#I can see him having a weighted blanket before he replaced it with the reader and soap.

[starogeorgina]

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of child death, blood, oral sex, mentions of cancer, age gap

1.01

Thank you @justinalovee for the pretty header

Exhausted, you snuggle up on the faded green couch, your freezing feet covered by worn-out socks and a wooly blanket. The sound of gunfire and screams in the distance is muffled by the heavy rainfall battering against the windows. Settled down, you open the romance book you found a few days prior while savaging and opening it. The pages were ripped and stained, but it would be an escape from reality, one that you desperately needed. A few hours later, you're so engrossed in the story that the sound of the door of your apartment creaking open catches you off guard.

You glance up, your heart racing, as you see a shadowy figure enter. You reach for the handgun sitting on the side table and aim it at the person. “Take one more step, and I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

“Shit, it’s y/n, right?”

You almost shoot the intruder, but don't when you sense a familiarity about them, it was Tess’s partner in crime. “Texas, ain’t it?”

“You can call me whatever you want once you've lowered the gun.” Relief washes over you, but it's quickly replaced by irritation when he dangles a key on the edge of his finger. “Tess gave it to me. She told me to let myself in.”

You lower the gun and place it into the holster on your belt, then get up and snatch the key from him. “Mind telling me why she gave you the key to our home?”

He rolls up his sleeve, showing you the deep cut on his arm. “Tess said you could help patch me up... I can go—”

Of course Tess sent him to you; she had a tendency to volunteer you as a first aider for her criminal buddies. Scoffing, you grip his arm to get a better look at the wound. “It’s deep; you’ll need stitches. I don’t have any numbing cream left, so it’s going to hurt like hell.”

“I can survive a little bit of pain.”

—

As you carefully clean the wound on Joel's arm with a damp cloth, you can't help but feel the weight of responsibility on your shoulder. Your medical supplies were starting to run low, and with more bombings happening than before, you’d definitely need to get some more soon.

And Tess sending strays to your door wasn’t helping.

Joe winces as you gently probe the wound, his muscles tensing under your touch. He looks at you with eyes filled with gratitude and a touch of pain. He holds a torch with his free hand so you can see what you are doing without drawing attention to your apartment with a brighter light on.

“I don't know how to thank you,” he says hoarsely.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Tess is always looking for supplies to bring back to you. I’m guessing you worked in medicine before.”

“This is going to hurt,” you say, before punctuating the first bit of flesh on his arm with the tiny needle. “You smuggle guns and drugs with my sister, right?”

Joel grits his teeth and nods. “I usually just smuggle guns or other weapons.”

“Me and Tess have both picked up extra work over the next couple of weeks. If I write a list of things I need, would you be able to get them for me?”

When he doesn’t respond, you look up and see how tightly his hand is squeezing around your torch. Sighing, you take the torch from his free hand and pop it between your lips. The last thing you needed was him breaking it. A few moments later, you’re finished, and you tie off the ends of the stitches.

“Fuck!” Joel lets out a noise of relief. “That hurt more than I thought it would.”

“Meaty part of the body,” you shrug.

Joel studies the stitches in his arm for a few seconds, then carefully rolls his sleeve back down, then stands. “I'm burning infected in the morning, but you can slide the list underneath my door, Tess can give you my address. I’ll try and get what you need on my next supply run.”

“Cool. You can let me know how many ration packs I owe you once you’ve got them.”

—

Soon as you walk into your apartment, you peel your top that’s sticking to your body with sweat over your head. You sniff it before tossing it onto the heap of dirty clothing on the floor. You glance over at Tess, who is watching with an amused expression on her face.

“What?”

“Expecting it to smell like roses, huh?”

“I smell of sweat, smoke, and death.” You walk by her and into the small kitchen to start boiling a pot of water. “Anything else you want washed?”

Tess shakes her head. Washing was a luxury you didn’t always have, but since the generator was working in your building, you’d take advantage of the opportunity while it was there. Once the water was boiled, you’d pour it into the bathtub, wait for it to cool down, then clean your hair and body, then wash the pile of dirty clothes. The color the bath water would turn afterwards would no doubt turn your stomach.

“Joel stopped by earlier,” she says, holding the cup of shitty coffee close to her lips and breathing in its smell. “He dropped off a couple of first aid kits.”

“Thank god, I had hardly anything left.” You open the door to the cupboard you keep your ration packs hidden behind a slab of wood. “What did he want for it?”

“Nothing.”

You snap your head up to face her. Nobody does anything for free these days. “Come again?”

“He says your square for stitching him up.”

“Oh, that’s good,” you say.

A small smile pulls on your lips; at least you got to hold onto your ration packs for a little longer.

“What’s with the blood?”

You look down at your stomach and see the dried-in red patches. “It’s not mine. A couple of FEDRA soldiers got into a scuffle, so instead of getting a real medic, they asked me to clean them up. Nothing major, just a broken nose and burst lip.”

She chuckles. “I did try to warn you that this would happen. You made your own bed the moment you spilled on working in a hospital in your past life.”

—

As you carefully clean the wound on Joel's knee, you can't help but notice the tension between him and Tess. When you arrived home, the two of them were arguing, but all you overheard was Joel saying your sister was getting greedy, and she thought he needed to toughen up.

Tess was already a teenager when you were born, so growing up, you idolized her and have never seen her as anything other than fearless, so hearing her say Joel needs to be tougher made you question what the hell they were up against.

The threats within the quarantine zones have been getting worse lately; the firefly attacks have increased, and with the sounds of screams echoing through the walls of your apartment building, you assume one of the men who died in the bombing a few hours before was important to someone in your building. Tess was now pacing the room, her face drawn with worry. She keeps glancing at the window, as if she can see beyond the grimy glass to the dangers lurking outside. You can tell she's afraid, but she won't admit it.

Not yet anyway.

Sitting cross-legged on the ground to get a better look at Joel’s wound, you casually ask, “So what did you cut yourself on this time, Texas?”

“Cut it on barbed wire.”

“Trying to jump a fence or—“

“Don’t,” Tess hisses. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

She was right to an extent; you didn’t really want to know what lawbreaking your sister was doing; it would only keep you awake at night worrying about her. But a part of you wanted to know how Joel was involved. You wanted to know more about their relationship and if it was platonic or something more.

—

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Although you lived with Tess, you hadn’t seen much of her over the past few weeks. One of you had either been working or sleeping while the other was home. The two of you moving the bodies of the dead from the back of a truck into the fire pit was the most time you’ve spent together in a while.

“Ask away.”

“What’s going on between you and Texas? Are you guys sleeping together?”

She scoffs, her nose scrunches up with disgust. “Of course not. I don’t mix business and pleasure.”

“Fair enough.”

The air reeks of smoke and ash as you heave another corpse onto the pile. Its limp form hits the ground with a heavy thud, sending up a cloud of gray dust into the air. The acrid smell of burning flesh fills your nostrils, making your stomach turn. You readjust the bandana covering your nose to try and keep the smell out, but it has little effect. You’d definitely need to scrub hard later to try and remove the smell of death from your skin.

Tess stares at you intensely. “Y/n...”

“I was just asking because he’s always at our place. I didn’t know if you two were fucking or planning different ways to dig yourselves deeper graves.”

In the blink of an eye, Tess is standing in front of you. She pulls her own bandana down so there’s nothing muffling her voice. “Let me be clear: I value Joel; he’s a good friend. He’s the guy you want around when shit goes down, but he’s not a good person. Me, and him have both done unthinkable things to stay alive.”

“He’s the muscle; you're the brain.”

She nods slowly, “something like that. I don’t know Joel’s full story; he’s reserved. And he can stick his dick wherever he likes as long as it doesn’t interfere with our business.”

Before you can say anything else, another truck loaded with bodies pulls up. “Oh shit, it looks like it’s going to be a double shift.”

—

Joel appears at your apartment a few nights later, with an unopened bottle of whisky in his hand. “I heard you had a shitty day.”

Without saying anything, you open the door, letting him in. Tiredly, you rub at your eyes before getting two glasses from the cupboard. Joel opens the bottle and then pours the whisky into the glasses. You assumed the news of what happened earlier in the day affected him as well.

Licking at your lips, you mumble, “It doesn’t matter how tough you are; the death of kids is always hard.”

He takes a massive gulp before slamming his glass onto the table and pouring himself another. “Fuck, yeah.”

You go over to the couch, zip open one of the cushion covers, and pull out a packet of cigarettes. “Want one?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Neither do I, usually.”

You pull out one cigarette, then tuck the packet away again. You only ever smoked while stressed. “Five kids, five fucking kids lives gone within seconds.”

A bomb was supposed to be planted underneath the death square where they hang criminals, but something had gone wrong, and the firefly transporting the weapon set it off early, killing himself and anyone in close proximity, including five innocent children.

Sometime passes before you finally speak again. “Tess told you about Michael, didn’t she?”

Joel nods as he comes and sits beside you. “She mentioned you had a son who died.”

“Michael was diagnosed with leukemia when he was two; he died just before his sixth birthday.”

“I’m sorry.”

You take another shot of your drink and say, “He’s the reason I became a pediatric nurse.“

“What about his dad?”

“Probably dead,” you snort. “Paddy, my high school sweetheart, didn't like the idea of being a teen dad to a sick kid so bailed.”

“That’s shit.”

You sink further into the couch. “What about you Texas? What’s your story?”

“I’m going to need a whole lot more liquor for that.”

—

You and Joe huddle close together in the dimly lit room, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the walls. The whisky was going down far too nicely, as Joel told you how he married his ex when he found out she was pregnant, but after his daughter was born, his wife left one day, and he didn’t hear from her again until she sent him divorce papers. Joel’s daughter, Sarah, died at the start of the outbreak after being shot by a soldier.

“Who knew we had so much in common?” you whisper, your voice hoarse from the cheap whiskey. “But at least we don’t ever need to see our assholes ex’s again.”

A dark chuckle passes his lips. “You’re just always looking for that silver lining.”

As you both finish your drinks, you lean in closer to Joel, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You close your eyes and imagine a different world, one where the outbreak never happened.

—

As the months went on, Joel would visit you more frequently; sometimes he had alcohol, other times he brought dinner. You tried not to look too much into the fact that he mainly came at night when Tess was on shift. Although he still spent time with her smuggling various items, he also liked spending alone time with you.

Tonight was different though, it was the first time you gave into temptation. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss as you straddle Joel’s waist, tongues tangling as you both lose yourself in the moment. The tension between you has been building for far too long, and tonight you both have just enough adrenaline and whisky pumping through your bodies to give into your desire for one another. Your hands roam over his body, exploring every inch of skin you have access to. Your thighs are left bare as the long t-shirt you wear to bed rides up, Joel’s fingers dig into your soft flesh as he grinds up against you. The sound of your heavy breathing fills the room, mingling with the soft sound of the wind howling outside.

You pull back for a moment to catch your breath, locking eyes with each other.

You lean in to kiss him again, but Joel gently pushes you off his lap and sits you back onto the couch. At first, you take this as a rejection until he starts kissing down your neck. He slowly gets onto the ground and kneels between your legs, his eyes fixed on yours, as he slowly pulls down your pants. You gasp as his hot breath teases your sensitive flesh, and then puts his mouth on your cunt. His tongue circles your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You arch your back, unable to contain the moans escaping your lips.

Joel lightly slaps at your thigh and smirks. “You gotta be quiet; I can’t have you waking the neighbors now.”

The cocky smile on his face turns you on even more. You throw your head back, letting out a long, low moan as Joel's tongue teases your sensitive flesh. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he devours you. The world outside your rundown apartment fades away, replaced by the intense pleasure coursing through your body as Joel gives you the first of many orgasms that night.

[wxnheart]

idea for Ghoapbusters because your last post reminded me of one of my headcanons:

Simon having a PTSD episode, and needs a lot of pressure when these situations happen. And Simon is a bear of a man, so he’d need a lot of it. But even then, sometimes it did work and he’d have to ride it out. But after he got together with you and johnny? He found his solution. He has you and soap lay directly on him and he’s never calmed done from an episode so fast. It’s because the weight combined with physical touch and your smell that calm him down so fast. It’s home to him. When he feels you, and smells your shampoo and soaps cologne, he knows he’s not with Roba, or his father, or back in any other one of his traumatic missions.

He’s at home, safe in his lover’s arms

Home. Simon is home. Safe and secure and loved and—oh fuck, he's loved.

He's all this, things he never expected to be, and doesn't know what the fuck to do with himself. So he works purely on instinct.

Simon tightens his hold around you two and yeah, he's home.

[oreo-creampie]

“𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! Sukuna is mean, Monster fucking, breaking and entering (reader is aware he is coming), somnophilia, choking, hints of masturbation, choking, manhandling, huge huge huge size kink that swings both ways, let’s say Sukuna’s monster cock can fit cause I say so, light pain kink, degradation/taunting/hints of praise if you count being called a slut in bed rewarding (which I do but to each their own), pussy slapping, pinching your clit once, mentions of a toy that he licks once to see if it still tastes like you what can I say he is a nasty fucker,

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! ❛ there’s so many things i wanna do to you.❜ + sukuna

𝟏𝟑𝐤 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Fey; monster fucking with sukuna always hits just right but when you add consented to somnophilia + breaking and entering

Sukuna slowly pulls your curtains back, the full moon illuminates you bedroom well enough. He grabs your blanket and gentle peels it off, bunching it at the bottom of the bed.

The inhuman toy cock next to you catching his attention. It’s thick but yet it still pales in comparison to his’ own. It’s hot that you have something like this to occupy your time when he is away.

Did he ruin normal men for you? He hopes so. He wants your sloppy cunt to crave his inhuman cocks.

Sukuna picks the toy up and licks it, tasting your sweet cunt. Swirling his tongue around it’s tip. He considers triple stuffing you, but which hole should he shove it in?

You roll onto your back and stretch your arm out, seeking your blanket. Promptly giving up when you didn’t immediately find it. You’re in the perfect position for Sukuna to play with you.

Making quick work of his sweats, his shirt having ripped off when he transformed before he broke into your house. Something you’ll have to pay for.

He carefully climbs onto the bed, towering over you, giving him a thrill. Comparing himself to you, you’re so small, weak and vulnerable, perfect for manhandling and stuffing his cock into.

Whimpering in your sleep, “Sukunnn..” Your soft cunt quivers around his thick fingers. You’re so wet, soft and tight around him. Licking your soft clit with his hand’s tongue. Whilst slowly spreading your legs apart.

You furrow your brows, and slowly open your eyes. “Whaaann?” He bites your thigh when you try to close your legs. Using his weight to force your smaller, soft body into a mating press.

He accusing you, “You’re a brat, there wasn’t a window or door unlocked for me.” Roughly smacking your soft wet cunt.

You whine, “I know!” Another harsh slap, and he glided his thick fingers in, licking your clit. You mewl, “Nnn you can pick the lock!” His fingers and tongue is magical on your cunt. Your thighs trembles, toes curl and your cunt is soaking his hand.

Sukuna looks down at you, “You got tighter, does it turn you on thinking about me wanting your sloppy cunt so badly I’d break in for it?”

He glides his fingers out, smacking your cunt whilst crooning. “What a depraved slut!” Pinching your soft clit, smirking when you cry. You’re so helpless in his large hands, it’s so easy for him to manhandle and fuck you as he pleases.

“I’m your depraved monster cock loving slut.” Sukuna stuffs his hand’s thick tongue in your soft aching cunt. Squeezing your throat, fondling your breast, switches between sucking and biting.

He fondles your soft breasts, sucking on your nipple. “Let’s see how much my cum my cocksleeve can take before falling back asleep.” Replacing his soft tongue with his long thick fingers stretching your cunt out.

He insists, “There are so many things I wanna do to you.” He loosens his grasp on your throat. “How long do you think you can keep me entertained for?” Gliding his fingers out, smearing your slick on his cock.

“I dunno I’m sleepy, but you can keep fucking me even after I pass out.” He’s monstrous, towering over you, nudging your soft cunt with his fat cock.

You winch when he rolls his hips forward, giving you just the tip. His cock above it, rubs your soft clit. You whine reaching down, splaying your hands above his stomach’s mouth. He grabs your wrist, raising it above your head tightening his grasp around your neck.

Sukuna lifts you bed, sinking you down on his cock. Your head reaches his chest, tilting your head back Sukuna makes you look up at him.

He sneers ,“Since you already had fun without me I don’t have to stretch you out right? I can have my fun, use your soft little cunt how I want.” Pressing your smaller body to the wall, you’re so helpless.

He smirks, “This is the kind of perverted shit that gets a monster fucker like you off isn’t it?” Sukuna is beating your pussy up, making her squelch and your toes curl.

You clench your cunt and his smirk drops with a loud groan. “Stupid little brat with your dumb little cunt.”

all works

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-one —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3.5k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

The last bed you laid in smelled like lemon mint detergent. It was the full bed in your sister's guest room. Everything was crisp and white. They rarely had guests besides you. Some of your clothes stayed in that closet, one of your toothbrushes stayed in the connected bathroom, waiting for your visits. You'd awaken that last morning not thinking you'd never sleep in bed for another five years. You left it unmade.

This bed smells like pine and warmth.

Ghost's room is small and dimly lit. The ceiling slants so that one end is not tall enough for him to fully stand. There's a dresser and a nightstand, leaving only a sliver of floorspace.

After the metal latch on the door clicks shut, Ghost lays the blanket down and grabs a pillow for himself. That leaves the bed to you. Springs creak beneath your weight as you silently slip under a heavy, rustic quilt. The years-embedded scent of him wraps around you like a drug-induced fog. You hesitate to move, frozen as he flicks off the light. You wonder if he always locks the door or did it for you, to make you feel safer.

Only when his moving about ceases do you allow yourself to get comfortable. You cocoon your body under the quilt and turn to your side, closing your eyes.

A thought reopens them minutes later. You roll onto your back and speak into the darkness. "Have you known about this Switzerland place?"

For a moment, you think he's already asleep. Then, from below the bed by your feet, he says, "Heard of it."

"That is what you guys talked about, isn't it?" you ask absentmindedly.

"Among other things."

You sit up so you can see him, but all that you can make out is a dark shadow. "Care to share?"

"Some things are on a need-to-know basis," is all he gives.

"And I don't need to know?"

"Precisely."

It stings; you don't know why. "Some team we make, huh? Or I guess we're only a team when you need me to do something for you."

You quickly realize how petulant you must sound. The shadow sits upright. "They asked me to go with them. I said no. Too far. Too many variables that are hard to predict, and she's not ready for them. Happy?"

Happy—no, but relief replaces the slight uncertainty in your gut since your conversation with Nereida. Joining them was shut down. You wouldn't tell her, but their idea sounds asinine, whether or not that commune exists. The trip will be risky at best, fatal at worst. You're tempted to ask him how many days he thinks they'll recoup here before continuing their journey, but opt for sleep instead. He seems done with the conversation, too, lying back down. Then, you have the best sleep you've had in years in his bed.

When the sun turns pink, you awaken to a room void of Ghost. He's gone. It should be expected, but you'd thought he might wake you up to train like normal. Though, the past twenty-four hours haven't been normal. You look around, the details of his room more visible now. On the nightstand, there is a stack of books and you scan the titled spines. Mostly classics. One Hemingway. All tattered and read frequently. Beside them lays a silver chain attached to a dog tag. You gently finger the engraved metal so as not to move it out of place: Simon Riley. 

