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dilfhos · 8 months

Text

THE FAN.

#!WHO GOJO SATORU & GETOU SUGURU

#!CC: threesome, reluctance if ya squint, o.sex (G&R), riding & backshots, eiffel tower, rockstar/band au, GOJO plays with your ass

wc.5.6k | KINKTOBER ‘23 | if u can, plz reblog. im trying to get more traction frankly and would love my fics to reach a wide audience fr. as always, minors plz don’t interact w/me.

NETWORKS @angelshub @bitchcraftinc @planetonet

@scariusaquarius tysm for beta-ing, your soundboard and squeals of excitement mean a whole lot sugar hehe ♡

Are you a fan of the band EYES OF DEATH? Well they’re in town for Halloween! Ten songs! One night with Hunk Gojo as lead singer and the illustrious Suguru playing lead bass. Come down to the Shadowvale Coliseum to see them in action, you may be lucky to win backstage access!

“After all, you’re our biggest fan, yeah?” Suguru asked, a smile on his face as his palm tapped your cheek affectionately.

The sound of screaming coming from (mostly) women caused a ringing in your ears. But it wasn’t much of an inconvenience because you were screaming right along with them. Your eyes zeroed in on the lead, heart stammering at the fact that you were actually here, in person before your favorite band. Your favorite idol.

Gojo Satoru.

This time you didn’t have to gush over him in the new issue of Kaisen Times magazine, or smile when you see the million posters hanging up in the walls of your bedroom. He was literally feet from you as you were blessed to have stage side seats. He was definitely sexier up close. His messy white locks whipped with every nod of his head, as his slightly sweaty face was mostly framed by stray strands of silver.

You wish you could see his eyes but they were hidden by his signature frames which didn’t make you feel too bad. You watched as his hand came down hard to deliver one final riff. The crowd went wild as did you. He rocked back on his heels, a genuine wide smile gracing his features as he scanned his fans. When he turned in your direction, you could've sworn he was looking directly at you as his gaze seemed to remain on you for a few seconds longer. While you thought it was silly, a part of you hoped he was and your heart sped up at the thought.

His smile seemed to almost widen though as he then gripped the mic.

“How about another one? Why don’t you let me hear your lovely voices one more time?” He cupped a hand to his ear, nodding as the crowd, you included, began to scream again.

“That’s what I like to hear!” He turned back to his band mates, whispering to the one closest to him which you immediately recognized as Suguru. His dark and typically flowing locks were tied back into a messy bun, a few pieces slicking to the sides of his neck. He muttered something back to the other band mates and Gojo returned to the microphone, his mouth open in a wide smile,

“You ready?” He purred.

Everyone screamed yes! and as he counted off, the building was drowned once more in an electrifying riff of another one of his songs.

…

By the end of his concert, his shirt was drenched with sweat as he spent the rest of his energy jumping around on stage.

As he bid a goodbye to the crowd, you met his gaze. Or so you thought. You just knew he looked in your direction once more before whispering something to his bandmate, Suguru, who gave you a quick look over before disappearing behind the curtain.

You remained there, looking at the very spot he stood, wishing that he was still there. You clutched a rolled up paper to your chest, your grip tightening when someone bumped into you from behind.

It was silly but you had hoped you would’ve caught him before he left to sign it. Sure the image was a couple years old but it was your favorite and with his scribbled signature in the corner of it, you knew it’d finally be perfect.

But what you also knew was how wild his concerts ended. Groupies typically tried to sneak their way back only to be stopped by heightened security. You’ve heard rumors of some succeeding and bragging that Gojo and the band definitely made their nights.

With a sigh, you turned, watching the crowd slowly grow smaller as sweaty and exhausted bodies trickled out the exits. A headache was forming and even though you didn’t get your autograph, you were still content with seeing your favorite rock idol perform. But now, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep. Maybe encounter him in your dreams as you’d done in the past.

You were trudging along with the crowd when you heard a low, ‘psst’.

You wouldn’t have paid much attention to it if it had only happened once. But when it was heard again, this time a bit more persistent, you whipped your head around only to be met with nameless faces of the crowd.

But then you heard, “Here.”

Off to the side was a man in a black leather jacket with a cap on his head. You wanted to ignore him and keep following the crowd to the exits but something about his demeanor seemed familiar. You hesitantly broke away from the horde and ducked off to the side, accidentally tripping into his chest.

“Careful darlin’” You gasped softly at his voice, recognizing it to sound like…

The man pulled you further onto the side wing, and away from the crowd until reaching a corridor. He pulled his hat back, allowing raven locks to fall around his face.

“M-Mister Suguru?”

“Getou,”He glanced down at your arms crossed over your chest, holding something rolled. He glanced back up at your face which was lit up almost innocently at the fact that you were standing in front of a member of your favorite band. He smirked. How cute.

“Poster?” He asked, turning on his heels sharply. He didn’t give a warning or any explanation, he just began walking down the hallway, silently expecting you to follow. You stuttered before your feet moved, trying to catch up to his brisk pace.

“U-Uh yeah...I um…I wanted Gojo’s autograph.”

“And not mine?” He turned his head, a smile playing loosely at his lips. His gaze made you avert yours as your face swarmed with heat. You were mainly focused on the fact that you were actually inches from him, following him and talking to him. He wasn’t Gojo Satoru sure, but Getou Suguru was just as great a musician. And an even sexier man.

You passed by a few other band members and technician crew and a part of you felt a bit nervous.

“A-Are you sure I should be back here?” You asked him after a moment of silence. He only shoved his hands into his pocket without acknowledging your question as he continued to make his way down the darkening hallway. Something about this felt a bit off but you didn’t give into your trepidation. Instead you continued to trudge nervously behind him. Still, you placed your hand into your coat pocket to feel for your phone.

After another moment or so, he rounded a corner until stopping in front of the door at the end of the hall. From behind him, you could see the name, GOJO SATORU & EYES OF DEATH ☆ in bold, white script, centered in the middle of a large star. Your stomach flipped as you read his name over and over again. Was this actually real?

“You want to meet him right?” He could practically hear you nodding excitedly before sighing. A soft rap from a knuckles later and you heard Gojo’s voice from the other end asking who it was.

“Getou,” Was what he responded with before turning the door knob. He stepped back and gestured for you to enter, and you did so, your eyes remaining on your boot clad feet. After hearing the door shut behind you however, the sound sealing you into your fate, you looked up.

The first thing you noticed was the man sitting across the room, cross-legged on the floor. In his arms was a guitar, not the bass he rocked to during the concert. Slender fingers strummed against the strings, the notes melancholic and unfamiliar. The tune carried throughout the space accompanying the soft humming you heard from him.

Gojo glanced up only briefly, a smirk on his features as you nervously made your way further into the large dressing room. He let out a few more notes, this time save for his humming.

“Erm…” You glanced back toward Suguru. What were you supposed to do? Or say? Your mind ran a mile a minute contemplating what your next choice of words would be. You couldn’t believe that you were here standing in the very dressing room of your rock idol, the Gojo Satoru and you didn't want to screw up your first impression with something stupid.

You heard shuffling from in front of you and turned to see that he was standing. Placing the guitar against the wall, he then stretched, the position drawing up his t-shirt in the process. You couldn’t keep your eyes from falling to the distinctive toning of his waist and abdomen as they flashed before you. After you heard a chuckle, you looked away, hoping that he didn’t catch your staring.

“You a fan?” His voice was like velvet, soft and alluring and even more sexier than it was when he was singing on stage. A wide smile followed his question, drawing your attention to the dazzling rows of pearly whites. A few seconds later is when you collected yourself, eyes roaming back up to his that were hidden behind his shades.

“Y-Yeah,” You start carefully, heart strumming wildly in your chest.

“A-A big fan actually! I’ve been a fan for years and have come to every single concert.” Okay, so maybe you didn’t need to disclose that last part. Gojo only smiled warmly.

“Oh yeah? And what’s your favorite track?” He leaned down in front of the vanity, inspecting something on his face. You took a moment to mentally dig through what you knew of his discography. He had plenty of amazing songs, all of which touched you one way or another.

“I would have to say...Blindfolds,” He let out a surprised noise as he turned to look at you. He was quite surprised by your response. He felt that track wasn’t his best after it was published and honestly, paid no further worry about it.

He expected you to favorite one of his more popular tracks, one of which he always heard his fans request that he sing.

Under his scrutinizing gaze, you felt heat prickling at your skin.

“I-I just really like the way it speaks to me. And your use of the clever metaphors within the lyrics give it a much greater meaning than what it was meant to be. And even though it was made clear that the song was about everyone in a way, I couldn't help but wonder whether or not…” He cocked his head, hidden, blue eyes glinting as he nodded for you to go on.

“W-Whether or not if it was really about you.” Silence enveloped the space and every second you remained under it, nervousness crept in bit by bit. Perhaps you said too much. Here was one of the top rock stars standing in front of you, listening as you picked apart one of his songs.

“I-I’m sorry if I over-” He interrupted you with laughter. It wasn’t cruel or mocking, but genuine. And coming from him, it was music to your heated ears. He moved toward you, his sudden movement causing you to stagger back some.

“Look kid, I appreciate your dedication but I think you’re reading too much into it,” He gave a small friendly ruffle to the top of your head, and you bit back a squeal. He touched you.

“She’s real cute,” He remarked behind you, toward the other man, who you honestly forgot was even still here.

“I knew you’d think so. But how about we move things along? The manager has been calling my phone like crazy wondering where you’ve run off to this time.”

“Right,” He turned back towards you, a toothy grin present on his features. His eyes then ventured down to what you were still cradling in your arms.

“What’s this?” He pointed. You glanced down at the rolled poster, your face warming immediately.

“I had wanted an autograph,” You stuttered, voice barely audible.

“S‘at so?” You nodded. He held his hand out and you hesitantly placed it. You watched as he unrolled it and the way his brows shut up in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” You were quick to question, craning your neck to what he was seeing. Oh God, did you spill something on it? Did you accidentally grab the wrong poster from your wall? Like the one with old childish writing on it with, My husband! If that was the case then you weren’t sure what you’d-

“Just surprised is all. This was actually my favorite photoshoot. Guru, you remember that one?” He turned the poster around so his friend could see. Suguru chuckled at the sight, a part of him thinking that it was only his favorite because he ended up seducing the photographer. Gojo turned, moving back to his vanity. From the plethora of makeup brushes, his fingers closed around a dark sharpie. You couldn’t see what he was scribbling as you craned your neck, but it sounded like more than just his name. With a smile, he recapped the marker and held the poster out as if to admire his penmanship and rolled it back up.

He then held it out to you and right when you were about to grab it, he pulled it away.

“You know, you’re real cute,” He muttered, a finger reaching under your chin. “And you’re my biggest fan, you said?”

He was so close, so much that you could smell the subtleness of mint and beer. You were immediately drawn in, your eyes fluttering down to the sight of his kissable lips, which were parted slightly. He nudged your chin up to refocus your attention. What was the question again?

“Y-Yes?”

“You don’t sound so sure.” He teased.

“Yes, I’m your biggest fan.” You whisper. Sitting down your rolled poster, he took off his shades, revealing a pair of lustfully blown blue eyes. Brighter than any lake during sunrise. You could get lost in them forever and it was no longer a surprise why he wore his shades all the time.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his heavy gaze, which was just as well because before you could register anything, his lips were on yours, soft and tentative. It took you a second before you began to move your lips in sync with his.

He groaned against your mouth, deepening the exchange with a suggestive swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip. Parting your lips, his tongue shoved through, wild as it thrashed against your own.

Gojo explored your mouth, taking in the way you practically melted against him. He began to walk you backwards until your knees met the back of the couch. He pulled away to watch you stumble onto its surface, panting and flustered from the kiss.

He straightened to shrug out his coat before leaning back down to recapture your lips in another heated embrace. His hands trailed down your body, paying attention to where to press and grope that caused you to whimper. He loved the sound. The sweet, sweet gasps of women beneath his touch could top any riff he played.

Eventually, his lips moved away to press open mouth kisses to the side of your jaw and neck, every now and then sucking marks into your skin. His hand pushed under your shirt, dragging the garment oup in the process until he broke away to pull it off you.

“You’re so fucking hot babe,” He muttered, cerulean eyes trailed over your body, over the hot and bothered state you were in. Gojo’s hands smoothed over your neck, trailing down to your bra-covered breasts, until stopping at the hem of your skirt. You nodded before he shoved them up your waist, hips lifting up slightly for him push them up further until it was bunched around your tummy to reveal your cute panties. He looked down, grinning at the sight of the cotton material pressed snugly against your crotch.

“Cute,” He murmured. Instinctively, you tried closing your legs, bashful at his heavy gaze and comment but he shifted down until he was on his knees, in between them.

“No need to be shy,” His voice was so compelling; you slowly relaxed, your eyes never leaving his as Gojo’s fingers curled into the waistband of your panties. Your legs tightened against each other but with an almost warning glance cast upward from his eyes, they relaxed and he proceeded to slide them down with more ease.

“That’s it. So fucking beautiful…” He tugged them against your ankles, before they were placed on the small coffee table. He moved his eyes down to the sight in between your legs, inspecting the glisten coating your puffy lips.

Seconds later, you arched your back at the sensation of his hot tongue pressing flat against your slit, as he dragged the surface of it up and down in slow and deliberate movements. He kept a firm grip on your hips as he delved in deeper, maneuvering the appendage past your slick folds and into your hole, flicking and dipping between your plush walls. His fingers then replace his tongue, curling and stretching against your insides. His lips moved to your clit where he suckled and nipped gently, drawing out a unintentionally loud moan from you.

His fingers sped up, creating a wet squelch with every thrust into your cunt. Gasping, your fingers dug into the material of the couch as you found yourself getting lost in the pleasure he created.

