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seiwas · 10 months

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₊˚⊹｡ tell me about love (show me how) | gojo satoru

wc: 7.4k

summary: you teach gojo how to love.

contains: f!reader in mind but no pronouns mentioned, descriptions of blood (typical jjk canon type stuff), shibuya onwards manga spoilers, implied minor character death, there are swears, suggestive bit at the end (but it’s funny!), lots of internal thoughts/dialogues, kind of canon divergent

a/n: relates to my short blurb, do you believe in love?, explores a lot on how i think gojo would be when it comes to love; ambiguous but linear timeline (jumps through scenes)

collection masterlist: conversations on love 01. do you believe in love? <- you are here -> 2.5. and my body keeps saying (it's yours)

When Gojo has love for the taking, he makes no move to reach for it.

It’s unusual for him to be so restrained, being born into greed and predetermined purpose—a one-man clan fated to hold power close to God. There exists a hunger within him, insatiable and stubborn, unstoppable until he gets what he wants. It’s all he’s ever known: to take and devour, simply because he can.

Yet with this, he doesn’t. He can’t seem to.

“I think I’ll always want to be with you, Satoru.”

When you offer your heart to Gojo, he looks at you softly.

You catch his eyes and see the sky, bright, with flecks of light floating on his irises like cotton clouds in its periphery. It’s different from the piercing blue you’re used to—a terrifying riptide that washes you away.

It wasn’t intended as a confession, but Gojo always takes whatever you have to say. He commits it to memory each time; how could he not? Words that come from you flow so naturally, so earnestly that the air around you shifts all on its own.

His lips part slightly, red spatterings lining pink inner corners before they close again. He doesn’t say anything, but you know Gojo and the fingerprints of his soul—the way he bites his lips to withhold himself from speaking.

It’s dangerous, he thinks, how you make wanting something so complicated seem so simple.

He takes a small breath, then you feel it, pressed against you—the faint signature of his cursed energy overlaying his entirety. It tickles your skin a little, the effects of it brushing. You don’t remember the last time he put it up around you.

A million things run through Gojo’s mind for every split second he breathes, but at this point in time, he counts a million and one—one thought that if he touches you by infinity instead of his hands, he can have this good thing for now, that this is the only way how.

You’d think this a rejection, if any, but he doesn’t move away from you, and the blush blooming at the tips of his ears says more than he ever could.

The subtle intimacy you share with Gojo grows sporadically, from knuckles brushing to pinkies touching. He stands next to you more often, a few inches closer than he used to and sometimes, still, with an infinity connecting you.

When you hold Gojo’s hand for the first time, he jolts very slightly, as if you’ve shocked him. He’s started to put his infinity down around you again, and you continue the limbo of whatever it is you both are—except this time, he’s made it clearer, just a little bit.

During the last few leaves of fall, Gojo skips to an ice cream stand like a pre-schooler on early dismissal. You trail behind him slowly, shaking your head affectionately; he’s the only adult you know that still acts like he’s 5.

“You’re like a horse.” you jest, stopping next to him in line.

“You’re a snail.” he huffs, side-eyeing you, like a child.

You gasp exaggeratingly, hitting his arm. He fake-winces, but that’s all it is; Gojo’s the strongest and you don’t know of any human touch that has managed to hurt him, except—

Yeah. Your eyes trail to the side of his neck, hidden in the shadows of his jawline; there’s really nothing, but sometimes you blink and see crimson, oozing, gushing, leaking—you shake away the thought.

When he receives his ice cream cone stacked with vanilla-strawberry-vanilla and rainbow sprinkles on top, the smile on his face parallels the sun. He looks cozy, almost boyish, beaming against the autumn breeze blowing on his thick gray hoodie.

You wonder if he feels just as warm.

(Maybe that’s why you do it, then).

Once Gojo turns to give you the cone, you reach for his other hand tentatively, shyly—your fingertips grazing his palm lightly. You want to give him an out if he can’t take this, but he doesn’t move. He twitches a little, as if he’s been caught off guard, but that’s it.

His eyes widen briefly, just a bit, before turning into the same soft skies frequenting them lately.

“Sorry, is this okay?” you whisper, peering up at him.

He stares at you for a while, his hand in yours unmoving. You leave a sliver of space between your palms–your own version of his infinity–just in case. And he takes it all in: how tiny your hand is wrapped around his, how gently you speak—how warm he feels now amidst this autumn breeze.

“The strawberry’s really good,” he finally replies, pressing the dessert closer to you, “try it.”

You give him one last look before you indulge in his request. Gojo’s always been good at that: pushing and pulling—pushing you away with non-answers only to pull you back in with something else.

But he doesn’t let go of your hand, so you keep yours there, palms nearly touching. (You make a point not to mention how the parts that do touch become clammy for the rest of the afternoon).

You start to think that your relationship with Gojo is going somewhere, then he disappears (‘gets sealed’ might be the more proper term).

His absence is deafening. You’ve all lost so much, and it hurts, but you carry on knowing full well that this is what being a jujutsu sorcerer means. There aren’t many left to fight his fight, so you do what you can to. You stay with Shoko, mostly, if not going back and forth with Utahime. You can’t afford to be crying when the students, the kids—you can’t even bear to think about what they’re going through.

Nights are the hardest, when the world is quiet but your mind is loud, throwing far too many questions you can’t find the answers to.

What will Gojo come back to? Then the scarier thought: Will he even come back?

You don’t want to doubt him, ever, but your mind continues to play back that day, like a final memory. The unintentional confession; his eyes like the sky.

You don’t want it to be the last important thing you tell him.

“I should start looking into retirement plans, like Nanamin.” you raise an eyebrow, questioning. Gojo’s never spoken this far into the future before, most especially his.

“Work is shit now for you too?” you scoff, leaning back on the wooden ledge.

Gojo rolls his eyes, skipping the coverage of his blindfold today.

“Well, after I remove the old geezers and change everything, there won’t be much left to do.”

You hum in response. He does make a point.

“Also, Megumi won’t need me anymore,” he pouts, whining, “who else will want me around?”

You try to hold back your laugh, wanting so badly to tell him that Megumi doesn’t even really like him around to begin with—but you figure breaking Gojo’s heart isn’t really something you want to do if you value your peace.

“I don’t know,” you reply, shifting your weight, “I think I’ll always want to be with you, Satoru.”

Even now, especially now. You wish you were with him, too.

The day you hear of Gojo’s potential return, you drop your breakfast outside the 7-Eleven near Jujutsu Tech. You’re supposed to meet up with Utahime for a weekly check-in but your feet take you to Shoko, and the footsteps in your heart have never echoed louder.

This is the first good news in a while—especially after finding out about the state of Megumi and what happened to Tsumiki, your sweet girl Tsumiki.

When Gojo comes back, it’s like he never left. He pops out of the box joking the same way, talking the same way. He proves himself to be the strongest all the same, and when he wins—there are scars, but he wins and that fact stays the same.

So, when you reach for his hand now and he moves away, you’re stuck wondering what’s changed.

You let it stay that way for a while, your understanding extending to Gojo the way it always has—you don’t push, and he gives you what he can. It honestly isn’t all that bad, because at least he’s still talking to you like he used to.

Jujutsu society is still shaken from its core. You and all who have survived bear the task of building everything from the ground up; it’s exhausting, especially since most of you are still mourning.

Megumi’s been put in an induced coma; you understand why but it still tugs at your heart when Shoko tells you it might take a while. Everyone else has been assigned to sweep through the rest of Japan to ensure that any remaining curses are taken care of.

You see Yuuji and Yuuta visit Megumi sometimes, along with Maki and Toge when they’re free. Gojo’s there pretty often too, using healing sessions with Shoko as an excuse to see the boy he’s practically raised at 17, with you.

But while Gojo’s smiles to everyone else remain as charming as ever, you can always tell when they’re untrue.

“Are you okay?”

You find Gojo a little after midnight on the rooftop of the faculty building. The city always looks pretty from up here—a sea of lights reflected up on the sky. It’s a running joke that rooftops are Gojo’s ‘thing’, but you know he really only comes to places like this to think. You wonder what’s on his mind now, coming here every single night since being unsealed.

Despite how quiet you try to be, sneaking up on Gojo is almost impossible; he senses you before he hears you, sees the familiar traces of your cursed energy through his Six Eyes.

“Can’t sleep thinking about me?” he teases, looking straight ahead.

The steps you take towards him are careful, afraid of running him off like you seem to be lately. You sit beside him, leaving a space larger than you usually do, then shrug, “These days, yeah.”

It’s times like this when Gojo forgets how honest you can be, how he takes your word for everything, completely.

It’s threatening, he thinks, how you can say so much with so little.

“Well, maybe I can suggest—”

“Seriously, Satoru,” you grip the ledge tightly, knuckles turning white, “please.”

You tend to let Gojo dodge your questions a lot of the time, his elusiveness a hallmark of who he is. So you never sound like you do now, serious, pleading.

Gojo fiddles with his fingers, pondering. He hums lowly before speaking, “Does it matter?”

It hurts you a little, how that’s even a question. He should know better than to ask that to you.

“It matters to me, Satoru,” you sigh, “you know it does.”

You barely catch the way his brows furrow at your response, but there are creases on his blindfold that can’t be created by anything else. And Gojo knows—is so painfully aware of the way you care.

Since coming back, he’s never felt like he’s fully returned. It’s an odd existence of in-between, like he breathes everything and nothing all at the same time. The emotions are even worse, overloading his senses with feelings he can never pinpoint.

How does he tell you that he must be fucked in the head? That every second in his mind is another step closer to insanity? That he’s lost your tether on Satoru in pursuit of Gojo—of being a god?

“I’ll tell you,” he starts, “but you have to look away.”

You’ve always treated Gojo tenderly, patiently, and he knows, without a doubt, that no matter what he says you will continue to do the same. But he can’t allow that, not anymore. Not after the way you looked at him that day.

“Okay,” you mutter, turning your head the other way.

He breathes out and you can almost picture it: half-bitten lips and eyes like low tide.

“I’m fine,” he says to the back of your head, “you have nothing to worry about.”

A breeze picks up and brushes past your neck. It’s a lie. He knows it, knows you know it too, but—

it’s easier this way, he thinks, to give you answers when you’re not looking.

Gojo’s never found a weakness he can’t work around, but he might have just found one with you—in your eyes, that read through his every lie. If you turn around now, he’ll want to tell you everything.

“Satoru,” you whisper, letting his name fill the air. You get it—him, and even when you don’t, you try damn hard to because you refuse to let Gojo carry all of it on his own.

There are crescent indents on your palm from squeezing your knuckles too hard. You think, is this how you form shallow cuts on your heart?

“It’s just me,” you continue, facing him when you say it.

He takes you all in—your eyes that hold the city lights, your lips, the only vessel that handles his name so delicately. It’s that look on your face again and Gojo’s hit with an ache in his chest—the overwhelming truth that whatever it is, he feels the same.

There’s a secret Gojo keeps, one he’s certain he’ll never tell you: that when he looks at you upon his return and finds an emotion he refuses to name, he’s never felt so afraid.

He takes in the shadows under your eyes and the sunkenness of your cheeks—the number of blinks it takes you to reign in tears on the brink of leaking. The way your voice shakes when you say his name.

Shoko tells him about it because she knows you never will—about how you’ve been running yourself dry, speeding through colonies to gather intel for any possible way to break the seal. She tells him about the sleepless nights, how she catches you standing outside his office at 3 a.m. before travelling to Utahime the next morning.

And he cannot comprehend it at first, cannot understand how he’s caused you to crumble this way.

If this is all because of him, how you’ve broken yourself all for his sake, he can’t allow it. To see you ruin yourself over him, over anyone ever—you deserve better.

So, when Gojo has love for the taking, he makes no move to reach for it; he cannot possibly take any more from you if this is what is left of you when he does.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you catch him by the door of the conference room.

Rebuilding an entire society requires work and apparently a lot of meetings. Gojo doesn’t usually go to most of them, leaving you and Utahime to carry the chunk of his attendance when he’s not there. In the rare times that he does show up, he makes it a point to be the last one in and the first one out. Utahime hates him for it but you don’t blame him—he isn’t exactly amicable with other figures of authority.

He pauses when he steps out of the door, hands in pockets as he turns to face you.

You’re not mad or anything, just stating the fact. He’s always known you to speak this way. You lean against the wall next to you, keeping your arms crossed. More people continue to file out of the conference room, some eyeing the two of you curiously as they pass by.

Gojo glances at them, suddenly self-conscious as he clears his throat, “Right, I’ve been avoiding the paperwork you left in my office,” he emphasizes, practically announcing it to everyone in the vicinity, “let’s finish it now.”

You don’t know whether it’s irritating that Gojo’s so terribly bad at acting, or comforting that he still can’t, for the life of him, successfully lie in front of you.

He motions for you to follow him as he strolls down the hallway, but you intentionally lag a few steps behind, careful not to encroach on his space lest it make him avoid you any more than he already is.

Stepping into Gojo’s office after so long feels weird, like you belong here but only to a memory of it—as if closing the door behind you feels like activating a muscle you haven’t for a while. It’s been months after all.

Your eyes skim over the entire room, zeroing in on the stacks of paper lined up on his desk; paperwork has always been Gojo’s least favorite part of the job, often leaving you to do them with him (or alone, when you’re feeling generous). Not much has changed in his space; the mini living area still exists to the left of the room, with little bits of you in its interiors—the pillows, the coffee table books.

Gojo plops down on the sofa chair and props his feet up on the ottoman, giving four scrolls to his phone before pocketing it. He has the audacity to casually offer you the seat across from him, as if nothing’s wrong—as if he hasn’t been avoiding you for god’s sake.

Ever since the rooftop, he’s canceled lunch with you six times for reasons that you’re now realizing are less likely to be true. He’s kept a distance of at least one person in between you at all times, and to this day, you still don’t understand why.

You sigh, taking a seat and leaning back to cross your legs.

“You’re so bad at acting.” you start.

Being with Gojo for so long, you’ve come to realize that there’s no point being angry with him when your heart can never take it.

“I technically wasn’t lying.” he replies, sticking his index finger up.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you snicker, nodding to his desk.

It’s always like this with Gojo: he pulls you in and you follow. No matter the distance between you, when you sit down together like this, it still always flows so easily. The banter you’ve built together over a decade and more shines through no matter what state your relationship is in.

Neither of you say anything until Gojo replaces his blindfold for his sunglasses, placing the piece of cloth on the coffee table.

You break the silence.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” you ask quietly. Gojo aches at that, how you still choose to regard him so kindly.

Why has he been avoiding you? It’s a good question, completely valid with how he’s been treating you lately, but he could draw up every answer he has, all one million and one, and still not know what to say.

Gojo’s a pretty bad communicator; for how much he talks, he doesn’t really say much—and maybe that’s the root of all this. There are too many things he wants to say but can’t formulate in the right way.

“If it’s something I did, can you at least let me know?” you continue. Gojo frowns, how can you be wronged yet still think of yourself as the one to blame?

“Why do you do that?” he tuts, head tilting sideways as his hands dig deeper into his pockets.

“Do what?” you furrow your brows, confused.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t worry about it.” he says dismissively.

You arch an eyebrow; he has it all mistaken.

“Satoru, I’m not worried because I feel guilty,” you sit up, inching towards the edge of your seat, “I’m worried because you’re pushing me away.” your voice is level, but your pupils shake.

Something grips at his chest seeing you this way; together or apart, he seems to be the main contributor to your heartache.

You wonder if confronting him like this is any good if he’s not going to say anything anyway.

“If you want space, that’s okay, I get it, but,” you exhale, “at least just tell me why.”

This entire time avoiding you, Gojo’s had you on his mind—the million and one. He’s come to terms with what he feels when you’re together, and how it amplifies when you’re not.

It’s shitty of him to practically ghost you, not just in text but in real life too. But he’s thought about it logically, really, that removing himself from your life should be just like ripping off a bandaid—painful but quick. At least that way, you’d get over it fast.

He’d been resigned to doing that and that was the plan—until now.

All it takes is seeing that look in your eyes, and his resolve falls apart.

“I can’t.” he speaks softly.

What hurts the most is that beneath his sunglasses, his eyes still hold the sky.

You think you want to cry.

You take this as your answer and close your eyes, taking a deep breath before getting up to leave. If this is goodbye, you don’t want your last interaction to be an awkward memory of him watching you bawl in his office chair.

You push yourself up with the armrest only to sit back down—because Gojo is right in front of you, blocking your way. His infinity is up but touching, a tingling sensation sweeping across your knees.

“Wait,” he swallows, a franticness you’ve never seen before. His head stays down as he bites his lips, sunglasses hanging by his fingertips. You wonder what he wants to say, that even if it comes out messy, it’s okay. You want to tell him that it’s just you—that you’ll always want to hear it all anyway.

What comes next is unlike any version of Satoru you have ever known—nervous and uncertain, almost like he’s afraid. He lowers himself, slowly coming down to his knees in front of you. A giant of a man so small in your presence.

“I don’t know how.” he mutters, dropping his sunglasses to the floor.

You blink once, twice, still surprised by what’s in front of you. Gojo has always towered above you, has always known how to do anything and everything so effortlessly without fail.

Watching him now, with every inhale and exhale dragging in slow motion, you do your best not to startle him.

“How to what?” you whisper, the moment so fragile.

He looks up, eyes locking with yours. A reaction happens in that moment—the split second of all his thoughts collapsing into one. You see a clear sky, blue and bright as day, the Satoru he saves for you—while he sees you, with that look on your face, the one that he knows has always only meant love.

The sincerity in your gaze overwhelms him—makes him look away before it becomes too much. Red blooms at the tips of his ears as he bites the inner corners of his lips, fingers grabbing at the fabric of his pants. You’re afraid he might run away again, but he doesn’t and stays right where you are.

“You know…” he looks to the side, pouting, “whatever you do….”

“Like…?” you coax lightly, trying hard to hide the small smile forming on your lips.

You wonder how many versions of Satoru you’ll meet in your lifetime, and if this one, shy and nervous, will be one you’ll fit into the crevices of your heart just like all the others.

He grips his pants tighter, fabric bunching under his fingers, “When you hold my hand… those things. You get it.”

And you do (get it), so you don’t push, taking whatever Gojo has to give you like you always have.

The tension relieves from you slowly, comforted by the fact that at least he’s given you his reasons now (no matter how vague they still seem to be). That at least there are no non-answers this time.

You tell yourself that it’s okay, that you’re content as long as Gojo’s in your life even without the possibility of becoming something more.

“Ok—”

But there’s always one thing you forget about Gojo—

“So show me how.”

—in the moments you least expect it, he speaks the words that matter most.

You choose to show him slowly, gently, like the trickling introduction of water to a man who is first learning how to drink.

In the first few weeks of you and Gojo readjusting to one another, he turns on his infinity again—but only when he gets close enough to touch you. Lunches together happen more often, dinners sometimes too. Then he puts his infinity down, indefinitely.

For the most part, your relationship falls into the usual steps of your dynamic with Gojo; there’s no pressure for anything and he likes that, appreciates the time you’re giving him to learn things at his own pace.

It grows organically that way: knuckles brushing as you both reach for the stapler, pinkies touching whenever you walk side-by-side during site visits—until you’re able to hold his hand fully again, leaving that little infinity between your palms for him to close (hopefully, one day).

The faculty room is cold, especially during winter. The heating system is never warm enough to keep your hands from shaking whenever you mix your morning coffee.

“So loud so early,” Gojo saunters into the kitchen, hands in pockets as he approaches the pantry.

You stop mixing, ceasing the clinking of the spoon against your mug. “How are you not freezing?”

He shrugs, grabbing his box of (heavily sugared) cereal. “I guess I’m just hot.” he says, turning to wiggle his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes and set your coffee on the table, Gojo following with a bowl brimming with cereal and milk.

Mornings usually consist of you and Gojo, with an occasional new hire who has an early class that day. Most of the time, it’s just you two though, with Shoko coming in much closer to lunch time already.

“Want some?” he asks, holding out his spoon.

It’s routine—Gojo asks and you decline, choosing to save yourself from the cavities that he somehow manages to evade despite having a diet of 80% sugar.

Today though, you’re feeling a little adventurous.

You nod, opening your mouth. Gojo’s eyes widen, nearly dropping the spoon at your request. You see the flush of his cheeks and smile, corners of your mouth extending wider. The spoon is shoved to your mouth too quickly, almost like he’s embarrassed to feed you.