Snooping through his things is more tempting than you're willing to admit. You slip out of bed, socked feet padding over to the dresser. There are mostly papers. His map with the marked circle around what you now realize is Switzerland, a notepad with scribbled half-cursive on it, and then a faded photo beneath it. You freeze, breath hitching, as if you've done something dangerous just by stumbling upon it. Curiosity is thick in your chest, difficult to ignore. Gentle fingers reach to shift it out, revealing a picture that you know right away is of Blue and her mom. Blue is a baby. Maybe one year old. A woman with light brown hair holds her up, sitting on a bench in front of a playground. She's pretty and young. There is a sadness when you wonder if this is the only picture he has of them—before her death. Then, there is another feeling. You swallow it. 

You quickly slip the photo back just the way you found it and leave the room. The living room is quiet, people still sleeping. Price and Kyle's blankets are empty, but Kyle is the only one you spot outside. He sits on a tree stump, using a knife and some soap to shave his beard. He looks at you the moment you step outside.

"Good morning." He splashes a scoop of water on his smoothed jaw. 

You tuck your hands in your pockets. "Morning."

Without the facial hair, he looks even younger. Maybe in his early thirties. He pushes to his feet and you are reminded of his above-average height, though he is not as monstrous as Ghost. His form is lean, all muscle, with much less ink on his exposed skin. It is now you notice a scar across his jaw. Thick but faded. It trails halfway down his neck.

"Do you know where Ghost went?" you ask.

"Working on that truck of his. With Price."

A glance over your shoulder confirms it; you spot some movement behind the cabin where you know his truck sits. Guess that means no training. You nod. "So, um, you were in the military together, right?"

He takes a moment to look at you before answering. "Yeah. Same unit. Price was our captain."

"I kind of figured. He is... captain-y."

"'Captain-y.' Good way of putting it."

You're ready to turn away when he asks, "I hate to pry, but I admit I'm curious how you ended up here with him."

You force a smile. "It's not a very interesting story, sorry."

"I'm not looking for entertainment."

"What are you looking for, then?" You sound more defensive than you mean to. 

He shrugs. "Just curious, is all. You're a bit young."

"I'm not fucking him if that's what you're getting at." His brows lift to his hairline, and you're almost embarrassed for assuming that is what he was thinking, but before he can speak you add, "And you're young, too. I can handle myself just as you can."

"Of course." He shakes his head, moving his hand over his chest in earnest. "I apologize if I insinuated otherwise. Though, I am older than you."

"How old?"

"Let's see. Thirty-one last November. Or maybe it's just thirty. Hard to keep track, innit?" His smile is more genuine than yours, flashing white teeth. Then, his face turns more serious and he sighs through his nose, head tilting. "Look, I understand."

"Understand what?"

"I don't know your story, but I'm sure it is a gruesome one, and you have every right to feel uncomfortable. We'll be out of your hair soon enough. I appreciate you having us, though."

You want to tell him it's not like you have a choice; you're not the host here. But he already knows that. He's trying to be nice. "Thank you," you tell him honestly. 

Kyle bends to pick up his knife, wiping it off on his shirt. "So what did you need Ghost for?"

"Oh, nothing really."

"Care to accompany me for some breakfast, then?"

You consider saying no, but you need to hunt, anyway. Besides, you don't think he'd try anything in broad daylight. In another life, you may have looked at him with a more appreciative eye. But as you wade in silence through the woods, bow cinched to your back, you study him like an opponent. He's more agile than Ghost, likely quicker. When he crests the hill, it's hard to match his strides. 

Small conversation picks up by the pond and you find yourself easing up. You learn he's from London, too.

"What part?"

"Islington. I shared an apartment with my girlfriend. The rent was shit but it was worth it. Top floor loft with a good view and this insane Turkish bakery just below us." His tone is so casual you forget where you are for a second, until he suddenly throws his knife. It pins a squirrel to one of the trees. He bends to dislodge it and carries the dead animal, blood on his fingers. 

You keep walking. "What happened to her?"

"I had to make a choice. Go to London and find her, or go with Price and get my nephew, niece, and sister-in-law."

The understanding hits with the force of a fallen tree, and you pale. 

He notices your expression and continues. "I don't regret my decision. I've come to terms with it. There was no chance of me finding her in London, not with how quickly the infection spread there and the phone lines went out. I didn't even know where to look for her. At work? Home? Up north, things weren't as bad yet. I got in contact with my sister-in-law, Ameena, and told her to meet us at the small college up there where Nereida worked."

You recall what Nereida said, about Ari's mom and sister dying, so you don't pry about them. "What about your brother? Ari's dad?"

"He died before shit happened. He was in the military, too. Different unit. Multiple gun wounds while in Afghanistan a few years back."

"I think your story is more gruesome than mine," you admit.

His lips twitch ruefully. "Not a competition. Gruesome world, gruesome stories."

A more comfortable quiet settles. He is not so different than you, you realize. Only difference is he still has his nephew to look after.

The sun is already high, enough to make a collar of sweat appear on your shirt. There is a small dirt ridge you have to climb and the effort reminds you of the still-healing bruises on your body. A skirt of movement catches your eye and this time, you act quick. You use your bow to kill a squirrel up on a branch. It falls to the ground.

"Damn." Kyle whistles, low and long, as you wriggle the arrow free. "Hell of an aim you got."

"I'm... alright."

"No need to be modest."

You straighten and wipe your bloodied hand on your shirt. The movement lifts it, and you hear him suck in a breath behind you. A hand touches your shoulder, gentle than firm, as he spins you around. You're confused, then follow his gaze to the sliver of exposed skin on your hip. It's a gross yellow. 

"Twix." His voice lowers, and his friendly eyes are confused. 

Shit. "It's not whatever you're thinking."

"I'm thinking someone has put their hands on you." He frowns and shifts closer. "I know you have no reason to tell me things, but I can tell you I am not okay with that shit, no matter who it is."

You inwardly cringe. "Ghost is not... hitting��me. Well, he is—"

"Fucking hell—"

"No, no. I asked him to." The bewildered look on his face makes you palm your forehead. "Not like that. Jesus. We train together, okay?"

"Train together," he repeats, shoulders loosening. 

"Yeah, like to help me get stronger." The embarrassment remains on your cheeks. "It's silly, really."

Kyle shakes his head and grins, clearly amused now that he knows you're not being abused against your will. "Not silly. Thought you two were into some kinky shit for a second there." He continues walking over a patch of dryer land, stepping onto a small rock and chuffing a breath under his nose. "Wouldn't have been surprised."

Your fingers absentmindedly tighten around the squirrel's limp neck. Your feet are frozen for a moment as you shake off a deep blush, then call out behind him. "Did you miss the part where I said I'm not fucking him!"

He simply laughs. 

---

The rest of the day passes in languid warmth. 

It's weird having so many people here, but you try to continue your day like usual, skinning the kill and washing your clothes. You learn more about Nereida as you eat together. You haven't had a female friend in... a long time. Save Blue. She used to be an arts professor at a private school. Sculpting, mainly. That is how she came to meet John Price, when he attended one of her galleries, buying a piece from her for far more than the listing price. He was just looking for a way to take me out to dinner. The way she speaks of him is that of a doting wife, despite everything they've been through. She tells you they were engaged before the infection. A makeshift ceremony at their old camp was the best they could do. 

"No wedding ring, but we do both have this." She pulls up her sleeve to show you a small scar carved on her shoulder—a faint letter 'J'. Price has the 'N'.

You're not sure what Ghost needed to fix on his truck that morning, or why it was important to do it with Price, but when you returned with Kyle, something felt off. Ghost's tension was palpable. He usually seems in thought, but even more-so. When Ari takes Blue for a quick ride on the horse—apparently Cherry used to be owned by his parents on their family ranch in Newcastle—he watches for only a minute before disappearing somewhere with Price. You pretend to need something from the cabin. You sneak around the back way, finding them again by his truck, muttering in low voices. Only pieces reach your ears.

"...through the rural parts. Not a straight path..."

"...could take months..."

"Got quite a bit of those."

Then, he's showing Price something under the tuck bed's tarp where you catch sight of that kayak once again. 

"Find it?"

A low voice in your ear. You startle and turn around.

"Huh?"

Kyle raises a brow. "You said you needed something."

Your hand flattens against the side of the cabin. "Right. Um, I just—"

Boots scuffle behind you. You don't need to turn to know Ghost and Price have detected your presence, making their way over. Kyle's gaze flicks to them and you feel like a child who's been caught by her parents—embarrassment laced over your irritation. You wouldn't have been eavesdropping if they weren't so secretive.

"Everything alright?" Price's timbre is calm. Your neck prickles where you feel Ghost's stare.

You find yourself nodding. "Yes. Just fine. Sorry."

It gets cooler by nightfall. Your knee bounces slightly under the table during dinner. You listen to Blue explain the rules of battleship to Ari. You don't eat much more of the meat you caught with Kyle. With a mostly empty stomach, you enter Ghost's room after everyone else has gone to bed. His broad form hovers over his dresser. For a moment, you fear he's somehow noticed that you looked at his things earlier. But then you realize his eyes are glued to the map, and he's penciling some things on the margins.

He looks up when you close the door behind you. His brows are deeply knotted. 

"Figured you would be sleeping out there for tonight."

"What?"

"Seems like you feel just fine around them now." 

He looks away from you as if you're not even there. He places the map down and opens the top drawer. Without warning, he pulls out a clean shirt and changes, revealing his bare chest. His shoulders flex as he slips it over his head by the collar. Then, he moves toward you, eyes dully expectant.

"Being asleep near them is different than hanging out during the day," you finally respond. Mouth feeling dry, you swallow. "What's going on? I can tell that you... you've been thinking about something."

"You mean you've been listening." His brow lifts. He shakes his head before you can defend yourself. "I am always thinking about something."

"Would it kill you to not be cryptic for once? I thought that we were..."

"That we were what?"

"Being honest with each other now."

A dark, slightly amused breath leaves his nose. He contemplates your words for a moment. "It is my plan to go there," he then says. "I'm not stupid. I know she needs more than what I can offer her here. It has always been my plan. Just not now."

"Because she's not ready," you breathe.

"Because she's not ready," he repeats, chin tilting. His eyes darken, veering to the left. "Price seems to disagree."

Your nails curl in your palms. "And?"

He looks back at you. "And I am thinking of your camp. What happened to you. I can't grow complacent."

The mention unsettles your stomach. Of course, he needn't elaborate, not when the memory is more fresh than you'd like. "But going to Switzerland would take days, weeks. And they have no idea what they might run into out there. It's not like we have inside info on the state of France and—and wherever the hell else we'd have to cross through to get there. They could be worse than London."

"I'm aware."

"So what, then? You're considering it now? I thought you told them no," your hushed voice edges a bit harsher, and the pulse in your neck quickens.

You hate what you think he's saying, even if you understand it. He has his daughter's future to think of. Even if he were to try finding some safe community when she's older, the opportunity of traveling with two other military-experienced men would be gone, along with whatever weapons and supplies they bring to the table.

The contemplation is vivid in his eyes as you study them. Ghost's head lowers, dipping down at the same time that he emits a harsh breath, and you realize how close the two of you have become in this quiet exchange, keeping your voices safe from any awakened ears. So close, in fact, that his exhalation hits the space between your neck and collarbones, where a small patch of skin tingles with alertness. 

His voice emerges low and thoughtful after a drawn moment. "I haven't fully decided."

You nod with deep breath to steady yourself, taking in his answer. "Will you tell me when you do?" 

"I can do that."

And that's all he offers—four words that give a minuscule amount of comfort, because now bitter uncertainty has snuck upon you once again. Your fate lays in his decision. You can't survive on your own, not even here, so if he leaves you have to go with him. The impending doom fogs your brain. You fail to notice his hand has moved, pinching the hem of your shirt between thumb and forefinger, and beginning to carefully lift it up. A breath hitches at the top of your throat and your eyes unfurl, only to find that he is pensively looking down at your exposed stomach.

"What the fuck are you—"

You're cut off when his bent knuckles gently brush over your mottled abdomen, sweeping down the sore midline, leaving you frozen. It's a thoughtful, slow touch—calloused skin against smooth softness. His thumb traces a particularly bad one by your hip, causing your muscles to flutter as a pleasant heat blossoms. For the second time today, your bruises are under scrutiny, and you curse yourself for not applying more of that paste on them.

"They're healing well," he murmurs, more to himself than to you, and lowers the shirt back down. He steps back. Eyes find yours. "Don't get too comfortable."

You blink dazedly, then stiffen. "Um, what?"

"Sleeping in my bed. My room isn't a hotel."

The change of topic gives you whiplash. "You're the one who made me sleep here," you remind him pointedly. "I'll just take the floor tonight, and you have the bed."

"You're a woman. Take it."

"As if you give a fuck about being a gentleman."

"You're right, I don't." A dismissive shoulder shrugs, then his back turns to you. He lays in the bed before you have the chance to even move, which leaves the blanket on the floor for you.

You should've just accepted the bed.

Once the room is shrouded in darkness, you bury your head in the pillow. 

"Comfortable?" he says sarcastically above you.

"Fuck off."

Then it's silent. You don't sleep nearly as well.

[thegettingbyp2]

Can you do one where jasper hale and the reader are doing the deed and Carlisle and Esme walk in on the thing happening. Thank you ❤️

Also fem reader plz

DRINK WATER thanks love ya

Caught

You whined softly as Jasper’s hips pushed gently into yours again, one of his hands firmly planted on the bed next to your head in order to keep his weight off of your body as his other hand trailed softly along your body. Jasper was getting better with understanding that you weren’t going to snap if he held onto you a bit tighter, but when it came down to sex, he was still terrified of hurting you. Your whine caused Jasper to stop suddenly as he looked down at you, bringing his hand up to your cheek.

‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked, worry filling his eyes.

‘No,’ you replied, running your hands up his chest, gripping onto his shoulders as you pulled yourself up, pressing your chest against his. Jasper brought his arm around your waist to keep you against him as he buried his head into your shoulder, kissing your skin gently. ‘Jasper you’d never hurt me. If you wanted, you could go faster, you know, harder?’ you continued, your cheeks heating up, suddenly glad that he wasn’t able to see your face.

‘(Y/N), I don’t think I’d be able to control myself, I barely have it together at the moment,’ he said, chuckling into your shoulder, his chuckle turning into a groan when he felt you clench around him.

‘I trust you,’ you said, pulling his head up until he was looking at you. ‘You won’t hurt me, please Jasper, it feels so good.’

Jasper looked at you for a few seconds before pressing his forehead to yours. ‘You tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?’

‘I promise,’ you said quickly, nodding your head as he lowered you back down against the bed. You shivered when you felt his grip tighten on you ever so slightly as he thrust into you again, a cry being torn from your lips at the force. Jasper continued to pick up the speed of his thrusts until he had a gasp falling from your lips every time his hips met yours. Dipping his head back down to the column of your throat, your breath stuck as you felt him graze his teeth along your skin, silently wondering what if would feel like if he sunk his teeth into you.

He was so lost in you that he didn’t hear the sounds of Carlisle and Esme coming back home from a hunt. Carlisle and Esme heard the sounds of your cries and instantly ran up the stairs, following the sound to Jasper’s room, afraid that their newest son had lost control while they had been away. When the door opened, Jasper’s gaze shot over to the movement and, upon seeing who it was, pulled out of you and wrapped your naked body in a blanket before you could blink.

‘You’d gone out,’ Jasper said, panting slightly, his body hovering protectively over you.

‘We had, but then we came home,’ Carlisle said, a small smile appearing on his lips.

‘We heard (Y/N) and thought,’ Esme trailed off when he saw the look of sadness and guilt that passed across Jasper’s face.

‘You thought that I’d lost control and hurt her,’ Jasper finished for her. ‘I’m getting better and - ’

The combination of your hand coming to rest gently on Jasper’s cheek and Carlisle’s words cut him off before he could start to get worked up. ‘We know, son. But with a human in a house full of vampires, that’s the first thing that comes to mind when,’ Carlisle gestured in front of him, his shoulders shaking with supressed laughter. ‘But we can go back out, let the two of you, you know,’ he said, smirking slightly as he wrapped his arm around Esme’s shoulders and led her back downstairs, closing the door behind them.

‘You know, for someone with amazing hearing, you probably should have heard them come in,’ you teased, trying to cheer Jasper up. It worked as a small smile replaced that sad frown that had taken over his features and he turned his attention back towards you.

‘Well sorry ma’am if I was a bit distracted,’ he replied, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. ‘I am getting better though right, being around you?’

‘Baby,’ you cooed, tugging him down until he was lying next to you and you curled your body into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. ‘You’re amazing, you didn’t need to get better at anything, you just had to get used to being around me. And based on what was interrupted, you’re definitely used to me being around,’ you said, unable to hide the smirk on your lips.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Seeing all this stuff on Cat König and Horangi being complete assholes just makes me wonder how they’d act if they saw their caretaker just..genuinely upset..like when they’d usually be yelling at König for eating all the food or at Horangi for being a little destructive goblin their just nowhere to be found, and of course they get confused because come on..the person who’s always yelling just goes silent out of nowhere? So when they look for them they find them just in their bed, completely covered up, not moving, and that just makes me wonder how they’d react, would König go for the sit on them till they suffocate and have to move..Horangi with the constant baps..or would they actually try to give them little head buts or just lay by them? I don’t know it just seems like an interesting scenario to me ever since I kept seeing all this stuff on this topic.

I think Horangi would be the first to notice, but König would be the first to actually check on the reader. Not that Horangi doesn't care, it's just when he notices what's going on he feels so bad that he doesn't know what to do. When König notices, he makes a plan.

König would be eerily silent. Normally he's so anxious that he always has his claws out, making little tippy taps as he scurries about. For this one moment, he's calm and prepared.

He ever so gently lays down beside you as close as he can to you. Maybe he might lay on you if he thinks that would be good for you, but I see him more as the type to lay down by your side and lay his chin on his paws. He'll swish his tail over top of you and press in close.

It takes a second for you to notice. At first, you're too miserable to move, but you remember your therapist told you to pet animals when you're distressed, so you figure you might as well.

As soon as you start petting König he lets out the most glorious purr. For a cat with such pathetic crackly mews, the purr he lets out is so deep and rich you'd think he was replaced by a fake. He rolls into you and burrows into your arms. He tries to rub his face against yours and tries to pull you in close to his side.

As soon as Horangi notices that König hasn't been punted to the other side of the room, and rather that König's actually helping, he's in on it too.

He comes up to your other side and curls around you too. He's purring too, bright and comfortable. He's a bit more playful and energetic in his affections. He's rolling over to let you scratch his belly, but then he grabs you with soft paws and licks your hand. He's a giant sweetheart about it all. Unlike König, who's all snugggles, Horangi likes to lick your fingers, hands, your face if he can get close enough.

If König isn't there to give Horangi the ques, it takes him a bit longer to figure out that he needs to get out of his own head and help out. He's scared to reach out. You can't blame him. I know you might want to, but he's scared to make it worse.

He can't leave you to suffer forever though. It isn't that long before he's trepiditiously padding over to your side. He sits by your head and just watches nervously for a moment. He hesitates, but he does do the little nervous batting. He tries to get your attention as carefully as he can.

