#Especially the part of her being oblivious that most of them are just as much as strangers to each other as they are to her

[melanchoire]

g!p drunk karina idk if i asked this alr i forgot or maybe not

this is the first time you ask this anon!!

cw: alcohol, breeding, creampie, riding.

from the beginning you knew that accepting the invitation to the program on lee youngji’s youtube channel was a bad idea when you knew that you’d have to go with karina

she had already attended that show in 2023, but that episode was so chaotic. karina was the only idol who touched her plate of food during the video, and yet, not even when her mouth was full of food did she shut up or stop being so loud and noisy 😮‍💨 and when youngji gave her a compliment and she replied “stop lying. you say that to all the female idols.” you didn’t know whether to call it having bad temper or an unbearable attitude

and so it was! that day, it seemed like karina and youngji were competing to see who could playfully flirt with you, giving you sudden compliments and most of them were very unnecessary or stupid honestly

youngji giving you more alcohol than she should 😭 none of the idols who attended got drunk, rather tipsy or something looser, but you and karina? according to youngji’s words, it was a single bottle of soju, but you swear that every time the bottle was about to run out, the moment you looked away from it and back at the drink, it magically appeared full again 🤨 but she said you were probably just being a lightweight with a bad memory and your brain was playing tricks on you

and coming home was a complete horror 💀 both you, but especially karina, were too drunk to be able to use your phones and order a taxi or call the manager 😭 youngji having to take care of that on her own, pretending to be oblivious to the reason why you two seemed so affected by alcohol when supposedly all three of you ingested the same amounts of alcohol, when she was always focusing on talking more to avoid drinking too much and letting you be the ones who drink the most drinks

having to help karina get into the taxi because she was too drunk that she couldn’t get into the car and almost hit her forehead because apparently she forgot that to get into a car you have to bend down a little and lower your head

the way home being complete silence 😶‍ you feel the driver’s gaze on you at all times, his eyes meeting yours through the rearview mirror was something impossible to ignore 🤐 that old man probably thought you were two idiots who went out with their friends and drank until they got drunk…

karina leaned against the car door, looking through the window with an expression that made it abundantly clear that a part of her was no longer here… but what dominated your thoughts the most was you praying inside that she doesn’t feel nauseous or throw up in the taxi car 😣 it would be too much embarrassment for your own good

upon arriving at her apartment building, you pay the driver and get out of the car with her in record time, you were longing to get home and lie down in your bed, your body longing for that much–loved rest that the next morning would take its toll on you with a terrible hangover

helping karina walk to the elevator by putting your arm around her torso, but luckily, at least she wasn’t pushing her weight against your side because you weren’t strong enough to carry her

but she changes completely when she gets to the door of her apartment?!?!? you innocently thought that maybe the effects of the alcohol were slowly wearing off... how naive of you!

you sit on the couch with your phone in hand, ready to order another taxi so that this time you can be the one to head home

“what are you doing?” you didn’t hear karina’s footsteps when she approached you, much less did you feel when she sat on the couch next to you too close

“uhm, trying to hail a cab home.” “you’re not going anywhere.”

you look at her with a frown, not understanding what the problem is with wanting to go home after a long and tiring day

“it‘s not safe for you to go home in this state. i mean, you’re a little drunk and it wouldn’t be very polite of me to leave you alone in this state. besides, the driver might try to take advantage of it.”

her words would have been sweeter and showed her concern for you if it weren’t for the fact that her hand is resting on your thigh and dangerously close to your inner thigh, sliding up and down as her head rests on your shoulder with her face almost hidden in the crook of your neck

and you would say something at the sudden and very close touch if it weren't for the fact that she doesn’t let you react and suddenly kisses you

you would object to this but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t wanted for a long time to be this close to your dear leader... but please! she’s the whole combo. that pretty face with pronounced and sharp features that looks good even without makeup. that body… at first, it seemed a little absurd when fans were so obsessed with the term “body goals” or always talking about the artists’ bodies, but god, when you started going to the gym or practicing and rehearsing choreographies for comebacks or performances at awards ceremonies with karina, your mouth watered every time karina wore tight shirts or something that accentuated her chest 👀 and when she wore leggings or sweatpants? it was more than a difficult task for you not to have your eyes glued to the notorious outline of her dick 😣 you felt like a pervert having your gaze glued to your leader’s crotch every time you saw the tent in her pants, almost immediately taking your eyes off her and hoping that if anyone noticed they would think you were just staring at a blank spot or just not focusing your gaze

you don’t remember exactly when you went from just kissing karina on the couch in her apartment to being on her lap riding her cock... but you weren’t complaining!

based on her blurry eyes and lazy grin you can’t exactly tell what she’s concentrating on right now… maybe she was paying attention to the vulnerable look on your face, noticing the frown and grimace you were trying to hide due to you having some difficulty getting used to the size of your leader ☹️ or maybe she was admiring the way your hips moved against hers and how your pussy was having some trouble taking her length completely because look at her! she’s definitely big and just by looking at her face you know it 😉 and the way your tits were bouncing under your shirt? that was something that had caught karina’s gaze and had taken her full attention, if it were up to her, she wouldn’t have hesitated twice to tear the fabric from your skin and let your bare breasts jiggle in front of her face or even bury her face between them and entertain her mouth for a while… but karina’s hands were too busy resting on your thighs and massaging your skin, occasionally rising to sit on your hip bones and guide your movements, or even go down to your ass and give your cheeks a couple of slaps until they have bright red finger marks and then massage the skin to make sure you’re not so sore afterwards because she’s not that mean!

she’s sooo cocky about it. “having a hard time up there? c’mon baby, i know you can take it. do it for unnie.” and she digs her fingers into your hips as she moves her own hips up to meet yours and thrust into you 😵‍💫

and she absolutely loves it when your orgasm starts to get closer and you lose control completely, going from having your hands on her shoulders to wrapping your arms around her neck and pressing your chest against hers as you lose complete control as you ride her 🥴

and karina is not mean or selfish at all! massaging your clit with two of her fingers in a rhythm that drove you crazy, whispering taunts mixed with compliments in your ear and looking at you with glossy eyes and a smug smile… she really enjoyed it when you came on her cock at the same time as she filled your womb with her seed! 🥰 keeping her cock inside your pussy to make sure she keeps it all inside you until your walls absorb it completely and not even the smallest drop dares to escape

your limp body resting on top of karina’s because riding her took all the energy out of your body and the alcohol was starting to take its toll on you and you were starting to feel dizzy 💔

luckily, karina unnie is always here to take care of her members, especially when it comes to her favorite member ❤️ running a hand through your hair, brushing away the loose strands that stuck to your forehead from the thin layer of sweat covering your body, giving you a kiss on the crown of your head and massaging your back

but karina was in a much worse state than you, even if you don’t believe it! it was enough to leave you lying on her bed for her body to fall on the mattress as if she had no life

and well, the next day is a different story. waking up with karina hugging you from behind, her chest pressed against your back and murmuring a ‘good morning.’ in a deep and raspy voice 😵‍💫 she offers you to shower with her because according to her words it’s late and you have less than an hour to get ready and go to the company, and well, for one or another reason you two end up having a quickie in the shower, karina pressing your chest against the cold tiles of the wall and fucking you from behind with her hands having an almost tearing grip on your waist and growling in your ear 🤤

arriving at practice with an unbearable hangover and pain in your hips that you try to hide but it’s difficult when you have to do a movement that requires too much effort in that area… the members know that you did nothing but sit and drink with youngji yesterday, but none of them dare to comment on what their unnies do in their free time together

[luminiamore]

sweet.

(universe)

warnings: kento being oblivious, gojo flirting with reader (3sum in the near future), jealous reader, soft sex, mirror sex, heavy praise, bare with me noww, this isn’t directly related to part one but it is from the the same universe. im temporarily back lols, enjoy!

for the first time ever in your life, you find yourself filled with jealousy. over a man. the realization is like a poison you can’t shake off, sitting uncomfortably in your chest. you decide then and there that you don’t like this feeling at all. far from fond of the way your blood boils, the way you feel an almost primal urge to fight another woman—over him. your glossed lips crinkle into a nasty scowl as your ears hyper-fixate on the sound of her obnoxiously high-pitched laughter. he wasn’t even that funny.

you swear your eye twitches when she trails her manicured nails down his shoulder, her movements slow, deliberate, teasing. she’s not ugly—not even close. you can admit that. but you’re by no means insecure. in fact, you’re painfully aware of how stunning you look tonight. still, the thought burns: why isn’t he pushing her away?

they clearly know each other; this is a business work event, after all. a secretary, maybe? his assistant? your mind races trying to place her, but no name or face comes to mind. kento never mentioned her before. you would know—he tells you everything about his long, draining work days. he’s also so precise in recounting every detail, you’re there to listen to them as you massage his scalp.

you distinctly remember names like leiri, suguru, utahime. even that guy, gojo. he talks about him the most, despite how much he apparently irritates him to no end.

but this woman? her perfectly styled red hair, the way she clings onto his words like gospel- she’s a mystery. one he conveniently forgot to mention in his stories.

is this why he invited you? to watch him let another woman touch him, laugh with him, lean into him in ways that make your stomach twist?

his face bears his signature stoic expression as he speaks to her, but you can’t unsee the way he smiles occasionally. even the small, intimate gesture of fixing the strap of her dress has your jaw clenching.

kento is a gentlemen, you know this. but does he really have to display it like this? with each passing moment, your heart sinks further, the pit in your stomach growing heavier. it’s sickening.

you’re too pretty for this.

especially tonight, with your strapless light pink bubble dress that hugs your waist like a second skin, sculpting you into a vision of perfection. every step you take, every slight movement sends your high, sleek barbie ponytail swishing behind you in defiance, like a crown that refuses to let you forget who you are.

your makeup is immaculate: fluttery lashes that make your eyes impossibly doll-like, catching every flicker of light, and a soft blush dusting your cheeks, enhancing your angelic glow.

you weren’t brought here to be ignored.

yet here you are, simmering with jealousy, your perfectly manicured white nails digging into your palm as you stare them down from across the room. this won’t do. you weren’t dressed to perfection to be overlooked. not by him.

it seems your prayers were answered, faster than expected too. gojo sauntered toward you with the kind of confidence that bordered on arrogance. his snowy hair was nicely tousled, as though it was styled enough just enough to look effortlessly undone. a smug grin was already plastered across his no doubt beautiful face.

the air seemed to shift around him. his tailored black suit hugged his tall frame perfectly, the satin lapels catching the low, golden light. the collar of his crisp white shirt was left slightly undone, offering a subtle glimpse of pale skin beneath. polished black oxfords clicked softly against the floor.

you hadn’t even noticed him at first—too busy glaring daggers into the back of the redhead currently stealing your kento’s attention. but the moment gojo entered your periphery, the energy changed. this time in your favor.

he was impossible to miss as he approached you where you sat in the middle of the bar. he could sense your simmering frustration from across the room—no doubt about your date letting another woman throw herself on him. and of course, decided to intervene.

“is this seat taken, or should i just assume this drink is for me?” his voice was smooth, too easy.

he leaned against the high barstool you occupied, one arm resting on the polished surface of the bar while the other toyed with the edge of your untouched glass. his tone carried a playful lilt as if he’d already decided the answer didn’t matter—he’d stay regardless.

your brows knitted together in confusion as you turned to face the source of the bold interruption. your pretty glossed lips, which had been set in an irritated scowl mere moments ago, softened and shifted into an involuntary pout

your voice, smooth yet edged with a hint of incredulity, carried the weight of your surprise as you spoke, “um, excuse me?” the words hung in the air as you tilted your head ever so slightly.

the moment he spoke, you recognized him. the confident, almost cocky grin, paired with that signature tousled white hair—it was unmistakable. gojo satoru.

“didn’t mean to startle you, doll,” he said, his voice low. he motioned toward your drink, still untouched, the ice inside barely melted. “this drink is still full, and from where i’m standing, you look like you could use some company.”

he paused, his gaze locking with yours, his smirk growing ever so slightly. “but if you prefer the solitude… i can always grab my own drink.”

his words lingered in the air, but you couldn’t help but notice the challenge behind them, the underlying invitation. he was perfectly at ease, as if this were just another conversation.

you blinked at him, momentarily taken aback by his audacity. the corner of your mouth twitched into a small smile as you tilted your head again, batting your long lashes. “and you are…?”

you asked, drawing out the words with just the right amount of innocence, pretending you didn’t already know exactly who he was.

as of his smirk could stretch even wider, gojo’s gaze sharpens with amusement. kento had mentioned you before— you’re like a doll, a fragile, perfect little thing. and god, was he right. you were exactly what he painted, even more striking in person if he was honest.

your brown skin caught the light in the most mesmerizing way, a subtle shimmer that seemed to radiate with every movement you made. it was as though your entire being was illuminated. every curve and contour of your body glowing with a soft, ethereal radiance. to him, you weren’t just beautiful, but something more—almost otherworldly, like an angel walking among them.

his eyes flickered from your drink, still untouched, and then back to you, his gaze slow and deliberate. he took in every detail, memorizing your every move. the subtle pout on your glossy lips, that almost imperceptible shift in your posture, and the way your eyes glimmered, measuring him up.

he couldn’t help but wonder—how could kento leave you alone like this?

his voice smooth as honey, “gojo satoru. maybe kento’s told you about me? he’s mentioned you a bunch of times.” he pauses, letting the words hang in the air for a moment longer than necessary.

if you’re surprised, you don’t show it. you keep that perfect, aloof air about you, your gaze never once wavering from his.

“but don’t worry,” the white haired man continued, that stupid charming grin still there. “i’m not here to step on his toes. just thought i’d say hello to the beauty he left alone tonight.”

he’s flirting with you. there’s no mistaking it. the playful tone in his voice, the way his eyes linger on you, all of it signals the intention behind his words.

you can feel a warmth crawl up your neck, a subtle thrill coursing through you at the sudden attention. it’s a spark igniting within you, something you only felt with kento. you try to hold back, but your lips betray you, curving into a small, involuntary smile.

for a split second, your gaze shifts over to kento. your heart skips a beat when you find him already looking at you, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch. his gaze feels like a weight, heavy and unyielding, pressing against your chest. it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what it is—anger, concern, or something else entirely.

it’s the kind of look that makes you feel exposed. he’s dissecting every tiny movement, every flicker of emotion crossing your face. despite his distance from you.

you quickly tear your eyes away from kento, a twinge of guilt flooding your chest as you force your attention back to gojo. his playful gaze never wavers.

“something the matter, doll?” he asks, his voice light, but the tone betrays an undercurrent of amusement.

you finally respond, your voice a little breathier than you intended, and a warm flush creeps up your neck, coloring your cheeks. “he talks about me? i didn’t really think he was the type to gossip.”

you’re still processing the idea of kento mentioning you to someone like gojo. he talks as if he despises the man, always with a hint of irritation and sometimes even disgust. as if even mentioning his name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

you always assumed the two were at odds, maybe even enemies of some kind with how often he complains about how insufferable he can be.

a deep chuckle fills your ears, it’s like the sound of a well-aged wine being uncorked. “oh, he’s not,” gojo starts. “but trust me, when it comes to someone like you, he can’t help himself.”

his eyes flicker to kento for just a moment, his gaze lingering briefly, before it’s back on you, “i can see why, though,” he adds, his lips curling into a knowing smile. “you’ve already got me hooked on you.”

his way of nonchalance is almost unsettling. doesn’t he know how territorial kento can get? or does he just not care?

you glance over at kento again, his expression unreadable, but the slight tension in his jaw betrays his quiet disapproval.

“you’re not worried about kento?” the question slips from your lips before you can stop it, your voice barely above a whisper, though you’re not sure whether you’re asking gojo or yourself. it feels strange to voice it aloud. you’ve always thought of kento as someone who would take any threat to his control seriously, and here gojo is, flirting with you in plain sight, with no hesitation.

“worried? about him?” he grumbles, “trust me, doll, kento’s a big boy. i’m not sure if i’m the one he need to worry about.”

what did he mean by that? you’re still processing his words, but as gojo holds your gaze, that familiar feeling of being seen—really seen—creeps up on you. it’s unnerving, but you don’t want him to look away somehow.

for a moment, the room around you fades as you focus solely on the man before you. it’s crazy how easily he’s made you forget about everything else. you want to respond, to call his bluff, but something about how intense he is stops you. instead, you simply blink.

before you can even begin to gather your thoughts and formulate an answer, a heavy hand lands on your shoulder. you feel a warmth run down your spine. that scent—woodsy, with a hint of something clean and crisp—fills the air around you.

your breath catches in your throat slightly and without needing to look, you know it’s him. the very essence of kento’s controlled demeanor has momentarily broken the charged bubble that gojo created between you two.

you glance over your shoulder, and there he is—kento, standing tall, stoic, his usual composed self. his sharp eyes lock onto gojo with an unreadable expression, though there’s a subtle tension in his jaw, the only giveaway of how he’s truly feeling. his presence towering over you in a way that feels protective—if not a little possessive.

gojo, however, doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. in fact, he leans back into his seat, his grin widening into something more smug, as if this is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

you can feel the heat of both men’s attention on you now. what is happening?

kento’s voice breaks the silence, cool and measured, like he’s carefully weighing his words.

“gojo,” he starts, his eyes still locked onto the white-haired man. his hand on your shoulder shifts slightly, he’s trying to keep a lid on whatever’s simmering beneath. “if you’re done with your little game, i think it’s time for you to let her breath a little, hm?” he doesn’t look at you as he talks.

gojo is savoring this moment. “what game?” he replies smoothly, raising an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this more than he probably should. cerulean eyes flickering between the two of you, “i’m just saying hello to the beauty you ditched tonight.”

“you’ve said your hello, and now it’s time for us to leave,” kento says flatly, a hard edge to his tone. his grip on your shoulder tightens just a fraction, a silent cue that he’s ready to move things along—away from gojo, away from whatever this is.

before you can process it fully, you make a sound—a soft, almost instinctive protest. it escapes before you can stop it, you don’t want to leave yet.

you were just starting to enjoy yourself. the night had only just begun to shift into something fun—why does he get to bask in the attention of someone else but when it comes to anyone showing interest in you, it’s time to go? that’s not fair.

gojo, ever the perceptive one, picks up on the subtle shift in your energy almost immediately. the way your body tenses, the slight flicker of uncertainty in your eyes as you glance back and forth between him and kento.

“i don’t think the little doll here wants to leave,” gojo comments, his voice dripping with a teasing drawl.

kento barely flinches at gojo’s remark. without missing a beat, his expression hardens just slightly, and he steps fully into your space. “we’re leaving. now,” kento states, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument.

you open your mouth to protest, the words forming on your lips, but before you can voice them, kento’s gaze sharpens, and the intensity of it pins you in place. your protest dies in your throat.

gojo, watching this exchange, can’t help the intrigued look that tugs on his entire face. there’s something interesting about how easily kento exerts control over you, how effortlessly he can shut you down with just a look. it makes gojo wonder—would you react the same way to him? would you let him dominate the space between you, take charge and make you follow his lead like kento does?

a flash of something darker flickers in gojo’s gaze and another flicker of curiosity about what it would take for him to have that kind of influence over you.

you stand from your seat, your so kate heels clicking against the marble floor. you move reluctantly, and gojo watches every step, his eyes never leaving you.

when you glance up and send him an apologetic look, something in him shifts. you look almost delicate in that moment and then something twitch in his dress pants. the very idea of you stirs a response in him that he can’t quite ignore. he doesn’t want to.

“hey, don’t look so sorry, doll,” gojo murmurs, leaning forward just a little, his gaze fixed firmly on kento, his eyes sharp with that unrelenting amusement. “i’m sure i’ll see you again, sooner than you think.”

his presence lingers in the air, like an invisible thread pulling at you, even as you turn away. you know, without a doubt, that his eyes are still on you as you step out and kento opens the door for you, that ever-present smirk never leaving his face as he takes a sip from the drink you left.

the ride back to kento’s penthouse is suffocatingly quiet. the hum of the car is the only sound in the air as the night wraps around you both. your body is turned as far away from him as you can manage, trying to press yourself into the cool, unyielding door as if putting distance between you two will somehow ease the frustration you feel.

the silence grows heavier before kento finally speaks. his voice is low, careful, like he’s trying to gauge your reaction.

“you seem upset,” he starts, the words almost too casual, too calm. “care to tell me why?”

there’s a sharp edge to his tone, barely noticeable but enough to let you know he’s waiting for something—some kind of explanation, maybe.

you don’t give him the satisfaction of a response. you keep your gaze fixed on the window, the lights of the city blurring past as if you’re not even there.

kento’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white as his gaze flickers over to you. his patience thinning, but he tries to keep himself calm, measured as he speaks.

“are you upset with me?”

you remain silent, your gaze fixed out the window, refusing to acknowledge him. but this time, the silence isn’t enough for him. he sighs—deep and almost tired.

“is there a reason why you were letting gojo satoru flirt with you?” his voice is low.

you don’t give him any silence this time. without missing a beat, you turn slightly toward him. your voice uncharacteristically sharp, “is there a reason why you were letting some redhead throw herself on you?”

he knows exactly who you’re talking about—the redhead, his secretary, the one who had been working under him for a while now. honestly, he hadn’t thought much of her beyond the occasional brief interaction. to him, she was just another colleague, someone he’d see around the office now and then, exchanging pleasantries and handling basic tasks.

but hearing you mention her like this makes him pause. was she really throwing herself at him? kento, though sharp in many ways, was infamously dense when it came to detecting romantic interest.

he’d never picked up on the subtle hints or the flirty undertones that others would easily recognize. he’d always just chalked up her attentions as professional, after all he is her boss.

“were you jealous, sweetheart?” he can’t help but take the opportunity to tease you. and despite how frustrated you are, you still shy away from his words. your kento always had that effect on you. jealous? no way.

you quip, “no! not jealous. it’s just weird that you never told me about her, that’s all.”

he watches as you look away, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. there’s something about the way you try to brush it off that only makes him want to poke at you more. he’s used to you being a little oblivious, and honestly, he finds it kind of endearing.

