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luffington · 2 months ago

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hihi, how are u⁉️ may i request jealous crocodile and/or doflamingo smut? i am OBSESSED w ur fur & feathers story, you’re an amazing writer!! thank you sm 🙏🫶💓‼️

➤ pairing: sir crocodile x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.6k

➤ warnings: dom!crocodile, possessive behavior, spanking, degradation, praise, belly bulge, overstimulation, mentioned breeding kink, established relationship, fem reader

aww i'm glad you like it! i decided to give crocodile some love since i already have a few fics about doffy :3 i had really bad horny brainrot writing this he drives me insane

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Deciding not to join Baroque Works was your own choice, but you shouldn’t be suffering for it.

The crime syndicate’s leader and you had been in a relationship for quite a while. You’d long since accepted his dedication to his job and his workaholic tendencies – a serious job required someone just as serious. But recently, it had gotten to be too much.

He spent sixteen hours a day holed up in his office, pouring over documents and answering calls and meeting with Miss All Sunday. Grunted quiet greetings when he came home at night, climbing into bed beside you then falling asleep immediately. He’d barely said three words to you all week.

You were jealous of the fucking Transponder Snail for how much attention it got. It was time to take matters into your own hands.

So you put on your sluttiest dress, a nice pair of heels, and flashy diamond earrings, then wandered around the massive Rain Dinners casino looking for easy prey. You settled on a drunk average-looking man with a winning streak at roulette. He openly ogled your body as you approached, and smirked lecherously when you asked if the empty seat on his left was taken.

The man clearly wasn’t a local. He didn’t recognize you, even though you weren’t shy about hanging onto Crocodile’s arm in public. And he was much too stupid to notice the casino staff’s constant nervous glances. While laughing and holding your drink, you brushed a flirty hand over his shoulder and pressed your body against him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Crocodile emerge from the staff-only hallway to survey the room. Everything about him commanded attention – his abnormal height, his expensive clothes, his intimidating presence. In a flash, he materialized behind you. Half of his body was still reforming from a whirling sandstorm. Menacing golden eyes shone down at you, but his expression was eerily blank.

The entire casino fell silent. Everyone’s focus was on you.

Crocodile exhaled a pungent cloud of cigar smoke. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Bullshit. He’d hardly looked at you at all for nearly two weeks. Ignoring the shivers running down your spine, you decided to continue taunting him.

“I’m watching my good friend here play roulette! He’s very lucky, he might take all your money home with him.” You didn’t even remember the man’s name, but you lied with a cheeky grin and firmly patted his thigh twice.

Much too friendly for Crocodile’s liking.

Your lover’s eyes narrowed in on the empty martini glass in front of you. “How many of those have you had?”

“I dunno, three? Four?” You turned to the stranger with a saccharine smile. “Were you keeping count?”

The man was frozen in place, terrified into silence at the sight of the eight foot tall Warlord towering above him. His all-consuming fear made him seem like a small animal staring into a Bananawani’s open jaws.

“You’re drunk. You should sit down.” Crocodile’s tone was steady but dangerous. Always aware of his public image, his carefully chosen words made him seem like the perfect gentleman.

“But I am sit–“

A murderous glare cut you off mid-sentence. You realized you’d taken your bratty act as far as it could go – any more might be threatening to your well-being. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you rose from your seat and automatically moved to his side. Tucked yourself into the folds of his coat, choosing to look down at your heels rather than his face.

“Make yourself comfortable in my office, darling.” The Warlord patted your shoulder, causing you to flinch. His voice dropped an octave as he growled, “I’d like to speak to this lucky gentleman in private.”

Crocodile’s pristine office was unnervingly quiet. You took a seat on the plush couch facing his desk, nervously bouncing your legs and trying to calm your racing heartbeat. With the lights off, the room was only illuminated by the water surrounding it. Dark shadows of swimming Bananawani regularly moved across the walls. Silly little prey, willingly walking into their nest.

The door suddenly slammed shut behind you. Heavy footsteps slowly approached but you didn’t dare turn around. Rich cologne flooded your nostrils and his golden hook flashed in your peripheral vision.

Your lover stayed quiet, patiently biding his time until the silence finally got to you. Timidly, you asked, “What happened to that man?”

“What man?” Your lover cocked his head to the side, feigning ignorance. After a moment, a sadistic chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Oh, you mean the mummy in the back room. Let’s say he mysteriously disappeared.”

You whipped your head around with wide eyes. “You killed him for me?”

Oddly, you didn’t feel bad about it – that man was a creep. Getting rid of him was probably a blessing for the women of Alabasta.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you, dear.” He sounded sincere, but then leaned down and fiercely whispered, “Except play this stupid game of yours. I like showing you off, not sharing you.”

Soft breath tickled your cheek and the fur lining of his coat brushed against your skin. You felt a fire ignite in your core – he was irresistibly sexy when he became possessive (well, more possessive than usual).

“Have I done something to upset you?” Crocodile kissed and licked down the column of your neck. “Or were you taunting me for fun?”

“Y-You’ve been so busy lately, I was–” The word ‘lonely’ died on your lips when he sunk his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Oh, my poor dear. Are you feeling neglected?” He cooed when you shyly nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to the bite mark. “I’m very sorry. Work’s been out of control recently, but everything will settle down soon. You have my attention now.”

The tip of his hook slid under your dress’s thin shoulder strap, then cleanly tore through it. He repeated the action on the other side until the torn fabric slipped down to reveal your bare breasts.

“Not even wearing a bra?” Your lover clicked his tongue, roughly cupping and caressing your right boob then smacking the soft flesh. “If that man looked down your dress, then his death sentence was too lenient. I should’ve tortured him.”

“You’re so scary,” you giggled, letting your head fall back against his sturdy chest with a content sigh. Grainy fingers traced your areola then rubbed over your hardened nipples. Thankfully, you knew you’d never experience the true extent of his wrath – he adored you.

Without warning, he wrapped his cold hook around your throat. The proximity of its sharp edge to such a dangerous area made your hair stand on end.

“Bend over my desk,” he commanded, gently nipping your ear. “Darling.”

You stumbled over to the enormous desk, legs shaking from anticipation and arousal. Bracing your arms on the polished wood, you arched your back and presented your ass to him. The Warlord took a moment to admire the view, amused by your visible impatience.

“I bought you these,” Crocodile drawled, tracing the waistband of your silky panties with the curved back of his hook. You never saw their price tag, but they felt expensive. He poked your earlobe. “I bought you those earrings, too. They cost more berry than that pathetic man could ever make. Everything about you belongs to me – seems like I have to remind you.”

A large hand came down on your ass hard, jiggling the soft flesh and making you cry out in delight. The collection of rings on his fingers added a delicious extra sting. Three more spanks followed rapidly in the same spot, then four on the other cheek until every part of your ass ached.

Crocodile snickered when you rubbed your thighs together like an animal in heat. A wet spot had already dampened your panties. “Silly little slut. If you wanted to be spanked, you should’ve just asked. No need for all the theatrics.”

“Didn’t have a chance to since you were talking to that Snail all fucking day.” Your petulant mumble quickly turned into a yelp when his hand brutally struck the crease of your thighs. Making sure you’d feel the sting every time you sat down. He grabbed the roots of your hair and yanked your head back.

“Watch your tone,” Crocodile growled. The Warlord released you, catching you before your limp body hit the desk and easily flipped you onto your back. A wicked smirk almost as wide as his scar spread across his face. He hungrily observed your body like a predator about to pounce.

He pulled down your panties with an unnerving carefulness – he didn’t want to damage his property, after all. Then he roughly spanked your bare pussy. Your surprised cry of pain echoed throughout the empty room. Satisfied with your reaction, he did it again and again until your folds turned puffy.

Crocodile spread your cunt using the back of his hook so he could land a direct hit on your sensitive clit. The impact on your bundle of nerves sent electric shocks throughout your body, your back arching painfully off the table. Your lover chuckled and swiped two fingers through your drenched folds.

“Who else can make you this wet?” Crocodile webbed your juices between his fingers before bringing them to your lips. Obediently opening your mouth, you suckled and swirled your tongue around them. Paying extra attention to his rings, making sure the precious jewels shined with your spit. Though it was a rhetorical question, he pulled his fingers out to hear your response.

“No one.” You answered honestly, your eyes dilated with lust and chest heaving. “Just you.”

“You’re damn right.” Crocodile unlatched his belt, letting his trousers hit the floor with a metallic clang. His enormous dick smacked against his pelvis, rock hard and leaking pearly precum. You unconsciously licked your lips at the sight. “Can’t let another cock can satisfy you, either. I need to ruin you for anyone else.”

Demanding you to look directly at him, he lined up his tip with your hole and thrust his hips forward. Slowly at first – his massive cock often met resistance in your tiny cunt – but after the first few inches, he slammed the entire length inside. Knocking all the air out of your lungs, your head lolling back on the desk. Crocodile stayed like that, appreciating the pretty bulge in your belly.

“Crocodile, please…”

“My name sounds perfect on your lips.” That predatory gaze was back, the need to possess you overwhelming his thoughts. Your lover pulled back until only the tip remained in your dripping pussy, then harshly rammed his dick in all the way.

Quickly setting a rough pace, Crocodile palmed at your tits with rough hands then leaned into the crook of your neck, whispering a dizzying mix of praise and degrading phrases. All of your coherent thoughts vanished from your brain.

You clutched onto his coat to ground yourself, to not get lost in the sea of pleasure washing over you. His cock was too fucking big. Too fucking good. It bullied its way inside your wet walls, permanently reshaping them to the perfect fit as he called you his pretty little cocksleeve.

Over a week’s worth of pent-up sexual urges were quickly coming to a head. Crocodile knew your body so well that he immediately recognized the signs of your impending orgasm. He reached his hand between your bodies to rub circles on your clit, pinching and pulling the sensitive nub for good measure.

“H-Holy fuck, ahhh, shit, I’m gonna…”

The Warlord smirked cruelly and paused his movements with his cock halfway inside you. “Apologize for being a brat. For even looking at that worthless man.”

If you had a stronger resolve, you could’ve kept this game going even longer. Asked him to apologize for ignoring you. Maybe even gotten a few more spanks out of it. But you needed to cum, and you desperately needed his giant cock to move.

“I’m sorry,” you panted desperately. “I won’t be bratty anymore, I promise. You’re the only man I’ll ever want. I’ll do anything, just – please, please, let me cum.”

“Very good girl.” Crocodile rewarded you by sensually rolling his hips to stir your insides around. Snickering, he admitted, “Although, I do enjoy when you act up every once in a while. You’re especially sexy when you submit to me.”

Your lover resumed fucking you hard enough to make the desk creak. Legs shaking with every thrust, your eyes were unfocused and the only thought in your head was how full you felt. Looking down, you dreamily watched the bump in your stomach move up and down as his dick rearranged your guts.

“Scream my name loud enough for the entire casino to hear when you cum. Let them know who owns you.”

Just one scream wasn’t enough for you – you chanted his name like a prayer as your orgasm hit you in full force. Juices gushed around Crocodile’s cock and dripped down his balls. He lazily fondled your clit to help you through it, only pulling away once the aftershocks had subsided. You lay limply on the desk, face flushed and chest heaving.

Belatedly, you realized that Crocodile hadn’t budged. A concerning sign.

“You… you didn’t cum?”

“This soon? Of course not. I didn’t commit murder for one measly orgasm,” he chuckled. “Evidently, I have a lot of lost time to make up for. Your cunt better be prepared.”

“W-wait, give me a minute –”

“No, dear, you were right. I spent too much time ignoring you. You deserve all my love.” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that knocked his mushroom tip against your cervix. “And affection.” Another thrust. “And every inch of my cock.”

Filthy squelching sounds and your lover’s balls slapping against your ass accompanied your overwhelmed scream. Tears pricked at your eyes as he increased his pace, your brain becoming as mushy as your cunt.

“Such a perfect pussy. Only a real man like me can treat it properly.” Crocodile murmured smugly. Leaning down to press his body flush against yours, his muscular pecs squished against your tits. His normally slicked-back hair was coming undone, strands sticking to his forehead from sweat. Dizzying pleasure washed over you when his fingers found your clit again.

Crocodile felt his balls tighten, but held himself back from the edge by slowing down to a relaxed grind, focusing all of his attention on you. You fucking lost your mind when he spelled each letter of his name on your sensitive bundle of nerves. A second orgasm washed over you in a bright light, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you murmured absolute nonsense mixed with cries of his name.

Your cunt clamping down on his cock like a vice sent him over the edge. At the very last second, Crocodile pulled out to spurt thick stripes of cum across your stomach. With a deep, satisfied groan, he jerked himself to completion until your skin was painted white. Fully marking you as his own.

Satisfaction and exhaustion made your eyes flutter shut, but Crocodile ensured you stayed awake by giving you a surprisingly tender forehead kiss. Cradling your cheek, he asked, “Feel better?”

“My ass hurts, but yes. I feel great.” You nodded with a fucked-out grin, chasing his lips for a real kiss which he eagerly granted.

“Good. As pretty as you look covered in my cum, the next load is going inside you. I need to fuck a baby into my beautiful girl.”

His next load? Your eyes widened when he began stroking his cock again, still soft but beginning to twitch with interest. Turning your head, you met the downward-turned eyestalks of his shut-off Transponder Snail.

#bananawani comparison bc it's what he would've wanted #sir crocodile smut #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile imagine #crocodile smut #dom!crocodile #crocodile x reader #crocodile imagine #one piece smut #one piece x reader #sir crocodile #crocodile #request #anon #mine #my fics #croc

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months ago

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Ma'am IV

Aitana Bonmatí x Royal!Reader

Summary: There's a lot of security

"Is it just me or was it so difficult to find a parking spot today?" Marta asked as she and Caro came into the locker room," There's a bunch of black SUVs everywhere plus some flashy red sports car."

"There's a bunch of guys in suits checking out the place," Irene said, hanging up her jacket and changing into the training shirt," I saw them earlier."

"Maybe they're like undercover police officers?" Keira offered up," Maybe they busted some drug ring?"

"At our club?" Patri dismissed, one brow lifted in judgement," We're not the mob, Keira."

"I don't know," Pina teased," It would be one way to sort out our money situation."

"It's not police and we're not the mob," Alexia said in greeting, straight from a meeting. She returned to her cubby, switching out her shirt for her training jersey and scraping her hair back into a ponytail.

"Do you know something about this?"

"Yes. I do."

Silence for a moment.

"Do you want to share it?"

Alexia shrugged, head jerking across the room. "Why don't you ask Aitana?"

In sync, everyone turned to look at Aitana, who shrunk a little under the weight of all the stares.

"Aitana?" Keira asked," What's going on?"

"Well...I...I may have gotten married?"

"To the princess?!"

"Yes..."

"You got married? To the princess?"

"Keira, I just said that."

Keira slumped into her cubby, mouth hanging open. "Sorry, I just can't believe it. I mean...Wait, does this mean you're a princess now too?"

That was what set everyone else off, all the way from the changing onto the pitch.

The suited men were practically everywhere, stern looking, muscular men with earpieces in and eyes that pierced the soul.

"Are they going to be here the entire time?" Keira asked, head swivelling to count all of them.

"Not everyone," Aitana replied," Apparently they'll all be here for the first week, setting up perimeters and checking security and then it should go down."

"Should being the key word," You voice behind everyone caused a few people to shriek in shock, another two people jumping out of their skin.

For someone that travelled with so much security, you tended to appear out of nowhere.

"But these guys can be a little overkill sometimes. You should have seen them checking out our new place. They kept us in the car for nearly three hours. I nearly got heatstroke."

"We wouldn't have let that happen, Ma'am," The tallest, most muscular looking of the assembled security said.

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, sure."

Aitana let out a huff of amusement. "I thought you were in meetings today."

"They ended. I wanted to see you."

"You saw me a few hours ago."

You pouted. "What? I can't miss my wife now?"

"You're very clingy," Aitana said even as she moved into your arms, pulling your arms over her shoulders and resting her head on your chest.

"Yes, I know. It's my most appealing attribute."

"She's the clingy one?" Keira muttered as Aitana adjusted your arms so they drew her closer.

"They're just as bad as each other," Pina said back," How long until this marriage thing blows up? I thought royal weddings were meant to be massive."

"It was an elopement," You said, mouth curving into a grin when Pina and Keira realised you could hear their mutterings," But I'm sure there'll be an official announcement. I think my father is thinking 'small and intimate' for it. Something like 'done with close friends and family'." You shrugged. "You know, something official sounding rather than..."

"Rather than random beach in Greece."

"Greece?" Pina asked," Sounds romantic."

"So romantic," You told her earnestly," Especially when Aitana did this thing with her-"

Your wife's hand clamped over your mouth and you fell silent.

"Random beach in Greece?" Keira said, looking straight at Aitana with a raised brow.

Aitana's face turned red. "It was very romantic."

#woso x reader #aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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bones4thecats · 3 months ago

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Their S/O Being Based on Deadpool (MCU)

Characters: Kagaya Ubuyashiki, Tengen Uzui, and Shinobu Kocho Inspired By: The new Deadpool movie A/N: The Reader is female in Kagaya's part since he does have children. Other than that, have fun! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of spousal death in Tengen's part and threatening with a sword in Shinobu's ⚠️

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Kagaya Ubuyashiki ════════════════════════╝

🌸 When the Hashira had a meeting about Tanjiro, they were shocked to see you dangling upside down from the ceiling of the Ubuyashiki mansion, your eyes closed as you smiled underneath your mask

🌸 They knew that you were basically the polar opposite from your husband, but they didn't imagine it to this degree!

🌸 You landed on the ground and adjusted your dual nichirin swords before walking up and kissing your husband's head, making his gentle smile enlarge

"It is good to have you here once again, my love."

"It's good to be back, Kagaya. So, what's been happening while I've been gone?"

🌸 As your daughters explained everything to you, you noticed how the Hashira acted while Tanjiro laid there with confusion and slight fear in his eyes. He must be worried about this demon sister of his, how odd...

🌸 Kagaya merely nodded along with the girls and begin the whole scenario, being unaware when the young slayer jumped up and smashed his head against Sanemi when he attacked his sister in the box

🌸 To be fair, you would've done the same

🌸 As the whole ordeal ended, you looked at your husband and lightly grabbed his hand, and since you had taken your gloves off he could feel your slightly deformed skin with ease

🌸 You closed your eyes and leaned your forehead against his, making Kagaya sigh while the girls ran off to check in with your old friend and husband's caretaker, Amane Himorogi

🌸 While you picked up your husband and carried him back to your room, knowing he was going to have to take some medications here soon to help out with his worsening condition, and began to tell him about what happened during your nearly month-long mission to a town many miles away north

🌸 And as you recanted everything that happened, Kagaya noticed how you yawned and began to adjust yourself behind him before you stopped talking all together

🌸 Oh how he wished he could see your cute sleeping face like he could back when you both were younger... no matter, he'll see it once again someday

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Tengen Uzui ════════════════════════════╝

🔊 Your flashiness and his literally was the thing that drove you guys to speak a lot more

🔊 From your home lives, his being raised as a shinobi to yours being raised as a soldier serving an old -and now dead- clan, you guys just clicked. And it annoyed almost everyone

🔊 When he was about to head off for his mission to the Entertainment District, he had asked you if any letters from your wives had come through

🔊 You sighed sadly and stopped sharpening your blades, setting them down on the ground before standing up and hugging your husband, giving him your answer non-verbally, which was far from your normal nature. It was obvious this was affecting you just as much as him

🔊 Unlike Tengen, you had already lost a spouse just a few months after your marriage, so when you heard no word from your new wives, you just about lost your mind with the memories of your ex's death passing through

"I'll take this as a no." Tengen said, raising his hand to rub your back in a comforting motion.

"You'd be right."

"Damn. I hoped I wouldn't have to go. I don't want to leave you here alone."

"Tengen, I'll be fine. I have my friend's tsuguko and his strong-as-hell self here. Don't worry. No demon is getting past us, promise."

🔊 The Sound Hashira chuckled as you mentioned the young woman, while you rarely taught her, due to her breathing style being more of a explosion-force nature and not based on pure chaos like yours, you did treat her like a teacher would a student

🔊 Looking down at your masked face, Tengen lightly gripped the edges and pulled it up, allowing him a view of your lips and the ability to kiss them

🔊 As he raised his head once more and adjusted your mask back in place, the Hashira looked into your eyes and said his goodbyes

"Tengen. You better find the girls. If you don't, I'm not going to ever forgive you."

"Understood, dearie! See ya!"

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Shinobu Kocho ══════════════════════════╝

🦋 Shinobu and you were fairly different. She was always smiling and being kind to others while you were a lot less expressive (since you literally wore a mask everywhere) and more sarcastic/uncaring

🦋 She knew that you could care less for a majority of the world's safety, since you came from a rough home and had an even rougher growth, but the way you defended the very small amount of people you cared for was amazing

🦋 One day, you noticed that Kanao was a bit down, but instead of ignoring her like with pretty much everyone else, you sat down next to her and asked her what was up

🦋 Your longtime girlfriend just so happened to walk by and see how you let her lean against you and rest for a little bit. It was a sweet sight for her

🦋 Shinobu also liked to see how you attempted to be quiet and gentle with the butterflies around the mansion. Whenever one landed on you during your first few months there, you would normally squash them without a care, but now you would let them stand on you without a glance

🦋 And while you kept your more polite nature up for a while, when you were called for the meeting to speak about Tanjiro, who you just so happened to journey with for a bit, and saw how Sanemi had stabbed Nezuko's box... you snapped

🦋 Gripping your swords, you launched yourself forward before stopping abruptly, a huge gust of wind blowing in your fellow slayer's face

🦋 Sanemi stood there shocked as your glared at him strongly, ignoring the words of the others behind you

"Put the box down, Sanemi. Or else I may just have to treat you like the demon I slayed a few hours ago."

"Y/N. Calm down," Shinobu said.

"Not until he puts the little girl down."

🦋 Shinobu watched as Sanemi laid the box down next to you, allowing you to pick it up and lay it in the shade of the Ubuyashiki Estate. Though, you didn't move away from it, preferring to sit down next to it in an effort to relax the kind demon inside from the pain

🦋 The Butterfly-loving slayer kept her smile up, though there was an obvious sadness in her eyes as she observed you. You must have seen one of your past allies in her... like how she remembered Kanae when Mitsuri would smile sometimes

🦋 When the meeting ended, Shinobu had approached you, and instead of asking you why you threatened Sanemi, she just held your hand and ushered you back to the Butterfly Mansion kindly

"...Are you upset at me for that?" You asked.

"Oh beyond upset, but we must focus on the new slayers for now."

🦋 Oh you were in for it later...

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mononijikayu · 1 month ago

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loml — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

Satoru, leaning back with a gentle sigh, broke the silence. "I think... I’ve fallen in love with them." he confessed, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. He looked at Suguru. “Gen–senpai.” Suguru turned his head slightly, his dark purple eyes finding Satoru’s, a hint of surprise flickering across his features. He didn’t speak right away, but then, slowly, a quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. He smiled against his shoulder. “Yeah… I have too.”

WARNING/S: pre-hidden inventory arc, post hidden inventory arc, domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORDS: 12.5k words.

NOTE: i ended up thinking about this for a while. i think i wanted something that's satosugu focused that is related to the main story of us and them. and i think it was way more perfect like this. i think that's just how it is with stories in between us and them coded, you know??? anyway, i hope you enjoy it anyway. i just wanted to get it off my mind!!!! i love you all, see you in the next story <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

YOU WERE READY. The air around you crackled with cursed energy, thick and oppressive as it swirled between the high-rise buildings of Tokyo. The cursed spirit looming before you was grotesque, a monstrous thing with far too many eyes and limbs jutting out at unnatural angles. Its twisted form made your skin crawl, its movements erratic as it lashed out, causing havoc in the streets.

You shifted your stance, preparing for the next strike, your eyes scanning the chaos around you. Despite the carnage, your focus wasn’t just on the spirit. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted someone standing a few feet away.

He looked… off. His usually neat, smooth hair was fraying at the ends, loose strands sticking out from the messy bun he usually wore. His dark blue Jujutsu uniform was tattered and streaked with dirt, his face marked with fatigue. There was a haunted, weary look in his eyes.

He wasn’t his usual self, that much was clear. The "I've been through some stuff" energy radiated from him like a second skin. You could see the wear of battle etched into his features, the faint tremor in his hands as he stood, catching his breath. This wasn’t someone you remembered.

Ah, he was a first year student.

"Alright, first year." you called out, adjusting your grip on your yari spear. "Looks like I’ll finish this off."

You lunged forward, aiming for the cursed spirit’s core, when—

"Wait! Stop! " Suguru suddenly yelled, nearly tripping over himself to get in front of you, arms flailing.

You skidded to a stop just before the spear tip met cursed flesh. Blinking in confusion, you watched as the first year frantically gestured for you to back off. "I have to consume it."

"...Consume it?"

"Yeah." He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "It's kinda my thing."

You stared at him. This guy was the new first-year? Your kouhai? "Alright... I guess that’s something." You lowered your spear reluctantly, watching the younger boy as he took a deep breath, about to do his curse-consumption thing.

Before he could make a move, though, a familiar voice echoed from behind. "Uncool, Suguru. So uncool."

You didn’t even need to turn to know who it was. Gojo Satoru, in all his flashy glory, strolled into view. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his sunglasses sitting lazily on his face, and a smirk that screamed I-know-everything-better-than-you plastered across his features. Ah, this one you remembered too well.

The younger boy, Suguru, groaned, his expression dropping faster than the cursed spirit could regenerate its limbs. "Satoru, not now."

"Oh no, now's the perfect time!" Gojo said, waving dramatically. "Imagine it! Big, heroic finish, and then boom! You, standing there... eating the curse? So uncool, dude. Eat it later!"

Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's not like I have a choice. It’s literally my technique."

"Yeah, but couldn’t you, like, exorcise it or something first? Make it cooler?" Gojo shrugged, shooting you a thumbs-up like you were both in on some inside joke. "You get what I mean, right?"

You glanced at Suguru, then at Gojo, back at Suguru—who, despite his calm demeanor, looked like he wanted to punch Gojo in his perfect teeth. "Uh, sure." you offered, trying not to laugh. "You could at least add some flair to it?"

"See?" Gojo said triumphantly. "The senpai agrees with me!"

Suguru groaned louder this time, side-eyeing you with an "I-can't-believe-this" look. "You’re not helping."

"Just saying!" Gojo continued, "if I were you, I'd finish it with style. Maybe spin around, give a little dramatic speech, then eat the curse."

Suguru ignored him, clearly over the theatrics, and raised his hand, muttering something under his breath. The cursed spirit let out one final, unsettling screech before being sucked into his palm in an anticlimactic puff.

"See?" Gojo chimed in again, arms spread wide. "Boring."

"Shut. Up." Suguru shot back, though his face was starting to crack into a small smile despite himself.

You couldn't help it anymore—you burst out snickered. "You two are something else."

Gojo grinned, basking in the chaos he’d created, while Suguru shook his head, walking off with a quiet sigh, muttering about how he "should’ve stayed home today."

"Hey, wait up!" Gojo yelled after him. "Let’s grab ramen! You can cry into your bowl about how uncool you are!"

You glanced at your yari, wondering why you ever thought cursed spirits were the hardest thing to deal with today.

