#What to do when your heart is full of love for something that doesn't exist yet!!
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novatheastropirate · 6 months ago
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I can't wait to have kids someday!! You mean I get to hold this entire human in my arms and give them the entire world? You mean I get to show them the wonders of living, tell them that they are my wonder of living until I'm blue in the face, and teach them to love themself like I do??
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polarisjisung · 16 days ago
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ꨄ X-O, KISS ME, DON'T SAY NO
KISSES WITH ENHYPEN
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pairings: enha x fem! reader genre: fluff wc: 1k warnings: use of petnames, slightly suggestive notes: I wrote this for dream had to do it for enha too ! | LIBRARY
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HEESEUNG — desperate, flirty kisses
A simple peck doesn't exist for Heeseung. You're like his drug, once he gets a taste, he's addicted. Quick morning kisses are impossible. One peck on your forehead easily turns into a full makeout session and suddenly you're late for work. And not for a second is Heeseung worried about your impending anger, instead he'll try and convince you to call in sick, no work meant more time for kisses, right?
“Heeseung, I have places to be” You know it's no use arguing but you seem to try anyway.
You'd been in this situation countless times before, and it ended the same way each time. In your defence, Heeseung was pretty good at convincing.
“Yeah, want me to list a few?”
Something about a kiss-driven Heeseung is so exceptionally flirty. You both know that you're never getting out of this your way. “My arms, the bed, against the wall if you're into that.
Okay maybe you didn't take much convincing either.
“All of the above?”
Heeseung can't dispute that.
JAY — forehead kisses
Jay's kisses are spontaneous, but so tender and loving, like a scene cut out straight from a high school romance.
You're perched up on the sofa with your nose stuck in one of those picture-perfect romance books you love so much.
Jay can barely make out your face from the material of the hood pulled over your head.
You look cute. There's a pair of blue light glasses resting on your nose and your eyebrows are furrowed with concentration. Jay couldn't help but leave a soft peck against your forehead. He takes a couple moments to just sit beside you and stare, truly wondering how he ever got so lucky.
Next thing you know, his hand moves carefully to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb positioned just under your chin, guiding you into a slow, soft kiss.
JAKE — messy kisses
Jake kisses like a man starved.
Hands tugging at your hair, arms around your waist, loud, shallow pants filling the room. It's like he can't get enough.
He pulls back to stare at you, breathless. But only for a moment.
To Jake, catching his breath seems awfully difficult when you're staring up at him with swollen lips and a sultry gaze.
“I could kiss you forever.”
His words are more a promise than a statement, and how could you not believe him when he pulls you back in so impossibly close, letting his cold fingertips run across your skin.
Both his hands cup your cheeks, passionately. Lips moving over yours with an unsteady, fervent rhythm, and so much urgency, you swear you feel your heart beat out of your chest.
Each time you kiss is like the first, brash. But Jake always holds you so tight, like he's afraid you'll disappear the second he lets go.
When he does finally pull away, Jake exhales a soft laugh, giggling almost.
“You alright?”
You can only nod, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
SUNGHOON — distracted kisses
Playful fights or debates like whether orange juice is better than apple (it's not) or whether milk comes before or after the cereal always seem to arise with you and Sunghoon.
Part of it has to do with the fact that Sunghoon thinks you look so insanely fine when you're passionately arguing your point forwards.
But somewhere along the way Sunghoon stops listening to what you're saying, eyes zeroing in on your lips when he'd come to a sudden realisation. That shade of lipstick suited you, a little too well maybe.
“Hoon, are you even listening?”
He nods, he's not listening.
He wouldn't have this problem if the lipstick wasn't there. But you were still explaining in full detail, hand gestures and everything. And as much as he loved to hear you ramble, Sunghoon could not concentrate.
He was going insane— he needed to kiss you. Now.
You don't really know why you continue, seeing as Sunghoon's clearly not present, but you can't help but gasp when he pulls you in close and crashes his lips to yours.
“You're right, I wasn't listening”
JUNGWON — soft morning kisses
Soft and intimate, that's what kissing Jungwon feels like.
There’s quiet whispers of ‘I love you's’ and the sweetest compliments.
Even if you've just rolled out of bed, when your hair's a mess and your eyes can barely open all the way, Jungwon thinks you're beautiful.
“Good morning my love” he presses a kiss to the back of your head, just below your ear as he slips past you on the couch, making his way to the kitchen so he can check on breakfast.
But he can only stay away for so long, running back a few minutes later with your morning coffee and a couple kisses to keep you occupied while you wait for it to cool down.