“Too sweet,” you scrunch your face, swallowing down the copious amount of sugar you’ll feel for days.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Gojo throughout this whole relationship trial period, he recovers from any state within a nanosecond. There’s no end to how shameless he can be.

“Like me, right?” he winks.

“Sure,” you drawl sarcastically and Gojo smiles like it’s high praise.

You sip your coffee slowly, revelling in the heat that flows down your throat.

“Can I have half of that?” you point to his bowl. Gojo looks at you, confused, but slides it over anyway.

What happens next is an abomination to Gojo’s eyes—pure absolute disgust: you pour half of his cereal into your coffee and mix, sipping and crunching on a few pieces every now and then.

His face contorts into complete distaste, horror and revulsion in the way his mouth hangs open.

“What are you doing? That’s gross!” he nearly yells, reaching over to bring your mug down. His hand covers yours for a moment, the contact still causing gallops in his heartbeat.

You laugh, giggling as he processes what you’d wasted his cereal on. It honestly doesn’t taste that bad, you think.

“You’re weird,” he says to you, the grin on his face uncontained. This morning, he feels fond, like the butterflies in his stomach are warm, tickling him from the inside. “Give me.” he motions to your mug.

You hold it up for him to take a sip but he keeps his hand over yours when he tastes, sticking his tongue out once the bitterness of your coffee hits. You set the mug down, preparing to reach for your spoon, but he takes your hand in his, long fingers slotting right between yours, interlacing.

Gojo doesn’t normally reach for your hand, much less interlace them together (a recent evolution to your hand-holding), but this feels nice, how your fingers fit right in the spaces of his.

You turn to him, a shy smile on your face. The tips of his ears are blush red but he looks at you the same, “Your hands were cold,” he pouts, “is this– is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s warm. Thank you, Satoru.” you nod, beaming. And it’s not a competition but he hopes you see the light in his eyes, how it feels to be ignited within him only when he’s spending breakfasts like this with you.

Shoko asks what you are and you don’t know what to tell her other than you’re happy and it’s good. Gojo’s existence is loud and vibrant, easy to spot from miles away—but he cares for you discreetly, in the hand that gently rests on your lower back while crossing the street, and the seemingly unlimited supply of your favorite coffee when you have no recollection of restocking it ever.

He gives you a new mug for Christmas, one with little cereals painted all over while you give him his own tube of hand cream that he claims always smells like you.

During the faculty New Year celebration, you overhear one of the new hires make a move on Gojo. You aren’t bothered by it or anything, simply walking past to sip your sake by the couch. You can hear them talk a bit from the kitchen, but you try not to pry despite how curious you are about his response.

Until—

“I’m taken,” you hear Gojo say bluntly.

Everything rings in your ears after that. The countdown music is loud, but your heart beats louder; there are murmurs and footsteps around you, but only one man crouches down to check on you, glass of water in hand.

You snap out of it and see blue, the sky—a familiar light; you don’t think you can control the smile on your face, the alcohol lowering your inhibitions to paint on something lovesick.

And when he smiles back, pink lips stretching wide—oh your heart can’t take it. He places one hand on your knee, rubbing gently. You hear it faintly, how he asks if you’re okay, but all you can do is nod, words failing to express how you feel right now.

The countdown starts. 3 — and you take his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks to an image of him on your phone from many, many years ago. 2 — you go closer and his eyes go wide, a mixture of panic and surprise, but soft at the same time. 1 — you lean in and his eyelids fall shut, his chest on rampage. Then it lands, there, on the tip of his nose: a delicate peck and the smell of sake mixed with mint (like the lip balm you always carry around in your pocket).

When you pull away from him, you’re smiling the biggest he’s ever seen, and he can’t feel it from how numb his cheeks have become, but he’s doing the same.

That kiss to his nose serves as the catalyst to the months that follow: Gojo becomes more comfortable touching you now, and though he blushes every single time, there’s nothing to be ashamed of because you do too. Shoko can’t believe the slow burn this is taking you both, having watched this on the sides since you were both 22, but you think you like it—like the slow drizzle of honey on Gojo’s favorite breakfast waffles.

“How is it?” you ask, watching as Gojo takes a big bite.

“D Beft.” he replies, mouth full as he chews. You take the seat beside him and take a spoonful.

“There’s a secret ingredient.” you say mischievously, wiggling your eyebrows.

He swallows before he scoffs, “What?” cutting up another piece, “Love?”

You’re surprised because he says it so casually, and Gojo’s never talked about love, has never even mentioned the word since this shift in your relationship. He realizes a beat late by the expression on your face and gets flustered, thinking immediately of ways to brush past it.

You had meant to say that you used that infused sugar he buys whenever he goes to Kyoto, but… you suppose love works too. He should know by now, right?

“If it is?” you whisper, pretending to stir your coffee.

Gojo doesn’t know how to approach this, really, but he’s come too far to back out now. He clears his throat, mentally running through what he wants to say, then, “Good. ‘Cause that’s what I put in your coffee too.”

You laugh and the tension dissipates; there are hearts in your eyes for how hard Gojo has tried after denying himself of this for so long.

He stares at you—at the laugh lines by your eyes and the soft curves of your lips, the moment moving much too slow, stop motion in his mind. He’s drawn in until you’re all too close, a few centimeters from your noses touching.

Your laughter dies and your cheeks feel like they’re on fire; he’s so close you think he might kiss you. The signs are there—his eyes scaling your face to focus on your lips, his tongue peeping ever so slightly to wet his lips.

So you wait.

But he doesn’t, because he moves away after wiping his thumb on the side of your mouth. Even though you know there was nothing there.

Gojo continues to eat, blabbering about a site visit he’s assigned to next week, but you don’t miss the way his ears are fully red and how he’s biting his lips to death.

The tension this time is different; instead of a growing rift, you can’t seem to be close enough. Every time you part ways, he lets go of your hand more reluctantly—as if he wants to say more, do more, but stops himself while he still can.

When he leaves for missions, you kiss his cheek, pull him in by the hand and linger there, shyly. He gets embarrassingly red but tries to cover it up by telling you not to miss him too much (even though you know you will, and he knows he’ll miss you more).

Your near-kisses with Gojo happen more frequently, and it comes to a point where he even manages to land one on your forehead, while you fall asleep next to him on his office couch.

It’s driving you crazy, this tension—the mixed signals of it all. You try to kiss him a few times on the lips, but he evades them each time. You’ve caught Gojo staring at your lips more times than you can count; if that isn’t a sign, you don’t know what is.

Now that Gojo thinks about it, he’s come so far yet the prospect of kissing you properly still scares him. What if he fucks up? Doesn’t do it right? What if it’s not how he wants you to be kissed?

There’s that secret Gojo will never tell you, of how seeing that look on you has never gotten him more afraid. And he’s worked through that now, but it’s evolved into something else: how Gojo is now afraid of love, more than anything else, not because of loss but because he might not know how.

And kissing you, loving you this way—he’s never done it before, doesn’t know how to make you feel love without his lips shaking and heart palpitating; how to do it while letting you know he feels the same.

It happens during an assignment out of town. Curses aren’t as bad as they used to be, but they’re still stronger than what any of the available sorcerers right now can handle.

You don’t remember the last time you saw Gojo use his technique that way—almost forgotten how powerful and ruthless he can be. Every time since, holding your hand, keeping you close—he’s just been your Satoru.

Your apartment for the weekend is a two-bedroom unit with one bathroom and a decently sized living area and kitchenette; Gojo always chooses the room in front of the bathroom because he tends to wake up in the middle of the night to pee (information you know from your many other assignments with him before). Still, going as what you are now—it feels different.

There’s a charged air between you as you move around the unit; you make your nightly tea while Gojo looks through the groceries for some crackers. It’s peaceful and quiet—domestic almost, but there are goosebumps on your skin for reasons you can’t explain. Being around Gojo lately has felt that way.

He brushes past you to throw the finished packet of crackers and the feeling intensifies; it’s not awkward, just tense, like anticipation sitting deep in your bellies, waiting on each other to make the first move.

He announces that he’ll use the bathroom first, if you don’t mind, and you motion for him to go ahead. Your mind is fuzzy and having Gojo around seems to only make it worse.

When you walk past the bathroom and straight to your room, you hear Gojo humming that soft pop tune from a popular girl group on the radio earlier. You giggle, thinking it’s sweet—how he sings obnoxiously around everyone else but is admittedly pretty good when it’s just him, alone.

You still have the rest of the weekend in this area, having agreed to monitor the site and any nearby locations for other suspicious activity, but at least the worst of it is over (maybe just to you though; Gojo hates paperwork).

The sound of running water stops and you hear the bathroom door swing open. You don’t see Gojo when you exit your room but he leaves the door open to release any remaining steam.

There’s a reason why people say showers are good for the mind. You’re happy for those who’ve found it, but that couldn’t be you, because the only thought plaguing your head right now is Gojo—and whether you should greet him goodnight, if you should kiss his cheek or hug him tight. The tension between you now is palpable, an electric current waiting to zap on both ends.

Your mind is so out of it that you don't realize you’re missing your skincare bag until after you finish brushing your teeth and dressing for bed. You open the bathroom door with the sole intention of going back to your room to get it, but instead, you’re met with a wall of chest.

Gojo’s eyes are wide, bright blue with damp strands of white falling like curtains barely shielding the sky. He’s just as surprised as you are, toothbrush in his hand as you hold up the towel wrapped around your head.

You’ve seen Gojo in his pajamas many times before—white long sleeves with gray cotton pants, but your eyes trail to his collarbones and the way the bathroom lights cast it under a soft glow. The redness on his cheeks, a visual manifestation of the heat on yours.

Gojo can’t stop staring at your lips, at how soft they look—at how soft you look fresh out of the shower. The little baby hairs sticking out under your towel are cute, and he leans in without knowing—a pull he can’t seem to resist. For once in his life, Gojo’s mind is still.

You try to meet him halfway, tiptoeing, but you’re a little out of your element; you don’t know where to put your hands and your heart’s about to explode out of your chest. When your noses touch, you can’t breathe, closing your eyes while you wait for it.

But it doesn’t come.

You feel Gojo’s breath stilling before speeding up into little exhales. Something is wrong. You open your eyes and find him staring back at you, a version of Gojo you haven’t seen in a while—that you rarely see ever, except that day during your confrontation in his office.

Concern laces your features and you move back a little, hands coming up to caress his cheeks. His eyes still look frantic, but they focus on you when you cup his face so gently.

“Satoru,” you whisper, voice grounding. His breaths slow down a little.

You realize that it must be true then, what they say, that those who love to be feared, fear to be loved, because you’ve never seen anyone afraid of something so good as Gojo is of this.

“Satoru,” you repeat, massaging his temples with your thumb, “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Gojo hates it, how you’ve always had to adjust for him. He hates that he can’t give you this one thing, hates that you’re still so patient, that he’s still so afraid. He swallows, closing his eyes tight before opening them again.

“I want to,” he chokes out, “I just don’t know—”

You chuckle, without judgment, “I don’t either,” you lean forward, foreheads touching, “but do you want to try together?”

You learn that Gojo sees himself so differently from how you do—and maybe that’s everyone, but Gojo tends to say things while doing the other. He says he can’t bother with kids, but continues to take so many of them under his wing anyway; he calls your cereal concoction disgusting but tastes it regardless; and he says he can’t think about love, doesn’t know how, but proceeds to try so much harder, everyday.

When you look at Gojo, you see a heart so big, so capable, that he can’t see it himself.

You nudge his nose with yours and he breathes deeply, closing his eyes once again. If he doesn’t do this now, how much longer ‘till he does?

Gojo hums before nodding his head slightly. His hands come up to cover yours, toothbrush wedged in the spaces between his fingers; they’re clammy, he’s sure, but he’s kept you waiting long enough.

When you kiss Gojo for the first time, everything trembles—his pupils, his lips, the breath he takes. It’s all shaky and nervous, but your lips touch and all you know is that you like it there. He’s a little bit stiff but you don’t mind, pressing closer just for a little bit before pulling away.

Gojo keeps your hands in place, half-lidded eyes staring at you lazily. His ears are fully red now but he’s giving you a look you’ve never seen before—like lightning crackling in the gaps between his eyelids.

When you kiss Gojo for the first time, you don’t expect it to be by the bathroom door of a rented apartment, while away on a mission. You don’t expect it to be in your pajamas, towel wrapped around your hair as you’re getting ready for bed. You definitely don’t expect him to guide your hands down his neck while he places his on your lower back, squeezing lightly before pulling you in to kiss you again.

This time, his lips move more pliantly, parting yours slightly; he tastes mint, mixed with the strawberry candy he had earlier and it’s nothing he could have ever imagined before, but is now everything he’s ever wanted. The push and pull between you is magnetic, soft lips and the intermingling of held breaths. All Gojo can think of now is to take, to devour—to keep you with him, like this, always.

You wonder if Gojo is lying—that he’s never done this before, because you don’t think you can kiss anyone after this and not think of his lips on yours.

By the time you part, the air is significantly warmer. Your fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck and you smile, sighing. Gojo looks warm, with his swollen lips and flushed cheeks.

“That…” you trail off, nudging his nose.

Gojo looks at you fondly; to ever even think he could have this now, with you—he doesn’t believe in any higher being but you must be his prayer come true.

“We can practice a bit more, I think.” he pulls you closer, hands gripping your hips.

You feel it against you, something solid and firm against your stomach and your eyes go wide at the realization; Gojo does the same.

“Satoru, you–” he moves back and freezes, untangling himself from you completely. There’s a faint outline on the crotch of his pants and your whole face goes red.

“Let me use the bathroom real quick.” he panics, rushing past you and closing the bathroom door.

You stand there stunned for a good minute before you shake out of it, laughing. Gojo yells about how you’re being so mean, making fun of him when he’s like this, but you aren’t—not really.

It’s been a long time getting to this point with Gojo, but considering all things, you think, this might just be the beginning.

thank you notes: i would also like to shoutout @stellamancer for leaving such lovely comments on dybil that it actually kinda pushed me to write this longer piece connected to it!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #satoru #shotorus.writes #oh my god i cant believe i finished this !!!!!!!#its a big one ... jhbfhsdbfja woops #shoutout to niku for being so supportive !!!#col

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homestylehughes · 1 month

Text

kiss it better

pairing(s): jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack's injury takes a toll on his and y/n's relationship, when tensions come to rise. emotions get the best of them and, feelings are hurt and tears fall. but that's nothing a little kissing or more can fix.

warnings: smut 18+ (idk what happened..), lots of angst, emotional reader and jack. cussing, fluff, cuteness, use of pet names and y/n.

wc: 3k

authors note: hi my little loves!! i'm back with another jack fic... no surprise! BUT this is my second back to back upload. look at me. i wrote all of this in one day, BOOM. anyways! this one was a little emotional to write, i'm trying my hand at writing angst, i love angst. i wasn't going to write smut but HEY IT JUST HAPPENED LOL. so hopefully you guys enjoy!! reblog and like if you enjoy <3 as always much love!!

happy reading <3

The devils had a rough year, everyone knew it, with their season ending in a heartbreaking way.

Jack had an even tougher year, his season being filled with 2 injuries that led his season to end early, so he could undergo shoulder surgery. We all knew this was coming, it was only just a matter of time.

This time it hit Jack harder than the times before, he felt like he let his team, fans, and family down.

Resting and recovering wasn't something Jack liked to do, he’s always been a go go go person, always doing something, always on the ice.

Jim and Ellen went with him to Colorado for his surgery, I stayed back and waited for his arrival back to Jersey. When he arrived back from Colorado from his surgery on Saturday, everything was fine. The first few days had been pretty easy for Jack, sleeping for most of the time. Only getting up to eat, shower, with my help and take his meds.

He had been home for a week before tensions in our home started to rise.

I woke up to a loud noise coming from the kitchen I think, rubbing my eyes quickly. As I lifted up out of bed, I turned to Jack's side of the bed, to see that he's not there.

Quickly slipping on my slippers I make my way down stairs, to see Jack in the kitchen trying to fix himself a bowl of cereal. As I make my way further into the kitchen I see that the milk is spilled all over the counter on the floor, with the bowl also on the floor broken into pieces.

I hear Jack mumbling words under his breath that I can't quite make out, but I'm assuming none of them were things I wanted to hear.

Jack spots me before I even open my mouth to speak. “Shit i'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to wake you up,” he says, looking at me.

“ I just wanted to make myself breakfast, but I can't even do that.” His head hung low as speaks. I could hear the sadness in his voice.

“Jack it's okay, I promise” I say, making my way towards him. “Let me clean this up, and then I'll make you something, okay?”

“NO!” Jack says loudly, the raise of his voice catching me off guard. “No, I can clean up my own mess. I made it.”

Taking a deep breath, trying to choose my words carefully, I can already feel the tension in the room rising.

“At least let me help,” I said quietly, not wanting to upset him. “I don't need your help y/n.” Jack says aggressively, “you've been helping and taking care of me all week.” he says as he turns to grab a towel to clean up the spilled milk.

I stood there in shock, Jack had never talked to me like that before. Anger and sadness ripe through my body. My head is telling me to fight back, but my heart is telling me not too.

Im hot on his heels, following behind him, “jack.'' I called out his name, his back turned to me, as he began to clean up the mess. I get no response, “Jack'' I say again but a little bit louder this time, which still doesn't get a reaction from him.

My head is beginning to win, now wanting to fight back. I go to grab the towel out of his hands, throwing it in the sink behind me. Grabbing his hip, to turn him towards me so I can look at him.

His eyes are locked on the ground, not looking at me. “Jack.” I try again for the third time. “Talk to me, what's going on?” softly saying to him, bringing my hand to his chin to lift his face up, to look at me.

Jack is quick to rip his face from my hand, “i don't want to talk” he says looking straight at me now. Tears of anger, sadness, frustration swimming around in his eyes. “I'm going to clean up my mess, and you’re not going to help, leave it alone.” he says sternly at me.

My eyes are beginning to fill with tears of my own, not wanting to cry in front of him, not wanting to speak and argue with him to make the situation worse. I nod at him and make my way out of the kitchen, tears falling on my face as soon as I do.

I just wanted to help him, be there for him, he needs someone right now even if he won't say it. I know this is hard on him, mentally and physically, but that doesn't make his actions okay.

All of these thoughts are running through my head as I make my way to our shared bedroom. Making my way to the closet, deciding to start getting ready for the day, there's no way I'll be able to sleep after this.

Tears are still falling on my face, I want to go back down there and say something, help him, talk to him, give him a hug. Do anything that I can for him, but I know he doesnt want that right now, he made that very clear. The situation is already tense enough.

While getting ready for the day, I decided to give Jack space today. It seems to be what he wants from me right now. The tears have stopped falling for now, but my thoughts and feelings haven't stopped wandering.

I hear Jack enter our room, as I finish up my makeup, my body instantly tenising up, taking a deep breath I make my way out the bathroom. Grabbing my jacket, my back turned to him, there's so many things I want to say to him but I keep them to myself.

I can feel Jack making his way closer to me, his front facing my back, his hand sliding on my waist.

“Baby” he quietly says, the sound of his voice making me nervous. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face him, my eyes beginning to water again. Our eyes locked, I can tell he's been crying. I want to reach out to him, but i don't, scared of his reaction.

Jack's hand is still on my waist, pulling me slightly closer to him. I'm the first to speak, I can't handle the silence anymore. “I'm going to run a few errands, I'll be back in a few hours. Text me if I need anything "I say softly, looking at the ground.

“I want to talk” Jack speaks again, I internally scoff at him, so now you want to talk.

“I don't want to talk to you right now jack.” I say, making my way towards the bedroom door. Jack followed behind me, “that's a little childish don't you think? walking away, when i'm trying to talk to you” he says a little louder this time.

Anger is flowing through my veins, hot angry sad tears are now falling down my cheeks. “You don't get to speak to me like that.'' I say a wip my body around to face him. “You don't get to decide when we talk, or when I want to talk to you! '' I say with a voice full of venom. “You didn't want to talk 45 minutes ago, when I tried to talk to you. So yes jack, I am walking away. I have things to do. I don't want to be around someone who treats me like shit when I’m trying to be there for them”

My voice is losing its battle of being strong, my emotions are winning, as my voice begins to trail off. I'm not stopping there, quick to cut off jack as he opens his mouth.