When you turn over, his heart breaks. If König were here, he'd know what to do. Horangi tries his best to figure out what he can do.

Soon, he's pulling a König move, something Horangi never does. Horangi's an independent cat. He doesn't like being picked up, he doesn't like being held. You can hold König upside down, but Horangi doesn't really like to be touched too often.

When you're sad and broken, he pushes all his pride aside and crawls up to sit on you. He's not a crushing weight like König, he's just a warm little blanket. He sits on top of you and he purrs.

It doesn't make everything go away, but feeling Horangi reach out to you first, it melts your heart. You can't help but smile when you reach up a hand and Horangi shoves his face into your palm. He's desperate to see you smile just a little bit more.

Both cat hybrids genuinely care about you. They can be menaces, but they're good men. They love their owner (König a bit more possessively than Horangi) and both of them want to see their owner happy. They'll do what they can to make you smile when you're feeling down, no matter what.

[irisintheafterglow]

Hey there!

Saw your requests were open (if it isnt,just ignore this)

But i just love your satoru x reader and co parenting megumi????and i would KILL to see like, something bad happening to reader (like a mission going wrong,she passing out or getting sick or all) and boys just panicking cause satoru loves reader,and megumi sees her as his mother???

Sorry,im a sucker for hurt/comfort trope

Lots of love!!! you're amazing!

aww this is so cute, thank you for the request anon <3 wrote it as sick fic instead of injury since i,,,, have written like 3 things with that trope recently so let's do a fluffy sick fic instead lol. hope you like it :))

cw/tags: established relationship (pet names babe, baby, sweetheart), gn!reader, some explicit language, mention of eating

"the kid thinks you're gonna die," your boyfriend says as he enters your room, setting a grocery bag on your desk and digging around for the bottle of orange juice. "you're starting to worry me too, honestly."

"i'm not gonna die, babe; i think it's just the flu," you groan, propping yourself on an elbow and attempting to sit up. you're unsuccessful, the throbbing in your head and the chills in your arms too overwhelming. you fall back against the pillow with a less-than-ceremonial thump. satoru crouches in front of you, eyebrows drawn and forehead wrinkled in concern. he pulls down his blindfold and you're met with the bright blue eyes you loved so much.

"yep. looks like you're dying soon," he declares with a curt nod and you scoff, a chuckle turning into an aggressive fit of coughing. satoru is lightning-quick, grabbing a new bottle of water and snapping off the cap before holding it up to your lips. "here, drink." you push his hands away, wordlessly insisting that you can drink on your own while still hacking relentlessly. "nuh-uh, just let me help you." with a frown, you let him tilt the bottle toward you and take a few careful sips. "you are frustratingly stubborn," he sighs.

"i have to be if i need to deal with you all the time," you joke hoarsely, sips of water becoming gulps.

"yeah, but you love me for it," he finishes and you agree with a shrug. "easy, there," he warns as you keep downing the water. "don't want you choking again."

"i'm fine, satoru."

"you've been working yourself too much, you know."

"hypocrite," you counter and he frowns, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. you were right, even though he didn't want to admit it. satoru was always the first one to say that someone was working too hard, just to take the burden for himself. it was a red flag, you said a few weeks ago over convenience store sushi; you also noted his 'concerningly inflated ego, lack of spatial awareness, and general disinterest in things that could be momentarily unpleasant.' you'd finished it, though, with a long-winded comment about how his red flags, in all their scarlet glory, made satoru himself. maybe it was just his melodrama, but he'd cut off his hand if it meant you were able to joke like that again.

"i'm serious. i think your body's shutting down because-"

"because i've been away too long, i know. i don't need a lecture right now, satoru." you swallow the last of the water and settle back onto your pillow, grumbling when you feel the side of your bed sink with your boyfriend's weight. "baby, you're gonna get sick, too."

"that means i get to take a day or two off," he points out, fitting his face into the divot between your shoulder and neck. despite your complaints, he throws off the comforter and replaces the blankets with his arms. "don't grrrr me, babe. you need to burn off your fever and i run warmer than any of these sheets."

"aren't i sweaty and stinky and yucky? how can you be touching me when i'm all gross?"

"you mean, how can i love on you right now when you're just being a human?"

"mhmm. you don't find it gross?"

"of course not, sweetheart," he reassures you with a kiss to your shoulder. "i'd be a real dickhead if i only loved you when you were feeling 100%."

"yeah, you're only half a dickhead for other reasons," you murmur into the pillowcase and he laughs, the sound reverberating against your back. before your eyes settle shut, you catch the door of your room opening and vaguely make out a messy head of black hair peeking around the corner. "megs?"

"oi, adults only," the other occupant of the bed threatens, pulling you closer and attempting to flip you to your other side to face him. you unbuckle satoru from around you, though, and manage to sit up. megumi pads carefully into the room, like you'd crumble into sand if his steps were too loud. "come in, i guess," your boyfriend says dramatically with a wave of his hand.

"satoru, i swear-"

"sorry, baby. shutting up." satoru flops back onto your bed and you reach out to megumi, who stares at your hand for a moment before rushing into your arms. "hey, megs. since you're here, you mind grabbing me a soda from the breakroom?"

"i thought you were shutting up, satoru," you remind him, voice poisonously sweet. he echoes your reminder in a mockingly high-pitched voice. "i'm gonna kick you out of my room if you don't stop, mister."

"you wouldn't dare," he gasps.

"oh, i would."

"yeah," he concedes. "you definitely would, but i love you for it." with satoru temporarily placated, you return your attention to the small child in your arms.

"you doing okay, megs?" he nods, eyes shut against your chest and holding you tight. "i'm not gonna die, buddy. i promise." you rub your hand up and down his back, combing your fingers through his hair when you're abruptly swung backward onto the bed. "jeez, satoru, what are you-"

"get the kid, it's nap time," he mumbles with finality, resecuring his body around yours and motioning for megumi to climb in. he does, and you drift off sandwiched between your boys, feeling a little lighter for the first time in days.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[rileyslibrary]

Idk if you’re taking commissions rn but if you are.. Can you do one where reader acts as Ghosts weighted blanket after an anxiety attack? I feel like he’d love that xx

I’m glad you asked for the reader to act as Ghost’s weighted blanket instead of the other way around because that would be like being flattened by a road roller. Also, it is good to note that anxiety attacks are not the same as panic attacks. Yes, they do have some similarities, but they differ. This story is about Ghost having an anxiety attack, so bear that in mind.

And let’s be clear here: he would never explicitly ask you to do such a thing.

Never.

In fact, he would never ask you to do anything that would need you to be physically attached to him, neither from the front nor back. And his anxiety, if he ever suffers from it—which I’m sure he does because, come on, who doesn’t in our times, plus it is mentioned in the comics—he can cover it pretty well.

But it takes one to know one, right? You’ve had your fair share of anxiety attacks; you know they are not sudden or obvious. Instead, they develop slowly, gradually. That sense of general unease lingers, haunting him for weeks, even months. He doesn’t start trembling or shaking out of nowhere. This one is subtle but constant, like a leaky faucet that drips every few seconds. He feels restless and triggered by something vague that he can’t understand himself. All. The. Time.

He knows what a panic attack is; he experienced it multiple times before, mainly due to the nature of his work. But an anxiety attack? To a soldier who associated the word “attack” with something swift, sudden and imminent? There’s no such thing as an anxiety attack to him.

No.

He doesn’t comprehend this constant need to stay in control, why he’s always tense, his inability to take a full, deep breath. To him, that’s just how his body functions. Relaxation has been a foreign concept since childhood, so he’s normalised it. And he learned how to bear these symptoms instead of understanding what triggers them and learning how to alleviate them.

You’ve observed the pattern; he tends to become like that a few months before a mission, so you were able to put one and one together.

And one day, you find him lying face-down on the bed. Something prompts you, and you crawl on top of him. He shifts and asks you, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing”. Maybe he even tries to stand up while you are on his back, and you ask him to trust you; he’ll see.

He’s hesitant but obeys, though he’s more alert than ever now. You settle on top of him; he feels like he’s carved from wood, but not because of his physique. He’s tense. Stiff. Rigid. He’s afraid to let go. He holds his breath. His palms are pressed into the mattress beside his chest, ready to spring into a burpee and launch you back to where you came from.

Yet he doesn’t do it. Slowly his muscles relax under your body, and you feel him gradually—though clumsily—release tension in each body part; his legs, back, and then his shoulders. He finally lets go of the breath he’s been holding, replaced by a long exhale, his first in months. He places his hands on the sides of his body and lets out a repressed chuckle.

You ask him why he’s laughing, and he asks you to turn your face away because you are breathing into his ear. You comply.

With you not watching, he can finally close his eyes now. Good.

But even Ghost can take so much weight. Or so much intimacy. After a while, he snaps out of it, and he wriggles out from under you, letting you fall on the mattress, muttering a brief “Enough.” He doesn’t thank you for anything. What did you really do? Yes, he feels a little lighter, and his mind is clearer, but all you did was rest on him. That’s all. No need to thank you for that.

He needs it, though. Again and again. No, he doesn’t need you, of course. No, silly. He craves that sensation again—letting go. So whenever he feels overwhelmed, he awkwardly gestures toward his back and asks you sternly to “do that thing”. And you try to suppress your laughter and obey his command.

And slowly, just like his anxiety attacks come and go, he realises that it’s not just your weight on top of him that soothes him. It’s you, your will to make him feel better, your heart beating against his back, your form attached to him that makes all this chaos in the world feel a little bit more manageable than before.

[therealmrsgojo]

Timeless

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: you have been dreaming of a man ever since you were little; different lives with him were spent in your dreams, but when you wake up, his face becomes blurry, and you forget his name. maybe, in your real life, you might see him too. warnings: past lives, reincarnation au, kinda inspired by a song called timeless, soldier gojo, captain gojo, doctor reader, mentions of injuries, dreams, death, angst, comfort, and happy ending. word count: 10.5k

"I know that you and I would've found each other In another life, you still would've turned my head."

Present day

Sitting in the hospital break room, you let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of your exhaustion.

The walls around you are stark white, and you lean back in your chair, cradling your third cup of coffee for the day. Despite the caffeine coursing through your veins, you can't shake off the fatigue that has settled into your bones.

Still holding your coffee, you trudge the hallway toward the restroom, your feet dragging on the tiles. You're grateful for the brief respite, a chance to relieve yourself, and take a moment to collect your thoughts.

You entered the restroom, and you glanced at yourself in the large mirror above the sink.

"What a sight you are." You can't help but chuckle at your unkempt hair, crumpled collar, and slightly moist eyes that beg for rest. You quickly run your fingers through your hair, trying to smooth it down and look presentable.

As a third-year general surgery resident at the prestigious University of Tokyo Hospital, you know that exhaustion is par for the course. Your days are filled with evaluating patients, obtaining medical histories, performing physical examinations, and assisting in surgeries.

In spite of the exhaustion and doubts that creep into your mind, you remember that one gratitude from a patient can make it all worth it.

Helping people has always had your heart in it.

You finished using the restroom and washed your hands at the sink, cleaning rigorously. After drying your hands, you grabbed your coffee cup and sipped the last bit of your warm beverage before disposing it in the nearby trash bin.

Exiting the restroom, you checked the time on your watch and realized with dismay that you had been working tirelessly for 14 straight hours. Your mind and body begged for rest.

Sighing deeply, you called it a day and reached for your smartphone to text your colleague about your departure. You made your way towards the rest areas of your residency building, eager to collapse on one of the double deck beds.

Entering the rest area, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of the inviting beds that you had been dreaming of all day. You remove your top shirt, knowing no one is around to see you and replace it with fresh clothes from your mini drawer.

After removing your shoes, you crawl onto the soft mattress and let out a small laugh of contentment.

"Fucking finally." You stretched your limbs and pulled the blanket over your body, feeling the softness of the fabric against your skin. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath, feeling the day's stress slowly melt away as you drift off to sleep.

1944

The morning was calm and peaceful, with warm kisses pressed onto your skin, creating a sense of comfort and safety. You could feel your husband's hands roaming around your waist as he whispered sweet promises on your skin.

Slowly waking up from your slumber, you reached out to the hands holding your waist, sensing something amiss.

"Satoru, what's wrong?" Your worried voice asked as you looked at the man hugging you as if it were the end of the world.

"Just hugging my beautiful wife," he replied with a smile as he moved closer to you, kissing your lips lovingly and slowly. You gazed at him, seeing his white hair and piercing blue eyes that always made your heart ache with love and longing.

As the kiss ended, you whispered, "It's today, isn't it?" His smile faltered, and you could sense the anxiety and fear in his eyes.

It was today, the day your husband was to be deployed to the war. You felt a churn in your stomach as you remembered all the stories of the horrors of war and the uncertainty of whether he would return home alive or not.

You avoided his gaze, afraid that he would see the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You knew you needed to be strong in front of him, to support him and lift his spirits. You didn't want him to be stressed or distracted on the war front, as that would be the last thing he needed.

"Sweetheart," he said, his voice low and soft, "Can we hug more before we get out of our bed? I wouldn't mind being late today if that means I get to be with you more."

Without a word, you nodded and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly. You looked into his eyes and said, "I love you."

"I love you too, (Y/N)," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

Minutes that felt like seconds passed, and before you knew it, your husband was walking away from the porch of your home. You watched him leave as you stood on the porch of your home, cradling your hands to your chest.

It was hard to hold back your tears as you watched him walk away, the distance between you growing with each step.

But then, Satoru turned back, looking at you with a pained expression. Without hesitation, he ran back to you and tightly wrapped his arms around you. You sobbed, feeling his tears fall on your shoulders.

"I promise to get back home as soon as possible, okay? Don't be too sad. I promise I'll come back to you. We'll see each other again, every time. You wait for me," he said, his voice cracking with emotion as he cupped your face as if trying to memorize your features.

He kissed away your tears and continued, "I'll write you letters so you won't get too lonely."

You nodded, feeling a mixture of love and sadness in your heart. "Take care of yourself, Satoru. I'll wait for your return," you said softly, holding him close.

Kisses were exchanged, hands were tangled in each other's hair as the two of you promised to see each other again. It was a bittersweet moment, but you knew your love would endure, no matter how far apart you were.

As time flew by, days turned into weeks, which then transformed into months, marking the most prolonged duration you had ever been separated from your husband since your marriage.

The distance between you both seemed unbearable, and the only way to stay connected was through letters sent back and forth. Every word written in these letters was crafted with the utmost care and love as both of you poured your hearts out on the paper.

Gojo Satoru took every opportunity to share the most minor details with you, expressing his love and longing for you.

You developed a daily routine of reading his letters, savoring each and every word as if it were a vital source of oxygen. The mere act of holding those pieces of paper in your hands and tracing your fingers over his familiar handwriting brought you a sense of comfort that nothing else could.

It was as though your heart could only find solace in the assurance that he was still out there; he's alive in the middle of the war, thinking of you and missing you just as much as you missed him.

Letters that can soothe the ache in your chest.

I can't even begin to describe how much I miss you, my dear wife. Every single day, from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to bed, you're on my mind. I think about the way you laugh, the way you smile, the way you move, the way you talk, the way you love. You are the most important person in my life, and I cherish every moment we've spent together. I know we're apart right now, but please know that my love for you is as strong as ever. I hope to see you soon, hold you, kiss you, and tell you how much you mean to me. You are the light of my life, my light in this war. I love you more than words can express, and I can't wait to be with you again.

As you finish reading the final lines of the latest letter you received, you can't help but feel a warm glow spread across your chest. You place the letter on your bedside table, making a mental note to write back tomorrow and express how much you appreciate their words.

With a contented sigh, you reach for your comb and carefully work out the tangles and knots in your hair. The rhythmic motion of the combing is soothing, and you feel yourself growing more and more relaxed as you prepare for bed.

After caring for your hair, you finally finished and decided to call it a night. You tossed and turned around the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but to no avail.

A deep frown formed on your face as you kept your eyes closed, hoping that sleep would eventually come.

You let out a deep breath, slowly opening your eyes to find that your husband's side of the bed is empty. Your heart sank as you stared at the vacant space beside you, looking bare and empty.

You try to shake off the feeling, but it persists, and you find yourself unable to look away from his spot.

After several minutes of staring at the bed, you finally pull yourself out of it and walk to the closet. You start digging through your husband's clothes, searching for something that still carries his scent.

Finally, you find one of his shirts and hold it up to your nose, taking a deep breath.

The familiar scent of his envelops you; tears start streaming down your face as you clutch the shirt to your chest, whispering silent prayers for your husband's safety. You sob into the shirt, longing to be with him and wishing that he was there to hold you to sleep.

You were only able to sleep, hugging his clothes tightly on your chest.

Another month passed, and you found yourself walking back to your humble abode, a basket full of fresh produce tightly clutched in your hands. The sun began to set, and the sky was painted with hues of orange and pink.

You smiled as you thought about the meal you would prepare for your husband, Satoru, later that evening.

You received a letter from him just last week informing you that he would return home today after being finally discharged from the war.

Standing in the kitchen, you were determined to prepare the dish to perfection, having the recipe memorized like the back of your hand. You carefully measured the ingredients, double-checking each one to ensure everything was just right. As you stirred the pot, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction at the sight of the fragrant steam rising from the mixture.

You knew your husband deserved the best and were determined to give him just that.

With each passing moment, your anticipation grew as you imagined his face with his bright blue eyes, knowing he would like this delicious meal he craved from his letters.

The savory aroma of your cooking wafted through the entire kitchen as you put the finishing touches on the plates and set them on the dining table.

Everything was ready; all that was left to do was wait for your significant other to arrive.

You walked over to the living room and positioned yourself near the front door, where you could see and hear anyone approaching. You checked the time and noticed that it was getting late. You couldn't help but wonder if he would be later than usual.

As the hours ticked by, the darkness of the night seemed to grow heavier, food forgotten and cold as your anxiety began to mount.

You waited patiently, but worry was evident on your face. You found yourself staring at the clock, hoping to see his arrival soon.

The minutes turned into hours, and your eyes grew heavy as you sat alone, waiting for him to arrive.

Eventually, you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer and decided to rest, thinking that his knock would wake you up.

You were startled by a series of loud knocks on your door. Your eyes fluttered open just in time to catch a glimpse of the bright sunshine peeking through your curtains.

You realized that you had slept through the entire night, and it was morning.

Feeling a sudden rush of excitement, you quickly got out of the couch and dashed towards the door, a wide grin spreading across your face. You were unfazed by the delay. All that mattered was that your husband had finally arrived.

You opened the door, and a tall and muscular man with long black hair partially tied up in a man bun greeted you.

Your smile faded, and your heart sank as you realized he was not who you were hoping for.

"Good morning, I'm looking for Gojo Y/N," he said softly.

"I am Gojo Y/N," you answered, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. You wondered who this man was and why he was looking for you.

He then started to search his backpack, and you finally took notice of his clothes. It was no doubt that he was in the military, judging by the clothes he wore. He wore a green camouflage shirt and pants and a black tactical backpack slung over one shoulder.

Finally, he pulled out an envelope and a dog tag, which he held out to you. Your heart began to race as you saw the familiar handwriting on the envelope - it was your husband's.

