He had come to Azriel's room to tell him about training but instead he found his little sister on a male's lap kissing him with nothing but his shirt and underwear. This is not how he imagined his morning but he couldn't help but break his serious gaze for a second at your reply "You read about animals in a culinary book?"

When you didn't respond and your face turned a shade of red from embarrassment, the males tried to contain their laughs.

Azriel interrupted you before you could say anything else that didn't make any sense. "Angel, thanks for trying but you're a horrible liar."

"Wha-?" You tried to protest.

"I'm not angry." Cassian interrupted you.

"You're not?" You asked in a small voice.

"No, little star. I'm just surprised, I mean, I noticed your flirting but I thought you were just messing around like the rest of us."

"We weren't." Azriel spoke this time.

"No shit." He said to him before turning his attention to you "Anyways, why don't you go to your room and get ready? Training is in twenty minutes." Cassian said before grabbing the door handle and opening it for you.

"Okay." You started gathering your clothes and your shoes before going to give a quick kiss to Azriel but that was before he said while laughing "Animals? Really?" 

"Shut up!" You said, after grabbing the pillow on your side and throwing it at his head. 

Cassian closed the door when you left and turn to Azriel who was no longer laughing.

"Cass-" 

"Shut up and listen," and the Shadowsinger did as he was told "if you break her heart or if you hurt her in any way, I'll hunt you down. Got it?" 

"Yes." Azriel never thought he would live to the day where he would be afraid of Cassian.

"Good. I'll talk with her later. Now, get ready. We have training." 

Azriel released a sigh, knowing what was about to happen at training. "You're going to kick my ass, aren't you?"

"Hell yeah." Was Cassian's response before exiting the bedroom.

- 

Your hand was intertwined with Azriel's as you ran towards the kitchen as silently as possible.  

You had just arrived from a date at Rita's and were currently too happy and unbalanced, the result of several drinks and Rhys having an open tab at the bar. 

The house was dark and silent, when you finally made it to the kitchen, the clock on the wall marked exactly 3:07 a.m., but you and Azriel weren't ready to end the night nor were you tired.

Your trip to the kitchen was for the purpose of drinking water but that was forgotten in the back of your minds, when you turned around to face Azriel and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely.

You kissed him as if he were the air you breathe and Azriel returned the gesture with the same intention. 

His hands started to move down from your face, to your shoulders, to your back and finally to your ass before he grabbed it and lifted you up to sit on the kitchen counter.

You opened your legs wider so he could get between them and just detached your lips from his to grab the ends of his shirt and pull it off him.

Azriel wasted no time in doing the same to you.  Alcohol had an effect on him that made him unable to let go of you for even a second and he needed you now. 

With his hands going to your back, he grabbed the fabric of your top and ripped it in half before tossing to the side and leaving you in your bra.

He started kissing your jaw and your neck, and you took the chance to unbutton his pants but you were only halfway through when he moved to kiss your shoulders and chest, making you lose focus and leaning back to lying down on the cold surface of the counter. 

Azriel continued kissing down your chest and when he reached your stomach, he stayed there while he started undoing your pants.

He grabbed the hem of your pants and underwear at the same time to take them off but before he could go any further, someone cleared their throat.

Rhys was standing at the kitchen entrance in his pajamas, clearly looking like he regretted leaving his bed.

The faelights lit up and you got a better view of your brother, before quickly sitting up and using Azriel as a shield to hide your body.

You were both perplexed and at your silence, Rhys said "Late snack?" 

Even though this was something Rhys never wanted to see, he couldn't help but laugh at your expressions and how messed up you were due to the alcohol. "Don't worry about me, I just came to get some water." He moved to the fridge while you and Azriel remained where you were without moving a muscle.

After taking what he needed, Rhys turned his back to you, turned off the lights and told you before leaving the kitchen "If you think you're safe from this, then you're wrong. We'll talk about this in the morning after I erase this image from my mind."

You waited until you heard the door to Rhys's bedroom close before returning to your previous activities.

It was only three in the morning, you still had plenty of time before Rhys's lecture gave you a headache.

- 

You were at Dawn, the second ball of the week to establish relationships between Courts. Which meant you were working considering you were the Emissary. 

You had just talked to Thesan about the new deal Rhys was planning for the Solar Courts, and now you were looking for your family, finding only Amren with Varian and a glass of wine in her hand.

"Amren? Have you seen the others? I can't seem to find them." 

"Fine, I'll help you." She said as if she was bothered but in reality you knew she wasn't, in fact you always knew that Amren had a soft spot for you since you were a child.

"Thanks." You interviewed your arm with hers to make sure you didn't get lost in the crowd.

After a few minutes of searching, you finally found Azriel and as you were dodging the people in front of you, a smile made its way to your lips.  

A smile that quickly fell when you saw that he was accompanied by a female. 

Your heart started to fall - it was not possible, your Azriel would never do such a thing to you.

It only took you a few seconds to realize you were correct. Azriel would never do this to you.  

You looked more closely and noticed that he was trying to get away from the female's touch but she was insisting.

Anger coursed through your body and before anything could stop you, you walked towards her and punched her right in the nose.

When she fell to the ground, you realized what you did and shock ran through your body. 

This ball was to help strengthen relationships between the Courts and you had just punched a female for touching your male.

Your arm was still intertwined with Amren's and when you looked at her you saw the biggest feline smile she had ever given "I always knew something was going on between you two," she gestured to you and Azriel "Good job, child, I'm proud and this ball was getting boring anyway."

The ancient one raised her glass towards the fallen female who was now clutching her bloody nose "Thank you for your participation," she said before taking a sip of the wine and making her way back to Varian.

You looked at Azriel who had a big smile on his face and raised his hand towards you to grab it and stand by his side but before either of you  spoke, you saw a very angry Rhysand walking towards you.

"Shit." That was the only thing you were able to say before your brother gave you another lecture and took you home so no more females would have their noses broken.

-

Mor had joined you for training the following morning, she had arrived yesterday afternoon from the Continent and wanted to spend as much time with you as possible before having to leave again. 

You were stronger and faster since the last time you two had trained and Mor found herself trying to keep up with you several times.

She had insisted on training in hand-to-hand combat and she realized that she had made the right choice because if you fought like that without weapons, she didn't even want to imagine what you would be like with them.

After another hour that seemed like three to Mor, the training came to an end and you sat on the ground at the top of the House of Wind while drinking water and calming your breathing.

"Well, Cassian and Azriel are really good instructors. You're fighting like a true Illyrian."

You smile at the compliment. When you first started training it was hard but now it felt like a second skin and you were very proud at your effort.

"Thanks, Mor. We should train together more often." 

She looked at you incredulous "No, thanks. I'm fine." 

You both laughed simultaneously, and looked forward to seeing where Cassian and Azriel were standing on the other side. 

"They've been standing there for a long time. What do you think they're talking about?" You asked her.

Mor scoffed "Probably arguing over who has the biggest wingspan again," Mor leaned towards you so no one else could hear "I bet it's Azriel."

You raised your water to drink another sip when you responded to Mor without thinking "Believe me, I know."

You stopped in the middle of your action when you realized what you just admitted.  

"What do you mean by that, little star?" She asked, an amused smile beginning to settle across her features.

"Nothing." Your face turned red from the embarrassment.

"Holy. Shit." Mor started clapping hands and jumping in her seat.

"Stop it!" You told her before standing and starting to run to your bedroom but Mor was quick to follow your movements and she ran behind you. 

When you reached your bedroom, Mor made you tell her all the details and everything she had lost these past few months she was away.

-

"See the positive side. At least you were fully dressed when Amren and Mor found out." Azriel told you.

"By the Cauldron, shut up." Fed up with his sarcastic comments, you lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist before pushing him to the side and getting on top of him.

You held his hands with yours beside his head and bent down to give him a kiss only to be interrupted by new knocks on the door and Cassian's voice again "Hurry up, otherwise I'm going to make you run for an hour, little star."

"Fine!" You screamed at him and after a moment you told Azriel "Gods, he's annoying today." 

"I heard that. You're going to run for two hours." Cassian said before stepping away from the door.

"Dammit." You cursed while Azriel chuckled.

- 

Tonight was Starfall and once again you were beautiful wearing the same dress that you did when Azriel kissed you for the first time.

This was your favorite festivity and nothing could take away the happiness that this day brought you, not even your sore muscles from running for two hours yesterday.

Now that your whole family knew about you and Azriel, there was nothing stopping you from seeing the spirits in each other's arms.

When it was over, Azriel looked down to meet your eyes and it was then that a force hit him.

A golden thread around his heart began to form before it began to connect with yours. He froze in place, surprise and shock overwhelming him.

But what shocked him the most was when you took his hand with a genuine smile and told him "Took you long enough." And then a tug in his chest, it was you.

"You knew?" When you only nodded, he asked you again "When?"

"Since my birthday. It snapped after you kissed me."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to pressure you because it snapped for me and not for you and I wanted to show that I don't love you just because we're mates. I love you because it's you." You confessed to him.

Now everything made sense to Azriel. 

Why he had never found a female that he felt connected to or that felt right.  

Why he had never met a female in which he felt loved or safe.  

Why he had never met a female with who he could be himself and laugh until he cried with happy tears.

Because it was you. It was always you.

It was no secret how much he wanted a mate and now after five hundred years of waiting, you were finally in front of him with love filling your hearts and being linked by a beautiful golden thread for eternity.

It couldn't be more perfect.

"Are you upset it's me?" You found yourself asking when he didn't say anything after a long minute.

With tears in his eyes and his arms around your waist, he hugged you close to his chest and kissed you like all the females wish to be kissed. 

When your lips parted, he tugged on the bond and told you "I've been waiting for you, Angel."

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! And a special thank you to @mybestfriendmademe for giving the idea of writing about the Inner Circle's reaction. If you wish to be added to the general taglist let me know. 😊

Masterlist

Taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @tele86 @shadowsingercassia @meritxellao

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

#acotar #acotar fandom #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #inner circle #cassian #cassian x reader #rhysand #rhysand x reader #mor x reader #morrigan acotar #morrigan #amren acotar #amren #amren x reader #feyre cursebreaker #azriel x you

[eomayas]

08:42 • ksy

pairing: non-idol!soonyoung x f!reader, established relationship

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!, fluff

synopsis: morning sex (and kink discovery) with soonyoung

warnings: slight daddy kink, p in v, handjob, unprotected s*x, fingering, reader calls soonyoung an ‘asshole’ twice, soonyoung is very cheeky. dialogue heavy!

a/n: had lots of fun writing this! the idea was super random but i thought it worked well for my hoshibae

“i have to work,” you mange to pull yourself out of soonyoungs hold, but not out of his reach as a slap is delivered to your ass. you flip him off and pad over to his dresser, and dig through your designated drawer that he emptied out for you a few weeks ago.

“call out,” he quips, and this time you roll your eyes. you glance at him through the mirror, a lazy smirk on his face as he lies sprawled out in his bed. the sheets are draped over him haphazardly, strategically drawn over his hips but exposing the rest of his toned body. it’s tempting, soonyoung in bed, ready to have his way with you, but you really have to go to work.

“how will i eat? pay rent?” you ask, placing your folded clothes on top of his dresser and spinning around to face him.

“i’ll take care of you.”

you lift an eyebrow. “you’ll be my sugar daddy?” you’re teasing, but you don’t miss the way he shifts in the bed. soonyoung curls his arm behind his head, and you so badly want to grab your phone to take a picture of the sight before you.

“are you going to call me daddy?” his cheeks redden as he asks, and you smirk at him, leaning against the dresser.

“that depends; how much are you going to spend on me?” he smiles and sits up straighter in the bed, the sheets bunching up around his hips. your eyes scan the room and find his discarded underwear at the door of the bed.

“as much as it takes for you to call me ‘daddy’,” he answers, a giddy smile on his face. you roll your eyes.

“i want some numbers.”

“name your price.”

you tilt your head. “i think ill go to work,” you say, shutting the dresser and spinning around to look at him. you open your mouth to make another comment, but it dies on your tongue when he raises his arms over his head to stretch, muscles in his arms and stomach tightening with the movement. he’s tempting, sitting in bed with nothing but a light sheet covering his hips. it’s enough to make you want to be a few minutes late to work.

soonyoung catches you staring, sees the resolve dying within you and smirks. “your loss,” he says, slipping out of bed, unsheathing his nude body with confidence that makes you instinctively lean against the dresser. he saunters into the bathroom, catching your eye in the mirror with a wink before disappearing around the corner to the toilet.

you can’t help but follow after him, stepping into the bathroom and avoiding looking at him even as he flushes the toilet and turns towards you, his entire body on full display. you reach into the shower and turn the dial, adjusting the temperature once the stream begins. you start undressing, casting a glance in the direction of the mirror to look at soonyoung, who’s eyes are already on you. you blush, and play it off by looking away from him and reaching behind you to unhook your bra. “you’re staring,” you comment, letting the garment drop to the floor before you step out of your underwear.

“you’re hot,” he says plainly, the way somebody would say that the sky is blue, or that 2+2 is four. you just snort and step into his shower, sliding through glass door shut.

when soonyoung doesn’t immediately slip inside after you, you pull it back open. “are you getting in?” he reappears in the bathroom with a grin on his face, and you back out of the way to let him in. soonyoung immediately crowds into you, arm snaking around your waist as he pulls you into a hot kiss. soonyoung slips his tongue into your mouth with ease, and you let him just as readily. his hips press into yours, and you arch away from his mouth when you feel his member against your thigh.

soonyoung chases after your lips with his own, whining when you gently push his face away from yours. “i actually need to shower,” you say, but you press your chest against his own and skate your nails up his biceps.

swinging you around, you shriek when soonyoung plants you directly in line of the stream of water. “you’re an ass,” you say as he squirts body wash into his palm and rubs them together before planting them on your backside.

“and yours is my favorite,” he says, a toothy smile adorning his lips. he rubs soap into your skin, gently kneading your flesh as he goes. soonyoung works his hands up your body, working the soap into your stomach and up between the valley of your breasts. you watch him with parted lips and low eyelids, wetness growing between your thighs each time he drags his palms across your body.

palming your breasts, soonyoung softly massages the flesh and you lick your lips. “don’t get cute,” you mutter, a quiet gasp leaving your lips when he gently pinches your nipples until they peak. you press your thighs together and soonyoung continues rubbing your breasts, his dick growing harder with each quiet sound you make, and as your chest gets sudsier.

“fuck, i could come just looking at you like this,” he says shamelessly, groping your chest greedily. his dick is hard and heavy, the tip bright red. you glance down and grab ahold of his dick, and begin pumping him. soonyoung grunts and his hips buck into you, one of his hands leaving your chest to brace himself against the shower wall. “shiiit.”

soonyoung drops hangs his head as you jerk him off, his chest rising and falling rapidly. he grunts and curses, your name spilling from his lips in a choked moan when you massage his balls with your other hand. “ch-chill,” he captures you lips in an open mouthed kiss, his breathing labored.

your breasts are forgotten about as you keep working him out, and you grow weaker and weaker with each whine you pull out of him. “e-e-enough,” soonyoung stammers, body curling into yours in an attempt to get away from you. his release is right in front of him, but if he’s going to finish its going to be because of you pussy, not your hand.