“Actually, we are going to talk now.” I say, throwing my jacket on the ground. “I am trying my best to be the best I can for you right now. As much as you won't admit it, you need me right now, you're so stubborn that you won't let me. Let me be there for you, let me help you, we are in this together, stop acting like you are doing this alone.”

“I know this is hard on you in so many ways, I'll never know what you're going through, but let me be there, talk to me. This isn't easy on me either, seeing the person you love the most in pain and you can't help them.” I'm beginning to sob at this point, trying my best to get everything out that I want to say. I'm not sure if I'll have the strength to do it again.

Taking a few steps, to stand in front of Jack, grabbing his face in my hands, tears also streaming on his face. He leans into my touch this time, instead of pulling away.

“I love you so much, don't push me away, please.'' I say staring in his eyes, looking for a response. Instead of words, Jack pushes his lips to mine, the kiss surprising me, knocking me off my feet almost. My hands never leave his cheeks, our mouths moving in sync, in a passionate kiss.

Jack pulled away first, lips swollen, our chests both rising. “I'm so sorry” Jack begins “ I'm so grateful for your help and love during all of this” “this” he gestures to his shoulder which is sitting strapped up in a brace. “This is dragging me down. I hate it. I can't do anything for myself, i feel so bad when i ask for help im scared that I'm annoying you.” he says, “you'll never annoy me, Jack.'' I say while running my finger under his eyes, wiping away the tears.

“Thank you for being here for me. I do need you, I'll always need you.” he finishes, before I have the chance to speak, jack is reconnecting our lips.

Walking us back towards the bed, where he sits on the edge, his free arm urging me to sit on his lap. I pull away quickly, “ Jack, I can't. I don't want to hurt you”

“You wont hurt me baby, what's hurting me is you not being on my lap, kissing me. Now get up here” he says with a smirk, pulling my body down to rest on top of his.

Once I'm settled safely on his lap, Jack immdentially pulls my face down, to reconnect our lips together.

Our makeout session is picking up, our hips grinding together, lips moving frantically together, jacks tongue slipping into my mouth, clashing with mine.

We haven't been this close in awhile, I've missed his body, his lips on mine. With another roll of my hips, Jack pulls his lips back groaning, throwing his head back.

Giving me the perfect access to his brace free shoulder, kissing and sucking on exposed skin of his neck. His grip on my waist tightening as our bodies move together.

“Baby, I need more. Please.” Jack whines out to me, “I need to see you, I want to feel you, please, please”

I pull back from his neck, his eyes filled with desperation. “Are you sure? I don't think we should, your shoulder, I don't want to hurt you jack.” I can see his heartache when I say those words to him.

“Baby, I'm okay. I need you so badly, fuck” he says breathlessly as he beings to move our hips together again. I moan, as Jack connects our lips again, his hand sliding under my shirt, urging me to pull it off. In a quick motion I pull it above my head, leaving me in my bra.

“Off. off. I want it off baby '' Jack says pulling at the straps of my bra. I reach behind me to unclip it, throwing it somewhere behind me.

Jack is quick to grasp one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking and lightly biting it, the sensation causing me to moan out from above him. “Fuck Jack, yes fuck.” our hips moving at a quicker space, the dampness between my legs growing by the second, I can feel Jacks bulge swell benenth me.

“Jack.” I moan out as he sucks and licks both of my breasts. “Jack i need more fuck, but i dont want to hurt you.'' I whimper. “I know baby I can feel it” he says in between the kisses his trailing up my neck. An idea pops into my head as his lips are about to meet mine again, I pull away. “move and sit up against the headboard.” I say to him, Jack's eyes widen in surprise.

I get off of him, and he quickly makes his way to the top of the bed, his back resting against the headboard.

I began to unzip my jeans, pulling them down my legs along with my underwear, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I began to crawl to Jack on the bed. I reached him, grabbing the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down his legs, leaving him bare.

I take in his state, eyes swimming with lust and love, pupils blown, chest falling, lips swollen. He looks beautiful, brace and all.

Wasting no more time, I sit myself back down on his lap, his cock resting warm and hard against my inner thigh. “Hi” I said to him, “Is that what you wanted? Want me to kiss everything better?” I say, grabbing the base of his cock, lifting up so I can align myself with him.

Without warning I sink down on Jack's cock, the both of us groaning at the same time. I'll never get used to the way Jack feels inside me, the burn between my thighs feels dealicious, I want more. I need more.

“Fuck baby.” Jack whines out, his free hand grabbing my waist harshly. “I need you to move please.” “like this?” I say as I raise up slightly and slide back down on his cock.

“Yes, like that baby, fuck. More. More.” Jack says as he's looking up at me, so desperate and needy.

I decide I'll stop tourchoring the both of us, as I lift off of him completely and sink down again. The action causing me to throw my head back in pleasure. “Fuck jack you feel so good” i say as I begin to ride at him at a slow pace.

“Faster, fuck” jack groans from below me, getting tired of the pace he begins to thrust his hips to mine.

“Right there jack please”. The angle of this thrusts hits my clit perfectly, causing shock waves to crash through my body. I can feel myself beginning to get tired, needing something to grab on too.

Grabbing the headboard behind Jack, I lift myself off of him, and sink back down, putting all of my weight into the headboard, to create more leverage.

The new movement causes my whole body to shutter. glancing below me, Jack's head is leaning back against the headboard, eyes closed, mouth open moaning below me.

As if he can feel me looking at him, he opens his eyes, pushes himself off the head board and takes my left nipple into his mouth, his eyes remain on mine.

I began to speed up my movements, causing the whole bed to move below us.

“Fuck right there baby.” Jack moans out to me, his hand moving from my waist to the back of my neck pulling it down to connect our lips.

Moans spilling out between the both of us, I can feel the coil starting to build in my stomach, as our hips meet.

“Jack fuck” i moan out i a throw my head back, now resting my hands on his hips.

“I can feel you clintching around fuck baby.” “im almost there fuck” slamming myself harder down on his cock.

Jack trailing his hand down the front of my body, stopping where we’re connected, his fingers finding my clit instantly, pinching and rubbing it between his fingers.

“Oh my god, fuck” I drop my head to jacks neck, still working myself against him.

“Don't stop, don't stop.” I yell out to him, I can feel my legs beginning to shake

“Baby I'm about to cum.” Jack lifts his hand from my clit, forcely grabbing the back of my head, smashing our lips together, teeth and tongues clashing.

One last snap of our hips, and I'm cumming. My head dropping to Jack's shoulder, incoherent things are falling from both our lips as we chase our highs together.

After a few seconds I gained enough strength to pull myself up. I can feel Jack's hand rubbing up and down my back.

I sit back enough to fully look at him. Our chests falling quickly, trying to catch our breaths. “That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.'' Jack says to me, his hand moving to push hair out of my face. “Did so good for me baby” I smile at him, before I'm quickly pulled back into reality when I remember his shoulder.

“Jack. your shoulder” i say frantically, “are you hurt? I knew we should have done this. Oh god "I say as I'm trying to push myself off of him quickly.

“Hey hey, baby I'm fine.” Jack says as he grabs a hold of my face, his eyes locked with mine. “Hell, I'm more than fine. I'm great, all because of you” he smiles fully at me.

My nerves settle a little, as I look over at him to make sure he's actually okay. Jack laughs at my concern as his face follows my movements. “Baby i promise i'm okay” he chuckles out to me again.

“Okay sorry, for caring about you.” I sigh dramatically out to him. “Hey now, none of that” he says, pulling my face closer to his again.

“Come kiss me better.” he whispers out before connecting our lips.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #new jersey devils #jack hughes #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes smut

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lowkeyerror · 8 months

Text

Spend My Time On Us

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Absolute filth, Strap on, rough sex, begging to cum, etc.

Summary: Natasha considers giving up her life as an Avenger to focus on your relationship. You think she's joking, but she's dead serious

Masterlist

One of the most beautiful things about you in Natasha's eyes was how patient you were. Even when you felt needy you were never in a rush. She’d be gone for weeks at a time maybe even months but you never complained about her job. On one side of things, you didn’t have to right to complain as you were just a hookup. On the other side the first time Natasha had you she’d sworn off anyone else. The spy had you all to herself so she seldom felt like she had enough time to enjoy you.

Natasha was the impatient one. There were times when she was on mission where the only thing on her mind was you. She’d close her eyes and feel your hands climbing up her legs. Her core warmed at the thought. A whole scenery would unfold in her mind, you in between her legs with her head thrown back in ecstasy. The ever so innocent look on your face when you peered through your eyelashes.

She was always flustered when she made it back from a mission. She often sought you out to end that frustration. However it never unfolded in the way she expected. The rough sex that she had often day dreamed about, would instead turn into something hot, slow, and sensual. Natasha could not get enough of the way your hips bucked into hers, with the strap secured around you. The way that you fucked her, screamed that you loved her.

Perhaps you did, but you were patient enough to wait for Natasha to realize your feelings.

“ I can’t do this anymore,” Natasha mumbled against your neck.

You slowly pulled back from her,” What do you mean, Nat?”

“ I mean,” her hand trails up your bare stomach, “ I can't go back to work.”

The red head slowly drops to her knees. Her hands rest on your waistband. Your face is hot with anticipation.

“ You have to.”

One look from her kills the argument you tried to create. She tugs your pants down, “ No, I don't. I can give it all up. Every part of it. The only thing I can't quit is you. Y/n, you don't know what you do to me."

Natasha dips her head to taste you but your hand rest on her chin tilting it up to meet your gaze, “Tell me… what I do to you.”

From her position Natasha edges you towards the bed. You fall slightly with your back hitting the mattress. She takes that time to climb up you so that she’s hovering over you. The spy grinds herself down on your abdomen and you can feel her dampness on your stomach.

“ You make me want to give all this shit up and spend my time on us.”

The scrunch of your eyebrows posses a question that your lips can’t contain, “ Us?”

Natasha’s eyes meet yours, “ I need more of you, Y/n. I crave it. I can’t stand being away from you.”

Her head dips down and she peppers hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Your breathing staggers slightly, “ You crave me or the way I fuck you?”

The dark haired woman chuckles into your ear, “ Both.”

Your hands find the dips of her hips and you squeeze lightly. Your touch feels like ice on her hot skin, she shivers. “ Natty, baby, I don't need the seductive spy to tell me she craves me. I need the woman that lets me make love to her every time she tries to fuck me to tell me. The woman that comes in hot and let's me calm her enough to take her slow. I need the woman who wants me to hold her after she cums all over my cock to tell me that she wants me for more than just my body.”

You can feel Natasha pulsing on your body. The words you say make the woman shake with want and pleasure. “ Y/n, please.”

A smirk takes over your features, “ You want to give it all up for me?”

Your hands slowly slide from her hips to rest on her ass.

She bites her lip,” Mhm"

You sit up abruptly, keeping the woman close to you. Your lips are centimeters apart, “ You need me to fuck you Natasha?”

She tries to grind down you like she did before, but your grip on her tightens and she stops with a whimper,” Hard and fast, please.”

Natasha had practically been begging you for that from the start, yet you never gave it to her that way. You thought she could get sex like that from anyone so you did something different. However now with her whining in your lap, you know that she only wants you. It’s only fair to see if she can handle what she’s been asking for.

You slam your lips against her. The pace was startling to the red head, but she quickly adjusted. One of your hands was firmly gripping the base of her neck keeping her in place as your tongue worked against hers. Natasha could feel herself running out of breath, but she didn’t dare break the kiss.

Instead she let her hands climb up your abdomen until they each had a full hand of your breast. She squeezes with just enough for to make an airy gasp escape from your lips. She takes that as her opening, she tugs at your sports bra. You break the kiss to pull it over your head. Her shirt comes off just as easy.

This time it’s her back hitting the mattress as you suck your way down her body. Your teeth occasionally graze her skin, which only works to elevate her breathing. Natasha tried to prop herself over to see as you came face to face with her wet cunt. You pushed her back down and spread her legs far apart.

For a second you just licked your lips at the sight. You reveled in the way woman shifted uncomfortably ever few seconds. Before she could protest you were pulling her panties to the side, burying your face into her pussy.

Your usual slow pace was abandoned as your tongue traveled through her folds. You ate her as though you had been starved for days. Your mouth latched around her cunt sucking as if it would cure dehydration. The sounds she was making only spurred you on. Her thighs were slowly encroaching around your head. You gave one of her thighs a harsh smack before forcing her open again.

You assume Natasha enjoys this as her thighs again try to squeeze your head. It takes everything in you, but you remove your mouth from her pussy. Her juices coat your chin. The look you give her is dark, there’s a small debate going on in your head.

“Turn over.”

Natasha wants to question you, but she thinks better of it. Instead, just like the tease she is, she turns around slowly sticking her ass in the air. Her face was pushed into the bed, and she was giving you a perfect view of the meal you had been eating.

Purely for effect you push her legs farther apart. Once again you stare her building up anticipation. Natasha doesn’t know what’s going to happen next. All that she knew was that she was aching for you to do anything.

“You don’t listen Natty. I think I made it pretty clear that I wanted those legs open. Yet your thighs kept trying to suffocate me.”

“I’m sorry.”

You laugh darkly and it excites Natasha. Maybe she was right to be excited as your hand firmly smacks her ass. She cries at the contact, then lets out a laugh of her own. You smack her a few more times on the ass before laying a particularly hard slap on her cunt. This causes the spy’s whole body to jerk.

Your eyes dilate with power, “You know why I never fucked you like this before?”

While you speak, you cautiously walk over to the drawer and grab the items that you’re looking for. Natasha sniffles and shakes her head. Her red ass is already begging for mercy, but you let her hand slam down on it anyway.

“I didn’t hear you?”

“I don’t know,” her voice is hoarse, and it turns you on.

“Because I didn’t think you could handle it,” you spin the girl, so she is face to face with the large silicone penis hanging from your hips.

“I can handle it.”

You hand finds its way in her deep red hair, and you pull roughly, “Then I guess you can handle a good face fucking right?”

Natasha nods, looking up at you through her eyelashes. She keeps eye contact as she takes the large appendage in her mouth. Her head bobs eagerly up and down. The tight hold you have on her hair guides her loosely. Once she goes down to the base, is when you start really fucking her face. You hold her head in place as she starts to gag. She pushes back, but you don’t let her fully back off. You pull her hair as to force her head back and forth on the cock. The drool that coats her chin makes you begin to sweat.

Her bobbing doesn’t stop even when you begin thrusting into her mouth. At this moment you wished the dick was her. The warmth you’re getting from just seeing her like this is wild. You force her mouth off the cock and slap her across the face with it a few times.

“You’re such a good cock slut baby. Take it again for me. I want to see you gag on this dick.”

Natasha’s hands find themselves on your abdomen as she takes the piece in her mouth yet again. This time making sure to keep eye contact with you as her cheeks hollow out. You throw your head back, “My god Natasha.”

Her tongue swirls around the tip as she sucks the head. The pop that comes with her letting the dick free from her mouth echoes in the room.

You’re quick to get Natasha to her feet and push her against a wall. Her ass is pressed flushed against the cock. She moans pushing further back into you. The work she did with her mouth was enough lube in your opinion. You shoved the dick inside of her. She screamed out and you found your hand covering her mouth.

“You wanted it rough like this right? My hand over your mouth? Maybe over your throat, fucking you as hard as I want.”

The sound of your hips pounding against hers filled the room completely. Sweat dripped over both of your bodies, but it was euphoric. You didn’t want stop fucking Natasha. You turned her around, picked her up, walking back over to the bed. You lay on the bed similar to earlier. Except this time, you were inside her as she straddled your hips.

“Ride it and don’t cum until I say so.”

The spy nods and begins rapidly bouncing on you. The pressure that happened when she fully sat on the cock was driving you to the edge. She pants but doesn’t stop riding you. You sit up slightly to capture on of her tits in your mouth causing her to moan louder.

“Bounce on me Natty, fuck. You take me so well.”

Youn start thrusting up frantically to meet Natasha’s bouncing midway. You see tears streaming down her face as she whines in pleasure. You her whispering, “Please, please, fuck, Y/n, fuck.”

“Beg me, baby. I want to hear you beg to cum.”

Her green eyes lock on yours, “Please, please, Y/n. Baby I need to cum. I wanna cum on your fat cock. Cum with me baby, please. I need it, I need you. Fuck I want you so bad, not just like this in every way baby. But I need to cum, please, please.”

“Cum for me.”

Natasha’s movements stop as she spasms on your cock. The sight has you coming undone as well. Natasha’s body slumps against yours. Your arms wrap around her holding her flush against your skin. You pull out of her, and she squirms.

Natasha laughs softly to herself. You look at her with a sly smile, “What’re you laughing about?”

“I’m thinking about how I’m telling my employers that I’m going part time because I definitely need to spend more time on us.”

“Dick game that strong, huh?”

Natasha meets your eyes, “Oh no, for sure. Dick game is definitely very strong, but also, I’ve got some strong feelings about you.”

Your hand delicately combs through her hair as you speak, “Feelings like what?”

“Love.”

It feels too normal as you say, “I have that one too.”

Natasha laughs again, “You’re extremely corny.”

“I am, but you’re the one that said I love you first.”

She places a kiss on your neck, “I guess you’re right, but said it back.”

You kiss her forehead, “I did, and I could say it for as long as you’ll have me.”

Natasha places another light kiss on your jaw, “I already told you; I want to spend all of my time on us and that includes the foreseeable future.”

She snuggles closer to you, and you feel her breathing even out. You let out a content sigh, happy with the way things unfolded. Happy that after all that waiting and all of that patience you finally were able to call her yours.

#lowkeyerror #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader

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andypantsx3 · 3 months

Note

Andy I just had a thought.. Shouto kabedon.. i’m very sane about this

Omg I loooveeeeeeeee this omg!!!!!!! You are a genius!!!!!!! This ask unlocked something inside of my brain; this is barely coherent and unedited but I offer you this heartfelt nonsense in return.

contents: shouto x reader, sfw, implied fem reader, aged-up characters, 1.7k

You tried to ignore it when you first heard Mineta say it.

"Trust me, the babes love it," he'd lisped to his doubtful audience—Kaminari, a befuddled-looking Kirishima, and Shouto, whose face was so impassive you'd actually been under the impression he wasn't listening.

The former members of UA's graduating class of 2X74 were stuffed into Kaminari's new apartment for a party. It was mostly the heroics department, but you'd spotted a few of your fellow general course graduates as you'd passed through the kitchen to grab a drink. You'd come out into the living room to see Mina and Jirou—as well as pretend like you weren't ogling your long-time crush Shouto—but you found you were immediately regretting leaving the safety of that kitchen.

"And you've... done it?" Kirishima asked, eyebrows scrunched.

Mineta made a show of inspecting his fingernails like it was nothing to him—which you seriously doubted. "Trust me, women like assertiveness. This move is plastered all over their romance manga."

You took another sip from your drink. You wanted to pretend like you weren't hearing this, but Mina and Jirou were making it hard, Jirou stone-faced next to you and Mina unsuccessfully trying to filter her gleeful laughter into her own drink.

"Do you think women even know it's a kabedon, if he does it?" she asked, leaning in to whisper.

Jirou looked doubtful.

"He's like, waist height," you whispered back, sighing. "I don't even know if his arm would reach the wall either...?"

"I think it probably looks like he's just trying to hold himself up," Mina said, her grin unholy.

"I pity the woman he's attempted it on," Jirou said drily.

"—you're sure?" Kaminari was saying when you turned back to the boys' conversation, also looking doubtful.

"One hundred percent success rate," Mineta insisted, eyebrows wiggling.

Despite yourself, your eyes slid over to Shouto, like they almost always did, wandering over that handsomely thoughtful expression. It was the thing you liked the most about him—how his angelically beautiful visage was at stark odds with how awkward and kind of strange he was; how he looked like an ice prince but was one of the warmest, kindest people you'd ever spoken to.

You'd been paired for a couple assignments back in school, hung out on the periphery of his Class A friend groups, and had ended up teaching him a fair few things about how to cook and do laundry when he'd asked. He'd even rescued you during one of the many attacks that made up your time at UA together—which was really when your crush hit you full-force.

He'd been so gentle with you, carrying you out of harm's way when your injured leg had crumpled beneath you, and the careful way he'd handled you had been so at variance with the raw, roiling power he'd wielded on the battlefield—the tidal waves of ice that swept up the villains, the towering wall of fire that mercilessly choked off any of their escape points.

You thought Shouto was one of the most gentle, well-mannered men on earth.