"What?" You took the items with your trembling hands, muttering, "What is this?"

Your mind had some understanding, but your heart refused to believe.

"We were on our way back when a sudden explosion took place. It occurred from the military truck he was riding with. Despite our efforts, we couldn't find survivors or even bodies. It was a devastating experience that left us shaken and heartbroken." He started, eyes looking down as he continued, "I am sorry for your loss -"

"Stop," you interrupted him firmly, lips quivering with emotion, "Please stop."

He looked at you with a mixture of sorrow and concern. "I'm Geto Suguru," he introduced himself, his voice gentle. "Tomorrow, we will be holding a memorial for them, even if we don't have the remains. You can find me there if you go. I'm sure Satoru wouldn't like for you to be alone. He would hate me if that happened." He paused momentarily, adding, "I'll come back and check on you. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Leave," you said, your voice shaking with emotion. You didn't have the strength to look at him, so you turned around and closed the door loudly.

You took heavy steps towards the bedroom, feeling the weight of your grief crushing down on you. As you entered the room, you sank to the ground, the letter still clutched tightly in your hand.

You began to hyperventilate, your chest heaving with sobs as you struggled to catch your breath. You let out a loud, piercing scream, the pain and anger in your heart bursting forth. You threw the letter to the ground and shouted curses into the empty room, your hands gripping your hair tightly as you rocked back and forth.

"You're a liar!" Tears streamed down your face as you shouted, consumed by the overwhelming heartache and anguish that had taken hold of you.

Reading that letter would mean accepting his death, and you refused to do so.

You cried uncontrollably for hours, hugging yourself tightly as if to protect yourself from the harsh reality. Your face was puffy and red from all the tears you shed as you called out for your husband's name, wishing this was all a dream.

But deep down, you knew he wouldn't come back. If only you had known, you would have never gone to the trouble of cooking his favorite meal, fixing his clothes, preparing his bath, or smoothing the side of his bed.

Now, all you have is you, sitting amidst the dark walls of your home and the weight of misery that surrounds you. It's a deep grief that seems to envelop you like a heavy blanket that you can't escape from.

The only sounds you can hear are the sobs escaping your lips and the breath you no longer want to take. You look around, taking in the familiar surroundings that, once filled with hope that he would return as he promised you, are now unattainable and shattered.

A sense of heaviness seems to saturate every corner of the room, leaving you feeling adrift and detached from the world outside.

As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, time seemed to slip away unnoticed. Before you knew it, the sun had set, and darkness enveloped the room.

You realized with a start that you had been sitting in the same spot for hours, unmoving, ever since you received the devastating news about your husband.

Your mind was racing with a million thoughts and emotions, and you felt utterly paralyzed by the weight of it all.

As you looked around, you noticed the letter your husband had left on the ground, still untouched. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you were ready to face whatever was written inside. But then you took a deep breath and made up your mind to read it.

Slowly, you reached for the letter, fingers trembling with anticipation and anxiety.

As you unfolded the paper, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you as you saw your name first.

My dearest Y/N, If you are reading this letter, it means that I have departed from this world, my wife. But I have not left you. I could never leave you alone, not even for a moment. I would never do that to you. I want you to remember that my love for you will never die, not even in our next life. I will carry it with me always, wherever I go. As a soldier, I am aware of the risks involved in every mission, and I write this letter to you with a heavy heart that I can barely breathe, hoping that you will never have to read this, and if you do, please forgive me. The time we spent together was the best years of my life, and I cherish every memory we created. When you came into my life, heaven had opened its gates for me. Knowing you was the most incredible honor I could ever have. Even if gold or silver is placed on my grave, nothing will ever compare to the love you've given me. I don't have any major regrets in my life, but if there is one thing that I wish I could have done differently, it's that I wasn't able to give you the gift of a family. I know that having children was important to you, and it hurts me deeply that I wasn't able to make that happen for us. I hope you can forgive me for not being able to fulfill this dream of ours. I am scared, Y/N, scared that you will not take care of yourself, scared that you will forget about me. Please promise me that you will care for yourself and live a long and happy life. I do not want you to worry about me or grieve for too long, for I will always be with you, watching over you. Please always remember that I love you more than anything in this world. I promise I'll return to you, and we'll find each other again in our next life. You can count on that. You can rely on that. I could write endless letters, but I don't want to cause you any more pain. Please know I'll always be with you; I will keep my promise. Your husband, Gojo Satoru PS: I know that we will meet again, my wife.

You feel a tremble in your hands as you finish reading the letter your husband wrote to you. Tears flow down your cheeks despite the pain that it causes your eyes, as you have been crying for hours.

You hold his letter tightly against your chest, whimpering your husband's name as you take shallow breaths. The words he wrote to you are etched deeply into your heart and soul, as they are the last you will ever hear from him.

Gojo Satoru had loved you until his very last breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, 'Toru," you croak out, sobbing uncontrollably as you whisper apologies like a mantra that could somehow bring your husband back to life.

You regret calling him a liar earlier, and you wish that you nothing but take back those words.

Present

You suddenly opened your eyes, whines leaving your lips and the heaviness in your chest. You were crying.

Confused and disoriented, you looked around the room and noticed Shoko, your colleague resident doctor, sitting beside you. She had a startled expression, but she was doing her best to gently comfort you by patting your back.

You knew you must have been dreaming again, but the details were hazy and blurry. It was strange and unsettling, like you had just awakened from a different reality.

Trying to recall the details of the dream, you realized that it was vivid, but you couldn't remember everything.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, Y/N. You have been crying and trashing in your sleep." Shoko gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Another weird dream of yours?" She added, giving you a bottled water.

You nod in agreement, feeling a bit dizzy. Shoko was your childhood friend whom you have known since grade school. She had been the person you had confided in about your strange and unsettling dreams for as long as you could remember.

You took a sip of water and tried to gather your thoughts. "This time, he was a soldier, and he, he died," you muttered, barely able to articulate the jumbled images that had been plaguing you. "God, I swear I can see his face and say his name in my dreams, but it's all blurred now."

Shoko nodded sympathetically, her expression one of concern. "This has been going on since we were kids, Y/N," she replied, her voice gentle and soothing. "I remember the last time you cried like that, was when you told me about that white-haired man and how you ran away together because you were supposed to marry another man." She paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "I suggested that you seek help, maybe from a dream interpreter or something."

You take a few moments to regain your composure and try to piece together what happened.

The memories of your past dreams rushed back to you, and you were sure it had been the same man you had never met before.

"I don't really have the time for that right now. I can barely manage to go home and visit my mom," you replied, gripping your hair in frustration. Your best friend then stood up to take off her lab coat.

"I also researched some things about that," Shoko said, trying to reassure you. "It can be your past life or past memory."

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. "I think I'm going insane," you muttered, entirely overwhelmed by the situation.

Your best friend chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, that's another possibility, too," she said. "Especially since you've never even had a boyfriend at the age of twenty-five. You're a hopeless romantic, my friend."

You couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed. You had tried to put yourself out there, going on blind dates and meeting new people, but nothing ever seemed to stick. You just couldn't seem to fall in love, no matter how hard you tried.

And now, with these dreams, you felt even more lost.

"I feel like I'll betray him if I did," you mumbled to yourself, feeling guilty for even considering the possibility of falling in love with someone else. You knew it was irrational, but the thought of being with anyone else didn't sit right with you.

You glanced at Shoko and wished her a quick goodbye, knowing that she was going to take some rest now. You then got up from bed, feeling refreshed after a good six-hour sleep.

You walked over to your assigned drawer and picked out all the necessary items; you went to the bathroom to shower.

The warm water cascaded down your body, washing away all the tiredness and exhaustion from your mind. As you finished your shower, you quickly dried yourself off and got into the fresh set of clothes you had picked earlier. You then took a moment to dry your hair and put some moisturizer on your face to keep it hydrated throughout the day. Lastly, you applied a thin layer of pink lipgloss, ensuring your lips were soft and supple.

After getting ready, you checked your phone and saw a few notifications reminding you of your daily responsibilities.

With a deep breath, you set out to tackle the day head-on, feeling energized and motivated to fulfill all your duties.

You made your way down the hospital's long hallway, and your footsteps echoed through the corridor. You straightened the collar of your white lab coat, feeling the cool fabric against the back of your neck.

Approaching a corner, you saw two nurses chatting quietly to each other behind the information table. Nobara, one of the nurses, noticed you and greeted you with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Dr. Y/N!" she exclaimed, holding a folder towards you. "Here are the files for the patients you'll be doing morning check-ups on today."

You took the folder and smiled back at Nobara, appreciating her enthusiastic attitude. You flipped through the pages, taking note of any potential issues or concerns.

The hospital loudspeaker blared out, "Code Blue, Code Blue! All available doctors, nurses, and medical staff near the emergency room are needed. Code Blue." It was a clear indication that something serious had happened that required the attention of all medical personnel in the vicinity.

Without wasting time, you quickly handed your folder to Nobara, who stashed it away and promptly moved to join you. The two of you rushed to the emergency bay, and as soon as you arrived, your eyes widened in shock as you saw a chaotic scene; medical personnel were running around, attending to the patients.

Stretchers were being hurriedly moved around, and people rushed around the hospital room in a frenzy.

As you tried to take in the situation, a first-year resident named Maki called you, "Dr. Y/N, there has been a shooting incident, and we were instructed to apply first aid as soon as possible." Her voice was filled with urgency, and you knew that time was of the essence.

"Got that, Maki. Nobara, please gather some supplies." You immediately got to work, assessed the situation, and walked towards the patient nearest to you.

You heard Nobara's footsteps approaching; she quickly laid out all the necessary medical supplies beside you. Your focus was solely on the patient before you, and you worked with precision and care as you began cleaning the wounded area. The nurse beside you looked on in amazement as she watched you work.

"Dr. Y/N, I must say, I have never seen someone work as swiftly and diligently as you do," she mumbled in awe, her voice filled with admiration. You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle in response before turning your attention back to your patient.

After skillfully completing the stitching procedure on your patient, you took a minute to ensure everything was perfectly in place.

You then carefully removed your medical gloves, disposing of them safely while relaying crucial information regarding the next steps your patient needs.

"Help! My captain needs help, anyone please!" You suddenly heard a panicked voice calling out. You turned around to see a man with pink hair, dressed in a green military uniform, running towards you with a look of desperation on his face.

He then grabbed your wrists and pulled you towards one of the bed stretchers in the hospital.

You gently removed his hands from your wrists and asked, "What happened? How can I help?" The man was panting heavily, and it took a moment for him to compose himself. He explained, "My captain needs help urgently. He's been injured protecting me, and I think he stopped breathing. I don't know what to do."

You quickened your pace upon hearing his explanation, and as you approached the scene, you caught a glimpse of his captain lying on a stretcher, looking pale and in pain.

But as you moved closer, your eyes widened in shock as you recognized the white-haired man lying on the stretcher, the same man who had been evading your dreams ever since you were little.

Throughout your life, this man has appeared in your dreams, eluding your grasp and leaving you with a sense of longing and curiosity. He has also been a constant presence in your thoughts, occupying your mind as you go about your daily life.

When you were in high school, you found yourself drawing him in the back of your notebooks, trying to capture his essence on paper.

There were times when you even cried over him, missing him despite never having met or even knowing his name.

This man has left an indelible mark on your heart and soul; now he is in front of you, unmoving and not breathing.

"No, no, no." The memories of your last dreams played in your head, making you panic, and your breaths became labored as a surge of panic engulfed your body, causing you to tremble uncontrollably.

Suddenly, Nobara's voice called out your name, breaking you out of your trance. "Dr. Y/N! Are you okay? He's not breathing," she said, noticing your distress, as she sat beside the man.

You immediately sprang into action, shouting orders frantically, "Step back, now! Get the Defibrillator and ECG Machine, immediately. Call for a cardiac doctor, too."

You quickly propped yourself on the man's bed, removing his pillow to flatten his body. Your hands pressed down on his chest as you began giving him chest compressions, counting 30 on your head while taking notice of his face.

You weren't mistaken. It was him. How could you ever forget his face?

Tears welled up in your eyes as you continued with the chest compressions, making sure the steps were precise and accurate. Nobara returned a moment later, quickly followed by one of the cardiac doctors named Utahime, who placed the medical equipment on the body of the white-haired man. But your focus remained on the compressions as you ignored everything else.

Utahime noticed the sweat on your forehead and offered to take over, "Dr. Y/N, I can take over." But you shook your head, "No. Start working with the Defibrillator, please. I'm almost done."

You and Utahime worked together, following the necessary steps to revive the man. The minutes seemed like an eternity as you could barely breathe due to nervousness.

Finally, you heard his heartbeat back in the monitor beside you. You stared at him, your hands shaking lightly as you finally calmed down.

One medical staff wheeled the captain into one of the rooms, and Utahime turned to you, "Do you know him? Don't worry; he is in good hands. We'll do everything we can to help. Everything is under control now. You can take a rest."

You fulfilled your other responsibilities, your mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of the white-haired man you had encountered. Despite the passage of time, he continued to linger in your thoughts. His face kept flashing in your eyes.

Throughout the day, Utahime informed you about the man's condition, providing updates on his progress as he received medical attention.

You expressed your gratitude to her for keeping you in the loop, and she promised to let you know as soon as he woke up from his unconscious state.

"Y/N," you were startled by Shoko's arrival, "You haven't eaten, have you? I heard you helped with the emergency earlier, too. Come on, let's eat." She said.

You nodded wordlessly, following your friend to the cafeteria. As she ordered, Shoko noticed that your eyes were fixed on the ground, and you kept sighing. Sensing that something was troubling you, she asked, "What's wrong? Tell me."

You hesitated at first, not knowing how to convey your thoughts. You finally took another deep breath and said, "I don't know if you'll believe me, but I met him earlier." You sighed, feeling a heavy weight in your chest as memories of him flooded again in your mind.

Shoko looked at you quizzically and asked, "Who?" You looked back at her, not knowing how to answer when you didn't even know the man's name. It took a few minutes for her to understand, but when she did, she let out a loud screech of shock and shouted your name. "What? What's his name? Where is he? What happened!?" she asked, her hands shaking your shoulders.

Shoko's expression softened as she saw the tears welling up in your eyes. "Oh, I see," she said empathetically. "How can you be sure that it's him? What are your plans, honey?"

"It's him, Shoko," you said, feeling your voice shake a little. "I can't believe that I even forgot his face. But I don't know. I feel like I should not approach him at all. I would sound like an insane person if I ever did."

She sighed and said, "Who said you need to tell him immediately? You can just drop by and say hello. Let fate play out on its own, Y/N. You don't need to do anything about it."

You smiled at your best friend, grateful for her advice and carefree attitude that you needed. You spent the rest of the meal together, describing him to her and enjoying each other's company.

You were bidding farewell to Shoko outside the hospital cafeteria when she received an urgent call for her assistance in surgery.

You watched her quickly approach the operating room while you headed toward the elevator to check on one of your patients. As you approached the nurses' station, you noticed a familiar figure - a man with distinctive pink hair, eyes scanning the area intently as if searching for someone specific.

He was the pink-haired boy who asked for your help. As you approached him, you noticed his anxious expression and asked, "Sir, is everything okay?"

He seemed taken aback momentarily before gathering himself and responding, "Oh, there you are, Miss Doctor! I was looking for you." He scratched his head awkwardly and continued, "I just want to thank you personally for saving my captain. We owe it all to you." He bowed deeply, his gratitude palpable.

You smiled warmly at him and patted his shoulders when he stood straight again. "Thank you for acting so quickly. Your help made it possible for us to save him."

The boy beamed, a light flush rising in his cheeks. "Thank you again, Dr. He's very important to us all," he said earnestly.

You were intrigued by his words and asked him to elaborate. "Really?"

The boy looked surprised by your question and answered, "Yes. Tell me anything you want, and we'll try to do it for you in return."

"Well, do you mind telling me his name?" you asked shyly, your eyes avoiding his gaze as you gripped your coat.

"Huh? Um, yeah, he's our captain, Gojo Satoru," the boy replied, looking at you curiously.

Gojo Satoru.

When he spoke the name, you felt a jolt of recognition run through you. It was a name you had never heard before, but you couldn't quite place it where. It felt familiar as if you had muttered that name countless times before.

"Does, does he have blue eyes?" Your voice was barely above a whisper as you struggled to control your emotions.

The man across from you tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Yes," he finally answered, his tone growing more puzzled by the second. "Why do you ask?"

Feeling your heart thump back in your chest, you replied quickly, "Just, just because. I better be going now. I have some work to do." You turned around to start walking away, your mind racing about what could happen if you stayed.

However, before you could get too far, the young boy's voice cut through the silence. "Doctor! Once he wakes up, please pay us a visit! So he can thank you too in person." You kept walking, answering him in silence.

You had faced challenging surgeries and worked consecutive shifts in the hospital, but the thought of seeing him again in his awakened state sent shivers down your spine. You didn't know if you had the strength to face him.

It was as if you weren't wishing to meet him throughout your life, wondering if he would love you as he did in your dreams.

The day ended, and you left your workplace and walked home to your apartment, which was located nearby. You were looking forward to your rest day, scheduled for tomorrow.

Utahime texted you in the morning to inform you that Gojo Satoru had finally woken up, letting you know there would be no complications.

You spent the day resting, finding it difficult to sleep as your thoughts kept returning to the white-haired man.

You were scared that he might not even spare you a second glance, and you felt a sense of helplessness as you wondered about the possibility of him being discharged from the hospital quickly.

This could mean you would lose the chance to meet him again and be left in the dark about his whereabouts.

Despite your fears, you found yourself walking back to the hospital in the afternoon, unable to resist the urge to catch a glimpse of him, even if he was far away.

You felt a mix of emotions - hope, fear, and uncertainty - as you tried to calm your nerves and prepare yourself for whatever lay ahead.

Let fate play out on its own, Y/N.

You arrived at the hospital, and friendly staff greeted you warmly when they saw you. You explained that you were just there to retrieve something you had forgotten from the doctor's resting quarters.

Your nerves didn't stop you from walking on autopilot, your feet carrying you toward the private room where he was supposedly resting.

You longed to see his face, hear his voice, and just to see him again.

When you approached the room, you noticed the door was slightly ajar, and you could hear laughter and voices coming from within.

You were about to leave when a familiar voice called out your name, and you turned to see a pink-haired boy beaming at you. He was holding a brown bag filled with snacks, and a dark-haired boy stood beside him, nodding at you in acknowledgment.

"Miss doctor!" the boy exclaimed. "Did you come to visit us? He's awake now, too."

"I just happened to be passing by, dear. I'm sorry to disturb you," you replied, trying to keep your voice calm.

You turned your gaze back to the private room and noticed the door was now open wide, and the people inside had heard your conversation. Your eyes widened as you finally saw Gojo Satoru, the man you had been thinking about all day.

He looked at you with his cerulean blue eyes, witnessing your conversation with the pink-haired boy; his white hair was slightly unkempt, and his skin glowing as the sun reflected off it.

His head was slightly tilted as he inspected your face, and he looked ethereal.

You were so lost in his gaze that your background blurred, and it was as if the two of you were in your own little world. It took some time before he finally spoke out, "Yuuji."

You broke the staring contest you had with him and felt a rush of blood to your chest as you avoided his gaze. "Come on, let me introduce you," Yuuji said, holding your elbow and guiding you into the hospital room.