THIS WASN’T THE USUAL WAY YOU WOULD BE HERE. You usually ate alone. So it was quite a surprise from the ramen house that you asked for a table of four. The familiar scent of ramen wafted through the small shop, warm and inviting as you took your usual seat near the window.

It had been a long day, but the evening promised something interesting—meeting the new first-year students of Tokyo Jujutsu High. Special-grade sorcerers, at that. You had already been briefed that they were joining the ranks alongside you and Yuki Tsukumo, which was a rarity in itself. It was only fitting to see who these up-and-coming powerhouses were. You called Yuki about it and she raved about wanting to see you more than the younger ones. But you supposed it's just because she missed you.

You heard them before you saw them.

"I’m telling you, you don’t need to use that technique so recklessly!" came a voice that could only belong to someone with zero filter—Gojo Satoru, if you remembered correctly.

"And I’m telling you, you don’t need to be so reckless in general." another voice retorted—Geto Suguru, calm but undeniably exasperated.

The door swung open, and in they came. Gojo Satoru, all energy and loud confidence, sauntered in first with that infamous swagger, followed closely by Geto Suguru, who looked as though he'd spent the entire walk here contemplating how to silence Gojo for good. Behind them was Ieiri Shoko, who was a bit quiet and composed, giving them both the same look you often gave people who were trying too hard. They had gone back to their accommodation and changed clothes first.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. Watching Gojo and Geto bicker reminded you so much of Namie and Kaiko. The way they would argue over the smallest details, turning even a simple walk into a battlefield of egos, was something you had long learned to endure. And here they were, in front of you, a new generation—but the dynamic was eerily familiar.

Shoko, on the other hand, seemed calm in the storm, much like yourself. She had that air of detachment, a stillness that balanced out the chaos around her. For a brief moment, you wondered if these three would get along with Namie and Kaiko. Gojo and Geto certainly matched their energy, and Shoko would probably enjoy some quiet conversation amidst the madness. The thought brought a small smile to your face.

“Oi, senpai!” Gojo’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He had already claimed the seat next to you, throwing an arm over the back of his chair like he owned the place. “We’re not late, are we? You didn’t order without us, right?”

Geto frowned. “Satoru, that’s rude! You shouldn’t be so informal with Zenin–senpai!”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry. You also don’t have to call me Zenin–senpai.”

“Then….”

“Just use Gen–senpai. Or whatever. I don’t really particularly care about hierarchy.”

Gojo grinned. “Then can I call you Gen, then?”

“Feel free.” You tell him, with a small smile.

“Aha! Then I will!”

“You also aren’t late, don’t worry.” you replied, holding back a chuckle. “And I was just thinking how the three of you remind me of some old friends.”

“Oh? I’m flattered.” Gojo leaned back, grinning smugly. “Must’ve been quite the group if they were anything like me.”

Geto rolled his eyes as he took the seat across from you. “I’m guessing they were probably nothing like you, Satoru.”

“See?” You chuckled, glancing between the two of them. Suguru noticed a small sliver of sadness in your eyes. “That’s exactly what I mean. You remind me of them too well.”

Gojo’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh, they sound like fun. Were they good-looking? Maybe I’ve got some competition.”

“Yeah.” you deadpanned for a bit. “Well….except they didn’t spend their entire day thinking about how cool they were.”

Suguru snorted at that, and even Shoko cracked a tiny smile as she took her seat.

“So, how’s it feel being special-grade sorcerers?” you asked, steering the conversation back on track, looking at Suguru and Satoru.

“Amazing!” Gojo replied without hesitation, flipping his sunglasses up to rest on his head. “But that’s just my natural state.”

Geto shot him a sideways glance. “Humility was never an option, was it?”

“Look who’s talking, Mr. 'I-can-consume-anything.’” Gojo grinned, waggling his fingers in mock imitation of Geto’s technique.

Shoko sighed, taking a slow sip of water. “It’s like babysitting.”

You smiled again, a strange warmth settling in your chest. These three were so young, and yet there was already something special about them—a camaraderie that, despite the constant bickering, spoke of deep bonds being forged. You could see them going far, together, just as you and your friends once had.

For a brief moment, the thought of Namie and Kaiko sitting around this very table, throwing playful jabs at each other, floated through your mind. You could almost hear their laughter mixing with the voices of Gojo, Geto, and Shoko. It was a fleeting but comforting image.

“They’d like you, I think.” you said softly, more to yourself than to anyone else.

“Huh? Who would?” Gojo asked, eyebrows raised.

“Old friends, the ones I was talking about.” you replied with a shrug, letting the nostalgia slip away. “You remind me of them. And I think you three would get along well.”

Suguru tilted his head slightly, catching the faint note of wistfulness in your voice, but didn’t press further. Gojo, of course, was already distracted by the arrival of his ramen, declaring it to be “the best in Tokyo, hands down!”

As the bowls of ramen arrived and the conversation continued, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. You had a feeling that these three would bring a whirlwind of change—just like the generation before them. And as chaotic as they seemed now, you knew they had something special, something that would take them far.

It was going to be an interesting journey ahead.

The steaming bowls of ramen were placed in front of each of you, and for a brief moment, the chatter paused as everyone seemed to savor the smell. You watched as Gojo Satoru practically dove into his bowl, using his chopsticks with a level of enthusiasm that was almost theatrical.

Geto Suguru, on the other hand, ate calmly, every movement deliberate, as though he were analyzing the flavors. Ieiri Shoko picked at hers lazily, more interested in observing the antics of her companions than actually eating. You couldn’t eat that much, you weren’t that hungry.

"Best in Tokyo, hands down!" Gojo proclaimed between slurps, noodles half-hanging from his mouth. "You really know your spots, Gen."

“Satoru, call them senpai, Gen–senpai.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Huh, what do you mean, nuh–uh?”

You smirked, taking a more modest sip of your broth. "I’ve been around. Knew you’d appreciate this place, though."

Geto raised an eyebrow, still focused on his bowl. "Appreciate it? I’m surprised he hasn’t asked to marry the chef yet."

Gojo leaned back, wiping his mouth with a dramatic flourish. "Who says I haven’t? Ramen this good deserves a lifelong commitment."

Shoko let out a quiet snort, her lips twitching into the ghost of a smile. "Pretty sure you wouldn’t last a week in a marriage. Too many noodle-related distractions."

"Hey, I’m capable of multi-tasking, Shoko." Gojo shot back, wagging his chopsticks in Shoko’s direction. "I could juggle ramen and romance. Watch me."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Watching the way they interacted, their personalities bouncing off each other like well-practiced banter, it was clear that, despite the joking and teasing, there was a connection here. Something deeper than the surface-level bickering. The kind of bond that would only strengthen over time.

Geto finished his bowl and set his chopsticks down with a soft sigh. "You’re ridiculous, Satoru."

"Ridiculously awesome, you mean." Gojo corrected, leaning back with a satisfied grin, clearly proud of himself.

"You know….." you started, leaning back in your chair as well. "It's good to see this. You three, I mean."

Gojo raised an eyebrow, now curious. "Good to see us?"

"Yeah." You nodded, glancing between the three of them. "Special-grade sorcerers, the strongest of your generation, yet here you are, acting like normal students. It’s nice to see the kids in you still be kids. It pleases me.”

Geto smiled, a little softer now. "We’re not always this... chaotic. Just when Satoru’s around."

Gojo held up a hand in mock protest. "I’m not the chaotic one! You guys are just too boring to keep up."

"Right, right…." Shoko muttered, taking another sip of her water. "Because you’re the epitome of normalcy."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Trust me, I’ve seen worse. But seeing you three like this reminds me of the old days. Back when my friends and I thought we were invincible too."

There was a brief pause, a fleeting moment of introspection that settled over the table. Gojo tilted his head, his usual playful expression giving way to something a bit more thoughtful. "Were you?"

"In a way, yeah," you admitted. "Or at least, we thought we were. Until….." You stopped.

Suguru’s gaze sharpened slightly, as if he understood where the conversation was heading. "You lost someone, didn’t you?"

You nodded, feeling the weight of those memories resurface. "We all did, eventually. It’s part of this life."

Gojo looked unusually quiet now, his chopsticks twirling between his fingers. "But you kept going, huh?"

"Had to. Have to." you replied with a faint smile. "Just like you will."

The heaviness lingered for a second longer before Gojo, in typical fashion, broke the silence. "Well, we’re not going anywhere anytime soon. I’m too good-looking to die young, you know?"

Suguru rolled his eyes, and Shoko’s deadpan expression returned. "That’s one way to look at it."

"Hey, I’m just keeping things light, Suguru!" Gojo grinned, his usual cockiness back in full force. "Besides, I’ve got big plans. No way am I letting a cursed spirit mess up this face."

You laughed, but the truth of the matter was still clear. These three—Gojo, Geto, and Ieiri—were in for a long road ahead. And even though they didn’t fully grasp it yet, they would one day understand the weight of their roles as sorcerers. They would carry their own losses, just as you and Yuki had. But for now, it was good to see them like this, carefree, in the moment, enjoying a simple bowl of ramen without the looming threat of the world crashing down on them.

As the meal wound down, the conversation drifted back into lighter territory. Gojo made exaggerated claims about his future as the “greatest sorcerer ever.” Suguru countered with dry remarks, and Shoko threw in the occasional sarcastic comment that kept them both in check.

You paid the bill and stood up, stretching your arms as you prepared to leave. "Well, I’ll see you all soon." you said, nodding toward the three of them. "Try not to kill each other before then."

"No promises, Gen!" Gojo grinned, already halfway out the door, Suguru groaning in tow.

Shoko offered you a small wave as she followed them out, her calm demeanor as steady as ever.

Watching them go, you couldn't help but smile again. They were a lot like you and your old friends once were—full of potential, full of life. You only hoped they’d find a way to hold onto that as long as they could.

And for a brief moment, you found yourself thinking, Yeah, they would’ve gotten along just fine.

HE WONDERS WHO YOU TRULY WERE. Suguru Geto had heard whispers about you long before he ever saw your face. The rumors circled like an ever-present breeze, spoken in quiet tones by those who thought no one was listening.

His father, who worked as a window for your mother’s family, often mentioned you in passing—a name that carried weight, history, and an air of mystery.

The whispers painted a picture of someone who was more than just another sorcerer. You were part of an ancient clan, one of those distant, elusive families that even the higher-ups at Jujutsu High regarded with a level of reverence. And yet, despite the importance of your lineage, there was something different about you.

When Gojo Satoru spoke of you, it was always with a casual fondness, even if he had just met you the other day. It didn’t take Suguru long to piece together why. You and Satoru were very distant relatives, after all.

And your life was always going to be a part of that tangled web of sorcerer families that had been interwoven for centuries. But Satoru’s interest in you wasn’t just out of obligation, Suguru knew that much was obvious.

There was something else there. Something about the way his normally cocky tone softened whenever your name came up, even if only slightly. He was interested in you, Suguru knows. Satoru thinks it's because you were just that good of a sorcerer.

And your father being Zenin Naoki, it was a big deal. If they saw more of your technique, then Satoru would end up raving about it. But you weren’t around as much to show it. And with how good you were with cursed tools, Suguru doubted you ever needed to use your cursed technique.

Suguru had been curious, of course. How could he not be? Special-grade sorcerers weren’t exactly common, and from the rumors he had heard, you were even more active in the field than Yuki Tsukumo herself. That alone was enough to make anyone stand out. But it wasn’t just your power—it was the sheer volume of reports that came in after every mission you completed.

From the bustling streets of Tokyo to the more traditional grounds of Kyoto Jujutsu High, your name seemed to pop up everywhere. And not in small ways, either. The curses you dealt with were of a caliber that even seasoned sorcerers hesitated to face. Yet you faced them head-on, time and time again.

Suguru leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the ceiling of his dorm room as he thought about it. He had never met someone so relentlessly active in the field. It was like you didn’t know how to slow down. Missions from one end of the country to the other, reports coming in almost daily… Did you even sleep?

He frowned, the thought lingering in his mind. Even Tsukumo Yuki, at least what people whispered about her, as restless as she was, had her quiet moments of reflection, her times of retreat from the world. But you?

He hadn't even met you properly yet, but it was starting to feel like you were some kind of living legend, the sort of person who operated on a different plane of existence entirely.

“You think too much, Suguru!” came Satoru’s voice, snapping him out of his thoughts. Gojo was lounging on the bed across the room, balancing a ball of cursed energy on the tip of his finger, a bored expression on his face.

“Am I?” Suguru shot back, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yeah, you’re always brooding.” Satoru replied, letting the ball of cursed energy dissipate. “You’ve been thinking about them, haven’t you?”

Suguru raised an eyebrow. "Them?"

Satoru grinned, almost like he was amused by the very thought. “You know, them. The one everyone keeps talking about. My oh-so-talented distant distant distant distant distant distant relative.”

Suguru crossed his arms, his curiosity now fully piqued. “I’ve heard the stories, sure. But it’s hard to believe someone is that active without collapsing from exhaustion at some point.”

Satoru laughed, loud and carefree. “Yeah, I’ve thought that too! But I saw them in action the other day. It’s wild. They’ve got this… I don’t know, this energy. Like they’re always moving, always thinking five steps ahead. It’s kinda scary, honestly.”

Suguru frowned, thinking back to the rumors. “I’ve seen the mission reports. They’re everywhere—Tokyo, Kyoto, even some out in the countryside. You’d think they’d take a break at some point.”

“Maybe they’re just a robot, you know?” Satoru said, half-joking. “A cursed spirit-fighting machine, programmed to never sleep.”

“Doubtful.” Suguru muttered, though the mental image was amusing. “But it’s strange. There’s something more to it. They’re not likeTsukumo–senpai, you know? Tsukumo–senpai’s off on her own things half the time, but you can tell she’s always thinking, always observing. From what I’ve heard, Gen–senpai just… goes. Like they’re on autopilot.”

Satoru shrugged, not seeming too concerned. “Eh, maybe it’s just their style. You’ll know more about them soon enough. Besides…..” he added with a teasing grin. “Gen–Senpai’s probably just like that. They’re probably just that good, like me!”

Suguru rolled his eyes. "That's not exactly comforting."

“You worry too much, Suguru. If they’re handling all these missions, that’s a good thing. It means less work for us.” Satoru shot him a thumbs up, clearly pleased with this logic.

Suguru sighed, glancing out the window. The sun was setting, casting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Somewhere out there, you were probably on another mission, dealing with a curse that would make most sorcerers hesitate. And here he was, wondering just what kind of person could keep that pace up without burning out.

“I just hope they know when to slow down.” Suguru muttered, almost to himself.

Satoru smirked, catching the comment. “I’m sure that Gen–senpai knows to pace themselves. They’re more senior than us, you know? Trust the process!”

HE COULDN’T SLEEP. The cold mountain air greeted Suguru as he entered the small convenience store tucked away in the hills. He had been on a mission with Satoru and Shoko, but after hours of trekking through the wilderness and dealing with a minor cursed spirit, his stomach had started to complain loudly. As he wandered the aisles, looking for something that could pass for a meal, he caught a glimpse of someone familiar.

It was you.

Standing near the refrigerated section, you were calmly perusing the drinks. Suguru blinked, a bit surprised, but then it made sense. You were always on the move, tackling missions in places most sorcerers wouldn’t bother with. This isolated mountain range seemed right up your alley.

He offered a nod of acknowledgment, and you returned it, your expression neutral but not unfriendly. Suguru didn’t expect much conversation—after all, you were both here on business—but as he grabbed a rice ball and some instant noodles, he found himself wandering closer to where you stood.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Gen–senpai." Suguru said casually, placing his items in his basket. “Thought you’d be halfway across the country, based on the reports I’ve seen.”

You gave a small, almost imperceptible smile as you grabbed a bottle of green tea. “I was asked by a nearby temple to help strengthen their barrier defenses.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued. “A temple, huh? So even the local monks know who to call when things get tough?”

You shrugged lightly, as if it were no big deal. “It’s a small place, but they’ve had problems with cursed spirits slipping through their wards recently. I figured I’d take care of it.”

“Sounds like a fun assignment.” Suguru smirked, grabbing a few more snacks from the shelf. "How long have you been here?"

“Just a couple of days.” you replied, your tone calm, as though discussing something routine. “Should be done by tomorrow.”

Suguru glanced at you, curious. “And after that? Another mission?”

You paused for a moment, as if considering your answer. “Most likely. There’s always something else.”

Suguru chuckled. “You really don’t stop, do you?”

“Neither do you, don’t you?” you countered, meeting his gaze with a knowing look. You smiled. “I blinked and suddenly a second year.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that. You had a point. "True, but I’m not out here fixing temple barriers in the middle of nowhere."

You tilted your head, a faint flicker of amusement in your eyes. “Someone has to.”

Suguru nodded, understanding the unspoken weight behind your words. The life of a sorcerer wasn’t exactly predictable, and while you handled more than your fair share of missions, you did it because you knew it was necessary.

“Well, if you ever need a break, we’re staying nearby. Satoru’s probably driving Shoko crazy by now. Seeing you would probably save her.” Suguru said with a grin, imagining his two teammates bickering back at their base.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” you said, though it was hard to tell whether you were serious or just humoring him. “If I finish fast, then I’ll contact you.”

Suguru gave a slight wave as he made his way to the checkout, his basket filled with enough food to get him through the night. As he left the store, he glanced back at you one more time. You were always moving, always working.

He wondered if you ever let yourself take a moment to breathe, but somehow, he doubted it. Still, for now, you were just two sorcerers in a convenience store, sharing a quiet moment amidst the chaos of your lives.

Suguru stood by the checkout counter, glancing at you with an expression somewhere between disbelief and confusion. He was sure you had a mission scheduled far from this remote mountain village. There had been reports—he knew the kind. It seemed like you were constantly juggling assignments from all over the country.

“You’re supposed to be somewhere else, right?” Suguru asked as you both placed your items on the counter.

“I know.” you replied, unfazed. “But I won't turn down a job.” Your tone was as steady as always, like this was just another day for you.

Suguru shook his head slightly, half impressed, half exasperated. You were relentless, never one to back down from work. He had heard plenty about how you balanced multiple missions in different regions. But there was something different about seeing it up close.

As the cashier rang up your items, Suguru reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet. But before he could hand over any cash, you placed a hand on his wrist and shook your head.

“Put it away, Geto–kun.” you said with a small, amused smile. “I can’t let a kouhai pay for things.”

Suguru blinked, slightly taken aback but not entirely surprised. You had an air of authority about you, not just in your skills but in how you carried yourself. He sighed, reluctantly slipping his wallet back into his coat.

“You sure?” he asked, though he already knew what your answer would be.

“I’m sure.” you replied smoothly as you handed the cashier the money for both your purchases. “I know you get paid as much as a minister like me, but it's better to keep that money for yourself. I’m not letting a kouhai pay.”

As you left the store, bags in hand, the cool evening air settled around the two of you. The path you were taking happened to lead in the same direction, toward both the shrine you were tasked with protecting and Suguru’s temporary accommodations. You fell into step beside each other, the quiet of the mountain enveloping the conversation.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you spoke up. “Geto–kun…. Why did you decide to become a sorcerer?”

Suguru glanced at you, puzzled by the sudden question. “Huh?”

You kept your gaze forward, the faint sound of your footsteps mingling with the rustling of the wind. “I’m just curious. Some people ignore the call. They choose to live normal lives. So… what’s your reason?”

Suguru blinked, surprised by the depth of your question. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to answer. Most people didn’t bother asking why someone became a sorcerer. It was just assumed that if you had the ability, you used it. But you weren’t like most people.

He thought for a moment, his usual confidence dimmed slightly as he reflected on your question. “I guess… I wanted to protect those who can’t protect themselves.” he said eventually, his voice steady but sincere. “It sounds cliché, but that’s the truth. I want to be honorable in that duty.”

You looked at him, studying his expression. “Honorable, huh?”

He nodded, feeling a little more certain now. “Yeah. There’s a lot of bad out there, and I guess I just want to be someone who stands in the way of that.”

A faint smile touched your lips. “That’s a good answer, Geto–kun.”

He chuckled lightly, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah? Well, it’s the only one I’ve got.”

You both continued walking, the temple drawing closer in the distance. Suguru found himself thinking more about your question, wondering if maybe you had asked him because of your own reasons—your own constant, relentless drive to take on mission after mission. But he didn’t press. Not yet.

“Why do you ask?” he ventured, curiosity getting the better of him.

You shrugged. “Just wondered what keeps you going.”

Suguru smiled softly. “Same thing that keeps you going, I guess. We’re both too stubborn to quit.”

You smiled slightly as you listened to Suguru's answer, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "That’s not a bad reason, Geto–kun." you said, your tone warm but thoughtful.

Suguru shook his head with a faint grin. "Maybe not. But Satoru thinks differently. He says it’s naive.”

That earned a snicker from you, and you glanced at him with an amused glint in your eyes. "Gojo–kun knows too much about jujutsu society. That’s why he’s cynical. It's hard not to be when you're aware of all the ugliness." You paused for a moment, considering your words before speaking again, a little more seriously this time. “But your dreams, Geto–kun….they’re beautiful. You want to protect people. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Suguru blinked, a little surprised by the genuine compliment. He hadn’t expected to hear that from you—someone who was always so grounded, so focused on the realities of the world. For a moment, it felt like his idealism wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

But then your expression shifted, more serious now. "Just don’t bear it too heavily, okay?" you warned softly. “It’ll hurt you if you do.”

Suguru frowned slightly, sensing the weight behind your words. “What do you mean?”

You exhaled, your gaze fixed on the path ahead. “Being a jujutsu sorcerer is proportionality, Geto–kun. There’s a balance in what we do. If you shoulder too much—if you put everyone else ahead of yourself—it’ll tear you apart. I’ve seen it happen.”

Suguru listened carefully, taking in your words. He had always admired your strength and resolve, but there was something about the way you spoke now, as though you had learned these lessons the hard way. "I get what you’re saying, but... if I don’t do it, who will?"

You gave him a smile, as if you knew that line of thinking all too well. “You don’t have to bear it alone. That’s what I’m saying. Keep yourself in check. You’re still young. You have Gojo–kun, don’t you? He’s your person. Talk to him when things get too heavy.”

Suguru felt a warmth creep up his neck as your words settled in. He was caught off guard, an unexpected blush rising to his cheeks. “Uh… I mean, yeah, Satoru is definitely—” His voice trailed off as he searched for the right words, suddenly aware of how closely you were watching him. There was something undeniably comforting in your gaze, and it made his heart race.

You smiled at him, a soft and encouraging expression that felt like a warm blanket on a chilly day. “I had someone like that too, you know? So I speak from experience.”

Suguru’s eyes widened in surprise, his curiosity piqued. “You did?”

“Of course! Everyone needs a Gojo–kun in their life,” you said, your tone teasing but affectionate. “Someone to share the burden with, even if they annoy you half the time.”

Suguru couldn’t help but chuckle at that, a lightness filling the air between you. “That sounds like him.”

“Right?” you replied, laughter dancing in your voice. “But really, it’s more than just sharing the burdens. It’s about the support. They’re there to lift you up when you feel like you’re sinking.” You paused, looking away for a moment as if reflecting on your own experiences. “And to keep you from doing something really stupid.”

He tilted his head, a playful smirk forming. “Like what? Getting into trouble?”

You met his gaze, your smile transforming into something a bit more mischievous. “Oh, you know. Like trying to fight a curse way out of your league without backup.” You winked at him, and Suguru’s heart skipped a beat. The easy banter felt effortless, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift.

“I would never do something like that.” he protested, crossing his arms in mock indignation. “I’m far too responsible.”

“Responsible, huh?” You raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “I’ve seen the way you and him bicker. If that isn’t a recipe for trouble, I don’t know what is. Yaga must suffer having to deal with the two of you often, doesn’t he?”

Suguru laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, fair point. But you still have to admit that Satoru can be a handful.”

“True enough, I suppose.” you conceded with a playful grin. “But that’s what makes him so much fun. And it’s nice knowing that someone’s got your back, even if they’re a little ridiculous sometimes.”

Suguru’s heart warmed at your words, a feeling of camaraderie blossoming between you. “You’re right. I guess it’s nice knowing I can lean on him, even if he doesn’t always act like it.”

“Exactly!” you said, your enthusiasm infectious. “And you can lean on me too, you know. Just because I’m older doesn’t mean I have all the answers.”

Suguru smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through him. “Thanks. That means a lot.” He paused, hesitating for a moment before speaking again. “So, who was your ‘person’?”

You looked away, your expression turning thoughtful as you seemed to reflect on a memory that danced just out of reach. The shift was subtle, but he noticed how the light in your eyes dimmed slightly, as if the joy of the moment had been overshadowed by something unspoken.

“Let’s just say… life doesn’t always work out the way you expect.” you replied softly, the weight of your past hanging in the air. “And it didn’t work with that person.”

Suguru’s heart ached for you, sensing that there was more to your story than you let on. But before he could press for details, you turned back to him, the sparkle in your eyes returning as if you were determined to lighten the mood. “But enough about me! Let’s focus on your beautiful dreams of saving the world. I mean, someone has to keep Gojo–kun in check, right?”

His laughter filled the space between you, dispelling the heaviness that had crept in for just a moment. “Yeah, that sounds like a full-time job!”

“Then I suggest you get plenty of rest, then.” you said, your tone teasing but genuine. “You’ll need all the energy you can get if you plan to take on both Gojo–kun and the curses. Don’t get injured too much too. Ieiri–chan deserves better than to suffer so much of you.”

Suguru nodded, feeling buoyed by the conversation. He didn’t quite know how to express it, but he felt a deeper connection with you—something that transcended the usual mentor-mentee relationship. You understood him in a way that was comforting and invigorating all at once.

As you both continued walking, the setting sun painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, he couldn’t help but feel grateful. “Thanks for talking, really. It helps to know I’m not alone in all of this, Gen–senpai.”

You smiled back at him, a soft, genuine expression that made his heart skip again. “Anytime, Geto–kun. Remember, you’ve got more support than you think. Call me when you need me.”

“Y–yes, Gen–senpai.”

You gave him a small nod, though your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Then I’ll be off. You worked hard today, Geto–kun. You should get some sleep.”

With that, you turned and began walking away, your footsteps steady yet purposeful. Geto Suguru hesitated for a moment, but he knew you had other matters to take care of. For the first time in a while, he thinks he doesn’t want you to go.

HE DOESN’T KNOW IF THIS WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN. But this is what happened as time went on. Geto Suguru walked along the winding path, the fading light of dusk casting long shadows behind him.

As he pondered the warmth of your recent conversation, a thought flickered in the back of his mind, growing more insistent with each passing moment. Could his heart grow bigger?

He had always felt love for Satoru and every day, it seemed to grow fonder, wanting, fiery; it was a bond forged through shared struggles, laughter, and an unspoken understanding that went deeper than words.

But now, as he reflected on all the times you had been there for him—guiding him through his studies, sharing your insights on cursed techniques, and even demonstrating how to wield cursed objects—he realized that his feelings for you had blossomed into something unexpected.

Every time Suguru sought your advice, you responded without a moment’s hesitation. Whether it was late at night, after exhausting missions, or in the quiet spaces between battles, you always made time for him.

You never wavered, never hesitated to share your knowledge, your insight. It was more than just advice; you offered your kindness, your quiet strength, in a way that left him feeling both deeply grateful and, at times, overwhelmed by the depth of your care.