“you’re no fun,” you pout, adjusting the angle of the shower head to rinse the soap off of your chest. soonyoung keeps himself upright by leaning against the wall and watches as you rinse off his artwork with heavy eyes. “can you fuck me?” you ask him, voice sweet and innocent as if you didn’t just ask him that lewd question.

the corner of soonyoungs lip curls upwards. he grabs you by the hips and pulls you into another hot kiss, his hands sliding down to grab a handful of your ass. he turns you away from the water and backs you up into the far wall of the shower. soonyoung spreads your ass cheeks apart and slips his fingers towards your entrance. “call out,” he groans against your mouth when he feels how wet you are, biting your bottom between his teeth.

“you want to be called ‘daddy’ that bad?” you quip, shuddering when he slips two fingers into you. you clutch onto his shoulders and press against him. “d-didn’t know you were into that.” you let out a moan when he drags his fingers out of you and presses against your clit.

soonyoung skates his lips across your jaw and down your neck before sucking a hickey into your skin. “asshole,” he fucks his fingers into in the form of an apology. “i-im n-never call—fuck!” you lurch into him, raising up on your toes as he rubs quickly at your clit. your legs begin to shake and you dig your nails into his skin to get a better hold against him, your mouth near his ear mewling out his name.

“hmm?” he says, kissing the corner of your mouth. you can’t even work up the ability to call him an asshole for the third time, because pressure builds and builds in your stomach until it becomes too much, and you release all over his fingers. “that’s it, baby. that’s what i thought.”

“fuck you.”

“i’m trying.”

soonyoung spins you around and presses you against the wall before tugging you back by the hips and making you arch. you splay your palms flat against the the tile and suck in an anticipatory breath. “i love you, by the way,” he says, kissing your shoulder. you smile, cheeks tinging pink, snd glance at him over your shoulder.

“of course you do,” you reply, groaning when he drops his hand onto your ass with a smack. you push back against him, urging him to either stick it in or to do it again—the choice is up to him, and either are enough to get you off for a second time with how turned on you feel.

“say it,” soonyoung presses, teasing your entrance with the head of his dick. it’s a bit surprising to know that he’s into the whole ‘daddy’ thing. you don’t really have any opinions about it, besides that it feels a bit cheesy, but you’ll try anything once with him—but no before making it harder on him (no pun intended).

“it.”

he scoffs and teases your clit this time, your mouth dropping open. “say it,” he rubs his hand over your ass before slapping it again, this time a bit harder than the last. it stings in the best way, and you let it be known by moaning out a breathy “fuck”. soonyoung draws his bottom lip in between his teeth, ready to give in and just fuck you so you don’t get fired, but he really wants to hear you say it just once. “if you’re really turned off by it, i’ll drop it. but if not, then i won’t fuck you until you say it.”

you don’t want to lie to him just so he can fuck you, but you really can’t bring yourself to say it and mean it. soonyoung is your baby, your lover, your person, but daddy? you don’t even know how to take that seriously. “daddy, fuck me,” you try, ready to burst out into laughter the moment it leaves your lips.

it makes his cock twitch despite your flat tone. “say it like you mean it.”

“what does that even mean?” you bark, looking over your shoulder at him. when you see the look on his face, the way he holds his cock that’s leaking with precum in one hand, you sigh and turn back around. you push your hips back and make your voice as whiny as possible. “daddy, i need you.”

you don’t know why that does it for him, but he sinks himself deep inside of you in one smooth go. you whisper out his name as he stretches you out, your entire body feeling like he’s splitting you open. “s-soonie,” you whimper as he pulls out and slams back into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“fuck, you are so tight,” soonyoung groans, putting hand on the back of your neck to have full control of you. you cunt squeezes around him like you’re trying to suck him in deeper and simultaneously keep him out. he keeps on bullying his way into your cunt, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks. “i’d take care of you even if you had two jobs.” he pants. you want to laugh, but when you open your mouth you only cry out his name.

soonyoung let’s go of your neck to grab onto your inner thigh, and lifts of your leg to fuck into you at different angle. “right there!” you cry out, chest arching into the cold tile.

“i love you so much,” he whines, eyebrows knitting together as he stares down at where you two connect. the tip of his dick presses into that spongy part inside of you and has you squeezing your eyes shut. “quit your job and let me fuck you all day.” he cries out, biting down on his bottom lip as his resolve begins to shatter with each thrust.

“fuck your job,” he rambles on, hips rutting into you quickly, his previous rhythm lost. you can only moan out a string of curses, legs starting to feel like jello. you definitely will be limping earlier, if the hickey wasn’t enough embarrassment. “fuuuuck, i’m close.” soonyoung whimpers.

soonyoung let’s go of your legs and supports you by firmly holding onto both of your hips. he yanks you back onto his cock, moans echoing off the shower walls as you cunt spasms around him, your release mere moments away. “shitshitshit,” you cry, gasping when he pulls your back flush against his chest and holds you by the throat, his grip firm but loose so you can breathe. “ah!” he wraps his arm around your middle and prods at your clit with his middle finger. he rubs your sensitive nub until you’re coming undone on top of him, your cunt clamping down on him and making it nearly impossible for him to move underneath you.

ropes of his come shoot inside of you moments later, his hips stilling and a whine of your name leaving his lips as he reaches his climax. he pulls the two of you back under the stream of water, removing the hand that’s on your throat to make the water cooler. your eyes fly open when the water hits you, and you untangle yourself from soonyoung, frowning when he’s no longer inside of you. “fuck, i am so late,” you complain, but you spin around and pull him down into a long kiss.

“thank you,” he breathes once you pull apart, wiping water out of his eyes. “for, you know.”

“as long as you’re happy.”

“well, i realized it’s not really my thing. you’re just hot.”

you smile at him and give him another quick peck. “good, because you were moaning like a little bitch in my ear.”

#hoshi smut #hoshi x you #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung smut #soonyoung x you #svt smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #hoshi imagines #soonyoung fluff #svt fluff

[beesspacedotorg]

The Sky is Blue, the Grass is Green

Summary: You love your girlfriend more than anything else in the world. It's not hard, she's perfect for you. You'd give her everything she could ever want and more still.

Warning: SEX LESBIAN SEX WITH GIRLS AND LESBIANS. I will say that reader has a vagina as does lino. hits is because I wrote this while half asleep after not sleeping for 16 hours with a sore throat and forgot to write gender neutral reader. outside of the fact that the reader has one of those body type is not specified because :|. uh. spanking (sorry, I'm me) and mommy kink (me) and girls being in love with each other

notes: happy pride month. I've been listening to a lot of music by sapphics recently and it made me gay. Also I saw some loser say that Chappell Roan is the first queer person to publicly yearn for women and that is phenomenally untrue. Internet person who I've never met, this was written to spite you. Sorry for not making this more inclusive to women of all body types or to all lesbians regardless of gender. mayhaps I will write something for you soon. EXTRA NOTE: Moon Chaeyoung is not a kpop idol (to my knowledge) she is Cindy Moon aka Silk aka a Spider-Man. Chaeyoung is her Korean name. sorry for the slander, Cindy, I love you more than anything but I needed a name.

You’re going to make her your wife one day. You know this with the certainty that you know everything else. The sky is blue, the grass is green, you are going to marry Lee Minho. You’re staring at her, watching her make breakfast (that isn’t actually breakfast because you’re eating it at 2pm) in an old school shirt of yours and you can feel your love for her swell through your heart to be pumped through the rest of your body. You think that loving her is the most effective drug on the planet, that people wouldn’t need anything stronger than an ibuprofen because just spending a minute alone with her is enough to give you a high unlike any other. She turns around to plate the food and catches you staring, she always does, and it makes her ears blush crimson.

“Yah,” she says it softly, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Why would I need a picture when I have the real thing right in front of me?” Her ears turn a new, deeper shade of red and she avoids your gaze.

“You’re a charmer, you know that?”

“I have the most beautiful woman in the world in front of me and you want me to be normal about it?” You roll your eyes playfully, and reach for your cup to take a sip of your juice.

“No, you don’t,” she says, suddenly.

“‘No, I don’t’ what?”

“You don’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in front of you,” she hands you your plate - with no eggs because you can’t stand them, and no pork because it makes you sick, and french toast the way your dad used to make on lazy Sunday mornings - made with love and care just like everything else she does.

“You don’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in front of you,” she repeats, sitting down next to you with her breakfast that’s completely different from yours, “I do.”

-

“Minnie Mouse?” You just came from work, calling through the house to see if she’s home, too. You can tell from the aggravated sigh that comes from the living room that she is, indeed, home.

“You could literally call me anything else,” she’s wrestling Dori on her lap, the tabby always staunchly opposed to having his nails clipped.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You sit down beside her and take the clippers, letting her soothe and calm Dori while you make yourself his least favorite for the night. You’ll live. He’ll come begging for attention when Minho’s too busy being great at everything to give it to him.

“The fun is not having your girlfriend break your toes in your sleep.” You laugh at her and bring her Doongie, holding him instead because he doesn’t care about the whole process even a little bit and you want to pet his soft head.

“Did you know there’s nothing they can do for broken toes?”

“Really? Doongie, please stop wiggling so much.”

“Yeah, they kind of just say ‘good luck’ and kick you out before charging you one million dollars for breathing hospital air.”

“American healthcare really is something. How’d you learn that by the way?”

“My friend had an experience once. Also, it was mentioned in a video game.” She laughs, kissing Doongie’s forehead, then yours.

“Did you learn anything else in that video game?”

“I have incredibly poor hand-eye coordination.”

“I could’ve told you that.”

“What- what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Will you get a towel to wrap Soongie in, please?”

“Hey, wait. Hey! You can’t just say weird things and walk away!”

(“Can you really tell that I have poor hand-eye coordination?” You ask her this while she’s splayed out under you, two of your fingers knuckle deep in her sweet cunt while a thumb circles her clit.

“What?” She’s out of breath and her chest is heaving in a way that makes her tits look even hotter than normal. You almost lose your train of thought.

“Earlier. You said you can tell that I have poor hand-eye coordination.”

“Jesus- you stopped fucking me to ask me that?” One of her hands that was cradling your wrist goes up to her eyes to rub at them. “You’re something else.”

“Well! I just remembered it! Maybe I’m not doing a good job-”

“Stupid girl,” she’s got you on your back now, seemingly not caring about the orgasm she was approaching before you got distracted. “When have I ever not told you when I didn’t like something?”

“Uh. Never?”

“Exactly, so why do you think I’d start now? With this?” She gestures between the two of you and you look, stupidly, like you will see something other than your naked, sweaty body and her equally naked, equally sweaty, incredibly sexy body.

“That’s… that’s a great question.”

“I was just teasing, jagi. That’s all.” She kisses the side of your mouth and you can feel the way her lashes flutter along your cheek in a perfect butterfly kiss. Everything about her makes you fall deeper in love the longer you know her, even her stupidly long and perfect eyelashes.

“So, about my hand-eye coordination.” She drops her head to your shoulder with another curse and your hand comes up to play with her hair.

“It’s still bad, believe me. I don’t notice it when we have sex, though. You’re perfectly good with your hands, jagi.”

“The best?” She smiles, kisses you on the mouth this time.

“The best.”)

-

She’s got you in between her legs in the tub, her strong thighs thrown over yours so you can’t move while she aims the jet of the shower head directly on your clit. It’s almost too much, it always is, an unyielding wall of pressure that sends shocks of pleasure through your body in a way that makes you squirmy beyond belief. The first time you did this to yourself, you ended up with bruises on your back, the first time you did this with her, you almost elbowed her in the face. As it stands, she’s got her arms wrapped around you as best she can as you whine underneath her.

“I can’t, I can’t. ‘S too much, please.”

“Jagi,” she coos it right into your ear, “you haven’t even came yet. You keep tapping out before it gets good. Don’t you wanna come, baby?” You nod and she tilts her head out of the way so you don’t nail her in the jaw.

“I want to, but it’s so much.” She coos as you again as your legs scramble uselessly for purchase underneath hers. The tile is too slippery for you to do so, and Minho’s thighs are no joke. She’s danced for years and her gym routine is nothing to scoff at. You could spend hours writing sonnets about her legs if you weren’t so distracted.

“You can though, can’t you, kitty cat?” Your hand pats frantically at her arm until she gets the message to hold it in one of her own. “You can be good for me, right? You’ll come the way I want you to?”

The sound you let out in response to that is more of a cry than anything else, she shushes you and kisses your cheek sweetly like she isn’t the one overloading your nerves with sensation, like the isn’t the one unleashing as much water pressure as possible on the most sensitive part of your body. She shifts her grip just slightly, adjusts the angle and that has you lurching forward so fast you almost knock her over.

“Silly girl, don’t run.” She pulls you right back to her chest, boobs pressed against your back as she fixes the spray directly at the angle that had you reeling. “I always forget how squirmy you get when we do this.” She giggles, like she’s watching a silly cartoon.

“Mommy,” you can’t think enough to say anything intelligent, high, pitchy moans coming out in place of words. You want to answer her, to tell her you weren’t trying to run, that you will be a good girl for her. She’s trained you better than this, but you can’t say much else beyond her title, beyond her name. You hope she knows what you’re trying to tell her anyway.

“Oh, jagi.” Her voice is soft and sweet, but the way she’s pinning you is not. Neither is the way she’s forcing you to take what she gives you. “Mommy’s here, kitty cat. Mommy’s got you.”

“Mommy. Mommy.” You’re repeating it, over and over, too dumb to say anything else as you feel the overwhelming input you’ve been receiving crest higher and higher. She hums after each mention of her name like she understands what you’re saying. Hums like you’re one of the cats meowing at her for attention. You suppose she’s not too far off.

You cum with a near silent scream, breath halting in your chest in a way that used to concern Minho when it first happened. She doesn’t keep the water pressure going for too long after that, dropping the showerhead to replace the stream with her fingers to help you ride it out. She only loosens her grip when you slump back against her, loose limbed and dazed, muscles still twitching from how tightly they were tensed. She kisses the side of your face and very politely keeps her hands above your waistline while you calm down.

“You feel better?” She’s holding the shower head again, and giggles when you close your legs, simply holding it to the side so it doesn’t spray water all over the floor.

“Mhm. Thank you, mommy.”

“I’m glad. Let’s finish showering, yeah? Mommy will clean you up.”

 (You’re leaning heavily against her as she guides you to sit on the bed, grabbing your respective lotions and hair care products and turning to take care of you first. You whine at her.

“Let me do yours!” She raises an eyebrow.