As you walked into the room, you noticed that the people with whom Gojo Satoru was laughing earlier excused themselves before you came in. You cleared your throat awkwardly and noticed that Satoru was still looking at you with curiosity in his eyes.

"Captain! This is the doctor I told you about. Be nice, she's your savior!" Yuuji exclaimed while laughing. He put down the brown bag he was holding on the nearby table.

Satoru was surprised and said, "Hello. Nice to meet you, and thank you for everything, Doctor." He gave you a small smile, grateful as his eyes memorized your face.

"It's good to see you up," you mentioned while returning a small smile. You fiddled with your fingers as your heartbeat became louder in your chest, finding it hard to keep eye contact with him.

"Megumi and I have been looking for you, Miss Doctor, since the captain woke up," Yuuji interjected, mentioning the black-haired boy beside him, whom you realized was Megumi.

"It's actually my day off every Sunday. I just needed to stop by to get some things," you countered, explaining your civilian clothes. "And you can call me Dr. Y/N; just Y/N is fine, too. Whichever you prefer."

The pink-haired boy laughed, and a blush crept on his cheeks as he told the efforts Megumi and he made to find you. His stories made you laugh, especially when you learned that Nobara scolded them for accidentally entering the nurses' resting room.

"We aren't hogging you, are we?" Satoru's voice cut you off, and he added, "Since it's your rest day, you should be resting. I apologize if Yuuji disturbed you." His stare observed your reaction.

"Oh no, not at all; I'm about to leave anyway." You bowed, embarrassed.

"Thank you again, Dr. Y/N. Let me know if I can do anything for you." He softly spoke, giving you another sweet smile.

"You can return the favor by not letting me see you in that state again, Satoru." To your surprise, he seemed to be taken aback when you mentioned his name, and you noticed his eyes widen and mouth agape lightly as he watched your face.

Yuuji and Megumi stood frozen at the interaction. It was their first time seeing their captain be speechless as he was the one to give snide remarks. But now, they were surprised to see the stoic man seem enchanted when you mentioned his name.

You were the first to break eye contact, bidding farewell as you quickly stepped out of the room without glancing back.

Walking into the hallway of the hospital, you found your eyes become wet with tears; spilling out of your eyes without your consent. Sobs that you were stopping made your lips quiver.

Your hands balled into fists with sadness and frustration, preventing yourself to have a mental break down out in the public space.

You have faced countless uphill battles during your life, ranging from witnessing some of the most gruesome injuries to undergoing the most complex surgical procedures.

Despite all of the challenges you have encountered, you have never before felt as vulnerable as you do now.

You thought it was the end. You would never see him again. When you mentioned his name, he seemed taken aback, and you thought he might see you as a creep that snoops around patient records. You were not even his attending doctor. You were not his friend, not his girl, not his betrothed, not his wife.

You are not the girl he loved timeless in different timelines, like what your dreams showed you.

You were just a mere doctor who happened to be near when his heart stopped, doing what's expected to treat patients. You are a stranger to him.

Standing inside the empty elevator, the silence seemed to amplify the weight of your emotions. The sobs that have been welling up inside you break free, echoing off the walls of the elevator and filling the air with your anguish.

You felt alone and overwhelmed; the moment's solitude only added to your desolation.

The feeling of being trapped in the small metal box only heightened your anxiety, and you longed for the doors to open and release you from the suffocating confines of the elevator.

It was a painful reminder that sometimes, no matter how much you prayed for something, it's just not meant to be.

You couldn't help feeling a void in your chest as you stepped out, wiping your tears with the sleeves of your clothes, knowing that life is not a fairytale, and dreams will remain just that - dreams.

One week after

In the aftermath of your encounter with Gojo Satoru, you decided to avoid him at all costs and made sure to steer clear of his designated room in the hospital.

Your days quickly became repetitive and monotonous as you focused on your hospital duties and tried to keep your distance from him.

One day, as you were walking outside the cafeteria, you bumped into Yuuji, who greeted you warmly and tried to strike up a conversation. However, you were quick to end it, explaining that you had a lot of tasks to do.

You didn't want to risk getting too close to anyone close to him.

The vivid dreams that had been a constant presence in your life disappeared since your encounter with Gojo Satoru. Although you had once wished for them to stop, they had become a source of comfort and solace for you in your darkest nights, reminding you that someone out there might have loved you in your past lives.

The thought of never having a chance to say goodbye to those dreams was haunting, and you found yourself grieving for them.

It was like letting go of a cherished friend without being able to say goodbye.

Sharing your recent encounter with your best friend, Shoko, she enveloped you in a warm and tight embrace that made you feel safe and secure. Her brown hair tickled your face as she whispered reassuringly that she was always there for you, no matter what. The feeling of her support and care lifted a weight off your shoulders.

Your final shift of the week ended; all you wanted to do was go home, slip into something comfortable, and unwind in the peace and quiet of your own space.

You politely declined Shoko's invitation to hit the town for some drinks, letting her know you needed time alone to gather your thoughts and reflect on the week that had just passed.

"I'm going home now, see you." You bid goodbye to your Nobara, who waved back at you with a happy smile.

"Get some rest, Dr. Y/N!" Nobara hollered after you, making you chuckle as you walked toward the elevator.

As you walked out of the hospital, you were welcomed by a breathtaking sunrise, illuminating the sky with a blend of warm oranges and pinks. The sun gradually creed up on the horizon, casting a soft, golden light on everything it touched. As the wind caressed their leaves, the gentle sway of the trees caught your eye, creating a soothing rustling sound.

The pavement was bathed in a warm, amber light, and it radiated a positive energy that spread throughout your body, leaving you feeling content and serene.

Suddenly, something caught your attention, and you looked up to find yourself across none other than Gojo Satoru himself.

He was leaning casually against a brand new-looking 2022 Cadillac as he donned a luxurious black polo shirt and slacks that accentuated his impressive physique.

His eyes met yours with relief, making it seem like he had been waiting for you.

The scene felt surreal, making you squint your eyes to ensure you weren't imagining things.

You feel your pulse quicken at the sight of him approaching. Every step he took echoed in your ears, drowning out the noise of the crowd around you. Your hands instinctively clenched as you braced yourself for his arrival, nervous as you waited for him.

He stood before you, looking hesitant and unsure of himself. "Dr. Y/N," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please tell me if I'm overstepping or saying too much."

His sudden appearance still perplexed you, and you couldn't grasp what was happening. "Huh?" You answered, hoping to get some clarity.

He took a deep breath and continued, "I'm sorry if this comes out too weird, but I just wanted to offer to drive you home, or maybe we could grab dinner together. As, um, as a thank you." You saw the hope in his eyes as he spoke.

Seeing a military intelligence captain being so nervous in front of you was pretty surprising. Your presence seemed to have impacted them, leaving you wondering about the cause of their nervousness.

"You don't really need to do that," you said, but you immediately regretted your words as his shoulders slumped in defeat. "But I haven't eaten yet, so I find it hard to say no," you continued, giving in to your emotions and favor towards him.

As you spoke, you noticed his eyes widen slightly at your words. His reaction reminded you of one of your dreams, where his teenage self would throw his head back in laughter at your banters. However, you quickly snapped out of your reverie when he called out to you, leading you to his car.

You followed him closely; he opened the passenger door with a gentle hand and helped you settle inside. You fastened your seatbelt while watching him get inside, his hands on the wheel as he started driving.

"What would you like to eat, Dr. Y/N?" he asked, turning his head slightly to face you.

"Anything is fine, and you can just call me Y/N," you replied politely.

"Alright, Y/N," he said, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. Hearing your name from his lips made your heartburn, making you remember the familiar voice of his name in your dreams. You turned your head to face the windows, feeling your eyes moisten.

You had heard his voice in your dreams before, and it was a surreal feeling to listen to it now.

"Have you been waiting for me outside?" you asked, still looking out the window.

"Yes, I remembered last time that you told me every week you have Sunday as your rest day, so I waited," he replied as he continued to drive.

"Waited?" you asked, intrigued now. You finally glanced at him with curiosity in your eyes. "For how long?"

"Yeah. For 4 hours. Since I was not sure what time you'll be out," he chuckled, tapping his fingers nervously at the steering wheel.

"What? You could've asked for me. That's too long; I'm sure you have other things to do," you said, feeling guilty for keeping him waiting.

"I didn't want to disturb you, and don't worry because I have requested a leave today, too," he said reassuringly. He stared back at you with a warm smile, his blue eyes shining like the ocean on a sunny day.

You were fully aware of his striking blue eyes, having seen them for the first time when he woke up in the hospital. But every time you looked into them, you couldn't help but feel a rush of admiration for their pure beauty. You two had been gazing at each other for a while, lost in thought and captivated by each other's presence.

Suddenly, a car horn blared behind you, causing both of you to startle. Satoru cursed under his breath and accelerated, seeing the traffic signal turn green. "Shit, sorry."

Stepping into the restaurant, you were immediately drawn to the opulent decor surrounding you. The place was adorned with intricate details that exuded elegance and luxury.

Satoru gave you a warm smile and guided you to your table with his big, gentle hands resting on the small of your back.

You both sat down to eat, the aroma of the food wafting around you; you engaged in light conversation, exchanging short stories here and there. Satoru spoke fondly of his subordinates, sharing anecdotes that painted a picture of a kind, respectful leader who genuinely cared about the people he worked with.

You listened to him speak, and you admired him for his qualities and how he treated his team with the utmost fondness and care. It was evident he was a good person, just like the one you had seen in your dreams.

"Would you like some wine?" he asked, offering a drink.

"Yes, I'll just take a glass or two," you replied, smiling at him as you accepted the glass and sipped the expensive-tasting wine. You watched him drink his wine, too, his eyes fixed on you, making you blush.

"Y/N," he began, "I wanted to apologize for my behavior last time. I fear I may have come off rude by not speaking much and being surprised when you called me by my name. Yuuji mentioned that he told you my name, so I'm sorry if I was taken aback." His eyes seemed to soften as he spoke.

"Okay," you shyly replied, feeling like a teenager again. He took a sip of his wine, then looked up at you with a serious expression.

"To be honest, I've wanted to talk to you for a while now," he said. "Ever since I was a child, there's been this girl that I've been dreaming about. I can't recall much about her features, but one thing that has always stayed with me is the vivid memory of her eyes. They were the most beautiful and expressive eyes I had ever seen. It broke my heart whenever I saw tears streaming down her face in my dreams. I know it may sound strange, but I was mesmerized the first time I saw you because you have the same eyes as the girl in my dreams."

As you stood there listening to him, your heart skipped a beat, and your breath became shallow. His words were like a punch to the gut, "And after I met you, whenever I think of that girl in my dreams, all I keep seeing is your face instead." You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, and your palms started sweating.

"Tell me," you shakily said, "Tell me one of your dreams."

Satoru stared at you, joining his hands on the table as he leaned in. "There are many of them; it's like different versions of myself, but there was this one time that I was a soldier, and--"

"And you died in the war," you cut him off, continuing, "And you left a letter to your wife, apologizing for leaving her, not giving her kids, and saying that you'll meet again."

As you locked eyes with him, you noticed a look of bewilderment on his face reflected in your expression. Both of you were left speechless, lost in contemplation, as you realized your dreams had been intertwined.

"I get them too, Satoru. I see those same dreams every day, but I can never remember your name for some reason. Your face becomes a blur every time I wake up, and it's heart-wrenching," you said, your voice shaking as tears streamed down your face. You instinctively wrapped your hands around yourself, seeking comfort from your embrace.

Satoru looked at you; his heart tightened with emotion as he observed the tears streaming down your face.

At that moment, he realized that his heart still belonged to you, and all his doubts and apprehensions vanished into thin air, realizing that you, just like him, were deeply invested in your shared dreams of the past.

"I could tell it was you from the moment I looked at you, but I wasn't sure if you would know me. It's funny, a year ago, if someone had told me that you were real, I wouldn't have believed them," you said with a bitter chuckle. Your head hung low, avoiding eye contact with him. "Despite that, I always held onto the hope that we would find each other again. I knew you would still turn my head like you did all lives ago."

You rested your hands on the smooth surface of the table. Satoru's hands moved towards you without a second thought. They were warm and welcoming, fitting yours perfectly as if they were meant to be there.

His voice was gentle as he said, "Let's get you home, sweet girl."

Satoru gently wiped your tears away with his thumb, his touch warm and reassuring. He then helped you into the car, carefully protecting your head as you got in. He was extremely careful and attentive towards you, ensuring you were comfortable and safe.

Once settled in your seat, Satoru made sure your seatbelt was fastened correctly. His hands moved precisely, checking and adjusting until he was satisfied that everything was secure.

"Can you tell me your address and phone number?" he asked softly, his hands resting gently on your thigh.

Satoru began to drive, clasping your hands in his, taking a different route than usual. Knowing that he had your best interests at heart, you didn't question it. You trusted him implicitly, knowing you were safe with him above all else.

The car gradually slowed down and finally came to a halt. You gazed out the window and saw a vast, open field that immediately caught your eye.

The scene was so picturesque - the colorful flowers on the sides and the lush green grass in the center welcomed you warmly. And as you tilted your head toward the sky, the countless stars shining down upon you took your breath away, filling your heart with a sense of wonder and awe.

As you both sat down, the silence was filled with the gentle rustling of the leaves and the twinkle of the stars above. The cool breeze brushed against your skin as you gazed up at the sky, admiring the constellations.

After a few minutes, you felt a soft touch on your hand and turned to see him looking at you with a gentle smile.

Without a word, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. "I've never been in a relationship before," he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours, "Because I was waiting for you, Y/N."

You felt your heart swell with emotion, and a soft smile spread across your lips as you leaned towards him. Wrapping your arms around him, you inhaled the scent of his cologne mixed with his natural musk, feeling the warmth of his embrace as he pulled you closer.

He kissed the top of your head, and you could feel the gentle movement of his lips against your hair. It was a moment of pure bliss and contentment, a feeling that words could not describe.

You spent the moment getting to know each other, from the simplest things like birthdays and favorite foods to the grander things like your hopes, dreams, and beliefs.

It was like two lost souls finally finding their way back to each other, and you felt yourself falling deeper in love with him with each passing moment.

Satoru drove you back to your apartment, chatting and laughing with you. When you arrived at your doorstep, he didn't just drop you off and leave - instead, he walked you towards your door, patting your head affectionately as he said, "I'll text you as soon as I get home. And let's schedule our next date soon, okay?"

You laughed at his eagerness, teasing him, "Date? Have you even asked my permission if it's alright to court me?"

"I'm sure we all know you have been my wife," he teased, flashing his charming smile. "And I'm sure you won't resist my handsome face." His lighthearted comment made you double over in laughter.

Finally, it was time to say goodbye. You closed the door, and your smile slowly faded away. You had expected him to at least kiss you - even a peck on the cheek would have sufficed - but he didn't.

Feeling a bit disappointed, you walked towards your living room, wondering what could have you done wrong. However, your thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly heard your doorbell ring.

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned around and walked back to the door, peering nervously through the peephole. To your surprise, you saw Satoru standing outside, looking just as nervous as you felt.

Opening the door, you were surprised when he grabbed your face without hesitation, lowering his head and pressing his lips against yours. Your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer still as his tongue darts out to gently sweep across your bottom lip, seeking entry.

With a gentle moan, you open up for him, allowing your tongues to dance in a passionate embrace. He deepens the kiss, using his free hand to tangle his fingers gently into your hair, holding you firmly in place.

He continued to explore every corner of your mouth, savoring the unique flavor that is uniquely yours. You break away from the kiss to catch your breath, only to see his eyes hooded as he stares at you with admiration.

Satoru pulled you into his warm embrace, whispering, "I'll see you soon, my wife."

The endearment immediately made your eyes well up with tears, as it was his favorite in your past life. You held onto him, cherishing the moment.

Eventually, he released you, giving you one last peck on your lips before walking away towards his car. You watched as he approached the driver's seat and waved back at you happily.

"See you soon!" you called out, trying to keep your voice from trembling. Satoru winked at you, making your heart skip a beat.

The memories of your past lives flooded your mind as you watched him drive away, and you were grateful for the chance to start anew. The journey ahead was uncertain, but you were ready to face it together with Gojo Satoru by your side.

Deep down, you knew you were ready to spend this lifetime with him.

Note: Writing this made me cry and emotional, and I hope you liked it. Soldier/Captain Gojo makes my brain melt.

[juniperdugong]

Confess - Satoru Gojo

WC: 840 || Genre: Fluff || Gojo x GN!reader (established relationship)

"SATORU GOJO!" Your scream reverberates across all walls and furniture like a gong to Toru's ears as you enter your shared bedroom.

"Uh oh..." He's digging himself into the sheets as fast as he can, the sound of your footsteps feeling like a literal horror movie, he nearly suffocates himself by wrapping the blanket over his head.

"Yeah. Uh oh." You loom over the cacoon he's created for himself. You can feel him shiver as you gently tap at his protection. A slight giggle from you and suddenly the blanket inflates like a balloon. "Satoru... you did not." the annoyance in your voice is evident.

"Don't know what you're talking about lovebug." You can practically hear the jittery nervous smile he's faking for himself under all this mess.

"Yeah? So you didn't just put your infinity up so I can't reach you?"

"Would never dream of doing that in your presence..."

You rip the sheets off and sure enough your hand faces an invisible wall. "Wouldn't dream of it, right?" Sarcasm drips from your words as you meet his face, a completely fake expression of happiness and innocence adorning him like a mask.

You flop yourself over the barrier like a sea lion, allowing yourself to drape over the nothingness and everything separating the two of you. To anyone else's eyes, this looks like a magic trick and you would be impressed too if this little charade weren't getting on your nerves. Your face droops into a pout as you wiggle yourself to stay on top. Toru's breath hits your cheek and you can just barely see how he mimics your pout in response.

You let out an exaggerated and heavy sigh knowing which strings to pull, "Don't do this to me, baby!" His pout turns sad and his voice gets whiny.

"I'm not the one doing anything." Each of your words is punctuated with a poke to, what would be his body, but instead is infinite space. You turn so you're at an angle where he can't see the smirk on your face, consider his strings pulled at this point!

Another heavy sigh is all that it takes before you feel yourself drop and your body thud heavily onto the man beneath you with a pained groan. You quickly try and move your body but your efforts are thwarted as Satoru squeezes you with all of his limps. Wiggling does nothing as he just gets tighter with every sudden move. Eventually, you have to concede because the heat of the friction you're causing is making you sweat and you go limp atop him.

"Gojo Satoru." Your voice is muffled as your face is smothered in Toru's chest.

"Oh, not the full name baby!"

You finagle your head so you can look up at him, your expression obviously upset and angry. "Confess your crimes."

"Crimes? What crimes? I don't see any crimes here sweetness." He looks around the room pretending to be oblivious but you're just too cute with your little pout, how can he resist such charms?

Like a man confessing to god he tilts his head back and towards the sky, putting on a fake look of sadness he lets out a sigh, "I, Gojo Satoru, confess to the crime of..." he pauses.

"Of?" You look at him expectantly.

"...Of eating all of y/n's snacks while they were away on a business trip." He bites his bottom lip looking down at you with puppy dog eyes.

"And?"