He had never been good at asking for help. Even back then, pride had been one of his most stubborn traits. Yet with you, it felt different. He didn’t need to ask twice. You were always there—an unwavering presence amidst the chaos of their lives as sorcerers. You were someone who believed in him, even on the days when he struggled to believe in himself.

"How do you do it?" Suguru asked one evening after a particularly grueling mission. His voice was softer than usual, his usual sharp edge dulled by exhaustion and something heavier, more introspective. The two of you were sitting on the steps of Jujutsu High, the weight of the day’s battle settling in your bones, the moon casting a faint glow over the courtyard.

"Do what?" you asked, turning to face him, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. Your eyes sparkled with that same warmth he had come to rely on, the one that could lighten the weight of the world in a single glance.

"Stay... so steady." he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck, almost embarrassed by the vulnerability in his question. "No matter what happens, no matter how heavy it all gets… you never falter. How do you keep going?"

You looked at him for a long moment, as if considering your answer, before your smile deepened. "Because it’s not just about me, Geto–kun. It’s about the people I care about. People like you, Gojo—kun…..my friends. That’s what keeps me steady. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard."

Suguru’s throat tightened, and he looked away, his gaze drifting toward the darkened horizon. He wasn’t used to hearing those kinds of words—not directed at him. Not with such sincerity. "You make it sound so easy, senpai." he said, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. "But sometimes it’s hard to keep going when everything feels like it’s falling apart."

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you reached out and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, the warmth of your touch grounding him in the moment. "It’s not easy. But you don’t have to carry it all by yourself, Geto–kun. You don’t have to face it alone."

He glanced at you then, his dark eyes meeting yours, searching for something in your gaze. You had always been there, always offering him that unwavering support, that steady presence he had come to admire so much.

It wasn’t just your strength as a sorcerer that left him in awe, though you were undeniably powerful. It was your heart. The way you cared, the way you saw through his defenses and believed in him—even when he didn’t deserve it.

"You’re always saying stuff like that." he said, his voice quieter now, more introspective. "Like it’s no big deal, like it’s just… who you are."

You tilted your head slightly, your smile softening. "Because it is who I am, Geto–kun. And who I’ll always be."

For a long time, neither of you spoke. Suguru felt the weight of those words, the sincerity in them wrapping around him like a balm to his weary soul. He admired you, more than he could ever put into words.

It wasn’t just your strength or your skills as a sorcerer that left him in awe; it was this—your unshakable kindness, your ability to see through the darkness and offer him light, no matter how heavy things became.

Suguru let those words settle over him, the warmth of your presence easing the ache in his chest, even if only for a little while. And in that moment, he realized that no matter how heavy the burdens became, no matter how far he fell—he’d always have this. He’d always have you, a constant light in his life, even when everything else seemed to crumble.

But he couldn’t help wondering, deep down, if he’d ever be able to hold onto it. Or if the darkness inside him would eventually swallow it whole.

He exhaled slowly, leaning back on his elbows, gazing up at the sky. "You know….." he said after a while, "it’s not just Satoru I stay for. You’re… you’re part of the reason too, Gen–senpai."

Your smile wavered, just for a moment, your gaze softening as you studied him. "I’m glad to hear that." you said quietly. "I’m really glad, Geto–kun.”

“Suguru.”

“Hm?”

“Senpai, you can call me Suguru too.” He whispers as he looks at you. “You call Satoru and Shoko by their names now. You don’t have to call me so…so formally.”

“Oh.” You say and then you smile. “Have I made you feel distant? I’m sorry, Suguru–kun.”

“N–no….it’s okay, senpai.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Suguru–kun.” You say, pulling at his hand and grinned. “Come on, I’ll get us both some chocolate milk in the vending machine.”

“Senpai—”

You giggled. “Come, Suguru–kun!”

Amid this warm affection, uncertainty gnawed at him. Would you ever return such feelings? Did you even see him in that light? And then there was Satoru—his best friend, his other half. How could he possibly explain these newfound feelings? Would Satoru understand, or would he see it as a betrayal?

Suguru sighed, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. Burying these feelings felt like the only option. It was better to keep them hidden, to preserve the relationships he cherished rather than risk losing them all.

After all, love was complicated enough in their world, full of curses and dangers; why complicate it further with feelings that might never see the light of day?

He glanced up at the sky, the first stars twinkling into view. As much as he wanted to be honest with you, the fear of rejection held him back. It was safer to keep his heart guarded, to let the affection remain a quiet ember in the depths of his soul rather than a blazing fire that might scorch everything he held dear.

As he walked, he couldn’t help but think of you, the way your laughter lit up the dullest of days, the kindness in your voice that made everything seem possible. You were someone worth cherishing, someone who had woven your way into the fabric of his life without him even realizing it.

Suguru led you into his room, a cozy space filled with posters of various bands and an impressive collection of CDs lining the shelves. He smiled sheepishly, his fingers brushing against the cases as he gestured for you to take a closer look.

But for now, he would remain silent, allowing his heart to hold onto those feelings, tucking them away in a corner where they wouldn’t threaten to disrupt the fragile balance of his relationships.

It was a bittersweet decision, one that left him feeling both relieved and sorrowful as he continued down the path, the shadows of the mountains rising around him like an embrace—dark, protective, and filled with the weight of unspoken love.

“Uh, so this is my collection. You told me that you like this sort of music.” he said, a hint of pride lacing his words, though his cheeks flushed slightly as he glanced at you. “I’ve been collecting for a while now.”

You stepped closer, examining the colorful album covers and their eclectic mix of genres. “Wow, Suguru! This is impressive! I didn’t know you were such a music aficionado.” you remarked, genuinely intrigued.

His bashfulness intensified at the compliment, and he scratched the back of his neck, a shy grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, well, it’s just something I really enjoy. It helps me focus when I’m training, you know?”

You nodded, picking up a CD with a vibrant cover. “I can see why! Your taste is really good! I mean, look at this—Queen, Bowie? They’re amazing! How did you even discover them?”

Suguru’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink, and he shrugged, trying to downplay your praise. “Oh, I just… stumbled upon them a while back. They have a unique sound that I like.”

You laughed softly, putting the CD back on the shelf and meeting his gaze. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Seriously, these choices are fantastic. You’ve got a great ear for music!”

His bashful smile widened, and he felt a warm flutter in his chest. “Thanks. I just like to find music that speaks to me.” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t think anyone would really notice.”

“Of course, I notice! Music has a way of bringing people together, and I think it’s awesome that you have such a passion for it.” you encouraged, leaning against the shelf and crossing your arms, your smile encouraging. “You should share it more often!”

Suguru fidgeted slightly, glancing down at the CDs as if they held the answers to his swirling emotions. “Maybe... I just never thought it was a big deal, senpai.” he mumbled, his gaze drifting back to you, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest.

“Well, I think it is.” you said firmly, your eyes sparkling with sincerity. “I’d love to hear your favorites sometime. Maybe we could listen together? Bring Satoru–kun and Shoko–chan. I’m sure Yu–kun and Kento–kun. I’m sure we’ll have fun together, don’t you think?”

His heart raced at the idea, and he nodded slowly, a smile breaking through his bashfulness. “Yeah, that sounds great. I’d like that, senpai.” he replied, his voice steadying as he felt a new sense of confidence in your presence. “On your next day off, I suppose.”

You grinned, feeling a warmth spread between you. “It’s a deal, then! Just warn me if you’re about to play something super embarrassing.”

Suguru chuckled, the tension easing. “I’ll do my best, but no promises. I have a few guilty pleasures.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Suguru-kun.” you teased, your laughter filling the room and making Suguru feel a little more at ease, his heart buoyed by the connection growing between you.

HE THINKS HE FEELS WHOLE WHEN HE’S WITH SATORU. But even as Suguru grappled with his thoughts, a flicker of hope ignited within him. He often found himself wondering if he would feel even more complete when he, you, and Satoru were together. The notion that the three of you could create something beautiful filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

It was in the quiet moments he treasured the most—the laughter shared over late-night snacks, the easy camaraderie that unfolded when you all trained together, pushing one another to be better.

The way your eyes sparkled with mischief when you planned pranks on Satoru or the way Satoru’s laughter rang out like music, brightening the air around you both. Suguru couldn’t shake the feeling that these moments, filled with laughter and love, would fill the empty spaces inside him, the ones he hadn’t known were there until you came into his life.

He had seen the dynamic unfold before him. You and Satoru, with your effortless chemistry, often made him feel like an outsider looking in, yet there was a part of him that ached for that connection. The thought of you all laughing together, of sharing joy and camaraderie, tugged at his heartstrings. It was a simple dream, but one that seemed almost unattainable.

In his more vulnerable moments, he’d fantasized about the three of you taking on missions together. “Can you imagine?” he’d whispered to you one evening, the stars glittering overhead. “Just the three of us, fighting side by side. I think we could take on anything.”

You had chuckled softly, your eyes shining with warmth. “We’d be unstoppable!” you replied, your tone light yet filled with genuine belief. “We’d have fun too, and maybe even find a way to make it all bearable.”

Suguru nodded, savoring the idea. But there was still an ache in his heart, a worry that he might ruin it somehow, that he might overshadow the happiness you shared with Satoru.

The darkness that he often felt creeping at the edges of his mind made him question if he could truly be a part of that happiness. Would he be an anchor weighing you down, or could he learn to fly alongside you both?

As he watched you and Satoru interact, he often found himself captivated by the way you lit up around each other. The way you made each other laugh, the shared glances filled with unspoken understanding.

He could see the joy radiating from you both, and it stirred something deep within him—a longing for connection, for belonging. Suguru had never considered himself a jealous person, but witnessing the bond between you and Satoru often left him with a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

But there was also a growing realization: he didn’t have to fit into the mold of either of you. He could bring his own light to the trio, his own flavor to the friendship. Each of you had your strengths and weaknesses, and together, you could create something beautiful—a tapestry woven from laughter, shared struggles, and undeniable bonds.

He let himself imagine those scenarios, the three of you exploring the city at night, catching dinner at your favorite spot, or the three of you sprawled out on the floor, playing video games until dawn. Geto Suguru envisioned the sound of your laughter ringing through the air, the feeling of camaraderie that would surround you like a warm embrace.

In those fleeting moments of hope, he realized that he could be happy. You had already shown him that he could find joy again, even amidst the shadows. If he could just allow himself to take the leap, to embrace the uncertainty, maybe he would find himself even fuller—more vibrant—when you, Satoru, and he were together.

Suguru knew it wouldn’t be easy. He had demons to battle, insecurities that needed confronting, but with you and Satoru by his side, perhaps he could learn to navigate those turbulent waters. And as he caught your gaze across the room one day, that hopeful warmth bloomed in his chest, pushing away the lingering doubts that had clouded his mind.

Maybe he thought. We really could have fun together. Maybe we could create something that would light up the darkest corners of our hearts.

And for the first time in a long time, the possibility of a brighter future seemed within reach, one filled with laughter, love, and unbreakable bonds.

Satoru and Suguru sat down in his bed for a long while after a night spent tangled in each other's arms. The moonlight filtered softly through the windows, casting a silver glow over their quiet breaths. Their bodies still thrummed with the lingering heat, but in the calm that followed, there was space for something deeper.

Satoru, leaning back with a gentle sigh, broke the silence. "I think... I’ve fallen in love with them." he confessed, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. He looked at Suguru. “Gen–senpai.”

Suguru turned his head slightly, his dark purple eyes finding Satoru’s, a hint of surprise flickering across his features. He didn’t speak right away, but then, slowly, a quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. He smiled against his shoulder. “Yeah… I have too.”

The corner of Satoru’s lips quivered into a warm smile, eyes soft as he looked at Suguru. “It doesn’t make me love you any less, you know.” he said, sincerity coloring every word.

Suguru’s laughter bubbled up again, deeper this time, as he shook his head. “I know that.” he replied, eyes twinkling. “It just means we’ve both grown a bigger heart, doesn’t it?”

Satoru nodded, reaching out to brush a lock of hair away from Suguru’s face. “I want to make them happy. I want to protect them from the world, the way I do you. I want us to be happy together.”

Suguru leaned into Satoru’s touch, his own smile softening. “I want the same thing.” His voice held the weight of a promise, one made in the stillness of the night, where only truth lingered between them.

AND YET, NOTHING EVER GOES TO HUMAN WISHES. The world had shattered when Amanai Riko died, a blow so devastating it left an unfillable void. The trauma of loss, grief, and anguish twisted within Geto Suguru like a storm he could no longer control.

He had always been strong, holding the weight of so many expectations, but that moment—the senseless death of someone they were meant to protect—was the catalyst that began his unraveling.

You had been furious. Suguru had seen it, felt it in the way your energy crackled with righteous anger on their behalf. You had stormed into arguments with Yaga and Gakuganji, your voice sharp with frustration.

You called them out, unrelenting, accusing them of failing Suguru and Satoru, of putting too much on their shoulders. You offered to take on their missions, as if sacrificing yourself would shield them from the horrors of this world. Suguru had appreciated your fierce loyalty, but he also saw through the mask you wore.

He saw the weariness in your eyes, the deep, bone-deep fatigue that mirrored his own. You were just as tired, just as broken by this life as he was, and yet you clung to hope—for them, if not for yourself. But hope wasn't enough to keep the darkness at bay.

Over time, the distance between them grew like a slow tear in fabric—once so tightly knit, now fraying at the edges. Suguru and Satoru, the strongest, the unbreakable pair, were drifting apart. The burdens neither of them could fully share weighed heavier with each passing day.

Satoru, with all his strength, was consumed by his own responsibilities, the guilt over Riko’s death haunting him like a shadow. He was there, but only in the physical sense, his heart and mind distant, somewhere beyond reach.

And you—you were caught in the middle, silently holding together Suguru’s burdens on top of your own. You were trying to hold everything together, the glue between the cracks that had begun to form. You had always been the one to fight for them, to step into the line of fire if it meant protecting them from pain. But this pain was different. It was insidious, creeping into every corner of your life, until it weighed so heavy you could hardly breathe.

"Are you okay?" Suguru had asked you one evening, his voice soft but lined with concern. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to find the answer you wouldn’t say.

You had smiled, that same practiced, hollow smile that had become second nature. "I’m fine, Suguru–kun." you replied, your voice steady but empty.

Suguru frowned, his brow furrowing as he leaned forward, his hand reaching for yours. "You don’t have to be fine all the time. Not with me."

"I am fine." you repeated, pulling your hand away gently, your heart heavy with the lie. You wanted to believe it, for his sake and your own. But you weren’t fine. Not at all.

You were just as broken as he was. Maybe more.

Then Haibara died.

It wasn’t just another loss—it was the breaking point. Haibara was one of the brightest lights in their dark world, a beacon of hope, of goodness. His death wasn’t just tragic—it was devastating, senseless, another reminder of how cruel and indifferent the world was.

That night, Suguru came to you, his face pale, eyes hollow with grief. He didn’t say anything for a long time. He just stood in your doorway, the weight of everything that had happened hanging in the air like a fog. You could feel the walls closing in around both of you, the suffocating pressure of everything you had tried so hard to ignore.

"I can’t do this anymore, Gen–senpai." Suguru finally said, his voice raw, barely above a whisper. He stepped into the room, his movements slow, deliberate, like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. "I can’t watch this happen over and over again."

You swallowed the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. "Suguru…"

"No, no." he cut you off, shaking his head as he sat down beside you. "I’m done pretending. I’m done lying to myself that we’re doing something good here. That this means anything."

You looked at him, your heart aching at the defeat in his voice. "It does mean something," you said, though even as the words left your mouth, they felt empty. How many times had you told yourself that same thing, hoping it would be enough to keep you going?

Suguru’s gaze met yours, and in his eyes, you saw it—the breaking. The man you once knew, the one who had carried the weight of others without hesitation, was falling apart. He let out a bitter laugh, one that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Does it? Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it anymore. I’ve watched too many people die. Too many good people. And for what? So the next mission can take the next person? So we can lose more friends, more lives, and call it ‘necessary’?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. Because deep down, you agreed. Haibara’s death had been a tipping point for you, too. You were so tired—so tired. Of fighting, of losing, of trying to keep it all together. And Satoru… He had been slipping further and further away, lost in his own world of guilt and self-reproach, leaving you to carry the pieces of what was left.

"I wanted to save people." Suguru continued, his voice cracking as his hands balled into fists. "But I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save Haibara. I can’t save anyone. Not anymore."

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with something dark, something final. "It’s broken, and I don’t know how to fix it anymore."

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "You don’t have to fix it, Suguru–kun. We’ll get through this. We always do."

He gave you a sad smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. "I don’t think I can do that anymore."

And then, in the stillness of the night, something in Suguru snapped. You could see it—the cold, detached resolve settling over him like a heavy cloak. The next thing you knew, he had left, and when he came back, it was with blood on his hands.

He had murdered that village. And the man you knew, the man who had once fought so hard to protect, was gone.

The weight of the sorrow, the anger, the pain. All of it became too much to bear. He saw the world for what it was: a place full of suffering that would never stop unless someone made it stop.

And so, in the dead of night, he walked into that village, his heart cold, his mind set on a singular purpose. He slaughtered them all—men, women, children as if purging the world of that one village might somehow ease the weight in his chest.

It didn’t.

But it was the moment Geto Suguru stopped trying to be the person he once was. And it was the night he fully embraced the path that would lead him to become something else—someone who no longer fought for the world, but against it.

The first person he came to see after it all happened was you.

Suguru stood in your doorway, still dressed in his bloodstained uniform, his face unreadable beneath the coldness that had settled in his eyes. The moonlight cast pale shadows across his face, but you weren’t stunned by his presence.

You had already known—felt it the moment it happened. What he had done. It was like that night with Kaiko all over again, when she had shown up before you, her hands dripping with blood, her eyes empty of remorse.

You stared at him, your expression calm, though your heart weighed heavy in your chest. "Why are you here, Suguru?" you asked, your voice soft, almost tired. You had been waiting for this.

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes flickered across your face, searching for something—understanding, maybe. Forgiveness, perhaps. He stepped into your space, his presence filling the room, but the warmth that once came with him was gone.

"I’m building something new." he said quietly. "A world where we don’t have to suffer anymore. Where we’re free from this endless cycle of death and pain." His voice was steady, but there was something hollow in it, something broken that couldn’t be fixed. "I came to ask if you’d come with me."

You blinked, his words hanging in the air between you like a heavy fog. "Why me?" you asked, your eyes meeting him, searching for something in the depths of his darkness. "Why not ask Satoru?"

Suguru flinched, just barely, but enough for you to notice. His jaw clenched, and he didn’t answer. He looked away, as if the mention of Satoru’s name was too much, too painful. It said everything you needed to know without him having to say a word.

You sighed softly, sadness curling in your chest like a quiet ache. You smiled at him then, a soft, bittersweet smile, filled with the weight of everything left unsaid. You deeply adored him, cared for him, just as you do with Satoru, but this wasn’t the path you could walk. Not this.

"I’m sorry, Suguru." you whispered, your voice trembling at the edges.

His eyes met yours again, and for a moment—just a fleeting second—you saw the man you once knew. The man who cared, who wanted to save people, who carried the world with you. But it was gone just as quickly as it came, swallowed by the void he had fallen into.

He nodded, his expression hardening once more. He didn’t say anything as he turned to leave, but the silence between you was louder than words. You watched him go, knowing that the Suguru you once knew had already walked away long before he came to you tonight.

And all you could do was whisper to the emptiness left in his wake, "I’m sorry."

epilogue

YOU NEVER EXPECTED IT. It was 2014, the first time you had seen him in years. You were in Hida, nestled in the tranquility of the forest, resting after Satoshi’s birth. The crisp mountain air surrounded you, the soft rustle of leaves above matching the rhythm of your quiet hum as you cradled your son in your arms.

Leaning against the broad trunk of a tree, you let the peacefulness of the moment wrap around you, the soft melody filling the air as Satoshi dozed in your embrace.

You sensed him before you saw him—Suguru. His presence had always been familiar, a deep current of energy that used to pull you in, but now it was different, muted somehow. When you finally looked up, there he was, standing just a few feet away, watching you with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Is that the same song you used to hum to me when you brushed my hair?” he asked, his voice low, carrying the weight of memories with it.

Your fingers stilled for a moment in Satoshi’s soft hair, and you turned your gaze back to your son, trying to keep the ache in your chest at bay. "What are you doing here, Suguru?" you asked quietly, your eyes focused on the peaceful rise and fall of Satoshi’s breathing, trying to steady your own.

He stepped closer, moving with that same graceful ease you remembered. "I wanted to visit you," he said, the smile widening just a fraction. It wasn’t the smile you remembered—the warmth had long since faded from it, replaced with something distant, something unreadable.

You didn’t look up as he sat down beside you, close but not touching, the space between you now more than just physical distance. You hummed softly in response, acknowledging his presence but keeping your focus on Satoshi. "You’ve gotten better at hiding your cursed scent." you remarked, your tone light, though the words carried a quiet truth.

Suguru hummed back, leaning against the tree beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Thank you for the compliment."

For a moment, there was silence between you, the only sounds were the soft rustling of leaves and the faint cooing of Satoshi. The years that had passed felt like lifetimes, like different worlds had formed between you. And yet, in that quiet moment, it felt almost like before. Almost.

But not quite.

"Things change." Suguru said after a while, his voice soft, almost contemplative. You didn’t respond, just continued humming the tune you once sang to him all those years ago, when the world was different, when you were different. He listened quietly, the weight of his presence beside you both a comfort and a reminder of the distance that could never fully be bridged.

You didn’t need to ask why he was really there. You already knew. He wasn’t just visiting. He was mourning you, mourning Satoru. Mourning this life. Right in front of you.

You glanced at him, the man you hadn’t seen in so long, the ghost of someone you once knew. “How have you been, Suguru?” you asked softly, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer, or if it even mattered after all this time.

He smiled, a shadow of the one you remembered from years ago. “I’ve been well,” he said, though the weight in his voice suggested otherwise. He was never one to reveal his heart so easily, especially now, when the chasm between you both felt endless.

You nodded, accepting the answer for what it was. Then, after a moment, you asked, “Do you know Satoru’s coming to visit me?”

Suguru didn’t hesitate, his smile turning a touch wry. “I know, I know.” he said, his tone laced with familiarity. “I can smell Satoru from miles away.”

You hummed in response, a quiet acknowledgment of the strange and complicated bond they still shared. The tension between them had always been palpable, the kind that came from loving someone too deeply, from sharing too much history and heartache.

At that moment, Satoshi stirred in your arms, his tiny fists unclenching as his eyes slowly fluttered open. He blinked up at Suguru, his deep blue eyes—the same piercing shade as Satoru’s—curious and bright.

Suguru looked at him for a long moment, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. “He reminds me of Satoru.” he murmured, his voice softened, the edge gone. There was a warmth in his gaze that was almost foreign to you now.

You smiled softly, nodding. “He should. I married Satoru, and Satoshi is our son.”

For a brief moment, Suguru’s eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite name—an echo of something long gone, something distant and unreachable. You wondered if it was regret. Regret for the life he could have had, for the choices he made that led him away from this quiet happiness.

You couldn’t help but think of what could have been—how different things would be if he had stayed. If you had been together, building a life, raising Satoshi together. It would have been a beautiful life, you thought, with him in it.

Suguru reached out, his fingers gentle as they traced the soft curve of Satoshi’s cheek. His touch was delicate, almost reverent. He whispered a blessing under his breath, a prayer for a long, happy life, his voice barely audible but filled with a tenderness that tugged at your heart.

You watched him, your chest tightening with the weight of everything left unsaid. “Suguru…” you whispered, your voice trembling, almost heartbroken. The reality of the moment pressed in on you, the finality of it.

He looked at you then, his eyes soft but distant, as if he had already begun to slip away. “I have to go now.” he said quietly, standing up, his movements slow, deliberate. “Satoru grows near.”

You couldn’t stop him, though a part of you wanted to reach out, to pull him back into your life, to ask him to stay, to find some way to heal what had been broken. But you knew it was too late for that.

But that life was not yours to live. Not anymore.

As Suguru stood up to leave, the words spilled from your lips before you could stop them. "If Kaiko was the light of my life, and Satoru the love of my life…." you said, your voice barely a whisper, trembling with emotion. "Then you, Suguru… you are the loss of my life."

For a moment, he paused, his back still turned to you. The silence stretched between you, heavy with the weight of everything that had been broken, of everything that could never be repaired. Slowly, Suguru turned to face you, and when he did, there was that smile again—so soft, so sad, it made your heart ache.

"I know." he whispered, his voice gentle but lined with sorrow. His dark eyes met yours, filled with the kind of understanding that only comes with time, with regret. "You and Satoru were mine."

The truth of it hung between you, raw and painful. Your heart clenched, and the tears you had been holding back finally broke free. You bit your lip, trying to stifle the sobs, but the grief you had carried for so long, the grief of losing him, of losing what you all could have been, spilled out like a wound reopening.

Satoshi stirred in your arms, his little face scrunching in concern. Noticing your tears, he reached up with his tiny baby hands, clumsily trying to wipe them away. His touch was soft, innocent, and it only made your heart ache more. You held him close, your tears falling onto his soft hair, as you tried to compose yourself.

Suguru watched for a moment, his expression unreadable, as if he were memorizing this final image of you and Satoshi, this life he had chosen to walk away from. And then, without another word, he turned and left.

You watched him go, your vision blurred by tears, your heart breaking with each step he took away from you. This was the end—the last goodbye. The loss you had always feared would come, finally settling into your bones, leaving behind a hollow, aching space that would never be filled.

Satoshi cooed softly, still reaching for your face, his small hands warm against your skin. You held him close, feeling the bittersweet weight of your love for him, for Satoru, for Suguru—all of it tangled together in a web of memories and emotions that would never fully fade.

Suguru was gone, and with him, the last piece of a life you once dreamed of.

Gojo Satoru arrived not long after, his familiar presence filling the quiet space of the forest as he approached. You looked up from where you sat, still holding Satoshi close. The moment his eyes met yours, you saw the flicker of concern cross his face. He noticed, of course. He always did.

"Hey." he said softly, crouching down beside you, his voice gentle as the breeze. His gaze lingered on your face, taking in the remnants of the tears you had wiped away.

You smiled at him, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, but one you hoped would be enough. “I cried because Satoshi’s just so adorable, Satoru.” you said, your voice light, almost playful, as you nuzzled your son’s soft hair. “Our son’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

Satoru looked at you, and even though you knew he didn’t believe you, he didn’t press. His blue eyes searched yours for a moment longer before his lips quivered into a knowing, sad smile. “Is that so?” he murmured, tilting his head as if playing along.

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his warmth grounding you in a way only he could. Then, with the same tenderness, he kissed Satoshi’s little head, making your son giggle softly in your arms.

But you knew he could sense it—Suguru’s lingering presence in the air, in the space you all once shared. Satoru’s bond with Suguru was something words could never fully capture, and even if they hadn’t spoken in years, he could feel that he had been here. You could see it in the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly, the way his smile faltered for a split second before he steadied himself.

And you knew, in that quiet, unspoken way between the two of you, that Satoru was mourning too. Not just for Suguru’s absence in his life, but for the life that could have been—what you all could have had if things had been different.