“Keep your eyes open for more than thirty seconds and maybe I will.” You lift your hands and manually pry your eyelids apart. She bats at them until you stop.

“Ew, it’s so gross when you do that. Freak.”

“I miss five minutes ago when you were telling me I’m the love of your life.”

“Five minutes ago you weren’t being a little shit head.”

“False. I’m always a shit head.” She hums and grabs your chin, wiggling your head a little until you look at her.

“No, sometimes, you’re my sweet little girl.”

“Oh.” There’s absolutely no hiding the way you react to her when she talks to you like that and your hands fly to her hips as she lets go and leans back out of your personal space to grab the stuff to start your post-shower routine.

“Let me eat you out.” It’s sudden, and comes out of you in a rush.

“What?” She nearly drops the bottle of leave-in, ears turning red.

“Please? Please. I’ll get on my knees right now.” She scoffs.

“You’re falling asleep as we speak”

“No, I’m wide awake right now. Please let me, please.” She hums.

“Let me finish what I’m doing and if you’re still speaking in full sentences and not going crazy with sleep induced hysteria, I’ll let you.”

“Yippee!”

“If you fall asleep you can have what you want in the morning.”

“You’re the best, ever.”

“I’m aware.”

By the time she’s done taking care of the both of you, you are definitely not well enough to be doing anything. That doesn’t stop you from trying though, and you fall asleep with your head pillowed on one of Minho’s thighs. She has to readjust you so you don’t suffocate in her cunt. What a way to go.)

-

Minho is having a bad day today. It isn’t often she has those, generally unflappable to most things, but she’d gotten into a fight with one of her work friends and came home in a huff.

“I just don’t understand why she won’t listen to me!” She’s slamming things open and closed around the kitchen while you sit on the counter. She works around you as she always does and doesn’t slam anything if it’s less than two feet away from you.

“I know, she’s a bitch. You should report her to HR or something.”

“I should!”

“I’ll help you draft the email. I’m very good at sounding bitchy in a nice way.”

“You are!” She’s aggressively chopping vegetables next to you and you rest a hand on her shoulder.

“Be careful of your fingers, lovie.”

“I’m always careful.”

“Of course you are,” you’re unusually agreeable because it will do nothing but harm to work your girlfriend up when she’s already upset. Besides, of the two of you, you’re more clumsy, so it’s not like you have any legs to stand on. 

“Do you want solutions to what’s going on, or do you want me to keep calling your coworkers mean names?” It’s nice to ask people what kind of support they want, you learned. Minho is a coin toss, sometimes she wants an immediate solution, sometimes she wants to complain. You always do your best to meet her where she is.

“The second one, please.” She’s sauteeing something in the wok, and it smells delicious. You peer over her shoulder.

“Pause. Is that pancit?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re the love of my life.”

“Yes, yes,” you touch your pointer finger to the tip of an iron-hot ear as she speaks, “please call Moon Chaeyoung a cunt again, it’s funny.”

And so you do, going into detail about all the ways Moon Chaeyoung is inferior at her job compared to your girlfriend until she asks you for genuine help.

(“Is there anything else you need?” She’s laying with her head in your lap as you make tiny braids in her hair. Her eyes are closing and she hums as she thinks about it. You’ve already given her all the advice that you can, her only course of action now is to do it.

“Well. I can think of some things.” She turns her head to the side and shoves her face into your crotch like an animal. You swat her shoulder lightly.

“You’re a horn dog. Insatiable.” She turns her eyes to you, squinting them so her cat-like gaze shifts from playful to predatory.

“Which one of us woke the other up this morning because they couldn’t stop shoving their hands in their pants?” She sits up, leaning over you.

“I was dreaming!” You’re giggling, slipping under her arm and moving away.

“You kept going after I woke you up!” She stands up, throwing her arms in the air indignantly. You cross your arms in response.

“I was horny!” 

“That’s exactly my point.” She has her head in her hands so the words come out muffled. She grumbles something and lunges after you. You squeal and head towards your room.

“Yah! Get back here you little shit!” She lets out a huff as you throw a cat toy at her.

“I thought I was the love of your life!”

“That was before you decided to run from me- don’t you dare close that damn door-” The bedroom door clicks shut and the sound of your giggles is uncontrollable. You hear her walk away before the lock jiggles and her head pops through.

“Guess who?” You laugh again, heading towards the bed to throw more things at her, it does nothing to stop her. It’s not long before she has you pinned underneath her.

“Hi,” you smile at her, leaning up for a kiss.

“All that and all you want to say to me is ‘hi’?”

“Yeah.” She rolls her eyes and flips you over as you yelp in surprise. You’re about to start questioning her when a sharp sting lights up your ass.

“Ah- Minho! Hey!”

“Stop squirming. I’m not done yet.” There’s another smack over your pants before she pulls them down and her palm is connecting with skin.

“This isn’t fair! I didn’t even do anything!” You’re protesting while laying limply across her lap. She laughs at you.

“‘This isn’t fair’ she whines. Why is your pussy so wet then, hmm?” She spreads your legs a bit and lands a smack there too, snickering when your legs close reflexively on her hand. “Be a good girl, jagi. Take what you’re given.”)

-

It’s sunny when you ask her. The air is hot and humid and she’s wearing this dress that’s making your brain melt out of your ears. You’re having a picnic, because you can, and she’s talking about this show that she’s watching with Jisung.

“And then- and you’ll never fucking believe this- he goes ‘I could never court her’ and she overhears. If that happened to me I would literally explode.” You hum, shoving a heart shaped sandwich in her mouth while you look at her side profile. She’s beautiful, sharp nose and a round face. You want to live the rest of your life with her.

You’ve talked about it before, on hazy mornings when the rest of the world is just waking. In the middle of the night when the only sound is the hoot of owls and the buzz of crickets. At lunch, at dinner, at breakfast. In the shower, over the phone, through text messaging when you’re at work. You both are listed on the cat's vet information, something she changed a year into dating that she was nervous about telling you.

  “I don’t want you to feel pressured,” she’d said, “or like they’re your responsibility. I can take you off if you want, but I thought that if I was out of town or if something happened, you should be able to take care of them.” She’d been nervous, ears red with shame instead of the cute way they flush when you flirt with her. 

“Thank you, jagi.” You don’t often call her that, preferring to torture her with bad puns using the syllables of her name, so her breath catches in her throat.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

She knows every order that you get from fast food restaurants, she hounded your parents for their chicken noodle soup recipe when you got sick one time. She learned how to make your grandma’s spaghetti sauce and let’s you call her mommy in bed because it makes you feel safe.

She’s everything to you and then some, so when you tap her shoulder and hold out the ring you bought, it’s as natural as breathing. A fact of life, an inevitability. The sky is blue, the grass is green, you are going to marry Lee Minho.

“He keeps friendzoning her. It's absolutely despicable, like, are you blind or something-” She turns her gaze to you and her eyes go wide. “You’re joking.” Her eyes are welling with tears, something that you hardly ever see.

“I’m as serious as a heart attack, baby. Will you be my wife? I promise if you say yes I’ll start helping you make the bed in the morning instead of laying on it and making your job harder.” She hugs you, knocking you back onto the blanket you’re sitting on. The movement tips over your cup of lemonade and you damn near lose the ring.

“Of course I will. And you most certainly will not help. But that’s okay, I love you even if you create weird bumps in my sheets and mess up my hard work not five seconds after it’s done.” She kisses your face all over, resembling more like an overexcited puppy than the cats she favors, and you grab her hand to slip the ring on it.

“I love you, Minho. I really do.”

“I can’t believe I get to marry the most beautiful girl in the world,” she says, looking down at her hand.

“You don’t,” you start, kissing her cheekbone. “You don’t get to marry the most beautiful girl in the world. I do.”

(“You know,” she starts as you’re packing up, “I was going to propose to you soon.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Absolutely I am not.” She fishes around the pocket of her dress before pulling out a ring.

“This is so funny. Can I still have it?”

“Of course, it’s yours,” she slips it onto your finger, face heating up to match her ears, “everything I have is yours. Everything and then some.”)

#bee blurbs #ft.lino #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x you #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #lee minho x reader #happy pride month everyone #auntie lee know #would it be too much to tag this post with lesbians

[vampiresfromxenon]

Wine About It, Then.

Astarion x nonbinary! Reader/Tav

Around 3.7K words 

Tags: Drunk individuals, p in v, tiniest bit of breeding kink (i -lovingly- blame Ruby fangswithbenefits), smut, literally just so smutty smut smut (Not dubcon! Clear consent only!!), aftercare :)

Summary: At the night of the tiefling party, after quite some time celebrating with your friends, you notice that Astarion has gone missing. Not wanting to leave him out of the fun, you set off into the woods, hoping to find him in his favorite little spot. Not only do you find him, you suggest you both experiment with something new… Something about your blood and the alcohol that has tainted your system. Wipe off your glasses, it’s steamy in here! 

Pre-fic Author’s note: This is my first time writing smut ever- it was really strange and I’m obviously not familiar with writing it, but I really admire a lot of the writers whose smut I've read and enjoyed. Shout out to the many of you who inspired me to write this, I hope that everyone who reads it enjoys it :) As a gentle reminder, please be kind! I am just a tiny little guy who wanted to have a goofy romance with the charming video game vampire!!

~

It’s a night to celebrate, given you and your party have just made a clear and safe path for the tieflings of the grove to head to Moonrise Inn. Zevlor has thanked you countless times for this great gift, and to your surprise, even Rolan said something with a hint of gratitude. In order to give proper thanks, a party was organized in your honor as a way of sending off the Tieflings.

As the sun begins to set, corks pop, and dancing begins. Not wanting to waste a second with your companions, you set off on a mission to speak to everyone about your perilous adventures. Starting off with Karlach, your favorite fireball. The two of you chat about your time together, and how she really wishes she could give you a hug. Realizing just how impossible it is for the time being, you both settle for the next best form of affection she would accept: a beer chugging challenge.

…It’s no surprise that Karlach immediately out drunk you, but she applauded your trying efforts and was sure to let you know that she thought your wretched belch was nothing short of adorable. 

Lae’zel was not one for the party, though she did find some enjoyment in the amount of tieflings approaching her to thank her and tell her how brave they thought she was. While she is prone to speaking her mind, and that is something you are very used to, you nearly spit out your drink when she admitted that she wanted to bed you on this night. With a smile, you politely declined. It wasn’t her feelings you were necessarily worried about, it was more so the knife she went on to sharpen that really gave you goosebumps. 

Wyll was off by the coastline, admiring the view. He felt a bit self conscious about his looks and his troubles with Mizora that he thought it would be better if he avoided the party for the night. Not wanting to leave your friend feeling left out, you offered him a dance. He happily obliged, dancing with you in the sand for a few minutes before he begged you to leave him be and not let him ruin your night. While you insisted he wasn’t, you still left him to his privacy. 

Gale was more than delighted to see you, especially since he wanted to show you just how many tiefling children he was impressing with minor magic tricks. When you joined in, his face lit up. It had become quite obvious just how drunk the wizard really was, and while you thought to maybe stop letting him light things on fire, you knew that things would be alright… Hopefully. 

Shadowheart was off in her little tent area, enjoying the party from afar. She claimed she wasn’t really one for big parties, but deep down you know she’d throw ass if just enough alcohol was involved. After some time chatting, she invited you to enjoy a bottle of wine with her, and though you were about to agree, you realized exactly what that meant. You were flattered, to say the least, and it’s not to say that it hasn’t crossed your mind from time to time, but you already had someone else you felt connected to. 

While you were sheepishly trying to turn her down, you looked behind you and noticed that Astarion was not outside his tent. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. Before your drunk thoughts could connect, Shadowheart rolled her eyes and connected them for you. 

“While you may not want to share a bottle of wine with me, it seems that someone else really wanted to. I saw him sauntering off into the woods with a couple bottles less than an hour ago.”

Connections began to form by the ton, and your face was overcome with a hot blush. Shadowheart, slightly tired of the two of you now, urges you to go after him, or at least stop being awkward in front of her. You head off between the trees, trying to find your lover. 

Normally you’d find his normal hiding spot with ease, but being a little drunk makes things challenging. Was it the tree with the owlbear shaped moss that you turned left at? Or was that the jagged looking rock…? Before you can make a decision, you trip on an unseen root and nearly eat shit. You’re hero material, you are. 

Luckily for you, a strong set of pale arms grabs you just before your face becomes one with nature. Before you can even react, you are scooped up and carried away, though it’s not more than a minute before you are set down to stand on your own. 

Standing before you in the clearing is the gorgeous pale elf you’ve devoted all your passionate dreams to. He stands on a pile of soft blankets and pillows, a basket of assorted wines and cheeses accompanying him. 

“Here’s my little treat with their cheeks all flushed. I see you’ve spared no expense with the booze tonight, my dear.”

You let out a flustered giggle when you feel his hand still lingering on your waist. “You’ve been missing out on the party, everyone there wanted to see you.” Your words slightly slurred. 

“You and I both know that isn’t true, why else would only you be here, and neither of us out there.” 

Before you can think of a clever response, he notices how much you’re swaying and guides you down to his makeshift bed. “I believe you may have had too much to drink, my sweet.” He smiles, trying to hide his disgust when he catches a whiff of your alcohol stained breath. 

“I’m barely even tipsy, I can’t believe you think I’m a lightweight!” You chuckle before reaching up and booping his nose. He laughs but not before quickly removing your hand from his face. 

“Perhaps we should just relax here for a bit, no? I had some wine and cheese planned for you, but I think the… uh… cheese, may be too much for you in this state.” 

“I’m fine, really!” You hiccup before a slightly demanding voice leaves your lips as you sink into the bedding, your body relaxing next to his. “Oh, you’re really showing me now…” He teasingly whispers as he holds you, both of you bathing in the glow of the moon. After a few minutes of peace, you come up with an idea. It may be bold, brilliant you may even call it, or it may be downright stupid. Better to ask than rot in a pit of unanswered curiosity, right?

“If you were to drink from me, if I were hypothetically extremely drunk, would that also get you really drunk? What would that even taste like for you?” Staring up at the moon, you get lost in thought imagining the possibilities. He lies there for a moment, considering your question.

“I-I’m actually not sure. I’ve never done something like that before. I can imagine that the alcohol would impact me, but I’m not quite sure to what effect…” That was all he needed to say before you sat straight up, clumsily crawling over him to the basket of wine that you could only assume he stole. 

“I vote we find out! What do you think, judge?” His eyes flash you a daring look at your sudden interest and his sarcastic nickname, but his smile reads otherwise. 

“I suppose a few drops wouldn’t hurt. All in the name of experimentation, eh?” You crack open a bottle of wine and dismiss the glasses, drinking straight from the bottle. Given your already extremely drunk nature, this wine was more than enough to keep you feeling drunk for a while. Eager to see how this all plays out, you expose your neck to him the second you drop the empty bottle on the silky blankets. 

“Perhaps we should get a bit more comfortable?” His voice is dripping with desire as he leans you back, allowing you to relax before he bites. 