"And... for not replacing said snacks before they got home."

"And." You grit your teeth as you say the word.

"And... for waiting till they noticed and got all showered and comfortable after such a long and strenuous trip to mention anything..." His entire body suffocates you, squeezing you impossibly tighter as he finishes his confession, "Please don't hit me when I let go, honey..."

"Hmph" you gruff in response, you make no such promises in this situation.

He slowly releases you from his grip and tenses bracing for impact. Not feeling the weight of your palm against his face he opens an eye curiously.

*THWACK*

He's thrusted backward as you slap him hard in the chest, the surprise elicits multiple fake coughs from Satoru - you know he can take much more than a few of your measly punches but violence from you was always gonna do more damage to his heart than any curse could.

"cough cough ...you promised" he squeaks.

"I didn't actually. You're the one who promised not to touch my snacks... so???" Satisfied you leave him in his state of disarray, traipsing out of the room.

He lets his head hit the pillow, eyes following you in amusement as you walk away. He chuckles to himself completely amazed at your conviction and head over heals even for your little tantrums.

He knows you'll forgive him once he finishes placing all the orders for everything that he ate... maybe you'll even forgive him enough to let him have some if he asks nicely...

Nah, probably not.

A/N: A little something something for the jjk side of things... I definitely did not write this while completely exhausted at 4am... hope y'all enjoy though! First Satoru fic! Not proofread if you couldn't tell lol

Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed! (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb

[cruel-seduction]

Hello! I was hoping I could request one where reader helps Eddie/Venom during a fight and gets hurt and they have to save her, lots of angst but a happy ending? Thank you very much!

Heyyy sorry it took a while. But I tried my best to write this. Hope you like it.

Shadows of Regret

The city was drenched in shadows, the alleyways pulsating with a darkness that seemed to wrap around you like a suffocating blanket. The distant hum of traffic echoed against the bricks, but you hardly noticed. Your heart raced as you stepped into the alley, the harsh, flickering light from a nearby streetlamp casting an eerie glow on the cold pavement. Clad in your favorite worn leather jacket, faded jeans, and scuffed boots, you felt a mix of adrenaline and fear. You had insisted on coming to help Eddie, even after he had urged you to stay behind. “You don’t understand what’s at stake,” he had said, his voice raw and pleading, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he turned away from you.

But you did understand. You understood the depths of his pain and the darkness that clung to him and Venom like a second skin. You couldn’t just stand by while he faced the chaos alone. You needed to be there for him, to remind him he wasn’t as lost as he believed.

When you arrived at the warehouse, the musty smell of metal and decay hit you like a wall. You could hear the distant growls and snarls of Venom as he clashed with the gang that had been terrorizing the city. Eddie’s gruff voice broke through the noise, tinged with anger and desperation. “Get out of here! You don’t belong here!” He didn’t see you, his back turned as he fought, but you could feel the weight of his words pressing down on you.

“Eddie!” you shouted, your voice barely rising above the chaos. You stepped forward, heart pounding, your instincts screaming at you to turn back. But you couldn’t. Not now.

In that moment, Eddie spun around, eyes wild, his breath coming in harsh gasps. When he saw you, a flicker of shock crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by fury. “I told you to go! You shouldn’t be here!” His voice was a thunderclap, reverberating off the warehouse walls. The venomous edge in his tone cut deeper than any physical blow.

You recoiled slightly, hurt flashing across your features. “I’m not leaving you,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady. “You need me.”

But Eddie’s expression hardened, and you could see the internal battle raging within him. He stepped toward you, fists clenched, his body taut with tension. “You don’t get it! I can’t protect you if you’re here! I won’t let Venom hurt you. You have to trust me.”

A deep ache settled in your chest as his words sank in. You knew he was right to worry, but you also knew that pushing you away was tearing him apart. The guilt that shadowed his every move was palpable, and it stung you to see him like this, so raw and broken. “Eddie, please…” you began, but before you could finish, a loud crash echoed through the warehouse, pulling both your attention away.

Venom’s monstrous form loomed in the dim light, a twisted amalgamation of muscle and shadow, his white eyes glowing with a fierce intensity. He was strong, fierce, and ready to fight, but you could see the flicker of concern in those glowing orbs as he watched you.

“Get back!” Eddie shouted again, panic rising in his voice as he stepped in front of you, a shield against the chaos. He was imposing and protective, but the fear behind his eyes was unmistakable. “I can’t lose you too!”

You felt your breath hitch, a mix of hurt and determination swelling inside you. “Eddie, I can handle myself!” you insisted, pushing past him, refusing to cower. But the moment you stepped forward, the atmosphere shifted, a palpable tension crackling in the air.

Venom roared, lunging at the gang members, a mass of dark tendrils and fury. You turned to see the fight erupt, but the chaos quickly descended into a blur of fists and snarls. Suddenly, one of the attackers broke free, rushing toward you with a wild look in his eyes, and in that split second, everything changed.

The air was thick with tension as Eddie and Venom fought side by side, a chaotic whirlwind of violence and desperate energy. You stood there, torn between fear and the desire to help, watching as Eddie threw himself into battle. Every part of you screamed to turn away, to run and get out of harm's way, but you refused.

"I’m not leaving you," you whispered under your breath. You wouldn’t run, not after everything he’d already sacrificed. You refused to be another person to abandon him when he needed someone most. But in the instant you stepped forward, trying to close the gap between you and Eddie, the world shattered.

One of the gang members—a hulking figure whose face was contorted with anger—saw the opening. His eyes locked onto you, and before you could react, he lunged. You instinctively tried to dodge, but your foot caught on a loose piece of debris. Time seemed to stretch in that split second as you felt your body stumble, your knees buckling under you.

The pain was immediate. His hand clamped around your wrist like a vice, jerking you into the air before slamming you against the brick wall with a sickening thud.

"NO!" Eddie’s voice rang out, filled with raw terror, but you couldn’t hear him clearly over the buzzing in your ears. Your vision blurred, and your breath hitched as your side exploded with pain. The air was knocked from your lungs, sharp and searing. The wall scraped against your skin like jagged glass, sending an icy, fiery sting through your entire body.

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You couldn't think. Your body burned with the sensation of the world falling apart.

"Shit!" Eddie's voice, desperate and filled with anguish, reached you just as the air around you felt suffocating. His figure, all tension and fury, collided with the gang member. The force of the impact sent the man crashing backward, but Eddie didn’t even hesitate—he turned back to you in a heartbeat.

“Stay with me,” he begged, his voice breaking. His eyes were wide, frantic. The moment his gaze met you, it was as if he saw everything he'd been running from. His face contorted in fear, the protective mask he'd worn for so long slipping, revealing the broken man beneath.

You wanted to respond. To tell him you were fine, that it wasn’t so bad. But your body was betraying you, the pain spreading like wildfire across your ribs, your lungs. You gasped for air, but all that came was a pained, shallow breath. Your vision spun, and you could feel the sharp heat of blood pooling beneath you. The world around you dulled as your consciousness began to fade.

Eddie reached you before you could slip into unconsciousness, his hands trembling as he cradled your face. “No, please don’t do this,” he muttered, his voice jagged with desperation. “Don’t you dare leave me… I can’t… I can't lose you.” His words seemed to echo, thick with a vulnerability you’d never seen from him before.

Venom raged inside Eddie, a furious entity locked within him, but even Venom—powerful, violent, and untamed—seemed to share in Eddie's fear, his sense of helplessness. "Stay with her, Eddie," Venom growled, his voice like a thousand serpents hissing in the air. "You can't lose her. Not like this."

Eddie’s hands moved over you like he was trying to hold your brokenness together, his fingers grazing over the bloodied side of your body. “You’re going to be okay. You have to be okay,” he said, more to himself than to you. His voice was trembling, shaking with a fierce, raw energy. But his touch, frantic as it was, wasn’t enough to stop the blood that stained your clothes and soaked into his hands.

He looked at you again, his breath coming in desperate pants, his face pale. His eyes, usually sharp with intensity, were now wide and filled with terror, as if every bit of him had unraveled in an instant.

“I told you to stay back,” he choked out, his voice breaking, full of blame, guilt, and grief. “I told you… I told you it was too dangerous.”

But you hadn’t listened. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t leave him.

And now, seeing you so fragile, so hurt, Eddie felt like he was crumbling. He tried to push the guilt down, tried to focus on you, on getting you to safety. “I should’ve… I should’ve kept you safe.” His hands shook as he tried to stop the bleeding, but the blood kept coming, your life slipping away with every passing second.

“You shouldn’t have been here,” he muttered, the words coming out jagged, broken. “I never wanted this for you.”

Venom’s voice cut through the storm of Eddie’s thoughts. "Eddie, don’t—" The symbiote’s voice softened, a rare moment of calm in the midst of the chaos. "She chose to be here. She chose you."

Eddie swallowed, his breath uneven, and for the first time, he looked at Venom as though he’d never truly understood the weight of his own feelings. “I—no, I can’t lose her, Venom. I just can’t.”

Tears welled up in Eddie’s eyes as he pressed his palm to your side, trying to steady you, trying to hold onto you. “Please don’t leave me. I need you… I need you to stay.”

But your body was growing colder, your breath coming slower, and as much as Eddie tried, as much as he wished, he knew he couldn’t control everything. He couldn’t stop what was happening to you.

"Don't go, don't leave me..." Eddie repeated over and over again, each word a fragile thread he clung to as though it were his last lifeline.

Eddie’s frantic voice echoed in the stillness of the warehouse, as he tried desperately to keep you with him. The panic that had initially gripped him began to take on a sharper, deeper edge—the weight of everything pressing down on him. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not after everything he’d done to keep you safe, only for you to be hurt because you refused to leave his side.

The blood was still coming, staining the fabric of your clothes and soaking his hands as he tried to staunch the flow. The fear in his chest was suffocating. He wasn’t sure if he was speaking to you or to himself when he muttered, “Please, don’t leave me... please...”

His heart hammered against his ribcage, and he was on the verge of losing control. “You can’t leave me,” he said again, but his words felt hollow, too desperate, too broken. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry I told you to go. I should’ve let you stay. I should’ve trusted you.” The words were coming out in a rush, tumbling from his mouth as he clung to you, his hands trembling on your bloodied body. The guilt felt like it was suffocating him.

Venom surged within Eddie, the symbiote feeling the devastation pouring through him, but the anger and frustration were twisted with a strange, painful sense of helplessness. “Eddie,” Venom growled softly, his voice trying to ground Eddie through the chaos. “We have to focus. Stay with her. We will fix this.”

Eddie’s grip tightened on you, his eyes locked on your face as though willing you to respond. The world around him seemed to blur, and all he could focus on was you, the person who had refused to leave him no matter how many times he told you to go. His heart ached in a way that words couldn’t describe. You were slipping away from him, and he couldn’t stop it.

But then, just as the darkness started to close in around the edges of your vision, you felt a warmth—slow, steady, like a flicker of life trying to push back the cold. A faint pressure on your side. You could feel Eddie’s hands trembling on you, but there was something else. Something deeper, stronger, as though the bond between you and Eddie was pulsing, alive, trying to fight back.

You didn’t know how long it had been, moments stretched into infinity, but the warmth you felt began to grow, spreading through your body, igniting something inside you. With effort, you forced your eyes open, the dim light from the broken windows above casting a shadow on Eddie’s face. His expression was a tortured mess, eyes filled with unshed tears as they locked onto yours.

"Eddie..." you whispered, the sound rasping from your throat, but just the act of speaking, of breathing, was enough to bring a glimmer of hope.

His name was a strangled sob. He leaned down, his forehead touching yours as though you were the only thing that mattered in the world. “You’re awake... You’re awake.” His voice cracked, the rawness of his emotions spilling out in that single sentence. “I thought... I thought I lost you.”

He was shaking now, barely able to breathe, his hand gently cupping your face. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...” Eddie repeated over and over, as though he could make it all better if he just said it enough. His lips trembled as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. The love and pain mixed in that kiss, raw and unfiltered.

“I couldn’t... let you leave me,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I need you.”

Venom’s voice rumbled from deep within Eddie, but it wasn’t filled with fury this time. Instead, there was a strange warmth in it, almost as if the symbiote itself had recognized the gravity of the moment. “You’re both stronger than you think, Eddie. Together.”

Eddie’s hand slid down to your side, gingerly pressing to the wound, but this time, the blood flow had slowed. The bleeding had stopped. Venom, in his own way, had reached inside, using his healing abilities to stitch the torn pieces of your body together. The symbiote worked quickly, trying to make sure you were stable.

You could feel the pull of Venom’s influence, but it wasn’t suffocating. It was healing. It was saving you.

The moment dragged on, but slowly, you started to feel your strength return, your breathing becoming less shallow, the dizziness ebbing away. You looked up at Eddie, who still hovered above you, his eyes wide, watchful, never leaving your face.

“I’m… okay…” you whispered hoarsely, though you knew it wasn’t completely true. But the warmth spreading through your body, the steadiness returning to your breath, gave you hope.

“Okay?” Eddie repeated, his voice still cracked, but there was disbelief in it, as if he couldn’t quite accept that you were truly waking up, that you were going to be okay. “You’re... you’re gonna be fine. I swear to God, I’ll make sure of it.”

For a moment, it felt like the weight of the world had lifted just a little. Eddie’s hands were still on you, but this time, it wasn’t frantic. It was tender, caring, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were still there, still alive. Venom’s presence—once something terrifying and alien—now felt oddly comforting, like an anchor, steadying Eddie and allowing him to focus on the most important thing in that moment: you.

Your body was exhausted, but the warmth of Eddie’s touch, the bond you shared with him and with Venom, was enough to make you feel like you could hold on.

“We’re not leaving you, not now,” Eddie promised, his voice fierce but filled with relief.

You nodded, tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you reached out with shaky hands to pull him closer, needing him more than you had ever needed anyone. “I’m here, Eddie,” you whispered, your voice soft but determined. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Eddie let out a deep breath, his tension easing as he pulled you into his arms, his body cradling yours protectively. Venom was there too, a steady, comforting presence within Eddie, assuring that they would both protect you—no matter the cost.

“I promise,” Eddie murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ll be okay. All of us. Together.”

As the night pressed on, the city still echoing with its distant sounds, the three of you remained, bound together in a way that felt unbreakable. Whatever the future held, whatever dangers awaited, you knew that you’d face them side by side.

[kurooscopy]

six minutes and fifteen seconds

word count - 1.2k synopsis - it's been a busy week, and celebrations are less than grand, but the only thing kuroo wants for his thirtieth birthday is to spend it with you a/n (ada's notes) - selfship coded as usual, timeskip!kuroo, reader and kuroo and cat daughter makes three ᰔ happy birthday baby

- ᓚᘏᗢ

“i’m back.”

you look up from your book, propping it open against your chest as you hear the click of the front door and kuroo’s voice ringing down the hall. his words sound tired, nearly drowned out by the rain pelting the windows of your apartment, so you add an extra touch of sweetness to you tone when you answer him.

“welcome home.”

he strides into the living room to see you curled up in the corner of the couch. mercifully, he appears mostly dry, courtesy of the old black umbrella left to dry in the genkan.

in his hands are an odd assortment of loose groceries, contained in a plastic bag; loose papers, contained in a briefcase; and a computer’s keyboard, tucked under his arm. quite the motley crew of items, reflective of a hectic day of running errands - the latest of them being a trip to his dad’s, who had rung before lunch complaining of technological difficulties. kuroo dumps his haul unceremoniously onto the bench.

“all fixed?” you ask kindly when he turns to you with a sigh. he doesn’t say anything else, but makes his way over to your nest of pillows and blankets.

it was already a cosy arrangement you had, but there’s an irreplaceable warmth kuroo brings as he settles his weight carefully atop you.

it takes some wriggling and readjusting, but he finally manages to rest his head comfortably on your chest, strong arms wrapping around your waist. his breaths peter out to match you slow, even ones, and your hand finds its way into his hair as you entwine yourself around his larger frame.

if it wasn’t for the way he practically purrs when you scratch gently at his scalp, you might think he’d fallen asleep then and there.

not that you could blame him, with the week the two of you had had. both of you absolutely swamped with work and kuroo’s colleagues dragging him out for pre-birthday drinks had, as usual, left the weekend for catching up on every other chore. add to that saturday night dinner with his dad and sister - it’s now sunday night, and his mother has still not called - and you had spent hardly any of his actual birthday together.

so you let him snuggle in close, relishing finally getting to feel his weight and warmth and the faded smell of his aftershave as his lips press lazily along your collar.

when it gets to the point that your own eyes start to droop, you force yourself to snap out of it.

“c’mon, sleepy,” you murmur against his temple. his hair, made wilder by the day, tickles your nose. “let’s have something to eat. i made your favourite.”

kuroo groans, and his reply is muffled into your shirt. “my favourite is to lie right here for ten more minutes.” it’s hard to stifle the affectionate giggle that bubbles up from your chest, even harder to not let yourself agree with him, but you have to think of the saury currently cooling on the stove.

“five,” you reason. “the fish will go cold, y’know.”

“seven.”

“six.” he says nothing for a moment, until you add, “and fifteen seconds.” now it’s kuroo’s turn to stifle a laugh.

“specific.” his voice is laced with scepticism, but you can feel the smile starting to creep across his face, and that’s good enough for you. “but deal.”

several silent six-minutes-and-fifteen-seconds-es later, the fish is reduced to crumbs on a plate and replaced with the cake you had picked up earlier from the bakery. after lighting the candles, you settle in the chair next to him and watch as kuroo blows them out. there’s no audience apart from the two of you, but somehow it’s better that way. without an audience, you get to watch the reflection of the flames flicker in those hazel eyes you know so well.

he takes it upon himself to cut two slices, handing you the slightly bigger one that you secretly swap back when he gets up to fetch cutlery.

“so, your first-” you glance over at the clock on the wall,” -19 hours of being 30. how does it feel? any grey hairs? how are your joints?” he rolls his eyes playfully as he reclaims his seat next to you, flashing you that cheeky grin.

“so mean to me, baby. if there are any greys, you already know whose fault it is.”

you feign thought before nodding knowingly. “the cat’s, ‘cause she keeps chewing up your ties.”

“touché.”

chuckling, you reach over to the side and procure the neatly wrapped gift you had found for him. well, neat might be an overstatement for some of the folding on this thing, but kuroo’s eyes light up in curiosity all the same.

“lucky i got you these then.”

when he rids it of the paper - again, an overstatement for a wrapping job that was at least forty percent tape - he opens the box inside to reveal a pair of silver cufflinks and a tie covered in tiny black cats.

“now this is genius,” he laughs, unfurling and inspecting the silky material, “she would never attack something made in her image.” the grin doesn’t leave his face, but something more genuine settles over his features as he gazes at you. “thank you, sweetheart.”

he doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t have to for you to know he’s not just thanking you for the tie.

you smile quietly back at him, letting him lean in to press a kiss to your cheek. “of course, my love.”

once the moment passes softly, you take a candle from the cake and stick it into his slice, pulling out your phone. “now smile!”

kuroo raises a playful eyebrow. “why, so you can tease me about my wrinkles?” you shrug defensively.

“you said it, not me, baby.”

he acquiesces once you bat your eyelashes a bit, letting you snap his picture for the low, low price of two kisses. they’re brief, but sweet like the icing on the cake. when you pull away, you don’t go far, running your thumb over the apple of his cheek that’s quickly turning the faintest shade of pink.