But like always, Satoru didn’t say anything about it. He just stayed there, next to you, his presence a comfort as Satoshi began to babble happily, oblivious to the undercurrent of sadness hanging in the air. You leaned into Satoru, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, as the quiet settled between you.

Together, you mourned for Suguru in the silence. You didn’t need to say it. He didn’t need to ask. You both understood the ache that would always remain for the one who had been lost to you both.

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kakushino · 1 year ago

Text

First... or Fourth?

Uzui Tengen x AFAB! Reader

You're returning from a years-long undercover mission, which forced you to leave your new husband at the time, Tengen. However, there is a surprise waiting for you...

Tags: angst, betrayal, mild gore, self-worth issues, body worship, emotional smut, dom-leaning bottom reader Word count: 7,9k

Masterlist | Part 2

Just a few more miles, just a few more…

You were on your way back from an undercover mission - one that had been given as a punishment for your actions ‘against’ your Clan. It took years to complete, and you will never be the same again. But, you were looking forward to seeing the one person who could heal your soul.

Uzui Tengen.

Your husband.

One you had to leave nearly immediately after marrying.

He had been waiting for you for years all alone, or at least you hoped he had been waiting for you. You promised each other to always come back, alive and intact.

Your mind wandered. Would he be the same height, or taller? Did he keep his hair short? Did he still wear the gold arm braces? Did he still live in the mansion he bought for the two of you? Was he alive? Was he waiting for you? Did he-

No. You pushed the feelings of doubt aside. Tengen would be waiting for you in your estate. He would give you that smile you loved so much, welcome you home. You would both cry in happiness. Oh, how you ached to be in his arms again. You two would cuddle for a whole day and a half, content to bask in each other.

But first, you needed to get presentable. The old inn that used to be in a nearby town got replaced with a newer one. At this time, any would do, as long as you could bathe, eat, sleep, and buy new clothes, not necessarily in that order.

The old set of clothes you put aside before your mission was too big on your much thinner frame. You stared at yourself in a mirror in the lobby on your way to shop. Maybe a haircut was in order too, but you could handle that yourself with a trusty kunai.

You tried not to dwell on your experiences from the past few years lest you not sleep that night. A makeover would do well for you.

The town wasn’t big, and finding the seamstress took no time at all. One look at your figure had the old woman bringing out three pre-made kimono sets. “I’m sorry dear. I don’t think there are any others that would fit you,” she told you.

You sighed quietly. That was fine. You could always order some later. For now, one would do. Of the three, only one seemed to be presentable for your flashy husband. “The yellow one please.” Though the pattern was very simple - vertical stripes - the color was very vibrant and eye-catching. The seamstress gave you a bright red obi, perhaps understanding your desire for more color.

Walking out of the shop, you felt like a new person. It was near sunset, time passed quickly while you were gossiping with the old woman. She’d given you the much desired haircut as well, dry and choppy hair strands falling like autumn leaves.

You would see your love tomorrow. Your heart swelled with affection. Butterflies took up space in your stomach.

You couldn’t wait.

Something was wrong. Something was so, so wrong. There, in front of you. Your husband - was he? - with three women - very busty women - smiling at them with your smile, the special one, the one you cherished so much.

What’s going on?

“Tengen?” you breathed out with a barely-there high pitched whine. His eyes - beautiful, loving, staring at those women - snapped in your direction. Of course he heard. He’d always had the best hearing of all people you knew- used to know.

He looked like he was seeing a ghost, a phantom of the past. Your heart was clogging up your throat, threatening to be thrown up. You keened in pain. Tengen with three beautiful busty women… Has he not waited? Does he not love me anymore?

“[Name]?” you imagined he said it out loud, but he might have only mouthed it. You were too far apart. You with your plain kimono, hair much shorter, standing alone on a dusty road and him with his flamboyance and his three women.

You wanted to run, you wanted to scream, you wanted to fight, you wanted to scratch him, scar him, you wanted to cause a scene, dig a grave and lay in it. A war went on inside you - your brain and your heart in a battle to the death, a last stand. Was this how it felt to have your heart ripped out? To have your mind unravel? Every day you thought of Tengen - Tengen, Tengen, Tengen - of the moments spent together under blooming sakuras, of the whispered promises to break away and start over, to ditch the miserable life of a shinobi-

In a flash, he stood scarcely a foot from you. The Uzui Tengen of your memories used to be slightly shorter, his hair was longer now, and he appeared even stronger than before, flashier than ever, if possible. He glowed with the happiness of a good life, a happy life. (Happy wife, happy life, he used to say. How true was it now?) The expression he wore was one of disbelief, his huge hands outstretched as if to touch you, slap your wrist, tear out your heart, crush your trachea, break you-

“Lord Tengen, who is this?”

The moment was broken. You flinched and took a quick step back, skimming the figures of the three women. Kunoichi, without a doubt.

A horrible feeling crawled up your spine, one you tried to push back because he wouldn’t… would he? You promised each other to break away from the system, to deny everything you were taught and live a good life together.

Has he gone back to shinobi life? Gone back on the promises? Taken more wives? Taken other wives?

Your husband ignored the inquiry, and instead whispered, “I thought you died,” in a horrified whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief, too shiny to be normal, as if he were holding back tears. “I thought you were dead.” A strangled sound left his throat and he grabbed your wrists, pulling you into a rough embrace. Heart now falling back to its rightful place in relief, you hugged your man back.

His perfume had changed but the natural musk underneath stayed the same, and you clung to that faint comfort, the familiarity. You clung to his sturdy frame, how he still towered over you, how safe you felt in his arms for the precious moment. You felt warm for the first time in years. Tears gathered at your lashes, and fell, and soaked through his clothing, the clothing that smelled like him and home.

“Lord Tengen?”

The moment broke again, and this time you refused to ignore the elephant on the road behind Tengen. Or rather, the three elephants. You took one, two, three stumbling steps back.

“Who are these women, Tengen?” you asked, voice thick and trembling. The wild emotional ride you were on was taking its toll on you. Your eyes flitted between him and the three.

Tengen’s smile was a bit wobbly, something you had never seen in your life. Was he that surprised to see you? Or did he know you wouldn’t like hearing what he would tell you? Who are these women and why are they with my husband?

“[Name]-” his voice broke, he cleared his throat. “[Name], these are my wives - Suma, Hinatsuru, and Makio.”

And with just one word - wives wives WIVES - he shattered your heart. You vaguely heard him introduce you with just your name.

“Forever? You promise?”

“I promise. Just me and you against the world, precious.”

It was while you were walking with all four of them to spend the night that your mind started truly racing.

Your mother used to say nothing hurts more than being hurt by the person you never thought would hurt you. You used to scoff and disregard her wisdom. You were re-evaluating your stance on that.

Fight or flight response warred inside you as you were led to your estate, the estate Tengen bought to share with you as his wife, not with-

Why was he acting as if nothing about this situation was wrong? As if he hadn’t made the careful foundation of your sanity crumble quicker than a house of cards in the breeze?

You stopped right inside the property. You needed to gain control over yourself. You shoved your feelings into your stomach, acid filling your mouth. Your belly ached, from hunger and from stress. You felt as if you were reaching the edge of the void - the void being insanity. One step and you would plunge, spiral downward with no sight of the end.

“Tengen?” you murmured, “Can I talk to you alone, please?” You refused to look anywhere but him, refused to look for what changed and what remained of your- his- their estate.

Throughout the walk to their home, he kept looking at you - for you; tilting his head - listening to your heartbeat. Now he looked torn, glancing at the opened entrance. In the end, he nodded, closed the door and you both stood there, staring at each other.

In the back of your mind, you realized the reason behind his actions, you compartmentalized and understood, but you wanted to hear it, you wanted to know- “Why?”

The question hung in the air like a demented ornament to a festival lantern, except it was set on fire- everything was on fire-

“Precious-” Your heart throbbed in your chest at the nickname. “- please, you were gone.” His voice broke into a low whine and it ached to hear him in such distress. Suddenly, it was as if everything started spilling out. “I never thought it would take that long- I waited and waited and fucking waited and I got no word, no letter, no nothing- I thought- I thought-”

His breath came out in pants as he stepped closer, his arms reaching for you, gripping your shoulders.

“I thought you didn’t-” A high pitched keen left him, unable to say it for the second time that day, the very thought making his heart ache. It brought tears to your eyes as you choked down a sob. “Please-”

Tengen fell to his knees in front of you and the sight of his desperation destroyed what little defences you had. By instinct, you hugged him to your chest, his height allowing him to rest his head against your breast, listening to your heart beat steadily. You started crying, your sobs intertwining with his panting. “Shhh, I’m here, I'm right here, baby…” It wasn’t long before his own choked sobs joined the symphony of grief and emotional release. “I’m here, I’m fine, we’re fine, we’re alive and- and-”

“I thought I lost you, precious. Each day was torture, you were my missing piece, you are my missing piece. Thank you - thank you for returning- for coming back to me,” he choked out thickly. “Oh lord, what have I done? You fought for your life every day and I- I fucking married Suma, Hina and Makio. Fuck-”

You were weak to his words, to his warmth and his scent. You were weak to the way he hugged you, the way he gasped for breath and the way his tears made your yukata wet.

“You deserve better - a better husband. You deserve someone who would wait for you, not me- I- I don’t deserve you anymore; but fucking hell will I try again. Please, let me try again. I will spend the rest of my life on my knees in front of you if you just give me just this one chance-” Tengen nearly wailed into your chest, his voice trembling, devastated, as if a dam broke down and the flood of his emotions couldn’t be stopped, decimating barriers and safety measures against such a catastrophe. More tears soaked your yukata, his hands grasping at your clothes desperately, a drowning person clawing for air.

And you weren’t immune.

You cried right along with him, rocking you both back and forth underneath the slowly setting sun, the warm golden hue washing over you in a stark contrast to the turmoil between, around and inside of you two.

As you reeled from the onslaught of pent-up emotions, you felt his chest heaving quicker and quicker, rapidly getting into the unhealthy pace, so familiar to you by now - he was hyperventilating.

“Tengen, baby, look at me-” you rasped out, trying to get him to let go of his impossibly tight grip on you. You heard the sound of fabric tearing. “Baby, c’mon, look. at. me.”

He wasn’t easing his strength. Fuck.

You tugged at his ponytail, gently, then rougher, then as harsh as you dared, his headband slipping askew from it. “Tengen! Let go!”

He gasped for air, staring at you as if you were a saint or an angel stepped down from Heaven and a death god about to pull him to Hell all at once. His face was flushed, lashes dewy, cheeks puffy from crying. It was the most terrified, the most pathetic you've ever seen him.

But was he really pathetic? You were his wife, who left on a mission, who kept away for years and years, who hadn’t written a letter to him once, who wasn't with him when his last brother died, who just returned and wrecked his new life like a typhoon.

"Tengen, breathe."

Perhaps it was you who did not deserve to come back, to disrupt his new relationships and drive a wedge into a scabbed-over wound, making it bleed all over again.

More of your tears fell as you attempted to smile, though it came out more like a grimace most likely. "Breathe slowly, mkay? I'm here. You can hear my heartbeat, can’t you? Match my breathing. Can you do that for me?"

His breathing gradually deepened and his eyes lost the hazy look.

"I'm Uzui [Name], your wife, we're at the house you bought with your money when we were fourteen. It's Friday, sundown. Are you with me, Tengen?" you asked softly.

Tengen blinked a few times, looking up at you. “[Name]...” Your hand was still clutching his hair tightly, the slight pain grounding him further. He wanted to say Please baby, take me back, hug me, kiss me, fuck me- “You can let go now,” he said instead. The yearning he felt for you was quickly buried underneath a thick blanket of shinobi training, analyzing the situation.

“Sorry.” As if burned, you quickly released him.

You stared at each other for a long moment in silence, perhaps realizing the complexity of the situation you were in. You wanted to be back with him, and he wanted to be back with you, but you both perceived his new wives as a sort of betrayal, whether by infidelity or values you stood by.

For the first time, Tengen looked at you, really looked.

There were dark eye bags underneath your puffy eyes, betraying your lack of sleep, deep set stress lines marred your pretty face. There was a new scar at the corner of your lips, so small it almost went unnoticed. Your hair was much shorter than it used to be, but the disheveled state was caused by the wind, not necessarily by neglect. Though, he could pick up some not quite right strands, cut by an amateur hand. Would you let him fix it? Would you even let him get close with something sharp? Would you trust him? What had happened to you?

You were thinner, the colorful yukata hiding your figure only little to his observant eyes. He stared, analyzed and wondered - what else is that plain cotton yukata hiding?

What really went down in that God-forsaken mission?

You giggled nervously, as Tengen took his time to unwrap your clothes like a present. He had a joyful grin on his face, just as nervous yet better at hiding it.

“Hey, hey, it’s not fair that only I am naked, you know?” Using a grappling move he himself taught you, you quickly reversed your positions, him laying down on the futon and you straddling his hips. He gave you a wide-eyed look, face flushed at your display of skill. His hands cradled your hips, his fingerless gloves scratching your skin slightly.

You gave him a quick peck on his lips and then focused on unraveling his top. As flashy as always, it was a complicated thing, making you grow frustrated quickly. With a growl, you reached into his thigh holster and took out a kunai, slashing his shirt open.

“Hey! That’s my favorite!” he protested with a pout, not really mad. You were already kissing your way down his exposed chest, playfully biting at his nipple. His breath hitched.

“It was your favorite. I’m your new favorite now,” you grinned in triumph as he rolled his eyes, giving you a gentle slap on your ass. The material of his gloves gave you a slightly burning feeling as he caressed the quickly reddening spot.

You sat up in his lap and took his left hand in yours, quickly stripping him of his glove. His right hand was bare before you knew it, but something drew your attention.

Tengen had a beauty mark near the pulse point. Guided by instinct or fate, your lips pressed against it, his heartbeat quickening beneath them. You made eye contact. His magenta eyes could have hearts in them; such a lovestruck look was novel on him. It warmed you from the inside that he let you so close to his vulnerable point - his wrist so breakable; his hand would have been useless if you just twisted with the right amount of pressure; if you decided to bite him and make him bleed out.

It was getting too serious for you, too deep. The entire moment was already making you feel too vulnerable, it being your first time. To break the moment, one of your hands went to his side to tickle him. Tengen noticed, and was quicker.

Both of you dissolved into a gasping laughing pair of teenagers, for once feeling your age.

The yukata he gave you was silk. Your calloused hands hadn’t felt such a material for a long time - years, in fact. The fabric had a pattern of a turtle-shell in golden hues of autumn intertwined with faded green and red details. You recognized it faintly, but couldn’t place where you saw it.

Slipping it on felt like Heaven, like laying down into fluffy clouds if you could reach them - and you were so tired, you wanted to lay down in them. Yet you couldn’t, it was just the morning and your stomach grumbled in hunger, reminding you the last time you ate was yesterday morning.

The three new- other wives had left early in the morning. You heard their teary good-byes to Tengen from your room’s opened window, the mission they were being sent on apparently dangerous. Promises to write letters were exchanged, the women well-versed in what Tengen expected of them for such a task.

Return to me alive, in one piece. If your life is at risk, abandon the mission and come back home.

Was your disappearance the reason he cared for each as such?

You pondered on things past, present and future as you crept into the kitchen. Thankfully, every room remained as it used to be. The room you slept in was actually supposed to be your own lounge room, where Tengen would not enter, where you could keep your privacy and spend time alone. He had his own, or at least used to have one. With three other occupants, it was hard to guess if he kept it or gave it away to one of them.

There was a breakfast ready for you already, a lone spread for one at the head of the table. You stared at it and tried to imagine how it would look with all of them. Did Tengen sit at the head or did he sit in between his wives? Did they all sit differently each time?

Could you handle being the fourth wife?

You didn’t know. The idea seemed unfathomable yesterday.

You hid in your room the whole day after eating. The sun was setting slowly, creating a warm hue in your little burrow.

The dream you had had during the night brought a bone-deep ache for what was - what used to be. You felt exhausted from all the thinking; you were almost certain you could accept the new-wives situation, but it entirely depended on their attitude and personalities as well as Tengen’s approach to this whole scenario.

A knock interrupted the sound of silence you slowly came to enjoy that day. “[Name]?” came Tengen’s muffled voice. “Are you there?”

For a moment, you were tempted to remain silent, though you knew he knew you were in there. He could hear your hitched breath when he knocked, your heart beating, your clothes rustling.

In the end, you resisted and said, “Come in.”

He opened the sliding door slowly, revealing his hunched over frame. It was surprising to see the normally confident man in such disposition, even despite the chaos of the past twenty four hours.

Tengen stood at the threshold of your space, not really looking at you, instead staring at your collarbone, which stood out sharper than it used to. “May I-?” He still asked for permission to enter. Your heart swelled with affection, nearly cracking in half from the overwhelming strength of your feelings.

“You may come in, yes,” you told him, sitting up on the futon you laid on before he came. “What brings you here?”

He took a hesitant step forward, then another and another until he knelt at your side a respectful distance away from you. “I want to- no, I need to know, what has happened to you?”

You freeze, breath stuttering at his question. Your hands clutched at the blanket covering your legs.

Tengen knew he hit a sensitive spot and he didn’t want to press you further but this was a matter of utmost importance to him - he had to know what happened to you so he could help you, fix the ache and make it right. It was for both - for you and for him.

“Show me, precious, please,” he whispered hoarsely. “Show me what’s hiding under your shield, under that yukata, please…” His voice broke as he bowed his head humbly.

Your head buzzed with thoughts, mental barriers rising and crumbling at the speed of light, incessant battle between hope and desolation. In the end, all you could do was empty your head, shove your emotions down to your stomach and show him all of yourself - let him be the judge and executioner of your future.

You slowly got up to your knees and loosened your obi with the resignation of a soldier walking to frontlines.

The yukata he gave you was silk. For the first time in a long time, sliding a cloth off your body didn’t send fire down your nerves from the pain. Inch by inch, familiar and unfamiliar parts of you were revealed to his intense stare.

You knew what he saw. Hideous scars and disfigured flesh. And compared to his new wives? You were nothing. It was a harsh reminder of the chasm of worth between you and the three.

The yukata slipped all the way down and you had the urge to cover yourself again.

“Oh, precious…”

Tengen’s voice sounded muffled to you as you focused on a wall decoration behind his form, your mind blocking out its stressor. There was a kakejiku, a hanging scroll, with a blood-red cherry tree and black flower petals. It sparked a memory deep in your mind, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. There were exactly eight roots but only one branch, and the inversion of the usual colors was so strange.

“-ious? Precious, please answer me-”

You snapped out of it and exhaled, the sound closer to a death rattle than a breath. “What-?”

He was much closer than before, looking you in the eyes rather than staring at your body. His hands were outstretched as if he wanted to hold you but he wasn’t touching you.

Your focus snapped back like a badly tied rope under pressure. Body. Scars. Mission. Tengen.

Tengen, Tengen, Tengen.

“Precious, please, tell me-”

The half-feral look in his eyes broke you, cracked you open. “I was stretched too thin… I didn’t know what-” You stopped yourself before you started spilling everything. Despite it being over, you couldn’t disclose what exactly happened, it was too ingrained inside of you - a kunoichi from birth. “I was losing my sight of the end… I wished for it to end, I wished to go home, to you.”

“You’re home, I’m here. Please, let me in, precious. Please.”

“... I was losing my mind,” the admission was hushed. Even the nature outside seemed to quieten down for you. “I thought of ending it.”

‘-of ending myself’ went unspoken, but Tengen heard it, loud and clear. His heart thundered in his chest, drowning out all else than your breathing, your heartbeat.

“Can I touch you?”

You turned to him, staring at his hands as if they were knives.

“Can I touch just your hands then?” The tremor of his voice betrayed the way he felt. He offered his own to you, palms up and relaxed, as if giving an offering to something divine, way more than you yourself were. “Please.”

Hesitantly, and oh so slowly, you reached out to him. You hovered your hands above his for a moment, watching to see if he would grab you. When he didn’t, you made contact. His body seemed to run much hotter than before, warming your cold skin. There were more calluses - different ones than before.

The feeling of his warm palms against yours sent shivers down your spine. You looked him in the eyes, both of you nearly holding your breath as the moment lingered.

His hands - so huge compared to yours - slid up your arms oh so slowly. His left hand encountered a jagged piece of flesh first. He froze. Taking a deep breath, Tengen shuffled to your right side. On the back of your shoulder reaching halfway down your arm was a burn scar, ugly and twisted, you knew. Phantom pain throbbed in the skin.

He leaned down. A feather light kiss was placed upon the start of the scar, then another an inch above it, his hot breath and soft lips making it feel better. There was nothing else you could focus on other than his gentle kisses being laid all over the rough flesh.

Every touch of his lips against your skin felt like absolution, like validation, like worship. But that couldn't be right - you deserved no absolution, no worship. You deserved to rot, you should have never come here, to him. You should have realized he'd have a life already, a new wife or three and- and-

His searing hot palms trailed over your shoulder blades, gentle, almost not there. You glanced over your shoulder; he’d closed his eyes, perhaps respecting your privacy despite touching you so intimately, reaching deep into the hurt of your body and soul, soothing you.

His touch brushed down your back, large palms encompassing the entirety of it as he went down, over your panties to-

His breath hitched. Your heart seemed to stop. His thumbs reached the first scar of your thighs, the first of many many many carved into your thighs and calves, each one deliberate, each as ugly as the previous, meant to hurt and humiliate. These were not battle scars. Only one thing could cause this.

You could still hear the cracks, loud like thunder and burning furrows into your skin, tearing the flesh asunder.

And then there was a kiss.

Your thighs quivered and gave out, arms colliding harshly with the ground, a shock of pain that made you cry out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks.

"[Name]!"

You fell over onto your forearms, cradling your head in your hands as you started to sob. The tatami dug into your skin, distracting you from the emotional turmoil. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine- This. Is. Nothing.” You panted and shivered but started to calm down bit by bit.

Two warm hands were touching your hips lightly, a reassuring skin contact, not moving, just there.

“I’m fine now,” you breathed out shakily.

The hands trembled and the next kiss on your thigh was wet. His hot breath washed over your skin. You were suddenly too sensitive.

His lips made contact with each scar, again and again he kissed away the memories and the pain.

Wet droplets fell onto your calves, one by one, soothing over your heated skin. The sensation made your tears come faster, staining the tatami floors as you shook all over.

You could not believe how he made you feel so loved, cherished, with such a simple gesture as kissing your scars. Tengen, your husband, your one and only, the reason you came out of that mission alive and with your limbs intact.

“Pl-please-” You didn’t know what you were begging for but he gave it to you either way. His lips were more trailing over the skin than kissing by then, his tongue darting out to lick at the tears he left on your calves.

His palms moved up your body gently once he’d kissed the bone-deep ache away, rough palms so soft over your bottom, spine, shoulder blades - the burn scar - and only then did you notice he knelt at your side. You were still hunched over, blind to everything but your sense of touch and hearing his voice.

Tengen whispered, “Precious… Get up- for me? Please.”

Your limbs were shaky like a newborn foal as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Eyes teary, only a Tengen-shaped blob was clear to you. “‘m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You heard more than saw him kneel in front of you, his fingers gentle as he wiped away your tears. “Never apologize.”

His own face was slightly puffy from crying, and wasn’t that an unflashy sight? The great shinobi Tengen, kneeling over your nearly naked form, jaw clenched, crying nearly as much as you, a wild look in his eyes, feral with grief.

You saw that look in his eyes once before, when his brothers…

His hands trembled when he cradled your cheeks, his breath shaky when he kissed your forehead. “You’re so brave, so strong… I’m glad you’re back, that you’re here, with me. I now realize this, before you came back… my world was in black and white. When I saw you on the street yesterday, it was as if you were the only thing in color. You brought color back into my life,” he admitted in a choked whisper. “I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Rain started to pelt the roof outside the room, distant thunder echoing faintly.

“I’ll always love you, scars and all. This is my promise, now and forever, precious, til death do us part.”

Your thoughts tangled in messy knots, your brain telling you one thing and Tengen telling you the other. You had no chance to even begin searching for the start or the end of the whole disarray that was your mindscape.

A long exhale from the man in front of you drew your attention. His gentle palms continued their journey down your body, caressing down your neck, chest, torso…

Tengen stopped- stopped moving his hands, stopped breathing. Smooth flesh caught his notice, way too smooth. Wild eyes looked down. Bright red and shiny, half torn, half precise cut scar spanning the length of your stomach. His fingertips traced it softly, yet it still sent shockwaves of pain down your nerves.

You flinched-

He made a sound of distress.

- your mind bringing forth the memory before you could focus on anything else.

You realized what you had to do in that second. It couldn’t stay inside.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Your hand fumbled with the only kunai you kept poison-free and pointed it to the sluggishly bleeding wound, panting heavily. “It’s okay, it’s okay, [Name]. Your hands are the steadiest of the family. You skinned fugu fish for Tengen regularly. This is nothing.”

This is nothing.

The tip of the knife was buried deep underneath the skin.

This is nothing.

The kunai pressed into your belly and you made a quick and precise cut, widening the stab wound.

This is Nothing.

You dropped the kunai and the fingers of your dominant hand delved inside the opening.

This Is Nothing.

Tears fell down your cheeks at the nauseating and painful feeling, trying to focus on the feeling on your fingertips instead.

This Is NOTHING.

You found the shrapnel. It embedded itself into your finger as you pulled it out.

THIS IS NOTHING.

You vomited.

“-ame]? [Name]! You’re with me, with Uzui Tengen. You’re in my- our estate. It’s night time, Saturday. [Name], can you hear me? Please, answer me, precious. I can’t- can’t-”

The mission madness receded, the fog in your mind clearing up. You were panting heavily, sweating as if you had a fever. “Ten- gen-”

“I’m here, I’m right here, precious. What did I do wrong? What did I do? Say the word and I’ll fix it- please-”

“S-stop-” you tried to focus on something other than his frantic energy.

His hands, so warm, holding your waist lightly. His thumbs, so gentle, caressing the skin in circles. His scent, so home, calming you down.

Tengen’s presence tethered you back to Earth.

“Don’t talk,” you choked out. You had to focus.

What could you see? Tengen, tatami mats, silk yukata, futon, the hanging scroll.

What could you hear? Your heavy breathing, rain, Tengen’s soft breaths, your pounding heart.

What could you feel? The cold air, the tatami mats, Tengen’s warmth.

“Okay, okay,” you breathed out softly. The tight downward spiral winding in your chest released slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth. In, and out.

“You don’t have to tell me anything- I’m so so sorry. What can I-? Is there anything I can-?”

You took his hands in yours and squeezed tightly twice. Are you okay? He squeezed back once. Yes.

“Breathe… I’m fine now.” His breathing cadence was very close to hyperventilating. Guilt crept up your spine. You’d brought the Great Shinobi Tengen, your husband, to his knees twice in just as many days. You should suffer for such a crime for Ten Thousand Years.

“You’re not fine, precious. You’re far from- But you’re here with me, I will make it be fine. Give me a chance-”

The air was practically saturated with emotion, tension and everything between Hell and Heaven imaginable. You clutched each other’s hands with desperation. You kept eye contact - an uncontrollable typhoon holding its breath in anticipation, before it unleashed its full power.

He kissed you with the hunger of a starving dog. It was clear he was fighting with himself, alternating erratically between devouring you and feather-light kisses so tender it made your toes curl. He bit you and soothed the bite, he caressed you and lapped at you. It was dizzying.