He would probably never kabedon someone. He would never need to—people fell all over themselves for him.

"The babes fall right into your arms," Mineta said, raising his voice to encompass the knot of girls stuffed together on the loveseat. "Isn't that right, ladies?"

"I'm going to get another drink, the image of Mineta trying to kabedon me needs to be wiped from my brain," you told the girls, flinging yourself over Mina's legs in your haste to escape.

The kitchen was a welcome reprieve, and you dug around in Kaminari's fridge for another can, letting the cool air wash over you. You studiously ignored that all Kaminari seemed to have in his fridge was a pile of moldering grapes and some mayo.

Can acquired, you briefly considered not going back out into the living room and abandoning Mina and Jirou to their fate. But the pull of Shouto was too strong, and with a sigh you resigned yourself to more of Mineta's lechery.

In the hallway, however, you stumbled into the man himself, coming towards you from the opposite direction. You were struck momentarily dumb by the way the breadth of his shoulders seemed to take up almost the entire span of the hall, the way his fading summer tan looked against the light-blue of his button up. He was so handsome even when he was just walking, it was so deeply unfair.

"Hi Shouto," you said, raising your can in a salute, hoping your voice sounded normal. "Careful in Kaminari's fridge, he's culturing something on his grapes."

Shouto blinked down at you, those beautiful mismatched eyes growing a little wider. "Y/N," he greeted you, though there was a note of something strange in his voice, like there was something weird about you that he hadn't expected.

You wondered if you'd spilled something on yourself like a child, and decided to detour to the bathroom on your way back. How embarrassing.

You gave him a rueful grin, stuffing yourself against the wall so you wouldn't accidentally bump a strong shoulder as you passed, swearing vengeance on your drink if it had betrayed you in this moment—

Except, suddenly there was a hand against the wall in front of you, blocking your passage down the hall. You startled, whipping back around to stare at Shouto, only to find him looming way closer than you had anticipated.

Your back bumped the wall as he crowded you in, his other arm coming up to press against the wall on your other side, caging you inside his reach.

Your mind was so overwhelmed with the sight of him this close—that straight, blade-thin nose, that full, pouty mouth—the light touch of some expensive cologne at his collarpoints—that it took you a second to catch up with what was going on.

Your mouth dropped open when you registered that Todoroki Shouto had just—kabedoned you?—was actively kabedonning you? what the literal fuck—in the middle of Kaminari's hallway.

"Shouto? What—?" you managed, your voice strangled. The air felt like it was resisting you, refusing to be drawn into your lungs.

Shouto's voice was low and intimate as he answered, sending a mortifyingly visible shiver right down your spine. "Is it working?"

You gaped at him, eyes flickering over his serious expression. "Is—what—?"

Shouto shifted even closer, so that his face was a scant two inches from yours. You were suddenly, horrifyingly aware of how close his mouth was, how tall and strong and warm he was over you.

"Do you plan to fall into my arms?" Shouto asked. "Mineta said women liked it."

It was a fight for your life to make the connection over the static in your brain, the lack of oxygen in the air. Mineta had said women would fall for you if you kabedonned them... Shouto was.... kabedonning you.... computation pending...

"You... want it to work?" you asked, words clipped. You felt like any stray movement and your mouth would brush his, and you didn't know if he wanted—it was too strange to think that he might—

"Yes," Shouto replied, his handsome face serious. Those heterochromatic eyes searched over you, trailing over your features like a warm touch. "I want it to. Am I... not doing it correctly?"

Your face heated, and an entire conservatory of butterflies took flight in your stomach. You could not believe what was going on right now.

"No you're—you're doing it right."

Shouto's face was even closer, then, his mouth a whisper away from yours. "Then you have fallen for me," he said, sounding like both a question and a conclusion. He looked like he didn't know what to do next.

You had to suppress a laugh, charmed and mystified and nervous all at once. He was so reliably strange—of course he had taken Mineta's assertions at face value. And he was so straightforward, of course he had implemented the advice straight away. He was so silly, you liked him so, so much.

"I... have," you said, a helpless smile creeping over your lips. "Although it was a while before the kabedon, to be honest."

Shouto blinked, and you could just barely see his mouth grow a little slack in surprise. "Oh," he said, a hint of a shy smile touching his mouth. "Good."

"Yeah. Good," you said, your own grin going wider.

Shouto's eyes dipped down to your mouth, and his eyelashes fluttered. A thrill of anticipation went down your spine, your knees suddenly liquefying, as Shouto leaned back in, and your own eyes fluttered closed.

The press of his mouth was hot and soft—perfect, like you'd always fantasized it would be. He shifted closer, so that he pressed against you, and you had to tilt your head back to accommodate how tall he was, reveling in the strength and the heat of him over you. One of his hands left the wall to thread into your hair as he kissed you, cradling the back of your head like you were something precious, and your stomach swooped in response.

He kissed you boneless, absolutely stupid against the wall of Kaminari's hallway, and it was all your could do to wrap your arms around him and kiss him back. You didn't know how long it was that the two of you stood there, wrapped up in one other. All you knew was you never wanted Shouto's mouth to leave yours again, never wanted to leave the circle of his embrace.

So of course an appreciative whistle broke the two of you apart. You tore your mouth away from Shouto's only to find Mineta standing at the end of the hall, grinning like a wolf. A tiny, lecherous little wolf.

"Nice one, Tododoki," he said, like you weren't even there.

You bristled, stiffening in Shouto's arms as you glanced back at him quickly to measure his response. But the dazed look on Shouto's face pulled you up short, and he looked at Mineta like he wasn't really seeing him.

"You were right," was what he eventually managed. "The kabedon is very effective. Now if you will excuse us, I need to do it again."

A shocked laugh escaped you as Shouto's hand seized yours, and then you were being pulled around the corner into Kaminari's bathroom. Shouto walked you back against the door, an arm coming up just like before, pinning you against the door.

Another pleased laugh was muffled in Shouto's mouth as he took yours again, cupping your face to his. The lock clicked shut behind you.

#shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x you #todoroki x you #character: todoroki shouto

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od4saku · 11 months

Text

Geto Suguru falls in love for the first time at 15.

He doesn’t know how he’s never seen you before— by the first time he sees you, he’s already halfway through his first year at Tokyo’s Prefectural Jujutsu high school. You’re a second year, and so, so cool. All loud laughter and confidence, sharp smiles and intelligence— he can’t help but admire you.

He likes to think that his status as a special grade sorcerer can separate him from being a cringey teenaged boy with a disastrous crush. In hindsight, it may have just made it worse. His attempts to impress you, constant and perpetual, never went quite right. Ever the gentleman, Geto would do all the chivalrous things. He would open doors for you, and then get hit in the face by them. He’d pull out your chair, and then trip over the legs. He tried, though, he really did. And you seemed to pick up on that.

Maybe you were simply entertaining his awkward attempts at being smooth. Maybe you were just playing along. But sometimes when he made a joke, you would laugh and touch his arm. And other times when he messed something up or did something stupid, you would call him ‘so cute’ which caused his friends to tease him and made him go red in the face. He had always thought of himself as smooth, calm, collected. You proved that everything could change.

At was almost the end of the school year when Gojo’d managed to rule Geto up enough to urge him to speak on his feelings. It’s February. A layer of frost encases the world, as if it was trying to preserve it, keep it that way forever. But the sun was suspended in the sky, chipping away at the icy covering. Change is coming, says the sky. Geto agrees. He will welcome it, even. It must be a good omen, he presumes, a sign of fortune to come.

You are knelt down by a small pond. With a stick in hand, he observes you for a moment as you appear to poke at the thinning sheet of ice covering the body of water.

“What are you doing?” He can see, he knows, but he asks anyways. You turn over your shoulder and give him a bright, bright smile. He feels himself melting inside.

“I was waiting for Mei Mei, for our assignment in Shibuya. But she’s going to be late, I think.” You frown a little, and he joins you on the ground in front of the little pond. The both of you watch as chunks of ice slowly decay into nothingness as the sunlight licks the surface. Greedy like a child with ice cream. Always taking more. (Change is coming.)

“So, this isn’t a bad time?”

You look at him again, shifting your body to face him rather than the pond. Soft beams of sunlight kiss your cheek, and he takes in every detail. How your eyes glow warm, bright, so bright, even though you have to squint a little. How your hair turns to fire. How you are looking at him and only him. “No. Is there something you need to say to me, Geto?”

He’s so confident. He will tell you that yes, he wants to ask you to lunch at a café he found in the city. He wants to pay for your food, and pull out a chair for you without falling over. He wants to take you on a date. He wants to tell you about how he likes you, why he likes you, and argue a thesis as to why you would be good together. So he opens his mouth.

None of that comes out.

“No. I was just curious,” he lies through his teeth, gesturing to the pond. Oh, he’s fucked this. Gojo and Shoko were most definitely going to get on his ass about this later. He grimaces a grin as you smile.

“Ah, don’t mind me! I was just killing time, you know?”

He’s 15, almost 16. He’s a special grade jujutsu sorcerer. He is one of the strongest. You made him so, so weak. He forgets himself, sometimes. That he is still a boy despite it all.

He hums conversationally, though he’s feeling particularly embarrassed internally. “So cold out. Do you think we’ll get snow?”

At least Geto is good with his words, good enough to cover up his lull, his fumble. At least you don’t notice anything wrong as you respond with a glance skyward, “hm. I doubt it. I wish, though.”

“Really? Don’t you want nicer weather?”

You tilt your head a little and he feels dizzy, and lightheaded. He isn’t paying much attention to what you’re saying even though he should be. Geto is more focused on the slope of your nose, the angle of your cheeks, the curve of your hand as it thrums against your thigh. “In my opinion, snow is the best kind of weather. I like how everything fits together. And I like when it melts. How it smells and all.”

He laughs. “You’re so weird.”

You punch his shoulder lightly. “Plus, snow reminds me of when I was younger. Snowball fights, shopping for scarves and coats and gloves, all that. So I guess it’s personal.”

He softens. You give him another smile but it’s melancholy this time. A nostalgia. He wants to engrave it into his memory. Keep you forever. “Do you wish you could go back ever?”

You would be lying if you said no, so you say yes instead. “But there’s no point in thinking about that, yeah? We can do all that now. Next winter. Let’s build an igloo or something, Geto.”

The smile is on his face before he knows it and he’s pried away from the emotional intimacy as soon as it’s shown itself. You are bright again and he is a moth. Enamoured by you, always. “Let’s.”

He bids you farewell a moment or so later when Mei Mei’s silhouette appears in the distance. He would be more upset, if he thought about his lack of confession. But as always, conversing with you is fulfillment enough. He can always ask when you get home, he thinks. He can ask, and you can say yes. And you can plan out the igloo you’re going to build, and he can map out the future house you’re going to share.

Except, the ice melts in the pond. And the frost turns to water permeating the soil. And you never come home.

This is Geto Suguru’s first taste of death. The impermanence of it all. The way that in less than a day, someone could be gone.

It was an oversight on the part of the initial reports. A special grade curse instead of two 1st grades. He knows because he is the one called in for backup, and he is the one who finds your body. You are cold like the snow by the time it is all over. Colder, even. And you’re still so pretty it hurts.

He’s never seen the body of a loved one before. He is so strangely detached and yet, at the same time, so full of anguish. Who could’ve stopped this? Could he have? What if you were alive? What would you say? Did it hurt? Were you going to be okay, wherever you were now? He thinks back to the conversation about the snow. He thinks back to the tripping over chairs, the way you always made space for anyone in any room. The way you loved so big in such little ways. The way it almost could’ve worked.

You taught Geto that change is inevitable. That death is always a part of life, especially for innocents, especially for those who deserve it the least. This is his beginning of the end. The way it will all begin to fall apart. Because he never got to know your favorite color. He never got to know how you like your coffee, or where you liked to shop. The only thing he knew is that you liked the cold. So next time it snowed, he would stay inside and lament the fact that if the world was a little different, and a lot kinder, you would be there with him.

You’d have said yes to his date, he believes. If you’d gotten the chance.

(Ice melts. The sun is hot, too hot. Change is coming.)

(Maybe it's already here.)

"Grief was a spare room where we put things." -Aimee Seu, Velvet Hounds

#geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru #getou suguru #jujutsu kaisen #reader insert #angst #mcd

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astraystayyh · 11 months

Text

seungmin taking off his mask brainrot. allusion to sex but no smut. still mdni.

honestly i struggled with tagging this, because it's not smut but also not fluff either hshshs enemies to fwb??? anyways i hope this reaches its target audience,, enjoy <33 (lowercase intended)

seungmin is an asshole.

you don't like him. he's always around, nagging you, throwing unnecessary comments your way about every little thing you do or say. if it were solely up to you, you wouldn't talk to him ever again. but he's jeongin's best friend, who also happens to be your best friend, so seeing him is inevitable.

he's there sipping on his iced americano, wispy bangs falling in front of his brown eyes, fixated on you. he's there sitting across of you in the campus garden, hitting your leg repeatedly with his foot. he's there at jeongin's dorm, who also happens to be his roommate, strolling around shirtless with no care in the world.

he's infuriating, everything about him makes you mad. from the way he smiles proudly when he sees that he's getting on your nerves, to the way he leans his face onto yours, faking interest in whatever you are saying.

seungmin is an asshole, and to your surprise, he's here to pick you up.

you know it's him, from the red converse he is wearing, and his familiar black leather jacket. you can also tell from the hands gripping the handles of the motorcycle. they aren't clad with rings, so it can't be jeongin. the friend who was actually supposed to pick you up.

you half debate staying home, cursing jeongin in your brain for forcing you to spend more time with seungmin. but you really wanted to go to that party chan is hosting. you needed the free alcohol, badly.

so you huff, as seungmin takes his sweet time parking, mentally preparing to curse him too. but the words die in your throat as soon as he removes his helmet.

he has caramel colored hair now.

he slides off the motorcycle, running an easy hand through his hair. it looks soft, and you wonder what it smells like. citrus, maybe, or pinewood. he then leans onto his engine, smirking at you slightly. you roll your eyes, taking one step forward towards him.

"i think you're obsessed with me."

"yeah? why is that?" he smiles, tilting his head to the side, his arms now crossed in front of his chest.

"you just had to pick me up right. couldn't stand being away from me that badly?"

"correct." he doesn't deny and you huff, grabbing the second helmet and putting it on.

"let's make this as short as possible."

"my pleasure," he bows slightly and you bite your lip, trying to suppress the tiniest smile from coming out. you really liked his hair, it made his honeyed eyes stand out more.

he gets on first, and you follow suit. you were used to riding with jeongin but this is your first time doing it with seungmin. you hesitate for a couple of seconds, before wrapping your arms loosely around his waist.

"hold tight," he tells you, adding a soft "please" after a few silent beats. you oblige, and then he takes off with no further warning.

the drive is short, and you can't seem to focus on anything but the warmth emanating from seungmin's body. you are hyper aware of your thighs pressing against his, and his broad back snug against your chest. it feels intimate, for some odd reason, and you almost close your eyes to fully savor it. almost.

when you arrive, you're quick to hop off, handing your helmet to seungmin. he takes it from you silently, before removing his own too.

strands of his hair stay upwards and you debate internally for a second, before reaching to smooth them down.

you were right, his hair is incredibly soft to the touch.

"you look pretty," he says. and he sounds sincere- different from how he usually speaks to you.

"thank you," you reply quietly, " i like your new hair."

"really? I'm not sure if it suits me," he admits, running a hand through it self-consciously. it felt weird, to see him anything but confident and boastful.

"it does. what shampoo do you use?"

"i don't know. something citrusy, i think."

"figured."

....

your naked chest is pressed to seungmin's, limbs so tangled you can no longer tell where your body ends and his begins.

you didn't exactly plan on ending up here tonight, you weren't even sure how this happened. you just couldn't take your eyes off seungmin's hair, and then his eyes landed on your lips and suddenly he was leading you to the nearest bedroom.

but you don't mind, not when seungmin looks this way. the light is dim and dark shadows reflect on his face. there is a sheen layer of perspiration on his upperbrow, and you imagine you must look the same. sweaty and slightly dazed, a pink hue adorning your cheeks.

seungmin traces your lips with his thumb, going over your cupid bow ever so slowly. it makes shivers run down your spine, and you huddle closer to him. as close as you physically could anyways, since you were practically glued to him.

"had i known this would happen i would've died my hair sooner," he smirks cheekily and that brings you to his hair again. you run your hand through its soft locks gently. a stark contrast to how hard you were tugging them moments ago.

"mm, it's all because of this caramel color," you smile back, its citrusy scent wafting to your nose. "i really like your shampoo."

"are you turned on by scents?" he jokes and you swat his arm, leaning a bit away from him.

"it just smells nice. sue me."

"it's okay, you smell nice too," he chuckles, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. you appreciate it. it makes you feel less weird about how affected you are by him.

"i... i told jeongin that i wanted to pick you up," he mumbles onto your skin and you feel yourself tense slightly. "why?"

"wanted to see you first," he says quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone. it makes you dizzy. you don't find him infuriating any more.

"let's talk about this later," you finally reply, pulling him away from you.

"mm. what do you want to do now?" he smiles, grazing your naked arm with the back of his hand.

you straddle his lap, swiping his bangs away from his forehead. that damned hair of his.

"you."

#seungmin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids imagine #skz drabbles #seungmin fluff

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 5 months

Text

Rest Had Seemed The Sweetest Thing.

Bucky's slowly learning that love isn't a finite resource. aka, Bucky's first Christmas.

pairing - bucky barnes x female reader

warnings - none!! just tooth rottingly sweet fluff <3

word count - 1.7k

author's note - based on these two requests!! i'm also trying a new post format... what do we think?? I promised you i'd get a couple of xmas fics out before the 25th... I lied. apologies!! forgive me. title taken from the poem The Owl by Edward Thomas.

as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics. thanks, angels <3

masterlist. inbox.

He whispers the words, timid and reserved, directly into your ear as if he's worried someone else will hear. It's only the two of you sat on the couch in your shared apartment, but Bucky's nervous.

Your head whips around in shock, trying to play it cool. Failed.

"Are you... are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

You grin, big and blinding, the beams of it radiating into Bucky's bones. It settles into his muscles, eases the tension from his shoulders.

You try not to make a big deal of it, try to keep your excitement under wraps. But you've been waiting for him to say those words for almost six years.

"I want to do Christmas this year."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

He hates the cold.

No, he's traumatised by the cold.

Years spent frozen, genetically modified and locked in a glorified freezer. Every gust of wind, every flake of snow reminds him of the darkest days with no light to be seen. His blood may run hot, but he feels like his heart is yet to thaw. He debates moving to the desert at least ten times a day.

Then he looks at you. How happy you are when winter comes around. The way your face lights up when it snows. And he figures that if it brings you this much joy... maybe he can tolerate it.

He bites back the chill, grits his teeth at the icy breeze, ignores the shudder of the cold all the way down to his bones. He grins and bears it, because you love it. He thinks you don't notice.

You do.

You've known ever since you met him. His demeanour changes when the winter comes around. He gets a little tentative around the autumn time, as if he's preparing himself for the worst. And then the first snow falls, and he's different. Guarded. Careful. Reluctant. He puts a fake smile on his face and pretends, but you're nothing if not completely in tune with everything Bucky Barnes.

You never asked, never pried. Just stood steadily by his side, regardless of the walls he'd placed around himself. Around his heart.

He broke down one night, wrapped up in bed with you. A chill had blown through your old apartments rickety windows and unearthed old memories, ice running into his veins. He was sure his tears were frozen as they dripped down his face.

You understood him better, since that day.

You've tried to suggest moving in subtle and not so subtle ways, but he won't have it. He knows this is your home. He knows you like it here. He knows he can stay, if he works a little harder on himself.

So, he tries. Every single day, he tries. And that's all that matters.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Okay, so... ground rules. Hit me, Buck. We do this on your terms."

He thinks for a moment before turning to face you.

"I want it to be just us. No one else."

"Done."

"And I don't wanna do the whole Christmas dinner thing. Feels like too much all at once."

You fight the urge to burst into tears at how easily he's communicating with you, how effortlessly he's enforcing his boundaries. You've come a long way.

"Done. Agreed, by the way. Fuck Christmas dinner. We'll do our own thing."

He grins at you, leaning in to kiss you slowly, tenderly, leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world.

"I want to get a tree. And lights. We don't have to do all the ornaments and stuff, but lights would be nice."