Suguru, seeming to have come from nowhere, then moved beside you, gripping your chin to lift your head up in his direction. Despite your hesitance, he managed to press his lips against yours roughly. After a moment you began to give in, allowing his feverish tongue to slip past your lips and into your mouth, the exchange heated between lips and teeth. He grew harder in his pants to the feel of your lips and at the sound of his friend slurping away at your cunt.

A hand crept down to your clit, taking the place of Gojo’s fingers as he began to press tight circles against the area. Your hips bucked off of the couch and against Gojo’s face, smothering him against your pussy. He released a prolonged groan at the sight of the exchange happening between you and the two men.

Pulling away, the male licked away a trail of saliva from your lips before dipping a bit lower to lick and suck against your neck.

“Suguru,” You whimpered.

“Getou,” He corrected against your skin, trailing his lips down to your breasts. His calloused hands roughly kneaded each mound. His teeth teased at your nipples, grinding gently on the hardening buds before tugging softly to release with a soft pop. Just as he pulled away, a ringing sounded throughout the space.

“Dammit,” He muttered, bringing out his phone. Gojo pulled away from your pussy, his mouth soaked in your juices as he looked up at the brunette.

‘Manager’ He mouthed, moving towards the door.

“What? Yes…” The door shut behind him, leaving you and the lead singer alone in the dressing room.

He stood, pulling off his shirt, your eyes immediately dropping to his skin. You watched with rapt focus as he then plopped down a foot or so away from you.

“Come over here,” He instructed, throwing his arms across the back of the couch. You moved closer to him, your pussy clenching in need.

Slender fingers wrapped against the nape of your neck pulling you closer toward him. His lips smashed against yours, as he wasted no time in shoving his tongue past your lips. A moan was muffled from your mouth as his grip tightened in your hair to pull you closer, the taste of your essence melting on your tongue.

He pulled away to give another soft tug at your roots, urging your head up at an angle. His lips lowered to bite and suckle marks into your skin, partly in hope to cover his friend’s. When he pulled away, his eyelids were heavy over his lust filled eyes as they ran over your face and down your body.

“You’re still my biggest fan?” A few beats passed before you nodded, eliciting a soft smile to form on his face. He then moved to undo his belt, shoving his dark jeans down to reveal his dark boxers. Through the material, you could see that he was very much excited.

“Show me then.” He urged, shifting into a more lax position with his legs spread wide open.

You swallowed thickly before partially positioning yourself over his lap, level with the prominent bulge. Your eyes the subtle trail of white that lined his abdomen and disappeared into his boxers.

With shaky hands, you moved to curl your fingers around the rim of them and pulled them down enough for his thick cock to spring free, hard and long as it kissed his abdomen. You could then feel his hand pressed up against the back of your head, urging you down toward his dick.

“Good. Now open your mouth.” He cooed. You did so, closing your eyes at what was to come.

“Wider,” He muttered, heatedly. It took a bit of effort as you felt the warmth of his cock moving past your lips. Your head lowered until the heaviness of his cock pressed against your tongue.

“Yeah, like that.” He sighed, hips hitching against your mouth. His dick was thick on your tongue and you could taste more and more saltiness melting on your tastebuds.

“Fuck, your teeth babe...Watch your teeth.” He groaned, nails digging into your scalp. You sputtered around his shaft, sending spittles of drool to drip from the corners of your mouth. Your jaw ached from the stretch as he continued to urge your head down and up against his cock. In the midst of it all, you heard the soft creak of the door opening and closing.

“I see you’ve gotten started already,” Suguru’s low hum broke the sound of your unadulterated slurping. You opened your eyes to see the dark pair of shoes a few feet away, unmoving.

“The—fuck—The manager?” Gojo asked, almost breathlessly.

“I got’er off our backs for at least an hour. Told her you wanted to rest.”

“Good. That bitch needs to learn patience anyway,” You released an unintentional moan at his harsh words, finding them to be almost uncharacteristic for the male. Your eyes closed again as you tried to focus on the task at hand as Gojo’s eyes narrowed, staring down at the sight below.

He then connected his gaze with his friend before a wide grin stretched across his face.

“She’s real good. Damn, it feels amazing.” Stomach fluttering, you moved your mouth down lower, taking another inch as you sucked in your cheeks to provide more of a suction. The change in your movements took the male by surprise because he released a strangled groan, in the process, shoving you down further, making you gag and choke around his girth. Sweat beaded along Gojo’s skin as you continued to suck him off, white strands of his hair sticking against the sides of his face.

From behind you, the feeling of the couch sinking with more weight didn’t go unnoticed. Seconds later you felt a warm hand brushing against your ass, running soothing circles against the flesh.

Suguru’s hands moved to creep to your waist, pulling away at the waistband of your skirt which was bunched around the area. You were now completely bare before both men and couldn’t help the pathetic sounding whimper that arose at the notion.

“What a good little fan. You know, you’re really doin’ me a service,” Satoru chuckled. In his words, you felt a sudden surge of validation course through you. The way he spoke to you caused a fluttering in your tummy.

At the end of the day it seemed like you just wanted to please him, your idol. When he said things about how good you were making him feel, well it caused something else to stir within you, flourishing before you could have the time to force it back.

Suguru noticed the way your thighs clenched together but it was different this time. His fingers sought out your warmth and was happy to find you practically dripping.

“I think she’s loving it,” You heard him purr as he continued to run his digits along your slit. You didn’t deny it but you wished that you hadn’t looked up into Gojo’s eyes.

He groaned at the look you gave him through your lashes. As much as he wanted this moment to last longer, he knew he needed to pull away before he busted in your mouth. He needed to save himself for the main event and that was having you crying and cumming all over his cock as he fucked you. You felt a tug on your hair as you were pulled away.

“Stand up.” You rose shakily to your feet, watching as Gojo shoved his boxers away completely as Suguru was next to you, discarding his own clothing wordlessly. Gojo shifted back onto the couch, a knee pressed onto one of the cushions and his other foot planted firmly on the floor.

“Here.” Without further protest, you moved in front of him on your hands and knees, your pussy aching for attention. Which you knew he was happy to give as you felt the swollen head of his cock teasing against your folds. His breath fanned your ear from behind as he continued to slick his cock between your lips.

You’re so wet, providing his still glistening cock with enough lubrication to push through with little resistance. You groaned at the stretch, nails digging crescents into your palm. He inched his way in, slow and deliberate for every vein to drag pleasurably against your walls. His grip on your hips tightened once he was fully seated, his pelvis flush against your plush ass.

He took a moment to gather himself before pulling out partly and thrusting in once more, ripping out a strangled cry from your throat. Tears brimmed your outer vision as he then thrusted back in, harsh and more rougher than before. His knee buckled a bit in the act causing him to lean against you as he found his ground once more.

“Fuck!” He gritted as his cock throbbed within your tightness. After a few more experimental strokes, he found his rhythm, as ironic as it seemed for the guy. He continued to grunt as his pelvis continued to slam against your ass, his cock plunging deep into your pussy. Your head lolled forward, your noises becoming louder as pleasure surged through your body.

You then feel fingers entangling in your roots as your head was tilted upwards to meet the dark eyes of Suguru. He was mere inches from you, his hand fisting languidly at his cock. His thumb swiped the bead of arousal that accumulated at the slit and you couldn’t keep yourself from licking your lips at the bothered state he seemed to be in.

“Do me a favor,” Gojo huffed from behind. Without further instruction, your mouth opened and Suguru moved forward, his cock breaching your lips to rest heavy on your tongue. You tried to work it along the length of his shaft as you bobbed your head along but with the rate of Gojo’s thrusts against you, it was a bit difficult.

Suguru noticed this and adjusted his body so that he also had a knee braced against the cushion. His hands moved to the sides of your head, stilling you as his hips surged forward in shallow movements.

“That’s it darlin,” He said softly, his eyes rolling slightly. “Be a good little fan and take it nice and deep.”

After trying to keep up some more, you eventually stilled completely— slack jawed, tongue lolled out, allowing the male to use your mouth as he pleased. Drool seeped down in thick strands at the corners as he continued to thrust into your wet hole, inching himself deeper and deeper.

You suddenly gag at the feel of a hand striking against your ass. Gojo watched as you arched your back at the sting it brought, a dark grin gracing his features as you tightened around him.

“Fuck...You like that?” Another blow was delivered as another wanton moan escaped you. His hands gripped both your ass cheeks, spreading them apart for a much clearer view of his slickened cock disappearing into your needy cunt. He eyed your tight, winking hole above that and ran his thumb along the rim, taking in the way your body practically rippled in excitement from the unfamiliar stimulation.

“I think you may be my favorite, love,” He mumbled more to himself. But you caught it and felt a new sense of pride in his words. You strained your ears for the way he sucked in his breath at your clenching walls until he leant down, hard chest pressed flush against your back.

“You like that? Being called my favorite?” You tried to nod your head the best you could with your mouth full.

“How about I bring you back after all my shows. You’ll be our little stress reliever, my little plaything I can use as I want. Fuck, I can tell you’re...Mmm, keen to the idea,” His hands pressed against your ass, spreading them apart once more as he thrusted in deeper inside of you.

You choked, pulling away from Suguru’s cock, mewling and completely overwhelmed with nothing but lust.

“After all, you’re our biggest fan, yeah?” Suguru asked, a smile on his face as his palm tapped your cheek affectionately. At his purring words, you shuddered and tightened, lowering your head to release a choked cry. Your orgasm came sudden and intense, completely overtaking your senses as your legs felt like pudding.

Gojo chuckled breathlessly, taking note of how sensitive you were to his words. He paused briefly to let you ride out your release until he pulled out. Giving a nod to his friend, he gave your ass a final smack, watching your skin ripple upon contact.

Without giving much time to catch your breath, you felt fingers in your hair, pulling your head up until your eyes met those dark pair.

“Get up.” Suguru mumbled. You shakily rose to your feet, your legs buckling seconds after. Thankfully, Gojo caught you with a tight grip on your arm, and an amused smile stretching across his face.

Suguru settled back against the couch, his hand running along his slick cock. He gestured at you with a spin of his finger and you turned around before feeling his hands on your hips to pull you flush against his body.

He positioned your body above his lap, his hands supporting you with the grip on your hips as your feet were planted on either side of his thighs. You leaned back against his chest, shuddering at the feel of his cock teasing your pussy. He pressed his lips against your shoulders feverishly as you were then lowered.

You mewled as he breached your entrance, stretching you with his girth. Suguru groaned as he took a moment basking in the feel of your fluttering walls throbbing around him. You began to sink down onto him, with little guidance of his hands, your moans growing in pitch.

“How is she?”

“So...tight and hot,” Suguru groaned, nails digging into the meat of your thighs as his heated gaze met Gojo’s. He directed your attention to the space in front of you with his hand stroking his dick.

Knowing what he wanted without further instructions, you wiggled forward to take his cock into your hot mouth, immediately hollowing your cheeks tight. His fingers grasped at your sweaty roots, tightening when you bobbed your head lower until your nose was nearly touching his pelvic bone.

Behind you, Suguru was beginning to lose his composure, his hips snapping up hastily against your ass, driving his cock deeper into your pussy. You moaned aloud, the noise being muffled by the press of Gojo’s cock down your throat. You were drowning in your pleasure as you were being pushed closer and closer to unraveling.

“Such a good little fan…” You squeal at his words the same time Suguru delivers a deep thrust into your cunt. Your eyes clenched shut as that coil within you snapped, sending your body aflame with heat and pleasure. He growled at your fluttering cunt, his hips stuttering as he approached his own high. You were nudged off of him before you felt the heat of his cum splattering against your ass.

“A-Ah…Fuck!” At the sight of this, Gojo was at his own limit, his hands shaky as he held your head down against him, the entirety of his cock in your hot mouth. He gave a few shallow thrusts until he stilled and you felt the spurt of warmth hitting the back of your throat. He held you there a couple seconds later as he rode out his high, making you swallow his cum.

When he shakily pulled away, you coughed as whatever you didn’t go down, dripped onto your chin and chest. You were a mess, but honestly, Gojo couldn’t find anything more beautiful.

He brushed his thumb over your sweaty cheek before he straightened. You shifted until you were next to Suguru, who pulled you against his side. Gojo returned with your rolled poster in hand and two beers in the other.

“How ‘bout you stay for a bit longer hm? You can tell the manager we’ll be a while for the moment.” You took your poster and unrolled it, eyes zeroing on the bottom corner which, in his neat script read, To My Biggest Fan, GOJO ☆

Beneath it was a phone number and you felt your face warmed. Looking up, you saw that he was holding out the beer to you and you took it.

Suguru beside you had a hand running teasing against your slick thighs as Gojo couldn’t keep his eyes off you as more and more of your beer disappeared.

You were blissfully aware of your senses easing slightly as you started to come to the conclusion that this was the best concert you’d gone to.

@dilfhos. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE OR REUPLOAD MY CONTENT—CURRENT OR ARCHIVAL.

#satoru gojo x reader #suguru getou x reader #gojo #getou #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk getou #jjk fanfic #band au #[ output—☆ ]#posting early🫡#oh god i hope this doesn’t sound too 1D-ish😭😭😂#i am thankful for the likes!!!!#but for the love of god reblog

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chodzacaparodia · 1 year

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Blue Lock is a true gift for all rivals to lovers trope enjoyers.

Everyone is the rival there. EVERYONE.

Are they on one team? That doesn't mean they've stopped being rivals.

Oh, are they friends? Don't worry, in the next chapter/episode, they'll be rivals.

And we, hopeless shippers, just let ourselves be killed by the tension between the characters.

And we endlessly dream of our rivals becoming lovers.