You were just as thirsty for him though, positively parched for his kisses, his affection, his taste and his love. You savored every second of it, as if you would die should you separate but for a millisecond.

“I burn for you,” he breathed against your lips, diving in once more.

You remembered the times when he ate you out for his pleasure, how he nearly got off of it more than you did. But today, this time, you wouldn’t be able to handle such vulnerability, your emotions too raw from… whatever that was a few minutes ago - validation? Worship?

At the same time you needed him, needed the closeness sex brought to you both. And the same need drove you to break the kiss and push him onto his back as you straddled his hips. He let you, surrendering to you completely despite your feeble strength compared to his. You made quick work of his obi and pulled his yukata open.

An amused huff left you when you saw he had no underwear. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Tengen blushed in embarrassment. “Maybe…” he muttered.

You smirked a little, “Impossible man.”

“Your impossible man, always yours.” He gave you a soft look, a smile gracing his handsome features. His arms remained relaxed, not reaching to pull down your underwear at all, content to be the perfect pillow princess.

That was fine, you wanted to set the pace anyway.

With a quick movement, your panties were off. You ground against his quickly-hardening member, your slick quickly covering him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he took a deep breath through his nose, eyes lidded.

Before he could stop you, you were lining him up to your entrance, going right for his cock like an overly eager virgin. The stretch burned like nothing else. You had to take your time, bullying more and more with quick shallow thrusts onto him. You kept going despite the pain for if you stopped, you wouldn’t be able to continue.

“You’re doing amazing, precious,” he ground out, doing his best not to slam you down onto his length. It’s been too long for you, and really, he should have prepared you, but you were so impatient you couldn’t last a second longer without him inside.

When you bottomed out, you sighed in relief, staying seated and cockwarming your husband for the first time in years. You hadn’t even noticed you started to weep quietly until Tengen’s thumbs wiped your tears away.

Something drew your attention though.

There was a small beauty mark near the heel of his right palm, right by his pulse point. Eyes focused on only that mark, your hand grasped his wrist gently and pulled it closer to your lips. You kissed the beauty mark, a feather-light brush of your lips, his heartbeat jumping at the action.

His eyes held yours prisoner when you looked up. The soft look he was giving you nearly made you tear up again, feeling too vulnerable. Instead of that, you rolled your hips.

The reaction was immediate, his head fell back, mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ at the spasm of your muscles. The movement stirred your guts uncomfortably, telling you you weren’t adjusted to him filling you up again yet.

“Fuuuhck-” he groaned. His hands gripped your hips in a tight hold, almost bruising. Tengen seemed to have realized what he was doing a moment later and let up, just holding you gently. “Ngh- you’re making me crazy, love.”

His cock kept twitching inside of you, and it had to be hard to hold back on fucking up into you. Well, you guessed this would be his punishment for all the crying you did today. You already knew you’d have a headache tomorrow.

“Can I-” his hesitant words drew your attention to him again, “can I touch you, please?” Tengen was biting his lip, his eyes practically filled with desperation.

You paused - and nodded.

One of his hands trailed down to your clit, circling it with his thumb gently. By this point, your slick reached it, so the caresses were smooth and pleasurable. He stared at where the two of you connected intently as if he was trying to memorize the sight.

Each little brush of his finger, you relaxed around his length more and more and one slow touch in particular made your hips jerk from the sudden pleasure. Your breath hitched in your throat and you closed your eyes.

“You were made for me,” Tengen murmured, not stopping his work. He had an urge, a need to worship you, to make you feel good, make you feel so good that you would never think of leaving him. You would never leave, you would stay right where you are, forever content to warm his cock inside your plush pussy, letting him be the sole reason for your life. He wanted that, craved it even - making you stay and be his wife again. But- “I don't deserve this, don't deserve you.”

When your eyes finally opened again, they were filled with unshed tears. “I love you, I never stopped loving you,” you choked out. Saying those words felt like absolution. Previously unnoticed heavy weight fell off your shoulders and you reached for both of his hands - stopping his slow motions on your clit - with your own, intertwining them in an intimate hold.

“Then make me yours again, please, please take me. I need it, I need you,” he told you in a hushed whisper, a flush taking over his face as he studied your figure above him.

You reveled in his attention, savored it, starting a slow pace, using your connected hands for support. “Mhm~” The drag of his thick cock against your sensitive walls felt amazing. You’d nearly forgotten how good it felt to have him inside of you, how good it felt to be linked together like this - two pieces of puzzle completing the whole picture.

“There- chase your pleasure-” he whimpered as you rolled your hips every time you bottomed out, desperate for more friction. “Use me, my body, my cock, whatever you need, precious."

You tried to find the right angle, the one that made you scream back when you were younger. “I’ve missed you so much-” your breath hitched in your throat when his tip hit just right inside of you and you closed your eyes. You let out a breathy Fuck when you repeated the action, your pussy spasming around him. Every sensation seemed heightened. You couldn’t get enough.

Now that you’ve hit your stride, your pace went from slow and sensual to quick and sloppy. Tengen offered all the support with his steady hands as you needed. The whole act was so familiar, yet new in so many ways. His breathing pattern was different while he was balls-deep in you; yours was too - your body was long ways from your top form when you were a teenager, but he seemed to be stronger than ever.

He appeared to be as lost in the pleasure as you were starting to be. “You look so beautiful- ngh- bouncing on my cock-!” he ground out between clenched teeth. “You’re so tight.”

His hips bucked up on accident, making you cry out. A coil was winding inside of you; you were balancing on the precipice of your first orgasm in what seemed like forever, sensitive to every small shift of your connected bodies. The anticipation of what was coming kept you going despite the burn in your thighs.

Tengen’s hands clenched yours tighter. You peeked at him with half-lidded eyes, still chasing your release urgently.

His mouth hung open, nearly drooling, chest heaving with soft pants; eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed, his entire expression as if he were in pain instead of rearranging your guts - as if he were the one who was getting his insides rearranged. A bright blush on his face was just a highlight of the whole picture.

The sight just hurled you closer to the edge with the speed of sound. Your pussy clung to his cock impossibly tight.

“Fuck- You’re close, I can feel it-” he said in a strained voice, almost wheezing. His eyes opened, tears falling from the intensity of his pleasure.

The thickly-wound knot snapped.

Your mouth fell open, agape. A loud stuttered moan echoed in the room, much more high-pitched than you thought yourself capable of. Tengen whimpered underneath you as you clutched his hands with a death-grip.

“There you go. You’re so beautiful…”

Your ears rang, his voice a muffled background noise. Your hips jerked involuntarily with another shock of pleasure, squeezing around him again. “Fu- precious - hah - you milk my cock just as good as I remember…”

You slowly came down from your high, drained. Your thighs trembled despite sitting your whole weight on his lap. Sweat ran down your back, your ribs and your hair stuck to your face yet you could care less when you looked your love in the eyes with a new clarity in your mind.

He always made you feel amazing - in bed and out of it. You would give this new form of marriage a chance. Once the three wives returned from their mission, you would give them a chance. All this, just for Tengen.

“Can I…?” The question was hesitant, and your heart swelled with affection for this man, for your husband. He was so gentle with you, as if you would break like glass if handled improperly.

“Use me for your pleasure, Tengen,” you smiled warmly.

“Oh lord-” His eyes nearly rolled back into his skull when you gave him permission so sweetly.

He grabbed you by your waist, lifting you a little, pace sloppy and so wet each thrust came with a loud squelch as he fucked up into you roughly.

“I- won’t- last-” his thrusts stuttered very quickly in his frantic race to finish fast. Poor Tengen must have been about to cum when you had your release, yet he held back to not overwhelm you. “Fuck!”

“Don’t hold back, give it to me. Cum, Tengen.”

“Oh god- Yes. Yes-” The sound he emitted was an unholy guttural moan, his whole body shook, tears gathering at his lash line. He pressed harshly against your cervix, spurts of cum painting your inner walls white and filling you to the brim.

You caught your breath slowly. “There is no god up here…”

Tengen grinned lazily at you and panted out, “... other than- Me. You- hah - you remembered.”

He kept rutting into you with very slow thrusts, shallow yet so deep, as if he wanted to force more of his cum inside. His cock kept twitching and his thighs shook, the muscles of his abdomen jumping and rolling underneath his skin.

His semen leaked out around him mixed with your juices. Only when pleasure turned into pain of overstimulation did he stop. “You make me dizzy. You’ve always made me so dizzy…” He pulled you down to him, your head against his chest and his arms encircling you in a blanket of safety and warmth.

You melted in his embrace, breathing in his scent combined with yours. The smell of sex was heady, and would have sent you both into another quick rut before your mission. Neither of you moved though, you kept his cock and cum warm and he kept your body warm, a perfect harmony of two lovers.

“We should clean up soon,” Tengen whispered, making no move to get up.

“I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to stay here, in your arms…” Your words had a double meaning. Your husband was your soul’s mate, and as such, he picked up on both, understanding your meaning in between.

“Then stay, don't go.” Instead of moving you, he reached for the blanket and threw it over both of you. “I’m so lucky I have you back… The luckiest… I feel like I could fly. You bring Heaven down to me, precious,” he murmured, stroking your back gently.

The simple gesture brought back so many memories, though foggy as they may be. You decided that it wasn’t such a bad thing. You could look back once in a while, but you needed to go forward and rebuild what was broken. And you had the best helper for that - after all, who was stronger than the Great Shinobi Tengen.

“I love you, Uzui Tengen.”

The idea of a first wife coming home to three more has been living rent-free in my mind for months. I'm making it your problem.

There might be part 2 but only after my brain recuperates from this entire work.

Part 2

#desi writing #uzui tengen x reader #uzui tengen #tengen x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #smut #angst #KNY fic #demon slayer fic #kakushino

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dragonbarbie · 2 months ago

Text

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 | Part 2

aegon x best friend!reader ; modern!au

series summary: this fic is snippets of aegon and reader's relationship as they grow up and discover new feelings. but to let himself be loved, aegon has to first do some growing up. loosely inspired by the tv series one day!

rating: 18+, minors dni.

tags: alcohol, substance abuse, making out, titty sucking, blink and youll miss it dry humping (lmk if i missed something)

word count: 5.1k

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A/N: im so overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter! im so sorry this took so long, this chapter was originally well over 8k so ive just decided to split it, which means the next chapter is pretty much ready maybe ill have it up by wednesday. thank you so much to everyone who interacted, hope you like this. [not beta read!]

lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

divider credit @cafekitsune ! title of fic is from 'peter' by taylor swift.

Age 18

“i think that’s enough pictures, mum.” y/n held up her arms to shield herself from any more photographs her mother might take. she felt self-conscious enough already, grimacing at every picture, thinking how the flaws glaringly stood out. her parents thought she looked beautiful as always though, and wanted as many photos as possible to keep as memories of their daughter’s special night. only she didn’t want to believe there was anything so ‘special’ about it anyway.

she heard an impatient car honk coming from outside, just in time for her to make her exit. “let me at least take a picture of you and your date.” her well-meaning mother attempted, earning a whine from her daughter, “for the last time he’s not my date.” not really he wasn’t, they were just going as mates, nothing more, she reminded herself as she waved her parents a quick goodbye.

then why did her stomach flutter seeing aegon leaning against his irritatingly green, flashy sports car. taking a drag of his cigarette, his platinum hair was mostly gelled back, few strands allowed to fall to his eyes either fashionably or as a result of hurry. he was dressed simply, black suit and a white shirt. but seven hells did he wear the hell out of that suit, y/n had to admit. he looked neater than usual, the light stubble he usually carried had now been shaved off, his eyes didn’t look nearly as red as she was accustomed to. he even wore dress shoes, when truthfully y/n had been betting on him showing up in his usual jordans.

she couldn’t help but beam as she realised walking towards him, that all this effort he had made for her. aegon hadn’t even wanted to go to their senior prom. he’d said he would simply throw the after-party for the prom back at his mansion, where he wouldn’t be required to ‘come dressed as a penguin,’ in his words. the entire school knew about aegon’s famous ragers by now, and the night of senior prom was guaranteed to be the greatest ‘one-last-hurrah’.

it was y/n who had wanted to go, in order to live the full high school experience before they would be forced to enter the adult world after summer. and there was no one else she would have rather taken to prom. so, after countless hours begging and pleading (and some threatening), aegon finally relented. but his acquiescence hadn’t guaranteed to her that he would even bother following the dress code. yet, here they were.

she was going to comment on what a pleasant surprise it was to see him look like a ‘penguin,’ when she saw the look on his face. his eyes were suddenly alert and his mouth slightly agape, cigarette in his hand forgotten momentarily with his hand hanging still in the air holding it.

“what is it? do i have something on my face? on the dress?” she patted her cheek in alarm, before looking down at her dress. she’d chosen a simple black, satin dress that hugged her just right, pairing it with the deepest red lipstick she could find. she smoothened the front in anxiety, scared her high heels were going to make her trip on the fabric any second.

“no, it’s just...you look nice. very pretty.” her eyes focussed on aegon’s trying to gauge his expression, but his gaze remained transfixed on her figure.

“is it that shocking that i would look pretty, that you have to go and make that face?” she snorted. that snapped aegon’s attention back to her face with an eyeroll, “i didn’t mean it like that and you know it. you look good, would it kill you to just take the compliment?” her lips turned upwards at his words, “yeah i’m just messing with ya.” she tried to hide how the praise made her feel warm inside her chest.

“you don’t look so bad yourself, targaryen. look you’re even wearing the shoes and everything.” aegon grinned at the words giving a quick twirl to show off his full look. “who knew you had it in you?” she teased.

“had to step up my game. can't let my date outshine me, can i?"

date? the word rang in her ears. did aegon think this was an actual date?

“oh, please,” she tried to maintain a cool façade, seemingly uncaring of his words, “i've always outshined you.”

“only because i let you.” he claimed, flashing her one of those lazy half smiles of his that would make her mind wander to what else he was capable of doing with those lips—

she immediately shook her head to get that image out of her mind.

“got you something. well, technically mum got you something” aegon opened the passenger seat of the car, and retrieved from it a beautiful, very expensive looking bouquet. “she wouldn’t let me leave the house without flowers for my date” there it was, that word again, ‘date’! she thought, astonished as she received them.

did aegon think this was a date? a date-date? was he expecting something? did she expect something? her mind started to race with a hundred things.

she had to clear her throat to bring herself back to the present, “these are beautiful, tell alicent i love them.”

“great, can we go now? i want to get the boring part over with so we can properly party later at my place.”

the prom itself ended up being less dreadful than aegon had been sure it was going to be. aegon spiked the drinks, and then proceeded to get his friends leon and martyn as drunk as possible. it didn’t escape y/n’s notice that aegon himself, was merely buzzed. she even dared to hope for a second that he was limiting his cups out of respect for her, and her very known hatred of his drinking himself into blackouts.

he remained clear-headed enough to laugh about and reminisce with her over their years at the academy. “no, i remember clearly, you’ve never once said sorry about making me fall on my first day.” y/n accused as she attempted to drink the very strong punch aegon had made for her. “and i remember very clearly, you came in my way.”

she narrowed her eyes at his blatant lie. “cunt.” he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at her drunken-vitriol. “and i think that’s quite enough for you.” he grabbed the cup out of her hands in spite of protests. “good gods, aegon targaryen preaching moderation? must be the apocalypse.” she nudged him playfully.

in that moment, smiling and laughing with her best friend, she couldn’t help but realise that this time of their life was coming to an end. come fall, they would be on different sides of the country.

y/n had been accepted at her first choice, sunspear university only weeks ago, but she hadn’t discussed it with aegon. he hadn’t spoken of his plans for university either but helaena had told her that their grandfather was using his pull to get him into the family alma mater, oldtown college.

any time she had attempted to so much as talk about life beyond school with aegon himself though, aegon would get irritated and cagey, eager to shut down any and all conversations about the future. then again she couldn’t blame him, for some reason her first instinct too had been to hide that acceptance letter from him.

yet as they stood there, she had a feeling that he was thinking about the same great uncertainty that lay ahead too. thinking, that their days of being by each other’s side like this every day were numbered.

“come on” he suddenly offered her his arms, getting a puzzled look in return. “you wanted the ‘full high school experience’ right? dancing at prom is kinda the main thing.”

she let him lead her to the dance floor, feeling her cheeks going red. he brought them right in the middle, and when he placed her arms around his neck, his own hands becoming placed around her waist, she couldn’t find a word to say.

couples around them were slow dancing to some song she couldn’t quiet place, and she couldn’t believe that aegon had willingly placed himself in the scene around them. this suit, the shoes, the dancing, the flowers – none of it was remotely close to his scene. yet she had barely heard him complain. she had to give it to him, he had been on his best behaviour because he knew how much the night meant to her.

“thank you,” she finally said, looking at him with adoration in her eyes. “for agreeing to come.”

aegon’s expression was unreadable at first. after a second he seemed like he was going to lean in towards her to say something, when his eye caught something behind y/n shoulder.

she turned her neck to see who it was and felt her heart drop down in her stomach.

cassandra baratheon, the most sought-after girl at school, her golden hair and confident demeanour were hard to miss. y/n looked up to see aegon was transfixed on the tight red dress she wore.

she felt his hands drop from her waist, “get you something to drink?” but he didn’t so much as look at his friend.

“sure” she mumbled, trying to mask her disappointment, but he didn’t wait for a response before he started walking towards the blonde.

she watched as aegon approached cassandra, his charm on full display. y/n sighed, tired of how predictable his routine was. she danced with a few classmates, trying to keep her spirits up, but it wasn’t the same without aegon.

after a while, she grew tired of pretending and slipped out of the ballroom, certain she wasn’t going to be followed by the only person she wanted to be with. she started walking in the direction of her home, too angry to think to call someone to pick her up.

the sound of her heels against the pavement and the chattering of her own teeth from the unexpectedly cold night couldn’t distract her from her woeful thoughts.

she should have expected this, she chided herself. aegon’s attention had always been fleeting, especially when it came to pretty girls. but it still hurt. she had hoped, maybe just for tonight, things would be different. at the beginning of the night he’d been giving her all his attention, and making her feel as if she was the only one who mattered in that room.

yet, he had to go ahead and ruin that, by chasing one more skirt to add to his long list of distractions from anything that could actually matter.

when she reached her house she was grateful her parents had long since gone to bed, not wanting to talk about her night. she walked up to her room and changed into some comfortable clothes.

she curled up on her bed, but sleep seemed to escape her. she tossed and turned but she could not forget the look on her best friend’s face when he looked at cassandra baratheon, ignoring her. she couldn’t help but wish that the way his eyes trailed down her figure, the open lust with which he watched her, the desire that carried him away from her – she wanted it all to be hers.

it was perhaps the first time she had admitted it to herself. she wanted this, she wanted him and not just as a friend.

her mind then wandered to that one moment of hope she had not dared to let herself dwell on. the way his hands felt rested on her back, how he looked for a split second as if he were going to lean in to her, what might that have felt like if it had been allowed to go on? would he have kissed her? would his lips have felt as soft as they looked? would his tongue—

she didn’t realise when in the middle of all these wandering thoughts her hand had slipped down to underneath her shorts. over the cloth of her panties, she could feel a wetness building as she slowly rubbed the top of her entrance, her imagination building up the tension between her legs.

just as she was getting comfortable though, she got the fright of her life when she heard her window open. “fuck me!” she sat up straight on her bed, clutching her blanket in front of her chest.

she let out an exasperated breath at the now-messy platinum hair glinting in the moonlight, that she could make out even in the darkness of her room. she moved to get up and turn on the lamp next to her bed. the light revealed a slightly different aegon to the one she had left back at the dance, stumbling into her room.

his jacket now gone, his white shirt was untucked and the first few buttons had been left undone (one of them was missing, from what she could tell), the semi-open shirt allowed her to make out lipstick smears trailing his chest. his eyes were red, and the fact that he couldn’t seem to walk straight, told her he’d returned to drinking at his usual pace once she’d made her exit.

“what are you doing here?” she sighed, crossing her arms across her chest, both defensively and because her bra had been long discarded, which left the tank top she wore revealing far too much for her liking.

he almost looked earnest when he answered “came looking for you. you never showed up to the party at my place.”

“yeah, well i don’t like your parties” “sure you do!” he snorted

“no, aegon i don’t! i never have. i only ever come for you and i’m miserable the entire while, and you never notice!”

he looked hurt at her accusation, blinking as if it had never crossed his mind that she didn’t enjoy getting high and causing chaos as much as he did. that hurt quickly turned into anger of his own as he shot back.

“fine, even if you didn’t wanna come to the party, why did you leave prom so early? for weeks it’s all you wanted to do, going to prom. you dragged my ass there and then just ‘puff’ i turn my back for one second, and you’ve disappeared.” he sounded almost as if he felt abandoned, wounded.

“you seemed busy.” she cooly replied.

“busy?” aegon echoed, his brows furrowing. “i was just talking to people.”

y/n shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mix of hurt and frustration. “you always do this, aegon. you leave me for the first pretty girl that catches your eye.”

he shook his head as if y/n were being the unreasonable one here “it’s not like that.”

“then what is it like?” she demanded, her voice rising. “because it feels like you’re always looking for a distraction. and tonight, i needed you.” her eyes burned as tears pooled in them. “it was our last night in school. it meant something.”

he flinched at her words, the truth of how much he had bruised her, cutting through the haze of alcohol. “i didn’t mean to—"

“didn’t mean to what? make me feel invisible?” y/n's voice softened, the anger giving way to sadness. “it’s like you don’t care.”

aegon stood there, steadying himself by leaning against the desk, looking deflated. “i do care, y/n. you’re my best friend.” she could tell he was trying, trying to make her see he cared, trying to be a good friend. the fact that he had left his own party simply to come look in on her, hadn’t gone unnoticed by her.

but unluckily for him, y/n was tired of his constant trying when she knew it never led to any real change.

she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “we need to talk about something else, too. we’ve been avoiding it all year.”

aegon looked up at her, confusion and apprehension mingling in his eyes. “what do you mean?”

“college, aegon. you’re going to oldtown, and i’m headed to sunspear,” y/n said, her voice trembling slightly. “i’ve tried to bring it up, but you always change the subject.”

he looked away from her, fiddling with the rings on his fingers almost anxiously. “because i don’t want to think about it.”

“well too bad, because we have to discuss it” she insisted. “this is big. we’ve never so much as spent one summer break apart, you’ve dragged me to every family vacation and christmas dinner. but come fall, that’s over. you don’t think that’s important enough to even talk about? doesn’t it matter to you at all?”

“of course it matters!” he finally spat out, taking stumbling steps towards her. “i don’t want to talk about it because i know it’ll change everything.”

aegon’s eyes were glassy, his emotions threatening to spill over. “because you’ll be far away, making new friends, living a different life. you get to conveniently walk out on me and my fuck ups. i don’t want to talk about it because you’re leaving me.”

“leaving you?” the aegon that stood before her was shaking like a scared child, gone was the playful, laid back popular boy. for the first time that night, she could see clearly through him, the first time he’d allowed her to.

y/n moved closer, taking his hands in hers. “aegon, i could never leave you.” she promised. “you’re a part of me. distance doesn’t change that.”

“you say that now…” he mumbled, looking away as she caught tears running down his cheek.

“i’m not leaving you,” she repeated, more firmly this time, her heart aching for him. “we’ll find a way to make it work. i promise.”

“do you really mean that?” her hand reached out to his cheek, wiping away his tears with the pad of her thumb. “with all my heart,” she whispered. the vulnerability in his eyes was raw and unfiltered as he confessed “i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t,” she assured him, putting her arms around him as she pulled him into a tight embrace. “we’ll figure it out, together.” she sounded sure, determined.

he clung to her, and she could smell the weed and cigarettes on his shirt, she knew that he wasn’t as clear-headed as he should have been for the conversation they were having. “i don’t know what i’d do without you, y/n.” he muttered into her hair. she smiled against his chest. “lucky for you, you don’t ever have to find out.”

as one of his hands trailed down to her lower back, she suddenly felt her shorts were far too short for her to be having company. his other hand started to rub at her side, his thumb brushing up against the side of her breast and lingering just enough that she knew he could tell she was bare beneath her flimsy cotton top.

they’d been standing in silence for a minute when he suddenly spoke up, “i’m sorry that i mess everything up, you deserved to have me there with you tonight.”

his hand had stopped right by her cleavage, causing her throat to dry up. “it was just a stupid dance.”

“yeah, but it mattered to you.” he brought his other hand to her ass, as he pulled apart slightly to look down at her. her breathing became rapid as she looked back up at him.

in that moment, the tension between them shifted. aegon leaned in, his lips brushing against hers hesitantly. y/n responded, closing the distance again, with more passion.

there was a sense of urgency, a rush as his tongue entered her mouth. the hand on her ass moved to slip past her shorts and panties to grab at her bare skin, causing her to moan into his mouth. her own hands attempted to undo the few remaining buttons on his dress shirt, before letting her fingers roam around his exposed chest.

he pushed them back, till she felt the edge of her bed behind her making her fall back on it, pulling him down with her as she went.

his mouth moved to trail sloppy, wet kisses on her neck, and then down to her collarbone. she could feel him use his teeth, marking her for the next day.

situated as he was between her legs, she could feel his semi-hard on from under his pants, rubbing against her in the most delicious way making her wrap her legs tighter around him, to feel that friction more intensely.

his mouth broke away from her now-sensitive skin momentarily, as he lifted her top enough to expose her breasts to him. his hands roughly gripped the flesh, making y/n gasp with how cool his rings felt pressed to her skin.

his mouth then took in one of her nipples, as she whimpered at the sensation, her fingers pulling his hair as he flicked it with his tongue, before sucking on it.

when he finally lifted his head to look up at y/n, she couldn’t believe the scene before her. in that moment aegon was looking her with a hunger and wanting, that she didn’t think he’d even given cassandra baratheon.

what might come next though, made y/n nervous. she’d never gone this far with a boy before, reasoning with herself that she’d never liked anyone enough. but she could admit to herself now that she’d been waiting to share that experience with aegon, waiting for him to come around.

still, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to go all the way, or how to do it if she was.

thankfully for her, aegon reached ahead and merely kissed her lips once more, softer this time. then, even more unexpectantly, he placed a final, tender kiss atop her head, before climbing off from between her thighs and crashing down on the pillow beside her.

she blinked at the figure of him, lying next to her completely relaxed, as if what they’d just done was so routine, it didn’t warrant another thought. “get that lamp light next to you, would you?” he yawned.

as if in a daze, y/n wordlessly switched the light off, plunging the room into darkness.

she could hear him breathing beside her, close enough to block her nose with the smell of cigarettes she was sure she’d have to wash out of the sheets the next day. but with his pale hair falling like that against his fluttering eyes, she knew he was the only person she wanted, flaws and all.

drowsiness began to take over her after sometime, and she wasn’t sure if she actually heard him mumbling “love you” or if she’d dreamt it but she drifted off with a faint smile on her face nonetheless.

the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over y/n’s room. she stirred awake, stretching out lazily when her eyes fell on to the snoring boy beside her. she couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful his face looked, her hand stretching out to tuck behind the strands of platinum falling to his eyes.

she tried to be as quiet as she could in walking to her bathroom. standing in front of her mirror, she noticed the now purpling hickey right by her collarbone. she still couldn’t quite believe that the events of last night had actually occurred, but the evidence was staring her right in the face. her fingertips grazed the bruise, and the corners of her lips turned upwards automatically.

she washed her face and brushed her teeth in a haze, where all she could think about was what was going to happen next. would she and aegon have a conversation about it, or would he pretend it was nothing? oh god, what if he regretted it? the thought made her tense. instead of going back to her room she sat on the edge of her bathtub, nervously thinking about what impact last night would have on their friendship. she couldn’t imagine losing aegon, she thought. if it came down to taking whatever happened yesterday forward or saving their friendship, she would pick the latter, she determined. before she could lose her nerve, she decided to go back to her room with that thought.

upon her return she realised the object of all her anxiety was already up, rubbing his eyes with his palms and groaning, clearly nursing a hangover. her heart suddenly started to pound in her chest. “you’re up early. it’s not even noon yet.” she teased as she came to sit by him. “and morning to you too” he grumbled.