“happy birthday, tetsu,” you say softly. “thirty looks good on you.” he turns his head to steal another kiss to the inside of your palm.

“thanks, baby.” he stabs at his cake with the fork, holding up a tiny piece like a toast. “here’s to at least a few more?” you copy him with a laugh.

“at least a lot more, i’d say.”

you eat your piece, but kuroo sets his back down in favour of capturing your lips. it’s tender, not rushed nor desperate - purely an exchange of appreciation and love. his eyelashes flutter against your cheek, peppering their own tiny kisses over your skin, as if every part of him was built just for this. for loving you.

his nose, too, kisses yours as he comes up for air.

“as long as they’re with you.”

you know there’s nothing in the world that could stop them from being so.

[healingpage]

When the home holds you - choi soobin

♡ pairing: choi soobin x f!reader

♡ genre: fluff

♡ warning: none just very soft fluff because it's been a month since his hiatus and i really miss my home soobie :(

♡ word count: 716

The city pulses with its usual blaring chaos— cars honking impatiently in the peak hours of getting off work and the chatter of countless voices that you can’t make out even a word. You drag your footsteps through the crowd, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your shoulders. Everything seems to get on your nerves today, the bus left early before you can catch it in the morning, the barista got you the wrong coffee order, and on top of it the higher ups at work today pulled forward your deadline to resolve a marketing issue.

Your bag slings over one arm, and your phone stays clutched in the other. The notifications have long ago demands your attention, your phone put on a do not disturb since afternoon.

Yet, through the haze of weariness, a single thought brings you forward: You just need to get home—to him.

The memory of his warm, dimpled smile softens the furrows of your brows. Your shared place wasn’t grand—far from it—but it is the greatest sanctuary. The coziest part of the world where all worries dissolve, and the only thing that matters is the sound of his laugh or the way his large arms wrap around you like a shield against everything outside.

The pace fastens as your eyes spots the building, the familiar tune chimes when the access card allows you through. As you reach the highest floor on the building, with the elevator that feels like it’s taking forever to keep you from seeing your darling, you huff a relief sigh when you see the white door, a welcoming sight. Fumbling with the pass and keys, you finally let yourself in. The smell of something savory greets you first, followed by the faint sound of television playing in the background.

There he is. Your lovely Soobin.

Sitting cross-legged on the couch in sweatpants and a hoodie that swallows him whole, he looks up through his bangs as you stride towards him, his face breaking into a grin that eases the tension from your chest. His hair is a little messy, just usually how you like it to be, and his hand holds a mug of tea—your favorite kind you can smell it already waiting for you.

“Hey, baby. How’s your day?” he asks, his voice soft but steady.

You don't answer, not at first. The bag you carry throughout the day drops with a heavy thud on the cabinet by the door before you take a few steps, sinking into his arms without a word. Soobin stretches a bit to put the mug back on the coffee table, giving you space to cuddle into. His warmth wraps around you like a blanket, and for the first time all day, you feel yourself calming down. “I missed you,” you whisper into his shoulder.

“Oh— ‘f course I missed you too,” he murmurs, his hand is gentle when he takes off the claw clip that has been holding onto your strands, and he starts stroking your hair, massaging your head a little bit.

“Feels like the whole world was not on my side today,” you tell him, voice cracking with sadness. His brows furrowed hearing your answer, lips pouting a bit as he takes the clue in your gloomy appearance since you entered.

“But I am,” the answer sounds light hearted, but he means it truly. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head, not wanting to go into details, “just glad it’s all over and you’re here now.”

Soobin’s lips break into a small smile, rubbing your back as he cuddles you tighter. He goes on about how his day went instead, what dinner he plans to get you tonight and the date on this weekend that he plans on going with you. You keep composed and listen attentively, fingers trailing on his hoodie’s string.

And just like that, the tiring day begins to fade away, replaced by the comfort of being home—not a place, but a person. You love coming home to him, hearing his heartbeat as you lay on his chest, his hands that roam everywhere on your body feels like a healing touch. This home holds you close, and you feel a deep sense of belonging, always.

[noyasmashing]

hmm so like a doubting oikawa who thinks he’s not good for you or anything similar after when they lose against karasuno in that one match, and you just show him how much of a good boy he is and reader basically comforts him. can be fluff or smut

ughhh i need him so bad 😔😔

anyway no nsfw in this one! just lots of love!

Oikawa always projected an air of confidence, strength, and a touch of arrogance. It was one of the many reasons why you find yourself attracted to him. So when you first started dating, you never expected how much reassurance he required. But that was okay! you were much more than willing to provide it for your special lover.

However, walking into your bedroom to find him curled up sadly under the warm blanket broke your heart. Deep down, he was a sensitive man, and seeing you being hit on by someone else had shaken him deeply. He resented the way you smiled at the other guy, as if you didn't have someone you loved. His insecurities were running wild; maybe he was right, maybe you didn't love him after all.

As he lay there in that moment, lost in his thoughts, your warm hand gently slid across his waist, pulling him closer. You spooned him, feeling his tense body against yours, trying to offer comfort.

"Toru? Are you alright?" you asked softly against his exposed neck, genuinely worried. He turned to face you, surprised to see the concern in your eyes as you gazed at his sadness.

"I... you hate me," he stammered, his voice shaky with doubt.

"What? No, Toru, I could never hate you. I love you, really," you reassured him soothingly, causing the tips of his ears to turn red in a mix of flattery and relief.

Before he could respond with more of his insecurity, you intervened, saying, “Is this because of that guy I was talking to earlier?”

He nodded hesitantly, feeling a pang of shame for letting such a minor interaction affect him so deeply. "you were flirting," he mumbled, unable to meet your gaze.

Your hand reached up to gently caress his face. "Why would I flirt with anyone when I have you, my dear?" you cooed, your tone full of warmth and reassurance.

As you continued to stroke his face gently, Oikawa felt a rush of relief wash over him. Your words and touch melted away his insecurities, replacing them with a sense of comfort and belonging.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, finally meeting your eyes. "I just... I can't stand the thought of losing you."

You smiled tenderly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. "You're not going to lose me, Toru. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

His tense shoulders began to relax as he took in your words. The weight of his fears seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of your embrace.

"I love you so much," he confessed hiding his red face into the crook of your neck, his voice soft and vulnerable.

Your heart swelled with affection at his cuteness. "I love you too, Toru. More than anything."

[acaaai-t]

3 months and counting

[modern au! scaramouche x gn! reader]

cw: angst, hurt/no comfort, major character death, hints at suicide, probably unhealthy coping methods idk

The taste of bitter coffee and overly sweetened scent of dandelion tea lingered, lingered for a little longer than he liked.

Wilted flowers lay by a small vase of fresh ones. The pile of dead flowers seemed to grow bigger with each passing day.

The house was dim, with the only source of light being a weakly lit candle surrounded by empty dishes and untouched cutlery on the dining table. For a place that had felt so big not too long ago, it suddenly seemed to be so small.

Scaramouche hummed quietly to himself as he gently dusted at the debris that clung onto the picture frames. His touch was delicate as his fingers brush against the cold glass. The tune he has been singing echoed off the walls, traveling down the silent hallway.

How long has it been? He wonders.

Three days? A week? Two weeks? Scaramouche had long lost count.

Once he was sure that the picture frame was clean, he stepped back and admired his handiwork. In this empty house, the only thing that stood out most was the wall of what Scaramouche called ‘memories’. Golden frames surrounded photos of all kind, taken by you and hung by him.

He misses you.

On most days, Scaramouche would stay huddle in what once was a shared bedroom, buried deep beneath the blankets, scrolling through past messages. Dark circles heavily marked his under eyes, a stark contrast to his porcelain pale skin.

For the first month, he was a utter mess. Unable to process the tragic news of your sudden death.

It had just felt like yesterday, when the two of you were just out on a date, laughing and giggling.

The world was mocking him, taunting and laughing, watching the hallow shell of the man he once was as he stood there alone in the cemetery. Flowers previously placed by your grave was removed and tossed away, replaced by a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers.

The night you were buried under the willow tree, was the only night he had ever worked up the courage to sit by your grave, and wallow in the despair.

“I miss you,” the three words etched into his mind, quietly spoken into the empty void.

What about the plans you’ve made with him? The promises of a happy ending, a beautiful future.

Gone… all gone, far too soon.

“Will we get a cat too?” your voice was eager, full of hope.

Scaramouche smiled and pressed a small kiss to your temple. “Whatever you want.”

You giggled. “Let’s get a black cat then. I can see the resemblance between you and them.”

“Hey,” he whined.

You beamed up at him. “I love you.”

How he wished time could’ve stopped right there and then, allowing that precious moment to last for an eternity.

“I love you too.”

God, it was so fucking unfair. Why did you have to be the one to die?

It could’ve been anyone else, but you just had to be there at the wrong time.

He slumped down on the empty couch, cushions and throw blankets sitting in the same spot as before. Scaramouche didn’t dare touch anything. He was scared— terrified that if he even so as much move anything a centimeter away, he’ll lose the remaining parts of you that he had so desperately been trying to cling onto.

Scaramouche had already lost you once, he couldn’t lose you for a second time.

The soft golden glow of the ceiling lights flickered in and out for a brief moment, a sign that the electrical bill was long overdue. It was fortunate enough that the landlord took pity upon him and gave Scaramouche an extension to pay his bills.

3 months.

It’s been three whole months since the accident. Three months since he’s shut himself off from the outside world. Three months he spend crying and grieving, fantasizing scenarios of you and him. He knows it’ll never come true, but he can only hope.

Head barely above water, the bits of hope he has is all that’s supporting his weight, preventing him from drowning. Yet as the clock moves, he finds himself sinking lower and lower.

Two hollow knocks to his door startled him out of his trancelike state. “Who,” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

When the answer was delivered with another two knocks, he spoke louder. “What.”

“Scaramouche,” the muffled voice of Childe floated through the thick wood. “Open the door.”

He scowled, body already moving before his mind had even processed Childe’s words. The door cracked open with a soft creak, a silver of the sunlight spilling into the dark house. Scaramouche squeezed his eyes closed, momentarily blinded by the light. It’s been so long since he’s seen the sun.

Childe’s shadow stepped in and blocked out the light. He gave Scaramouche a tired smile. “Archons you look like shit.”

Scaramouche said nothing and kept his silent gaze on him.

The ginger sighed. “I was hoping you’d come visit… them, with us.”

There were no names mentioned, yet Scaramouche almost instantly knew who Childe was referring to. He felt his body tense up.

“Look, I’m not trying to force you or anything, but we all miss them, and you too, ‘mouche… you haven’t talked with any of us in three month now.”

Guilt gnawed at his heart, eating away yet another piece.

He hadn’t meant to neglect his friends. None of the things he was doing was intentional.

“… I’m sorry,” he whispered, lowering his gaze, unable to keep eye contact with Childe. He fear that if he continued, tears would begin to formulate, and there’d be nothing to stop them from flowing.

“Mind if I come in?” Childe’s voice softened.

Scaramouche felt tears prickling at his eyes. Childe placed one hand on his shoulder, gently giving a pat— and that was what finally broke him. The water droplets fell uncontrollably, rolling down his cheeks. A pitiful sight to behold.

Childe pulled him into a hug and remained quiet. There wasn’t much he could say to comfort Scaramouche’s pain. Everyone was still grieving, him included.

His quiet sniffles slowly died down. Just this one time, he thought to himself, wiping away at a tear. It’s the least he can do.

“Let me get my things,” Scaramouche’s voice was hoarse. A pain-like expression was scrawled across his features as he pulled away from Childe and step back into the shadows of his home.

There wasn’t much he needed to do to get ready. He’d given up on life the moment he was given the news that you didn’t make it. Why he had been fighting for so long, he didn’t understand.

He threw on a simple black cardigan, it was a handmade gift from you to him. In your words, it took you a week and a half to make it— “i hope you’ll like it,” you said sheepishly.

Of course he’ll love it. Cherish it even till death.

He took in a deep breath and went to look for Childe. The medications stored in his pockets jangled against the hard plastic with each step he took.

The last strands of hope snapped, and he sunk. Bubbles floating to the surface as his darkened silhouette slowly disappeared under the void of water.

Tonight, he decided. Tonight, he’ll be able to see you again.

The lights sputtered out as Scaramouche flipped the switch. With the last bits of power it has, the lights illuminated the series of letter sprawled across the glass coffee table— each one address to someone dear to him.

Then it all went dark.

✩ ·┆ masterlist

notes—

— this was fun to write

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[dalchiid]

𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘𝖘

Covetous Namjoon is the gift that keeps on giving.

Pairing: Yandere Vampire Namjoon x Fem/AFAB Reader

Word Count: 6,211

Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Obsession, Mild Choking, Fingering, Spanking, Smut, Biting, Blood

I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.

DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere.

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I'm still working on the OT7 Yandere fic but I wanted to gift you all something. We're paying Alternate Ending Covetous Namjoon a visit. Just a little smut to hold you all over until the OT7 fic comes out 😉

It's so cold out. You can hear the way the wind whistles and it's what initially stirred you from your slumber. That and a weight on your back that sends chills down your form. Your naked back is caressed slowly from the top and down the length of your skin in soothing touches. In soothing kisses. It feels nice but it's not what you want right now. What you want is to sleep some more as you revel in the warmth of the blankets that were slowly pulled from your flesh.

You tremble a little as your skin pricks in goosebumps. It's enough to make the weight on top of you chuckle deeply and spread open mouth kisses across your shoulders.

Whining you blindly reach for the covers that rest loosely around your naked waist. You try to tug it up and over yourself but it's pushed aside.

"No," you cry uselessly. "I'm cold."

The kisses stop for a moment as the person's lips are replaced by gentle fingers.

"Do you want me to raise up the heater?"

Your eyes are still closed but you shake your head nonetheless in response. "I just want to stay in bed a bit more."

The person hums but you know he's not just any person. You've been stuck with him for months now and you guess he wouldn't take so lightly that he's listed as some random person in your head.

He hums again before he pulls back leaving your back exposed to the warm air that feels chilly once his form leaves you.

"I got you something," he says.

You don't dare open your eyes but you feel whatever it is he's holding dangle before your face.

"Namjoon I want to sleep. Please?"

You let out a pained yelp when you feel his fingers pinch your backside and that's enough to get you to open your eyes.

"Don't be such a brat." There's no malice in his tone but you can tell he's not fond of your dismissive attitude right now.

You wish you could sleep a little longer as you had a hard time sleeping last night. You've been having a hard time sleeping most nights.

After the day Namjoon found you you were a shivering wreck of a mess. You cried a lot and that lead to sleepless nights and short naps you cried yourself into. Despite time having passed you still have worries. Most of them about Hoseok and how you're waiting for him to find you again.

You honestly don't know if you'd prefer that over the life you're living right now because it's far from perfect. If anything you think you're living on edge because it's only a matter of time, right?

Last night was no different. It took Namjoon warming up some tea for you and holding you close until you felt your resolve begin to crumble - as it has almost every day because now you're back to square one. You're hooked again. Hooked on Namjoon's saliva the way you were on Hoseok's. It's sad really but you don't have time to pity yourself like you would like to. Namjoon doesn't stand for it. He doesn't like it when you feel sorry for yourself. Instead he prefers you place all of your attention on to him because he believes he can distract you enough. With his kiss and with his body.

Namjoon shakes the bag in front of your face to catch your attention and now with your eyes open you see that it's a gift. A pastel pink bag covered in glitter. You don't reach for it at first but all it takes is for you to see the way Namjoon's brow raises in silent question for you to take it.

Slowly you grab for it and once it's in your hands he lets go.

It feels pretty light. There is a slight weight to it and you briefly wonder what it could be. You look over to Namjoon who rests on his side of the bed perching his head on his open palm.

"What is it," you ask.

"Why don't you wash up and put it on. I'll wait for you right here."

You frown at his demand but you know you don't have much say when it comes to him. Whatever it may be - it's Namjoon's way.

You get up from bed and hold the bag close to your naked chest. It's not like he hasn't seen you naked before but you always feel so seen around him. Naked. Figuratively speaking. Raw. You feel raw with Namjoon. It's nothing like with Hoseok who over time you grew used to being naked around each other. You feel like prey around the vampire and you think you always will be.

Hurriedly you make your way to the bathroom that's connected to this room. The floor feels chilly against your feet forcing you to balance on the balls of them as your toes try to curl.

The bathroom looks pretty similar to Hoseok's which you don't know if it was designed to be that way on purpose or not. When you first walked into it you froze. It sent your mind reeling and when you asked Namjoon about it he only hummed like he was intrigued.

"Interesting," was all he said in response.

You don't think this was a coincidence at all.

You remember asking him how he got a hold on this place. Was it built specifically for the brothers? There weren't a lot of rooms so you figured that was probably a no but Namjoon answered you and stated it's a place he had built for himself. He would come here if he needed some space. No servants worked here so it was only him and now you. Your new prison meant you had more privacy. No one to come fetch you when you're alone and no one to intrude on whatever you and Hoseok were doing.

To be honest you thought that you had a chance to easily escape then. Despite this place being far into the forest which meant any help that there could be was far from your reach. Any cars that come here are by Namjoon's orders. Whether it be because they're picking him up or dropping him off. Or even when the person is dropping off some groceries or whatever else it was that Namjoon needed. Outside of that you thought you still had a chance to leave until one day when you were alone did you realize your predicament. The door could only lock with a key. Both outside and in. There was no way for you to unlock the door and escape and only the gods know how distrustful Namjoon is of you so no he doesn't leave you with a spare key.

That was an Earth shattering realization for you and that meant you had to conform to this new life.

"Don't take too long." You're brought of your head when Namjoon calls out to you. "I have to be at my brothers' after this."

Which means he'll be washing up without you after you put on whatever it is he got for you. He has to to avoid any of his brothers smelling you on him. It's how he's gotten away with it for these past few months.

Is it wrong that you kind of want to get caught? You'll be back with Hoseok... Is that any better than being with Namjoon? You don't know. It's a little too scary to think about.

Placing the gift onto the counter you quickly set things up. From brushing your teeth to taking a warm shower that heats you up from the cold weather that wants to seep into the house. You wish you could stay beneath the water for just a bit longer but you don't want to deal with Namjoon's mouth.

The shower comes to a stop so you can dry yourself. Despite not wanting to hear his mouth you take your time to do your skincare.

You're feeling a little apprehensive in opening up this gift of yours. He's given you gifts before and now with it being Christmas day you're not surprised at all with being gifted something yet again.

You look over to the bag before looking back into the mirror as you take a wild guess to what's inside. It feels pretty light so it has to be clothes. There's some weight to it but not much but you can't even begin to think as to why. You know you'll have to look in the bag eventually so once you're done everything you reach for it with shaky hands.

Opening the gift bag up you pull out the decorative tissue paper from inside. What's inside leaves you feeling breathless but unsurprised. Lingerie.

It's all black and he knows your size because he's measured you before. A lace top that's in the shape of a butterfly up front and thin straps that hold up the back. There are more thin straps - two that stretch along your legs with loops at the end in the shape of garters. Reaching into the bag again you find a matching high waisted double strapped thong.