As your head hits the pillow, his nose lingers on your neck. Tilting your neck further to allow even more access, he takes his time with you. One hand on your hip, the other cradling your head as his nose brushes against the sensitive skin of your neck. His cold breath lingers on your skin, sending goosebumps through your whole body as he continues on. 

You can’t help but shutter as his cold lips make contact next, gentle kisses plastered along the artery in your neck. The heat in your face only grows, an insatiable need rumbling in your stomach as he teases your nerves. 

Just before you can begin to protest, his fangs pierces your neck, a strangled moan escaping your lips. The icy, sharp feeling in your neck returns, a familiar and welcomed sensation from all the other nights he’s fed on you. Your skin stings for a short time, a tear staining your face as the pain begins to subside and warm again. 

You can’t tell if it’s the alcohol, loss of blood, or the fact that he’s ravenously sucking at your neck like a starving animal, but you begin to feel slightly light-headed. Gods forbid you halt your experiment early, you couldn’t live with yourself knowing that you stopped this… science. So early into its testing. 

As he continues to drink, his skin grows warmer and warmer, much to the point where his face is a flushed pink color. His drinking becomes more desperate as it begins to slow; small moans and whimpers escape his throat as he holds on for as long as he can. As his fangs begin to slide out, they are quickly replaced by his tongue gently swiping away the stray drops of blood that were determined to drip down your body. While he was intensely interested in licking your entire body clean of blood, tonight was not that night. 

You watch through half-lidded eyes as he sits up, his hand on his cheek as he feels just how fiery his face is. For the first time he can ever remember, he is impressed by how warm his body is. “So… How do you feel? Did it work?” 

“S’fine. Feels good. So warm.” His voice wobbles as he speaks. Both of you burst out laughing at how drunk he became. “It worked!” You cheered, giggling at the sight of your drunk boyfriend swaying in his seat from his sudden intoxication. 

Without any hesitation, he leans forward and kisses you, an intense amount of fire and passion behind it. He nearly smacks his face into yours as he pushes you down into the pillows, the fresh alcohol coursing through his body already impacting his motions. You’d be a fool to not give in though, your hands quickly finding purchase in his curly white hair. All of this is quite literally intoxicating, a fire beginning to brew in your lower half. 

In his drunken state, his kisses become sloppy, his tongue pressing against your lower lip before his fangs nip at it. By accident, he nipped it enough to draw blood, but you were too drunk and aroused to care or truly even notice. He loudly whines, his mouth consuming yours as he laps at the small amount of blood leaving your lips.

You part your lips, allowing his tongue entry. In all his excitement, a moan rumbles from his throat when your tongue playfully meets his. He pushes his body harder against yours, climbing on top of you to close any and all gaps that could be found between your bodies. His leg hooks under your knee, lazily tossing it to the side to make even more room for him. 

Desperate hands grasp your body as your legs spread, his hips filling that void. His body shakes with excitement as you moan from the feeling of his bulge against your clothed cunt. 

The blood you’ve given him has always made him hard to a certain extent, but never this hard. Heavily enjoying this new feeling, he grinds his hips into yours, his lips still secured to yours. Panting, moaning, desperate whining fills the surrounding area as you two drunk idiots makeout, your bodies intertwined as he continues to grind his hardness into your arousal. 

He tears his shirt off, tossing it to the side, his bare chest covered in sweat, a new and unfamiliar sensation for him. His lips stray from yours, his tongue tracing your jaw before finding your neck once more. Sucking, biting, teasing your neck, you continue to pant, your body on fire from his touch.

He begins to unlace your shirt, his warm hands exploring the soft skin underneath. One hand clumsily untucks it from your pants, grasping your bare waist with a strong desire as he lifts the shirt over your head and throws it with his shirt. Teeth and tongue make their way to your chest, quickly latching on to a nipple. A pathetic whine leaves your mouth as he sucks on one, his hand teasing the other. 

Strong hands continue to grip his hair, pulling hard enough to encourage him, but not enough to get him off of you. Switching to the next nipple, he is sure to give you as much attention as his lazy, drunk tongue can provide. His tongue begins to lick down your body, taking in each and every curve as he heads towards your throbbing cunt. 

Before he can make any progress, he sits up, a strained look on his face. Frantic hands begin to untie the laces of his pants, a large bulge making the fabric look quite tight. As he frees his twitching cock, he tosses his head back, a sigh of relief expelled. It’s clear that he leaked quite a bit of pre-cum in his pants, and more drips on his hand as he grips it, his body trembling. 

“Let me help you with that-” Your voice wavering, yet seductive. Sitting up, you reach for his hands, wanting to take over, but it seems he has other plans for you. His hand grabs yours, squeezing it around his cock, causing him to groan. 

“Do you feel just how hard you make me? I’ve never wanted to be inside you more, I want- need to be buried in you, I need to share this warmth with you.” He growls, your clit throbbing with excitement. Your jaw drops; he’s never left you this speechless before. He takes this opportunity to remove both his pants and your own, climbing on top of you and caging you in. Once again, his leg hooks yours, and you can’t help but feel thrilled by his sudden domination over you. 

It takes him several moments to line up his cock with your slick folds, grunting as he grinds it against them, mixing slick with pre-cum. As he desperately ruts against you, both of you let out impatient sighs, craving so much more friction. At one point he thrusts and definitely misses your entrance, and you can’t help but laugh at how bad this is going thus far. He shoots you a dirty look but all you can do is flash him a cheeky smile, enjoying every moment with him, even if you know the sex will probably be pretty bad. In his newfound drunken frustration, it’s not long before he’s sloppily lining up the head of his cock with your opening, pushing in slightly faster than he normally would. He bottoms out, his balls slapping your ass. 

“Gods…” He slurs out, his head pressed against your shoulder. “Fuck!” You whine, tossing your head back. His cock throbs as you squeeze around him, trying to adjust to how large and hard he feels this time around. “I- *huf* darling- If you keep squeezing like that *hahh~ mmm-* I won’t last much longer.” 

“You gonna come too quick?” You tilt your face towards his, smiling at him. “Drunk you is so needy and desperate, i like him…” He pushes his cock harder into you in response, slamming into that spot that craves so much attention.

All of this was so overstimulating for your body that all you could reply with was a muffled moan. Lightly biting your shoulder, he pulls almost all the way out before harshly thrusting back into you. Your body tingles with electricity, this new side of him bringing so much unexpected pleasure. However, since both of you are wasted beyond belief, his thrusts follow a very sloppy rhythm. 

Strings of curses, moans, whimpers and whines float into your ear as he continues to snap his hips into yours, his balls smacking your ass with each movement. This act resulted in loud, wet, lewd slapping sounds echoing throughout the trees, coupled with desperate, drunken moans. 

Still gripping his hair, you pull his head from your shoulder to see just how strained he looked at this moment. His face is pinker than ever before, sweat beading on his skin as he grits his teeth, his fangs shining in the moonlight. 

As if he just rediscovered you, his lips crash back onto yours, his tongue fighting yours for dominance. Completely surrendering to him, you sink even further into the pillows as he pounds your cunt, his cock sending bursts of pleasure up your spine each time he hits your cervix. 

“I’m- I’m gonna-” He slurs against your lips before he covers your cheeks in wet kisses. 

“N-not yet- *mMm* hold it. Keep going, please~” you whine, not ready for this to end. He lets out the neediest whine against your shoulder. 

“I don’t know if I can- *fuck* darling, I’m so- so close-“ His rhythm gets even sloppier, his legs trembling, his voice wavering. His eyes are clenched shut as he tries his hardest to not come just yet. 

“Please-“ You’ve never seen him quite this desperate, crying out this loudly. This is enough for you to nearly climax on your own, and you realize you’re not as far behind him anymore.

“Inside-” Is all you can muster, your breath catching in your throat as you feel yourself getting closer and closer. 

Hitting the most delicious spot, your back arches, eyes rolling back as you cry out his name, gasping. Your hands claw at his back, holding on for dear life as your orgasm rips through you like a bolt of lighting. Your body’s contractions are always enough to break him sober, so it’s no shock that this absolutely shatters him while massively intoxicated. 

A few more strong, desperate, sloppy thrusts and he’s gasping for air, his body shuttering against yours. Your abdomen feels warm as his spend fills you up, not a single drop wasted, his cock stopping any from leaking out. 

He collapses on top of you, his head resting on your chest. A few moments pass before you run your fingers through his slightly damp hair, pushing the wet strands off of his forehead before leaning up to kiss it. 

“You’re perfect every time, my dear,” he mutters as he rests his eyes, his hands around your back to hold you closely. “We should get you drunk a little more often,” You quietly laugh, his head bobbing as your chest vibrates from the laughter. 

His eyes open as he turns to look up at you, the moon reflecting in his red irises. It’s clear that he’s not as intoxicated as you started, and that’s also proven when he starts to speak like himself again. “I’ve never felt that level of pleasure before… It’s not to say that I don’t feel great bouts of pleasure with you, but this was just so… different.” 

“Did you enjoy it, though?” You check in on him. He takes a moment to analyze what you’ve just asked him. 

“I did- quite a bit, I must add.” He quietly adds “Thank you, this was a gift. I won’t forget it.” You lovingly kiss him on the cheek before he softly kisses your lips, the hunger from earlier fading away. 

He slowly begins to pull out of you, both of you still extremely sensitive. You shutter from the emptiness, as well as his cum leaking out of your swollenness. “Uh, uh, uh. Tsk. This should never go to waste.” He uses two fingers to collect his spend, shoving it back into your still overly sensitive cunt. 

A smirk spreads across his face when he feels you clench around his fingers, but he removes them, abandoning all hope for a round two. However, your heart races at the sight of him licking his fingers, all while maintaining eye contact with you. 

“We taste delightfully sweet.” A growl laced laugh erupts from his throat; he clearly enjoys teasing you and watching you squirm from just how aroused he makes you. 

“Stay here a moment, my love.” Grabbing a small cloth, he dresses in his pants before wandering off into the woods. Nothing more than a moment later, just like he promised, he returns with the slightly damp cloth. Kneeling before you, he spreads your legs in a kinder, less sexual but still romantic way as he cleans up the mess the two of you made. Returning your underwear to you, he offers you a blanket as he snuggles up with you under the stars. 

“Shall we remain here for the night?” He whispers, though his actions have made his choice clear. “Anywhere is perfect, so long as it’s with you.” You sigh, resting your head on his bare chest.

A deep sense of love can be found in your eyes as you gaze at him. He holds you tighter, tilting your head up to kiss the corner of your mouth, sharing in the same level of fondness. 

“Sweetest of dreams, my dear.” 

“Goodnight, Astarion.”

~

Post-fic scene honorable mention:

Astarion suddenly remembering that large intakes of alcohol can lead to hangovers, and he is certainly a ‘ray of sunshine’ when waking up extremely hungover with Tav feeling the same way. Safe to say that when he gets back to camp, he is not lifting a finger that day- He is going to rest for a bit with cucumber slices over his eyes, as well as something over his ears since ‘the world is skull crushingly loud’. 

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #nsft #astarion nsft #astarion smut #astarion x you #astarion x nb! tav #soft astarion #no y/n #astarion fic #astarion x reader

[peachhcs]

can we get any this from Sammy and Will at world I just need my broken heart to be fix for one moment

night out in prague

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

a night off in the city leads to the usa men's team heading into the city for a much needed night out.

1.4k words

as promised, here is some of samy and will at worlds before they broke up because i said i would still write about their happy moments in between the sadness to get a small break from the angst :)

au masterlist

will's gaze stuck itself to samy as she walked towards him with a drunk smile spread across her lips. she wandered off towards the bar an hour ago taking shots with some of the girlfriends of the guys with will keeping a watchful eye on her a few tables away. he enjoyed seeing her get along so well with the others despite their age difference to some of the other players on the team.

the blonde forgot his conversation he was having as samy reached his side. he quickly smiled down at her, "hi."

"hi. miss anything exciting?" the girl wondered, tucking her head into will's shoulder since he was her height sitting in the booth.

"not really. enjoy your shots?" will chuckled lightly when samy eagerly nodded.

"so good. you should've done a round with us," the brunette always got more touchy whenever she got drunk. her fingers reached to will's curls to play with them and the action had the boy flushing.

he loved the feeling of samy's fingers in his hair, but being around everyone else while she did it was still something the boy was getting used to.

the other guys at the table hardly even noticed, but it still sent a blush across will's cheeks nonetheless.

"i'm hungry," samy mumbled as she leaned more into her boyfriend. his arm wrapped around her waist basically keeping her up against him.

"wanna leave soon?" will wondered.

"no, i'm okay. don't wanna pull you away," she hummed towards the guys still in their own conversation will stopped listening to.

"i don't mind. i was thinking about leaving soon anyway," the blonde said.

"are you sure?" samy never wanted to pull her boyfriend away if he wasn't ready to leave. she didn't mind hanging around longer as long as she probably started drinking water instead of more alcohol.

"yeah, i'm sure. don't worry," the hockey player beamed up at her. his smile was hard to ignore knowing he was being serious, so samy returned it.

"okay, as long as you're sure. i'll say bye to luke," the younger girl caught sight of her brother a few tables down.

the middle hughes saw his sister walking towards him, smiling a bit, "what's up little hughesy?" poor samy would never escape that nickname, especially whenever she was around her brothers since they were always "hughesy" before her.

"will and i are gonna leave. just wanted to let you know," the girl told the older boy.

"leaving already?" cole wondered from beside luke.

"yeah, i think those rounds of shots did me in," samy chuckled lightly.

"i can tell. your cheeks always get red whenever you have a lot of alcohol," luke quickly squeezed samy's cheeks which instantly made her pull back.

"shut up. you're the same," the girl poked her brother's flushed cheeks. he just rolled his eyes while the others laughed.

"have fun back at the hotel. don't be too loud," trevor teased earning an eye roll from samy and a gagging motion from luke.

"god, do not say that shit around me about my sister. gross. text me when you get back," luke shook his head in disgust.

"you're such a baby. see you," samy pinched her brother's arm before finding her way back to will who finished paying their tab.

"ready?" the blonde hooked his arm around samy's waist again. the girl nodded, so the two hurried out before anyone could stop them and drag them back in.

the city slowed down once night hit besides the few cabs driving through the streets and people wandering back home from the bars much like samy and will were doing. prague was so beautiful at night, too. the girl's gaze was glued to the buildings with incredible architecture that reached into the sky.

"i could stay here forever," samy mumbled.

"you and me both," will hummed, his hand going to intertwine with samy's

"do you ever wish you could stay in the countries you travel to forever?" the youngest hughes' gaze fell on her boyfriend. from the side he was stunning. his curls started growing back out after his last haircut and his entire face in general was just to die for.

"yeah, sometimes. i wish we'd get more time to explore," will's own gaze flicked across the impressive buildings and night sky.