"I have an artificial tree in the back of the storage closet... is that okay?"

"Perfect. I don't want to stand on all the pine needles, anyway."

Laughing, you shift closer to him, tangling your legs together on the couch.

"And no gifts for me."

"But Buck-"

"Angel. I don't want anything. I have everything I need sat next to me."

You roll your eyes, but you can't wipe the smile off your face.

"This isn't fair, suddenly."

"It's plenty fair. You stress too much when you buy gifts, and this is going to be a stress free Christmas. Understood?"

He hooks his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Understood," you whisper, swinging your knee over so you're straddling him. "Stress free."

Bucky tilts his head up to kiss you, gentle at first, then firmer when you roll your hips into his. He's a little distracted, admittedly. He got you to promise not to get him anything, but made sure you wouldn't ask the same. His mind runs a mile a minute, trying to wrack his brain on what kind of gift to get for the love of his life, the person that saved him and continues to save him every single day.

He comes up empty, but lets you kiss the thoughts away for a little while.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"My mom taught me this specific way to hang lights on your tree. Look, grab this end and I'll show you."

You're both still in your pyjamas, fire roaring, a jazzy Christmas melody playing from the radio. You decided you wouldn't put up your tree until the day before, to save Bucky from feeling overwhelmed. It's worked, so far - he looks plenty relaxed as he chuckles and rises from the armchair.

"You're tall, so hold this above your head so they don't tangle."

You work diligently, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Bucky's happy to watch you, fighting the smile off his face every time you sigh in exasperation. Eventually, you step back and admire your masterpiece, satisfied and content.

"It's beautiful, baby," he whispers, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

He presses a kiss into your neck, then another, then another. Your eyes slip closed, and you sink into his embrace, feeling more at peace than you ever thought possible. You spend the evening by the fire, lying on the rug, room illuminated by the lights on the tree.

It's perfect in every way.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Merry Christmas, angel."

"Merry Christmas, Buck."

His hand finds yours under the duvet, pulling you in close. You tangle yourself around him like lights on a tree, all encompassed by his warmth.

"What's the plan for today, Sergeant?"

He presses a kiss into your temple, propping himself up on his elbow so he can see you properly.

"I say we make some breakfast, spend all day on the couch, and then maybe make some dinner? I know we said we wouldn't do a traditional Christmas dinner, but it'd still be nice to take the time to cook something."

"That sounds perfect."

In the kitchen, you make pancakes with copious amounts of maple syrup, strawberries and pieces of banana strewn across your plates.

"My Mom made us pancakes every Christmas morning, you know."

"You've never told me that."

"I know. I kind of refrained from ever talking about anything festive, because I didn't want you to feel guilty."

"For making you miss out for so many years?"

"I haven't missed out, baby. I chose not to do Christmas because I love you. And that love takes precedent over everything else."

Bucky kisses you then, across the kitchen table, full and golden and so full of love you almost fall off your chair. He tastes like blueberry jam and syrup and coffee, and you wish you could bottle it up and stick a little under your tongue when you get homesick.

"What changed?"

"Hmm?"

"Why now? I would have been content to never do Christmas again, if it made you happy."

"Because I realised something, a couple of months ago. We were sat in the park, and you were laughing at that dog chasing the boomerang. The sun was making you glow, like some sort of angel, and I just knew. I can do anything with you by my side. I can't put my future on hold because of my past."

You're fighting back tears as you look at him, so happy and content. You never thought this was possible, when you first met him.

And here you are.

Celebrating Christmas, showing him your childhood traditions, making pancakes like your Mama used to. You're sat at the kitchen table as the snow falls outside and the warmth that Bucky's love brings is keeping the chill at bay.

It doesn't get better than this.

"I got you something," he murmurs almost sheepishly.

"Bucky-"

"Don't yell at me! I know it makes me a hypocrite, I know I said no gifts, I know."

You roll your eyes, but watch his every move as he gets up and leaves the room. You finish your breakfast and put both of your plates in the sink, turning on the tap so they can soak. When you turn around, Bucky has returned.

He's on one knee.

There's a ring between his fingers, glinting in the winter sun. You're both still in your pyjamas, warm and full, not quite having shaken off the heavy embrace of sleep just yet.

It's perfect.

"Maybe it's cliche to propose on Christmas day, but... I want to replace all of my old memories with new ones. Memories like this."

You walk over to him, kneeling down in front of him so your eyes are level.

"You've taught me what love is, baby. And I can never repay you for that. But I can certainly try. Every day, I can try."

There are tears dripping down both of your cheeks, Bucky's grin matching yours. The two of you are overwhelmed in the best way, unsure of how to process the gravity of what you're feeling.

"Marry me, baby. Let's do this forever."

You lunge forward and smash your lips to his, laughing into his mouth.

"Yes," you breathe when you pull away. "God, yes. A million times yes, Buck."

His arms wrap around your middle as he picks you up, twirling you in circles around the kitchen, both of you shrieking with joy.

Bucky slips the ring onto your finger when he puts you down, both of you tilting your heads to admire it.

"I love you," you murmur, leaning up to press your foreheads together. "The cold can't touch you now, baby. This love will warm us forever."

The cold can't touch him now. Love will warm him forever.

@lizzystuffsthings <3

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bonesandchalamet · 1 year

Text

lessons in french- t.chalamet

pairings: timothee chalamet x reader

warnings: google translated French

a/n: first post on this account 😁 my main is @thatsdemko 🫶 feedback is always appreciated xx

“and how do I say ‘I love you’ again?”

“Je t'aime.” he says, mouth full of a buttery croissant you fetched from the bakery across the street. it’s your morning ritual, the boy who lives across town comes to your apartment and you get him “New Yorks finest croissants”— at least that’s how he puts it as.

your recent discovery was of his ability to speak a different language, French that is, and ever since you’ve been begging for lessons due to your upcoming trip to Europe. you could say New York public school systems failed you, as you barely remember a lick of the words he makes you repeat.

“and what about stop making a mess of my sofa.” you scowl brushing the pastry crumbs that scatter the cream colored seats. he mumbled a sorry as he finishes his last bite, a delighted moan escapes his lips.

“why the sudden interest in the language again?” he asks brushing his hands on his pants rather than using the crummy paper napkin that’s already wadded up and disintegrating from the butter of his hands.

“because I’m going to Europe in three weeks! I can’t look like an idiot.”

“certaines choses ne peuvent pas être changées.” he lightly giggles shaking his head watching your face scrunch up trying to dissect the sentence, but you fail. some things can’t be changed

you huff an annoyed sigh, arms crossed over your chest, “I wish I never bought you that croissant years ago.” you joke watching his acting skills come to life as he pretends to be hurt.

“now you’re just being straight up rude, amour.”

—

“so when a nice guy offers me a drink at the club what should I say?”

“J'ai un petit-ami.” the same buttery croissant fills his mouth, he watches you saunter across your tiny New York City living room. he admits, you not knowing any French is fun for him. it means he has all control of what you repeat back and what you write in your journal for the trip. this one might’ve just been the icing on the cake. I have a boyfriend

“J’ai un petit-ami? doesn’t that mean something else?” you question, head cocked to the side watching him shake his head in response as he swallows the pastry.

“nope.” he replies, reaching for the hot coffee you’ve provided him, he slurps the contents watching your pen move vigorously across the page. he thinks it’s cute how focused you are, he loves how close you hold the notebook to your face and how you spell out the words in a way only you will know what they mean.

“so are all French people assholes? I’ve been reading up on your people.”

he laughs, “my people?” he watches the red hue light your face, hands up in defense, “that’s what the internet says!”

he laughs once more telling you to never believe the internet, although he did play you into thinking the words “I have a boyfriend” mean something completely different, so maybe he is apart of that collective group.

—

“repeat it to me once more, amour.”

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?” do you want to sleep with me tonight

he chuckles a little to himself trying to find a serious tone, “that’s exactly what you should say to the cab driver.”

you chuck an orange at him watching his hands go up in defense as he allows the fruit to hit him the arm, two of you laughing, “this isn’t funny, Timmy! I leave in twenty-four hours!”

he watches you collapse against the cream colored sofa beside him, legs extending into his lap, “how am I supposed to order croissants for you across the world?” you bat your eyelids in an affection way, it’s your last hope to get help— the pastry was already the key to his heart. it gets him to do anything.

“what a dilemma that is.” he shakes his head, fingers tangling through his curls that fall in front of his eyes, “just don’t forget your notebook and you’ll be fine. do you remember how to order?”

“un croissant š'il vous plaît.” a croissant please

“tu est parfaite.” you are perfect

—

his phone buzzes in his pocket, it hasn’t even been a full day since you landed in Paris and you’ve been buzzing him like a mad woman. it’s his first time being in your place alone, he’s in charge of watering your plants. he notices you’ve left him money for his croissants and an extra key in case he misplaces the one you already gave him.

“bonjour mon ami how is Paris?” he picks up the phone plopping down onto your cream colored sofa and pressing speaker so he can listen and eat.

“did you know j’ai un petit-ami is I have a boyfriend?! you lied to me!”

he laughs, the familiar sound spreads a smile on your face despite your angry tone, it’s nice to hear him. even if you’ve been texting him, his voice is what you miss right now, “I guess you’re right my people are assholes.”

“damn right, chalamet! and I learned a little something from the bartender last night, tu es un connard!” you are an asshole

“Je t'aime!”

#timothee x reader #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet #timothee fanfic #timothee imagine #timothee chamalet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #Timothee chalamet x y/n #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothée chalamet #timothée x reader #timothée fanfic #timothee x you #timotheé chalamet #timothée x you

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radioisntdead · 1 month

Note

AHAHHAHAHSHSHHD I HAVE A REQUESTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT IF YOU DON'T MIND BUT CAN YOU DO A HUSBAND ALASTOR X CRYBABY READER

Good evening my dear! Indeed I can!

I'm on a songfic fix at the moment so hopefully you don't mind me turning this into one, if you do just let me know and I can write a proper oneshot, drabble or headcanons

Crybaby

Warnings:

Murder, Alastor being weird, mild angst, OOC, the ending is a bit muddled because lack of motivation hit me like a TRUCK.

The song I chose for obvious reasons

You seem to replace your brain with your heart, You take things so hard and then you fall apart

You always had what one would call a bleeding heart, tears would overflow at the slightest instance, you fell onto the ground? Tears, you saw a rabbit munching on a carrot? Tears fell because it was just SO cute, you sobbed as you stabbed a guy to death, blubbering out apologies saying you wouldn't have to do it if he had JUST kept his mouth shut and didn't say those awful, awful things.

You try to explain, but before you can start

You met Alastor when the two of you were alive, he was an aspiring radio host at the time and well, your father ran a rather popular radio station.

Those "Cry baby" tears come out of the dark

You were considered the favorite child, (or the only child depending on the route you go) and Alastor knew that, he wasn't above using people to climb up the social ladder.

Someone's turning the handle to that faucet in your eyes

Everything was planned out, like how the two of you met, he found out what places you frequented, choosing a cafe to be the place to run into you.

You had accidentally poured warm coffee on his clothes, you cried out apologies as you patted him dry with napkins, offering to pay for drycleaning.

You pour it out where everyone can see

And that was it, it started with him charming you, asking you out for coffee, lunch, dinners and eventually he had you hooked.

Your heart's too big for your body, it's why it won't fit inside

Him eventually catching feelings for you was just the icing on the cake, a bonus, you and him felt similarly to certain affections.

His mother quite liked you as well asking him to bring you by again when you met her the first time.

You pour it out where everyone can see

As the relationship grew, he became a prominent radio personality, eventually proposing to you leading to marriage.

They call you cry baby, cry baby

Alastor was supposed to be working late that night, you weren't expecting him to come home as you washed the blood off of your hands, blood stained the bathroom sink, dried tears leaving faint streaks on your face.

But you don't fucking care

"Mon étoile?"

You slowly turned around as if you were in a horror movie, the one person you didn't want to see you like this.

Cry baby, cry baby

You burst into tears falling onto the ground, not even trying to explain yourself, Alastor grinned and moved next to you, gently wiping away your tears taking silent joy from them.

So you laugh through your tears

You laughed as Alastor gave a light smooch onto your face.

Cry baby, cry baby

And that begun a new era of your relationship,

You'd act as bait luring in the folks you and Alastor felt like taking away their living privileges.

'Cause you don't fucking care

You lived like that for years, taking many lives, shedding many tears, a killer couple.

Tears fall to the ground

Unfortunately all good things come to an end.

You'll just let them drown

Alastor went to dispose of a body while you cleaned up the aftermath.

You'll just let them drown

The police showing up and breaking the news to you that your dearest Alastor was shot in the head and attacked by dogs shattered you.

Cry baby, cry baby

You spent your days crying, barely being able to organize a funeral that no one other then you attended, after all who would attend the funeral of a murderer.

You're all on your own and you lost all your friends

You were alone now, sure your family urged you to move back home, you were still a sweetheart with a bleeding heart to them, you just fell for Alastor's schemes, that no one saw coming.

You spent your days crying, clinging on to any remnants of Alastor, your social life took a huge hit.

You told yourself that it's not you, it's them

They whispered behind your back, theorizing if you were apart of the murders or not, if you knew, if you were truly innocent.

You're one of a kind and no one understands

You were found dead in your home, alone.

But those "Cry baby" tears keep coming back again

You woke up in hell, you knew you probably weren't going to heaven but still!

Someone's turning the handle to that faucet in your eyes

Tears swelled up in your eyes but you wiped them away before they could fall deciding to look around and assess your situation.

You pour it out where everyone can see

Wandering around you passed by a shop with a radio present in it, reminding you of your dear Alastor.

Your heart's too big for your body, it's why it won't fit inside

The tears started pouring, and before you could do anything else, someone touches your shoulder.

You pour it out where everyone can see

You've been down below for who knew how long now, bring found by Mimzy of all people, a good friend of yours, and Alastor's.

They call you cry baby, cry baby

Mimzy showed up at Alastor's home banging on the front door, you stood a few feet away from her, He opened it displeased at the sudden visit but he smiled wide nonetheless.

"Mimzy dear, pray tell why you are banging on my door at this unholy hour?" He asked, simply hearing his voice the waterworks began as Mimzy pulled you out from where you stood.

But you don't fucking care

Alastor's eyes ever so slightly widened, it hadn't been that long since he died, he suspected you would follow suit eventually but not this quickly.

Cry baby, cry baby

"I believe this one is yours, they've been crying on and off, it's driving me crazy" Mimzy said shoving you into Alastor as you grinned up at him through blurry eyes

So you laugh through your tears

"I missed you." You said as Alastor touched your face, brushing a claw over it, you, much like him and every other sinner looked different from when you were alive, you had permanent gold tear streaks stitched into your face, how ironic.

Cry baby, cry baby

Alastor simply grinned, wiping away a tear.

"You haven't changed a bit, Mon étoile."

'Cause you don't fucking care

"You can pay me back for reunitin' ya lovebirds later!"

Mimzy laughed before running off to do who knows what, making a swift exit for plot convenience.

Tears fall to the ground

And that was that, you were finally reunited.

You'll just let them drown

While Alastor was given the name of The Radio demon you were referred to as the Crying demon,

How original.

Cry baby, cry baby

While Alastor stuck fear with a smile, hearing you wail in the distance stuck fear into others, you'd apologize as you ripped sinners apart just like you did in life.

You'll just let them drown

You watched as Alastor developed a cannibalistic taste for sinners, he opted to bring you sinner hearts as a token of affection,

You teared up from how sweet the extremely messed up act was.

Cry baby, cry baby

You also watched as Alastor's personal hygiene got worse, to the point where you'd chase him down with a sponge and a bucket of water, or before bed with a toothbrush and some toothpaste.

Much to his chagrin he was never able to escape you chasing him.

You'll just let them drown

Alastor's more sadistic tendencies were revealed in full force, with him biting and pinching your cheeks just hard enough to make you cry.

It wasn't a deal breaker but it did weird you out at first.

I look at you and I see myself

Alastor brought you to the Hazbin hotel after Husk and Niffty were pulled from wherever,

You quickly gained an affection for the hotel and it's residents, Alastor may have been using the hotel for his own entertainment but you genuinely believed in Charlie's dream of redeeming sinners.

And I know you better than anyone else

Becoming another parental figure for the princess you showered her with advice and familial affection, saying if you had a child you'd want them to be just like her.

And I have the same faucet in my eyes

Vaggie wasn't spared from the parental affection either, Alastor might not have been fond of her but you were.

So your tears are mine

You eventually became like the hotels therapist, a very prone to crying therapist but a therapist none the less.

You and Charlie tended to cry together especially if the two of you decided to put a emotionally charged movie on for movie nights

They call me cry baby, cry baby

You cried when extermination day happened, taking out exorcists left and right, your tears were filled with anger as you witnessed what happened to Sir Pentious.

But I don't fucking care

You cried tears of joy when the hotel was rebuilt and when Alastor came back from wherever he was.

Cry baby, cry baby

"You are an complete and utter MORON,"

"Mon étoile, W̴̝̖͙̩̹̓͆̏͌̒̔̑͐̕h̶͔̲̄ă̵̟̥͙̥͖͚̋̍̓̓̇̕ţ̶̧͇̞̟͈͔͉̦͋̄͂̌́̉͗ ̸̛̟̖̰͛͐̂̌̃d̷͎͍̦̩̯̂̐̈́̒̇͜ͅï̷̙͎͙̱̲̾̓̓̂d̵̛̛̲̤̺̟͒̈́̽́̑̈́̈͜͠ ̴̬̥̱͓̊̒͛ȳ̶̢̢̛̛̘͓̱̱̭̩̣͈̈́̀͋͘͝ő̴͓̜̥̪͇͙͉̞̜ủ̴̢̖͙̞͈̳̈́̑̋̂̉̈ ̵̩̈́̋̂̾̓̎̌̕̚j̶̛̗̲͚͖̼̻̥͕̚ù̸̫̯̎s̷̛̹̠̠̰͇̬̟̤͖̃̋͋ť̵͇̹͕̞͌ ̵̢̹͖̯͆̀̽́̎̐̐̽̆̃c̴͍̼̤̓̉̃̒̕͠a̶͖̙̭͂͋̓l̸̢̧̨͙̯̹̯̱̳̏̈́̀l̷̡͖͉̟̼̳̹͙̏́̄̃͋ͅ ̶̧͓͍͑m̶̨̡̠̖͇̫͓̅̈́-̷̞̱̪͓̞̅̈́͊̇̎̐͝"

"Don't pull that radio demon bullshit with me right now Alastor! How hard was it to arm yourself? You aren't invincible to ANGELIC WEAPONS!"

You shouted at Alastor as you paced around your newly restored shared room, first aid kit open, bandages wrapped around, angry tears in your eyes.

If you were anyone else, you would be dead for rubbing salt into the still aching wound.

Alastor sighed and swung one leg over the other, crossing his arms intending to wait until your 'temper tantrum' was over.

I laugh through my tears

Normally he rather liked your tears, in a Alastor way, but they were annoying to him in this instance.

Cry baby, cry baby

You grabbed his face, locking your eyes with his,

"You could've died, You would've left me again."

"Dearest,"

"Al,"

"I won't leave you again."

"Promise?"

You asked dropping your hands from his face only for him to hold them in his hands.

"Promise."

'Cause I don't fucking care, Tears fall to the ground

With the hotel rebuilt, bigger, more grand then before, sinners began to trickle in.

Wanting to give redemption a shot,

Some wanted to see someone they knew that more then likely ended up going above, some had nothing left to lose, some just wanted to change, hating what they've become since they fell below.

I just let them drown, Cry baby, cry baby

You quite liked how things were developing, seeing Charlie's face light up when hotel residents improved, getting clean from addiction, proving to be better.

I just let them drown, Cry baby, cry baby

Alastor originally got involved in this place for his own entertainment or otherwise, bringing you with him, he didn't think that his darling crybaby of a wife would get attached.

But maybe he was getting attached too, not that he would ever admit it even to you.

You'll just let them drown, They call you cry baby, cry baby

You and Alastor sat comfortably on the couch in his radio tower, with you laying on his shoulder, his arm gingerly wrapped around you.

I just let them drown

"Al, look how cute they are!"

You said as you held your phone to Alastor, you had to remove a few qualities in order to keep the phone, you didn't mind since you mostly used it to communicate with the hotel residents or look at animal videos on the Internet anyways.