“mm, is that so?” he muses, “it’s weird that i didn’t tell you about her?” his eyebrow raises, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “and here i thought you wouldn’t be interested in a measly secretary.”

to kento, when he’s describing his day to you, he only feels the need to mention the important things. why would he ever need to mention someone as insignificant as a secretary?

but he’s not done yet. his gaze softens, and there’s a small, almost tender shift in his expression as he watches you carefully. you almost forget that you two were still on the road. “you really don’t think i’d keep something like that from you on purpose, do you?”

you hesitate, your lips parted for a moment before you mutter, “don’t know.”

a slight chuckle escapes as if to reassure you that it was never anything worth mentioning. you know kento wouldn’t lie to you, and his tone conveys that sincerity. he’s just not the type to complicate things with unnecessary details.

he watches you, eyes soft but intrigued, as he can tell you’re battling what to do in that pretty little head of yours. it’s a look he’s grown used to, and, strangely, he finds it oddly charming. the way you’re focused on him, trying to process everything he says, more concerned with the things you don’t quite understand than with anything else.

it’s a kind of sweetness he doesn’t even realize he’s craving.

you finally make it to his home, a sleek, minimalist penthouse that mirrors kento’s composed demeanor. the dim lighting casts a soft glow across the space, highlighting the clean lines and neutral tones of the decor. the subtle scent of his cologne still lingers in the air as he leads you through the entryway.

his hand never leaves yours, his firm grip guiding you effortlessly up to his top-floor suite. you follow him without question, your heels clicking softly against the polished marble floors. the weight of the evening settles over you, and you don’t dare speak—not because you’re afraid, but because you don’t know what to say.

your thoughts drift, circling back to the restaurant, to gojo, to the way kento’s jaw had tensed ever so slightly when he saw you exchanging words with the white-haired man. the memory sends a flush of heat to your cheeks, but you push it aside, grateful that kento hasn’t brought it up again.

you almost let yourself relax, eternally thankful that he didn’t press further—didn’t question why you hadn’t pushed gojo away or why you seemed so unsure in the moment. maybe he understood that you were caught off guard, or maybe he simply chose to spare you the embarrassment of having to explain yourself.

he leads you into his bedroom, the expansive city skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. the silence between you feels as if kento is giving you space to collect yourself.

you don’t dare look at him directly, instead letting your gaze wander over the room. you can feel his presence behind you, steady and unwavering, and you know he’s watching—assessing you in that quiet, observant way he always does.

still, he says nothing about gojo, and you’re not sure if that makes you feel relieved or unsettled.

however, kento isn’t the type to let something like that slide—not because he’s angry, but because he’s curious. intrigued. at the way you didn’t immediately recoil from gojo’s teasing, the subtle way your lashes fluttered and your lips quirked, had left a faint, simmering heat in his chest.

it wasn’t jealousy, not entirely, at least. it was way more complicated than that.

he watches you for a moment as he helps you undress. he starts with your heels, carefully pulling them off as his hand rests on your soft ankle. his look is sharp, like he’s carefully dissecting the situation.

you’re so sweetly oblivious to the weight of his business partner’s attention and how you seemed to react to it. kento isn’t sure if he should be annoyed or interested at the possibilities it stirs in him.

“you seemed to enjoy the attention earlier,” he says at last, his voice soft and deliberate.

“what? no,” you protest immediately, shaking your head and giving him that wide-eyed look he knows so well. “i didn’t—i mean, it was just—he was being weird.”

his lips twitch slightly into a shadow of a smile that doesn’t quite form. his brown eyes narrow ever so slightly as he stands up, pulling you with him and spinning you around to start unzipping your tight dress. there’s no urgency in the way he moves.

“hm,” he hums, the sound low and thoughtful, like he’s pondering something far more complicated than he’s letting on. the sound of you dress hitting the floor is deafening—and now you’re just left in your white thong standing in front of his tall mirror.

“but you didn’t stop him,” he continues. his words hang in the air, heavy with implication. “you didn’t seem to mind it.”

you blink up at him, flustered, your mind scrambling to catch up with the weight of his words. his gaze feels heavy, pulling at you, and it only makes the heat in your cheeks burn hotter. your lips part, but the words don’t come right away.

finally, you stammer out, “i… i didn’t know what to do.” your eyes flicker away from him, unable to hold his piercing stare for too long, as if it’s too much to handle.

you fidget slightly, your fingers twisting on the tiny band of your panties as the weight of his attention settles heavily on you. “is he usually so forward like that?”

you sneak another glance at him, hoping your words might deflect some of the intensity of his focus. it doesn’t and its making your heart pound a little faster.

he doesn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch between you for a moment longer than comfortable. it’s on purpose, you can tell—like he’s savoring the way you’re squirming under his attention, trying to find your footing.

then his hand moves, covering your fidgeting fingers with his own, stilling them. “you’re going to ruin those if you keep twisting them like that,” he murmurs.

before you can respond, he leans in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your collarbone. the softness of his lips against your skin sends a shiver through you, and you gasp, the sound escaping before you can stop it.

a warm and deep chuckle follows, leaving a throbbing ache between your thighs.

“usually,” he answers at last. “you liked that, didn’t you?”

your lips part as if to respond, but no words come. his hand slides lower, settling on your inner thigh, so close yet not nearly close enough to where you need him most. it’s eating at you.

you swallow hard, your breath hitching slightly, as your mind struggles to piece together what he’s really asking.

“i’m not upset,” he says after a moment, his voice softening just enough to make you meet his gaze again. his thumb starts tracing slow circles that make your skin burn. “i just want an answer, sweetheart.”

you nod slowly, unsure of what else to do, though you should know better by now.

a sharp pinch lands on the plush curve of your thigh. the sensation startles you, and a soft yelp escapes your lips before you can bite it back. his breath is warm against your ear as he leans in,

“words, doll,” he murmurs, the faint gruffness in his voice making it clear he’s not asking. he’s using gojos words against you and it makes the slick pooling in your panties increase tenfold.

“come on,” he urges softly, “use that pretty mouth of yours. i know you can.”

you messily breathe out, “yes ken, i really liked it.”

you’re so consumed by the weight of your confession that you fail to notice the subtle shift in kento’s expression. there’s a flicker in his eyes, a deepening intensity, as if something has just snapped into place.

he would really do anything for you. anything.

you might not fully understand the depths of it yet. and you don’t need to. in this moment, kento’s world seems to orbit around you, and it’s clear that he’s willing to give everything for your pleasure, your trust, your everything.

that’s all he needed to press two of his large fingers on your panty covered cunt, quietly groaning at the wet patch that seemed to have accumulated during his talking. who knew talking about gojo would get you this soaked?

it seems you’re thinking the same thing as you try to muffle your whine with your hand, covering your face because you’re just so embarrassed. “none of that, sweetheart. eyes on the mirror, understand?”

your legs are shaking, twitching really at the sensation of his subtle rubbing on your sensitive clit. your pretty nipples perking up due to the contact of the cold air. and kento notices, of course he does.

your eyes hit the mirror swift, your hands dropping instantly. your eyes are hazy, staring back at him with desperation, “yes, ken”

“such a good girl. the most perfect girl.”

kento moves to face you directly. with precision, he presses you flush against the wall, the cool surface biting against your back as the heat of his body contrasts sharply against your front. his hands settle on either side of you, caging you in.

his movements are unhurried, savoring every second of you like this. slowly, he lowers himself, his knees hitting the floor with a purposeful thud.

his focus is no longer on you, rather your twitching brown heat. he can even see your arousal dripping down your glistening thighs. your lower lips are plump and sticky, practically begging for him to place his mouth on you.

how could he ever deny you?

he uses his tongue swiftly, harshly, and unrelentingly to attack your dripping mound. starting from the base of your hole to where your clit was poking out of its hood, his senses overwhelmed with the sweet taste of you.

still, he can’t help but bring it up again, “you’d let him taste you just like this, wouldn’t you?”

“kennn,” a cute whine eludes you. but you can’t hide the way you leak even more at the idea. he laps at you more rapidly, sending the sounds you make echoing across the room.

he emits a deep, guttural groan, the sound vibrating through you and making your thighs clench around his head involuntarily. his large hands grip your hips firmly, keeping you firm against the wall as his tongue penetrates your wet hole. “hm, doll? you’d let satoru ruin you like i always do?”

“y-yes- oh! i would!”

kento quickly swaps his tongue with his index and ring fingers and curls them to your favorite spot. finding that the sound you make is something he would honestly kill for. he bets on you making those sounds for satoru too.

he opts to suck, hard on your beautiful pearl with his mouth.

you breath stutters, little gasps and chokes of a moan being stolen from you, “oh christ- ken! ken, baby- m’so close.”

the feeling starts low, deep in your core, like a slow, simmering warmth that makes your body feel electric. ever hypersensitive, you more heavily start to feel that intoxicating pressure in your lower abdomen.

your breath quickens, coming out in soft, airy gasps, and you can’t stop the way your body arches, your back curving as you chase every ounce of pleasure being given to you. your manicured nails dig into kento’s broad shoulder, still covered by his dress shirt.

“will you, sweatheart? make a mess for me, yeah?” you don’t know how but his fingers move faster, jabbing and poking precisely in that sensitive spot that makes your head spin.

“make a mess for satoru.”

then it happens, the release washing over you in a cascading rush that steals your breath and leaves you trembling. behind your closed eyes, you could’ve sworn you’ve see a white light. your legs shake and your glossy lips part with loud, breathy moans that you can’t control, too lost in the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

the intensity leaves you lightheaded, dizzy even. your body swaying as if it can’t bear the weight of such pleasure.

you feel kento’s strong hands on your waist, steadying you, his hold being the only thing keeping your legs from crumbling beneath you. every muscle turned to liquid.

“easy, sweetheart,” he watches you, utterly captivated by the way you’re still trembling in his arms, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath.

he knows he should give you a moment to recover, to let your body come down from the high that’s left you so drained. this orgasm clearly took so much out of you-it’s written all over the way you slump against him as he stands in front of you.

but kento... kento can rarely contain himself when it comes to you. he strokes a hand down your back, the warmth of his palm possessive, his lips gently grazing your temple.

“you’re so perfect,” he murmurs, voice thick with want. “so good to me, doll. you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

he tightens his grip on you just slightly, his fingers pressing into your soft skin like he’s staking his claim.

you nod weakly, the response instinctual because you know he’d never do anything to hurt you. kento sees it in your eyes, that sweet look, that unwavering willingness to let him have his way with you-and he can admit, it drives him insane.

“good. good girl,” he whispers.

that’s all you hear before you feel him lifting your body up and your legs wrap around his hips. it’s hard not to pay attention to the pressure of his thick tip pressing at your creamy entrance.

when had he even taken his pants off? you’re not sure. in fact, you’re not even prepared for the way he suddenly presses into you, your slippery folds stretching its best to accommodate to his massive size. fuck, it was all too much!

kento releases a shaky breath, his mind scrambling to figure out how can one person feel so heavenly, “always so tight aren’t you, sweetheart?”

you mewl at his words, mewl at the way you feel so full yet he’s not even halfway inside you yet.

“s’too- too much!”

as if to disprove your trembling protest, kento pushes in deeper, his hips meeting the backs of your thighs with a force. your breath catches in your throat, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as the new angle overwhelms you completely.

your legs dangle limply over his broad shoulders, your knees pressed tightly to your chest, leaving you utterly at his mercy. the position forces you to take all of him, every inch sinking deeper, stretching you in a way that borders on unbearable. but it’s so addictive.

he’s so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat, stealing the air from your lungs and leaving you dizzy.

“fuck,” he groans, his voice husky, vibrating through your entire body as he holds himself there, buried so fully it feels like there’s no part of you he hasn’t claimed. “look at you, doll. taking me so well.”

his large hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as your body twitches beneath him. the stretch is a sinful combination of pain and pleasure that leaves tears prickling in your eyes.

“can feel you squeezing me,” he mutters, his breath hot against your ear as he leans over you, pressing you deeper into the wall with his weight. “so fucking pretty like this, sweetheart... it’s almost like you were made for me.”

you can’t respond-you can barely think. all you know is you want more. and more. and more.

like he’s read your mind.. he starts to pull out, the slow drag of his length leaving you gasping, each inch pulling at every overstimulated nerve within you.

his hair brushes lightly against your cheeks as he bends down just slightly. his gaze drops to where your bodies are joined, watching with unrestrained hunger as your slick clings to him, coating his entire length.

“look at that,” he murmurs, his voice low, sending another pulse of heat straight to your core. he shudders at the sight, his fingers tightening their grip on your thighs as if to steady himself.

then, without warning, he thrusts back into you with a brutal force that knocks the air from your lungs. your back arches against the wall, a broken cry spilling from your lips as he buries himself to the hilt once more, the sudden fullness making your head spin.

“you feel that, sweetheart?” he groans, his breath hot against your ear as he sets a punishing rhythm, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, as if determined to remind you just how completely he owns every inch of you. “my perfect angel.”

you’re helpless against the wave of pleasure building within you, dragging you under with every deep stroke.

your warmth is making his brain scramble, causing him to start rambling now. “maybe i should let satoru take you like this.”

the way you tighten around him is his incentive to keep whispering against your panting lips. “bet he wants to own this sloppy pussy like i do, hm?”

you’re not sure what he’s saying. your mind is currently clouded by the way his tip repeatedly taps your cervix. nevertheless, you swiftly nod your head at his words. you’d agree to anything if it meant he would keep giving you pleasure like this.

you feel that familiar heat stirring deep in your lower abdomen, a subtle warmth that quickly intensifies, growing more forceful, more urgent with every passing second.

this time, though, it’s different. there’s something more uncontrollable about it. you recognize the signs — the way it tightens and twists inside you, a sure signal that you’re about to squirt. you’re about to make a mess.

“gonna cum, doll?” kento makes a grunt and directs his hips to directly punish your gummy spot. if he had neighbors, they would probably hear you cry out bloody murder.

you mumble out through your shaky moans, “y-yes! m’gonna cum, for you! for ‘toru!”

you’re so fucked out, you barely recognize the little slip of the nickname you cried out. you’re a precious thing, fuck. his hand slips down to find your little nub and rubs tight circles so quickly, it almost feels like whiplash when the pleasure hits you.

“go ahead, sweetheart. kenny’s got you. let it all out.”

at his command, you do. you gurgle, letting out clear streams of your juice that spray all over his dress shirt, lightly sprinkling over his open mouth, tasting you. your chest heaves, back arches closer to kento, legs tremble as you lose all sense of your surroundings. you can’t even recall your own name. the only thing you know at this moment is this feeling of pure euphoria.

kento pace starts getting uncoordinated, sloppy as he ruts into you. it’s not long before he follows after you quickly, a deep moan rumbling from the depth of chest as he spurts out thick ropes of his seed into your awaiting womb. and you take it all. because yore his good girl.

it’s so much you can feel like overflowing out of your heat, small streams dripping down your spasming other hole.

he gradually pulls out and quickly kneels down to observe how his cum drips out of your cunt like thick paste. it’s mesmerizing. he slides two fingers up your slit, collecting a nice glob of his aftermath before pushing it back inside of you.

you exhale in a mixture of a whine and a choke, even going as far as to whisper that you’re too sensitive. you don’t know that kento had planned this, you also don’t know that satoru is on his way to you both right now. with his eyes still focused on your pulsing mound, he tuts at you.

“don’t be like that, doll. you need to give me at least one more before ‘toru gets here.”

[sugarandspicewriting]

Jealousy, Jealousy!

Summary: You're approached by someone at the bar. How do they react?

Warnings: 800 words. Mentions of insecurities on Marcille's part.

A/N: These were starting to rot in my google docs so enjoy!

Laios

girl

Congratulations on getting this man to understand that you are interested in a monogamous romantic relationship with him and got him to agree. The hardest part is over.

If he sees you having a conversation with someone it’s unlikely he’ll care. Unless they’re beastkin or some type of monster hybrid then he’ll care.

Even if he’s standing there with you and blatantly hitting on you he’ll probably say something like “yeah aren’t they so cool :) “

Sighs

It’s far more likely that you’ll be the one experiencing jealousy in the relationship since he's just as oblivious about people flirting with him than he is people flirting with you.

Marcille

She is the one who gets jealous in a very obvious way but at the same time is the one who will most vehemently deny it. 

You're having a polite conversation with an adventurer about your respective experiences in dungeons and you can almost feel her pouting at you.

When you turn to look at she has the same face she makes when Laios has a meal recommendation.

Disgust and general upsetness.

Marcille hates that she feels this way, but her insecurities always get the better of her, especially if you're a short lived race.

She already has so little time with you in this world, and she's loath to share it.

As much as she wants to, it’s unlikely that she’ll interrupt the conversation. If she sees that whoever you’re speaking to is making you uncomfortable she’ll step in but she’ll most likely just sit and pout into her food.

When you go home, she’s unusually quiet.

Unless you’re the kind of person that’s completely oblivious to other people's feelings, you’ll understand what’s going on.

The best course of action is to gently remind her that you love her and that you want to spend your life by her side, no matter how long it is.

Kabru

Somehow turns it into an opportunity to gain information

You’re chatting away and all of a sudden he’s sliding next to you and putting his hand on you somewhere and he’s doing that smile he does at the other person that tells you that he’s about to get this person's life story

If you’re introverted this could be a blessing, because he can honestly just take over the conversation from there. Kabru will buy you a drink for your troubles and you can sit there and sip while they yap.

If the person is actually interested in you the interaction will become hostile but only in its undertones.

Kabru has invested too much time and energy into being seen as kind and charming and he doesn’t want to wreck it.

He’ll start saying things like ““It’s very crowded here. Do you think anyone would notice if someone disappeared?”

“I think red is your color. Would you want to wear some soon?” 

Okay weirdo (affectionately) 

Hopefully the person he’s talking to gets the hint. If they don’t he’ll make up some excuse to remove both of you from the situation. 

Mithrun

He leans more towards possessiveness rather than jealousy.

If someone is talking to you and he doesn’t like it he will simply grab you or the offender and teleport away.

Which one he grabs depends on how aggressive he deemed them to be

If it's just a normal conversation he’ll teleport you away outside the bar. It’s pretty irritating especially if you were enjoying yourself or you were getting good information. Threaten to make him sleep on the couch. He’ll say he’s sorry but he will absolutely do it again. 

If he decides your conversation partner is being flirty with you, you’ll sense his anger without even seeing him  just before he disappears with them.

When he makes his way back you angrily ask what he’s done. He tells you he just gave them a stern talking to. Yeah sure. That person is never seen again and he receives a strongly worded message from Pattadol everytime it happens.

You should probably actually make him sleep on the couch.

Thistle

Thistle does not get jealous because he has no reason to.

No one in the Golden Kingdom is dumb enough to try and invoke his wrath especially when it comes to you.

You’re all he has left after Delgal disappeared.

Similar to Mithrun, he’s more possessive than jealous.

If he is spending time with you, he expects to have 100% of your attention.

He took a break on searching for Delgal to come and see you because he loves (is dangerously obsessed) with you! Don’t you appreciate it! Love him!

Even before the mess with Delgal when he was still a jester, I can’t imagine him being jealous.

He’s got such a one track mind, focusing on your happiness and Delgal’s, he wouldn’t really notice anyone else.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ tommy gets jealous | oneshot

♡ fandom; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003/2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; mentions of kidnapping and violence, don’t date people who want to slash you irl not a good foundation for a relationship

♡notes; I put on my big boy panties and wrote something other than a bulleted list!!

I just love a good “i trust you but i sure as fuck don’t trust anybody else” type jealously trope. Also some Tommy doing ASL!! We love a (selectively?) mute king.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

You were an oblivious person. Most of the time, anyways. You’d been totally shocked when Luda Mae didn’t let you leave the night you arrived at the Hewitt house, totally shocked when Charlie told you Thomas was obsessed with you, and more surprised still that Charlie had been right.

You weren’t stupid— you put two and two together that these folks were cannibals as soon as you saw the basement. You nearly talked Monty into letting you go, and you slipped your restraints a couple times before you were settled in. You’d done well in school and still could read a book in one sitting.

Maybe… socially inept was a better word, harsh as it sounded. It was only people that you had a such a hard time with. You trusted them, but you could almost never wrap your head around what they were thinking.

Like the customers that stayed too long . It happened a lot. Bikers and tourists and all sorts of folks would stop in when you were working in the convenience store, and usually more than once a day a man would stay leaned on the counter, chatting away until his buddies were about to leave him. Sometimes they’d be alone, and Luda would give you a break early and they’d go off looking all huffy.

It very rarely occurred to you that the men were trying to flirt. You didn’t think of yourself as someone that happened to- and treated all customers the same. Why would they think you wanted to bang em when all you did was smile? Being nice was part of your job.

Luda Mae payed no mind to the men or your conversations. If there’d been any cause for concern, she’d be able to quash it very easily. But she found it endearing, especially your confusion and apathy when they did get balls enough to be blunt . In her mind you were so devoted to Thomas that other men were just nuisances.

That’s why no one had mentioned it to Thomas. He rarely came up to help now that you were there to help Luda Mae, but today there was extra stock, and her joints had been aching from the weather. You were on register, Luda Mae relaxed in a rocker on the porch, and Tommy stalked the aisles and put out trinkets and canned food and all the other junk you sold. You were trying not to go distract him and stood leaned over the counter, doodling on some scrap paper between customers.

“Well hello darlin,” A man drawled, hands on his belt buckle. He was trying too hard to be a real Texan, but he wasn’t from up North like you. “You got any cigarettes back there?”

“Sure do! Let’s see… got Camels, Lucky Strike- I really like these ones, the Salems, they’re menthol-“

“You look too sweet to smoke. I’ll take the Camels,”

“Well, only do it on special occasions,” you shrugged, not paying much attention as Thomas stalked towards the front “Anything else?”

“Well. That depends.”

“On?”

“If you’re free or not tonight.”

You blinked, then furrowed your brow “You tryna ask me out?”

“Well I- oho shit!” The man laughed uncomfortably as he noticed Thomas right behind him “You scared me there big guy-“

He huffed and slunk behind the counter as the man nervously tried to get back on topic “Anyways… ahem…so about that date-?”

You huffed and out a hand on your hip “Well, depends?”

He perked up a bit “On what?”

“If you can beat my boyfriend in a fight.” On cue Thomas wrapped his arms around you from behind, growling as he hooked his chin on your head.

The man quickly turned tail and mumbled something about being out of practice, forgetting the cigarettes completely. You could feel Tommy relax and turned to let him pick you up and set you on the counter. Even then you weren’t eye to eye with the giant of a man…but it was closer, and you liked feeling tiny anyway.

“…hi baby.” You cooed and loosely wrapped your arms around his neck. He huffed and nuzzled you, as he often did as a form of reassurance. You giggled and pecked his mask “Annoying, right?”

He nodded and scowled, keeping his grip tight on your hips

“…what’s wrong?”

He hesitated but pulled back to sign ‘Mine. All mine. Right?’

You giggled again “Of course! All yours- always.”

He smiled softly- the sort of expression only you could coax out of him ‘Always’

[empty-blog-for-lurking]

#yes. yes all of this #she doesn’t talk at all about any friends she had. which could be because the memories hurt. however she doesn’t shy away from #talking about Alfor. so maybe she really was that sheltered. this is all new to her #and it creates a bit of a barrier between them and her. also she probably goes on the assumption that all of them know each other #pretty well. ​oblivious to the fact that this group formed not long before they arrived at the castle. might make her feel like an outsider

@ prev tags. THIS!!!

I think part of the reason Allura was distant towards the paladins was because of trauma and the princess status, but another deeper reason was the fact that she is an only child with possibly a sheltered life. Like my girl only knows how to diplomatic posh talk with adults and maybe small talk with other royal posh kids she probably only met once.

[spacedace]

Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

-

Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.

[moonlight-alexia]

daylight | k.c.c.

kyra cooney-cross x williamson!reader | 1.5k | you and kyra have been seeing each other for a little while but she doesn't know you're leah's sister and leah doesn't know about kyra

ˏˋ°•*⁀ my new daylight universe. i've been trying to get this one going for like six months now and finally had a breakthrough and got most of this series planned out! hope y'all enjoy it

‘You know, you kind of look like someone I know,’ Kyra was standing by the counter watching you put together a little flower arrangement for an order you had later in the day. 