"i don't know if i've said this, but i really like traveling with you. it's really fun and it's been super awesome cheering you and my brother on," samy felt will's hold tighten on her hand. he met her gaze with a smile, stopping them on the sidewalk for a moment.

"i'm really glad you're here. it means a lot that you came out and i hope we can continue doing this," the two exchanged warm smiles before their lips were on each other's seconds later.

will's told tightened on samy's hips as their kiss deepened. the streets of prague were practically empty, so the couple used that by their advantage to kiss under the starts as cheesy as it all sounded. samy's fingers tugged at the curls on the back of will's head making him kiss her even harder. they practically lost themselves in one another.

"you're so beautiful," will mumbled when they finally pulled apart for air.

"i love you," samy hummed earning a large smile from her boyfriend.

"i love you more," the blonde placed one more kiss to her lips before making them continue walking to the hotel.

the rest of their walk was spent in comfortable silence. the two gently swung their connected hands back and forth until reaching the hotel. the front desk nodded to them as will dug out his key card to take them to their floor.

once will kicked their door open, samy stumbled in. she tore her heels off, falling back onto the bed with a happy smile painting her lips. the blonde chuckled seeing her sprawled out across the bed, quickly plopping down beside her as the two began staring at the ceiling. 

"be honest with me. are you signing when we get back?" samy wondered because she saw the news headlines and all the circulation about will, gabe, and ryan possibly signing. the couple hadn't talked much about it since they lost the ncaa finals as will kept it pretty sparse around her and everyone else. 

because of samy's slightly intoxicated state, she didn't pick up on the hesitation in her boyfriend's face nor the way the smile faded from his lips. she just assumed he didn't hear her or something. 

"i'm not sure," his answer finally came. 

"i feel like there's so much speculation going around. i mean, i'd be happy for you either way," the girl shrugged, a light smile tugging on her lips still. 

she missed will's hesitation again because he just rolled over so he was on his side and samy met his gaze. "i know you'd be happy for me either way. i think you're my number 1 supporter," the boy chuckled. 

"well, after your family, i hope i'd be. have i ever missed any of your games when you were close to or in michigan?" the brunette raised her eyebrow. 

will's smile faltered a bit, but again, samy didn't notice. her hand reached up to caress the boy's cheek as he leaned into her soft touch before kissing the inside of her palm. his gesture had samy giggling before pulling him into a real kiss against her lips. she fell back against the bed again as the hockey player sort of hovered above her so he wasn't completely crushing her with all of his body weight. 

the two continued making out until will pulled away knowing it was late and samy was intoxicated so they couldn't take it further. she pouted though when his lips left hers, "why'd you stop?" 

"it's late, we should go to bed. i got practice in the morning," the blonde chuckled. 

"when has that ever stopped you?" the girl teased some making will blush. 

"maybe when you're not drunk, yeah?" he grinned, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek instead. 

"fine," the boy rolled off of her back onto his feet where he reached his hands out to help her back up. 

the couple exchanged warm smiles before samy started towards the bathroom to wipe her makeup off and get ready for bed. fifteen minutes later, they were ready for bed in their pajamas or in will's case, pajama pants and no shirt. samy flicked the lights off before crawling into his side, snuggling into her boyfriend's extended arm. 

"i love you, sleep well," samy hummed into the boy's chest. he smiled even though she couldn't see it. 

"i love you, too," he placed one last kiss to the top of her head and then quickly knocked out for the night, soft snores filling the hotel room. 

#will smith hockey #hughes!sister x will smith au #samy x will #samy hughes #boston college hockey #boston college #will smith x oc #will smith imagine #uofmichigan #umich hockey #san jose sharks #sjs #ws6 #will smith hockey fluff #umich soccer #umich wolverines #luke hughes #bc eagles #bc hockey #trevor zegras #boston college hockey imagine #boston college hockey blurb #boston college imagine

[getawayfox]

Happy birthday, darling @wolfpants! I’m bringing you a banner with Draco on it since you share a birthday with him, what a fun coincidence! When deciding how to celebrate you and your writing, I knew I wanted to do an author’s reclist but wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it because every single fic in your catalogue is worth a rec of its own. So I took inspiration from an ask game - a list of categories I could fill with my rambling. I hope you have a wonderful birthday full of nice things! ILY! 🤍

🤍 A fic I want to read again for the first time: Under Giant Mountains (Drarry, E, 34k)

I thought about it for a long time because I would give anything to experience all of them for the first time again but eventually, I landed on Under Giant Mountains. It feels a bit sacred to me and I think it’s because I relate to this Harry a lot; because it’s a gentle story about healing; because it made me cry but in that really good, cathartic way. I think it will do the same regardless of how many times I read it.

🤍 A fic I reread the most times: Pages of You (Drarry, E, 102k)

According to AO3 the fic I have visited the most is Pages of You, which is no surprise. Do I share how many times I clicked on that fic? Is it embarrassing? Probably. Oh well, here it is:

Look, it’s my comfort fic, okay? What can I say - an 80s coming-of-age story? Sign me the hell up. In all honesty, I don’t really have words to describe how this fic makes me feel - it’s like a safety net for my inner child maybe, or something similarly, horribly cheesy. It’s a book I want to own, have on my bookshelf, and return to it over and over again. Maybe one day it will be.

🤍 A fic that made me (re)consider a ship: Spellbound (Draco/Albus, E, 2k)

So here is the thing - I’m pretty faithful to my favourite ships and don’t often read outside of them, except when it’s a rarepair that catches my eye and then I’m happy to be persuaded. And Wolf is brilliant at that, honestly, they could talk me into anything. And so even when it comes to a ship I didn’t know I needed, like Draco/Albus for instance, I just know that in their hands, it’s gonna be layered and thought-provoking and just so, so delicious. Here is the proof: Spellbound, a Dead Dove fic that is just the perfect flavour of dirtyhotwrong. Yum.

🤍 A favourite rarepair fic: Galvanize (Scorpius/Ron, M, 1k)

Speaking of rarepairs. Wolf has a whole collection of kinkuary fics, which is a rarepair heaven, go forth and pick your poison. I’m gonna go with Galvanize, in support of Hot Ron Agenda ™. It’s an M-rated Scorpius/Ron fic and the dynamic here is unmatched - so innocent and yet. Gah!

🤍 A line from a fic that’s haunted me: Waiting for the Moon to Rise (Drarry with a hint of Bill, E, 9k)

This is hard because I can think of many (see QQR) but if I had to choose just one, it would have to be this masterpiece:

—his voice had been thick, Draco remembers that, because he’d been eating an apple stolen from the kitchens on their way outside. He kept trying to get Draco to eat it too, playfully pressing the bitten edges to his mouth, damp like a kiss, until Draco had pushed him off him with a laugh— “stop that, Potter, or I’ll shove it someplace where it’ll hurt ”—and all the while, his lips had tingled with sweetness, a phantom caress he would take to his bed later that night and think about with his hands while the rest of the Eighth Year boys would sleep and snore, none the wiser—

Which is of course from Waiting for the Moon to Rise, featuring an intimate friendship, lots of UST and Bill the matchmaker 😏

🤍 A fic that ripped my heart out (but it hurt so good): The Hollow (Remus/Draco, E, 12.5k)

Oh boy. We’ve all read The Hollow, right? Right. It’s one of those fics I think about so often it can’t be healthy and yet I can’t go anywhere near it again because I don’t think I would survive a second read. It’s so, so, so good. It’s so painful. It’s everything I want from the pairing. I never want to see it again. It carved itself into my heart and will stay there forever.

🤍 A fic that made me laugh: Romp and Circumstance (Drarry, E, 33k)

So. Many. Wolf’s banter in fics is unmatched but for the sake of this game I have to say one, so I’ll go with Romp and Circumstance - and as much as this fic is hilarious, it’s also so full of love and longing and romance. It’s so vibrant! A perfectly executed AU with characterizations that are just chef’s kiss!

🤍 A song I now associate with a fic: Everybody Hates a Tourist (Drarry, E, 52k)

I will always associate Common People by Pulp with Everybody Hates a Tourist. I remember sitting in a beach cafe last year and the song started playing and immediately transferred me into the holiday vibes of the fic. I’m obsessed with both Harry and Draco in this story: with who they are, separately, and eventually together. Their characters are written so brilliantly here; they’re both given space to grow into themselves, into what they want out of life and their getting together feels like the most natural thing in the world.

🤍 A fic that’s between me and my AO3 history: Seat You Higher than the Stars (Ron/Harry, E, 1,8k)

Ha! I have no secrets or shame. Nothing is just between me and AO3, I’m an open book and will shout about it, and especially about this fic I thought was fitting (pun intended) for this category - just look at the tags: emotional vulnerability and fisting (elmo fire emoji). This is Seat you Higher than the Stars, a Ronarry fic that has got to be one of my favourite things ever written. It’s so tender and beautiful! 

🤍 A fic that feels like a warm blanket: Thickets (Drarry, E, 17k)

That is *exactly* how reading Thickets feels. Oh, this fic. So gentle and mature, full of soft, quiet pining and second chances. It’s so atmospheric and nostalgic. Layered with complicated grief and vowed with humor and warmth, this fic is simply stunning. It’s a getting back together story that feels like a deep exhale. It’s melancholic and hopeful and it has one of my favourite characters of all time - a portrait of Young Draco to perfectly illustrate just how far current Draco has come.

🤍 A fic I want to be made into a film: Led by Light of a Star Sweetly Gleaming (Sirius/Remus, E, 53k)

My Wolfstar-loving heart could not forget this story - in a way a prequel to Pages of You but also a standalone fic set in the '60s. Wolf’s worldbuilding and attention to detail really shine here - it would make such a stunning film! But it’s not just that, it’s the characters, too, where the magic lies: completely in awe of each other and unbearably lovely. “You’ve no idea how much I want to worship you.” will be forever my favourite thing Sirius has ever said.

#wolfpants #reclist #drarry #wolfstar #rarepairs

[cardinal-crossing]

Another edition to the flower series!! I had a lot of fun once again, and I think this one took even longer, at just shy of 7 hours. I am so happy that I'm graduating in a few days so I can do more stuff like this. It really does make me very happy to just sit down and paint for a few hours. This piece is a companion piece to the Emmet One, I did a few days ago.

Again, the flower meanings will be under the cut, but read at your discretion because it makes the piece sad.

Alright so flower meanings! Again most of the flowers mean grief in some aspect, but it's also related to memory (or the loss of) Rosemary Flowers (top left in the hat): Rosemary flowers usually represent love and remembrance. In this case, they represent Ingo's love for his missing person but the pain that comes with not being able to remember.

Asphodel Flowers (On the left near Ingo's face): The Asphodel flowers mean, "My regrets follow you to the grave," but it can also mean, "I will remember you beyond the tomb." The second meaning is the one that I am referencing, as Ingo will likely never see Emmet again, but he remembers that he misses someone, and regrets that he never got to meet them again.

White Camellia (over the eye): This flower means a few different things, but the one that I am referencing is the meaning "longing for you." I believe the camellia is akin to the rose, where its more familiar meaning is romance or heartbreak. Still, the meaning I am deriving from is one of the Victorian languages of flowers (there is a fantastic book I will reference at the very end of it is incredible and I love it dearly) Anyway, this flower is self-explanatory in the way that Ingo longs for the person he never remembers and likely will never see again, but he wishes he could. Forget-Me-Nots (on the right by Ingo's face): I reused this flower from the other piece to connect the two pieces, but I'll reuse the meaning here, as I am using it in the same context. Forget-me-nots represent true love; this flower means love and respect towards the person it is gifted to, and the person will never be forgotten in your thoughts. I am slightly alluding to maybe Ingo being gifted this flower by Emmet before he departed, as a reminder that someone respects and loves him very much, but Ingo cannot remember who. However, I haven't decided yet. Lily of the Valley (Very bottom in the bouquet): The lily of the valley's lesser-known meaning, the pain, and loss that comes with death, is the one I'm using. Representing Ingo's minimal memory of Emmet and Emmet essentially dying within Ingo's mind as Ingo makes a new home for himself in Hisui. However, despite all the sadness and loss, Ingo hasn't forgotten entirely. Willow Tree Leaves (on the right side in the hat band): I reused these as well, as I really like the shape of the leaves and how I worked it into the piece, I'll also reuse the same explanation of the meaning. While not technically a flower, the willow tree has its own meaning. A willow tree often represents sorrow and loss, as well as mourning. OKAY! Here is my rant about flowers. Also, the book I referenced is Florigrophy by Jessica Roux. I love all the illustrations, and the writing and explanations are wonderful. I am working on getting a copy of my own, as I have been borrowing the one from my school library, but it is wonderful. I would recommend it. Thank you so much for reading this! I love flowers, and painting them is one of my favorite things.

#cardinals art #submas #flower series #rosemary #asphodel flower #camellia flower #forget me nots #lily of the valley flower #willow tree leaves #warden ingo #pla #tw eye contact

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Soo BBG, since you decided to challenge me I’d like to offer you the same challenge:

Slutty Drabble, the first character you think of~

Have fun and Take. Your. Time. Don’t want you stressing yourself alright?

Just a little bit where dark!Bucky punishes you.

Ohhhh bbg, I had a lot of thought since I got your request but I guess this one will be the best?😏😏

Pairing -> Dark!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings -> 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dark!Bucky, mean!Bucky, jealousy, oral (male!receiving), deep throating, using of a toy (fem!receiving), degrading

“Think you can look at my best friend like a little whore, huh? Fuck, take it you fucking little slut,” Bucky say through gritted teeth. His cock pushing further down your throat and you gag around his huge length.

He hates when you look at another man, not caring who it is. When he is talking to someone your eyes have to be either on him or on the ground, how can you even dare to look at someone who isn’t Bucky?

“Such a slut, cock hungry little whore. Think you can look at him without consequences?” He growls, thrusting his cock in and out of you.

Honestly, he loves to see your fucked up look. Kneeling in front of him, big, watering eyes looking up at him while he uses you like he pleases. A sex toy pushed into your pussy, hitting all the right spots while you’re not allowed to come. In case you do, he has a worse punishment for you and Bucky has stamina, he can fuck you all night without problem, denying all your orgasm until you almost pass out.

Your fingers dig into his thick thighs while saliva runs down your chin and over your chest. Bucky loves that, he could let you suck his cock all day, making you choke on it.

Your walls clench around the toy in your tight, dripping pussy but you’re too focused on recognising it. You try to press Bucky away, needing a moment to breath but he doesn’t give it to you, just thrusting in a brutal and fast pace into your mouth, smirking when you try to cough.

“Fucking whore, see what you’re doing to me? Turning me into an animal. You made me fucking jealous and I hate it, but won’t lie — love seeing you fucked up in front of me, taking my cock like the slut you are,” he groans, finally pulling out of you.

You immediately inhale deeply, your mouth and throat aching. Bucky’s big hand grasps your hair, pushing you closer to his cock.