He simply hummed as he grimaced at the phone, you were trying to show him a group of hellborn kittens,

"We should get a cat,"

"We already have a cat."

"Husk doesn't count."

You said frowning as Alastor moved his hand to your cheek, pinching it until tears swelled up in your eyes.

Cry baby, cry baby

You were sobbing at the red creature you held in your arms,

"It's adorable!" You sobbed out holding the catlike creature that you found on the side of the road much to Alastor's displeasure you wanted a cat, and you got a cat thingy

"It looks like Alastor."

"Exactly!"

Alastor squinted at the cat thing you were crying with pride over, he would throw the damned thing out the window but unfortunately you were already attached, and he preferred you to cry over literally anything else other then the failed clone of his.

You'll just let them drown

Good evening folks! Thanks for tuning in! I scheduled this for Saturday so that should mean this is the last of the songfics! [For now anyways] [post-post edit, I LIED THERE WILL BE MORE SONG FICS THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING]

I wanted to go more into how Alastor would probably enjoy the readers crying but it got a little too weird.

Have a wonderful weekend folks!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine

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rollingsins · 1 year

Text

all hers, part iii

summary: you’re hers. but she’s yours too. sometimes she needs a little reminding. sometimes you have no choice but to tie her up.

warnings: (+18): smut: pussy-eating, vaginal fingering, bondage, dom!reader, ghostface!tara.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: for anon, who requested dom!reader with some bondage. let me know what you want to see next ;)

In the end, it really isn’t that hard to hoodwink your Dad into thinking you were fast asleep in your bed most weeknights.

You followed the same routine, ate dinner with him, said goodnight, then climbed out your bedroom window into Tara’s waiting car. In the mornings, she’d wake you with lazy kisses, take you back home before he woke up. You’d meet him downstairs for breakfast. And he didn’t suspect a thing.

It was one of those nights again. You were watching a movie tonight, some indie horror Tara had on her watchlist. You lay against her, sprawled across the couch lazily, head on her shoulder. When you’d first met her, you’d hated horror, hated any kind of gore. Now, you don’t mind it so much.

The actress is kind of cute. You find yourself thinking. She has dark hair, dark eyes, just like Tara’s. You briefly consider saying it aloud. You think better of it.

“The main girl is kind of cute.” Tara says, casually. Sometimes you think she can read your mind.

Jealousy flickers hot through you. It wasn’t often Tara expressed interest in other girls. In fact, it was almost never. She was completely devoted to you, or so you had thought.

You frown, grip her hand a little tighter.

“Too bad for her, you’re mine.”

She hums, a smile playing on her lips. She likes it when you do that. Claim her. When you’re as possessive as she is.

You turn your attention back to the TV, a little irked. She isn’t that cute, you think. And she isn’t Tara’s type. At all. Unconsciously, you tug Tara’s hand into your lap, grip tight.

“What would you do if she was here right now?” Her voice is low. Lips against your ear. “If she was here. In this room. Hitting on me.”

It’s a weighted question. You tighten your grip on her waist.

“I’d tell her to fuck off.”

Tara’s watching you. Your jaw is clenched.

“Is that all?”

You look at her. Try to figure out what kind of game she’s playing.

“What if you walked in on us? Having sex.”

At this you sit up. Stare at her. Even the thought is like ice water down your spine.

“I’d kill you.” Something flickers in her eyes.

“Just me?” She whispers. “Would you kill her too?”

Desire flickers deep within you. You let yourself think. Wonder. If some whore put her hands all over Tara. Kissed her. Took her to bed. You imagine walking in on them, some other girl in Tara’s lap. Riding her. Kissing her. Jealousy flickers through you, tearing your stomach into knots.

“I’d gut her like a fish.” Is what you say. “And then fuck you until you forgot her name.”

Tara’s mouth falls open slightly. Her eyes black with desire. She presses up into you, takes your lips in a searing kiss.

“Because I’m yours.” She says, breathlessly. “And you’re mine.”

You nod.

She presses up into you. Kisses you fiercely.

“Fuck.” She murmurs against your lips. She’s excited. You can tell by the way her hands are roaming, tugging gently at the base of your shirt. “Let’s go upstairs, baby. I want you.”

It’s a familiar trek by this point.

You’re fused at the lips, as always, wild hands and gentle gasps as you try to undress each other before you reach the bedroom. You’re already down to your underwear by the time your back hits the mattress, Tara’s weight on top of you, similarly undressed as she fumbles with your underwear.

She’s gripping your hips. Unclipping your bra, pressing into you. You feel strange. Usually you like it this way. Tara on top, dominating you. It isn’t what you want tonight, you realize all at once. The thought of someone else with her is fresh in your mind. You want to flip her over. Make her remember she’s yours.

“Stop.” You command. She pauses, looks at you, a little confused. Her hand brushes your cheek.

“What is it babe?” She asks, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t want it like this.” She looks confused. You grab her suddenly, flip her around onto the bed. Crawl over her. She’s watching, a little surprised.

“I want to be on top.”

You press a hot kiss to her lips. She smiles against your mouth. “You know I like it when you’re on top.” She says, sucking at the base of your neck. Her fingers trail down between your legs.

“No, baby.” You say, you reach for her hands, hold both of them over her head. “I want to be on top.”

She blinks up at you.

“Oh.”

You kiss her once more, bite at her bottom lip as you let her hands go. You press your full weight onto her, holding her into the mattress. Grind down into her as you reach for her thighs, guide them around your waist.

You slip your tongue between her lips, grind mindlessly against her as you kiss. She’s wet, you can feel her on your stomach. You break away from Tara’s lips, trail kisses down her chest.

Her hands grip tight around your neck, tugging you back up to her.

She kisses you again, her thighs locking tight around your waist. You murmur against her lips, try to pull yourself out of her grasp. This isn’t what you’d meant. You were on top but she still had all the control.

“Stop.” You say, but she doesn’t listen. Her lips fall to your jaw, sucking hotly as she grinds herself up into you.

“If you can’t keep your hands to yourself I’m going to tie them up.” You order, suddenly. Your own voice startles you. She pauses, looks up at you.

“Is that what you want?” You whisper against her lips. “You want me to tie you up and fuck you?”

Her eyes dart between yours. She licks her lips.

“I want to touch you.” Is her answer, but you shake your head.

“No touching. Not until you’ve earned it.”

You can see the fight in her eyes. She wants to challenge you, you can tell. She’s not naturally submissive. Slowly, she nods.

You smile. Nuzzle into her neck.

“Good girl.”

She lets out a breathless little sigh at that, her mouth dropping open only slightly. You press warm kisses down her chest, stopping at the slope of her chest to take her breast in your mouth. She groans as you tease her, kissing, scraping your teeth over her nipples.

“YN.” She moans. Her hands are in your hair, trying to push you down to where she wants you, “Please.”

You release her nipple with a wet pop, look up at her as you untangle her hands from your hair. “No touching.” You insist.

Her lip twitches. She rises up to meet you, takes your face in a desperate kiss. She tugs you into her lap before you can protest, her hands grip your ass as she bites down on your earlobe.

“You’re mine.” She growls into your ear, “Mine to touch, mine to play with. If I want to touch you I will.”

Her words go straight to your pussy. You feel yourself flood with arousal as you close your eyes, imagine just letting her throw you back onto the bed and do whatever she wants to you.

No. Not yet.

You grab her face, take her lips in a searing kiss. Then you’re taking her hands and tugging them above her head, pushing her back into the mattress.

“Naughty girl.” You scold her, “I told you not to touch. I warned you.”

You release her. Climb off her body and make your way over to her closet. She has a scarf somewhere, you remember, fish it out of one of her drawers.

When you get back to the bed she’s watching you with clouded eyes.

“Scoot up.” You tell her. She doesn’t. You grip her legs, lift her to the headboard. Her eyes flash, surprised by your strength. When you reach for her hands, this time she doesn’t protest.

“So disobedient.” You murmur as you tie the scarf around her wrists, “What am I going to do with you?”

You loop the scarf to the headboard.

She looks so pretty in her restraints, hands held high above her head, lips blood red and swollen from your kisses. There’s something in her eyes, you can’t quite make out; arousal, sure, tinged with a little bit of uncertainty. Like she’s turned on, but she isn’t sure why.

You reward her with a kiss. Move back to admire your handy-work. She’s only in her underwear now, bra long discarded. You finish the job, pulling her panties down her legs. You lick your lips. She looks delectable. Restrained, and wet and naked. All yours.

“I can’t move my hands.” She says, pointedly.

“Yes baby, that’s the point.”

She tugs at her restraints, but they don’t even budge. The knots you learned in girl scouts were finally coming in handy.

“I can’t touch you.” She whines.

“It’s my turn to touch you.” You say. You spread her legs, nestle yourself between them. “If you’re a good girl and do exactly what I say, maybe I’ll take them off.”

Her eyes flash. She goes quiet, stops struggling against the binds. You press a gentle kiss to her lips.

“Can you do that?” You ask, “Can you be good for me?”

She likes that, you note. She relaxes slightly, presses up into your kiss.

You kiss her, slow. Trail your hands down her body. Press warm kisses down her body, drag your lips down her stomach. It wasn’t often you got to do this, worship her. You take your time, kissing her hips, the tops of her thighs, tasting the sweet salt of her skin.

By the time you reach her center, she’s drizzling arousal onto the mattress.

“Don’t tease.” She’s looking down at you. Pulling hard against her restraints. “Please, baby.”

“Hmm.” You press a kiss to her thigh. “Orgasms are for good girls. But you haven’t been a good girl tonight, have you, darling?”

She furrows her eyebrows. Tries to squeeze her legs tighter around you.

“I told you not to touch and you did.” You sigh, “I even had to tie you up.” You press a heavy kiss to her hip. She’s tugging a little too hard at her restraints, now, desperate to free herself. You grip her thighs, hold her in place.

“Stop it.” You say, voice hard. She blinks, stops struggling.

“See?” You say, “Bad girl. You can’t help it, can you?”

“I just want to touch you.” She says. Her voice is gravelly, low. Not quite pleading. But close.

You take pity on her, press a gentle kiss to the top of her public bone. Her breath hitches.

“I know.” You murmur against her skin, “But it’s my turn, baby.”

You dip down, press your lips to her velvet folds. Her taste, her smell makes you salivate. You smooth your tongue through her, taking as much of it as you can into your mouth. Tara gasps beneath you as you begin your assault.

It’s so nice to eat her pussy uninterrupted. Without her trying to tug you back up to kiss you, without her greedy hands reaching for you, always searching for more.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like receiving pleasure, it was just that she desired your pleasure more than her own. She had this compulsion to please you. If you had your fingers inside her, she’d slip hers into you too. If you wanted to go down on her, she’d insist you sit on her face. Sometimes she’d cum before you even got to touch her, turned on so much just from fucking you. It wasn’t fair. You wanted her as much as she wanted you.

Her body is tight, hips moving madly against your lips. She’s tugging on her restraints again.

“Baby.” You press a warm, lingering kiss to her inner thigh, “Relax.”

“Come up here.” She says. There’s no control in her voice anymore. She’s needy, desperate, “Come sit on my face. Let me taste you.”

“Soon, sweetheart.” You murmur. You rub the outside of her thighs, trying to give her some comfort. “Right now I want to make you feel good.”

You dart your tongue back out, lap gently at her. Syrupy sweetness oozes onto your tongue, you lick it up, greedy. You swirl your tongue in circles around her clit, gripping onto her thighs, trying to pull her even closer. She’s tilting her hips up to meet your mouth, breathless little moans slipping from her lips the way they always did when she was close.

You lift your fingers to slip into her, hum against her clit as you feel her wet heat encompass you whole. You curl your fingers, tongue swirling madly around her as her legs clench around your head. Drive your fingers hard into her. She’s earned it now, you think as you suck gently on her clit. Such a good girl, letting you tie her up and fuck her. She deserves a reward. You tell her so. Press a final kiss to her thigh before you take her to the edge, sucking and licking and fucking her into her orgasm.

She lets out a long, quiet moan, her entire body seizing as she cums in your mouth. You groan, her thighs pressed tight around your ears, her arousal dripping past your lips and onto your chin. You can feel her tight cunt throbbing around you, heartbeat steady as she pants, trying to recover her breath.

You press one more kiss to her. Untangle yourself from her legs.

You climb up her body, press a wanting kiss to her swollen lips.

“Good girl.” You mumble into her lips, “Thank you, baby.”

She’s slack against you, body still thrumming from her orgasm. You tuck yourself against her body, rest your head on her chest.

“Untie me.” She says, not even seconds later, “Please.”

You reach for the scarf, fumble for a moment before you tug it off her. Her wrists are red, chaffed from all her struggling. Before you can even toss the scarf aside, her hands are on you trying to pull you closer. She sighs against your lips, like everything is suddenly right in the world.

You close your eyes, kiss her, not even realizing how much you’d missed her hands on you. Before you can enjoy the moment, she’s flipping you over, pinning you down into the mattress. You gasp. She hovers above you, her thigh between your legs. She’s gripping your hands over your head, looping the scarf around your wrists.

“You had your fun.” Tara murmurs, eyes glinting with mischief, “Now it’s my turn.”

Next part

#ghostface!tara #scream #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #mine #ah

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drei-mrssvechii · 3 months

Text

have you ever been ice skating? | mat barzal

join my taglist!

pairing: mat barzal x reader

warnings: kids, mentions of falling down

word count: 582

a/n: so it's been a while since i wrote something and i came up with this at midnight so hope u enjoy it! be kind, always open to feedback, requests, etc, etc.

Your husband, Mat, was a professional hockey player, which meant he spent a lot of his time on the ice; and your son, Eli definitely got the skating skills from him, because you had never been ice skating. You’d usually watch from the tv or the stands but never tried it.

However, Eli had asked to go skating a million times, begging for you to come this time and there was no way you could say no to his cute pouty face and looking at you with those hazel eyes, so you ended up agreeing.

While Mat was tying your skates, your son was jumping all over the place, waiting for his dad to finish. Once you were ready he was the first to step onto the ice and as he began to skate across the ice without any guidance, panic set in and the sudden urge to back off crashed at you.

“I don’t think I can do this” you said, eyes wide open and feet wobbly.

“C’mon babe, of course you can. Best teacher on Long Island here, eh?” Mat assured you and left a quick kiss on your lips.

“Mom!! You watching me? Come in, it’s gonna be fun!” You nervously laughed and trying not to think much about it, you took two deep breaths and left all worries behind.

“Ok, I can do it, I definitely can.” You kept repeating the mantra as Mat stepped onto the ice first, his hands never leaving yours. “Let’s get it over with”

Then he helped you onto the ice and when your legs wanted to give out on the slippery surface, his grip on your body tightened. Just like that, he started guiding you through a few laps around the rink.

Little by little you were getting the hang of it until Mat let go of your hands and skated away.

“Let’s try on your own. Skate to me” You took a hesitant first stride, Mat’s advice playing in the background.

Confidence is key. Take a deep breath, look up, and focus on balance.

You reached Mat in no time, with a huge smile on his face, he placed his hands on your waist and spun you around excitedly.

“See? It’s not that hard.”

“What can I say? I have such a great coach.” You joke with a huge grin on your face. Maybe skating wasn’t that bad after all.

“Mom. Mom. Mom. Let's race!” You looked at Eli, not sure you could beat him in a race. At least you could stand without falling over but his little feet sure had more practice than you. But you’d do anything to see a smile on his face, so even though as soon as Mat shouted “Go!” Eli had already skated away at a great speed, you started off confident, at least you’d make it to the finish line in one piece.

Until you hit a bump on the ice, wide-eyed you instantly fell on your butt.

“Ouch. That one hurt.” You wailed as both boys skated to your side.

“Don’t worry” you laughed briefly “I’m fine but I’d be nice if you could help me up.”

“This whole ice skating thing? I don’t think it’s my thing” you spoke again.

“You’ll get some bruises but with some more practice you could go to the Olympics” Mat joked as he lightly chuckled.

“So funny, Barz. My feet actually hurt, can we go now?”

“Yeah, sure. Come on buddy, mama needs some rest.”

taglist: @fallinallincurls @barzyblogbabe @hockey-racing-fubol @beauvertime @ssebastianaho @stars-canucks @kailyn-writes @owenpowerstapejob @boeswhore @quietblues @barzyandhughesbaby @this-is-ally-and-im-confused @svechnikov3737 @honeygarfield @1-800-iluvhockey @cammieshockeyblog | join here!

#mat barzal #matthew barzal #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl writing #nhl #hockey fics #hockey fic #new york islanders #new york isles #islanders #ny islanders #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #hockey imagine

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itskattkm · 6 months

Text

Based on a request

Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader

Warnings: Christmas stuff, slight fluff, being nervous and shy as f*ck

A/N: Sorry for my bad writing, sorry for switching the perspectives :D I hope that the translation was at least good. Have fun. I tried my best.

When you’re home

Y/n sat on her armchair in her two-room apartment as she comfortably drank a ginger tea. When she took a sip of it, she slightly twisted her face and whispered "spicy." She smiled and looked out the window. It was snowing and the snow breathed the city of New York into a beautiful white. She ran over to the window and sat down on the window sill to watch the snow.

It was her first Christmas in New York. Before that, New York seemed to be a dream world for her. A world she only knew from movies. If her ten-year-old self could only see her now. She lived in a small overpriced apartment near her college. She studied (insert) and even had a girlfriend.

She was surprised herself. She could never have guessed how things would develop after she moved here. Y/N had a girlfriend. How strange.

As y/n continued to observe the falling snow, she had to think of Tara. What did Tara do right now ? She asked herself. She hadn't seen her girlfriend for a week because they were both busy with their exams. Now it was finally the weekend. For now, that meant that she could switch back and relax. No learning for now.

A flashing light attracted y/n attention. She looked to the left and could see how her neighbors opposite the house decorated their windows with fairy lights. "Oh shit," y/n said to herself. She had forgotten to buy and decoration for Christmas herself she totally forgot because of all the exam tasks, after all, tomorrow was already the first Advent. Y/N sighed and put her cup aside. This was her first Christmas alone. Without her family. Otherwise, her mother had made sure that everyone in the family came to decorate. She always bought the Christmas decorations.

Suddenly y/n cell phone rang. She looked over to the living room table and saw a picture of herself and Tara.

She answered and said shy "hey"

Tara laughed into the cell phone "y/n where are you? We're waiting"

Y/n looked confused out of the window

"What do you mean?" She asked laughing slight

Tara sighed slight

"Decorating. Christmas. You. Me. In... my apartment?" She said in a cute way

Y/n laughed and felt her heartbeat running faster "is this your way to ask me if I Wanne come over to decorate with you?"

Tara hesitated with the answer and grinned broadly when she said "maybe?"

Y/n grinned "wow who's the shy one now?"

Tara laughed "thin ice y/n... thin ice"

Y/n grinned wider and felt the heat in her cheeks. Normally y/n was always the shy and nervous one of both, but there were those rarely sweet moments when it was exactly the other way around.

"Okay Fine..." said Tara and sounded like she was giving up "would you like to come over for decorating? Since it will be our first Christmas together?"

"But it's not Christmas yet" I said teasing

Tara sighed again but y/n could already see in front of her eyes how Tara smiled, her dimples came out and the slight blush appeared in her cheeks.

"My god do you two always need so much time to get to the point?" I heard Sam say on the other side of the line.

Suddenly the cell phone rushed at Tara's side and Sam said to Y/n "please come over y/n. We wanted to decorate the apartment and we had the idea to invite you"

I smiled broadly and nodded even though she couldn't see it.

"I'll be there in 20 minutes... Should I bring anything?" I asked out of intuition and looked through my apartment. Im such an idiot I have no decoration at all I thought.

"Yes, I had the idea that the three of us could eat something... meet Tara in the New Bodega store you can help her with the groceries," said Sam

"Okay, I'm on my way"

Both ended the phone call and y/n put on her coat and gloves. She packed her keys and left the apartment. Outside, she immediately hit a light gust of wind with thousands of snowflakes. She straightened her coat and made her way to the bodega. As it was getting more and more windy, she tried to hurry.

When she saw the lights of the bodega, she sighed with relief and ran across the street. She ran into the bodega and a warm wave hit her. She took a relaxed breath and looked around to find Tara. At that moment, a laugh also had to refrain. Tara was too small to be able to see her across the shelves. And just as this thought went through y/n head, Tara appeared in the next aisle and looked at her warningly "I know exactly what you just thought" she said and pointed her finger at y/n.