Since Kyra joined Arsenal and moved to England she had come across your shop and couldn’t stop herself from frequenting quite often. Spending way too much just to have an excuse to keep coming back and seeing you. From the moment she stepped foot inside your shop she was enchanted by you. A pull inside her that she couldn’t ignore.

‘Oh really?’ You looked up at Kyra briefly, a small smile on your lips every time you laid your eyes on the girl in front of you. Kyra in the beginning was quite awkward and you could tell she didn’t really want or need to be buying as many flowers as she was, you could tell her excuses were just that. But you found it quite endearing and played into the little game.

After a few weeks of Kyra’s almost daily visits, you were well aware of her attraction towards you. You weren’t oblivious but you wanted to see if she would get the courage to actually ask you out or how many more weeks of pointless buying of flowers were you going to watch Kyra do. It ended up being quite a few.

‘Yeah, oddly familiar,’ You just chuckled and shook your head, focusing back on the flower arrangement in front of you, while Kyra kept trying to think of who she knew that you looked similar to.

‘How are you finding Arsenal? Settling in well?’ You changed the topic, you didn’t mind having Kyra’s eyes on you, watching you. But having her staring at you intently was a little unsettling, not like her normal gaze towards you.

You smiled, listening to Kyra talk about her work. Your sister would always bore you when you asked about her teammates, to the point you had to tell her you didn’t really care about each person’s skill set but how they were doing. By this point you’d met the majority of the team at Arsenal, you were friends with quite a few just by being Leah’s sister.

‘You should come to a match,’ Kyra whined and you smiled even more, reaching over to rest your hand on top of hers. You were honestly surprised she hadn’t seen you had a match yet, you liked supporting your sister and watching her play. Though since meeting Kyra you had stayed a bit more hidden at matches than you normally would, Leah telling you that some of the others were complaining that you hadn’t been around much after matches or accusing Leah of hiding you away from them.

It wasn’t completely intentional. Things with Kyra were going slow but steady and had been going quite well. You wanted her to know you for you and not as Leah’s younger sister. Also not wanting to ruin anything by telling her, though a part of you knew that the longer you waited the more complicated it might be. For now you were ignoring that part and just focusing on the girl in front of you.

Also your sister had a tendency to scare away people you were involved with. You didn’t want that to happen with Kyra, especially since Leah and Kyra were teammates. Which added another layer to this complex web you’d created. What if Kyra knew you were Leah’s sister, would she still want to see you? 

‘Hmm, maybe I could be convinced,’ You smirked, leaning over the counter slightly, your hand still on top of Kyra’s giving a little squeeze.

‘I think seeing me in my kit on the pitch would be convincing enough,’ Kyra smirked, she knew how you reacted when she had come straight from training to your apartment for dinner one night, still in her full training kit. Dinner was completely thrown to the side. Kyra imagining what you’d be like after you actually came to one of her matches. Though she obviously didn’t know you were Leah’s sister and that you’d already seen her play.

Leaning closer into you, Kyra closed the gap and connected your lips together. The kiss was anything but work friendly, luckily it was your own shop and you had closed and locked the door while you had your little lunch date with Kyra. You deepened the kiss, your hand cupping Kyra’s cheek while your other hand laced your fingers with hers, ‘Want to take this out the back?’ You asked, mumbling against her lips. 

Safe to say, Kyra definitely ‘convinced’ you and that following Sunday you were dressed in your Arsenal beanie and scarf, your sister's jersey underneath your puffer jacket. You weren’t supposed to be coming to this match, so Leah was definitely surprised to see you in the stands, but for Kyra you were able to move around your other commitments. Honestly, you just couldn’t resist Kyra’s pout and would do anything she asked you. 

You were in the same area as your mum, who was aware you were seeing Kyra and also kept it a secret from Leah having seen how protective Leah could be over you, but you weren’t so close to her and kept interactions as little as possible in case Kyra noticed. 

Both Kyra and Leah had seen you during warm ups, thankfully at different times so you gave them both a little wave and smile. Kyra’s eyes lingered over to you quite often, she already told you how cute you looked when you sent her a photo earlier, but seeing you in person was a different story. 

You and Kyra weren’t official in terms that you hadn’t talked about the label of being each others girlfriend or anything, but you both weren’t seeing anyone else, spent a lot of your time in each others apartments, going on dates all the time and the other week when someone had referred to you as friends she corrected them and called you her partner. You didn’t really know what it meant, you both danced around actually talking about your feelings but you were hers and she was yours.

‘You’re going to have to tell them both eventually,’ Your mum leaned over slightly. You always cursed how well your mum could read you, she could see how you were internally panicking on how today is going to turn out. At the end of the day you did this to yourself, and if worst happens you’d rather Kyra finding out you hadn’t told her you are Leah’s sister rather than Leah finding out you are seeing Kyra.

‘I know,’ You groaned slightly, running your hands over your face, ‘But everything’s just been so good lately. I don’t want to ruin it all,’ Your mum was always warning you that the longer you took the more complicated it would all get and she wasn’t wrong. The pit in your stomach wishing there was a way that you could back and admit everything from the beginning because it definitely never got easier or a more right time to admit what you weren’t telling.

‘They’ll be upset you didn’t say anything but you aren’t going to ruin anything with either of them,’ Your mum gave your shoulder a little reassuring squeeze, ‘Plus you know I’ll want to officially meet Kyra soon enough,’ You smiled and rolled your eyes at your mum. 

Even though you never played, you were still just as passionate as Leah was when it came to football. Your supportive passion could never be matched by anyone else, it was how you and Leah were so close despite the slight age gap between you and your older siblings, ‘I didn’t expect to see you here,’ Leah was the first to approach you after you did hide yourself away a little but Kyra was just being her goofy self annoying her fellow Aussies out on the pitch after the match.

‘Well surprise,’ Not trying to come up with an excuse as to why you suddenly were able to be at the match knowing Leah would see right through you, ‘Can’t I just randomly turn up to support my sister?’ Rolling your eyes you crossed your arms feigning annoyance towards your sister.

‘My bad. Forgot I wasn’t allowed to question what you do anymore,’ Leah dramatically held up her hands, the corner of her mouth turning up into a slight smile. You laughed out, when you were a teenager Leah was way too protective over you so you told her to get lost and stop pestering you about what you did and who you did it with, now she always brought it up when she was messing around with you. You were quite the dramatic teenager, Leah was glad you grew out of that phase, ‘Come on, everyone misses seeing you after a match. We just won, come celebrate with us,’ 

Leah practically dragged you down and over the barrier onto the pitch. No matter how much you tried protesting your older sister, she wasn’t taking no for an answer. It was good getting to see the girls again, you had avoided a few of them since you started seeing Kyra, and even when invited to their little outings some of them would have, you made up excuses to not go.

‘Have you met Kyra yet? I think you’d get on quite well,’ Even though Alessia was also a new signing you had obviously already met her with her and Leah playing for England together.

‘No she’s been avoiding me after matches. I haven’t had the chance to introduce them,’ Before you knew it Leah was dragging you over to where Kyra was pestering Steph.

‘Kyra,’ She smiled when she saw you but it was quickly replaced with confusion with you next to Leah, ‘Meet my sister,’

[dolicekiss]

Hey,

I love your writings.❤️Keep it up!

Could you please write a Gellert Grindelwald (Mads Mikkelsen) one-shot, where the reader is Newt‘s sister and an auror at Macusa. He has plotted for years to finally get her and while on an undercover mission, his followers kidnap her. She soon realizes how obsessed he is and try‘s to use those feelings against him. Her plan is to give in on his affection to earn his trust, but it goes further than she thought?(with smut,where he tries to babytrap her?)

♡: thank you so much also this is my first time writin about gellert grindelwald, i hope u like it

A beautiful butterfly

PAIRING: Gellert Grindelwald (mads mikkelsen) x auror!reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), kidnapping, power imbalance, obsessed gellert, young reader (age unspecified, gellert is 46), unprotected sex, body worshipping, teasing, baby trapping, breeding kink, praise, a little unhinged gellert, dubcon, kissing.

SYNOPSIS: Being Newt’s sister is prideful for you but it also comes at a high risk. Especially when you’re also an auror often going on undercover missions. All comes crashing down when you're kidnapped by none other than the brainwashed followers of the strongest wizard — Gellert Grindelwald. Realizing he's completely obsessed, you try to outsmart him but the consequences to that come with a heavy price to pay.

Wizards were strong, so were witches.

Being the sister of a renowned wizard and an auror working at MACUSA, you had your own reputation to uphold. Often going on undercover commissions and assignments for the congress you worked for.

Just like that, you were out on an undercover mission once more to bring back information regarding one of the most dangerous beasts — having escaped your brother’s suitcase once more.

You hadn't expected to be caught red handed rummaging through the little drawers, in hopes of finding some knowledge about the beast’s origin. Your wand stayed firm in your hand, fingers flicking through the pages of books.

Not a single person knew where the beast had gone to, hence the ministry sent you to look for him. You were the best at being a sneaky little spy, so when you were apprehended by a flock of dark wizards and witches, it left you flummoxed.

Your endeavor to flee proved to be futile when they somehow took your only protection from you, the wand. There was no point in fighting them. They overpowered you and you were in no mood to be turned into an orb cursed to roam the earth for all of eternity.

Or worse, a frog.

Your vision was concealed with a dark blindfold. There was no way you could see where they were talking you but you knew they used their teleportation to deliver you to whoever that commanded them. Confusion had clouded your mind — hoping that this captivity was based on a simple misunderstanding.

Your pleas fell upon deaf ears.

They didn't harm you, only telling you to keep your mouth shut and not make noise. There was no way you could tell where you were and when all the noise swirled into silence, your blindfold was pulled open.

In front of you stood Gellert Grindelwald, most probably the strongest dark wizard of all time.

You'd seen him and what he could do. He'd proved himself capable and strong when half of the aurors at MASUCA left and converted to his side. The tales of it were all known but you were never a part of it. How did he get his hands on you and why did he? When all of it happened, you were tending to other needs of the ministry.

If his intention was to also manipulate you into switching to his side, that wouldn't work at all. You were loyal, a firm believer in keeping humanity safe and oblivious to the magic that breathed beneath the earth’s core.

You analysed your surroundings.

The room was beautiful. High, beige colored walls. Spectacular carvings decorating the ceiling and the massive chandelier hanging from it gave away at the opulence of this room. The curtains were made of smooth georgette, keeping away the lovely moonlight from illuminating the room.

Candle holders were everywhere, on the drawers — to the vanity table. Your breath shuddered at just how breathtaking the room actually was.

“Do you like it?” He asked, staring at you with the same gaze with which you scanned the room.

You took a step back, calves coming in contact with the bed. “What?”

“The room. I got it decorated for you, do you like it?” You licked your lips in nervousness, staring at the man in confusion. Did he give all his followers such rooms, such beautiful rooms? Is that why they were this influenced into following him?

You blinked at him. “If you think by presenting me with such a glamorous looking room, I will give in to you then you are absolutely wrong. I have and will always be loyal to the Congress.”

Your voice was hard, tone stern as you stared at him with furrowed eyebrows. Gellert let out a small laugh, shaking his head at you then he closed some of the distance between the two of you by stepping forward. Your body reacted by pressing your calves deeper into the bed.

“I could never, my love. How dare I to win your love by such meaningless little presents?” You blinked, again. Dumbfounded by his choice of words.

The sparkle in his different colored eyes was glinting. “It is only to maks you happy. This, and all the other gifts I have prepared for you, my love.”

“Grindelwald, do you believe you can make me join you by manipulating me through your affections?” You asked, a finger pointing at him. Your tone was laced with pure venom. This was the enemy, not someone you could possibly have a love affair with.

And why was he even talking to you like he was madly in love with you? This made no sense to you whatsoever. Gellert stepped towards you, hands intertwined behind his back.

“It is no manipulation. You have captivated me ever since I saw you with Newt, and all the other aurors of the Congress.” His words were of pure deceive, you thought you knew that but you were oblivious to the raw obsession which had blossomed for you in Gellert’s heart when he'd laid his gaze upon you.

Gellert inhaled a deep breath, shutting his eyes shut when you bit on your lower lip in a moment of frustration. “I have searched everywhere for you, my butterfly. I put hold on my ambitious and goals to look for you and here I have you finally.”

From Gellert’s expression, he appeared entirely drawn and infatuated. This was a spell which you'd unknowingly put on him, one you didn't know how to take off him but as a loyal auror to the MACUSA, you could use this to your own advantage.

And so a cunning plan cooked in your mind.

“You mean to tell me you're in love with me?”

Gellert shook his head. “I'm gone far beyond that, to the point of no return. I mastered dark magic to a dangerous extent just to locate you.”

You felt your skin crawl at his words. This was something dark — something that could swallow you whole if not careful. Your gaze lingered over to his face, holding unwavering eye contact with him. “If I don't reciprocate these emotions, will you burn me like how you burned those other aurors?”

Your words a poisonous reminder of his past actions. Newt had told you how him and the aurors barely managed to survive Grindelwald’s dark, fire magic. It had almost managed to consume them all and you were apprehensive to meet the same fate.

Gellert’s eyes softened. Eyebrows dropping, akin to a puppy. “Rest assured, my beautiful butterfly. I could never inflict such harm upon you ever. You can take your sweet time.”

A smile had ceased his features.

Instead of responding to him, you sat down on the bed. Knees bunching up to your chest, in a hostile position. A sigh dropped from your shuddering lips and your eyes trailed up to his face.

“Will you keep me locked up in this room?”

Gellert’s blue eye twitched. “Absolutely not. I wish you to roam the perimeters of my fine establishment but, you mustn't escape and in order for that to happen, I will have to trust you.”

Your eyes dropped to the marbled floor. It reflected the yellow candlelight as you sent him a slow nod, suffocating the conversation right then and there. Begging him to release you would hardly work in your favor so you decided to play smart. Returning his affections until you'd win his trust was the route you chose for yourself.

But you didn't know it would end differently than what you'd anticipated.

— ♡ —

Gellert kept you locked in your room for days, only visiting when he brought you food or other basic necessities. You were beginning to miss the feel of your beautifully sculpted wand between your fingers albeit the awareness of never receiving it ever again tug at your heartstrings.

You couldn't tell how long it had been.

Surely had to be more than two weeks.

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts and you gave your consent. Gellert had respected your privacy, as obsessed and infatuated he was. He'd never dare to barge into your room without your permission but that didn't mean he would stay behind the closed doors for a long period of time.

An auror entered.

You knew that because it was the same auror which used to work under MACUSA at one point, the same auror which would bring you your meals when Gellert was not available to tend to you. You'd expected a tray of all sorts of edible flavoursome pleasantries decorated on a tray but the woman's hands were empty.

“He's waiting for you at the library, if you'd follow me.”

Your eyes widened in an elemnt of surprise.

Finally you were being let out and you couldn't contain the excitement within you. Still you tried to stay cool in front of the auror, nodding at her as you moved in pursuit of her. Through bright and moderate hallways — nothing could compete with the inside of your room and its walls.

A beautiful golden cage.

For his beautiful butterfly.

As you entered the library, your lips were agape. The view before you was the most beautiful ever. You'd expected a dull library, one you had back at your work place but this? This was completely captivating. A spectacular view of the sea greeted you through the large window. Gellert stood by the parapets, staring ahead.

Your heart beat picked up.

When he felt your presence, he was quick to turn around. A smile plastered on his face upon seeing you, silver locks neatly combed to the side. You slowly walked upto him, hesitation clear like crystal in your movements and Gellert couldn't wait for you to fully accept him.

You'd been obedient.

Ate your meals on time, listened to him, conversed with him and he could feel a sense of camaraderie had formed between the two though he ached for more. Friendship was not what he aimed with you. There were unnerving desires flogging within his core and he needed to set them free.

“Come here.”

You stood closer to him, hand on the glass railing. Your eyes ran across the potent waves of the sea crashing at the shore, and calming down. It was a repeated sight but you couldn't have enough of it.

“Its a beautiful sight, no?”

You nodded to him, focusing your attention on Gellert. “Yeah. It's breathtaking.”

“Nothing compares to you.” He so casually said and you wondered just how did you even manage to become the object of his affections and desire? It was hard to believe that he fell for you in a simple glance. Love at first sight coming from a dark wizard was of amusement.

Yet you didn't say anything about it.

“Gellert.” You called out, sharply taking in a breath. “Why me? I'm the sister of the man who seeks to destroy you. It is only natural for you to dislike me too.”

“We're wizards and witches, my butterfly. There is nothing natural about us.” He scoffed, shaking his head.

But he hadn't answered your question and he noticed the disarray on your face. Gellert’s hand lifted from the wood nailed into the tempered glass railing, reaching to cup the side of your face. Thumb settled over your chin in a gentle touch.

This was the first time in the two weeks you'd been here when he touched you.

His hands were cold, like he had no blood pumping through his veins. Your lips shuddered at the spark contrast of your warm skin against his cold blooded hand.

“You're kind.” He said, like it was the most beautiful thing ever about you. “You're so full of kindness and love for these animals, these filthy animals. Knowing you'll always be above them, be superior yet you protect them like they are your own.”

Your head tilted, bemused. “Don't you find them less than you? If you look down upon them, why did my kindness towards them intrigue you to the point of capturing me?”

Gellert’s eyes wandered. His other hand formed into a fist when he noticed how you gulped, the subtle movement of your throat sending him into a whirlpool. A turmoil of poorly contained desired and wanton exploding. The way your lips shuddered when he touched you. To you, he appeared calm and collected but on the inside Gellert was fighting his own demons.

“Because if you're so kind to love the muggles, you'd be kind enough to embrace me too.” The soft feeling of his gentle strokes over your cheek almost made you forget about everything.

The cunning plan. Winning his trust and escaping him was put on halt in that moment when Gellert stepped closer to you, face only an inch apart. His lips hovered above yours and you inhaled — warm breath mingling with his cold one.

He took your lips into a sweet kiss and you allowed him to, all a new step into the plan. To use his own feelings against him, find a way out and never look back. If you were to fight your way out of here, Gellert would end you with one swing of his wand. He'd mastered magic that was beyond your understanding even.

His other hand moved to hold your waist and you sighed into the kiss, tilting your head into giving him more access. Gellert’s tongue pried open your mouth for him, slipping into the warmth your cavern had to offer him. His tongue battled with yours but you'd already given up on winning, letting him consume you.

Before it could increase, evolve into something way past your comfort level, you retreated. Gellert’s hand ached to tighten around your waist but he held back, holding onto the tethered pieces of his self control.

Your chest rose up and down, the kiss having left you in a daze. You took a few steps backwards and then turned around, running out the library back to your room. Gellert not following you was a hint that he had finally begun to trust you.

You found yourself in the same room. Fingers trailing lines over your lips, a feeling best foreign to you spreading in your chest as well as stomach. You didn't know what was going on but there was only your freedom on your mind.

And the kiss.

The sweet kiss.

You were torn between following up with your plan and submitting to the sweet kiss. This was confusing and you dropped onto the bed, burying your face within your pillows.

— ♡ —

Days passed after the last encounter with him which included a kiss. He would come by, only for a few moments. Gellert would try to build conversations with you, in hopes that one day you might welcome him with open arms. You'd respond too, to slowly slither your way underneath the cloak of his trust. It wasn't such a difficult task because soon, Gellert had sent one of his followers with a dress for you.

The auror had placed the box on the bed and with the simple instructions to get ready and meet her outside, she left. You were baffled but still peeled open the nicely packed box and it revealed a beautiful dress.

A pale one, off shouldered with puffy sleeves and layers of fabric. You zipped yourself into it after a shower and then left the room, the woman leading you to a garden you didn't even know existed. Filled with magical beauty, you were in complete awe.

A table had been set. Decorated with all sorts of delicious looking pleasantries. The fairy lights illuminating the furniture was such an endearing sight. You walked further and found Gellert standing there and when he saw you, he extended his hand out for you.

You held onto it.

“God, you look absolutely breathtaking. I could devour you instead of my meal.” His comment caused the blood to rush to your cheeks. His thumb caressing the side of your hand as he lead you to the table.

After taking a seat at the table, Gellert also followed and sat across you. The dress made you appear nothing less than a beautiful fairy that had lost her way here. Grindelwald was completely enchanted by you — his hands and body aching to become one with you.

“I prepared this for you, for us, my butterfly.”

You nodded in acknowledgement.

Honestly no one had ever done this much for you. You had partners in the past but this? They could never reach Grindelwald’s level and it only worked to perplex you further.

You both started to eat.

“Do you like the food?”

You nodded. “It's very flavoursome. Thank you, Gellert.”

Everytime you said his name, he felt the chills in his bones. He often pondered late at night how you'd sound like when he's inside you, when he's completely buried deep within the warmth you had to offer. Gellert had appeared nothing less of a gentleman to you but only he knew of his deepest, most sickest desires for you.

Your voice was so soft.

An ache in him grew to hear you moan.

You both enjoyed your meal in silence and you reached over to grab a strawberry from the silver bowl, bringing it to your lips. You took a bite, relishing in its taste as a moan escaped you. Grindelwald was over the moon.

If these were the sounds you were supposed to make, his pants were already tightening.

After a moment, you two had finished eating and Gellert rose up from his seat. Sauntering towards you and holding his hand out for you, to hold.

You slipped your hand into his and stood up, walking in pursuit of him. The man lead you somewhere deep into the garden, a pathway made of stones that you carefully maneuvered your way on. Behind the bushes was concealed a bed — with see through pale curtains falling from its side. It had no roof over it, an unlimited view to the sparkling open sky.

“Gellert?” You asked, in burning anticipation.

He didn't listen to you, only pulled you along to the bed. He sat you down and then took a seat next to you, his hand still holding onto yours. “I've got something for you.”

He snapped his fingers and then multiple butterflies, in all sorts of colors, came flapping their wings. Your eyes enlarged and a smile automatically made its way to your features upon the sight. They were so beautiful and you loved how they moved their wings, a black butterfly with a holographic blue wings setting on your thigh.

You didn't touch it.

Only watched it.

“Gellert they're so gorgeous.” You whispered, impressed by this act of his. The butterflies had covered the area and you couldn't help bit try to capture a few, bridled by their beauty.

“Makes you want to capture them, doesn't it? How beautiful they are. You wish to keep them in a cage, only for you to look and touch.” Grindelwald had just given you and shown you a perfect example of your own situation and how he felt for you.

But you were a human.

A butterfly was a — butterfly.

Yet you couldn't help the guilt from spreading.

You stared at him, as the butterfly flapped its wings in front of you both. Gellert leaned forward, once again grasping your lips with his own. This time he had no intention of letting you leave.

His hands fell down to your waist, caressing it through the fabric. Lips wrapping around your lower lip, sucking on it like it could produce nectar at any given moment. Your back arched into the kiss and he immediately took that as you wanting more.

Gellert’s hands flew to the zipper of your dress, tugging it down. His fingers caressing along your spine in the process and your bated breath mingled with his. His tongue swirled around yours and when the dress dropped down to your waist, you gasped.

Your breasts were exposed and Gellert broke the kiss to admire them. He looked at you and you fought the urge to allow him — knowing that this was going too far into the plan you'd cooked up in your head. These were the consequences to your own actions.

“Gellert, please wait.” You breathlessly said.

He stopped. “Don't stop me now. I have waited years to have you.”