“I love you.” he'd keep it short and sweet, holding your face in hands with so much care. By the time breakfast is ready, not a single inch of your pretty face remains unkissed and that's an achievement Jungwon is insanely proud of.
SUNOO — giggly kisses
You and Sunoo are like the epitome of PDA— cuddling, quick pecks on the cheeks, always holding hands— you have to have your hands on each other at all times. It's sickeningly sweet.
And matters only get worse when your behind closed doors, Sunoo would spend all his time with his lips glued to yours if he could.
He's obsessed with you, and your strawberry flavoured chapstick is anything but helpful. He needs kisses, no matter what it is you're doing.
“Sunoo, I'm busy.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, but he only shrugs, spinning you around on your desk chair.
“Too busy for kisses?”
When you nod, it's Sunoo's turn to roll his eyes.
“Wrong answer.”
And he crashes his lips to yours just as he had intended, illiciting a few giggles from you, laughing at his urgency.
NI-KI — kisses in the rain
Kisses never last too long with riki, quick pecks, passionate and loving but short. Long kisses, something you'd both be down to try but had never actually made the effort to. It's felt scary, awkward, maybe?
The two of you always had a more easygoing relationship, so your more affectionate gestures had always been kept to a minimum.
Until one night when your car broke down and you found yourself stranded in the middle of nowhere.
Rain pelted down from the sky and the wind whistled loudly, but even so, you'd be a fool not to step out of the car and watch the sunset in person.
You and Riki sat with your legs crossed, dangerously close to the cliff edge, bodies pressed against each other as an attempt to conserve heat.
There was something about that moment— maybe the soft glow of the sky as the sun dipped just below the horizon — or the way your eyes beamed and sparkled as each strand of your hair slowly grew wet. Something so raw.
Riki couldn't even bring himself to hesitate, pulling you into his lap in one swift motion and kissing you urgently.
One hand reached back to grip your hair, and another cradled your chin, guiding your lips further into his.
Safe to say, kissing in the rain might just be his favourite.
taglist: @chenlezip @nanawrlds @mystverse @jenobubbles @flaminghotyourmom @lotties-readings
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gotta-winwin · 2 months ago
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OT13 Reaction -- the aha moment
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or...how they realize they're in love with you
seungcheol doesn't get that aha moment, falling in love isn't something that happens within seconds for him. it's like he's slowly drifting into love, not even realizing you've become the focal point of his entire existence. when it finally hits him, it's a quiet, simple moment. he's watching you make him breakfast in the morning, admiring you quietly from the kitchen counter. he zones out for a moment, blinking suddenly and realizing damn. that's my woman. and he knows he's ruined for life.
it's kind of silly, how jeonghan realizes he's in love with you. he's just returned home from a busy day at work, entering the house to find it empty. searching the place top to bottom, he's about to call you when - BOO - you jump out from one of the closets and scares the soul out of him. he's clutching his chest, watching as you collapse onto the ground in a fit of giggles. he can't help but laugh along, realizing through the chaos that he's found his soulmate, and he'd be damned not to admit he's in love with you.
joshua's a simple man by nature. he's easily happy in life, only needing his members, his job, his lifestyle, and of course, you. it doesn't take long into your relationship before he realizes he's in love, as the two of you take a stroll along the Han River after a long day. he's watching the setting sun reflect against your figure, taking his phone out to snap a few pictures. it's when he notices his camera roll is full of pictures of you does he think well, that's it. i'm in love.
upon meeting his family, jun notices how much work you've put into it. you're doing your best to speak his town's dialect, communicating with his parents in a language that made them most comfortable. his heart swells when he sees you amidst his childhood home, trading stories and eating with the people who raised him. it's when he notes that you look so perfect here that he realizes you just fit. he's in love.
as if everything else is with soonyoung, his aha moment is full of fireworks and pizzazz. having just finished the most record breaking performance of his life, he finds himself with one thought only: i want to go home. usually, it's because he's tired. but now, ever since you stumbled into his life, he finds himself wanting, needing, to go home so he can hold you and recite everything that happened today. he's practically thrumming with energy to rush home, and everyone around him sees what is so painfully obvious. he's so in love.
wonwoo's always credited himself to be a loner. not a lot of people can fit with his quiet personality, so when you offer the idea of "parallel play" he's a little confused. his heart warms when you explain that you don't mind doing separate things as long as you're in the same area, understanding that he needs more time to himself than others might. it's when you tell him you love him enough to compromise does he think im so in love with this girl right now.