Y/n laughed nervously and was thrown off by Tara with a pack of napkins the next moment. Y/n just caught the pack and looked at Tara with a crooked head "Sorry...?" Said y/n shyly.

Tara's facial expressions became gentler and she smiled as she slowly approached y/n. She grabbed her coat and pulled y/n closer to kiss her.

Y/n closed her eyes for a brief moment and had felt a pleasant wave of goosebumps all over her body as Tara's gentle lips touched her.

"What will we cook later?" I asked Tara as we separated from each other.

Tara looked at the little note in her hand "Just some pasta. Nothing special. But on Christmas Eve... you'll get the best Mexican food you have ever eaten"

She said excitedly. Y/n sprays a pleasant warmth in her body when she nervously said "so I’m invited for Christmas?"

Tara smiled wide and moved closer to y/n

"Your my girlfriend... did you though I want to spend Christmas without you?"

Y/n shrugged her shoulders "Yes but... Sam... your family?"

Tara slowly put her arm around y/n waist and kissed her gently on the cheek as she whispered "your my family now..."

Tara detached herself from y/n and searched the shelves for the last ingredients. Y/n looked at her with admiring eyes as she still felt the kiss on her cheek and Tara's words repeated themselves in her head. If only Tara could know how important these words were for y/n. Y/n didn't even knew it herself until that moment. Y/n came out of her trance and followed Tara.

Finally arrived at Tara's and Sam's apartment. Y/n Smiled amazed it was the complete opposite of her apartment. It smelled like baked cookies and there was decoration everywhere. When she entered the living room of the carpenter sisters, it was felt with warm light and a large Christmas tree.

"Wow..." y/n said speechless and looked at the top of the tree that touched the ceiling.

"Sam had to exaggerate a bit with the tree" said Tara and laughed behind y/n.

"Yeah sure... at least we have a Christmas tree. Now let's get this started," said Sam, who came out of her room and pressed a box into y/n hands. Tara brought the groceries to the kitchen and I stood in the living room like a lost deer. I looked around nervously and didn't know where and how to start. My heart began to beat faster and faster and I looked around slightly panicked.

The next moment, Tara took the box from me. She smiled warmly at me "Take off your coat and then help me..."

I nodded silently and went back into the hallway where I hung up my jacket at the cloakroom. I took off my gloves and went nervously back to the living room.

I stood in front of the tree with my arms crossed and looked up to the top with a concentrated look. Since the tree was too big, the top was bent a little because of the ceiling.

"If I get scissors... I could try to cut off the tip. So that a star still fits on it," I said shyly to Tara.

Even before I could finish my sentence, Tara was already holding scissors in front of my face.

I laughed lightly and took it from her.

After I took one of the dining table chairs and climbed on it to get to the top better, I struggled with the scissors to cut through the wood of the tip.

"How's it going up there?" Tara asked and without looking I knew that she was just grinning. I sighed "if you want you can give it a try," I said in a sarcastic tone and looked down at her.

She stood there with her arms crossed and grinned dirty "no thanks. Im good. I like the view tho..."

I looked away nervously and couldn't resist a slight laugh. I immediately felt the heat in my ears and shortly afterwards in my whole face.

After a few seconds, I managed to cut off the tip. And then threw it at Tara with a grin as I got off the chair.

"Hey!" She called and threw the tip back.

I caught it and put it on the living room table.

"I have to admit... I feel a little overwhelmed," I said nervously and looked at the tree and the boxes with the decoration.

Tara hugged y/n from behind and put her head on her shoulder.

"Relax..." she said.

I sighed "relax? Decorating the tree was always stressful at home. No matter how I and my dad had decorated in, my mom then corrected everything afterwards," I said and laughed nervously.

Suddenly I felt Tara's lips on my neck and I got very stiff.

I felt a tingling at the point where her lips had touched me. My thoughts were empty and I began to perceive more the pressure of her arms around my body.

"It's okay..." she now whispered in my ear and I had goosebumps again.

I went to relax my body and let myself fall into Tara's embrace. She held me tight and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"Come on lovebirds..." said Sam and joined us in the living room.

Y/n blushed slightly again and started decorating the tree with the carpenter sisters. They began to tell each other their weirdest Christmas story's and made sure to not break any Christmas decoration.

When we finished decorating the tree, Sam and Tara began discussing about who could be the one to put the star on the top. I just kept grinning watching them discussing.

"Tara you don't even reach the top and I bought the tree" she said teasing and held the star up so Tara couldn't reach it.

I had to keep my laughing back so hard. I never thought Sam would really tease Tara because of her size.

"Oh really? Watch me!" Said Tara competitive and managed to get the star out of Sam's hands.

Tara walked towards y/n and said

"Pick me up"

"What?" I said and laughed.

Tara looked at me with a tilted head and a slight serious look.

I stopped laughing and nodded. I bent down and put my arms around her thighs and lifted her up the next moment.

Sam laughed "I can't believe it"

We laughed when I held tara up so she could reach the top.

"Everything okay up there?" I asked grinning after Tara still didn't manage to put the star on.

"Why don't you try?" She said slightly annoyed, but I heard a smile.

I grinned broadly and held her tighter.

"Im good... I like the view" I said teasing and looked up at her while her ass wasn't far away from my face.

Tara stopped in her move and looked down at y/n with a grin, before putting the star on top of the tree.

"Finally..." said Sam and left into the kitchen.

I breathed out and let Tara down careful.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek.

After decorating the rest and eating together it was already dark outside.

"Thank you for the invite..." I said shy and finished to clean the last dish from our dinner.

"You don't have to be y/n... you’re part of the family" said Sam with a warm smile and touched slight y/n’s shoulder as she left the kitchen.

Again I had that goosebump on my whole body. Family. I repeated in my head.

I turned around and leaned on the kitchen counter when Tara walked towards me and grabbed my hands and intertwined our fingers.

"You good?" She whispered and moved closer to y/n

"Yeah why?" I asked quite and looked into her dark welcoming and shining eyes.

Tara shrugged her shoulders and smiled shy

"You seemed to be a bit off..."

Y/n let go of Tara's hands and placed them on Tara's hips and pulled her closer in.

"I'm good..." I whispered with a slight smile.

Tara moved her hand slowly around y/n neck and moved even closer whispering "you stay the night?" Her lips brushed slight y/n’s.

Y/n blushed and grinned shyly.

"Only... if you help me next weekend to decorate my apartment cause I totally forgot about Christmas and have nothing for my apartment".

Tara smirked and kissed y/n deep before whispering "I'll take care of that".

One week passed. It was Friday evening y/n was lying on her couch in black joggers and a hoodie. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Y/n furrowed her brows and got up. Who could that be. She didn't had invited anyone. As soon as she opened the door she saw Tara, Mindy, Chad and Sam. Holding many shopping bags and boxes in their hands.

"Hello there!" Called out Mindy like y/n always did.

They walked past y/n and got into her apartment.

"Damn we got some work do to here" said Sam. While y/n looked confused after chad, Mindy and Sam. Tara was standing beside y/n with a wide grin.

"I told you I'll take care of that"

Y/n looked shy at Tara "thank you..." she said quite.

There was this spark in Tara's eyes again. She moved closer to y/n and held up suddenly a mistletoe.

Y/n blushed more and felt caught off guard.

Tara kept grinning "your so shy sometimes I love it" she whispered while grabbing y/n by her chin and kissing her deep.

Y/n felt herself melting away in Tara's hands. She felt the warmth of her hands on her face and her soft lips on hers.

She pulled Tara closer and kissed her back

After both stopped kissing, y/n rested her forehead on Tara's and whispered "you feel like home to me you know that right?"

Tara smiled and caressed y/n cheek

"I know..."

Y/n kissed her softly and pulled her arms around Tara "we're family now..."

#fanfiction #jenna ortega #wednesday #ghostface #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #samantha carpenter #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednsday addams #scream

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maximumkillshot · 7 months

Text

"I Can't Lose You" Part 4

Warnings: Not as bad as the last 2 but here we go! , Aftermath of a miscarriage, some fluff, descriptions of grief due to losing a baby, Crying Lixie, Hannie, and Binnie. Shock, Grief, slight panic, fear of abandonment.

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader

Characters: OC Doctor Number 2, Stray Kids, Reader

A/N: Okay so this one is different from the other three, we are in a sort of lull in the angst with this one. It's time to be in Bin's head for a bit. Let's just say... this is a "building" chapter. It's time for some fluff as well... IF YOU WANT MORE TELL ME!

Also remember, this is a fan fic. All of the boys are so sweet IRL.

Stray Kids! Masterlist

Overall Masterlist

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE.

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

PREVIOUSLY:

“And you? How’re you doing?” Bin asked. He knows Han has anxiety, seeing all of this and being as strong as he’s been is not easy.

“I’m… Out of all people, Bin.” Han shook his head. Han has known Chan the longest and he would’ve never expected him to do this.

“I know”

“Please tell me you didn’t hit him.” Han said.

“Nah… She needs me more than I need to beat him to a pulp… I don’t think he’ll be bothering her anymore though.” That’s at least what Bin hopes. Everything is so raw. A little less than 6 hours before this you were at a restaurant to celebrate your 3rd anniversary. Now everything was all wrong, a nightmare incarnate and no one can wake up from reality.

“Hyung… She can’t go back to that house.” Han said as he took a deep breath.

“I know. All I know is that we'll do what she’s comfortable with.”

“Agreed…Bin?” Han asked.

“Yeah?”

“It should’ve been you with her from the beginning.” Han looked to Bin, a look of understanding and empathy for Bin. Han could always see the way Bin looked at you when no one else was looking. Everything you said would be committed to his memory, even the smallest things like which brand of sesame oil you like best for your bulgogi marinade.

“I know. That doesn’t mean that I can’t be here for her from now on.”

Han just smiled and both of them went back into the room.

NOW:

Bin POV:

That night was terrible. Every 20 or so minutes, Y/N would twist and turn in pain as the contractions continued to decimate her. After about 5 agonizing hours, they started to subside, now a much duller version of what they once were, at least that’s what she tells me. Felix and Hannie were so strong through it all and helped in any way they could. Feeding her ice chips, holding her hand, even something as simple as massaging her legs helped a great deal. There were no questions, no arguments, and most of all no mention of Chris.

There were some points where she needed all of us. Hannie and I held one hand each, and Felix rubbed her back. When she finally went to bed, well more like collapsed from exhaustion, the sun was out and the clock read 7:00 a.m.

As soon as we were sure she was out cold, that was when we had permission to collapse. First was Felix. I noticed his eyes getting red as he looked at Hannie, and then back to me. "This isn't fair," he petted her leg and tucked her in, trying to comfort her, even though she was completely dead to the world. "She didn't deserve this… they didn't deserve this…" At this point, tears are falling on the blanket freely. All I could do was walk over to him and hug him. I moved us back a little and closed the privacy curtain so that if she did wake up, she couldn't see Lix like this. Felix did his best to cry silently.

He was trying so hard to mute himself as he whispered into my shoulder, "I didn't get to hold the baby, Hyung… we didn't get to spoil the baby, change the baby… look into their eyes, hear them giggle."

I know that feeling. I also wondered what the baby was going to look like. I would’ve bet the baby would’ve had her eyes. What if her quirks were another thing the baby would’ve inherited? Would they giggle at situational humor? Or maybe they would've had her sarcasm? That smile that’d light up a room? That used to light up a room.

I heard Han losing it behind me as well at what Felix was saying.

"S'not fair Hyung… deserved better…both of them did," Felix was doing everything to stay silent, even covering his mouth, trying to smother the sobs before they left his mouth.

"I know… I know" was all I could say. She deserved so much more. She deserved so much more than to be cheated on. She deserved more than to lose her child. She deserves to be pampered, kept safe, loved. The fact that life is this cruel, regardless of the person, that also hit me hard. All she ever wants to do is help. That’s it. So why is she getting punished like this? Why does she have to pay for the sins of her husband? What sense does that make? It doesn’t.

Han’s footsteps caught my attention. As he walked to us I could see in his eyes he was losing it too. His eyes brimming with tears. I could tell, he felt like I did. Helpless. Scared. Broken. He looked at Y/N as he walked towards us. Hannie seems like the type that would cry easily. He’s not. He really only cries when he’s angry, hurt, or frustrated. Otherwise he doesn’t cry in front of people. That’s why he doesn’t watch animated movies with me for the most part. He doesn’t want to cry in front of people. So seeing him like this…

I just opened my arms to him and he walked into them, huddling with Lix, his voice breaking, "There was so much blood, I can't…. She almost died because he was stupid and childish… a fucking coward… we almost lost her… our girl… Bin…" Hannie gripped into my hoodie, trying to ground himself. We always call Y/N our girl. Chris was always working, always distracted, always this or that. It’d take a toll on her. I would tell Chris to stop, to go home, spend time with her. I told him the tracks can wait, that she deserved to have him present for at least an hour or two. He’d always say that he could do ‘better things’ with his time. You’d think that he’d see his own wife as a person that he loves instead of a waste of time, that should’ve been the first red flag right there.

Eventually, Han and I just started leaving his ass at the studio, picking up some food and making a “friend date night” with Y/N. We’d pile up in Han’s room, we’d watch anime, horror movies, or sometimes, just be around her. The first time we did that was a year into the marriage, when we did, she started to tear up. When we asked why she said that she hadn’t seen Chris. Always asleep before he got home and always awake long after he left. Even thinking about it now gives me chills, how could he leave a gem like Y/N at home? Knowing she’s waiting for him. Seeing her face that night squeezed my heart. I could tell that day that Han felt the same way.

After that we always made sure to be home early every Friday and Saturday, and to clear the schedules for the most part on Sundays; Friday was movie night, Saturday was game or anime night, and Sunday was cooking date night, where we picked a recipe and made it together. Eventually Felix and Minho got in on it too, because what’s dinner without dessert and Minho said he wanted to make sure we were doing it correctly. Han and I knew the truth. We love spending time with her. It is that simple.

I felt Han and Lix’s tears soaking through my hoodie. I have never felt this helpless in my life. Y/N almost died in my arms, her baby is gone, Lix is mourning and sobbing on me, now Han is finally releasing some of what he’s feeling. All of these things I can’t control. I can’t help with any of it. The only thing that I can really do is be there for them. Even though, in my eyes, that isn’t a lot.

"I know we almost lost her… but she's here, you see? She's right here." I had them peek through the curtain to see her sleeping form and they both looked at her. "You know what else? A doctor told me that a pregnant woman carries some fetal cells & DNA even after they give birth." I said as both went back to gripping me again behind the curtain.

I continued, "That means that even though the baby didn't make it, that DNA still lives on in her." Just reiterating that fact, I even started crying. When the attending doctor told me that, Lix and Han were sleeping, while Y/N was in the bathroom, with one of the nurses. The doctor came in to check on her and they found me, on the verge of tears, trying to will them away. It was around 4am. The doctor is married to the same doctor that saved her life in the ER.

She was very kind with soft eyes. The doctor knocked on the bathroom door to notify the nurse to take as long as they needed. Then she turned her attention to me. They asked me to follow her and we went into a consolation room.

“The chart says you’re family… But family doesn’t cry like that.” The doctor said as we sat across from each other. “I’m here to listen. Y/N wasn’t the only one who went through a trauma today.”

I couldn’t hold it anymore as I started to sob. Something about the doctor's presence permitted that, “I should’ve protected her from him. Right after they got married he disappeared. He’s my best friend, well was my best friend …” After that I couldn’t stop. I told her how I felt about him, how I felt responsible for it all, how helpless I felt, how it all would’ve been different. I even told her what I almost did to him, how my brain can’t wrap around how she must be feeling, knowing it’d hurt too much. I didn’t leave out one detail as I sobbed.

She held my hand across the table, “You could’ve never predicted this. This is something that is unimaginable. You trusted him with her, and she’s your heart. That in and of itself takes courage, it shows that you truly love her. To put her happiness over everything else. There is a fact that I think is a small consolation, maybe it’ll bring you comfort…”That was when she told me the fact that I just told the boys.

"Binnie?" She asked and immediately I responded as my head snapped to the privacy curtain. I tried to keep my voice as steady as I could make it so that she didn’t get worried needlessly.

"Yes?" I asked as I let Han and Felix go.

"Can I have cuddles, please?" She asked. I immediately took off my hoodie, leaving me in my black sleeveless shirt, and went through the curtain. I saw her face relax when she saw me. It must’ve been scary after everything to wake up alone like that. I also saw her trying to shift in the bed to make room. I went to the other side to help her.

“Don’t worry, let me help you. I got you.” I cooed as I lifted her and helped her make room for me. Within seconds I got in the hospital bed with her.

"How could I say no to cuddles? Come here." I tried to be as gentle as possible with her as I cradled her. I could see in the way her body moves, it’s so sore. It was basically pushing fruitlessly for 5 hours straight after nearly bleeding to death. Her muscles had to be screaming every time she moved, that’s why I helped her do everything, from shifting and turning, to getting her in and out of bed. The only place she won’t let me go with her is the bathroom, which is completely understandable.

I heard her huff in frustration. When I looked at her she was glaring at her IV.

“What is it?” I asked, a little chuckle in my voice. I may or may not have an idea of what it is.

She grumbled, “IV won’t let me wrap around my Dwaekki.” She even crossed her arms as she stared at the offending object. She gets this pout. It’s so cute but she swears she is scary. It’s like seeing a puppy trying to intimidate a Bulldog. It’s not intimidating, it's cute. Even more so when she’s pouting at an inanimate object, if I’m lucky she’ll try bargaining with it.

I laughed at that, “How dare it.” I glared at it too, making her giggle a bit. I got up and repositioned the IV pole, bringing it to behind the bed, giving her more than enough room to move. I glared at it and I said “I don’t want any more trouble from you.” That earned a full on laugh. It wasn’t the same as its normal volume or anything, but it was still more progress. As soon as I laid back down her arm wrapped around me as she sighed with comfort.

She looked up at me and I looked down at her, studying her features. I’ve always cuddled with Y/N. It’s not uncommon for her head to be perched on my chest, but seeing her like this, after what she went through and still is going through is making me think. I’ve never seen anyone as strong, caring, and genuinely good as her.

Being with her is easy, it always has been. When I’m with her it all feels like breathing. She knows what type of person I am and I know what type of person she is. It’s like we balance each other perfectly. She likes comedy and romance movies, I like thriller and horror movies. She likes to learn languages. I hate learning languages, but she makes it fun. It’s like we push each other to be better. She fits perfectly. She molds perfectly to me, her hand fitting perfectly in mine. Every day I shoved all of this away, and every night I dreamed of her. I would hold on to those dreams so tightly. Some dreams are as simple as seeing her smile while I wrap my arms around her waist. Nothing sexual about it, just letting her know that I was behind her. Others we are just existing, laughing. The only real difference was me wearing a matching wedding band to hers. Those hurt. But only for a minute or two.

All of these thoughts are dangerous. That’s what I told myself for years now. The more I see her the more I see those thoughts, not as dangerous, but honest. All of the things that I think about her, it’s not a dramatized version of her. Everything I think is completely possible, how? Because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen her reaction to me and people around me.

Not to mention those eyes I get lost in constantly, the ones that are staring back at me right now. When she looks at me it feels like I am looking into a treasure trove. She is so full of knowledge, tenacity, and love. I could never understand how Chris could have her, and yet he looks to someone lower than her.

Her eyes look different now, inquisitive, making my eyebrows dip momentarily.

"Is it true?" She asked as I held her.

" Is what true?"I asked as I saw Felix and Han pull back the curtain, both a bit more put together. They were both walking to the only two chairs in the room, Felix to the one below the window and Han to the one right next to the bed, on Y/N’s side.

"The DNA? I have my baby's DNA," her voice cracked.

"Yes, it's true," I said as I kissed the crown of her head, "you will always have a piece of your baby with you."

She thought for a few minutes then she started to talk, very calm and very composed.

"I…I'm scared, Binnie." I saw her playing with my shirt. It’s one of those nervous habits she has. Whenever she is nervous, she’ll start playing with the nearest object. I’ve seen her fiddle with glasses, table cloths, and kitchenware. Her favorite is any clothes with texture. When I asked her why she told me that the patterns the stitching makes is just enough texture to help calm her. That is also why she prefers to wear anything with pockets in them, that way she can self soothe when her anxiety kicks up in public.