Before you could oppose, Gellert had already taken your breasts into his hand. Fondling the fat – playing with it. His fingers pinched and tugged and your lips released soft little whimpers. His hands were cold as ice and a hiss left you.

He took one erect nipple into his mouth as he undid the black bow at his tuxedo, letting it fall apart. Gellert sucked while toying with the other one and panic flooded in. You couldn't possibly let him go further with his, knowing that it wasn't your plan to do so but denying him right now could lead to suspicion.

As you tried to think of ways to make him stop, the desire burning in your core soon sheened your brain. Your hands hesitantly reached to tangle in his hair and feeling that response made Gellert act out more.

A form of consent, he took it as.

But in reality you couldn't do anything other than submit to the pleasure.

“You've got such a beautiful body.” He commented, hands dropping from your breasts and cupping your waist. His hands caressed your skin like it was a rare gem found among coal — only for the most fortunate ones. Your spine was erect and then Gellert pulled back.

His hands pushing your body down and you allowed him to, having no escape. The cold air mixed with his icy touch only worked as his allure. Gellert rid you of the dress, unveiling your glorious frame to his desperate gaze and he sharply breathed.

Chest rising up and down.

“Undress me, butterfly.” You swallowed, nervous at his command of your indulgence as well.

Your arms extended, fingertips pushing off the black coat off him. Gellert noticed the tremor in your hands and he couldn't care anymore. He'd waited years for this moment, to finally get his hands on you. It was cruel of you to expect more wait from him.

Your fingers undid the buttons of his white shirt and pried it open, exposing his broad chest. Gellert took one of your hands into his, bringing it upto his lips to deliver a firm kiss to it. Your heart beat fastened at that action.

Hands tugging at the buckle of his pants, you undid it and then tossed the belt somewhere in the garden. Gellert’s fingers caressed along your thigh, gently tapping at the exposed skin, gaze hungry and full of lust. Your breath hitched when he opened you to him, exposing your cunt.

You felt deeply ashamed of the saturation that had occured in your cunt.

You were an auror, a loyal auror to the Congress but here you were, involved in such sin with the dark wizard. The one who'd killed many of your colleagues and wished to change the order of the world.

Gellert slipped his own pants off along with his briefs. You were two naked bodies about to entangle and the idea terrified you. How could you ever possibly go back from this? Bring yourself to forget about this when its done?

You braced yourself in the name of a small sacrifice for an eternity of freedom.

Gellert’s hand found its way between your thighs and you let out a broken breath. His fingers trailing over your cunt — collecting your arousal. He was pleased with what he saw.

You were such a gorgeous girl. Laying before him with the moonlight illuminating your each feature, each flaw, all the beauty spots you had. Your hair like the waves of the sea, sprawled across the bed akin to vines that had trapped Gellert in their tight embrace. The constant twitching of your lips, the way heat prickled your cheeks and turned them beetroot. Gentle strokes of red paint over your canvas like skin.

He leaned forward to occupy your lips in a rough kiss.

He was a fucking mess and the grip on his self control was beginning to become lose.

Gellert’s fingers were coated in your slick and then he entered your pussy, swallowing the whimper which escaped you. His finger alone filled you and when you'd grown used to it, he added another one all while consuming your tongue.

You tilted your head to the side, your arms moving to wrap around his nape. Gellert fucked his fingers into your pussy, loving how tight you were. He could only imagine how delirious he would feel once he was inside your sweet cunt.

“G-Gellert.” You whimpered into the kiss, trying to break apart. “I can't breathe, Gellert.”

He didn't care. You could tell the man was losing any ounce of self control he once possessed, his lips pressing up against yours in a tight kiss. Spit coating your swollen lips and you gasped, to inhale, only for him to push his tongue inside your mouth. Roaming the warmness of it, he was kissing you feverishly.

His fingers plunged in and out of you and your back arched off the sheets. Your cunt throbbing due to the sensation being delivered to it. He curved his fingers and pushed into the gummy spot — a shriek breaking through you in the lip lock.

Gellert broke the kiss to breath.

As he stared down at you, he couldn't help but grow painfully harder and you swallowed when you caught glimpse of that. You could practically feel his cock against your knee and you sighed at the feeling.

“One kiss and you look like you'll pass out at any given moment.” He whispered, loving the way your lips puckered up and redenned over s single kiss.

A single, vigorous kiss of raw passion and infatuation.

“That wasn't a kiss.” You breathed, touching your lips with your fingers. “I-It felt like you were going to eat me at any second.”

Gellert chuckled at your words. He was glad you could feel his love for you through his actions. He was conscious about not possessing enough affection for you to acknowledge his love but he was pleased that you caught onto it.

His fingers worked their way, to prepare you and your arms flew back to his nape. Breath released in shattered little whines as he now added another form of pleasure by massaging your clit. The nerves being stimulated sent you to a different world — back rising from the mattress and lips falling apart.

Gellert felt you tighten.

“Going to cum, sweet girl?” You nodded at him, your thighs shivering.

Before you could chase after your release, he stopped. You whined in frustration, staring at him through hooded eyes. “W-Why?”

After asking him that, you wanted a void to open up and swallow you. You were not on his team, not a part of him, how could you beg for his touch? A release from a man like him? It all tore you apart and confused you.

“You're going to cum with me. On my cock, my beautiful butterfly.” He whispered, the gleam in his blue eye giving away his desire.

You shuddered when he pressed the fat head of his cock against your clit and you whimpered at the contact. Gellert licked his lips, dragging his head down and soon entering you.

The moment he did, you threw your arms around him. His hips pushed forward and his cock fully sunk into you. Your back arched when you felt him glide against your walls — your sinful arousal helping him in the process of it. Gellert couldn't help he was finally one with you.

Body entangled with yours.

Gellert brought his hands to cup your face and stared down at you, face at a close proximity with yours. He stared in your eyes, gaze flickering between your lips. “You okay?”

You nodded. The stretct of his cock had you delirious and you gasped when he moved inside you. Pulling his cock out only to slide it back inside. A constant rhythm of suppressed desires. “It'll feel good, my butterfly. I'll make sure that I please you first. I'm a selfish man but not when it comes to the pleasures of the woman I love.”

He leaned forward to kiss you and you, to your own shock, gave in. Letting him to kiss you like his life depended on it while the pace of his thrusts picked up. Gellert’s hands fell from your face, falling down to grip the curves your body you had to offer. Hands trailing up and down.

He felt as though he was in the presence of a goddess.

Tilting his head, he kissed you with profound fervour, as if to embed you with his taste. Gellert’s tongue occupied your mouth, teeth crashing with teeth. The kiss grew intense and so did the movement of his hips as he drove his cock into you. Thrusting and then you cried out in the moan when he fucked into you a little deeper.

He grinned.

He'd found that spot of sensitivity.

He broke the kiss to witness you all before him. A broken beauty that was finally within his grasp and there was no way he was ever going to let you go. He couldn't believe you'd come to him this easily, this willingly and all of it felt like a dream come true.

Gellert stared at you, admiring you.

“You're so beautiful, it makes me want to give you a child.”

Your eyes widened at his words. In a fit, you attempted to push him off you but Gellert was so blinded by his delusions, he only saw it as your excitement to build with a family with him. His demeanor changed — becoming darker as his hands gripped you by your hips, driving himself into you.

Your little hands tried to reach for him, leaving minor scratches at his shoulders. Gellert was completely far gone, there was no stopping him at all.

“G-Gellert, no.” You managed to stutter out through moans and whimpers.

He ignored it, thinking it to be an imagination.

You were regretting everything. You shouldn't have went ahead with this stupid plan. If you'd shown resistance from the beginning, none of this would've happened. Gellert wouldn't have thought of you to be this pliant and maybe he wouldn't have done this.

A big maybe.

The man was sick. He was going to have you one way another. You being pliant only made things easier for him and upon yourself.

Gellert’s grip tightened as he delivered harsh strokes. With utter determination to get you pregnant. If you were witu child, his child, you wouldn't possibly think of leaving him. Things would be different and everything would fall in his favor.

Your cunt clenched, still on edge from before and he hissed. “No, sweet girl. You will not cum until I am close. We will cum together and I will give you my child, a symbol of our love.”

Tears fell down.

Whether as seeds of your resistance or your pleasure. Unbeknownst to you and Gellert, he felt himself come closer to you.

But then he stalled, picking your leg up and placing it over his shoulder. His hands held your pelvis and his thumbs dug into your skin as his thrusts grew rougher, more firm. You sobbed, stomach tightening and reflexing whenever he slid across your walls.

Gellert groaned. Your pussy gripping his walls, not letting go. A greedy cunt you possessed and Gellert couldn't wait to fill it to the brim with his seed.

“Wish I'd find you sooner.” He grunted, “we would have a child by now but worry not my butterfly, it isn't too late. Is it?”

He was actually expecting you to answer when you were on the brink of falling apart. The irony of him.

“Is.” Gellert thrusted, fucking deeply into you with vigor. “It?”

You shook your head. “N-No. Never t-too late Gellert.”

He nodded his head in satisfaction, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. He felt his balls throb, and you felt his cock twitch inside you. Gellert was close and he smiled at you, silver strands of hair hovering over his sweaty forehead. “Ready, yeah? Ready, my butterfly?”

He was breathless.

Panting like the same beast that you were supposed to find.

You nodded, desperately. Cheeks blooming a red hue and tears wetting them. Gellert’s thrusts slowed down, as he felt his load seep into your cunt. He filled you to the brim, balls hot and throbbing to produce more. You also unraveled underneath him, eyes rolling back to your skull and chest heaving up. Chills danced across your spine as the blood rushed through your veind. Your whines echoing in the garden in contrast to his animalistic groans.

Gellert twitched, feeling how painfully tight your sweet cunt had gotten around him yet he could only find pleasure in it. Enjoying in the vice like grip. Your greedy pussy sucked him in, drinking each drop of his load, milking him dry.

“Yes. Yes, my love. Take my cock in your cunt like that, milk it fuckin’ dry. You'll make me a father, won't you, my sweet girl?”

There was no point in resisting him. You nodded your head as his hand reached down to cup your cheek, lovingly caressing it. You subconsciously leaned into his touch, an insatiable ache spreading in your chest for it.

When he'd filled you enough, Gellert pulled out and watched as his load dripped out of your gaping hole. His gaze lingering upto you and loving how fucked out you seem. Your arm was over your face, in a shameful attempt to veil it and Gellert reached for it, moving it aside.

“Don't hide yourself from me. You belong to me and I belong to you. There is nothing that should be concealed within us.” He laid next to you, pulling you into him. The hair on his chest slightly prickling against your skin.

You couldn't believe what you'd just done and committed to.

That too with Gellert.

Fucking Gellert Grindelwald.

“Our child will be the strongest wizard or witch ever. I'll see to it.” Gellert pressed a kiss to your head, hiding his face in your neck. The butterflies had disappeared now, the fairy lights dimming on their own.

Darkness consumed the area.

And you too lost yourself in Gellert’s warm embrace. Forever torn between your loyalty as an auror to MACUSA or the ache to be with Gellert.

[alexiroflife]

‘don’t ignore me’

“Across the Earth” Part 1: satoru gojo x reader

part 2 | part 3

Synopsis: you travel to NYC for spring break completely oblivious of satoru’s plan to follow you there

to sum it up: satoru does not take being avoided by you very well

WC: 12,731

The late afternoon glow of the setting sun milks the empty classroom through the row of glass windows touching the floor up to the ceiling. Most classes for the day have ended, and students scatter about the campus in search of food, study spaces, and each other’s company. It is no later than five pm, two days out from the university's suspension for spring break. 

The chaotic atmosphere of the large campus is finally subsiding after a month’s long hectic craze of last minute assessments and projects as people prepare for their much needed vacation from strenuous academics.  

Satoru Gojo and his best friends lounge peacefully inside their empty philosophy classroom, soaking in the rich rays of orange sun. A comfortable silence has settled over the group as Suguru works to finish an essay and Shoko toys with her lighter, flicking it open and closed repeatedly as she watches the small flame ignite and dwindle in her palm. 

Satoru, oddly quiet, has been tapping away at his phone, hunched over the back of a chair so that he is facing his friends who sit properly before him at desks. The three pay each other no mind, wrapped into their own dazes, when Satoru breaks the stillness and thrusts his phone into their faces.

The two stop, snapping up from their trances instantly, the glow of Satoru’s phone screen disrupting their concentration. Satoru says nothing, waving his phone back and forth tauntingly in order to keep their, what he assumes will be, short-lived attention.

They lean forward to examine what the device has to display and scrunch their noses as their eyes dart over words and pictures that stand out to them in clarification of what Satoru has done. 

Email confirmation. Seven day stay. Hamptons, New York, USA. 

Suguru looks up first, confusion and distrust swimming in his hazel eyes. Shoko puts her lighter down and takes Satoru’s phone from his hand gently next to peer down at the images of the extravagant, luxurious villa plastered all over Satoru’s phone with her own eyes. 

Satoru taps the back of his chair eagerly, eyes swapping between the brunette and the ravenette with an enthusiastic smile. “So? What do you think? You guys excited or what?”

Suguru crosses his arms atop his desk, leaning forward with eyes slim with suspicion as he tries to process what he has just seen. He places his pencil down next to his unfinished paper with the understanding that inquiring about whatever his best friend is planning will take a good chunk of time out of his work hour.

 “Satoru…” he begins tiredly, searching the snowy haired man’s jubilant expression for whatever true intentions lay beneath it, for there was always a reason why Satoru did the things he did. This applied especially to when his scheming led to greater absurdity, his actions as loud and ridiculous as the reasons he executed them. “Why did you rent out a villa in the Hamptons?”

Satoru shrugs. “The real question here, Suguru, is why not?” 

Shoko swipes her finger over the plethora of pictures Satoru’s email confirmation has to offer, brows jumping with subtle interest with each snapshot. “You want to go… to America?” she poses softly in a mumble, eyes glued to the phone.

“Ah, no. Correction: we are going to America! As a group!” Satoru exclaimed, leaning back with outstretched arms. “For spring break! Aren’t you guys excited?” 

Shoko finally looks up again, meeting Satoru’s eyes blankly, while Suguru rubs his forehead in exasperation. “And why would we be doing that?” 

“Well, because the first class round trip tickets are booked, and so is our stay, which you’re looking at right now,” the blue eyed man explains as though telling his friends two days before break that he paid for their expenses to travel across the world is completely justified and, far worse, normal. He leans over to point at the dates listed below the email confirmation on his phone, guiding his friends’ eyes to his finger. “See? Our stay starts Saturday, so we have to leave tomorrow.”

Suguru’s lips part in shock, eyes widening. “Wh- tomorrow?”

“It’s a twelve hour flight and we’ll be jet-lagged. Gotta plan ahead.”

The black haired man thinks he can just about wring out Satoru’s neck when that sentence falls from his mouth, for everything he is suddenly presenting is hardly something that has been planned ahead. 

Shoko looks over to Suguru to see what he is thinking and finds the agitation mixed with sheer awe at Satoru’s audacity will likely lead into yet another argument between the two that she is forced to witness from nearby. 

“Satoru, please tell me you’re joking,” Suguru scoffs. “We can’t just up and hop on a plane to America tomorrow- we have class, and none of us are packed for a week’s trip in a completely different country,” he reasons. “And America? Why the hell would you want to go there of all places?”

“Yeah, why not the beach?” Shoko chimes in monotonously, handing over Satoru’s phone to its owner. “There’s so many other options outside of the country. Like Bali, Greece, the Bahamas-”

“Or staying home and not springing a full trip out of nowhere onto your friends a day in advance?” Suguru interjects.

Satoru takes his phone back and pouts. “The Hamptons is on a beach, you guys. Didn’t you see the pictures? Our villa is like two seconds from the water,” he says. “Besides, who’s never wanted to go to the U.S.? Don’t you think it’ll be fun?”

“No, I don’t,” Suguru deadpans. “The Hamptons is in New York, Satoru. Don’t you know what New York is like? It’s disgusting.”

“How would you know? It’s not like you’ve ever been,” Satoru pokes out his tongue. “And what you’re thinking of is New York City. Where we’re staying is two hours away,” Satoru corrects. “It’s perfect. We can spend most of our time lounging in our big house and on the beach, and whenever we feel like it, we can drive down to the city to explore! It’ll be good to get a change of pace for us to embrace tourism.”

“I’m not going into that city,” Suguru frowns, and Satoru sighs loudly.

“Don’t be so reclusive, Suguru. You may like it.”

“I won’t.”

“Have a little faith!” Satoru groans, eyes peering dramatically over the frames of his round glasses. “We’re juniors. We shouldn’t just sit around at home all break doing nothing.”

“That’s not the point, Satoru.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you don’t like America,” Satoru waves his hand. “But you’ll get over it once you actually get there.”

“Do you think they’ll be friendly?” Shoko asks, lifting her chin in thought. It’s clear that she is already mentally preparing to indulge Satoru by going on this trip, for she had nothing better to do than to spend it away with her friends. After all, there are worse fates than shacking up in an outrageously expensive villa in the states. 

“Who, Americans or New Yorkers?” Satoru questions. “Either way, no, not at all,” he concludes, answering his own question. “But it’ll still be fun!”

Shoko shrugs, leaning back into her chair and propping her feet atop her desk. “As long as there’s water and food, I’m set.”

Satoru grins. “See? Look at that, Suguru, Shoko’s on board. So stop complaining and just go with the flow.”

Suguru clenches his jaw, astonished by the things he is hearing. He does not understand it. Not one bit. Satoru, though constantly flaunting his privilege to travel around, has never expressed direct interest in going to America. While he has toyed with the idea playfully in the past, Suguru had never taken his comments seriously because, to be perfectly frank, who would?

He knows something was up by the glint in Satoru’s eyes alone. Suguru knows his best friend very well, like the back of his hand, and knows entirely too well when there is an alternate angle to his seemingly random madness. After all, Suguru always found himself directly in the center of his spontaneous proposals. 

Therefore, when Suguru’s glare on Satoru hardens as if he is trying to physically see past his thick skull and into his mind’s contents, and Satoru stares back with a frozen smile, he knows that his gut instinct is correct. “What are you up to?” the hazel eyed man asks, furrowing his brows. 

Satoru’s smile stretches but does not quite reach his eyes. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking,” he replies coolly. “I simply want to treat my friends to a nice vacation. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes, it is.”

The albino slumps, rolling his chin over the rim of his seat grumpily. “You think so little of me, Suguru.”

“If it makes you feel better, I wouldn’t if I didn’t know you so well.”

Satoru’s bottom lip juts out and brows angle as he ponders the comment. “I’m not sure I know how to respond to that one.”

“Just cut the bullshit, okay?” Geto shifts in his seat, raising a brow at his sulking buffoon of a friend. “You’ve always got a reason for doing something, and this is no exception. So spill.”

Gojo’s eyes wander beneath his dim lenses, bouncing over every object of the room as his playfulness diminishes with Suguru’s accusation. “God, when did you get that stick shoved up your ass?”

“Since I’m twenty-one with a future career to think about. And so are you,” Suguru bites. “Stop stalling. Out with it.”

Satoru exhales again, closing his eyes. “I don’t know what to tell you. I hate to disappoint, but I’m only doing this out of the kindness of my heart and my hunger for exploration. You should be ashamed, throwing around these accusations and insinuating that there’s something more I want other than to have a once in a lifetime experience with the people I hold dearest to my heart-”

“You think, maybe, this has something to do with (Y/n) mentioning that she was going to New York for spring break the other day?” Shoko jumps in, her words droning on as if she were bored and her attention now elsewhere on her own phone, but her presented notion striking realization and dismay in the boys beside her.

Suguru’s eye twitches as everything pieces together in his mind. It was you. How hadn’t he understood sooner?

Satoru had taken a particular interest in you ever since freshman year orientation. 

While he, Shoko, and Suguru entered university having known each other all throughout high school, you were the new addition into their lives that Satoru had been rather insistent upon acquiring. 

It started with the freshman presentation in the auditorium. You happened to sit next to Suguru at the end of the row while Satoru sat on his other side and Shoko on his. You caught the blue eyed man’s eye immediately without even having to speak. But when you did, it was not to him but to Geto, leaning over and asking quietly if he knew where one of the dorm rooms was located, for you had yet to adjust to the size of the campus.

Satoru watched intensely out of the corner of his eye as Geto explained to you that he lived in the same building and would gladly show you around after the presentation. You thanked him kindly, a sweet smile rising to your face to match the charm in your light tone. Satoru nudged his friend harshly in the side when you turned away, ignoring the glare he tossed into his direction and leaning to whisper that he thought you were hot. 

Geto was quick to shove him away and hiss a warning, for he didn’t want Satoru scaring you off just after he made your acquaintance. Nevertheless, Satoru was determined from then on to learn who you were. And learned, he had.

You were attending University to study art and history, your hometown about five hours away from the campus by car. You were an only child, but came from an incredibly academically pressured environment. You were an honors student, here on scholarship, and you were so very talented. Your parents had wanted you to pursue something more practical, something that would show for the hours of mathematics and science practices that had been forced onto you while you were in high school, but the strenuous impact of high expectations and terribly little breathing room had pushed you into a different direction. 

You adored learning. You had a skill for it. You liked understanding the lens through which history has been told, how artists have come to detail the past, how history takes a hand in not only your daily society but the way in which daily society remembers it through art. You wanted to travel, to create, to fill your head with knowledge of past and present worlds, and though you could have been anything, this school and this path was what you chose. 

Your parents, of course, had not approved, so you were forced to work for your position at the university because they refused to fund you financially. You applied to numerous scholarship applications until you were accepted by over three, wrote hundreds of drafted college essays that eventually crafted your best piece of writing yet, and worked two jobs during school and the summer whilst simultaneously maintaining straight As. You worked damn hard, and all of that work had led you to where you were today.

You had only mentioned about a quarter of that information to the friend group as they led you to the co-ed dorms that they coincidentally all resided in and asked you questions to get to know you, but Satoru had learned the rest over the months and years. 

Despite Suguru’s warning for Satoru to back off, he did just the opposite and crowded your space as the four of you walked to the dorms after orientation. He was chatty, buzzing with an aura of privilege that you just could not seem to acclimate yourself to, at least not at first. Even so, Satoru was quick to welcome you into the group, inviting you to lunches and over to his shared room with Suguru within the span of barely two days. You were overwhelmed, to say the least, but grateful to have made friends so quickly. 

Satoru found himself intruding into your life just as he did with anyone else. No matter where you went, he had always found a way to turn up unexpectedly. Sometimes, he was alone, and other times, he was with Suguru or Shoko or both. 

As time went by, Satoru knew that he had gotten on your nerves the more comfortable you became. Gojo had blinked, and you went from a timid, kind stranger to the loud, bubbly, brazen woman you are today, who told him to leave you alone when you were trying to study and he was buzzing around your room like a nagging fly, and man, did he adore it. He adored your attention, whether it was positive or negative. He adored how your reactions to his lack of personal space proved that you were acutely aware of his presence, of his space, of his body near yours. He adored how, though you considered yourself to be friends with all three of them, he remained the only one that you would constantly bicker back and forth with when he did something to agitate you. 

He adored everything about his interactions with you, for half the time they were the only thing motivating him to trudge out of bed and take on the day.