woozi's used to writing songs dedicated to his fans and members. he sits down for another writing session, brainstorming ideas and the thought of you pops into his mind. he shrugs, thinking it might be nice to mix it up a bit, sitting down to write something about you. it's when he reads his own words back does he realize he's irrevocably screwed and so in love with you. thought about settling down, buying her a house and saying screw the music. yeah, he's in love.
having always been a realist, minghao doesn't necessary believe in true love, or love at first sight. he understands there's going to be someone out there for him, but he's skeptical that that someone is going to be perfect. all his beliefs go out the window the moment he sees you - it's like you're surrounded by a golden glow - and he realizes maybe love at first sight can be real.
seokmin loves and gives as easy as breathing. he's always been a generous guy, and it's when you sit him down and kindly remind him to leave some for himself does he stare at you and realize ok i've found the one. you've become that steadiness in his life that used to be just his members, and you love and give to him like it's as simple as breathing too.
having always been the resident cook, mingyu's eyeing your food creation like it's some kind of poison or drug. he had insisted you didn't need to cook for him, he's always been the cook and doesn't mind it, but you were stubborn and he relented. it's when the first bite blows him away does he realize he kinda misses having someone cook for him too. if you're this good at cooking i might just have to marry you, he says, ignoring how you blush, going back for another bite.
seungkwan's always been the entertainer. he doesn't mind it, he enjoys the fact it's his job to make everyone laugh. but when times get tough and he's in no mood to be the entertainer, you're right there to support him. it's when he gets home to you after a particularly rough day and you welcome him in with open arms, murmuring how he's done well and doesn't need to do more. it's when he realizes he can just be seungkwan - not seungkwan the entertainer, but just seungkwan - and he loves you for that.
vernon never really thought about finding the one. he always just assumed that they would find him. and that's exactly what happens, when you bump into each other at the movie theatre - both there alone just cause. it's when you're enthusiastically going band for band with vernon about movies that he's forced with the realization that shit. maybe i have found the one.
chan's always known he was in love with you. he doesn't like to admit it cause he thinks it makes him sound sappy, but he truly never questioned his love for you. it was a simple thing in his mind - this person makes me so fucking happy - i must be in love. and how could it not be simple for him? he's staring at you quipping about some joke to his friends and he's thinking i love you. he's watching you just wake up from a nap and he's thinking i love you. he sees a text from you on his phone mid-dance practice. i love you. he's always been in love with you because he loves everything to do with you.
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yuujispinkhair · 1 year ago
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Mine
Megumi loves you. He loves you so much that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. But past experiences taught him that everyone always ends up leaving him. He cannot let this happen. He will make sure the two of you get your happy ever after!
Halloween Masterlist 2023
This story is my contribution to @nagumoan 's Dance with the Dead Collab. Thank you so much for organizing this lovely Halloween event, Loni!!
Pairing: Megumi x Reader (female) Genre: Yandere Romance, smut Word Count: 9k Warnings: 18+, dark content, yandere Megumi, unhealthy relationship dynamics, possessiveness, murder (Megumi kills someone, but it's not Reader!!), smut, manipulation, gaslighting, baby trapping, breeding, pregnancy. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
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Mine. Mine. Mine.
The same word keeps repeating over and over again in Megumi's mind as he looks at you lying in his lap. So beautiful. So perfect to him. You look up at him, a small smile playing around your lips, and Megumi's heart throbs.
He smiles back at you while his long fingers pet your hair. His dark blue eyes gaze deeply into yours, letting himself drown in your eyes, in your love, in your trust. You are his. His wife, his lover, his everything. You belong to him, and he belongs to you.
Mine.
Megumi likes that word. It holds a special power. Because what is love if not possessiveness?
If you truly love someone, you should give yourself to them fully. You should commit yourself to them. True love is only true love if it lasts forever. It's the only kind of love Megumi can accept. Everything else is just a lie.
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Megumi doesn't think he is a good man.
He believes there is something flawed about his existence. An inadequacy. It lives in his bones, in his blood, in his soul, filling every fiber of his being.
He grew up thinking that there must be something wrong with him. Why else would his father have left him? It must have been because Megumi was lacking something. Because he was not enough.
He always thought he was undeserving of love. That he was cursed to spend his life in the shadows, rejected and lonely.
Until you came into his life and filled his darkness with your light. You showed him another world, another life. A life full of love and affection. It is safe to say he adored you right from the start.