#thank God for the fanfics and fanarts that make my dreams of rivals becoming lovers come true #i love good tension between characters so much and blue lock gives me that in large does #nagireo #reonagi #bachisagi #rinsagi #kaisagi #kunigiri #reosagi #bachirin #ryusae #just every ship from blue lock #rivals to lovers #shipping dynamics #shipping #blue lock #bllk

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letloverule1111 · 4 months

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Substitute “fanfic” for “good book” and this is my life.

#fanfic

#thank god for fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfic rules #fanfic writing #rwrb fanfiction #rwrb fandom #starker #marvel mcu

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nehoteika · 1 year

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it's strange, knowing now who it was this whole time...

#stranger things #stranger things art #will byers #will byers fanart #byler #< target audience #obv <3 #my art #are we ready to talk about how reeeeealy creepy vecna/henry is targeting kids or has this been discussed already...#or huge ramifications him possessing and controlling will has had on will's mental health #i'm still pissed about the fact that duffers started to explore more about will's internal conflict at the beginning of the 3rd season #(him not being able to move on and grow up)#and then they JUST DROPPED IT LIKE WHAT THE FUCK #AND THEN THEY JUST oh the conflict is resolved everything is cool now :)))#thank god we have fanfics otherwise this show is unwatchable

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sugarpasteltmnt · 3 months

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I read all of tnv today and I am insane for it please take my offering (that only took me like 2 hours sorry I have a project I have a deadline for and I couldn’t sacrifice much more time)

RIP Donnie in the back doing the family guy pose i love it so much LOOOOOOOOL

ALSO!!! PLEASE DO YOUR ASSIGNMENT FANFICS CAN WAIT!!!

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maiverie · 1 year

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TRIAGE! ┊ a lee heeseung series — FINALE ♡

you try to teach the nerd how to date.

synopsis: heeseung is not, by any measure, date-able. he’s dorky, he’s nerdy, and he does this weird thing where he snorts loudly every time he laughs. in fact, he loves everything that normal people are allergic to — computer science, collecting rare comic books, and birdwatching on the weekend.

given that you two have obviously nothing in common, you find yourself utterly flabbergasted when you receive a letter in your locker, on which heeseung has written, "hi. will you please teach me how to date?"

MASTERLIST HERE !

kayla’s playlist (@/miiiwaa) ♡ my shitty og playlist . tags : #.*triage .

TAGLIST

@enhyflirt @dreamyenskz @icedcoffeesunwoo @ssolari @skazoo @jjunis @heejake-en @koroktsuya @jeongwins @tinykoi-s @en-boyz @soobin-chois @blessed-sky @jhyunieee @kisswon @vbxrin @cosmicsunghoon @bloomedberry @jungwonielove @miiiwaa @jungwoniee @lhsng @missharubear @deonuism @sarahxy537 @bambisgirl @hrrhmay-primaryblog @yeonzzun @msxflower @sunsunu @jangwonie @sweetjaemss @seungstarss @tokyoflies @solelyenha @softforqiankun @goodforgyu @va1ry @taekbokki @ashxxkook @moon-gyus @jakeified @markleeisdabestdrug @wccycc @viagumi @pisss111 @outrologist @fairfairee @hiqhkey @ctrlemis

chapter five (finale)

word count: 8k | navigation: previous / MASTERLIST warnings: swearing, (verbal) bullying a/n: final chapter; thank you so much for reading this far. sorry this took so long to get to you :(

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎

‘let’s have a little talk, you dweeb.’

heeseung had been backed into a corner.

while he often liked to reserve that idiom for metaphoric effect, he means it quite literally — ryujin and taehyun had literally backed him into a corner of a bedroom with no way out.

it was obvious he had stumbled across something he shouldn’t have.

ryujin and taehyun kissing? how disturbing.

if it were up to him, he truly wouldn’t have meddled in their business. however, the way they’re sneering at him leads him to believe that they think his actions were intentional. he wants to insist that no part of this was deliberate—that he was honestly just trying to find you—but tense silence circulates the trio and he has no inclination to speak first.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” ryujin punctuates the silence with her malice, making him inwardly wince. her hands find their way to her hips as she openly scowls with disdain. “god, you’re annoying.”

“i-i should go,” heeseung lowers his head, scratching the nape of his neck. “i didn’t mean to intrude,” he laughs nervously in an attempt to dispel their hostility, “i was just trying to find—”

“no, you should stay.” taehyun suggests, a smirk slithering to his lips. he rolls his head around his neck before sighing contently. “you should stay and play with us.”

play…?

heeseung physically recoils with horror, stomach twisting with unease. there’s something about taehyun’s predatory stare that flares goosebumps all the way across his arms. he realises that the most wise decision right now is to escape the enclosed space as soon as possible.

“sorry, i-i don’t want to keep my parents waiting,” he lies, lowering his head. “they’re downstairs.”

the two exchange impish glances.

“well, we won’t be long,” ryujin stifles a laugh before taking a seat on the bed. she folds one leg over the other, leaning back with her arms propped up. “since you were creeping on us, we thought you could exchange the favour and tell us all about your girlfriend.”

“girlfriend?” heeseung blinks. he doesn’t have a girlfr— oh.

miss sunset.

you? his… girlfriend?

as if.

“oh,” heeseung dips his head shyly. “n-no, you’re mistaken. she’s, um… she’s not my girlfriend.”

if he were being honest, he was kind of hoping to change that some day.

“what, so you guys haven’t fucked yet?” ryujin bats her lashes, a playful stare in her eyes.

heeseung’s brows instantly furrow, a frown on his lips. frankly, he was a little bugged by their vulgarity and the tone used to address you. this was the same type of contempt he noticed in other people in his life — like his aunt at her wedding, who pulled him aside and cautioned that ‘girls like that are foxes, heeseung! they’re nothing but trouble.’

it shouldn't matter, because they’re all wrong.

every single one of them.

they're wrong.

it boggles his mind that people can’t see what he sees.

then again, it can’t be helped that all the best things about you are what can’t be seen. sure, you’re so pretty that sometimes he can’t even meet your eyes properly, but you’re also warmer and kinder than you give yourself credit to be. you must not realise, but he notices the little things you do for him — like the way you clean his glasses when he places them down on the table to sleep; or the way you pretend you’re full so he can finish the rest of your lunch; or the way you scribble encouraging little notes and drawings on his textbooks when you know he has a long night of studying ahead of him.

it boggles his mind that some people may never have the privilege of peeking behind the curtain to see that you’re warm, and funny, and kind, and caring. you embody everything that his well-fitting nickname suggests. miss sunset — a blaze of colour; an explosion of soft yellows, bright oranges, fierce reds, pearly pinks and vibrant purples.

you’re a fiery kiss to the sky.

it’s both a shame and an honour that he’s able to keep you to himself.

“you know she likes you, right?” ryujin smirks, erecting from the bed.

heeseung’s eyes instantly round. “wh-what?”

“yeah,” she slowly slinks toward him. “she told me.”

“r-really?”

“duh. why wouldn’t she? we’re best friends,” ryujin scoffs, arms folded. “and i know her better than anyone. we’ve known each other since we were little kids, you know.”

heeseung notices that you don’t often talk about your relationship with ryujin and taehyun. you don’t really tell heeseung much about anything from your past, but he would certainly consider your old friendships to be the biggest elephant in the room. he doesn’t doubt that you were all once close friends, but he knows you haven’t been in contact with them for a while now. it’s obvious why, in his opinion — they’re mean-spirited people who enjoy sinking their claws into people and injecting poison.

they’re callous and vicious and hateful. they’re everything that you’re not.

‘best friends’? he felt insulted for you.

it was like trying to hold a candle to the sun.

“what… what was she like?” heeseung can’t help but ask, his stomach doing a little flip at the thought of you as a child. he knows he should probably leave the room, but the temptation runs too deep — he wants to consume everything about you.

what did your hair look like? what did your laugh sound like? did you prefer playing outside or staying inside? what made you smile during the day and what kept you up at night?

his heart began to thump at the thought of these answers before reluctance settled in.

was it wrong to wonder these many things about you?

was he allowed to be curious?

would that truly be okay — given that you were a goddess and he was next to nothing?

“cute,” ryujin replies, head bobbing. “she was cute.”

aha!

heeseung can’t help but smile profusely. “of course! i knew it,” he mumbles, blushing to himself. of course she was cute; beauty like that must have been obvious even at a young age.

ryujin’s razor-sharp stare remained. she seemed to study heeseung carefully before lowering her gaze. “she was also kind of mean, i guess,” she continued, inspecting her nails nonchalantly. “a bit of a bully.”

taehyun stifled a laugh at this, and they exchanged knowing glances as though they were indulging in an inside joke. “oh, yeah, i remember she once bullied that kid for sitting in her seat.”

bullied?

heeseung frowned, doubtful about their claims. he reminds himself that they’re both the type of people to embellish any story for their own entertainment. “you’re wrong,” he frowns. “she wouldn’t do something like that. sh-she’s not like you. she’s different.”

ryujin’s lips extend into a smile. “how well do you think you know her?”

his frown deepened. “better than you do.”

the pair instantly burst into cacophonous laughter that seems to poison the air in the room.

heeseung bites his bottom lip, feeling unease swirling around at the pit of his stomach.

“really?” ryujin defies him with a raised brow. “you really think you know her that well?”

he nods slowly.

“okay,” she tilts her head, “then where is she right now?”

heeseung’s eyes flicker to the ground. he didn’t know the answer to that question, but that wasn’t indicative of anything. “well, i-i don’t know, but… she’ll be back—”

“obviously, she ditched you. she left you, heeseung, it’s something we used to do a lot. we’d invite two or three suckers to a party, get them drunk as shit, and then make them entertain us for the next few hours.”

his eyes widened as he fell into momentary silence, forming as many rational justifications as he could. “but… i was the one who asked her to come with me. and… and you just told me that she… she likes me.”

ryujin rolled her eyes. “the only reason yuna invited you was because we thought it’d be funny. plus, don’t get me wrong — i’m sure she likes you, but don’t put any weight on that. it’s like how a person can like a helpless puppy. it’s pity; that’s all it is.”

“th-that doesn’t mean anything.” heeseung felt discomfort sprout inside his chest, branching insidiously in his lungs and up his throat. “that has nothing to do with her! she’s… she’s an angel.”

“really?” ryujin slithered over toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder, clenching it tightly to bring their faces close. “then why’d she tell us about that letter of yours?”

heeseung felt his heart drop to his feet. “wh-what?”

“the letter you left in her locker,” ryujin continued. “what did it say again? something like…” she pretended to brainstorm, tapping her chin with a finger. “oh! right… wasn’t it something like hi, will you please teach me how to date?” ryujin giggled as taehyun joined in snickering from behind.

his breathing quickened. the letter.

you told him you never told anyone about that.

did you lie?

maybe they’re bluffing — you wouldn’t do that. and even if you did lie, you would have definitely told heeseung afterward, right?

“the funniest part was the fact that you signed it off like the fucking virgin-loser you are. kind regards, lee heeseu—” they cackled again, this time even louder. they continued to banter with one another by echoing the contents of the letters.

heeseung felt himself shrink. hot tears burned his eyes as he felt their humiliation pile on and on as though they were determined in hammering him into the ground.

“oh my god,” ryujin laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “gee, thanks for tonight’s entertainment, heeseung,” she chuckles off the rest of her amusement, “i wish i took a photo of the letter or something. so that i could share it around with—”

“no!” heeseung cried as he swallowed the lump in his throat and began to enter a swivet of panic. “d-don’t! i-i—”

“you’re shaking like a leaf!” ryujin pouts, reaching to grab his shoulder before he flinches. “it’s okay. i won’t tell anyone. unlike your girlfriend, i know how to keep secrets,” she whistled. “say, heeseung… i’m keeping a lot of secrets these days, aren’t i?” she brushed his hair with her fingers.

“even yours.”

he stopped dead, chest rising up and down as he attempted to breathe. he tried to clear his tears with rapid blinking, but it only resulted in more tears replacing the previous ones.

“don’t worry. we’ve been nice. we haven’t told her your secret yet,” she winked.

yet?

“listen,” ryujin’s voice lowers, her finger lifting his chin so that he faces her. “i really don’t want to keep your parents waiting for too long, so i’ll say this: your girlfriend’s not a saint. she’s vicious in her own way. and if you hate us for the things we make you do, then you should hate her, too. why? because she and i are exactly the same — everything we’ve done to you, she’s done to someone else.”

“y-you’re… you’re wrong.” he turned away from her finger.

ryujin hummed once. “well, let’s face the facts.” her lips slowly lifted into a grin. “you’re alone right now, heeseung. she’s not even here. she left you. i saw her get in the car and leave just earlier. go ahead and look outside if you don’t believe me.”

heeseung’s gaze flickered to the ground.

“but anyway,” ryujin whirls around and exchanges a smile with taehyun. “we gotta go… we wouldn’t want to stay out too late since we have an early morning, right?” she smirks. “we’ll see you tomorrow, heeseung. at the police station.”

“wh-what? why?”

“because someone ratted us out,” taehyun chimes in, eyes rolling. “so we’ll keep your secret so long as you do one more favour for us.”

you can have your puzzle back. i don't want it anymore.

“you can have your puzzle back.” your little sun says, his voice lowering into a register so low that you almost miss it. “i don’t want it anymore.”

the room remained dark as heeseung’s words hung like ghosts in dead silence.

it was deafening, the way his whisper was the softest sound you’d ever heard. you were holding your breath, fearing a reality in which i don’t want it anymore meant something beyond what you could hear at face value.

“i don’t want your stupid gift,” he croaks, burying his face in his hands, stifling a sob. “j-just… please, just leave me alone.”

finding him sitting in the dark room alone and crying made your heart shatter. it was easy to confront the idea that ryujin or taehyun had hurt him, but you weren’t equipped to face the possibility that it might have been you. the distance he was creating between the two of you allowed your inner antagonisms to fester — your chest tightened with unease, exacerbated by the pressure of fear expanding within you.