You, on the other hand, had very different opinions of Satoru Gojo. The first time he spoke to you, he reeked of privilege and presented himself as a position in such subconsciously. He was the stark opposite of you, having been handed a place in school, a legacy, an estate, and money that could last him, his children, his children’s children, and so on, for centuries to come. He was in a clear position of power, holding his head high and strutting about campus as if he owned the place. 

Your first impression of him was that he was an arrogant, pompous brat.

As you got to know him, Suguru, and Shoko better, however, your disinterest in him faltered and you truly did begin to view him as a friend and as someone you loved spending time with. Though he was still spoiled as all hell, he was funny, he was intelligent, he was smart, and he was hardworking when he wanted to be. He wasn’t a bad guy at all though he was preposterously clingy and bothersome, but in an endearing, playful kind of way.

Nevertheless, Satoru Gojo would always be someone who viewed himself as above you. Someone who toyed with you for fun, who said and did things solely to get a rise out of you, who flirted with practically the entire population of girls on the campus, and who found it funny when professors berated him because they were just too “uptight.” Satoru was a brat, through and through, and you knew that he’d only hover around you if it served well for his entertainment. 

This fact hadn’t bothered you before because you thought you understood the dynamic that Satoru had built with you and with many others, but when you started feeling pangs in your chest when he grinned at you or envy bubbling in your gut when another girl approached him to ask for his number, your stomach sank with fear because you knew that your feelings were shifting against your better judgment. 

Consequently, you began distancing yourself from Satoru as best as you possibly could. Your texts went from all caps to lowercase as your tone dried, you stopped by his apartment with Suguru less throughout the week, and when he tracked you down, throwing an arm around you and asking what you were doing for the night, you would tell him you were busy studying with people who didn’t exist. 

It hurt you to behave in such a way, for you could tell that Suguru and Shoko were beginning to notice not only your shift in demeanor, but Satoru’s obsessive panic over why you were talking to him less. You tried to keep your friendships with the two separate from your feelings for Gojo, but the task proved quite impossible due to how attached the three of them were to each other. No matter how far you tried to pull away subtly, Satoru was there. Everywhere. 

This is what led you to decide that a trip out of the country would do you some good. You had always wanted to go abroad and your professor had presented an opportunity to you in New York to do research with a colleague on a selection of artifacts presented in the MET gallery. You scraped up the money for a ticket and an AirBnB in SoHo, along with the generous help of your university’s study abroad funding, and set the date. You had mentioned that you were going away to Shoko a few nights ago over the phone, but were unaware that your voice was on speaker as Shoko got ready for the bar with Suguru and Satoru catching wind of your brief conversation in the background. 

Gojo must have seen the opportunity to catch up with you, and snatched it.

Suguru groans, rubbing his hands over his face as he takes it all in. The only reason Satoru is so set on this trip is because he will be hijacking yours.

Satoru rolls his eyes, sitting back up and crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest, displeased with the general reaction to Shoko’s observation. “Like it’s a crime to be in the same place as her for spring break. That could be purely coincidental,” he tsks, casting his gaze to the ceiling.

“Satoru, oh my god,” Suguru grumbles.

“What?! It’s not a big deal! We’ll be two hours away from her and we can hypothetically visit her in the city if we decide to one day.”

“Are you seriously staking this entire trip on the chance of seeing (Y/n)? Satoru, I’m pretty sure she’s not staying home for a reason.”

“Duh, because she has a research thing.”

“No- I mean, she’s trying to get some space,” he urges. “From us.”

The notion does not sit well in Satoru’s chest, so he decides to ignore it. “Impossible. She loves us.”

“I don’t doubt that, but I also can tell that she’s been distant and wants a break. A break… far away,” Suguru emphasizes the last few words with earnest. “Come on, you had to have noticed too.”

Had he noticed? 

It’s all Satoru can think about, day in and day out. He looks at your text messages, reading back over your loud responses from months ago that have resorted to short words with periods, and at times nothing at all. He wonders why you don’t visit him often anymore, why you blow him off every single time he tries to hang out, and his heart hurts at the thoughts.

He doesn’t know what he has done wrong or if he has upset you in any way. For a moment, he thought it was a mutual distance that you were putting between all three of you, but the night you had called Shoko telling her about your trip and not him really put things into perspective. You were avoiding him. Not Suguru, not Shoko, but him, and he has no way of knowing why or how he could fix it. 

He misses you, and he’s not ready for you to decide that you want nothing to do with him anymore, so he’s following you, chasing after the chance that perhaps there is something he can do to make you laugh with him, smile at him, whack the back of his head again like you used to. 

“I don’t know, Suguru… maybe it’s you she’s trying to distance herself from,” Satoru hisses through his teeth, purposely deflecting blame from him as a coping mechanism. “I mean, after all, you do get in a crabby mood after certain classes. You probably said something mean to her one day and didn’t realize.”

“Shut up, you idiot, we both know that didn’t happen,” Suguru denies confidently, for he knows exactly why you have been stepping away. 

He has seen it in your eyes when you look at Satoru, the way you unintentionally cast annoyed glances Suguru and Shoko’s way when the four of you are out and Gojo is stopped by an enamored pretty girl, looking to drag him home with her. 

He sees the love all too well, in the both of you. He and Shoko both do, but they can not for the life of them understand how the two of you have been so blind to it. If you had opened your eyes for one second to see the reason why Satoru would wake up every morning to text you random, insignificant thoughts or followed you around like a lost puppy, you wouldn’t have been distancing yourself the way you are now. 

Nevertheless, Suguru supposes he understands. Satoru can be a lot to handle, and when you are trying to look up at him from the bottom of the pedestal that the world has placed him upon, it is terribly difficult to meet him eye level and see the truth in his gaze. 

“You need to be honest with yourself,” the black haired man proceeds. “And you can’t just intrude on (Y/n)’s privacy because you want to. It’s not fair to her.”

“What do you know about what she wants,” Satoru mumbles bitterly under his breath, turning to look outside the window in hopes of the scenery outdoors drifting him away from this enclosed conversation. 

Suguru shakes his head to himself, watching as Suguru pouts. “She’s not just your friend. She’s a friend to all of us,” he says, voice growing softer as he knows this is a sensitive topic. “Yes, it’s sad that we don’t see her as much anymore, but you have to respect her wishes. We shouldn’t go on this trip. Not if it’s to see her.”

Satoru is stubborn. Incredibly stubborn. He was raised receiving everything he asked for and more, therefore, he did not understand the concept of not doing something if he wanted to do it. And of course, when it comes to you, Satoru is willing to challenge all barriers in order to get to you. 

So he shakes his head in retort and allows a smile to return to his face. “Even if I were bringing us to America for her, which I’m not, the trip is already fully booked and paid for,” he grins, and Suguru feels the color drain from his face. Shoko chuckles quietly to herself in amusement, all too familiar with the shenanigans that Satoru pulls. Only she finds it far funnier and less agitating than Suguru. “So either way, we’re going. No ifs, ands, or buts. And as a matter of fact, I'm feeling extra touristy this year. I say we hit the MET while we’re in New York too. You know what they say… when in Rome,” Satoru nods, entirely too satisfied with himself. 

Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose, reluctantly accepting his fate. “I hate you.”

“Tell me about it,” the white haired man smirks.

“Even so,” Suguru starts, picking up his pencil once more in a half-attempt to conclude his closing paragraph. “We still have class tomorrow. Don’t we, Shoko?”

The said brunette hums. “True, but we’re not really going, are we? It’s the last day before break. No one will be there.”

Satoru stands abruptly, rekindled pride bursting in his chest. “Exactly. You’re gonna have to skip class just this once, Suguru. We’ve got a flight to catch,” he grins and Suguru grips his pencil so hard it almost snaps.

_______________________________

You huff as you slam your suitcase onto the hard floor of your temporary residence for the next week. The door shuts gently behind you, and you are finally gifted your first moments of isolated peace within your room. You step around your bag, exploring the space excitedly. You’re exhausted from your flight, more exhausted than you believed a person could be, but the spark of thrill buzzing in your body from making it overseas after a long journey is fresh in your mind. 

The space is far bigger than you thought after having been told of horror stories about New York’s cramped style of living. You have a cute kitchen that connects directly to your living space, which leads to a small balcony that overlooks the bustling streets and crowded stores of SoHo, New York. You see the corner that rounds to your bedroom and bathroom with a full shower, but rush to the balcony first. You throw the door open and step out, the muffled sounds of the city instantly hitting your ears with crisp clarity. You are seven floors up, looking down with wide eyes and a large smile, taking in the smoggy air and rows of brick buildings. You think to yourself that it is absolutely perfect. 

And what is best of all is that there is no Satoru in sight, no reminder of the heavy weight that weighs on your chest each time he is near, no image of his perfect face and haunting blue eyes, or that messy hair white as a cloud, or those glossy lips that always curl into a sinister smile. 

No, none of that here. You are free of him, of this burden of love for the next week, and you feel you can finally breathe. 

You settle in, unpacking your things and tucking your clothes away in the drawers, claiming the sunlit space as your own. You have a meeting early tomorrow morning with your professor’s research colleague at Central Park before heading into the museum, so you figure you could take the rest of the day to grab some food and rest, far too tired to explore a good chunk of the city due to the flight.

You go to sleep peacefully that night, the view of the city and busy noise surprisingly calming you into your slumber. Unbeknownst to you, however, while you drift off into a dreamless sleep, Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko are lugging their bags through the East Hampton airport.

-

You’re up bright and early the next morning. The first thing you do is check your phone subconsciously for messages from Satoru before recalling that your once steady text communication had come to a slow halt because of you, and that you two are in separate parts of the world. You pause, heart panging suddenly at the thought of Satoru, before shaking your head and pushing the thoughts away. This trip is not for you to sit around and think about that moron. You have work to do, sights to see, research to accomplish- and a meeting in an hour.

You rush out of your AirBnB after a half an hour, waving your hand aggressively on the sidewalk to hail your first cab. One eventually comes along after three have passed, and you set your destination for the South Side of Central Park. You dig into the cash fare you set aside specifically for cab rides and step out into the path leading into the plethora of greenery and liveliness of the park upon arriving. 

You are instantly filled with childlike wonder when you catch sight of street performers, vendors, horse drawn carriages, and artists. You look around, teeth biting into your lip harshly to suppress your smile. Though it is early morning, it’s already loud and busy as people rush to work or take morning jogs down the street.

Your phone rings before you can wander off to where you are not supposed to be, and you see the name of the colleague you are supposed to meet pop up. You quickly answer and trek off into the park, following his directions and finding him sitting at a bench atop a large rock. 

He is much younger than you expected when you approach him. He may be a few years older than you are now, stubble shading his face and brown hair cut short. You smile when he catches your eye, and he’s standing, reaching out to shake your hand with a warm grin. 

The two of you talk about your education, your experience with art history, and the goal of the research you would be helping him accomplish for your professor back at home. The two of you walk and talk as you head to the east side of the park to reach the MET gallery. 

He, who you learn to be named Aoto, is a grad student in his mid twenties attending a school in the city, an alum to your current college. Aoto is helping your art history professor collect data on how certain artifacts on display in the MET gallery have been discovered and acquired over the years, and to categorize them by culture and country of origin. Your job is to assist by essentially organizing the data and taking note of his findings by following him around galleries, lectures, and meetings, and you can not be more excited to start.

You then ask the dark haired man about his experience in the city, curious to know what New York is like from an insider’s perspective. He almost laughs and tells you that living there has changed his life for the better. He admits that it takes some getting used to at first, but once you have spent enough time here, there’s no going back. New York is a melding pot, he tells you, where anyone can work toward anything. It is a tough city to attempt to conquer, but it rewards you with so many connections and experiences that you can not find anywhere else. 

You take his words to heart, already admittedly inspired by the atmosphere around you. It is nothing like home, so boisterous and hectic, but lively, eclectic, and artful. It intrigues you.

You're snapping pictures left and right when you reach the MET, a wide, tan building with large banners cascading over the walls, advertising wonderful areas of exploration and collections within the museum. Aoto, far more casual than your professor had led on, chuckles at your excitement and offers to take pictures of you in front of the building with your camera. The two of you are standing on the steps of the museum for at least fifteen minutes, distracted by capturing images on your phone, before trekking inside.

And inside, your heart bursts as this building is where you are meant to be. Ancient Greek sculptures, fragments of middle eastern fabrics, plates collected from the Byzantine Era, works capturing prominent artists of the Harlem Renaissance, and more captivate your eyes, your heart, and your mind; the museum is a melding pot of history, new worlds different from the last lurking around each corner. You jump between signs, unsure of where to go next as you take it all in. 

Today, Aoto spends by giving you a tour and familiarizing you with the environment. He works there part-time with a membership and is able to give you an in-depth analysis of as many galleries as you can conquer within the few hours of time you have set for the day. 

When the tour concludes, he gives you a brief assignment to write down a list of the galleries you would be interested in focusing on for your short participation in his project as well as what you observed about certain artifacts that are on display. It isn’t much, but he wants to get your mind pumping with something before he puts you to real work throughout the rest of the week. You accept your task happily, moved by the pieces of history that you have already seen in the span of less than one day. 

For the rest of the afternoon, you find a nearby cafe and get to work, fixated completely on the works that have caught your eye in the museum. You type away the hours, jotting down observations, things that moved you, things that confused you, things you want to see. The sun is setting again before you even notice, and you get a buzz from your phone that brings you back up for air and concludes the dive into a rabbit hole that you have traveled through for a good chunk of the day. 

Aoto’s name pops up again, this time in a text. 

Dinner? I can show you a good spot near where you’re staying. We can talk work : )

You don’t see any reason for you not to accept, so you text back and agree. He sends an address instantly, and you’re packing your laptop and rushing out of the cafe to hail a taxi to head back to your place and put away your belongings before walking to your destination. 

You conclude that this is a nice change in pace from the constant harassment of Satoru as you sit across from your research partner at a bar and grill down the block from where you’re staying. It’s casual and friendly, refreshing, new. 

You talk about tomorrow's plans, your interest in the Arms and Armor gallery and the Islamic artifacts that you have analyzed earlier in the day. You also discuss your observation of missing fragments of Syrian tile or the preservation of torn carpet from centuries past. Many of the artifacts kept in the MET are still missing parts of itself that may likely never be recovered.

Once you finish discussing the day, Aoto tells you that tomorrow, you’ll be meeting up with him and a historian who will walk you through the findings of the Islamic Art collection. 

It is late when the two of you finish up. You step outside of the dim restaurant onto the sidewalk and into the cool air, facing each other to kindly bid farewell until the following day.

You smile to yourself as he walks away, heart fulfilled with the promise of a new week abundant with all the things you find joy in doing. You think to yourself that you are so very lucky to have been granted this opportunity, to travel, to learn, to experience, and that your spring break will be absolutely amazing. You grow excited even at the prospect of telling Shoko and Suguru about it when you return home.

You turn over your shoulder and prepare to walk home, eyes to the dark sky above before you lower them to look ahead…

And your face drops.

You squint, stopping dead in your tracks. Are you dreaming? Hallucinating? You must be, because there is no reality in which your eyes have caught a glimpse of that porcelain glow of silky hair in the midst of people walking by.

You scrunch your brows, a sudden aggressive sense of anxiety taking over you. Your heartbeat rises, the notion alone of seeing what you think you see makes your palms run cold with sweat and your body hot all over. No, you must be seeing things. Your mind is playing tricks on you, because there is no way in all hell that you just saw Satoru Gojo on the streets of SoHo, New York.

But then a path clears when people scatter to the sides, revealing two tall figures and a shorter  one ahead, and your jaw hangs wide open.

You have got to be fucking kidding. 

You wish someone was, that a prank is being played on you in poor taste, but your eyes have unfortunately not mistaken you. You could recognize your three friends anywhere. You watch in awe as Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, and Shoko Leiri saunter their way up the sidewalk into your direction. 

Satoru is looking around him with a childlike smile, flashing pictures of random people and alleys that hold no significance. He busies himself with the exaggerated pictures, looking everywhere but ahead of him, which tells you that he knows full well that you are standing nearby. 

Shoko stands behind him on his left with a cigarette propped between her lips, looking off across the street at an ice cream shop that catches her eye, and Suguru looks the most miserable of them all. Clad in dark, baggy sweats, he slumps on Satoru’s right, glaring in judgment at the people that brush by him, too close for his taste.

You don’t know what to say or do. You have half the mind to just turn around and walk off into a different direction, but Satoru’s eyes meet yours behind those damned glasses that he never took off of his face before you can even think about it 

He lowers his phone and parts his lips in feigned shock, cupping a hand over his forehead and leaning over to catch a better glimpse. He opens his arms wide upon detecting your face and his posture straightens. 

“(Y/n)! What a surprise, is that you?!”

His voice carries, turning heads as his tall form practically skips over to you and glomps you in a hug. You grunt, eyes wide and body frozen as the feeling of his body embracing yours fails to register very quickly. You stare off through wisps of white hair, tormented confusion written all over your face. Satoru is rocking your body side to side suddenly, acting as though you have not seen him in years, and for the blue eyed man, it may feel like just that. 

“It’s so good to see you!” he sings, pulling back with his large hands gripping your shoulders. You look up at him with a blank stare as he beams, pearly whites shining and fair skin tinged with a hint of pink on his cheeks. He chuckles when he looks at your expression, the bubbly sound making your head spin on your neck. “You look so shocked! Did you miss me?” he asks smugly, voice dipping lower as he leans his head in with a smirk.

You're speechless, stunned by his presence and distracted by his gut wrenching beauty. 

How the hell is he here? 

“Wh-” you stammer. “How- why are you-?”

“Why am I here?” he asks your unfinished question for you, and you nod stiffly. “Wanted to do some sight seeing for spring break, and I heard New York is great for tourists,” he grins, whipping out his phone camera once more to swiftly rush to your side and wrap an arm over your shoulders and snap a selfie of the two of you. You blink, the motion too quick for you to keep up with. Satoru steps back and looks down at his screen with a smile. “Aww, how cute! This one’s a keeper, for sure.”

A tinge of irritation captures you in the midst of your stupor when Satoru makes the picture of him smiling happily next to your ‘deer-in-headlights’ expression his new lockscreen. He’s messing with you, just as he always does, and for a moment you ponder whether this is truly a coincidence meeting him here or not. 

Suguru and Shoko slowly make their way over to the two of you. “Oh, guys! Look who I ran into,” Gojo gestures proudly to you. “Isn’t that funny?”

His friends do not look in the least bit surprised. When Suguru’s eyes swipe over you apologetically then back to Satoru with lingering annoyance, your suspicions are confirmed within seconds. “So funny,” Geto smiles tightly.

Despite his blatant displeasure in being here, Suguru is quick to mask his irritation and make his way over to you to hug you in greeting. “Sorry about this,” he murmurs to you before pulling away, and you’re reeling, overwhelmed. 

Shoko comes to you next with a soft smile, eyes lighting as she nudges your shoulder playfully. “Long time no see, huh? 

“Y-Yeah,” you stutter, flashing her a quick smile before glowering angrily up at Satoru. “What are the odds that we all find each other in America?” you hiss. 

“I know, right?” Satory shakes his head as if marveling at a joke. “The universe has a funny way of bringing us all together.”

Your eye twitches and your cheeks burn. You’re flustered, having been caught off guard by the one person you were trying your hardest to get away from. Now he’s here, after following you around in your heart, mind, and back home on campus, he has followed you overseas into another continent. 

You can’t escape him.

“So what are you up to? It’s dangerous to walk out here at night alone,” he says.

God, he is so insufferable. The very sound of his voice makes you want to slap him across the face in hopes that it will buffer whatever simulation you have been plopped into that has forced you to face Satoru Gojo of all people.

“Have you started your research yet?” Shoko inquires.

“Um… yeah, I got started with some stuff today. I actually just finished meeting with my research partner…”

“Oh, you were with someone then?” Satoru asks, pretending not to care. You can tell simply by the way he shoves his hands into his pockets and lifts his brows as though clueless. One thing you have learned about Satoru over the years is that his vision is eerily impressive and he observes things from miles away. In fact, he brags about his keen observational skills all the time, therefore, if he was able to see you from afar, he would have been able to see Aoto bid you farewell and walk away too.

“She just said she was with her research partner, Satoru,” Suguru adds, voice monotone. 

“I know, but I didn’t see any woman near (Y/n) before I saw her.”

You clench your jaw. “It’s a he,” you clarify flatly, eyes sharp on his face.

He nods slowly. “Ohhh, really now?” he hums, and you fight the urge to strangle him. “That’s interesting. Cool, good for you.”

“I’m sorry- what- I mean, how are you guys even here?” you change the subject to get clarification. “I didn’t think any of you were traveling for break. Shoko, you just told me the other night that you would be home.”

You don’t miss the exhale that Suguru breathes and the way Shoko’s eyes dart instantly to Gojo. “That’s a great question,” Suguru says. “Why don’t you ask Satoru? He’s the one who wanted to travel so bad.”

Satoru looks over at his best friend out of the corner of his eye, eyes hard as if warning him not to give him away. 

“Is that so?”

“You know me, (Y/n),” he turns to you giddily. “I love to go outside the box.”

“Clearly,” you bite, and he only grins that same stupid grin. You understand now. It was all his idea, as always. “So then, where are you guys staying? Here in the city?”

“Actually, no,” Suguru grumbles.

“Satoru’s rented a place up in the Hamptons.”

“The Hamptons?” you reel at Shoko’s revelation. “That’s a two hour drive from here!”

“We know,” she and Suguru say in unison, and you look at Satoru accusingly.

“Why would you make that drive at this time of night?”

The white haired man rolls his eyes. “As if it’s so crazy to want to rent a car to drive down to the city.”

“On our first full day on vacation, yes. It is,” Suguru says.

“Well, I wanted to see Times Square.”

“Times Square is on the other side of the city.”

“Okay, and? We can’t make detours along the way?” Satoru argues sassily. “Plus, my decision to make a detour and stop in the closest neighborhood led us to our friend! You guys should really be thanking me for reuniting us all like this.”

You almost wish you can’t believe this, but sadly, you do. 

Satoru Gojo is the only person you know who has not only the means, but the funds, and the audacity to book a last minute trip to New York solely to disrupt your peace. You can tell by Suguru’s face that he is not keen on spending time in the city, for he had always told you about his pet peeve of large crowded areas with unsanitary conditions. New York is the last place he would want to be, and the only reason he would even find himself here is if his nuisance of a best friend forced him to be. 

While Shoko does not look bothered to be in the city at all, you know her very well. Shoko is low maintenance, but she likes to relax, to unwind, and she most likely much prefers the Hamptons and the beach over an impromptu drive into a city with no water or signs of relaxation.

And then there was Satoru, arrogant, hardly ever serious, and all too pleased with himself. He knows exactly what he is doing, showing up in the same part of the city you told your brown haired friend you would be residing in for the entirety of your stay. The pictures you have posted on social media hours ago likely led Satoru to this very spot, where he stands with an air of satisfaction and delight around him. 

You witness the way girls’ eyes linger as they walk by, his presence giving off that of a model’s. He clearly is not native to the city, for you all stand out like a sore thumb, but Satoru specifically gives off a vibe of untouchable refinement and value that not many have seen before. 