You didn't let him scare you off with his aloof act, with his sarcasm and eye-rolling and rude comments. You saw beneath that act. You refused to let him push you away. You just smiled even brighter at him, took his hand, and pulled him into your world of laughter and warmth and love.
But the problem with stepping into the light is that you don't want to return to the dark afterward. At least, that's how it is for Megumi. You changed him in a devastating way. You gave him everything but also burdened him with the risk of losing everything.
Ever since the day you came into his life, Megumi has been working on keeping you there.
He put a huge diamond ring on your finger after only one year, staking his claim, giving you a promise, and asking for a promise from you in return.
Megumi doesn't do anything less than forever. Lifelong devotion, lifelong commitment. That's what he offers you and what he needs in return. His dark blue eyes searched for your reassurance when he knelt before you, holding your hand gently but firmly in his, offering you all of him. His life, his heart, his loyalty until the end.
He liked what he saw in your eyes. The love and warmth in them had become his everything. When you said yes and became his wife, Megumi knew he would do anything for you and for this love the two of you shared.
Megumi thinks he isn't a good man in general, but he tries his very best for you. He wants to be good for you. He wants to be the man you seem to see in him.
There is something religious about the way he adores you. There never was a God in Megumi's life. No one deserved that title after what life had thrown at him since he was little. But you, you are godly to him.
And Megumi is dedicated to worshiping you like a Goddess. He is dedicated to offering sacrifices at the foot of your altar. He is committed to protecting you, to care for you, to cherish you. To kneel before you, his pretty face pressed against your wet cunt, his strong hands caressing every inch of your skin, his soft lips kissing you, loving you, worshipping your body.
He is there to make your life easier with an endless row of little acts of service, one after the other. Driving you everywhere, preparing a hot bath for you after work, buying your favorite snacks, giving you backrubs and orgasms. Making sure to catalog all of your reactions to his touches so he learns how to fuck you the right way. The way that makes your eyes roll back and cling desperately to him, moaning how good he makes you feel.
Megumi thinks he isn't a good person, but he is a good husband. Maybe not everything about him is flawed. Maybe there is something that's worthy of love. Because that's what you tell him when you cup his face with both your soft hands and smile at him,
"Oh, Megumi, you're doing it again. I can literally see how you are overthinking. Don't worry that much, darling. Don't make everything so hard for yourself. I love you, Megumi. You're the best husband I could ever wish for."
He huffs softly, but a gentle smile lights up his face as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his tall, lean-muscled body. He rests his chin on the top of your head, loving how your breathing syncs with his as you snuggle against him.
"I love you too."
And yet, even as he says them, Megumi knows that the words alone aren't enough to convey his feelings for you. But he hopes he can show you how much he loves you.
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Fear is a part of Megumi. It was put into him at a young age when the people who were supposed to love him and care for him left him. A mother who died too soon. A father who went to get cigarettes and never returned. A long row of different foster families who only endured little Megumi's grumpy nature and his outbursts of violence for so long before they dropped him. An older sister who did her best to love him and help him, only to get into an accident that made her fall into a coma, leaving an angry, lost, and scared teenage Megumi behind.
It taught Megumi early on that there is nothing in life he can rely on. It taught him that everyone would leave him eventually. It convinced him that some cruel fate was always walking in the shadows beside him, always waiting to dig its claws into Megumi and drown him in loneliness again.
Your light has chased away most of that darkness that haunts Megumi, but a part of it will always remain.
It flares alive when Megumi sees the way your eyes sparkle when your favorite idol appears on the TV screen. When he sees you mouth the lyrics to that guy's song, and you have that little smile on your face and sway your hips gently to the music. A song about love. Do you think about Megumi when you hear it? Or do you imagine a romance with the singer?
It makes Megumi shove the limited edition of the new album you brought home into the trash when you are at work the next day and act innocent when you search feverishly for it. He tells you that he saw it just yesterday evening lying on top of the books you wanted to return to the library after work today. You might have accidentally put it in the bag, and it must have slipped out while you were at the library. You know how clumsy you can be. But it's ok, don't worry about it. He loves you, and now let him kiss you so you forget about that CD!
The darkness flares alive when Megumi sees you carefully applying your makeup and styling your hair in the morning before work. Why do you feel the need to make yourself look so pretty for your coworkers? You shouldn't care about what they think of you.
"Darling, you've already taken up the bathroom for twenty minutes."