“h-heeseung,” you blurted in surprise, your throat so parched that it forced you to swallow and brace yourself for what felt like impending heartbreak. “why…”

you were so stunned that it honestly felt as though time had stopped moving for a moment. you allowed space to pour between the two of you — you let a beat pass, then two, then three, then four, and with each one that scurried by, you grew more and more apprehensive that he wasn’t going to retrace his steps. you thought there was a chance he’d backpedal his words and tell you they’d sprung from his chest in the heat of the moment, but instead, he let you soak in abject misery.

your heart sank. above everything, you were terrified — he was slipping away from you like dust between your fingertips. it wasn’t long before tears followed — they blurred your vision, no matter how many times you’d tried to dismiss them with your hands.

“h-heeseung?” you called his name softly and hoped to peel his fingers away from his face, but he flinched at your touch. in every attempt you make in closing the distance, you find that heeseung draws a line between you; each harsher than the last. he recoils at your touch, shrivels at the sound of your voice, and offers you nothing but a view of his back that shields you away.

he was cowering from you.

it made you feel ill. sick. like the taste of bile was rising to your mouth and leaving an acidic, ghostly burn in your throat. bit by bit, your resolve was crumbling like a house of cards.

“tell me what’s wrong,” you begged him, crouching before him on the carpet though he curled away from you. “i promise i’ll fix it, okay? i’ll fix everything.”

“y-you can’t,” he sniffled.

you felt your throat constrict. “why not?”

“because…” heeseung finally lifted his head, and the moment your eyes locked with his bloodshot ones, it felt as though his fear, hurt, and pain ricocheted back to you tenfold and struck you like a stab to the heart. he sniffled again. “because you lied,” you saw his eyes well with tears again, “and i lied, and—” his voice became smaller. “all we do is lie to each other.”

perhaps this was what you’d always feared — that you were going to be the one to break him.

after all, you had a tendency to do precisely that. you can’t even count the number of times you’d accidentally shattered the dishes in the kitchen that your mother adored so dearly. or the number of bones you’d broken during wild dares from late nights. or the countless number of fractured friendships in your life because you never really struggled with breaking — whether they were dishes, or bones, or promises, or hearts.

was he another?

was heeseung just another one of those things you were always bound to break?

“please leave,” his voice was becoming softer, and softer, and softer, further eclipsed by his cries. you could tell he was struggling to make out his words. you could also tell that he was being honest.

you’ve never had anyone beg you like this before.

“okay,” you whisper, tears littering the carpet. “i’ll leave.”

unable to look at him any further, you twist on your heels. you do what you do best — you run. you run down the stairs and out the house and run and run and run, ashamed that this story has unfolded the exact way anyone could have predicted.

he hates you, you may love him, and neither of you are puzzle pieces that fit together.

perhaps heeseung was right; perhaps you truly are sunrises and sunsets, because alike parallel lines, the two never meet.

perhaps heeseung never taught you to heal after all. perhaps broken bones and hearts can never properly heal, the same way cuts and grazes may leave permanent scars on our bodies. perhaps your body did what it could to fix what broke, but it only took one gust of wind to retrace old scars and re-break what will always remain broken.

you’ve never been very good with your emotions.

you constantly misrepresent them.

you smile when you’re sad, frown when you’re happy, say things you don’t mean and omit the words that you resonate deepest with.

after the party, you cried like you have never cried before. it was a foreign, almost out-of-body experience. every emotion exploded and pierced through the thin surface they were bubbling beneath. your scathing tears had soaked everything — your eyes, your cheeks, and your pillow late through the night. the worst of it was the heaviness inside your chest that ceased to subside, one so hefty that it was the reason you felt like you were sinking to the bottom of an ocean.

it was only until the next morning that anger, the emotion you consider to be the easiest to wear, brought you the energy to pay a visit to ryujin. you were going to get the answers to all your questions.

after all, that was what you’d learned over the years — anger is the only emotion that gets you answers.

which is why you began with ruthlessly banging your fist on her front door.

“open the door, ryujin!” you bellow.

bang! bang! bang!

what could she have possibly said to heeseung?

bang! bang! bang!

why? why was it that ryujin was so insistent on butting in your life?

bang! bang! bang!

was this some form of karmic reparation? was the universe simply rescinding what should have never been yours in the first place?

you didn’t know what you were going to do. or say, for that matter. yet here you were, desperately trying to claw your way up to the surface where the sun kisses the water. to hell you were going to let this heaviness make you sink and give ryujin the satisfaction.

with no response on the other end, you began to kick the door now.

bang! bang! bang!

“i said, open this fucking d—”

it finally swings open.

“are you fucking nuts?” ryujin shrieks from the other side, face contorted with outrage and disbelief. she glances at the door before openly gaping at you. “what the hell? you’re going to break the fucking do—”

you waste no time in lunging toward her. you shove her with both hands, thrusting her so far behind that she lurches back and stumbles onto the floor. while sprawled on the ground, ryujin instantly snaps her head up at you and scowls. “what the fuck is wro—”

yet again, you don’t give her much time to react. you step toward her, making her scramble back before her back hits the wall. as the distance between the two of you closes, you crouch in front of her and roughly push the side of her head with a finger.

“what, ryujin?” you smirk vindictively. “did that hurt?”

her chest sharply rises heavily when she meets your icy glower. “get out.”

though she attempts to pick herself up from the floor, you harshly grip her shoulder and force her back down. you reach over and tap her cheek condescendingly, your voice now a lowly whisper.

“how funny,” you scoff, head tilted. “i thought i told you to stay out of my life.”

she grits her teeth. “i said, get out.”

“why should i? you’re the one who keeps insisting on getting involved in my shit.”

“you’re batshit.” she gapes at you. “is this about that dweeb?”

“his name is heeseung.” you snap at her, bunching the collar of her shirt in your fist. you yank her toward you, your other fist lifted and curled.

ryujin barks out a dry laugh when her eyes flit to the sight of your fist. “you’re going to punch me?” she snickers again in disbelief. the sight of her grin makes your fist tighten under her shirt. anger. you felt your anger simmer at cautionary temperatures and slowly branch up in your neck to your face.

“what did you do to him?” you grit your teeth, breathing slowly to control your emotions.

it was difficult, because you felt as though she relished at the sight of your anger. she must have recognised your most familiar emotion and felt as though you had shifted back into becoming your old self. you saw it in the way her lips curled, and the way her brows had lifted, and most notably, in the way her eyes paraded a small, tiny, starry glint that conveyed her amusement.

it made you wonder if she was doing this all intentionally.

just to get a reaction out of you.

just to get something.

“it wasn’t exactly what we did to him,” she smirked. “it was what he did to himself, really.”

“where’s taehyun?” you reach over and slowly comb your fingers through her hair, before closing your fist and grasping a bundle of her strands, jerking her head backwards. “i want him to see your face all battered up. you know, before i beat the living shit out of him, too.”

she sneers at you. “why don’t you ask heeseung? i’m sure he’ll know exactly where taehyun is.”

you narrow your eyes at her. “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“they’re probably together right now.”

heeseung and taehyun? together?

you scoff. “what?”

she stifles a laugh, and there it is again — that glint. like a tiny star amidst a midnight canvas. you could feel the anger grow like an inferno within you. that glint was pestering you; it was almost begging for you to reach over and extinguish it. you grip her hair harsher, this time yanking her head backward.

she yelps as you pin her down with a glower. “tell me where.”

she hisses at the pain of your grip on her hair and narrows her eyes. “police station, obviously,” she spat with a glare.

her eyes met yours, where your confusion must have been evident. those midnight eyes turned with patronising pity. “wow,” she remarked sarcastically. “the idiot still hasn’t told you.”

“ryujin,” you lean toward her and hiss slowly, with the intended effect that each syllable augments your hostility, “say one more thing about him and i’ll bash your skull against the cement.”

“now tell me,” you hiss, “what are they doing at the police station?” though your words appeared to be laced with composed venom, the truth remained that your heart had begun to drum. everything was coming at a surprise — you couldn’t imagine what would ever bring heeseung to a police station, though you could enumerate a thousand reasons for taehyun.

“like i said, heeseung did it to himself.”

not satisfied with her answer, you yank her hair again and this time she attempts to strike you with her free arm, but you grab her wrist and desist her from doing so. she winces when you pull her hair tighter, prompting her to quickly open her mouth and elaborate. “okay, okay!” she cries. “he was the one who agreed to take the drug test for taehyun!”

your lips drop into a frown. “what?”

“then the police found out, okay?” she seethed. “we needed him to come in and deny everything. happy?”

you stopped in confusion. what the hell was she talking about? as you sifted through the many thoughts that raced in your mind, you finally froze when you began to comprehend the situation.

you remember now. it was that day — the day you’d first met heeseung in the school hallway, when taehyun had set his eyes upon and sunken his claws into his latest victim.

taehyun was a drug user, and when he was finally caught by the school, he was mandated to perform probationary urine tests. he constantly evaded these tests by intimidating somebody into giving him fake samples. this was common practice, and it just so happened that heeseung was his chosen victim the day you two had first met.

heeseung never told you that.

he never told you that he went through with it.

“i mean, maybe if he’d kept his mouth shut or done a better job at peeing in a fucking cup, things wouldn’t be like this. in saying that, whose fault is it really?” ryujin rambled on, rubbing salt to the wound as your anger multiplied. “it was still fun at least. especially when we got to talk about you.”

your hand balled into a tighter fist.

“me?” you pin her down with a dark gaze. “what the fuck did you say about me?”

she shrugs smugly. you watched as a sly smile slithered to her lips and her eyes pooled with shiny darkness. “nothing that wasn’t true.”

your heart drops to your feet.

“you know, it’s funny,” ryujin stifles a laugh, “because he denied it at first. said that you were…” she lifts her hands and uses her fingers to show quotation marks, “different.” you felt your anxiety pierce and gush into your stomach. “we laughed in his face. different, my ass. you didn’t tell him, did you? that you’re actually as much of a piece of shit as we are. he even called you an angel, you know that?”

angel.

“so we decided to set the record straight and we told him what he had the right to know.” she giggled. “you didn’t forget, did you?”

you stared.

“the letter,” she reminds you. “he was so embarrassed i think that was when he started to cry.”

you froze.

the letter.

fuck.

you wanted nothing more than to run to heeseung and clarify the misunderstanding as best that you could. you wanted to talk to him. hold him. apologise and tell him you’d never intentionally hurt him. that it was an accident — that you lied, yes, but you just didn’t want him to feel embarrassed at that time. that it was a lapse in judgement.

but for some reason, something holds you back.

anger.

anger holds you back.

the thing about anger is that while it may be your most familiar emotion, it is also the most paralysing of them all. and when it’s combined with resentment, it becomes insidious. the reality about anger is that it exists only in the absence of control, a dangerous condition to find yourself in.

nevertheless, you feel that way.

you feel out of control.

helpless. angry. frustrated.

why? because that glint is still there. the gleaming, ostentatious star in her eyes that flounces around in her own delight. mocking you.

ryujin is staring at you expectantly, anticipating your reaction.

you know that she’s waiting for you to punch her. to show her you prefer fists over words. to show her you have not changed in the slightest. everything she has done is aimed to get a rise out of you; she doesn’t care about anything else but avenging the fact you had tossed your friendship to the side — that you had tossed her aside.

in this moment, you realise that no matter how hard you try, you know that ryujin has won. she doesn’t even need to try very hard to show you that you will never be able to change into a better person. your efforts have come to naught. even now, you are held by anger; you want it to control you — even if it means reversing everything heeseung had taught you about not acting upon your impulses; about not fighting fire with fire.

you wonder how heeseung would react if he found out what you’d done today. that you’d allowed anger to override you and that you had already used your hands on ryujin.

you pushed her, shoved her to the ground and pulled her hair without a second thought.

after all, you’d proven her right — you are still the same person.

how would he react?

these very thoughts loosen your grip on ryujin’s collar.

you slowly retract your hands from her, feeling the heaviness inside your chest gnaw at you. why are you stooping to her level? as you swallow and salvage whatever amount of sense you have left, you shake your head and slowly rise to your feet.

if heeseung saw you now, he’d probably be scared.

he’d probably see them in you.

your sudden withdrawal makes ryujin freeze. she seems taken off guard. she watches you suspiciously as you attempt to compose yourself, noticeably irked by your lack of response. “you’re… not going to hit me?” she hesitates, sitting up slowly.

“ryujin, you and i are done.” you attempt to stabilise your shaky breaths. for some reason, focusing on heeseung helps your mind from spinning. he’s your anchor and when you use him as your moral compass, he brings the clarity you need. “for real this time.”

“what?” ryujin splutters with disbelief. she pauses, openly gawking. “what the fuck?” she scrambles to her feet and storms over toward you before abruptly shoving you into the door — the impact thunders down your spine and instantly releases a grunt from you, head spinning.

“hit me!” she taunts you by sneering in your face. “i made your little boy cry. hit me.”

“if he wanted me to, i honestly would,” you spit at her. “you should thank him you’re not bleeding out right now.”

she yells as you storm away from her house and it occurs to you that there’s really only one person you want to see right now.

you want to tell him that he was right.

you are different from ryujin after all.

and you will do whatever it takes to stray further and further away from being anything remotely similar.