You hate him, how much attention he gets anywhere he goes, how he is so painfully aware of it. You hate how smug he looks, how pleased he appears to be in your presence after having shown up so unexpected. You hate him and those captivating round eyes complemented by snowy lashes glimpsing over round frames. You hate his irritating smile that prods into subtle indents of dimples in his lower chin and the stretch of pink lips that you catch yourself ogling at during the worst of times. You hate the way he dresses so well, how he stands confidently adorned in a loose, linen shirt and jeans, and how his clothing smells of him hand in hand with his intoxicating cologne.

You hate him. You hate him so much. You hate how he won’t leave you alone, not even for a second, not even when you think you’re safe. He returns to haunt you, to flaunt himself all around you with no regard for how he makes you feel. He’s a brat. A spoiled, self-concerned, childish brat who you love with all of your being and you hate him. 

“Since we’re all here,” Satoru begins slyly, interrupting your train of thought with a shrug. “Why don’t you show us where you’re staying, (Y/n)? For old time’s sake.”

You try to regulate your breathing before you actually find yourself punching the white haired bastard beside you in the face. First, he springs himself onto you in the middle of the street, and now, he’s asking to intrude on your space. What gives him the right?

“I don’t think (Y/n) would want us marching into her space like that,” Suguru says pensively, doing his best not to further agitate you. He must have already seen the look on your face and determined that it is time for him to drag Satoru away from you and give you some breathing room. “After all, you’re working here, aren’t you (Y/n)? We wouldn’t want to distract you anymore than we already have.”

“Nah, (Y/n) would love to have us! Right?” Satoru speaks for you, moving behind you to cup your shoulders into his palms again.

You tense, his scent consuming you and his body heat radiating into yours. He’s so tall, you can feel his body dwarfing yours from where he stands so close. 

You want to kill him. 

“Come on,” he probes, grip on your shoulders tightening. “Just this once and we’ll be out of your hair.”

You know it's a lie the moment he speaks it into existence. Never once has Satoru come and gone so easily when you were involved. He always ensures to make a show of his pestering, sticking around you for as long as possible until he finally decides that he is happy with himself. You know that if you agree to letting him in, he won’t leave. At least, not for a long while. 

“Leave her be, Satoru,” Shoko waves at him. “She’s sick of your face already.”

“No one could be sick of my face, Shoko. It’s a work of art.”

“For real, Satoru. Let’s get out of this city already. It smells horrible,” Suguru adds.

“Hold on a minute, would you? We’re not going anywhere until we hear a yes or no from (Y/n).. Don’t be so impatient.”

Satoru happily places the spotlight onto you as your friends await a response.

Your first instinct is to tell them that it is getting late, that they should probably start heading back soon so that they are not driving past an unreasonable hour. You want to rid yourself of the thought of Gojo, of his eyes, his smile, his smell, his presence. You want to tell him off, to tell him that you want him gone, to go about your week as if nothing has happened.

You want to find the strength to do so badly, but you can’t.

As you stand there with your friends surrounding you, looking at their faces, you realize that you have missed them despite your desire to avoid Gojo for selfish reasons. You miss late night study sessions with Suguru in his apartment while you exchange laughs as well as answers for problems you were unsure about. You miss sneaking off into secluded areas of the campus to spark a flame in the dusk with Shoko, smoking until you were inebriated enough to bang on Suguru and Satoru’s door and demand food. And most of all, you miss Satoru. You miss the way he pestered you, the way he showed up outside of your classes, the way he took your phone to sneak a few pictures into your camera roll, the way he lounged on your bed and ranted to you about his father for hours while you listened as you painted your nails at your desk. 

You miss his company. You miss the way he makes you laugh. You even miss the way he makes you frown. 

You hadn’t realized before how difficult it had been to keep your distance from these people until seeing them here with you, and a wave of guilt sinks over your body. Suguru and Shoko are clearly attempting to do damage control before damage is inflicted by urging Satoru to leave you be, and them along with him, but despite your eagerness to stay away from Satoru, you find you don’t want him to leave you be. You don’t want any of them to leave you be. You miss your friends, and to turn them away now would be like rejecting them forever.

The four of you are out of the country together for the first time. You would be cruel to waste this opportunity to spend time with them after weeks of trying to step away.

So you sigh and give in, knowing that it is exactly what Satoru wants. “It wouldn’t hurt to have you guys over,” you say shyly, and Suguru and Shoko perk up. “Hell, we’re in America. Why not? I missed you guys.”

Shoko smiles, and against Suguru’s distaste for the city, he smiles tiredly with the shake of his head. He can only imagine that this trip will go into a far more chaotic direction that he had already believed. 

Satoru rejoices loudly, linking his arm around yours and yanking you to him. “Alright, (Y/n)! Lead the way!” he projects, marching forward and pulling you along with him. You stumble to catch up with his large strides.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming! Just slow down, you idiot!” you bark as he drags you past Shoko and Suguru.

The two exchange glances, sharing the same knowing look, before following suit. 

The four of you stop to grab pizza and a few beers on the way before entering your AirBnB. After Satoru familiarizes himself with the entire space, nosily peering into every nook and cranny, the four of you settle in the living room to eat with the balcony door open, allowing the spring breeze and ambiance of the city to drift into the space while you all keeled over in laughter, reminiscing over the past few years you have spent in each other’s company. Hours fly by until two empty pizza boxes sit in the middle of the floor, forgotten by your boisterousness. 

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on,” Shoko wheezes with laughter, leaning over in her seat on the sofa she shares with Geto to put out the ashes of her cigarette into the mug on that table. “What about that time Satoru got plastered and tried to scale the side of the science building?”

You and Suguru burst out cackling. You crane over your lap and Suguru throws his head back, amusement overcoming your bodies. Satoru rolls his eyes, tilting back the beer in his hand to prevent you all from seeing his smile.

 “Oh my god,” you cry. “He- He was yelling at us- for trying to tell him that the bricks- were too flat for him to grab!” 

“And then he made it up like five inches before falling flat on his ass!”

The three of you howl at the memory, stomachs aching from how hard you are laughing. “And his face after,” Suguru adds, swiping his hand over his face. “He was pissed at us like we did something wrong.”

“Because it was your lack of faith that fucked up my concentration,” Satoru butts in after lowering the bottle from his lips, thumb smoothing away drops of alcohol from his mouth. “I bet you I can climb that old ass building now. I know what to expect this time. I’ll be prepared.” 

“Sure, and you’ll break a hip this time around too.”

Satoru flips Suguru off from across the room, to which the dark haired man smiles with feigned politeness. 

“God, we used to get drunk like every weekend,” you say, placing your empty bottle on the floor next to the pizza boxes. You sit sprawled out between the couch and the chair that Satoru occupies, legs crossed before you. “How the hell did we get anything done?”

“Beats me,” Shoko chuckles, cooling down from her fit of giggles. “I don’t think I went to one class sober back in freshman year.”

“That sounds to me like you have a problem,” Satoru smirks.

“And you don’t? You’re a lightweight who actively chooses to get wrecked off three shots then makes it everyone else’s problem.”

“Wouldn’t me being a lightweight mean I’m less addicted?” he leans over his spread legs, sitting his elbows on his knees as he cradles his beer in his large palms. 

“No, it means you’re worse than any of us,” you tease, looking over to find Satoru’s eyes already on you.

He raises a brow. “Oh yeah? What about you, miss ‘emotional drunk?’”

You can hear Suguru snort, and you’re whipping your head between the two, offended. “Shut up! I don’t get that emotional.”

“(Y/n), you are so sappy when you’re drunk,” Suguru snickers. “One minute you’re taking a shot, the next you’re crying about how much you appreciate our friendship.”

Your face goes red. “I do not!” you deny.

“Oh, yes you do,” Shoko agrees.

“‘You guys, I just don’t know what I’d do without you!’” Satoru imitates your voice by scaling his own up a pitch, pressing a hand to his chest to encapsulate a touched emotion. “‘You all make me so happy! I love you all so much!’”

“Shut up!” you demand, fighting a laugh as Shoko and Suguru stifle their own. 

“‘Satoru, I know I’m mean to you all the time, but I don’t mean it! I love having you around! You make me smile!’” he sighs dreamily, batting his eyelashes, and your friends are laughing loudly again.

You crawl over to where Satoru sits and slap his shin hard, to which he looks down at you and grins snarkily. “Ow.”

“I do not sound like that,” you argue.

“Sure you do. I should know, I'm the one you always ended up babbling to.”

“Liar,” you groan.

“Whatever you say,” Satoru taps your nose lightly with his finger and you quickly swat his hand away.

“Oh! Suguru, do you remember that time (Y/n) cried over your hair?” Shoko brings up. 

It’s their turn to make fun of you now as you cross your arms stubbornly and listen. 

“She told me that she was crying because she was happy for me that my hair is so long,” the hazel eyed man recalls. 

“I mean, who wouldn’t?” Satoru chimes in. “Suguru was blessed with such beautiful, luscious hair, who wouldn’t cry over it? Isn’t that right, (Y/n)?” 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” you murmur. “At least I’m kind when I’m drunk.”

All eyes immediately turn to Suguru, and he freezes, laughter dying in his throat. “What?”

“You’re a fucking asshole when you’re drunk, Sugu, that’s what,” Shoko says. 

“Oh please, I’m not that bad.” 

“Tell that to those girls you made cry at the bar last year.”

Suguru grunts, pursing his lips in embarrassment. “I told them I was sorry.”

“Doesn’t make you any less of a monster off vodka,” Satoru says, and Geto throws an arm pillow at the blue eyed man’s face. 

You smile to yourself, leaning back on your hands and looking out the window at the city lights. “This is nice,” you say aloud.

Suguru and Shoko hum in agreement while Satoru stands to his feet after putting his bottle on the floor. “Isn’t it?” he announces loudly in content. “Aren’t you glad you ran into us and invited us here?”

“You invited yourself here,” you correct with a roll of your eyes. “But yes, Satoru. Yes I am.”

“We’ve missed spending time with you, (Y/n),” Shoko says. “You left me alone to deal with these two idiots and all they do is fight.”

“Because Satoru doesn’t take anything seriously,” Geto adds.

“It’s only ‘cause I love ya, Suguru.”

“Shut the hell up.”

You chuckle, bringing your knees to your chest. You glance at your phone beside you and see that the time reads 1:34 am. You cringe, unsure of where the hell the time went. “Damn, it’s late,” you say.

Suguru glances at his own phone and his brows jump. “Oh shit, yeah,” he observes. “Sorry, (Y/n). Didn’t mean to take up your entire night.”

“No, no. It's fine, I’m actually really glad you did.”

Shoko stands, stretching her arms behind her back with a sigh. “So, we hittin’ the road or what?” 

You can feel Satoru’s eyes on you in an instant, and you already know what he is going to suggest before he even opens his mouth to ask. You curse yourself internally because you know that you will regret proposing what you are about to propose, but you can’t bring yourself to watch your friends head out so late and drive two hours out to where they are staying.

Once again, Satoru’s decisions have become your problem. 

“Why don’t you guys just sleep over here for the night?” you suggest.

“...Are you sure?” Suguru questions. “I’m sure you’re busy tomorrow… and you’ve only been here one night.”

“It’s not a big deal. I meet with Aoto at ten tomorrow, so I’ll have plenty of time to get ready and see you guys off. Please, I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let Satoru drive you all back this late.”

“Aoto?”

“My research partner.”

“Ah,” Suguru nods, eyes flickering up swiftly to Satoru’s face before landing back on yours. “Well, if it’s not any trouble for you, we’d appreciate it.”

“Not at all. The four of us have had hundreds of sleepovers, this isn’t any different.”

“Alright, then. Thanks.”

The moment you stand up, Satoru is leaning himself against you, resting his heavy head on yours and squishing against your cheek. “You take such good care of us,” he coos, giggling when you try to push him away but struggle under his weight.

“Satoru, get off!”

The next twenty minutes fly as you spend them setting up the pullout in the living room (that you have only just discovered) and moving the coffee table to lay extra blankets and pillows next to the pullout. Suguru and Shoko take the bed while Satoru teases you about letting him sleep in the bed with you. You tell him to fuck off and he winks. 

Suguru and Shoko pass out within minutes, likely exhausted from Satoru pulling them along with him all day. You see Satoru setting himself up on the floor, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, when you sneak past quietly to step out onto the balcony.

You aren’t tired. Your mind is racing and your nerves are jumping with their awareness of Satoru sitting in your living room. You exhale softly, leaning over the railing and looking down at the still busy streets, watching taxis round corners aggressively and pedestrians chat loudly. You close your eyes, setting your arms on the rail and your cheek atop them, listening to the sounds and savoring the feeling of the cool night breeze against your flustered skin.

You soak in at least five minutes of silence before you hear feet padding behind you and the door opens and closes again. You lift your head and turn to find Satoru joining you. He walks up quietly and stands beside you, peering over the ledge in the same fashion you had as you avert your gaze. 

He does not say much, shockingly. Sleepiness is finally catching up to him as he looks down lazily, peacefully, unshaded blue eyes glossy beneath his long lashes. The soft distant lights of the street lamps illuminate his face with a dim glow while he hunches over, watching calmly. 

It is quiet between the two of you for a moment before he’s talking, a deep voice sending chills down your spine. “Do you like it here so far?” he asks softly, voice low.

You nod, pursing your lips and keeping your gaze down. “Yeah, it’s nice,” you tell him gently. “Really different from home, but nice. I like it.”

“I can see the appeal,” he agrees. “It’s busy like Tokyo.”

“Yeah, it is,” you nod. “I don’t think it’s Suguru’s style.”

A huff of amusement breathlessly leaves Satoru’s lips, the corners of his mouth curling. “It definitely isn’t. I had to practically drag him out of his room to get him to come with.”

“You know Suguru. He’s picky.”

“Very.”

“Shoko seems to be cool with the city though.”

“Mhm. There’s not much she doesn’t adapt to.”

“That’s true…” you mumble as a lull in the conversation arises. “...Satoru, why are you-“

“So what’s your research partner like?” he interjects, turning to look at you now. You furrow your brows, meeting his eyes when you face him. His face is serene, still, yet his eyes tell a different story. They’re alive with an eagerness for his question to be answered, a curiosity, a hint of frustration. You grow confused.

“…Why?”

He tilts his head. “I can’t ask about the person my friend is working with?”

“I- no, it’s just an abrupt question.”

“I don’t think it is,” he disagrees. “What’s his name again? Ayano?”

“Aoto,” you correct sharply.

“Right. So? How is he?”

His eyes don’t waver, and you pucker your lips with befuddlement. “I mean, he’s nice. I only just met him today, but I like him so far.”

“Yeah?” he says. “You must. I mean, you just met him and he’s already taking you to dinner.”

“…For work, Satoru. Dinner for work,” you say firmly, put off by his comment. “And he was being nice because I’ve never been in the city before.”

He nods and hums nonchalantly. “That makes sense,” he says, though you doubt he’s very understanding.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” he answered quickly. “It’s just, we haven’t talked in so long and you’re already…”

You leaned over on your elbow and turned to face him fully. “Already what?”

He smiles to himself and lowers his head, picking at his fingernails. “I don’t know,” he mumbles. “It’s just been weird, that’s all. I had to find you in America to get you to talk to me.”

A still silence settles in the air again as you stare at him, attempting to comprehend what is going through his mind. “Satoru,” you begin, and you almost think you see him jump when you say his name. “Why are you here?”

His eyes glance up ahead of him before back down at his hands over the railing. “I told you, already. For spring break.”

“You expect me to believe that of all places in the world, you chose to come to the same place that I told Shoko I was going?” you question and he only shrugs. “I’m not dumb, Satoru. You’ve always done this.”

“Done what?” his brows angle. 

“This,” you emphasize to yourself. “You always find ways to- to-“

“To what?” 

His eyes are on you again, vibrant, intense. You struggle to respond under the isolation of his gaze. “You know what I mean. It’s just what you do. You push your boundaries with people,” you say eventually. 

“Am I pushing a boundary with you by being here now?”

“I don’t know, Satoru, I just don’t think it’s a coincidence that you show up down the street from me in a completely different country.”

“But what if it is?”

“It’s not, though.”

“But if it is a coincidence, would you still be upset? Would you still be asking me why I’m here?” he questions. “Because I think you would.”

“The point here, Satoru, is that it’s not a coincidence and we both know it. That’s the only reason why I’m reacting this way.”

“So what I don’t understand, right,” Satoru starts and you can sense a tone of hostility creeping into his voice, though it remains mellow,” …is why it’s all of a sudden strange for me to want to spend time with you.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re so busy focusing on why I’m here instead of just the fact that I’m here.”

“Yeah, because I know you.”

“Do you?” 

You straighten yourself, trying to act as if his words did not sting. “What’s going on, huh? What’s the issue?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, (Y/n). You stopped answering my calls and texts, you don’t hang out with me anymore, you leave the country without telling me…” he stops himself before he can go any further and turns to look down at you head on again. “Help me understand, did I do something wrong?”

You sigh and lower your gaze. “Satoru���”

“I just need to understand what happened between us. We’re friends, and all of a sudden you’re acting like we’re not. Even Suguru and Shoko see it, but you still talk to them more than you talk to me these days.”

“It’s not-“ you pause, trying to figure out what you want to say. You don’t want to talk about this right now. Not here, not with him. It’s too much for you to get into, especially so without revealing how you feel about him. “I’ve just been-“

“Busy?” he interjects, and you deflate.

“Yes, actually.”

“Okay,” he nods, ripping his eyes from you as if the sight of you temporarily blinded him. “I can handle you being busy, (Y/n), but I can’t handle being ignored. And you can’t tell me that you haven’t been doing just that.”

“I haven’t been ignoring you.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you argue. “I’ve been giving myself space. It’s different.”

“But why do you need space from me? What did I do?”

“It’s nothing you did, per say, Satoru.”

“Okay, then why?” he pleads. “Why won’t you talk to me anymore? Why aren’t you happy to see me? If I haven’t done anything wrong, why have you pushed me away? If there’s nothing, then that would just mean that you chose to step away from me for no reason, and I refuse to believe that’s true.”

You can tell by the way he speaks that you have truly affected him by stepping away, affected him in a way you did not realize you had. 

You honestly didn’t think he would have cared either way if you had waned off your contact, but you were clearly very wrong. After all, like Satoru said, you’re his friend above anything else. 

He’s looking at you again, desperation swirling in his crystal irises. “So just tell me, (Y/n). Tell me what it is. What did I do? What can I do?”

You sigh, hardened exterior softening, because how could it not when he’s giving you those huge puppy dog eyes.

“If I hurt your feelings, I didn’t mean to,” you tell him. “That wasn’t why… I’m sorry.”

“I’m not trying to get you to apologize for something you knew you were doing, I just want to understand why,” he says gently. “But if you don’t want to tell me… I guess that’s fine. I can’t force it out of you. I just thought you should know that I’ve missed you.”

You feel your heart do that thing it does every time Satoru is around, and you melt slightly. “I missed you too.”

Then, he’s smiling again, as though he wasn’t just upset. Eyes bright and cheeks warm as he turns to you with a newfound warmth returning in his composure. “Did you really?” he inquires, bending over slightly and craning his neck down to you with a low lidded eyes and cheeky grin.

You scoff, pushing his head away and turning your head to the side. “Don’t push it.”

“Yes ma’am,” he teases. “But seriously though.”

He steps closer to you, eyes peering down at you with a soft gleam. You look up and stiffen as he nears further into your personal space, his hand gripping the rail as the other tucks into his pocket. 

“Don’t ignore me again,” he mutters, gaze piercing into yours. “Please.”

You stare at each other wordlessly, air bristling through your hair as an intensity swelters between you. You blink, swallowing nervously. “O-Okay. Sorry.”

He hums, a smile stretching over his face once more, and ducks down to wraps his arms tightly around your waist, hoisting you up in the air as he embraces you. You squeak, your arms grasping at his shoulder blades to steady yourself once you're off balance. “It’s okay, munchkin,” he squeezes you tightly. “I could never stay upset with you!” 

“Satoru, put me down!” you hiss, face flustering. 

He chuckles, setting you gently back down onto your feet. You put bashfully, straightening out your shirt as he looks at you sweetly. “Man, am I glad we made up. I would have done something crazy if this went on much longer.”

“Oh, you mean crazier than flying all the way to fucking New York?” you quip and he grins.

“I told you, I’m here for vacation. Not everything’s about you, you narcissist,” he says, and you can feel a vein bulging in your forehead. 

“Sure,” you grumble.

“Anyways, since we’re all already here, I think we’ll stay in the city one more day before heading back up to our place.”

You quirk a brow. “Um, you think Suguru is gonna be okay with that?”

“Not at all, but I’m the one driving, so he’ll have to be fine.”

You shake your head to yourself, laughing quietly. “He’s gonna kill you one of these days.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Satoru says, making his way over to the patio door. “Oh,” he stops and turns over his shoulder. “What’s your schedule like tomorrow?”

“Well, I told you, I have a meeting at ten.”

“Oh yeah, with Aromo.”

“Aoto.”

“Same thing,” he sighs loudly, turning his eyes up. “Whatever, either way, we should all hang when you’re done. You know, before we head back.”

“While that sounds fun, Satoru, I’m here for research. I’m not sure I'll have much free time.”

“Right, like you’ll be doing work all day,” he says sarcastically.

“...Yeah. I might be,” you repeat with a straight face. 

“Uh huh. So, we’ll see you at one?”

“Wh- Satoru, I have to check with-”

“Great! Text us and we’ll meet you wherever you are when you’re finished,” he cuts in, not even allowing the word no to hit his ears. 

“No! Satoru-”

“Good night, beautiful,” he blows a dramatic kiss, swinging the door open. He reduces his voice to a whisper, mindful of his sleeping friends on the pullout behind him. “See you in the morning~” he wiggles his fingers in a dainty wave before leaving the balcony and shutting the door behind him, plopping himself down on his makeshift bed after making his way around the couch. 

You look after him in agitation, finding yourself alone and processing what Satoru has just said to you, the way he looked at you as he begged to understand why you took steps away from your friendship, the warmth of his arms as you held you tight, the gleam in his eye when he asked you not to ignore him. You shiver as the moments replay in your head, making you wonder how things have come to this. 

You sigh and turn back around to look out at the city one last time before turning into bed. It’s going to be a long week. 

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - implied kidnapping, possessive behavior, slight stalking, delusional thoughts.

[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]

Like most tailors, Chiori often finds herself preoccupied with the concept of preservation.

It’s as inevitable as it is unreasonable, for those who work through mediums as impermanent as fabric and textile. To make a piece of clothing is to make something that, by its very definition, cannot last. No matter how fine the silk, no matter how strong the thread, no matter how sturdy her design – colors will fade and stitches will run and eventually, the only thing left of her masterpiece will be a pile of scraps left to rot underneath a bed or among the cobwebs in a forgotten attic corner. Fashion is an even more unforgiving mistress. What does it mean to try and capture the beauty of a single moment in a world that stood for a thousand years before she ever thought to pick up a needle and will stand for a thousand more, when she’s no longer able to? What does it mean that she keeps trying, regardless?

Inevitably, when Chriori thinks about herself and her craft, she thinks about preservation. And, when she thinks about preservation, she thinks about you.