“Take my fucking balls in your mouth, come on. Now you want that, want to suck my balls. Both, doll! Take them both or make you,” he groans when you lick over them before you try to get them both into your mouth.

Bucky’s balls are huge and you struggle to get them both into your mouth. But you also don’t want him to help you because you know he isn’t in a mood to play games or be soft.

“Fuck, that’s it. Yeah, suck them. And don’t you dare to come over the toy,” he says, looking at your grinding hips. He knows you’re close but he doesn’t want you to come just yet, you haven’t earned it and the night is long and Bucky has to punish you for being such a whore.

“Good girl, taking my balls in your slutty little mouth. Fuck, come, take them, fucking suck them whore. And then we are going into the bedroom, how does that sound? Yeah you like that, huh, whore? Like the thought of being tied up to the bed, letting me fuck you like the fucking slut you are,” he mumbles, already thinking about a few ways he is going to fuck you before you get his cock and before he even thinks about allowing you to come — because when you come only over his cock.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @bucky-barnes-lover @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @fanfictionreaderfan

#dark bucky smut #dark!bucky x reader #dark bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x you #dark bucky x you #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky x female yn #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader fanfiction

[cboffshore]

what you say about Jay's condition in the skybound fics is actually very true. 90% of the fandom portrays him as falling at the slightest degree of pain, bursting into tears and begging when in canon Jay NEVER cries or begs in all his torture with Nadakhan. All he does at most is complain silently, and continue talking shit about everyone

we actually need more fics of Jay being a little shit that fights dirty, cheats, and deals damage using the meanest ways to defend himself and attack even when he's getting his ass kicked. I just feel like a lot of fics don't really embody the fact that Jay didn't sit back and let them torture him while he cried, but he actually fought back, he actually continued to be stubborn to the point that nothing Nadakhan did worked.

You're so right and you should absolutely say it. I am not the biggest Jay enjoyer (don't get me wrong, I like him, but I'm not winning the Jay Fan contest any day soon), but I particularly enjoy his arc in Skybound and how that persistence plays into it. Seeing it get put to the side in favor of whatever all these crying sessions are trying to do honestly makes me wonder - do people who write this flavor of sadboy Jay actually enjoy/appreciate Skybound to the same degree that inspires so many of us to write about it, or are they just there for the angst openings? Which does Jay such a huge disservice. I'm still in awe whenever Jay gets that Target ball sized ball and chain slammed into his chest and still gets back up. This is the guy everyone's relegating to weep in a corner? He's throwing stray insults at every opening and then some and the popular fanon consensus is, "yeah, he's completely broken, send him to the pit"??

Now, don't get me wrong, the occasional show of vulnerability is great. Key word there is occasional. To be fair, I would likely be just as unsettled as I am by the sobfest trend if Jay just did Bugs Bunny shenanigans the entire time without ever cracking. It's about balance! Show that development off! Have him get tougher over time! A strategically placed breakdown or slip-of-the-tongue beg can work so well, it's just got to be handled carefully. (Tried it with Nya once in my own Skybound fics, and can confirm: watch where and when it happens and you can say a lot about whoever does it. Granted, I have never tried it with Jay, but same principle!) Sure, let him do it - but not for the sake of doing it. What would Jay think after the fact? How would the crew's reactions affect him? (Fun idea: would he weaponize it, like the back pain scene where he's literally grinning the whole time? Would he deliberately turn on the waterworks often enough that if it ever happens for real, nobody tries to take advantage of it?)

I didn't mean to go on for that long, but yeah! It's a frustrating topic, and I really wish I knew where it came from. Thanks for dropping in and letting me ramble!

#Lila speaks #Ninjago Skybound #you told me elsewhere who you are but for the ✨mystique✨ of it I'm going to preserve the anon thing and use my anon tag #but I'll change it if you want me to! #I've gotta start a tag for anon messages

[m1ckeyb3rry]

CHAPTER FOUR WAS SO GOOD UGHH literally the only fanfic I have ever loved so much and wait for updates like this. Am so excited for the next one!!!

On the topic of finally opening requests, I was wondering if I could ask for head-canons of what a relationship with Seishiro and a female reader would be like. If we want to be specific, maybe related to the fanfic? Like, how you would imagine their relationship would have been like back when they were still in high school, young and with Nagi’s past soccer career and all. Don’t feel pressured to write this, and good luck with everything!😽😽

── DATING NAGI!

Synopsis: Headcanons about having Seishiro Nagi as your boyfriend.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Nagi x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Content Warnings: none really, just generally fluffy and silly

A/N: AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON i hope you like where i go w the story in the future!! and hehe now that we’re in the past arc of peregrine you will actually get to see all of the nitty gritty details of their relationship in the fic itself so i won’t spoil it 🤫 but i love nagi ofc so i’ve added some general headcanons on what i think he would be like as a bf

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

no matter how the two of you get together, reo is somehow involved LMAOAOAO like bro is ALWAYS at the scene of the crime in some way shape or form just because i don’t think nagi would really pick up on the fact that he has a crush on you without outside intervention

it would also definitely be a jump scare when he confesses!! you would have zero idea it’s coming because he literally hasn’t changed how he acts towards you whatsoever

canonically he doesn’t really interact with a lot of people or have a lot of friends and he’s not aggressive with romance so i just don’t think he’d really know what the appropriate method of telling someone you like them is

would probably say some shit like “reo says i have a crush on you” and would be so nonchalant about it meanwhile you’re like “???” because you did not even realize he knew your name and also why is reo being brought up

i honestly think he would not be a bad boyfriend. yes he is lazy and unmotivated but he does what he needs to do and if something is important to him he generally puts in effort for it

that’s another reason why it would take him foreverrr to ask you out — he would have to like you enough that he realizes he does in fact want to have a relationship with you even if it is a hassle

he doesn’t have social media though so don’t expect there to be an official announcement that you guys are together or anything like that HAHA

he would probably forget to tell anyone that the two of you are dating and it’s not because he’s ashamed of you or is trying to hide you or anything he literally just does not care what other people think and would prefer not to talk them if possible so it never comes up

you’ll show up to an event with him and everyone’s like “omg nagi who is this” and he’s like “this is my girlfriend” and someone (probably otoya tbh) is like “since when have you had a girlfriend” and he’s like “it’s been two years 😐”

i think he would be fire at insulting people just because of how many video games he plays…that man has seen some of the worst sides of humanity

the world is lucky he’s a pacifist and avoids conflict because he has some vile stuff stored away (i will never be over him asking barou if he practiced kneeling because he’s about to make him his servant)

this particular quality makes him the BEST person to talk shit with

he’s not a gossipy boyfriend in the sense that he doesn’t have anything juicy of his own to contribute to the conversation but i’m pretty sure he mentioned he watches dramas at one point so you know he’s locked tf in if you need to complain abt someone

he will sit there and be so invested in the tea…def would not give any useful advice but he will make fun of anyone bothering you so you still end up feeling better

i don’t think he would get jealous honestly

the thought of you cheating on him doesn’t cross his mind at all because why would he date someone he didn’t trust fully???

i would say he expects the same from you because he would but at the same time he voluntarily talks to one (1) other person besides you and that’s reo so the opportunity for you to be jealous just wouldn’t even crop up

definitely super clingy and cuddly

loves being babied too

according to epnagi he has this whole automatic system in his apartment to clean and do laundry and i think he’d be fine if you appropriate that so no more cleaning!! but you will have to cook because that man literally only eats fruit jellies

genuinely how is he so built and not dying of malnutrition SKJFDSHKJ

he probably is terrible at coming up with date ideas so it’s up to you to plan things

again it’s not malicious i think for him just spending time with you is his ideal date!! like he doesn’t see the point in getting dressed up and going somewhere fancy when you could just eat at home and be comfortable together

but if it’s an important day or you tell him that you want him to suggest something for once, he WILL go all out (which means calling reo for advice and doing what he tells him to)

overall communication is key with him. he’s not particularly sensitive or in tune with other people’s emotions so being passive aggressive or expecting him to read your mind will honestly just end up making your mood worse because he will not pick up on the fact that something is wrong

but if you tell him what you want him to change he will happily do it!! he just needs to be told very clearly if you’re upset or need him to do something different

honestly it would be very refreshing. there are zero games with nagi and he doesn’t really try to hide anything — what you see is what you get 100% of the time

overall 10/10 would date idc haters dni he’s a sweetheart and he’s doing his best

#nagi x reader #nagi x y/n #nagi x you #nagi seishiro #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #headcanons #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

[deedeeznoots]

Can we please get some hcs of Sukuna and reader in the fairytale AU 🥹🥹

Absolutely amazing writing I loved every single thing of it!💖💖

Cottage Life

Characters: Ryomen Sukuna, Fem!Reader  

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Fluff, Mentions of Smut  

Content: MDNI, Established Relationship, True Form!Sukuna, Princess!Reader, Swearing, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Smut

A/N: Hi Anon! Thank you for the kind words and the request, I’d love to do this. I’m so glad that people enjoyed my Sukuna Fairy Tale AU so I’m 100% going to explore the idea more. On another note, this is also my first ever request🥹 I’m giggling and kicking my feet at the thought of people enjoying my writing enough to want to request specific things for me to create so I just want to take the time to say if you have an idea for me to write anything specific please do not hesitate to ask! Thank you all very very much. :)

Synopsis: Small glimpses into your daily life with Sukuna in the deep woods. While not fully necessary to understand these little snippets, reading the beginning of your story with Sukuna would certainly enhance the experience. <3 

ꨄ Pre-Relationship: Secret Meetings ꨄ

➼ When you first began meeting with him regularly he was pretty mean to you and ignored you most of the time when you tried to talk to him. Despite this, he always kept you by his side anyways and didn’t deter you from meeting him.

➼ One time you straight up asked him why and he said it was because you brought food to him. While you accepted that answer, you knew inside that wasn’t really the case because he would still keep you around even after you both ate. 

➼ After warming up to you one of the things that you two bonded over was the nature in the forest. Sukuna would explain the wildlife to you since you were unfamiliar for a long time and he was to your surprise, a really good teacher. 

➼ He was able to answer any questions you had and went over every detail that he knew about the woods and was able to keep things interesting.

➼ When you both spent that night under the stars he was serious when he tried flirting with you but quickly realized what he did so he tried to play it off as a joke (he couldn’t be caught being too soft, after all). 

➼ Since he’s so much stronger and bigger than you (and literally everyone lol) he makes sure to be extra cautious and gentle around you because despite what he seems like, he doesn’t want to genuinely scare people, especially you.

➼ Speaking of, he has no idea why you aren’t scared of him and doesn’t understand why you act like the way he looks is no big deal. He doesn’t complain though and never mentions it to you. 

➼ One of the reasons you’re not scared of him is because he has saved your life more times than you could count, and why would you be scared of someone who continually keeps you alive, most of the time at his own expense? 

➼ “No, don't eat those berries, they’re poisonous…wha-what do you mean you already had five?!”

➼ He had to do some poison control that day… and it wasn’t very fun. 

➼ Every time he saves your life he always tells you that he’ll just leave you next time but you know that’s not true at all.

➼ You would also always get injured for stupid reasons so he’d take care of your wounds like he did when you both first officially met (he’d laugh first though)

➼ One of the days you visited you realized you had a talent for making flower crowns so you would spend a lot of time with him doing it while you both talked and walked around the woods.

➼ You mostly gave yours to him as a gift 

➼ He would grumble and act like he hated it but he would keep them on anyway and he kept all of them. After a while it grew into a small collection that he secretly cherishes. 

➼ Sukuna secretly (though, it wasn’t a secret to you) loved these meetings, and your visits were the highlight of his day every time.

ꨄ Early Relationship: Locked Away ꨄ

➼ Sukuna was confused at first when you stopped visiting him after sleeping with him. 

➼ He thought he did something wrong and you didn’t have a good time, or that he hurt you in some way. 

➼ He tried to put on the tough guy act at first and tried to convince himself that he didn’t like you all that much anyways. 

➼ Obviously, it wasn’t true and he’s a big softy on the inside so he gave into his temptations to see you. 

➼ When he saw the guards by your bedroom window, he realized what happened, and remembered that you always had to sneak out to see him. 

➼ Once he realized what actually happened he chastised himself for being so pouty and feeling sorry for himself instead of going to see you sooner. 

➼ To make up for this he goes to look at you every day as you stand by your window.

➼ Eventually, you noticed him and you both would spend the whole day just sitting with each other from afar. 

➼ Sometimes he would see you cry when he visited and his heart would break because he couldn’t wipe your tears away. 

➼ He has resisted the urge to attempt to fight the guards by your window more than he can count.

➼ Only reason he didn’t was his fear of making things worse for you if he did.

➼ On the day of your wedding, he noticed that you weren’t by your window like usual. 

➼ He learned his lesson about giving up on you too soon, so he decided instead of leaving you be, that he would go around the castle and look for you to see if you were okay. 

➼ Too invested in finding you, he didn’t realize that he stood a tad too close to some of the guards of your castle, leading to him getting caught by them. 

➼ That turned out to be a happy accident however, as they led him directly to you and gave you both the chance to run away together. 

➼ He was secretly proud of you stabbing someone so easily, but he’ll never tell you that directly.

ꨄ Long-Term Relationship: Cottage Life ꨄ

➼ When you both first found the cottage in the woods, it was in very rough shape. 

➼ It was dirty, barely had a roof, and there were broken windows everywhere. It was obvious that no one had lived there for some time. 

➼ Well… one man’s trash is another one’s treasure, and you both worked day and night to fix the cottage after first finding it. 

➼ You weren’t used to any physical discomfort at all, so it took a while for you to get used to these types of conditions. However, Sukuna always made sure to help you feel better.

➼ For example, one time it rained and you two got super wet inside your home due to the roof not being 100% secure. 

➼ It was tough for you. Not only were the two of you wet, but the inside of the home you both spent tons of time fixing up was flooded now as well. 

➼ Thankfully, Sukuna always found a way to turn unfortunate situations upside down. 

➼ “Come on, let’s go play in the mud, you didn’t eat enough dirt as a kid”

➼ You both immediately felt better once you played in the rain together… especially when Sukuna would be ever the romantic and lift you up to kiss you as water droplets fell on both of you.

➼ After months of sweat and tears, the cottage was finally fixed and cleaned. 

➼ It quickly became the love of your life, second only to Sukuna, and you both quickly settled into your humble abode.  

➼ You would always wake up first which would give you a few moments where you could stare at Sukuna’s sleeping face

➼ This was your favorite thing to do every morning, because you loved his calm expression more than anything.

➼ Sometimes he catches you and as he opens his eyes he would sarcastically go “Don’t stare. It’s weird” and laugh at your blushing face. 

➼ When this happens you would just lightly hit his chest and jokingly tell him to fuck off. 

➼ You would always give him a nice long kiss first thing every morning though.

➼ Despite you no longer being a Princess, he always makes sure to pamper you like one anyways.