‘you never know.’ ‘you might wake up one day and find that the sun is gone.’ ‘and then it’s like, poof — no more sunsets.’

heeseung was right.

the day you two had first met, you laughed and called him a loser for taking photos of the sunset. after all, he was attempting to immortalise something that was already a cosmic promise.

honestly, you didn’t get it.

what was the point of taking a photo of something he could see every day?

you realise now that he was right all along – it really was possible to wake up one day and find the sun gone.

everybody just has a different idea of what the sun is to them. for you, yours disappeared when you realised heeseung was doing whatever it took to avoid you over the weekend.

your texts were left unanswered.

calls were sent to voicemail.

he was shutting you out.

you tried to visit his house on sunday morning, but his mother faced you with a regretful smile and asked you not to come in. you didn’t know what else you could do because he seemed to close down every avenue you pursued.

you were so eager on monday morning to see him at school. you were an hour and a half early as you roamed everywhere, attempting to control your nerves. you didn’t know whether or not you should have waited at the school entrance, or by his locker, or just outside the classroom door.

it didn't matter, because he was late.

you were already halfway through the day when you had almost given up, though you got your first glimpse of him in days when he had finally showed up.

he looked almost as horrible as you did.

the darkness under his eyes had grown. his brown hair was fluffy and in plain disarray compared to how he usually styled it. his eyes were so puffy that it looked like he’d been crying all weekend, the same way you had. you tried to catch his eyes, but he didn’t return your gaze and instead slid into his desk quietly with his shoulders slumped.

there was a pang in your chest. his appearance made guilt expand within you.

did you do the impossible? did you break the sun and make it rain?

when class finished, you waited outside the door and stopped him when he tried to leave. it was only then that he finally looked back at you and you felt your heart stop. it took you all the strength to not cry, so you snaked a hand around his wrist and led the way to the school’s court garden.

“heeseung,” you faced him when you both stopped at a quiet place inside the open garden. his gaze was affixed to the grass beneath his shoes, so you took a deep breath and let the words flow from your chest.

“heeseung, i’m so sorry for lying to you about the letter.”

he didn’t reply.

it stung to hear silence on the other end because you weren’t used to it. you were used to heeseung’s warmth; his smiles, his laughs, and the bright stars in his eyes. instead, he seemed to have retreated back into a shell of dejection.

you gulped and fiddled with your hands. “i-i should have told you the truth. ryujin saw it, yes, but it wasn’t because i showed her. i-i just… she was there when i found it in my locker. that’s it. it’s not an excuse for lying, but i promise i would never intentionally embarrass you.”

you waited for his response and still found silence. this was when panic slowly crept up inside you.

“i-i really fucked up when i lied to you. i just didn’t want to embarrass you, and the more time that went on, the weirder it felt to bring it up. but i should have told you the truth. i’m sorry, heeseung.”

there was a pause before he finally lifted his head.

“stop apologising,” he whispered so gently you almost missed it.

“wh-what?”

“it was here,” he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and roamed the area with his eyes. “i-i think it was here when you told me to stop apologising to people. you said i said sorry too much.”

god, you felt relief in your chest, it felt nice to hear his voice again. you were worried he might never talk to you again.

as you briefly considered his answer, you glanced around and recognised the bench you two had sat on when he’d tried to confess to lia. he was right — it was exactly here that you two had your first real conversation. your stomach twisted. he always remembers everything.

“i’m really sorry for ignoring you over the weekend.” heeseung finally returned your stare, and once your eyes had met, you felt your heart squeeze at the sight of misery in his pretty eyes. you hate the sight of him like this. this must be one of the worst things you’ve ever done. you wanted nothing more than for the rain to stop and the clouds to pave way for your sunshine.

“i-i just needed some space,” he continued gently. “and actually… mom thought it was a better idea for her to take my phone, so i didn’t see your texts.”

“oh,” you replied, noticing the distant tone in his voice. “it’s okay, heeseung. i understand.”

“but, um… i did a lot of thinking,” he says, smiling weakly.

you smiled back, though trepidation edged along your nerves. “o-okay.”

his eyes diverted to the side. “i… i wasn’t sad over the weekend because of the letter. i—” you saw his eyes flicker upwards toward the sky, as though he was attempting to contain his tears. “i-i think… i was just upset because…” he bit on his lips as you watched him deliberate over his next words. your heart was beating faster and faster at the possibility this may be the last conversation you ever have with him. it was selfish, but you didn’t know if that would be manageable for you.

because even if he didn’t need you, you needed him.

“because i didn’t tell you about taehyun,” his lips fell into a sad frown. “thing is, i… i was really embarrassed about it. and… well, i-i…” he took a deep, shaky breath.

you knew he was gathering as much courage as he could to speak with you.

“i just really, really, really hate embarrassing myself in front of the person that i like.”

he finally looked up at you and everything in you stopped. blood felt like the crackling of lightning in your veins. every other sound seemed to dull into a deafening silence.

“to clarify, th-that’s you. y-you’re the person that i like. a lot. i like you really a lot— that... doesn’t make sense,” he winced at himself, eyes shut tightly. “i’m sorry, i… i sound so stupid right now.” he slumped his shoulders.

“heeseung, i—”

“wait. p-please let me continue,” he looked up at you through his glasses and you fell straight into his deer-like eyes.

“okay,” you whispered. “go on.”

“i… i just want to be good enough for you,” he finally admitted and you felt everything around you crash. him? good enough for you? he already was; he was more than enough. you were the one struggling to catch up with him. “be someone you can depend on. someone you can trust and be proud of.”

“heeseung,” you step toward him and clasp his hands with yours, forcing him to look back at you. “you’re right. you really do sound stupid.”

“h-huh?” he peered up at you as you saw panic flicker like disco lights in his eyes. “i-i’m sorry, i… i just wanted to come clean and not lie to you anymore. i’m really sorry for pressuring you, i—”

“no,” you shook your head, silencing him immediately. “it’s not because of that.”

you dropped his hands and slid yours in the spaces under his arms where you could wrap around his waist and embrace him into a tight hug. he instantly froze while you allowed yourself to melt into him, your face in his chest.

“fuck,” you mumbled against his uniform, inhaling the scent of his laundry powder. “i missed you like crazy.”

his heart was hammering inside his chest and you squeezed yourself tighter, finding solace in the synchronicity of your beat with his.

“two days and i felt like i was going insane,” you gripped his blazer tightly, “i… i thought you hated me.”

“hate you? n-no way…”

a stupidly wide smile stretched across your lips. slowly, you noticed heeseung was beginning to return your embrace. his arms slowly found their way to your back, and once they rested on your body, you allowed yourself to take a proper breath, engraving memories associated with his scent.

“i like you too, dummy,” you mumbled against the fabric. “ceaselessly. probably way more than you like me.”

“you—”

“yes, me.”

“y-you… you really like me? for real?”

when you release him, his bewildered expression makes you instantly erupt into a fit of laughter. he seems to take this as an indication that you’re messing him because of the way lips return into a point.

“are you kidding?” you scoffed playfully, grabbing his face and cradling it with both hands, his soft skin against yours. “you make it ridiculously easy to.”

“a-are you serious?” he pointed to himself, lashes batting innocently. “you really like me? me? heeseung? you like lee heeseung? you know i’m heeseung, right?”

you stare, astounded by his reaction. “you’re crazy.”

“no, i just told you i’m heeseung,” he deadpanned.

idiot. “yes, heeseung. you. i like you like crazy. it’s sickening how much i do.”

heeseung watched you expressionless for a moment before you watched his face explode with sunshine. speckles of gold dust returned to his eyes and twinkled like constellations. his smile swept his face and instantly made your heart thump out your ears.

“you’re not lying, right? you really like me? and it’s definitely because of my bowties, right?”

you almost wanted to groan aloud and slap yourself in the face, but you stifled down this desire and shook your head instead. sickening, you thought to yourself. his sunshine is so sickeningly sweet.

and if there’s one thing about you — it’s that you have a sweet tooth; and heeseung is a taste you have been dying to have.

“yes. it’s definitely the bowties. they’re basically chick magnets,” you remarked, a smirk forming. “do you know what happens to chick magnets?”

heeseung quickly shook his head.

you smiled. “they get devoured.”

heeseung’s brows slightly furrowed, his head tilted to the side in what appeared to be confusion. he blinked, not quite understanding your implication.

“in other words, i’m going to kiss you.”

that, he understood.

heeseung’s eyes instantly rounded like saucers. “h-huh?”

“i know you heard me,” you took a step toward him, circling your arms around the back of his neck to ring him in close. he blushed at the proximity, and if you were being honest, so did you.

frankly, you were more nervous than you’d thought you would be. this was the fastest and hardest you’d ever felt your heart beat; it almost threatened to leap up through your throat.

perhaps it was because heeseung was an expert at annihilating everything you thought you knew about yourself. he was great at that: showing you that you were much further from who you thought you were, and close to who you thought you could never be. there were no more first, second, third, and fourth experiences anymore. just a life before him and after him.

when you felt his breath nearing and the heat from his chest, you thought your head spun for a moment. it felt as though the distance between your lips were simultaneously the closest and farthest distances apart. it wasn’t until he sighed – a release of just the faintest, softest breath — that the sound swept through your chest like a hurricane, and you felt everything within you topple over.

your whole body sank forward into his and you kissed him. you shut your eyes and did what you feared most — you opened up your heart to him and let everything you had within you flow out so that he could feel every inch of your warmth and sincerity. you led the movement first, noticing the way he tried to mimic your movements. he was slow and uncertain at first, until he followed through with what felt right.

when he began to kiss you back, it felt like fireworks shattered within you. you instantly softened when he looped his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly, because there was no safer feeling than being in his arms.

you knew it.

heeseung is good at everything he tries.

when the kiss deepened, you thought he tasted like he fell from the clouds and the stars. like stardust and eternity and endlessness. you liked the taste of that. all you’ve ever known are temporary people, the leaving and the waiting and the hoping, so it makes all the more sense when you crumble and melt at the taste of forever and focus on carving this memory onto your soul.

you couldn’t deny it any further — you were falling in love with him. in fact, you’d fallen down a slippery slope that led you into a pit with no way of crawling yourself out.

when your lips pull away, you’re both panting for a proper breath. it isn’t until your eyes meet that the world stops moving and something warm ignites like a candle.

you allowed time to pass you by as your eyes raked every feature of his face; drinking in his beauty, indulging in the rare moment you were able to admire him so closely. you felt bewitched by the way the sunlight gently radiated his features; they shone through the sky and struck him like a spotlight, even in broad daylight. being this close to him brought forward all of his prettiest, most finely drawn features – the mole on the left side of his lips, his long, wispy lashes, and the slight scrunch of his brows.

you should’ve stopped, but you couldn’t, because he was prettier the longer you stared.

time slowed while you were slipping further and further into an enchanting spell.

falling.

you always hated that — the sensation of falling. being out of control; being helpless. but somehow, with heeseung it felt different — you were falling through time and space and the stars and the sky and everything in between. it was really beautiful.

you’ve been falling for days and weeks and what felt like lifetime across lifetimes. you fell until it no longer felt like falling, but flying.

“heeseung, you’re really bad at kissing, you know that?”

you felt so bad when his entire face fell and he looked at you with complete horror. “wh-what?”

you placed a finger on his lips to keep him from talking. “since you’re so bad, i think you need a few more lessons,” you smiled. “let’s ditch school and go to back to mine. you know, for education’s sake.” you winked.

heeseung tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, smiling shyly. “o-okay.”

fin.

a/n: and then they went home and watched Star Wars :) ANYWAYS. guys u do not understand I actually went thru 32842378 cycles of frustration, anger, and giddiness while trying to wrap this series up. I'm not lying when I say I have about 6 different versions of this chapter, but I decided to keep it simple and straight to the point because ultimately that's what I felt triage was all about :) if you came here looking for genuine dating tips& got lost im sorry i can’t help u cos I'm in my healing era (subtext: literally no man wants me). but anyways I hope this series brought you a little bit of joy some way or another. I honestly had the best time writing it ^^ all the best! hope i to see u in my future works too! thanks for reading! love u so much! <3 (also feedback would be vv nice if u have the time!) MWAH

also, i’ll probably write bonus chapters every time i miss this story so lmk if u wanna be tagged in those ^^

back to masterlist.

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virescent-v · 5 months

Note

I’ve always wanted to see a fic surrounding this: the aftermath of Emily’s rescue from Mr Scratch. Maybe a fluffy bath moment at home or sweet smut vibes?

Aftermath

A/N: Bestie! I loved this idea. Tbh, I had to watch that ep first because I had no idea who Mr Scratch was. I'm only on s5 of my watch through hahaha. But I watched it, and wrote this! I hope it does it some justice. I think this is really my first take at a hurt/comfort fic.

Word Count: 1.6k (I broke my less than 1k word challenge, oops) Warnings: honeslty, not too much. There is some slight smut tho.

You were told to wait at home. But the wait was excruciating.

You hadn’t gotten many details from Penelope other than Emily had been kidnapped, drugged, and had gotten rescued. She was otherwise unharmed. You only knew that she was chasing a high profile psychopath; someone that had even Hotchner running into WITSEC.

So, you were waiting. Impatiently. For your girlfriend to come home. So you could check her over yourself, especially since you knew she wasn’t going to be responsible and go to the hospital.

You were broken out of your inner anxious ramblings by Emily stumbling through the front door, all but dropping her bags at her feet and practically running right to you.

“Em,” you whispered, gathering her in your arms. You could feel her slightly shaking, the adrenaline of everything finally crashing on her. “You’re home, baby, and safe. You’re safe now,” you said, continuing to whisper sweet words to her, rubbing your hands on her back, helping to wear off some of the epinephrine coursing through her.

You tried to pull away, so you could look at her, really look at her, but her arms shot out and grabbed you around your waist, pulling you even closer to her. Like she was trying to burrow into you.

“Not yet,” she whispered, her nose dragging up the side of your neck, breathing in your perfume.

“Okay, okay.”

It takes a couple of minutes; you can feel Emily mouthing something against your skin, as if she’s trying to ground herself, reminding herself that she’s not with him anymore. Eventually, though, she loosens her grip on you, allowing you to look at her face for the first real time since she got home.

When your eyes connect, you can see the tears shining in hers. You can feel the weight of her stare, silently communicating between the two of you.

I almost died.

But you didn’t, love. You’re home.