You, in the most generous of sentiments, are the enemy of permanence. Her designs may eventually fall apart, but you seem to tear and shatter all that you touch, to rend the very fabric of reality without ever dropping that achingly oblivious smile. Your first visit to her shop ended with a shattered teacup, your second with a chip to the blade of her favorite pair of sheers, your tenth with a pot of her darkest, blackest dye splattered across an otherwise untouched skein of dove-white silk. Calling you clumsy would be an understatement – you’re a vehicle of pure destruction, an entity of the type of chaos that so often reduces her finest creations to rags. If it wasn’t for the way you apologize so wholeheartedly after each and every offense, the bright optimism written across your expression each time you step through the door of her boutique, she might mistake your drastic lack of coordination for a deliberate act of sabotage. At least, if that were the case, she may be able to find the strength to banish you entirely from her domain.

Her frequent gifts to you – unpaid orders, she assures, items that would just go to waste if left to gather dust on her shelves – are demolished with a similar haste. That, you can blame on the needs of your trade, claim that the clothes of the noble class don’t mix with the work of laborers, but as often as she tries, she fails to see what’s so dangerous about hauling spools of ribbon and crates of lace from one boutique to another. You do your best to mend torn sleeves, to find replacements for missing buttons, but she almost wishes you wouldn’t – that you’d let her claims to you die a swift death rather than defacing them so humiliatingly. In her weakest moments, she considers that being more blatant with her intentions, speaking to you in something other than cutting innuendo and being more transparent in her attempts to carve her name into you, but it wouldn’t make a difference. Your nature, so quick and brash and thoughtless, is contradictory to hers. No number of signatures stitched into the hems of undercollars and lipstick stains pressed into the lining between layers of material can change that.

Certainly, none of it can change the trait Chiori finds most troubling in you – your willing inability to preserve even the most precious of things, yourself. Fontaine is a much more gentle land than Inazuma, but no part of Teyvat is completely free from risk. You brag worryingly often about your run-ins with local monsters, go on at length about having to guard the embroideries she had commissioned from the finest thread-painters in Liyue from fabric-eating slimes and especially fashionable thieves, but all your levity can’t seem to draw your attention from the bruises blossoming upward from your shirt collar, the bandages so often wrapped around knuckles and plastered over your cheeks. Mortality is a concept you seemed to have considered briefly and ultimately discarded, leaving Chiori to try to make something redeemable out of the scraps. It’d be enough to drive anyone mad. It’d be enough to drive any good tailor to extremes.

You are not a delicate fabric. Satin can be properly hemmed and handled with gloves, embroidery glazed over with perfumes and resins, lace held to a candle and burnt into a more sustainable form, but you are not so easily changed. Gowns have no regard for safety or the lack thereof, but you – frustrating, impossible you – seem to actively detest the very idea of it.

You are the enemy of permeance. It’s a thought Chiori often considers, lingers on, obsess over, as she would the safe keeping of any of her proudest works.

But, she finds herself thinking, as she feels the reassuring chill of iron chains again her palm and weighs it against two matching twin cuffs, there’s a chance she may just be pairing you with the wrong materials.

[bones4thecats]

S/O with PTSD After Their Students Pass

Characters: Gyomei Himejima, Kyojuro Rengoku, Mitsuri Kanroji, and Obanai Iguro Inspired By: Random idea that came to mind A/N: You can tell I had the most fun writing Iguro's part. I'm kinda having a hard time writing for Gyomei, but I'm sure I'll get used to his character here soon! Anyways, enjoy! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Spoilers for the MANGA, mentions of mutilation, blindness, war, blood, death, PTSD, and near-death experiences ⚠️

Disclaimer: Imagine they all survive the final battle (by character)

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

╚═════ Gyomei Himejima ════════════════════════╝

🪨 Gyomei knew how much you adored teaching your tsugukos, especially your deceased-friend's son, Hoshi. And he knew just how strong these young slayers were from you

🪨 You were always happy, praising your students. But, when the battle against the demons ended with the loss of multiple fellow Hashira and other slayers, the trauma of seeing your own student die in your arms, saying how much he loved you, just haunted you

🪨 Your husband had gone through similar pain, as he lost many children back at the orphanage he worked at when he was younger. So, he was an expert at handling this kind of pain

🪨 He would avoid certain topics when you were obviously more sensitive, but he would involve the story of your student time to time. He knew that you couldn't just run from the past, you helped him confront his past, and he knew he had to help you confront it

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

╚═════ Kyojuro Rengoku ═════════════════════════╝

❤️‍🔥 When Rengoku began healing up from his scrape-with-death during his mission on the Mugen Train, he was shocked to see you coming in soon with major injuries on you

❤️‍🔥 He sat up in surprise as Shinobu, Kanao, and Aoi began to wrap up your injuries rapidly, your breathing shallow as the three butterfly women carefully-yet-quickly fixed you up. Your husband was being held down by the triplets while you were healed

❤️‍🔥 It was only when you were stabilized that Shinobu told him what was going on. He was shocked to hear that you had lost your three students to an uppermoon, one of them being your adoptive brother, whom you raised since he was around 8 and you were merely 14

❤️‍🔥 Rengoku was saddened to hear that the barely 15-year-old passed, but he was even sadder for you. When you awoke, you asked him where the young boy was, and it broke his heart to see your face go from confused and innocent to pained and borderline-traumatized

❤️‍🔥 He understands the pain of losing someone close to you, he did lose his mother when he was young. But, due to his tiny-amount of obliviousness, he was rough at helping you with your PTSD at first

❤️‍🔥 Rengoku does get the hand of it in the end, as your pain seemingly lifted a bit after the final battle and the young Kamaboko squad, especially Nezuko and Tanjiro, survived and lived to see more days as humans and not the demons they were stuck as for a period of time

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

╚═════ Mitsuri Kanroji ══════════════════════════╝

💗 Mitsuri was very scared when she saw you get hit by Muzan, and she screamed your name as she got hit as well. It was only a few hours after nearly passing away in each-other's arms that you awoke to her hugging you closely with her one-remaining arm

💗 You leaned into her touch as you remembered seeing your precious student, the only one who survived the Final Selection in years, die at the hands of the now-deceased Demon King

💗 She was beyond sad to attend the funeral for your fallen friends. Mitsuri sobbed the hardest at the Hashiras, the Ubuyashikis, and your student's, she was so close to them all that it pained her to know that they were gone and you both were destined for death in a mere few years

💗 While yes, she was happy you wouldn't go through the mental pain of dealing with grief over your student, your wife hated just thinking of you leaving her earlier than planned

💗 She also is decent with handling your trauma, as she knows how to comfort someone excellently. Mitsuri would find you sitting awake at night, your head laying in your hands as you cried with a blank-face, and she would just hug you, allowing you to cry into her chest

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

╚═════ Obanai Iguro ════════════════════════════╝

🐍 Iguro was surprised to awaken without the ability to see, he could only hear you humming lowly while you ran your hands up and down his arm slowly

🐍 He wanted to know what happened right when he woke up, to which you just sighed and said you would tell him when he was more awake and aware of his surroundings, much to his annoyance. He couldn't see now, what was the point?

🐍 You finally told him everything, from the deaths of Shinobu, Gyomei, Mitsuri, etc. to the way you were injuried. But the thing that shook him up the most was how Mitsuri and your student passed away, dying while holding one another

🐍 Mitsuri always spoke to your student, viewing him as a younger brother, so hearing that the two died next to one another was shocking. And, since his hearing was a but more advanced, he knew almost everything that you would mumble under your breath, leading you to saying 'fuck it' to even trying to hide things from your husband

🐍 Iguro has his own trauma that he still struggles with, and with your own being layered on, it made him give in and ask to speak with the other remaining Hashira, that being Giyuu and Sanemi, and bring them with to talk to the Butterfly Mansion's girls to help deal with each of your struggles

🐍 It brought you all closer, and you all spent your final years being close, bonding over your survival and control you all worked hard to regain over your lives after the hard-earned battle. And while you all wouldn't tell anyone, you would all visit the graves of your fallen comrades to honor their memories, with you and your husband visiting the Love Hashira, your students, and fallen Master

🐍 He also wouldn't tell you outwardly, but he cries almost every time he lays his hand on the graves of his past friends, and those he considered family. Even with his past of abuse, which normally led others to not show emotion in fear of being hurt again, he just couldn't help letting his out while you hugged him and helped him around

🐍 Overall, since he has his own struggles and deals with both of your guys' pretty well, I'd say he would get a 8.5/10 with this

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Headcanons for Jennifer Check with an autistic S/O?

I love this idea so much- I took inspiration from some of my own experiences so this might not apply to everyone but I certainly did my best! I really hope you like it <3

Jennifer Check with an autistic s/o

Warnings: brief mention of meltdowns/sensory overloads, references to ableism/ignorant people, very brief (somewhat) joking mention of committing murder (it's Jenny, what do you expect), very salty and blunt language that I'm honestly not even sorry for

I honestly think Jennifer would appreciate dating an autistic person, especially if you're the type who's very straight forward or overly blunt about things

She probably thought you were a bit of a bitch at first I'm not gonna lie lol, but she makes that assumption about pretty much everyone when she first meets them

You'd seen each other around school before but your first real conversation was when you were paired up for some sort of science project. She was not looking or feeling like her typical hot and fabulous self, and while you weren't the first to notice you were the only one brave enough to point it out

"Have you been getting enough sleep recently? You have really heavy bags under your eyes"

Jennifer wanted to snap at you at first, thinking you were being sarcastic (because obviously she had bags under her eyes, she didn't need anyone pointing it out) but much to her surprise you didn't look like you were making fun of her. In fact, you seemed a little concerned

"Your hair looks pretty damaged." You continued, oblivious to the look of utter shock on her face that you would actually say something like that out loud. "If using both shampoo and conditioner is too much of a trouble I can recommend some two-in-one products. Or you can always use dry shampoo in between washes"

The woman was too stunned to speak. All she was able to do was mutter an awkward "thank you", something that you simply nodded your head at before turning the conversation back over to the project

She gained a lot of respect for you that day, as you were the only person who wasn't afraid to say what everyone was thinking (though she soon learned this was due to you not knowing what was and wasn't considered 'appropriate' to say)

Out of everyone, you're the one person Jennifer goes to (other than maybe Needy) when she needs an honest opinion on something because you won't lie to spare her feelings or try to flatter her

"Which tank top do you think I should wear to school tomorrow, the pink one or the black one?"

"Well, the pink one makes you look like slut. But the black one makes you look like both a slut and a bitch, too"

"Perfect. Black it is, then"

If you ever accidentally make a situation awkward or uncomfortable by your comments or questions you won't even have to worry about being embarrassed because she'll immediately come out with saying something so bitchy and/or vulgar that whatever you said looks innocent in comparison and is forgotten about right away

She'll get very protective if people try to purposely make you feel bad for the out of pocket things you say. After all, you're just telling people the truth, it's not their fault if they can't handle a dose of reality (her words, not mine)

Even though she loves to party she'll most likely either tone it down or just stop going altogether when she finds out you don't like them all that much because of the loud music, bright lights, small spaces crowded with lots of drunk people, etc. She'd rather be with you any way

Always lets you infodump to her about your newest interest or favorite thing, which truly shows just how much she loves you as she usually always has to be the one dominating any conversation she's a part of. Sometimes you wonder if she ever really listens until she gets you something relating to your latest hyperfixation and then you're like "ah okay so she does care :D"

Honestly she's such a trashy mcbling y2k girly (canon, she told me herself) that I feel like she's the type of person to buy you stim/fidget toys and then help you 'bling' them out by gluing on fake rhinestones and such because "you can't just walk around with boring accessories"

Is she the type of person to tease you/make a bunch of sex jokes if you have an oral fixation? Yes. Will she start carrying around lollipops, gum, chew rings, etc. in her purse to give to you when you're feeling distressed in a public place? Also yes

Totally understands if you don't like/can't eat certain foods due to pickiness, especially if this is after her demon possession. She goes out of her way to make sure the pantry is stocked with your safe foods and all your favorite snacks for whenever you come over so you won't run out of them

She may not be the best at comforting you if you're in the middle of a meltdown/sensory overload or if you start crying (especially if it's over something small) but she tries her best to be gentle, not wanting to accidentally make things worse. If you need physical comfort then she'll gladly let you wrap your arms around her and get as close as possible, but if not then she'll stay a safe distance away while trying to cheer you up with words of encouragement

Absolutely hates ableist people. Hates and will eat them /hj. She can't stand when people make you feel bad for not understanding certain phrases or not being able to pick up on social cues

If you're ever confused on something then she takes the time to explain it to you, and yes this includes her sarcasm. She can't stop being sarcastic for anyone, including you (sorry) but she can make accomadations so you don't feel stupid or left out

Jennifer finds your stimming so adorable, especially if you do it when you're excited to see her. The fact that you get so happy you have to make a physical show of it just to get the extra energy out warms her cold, otherwise unfeeling and bitchy heart

If you're a really physically affectionate person then she one hundred percent welcomes it and allows you to touch her at literally any given moment no matter where you are. If not, then that's all the more reason for her to feel special and loved if you ever do give her, say, a hug, especially if you have an aversion to touch

Speaking of which, if there are any clothes of hers that you don't like because the texture of it bothers you/makes your skin crawl then she simply won't wear them around you, and might even get rid of them so you can feel more comfortable touching her. This includes making sure her bed always has the coziest pillows and blankets and comfiest sheets for whenever you spend the night

Overall I think Jen would love you no matter what personality quirks you may have regarding being autistic, and she would never fail to tell you just how much she loves you for them

Main masterlist | Jennifer's Body masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3

🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @corn3liiia @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous (if you were crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)

[joelsmochi]

honeypie - joel miller

summary: part 2 to honey (can be read as a standalone, doesn’t have much to do with the original plot!) warnings: not proofread, 18+, slight angst?, age gap (everyone is legal!!!!!), bickering/arguing, double date trope womp womp, degradation, dubcon, creampie, joel is a smidge misogynistic insecure and possessive wc: 2.6k a/n: this is mainly just some self indulgent yet rushed storytelling (so sorry, i wrote it in an hour because i was bored at work lol)! i wanna write a part 3 and actually include the beekeeping a little more but i have nooo idea how i’m gonna do it but we WILL get there one day babes!!! until then, enjoy this fluffy angsty sex 😽!!!💓

series masterlist | main masterlist

-

“If you guys are gonna bang when I’m in the house the least you could do is be quiet!” You heard Sarah shout from the other side of Joel’s bedroom door after banging on it.

Joel grimaced, his body tensing beneath you but you were almost oblivious to the complaints of your best friend. Almost.

You didn’t let up on your movements or noises whatsoever and as much as Joel loved those sweet little moans spewing from you as you humped against him, he loved his privacy much more especially when it came to his daughter.

You shook your head profusely when he attempted to get you to stop, insisting on how you were almost there.

“Soclosesoclosesoclose—just w-wait, I’m cu—fuck. Ahh, fuck, I’m cumming. Oh yes! Yesyesyesyesyes! Ohh—oh, my God—“

Joel covered your mouth with a clammy hand, feeling torn from his mixed feelings of lust and embarrassment.

Going downstairs didn’t help him feel any better either, especially when Sarah began berating you both, not that he blamed her for it.

“Call it payback for all the times I let you and your boyfriend have sex in my bed,” you retorted.

“In your bed?!” Joel mumbled to himself.

“Yeah yeah, could have at least waited until I was gone,” Sarah muttered.

“Sorry, Sar,” you hummed, “your dad is just really hot.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Come on, man.”

“I didn’t even know you were home,” Joel complained. “You’ve been with Jared or whatever his name is all week.”

Sarah’s squinted her eyes, annoyed by the lack of care from her father. “Alex. His name is Alex dad—see, I hate this!”

“Oh, by the way, Sarah,” you said, pattering behind the kitchen counter, “wouldn’t use the open jar of honey if I were you.”

“UGH! EW! Fucking ew!”

♡

“Other than the obvious,” Sarah mumbled, “how’s my dad taking care of you?”

You wore a bright smile and looked away from your reflection momentarily. Joel was… Joel. Rough around the edges but he was a genuine person, confident in the external reality but a little insecure. Not unbearably insecure though, just enough to make you know he was trying his best.

He wasn’t the most romantic but you figured it was just from him being out of the game for so long and you knew you could train him to be more romantic if it was needed.

He didn’t push you aside or make attempts to subtly suggest you needed to leave after sex either; he’d pout real big and give you those gorgeous puppy dog eyes until you held him. He loved making you laugh.

But it definitely still felt like just sex rather than a relationship. You weren’t particularly complaining, but you weren’t bragging about it either.

“Good,” you answered.

Sarah could tell from your tone how honest it was. Good meant great, happy, damn near perfect.

“Good. I’m glad,” she said. “I was worried he’d be like one of those incels that get real creepy and pervy after thirty-five.”

“No, no, he’s great,” you reiterated. “He’s very funny. Smart. He asks me to tan in my bikini while he’s working on the hive or the yard.”

You watched from the corner of your makeup coated eye how tightly she grimaced.

“Images. In head. Don’t want them there,” she dramatized.

“I have to hear every last detail about you and Al up to where he’s shoving your cervix into your stomach. You can deal with a little sexiness from us,” you said.

“It’s just so weird,” she whined.

“Do you want me to stop seeing him?” You asked.

You had slowly began to worry about how this would affect your best friend over time, you knew it was a weird situation. You had no issue cutting Joel off if it meant Sarah got to be happy. There were other men in the world, there weren’t other Sarah’s.

“No, God! No. It’s just not as simple as I was expecting. You know?” She explained kindly.

“Totally! I’d be weirded out if you were hooking up with my dad while I was across the hall. I’m not blaming you there, or anywhere for that matter. Just know you come first.”

“Well, yeah, who else is going to wax your back hair and not judge you for it?” She teased.

You rolled your eyes at her.

“Lots of men with weird fetishes.”

♡

“Can’t believe I agreed to this,” Joel huffed.

He adjusted the waistband of his jeans making his shoulder briefly flare. You let your mind wander while Joel complained about the double date you had arranged with Sarah and Alex. You were currently waiting in the parking lot for them to arrive.

“It’ll be fun. You’ll get to meet Alex and see he is a respectable man and you and I get to pretend we’re a couple for a few hours.”

“Pretend?” Joel questioned. “W-what do you mean pretend? Are we not together?”

“Uh, no?” You said.

Joel didn’t appreciate your amused reaction and questioned you a little more.

“You never asked me to be your girlfriend— you haven’t even taken me on a date,” you explained. “Did you really think that conversation wasn’t necessary?”

“So if we’re not together then what is this?”

You sucked your teeth before simply saying, “Sex.”

Once the four of you were inside Sarah and her boyfriend felt the tension between the two of you.

You watched Joel punch in all of your names into the keypad before pressing ‘start game’.

“So Alex, what do you do for work?” Joel asked.

“Oh, well right now I’m working at a café downtown, but I’m majoring in political science to become a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” Joel sounded impressed.

“Lawyers are great at communicating,” you antagonized. “They know what questions are… Important to ask.”

Joel rolled his eyes and motioned between you and the bowling balls. “Just go. Good God.”

“Dad, what did you do?” Sarah asked.

“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” He defended.

“Girl, what did he do?” She asked you.

Shrugging, you said, “I don’t know. Since Joel thinks he’s so great at communicating, maybe he should answer. I’m gonna go bowl.”

“Hope you gutter!” Joel shouted after you walked away. “She told me I needed to ask her to be my girlfriend.”

“You thought she was your girlfriend?!” Sarah said with wide eyes.

“Well… Yeah? Do I really need to verbally ask her that?”

“That’s why I got a strike, bitch,” you said while slapping the back of Joel’s head.

Sarah and Alex awkwardly stood up so that he could pretend to teach Sarah how to bowl properly. But the bickering between you and Joel didn’t end there.

“I thought it was obvious,” Joel told you. “I have you over all the time. We fuck. We laugh. Did I really need to ask?”

“So what would have happened if I pissed you off and you were to say ‘it’s not like you’re my girlfriend’?”

“I do not sound like that!” Joel scoffed. “And I would never do that to you, you know that. I just kinda figured you were mine, you know?”

You squinted at his unearned possession over you, feigning offense and scoffing obnoxiously.

“Yours? I’m not your property, Joel. You don’t get to claim me.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you goin’ to do about it? Fuck some other loser?”

You grinned, and immediately he regretted his words.

“That’s exactly what I’ll do,” you whispered.

Alex and Sarah sat back down and you asked if they wanted anything to eat or drink before walking away to go to the bar.

“Hi, what can I get for ya?” The boy at the counter asked.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen, why?”

“You see the older man on lane twelve?”

He looked and then nodded.

“Well, I wanna make jealous so if you could just smile and pretend to flirt with me I’ll give you ten bucks,” you explained with a sly smirk.

“Fifteen,” he negotiated.

“Ugh, fine. Can I get two lemonades, a beer, and a water please?”

“That’s not coming out of my tip, is it?” He questioned whilst punching the order into his screen.

“It will if you don’t start looking at my boobs,” you said through your faux smile.

You leaned onto the counter and gave the employee a clear view of your cleavage, which he seemed to appreciate very much.

But Joel wasn’t only focused on the teenage boy behind the counter, he noticed the numerous men gawking at your short shorts that showed off too much of your ass with you bent over the counter the way you were.

“Dad,” Sarah’s voice brought him back to reality. “Your turn.”

By the time Joel managed to spare you had returned with everyone’s drinks and Joel didn’t give you the satisfying reaction of jealousy like you’d hoped.

Wondering if you went too far, you drank a bit of Joel’s beer to imprint a lip gloss stain for Joel to taste in between sips. Something you noticed he loved to do over the past few weeks whenever he made you coffee or tea. You never finished your drinks and Joel always lined his mouth up with your lip print to taste you every chance he got.

And as you gave him the cheap plastic cup that held his beer, you watched as he habitually sipped right where your lips had been. Occasionally licking the rim of the cup before taking his next swig.

A couple of games later, you and Sarah managed to team up against the boys and kick their asses each and every frame. They sulked while you two gloated from the ending of the final game all the way back to the cars.

“Okay, okay. We get it, girls rule, boys lose,” Alex said.

“It’s boys drool,” Sarah corrected before turning to hug her father who placed a kiss on her forehead. “Night, dad. I’m gonna stay at Alex’s.”

“Okay, babygirl. Call me tomorrow.”

“Oh, and word of advice,” Sarah whispered after you got into Joel’s car. “Girls like what boys consider pointless communication. Take her out a few times, make her feel special, and ask her to be your girlfriend. She really likes you, she’s just making you earn it.”

Joel softly smiled and nodded. “Mmkay. Thanks.”

Once he got in the car he didn’t acknowledge you in the least bit, finally free to punish you for letting those men get a free show.

“Not a word?” You nudged his arm as he drove. “You could ask me now.”

He snickered, the most noise he’s made in the last ten minutes.

“You don’t get to just fucking claim me, Joel!”

Joel sped up before pulling into a rest area.

“Come’ere,” he hoarsely demanded.

He unclipped his seatbelt and began undoing his belt and jeans.

“Don’t get all fuckin’ shy on me now, girl. Come on.”