“how are you feeling?” she hesitantly asked, “like i got hit by a bus,” he said, attempting a weak grin.

she gave him a faint chuckle. she looked around the room as silence filled the space. she was hoping that he’d be the one to bring up last night, rather than making her go through the embarrassment and awkwardness of coming to that topic.

how did you even start that conversation? she wondered as she pulled at a few strands of embroidery coming untethered from the rest of her bedsheet. ‘hey last night was the best kiss i’ve ever had, let’s do it again sometime soon’? no, that wasn’t it. she stole a glance at aegon who had picked up his phone, neither of them having said anything to break the silence. i could start by telling him how i’ve always liked him? no that would definitely activate his commitment-phobia, and he’d go running out the door, she realised. sitting this long without either of them talking felt far too weird and she started to panic slightly.

she kept thinking if he was going to approach the topic, wondering if she should instead, when suddenly aegon got off her bed.

“what have we got here” he walked over to the basket where some of her old toys had been kept for her mother to donate when she went to college. “nothing just some old things” she replied, surprised that this was what he wanted to discuss now. he seemed to be entertaining himself by going through her things as if he hadn’t been in her room a hundred times before.

well, if he was going to avoid it, y/n decided she should be the one to rip off the band-aid. she cleared her throat to start speaking, when he suddenly cut her off, “do you still have that lightsabre i gave you for your 12th birthday? the one that used to light up and all?” “no, because you broke it playing with it in my garden that same day you gifted it.” she reminded him, “right…” he muttered, before going back to his rummaging.

this time she stood up and walked over to him, and started to say, “y’know i think we should talk—” “what’s ollie doing here?” grinning, he grabbed an old red octopus from the basket and lifted one of its stuffed tentacles to wave at her. “did this mean old lady steal you from me ollie?” “no, you stole him from me, remember? and alicent had to return it back” she reminded him, snatching the toy back from him in irritation. if he was going to keep mucking about, she was never going to be able finish what she wanted to say.

she exhaled a big sigh, and built up her courage again, “we have to talk about last night—” “yeah, what did happen last night?”

she could only blink, as aegon nonchalantly asked, not even bothering to look up from the box of broken, dusty toys. “what do you mean ‘what happened’?”

“as in how did i end up in your bed?” he laughed, “don’t remember much after us arriving at prom” her heart sank at his words. “you blacked out.” she said in realisation. she turned around and walked back to sit on her bed so he wouldn’t see her wounded expression.

he didn’t even remember what was possibly one of the biggest moments of her life, something so monumental that she’d woken up this morning as if waking up to a new life. all those years she'd spent unknowingly pining for him, she’d thought that now there was finally some hope that she could actually be with him. but one little sentence from him had made her memory of last night dissipate like a mirage.

what had she even been thinking, he was drunk out of his mind and was probably barely in knowledge of himself when they did what they did last night. it was a mistake, and it should have never happened. she couldn’t control the tears slipping down her cheeks, her back facing aegon to shield herself subconsciously.

“you were pretty drunk. you climbed up to my room and we talked for a while. you fell asleep here.” she answered in robotic narration, not daring a look at him. she wiped her face quickly as she heard him stop with his aimless search and come sit next to her.

“sounds accurate. i do anything stupid i should know about?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern. it was the standard question he asked when he blacked out. for a second, she wondered if she should tell him everything.

y/n shook her head, smiling faintly. “no, you didn't. just needed a place to crash.”

she thought about it rationally – even if they did talk about last night, what was going to be the best-case scenario? he would be glad of what he did? but even then, what would happen next? she was going to dorne, and him to the reach, and a long distance anything was going to be impossible enough. here they were nervous about their friendship surviving the distance, but a relationship? she couldn’t see any way this would end well.

and this was considering if aegon even wanted any of it. last night may have been special for her, but if drunken fooling around and crashing into bed was all it took to get him to pursue someone romantically, half the school was ahead of her in that line.

this was the best thing for both of them, she sadly thought, to preserve their friendship.

him putting his arm across her shoulders and squeezing her brought her out of her miserable thoughts, “thanks for looking out for me, as always.”

“of course,” she replied softly. “that's what friends are for.”

aegon met her gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “yeah, best friends.”

a few minutes later she left momentarily to get herself a glass of water but by the time she returned, her room was empty with her window left open and her red octopus missing once again from her bed.

#aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd imagine #aegon smut #modern!aegon targaryen #aegon x y/n #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x female reader #fics i wrote

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gorgeys · 1 year ago

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Hi! Could you a Naomi x female reader, where her older brother works for Jordan and she meets Naomi at the party and gets a lil jealous when Jordan tries to hit on the reader? Thanks!

FRIENDS? ★ naomi lapaglia

Naomi Lapaglia (Wolf of Wall Street) x fem!reader

You quickly catch Jordan's eye at a party, but Naomi wants you all to herself...

Warnings: mentions of sex, flirting, corruption kink??, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 3110

Note: ayee i'm obsessed with naomi so i loved writing this request! there's also another naomi request that will be coming out shortly and that will def be a long one! i believe in margot robbie supremacy

b/n = brother's name

You stared in awe as you approached the mansion. It was by far the largest house you had ever seen. You looked to your brother and he only smiled. It seems he was adjusting to the shift in your lives much faster than you.

He had only begun working for Jordan a couple months ago when rent was tight and there was barely any food in the fridge. You had just moved in with him to help cut costs for the both of you as you sunk deeper into student loans and edged barely closer to your degree. If things couldn’t get any worse, your brother was laid off from his job out of nowhere. He began interviews for practically every job on Wall Street when your luck changed tremendously. He landed a job at Stratton Oakmont.

He climbed the ranks quickly. You and your brother had quite a unique charisma, one that allowed you to manipulate many social situations in your favor and it was no different at Stratton. With his charm and hard-working attitude, your brother was one of the few to have a personal connection with the founders of the company and he could feel that promotion coming. But it was just out of reach. So he quickly enlisted you to give him a little push.

There was an obvious shift in your lifestyle as soon as your brother got the job. He was able to provide for the both of you plus decorate the apartment and take you out to lavish dinners. Life just seemed so much brighter for the both of you. So you would do anything to keep your lives like this. Even if it meant playing this part.

It was the first time you’d be attending one of Stratton’s famous parties. Your brother let you hang off his arm, dolled up in a completely brand new designer outfit, just how Jordan liked it. Your dress was as short as it could be without being socially unacceptable and your neckline plunged so deep that your tits were nearly popping out. Your heels were custom made and reeled in your flashy dress to make it a classy look. Your make-up was done to a tee, emphasizing the soft features of your face, and your hair was curled into perfect waves. Even your brother, who had teased you all your childhood, agreed you were a sight for sore eyes. There was no way you wouldn’t catch Jordan’s attention.

Everything seemed to fall into place as you entered. Eyes were on you from the moment you stepped inside, men in suits turning their heads to gape while their wives and girlfriends knocked them on the back of the head for looking. You smiled just as you had rehearsed in the mirror and strutted as elegantly as you could muster even if you had to relearn to walk in those tall heels.

Most of the men you passed patted your brother on the shoulder in greeting, eyeing you up in the process. Your brother had to reiterate several times that you were his sister, hoping he’d be able to avoid any risque comments about the two of you for the night.

You hid your excitement at the expensive environment, causally downing a champagne flute from a server, while you soaked up the extravagance of the house and the people.

It wasn’t long before your brother elbowed you in the side.

“Look, right over there,” he said, nodding his head to the left. “That’s Jordan.”

When you looked, he was already staring back at you. He leaned against the giant glass windows of the living room, a mystery drink in his hand. He was wearing a suit but several of the buttons of his button up were undone, exposing his chest. His hair was messy and his eyes were bloodshot. While he was a little sleazier than you expected, you shouldn’t have been surprised considering the insane stories your brother had told you about his addictions to sex and drugs.

He was surrounded by a group of men who you could only assume were the founding members of the company. They had noticed you from a mile away and you could faintly hear them talking about you and how badly they wanted to fuck you. One even said he’d fuck you even if you were his sister. You pretended not to notice as they shoved Jordan playfully, egging him on to approach you. For the Wolfie to handle you, as they put it.

He confidently half-smiled at you before shifting his shoulders, fixing his suit jacket. He sloppily ran his hand through his hair before he began walking toward you. He sauntered arrogantly, as if he already had you in the palm of his hand, and his eyes ran all over you though he tried his best to hide it.

“B/N! Good to see you,” Jordan exclaimed, stretching his hand out to give your brother a firm handshake.

“Hi, Jordan, great party,” your brother said with a smile.

“Yeah,” he dismisses your brother, his eyes quickly turning onto you. “Now don’t be rude and introduce me to this lovely lady you’ve got here,” he said, nodding toward you, a smile stretching across his lips.

“This is my sister, Y/N.”

“Aah,” he sighs, his face lighting up with excitement. “Sister,” he repeats, grinning widely.

“I just wanted to bring her along and show her what a Stratton party’s all about.”

“Nice to meet you, Jordan” you say, in a honey-sweet voice, showing your pearly whites. You can tell he’s already hypnotized as you look up at him through your fluttering eyelashes with doe eyes. You extend your hand toward him with the graceful flick of your wrist and he holds it so delicately.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, lifting your hand to his lips and leaving a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. Your smile widens accordingly as he refuses to let go of your soft skin.

“You know, you’ve got a really great place here. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house this big before,” you say, your eyes flicking up to the enormous glass chandelier above you that would certainly kill everyone in the room if it ever came crashing down. You ignored that thought and looked back into his star-struck eyes with an excited gaze.

“Oh, really?” He raised his eyebrows, enjoying himself too much.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding along.

You wouldn’t have called him unattractive but he wasn’t really your type. Either way you’d let him have one freaky night with your body in return for a large check deposited in your brother’s bank account. You hoped he was a good lay but your instincts were telling you otherwise.

He shooed your brother away to go talk to some of the other guys while he entertained you, talking himself up and offering you several compliments. It was when he stepped closer to you that his wife noticed the two of you from across the room. She was sipping on her champagne and gossiping in a huddle of powerful wives when you caught her eye, your hand holding her husband’s for way too long.

She was no fool, she saw the way he looked at you, like he wanted to devour you. She remembered that dangerous glint in his eyes from when she had first met him at a party like this one. And we all know how that went.

She was ready to cause a scene, to impulsively confront him in the large crowd and beat him senseless with a glass bottle for even looking at another woman. But something distracted her.

She had the perfect view of you from the side as you moved your free hand across your lower back. Then your hand moved lower, lower, lower, gliding across your ass, smoothing out the fabric of your tight dress. Naomi’s eyes were fixed. Finally your fingers pulled lightly on the hem of your dress, trying to bring it down as it had rode up a little too high, showing off most of your bare thighs.

That’s when she stopped herself and decided to give you a closer look. And that’s also when she realized she was no better than her husband.

You weren’t like any of the other women Jordan flirted with. No, you were flawless. Her eyes examined your figure and noticed how every curve of your body was carved so smoothly, so perfectly that she couldn’t look away. She could only imagine the way your skin would feel beneath her fingers; she assumed it was soft and pliable. She imagined how each arch of your body would fit perfectly into her hands like you were molded just for that reason. She wanted to admire you for the rest of the night. And it felt like you were enticing her, like you were asking for her touch in that low-cut dress. It wasn’t hiding much but still, Naomi wished she could see more.

She realized that she could barely blame her husband for his reaction. Your beauty was baffling and undeniable. What could she expect from Jordan, a man who couldn’t hide his desires nearly as well as she could hide hers.

For a moment your eyes strayed away from his and you glanced in Naomi’s direction. Your hand carelessly brushed your hair back and Naomi was slightly mesmerized. She sucked her lips into her mouth, imprinting the features of your face into her mind, forgetting which reality she was in.

Her stomach churned, her body telling her brain that her need for you was innate. The way your lips curved into a pure smile and your eyes were full of light made her want to ruin you. She wanted to whisk you off to some far away place to have you only for herself. She wanted to melt away that pretty facade and see what lurked beneath your shiny surface.

It was impossible for her to restrain her own thoughts as just a single look at you brought up such deep, impure desires. She was no better than a man but you made her like that.

Her chest burns as Jordan leans impossibly closer to you, whispering something in your ear. You giggle delightfully, comfortably holding on to his shoulder. He takes that as a sign to wrap his arm around your waist, practically engulfing you with his body while his lips stay uncomfortably close to your ear.

Naomi couldn’t believe the audacity of her husband to throw himself onto you in public. No, you deserved much better than to be smothered in sweat and cologne in front of all these important people. You deserved someone who would treat you right and then, behind closed doors, someone who would treat you so wrong. She knew her husband couldn’t do any of that for you. You didn’t deserve him.

By then she had placed her glass onto a table with a little too much force and allowed her feet to carry her across the room. She straightens up the neckline of her dress and clicks her heels into the ground with a purpose. You deserved her.

“Jordan!” a thick Brooklyn accent cuts through the air.

It surprises you slightly but it seems to shock Jordan into action as he abruptly pulls away from you. You’re left awkwardly standing alone as he steps back from you. Your hands clutch onto the sides of your thighs for comfort.

“Naomi! Baby!” he exclaims, outstretching his arms to the blonde thundering toward you. He puts on a large smile and leans back comfortably as if he wasn’t just all over you.

She doesn’t accept his embrace but swats his hands away from her. She moves to stand at his side.

“You gonna introduce me to your little friend here?” she says, motioning toward you with one of her hands. Her voice is laced with an attitude that scares you. You’re not quite sure if it's venomous but it’s definitely strong. She turns to face you and plants her hands firmly on her hips.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stutters, looking nervously between the two of you. “This is Y/N. And Y/N-”

“I’m Naomi, Jordan’s wife,” she cuts him off.

You had heard stories about Naomi, about how her beauty transcended time, but you sure as hell weren’t expecting the masterpiece that stood before you. You were rendered speechless for a moment, staring stupidly at her, your lips slightly parted.

Long blonde hair trailed down her shoulders, barely covering her thick gold hoop earrings. Her face looked like it was sculpted by the gods, with a jawline sharper than a knife and pink lips that pursed curiously at you. Her tight baby blue dress with a perfect cleavage cutout matched her blue eyes lined with thick eyeliner.

You couldn’t fathom how Jordan could cheat on her. She was probably the most perfect human you had seen in your entire life. And here you were trying to seduce her husband.

Her eyes aggressively ran up and down your body, soaking up every last drop of you. They held some dark emotion behind them. Using the context of the situation you assumed it was jealousy but she knew it was lust. It was the first time that night you felt so small and so flustered, your confident facade fading away.

You hoped it wasn’t showing on your face but from the way her lips quirked upward as she extended her hand, you could tell she was enjoying your agitated state.

“Hi, Naomi,” you said, speaking a little quieter than you had with Jordan before. You accepted her hand, expecting a tense shake, but her grip was even gentler than her husband’s. In fact, her hands were the softest you had ever held.

She copied Jordan’s movements, just more delicately. She brought your hand to her lips, leaning slightly forward to give the back of your hand a chaste kiss. Her eyes didn’t leave yours the entire time, making your stomach bubble in forbidden arousal. The gesture felt so intimate, as if no one else was watching.

If you weren’t in awe before, you were hypnotized now. Her beauty was ethereal and from the way she handled you, you began to question her intentions with you. Your perception of her as the jealous wife was slowly fading into the background.

If Jordan wasn’t your type, his wife surely was.

He looked between the two of you, completely unsure of what to say. It seemed he was in quite a pickle as it seemed his wife’s unpredictable behavior would soon get in the way of his endeavors with you.

“You know, you’re a cute one, doll,” she said, her tongue slightly poking through her teasing smile. Her strong accent only made every word out of her mouth even sexier, especially that pet name. Doll. You’d love to be her doll.

You felt your face heat up and your eyes ever so slightly widen. You attempted to ignore the arousal you felt beneath your dress as your nails dug anxiously into the fabric of your dress. You momentarily wondered whether you should thank her for the compliment before deciding against it. Each reaction out of you only pushed her to continue, to test your limits.

“I almost don’t blame my husband for looking at you the way he does,” she said, her eyes momentarily shifting to your cleavage before focusing on the small twitches of your face again.

You took a sharp breath and opened your mouth wider like you wanted to respond and apologize but Jordan beat you to it.

“Come on, baby. You know I only have eyes for you,” he whines and pouts like a child, leaning closer to her and wrapping an arm around her waist. She instantly pushes him off of her, disgusted by his touch, without sparing him a glance.

All you want to do is walk away and distance yourself from this married couple’s petty quarrel but your feet seem too heavy to move. You can’t help but love the way Naomi looks at you.

“But I can assure you he’s no fun,” she says, ignoring her husband’s pleading looks. “Very vanilla, you know? And he comes too fast.” She whispers that last part like he’s not even there although he can clearly hear her.

Both you and Jordan share the same state of shock. You can’t help but feel like you’re learning too much information about the couple you met a few minutes ago. But the way Naomi speaks to you it feels like you’ve known her much longer.

“Uh, I-I’m sorry-” you begin but are quickly interrupted.

“Myself on the other hand,” she says, trailing off for a few moments. She presses her lips together as if she’s looking through you, her thoughts taking her to far away places. The glint in her eye is mischievous and you want her to take you with her. “We can have lots of fun together.”

Your insides are screaming the moment the words leave her lips, her devilish smile only making the feeling worse. You can only dream about what she’s implying and your imagination runs wild. You’re already putty in her hands, you both can feel it.

“What’d you say, you wanna be friends?” she says, her tone seemingly innocent. But one look in those blue eyes would say otherwise.

“Friends?” you ask breathlessly. You let your head hang low and your bottom lip push out toward her, silently questioning the meaning of the word.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling brightly. But there’s a coy element about it. “You wanna be my friend?” Her eyes check you out once more just for emphasis.

There’s your answer.

The initial goal of seducing Jordan is long forgotten. Quick cash seems irrelevant compared to the duchess before you, especially now that she seems within reach. If you didn’t accept her offer you were sure you’d regret it.

You nod cautiously.

“Yeah, I’ll be your friend.”

She instantly beams at you with a conniving grin while internally congratulating herself for a mission accomplished. You feel your lips reciprocate in a stunned smile.

“Good. Let’s get you another drink, doll” she says, reaching out and grabbing your hand. She tugs you behind her as she heads toward the home bar. She gives you a raunchy look over her shoulder while you let her control your every movement. “Then I can show you around.”

Your smile grows while Jordan is left standing stupidly by himself. He curses under his breath, wondering how he fumbled so badly.

i'm screaming

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mermaidgirl30 · 5 months ago

Text

✨Coffee Shop Date✨

Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist Part 1 Part 2

A/N: They are so soft together, I can’t stand it 😭🥰 Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading and screaming about them with me 🩷 Enjoy, lovelies!

Chapter Summary: Joel takes you on a coffee date. The first official date after falling apart and finding each other again years later.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4.3k

Tags: Joel takes you on a cute coffee date, flirting, pining, so much flirting, slight angst, making up, talking about feelings and the past, falling in love, switching POVs

Dividers by @saradika-graphics and @firefly-graphics

Joel stands in the fluorescent lights of his bathroom mirror, smoothing the gel with his thick fingers as he nervously taps his foot against the simple white tile. He can’t stop thinking about the moment he laid eyes on you at the lake, the sun rays making you look like an absolute angel as your smile glowed brightly all around him.

His breath hitched and his heart pounded wildly against his broad chest as you slowly appeared in front of him, standing just inches from his fingertips, enough to reach out and brush against your delicate skin. He knew the moment he saw you again that it was fate, destiny. His lost, wilting rose petal was now blossoming and colorful, and that made him sigh and draw a lazy smile on the edges of his mouth. He found you again, and this time he wouldn’t let you go. Not ever.

He lets out a long sigh and heads for the door, grabbing the keys to his Chevy as he feels the nerves starting to shake through his entire body. He needs to calm down, but he can’t because he’s picking you up. The first official date again since the breakup that happened so long ago. He wouldn’t fuck it up this time, he just wouldn’t.

By the time he pulls up to the front of your quaint little house and scuffs his leather boots against the wooden porch, he’s nervous as hell. Sweat pools down underneath the collar of his green button-up flannel, and his mouth feels like dried up sandpaper.

Before he knocks on your white painted door, he glances to his left and stops dead in his tracks. He sees the bright red blooms of vivid roses glowing like glitter in the midafternoon Texas sun rays. He sees you in them, your perfect blossoms blooming like they’d never been wilted or withered before.

A warm smile beams on his curled up lips as he basks in the presence of your lush rose garden. He always knew you’d bloom again.

He softly knocks three times on your door, nervously shifting his weight on the balls of his feet until he sees the silhouette of your shadow behind the half drawn blinds. When you open the door his breath gets caught in his throat and his eyes grow wide, his thick fingers curling against the pockets of his denim jeans. He thinks you look like the prettiest flower he’s ever laid eyes on.

You stand there blushing, the crimson of your cheeks blending in with the glossy pink lip gloss that’s painted across your full lips. Your eyes are dazzling, glittering diamonds that nearly knock him down to his knees. Your violet colored summer dress grazes the tops of your thighs, and your tan skin glows as bright as your gorgeous, flashy smile.

He’s almost lost for words watching you smile bashfully up at him, just like you did the first time you met him at Lowe’s in the flower department. You always were a shy thing, but sweet as cherry pie. His favorite girl.

“Hi,” you say quietly, blinking up at him with the flutter of your long eyelashes as your painted nails dig into the fabric of your soft dress.

“Hi, sweetheart. You look very… pretty,” he smiles warmly down at you as he watches you giggle.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, beautiful,” he breathes.

You blush even more, twisting your hips slightly as the fabric of your skirt blows gently in the breeze. He could get used to seeing this, seeing you all dolled up and eagerly waiting to be picked up for a date with him. He missed this, missed you.

“You ready to go?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“Alright then. Coffee’s waitin’,” he laughs as he leads you to the passenger door, his hand resting on the small of your back as he opens the door and helps you inside, gently closing it as he makes his way to the driver's seat.

Once he’s buckled up and has the engine running he nods your way and puts the truck in drive, nervously running his thick fingers over the steering wheel before he drives off into the busy streets of Austin. He was more than ready for this date, ready to have you again.

It feels so weird to be in his truck again. In the passenger seat smelling his woodsy cologne, listening to his soft rock music playing over the speakers, watching him grip the leather steering wheel tightly with one hand as his other hovers outside the rolled down window. It feels… nice, like this is where you were meant to be. Back with Joel.

You watch his greying curls blow in the wind, fixate on his honey flecked eyes that flicker over to you every few seconds with a big crooked grin on his face. He looks so different yet somehow the same as you remember. He seems warmer, kinder, more receptive. And maybe time does change all things, but not the way you feel about him.

Before you know it, he’s pulling up to Houndstooth Coffee, your favorite coffee shop in Austin. When you make your way out of the truck and into the coffee shop, the atmosphere is buzzing with soft music playing over the speakers. Potted plants dangle in the large glass windows, sturdy stained tables sit lined against the open room, nature paintings hang neatly across every corner of the tan walls. You always liked the vibes in here. It’s quiet, relaxing, a great place to come and unwind. What made it even better was this was Joel’s favorite coffee shop, too.

“You wanna go grab a table, and I can go get us some coffee?” he asks as he looks over his shoulder at you.

“Sure, I can do that.”

“Perfect. And let me guess, still a caramel macchiato kinda girl? Extra sugar, heavy on the cream?” He winks at you, and you feel the heat warm your cheeks as you smile up at him.

“Still remember my favorite drink, huh?” you ask curiously as you cross your arms over your summer dress.

“‘Course I do. Don’t know anyone else that has as big of a sweet tooth as you do, darlin’. Kinda hard to forget.”

You push him playfully in the shoulder, and he barely moves an inch. “Yeah, says the guy that drinks his coffee black,” you tease. “You won’t even try mine.”

He chuckles and shakes his head at you, his slicked back curls bouncing against the gel. “It’s too sweet for me, and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Guess so,” you say with a small huff and the pop of your hip.

“Hey,” he says as he steps forward and cups your chin, slowly releasing his fingers as he speaks low. “I don’t need sweetener. I’ve got you here, and you’re sweeter than any of them. My little shot of espresso filled with sugar.”

Your jaw drops open, eyelashes batting up at him as your cheeks burn bright red. He’s going to paint you completely crimson if he’s not careful, but you’ll allow it. You had a lot of lost time to make up for, and he could flirt with you as much as he wanted to.

You nod your head to the short line in front of the cash register, and he smiles back at you. “Be back in a minute.”

You find a quiet place in the far corner, a little booth that has potted pink tulips and a smooth wooden table top. You watch him order the coffees, giving the worker his name and debit card before he patiently waits to the side for the coffees to be made.

He flicks his eyes over at you every few seconds, a small crooked smile spread wide across his mouth. You have to look away to stop the butterflies flitting through your stomach. You can’t believe you’re here again with Joel, your past flame, but this time feels different. A good different.

When they finally get finished making your drinks, Joel comes over to the booth and sits opposite you. He gives a small grunt when he sits and hands you your iced coffee. “Here ya go, darlin’. One caramel macchiato for the pretty lady.”

You giggle and reach for the clear cup full of sugary goodness. “Thanks, Joel,” you smile. When you grab the cup your fingers brush against his, and there’s a moment where sparks shoot through your fingertips, swirling feelings that were always buried deep inside your body.

He smiles nervously at you, running a hand straight back through his tousled curls. His honey eyes shine against the sunlight that’s beaming through the glass window, and you can’t stop the blushing that’s permanent on your cheeks when you’re around him.

Joel takes a sip of his coffee, keeping those soft eyes on you as you take a sip of yours. Your dress suddenly feels too tight, and the insides of your thighs feel sticky and warm from nerves. Maybe the iced coffee will help cool you off, but you doubt it will. Of course it won’t because Joel Miller is sitting across from you, looking extremely handsome in his flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He always was a flannel guy, and that’s why you own so many flannels. Because they remind you of him.

You casually sip from your coffee, curling your fingertips over your violet material, trying to calm yourself down from being in the presence of Joel. He still had you just as frazzled as when you locked eyes with him at the lake. You really were still crazy about him.

“It’s kinda crazy bein’ back here with you. It feels…”

“Right,” you finish for him.

He chuckles, nodding his head as he takes another sip from the black coffee. “Yeah, it does feel right.”

You tap your thumb nervously on the plastic coffee cup and take a breath before you dive into any personal matters. “How’s Sarah doing?”