You trail your hand up her arm, across her shoulder, and over her heart.

You’re alive. You’re safe.

As you tap your pointer finger on her chest in time with her heartbeat, she takes a shuddering breath, a few tears finally making their way down her cheek. She blinks a few times, not trying to hide the emotion escaping her, before taking a deep breath that seems to use all of her remaining energy.

“Can- can we take a bath?” She asks, timidly. As if you would ever deny her anything.

You don’t say anything. You just grasp her hand in yours and lead her to your bathroom. You sit her on the toilet, tucking some of her stray hair behind her ears. You reach over to your oversized tub, turning the water to just on the side of scalding. The temperature Emily prefers.

As the tub fills, you watch Emily, rubbing your hands on her knees. She’s still occasionally shaking, but not as badly as when she came in. Her gaze isn’t focused on anything, worrying you that she might start receding back to memories from earlier. You know she’ll be hit with nightmares later, something you’ve dealt with before and know how to handle. You just want to prevent that for right now.

Once the tub is full, you add some bath water oils, a eucalyptus smell. You’ve found that it’s better for keeping Emily calm over lavender or vanilla smells.

You start to strip, placing your clothes in the hamper. Emily still isn’t focusing on anything, her eyes settled on her hands on her lap. She isn’t even registering that the bath is ready, so you approach her quietly.

“Em, baby, the bath is ready. You need to get undressed.”

Her eyes tracked up your body, but there wasn’t her normal heat in her gaze. Only as if she was making sure that it was really you.

When your eyes connected, you had to stop yourself from gasping. Her eyes were turning red from trying not to cry, almost overflowing with unshed tears.

You crouched down in front of her, your nude form not even a worry. You rubbed your thumbs across her cheeks, trying to get her to release her emotions. You’d take them from her if you could.

Emily feels your thumbs rubbing back and forth, letting your love for her ground her to this moment. Eventually, she closes her eyes tight, all of the tears breaking free, and she starts to sob. She collapses into you, burrowing into your neck again. This time, you can hear her mumbling, wheels up, I’m home, wheels up, I’m home over and over again. A mantra.

You give her a few minutes, letting her get out most of the current wave of emotion. You know it’ll hit her again later, likely many times, and you know you’ll take them all in stride. Anything for her.

Another deep breath, another slow release from you. You reach over and grab some toilet paper, wiping at her teary, snotty face. You can tell she almost cracks a smile at the noise her nose makes when she blows it into the tissue; she’s slowly coming back to herself.

After you toss the tissue in the trash, you grab the hem of her shirt. Tugging on it, Emily raises her arms, allowing you to undress her. There’s no sexual charge to your movements; this is purely emotional, intimate connection between you and your girl.

You get in the tub first, spreading your legs so Emily can settle between them. Usually, she’s behind you, always pampering you. It’s only on rare occasions do you get to be the one caring for her, so you take pride in your movements, your ability to calm her when she most needs it.

As she settles in front of you, you feel the last of her energy leave her. The hot water around you soothing sore muscles, easing her overworked nervous system. Her heart rate starts to slow, her breaths becoming deeper, slower, longer.

While you know that her body is physically relaxing, you know that her mind is not.

You never get the details of the case. She never wants to burden you with the gruesomeness of her job, doesn’t want you to worry more than you already do. Emily’s a profiler, can read anyone in the room and pinpoint their motives. But you’ve become an expert in Emily.

You help her through the aftermath as best as you can, providing her with the space to unwind in whatever what she deems necessary - or whatever way her body deems necessary. Sometimes it’s a hot bath and a good meal, sometimes it’s body-wracking sobs on the couch, and sometimes it’s taking her to the local gym to spar with someone and let her anger out.

You see sides of your girlfriend that you know no one else has or ever will. She’s a strong, independent person with walls taller than Everest. Somehow, you’ve managed to climb them, repel down them, and settle in. Emily let you settle in, let you unwind the barb wire around her heart. You’d protect it with your life.

You start rubbing a soft cloth with your body wash across Emily’s body; she’s always taken comfort in your smell after a bad case. You make sure to go slow, not knowing what happened to her, not wanting to trigger anything unknowingly.

As you reach her bent knees, you feel her flinch a little. You stop immediately, trying to check in with her again. She’s mouthing the same mantra: Wheels up, I’m home, wheels up…

“Em? Do your legs hurt?”

A slight shake of her head. No pain, which likely means it’s something mentally.

You continue slowly, letting her feel the cloth on her legs. “Open your eyes, Em. Your legs are okay.”

You watch the side of her face, watch as her eyes blink open, watch as her eyes track your hands up and down her leg.

Another deep, shuddering breath as you feel her relax back into you. She continues to watch your movements, her eyes growing more focused as they move back up her torso.

“I need,” a whisper, caught in the dryness of her throat; she clears it before trying again. “I need you to touch me.”

You release the cloth, notice it float away to the end of the tub. Your hands wrap around her, settling lower on her belly, resting there. You watch the side of her face again. “You sure?”

You would never take advantage of her, not while she’s vulnerable. You’ve had this conversation before, about how sometimes after certain cases she just needs to feel connected to you, feel intertwined with something that is real.

She turns to look at you, her nose brushing against yours as she whispers a strong, steady, “love me,” against your lips.

She trails her hand to yours, interlocks your fingers, before bringing both of them down to her core. Interconnected, simultaneously, you start rubbing slow, steady circles on her clit, working her up easily, lovingly.

Each brush of your fingers against her has her twitching, rolling her hips into your hands. Her head thrown back against your shoulder, you can see her feeling you, feeling your love for her. The only thing on her mind now is her, you, and the way that you make her feel. Each stroke of your fingers is a promise, a vow to protect her, keep her safe, love her. It’s a love letter of all of the things you wish you could voice, of all of the ways you care for her.

As she nears her peak, your lips find her ear as you whisper over and over I love you, you’re home, I love you…

Her back arches against you, her hips pressing more fully into your hand. You help her ride through the waves, gathering her in your arms as she settles back down. Your lips brush light kisses around her temple and cheek as she catches her breath.

“I love you,” she says. “I’m home.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #virescent v fanfic #ask v!#emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss fanfiction #i somehow wrote and published three fics in one day???#who am i????#god i love emily so much #thanks for the prompt bestie!!#if theres mistakes in this do not let me know #i read through it once before posting ahhaha

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alfredosauce50 · 3 months

Text

Yandere Denmark headcanons

Ruthless, ambitious, and with a mind for expansion, it’s no wonder he always finds himself in positions of political power. But like all men, he has desires of the flesh, the longing for real connection. He comes onto you as an ordinary man, and you love him as one.

What you don’t know, is that he’s the king. When you learn the truth, you pull away fearing for your own safety. But he holds onto all the tighter. With the nation obeying his every whim and every pair of eyes and ears working for him, he’s impossible to escape.

Content warning: Sex, violence, and dubious consent. R18+ only.

The nobleman

Mathias commands respect everywhere he goes. As one of the most powerful men in the ancient world, he has a potent presence that causes the whole energy of a room to change if he were to enter it. But he also likes to blend in when he can. He will dress down to avoid standing out, even if it’s still in clothes for those in the top percentile.

He often leaves the palace grounds to visit the city in person. Whether it’s for leisure or to see how his kingdom is doing, he insists on doing it without protection. And when people recognize his face as the same one on the back of their coins, he gives a reassuring smile as they talk excitedly amongst themselves. The King is here!

Chinese silk, richly dyed clothing, and the most exotic Arabian perfume. They’re everything you notice about Mathias when you serve him at your diner. A member of the ruling class, you think. But that’s all. The last thing you’d expect is for the king himself to show up in this humble establishment, fitting in like everybody else.

“Tell me, eskler,” He begins, watching you set down his meal in front of him. Lamb shank, mash, and the soup of the day. A hearty meal to go with the homey atmosphere. “What do you think about the king?”

“I don’t know,” You lift your gaze to him thoughtfully. Without batting an eye, you tell him the words he didn’t know he needed to hear, and would, in turn, change his life forever. “I’ve never met him.”

He’s taken aback by your response, but it draws him in like no other. There’s people who don’t care for politics, and then there’s you. Someone who’s never even seen him before. And so long as he keeps his identity a secret, he’ll be treated as an equal. It’s nowhere near the treatment fit for a king, but somehow, he can’t get enough.

Mathias asks you out for dinner. You reject him the first time, and understandably so. You don’t wanna accidentally become a part of his harem, or whatever it is the elites are doing these days. However, you eventually have a change of heart when you keep seeing him in your diner. Not to pester you about a date, but only to eat and chat.

“Seeing that you’re more polite than any other man I’ve met, I’ll take you up on your offer,” You tell him.

“Really?”

“What, did you have higher expectations for men?”

“No, that’s why I’m surprised you would say yes,” Mathias explains, following you with his eyes as you clear up the last remaining tables. He eventually stands up to ask this. “What makes me so different?”

The truth is, you sense that he’s a good person, and he’s shocked when you tell him. He tries to see himself in your eyes, and in turn, discovers a whole new side. Thanks to your willingness to engage with him on his level, he gets in touch with the more vulnerable parts of his character. He drops his guard, and feels strangely human.

He starts seeing you in secret. The moment he gets the chance, he disappears from the palace and makes a discrete trip to your home. His alibi? The same thing he’s been doing the whole time. He’ll always show up with flowers and other gifts, but more importantly, an empty stomach, having developed an appetite for your simple cooking.

“So, what are we having for dinner today?” He rubs his hands expectantly as he peers over your shoulder.

“Pickled fish,” You hum.

“Can I help?” He lights up, rolling his sleeves.

“You can help me by staying out of the kitchen.”

He’s very playful. Rolling around with you in the grass, pretending to bite you like a frenzied dog, it’s a timeless romance that transcends the ages. He can play with you like a child but love you like a woman, so being with him feels like a dream. His presence is just so fulfilling you can’t imagine asking for more, but he just keeps surprising you.

He spoils you. His generosity is magnanimous, pampering you with jewelry, dresses, homeware, and everything you could ever need, and more. Mathias imagines himself to be the solution to all your problems, and takes great pride in using his privilege to help you. Little does he know, it’s the one thing that drives a wedge between you both.

“This is really nice and all, but—”

Mathias is taking you to store after store, fishing out anything he thinks would look good on you. And he isn’t picky, or shy, for that matter. He will watch your silhouette behind the paper screen until you finish.

“—this is a bit much, don’t you think?” You appear from the side of the screen in a revealing jade dress, cheeks flushed. “I don’t need all these things, and besides, I could never pay you back if I tried.”

“Why would you pay me back?” He questions.

“I’m just saying,” You reply, sliding your hands in his. “It always feels like we’re from different worlds, Mat.”

He takes that statement personally and becomes cautious about protecting his identity. You hold him to a high enough regard already, and he’s only revealed so much — that he’s an aristocrat. Even then, you’re still wary of the class difference that sets you two apart. Mathias is destined for greatness, but this is all you’ll ever be. Imagine how you’d react if you found out he was the king.

He’s afraid that he’ll scare you off. All rulers have blood on their hands, a ruthlessness that evades the ordinary man. You would be heartbroken if Mathias were anything of such, and he knows. He only wants you to see him as the person he is when he’s with you. Kind, gentle, and passionate. You make feel like a man, and when he feels like a man, it fills him with a carnal sense of purpose.

He’s sensual at heart, so he can’t go without it. Not without you, or the intoxicating completion you give him. So when you start pulling away, he’ll feel the whips of panic because a part of him is slipping away. Every interaction you have with him will become emotionally charged. Mathias chases you like crazy, but you withhold from him, causing him to have frequent bursts of passion.

“I thought we talked about this—”

“—No, I thought we talked about this. You said you loved me, and now you’re not gonna marry me?” Mathias sits up out of alarm, then stares at you like you just betrayed him, because to him, you have.

When you argue

There’s no arguing with Mathias. When he wants it his way, he’ll eventually get it. And in that same breath, you can never stay mad at him, allowing for a vicious cycle that never ends. Something about him just gets you to forgive him before he even does anything. It doesn’t matter what the argument is about, or how bad it gets, because it’s guaranteed you’ll be kissing him by nightfall, and he’ll be making love to you until sunrise.

“What’s makes us so different to each other?”

“You know why,” You rub the tears from your eyes as you rush down the stairs. “I’m not your equal. I don’t have money, I can barely read, and I don’t know anything about the things that are important to you!”

“Those are trivial things! And they’re nothing I can’t give or teach you!” He runs in front of you, talking excitedly. And he believes in every word he speaks. “The fact that we’re arguing makes us equals!”

No matter how outlandish.

“It doesn’t work that way, Mathias!”

He uses sex to his advantage. You know touch is his love language, so it becomes hard to resist, especially after a bad fight. The tension calls for a hard release of it, which he does through a hot and raw pounding. It gives him the safety and reassurance that you will always love him, and he’s addicted to it like a drug. Don’t be surprised that he starts picking fights just for the sake of it.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” He pants over you, moving his pelvis back and forth in fluid thrusts.

“You wouldn’t dare,” You breathe under him.

“I would,” Mathias speeds up to a pace that gets his face to contort from a pleasure so good, it looked like he was in pain. He was going so hard and deep, his orgasm came in seconds, arriving in strong jets that fills you to the brim. And he’s not letting you go until every last drop of it is pumped into your womb.

He wrecks boundaries and shatters your mind in the process. He can’t handle distance, let alone tension, and will force his way into your world. You can’t help but let him, too helplessly in love with his smile and memory. He seems nurturing and giving, when really, he takes just as much, and if not, more. You don’t always realize that, and lose yourself as well as your ability to say no.

The King

He has a fierce intelligence that intimidates. Not only does he have one of the greatest military minds of all time, there is no taking advantage of him in political exchanges. He can read anyone with a single glance, then find a way to get out on top. It’s all in his slick grin, which goes away in an instant. Making it obvious he’s hiding his amusement is just how he mocks his enemies.