All of our ears perked up at that one sentence. We are all very much aware that she just went through a nightmare situation. For her to say that something scares her is something that all of us don’t take lightly. I noticed her body tensed up after that. Almost like her internal voice escaped without her permission. She also looked like she didn’t know where to look. Her eyes darted ever so slightly as she spoke. I tried to keep my tone as gentle as possible. I know her nerves are on edge, and honestly, I would’ve been surprised if that wasn't the case.

"Why are you scared? Of what?" I asked. I put my hand over hers to stop her movements, “you can tell me.”

"I can't lose you boys." She started tearing up as her voice started wavering, "I already lost my baby and my husband, I can't lose you guys too." At that point she buried her face in my chest as she shook, tears flowing down.

I thought that I had reached the limit of pieces my heart can break into and yet that one confession turned whatever was left into sand. "What?" I asked, "You think you're going to lose us? What gave you that idea?"

"Your leader is the same man that's been cheating on me. He's also your best friend.” She held me like I’d disappear, like I’d not only leave her side, but go willingly.

"Nonono, he was our best friend." Hannie said as he abandoned his chair, climbing into the bed with Y/N and me, sandwiching her in between us, as gently as possible. He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her.

Felix went to the foot of the bed and he said, "Chris didn't just hurt you. He hurt us by hurting you. We love you so much. For him to disrespect you like that…” Felix is usually a positive person, but his face looked like a cross between hurt, sad, and angry. “ For him to disrespect, humiliate, and degrade you like that? No friend of mine does that. You aren't a friend to me either, you feel like a sister. He hurt my sister, Y/N." His voice started to crack as he said, "he hurt my bubbly, funny, goofy, older sister who would also kill anyone that dared touch me… dare touch any of us. As far as I and everyone else on this team is concerned, he's a co-worker. Nothing more, nothing less." His brows were set at that last sentence, showing her we aren’t going anywhere.

She looked at us and said "I don't want to be the reason why things explode in your group. I don't want to cause trouble," She hid in my chest again, looking so small. I didn’t know how to comfort her in this. My heart just kept breaking and melting at the same time. Even though all of this just happened to her literally hours ago, she was still worried about us?

Han spoke up, "You didn't cause anything. You are doing what you have to do. The only person to blame for all of this is Chris, not you." He rubbed her arm as he spoke.

"Look up, you see Binnie?" He asked.

When she looked up she saw me. She nodded as she clutched onto me when I gave her a little smile.

"Look at your feet... You see Lixie?" He said, and sure enough, when she did Lix was right there. Rubbing her legs gently. She nodded.

"You feel me behind you?" Han completed. And she nodded.

"We are with you, right where we want to be. Hell, Felix ran just to catch Bin before he left, right?". I nodded.“Rain or shine, we are here for you always. Whatever you want to do. Wherever you want to go. We are here."

She started sobbing, clutching onto me as Han said, "We were never going to go anywhere… not without you, okay?"

I cut in with, "And if you don't know where to go or what to do, that's okay too… we'll figure it out together." I looked down at her and I started drying her tears as they fell.

"But what about?" She went to ask.. we all knew what she was talking about. Lix was already ahead of her on that. He dialed a number on his phone and put it on speaker.

A few rings later & someone picked up,

"Finally I was waiting for your call!" I heard Minho on the line.

Felix said, "Hey Hyung".

"How is she? We're all worried sick over here." Minho's voice was crystal clear.

Felix said, "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

I could tell she heard the joy in his voice, "Y/N/N?! Can you hear me, Beautiful?"

Felix laid the phone close to her.

"Y-yeah"

"How're you feeling, gorgeous?"

"Contractions stopped." I saw her wince a little at the mention. The doctors did say that it’ll be a few days until she feels marginally better.

"That's good, Lix was telling me you were in a lot of pain because of them… wish I was there with you." His voice fell a little at those words.

"I'm scared," she said blatantly to Minho. I could see just the thought weighing down on her mind. She seemed like she was trying to prepare for a whole other loss.

"Why, what is it?" He asked, his voice taking a softer approach to her now.

She couldn't say it so Han did, " She's afraid she's going to lose us, Hyung."

I added "She said she's already lost her baby and her husband. She can't take losing us too." I petted her hair back as she started to shake. I hated this, seeing her question everything since mostly everything was ripped out of her hands in the span of hours. Now she is trying to heal but she’s scared to rely on anyone, being vulnerable, all because the two people she trusted with everything were the same ones who stabbed her in the back. The anxiety rolling off of her was dizzying. I did my best to stay calm for her, I’m never leaving her. We aren’t leaving her, ever.

I heard Minho open a car door. "Y/N/N?" He asked as the door slammed.

"Y-yes?" She replied.

"I'm outside the hospital waiting with all the boys until visiting hours start." As soon as Minho said that there was a resounding "Hi Y/N/N!!" Through the phone.

"You will never lose us … Do you hear me?" Minho's voice sounded resolute and final.

“You promise?” She asked weeping, “Because I can’t lose you MinMin… I can’t lose my boys, m’not strong enough.” She pressed herself into me, trying to convince herself that we aren’t going anywhere. Han was rubbing her back while she cried, trying to keep his composure. Lix gave me a tissue for her and I started drying her tears.

I could hear Minho’s voice breaking, "Y/N/N-ie I promise. I want to hold you so bad right now. Just another half an hour. Okay? Then you can see us and we can see you and hug you and hold you… we missed you and we are so worried."

Then Hyunjin's voice rang out, thicker, like he himself started crying, "You deserve so much more than Chris could ever be. You hear me? You deserve to be pampered and cared for. Not taken for granted and lied to. We love you and we'll see you soon, okay?"

I.N piped up with "I can't wait to take you to lunch or dinner if you get out today! Where do you want to go?!"

That whimsical question seemed to make her relax a little as she said, "How about that Ramyeon place we always go to?" She asked,

"Ohh that's a great idea! I'm dying for some Nongshim Shin Ramyun." He sounded so happy.

That half an hour never went by quicker. They stood on the phone as they waited, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. As soon as the clock hit 8:30 am all I could hear was wind…

"We are running to you right now!" Minho said.

I could hear the occasional shove and giggle. A few minutes later there was a stampede of sneakers on the floor and as they walked in Minho said "In 3..2..1.." then he pulled the curtain back and hung up.

**********************************************************************

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strawberryspence · 1 year

Text

sit with you in the trenches

Steddie Week / Day 4: Hurt/Comfort ( @steddie-week )

Eddie paces around the small living room. All the lights are open, every single one. It’s the only thing that gives him comfort.

The television is murmuring softly in the background. The man is still going on and on about the names of the victims of the fire.

Eddie wrangles his hands, waiting to hear the worst news of his life.

“Hanes. Hanewood. Hawork.”

Eddie pulls on his hair, a breath of relief caught on his lungs.

No Harrington. Steve’s fine. He’s just late. A day late. His “stickler for a schedule” boyfriend has been missing for a day and Eddie can’t even do anything. Can’t do anything because if he does anything it would raise questions.

There’s a crunch of gravel outside that makes Eddie jump, immediately opening the trailer door. There it is. The beamer.

Eddie freezes on his spot, a sound in between a sob and a cheer escaping his mouth. He watches as Steve comes out of the car, but the side door also opens, and— who?— Eddie squints. Robin Buckley comes out.

“Hey, Eds.” Steve greets him, his voice cracks, as soon as the lights hit him. Eddie gasps.

Steve’s face is swollen. Swollen is saying it lightly. His left eye is swollen shut, his lips busted. He’s still wearing the damn Scoops Ahoy uniform.

“Oh my god, swe— Steve.” Eddie pulls the door open, but his eyes stray to Robin who’s glued beside his boyfriend’s side.

Steve pulls her closer, “Eddie, you know Robin, right?”

“Yes.” Eddie trails slowly.

“We were in the fire together and she didn’t want to leave my side. But then, I wanted to go see you.” Steve says, “She’s safe.”

Robin nods earnestly, “I am a lesbian.”

“Oh.” Eddie whispers, blinking before saying, “Oh. Come in, come in.”

He opens the door wider for the two of them. They both stumble inside the trailer like conjoined twins, falling immediately on the couch.

“What happened, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, though he is afraid to hear the answer.

“There was a fire.” Steve answers, “I saved Robin and a few other people. Hence… my face.”

He moves to get an ice pack for his face and blanket for Robin. Eddie doesn’t fully believe it, but it doesn’t really matter right now.

He’ll ask tomorrow and Steve will tell him the same thing. Eddie will learn the truth by himself, in a few more months, a floating cheerleader in front of him.

“Here,” Eddie sits beside him, putting the ice on his boyfriend’s eye, “Robin, do you need anything?”

Robin stares at him with owlish eyes. So different from the girl he had band practices with. He always had his inkling that she might be one of them, but he never thought he'd find out this way.

She shakes her head slowly, accepting the blanket and wrapping it around her arms, “No. This is good enough. Thank you for letting me stay."

They all sit in silence for what could’ve been hours, and Eddie doesn’t really believe in God, but he thanks some kind of deity for letting his boyfriend come home safely.

“I am sorry.” Steve breaks the silence a few minutes later, taking the ice off his eye.

“For what?”

“For being late. For making you worry.” Steve says. Eddie turns to Robin to check on her, but she’s dead asleep on Steve’s lap.

“Does she know we’re dating?” Eddie asks.

Steve smiles shyly, “Yeah. It was a big bonding moment. She thought I was talking about her, leading to her coming out to me and then I told her about my wonderful, metalhead boyfriend.”

Eddie smiles, brushing his hand through Steve’s hair as he lays on his side with a sigh of relief.

“You did good, baby. You just adopted your first lesbian.” Eddie jokes, making Steve crack a smile.

“Does anything hurt? Why didn’t you go to the hospital?” Eddie asks.

“No.” Steve says immediately, like he hates the prospect of going to the hospital, “I just— I just wanted— wanted to see you. I know if I went then you won’t be able to come.”

Eddie smiles fondly, “Alright, Stevie. Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you guys wake up.”

Steve hums in response, but he’s already drifting into sleep, falling deeper into Eddie’s arms.

Eddie kisses the crown of his head, pulling him closer to him. The relief of having Steve here beside him, safe and alive, is something he will never take for granted again.

Tomorrow, Eddie will shower him (and Robin) with love and care. But right now, he tightens his embrace around him and let’s the relief sweep him off his feet.

#That’s how Wayne finds his son and his boyfriend and a random girl all tucked and tangled in each other's arms sleeping peacefully.#steddieweek2023 #day 4: hurt/comfort #steddie pre-season 4 #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #dae writes #steddie angst #daeheadcanons

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ilovebuckers5 · 2 months

Text

.·:·.✧ Say No pt 4✧.·:·.

NIka Muhl x Fem!Reader

"I just wanted to be yours. can I be yours? can I be yours? just tell me I'm yours"

word count - 2.3k

themes:

-angst (if u squint)

-fluff

-smoking

A/N - this is kind of a filler but then again its not... I really liked writing this part tho 😋

august 5th 2023

My eyes stung the morning after. Not even the feelings of more tears helped because she wasn't here to wipe them away. As much as I wanted to wake up curled next to Nika, faced pressed against her chest. I wasn't. She was still in Paige's room. I kept trying to gaslight myself into thinking that she was down the hallway, waiting for me, but she wasn't. My eyes started to blink open to see a bunch of blankets piled up next to my face. I shoved the blankets out of the way and sat up, supporting my body weight with hands behind me. I gazed around my room looking for a sweater to put on. I finally stood up once I found a black hoodie with the UCONN logo on it. It took me forever to realize that I had slipped on Nika's sweatshirt. The first thing I noticed when I walked out of my room was a couple of the girls sitting in the lobby. On their phones, talking, doing whatever. I started looking around for Paige but before I could find the blonde, I found the brunette. Nika was sitting on the arm of a cushioned chair. Of course she decided to not sit on the actual part your ass should be on. I tried my best to look away but just the sight of her was refreshing after a night without her touch.

Her eyes were glued onto her phone that was being held by her left hand. Her right was hanging off to the side. I watched as her thumb gently spun one of her more loose rings around. I watched the way her heels was kicking against the soft material on the chair. I watched every little movement she made. And suddenly I was back at the beach. When even if she had sand in her finger nails and in her hair, she was still perfect to me and always is. Watching her silently took me back to the first night she stayed in my bed. She laid there so peacefully and all I could was watch her chest rise and fall with each breath she took. Arguments completely break me. Even if this isn't the end it feels like it. To know that there is a point in us that Nika didn't feel at peace when the thought of myself came to her mind. that is horrible to think of.

Before she could catch me admiring her, I moved my eyes to the front door when I heard KK, Ice, and Paige walk through the door holding Panda Express. Ice ran up to me holding a bag in front of me. "I couldn't remember your go to for the life of me and you were asleep so forgive me if I botched your order." She handed me a bag of food that was steaming. "No you're good I love anything from Panda." I grabbed onto the bag and sat down at one of the chair in the lobby. The smell of orange chicken and beef mixed with steam rose up to my face hitting my nose with heat. Luckily there was a table in front of me so I took out everything and set it down before throwing away the bag. When I stood up to walk to the trash can I was stopped by a strong hand holding onto my shoulder. I turned around to see Paige looking right at me "You're gonna talk to her today right? It's so insufferable to see you two not being all up on each other." I nodded silently as I was trying to forget what happened even happened. I came back to my food and noticed a bite of my rice was gone. I knew immediately that it was Ashlynn since when I looked up I saw her running away from my chair. I rolled my eyes and continued eating.

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august 11th 2023

"Did you get your shoes from my room?" Jana yelled out from across the hallway. "Yes we're good!" Today was the day that the team was headed back home. I had just finalized my packing plan and had my suitcases full to the brim. As much as I wanted to help Nika pack, she seemed like she was fully capable by herself. By the way, I did talk to her. At least I tried. In fact I tried multiple times. Each and every time I did, she either ignored me or brushed my words off.

august 5th 2023

I was back at my room now. Leftovers of my food were left in the mini fridge. I remember hearing some girls in the room next to me laughing loudly. Even though I wasn't into smoking or drinking, Nika's tipsy voice made it hard to resist. The book in my hand was almost glued to my bed once I heard her voice. I walked next door and knocked on the door while trying to think of an excuse to just be in the room. The door swung open to reveal Qadence standing in front of me. She had a soft smile on her face when she noticed it was me. Me and Qadence have always been close even if it doesn't show. Once the door was opened wide enough, I saw Nika's smile drop as we locked eyes. My heart dropped to my stomach just at the sight of her not being happy around me. Qadence let me into the room which I didn't expect. To be honest, I just went to the room to get some part of Nika's presence near mine. Qadence shut the door and sat down on the floor next to Paige and Amari. I looked around with confusion, not knowing what to do. The group of girls were clearly wanted me to sit down but the only place I could sit was of course right next to Nika. On a bed too. So I did. I mean its not like it would bother me, it's Nika who would be bothered by it. And Paige who would be amused. Azzi took a puff from her pen before handing it to what I thought would be me but was Nika. Azzi leaned over into Nika's ear and whispered what I'm guessing was something having to do with me. Nika took a hit then handed the pen to me without making any eye contact. It was excruciating to not kiss her right then and there in front of everyone.

"Alright. Take a hit or tell the truth. y/n, did you actually fuck Nika?" Clearly Paige was in a mood. My eyes widened at the very quick start to the night. I let out a sigh and handed the pen to Qadence before answering. "Yep." I tried to be as cold and blunt as possible to make it seem like I didn't give a shit, which I did. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out at how much I wanted to look into Nika's eyes to see if she was looking at me. Paige tilted her head to Azzi, indicating that she needed to ask the next question.

After a couple more questions thrown back and forth, I felt myself getting more dissociated and high. The next question was asked by Amari and it was something I did think she would ask. "I'm gonna break the rules a little here, this is for Nika and y/n. are y'all done?" the room went silent. My brain could barely think about what I was going to say so I silently left Nika to answer first. We still didn't make eye contact. The only thing I saw was her hands starting to fidget with each other. I held my breath until she spoke out. "Only if this one wants it to be." Nika tapped my shoulder shyly which sent a chill down my back. That when I noticed just how high she was because sober Nika would never be that bold after being asked a question like that. Nothing left my mouth but heavy breaths. I wanted to speak but no words were able to form on my tongue. All I could do was leave. So I stood up and rushed through the door and back to my room. This happened to be the second time that I had smoked ever so it was a bit rough when I was back in my bed. I couldn't even stand up so flipped myself over so that my face was in the pillow and all I did was cry. I got mascara all over my pillow but that didn't matter right now.

I want Nika back more than anything in the world. Before these couple days I couldn't even fathom the thought of being without her yet I still managed to fuck things up. Just because I wasn't careful? Fucking stupid. I cried for almost an hour nonstop before Azzi walked through my door. She sat herself on the ledge of my bed and gently rubbed my back as more tears fell out of my eyes and got soaked up by my pillow. The only reason I didn't answer the question was because I wanted Nika back so much that it felt like if I told her that, it would be stressful for her. I want what's best for her not for me. I probably sounded so stupid crying so hard over something like a month long relationship issue but it was as if I knew Nika for 20 years. Azzi sat there and rubbed my back for what felt like hours until I finally revealed my now even more reddened and puffy eyes. Azzi grabbed a tissue and wiped my cheeks and eyes of dark mascara. She pulled me into a long embrace which only made more tears flow out. "I don't want it to be over az." She held me close for a couple more seconds before pulling away to speak. "Then you have to do something so that she knows that."

I eventually built up the balls to stand up and approach Nika who was now running after KK who had taken her phone. KK stopped once she saw me walk out the door and head towards Nika direction. In fact, KK froze in place and just stared at me. "What?" Nika flailed her arms around until she turned around, then her hands rested at her sides. Finally for the first time in a month, we looked at each other. But this time we didn't just look at each other, we focused on each other. I felt the air in my lungs become trapped by the lump sitting at the top of my throat. I cleared my throat and broke the eye contact "Um, could I talk to you. Please." I felt the sense that Nika really didn't want to talk to me but she painfully nodded and followed me back into our hotel room. My hands gravitated to her wrists but she pulled away softer than I expected. "Nika. Can I tell you something?" Nika took her lip under her teeth and nodded. "I really love you. Like, a fucking lot." Nika hadn't even spoke and I felt a tear run down my cheek. "I would never in a million years- no in any years, want to hurt you." I looked behind Nika's eyes and felt nothing but hate with a hint of love in her head. Even if she didn't take me back in this moment I needed her to know that she meant everything to me. I would give up my life to spare her happiness.

august 11th 2023

I was loading everyone's bags into the car when I felt a hand wrap around my waist. Ok maybe not around my waist but a hand touched my waist. I look behind me to see Nika. She had tears ready to fall from her eyes. Things had eased out since the fifth but we still weren't back together. I still had the same love for her no matter what, that wouldn't change. Even though she never wanted to admit it, I could always tell when something was wrong with Nika. The sorrows of having to leave California forced me to try and comfort Nika even if that meant holding her in my arms without dating. No words were exchanged I just felt a couple tears slide down my skin that Nika's face was pressed against. My hand trailed across her back that was halfway exposed by the tube top she was wearing. The second she pulled her face out of my chest, I held her jaw with my hands and looked into her glossy eyes. "I'm...sorry." Her words were laced with even more sobs but that didn't matter. She didn't have to be sorry. Did it hurt being without her? Yes. But nothing changed the fact that it was me who did something wrong. She had every right to be mad at me. "Don't be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for." a couple more tears fell down her cheeks but I quickly stroked them away with the pad of my thumb. I thought she would pull away now but her hands wrapped around my waist before she slowly inched her lips onto mine. I kissed back and then felt her smile across my mouth. I missed her smile.

I pulled away to peek at her now dried eyes and glowing smile. I pressed my head against her forehead and pulled her close. We held onto each other until I looked up and saw a couple of the girls lurking through the window of the hotel lobby. "Alright everyone's staring at us..." A small laugh left Nika's mouth and just that alone warmed my heart even more. Nika left to go grab a couple more bags to put in the car. I admired from afar as Paige, Azzi, and KK basically congratulated her. I leaned my head back on the trunk door of the car and I couldn't help but bring a large smile on my lips. Now the car ride wouldn't be as painful as I predicted it to be.

#nika muhl #paige bueckers #lesbian #basketball #uconn wbb #uconhuskies #say no #nika muhl x reader #nika x reader

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