“She’s good, really good. She just graduated this spring. Took a job at the heart hospital in Austin,” he says proudly, his brown eyes glistening with fondness.

“So she did go with nursing school after all. Joel, you must be so proud!” you squeak excitedly.

He smiles and nods his head, the look of admiration filling his face. “That I am. Can’t believe my baby girl is all grown up. Gonna miss her,” he sighs with sadness ghosting over his doe eyes.

“Hey, she’s always going to be your little girl. Don’t forget that. And she chose to stay in Austin? That’s so great, Joel. See, she didn’t leave after all. I knew she wouldn’t.”

“Oh, you knew she wouldn’t?” he asks with one eyebrow raised high, making the wrinkles across his forehead crease into fine lines.

“I had my suspicions she’d stay,” you wink. He shakes his head and stares at you for just a second, assessing your soft features before continuing.

“So, what about you? Are you still at the same company you were? That one corporate job you were at.”

You shake your head slowly, playing absentmindedly with the straw that you bend back and forth. “No. Actually, I work for the city now.”

“Oh?” he asks all intrigued and interested. “Doin’ what?”

“I’m working for an environmental engineering company that operates off the lakes in Texas. I’m helping them keep track of the bluegill and catfish populations. You know, helping both the water quality and fish populations,” you say fondly.

He stares at you wide-eyed, a big smile curling over the edges of his lips. “Well I’ll be damned. That’s what you always wanted to do. You did it, you actually did it.”

You laugh and push your hair behind your shoulder. “Yeah, finally. I love it so much, you have no idea how much happier I am there.”

He chuckles and rests a hand on the table, looking at you with big brown eyes adoringly. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. I always believed in you. I knew that one day you’d get it. They’re so lucky to have you.”

Your eyes fog over with held back tears while you grip tightly to your cold iced coffee. He told you he’s proud of you. Joel is proud of you. That sentence alone makes you weak in the knees. Joel was always so supportive, and that’s one thing you adored about him.

“You’re… proud of me?” you ask breathlessly.

“Mhm. So proud,” he purrs.

He holds your gaze while tension buzzes around the room. There’s no other customers at the moment, no clattering coffee makers echoing around the room, there’s just silence. There’s only you and Joel. Two bodies locked in a heated stare, chests rising and falling in sync, and nervous breaths sharing the same little area.

The intense moment breaks when you nervously push a lock of hair behind your ear and thank him for the kind words. “What about you? What have you been up to lately?” you ask, flitting your eyes back up to his.

“Oh, the usual. Me and Tommy started up a new contracting gig. Been busy runnin’ the company and sometimes workin’ on custom pieces.”

“You still like to build things?”

“‘Course, darlin’. Actually, I started buildin’ custom guitars a while ago. Been keepin’ me busy, but I really enjoy it,” he says with a deep chuckle reverberating off his chest.

“Guitars, huh? You always did love playing. Bet they’re beautiful,” you gush, leaning your elbow on the wooden table with your chin resting on your knuckles, looking dreamily at the man with honey glazed eyes.

“Maybe I could show you them sometime? Think you’ll love ‘em. Might have one with your name on it.” Hope fills his voice, and his eyes light up with sparks burning like amber coals.

Did he make you a custom guitar? No. He wouldn’t have. But maybe…. Oh, he did.

“I’d love to,” you smile, watching the light shine brightly through his beautiful brown eyes.

“Okay then, it’s a date,” he beams.

The tinge of crimson is back on your cheeks, and your face physically hurts from smiling so much in one sitting. This is where you were supposed to end up again. Back at your favorite coffee shop with your favorite person who introduced you to this place.

After a few seconds of silent stares and warm smiles, Joel’s face grows serious as his brows knit tightly together. “Listen, I need to apologize.”

“Joel,” you say harshly, trying to stop him from what he’s about to say.

“No, jus’ hear me out. I’m so fuckin’ sorry for how things ended. I didn’t mean… I wish I could’ve jus’…”

You hold out a hand to stop him. “No, Joel. Don’t put the blame on yourself. It’s not your fault. It’s…”

“Please,” he pleads, looking at you with glistening eyes that beg for you to listen. Just looking at them alone makes you want to crawl across the table and sink all your weight into him. “I need to get this out. Please, jus’ let me do this,” he begs.

“Okay,” you whisper, clutching the edge of your soft dress as you wait with bated breath.

“I made some very poor choices over the years. I was selfish, wreckless, so fuckin’ stupid. I didn’t mean to put all my problems on you. That wasn’t fair to you. And all those stupid fights that meant absolutely nothin’ were my fault.”

You catch his wrist and curl your fingers around his tanned skin, looking up at him with furrowed brows and parted lips. “Don’t you dare put all the blame on yourself. It was both of our faults. I was in a toxic job, and I brought that stress home to you so many times. I blew up in your face night after night from all that weight I was keeping on my shoulders. It was me who started half the fights. I shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve left that job long ago when it was affecting our relationship.”

He clenches his jaw and shakes his head at you. “No, sweetheart. Don’t even try to apologize. I was goin’ through so much shit with Tommy and Maria, and then there was Sarah I was tryin’ to keep a grasp on, and then all that shit with the company goin’ down and all the whiskey I was drinkin’. I was in the wrong mindset. I should’ve never hurt you the way I did.”

He looks like a wounded puppy dog that just lost his family the way he’s looking at you now. His teary doe eyes shooting holes through your beating heart, and you have to keep yourself glued to the seat you’re in. The temptation to crawl into his lap and give him a big hug right now is so very overwhelming.

He always loved when you got in his personal space and threw your arms around him when he was sad. It was his favorite way to be soothed. The way you’d run your fingers through his tousled curls and whisper sweet, calming words into the shell of his ear. He may be a strong man, but he was always so weak for you especially when you were his favorite person that could fix all the broken pieces and mend him back together.

You cling harder to his wrist, but he doesn’t even try to pull away. He just stares with watering eyes while his lips form a tight line. It breaks your heart seeing him like this. “I was the one that told you to leave, Joel…. That rainy night in February when I threw the keys in your face. I didn’t mean to. I was just so… mad. I shouldn’t have done that. I regret it. I was a mess, we were a mess. But I feel like I was the one that ruined it. And then… then…” You can’t even finish your sentence without tears falling down your cheek. You’re embarrassing yourself in front of Joel, in front of the entire coffee shop. You wish you weren’t so emotional about all of this.

“Oh, sweetheart. No. Don’t do that, it’s not your fault,” he coos softly, reaching a hand up to catch your falling tears while his calloused fingers linger on your delicate skin. His eyes are so soft like golden retriever eyes all wide and gentle. You want to just slip into them and sink forever.

“I should’ve never ran out that door, should’ve come right back. I wanted to. God, I wanted to. Maybe my life would’ve looked different if I did. But I was a coward. I jus’ couldn’t get myself to face you. So I decided to leave you alone. And then almost a couple years after that I met Tess.”

The name Tess makes you cower back in your seat, his large hand falling back to the table as it leaves your weepy face. Tess. The other woman he fell in love with.

“I’m not gonna tell you it was all rainbows and butterflies with her ‘cause it wasn’t. But there was a time I did love her, too.”

“Oh. Mhm,” you hum, looking down at your feet scuffing against the clean floor, trying your best not to cry again.

“Look, I’m not tellin’ you this to hurt you. I’m doin’ my best to explain jus’ what all went on. That day we moved to the neighborhood, I had no idea you were livin’ right across the street. If I knew, I don't think I would’ve… I wouldn’t have bought it,” he sighs as he takes a deep breath.

You can’t look at him, can’t make yourself even speak because you know you’ll be a puddle on the ground if you even try, so you just let him continue while you curl your toes underneath you. “When I saw you that first day when I was movin’ furniture out of the movin’ van, I was wrecked. I even dropped a vase when I saw you. Glass went all over the kitchen tile. Tess thought I had a stroke or somethin’, but it was just seein’ you again after all those years that killed me.”

You purse your lips and nod, remembering all too well how you dropped the glass of milk in your kitchen when you saw the two of them together. And it hurt, it still hurts to think about. You guess that wound never fully healed after all.

“I felt so awful and guilty about everything. And it was so fuckin’ hard to watch you day after day. Walking to your mailbox, leaving your house, walking in your kitchen at dinner time when your window was wide open. I jus’… there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t want to walk over and sweep you up in my arms. God, I really wanted to every single day. But then there was Tess. And I made a promise to her that I swore I’d keep.”

You feel a tear fall like rain down your cheek when you hear those words, but Joel’s right there to pick up the pieces. He reaches his arm out and places his large palm over your hand, making you look up from under your soaked lashes.

“Do you remember that day I helped you up off the ground in front of your mailbox?”

“Yeah, how could I forget,” you whisper with a quiet sniffle.

“After you walked back inside, I somehow ended up on your front porch. I stood there for over ten minutes jus’ waitin’ to knock. I wanted to. I knew you were cryin’, I knew I was the reason why. I jus’ wanted to make the pain go away, but I realized I couldn’t ‘cause I made a promise to Tess. So even though that killed me, I walked away. I didn’t knock. I couldn’t. Because if I did, I never would’ve been able to let you go…”

Your eyes prick with fresh tears, and you tremble out some scattered words. “No, I understand. You’re a man of your word. You loved Tess. I couldn’t fault you for that. And I was so selfish to want you all to myself again, but I realized that couldn’t happen because she was yours,” you choke out, feeling the weight of the world press deep into your chest.

“I loved her, but I also realized I never stopped loving you, too. I should’ve realized sooner that it was never supposed to be her, it was supposed to be you.”

Your mouth drops open and your heart thunders in your chest. “What did you just say?” you gasp.

“It was always you, sweetheart. It jus’ took some time and healing to realize you were it for me. There was no one else. There still isn’t anyone else. It’s jus’ you…”

“I… Joel…” you mutter mindlessly.

Before you know what’s happening, Joel slides out of the booth and pulls you to a standing position. His deep chocolate eyes gaze longingly into your eyes, and the words are off his tongue before you can digest them. “I still love you.”

He pulls you into his broad chest, and his calloused hands connect with the sides of your face. His lips meet yours and suddenly the world fades away in the background. There’s no more outside voices, no more sideways glances, no more anything. There’s just Joel’s lips on yours, burning through you like wildfire.

You part your lips, allowing him to slot his tongue in, tasting that strong black coffee taste that you’ve always loved. You loved it because it was Joel’s signature taste, his scent, his essence. And you realize now you love him. God, you never stopped loving him. He’s the one, he’s always been the one.

He breaks away from the kiss, but you stay clinging to his flannel while his calloused thumbs trace light circles over your cheekbones. “God, I missed you,” he breathes, resting his forehead on yours while his soft brown eyes melt into yours.

“I missed you too, Joel. So much,” you murmur against the greying scruff of his jaw. “Stay with me…” you whisper against his mouth.

He hooks a strand of hair behind your ear and traces his thumb gently over the shell of your ear. “I’m not goin’ anywhere this time, sweetheart. This time I’m gonna be the man you’ve always deserved. We’re gonna take it slow and we’re gonna do it right. I’m never hurting you again, do you understand?” he asks with serious brown eyes and knit together eyebrows.

“I understand, Joel. This time we’ll make it work. We have to, I have to. I don’t ever want to lose you again,” you whine as you fall into his chest, his large arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

“And you won’t lose me. Not this time. Not ever. You’re mine, baby girl.”

You smile into his chest and breathe in his mahogany cologne you’re so familiar with. “Joel?” you ask, your voice getting cut off from your face being buried in Joel’s flannel.

He cups your chin and pulls your face up to his slowly. “Hmm? What is it, pretty girl?”

“You’re still my infinity, aren’t you?”

He chuckles softly and nods his head. “Sure am, sweetheart. Forever and ever…”

You fall back together, lips melding into one, bodies wrapped around each other. It took falling apart and healing to make it back to him, to the love of your life. You may not know what’ll happen tomorrow, but at least you know Joel will still be there holding your hand through it all.

This was exactly where you were meant to end up. You and Joel were for forever. Like he said, infinite.

“I love you, Joel Miller. My infinite…”

Tagging those who read the other parts 🩷 @laurrrra @amyispxnk @lotusbxtch @honey-dip-24 @sawymredfox

@orcasoul @laramc-02 @chewie-bars @axshadows @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@littlevenicebitch69 @persephone-girl @syd-djarin @tammythr @stylesispunk

@morallyinept @thundermartini @solllaris @jessthebaker @vie-is-punk

@hoeruiner @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @survivingandenduring

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #no outbreak au #joel miller fluff #joel fluff #lots of fluff #joel x female reader #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction

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theonlyhonoredone · 4 months ago

Text

Love You Like No Tomorrow

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: The story of how you and Satoru got married

Masterlist

It was the middle of summer when Satoru raised the question. A bored evening, the two of you were sitting on the balcony sharing some strawberry cake. He had been staring at you for a while, obviously deep in thought. You let him play with whatever was in his mind until you reached the last bite of dessert, finally deciding to ask him what he was thinking about. He’d looked at you very seriously for a long time before finally answering.

“I want to marry you,” he stated.

You nearly choked, your eyes growing wide in surprise, “Excuse me?”

“I want to marry you,” he repeated, “Not some big wedding thing, just you and I. I want you to be my wife.”

“I-” you paused because while the idea wasn’t unwelcome he had totally blindsided you, “Why are you bringing this up now? Did something happen?”

He had a bad habit of burying his problems. Often refusing to speak about something until he was on the verge of breaking.

“Nah, I was just staring at you and you’ve got these crumbs on the side of your mouth,” he reached over to wipe them with his thumb, “And I was thinking about how cute you look like that and then I thought, who thinks someone looks cute with a bunch of crumbs on their face? Must be because I’m in love with you, and I already knew that but I was just thinking if I already wanna be with you forever and you obviously feel the same way why don’t we just get married already?” He licked his thumb and leaned back, propping his hands behind his head. “I don’t wanna wait anymore, I wanna do it right now.”

You couldn’t help laughing, “Who says I feel the same way?”

He turned to you with a big smile, “Don’t play coy, I’ve got you whipped.”

“I believe it’s the other way around, actually.”

“It goes both ways, how about that?”

You nodded in agreement, “Okay, fine, we’re both whipped and we wanna be together forever.”

Your eyes danced over the Tokyo skyline as you let his proposition sink in. It was surprising, Satoru loved to be the center of attention so you couldn’t imagine he’d pass up the chance to have some big flashy wedding. That wasn’t something you’d want, it always seemed more romantic to you to confess your deepest feelings in private. When you declared your undying love for Satoru you wanted him to be the only one to hear it. Really thinking about it made you realize how much you hated the idea of some big ceremony. Months or even years of planning, all the anxiety and anticipation of making everything perfect. Then having to share all your deepest feelings in front of a big crowd. Plus with Satoru’s status in the Jujustu world it’d inevitably become some sort of political ordeal.

“You’re okay with us just running off to do this? No party, no big celebration, nothing?” You questioned him to make sure he was really sure about it before you agreed.

He grabbed his chin, rubbing it as the scenario passed through his mind. “Yeah, I mean a party would be fun, but I don’t wanna wait all that time. We can plan some party later, oh and a honeymoon, we gotta have one of those,” he nodded as he imagined all the locations you could go, “But the actual marriage part, I don’t need that to be for anyone but us. If you want that stuff though, we can wait.”

“I don’t want it, actually I kind of hate the idea of it all,” you confessed. “It seems stressful, I’d rather it just be us.”

His eyes widened excitedly and he leaned forwards in his chair, just barely sitting on it’s edge. “Let’s go do it now then! We can go to one of those drive-thru places! It’ll be fun, and then we can go on a mini honeymoon tomorrow!”

You laughed at his excitement, “Well I at least want a white dress Toru, and I want you to wear a suit. Why don’t we plan it for this weekend or something?”

“Nah, I wanna do it tonight! If you want to get dressed up we can,” he dug into his wallet and passed you a card, “We’ll go get you a dress and me a suit and then we can head over! We can go right at sunset!”

The excitement in his big blue eyes was too overwhelming for you to deny him so you nodded and let him hoist you out of your chair. You rushed over to the shopping district you frequented and gave yourselves both an hour to get ready. You found the perfect little white dress, it hugged you just right and you found yourself getting emotional in the fitting room. Off the shoulder with long sleeves, hitting you just above the knee, pretty feathers wrapping around the collar and top of the sleeves. It was simple elegance, paired with a pair of sweet kitten heels it really made you feel like a bride. You swiped the dress and changed into it right away, having to run back to the car to meet Satoru in time. He had found himself a deep blue suit and paired it with a baby blue button up and some black formal shoes. He looked incredibly handsome, his eyes no longer hidden by the sunglasses he’d worn on the way there.

“You’re beautiful,” he wrapped his arms around you and spun you around with a big smile.

“So are you,” you cooed back at him, stealing a quick kiss. “Are we really gonna do this?”

He nodded, “Obviously, come on I even got you this,” he presented you with a jewelry box which made you gasp.

“How did you have the time…” you trailed off as he opened the box, revealing it to be totally empty inside. “That’s mean Toru!”

He laughed and tossed the box into the back seat, “I didn’t actually have time, that’s just an old box. I got you this though,” he pulled a candy ring from his pocket, making you burst into a fit of laughter, “It’ll have to do for now alright?”

You nodded and presented your hand to him, “Come on, you’re supposed to put it on me.”

“Not yet, you have to wait until we actually get married,” he winked and opened the car door for you, “Come on pretty.”

You grinned as you buckled yourself in, the candy ring seated in your lap as Satoru sped through the city. You were both laughing the whole time, grinning like idiots as you pulled into the drive-thru. Satoru explained excitedly that you wanted to get married right now because you were madly in love. You two were told to sign some papers and they offered you a veil for the photos. A man dressed as a priest led you through a quick ceremony and simple vows. Satoru slid his candy ring onto your finger and dipped you back as dramatically as he could for your first kiss. A young giggling girl took a million pictures and babbled about how cute she thought you were. In the end you left with a bundle of printed out pictures of the two of you and a real marriage license.

“I can’t believe it,” you gripped the license as Satoru drove you back towards your home, “This is like, for real Satoru. We actually are married.”

He took your hand and kissed the candy ring on your finger, “It’s not real until we consummate it.”

Laughter bubbled up from your chest once again, “Shut up perv.”

“Hey, that’s no way to speak to your husband,” he teased.

“Well you shouldn’t be acting like a perv Toru, you’re a married man you know?”

He was smiling ear to ear, “That’s even more reason for me to be a perv don’t you think? Now that I’ve got the prettiest wife in the whole world, I mean how can I be expected to keep my hands off my pretty, perfect wife?”

“I don’t know, I can’t keep mine of my handsome, strong husband,” you took one of his hands in yours. “So I guess you’ve got a point there.”

When you got home Satoru carried you to your room and tossed you onto the bed. You spent your night rolling around in the sheets, giving in every single time Satoru asked for just one more. How could you even deny such a doting husband after all? You worked yourselves until you were exhausted, falling asleep tangled up together with your bedroom looking like it’d been hit by a hurricane. Even when the morning came you didn’t care to clean up, instead opting to spend your makeshift honeymoon tucked into your big bed together sucking on your candy ring.

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coconut-dreamz · 10 months ago

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king of my heart

"the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury" || tom blyth x singer!reader

a/n: inspired by ts once again !!!

i'm perfectly fine, i live on my own i made up my mind, i'm better off bein' alone

you had spent the last few years being single and throwing yourself into your work. that was evident through the sheer amount of music you'd made in the last five years and the world tours you'd gone on.

after your messy break up a few years ago, you'd sworn off love and relationships lately. though, they did make great inspiration for music. but throwing yourself into your work for the past three years had consequences. you were feeling burnt out after your latest world tour and your manager had strongly urged you to take a break for awhile. not to mention you were in a rut. you hadn't wrote a single song in months. nothing inspired you, all of the songs you tried to write sounded wrong.

we met a few weeks ago now you try on callin' me, baby, like tryin' on clothes

rachel was a good friend of yours, you had met on at a red carpet once and became fast friends. she had recently finished up filming for a project and was in new york. she wanted to meet up with you and introduce you to her cast mates.

that's when you met tom. there was an instant attraction between you two, there was no doubt about it. everyone in the room could feel it. tom, luckily, also lived in new york. but he lived in brooklyn while you lived in manhattan. but he was constantly calling you, asking you to meet up or come over and hang out. nearly every day he was free he'd call you up.

salute to me, i'm your american queen and you move to me like i'm a motown beat and we rule the kingdom inside my room

you two were just hanging out in your bedroom, listening to your vinyl records. stand by me started playing, softly filling the room. "dance with me," tom stands, offering his hand to you. you just smile and agree, standing up. his arm snakes around your waist as your hand makes its way to his shoulder. you lay your head on his chest as you two sway to the music.

"this is nice," you whisper out as the song ends. "i like spending time with you. hours feel like minutes here," he responds as he spins you around, causing you to erupt in giggles at his antics. you continue to dance around the room until the sun sets behind you, lost in your own world with tom. when you were with him, everything else melted into the background. it was like the only thing in focus was tom.

'cause all the boys and their expensive cars with their range rovers and their jaguars never took me quite where you do

you had reluctantly agreed to a date with someone one of your model friends had set you up with. he picked you up from your apartment in his flashy car, drawing attention to you two from everyone around you. you weren't quite used to all this attention, you had been a lot more private in recent years.

the date was absolutely terrible. he took you to some upscale restaurant that served expensive dishes that were only 1-2 bites each. as he drove you back to your place, all you could think of was how you wish you'd just stayed home and gotten take out with tom. you'd be a lot less hungry and a lot more happy if you'd done so.

after being dropped off, you texted gigi that you're never letting her set you up again. after texting her, you called tom. he picked up almost immediately, as if he was waiting for you. "that was the worst date ever!" you shout, once the call connects. all you hear is his melodic laugh in response. "i wish i would've just stayed home and gotten take out. i'm starving. the restaurant we went to didn't fill me at all!”

"how about i come over and pick up something up on the way there? we can watch a movie or two and you can tell me more about how much of a disaster it was." you smile at his suggestion. "that sounds great, i'll see you soon?" you answer, happily. "see you soon, love." he hangs up. you smile, couldn't wait.

and all at once, you are the one i have been waiting for king of my heart, body and soul

being with tom felt easy. you didn't realize it at first, but then all of a sudden he was embedded in every part of your life. being with him was as easy as breathing. it came naturally to the two of you. he had somehow snuck in and captured your heart.

"i love you," you whisper out as the two of you stare up at the stars. you'd decided to go on a camping trip upstate. you were laying on a blanket, cuddling. it just felt right with him. nothing was ever forced. it was simple.

tom sits up abruptly at your words, looking into your eyes "do you mean it?" he asks, unsure. "you're the king of my heart, body and soul." you state, staring back at him. a huge grin making its way onto his face. "i love you, i have for awhile. i was just too scared to say it first. i wasn't sure if you felt the same." he admits, a little shy.

"you are my everything. there's nothing i wouldn't do for you." you admit to him, leaning in and placing a delicate kiss on his lips. you feel him smile into the kiss as he deepens it, pushing you to lay on the blanket and crawling on top of you.

late in the night, the city's asleep your love is a secret i'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep

"shhh, don't be so loud! it's like 3am." you whisper shout at tom as you two walk through london. it was a stunning city, even more so with him by your side. "i love this woman!!!! i'm so glad she's mine!!!" he shouts into the open air, spinning in circles and laughing. his silliness causes you to laugh at him, playfully slapping him on the chest, trying to get him to shut up.

tomorrow was the world premiere of the ballad of songbirds and snakes. you were so excited for him and the rest of the cast, but there was a selfish part of you that wanted to keep him to yourself. you didn't want him to become the internet's boyfriend or the 'white boy of the month'. you wanted to keep your love a secret from the world.

you wanted to shield the budding love from the cruelty of not only the world, but the tabloids. the press had ruined your previous relationships, breaking the trust you'd previously shared because of false rumors and speculations. you know tom wasn't like that, but you didn't want to be proved wrong. you just wanted to hold onto this secret for a little longer.

change my priorities the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury

some people may have labeled you as materialistic in the past, your countless new shoes and outfits adding fuel to the fire. but, as of late, your priorities had changed. you no longer cared for material goods, the only thing you desired was tom. everything about tom, you wanted. his hugs, his kisses, and especially his love for you. his love would be worth more than anything money could buy you.

is this the end of all the endings? my broken bones are mending with all these nights we're spending

shortly after meeting tom, you were reinvigorated. he was your muse. he mended your heart and gave you inspiration to write once again. no longer were you writing sad songs about ended relationships, but songs confessing your love to him. by the time you had known him for six months, you'd already written enough songs for two 20 song albums and a few extra for deluxe editions.

the more time you spent with him, the more songs you were inspired to write because of him. your agent had wanted to kiss him on the mouth personally for the amount of songs he had inspired you to write after over a year of nothing. your fans would be thrilled to hear you'd be releasing new music after three years of nothing.

"what are you doing there, darling?" tom walks into your office as you play around on the piano and write down the notes you were playing. "just composing a new song. i was inspired during our date last night. i just finished writing the lyrics and now i'm trying to come up with the melody." you answer him, not looking up from the notebook. his eyes widen at your words. "you wrote the lyrics already?" he asks surprised.

you look up from you notebook at this "of course i did, you're my muse. i've completed two albums dedicated to you now." you answer him and continue playing, trying to find the right notes. "you what?" he asks, unaware of his influence on your creativity. you stop playing at this and stand up to face him. "from the moment i have met you, i have written and composed exactly 47 and a half songs. you are my muse, tom blyth. you occupy my mind at all times. i love you" you confess to him with a grin. "my god, i love you." he captures your lips in a searing kiss. he truly was the king of your heart.

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you

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cosmicstarlatte · 1 year ago

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Your blog and headcanons are living in my brain since i got here, and i just want to say, thank you, i love your work 💕 also, i saw this in other posts (i was in the monster fucker side and end up in the lover side, but im not complaining) about demon relantionship dynamics and i have a question, who of the demons do you think would use an accesory made of something of MC?

TW: blood and hair being used as accesory, demon dynamic being a little disturbing.

Like imagine if with magic MC (safelly) could make jewells with their blood, or in a more victorian way, maybe a bracelet with a lock of their hair. In my mind there would be Satan and Barbatos who have the jewellry always on them but are discret, and then there is Mammon and Asmo who show whatever MC gave them with pride.

Thank you so much anon!!!♡ It's messages like these that keep me motivated, I'm honored!!! 🥰 I hope you don't mind I changed it to just items with blood 😎 I was gonna keep this short originally but ended up getting carried away. This was seriously SO fun to write! I rly think they all would!

Giving Them An Item With Your Blood (Obey Me!)

Tags: Blood, Fluff, Demon Bros, Barb, Dia, GN!Reader, HCs

Lucifer: "Hm? It's from ___."

If someone happens to catch a rare glance at it & are curious enough to ask, he has no problem proudly answering he got the bloody vial necklace from you. He's not shy or ashamed about it, but prefers to keep it between you & him. It usually stays well hidden behind his high collared shirts. Sometimes when he's at home in his office & shirt unbuttoned, he will fidget around with it while doing paperwork. He loves it but won't ever tell you or anyone else how very attached to it he is. ♡

Mammon: "This one!? Not up for betting, scram!"