Mathias is above the system. He doesn’t abide by existing power or religious structures if he thinks they’re useless. Sailing west into an open ocean, guiding his people to enlightenment and discovery. Questioning rulers, then going so far as to overthrow them. He’s a dark horse when it comes to challenging the natural order, a master of annexation, a force to be reckoned with.

He treats those below him with respect. He will look anyone in the eye to speak to them on their level, no matter who. He’s not pretentious at all, but very understanding of people from all walks of life. Kind to the poor, merciless to the rich. Civilians are cared for by their king and love him for it, but the same can’t be said for high society. Not that they have anything to say about it.

Mathias is uncensored to violence. He wouldn’t bat an eye at the inside of someone’s skull, heads rolling, or spilled guts. As a king, he’s seen it all. He fights with his men like the God of war for all his incorruptible dreams, so every battle serves a divine purpose. If it means he can give his people a better life, give you a better life, he would gladly take it away all the same without hesitation.

And yet, when you come around, his invincibility, sharpness, everything that makes him ruthless, goes away instantly. That impenetrable exterior his enemies work tirelessly to get past, is broken. He returns to who he is at his core, a kind, gentle, and curious man because you see him as such. Being with you is like rising to the surface and taking a breath for the first time, constantly.

For this, he can never stop thinking about you. Every waking hour of the day, you’re on his mind. With the rush of politics and warfare, all he wants is to drown in your love, beauty, and femininity. You are the light to the darkness that pervades the world, your presence a sacred haven in all the chaos. It’s no wonder the world is made for two, because he can’t understand it without you.

That’s why he’s such an intense lover. Mathias will show up to your doorstep uninvited and beg for your attention like he’s starving for it, because there’s no other way to describe such a feeling. Whether it’s through talking, touching, or kissing, the way he looks at you is how all girls want to be looked at — a look with so much love, you can hardly return it. But he makes you every time.

He can stay calm even in times of conflict and crises. He knows when he’s in control, and this has served him well for many years. But if he does lose his head, it’s when you’re caught in the crossfire. He will do anything to keep you safe, even if he has to sacrifice thousands of others. He wouldn’t just go to war for you like other men, he would wage them. Start them. Finish them.

His dedication is the stuff of myths and legends, because if it came down to it, he would venture to the depths of the underworld to rescue you from the dead. Slay monsters to prove his worth. Challenge Gods. Nothing is bigger than his love for you, and he’ll make the whole world feel it. What he has with you is for the history books, epics, and sagas, but he’d prefer privacy over all.

You are his only weakness, so if someone caught wind of the king’s secret lover, everything would be over. Unfortunately, he gets too carried away by going to your home too often. To protect you, he has no choice but to reveal his identity and take you back to the palace. Dressed up in his most extravagant robes, he knocks on your door with a band of soldiers surrounding the property.

When you answer, the first thing you see is Mathias in his crown, and behind him, the royal guard. Your heart sinks as everything clicks. Why he was always so secretive, why he was always so adamant that you were his equal, his other half. Why the court advisors bowed before him despite being the highest ranking officials in the state, because he was above everyone and everything, all except for the Gods themselves.

“Let me explain.” He tells you, brows raised.

“I knew it,” You utter, slamming the door in his face. But nobody simply shuts out the king, not even you. That reality sinks in as he stays outside your home, asserting he has no intention to leave without you.

The honeymoon

The first week is the toughest. You feel betrayed and overwhelmed by who Mathias is, so you refuse to see him. He’s very understanding at first, and prepares a separate room just for you. It’s fully furnished, lavishly decorated, and filled with everything you’ve ever laid your eyes on. He’s been thinking of you all this time, yearning to be with you, but you have yet to give in. This isn’t the man you thought you knew, and yet, some part of you always suspected he’d turn out this way. He seemed too good to be true, and he was. After all, every force has an equal and opposite reaction, where his love for you alone goes head to head with his ruthlessness.

He tries to find you around the palace, which is perfect for when you eventually get cabin fever. You roam the palace grounds out of curiosity, even joining some of the servants in the kitchen. Mathias would never show up in a place like that, and that serves you well for a few days. You feel like yourself again and all is well, that is, until you run into him in the orchard, picking apples for himself. It’s the second time you’ve made the crucial mistake of thinking of him as any other king when he isn’t. No chore is too low for him to do, no place too filthy for him to be. You both stare at each other, eyes wide. Without a single word exchanged, you turn around and run off.

“Will you at least have dinner with me?” He calls out to you, watching your back grow smaller and smaller.

“I’m quite fine, thank you.”

“Please?” Mathias softens his voice. “I miss you.”

You can’t resist him, especially when he talks and looks at you like that. The man you thought you knew is still in there, and it sucks you in like a rip. You join him in the dining hall and have a meal together, even if it’s a silent one. You’re keen on leaving right after, but he’s quick to notice that. He’s never wrong when it comes to reading your body language, even when you were being subtle about it. Turns out, with him, nothing is subtle. He catches you before you get far, grabbing your hand and pulling you back. “I’m still the same person you love, so will you just stay with me?”

Mathias is sneaky. He’s really good at reeling you in and letting you think you’re pushing him away. And he gets closer the more he keeps doing it. He knows exactly what he’s doing, while looking like he doesn’t. His innocent act is more effective than you’re led on to believe, because you fall for it every time. Every interaction with him has a catch, just like the dinner that came with a stroll. And now, you’re in his bed a week after telling him you want to sleep separately. You only realize your mistake three nights in, curled up tightly in his arms, staring up at his tired, smiling face.

“What am I gonna do with you?” You whisper.

“The same thing you’ve always done.” He answers.

He’s comfortable in his natural state. Mathias has the body of a warrior, his skin scarred by all the blades that have touched him. Otherwise, he’s an impressive specimen produced from years of battle and good genes. Large, muscular, and well-endowed. If the weather allows for it, he’ll relax in the bedroom buck naked, and talk to you as casually as he would with clothes on. He doesn’t feel any shame or embarrassment when he’s so familiar with you. He can also work up quite a stink, so he makes it a point to chase you around for a hug. And he catches you every time.

He expects you to join him for breakfast and dinner everyday. Mathias has a lot of business to attend to in between, but wants you to be the first and last thing he sees. Waking up and falling asleep beside you isn’t enough. He also insists on taking all his baths with you, so you ought to get used to being naked around him. He’s the type to stare, and so much that it’s embarrassing, but he always makes sure to remind you how beautiful you are. He may be a handful, but he just wants you to be as comfortable around him as you can so you both can be like two peas in a pod.

“It’s not like I haven’t already seen every inch of you, so don’t be shy,” He wades over to you in the pool.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t stop refreshing your memory.” You splash his face, cackling. “Have some manners!”

He tutors you. Granted, it took a lot of convincing on your end, but you can’t deny that you want to be closer to him, and this is how. He teaches you all about his duties, as well as math, science, and literacy. You didn’t go to school, but he wants to involve you in official business as you’ll be his most trusted partner in the future. And if he sends letters, you need to be able to read them. He’s been elevating you this whole time, hoping that you gain the confidence to stand by his side one day. And when that day comes, he’ll propose to you in a way that feels so natural, you won’t hesitate to accept. If you see him smiling at you over nothing, that’s what he’s thinking about. You’re going to be this nation’s most beloved queen one day, and he can’t wait for it to come.

The night of your wedding, he will carry you to his chambers to consummate it. He doesn’t think of it as a duty wherein he needs to produce heirs, but something he’s been wanting to do for ages. Starting a family with you, if he didn’t already get you pregnant from all the unprotected sex he’s been having with you for months. But tradition is tradition, and there won’t be another opportunity as romantic as this. You’ll be ravished all night, taking him until your insides ache and you get sick of his taste. He has a penchant for all kinds of sex, but combined with his ox-like stamina and insatiable appetite, he could go at it forever.

Mathias would want to reincarnate by your side, finding you again and again in endless rebirths. In the dark ages where life is short and death is always near, having you just once isn’t enough. So after conquering the mortal world and making it perfect for you, he will search for answers to the question that needs answering. What comes after death, and if you’ll be there, waiting for him. It’s strange. He has dreams of having different lives, each more vivid than the last. Sometimes a dashing prince, other times, a champion boxer. He doesn’t understand what he experiences, but the thing about dreams is that they always make sense when he’s in them. So maybe, it’ll come to him one day, even if it’s thousands of years later.

#thank you to everyone who were willing to pay for early access 🥲❤️#I’m always broke so #Go stream Gods and Monsters by Lana Del Rey 💓#As well as Princess of China and Legendary Lovers 😭#alfredosauce50 #update #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia #hetalia x reader #hetalia fanfic #axis powers hetalia #Denmark x reader #aph Denmark #yandere #headcanons #king Denmark #historical

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stealingpotatoes · 5 months

Note

The golden rule of Legends is when it’s good, it’s GOOD (re: KOTOR games, original Thrawn books).

… Unfortunately for the most part, a lot of it is a disconnected, confusing screaming mess and it scares me.

Also, for the love of all that is holy, do not read any of Karen Traviss’ stuff.

incredible, also dw I'll probably end up avoiding their stuff by just not reading any legends LMAO

#i can get star wars fanfic on the internet for free #which is vastly better in experience bc i can yell compliments at the author (who may've seen god. goin off their skills) for 200 paragraph #and often probs better in quality too #thanks for the ask!

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msgexymunson · 2 years

Note

Requests

- Eddie and reader have sex in the library

Ooh your wish is my command!

Dom!Eddie x Sub!Fem!Reader

Warnings- NSFW, porn without plot, p in v unprotected sex (use your head guys and gals), biting, the tiniest mention of blood, established relationship, pet names (baby girl) reader uses she/her pronouns, sex in public place, Minors DNI or crocodiles will bite your toes off.

600 words

Masterlist

"What did I say? You gotta be quiet baby girl."

You stifle a moan, eyebrows scrunched, biting your lip so hard it's painful. Eddie's rigid cock is pushing into you painfully slow, slipping into your tight wet cunt.

You're pushed up against the library shelves at the far corner, face flush against the book spines, fluorescent strip lighting flickering overhead. Your skirt is bunched up to your waist; Eddie's jeans pushed out of the way just under his ass. The velvety drag of his dick on your convulsing walls is all you can think about.

"I-I know Eds, fuck, I'm tryin," you whine back at him.

"Well try harder baby girl, unless you wanna get caught." He whisper huffs into your ear. "Can't give you what you want unless you're quiet for me."

"I'm good Eddie, baby, I'll be quiet, just please go faster, please." Breath leaving your mouth as low as you can.

Pushing into you harder and faster, one hand pressing bruises into your waist, the other holding your knee up. The shelves are rattling softly, his member reaching deep into you. The feeling is electric, all powerful. A tear escapes your eye, trying so, so hard to be good for him. Whining and moaning, you're so close.

Suddenly he slows down again. You pout and huff in frustration.

"What did I just say?" Eddie whispers, an edge to his voice.

"I'm sorry Ed's I-"

He grabs your hand and places it on your raised knee.

"Hold this here for me." You obey immediately, trying not to think about the burning sensation in your thigh.

Eddie's hand comes up to your mouth and he presses the heel of his thumb to your lips.

"Open." You open your mouth, his hand presses against you, the fleshy part of his thumb grazing your teeth.

"Now bite down if it gets too much."

Without any further warning Eddie sets a relentless rhythm, pounding into you. Gripping the bookcase with your free hand, you try to will the shelf to be silent.

Eddie grunts quietly into your neck, sucking a purple bruise, thrusts becoming more insistent, cock reaching even further inside you.

You bite down on his hand to avoid screaming his name, pure hedonism flowing through, blocking any fear of hurting him. Responding in kind, he moans into your flesh and bites down on your shoulder hard. The pain is electric and swiftly travels straight to your core.

Pleasure crests over you like a tidal wave, cunt gushing around him. The sloppy, wet, slapping noise of your pursuits echoing in the silent library. A metallic taste invades your mouth. Thrusting up into you hard and rattling the shelves, Eddie releases his cum deep in your pussy, the warm, throbbing feeling making you whimper into his hand.

Finally, you release your leg, letting it flop to the floor, the muscles in your thigh twitching. The feeling when he pulls out from your heat is almost too much. With nothing holding you up you nearly buckle to the floor, saved by Eddie's arms.

"Easy baby girl, I've got you." Placing you on a nearby chair. He pulls up his boxers and jeans, glancing at his hand.

"Holy shit, I'm bleeding." He waves his palm in your face. You can see the perfect indentation of your bite on his hand, and smeared blood where your canines had pressed just a little too hard.

"Oh shit Eds I'm sorry."

"Don't be, that's fuckin' metal." He beams, pressing a kiss to your lips.

#god i love him #i want to bite him #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #thanks for the ask!#ms gexy writes

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zenaidamacrouras1 · 18 days

Text

Hot Neighbor and the Sunshine Baby

by ZenaidaMacroura

Summary:

Five Times Steve and his daughter accidentally terrorized Bucky and his daughter, and then some times they managed to keep it together. A cutesy meet-ugly slowburn slice of life AU kidfic. May include: General childhood mess. Brief references to the less pleasant side effects associated with the proximity of children, including diapers, throwing up, and the indignities of gestating. No graphic childbirth or pregnancy (sorry if you're into that).

Thanks to @booksandabeer and TenMileStilts for beta/emotional counseling.

#I wrote another fucking fic #hold me #I was gonna post this tomorrow but fuck it #stucky fanfic #trans steve rogers #stucky au #Another Stucky AU thank god the world was really needing that #kidfic

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heeseuniki · 6 months

Text

only one (pair) | sunghoon

genre: fluff :]

warnings: none

one… two… three… you look up, noticing the tender dance of the gentle snowflakes through the air.