➼ For example, whenever you have a craving for something that can’t be found in the wild he would make sure to get it at any costs. 

➼ This includes traveling hours to the closest villages and sneaking in to take their stuff. 

➼ You always get mad at him for doing this because it could put him in serious danger, but he laughs and tells you it’s fine and that in all his time living near humans he was only caught once and it was because of you. 

➼ To this, you roll your eyes but you thank him anyways for caring so much about you that he’d work so hard to satisfy such a small craving. 

➼ Whenever you’re busy doing something, he makes it a point to catch you off guard and hug you from behind with his four arms. 

➼ You’re never actually caught off guard and can sense him from miles away (he has very loud footsteps), but you pretend anyway to get him to keep doing it. 

➼ Most days you both spend your time walking around and exploring the nature around you both. However, on particularly lazy days, you two spend most of the day just cuddling together.

➼ One thing that stays the same is that every night both of you look at the stars like the first night you two spent together. 

➼ Unlike that first night though, Sukuna would always make it a point to go down on you while outside. 

➼ Also unlike that first night, there was no pressure to rush home so you two would fall asleep outside under the stars.

➼ One time though, you woke up screaming when you found a giant bug crawling on you. Sukuna took the bug away but would always make fun of you for it whenever you both decided to sleep outside. 

➼ Sukuna would tell you he loved you in the most random of times: Walking around, eating dinner, anywhere really. He would just look you in the eyes and quietly say “I love you”.

➼ This is always paired with small kisses all over your face that make you giggle because of how ticklish they are. 

➼ Sometimes when you two are cuddling in bed he would randomly lick your back with his stomach mouth to make you jump. 

➼ “What the hell Ryomen!?” 

➼ “Hehe, sorry” 

➼ You both discovered your hidden talents while living together, and Sukuna realized his talent happened to be dress making. He realized this after he made a little makeshift dress out of your wedding attire when he carelessly ripped it away. 

➼ He was able to make you some pretty good dresses with the most random of cloth that he found around the woods. They weren’t the most formal, but they were certainly the best dresses you’ve ever had, being handmade by someone you loved.

➼ You once again tell him he doesn’t have to do all this but he makes you stuff anyway. 

➼ “Who said it was about you? This shit is fun as hell!” which made you laugh.

➼ He now has to pay extra mind to not completely rip your clothes off during bed because you two no longer had an infinite void of clothing choices. 

➼ In fact, he actually swung a little too far in the opposite direction…

➼ “Wait. Take it off carefully, I worked hard on this one. I SAID BE CAREFUL IDIOT–”

➼ Despite this, accidents still happen and sometimes he would rip them off in the heat of the moment anyways.

➼ Living together, you had to learn to do a lot of things related to maintaining a home like cleaning since you weren’t used to doing this stuff yourself.

➼ Sukuna told you that it’s fine and that he’d do it but you insisted that you should learn how to do things on your own now that you’re independent. 

➼ Being the good teacher that he is,  Sukuna would go on to teach you basic chores. 

➼ He would still tease you sometimes while teaching you though. Such as one time when you accidentally burned yourself by the fire trying to make dinner and he laughed when you kept flailing your hand everywhere. 

➼ He didn’t bully you for too long though, he was still worried of course. So, he made sure to heal the burns and help kiss them better. 

➼ You’re still able to make those flower crowns like before, so you guys would make flower crowns for each other all the time, and this time Sukuna didn’t hide how proud he was of them. 

➼ Everytime he gave you yours he’d give you a small kiss on the forehead before placing the crown on your head.

➼ You would try to do the same and would go on your tippy toes trying to reach him, but he’s hella tall so it doesn’t work. 

➼ “Jesus, you are 9 ft tall” 

➼ “Is that what they tell people? That’s not true at all” He would smile, crossing his arms as you attempted to jump up to place the crown on him. 

➼ “Well whatever you are I can’t fucking reach you”

➼ He eventually lifts you up by your hips and lets you place the crown on him and give him his little forehead kiss. 

➼ Whenever you two are together, he always has his hands on you (he has four of course, and he needs to put them to good use). Whether it’s placing your hand on his, or having an arm around your waist, one hand always had to be on you. 

➼ You both have every meal together, from breakfast to dinner. They’re mostly quiet and you both just take the time to bask in each other’s presence. 

➼ From this, you learned just how much Sukuna LOVES to eat.

➼ You noticed this already before of course, since your relationship started with you bringing him food, but you really notice it once you begin eating together 

➼ Sometimes when he’s eating his food too quickly you tell him to take it easy in order to not upset his stomach 

➼ In response, he’d point to his smiling stomach mouth and go “Does he look upset to you?” 

➼ You’d just laugh at this point lol and leave him be with one last comment about how he seriously shouldn’t eat so fast 

➼ He listens for a bit and takes smaller bites, but he goes right back into it after a few minutes.

➼ You weren’t great at cooking at first, but Sukuna didn’t really care and ate your food anyways

➼ “Don’t worry I eat anything, this is trash though” he’d say with food in his mouth, only half joking.

➼ Once you got better at the skill, he always insisted for you to cook or for the two of you to cook together since it tasted better when you did it (when you knew what you were doing, of course). 

➼ Speaking of together… At first, you two tried to take baths together at the nearby river.

➼ Emphasis on tried, because Sukuna always got too excited seeing your naked body and you two weren’t able to get clean at all. 

➼ Due to this, you decided it was best to bathe separately, to Sukuna’s dismay. 

➼ Occasionally you still allowed him to join you, of course. 

➼ Sukuna made love with you every time like it would be the last time. 

➼ In the back of his head, he always remembers the time you were taken away from him right after you both spent a night together.

➼ With this in mind, he always makes sure to make each session one you’d never forget, and he always delivered on this promise, of course. 

➼ He would always take care of you after of course, and always made sure you were okay. 

➼ You were fine, but you passed out 99% of the time so he would wipe you down and make sure to cuddle you. 

➼ He’s always worried about you being in danger again, but whenever he sees you asleep next to him he can’t help but think of anything but what he ever did to deserve you 

➼ Of course, from the moment you wake up to see his sleeping face, you can’t help but think the same thing about him.  

➼ Your life is a lot different now. Not only do you no longer have the title of Princess, but you’ve traded in your castle for a tiny cottage, and a crown for dirt-covered feet. Yet, you wouldn’t change it for the world… because for every painful burn and disgusting bug on you, is his smile, and that smile is worth more than any title.

-

A/N: Enjoyed seeing Fairy Tale!Sukuna? Just a reminder that if you haven’t read it yet, please feel free to read the story that these headcanons are based on!

#jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #sukuna smut #sukuna scenarios #sukuna ryomen smut #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #jjk sukuna ryomen #smut jjk #smut jujutsu kaisen #smut sukuna ryomen #ryomen #jjk ryomen #jujutsu sukuna #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #sukuna ryomen fluff #fluff sukuna #jujutsu kaisen fluff #sukuna headcanons #ryomen sukuna headcanons #sukuna headcanon

[cassandracain52]

You made me think about immunocompromised Tim so now you suffer the consequences (my thoughts) :D

Disclaimer: I haven't actually read that particular arc yet - I'll get around to it, I swear! But I do know roughly what happens.

With the whole spleentuation Tim turns the Red Robin costume into what basically amounts to a Hazmat suit. He doesn't actually change much - he goes for full face coverage and introduces some airtight seals. It makes upkeep slightly more laborious and makes him a lot scarier than he wants to be but it's this or risking getting benched for an infection for an unreasonably long time. Bruce returns and doesn't even question the look until he finds older Red Robin costume without the Hazmat qualities and in an attempt of casual bonding asks Tim why he changed it. You can imagine how the rest goes.

Second scenario:

Bruce vanishes before the pandemic, when he returns the family is very careful with like, disinfecting everything and they always have gloves and masks on their person. He writes it off as a side-effect on the pandemic until he realises how much more careful everyone is around Tim

Third scenario:

Tim uses his general lack of an immune system as a way to get out of things he doesn't want to do where there'll be a crowd. Mostly Gala's. Like:

Tim: I'm worried I'll get sick when I go to the opening of the Lexcorps factory we need to make An Appearance at.

Bruce: You went to ComicCon last week, you'll be fine.

Tim: 🥺

And like, what's Bruce going to do? Tim is right he SHOULD be a lot more careful. He SHOULDN'T go to the gala. So he folds like wet paper without fail every time. Tim cuts his public appearances down to an absolute minimum. Jason is seen more often and he's supposed to be dead.

Tims coup de resistance (is that the saying) is getting to attend a business meeting virtually because one of the three (3) people there was travelling two weeks ago

4.

Bruce: Tim you should go to sleep staying up this long is not good for your health your immune system will thank you.

Tim: what immune system.

Bruce: What do you mean what immune system.

Tim *chuckles*: I'm in danger.

Bruce: What do you mean what immune system.

5.

Damian sneezes once and refuses to take off his mask for six days straight on the off-chance he'll get Tim sick. He was literally digging through the dusty attic. He is not sick. Tim isn't even around half the time. You don't need to sleep in the mask Damian. DAMIAN.

”Jason is seen more often and he's supposed to be dead.” <<<asfghjkl XD this is taking me OUT😭 I never really thought of Tim using this as a “get out of jail free” card but he so would. But only for things he doesn’t want to do. That party of maybe 200 guests at most? Nope sorry can’t do it, too risky. That concert with 50,000+ people? Completely fine

All these scenarios were so fun!! I especially appreciated “What do you mean what immune system.” and Tim just immediately starts sweating bullets cause Oh Did He Forget To Mention That?

and Damian would so be super paranoid to accidentally get Tim sick but also would never admit that because Tim Must Never Know He Worries About Him

Damian wearing a full mask, gloves, and maintaining a ten ft distance at all times because Jon (who has seasonal allergies) sneezed kinda close to him: You’re a disgrace to this family Drake. Do us a favor and die

Tim not falling for this for a second: Uh-huh so can I just- [attempts to take approximately One Step Closer]

Damian rapidly scrambling back: nO I HATE YOU STAY AWAY-

Please feel free to share your thoughts again🤣

#these were so fun #thank you for your contribution #I love asks #ive only gotten two but they’re fun #batfam #tim drake #tims missing spleen #damian wayne #dc comics

[glorious-spoon]

9-1-1 Season 7 Post-Mortem

Mostly because I want to put my thoughts in order. Full disclosure: I'm really not thrilled with a lot of the choices this season made, but I'm also not at the 'fuck this show I hate it now' level either. The primary, overarching issue, IMO, is that they tried to stuff a full season's worth of plot into ten episodes, and the pacing and emotional continuity suffered badly. And also there were some writing choices that were simply deranged (and hopefully would have been reworked had they not been laying down the tracks in front of the speeding train, so to speak).

(Cut for me rambling at length)

So: Bobby and Athena were largely really solidly written. The cruise ship disaster was great: campy and OTT, but in a fun way. Their marital issues and the eventual resolution felt like a natural continuation of issues they've had in the past. Bobby Begins 3.0 was a great episode other than the cartel element, which was some ill-considered racial stereotyping (I've said it before and I'll say it again: you could have had the antagonists in that episode be a bunch of angry locals threatening people for tresspassing on their property, and the whole thing would have been 100% less gross without actually changing much of the plot. Really felt like Tim was cribbing from the similar Lone Star arc, which was also lazy and racist). Amir was a fantastic character, and while I could have done without that last scene of him offering Bobby absolution, I feel like he was generally allowed to be both gracious and rightfully angry. The cop Athena stuff in the finale was... less great, but also to be expected. I would have liked much less of that and much more time spent at Bobby's bedside.

(I'm really sad about the house fire mostly because that was one of my favorite sets, but I do appreciate the poetry of the parallel, with Bobby actually managing to get his wife out this time. Though I do wonder where Harry was that night, lmao.)

Hen was similarly wonderful. I really liked getting to see her wrestle with the responsibility of being captain, and the fallout of the car accident scene. In a vacuum, I actually like Ortiz as a villain - a complicated one, with sympathetic motivations, but still ostentatiously cruel. Were it not for the fact that there are basically NO latine characters other than Eddie who aren't villains this season, it would have been great. ALAS.

Did not love the rescue dog/foster child parallel with Mara. Otherwise really loved getting to see her settle in with the Wilsons, and I'm really glad that we got to see Chim and Maddie take her in instead of leaving her at the group home by the end of the season. Really leaned into the found family element, and Chim taking care of his best friend's child in the same way that Mrs. Lee did for him.

CHIM! Chim my beloved. 'There Goes The Groom' is the one episode that I have basically no issues with at all. The hallucinatory trip through Los Angeles, wrestling with Doug's ghost, was gorgeous. Bringing back Kevin - also gorgeous. I loved that we see the Lees explicitly framed as his real family (and am spitefully glad that his bio dad was nowhere to be found. Fuck that guy.) Kenny continues to be, IMO, the best actor on this show. He killed it. We need so many more Chim-centric episodes, because they're always SO good. He can make both humor and pathos feel so natural and human. Give us more Chim!

And of course on to Buck's bisexual arc, which was... so painfully Buck, lmao. Full disclosure: I have a lot of trouble rewatching 7x04 and 7x05 because the secondhand embarrassment is just too much for me, but objectively it feels very right and in character for him. LOVED the first kiss scene, with his dawning realization of what's about to happen and his softly stunned joy afterward. His coming out scenes with both Maddie and Eddie were lovely and perfectly appropriate to both relationships. I really liked him taking the initiative to reach out to Tommy to apologize and ask for a second chance after he fucked up their first date. Loved Tommy showing up at the hospital after what was clearly a long, miserable shift.

Their date in the finale didn't really land for me mostly because of where it was placed in the episode; if they did something with the two of them after Buck spent the entire day at Bobby's bedside waiting to see if he was going to live, it would have felt a lot more natural to me to have them exhaustedly eating takeout on the couch or something instead of having a formal sit-down date with wine and place settings. Intentionally or not, that made it feel like they're still on Date Behavior with each other and despite some gestures toward emotional vulnerability, they're not quite there yet - as seen by Buck steering the conversation back to flirting and innuendo. My overall feeling on the relationship at this point is that it's cute, but I'm not seeing any real depth of feeling between them yet.

Buck and Eddie on the other hand - look, despite my many MANY issues with Eddie's plot this season, I loved how his relationship with Buck was written. I love the intimacy and familiarity of how they are together, I loved the way Eddie let himself lean on Buck, I loved how Buck is clearly positioned as an integral part of the Diaz family.

Unfortunately, that's really the only thing I loved about Eddie's plot this season. His relationship with Marisol was ultimately pointless; she was never fleshed out enough to feel like a real character, and we never even see the fallout of Eddie's cheating with regard to her; it's all Chris. The Kim stuff strained credulity, and also I never felt like he got any kind of emotional catharsis or resolution through it; he still hasn't really confronted any of his issues about Shannon, about their marriage and how it ended. That whole arc felt really wobbly in terms of tone, as well: using plot elements of a very famous psychological thriller without actually acknowledging any of the creepiness of it. I would have liked it to lean into that more especially with the scene where Kim dresses up as Shannon, an objectively creepy and unhinged thing to do.