You hesitated but unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed into his lap; he moved his seat all the way back and pushed his jeans low enough for his cock to spring up and slap his belly.

Instinctively you reached for it, but he removed your hand from his hardening length and held your wrists tightly behind your back with one hand. Using his other hand to grab your face by your cheeks he forced you to look into his cold eyes.

“Do you not want to be with me?” His voice strained as he asked that, a hint of hurt glaring in his dark eyes.

“Of course I want to be with you,” you answered.

“I don’t play games,” he said, gripping your wrists even tighter. “Don’t fucking—“ A soft smack landed upon your cheek. “Don’t fucking do what you did tonight ever again. Get on your knees.”

He slightly shoved you back as he loosened his grip on your hands and face; you submissively sank to the rough carpeted floor of the car and he wasted no time pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail and shoving his fat dick into your wet mouth.

He tasted so fucking good, the mix of his clean flesh and salty precum like honey dripping onto your tongue. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned along his shaft as you eagerly bobbed your already hazy head up and down.

Joel’s hips rolled up in pleasure, gurgling out helpless moans as your nose rubbed the wiry hairs along the base of his shaft. Despite the aching and soreness, you loved having your throat full of Joel.

You took initiative and pushed against his hand, nonverbally telling him to make you suffer, and he shamelessly did so.

He couldn’t tell if the slick that was coating his balls was your spit or tears and he didn’t give a fuck. If you were going to show some loser teenager your tits and some loser bachelors your ass the least you could give him was some fucking remorse, right?

Joel felt powerful, in charge in ways he never experienced before. Your flooded eyes looked into his and saw how contorted his face was, so even if he was the one telling you what to do you knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

“Give me that fuckin’ throat, baby,” he moaned. “Oh, fuck! That throat is so fucking tight—mnh. God…damn baby. Feels so fucking good.”

He smacked your wet cheeks as encouragement before slowly pulling you off of his dick; you coughed at the gust of oxygen that flooded your lungs, giggling as he smacked his fat tip against your puffy mouth.

“Look at you, baby,” he whispered. “So pretty when my cock shuts that smart fuckin’ mouth a’yours up.”

“You love my fucking mouth,” you smugly said as you climbed into his lap.

“I do, but I think you forget what it’s supposed to be used for,” he whispered.

“You can stuff my mouth all you want, I’m still gonna give you a reason to use it.”

An eyebrow of his cocked up and a grin spread across his face at your confidence.

“Take your pants off,” he instructed seductively. His rough hands ran up your arms and back while you did what he said. “There you go,” he moaned when you slid down on his wet cock. “You’re such a good fucking slut for me, honey.”

“Just—just ask me, and I’ll s-say yes!” You shakily moaned as you relentlessly bounced on his dick.

Joel gripped your neck and began fucking into you from below, pushing deeper than he needed to, definitely bruising your cervix.

“You know you belong to me. All that fucking shit about claiming you and how I don’t own you, fuck was that?”

“Joe—elll, ugh!” You screamed into his chest, not sure if you were cumming or if your cunt was just overwhelmed with sensitivity. “Just ask, just ask baby I promise I’ll be good I’ll never misbehave again.”

He popped your ass and chuckled cruelly when you flinched and moaned. “Be my girlfriend, babydoll. Hmm? I want you to be my girl. You’re already my slut. Will you be my girl, babydoll?”

Your eyes gawked up at him and you couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged against your lips.

“Yes! Yes, yes, baby! Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

“Say it,” he begged. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours Joel! Fuckfuckyes I’m yours! I belong to you! I fucking belong to you!”

Joel felt the familiar deep stretch in the peak of his belly at your cries. He listened to you submit to him, let him claim you as his, ultimately marking his territory as he began to cum inside of your warm cunt.

“Thaaaat’s my good girl,” Joel growled as he fucked the last of his spend into you.

“Fuck,” you exhaled, climbing off of him. “You’re such an ass.”

He chuckled at this, the softness in his laughter coaxing a giggle from you.

“You love me,” he mumbled.

“Mmm, not quite,” you said as confidently as your tired body would allow.

“Oh, honeypie… You’ll get there soon enough.”

[pickledillytea]

Untouched

Photo credit: @/lesbeanlatte

Fan art that inspired fan fiction.

Untouched

~*~

Vi’s skin is soft, the softest thing you’ll ever get the privilege to touch. Despite it being made up of hard tendons and bulging muscles painted in intimidating permanently black marked mechanics and robot-like designs, Vi is anything but just brute force.

In fact, Caitlyn is the only one that sees through the tough exterior, sees past the chronic stiff posture, always ready to fight. It is rare if she finds Vi completely relaxed. When it’s just them however, Vi lets her guard down a little but really Caitlyn only sees the real Vi when she’s asleep, when she’s completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

Only then does Vi succumb to the comfort Caitlyn is trying to give her in this new life, only then does she temper down and let her body be. Caitlyn often wakes up before Vi for exactly this reason. She revels in the relaxed state of her lover; wishes she could offer her more of it, to tell her she can be herself now, but until then, Caitlyn only has these stolen moments.

Every morning she would look at the sleeping Vi, whether she’s on her back or facing Caitlyn or away from her, she admires every angle. Her fingers itch to touch every inch of Vi regardless of her peaceful dreams but Cait refrains, she lets Vi rest, deservedly so, on most occasions.

Today, Vi is turned away from her, the expanse of her back on full display while cast in soft hews from the still early morning sunlight slowly streaming through the sheer curtains. Cait traces the oil black cogs and gears with her eyes at first, memorising every swirl of the billowing smoke clouds that make up her tattoo, not that she hasn’t studied it in depth already but she finds something new every time.

The depiction is such a stark reminder of Vi’s past that Caitlyn’s heart aches, not for the first time, for the Zaunite and she wonders if that feeling will ever go away. The feeling to protect her from the world.

For some reason Cait feels especially overprotective of Vi this morning. She can’t help but slowly reach over, tracing the outline of the tattoo with her finger tip but never touching, not yet. She feels a tingling all the way down the extremity hovering over skin, memories of its previous encounters flashing through her mind which in turn has a visceral reaction on her body, her touch remembers all the moments. Cait yearns to press into her, to let the ink bleed into her touch and stain her skin, to melt into Vi wholeheartedly so that she can just have a little part of her forever marred into her flesh.

Not only does Cait feel protective of Vi’s body but she’s also very much attracted to it - drawn to it. Every contour of her body, every curve, every line, every defined muscle sensually pulls her in. The slow breathing of her torso, lifting, expelling and expanding of shoulders in slow succession distracts her from her initial task of ghost painting Vi’s tattoo and instead has her needy, wanting, aching. 

The hand that was suspended in the air, slips underneath the covers and Caitlyn reaches the place feeling neglected all of a sudden. She’s surprised to learn how wet she already is and Vi wasn’t even awake to have caused this effect on her. Just her mere presence alone had her in tethers. Cait slips her fingers between her own folds, a pool of wetness welcoming her at the base and she swallows the moan threatening to escape at the sensitivity of her cunt.

She gets lost in the feel of her fingers slowly moving up and down, collecting her own fast accumulating juices which she spreads over her hardening clit. This paired with watching Vi sleep peacefully, unbeknownst to her activities behind her back, somehow has her eager and panting already. Her hips slowly start to gyrate against the mattress, riding, rocking, rolling against her hand. The moan this time escapes before she can suppress it and Vi twitches. Cait stills, waiting to see if she woke Vi but sighs with relief when she doesn’t turn around, scolding herself at the slip.

Slowly she starts back up, a pulse quickening her ministrations. It wouldn’t be long now. She finds her pace and again focuses on Vi solely, the long pink hair she’s letting grow cascades down her defined back, sliding down her spine and it looks so soft. Cait has a sudden urge to run her fingers through the tendrils, pull at them while she plasters herself against Vi’s back. She imagines herself grinding into Vi’s well shaped ass that fits against her perfectly like a puzzle piece, bouncing back and forth and burying her nose in the back of Vi’s neck, consuming her while fucking herself harder.

Caitlyn jolts at the first sign of her pending orgasm shooting down her groin and hurries her administration, rubbing faster, messier and with abandon. The sound coming from her sopping cunt is sinful as hell and filling the room in stereo but she didn’t care about that right now, quiet be damned. She bites down on the pillow just as something snaps deep within her and then she convulses violently.

She lets her orgasm wash over her in wave after wave. She soothingly circles her clit, prolonging her orgasm until she can’t stand the stimulation and removes her soaking hand. Her skin now sweaty and covered with a light sheen of sweat is already cooling over her naked back. She waits for her heartbeat to even out too before she finally resurfaces for a much needed breath, a dark spot of her spit left behind on the pillow case.

For a moment she basks in the bliss, her body humming with pleasure. If only it had been Vi’s fingers fucking her. She shudders at the thought, contemplating whether she should wake up her still sleeping girlfriend and beg for a proper release. The thought of Vi’s deft fingers filling her up like only she knows how has her positively salivating and she clenches around nothing. The hell with it, she thinks and reaches over to touch Vi’s back in the hopes of waking her up but she pauses before ever reaching her destination.

“Having fun without me, Cupcake?”

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hi, I'm not sure if you requests are open but I'd like to ask for a Lucifer Morningstar x oblivious! fem! reader. He met her when he visited the hotel and was immediately intrigued when Charlie told him that she was a a fallen angel. Later on he decides to court her but she is oblivious to his advances. Fluff! Have a good day/night!

Too Sweet~

You were just so sweet and innocent, so kind and loveable. When in heaven, people compared you to an older version of Emily. Even though you had more life experience than the young Seraphim, you were still naive and careless about many things around you. From Adam’s insults and comments to even Sera’s darker tendencies, you saw nothing but the good in them all.

That's why you saw the good in her when Charlie came to Heaven to discuss her hotel with everyone. You saw the good in the program that she wanted to found. Unlike Emily, though, when Sera commanded you two to stop, you kept going, pleading with everyone to hear Charlie out. In turn, you were cast to hell with Charlie and Vaggie for insubordination.

Your appearance in Hell shocked most residents as you lay next to Vaggie and Charlie. A tall red man was grinning down at you, a cat-like creature had a grimace, and a spider was making a comical ‘O’ face. Sitting up with everyone as Vaggie went to explain to Charlie the hard news that was broken just before your fall, she was cut off by Charlie's overly nice voice. “Everyone listen up. The Hotel is in danger, and this poor angel Y/N was the only one on our side. She was cast down here with us after the news of Adam coming to attack in less than a month.” Surprise at your visit was quickly replaced with terror at the knowledge that the hotel was in danger. Charlie had locked herself in her room, tormenting herself with the knowledge that she had let everyone down. You, however, were being safeguarded by Vaggie. She intended to help Charlie as much as possible until she was ready to talk about everything, including keeping you safe from these sinners who walked amidst you. 

You liked everyone you met, though. Your first conversation with the spider named Angel Dust was entertaining enough. He got so confused and frustrated that you didn’t understand what he was saying to you. According to the cat Husk, you were just too innocent for Angel to handle. However, that didn’t stop a growing friendship between you three. They slowly taught you different things in hell, as you wouldn’t be returning anytime soon.

Against Vaggies best wishes, she allowed such a bond to form her, taking pity on your situation you still hadn’t fully grasped. You rivaled the naivety of even the snake demon Sir Pentious, leaving everyone, including him, to protect you. The only demon you weren’t a massive fan of in the hotel was the Radio Demon Alastor. He asked so many tough questions you couldn’t discuss about Heaven. He always had an odd smile, and everyone warned you never to make a deal with him, especially since your pure angelic soul would amount to so much for him in the overlord world. 

That’s why when Charlie came downstairs, Vaggie worried and yelling about the deal the Radio Demon and her made. You felt so guilty since you knew Vaggie wasn’t there to protect Charlie, and you had Vaggie's attention solely on making sure you didn’t mess up. Guilt ate you up, so while Vaggie went and talked to a woman named Camilla and Charlie left with the Radio Demon to speak to his friend, you led the charge building defenses for the hotel. 

You had seen the Exorcists work before; you even trained with them a handful of times, seeing as Adam wanted you a part of his team. The only thing that stopped your addition to the Exorsits was that you were a gentle soul that could never kill. You would do what you must to protect your new family. You helped board up windows, aligned Sir Pentious's weapons for him, and even found some hidden weaponry in the hotel.

You may be oblivious and naive, but Adam gave you one thing in Heaven: warrior skills. With that said, as Vaggie returned from Camillas with a new spark in her eye, you were eager to learn from Vaggie how to take down your brethren. You believed in Charlie's dream and would not allow it to falter because of Sera or Adam. 

As Vaggie was training you and the other hotel residents to fight, a stampede of new sinners joined in, led by Charlie. With these numbers, you might stand a chance against the battle soon. You were so happy to see Charlie and Vaggie whole once again; it didn’t even register in your mind what sick joke Angel made about their ‘last night’ together. 

The execution day was upon you all, and the battle was fierce and intense; you gave it your all, fighting those you once saw as sisters. Your angelic wings allow you to fight high in the sky with them. That is when you saw another gorgeous angelic creature. It wasn't an executioner or Adam. It was someone far more beautiful, with six bright white wings and deep red feathers underneath. In your awe-struck moment, you almost missed a fatal blow from an exorcist. 

The fight ended with the beautiful creature you soon figured out was Lucifer, having shown kindness to Adam. Though the little demon Niffty ended him, you were still impressed with his grace and poise. He was one of the Archangels now fallen and ruler of hell. Your face was warm seeing him in his glory. As you guys tallied your dead and helped Charlie recover, you kept feeling your eyes drift to the king of hell.

You had never seen someone so beautiful and angelic, even in his demon form. You wanted to ask him many questions, but your fear of being weird or crazy overtook you. Sticking to Husk and Angel's sides, you helped with the rebuilding process, and your wings also gave you an advantage in the rebuilding stage. However, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone's eyes were also trained on you. 

Once the hotel was rebuilt and everything was said and done, Charlie took the time to introduce you to Lucifer. “Okay, dad, this is Y/N. She came from heaven with me and Vaggie after our meeting, which led to this. As you can tell, she is also a fallen angel.” The look on Lucifer's face was akin to fear and disgust in your mind. You didn’t mean to offend him with your presence. Suddenly, you felt self-conscious and excused yourself to return to Husk and Angel's party at the bar. While you walked away, Lucifer noted your wings and looks. He wasn’t disgusted by you; quite the contrary, he thought you were beautiful and worthy of heaven, not this place.

Lucifer took up Charlie's offer to move into the hotel. Not only to help out and gain more Sinners but also to be closer to you. The only problem was you couldn’t be any denser. He tried talking to you many nights sitting at the bar, yet you were so involved in Angel and Husk’s stories that he couldn’t get a word in. By the time the two would call it a night and head to bed, he would be too drunk to speak to you coherently, leading to you walking him up to his room and helping him get rest.

You were so oblivious and nice. He loved that about you, though. You always saw the good in everyone, and Charlie appointed you as a hotel therapist. As Sinners came to be redeemed, you could sit with them and talk about what they needed to do to heal. You could find the good in even Alastor, and that was impressive in and of itself. As Alastor noticed the king's interest in you growing, he couldn’t help but play games with the king's head. 

This would lead to countless heated battles that had you and Charlie seperating the two so they didn’t destroy the new hotel. You always took Lucifer's side and helped calm him down while Charlie took Alastor's. Charlie had 100% not planned this at all since she, too, noticed her father's growing interest in you. She is eager to see her father move on and be happy again. 

One fight led to a particularly rough love confession that led to an entire-blown relationship. After Alastor had paraded you around hell all day, Lucifer was boiling; how could you not see that Alastor was just using you to flaunt status? If anyone should have you on their arm walking around, hell, it was him. Thus, the battle between the two started. “Alastor, just what do you think you are doing taking the hotels Angel out on the town.” “AHAHA Lucifer, you make no sense. Angel is right over there, not on the town,” Static filled the area from his joke as a laugh track played. “You know precisely what I am talking about, tall and freaky. Y/N shouldn’t be going out there. It is dangerous for her.” You could practically see his horns protruding. 

“Oh, little man, I fear there is some jealousy coursing through you. Are you just mad she will humor me and my time while giving you nothing?” The static grew louder, and Alastors' smile only grew wider.

Slowly, you pulled yourself off Alastor's arm and made your way between the two. “Excuse me to the both of you; I can make my own choices, thank you very much. I may be naive and still learning, but if I am to be stuck here in hell forever, I want to know all that I can so I don’t end up hurt. Alastor, as much as I appreciate your time, you will stop antagonizing Lucifer immediately. Lucifer, if you want to take me out so bad, just do it.” Your eyes were fierce when you looked at both men. 

Alastor smirked and made his way to his tower, knowing your power as an angel had passed him, even in your innocent mind. Whereas Lucifer stared at you, shocked. You just asked him out; you asked him to take you out on the town. He was smiling from ear to ear, so happy at this admission. Your confused face, however, quickly altered his excitement.

“Luce? What is wrong? I am sorry if I was too mean.” Your words were so kind; maybe that hurt him the most. Knowing you didn’t mean it. You didn’t want him to take you out cause you liked him. You were just trying to defuse the situation. He felt his face drop, and he hung his head. Getting ready to go back to his room to wallow in self-pity, he felt two dainty arms wrap around him. “I didn’t mean to upset you; I am so sorry…” Your words cut him like a knife. He wished he was strong enough just to say it, not hidden in his guilt and depression over losing everything once. Yet your warm grasp and soft voice lit something deep within him. Slowly, he turned around in your embrace, pulling you firmly into him. 

“Y/N, you injure me so. You were flaunting your friendships with the others. Being so kind and charismatic with all that come and go from our home. How do you hold my heart as tight as you do when I swore off so long ago, loving once again?” He hoped you heard him well. He hoped you understood his plight and that he loved you. His heart sank at your words as he felt your arms tighten around him. “Oh, Luce, we are friends. I love being your friend more than anything. I am sorry if my yelling made you think otherwise. I will refrain from going out with Alastor as much.” How could you be so oblivious but so majestic and beautiful simultaneously? He pulled you away, looking into your eyes. Your faces were only a few inches apart.

“No, Y/N, listen to me, listen to the words I am saying. I love being your friend, too, but I love you. I want to be more than friends or best friends. I want to spend our infernal days locked here in hell as one. I thought I would only love Lilith and never overcome her love. However, as the seven years of her absence went by, I learned that the love I had then was long gone. That's when I saw you that day fighting Adam and the Exorcists. You are beautiful and light, and everything good I once wanted to share in the world with mortals. Please, Y/N, hear me when I say you are more Angelic than even I, and I love that about you. I love you.” He was red in the face. He hadn’t wanted his confession to be like this. He didn’t want it to be in the middle of the lobby.

Your eyes were wide as he saw your mind trying to process everything. A silent hush fell on the room. That is when he saw the most beautiful thing he had ever seen: your warm, bright smile directed at him and him alone. Soon, your arms were around his neck as you kissed his cheek, his face growing more red.

“I love you too, Lucifer; I didn’t know you had these feelings. I know I am a bit slower than others, especially because of my upbringing in heaven. I would love to live by your side, though. Everything makes so much more sense now why Charlie had been pushing me to spend time with you and all of Angel's jokes at the bar.” You had a lilt in your voice and a soft, breathy laugh at the end. He added everything to the list of lovely characteristics that made you what you are. He smiled wide and pulled you into him. “You missed.” As you went to question him, your voice died on your tongue as he placed his lips upon yours. The kiss was sweet, tasting like sugar and honey. The most divine thing either one of you had experienced. Some claps and wolf whistles let out as the lobby was filled with the inhabitants cheering you two on. This only fueled Lucifer's pride as he dipped you, causing a brief squeak to leave your lips before he claimed them once again. 

What could he say? Kissing you was just too sweet.

[baby-tini]

can you do a part 2 of stalker hamna where reader is still oblivious to everything happening and has a crush on him because of how “nice of a friend” he’s being to her?

TW- Noncon, delusional behavior, creep behavior, stalking, stealing, manipulation

-He's managed too grow much closer to you, under the false pretenses of "friends" and it's never been easier for him too carry out his dirty little past times. He gets even more nastier with the things he does now that he can use the "friends" tittle and sweet, precious you, you're none the wiser, you never question the disgusting things he asks of you.

-You've made having access to your house so much easier for him, he doesn't even have too break in anymore, not when you're constantly inviting him over. He doesn't even have too steal your things anymore, not when you're letting him borrow your things, of course... he feels oh so very bad when he sees the sad look in your eyes when he tells you that he's lost the very thing you let him borrow.

-He was beyond ecstatic when you asked for a sleep over from him. You just sometimes make this too easy for him. He had you sleeping right beside him, your chest rising and falling so gently, without a care in the world, and he takes advantage of that, well.. more of you then anything. As one of his hands slips into his pants as the other slips into your panties.

-His fingers rubbing up and down your cunt as his other hands jerks his cock. It gives him this sick sense of pleasure, but he, like with most things, quickly grows tired of just touching you, he needs too taste you.. so he does. Slipping down under the covers as he pulls your panties to the side... you're so nasty, you were just asking for this when you only went to bed in just a shirt and panties.

-His thumbs spreading the lips of your cunt as he leans closer to your core, licking a fat strip of your core all the way up to your clit, the little nerve twitching under his tongue, he knew you wanted this all along. One of his hands going back down too his leaking cock, running a hand over the sensitive head he sucks on your clit, the bud pulsing on his warm tongue as his stomach clenches.

-He gets tired of doing things in secret, it's no longer fun for him, and he's always been good at playing things off. So, when you ask him why your dirty panties, left in the bathroom after your shower, has conditioner on them... he's never gotten so hard before in his life. He doesn't know if you're just playing dumb too avoid an obvious problem of his, or you're really just... not the smartest. Either way though, he really doesn't care because if you are playing dumb, he'll just see how far he has too go to get you too quit it or if you really are just... not entirely there.. well, that's even better for him.

-He likes using your things, it makes him feel like you guys are even closer, like you're even more his as he uses your toothbrush or as he cums on the loofa that you use, the thought of this little piece of stringy material having been all over your body... especially your cunt, leaves him in a frienxie as he jerks off to the thought of you using it after he leaves his nasty little gift on it. Especially when you blow it off as just something simple as left over soap.

-He purposely takes your comfy clothes when you sleep at his house, he knows what it'll lead to, and you've never failed his expectations, just like now, when you ask for a pair of his sweats after you get tired of the chilly air in his apartment, you would ask for him too turn it off, but he had told you it was broken, so you don't really see the point.

-You've never really questioned the shrine of you that he has, you just thought it was so sweet that he has so many pictures of you in his house, in his living space he has pictures of you. That just proves to you how much he cares for you, none of your other friends have this, and that just makes your "little" crush on him even bigger.

-He really uses the friend thing to his advantage as he lays in your bed, as he asks you too suck his cock. That.. leaves you in a haze of confusion, that he quickly clears up with the friend word, stating that a girl has never sucked his cock before, which is a lie, because that's all he lets girls do, having them take his cock down their throat as he pictures you, but you'll never know that and you don't know that. So when he asks, you agree, he's always so nice to you as he brings you the sweetest gifts, so sure, you can return the favor by shoving your tight little throat down his cock as he runs a hand through your hair, you don't mind.