When isn't Mammon flashy??? The day you gave him the ring filled with some of your blood was basically the day you got married (in his mind) & he went around showing everyone. Of course some of his buddies asked if he'd bet it for a chance at clearing his debt but even that's one bet Mammon refused. He has a ritual of kissing his ring everyday, he thinks of it as his good luck charm even when he's actually having a bad day. He makes you kiss it to add extra luck (love) to it too. ♡

Levi: "I will guard this with my life."

Let's be honest, he doesn't care what it is & would wear/take whatever you give him. Your hairbrush? He will cuddle it.

When you presented him a blood vial bracelet, he got all teary eyed & nearly fainted from excitement. It easily became his most prized possession, he takes such good care of it. He wears it openly & you can see him fidget around with it when he gets anxious. Sometimes he will lightly rub or hold it against his cheek, calming him down when he's overwhelmed. ♡

Satan: "That's what you get for touching things that aren't yours."

His smile was radiant, blinding. Satan's gift is unique just like him & he appreciates the thoughtfulness of a handmade blood infused bookmark. It's one he takes care of & makes sure it doesn't get lost in the mess of his room. He did curse it (you'll get a hand burn) so no one else can touch it except you & him. From time to time he gets distracted by it when reading. He wants to ask if you'll attach a blood charm to the end of it too. ♡

Asmo: "My outfit isn't complete until I put this on!"

He squealed, cried, & wouldn't let you go for the entire day after gifting him the little box of jewelry. He went on to rub it in everyone's faces & showed it off on all his socials. The main gift was a gorgeous charm, the blood swirled, glittering inside. You made sure he could pop the charm into the ring, necklace, or bracelet you also gave him in the box. He was impressed you went to such lengths just so he could always choose how to wear it each day. Even if it was a single piece though, he would've worn it no matter what, even if it "clashed" with his outfit. ♡

Beel & Belphie: "We promise to never take it off." "You promise too ___!"

The twins immediately pulled you into bed & cuddled with you, happily accepting their gifts. You gave each a pendant, a sun for Beel & a moon for Belphie, the middle of each pendant holding your precious red liquid. You even got a star pendant for yourself to match with them although your pendant remained empty; something they noticed quickly. They happily offered up their own blood; they never minded sharing as long as it's with you. ♡♡

Barbatos: "I'm...at a loss for words, thank you."

He kissed your cheek before turning his attention to the golden pocket watch you gave him. He handled it delicately, admiring the ancient designs etched onto it before opening it. It was a gorgeous watch, one of the inner side walls swirled beautifully with your blood. He enjoyed the hidden surprise inside for his eyes only. Truly, he was moved by your gift & made a mental note to give you something in return. ♡

Diavolo: "An absolute treasure this is."

He gave you a tight hug, nearly cutting your air supply off. He's received many gifts throughout the years but the custom pen you gave him was now at the top of the list. Only a see-through compartment of the pen held your blood, floating around. The actual ink inside the pen was regular but refillable for permanent use. He found himself smiling a little more even when filling out the piles of paperwork on his desk. It also finally fixed his habit of losing pens, making sure he always has it on him for quick signing (& Barbatos thanks you for it). ♡

Also I like to think that if they really miss you, they'll hold their object close to their nose to get a whiff of your scent ♡ alakskfgllsskfkg

⬦You might also like: Coffee Shop︱Two A.M.︱Pick-Me-Up

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me fic #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹#✩ — the star: anon!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 days ago

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Home Away From Home 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, jealousy, mentions of loss, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki, Peter Parker (tall!reader)

Summary: You’ve been friends with the Odinsons since childhood. After years of separation, you reunite on Midgard after the destruction of Asgard, but find yourself caught between your old and new lives.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“That was so cool when you threw me,” Peter nearly hops to keep up with you. He might be small but he is fast. He is big in spirit. “And then I hit that guy with the elbow drop. Just like Macho Man.”

“Macho Man?” You repeat curiously. “He is a friend of yours?”

“Ha, no,” he shakes his head. “He was a wrestler. Real famous.”

“A wrestler? I wrestle too! In Asgard, we always do so after a big feast.” You explain.

“Really? Like you have a ring?” He asks.

“Ring?”

“Yeah, like where would you wrestle?”

“On the floor...” you squint at him. His hair is still tussled and he still wears his funny red suit.

“Mm,” he hums and nods. “You wrestled Thor?"

“Oh, many times but he is a difficult adversary.”

“What about Loki?” He wonders.

“Once or twice, but only when he imbibed overly much. He thinks it’s unseemly,” you say. “Though I think it is because he doesn’t like to lose.”

“Probably,” Peter snorts. “Would you wrestle me?”

It’s your turn to laugh, “that’s very amusing to think of but I think we are outmatched.”

“I can hold my own. You’ve seen me fight,” he argues.

“Yes, I have, which is why I am deferring,” you say. “I’m afraid I’m known for my brute strength rather than my speed. I couldn’t keep up with you, dor-dígull.”

“Hm, okay, well, I guess you’ve never seen Midgardian wrestling, have you?” He asks.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Ooh, I can show you my favourite matches,” he chimes excitedly. “I bet they're way more flashy than your Asgardian ones.”

“Show me?”

“Yeah, I have the videos. You know, we have wrestling shows,” he explains.

“Ah, yes, the living pictures. I want to see it.” You agree.

“Awesome. How about tonight? I’ll get us snacks.” He offers.

You stop and face him. The rest of the team goes about their business without notice. You’re happy that they don’t seem to mind you. Especially since Thor couldn’t be there. Peter helped you feel a little less out of place.

“Tonight,” you agree with a coy look.

You don’t know much about Midgardians but you’ve been learning and you think you know what he’s asking. You’re not appalled at the idea. You’re even a bit flattered. He might not be built like an Asgardian but he is formidable nonetheless.

“I’ll text you,” he grins.

“And I will try to respond to your text,” you affirm.

“Awesome!” He exclaims then calms himself, smoothing his hair. “You know, it’ll, uh, be fun.”

“I’m certain it will,” you nod. “I should go report back to my people.”

“Tell Thor I said hi? Oh, and Loki too,” he says.

“Certainly,” you agree. You leave him as he runs after the blond-haired Captain and the man with the dark mop on his head and the black metal arm.

You can’t deny your own excitement. Since Asgard turned to cinder and you became a refugee, since even before that, you’ve not had much opportunity to indulge in anything careless. You could do with a release.

You weave your way through the tower. It hasn’t lost its shine. Everything is sleek and refined in that Midgardian fashion. And the people in their straight-cut clothing and tall shoes are amusing. You might go and find some of those for yourself.

As you come into the lobby, a green flicker limns the edge of your vision.

You sigh, “Loki, where’ve you been?” You ask.

“I assure you I've been doing more important things than playing games with Midgardian pretenders,” Loki drones.

“We did good, Loki. We helped people in a big sandy place called Ar-i-zon-a,” you pronounce it deliberately. “You needn’t be bitter.”

“I’m not bitter. You always were so presumptuous. You act as if you know me to the bone.”

“I admit, Loki, I don’t know you as well as I once did,” you shrug as you push through the glass doors. “I don’t think anyone does, but if you gave anyone a chance...” You suggest. “Have you talked to any of the people? The women here are rather attractive.”

“Women?” He spits. “I will not be languishing in the arms of a mortal.”

“Or the men? It might do you well. To release the levee,” you nudge him with your elbow.

“I don’t need—quiet. You shouldn’t speak of such things to a prince,” he hisses.

“No, not anymore?” You wonder. “As right as ever, my prince, I do not know you as I once did. You should find one of those things... a hobby?”

“I read,” he sniffs. “But their literature is so simplistic.”

“Mm, they have sport. Oh, the little spider told me they have wrestling. They have shows you could watch. Or you could join in?”

“These flimsy men would break,” he insists.

“There are others here. In New Asgard. You could ask them.”

“I don’t want to wrestle. It is a drunkard’s sport.”

“Hm, yes, you were never much on it. Well, they have living pictures,” you point to one of the big signs on the side of the building. “You like theatre.”

He huffs again. His defiance is irritating. As if anything you say will be wrong. He does that often to his brother. Well, you are not Thor and you will not let him spoil your day.

“I will let you figure it out upon your own, then, for surely I know not of what I speak,” you say. “I hope that do find something to keep busy tonight.”

“Tonight? You speak as if you are going somewhere? I thought we could find some activity. You seem more acquainted with this cursed place than I.” He says.

“I am occupied. If you do not like the living pictures, they have stages, you could get a ticket,” you suggest. “Or perhaps you could ask your brother.”

“I’d rather a crow pluck my eyes out.” He sneers.

I’d rather one did too, you think to yourself. You stop and face him. You show your hands helplessly.

“Tomorrow, prince. When I can avail myself to you, we will go around the city. There is a market I wish to peruse.”

He stares at you dully, “fine. I suppose I can wait.”

“You never struggled to amuse yourself,” you retort. “I’ve got to get going.”

“You do? Where?” He asks.

“I am no longer a ward of the crown,” you say. “I needn’t say.”

“But I am asking,” he growls.

You laugh, “you have not changed so much as you think.”

You grin and spin away, strutting down the sidewalk. His sigh evaporates into another green hue at your back. You’ll deal with him tomorrow, once you’ve dislodged the thorn he’s poked into your side.

#loki #peter parker #dark loki #dark peter parker #dark!loki #dark!peter parker #loki x reader #peter parker x reader #series #drabble #home away from home #mcu #marvel #thor #avengers #spider-man

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maxwell-grant · 12 days ago

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The Penguin Episode 5: "Homecoming" Breakdown

BREANNAH: I think, if Oz had it his way, I think Victor would carry on Oz's legacy. AMY: Do you think that Victor can ever see Oz as his Rex Calabrese? BREANNAH (sighs): I think that is what Oz wants. I think if Oz had it his way, by the end of this series, Victor would want to plan Oz's funeral and have a parade through the streets and be the, um AMY: The biggest parade ever? BREANNAH: The biggest parade ever. - The Penguin Podcast Episode 5

(Art by @butcherbilly)

(Episode 1) (Episode 2) (Episode 3) (Episode 4)

I wanna know who decided to bang up the Penguimobile so meticulously to give it the angriest, most anthropomorpic scarred face a Maserati can possibly have, on the second before it's given a Viking funeral. That thing looks like a wounded animal and I refuse to accept this was accidental.

I knew we were in for something special when it opened with "Did I ever tell of Rex Calabrese" and the Penguinmobile being burned, and then it turned out to actually be a funeral for the Penguinmobile and the history of why Oz wanted a Penguinmobile so badly, why was it so deeply important for him as a kid to dream that one day he'd get a big flashy stupid car to roll down the block with, and what burning the Penguinmobile means to him now.

"It wasn't just a car, it was a chariot. Made a kid with a bum leg feel like even he could be king." "End of an era."

"Only the good die young." Sure hope that bodes nothing terrible for Victor's future.

It is pretty funny that Oz has Tiktok installed on his phone and that this one scene confirms it exists in this universe, the jokes just kinda write themselves there.

Vic sure seems like he's rapidly getting a taste for the action, the decision he's made is bringing a fight out of him no one but Oz had ever really imagined was there. Not only is he getting comfortable with doing violence on Oz's behalf and making his own decisions, but he's gotten to a point where he's starting to actually look up to Oz, seeing him the way Oz wants to be seen.

Oh hey it's the police chief from The Batman, glad that he shows up here, especially in a context where he gets to eat shit.

I wish Eve Carlo showed up more, so far she hasn't really had too much to do although this episode definitely is the most we've seen. Someone who Oz doesn't really have much leverage with because she sees many of the cracks in his image and who's had a target on her back because of him the moment we were introduced to her, her protectiveness over the girls, the stuff mentioned in the commentary, all of that is interesting and I expect we're gonna get more elaboration regarding her down the line - it's already a big question mark whether she'll even survive the show.

"That's what I do, I fix things. That's all I ever fucking do."

I like these moments of pathetic defiance and pained regretful self-serving vulnerability that we get from Johnny Viti in this episode, with Sofia eating the scenery with the power she now holds over him even as what he reveals still very much hurts her.

The painful vulnerability of Francis nearly burning the house down while softly clutching a catcher's mitt, steeling up and joking with Victor about her bruises, and the sheer happiness and pride overflowing from her as she practically dances to the news that her son gassed an entire family to death, God what a character. She waited her whole life for these scumbags to die and die by her son's hand, it's gonna be a real gutpunch when or if she finds out the truth.

Oz doing everything he does so he can come home one day and have his mom tell him she's proud of him, and at the happiest and most prideful we've ever seen (and probably will ever see) Francis, he wasn't there to see it, and it was only because Victor spun a lie for him.

I wanna take a little aside just to highlight some of Shohreh Aghdashloo's comments regarding Nadia Maroni and her final moments, and this is probably the character I'm going to most miss because I was very interested in everything that she brought to the table, the history and the perspective that this character brings to Gotham, and what went into her creation and death.

She's coming from a huge family. She left the revolution behind. She has traveled the seven seas, she has learned a lot, and therefore she herself has been revolutionized. She's where she cannot tell the difference between right and wrong. All she's trying to do is to save her family, her husband, her son, and what's important to them. There is no right and wrong there. Which reminds me of a poem by the Persian poet Rumi, which says, "Beyond the notion of right and wrong, there is a field. Would you like to meet me there?". That's where she is standing.

Her country was invaded. Foreign occupation. Now she needs to make another country her country, and then save herself and her family. And she's willing to do everything to the point that she would even sacrifice herself for this family.

I guess when you go through a lot and do not have time to think about your doings, your past, your present, what's going to happen in the future, you're just involved with something like a snowball that comes out downhil. You really don't think properly. All you do is action, action, and what's right to do right now.

If she had been thinking thoroughly, she would have not done that - The Penguin Podcast Episode 5

‘Why does Nadia go there? She can send people to bring her son back,’” Aghdashloo says of Nadia’s characterization as an Iranian mother. “But she doesn’t, because she calls her son ‘joon,’ ‘dear,’ and she is ready to sacrifice herself for him. We can’t help it.”

Every time an Iranian mother talks to their son, their name is always followed by “joon,” or “dear.” And at the end of the conversation, it usually ends like this: “ghorbunet beram.” “I sacrifice myself for you.” Nadia literally sacrifices herself for her son. That is the best part, for me, of this scene. If she were a real mob boss, she wouldn’t get herself involved with this. But she is a housewife. She makes mistakes. That scene means so much to me. I’ve been asked, “Why does Nadia go there? She can send people to bring her son back.” But she doesn’t, because she calls her son “joon,” “dear,” and she is ready to sacrifice herself for him. Ghorbunet beram. - The Penguin’s Shohreh Aghdashloo Couldn’t Let Nadia Stay Quiet, by Roxana Hadadi,

Having established that, Jesus Christ.

Oh so that's why Shohreh Aghdashloo's name and eyes were superimposed behind the burning car the whole time in the credits, you fuckers, that's why.

The "You know my reputation?" line from the movie always took a whole different meaning with the show, but with that scene, Oz cooking a mother and her son alive while they embraced and gleefully watching it all happen, is the first time we see him deserve the reputation he boasted about, it's a real what-the-fuck moment in a way that even the stabbing in Episode 2 was not, in part because this was not necessary, and it was extremely premeditated. Oz may have done it only after the Maronis locked the door and tried to kill him, he may have done it as payback for them stealing his shrooms and trying to kill him, but he had already doused Taj in gasoline first. He likely expected Nadia to be there to retrieve him. He waited until Taj was in her arms. It's fucking vile and impossible to justify even more so than the other vile unjustifiable things Oz had done up to this point.

Extremely cool and good that, when asked if this is the worst thing Oz has done, Lauren Lefranc very quickly said No. Cool, cool cool, fun times ahead.

I highlight those excerpts where Aghdashloo discusses the character's morality because it is important to how the Maronis function differently from the Falcones, as we'll see with Sal later, but also the fact that Oz is not targeting people who are morally below him. He is not sticking it to the man by attacking the Maronis. Everything Aghdashloo describes above about Nadia's morality and decision-making aligns with how Victor and Oz function, but Nadia has more family to lose, and she respects a code that Oz wipes his ass with and actively exploits to beat them with. The Maronis still think that they can survive in this town by being strong principled gangsters, when this is a city of villains.

Something about the image of a self-pitying American gangster gleefully burning a middle-eastern family alive, under the pretense of payback but largely because he could get away with it.

"I think there's a reason that we're more interested in the life of the villains nowadays than Madame Curie or, you know, Dostoevsky, is the fact that we want to know what happens to a person that turns them from a human into a creature."

“Maybe today, where we’re standing at the junction of history, we need to get to know our villains so we know how to deal with them,” she says with a wink." -

I can't say too many of the Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul comparisons have been particularly warranted, but Oz losing his shit at daylight in a yellow/orange-lit deserted junkyard because he ruined his entire drug batch as a result of his cruel recklessness is an extremely BrBa/BCS moment, no notes.

Extreme credit to Colin Farrell that he's nonetheless able to elicit sympathy, despairing over his lifeline turned to ashes in his hands and begging Victor to get his mom somewhere safe, not even being able to name where exactly she would be, because even his mastery over the city is failing him.

Congratulations Sofia, you've risen up to the role of Batman Supervillain so fast that you even get your own Harley Quinn now

Dr.Rush is almost aggressively pathosless compared to everyone else in the show in a way that I think works for his role, that his presence is wildly uncomfortable to us in a lot of ways, and that he's even breathing speaks still to Sofia's buried need to have someone, anyone, in her corner, even a guy who was complicit in her torture.

It's easy to parse his sticking around as attraction to Sofia and I didn't quite know what to make of it, but Theo Rossi laid out a lot of very insightful commentary on the podcast regarding what he saw as the driving force of the character and those got me seeing Dr.Rush as a genuinely interesting spin on the Arkham psychologist. Even if very much not intentionally, I do think he's actually offering an interesting meditation on the broad strokes of Harley Quinn, specifically what drives an ethical-but-naive psychologist to throw themselves wholesale into submitting before the higher force-of-personality offered by a supervillain, even without being manipulated into doing so.

He, like many of us in life, was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I think that he went in with the best intentions to go into Arkham, and then he realized what Arkham was, and how horrific it was. I think, to deal with that, because someone who gives their entire life to a specific profession is kind of sheltered from real feelings, if you're dealing with other people's feelings. And I don't think he ever really explored his, in a way. So he gets this opportunity, and he sees what she has become, this butterfly. She had become something else. And he was so dying to become something else other than himself. And he had spent all these years after Arkham numbing himself and doing whatever. A lot of this came to me months after shooting (laugh).

There was a very significant part in Ep.2 where she slaps him, and what we had written in there is that he looks like he enjoyed it. It's like that he enjoyed the feeling of pain because he needed to feel something again. I think that he's become so incredibly numb to watching this horrific thing that he basically lost himself, and why he now dedicated his life to doing whatever was because he needed to rectify his soul, in a way, for what he had seen in this horrific thing.

This is someone who's lost in every single way due to the profession that they had followed, which in probably the beginning sounded like a really fantastic idea. I think that it's dedication to something and seeing now, adding on physical violence, this violence he's seeing, this true, horrific thing, and then also adding on guilt, and adding on, "Is she innocent? Am I complicit? How do I-"

And then add on his own stuff of, "I want what you have". How did you come from the depths of the worst place a human can be, to literally be thrown away, like we were just saying about Rosemary Kennedy. How do you come from there to gain your power and be fully in control? And really strut, like this peacock, where you go, "Oh my-How do I get that?". That's the superpower.

RIP in shit Johnny Viti, you died as you lived, being the idiot who thinks this is still about the money and not sending a message.

Like the other piece of shit backstabber in Sofia's life, all she needed him for was to open the door.

Extremely great incorporation of the Gigante name here, as is Sofia going to war with her mother's coat and painting her as a force too great for the Falcones to handle, assembling the final piece of the great burning self-mythology of family injustice she needs to put on a show as a Batman Villain, looking like she stepped out of the Tim Burton movies and declaring the new order everyone's gonna have to get in line with or die.

Sofia once again demonstrates the ways in which supervillains not only exist, but take over the existing orders: She arrives at the table with warpaint and fur, addressing these men as wronged underdogs like her and her mother, showing herself as a boss who will seriously and almost aggressively not screw them over for the sake of getting a cut, who will pay them ludicrously and generously if they stand by her as she chucks the royal lineage of Gotham in the trash and reaches out to their biggest enemies, as she guns down the Reasonable Businessman on the table so they can take the money caked in his brain matter - and only if they address her by her new nom-de-guerre first, of course.

Of course money is less than dogshit to her - she grew up never wanting for it, then she spend 10 years where it never mattered / actively screwed her over, and now she's single-minded on achieving vengeance and viewing money as only a necessary conversation tool - money was what Milos and Viti cared about, and that way of thinking died with them. They were the dinosaurs who thought they could out-reason or just buy out the meteor.

This new order is also part of why Sofia ultimately extends an invitation to Sal Maroni. A thing that I was not expecting about Sal, that Clancy Brown brought up as soon as he showed up on a post-episode segment, is that Sal Maroni is easily manipulated. He is the closest we've ever gotten to a classic Honorable Gangster, to a strong and silent Gary Cooper type, the Don who genuinely cares about honor and family and fairness, and he is a sucker. A dumb sucker who lost before the story began, only kept losing while in jail, who needed his wife to coach him and do the real work, and now needs Sofia, who's aiming to become an actually successful Honorable Gangster, to come in her place because he can't even avenge his family on his own.

This is how traditional crime gets it's back broken in Gotham: the mob spent two decades with cheat codes to infinite money, and then Batman took it away, and at the moment they most needed to seriously reorganize and adjust for having limited money, the freaks they created killed them and are now taking over with equally impossible promises far more appealing to regular people, continuining the chain of dominoes that reaches all the way back to the day Thomas Wayne saved Carmine Falcone's life and kicks off why and how Gotham City becomes the place where people like the Batman and the Riddler and the Penguin exist.

It is not only the episode where Sofia comes out to the world as a supervillain, but it's the one where Oz begins doing the same, as we'll see in the end.

He is not totally defenseless given the prison escape, but really the main reason he's not visibly and immediately and obviously clockable as a dumb sucker is because Clancy Brown is playing him, which fits his role as a counterpart to Carmine Falcone, Gotham's first villain The Hangman, because nobody would expect John Turturro to be the serial killer king orchestrator of everything wrong in the world. Sal is the anti-Carmine Falcone, and that's why Sofia extends him the grace of an invitation. Because he wouldn't have thrown his daughter to the wolves like that over nothing.

She knows he is right about "You Falcones eat your own", it's how she got here after all. I don't think she respects Maroni, but I think she respects every other man in Gotham even less. At least this one actually honors his word, for what good it does him, and he has just as much reason to pursue her war against Oz as she does, and in the new way of things, in this post-Batman world they live in, it is Justice and Vengeance that rule the city now.

Getting to see the horrific state Crown Point's in also goes a long way towards adding justification for Victor's decisions. That was where he lived up until Oz took him in, Squid was the most powerful person in his life up until that moment, that was the apocalyptic tragedy his beloved neighborhood had turned into. Victor has that love for Gotham and that connection to the family that died here, that the city took and he cannot accept that. That's what he shares with Oz, and with Bruce as well. Of course he couldn't leave it all behind to join Graciela in the sunset, of course he couldn't leave this city anymore than Oz or Bruce could.

Oz getting a bitter taste of his own bullshit when Eve maneuvers around his insecure temper tantrum and makes herself small so he can feel big and not endanger her any further, and he knows it - on some level he has to know she's playing him the way he plays everyone else, and he will go along with it.

Crushing stuff in that scene with Francis - Oz spinning too many plates and despairing and sinking morally and emotionally the whole episode, and then when he thinks he gets to just rest, when all he wants is to go back to his mom's arms for a beat, she shreds his heart to pieces and holds his feet to the fire so he will get back to work. Even more fucked up is that this is her doing the best she can possibly do for him at the moment, because that's how Oz gets things done. Through her negative reinforcement, when he's backed into a corner, when he's desperate and with no way out, that's when he gets miracle solutions and right now they desperately need one.

"My ma, she's what keeps me good" - even if that were even remotely true, your mom doesn't want you to be good, she wants you to win.

We're back to the shithole I raised you in and the only way we're getting out is if you become the Penguin, so be the fucking Penguin.

AND SO HE FINDS HIS OWN BATCAVE

Speaking as someone who always liked Penguin living underground as much as (maybe a little more) the Iceberg Lounge, no small part of me is happy that this one gets to do both, and that this choice of lair comes with a whole story. Oz used to play around here with his brothers, and now he's bringing along a new brother to join him down there.

Burned down to nothing but trauma and resourcefulness and the only person who hasn't given up on him, this person who's seeing him the way he wants to be seen, this kid who embodies the best of him, someone who makes this whole thing worth doing in the first place.

BREANNAH GIBSON: (on the comparison to Walter White and Jesse Pinkman) I think that's a great comparison, especially as you get into the later seasons of Breaking Bad where Walt just becomes this sort of, unrecognizable character from the pilot, and Jesse is - is sort of his moral compass. I think, in a way, Oz and Victor have a similar relationship because Oz keeps him around because he wants to mentor him, and in that way you can see that there's something good in Oz.

Like, I know that he says that his ma is good, and I think he believes that when he's saying it to Victor, but Oz would never admit that in the real situation that they're in, Victor is his moral compass here. Victor is the good in the situation, and Victor is that naive kid from the same neighborhood that Oz grew up in, that maybe Oz wants to see succeed.

And if he helps Victor succeed, he succeeds. And I think there's part of that that Oz is really enjoying about their relationship. And especially in this episode, you know, after Ep.3, Victor's all in. He came back for Oz. He saved him. He's now like, "It's the two of us, and there's nobody else." - Penguin Podcast Episode 5

Armed with these, he storms the underground to prove he can do the impossible and build an empire with two buckets.

Not just the faint last hope, but the first thing he has that's actually by his doing - not owned by the Falcones and leased to him in his role as their court jester, not something he's paying other people to let him use, something he took for himself and then grew into a whole thing.

Which is what The Penguin does - he builds and grows and takes over and expands until Batman has to deal with him. Among the Batman villains, he is the empire builder, and this is where he starts. So far he's just been fixing, now it's time to start building.

And I'll leave the final words here with @davidmann95

OZ USES THE SAME ABANDONED SUBWAY SYSTEM AS BATTINSON BECAUSE THEIR HERO/VILLAIN PARALLEL IS ROOTED IN THEIR SHARED LOVE OF GOTHAM (AS WELL AS THEIR CONNECTIONS TO THE FAMILIES THEY LOST AS CHILDREN IN THIS TAKE THAT BOTH LEAD THEM HERE), SO GOOD

we talked around it a little before but this was definitely the 'okay, fuck it, I guess I'm a supervillain now' episode

Oz, the scummy wheeling-dealing doublecrosser trying to keep all his bullshit in the air and maneuver his way into a successful partnership with anyone he can that he can eventually get on top of Someday, reaches the end of his rope

So now The Penguin has to live in his subterranean childhood trauma lair to defeat all his enemies outright by eating Gotham from the inside out with Arkham super-drugs

#dc comics #the penguin #hbo max #hbo #the penguin hbo #matt reeves #lauren lefranc #colin farrell #rhenzy feliz #cristin milioti #sofia falcone #victor aguilar #the batman

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