You sigh because Namjoon buying you lingerie is nothing new to you. He does it quite a bit and because of that you know his preferences being that you place the thong over the garter because he wants to take it off without having to undo everything else.

"What's the fun in wearing lingerie if you have to take it off for sex?"

His words from the past are loud in your head but you get it. Occasionally he'd pull the underwear to the side but again, you've learned his preferences.

Before putting the lingerie on you go to toss the bag onto the floor but you feel something shift in there and you're reminded of the weight you felt in it from before. Curiously you peak inside the bag and see something else that has your brow raising in interest.

You reach in and take out a bondage collar. The leather is thick and holds three o shaped rings. One in the middle and two on either side. On the middle one there's a black heart shaped charm that when you turn it around you see the word 'Princess' engraved into it.

You can't help but to huff a laugh. Both in indignation and something else. You were interested in this collar that's for sure but you weren't going to admit that to Namjoon. Otherwise he'd think he was winning you over somehow.

Much like Hoseok you... tolerate your captor but it's because what he can provide for you. Providing his saliva that leaves you susceptible to his advances. You don't think much of it because it's what you want, but there is one issue. Namjoon enjoys toying with you. Meaning he enjoys withholding from you his saliva until you're practically begging him for it. He has a power trip knowing he can make you beg for him to do anything and everything. Him leaving you stupefied until you're begging for more than just his saliva. It's annoying really and on more than one occasion you've fought back. Mouthed off at him. You know you hit a nerve when he flexes his jaw but despite that he manages to reign you in. Eventually...

Looking into the mirror you bring the collar to your throat and strap it on like a belt. It doesn't feel too tight but it's not loose enough to hang. Afterwards you put on the lingerie that slips over your body perfectly.

Heaving a big sigh again as you look at your reflection you roll your eyes before heading out of the bathroom and into your shared bedroom.

On the four poster bed Namjoon awaits you. He's typing something out on his phone and when he's done does he grace you with his attention. It starts off small but then his smile widens until his dimples show.

"Come here." He extends a hand out towards you.

You tongue your cheek and try to make yourself look as uninterested as possible because you're both clearly wanting different things. He wants sex and you want your high. They oftentimes come together but it depends on how much you annoy him at first.

You walk over and crawl across the bed to him. His hand slowly retracts the more you crawl towards him until you come to a stop once you're straddling his waist.

Namjoon looks you over with a bite to his bottom lip. His hands come up to rest atop your thighs where he runs them appreciatively before his eyes roam up to watch the way the heart shaped charm jingles against the metal when you scoot up more. His smile just turns absolutely devious and with a finger he loops it through the o shaped ring that holds the charm and tugs you forward.

"Like your present, princess?"

You don't give him an answer but it doesn't stop him from laughing.

"You look good enough to eat."

"Not until I have my hit."

Namjoon's brow raises and his smile falters a little.

Strike one.

"You can have what you want after I've had my fill of you." He goes to grab your waist and flip you over but you fight to keep upright.

Strike two.

"Y/N," he warns.

"Namjoon," you bite back in a mocking tone.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as you see him trying to calm down. You're so close to a strike three and you know it.

You hop off of him and sit by his side. Your arms cross as you huff and now you wait to see what he has to say.

Namjoon sits up and looks over to you with the eyes of a dragon. That's what you liken them to whenever he stares at you like this. He's clearly upset but there's something else in that look of his and it's that your attitude is turning him on.

"Why are you such a brat?"

You give him a deadpan look. "You made me this way."

His brows shoot up and he has to fight to control his laughter. "I made you this way?"

Nodding you look off towards the side. You know you shouldn't but you can't help what you mumble next. "I was never like this with Hoseok."

There's a stillness in the air and before you know it you're pushed onto your back with Namjoon straddling you.

Strike three.

His hand comes around your neck and if it weren't because of the collar you're sure he would choke you.

"What did I say to you about mentioning my brother's name in front of me? Hm?" There's a slight tremble to his voice as anger surges through him.

You wriggle uncomfortably beneath the vampire and bring a hand up to claw at his own. You grunt at the discomfort but it doesn't stop him.

"I'm sorry," you strain out.

Namjoon laughs. "You're never sorry, Y/N. It's the same shit with you all the time."

He brings his face closer to yours and bumps his nose against your own. His lips ghost over your own and you find yourself parting them for what's to come.

His tongue slips out to roam across your awaiting mouth but when he feels your own peek out he pulls back. You whine at the loss of contact and it takes everything in Namjoon not to laugh.

A smirk breaks across his face as he eases up his hold around your neck. "You think you deserve it after saying what you said?"

Your hand that clawed at his one holds him tight and without resistance from his end you move it until he's cupping your breast.

You give a half hearted moan. "Please?"

Namjoon huffs a laugh. "You're so pathetic, but all mine."

His words do hit a nerve that you try to ignore. It'll only sour your mood the more you think on it but there's a lingering pain left behind. It's quickly smoothed over though when his hand cupping your breast begins to make a descent towards your sex where you're not quite wet yet and you know he knows this.

He hums and looks down to admire your lace clad body. His pointer finger follows along the design until it finds your clothed sex where he applies pressure over it in search of your clit.

"How wet can you get for me," he asks.

You know he's not really interested in a response but you say something anyway.

"As wet as you want."

This makes his smile grow wide until his dimples show. You're complying with his advances but you both know it's because you want that high. You'll do anything for it. Even if it means that you'll make a fool out of yourself.

He slips his fingers across the length of your thong until he pulls it to the side to expose you for himself. His index and middle fingers run along your slit where slowly but surely you begin to grow wet with your arousal and it makes him groan.

"You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

You look off towards the side in embarrassment but Namjoon isn't having any of that. With his other hand he grips your chin and directs your attention over to him.

"Don't tell me you're growing shy on me," he laughs. "After how many times I've had a taste of you?"

Your eyes shift around as you try to just revel in the feel of him but the more he talks the more you grow annoyed.

You huff in irritation and it catches Namjoon's attention.

He raises a brow at you all the while his fingers rub against your clit. "Care to share what's on your mind?"

No actually because you know if you tell him to shut up and get the act over with so you can get your high it will only entice him to do otherwise.

Your silence is loud and it makes Namjoon suck his teeth in a mocking way.

"You always have something to say. What is it," he asks with a smirk. "Too afraid of risking punishment?"

There's a small pout on your lips that quickly parts in an o shape when he slips a finger inside. He curls the digit over and over again and it has your legs trembling just the slightest bit.

"You know for someone who talks a lot of shit you're very quiet right now. I may have made you into a brat so go ahead. Act like one."

Your eyes are directed onto him and they squint in suspicion.

You know Namjoon enjoys punishing you and clearly he's trying to get you to talk so he can do so again. The question is if you're going to fall for it or not. The faster you get through this the faster you can get your high but you also can't give up the chance to mouth off at Namjoon. Does that make you a masochist? Maybe but it also brings up the thoughts on whether you enjoy doing these things with Namjoon. You don't like to think about it the same way you didn't like to think about it with Hoseok. You're doing this for yourself you reason so it's alright you guess.

"You want me to act like a brat?" Your eyes close in pleasure when he adds a second finger in. "Then how about you do a better job in fingering me first."

You have to stop yourself from whining when he stops all together. You're about to open your eyes to stare at him but they're quick to stay shut when you wince in pain.

Namjoon spanks your cunt once then twice. "There she is. I was wondering where she went."

You clench your teeth together in mild frustration. "Yeah she's here and what? It doesn't change the fact that you're doing minimal effort to get me off."

You can't help the way your eyes widen when you feel Namjoon grip your face. It's with the hand he wasn't touching you with and he holds on to you hard. He's giving you those dragon eyes again as he observes you. You can't tell if your words were too much and maybe now he's pissed. You normally don't complain about the pleasure he gives you or lack of so this is kind of new to you.

He softly shakes your head side to side as he tongues his cheek. "Anything else you have to say?"

You huff in disgruntlement. "Yeah. I hate you."

A chilling grin overtakes his face. "I know, princess."

Your hand comes up to slap his own off of your face but he barely budges.

"You can be so ill-mannered you know that," he says in an almost concerned tone of voice. "Where did I go wrong with you?" He doesn't give you a chance to answer when he roughly turns you over onto your front. "Did I spoil you too much?" He places a hand on the back of your neck and holds you down. "Or is it just because you like getting me riled up?"

You grunt but arch your back when his other hand glides softly along your spine. He chuckles at this.

"I'm guessing you enjoy this as much as I do otherwise you'd give me a harder time than you already do."

Your eyes squeeze shut when his fingers find their way back to your sex and sidesteps your thong to dip them in. The feeling makes you moan and it makes Namjoon chuckle. The sound of it just makes you want to roll your eyes beneath the lids.

"I do it for the high," you admit.

Without a second to process anything you gasp when Namjoon strikes your right cheek.

"Oh I know you do you little shit," he curses. "But that doesn't take away the fact that you enjoy it whenever I touch you."

He's right but you're not about to admit that to him.

"You wish."

Another smack comes down but this time it's your left cheek. You can't help the way that you gasp again. Even more so when his fingers find themselves in you once again. This time the two digits go fast and hard into you and the feeling has you moaning out loud.

Your hands come up to grip the comforter all the while Namjoon pleasures you. It's insane how good he makes you feel but again you're not about to admit that to him.

He pulls his fingers out of you and you cry out from the loss of them. You try to sit up but his other hand keeps you firmly down by the back of your neck.

"Fuck Namjoon," you whine.

"What was that, princess?"

Gritting your teeth together you writhe as you try and find a way to get up. "I said fuck you."

Two loud smacks for each cheek has your head growing hazy from his sadistic pleasure. It's a euphoric feeling in of itself and it just makes you crave the inevitable high even more.

His fingers find their way inside of you again and it's a torturous dance of pleasing you to spanking you even if you don't mouth off at him. It has your mind reeling with you unsure if you were coming or going. All you understood and felt were a mixture of things. Almost like hot and cold with what Namjoon was doing to you. Hot from the heat he was creating inside of you and cold from the chilling feeling of being physically marked by him. It brought tears to your eyes that remained closed in absolute pleasure.

At some point Namjoon stops all together to let you regain your breath.

All that's heard in the room is your heavy breathing and your heart beat in your ears. The weight of his hand on the back of your neck is still there and it becomes even more apparent when he applies more pressure.

"How are you feeling, princess?"

His question to you sounds genuine and it's moments like these that you have to remind yourself that you're doing it all for the high. His concern for you will not shake you. You won't allow it.

You clear your throat before nodding. "Good."

He finally releases you and pats you on your backside. "Stay there," he demands and you listen because you're too out of it to say or do otherwise.

Your eyes remain closed but you're aware of the way he moves around you. You know what's coming next and your skin pricks in anticipation.

Namjoon presses his front to your back where you feel the lukewarm touch of his naked skin. A hand comes down to take your thong by the straps and slowly ease it down your thighs until they rest above your knees.

"You smell divine," he says beneath his breath.

Your face flushes with heat as he peppers kisses along the back of your neck and shoulders and it's with a soft gasp do you react when you feel the weight of his cock pressed up against your ass.

He cages you in with his strong arms and with a hand he grabs your chin to angle your face towards him. He's smiling at you but the way one would when they have their prey right where they want them and you are very much where Namjoon wants you.

"Bear with me for a little longer and I'll give you what you want, yeah?"

You know he means about his saliva and though the idea of having to wait more time to get it leaves you feeling glum at least you're almost there.

He releases your face from his grip and with one hand he guides his cock towards your entrance.

He's thick and though you've gotten used to having him inside of you it doesn't change the fact that you have to deal with the initial stretch each time. Your eyes shut when he prods at your entrance - running the head up and down your slit. When he's satisfied with what he's done he pushes forward until his head breaches through your hole.

You let out a sound that's a cross between a moan and a whimper of delight. Namjoon grunts when he feels your walls clamp down on him and shushes you gently as a way to get you to relax for him.

"Relax," he says softly. "That's it. Good girl."

You screw your eyes shut the more he goes in and though there's a stretch what you mostly feel is pleasure.

A long drawn out moan comes from deep inside of you when he reaches the hilt and he's snug within you.

Namjoon releases a shaky breath and rests his forehead against your shoulder. He's letting you get used to him before he makes a move and you're appreciative of that.

"Tell me when," he whispers.

You have to fight to keep your walls from fluttering around him but you can't help it. He moans every time you do and he has to grip your arm to ground himself. The feeling of his grip helps ground you too and so with a nod do you let him know to go on.

"Do it."

Namjoon wraps an arm across your front and holds you close to his chest and with that you brace yourself for what's about to come.

His legs are on either side of yours caging you in and from there does he begin to piston his hips. He goes fast and hard jostling you up the bed. If it weren't for his hold on you you're sure you'd bump into the headboard.

You gasp and moan at the way he pounds into. You're left feeling breathless as your body tingles from head to toe. Gripping the sheets beneath you your eyes begin to water as your body is completely ravished by your captor. You don't want to admit it out loud but even then he knows how you're really feeling by the noises you make.

He's making a mess in between your legs. Your arousal gushes out of you with every push and pull of his hips leaving your inner thighs sticky and wet. In any other situation you'd feel embarrassed but he's making you feel so good you can hardly care.

From this angle his cock drags over the roof of your cunt just right. You're practically panting at this point because of it.

With a particularly harsh thrust you cry out loud and it makes him chuckle.

"Feels good, princess?"

You clamp your lips shut and breathe heavily through your nose.

"Oh don't get so quiet now. I know you love this," he laughs. "How about we try another position? Shall we?"

Without giving you time to think he pulls out of you and flips you over onto your back. You gasp at the sudden movement and before you can complain he spreads your legs apart and slots himself within you once again.

He's back to a brutal pace but keeps you close by slipping his arms beneath you and holding your shoulders in his hands. The move keeps you where he wants you - under his control.

Your eyes are shut but it doesn't stop a tear from leaking through your lashes. Even though you won't admit it out loud you are feeling good. More than good. With your back arching off the bed your breasts press up against Namjoon's front making him groan. The sound makes your walls tighten around him causing him to groan even louder.

"Keep doing that princess and I just might come."

You open your eyes and staring back at you are his icy blue ones. His frenzy is active and you know sooner than later he's going to need to feed, but not until you have what you want first.

Your lips part in waiting making Namjoon's brow raise in interest.

"Please," you beg.

He comes to a slow stop - sweat trickling down from his hairline. A dimpled smile takes over his face as he shakes his head. "You're so impatient, baby."

The way he stares at you like he adores you makes your stomach roil a little.

"Please Namjoon. I can't wait any longer." Your words come out with a whine.

He looks over your features in a sudden silence with nothing to express but that doesn't last for long.

He huffs a laugh. "I'm feeling awfully nice today since it's the holidays so yeah. Why not?"

Your pleading eyes widen a little in excitement and it makes him chuckle.

Without a second to waste Namjoon leans over to kiss your lips. You meet him halfway and immediately peek your tongue out to run across the seam of his lips. There's little resistance on his end as he parts his own and slips his tongue out to meet with yours. Then it hits. Pure elation. Pure euphoria. Pure ecstasy. It doesn't matter how many times you get it. It just gets better and better each time.

The kiss is long and deep with passion. Your tongues grind against one another in a sinful dance that's made of pure lust. Maybe if you weren't so far gone you'd be ashamed but that's not the case right now. You're enjoying yourself too much.

Your hands come up to Namjoon's back where your fingers dig into his flesh. He pulls back to hiss in pain but you don't miss the way his cock twitches inside of you.

Everything about how you feel right now is superb. You're on cloud nine. You can't help but to close your eyes and revel in the feeling. Even more so when Namjoon picks up where he left off. He's back to fucking you fast and hard to the point that you're left gasping. The man knows what he's doing. He's hitting all the right places that have you seeing stars.

Your walls start to flutter around him indicating that you're close. It forces Namjoon's hips to stutter.

"Fuck," he curses. "Think you can come for me?" Though he asks he knows that you can.

He switches his position slightly so that he's kneeling and brings a hand down between the two of you. His deft fingers quickly find your clit where he rolls the pearl around until you vocalize the pleasure he's giving you.

Behind closed lids your eyes roll back as you whimper and moan. You're so close and there's little else that needs to be done to make you fall over the edge. Just one more roll of his fingers and you gasp before a long high pitched whine breaks free from deep down in your chest. Your legs begin to shake as your walls clamp down on Namjoon. He chokes on a moan but it doesn't stop him from moving.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he grits out.

You don't see the way he clenches his teeth and how he bares them in unbridled rapture. He pushes forth - on and on until he suddenly stops. His hips jerk forward and he's spilling all he's got deep within you. You feel the way he empties inside of you filling you up to the brim. It's something you can never get used to but it's not a bad feeling. It has you sighing before the next thing to happen happens.

Namjoon's teeth bite into the side of your neck and hard. It makes you wince slightly but the high helps stave off any pain you would have felt otherwise. You feel the pull as he sucks your blood and it's a bit odd. Having your life force being pulled from you is an... interesting feeling. Especially when you're higher than a kite.

He takes from you a bit more before he stops and heals your wound with his tongue with a long and slow swipe. You hum at the feeling and he responds back with a hum of his own.

"You alright," he asks softly.

You hum again with a barely there nod.

When you're like this it's oftentimes best to just let yourself be. You don't enjoy any interruptions as you go through the motions of your high but you know Namjoon is being innocent when it comes to checking up on you.

He leaves a kiss on your forehead before pulling out and it makes you hiss. You're so sensitive down there. So much so that not even the high can mask the feeling.

Your eyes are shut so you don't see what Namjoon is doing but you know what his course of action will be. It's just a moment of silence before you jump a little at the feel of a warm washcloth between your legs. He cleans you up well and urges you to push to get some of his cum out. It's at this point the high starts to slowly leave you but the residual effect prevents you from feeling any sort of embarrassment as Namjoon cleans you up.

Without a word, once he's done, he heads to the bathroom where you know he'll wash up. You didn't forget that he needs to cleanse himself of you so he can go and see his brothers. They are no doubt waiting for him patiently or impatiently. For a brief moment you think of Hoseok. You wonder how he's doing ever since you left. You never bothered to ask Namjoon on how his brother has been because you never forgot that your captor has a penchant for lying. Who is to say he'll tell you the truth or not? Even then do you actually care to know? You don't know.

You curl up onto your side as sleep slowly starts to take over your hazy brain. Your semi-naked state trembles as it seeks warmth but you can't bring yourself to move and cover yourself up. Call it laziness or whatever but you can barely care.

You're in and out of consciousness all the while thoughts, meaningful and meaningless, flit across your mind. Neither here nor there - just simply existing. It's in this state do you register the sounds Namjoon makes when he comes back from showering. You know he can hear the way your breathing pattern begins to ease up so it's without a doubt in your mind that Namjoon knows you're about to fall asleep. Still, he checks up on you before tugging down the sheets so he can lie it over your body. As soon as the covers blanket over you goosebumps line your bare skin from the warmth. In response you give a pleased hum.

"I'll be out for a while." You vaguely register Namjoon's words. "Rest up and I'll see you later."

You give another hum though this time it's in acknowledgement despite how sleepy you're sure you sound.

"Merry Christmas, princess," are the last words you hear to keep you company until your captor comes back to you. Until you're back in his arms and until he'll have you again.