The Diaz parents handled the Chris thing in a selfish and opportunistic way that felt both disappointing and inevitable. Hopefully that's going to be a hook for the next season and Eddie actually confronting them, but overall Eddie's plot this season really felt like they just tossed a bunch of balls up in the air and mostly failed to catch them.

Gerrard - look, I'm not that worried about Gerrard. I could have done without him, but ultimately he's going to stick around just long enough to make his inevitable defeat satisfying. At least, that's my hope.

#911 #911 meta

[kel-lance]

JJK Mafia Au (JJK x Reader) PART 4

(quick chapter//moving plot)

Warnings:

- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Breeding, Ownership, Gaslighting, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more toxic sh.

Premise:

Reader lives in a city where the two biggest gangs keep things line until the third gang showed up. That had nothing to do with you though, until dumb luck just happened to favor you one day. Basically You’re picked up and used by every dangerous criminal within the clans due to some alliances they had to create due to some members messing up the previous alliances. ((Almost everyone’s gonna have a turn 🤗)) ( i have 12 chapters planned out right now meaning after i write those ill still be writing more.)

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AN: Sorry for the long update i'm trying not to get evicted bc i was fired a while ago bc of a protest (surprise surprise big companies don't like or care about palestine or other places like it.) but i had to give away my cats and am still struggling i have my socials in my masterpost if you could help if not its okay ily, I hope you like it

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After the three took a break from you, Sukuna pushed Yuuji towards you. Todo just follows along, trying to make sure Sukuna doesn't kill Yuuji as they just don't know what Sukuna could be thinking at times like these.

You lay a top the bed, sheets strayed, your hair messy, your whole body sweaty and broken, you entirely were weak, and Yuuji couldn't stop saying sorry to your fucked out face. "Let's see what you got."

You didn't feel anything for a few minutes until Todo broke the silence. "You've got to do something, brother, you know I'll back you up."

Yuuji just continued to stand there. If he were to fight Sukuna with Todo on his back, he wouldn't know who else would fight with them. Todo would lose everything he already has and would blindly die for him, which he would never ask for. But if he were to go through with fucking you again for Sukuna's enjoyment, Todo would also have to add himself into the situation. This double edged sword was going to stab him either way, but which would hurt you less?

"Don't take too long..." The leader made motion that he was going to start walking towards you two. "NO." Yuuji covered you on the bed, staring off back at his older brother. Todo comes behind Yuuji, putting a hand on his shoulder before giving him a look, and sighing understandingly as he stripped off his shirt.

Todo and Yuuji's was almost awfully awkward at first. They just felt bad, not being able to tell if you were even conscious anymore and continuing to do to you what they were doing.

Really they weren’t allowed to stop until Sukuna was satisfied. Until Yuuji was sobbing, begging him to give you and everyone else a rest. He was asking what would it take to stop this?

The older brother taunts, “Maybe we’ll keep her til she births one of our children, or multiple if she can create sufficient and strong offspring. I don’t know, Yuuji, should I start a farm because of you? I heard the Zenin clan is somewhat similar…”

“Please, please, Sukuna what do you want?” He was breathless. “This has to stop, you can’t-.”

He stops his younger brother, “I have, I did, and I can continue this for as long as you both live. I think that may be the conclusion I’ll come to, don’t you think it would be fun to be an uncle?” His big hands caress your stomach, feigning tenderness to his soon to be child or “sibling’s” child.

- You go back to your room where you stay in for a week.

- A random night, someone breaks in and tries to kidnap you and you didn’t know who it was, obviously you weren’t going with them without an explanation.

-That caused you to fight back as your dealing with everything so far, you were getting pissed being treated like a doll. The person who broke in gets captured, just before he says “Yuuji’s waiting outside, trust me.”

- Sukuna's family come in trying to make sense of the situation and the others had captured the mystery guy

- That's not before he throws you to two female ninjas. They secure you quickly and run back to their master Toji.

- their clan/gang is super powerful, the twins you can guess are Maki and Mai, and Sukuna (the new head of one of the three big families that control the large part of the area, the head of the Kamo gang) had just kidnapped their son, even if he did happen to barge in.

- Megumi’s been friends w Yuuji since they were kids but they never shared that.

- they met bc they were fighting bc yuuji was taught to fight ppl who give them looks (Sukuna wanted him to protect the family name no matter what, and megumi just had that face… and when they realized that they were part of the other side they had to come to extremes before realizing they were different from their families.

- they knocked each other out senseless and somehow one was still alive, megumi sat with yuuji while he regained consciousness and they started to talk more. Battered and bloodied but Yuuji finding the humor in it while Megumi thinks enough to like his character and realizes he’s just a big strong idiot.

- Maki and Mai are close, as sisters should be and they both have their loves (nobara and momo) and we all have to go team up with the gojo clan in order to make sure this trade off is safe and megumi and yuuji aren’t dead

- because now yuuji is with you at the toji clan too, it was supposed to be just you getting captured and then yuuji leaves to live his own life but now he’s in front of toji saying it was his fault that megumi’s now with his brother (sukuna)

- Yuuji explains that he and his son were friends since childhood, he says everything and everyone's on edge bc toji does what he wants, whenever, whatever, really anything for money.

- He says he knows he doesn’t have money, but the only thing he does have was something they both risked their lives for, so toji gets curious and wants to try you out.

- Toji fucks you senseless, making you think the train ran on you were more merciful. He was trying every hole, every position, just dressing you up and doing whatever he could with you, you were actually at your limit with him, enough to bring you back enough to start fighting again. You were getting sick of it, actually you think you were getting sick.

His inconsideration was on par with Sukuna's, though Sukuna cared more about his new objects while Toji wants them to know their place and to leave when he tells them to. He had to know why they would do all that for you//how did you survive so long in that clan he just has to see how durable you are and he’s LOVING IT.

- He asks you what you’ve been through and you don’t respond so he hits you again and again but you don’t cry so he does it AGAIN and you flinch enough to stop him, and start taking off his pants. His only response was "e’s like "Oh so they already trained you."

- You suck his dick and he pulls you up to kiss him, by your neck and places you on his dick and fucks you in the air, using gravity to its full advantage, that was the start of it all before the days of relentless attention and use, you were more sore than any of them have put you in. The hitting, cuts, just the amount of violence he's integrated into your sessions felt like training again, but worse.

- He’s wondering if he could keep you as his slut but remembered that it would be stupid to start a war when his kid couldn’t keep it in his pants. He blames Megumi for having a cold heart compared to his father's icy one.

- Toji makes up his mind to help and plans to betray/kill the sukuna clan when they get megumi back bc he doesn’t care but doesn’t say that.

-He plans a meeting with the other clan the top three have been fighting over the position of this location for years and now and ofc they’re all on edge.

- Gojo comes to the meeting with his clan, they’re not worried bc they know some of their clan can befriend some of the others involved. No ones been dead so they have some sort of unspoken treaty to leave each other alone but they never asked much from the other ever.

- Gojo settles down with his group, smug and tired bc everyone needs them to fix other peoples' problems for them. The community relied on the Gojo Clan to protect them when they also work with the Kamo and Zenin gangs, the people outside are just as gullible. He sits down and asks what could big ol Toji need from him,

- “It’s Megumi”

- Gojo drops his smile. Their other unspoken alliance was when Megumi was beaten up at a really young age bc of his status and itadori happened to be there too (same elementary school). Gojo beats the fuck out of the people who targeted the kids/second to heir the clans, and left, but Megumi finds him and asks why would he help them.

- Gojo said he can’t have his competition get angry, his people are at stake. (referencing to the shifting power in-between the gangs that they didn't know about yet, and that his person was leaving his clan to join the other, he didn't know why he was doing anything anymore at that point but he couldn't let more powerless powerful children get hated on.) Megumi says thank you and takes Itadori back near his gang before disappearing back to his clan.

- Gojo actually has been in contact with his friend who's joined the other clan. That's how he knows what's usually going on with them to keep them rangled up and behaving as much as they could to not cause trouble or cause attention to groups like theirs.

Gojo and Geto were very young when they met, and since their lives were everything but normal, they were given the chance to take in more young bodies to add to their clan. They raised them together, but geto left.

Gojo begged for days for him to reconsider, they day he left he was inconsolable, especially since he took the twins too. Geto couldn't separate the girls, but he could separate himself from Gojo, in his head it's to help Gojo in the future because of the power he'll have.

Gojo didn't care about that, he didn't want help he just wanted Geto. That was all he needed, he had decided. He could have ruled the world and done it confidently if he had Geto by his side, but things don't go through when you're young, and now you're about to catch as many years he hadn't been able to get out.

- He's not nice at all when you're under his care. With Geto leaving at a critical age in learning, his feelings had been all over the place. He was completely disordered, his goals and morals and everything went awry, with the years he couldn't get himself out of the timestamp of when he knew happiness.

- So he asks you about Geto, his best friend, the only one that could make him feel real again. The one person who didn't do things for him because of his name and status, and yet left with the excuse of protecting Gojo from future evil. It was enough to drive the strongest insane.

- He asks you everything by torture, not too physical that anyone can see. WHen trading you back you should at least look and act like you're in the same condition, if not better than what you were when they traded you off. Just anything that Toji didn't already give you, Gojo would have mindless enjoyment from digging his fingers into the fatter parts of your belly, legs, and forearms.

- He’s only doing this to see Geto again. He just wants to pass the time until he can finally feel good again. He's strong, he's smart, he's beautiful, when would life be good to him instead of him making everyone else's lives better just by being there. It made him coky, it made him secretly weak willed to his own desires, so his processing was different than most.

- He asks u what he looked like and everything about him while fucking you. it was the closest he’s got rn. "I don't know's" made him reel back more, his strikes becoming almost boneshaking and shattering. He was making Toji seem gentle. Now that something he cares about is just a memory away, he just couldn't stop himself.

-You were so close to him, even if you never spoke to him, even if you never saw him in the maybe month you were staying at the Pink haired clan. But his aura seemed to have darkened when you mentioned twins. There were just so many either of you could have known but it just seemed to rile him up more. Seriously you would need a doctor and healing time after this. You couldn't let that happen again.

-There was nothing else to take from it, it was a hell you would only wish for the person already committing it. It made you miss the tenderness of Sukuna and the warmth of Toji, it didn't matter what they did or how you got there, anything sounded better than Gojo being without his favorite things. And you were barely part of it.

#jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #dark jjk #tw #tw dark content #jujutsu gojo #taaotjjk #sukuna smut #sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #yuuji itadori #jujutsu megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #gojo x geto #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut

[gffa]

Dearest gffa, you are the only person I know whose been reading Batfamily comics. (Though I do read some of the fanfic haha). The destiel meme informed me that Bad Things just happened in the latest comics. Is there a primer to the latest drama? (Everyone seems upset). Are you ok?

Best wishes, your fandom neighbor on Star Wars Street

I assume this is about the Batman #148 leaks? I haven't seen a ton of drama (other than a couple of posts, including the Destiel meme notification that got me to go see what was happening) but if that's it, it's kind of funny, because okay. As far as I've seen (the issue isn't even out yet, so I can't read it until tomorrow, I'm only going on the leaked panels I've seen) what happens in the issue is that Failsafe-- okay, let me back up. In the current Batman run (written by Chip Zdarsky), awhile back Bruce created a super powerful robot that was meant to be activated in the case of him going rogue so that it could take him down, and it's very coldly logical, based on his patterns, so it knows him extremely well and is hard to beat. It's powerful enough that it apparently took out the Justice League awhile back (I haven't read that arc yet, so take that with a grain of salt), which means now that Failsafe has gone rogue in the current Batman series that Zdarsky's writing, Bruce is having a hell of a time fighting it, especially with his "backup personality" Zur-En-Arrh (Bruce is a paranoid shit and I love him the most) is also running amok in his head and he's fighting back against that. Back up further--in late 2023, there was an event called "Gotham War" that was basically, "Bruce has been through a lot of shit lately, so he was out of commission for several months, in that time Selina stepped up in Gotham and started training crooks to be cat burglars instead of rogues' goons, Bruce woke up, thought this was bullshit, despite that crime was down, and they basically had a turf war while Bruce was losing his goddamned mind because of what he'd been through and because Zur-En-Arrh was literally ratting the bars of the cage of his mind, and part of the fallout being that Bruce dosed Jason with a gas that basically made his adrenaline go wild any time he would do anything dangerous, so that he could no longer be in this life of crime or vigilantism, because Jason had killed a lot of people, but Bruce couldn't bear to send him to jail, so this was the only way he could live with taking Jason out of the life they lived". Gotham War was extremely controversial--I had fun with it, because it was BONKERS and I fuckin' love bonkers stuff in the "punching people in the face solves crime" genre, but a lot of people were really angry about how Jason was treated in the arc. Zdarsky co-wrote Gotham War, so this is a continuation of a lot of people's frustration and anger towards how Jason has been treated by DC especially by this author.

There's also a lot of lingering frustration and resentment in fandom because Jason is not always written well or frequently. He doesn't have his own solo book these days, half of what's written about him is written by authors with VASTLY different takes from the other half of the writers out there, and there's a lot of fanon that goes around with Jason's sub-section of fandom where I think it furthers the divide because the fic that's written about Jason delves deep into his character in specific ways that the canon doesn't match and I think it can set expectations for some fans that are just not matched by DC themselves, either because they see Jason differently or because Jason just doesn't have a lot of fans at the company itself, I couldn't say for sure. So, now comes Batman #148 leaks (it's not actually out until tomorrow), where Failsafe kills Jason and Bruce has a dramatic reaction to it, and a lot of people are furious that DC would kill Jason at all, much less with such little fanfare, after how little focus he's gotten over the last several years. The thing is, though, that Jason doesn't stay dead, he's alive again by the end of the issue (I've seen panels from later in the issue) and I'm not sure how many people are reacting just to seeing the posts flying around fandom versus how many people have actually seen the whole context. Because context is slowly rolling out, but people generally aren't soothed by that, given the lead-up to this moment. Basically, years of Jason not getting much focus in the comics + the events of Gotham War have led to a powderkeg of a situation and the contextless leaks (ie, without the panel where Jason's alive again) took a match to the whole thing. And that's what's going on, as far as I know! I personally am having a great time because I was extremely skeptical that they would actually kill Jason without any fanfare and also I like Jason as a hot mess with crunchy relationships with people and that he's done bad things and had bad things done to him/been a victim as well, so all this messy drama in the story has me living for it. (This would have been a very different situation if I'd thought Jason was really dead, but I didn't, so I'm doing fine right now. Also, my Blorbo is Dick Grayson, so I've already been through this wringer and I'm still mad at DiDio for it, so it's Jason-Blorbo's time now.)

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #not tagging this because i know better