“the first snowfall this winter!” you tell sunghoon, your breath leaving behind a steamy trace.

“careful,” he says, “don’t slip.” reaching for your hand, he gasps. “why didn’t you tell me you weren’t wearing gloves?” he interrogates austerely.

“i didn’t think it would get this cold. plus, it’s a short way to the dorms,” you defend yourself. “stop looking at me like that!”

“well, don’t go around not wearing gloves in the beginning of december if you don’t want me to look at you like this,” he replies between furrowed eyebrows, trying not to smile. as he begins taking off his gloves, you look at him questioningly.

“wait! where are you going?” he shouts in the empty street, but you’ve already started running, trying your best to keep a distance between the two of you.

“catch me if you can!” you react, almost indiscernible, through a fit of laughter. unfortunately for you, though, everybody knows sunghoon is a much better runner, so catching up to you wasn’t the most difficult feat you could put him through.

hugging you from behind, he twirls you around, your joyful giggles filling the surrounding silence. barely back on your feet, he takes your left hand in his and places his glove on it. “if you don’t want to take them both, then at least have one.”

accepting defeat, you wouldn’t have been able to fight back, appreciative of his gentlemanly consideration. still, feeling guilty, you begin to wonder about his other hand. after all, you could have managed without his one lent glove.

not one second after your thought occupies your mind, though, you feel his fingers intertwining with yours. "here, this way, we can both have warm hands," he states, smiling shyly at you, not one for romantic gestures.

"well then, maybe i'll stop bringing my gloves altogether," sly, you look him in the eyes, with a teasing, satisfactory grin.

“i would advise against that, but i can’t force you to do anything. after all, i have only one lover to look out for, don’t i?”

#enhypen #enhypen imagine #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen scenario #sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fanfic #haven’t written anything in a while #hope you like it #thank you for reading!!#i’ve been meaning to write this for so long my god #<3

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blu3-j · 1 year

Text

Jewelry & Puppy Eyes

Jewelry Wearing! Reader x Wally

Tw: none

(Alright, side note, I’m making it so Barnaby occasionally calls you teacup in any fanfics he’s in now. Yes, they are a breed of dog. So tiny. So adorable. Just like you!)

Oooh, Wally likes you~! And during one of your walks with your best friend, you drop a ring! Wally reaches down for it and attempts to hand it to you—but what’s this? Julie and Sally notice?! Oh, my! What hijinks are going to occur next?

It was another sunny, peaceful day. Originally, you had planned to stay at home all day and work on your latest hobby. However, soon after Eddie popped by early in the morning with your mail in hand, Wally appeared knocking at your door with a picnic basket in hand. He was such an early bird on some days, and today seemed to be one of them.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Wally chirped in his monotone voice. You were embarrassed, to say the least, that Wally was seeing you in such a state. You weren’t much of a morning person, only having woken up about 10 minutes ago to answer Eddie’s knock. Your hair was tangled, clothes disheveled, and the ghost line of drool that had dribbled down your chin while you were asleep had yet to be wiped off yet. Wally observed your appearance for a moment, looking up and down, before he continued. “Oh, did I come too early?” Blush dusted your cheeks, and you chuckled, mumbling a sheepish “yeah.” He held the basket in front of him. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I got a bit too excited to see you.” His robotic laughter filled the morning. “I wanted to give you this.” He handed you the basket excitedly. Upon peeking inside, there were a few flowers, and a small painting of a flower field. “I saw that flower field, and the flowers reminded me of you!” His posture straightened a little as his smile widened. “Oh, I wanted to ask you if you’ll accompany me later on a walk. Would you like to?”

A small rush of energy flowed through you, and you eagerly nodded. You had to guess you’ll find time later to work on your hobbies. At least you didn’t have to worry about bills in this new world. Or taxes. Or worry about paying for groceries at the store with anything except gossip, stories, crafts, and jokes. Money was no issue, it wasn’t even really a concept in this neighborhood.

The little yellow puppet rolled on his feet as he stared up at you. You watched as his pupils grew a small moment. It was something that happened often, especially when he was around you. The two of you had grown close over the time you’ve been here, and although it took a while, you eventually began to get used to his little quirks. Eating with his eyes, his pupils able to grow and shrink, his staring, and even his strange ability to completely shroud his face in darkness except for his eyes no matter what lighting he was in. You barely even took notice of how monotone his voice and laughter are anymore. They were all normal to you by now. Some of it was even considered a bit endearing, in a strange way. You still remember what Barnaby had taught you what some of it meant.

“Barnaby?” The large dog looked down to you before pulling his pipe out of his mouth.

“What’s up, teacup?”

“I’ve noticed Wally’s eyes sometimes grow. What does that mean?”

His mouth curled up a smidge. “Well, that could mean many things,” he started. “It could mean that he’s eaten something, it could mean that he’s happy, or sometimes it could mean that whoever he’s looking at with ‘em is someone he really adores.” His belly rumbled with soft laughter as he looked to you in the corner of his eye. “Maybe my little buddy has someone he really likes.” He shrugged, looking away and putting his pipe back to his mouth and puffing. “Or maybe he just really likes food. I don’t blame the little guy.” He hummed, putting a paw to his chin. “A hot dog sounds really good right now. What do ya say, teacup? Wanna go get a hot dog? My treat!”

“Great!” Wally responded. You two took a minute to find a time, eventually settling on a few hours from now to let you wake up and get ready. He walked off blowing you an air kiss goodbye, and you found yourself blowing one back. Air kisses were something he had begun doing weeks ago, and he used it for many things. Excitement, adoration, hellos, goodbyes, and everything in between. After a few days, you decided to begin doing it back, knowing he was just excited to know something new and didn’t mean anything more to it. Even after he found out through some of the others that it was only reserved for special people and situations, he still kept doing it to you, and you to him. It was like your secret handshake.

The door clicked closed and you decided to take the time to get ready to face the day. Breakfast was quickly made, a shower was taken, and a colorful outfit was put on. A few of the others had all gotten together soon after you arrived to make you some colorful and unique clothing pieces as a “Welcome home” gift. Finally, you reached over to a shelf in your closet with your jewelry. Some rainbow clip-on earrings, your friendship bracelets Sally, Julie, Frank, and Eddie made you, and a ring. Frank was the most hesitant to give you his friendship bracelet he made for you, saying it was Julie’s idea, but you could tell through his eyes he loved seeing you wear it as much as the others did with theirs.

Right on time, a knock rapped through the door. Walking down the stairs, you saw through the window in your living room it was Wally. He glanced through the window and made eye contact with you as you walked down and waved. With a smile, you opened the door to him.

“Hello, again!” He piped. Then he held out his hand for you to take. You greeted him back and took his hand, leaving the house and closing the door after you. Wally liked holding people’s hands, but held his best friends’ hands the most.

The walk was calming and filled with joyous energy. The birds chirped song off in the distant woods, the other neighbors cheerfully went about their daily activities, occasionally greeting the two of you as they passed by, and the sky was clear and blue as day. Even the barely noticeable music—which was something extremely unexpected but normal here—was laid back and casual. The two of you occasionally struck conversation as you walked, with mainly you doing most of the talking while Wally gladly stared and listened.

Then you felt something slip from your finger. Oh no! Your ring! Wally was quick to notice, and let go of your hand to crouch down. He gingerly picked it up and held it up to you. You couldn’t help but smile and reach out for it when—

GASP!

Julie and Sally’s gasps were made obvious to you. Glancing over, the two girls had dropped all of the stage props they had been carrying and were staring with wide eyes at the scene in front of them. Oh, no. Julie held her face with her hands and Sally held closed fists towards the front of her face while their smiles grew and eyes began to sparkle. The quiet squeals from the two was what finally caught Wally’s attention. He looked to them, then back at you, to them, and finally settled on you. A small wrinkle appeared on his forehead, and he held up the ring to you once more.

“Oh my gosh! Wally are you proposing to Y/N?!” Sally exclaimed.

“Y/N, are you going to say yes?!” Julie continued.

“Are you two going to get married??!!” The two finished in unison.

You stammered back a step as your face flashed hot. “W-what?! No!” You looked down to Wally in desperation. But he only stared back at you. “I’m not going to marry you!” A chuckle escaped your lips as you continued, holding a hand to your face in exasperation. “We haven’t even gone on a single date, and I require a romantic relationship to last at least a few years before I even consider saying yes to that question! Wally’s not going to be my husband, you two.” You put your hands to your hips and glanced at the pair before noticing something in the corner of your eye. Wally’s pupils grew.

You spoke before you could even think of an answer. “Wally,” you deadpanned. “I’m not going to marry you.” His pupils continued to grow a tiny smidge and he widened his eyes so they shined in the sunlight, a small additional blush forming on his cheeks. Finally, he tilted his head cutely to the side. His puppy dog face. The same exact one Barnaby had taught him a while back—and a face you could almost never say no to. You tried everything you could. You tried to look away, you tried to ignore him, you even tried to wait it out until he gave up. But in the end, you couldn’t resist those adorable eyes.

You sighed. “Alright,” you slowly began. You thought for a moment to carefully decide your next words. “I’ll call you my husband on one of two conditions. One, you take me on a date. If it goes well, and we become a couple, wait a few years, and then you can ask and I may say yes. Two, we stay as friends, and I’ll call you my platonic husband.” His pupils grew even more, and he finally stood from his previous crouching position.

The girls watched in anticipation.

Romantic Option:

He stood up and gently grabbed your hand, putting the ring in your palm. But he didn’t let go of your hand.

“Okay!” He chirped. “Y/N…” For the first time, he looked away while he was talking to you. Only for a moment, though. “Will…” He hesitated. “Will you allow me to accompany you on a date?”

You sharply inhaled, and your face felt as if it was on fire. It most probably looked like you had been sunburned by now, you figured. Suddenly, it all made sense. The air kisses, the hand holding, the pupil growing, even the occasional gifts. Some he did with only you, or he did the most only when you were around. Even Barnaby hinted at it! Does that mean the others knew, too? Or was it just speculation? How did you never notice? How did you never put all the puzzle pieces together?

Wally continued to stare with anticipation, and tilted his head. You ignored the girls to the side as you stared back into his eyes.

He’s fun to be around, he’s patient, kind, compassionate, and while he may not always have thoughts behind those eyes of his, he’s always doing his best to understand and learn. And if you said no, then he most likely wouldn’t mind, and he wouldn’t push you on the matter any further.

What’s the harm in saying yes?

Time skip forward a few years, and there the two of you were. Happy and in love. You eventually moved in with Wally, and Home welcomed you with open doors. The two of you had done many things together. Painting, going on lovely picnic dates or dinner dates with romantic candles, hiking into the woods to look for a new wonder, slow-danced to love songs late into the evening, and cuddled close during movies and plays. It almost felt like a dream. Sure, the two of you had arguments like any other couple, and it wasn’t always rainbows and clear skies for the two of you, but you were happy, caring for each other, and still in love by the end.

The hill was steep, but it was no match to the two of you. You had walked up worse. Right at the top, Wally laid down a blanket and you set the basket to the side. The two of you talked away as you laid on the ground and gazed up at the clouds for hours. Finally, you noticed the orange and pink streaks in the sky. The day was already ending. As you looked back to Wally, he was no longer in the spot next to you. You got up and looked around, deciding to look behind the tree the two of you had set up your picnic next to. But he wasn’t there.

Then you turned around.

And there he was; on one knee, holding a small colorful box in his hands. You could see the streaks in the sky in his eyes. Your vision began to blur. Things were quiet. Nothing needed to be said. No fancy words, no extra loving gestures, just you and him on this quiet peaceful evening. Just like the first date he took you on. With the same look he gave you on the first day you met. The day he first asked you on a date.

“Will you?”

A hiccup escaped your breath. “Yes.”

Platonic Option:

He stood up and gently grabbed your hand, putting the ring in your palm. But he didn’t let go of your hand.

“That sounds nice.” His eyes closed halfway back to their normal half-lidded state. “Platonic husband. What is that?” His free hand reached for his chin.

“Uh, well,” you stammered out. “It’s basically where we’re still friends, but we have a special title for each other now. Kind of like a nickname. But it’s important that platonic is mentioned in the name. At least, until everyone knows what we mean by it. Platonic means that we’re friends, and nothing more.”

Wally hummed and nodded. “Can I be your platonic husband?”

“Sure, Wally.” A fond smile rested on your face.

Then you remembered the girls. Or more like they finally spoke up from being so silent. “Oh, oh! We should put together a platonic marriage!” Julie exclaimed. Before you could get another word in, Sally agreed and the two of them were dragging you and Wally off to plan the silly ceremony.

In the end, it was as dramatic and fancy as it could possibly get. Sally of course was the wedding officiant, with Julie being the flower girl. Barnaby was the best man, and Julie was also the maid of honor. It was nothing more than platonic, and everyone knew it, but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t yours and Wally’s special day. The setup looked as if it was out of a fairytale, and your outfits fit the setting. The ceremony went by quick, and you two even got to do typical wedding ceremony activities. You two ran down the aisle as everyone threw petals and confetti, you tossed a bouquet Julie had made just for you, you got to cut the first slice of cake, and you had an eventful after-party that lasted until sundown; filled with games, dancing, comedy acts, and more. You all ended it off with a sleepover at Julie’s house.

Photos of the event were kept dear to each of the neighbors, but especially for you and Wally. A photo of the two of you hung on a wall framed in both your homes. Truly, a day to never forget.

#welcome home #welcome home wally #wally darling #wally x you #wally darling fanfic #wally darling x reader #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x you #wally darling x viewer #fanfic #fanfiction #Hoo boy was this slightly stressful to write #I wrote it in front of my grandmother #Thank god she doesn't have the best sight #It's nothing bad #in fact it's all extremely wholesome #but I don't want her to know I'm writing these regardless #blu3 j's welcome home fanfics

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