He walks up behind you and slings his arms around your waist, long fingers sprawling possessively over your hips as he leans down to kiss your neck. He gets a whiff of your perfume, the sexy one, the one he always associates with you under him, moaning his name and looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes as your legs rest on Megumi's shoulders and he turns his head to kiss your ankle and breathe in the soft traces of perfume.
Cold fear forms a knot in his stomach, and his fingers tighten on your body.
"You dress up like you are going on a date... It's only work. Don't waste so much time on your makeup. Join me on a morning walk instead. Hm? What do you say, my love? The dogs would be happy too if you join us."
He sounds calm, a bit amused even. Carefully constructed criticism, so it won't make you think he is jealous. Megumi knows jealousy is a reason for many relationship problems and breakups. So, he is careful to hide his genuine emotions. He is careful to veil his true intentions behind this mask of playful teasing.
You laugh softly and lift your head to look at him in the mirror. Your small hands land on Megumi's and interlace your fingers with his.
"Aww baby, does that mean you think I look pretty?"
You playfully bat your eyelashes at him in the mirror, and Megumi's lips lift in a soft smile.
"Of course I do. My wife always looks beautiful."
He loves the feeling of your wedding ring pressing against the matching ring on his finger. He trails more kisses down your neck with growing urgency. Maybe he should show you how much he treasures you. Maybe he should remind you who you belong to. Maybe if he fucks you good enough, he will be the only one on your mind while you're at work.
His hands slip under your skirt, pushing it up as he watches you in the mirror, blue eyes looking intently as he brushes his long fingers slowly over your panty-clad pussy, rubbing your clit tenderly through the thin fabric.
He can see your lashes flutter, can see the way your lips fall open, even as a weak complaint leaves them,
"Megumi... not now. I will be late for work..."
But Megumi knows what he's doing, and soon your resolve breaks, and you are putty in his hands, leaning against him as he kisses and caresses you. Whining softly as he pushes your panties to the side and rubs your swollen wet clit in tender circles, spreading your creamy wetness over your silky folds, driving you crazy with his tender touches.
Your hands grab the sink tightly when he pushes two long fingers into your wet creamy heat, fucking you slowly with them until you are on the brink of cumming all over his hand.
His heart feels so full, and he can't help but smile when you tremble in his arms and whine and moan, begging him to please fuck you for real.
You cling desperately to him when he lifts you up and carries you back to the bedroom. You moan his name needily when he fucks you hard into the mattress, in a mating press, pressing your knees to your chest so he can go extra deep, rolling his hips slowly against yours, basking in the sounds of your wet pussy, taking his cock. Feeling light-headed upon hearing the noises you make for him, the soft mewls and loud moans.
He tells you to look at him, so he can get the reassurance of seeing the pleasure on your face and the love in your eyes when you cum for him, pussy clenching greedily around him, milking his cock as if you never want to let him go again.
He groans in satisfaction, eyes finally closing when he feels his orgasm wash over him, his cock twitching and spilling his seed deep inside you.
Afterward, Megumi helps you put on your panties again, pulling them up, even as you complain,
"W...wait, baby. I have to wash up first."
His blue eyes are stern when he looks at you and shakes his head.
"No, go like that. I want you to be my good girl and walk around all day with my cum leaking out of your pretty pussy. Think about me anytime you feel it. Think about how much I love you, darling. And once you come back home, I will fill you up again. Will you do that for me? Will you be my good girl?"
You bite your lip and grin at him, obviously turned on by his words,
"Ok, sir. I'll be your good girl."
You let him pull up your panties again and fix your skirt for you, moaning when he kisses your cheek and praises you for being so good for him.
Megumi feels much more at ease again when he drops you at work. You kiss him goodbye a bit longer and deeper than necessary, your tongue flicking against his, whispering against his lips before you part from him,
"That was such a hot morning, baby."
He feels calm and reassured when he watches you leave the car and slowly walk towards the entrance of the large building you work in. He even sings along to the music playing on the radio on the drive home and hums a little tune to himself when he takes the dogs for a walk in the park before he leaves for work.
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Megumi knows he isn't a good man, but he can't help it.
There is this wolf inside him who watches with cold, narrowed eyes as you say goodbye to your coworker before you jog over to where Megumi is waiting in the parked car for you.
There is this beast inside him that digs its claws into his heart and whispers all those hurtful things into his ear.
Didn't you smile at your coworker a bit too brightly? Didn't you stand a bit too close to him? Didn't you laugh a bit too loud at whatever he said?
Megumi grits his teeth, silently growling at the wolf to shut up and fuck off.
Leave me alone! She loves me. She is my wife.
But the wolf whispers back,
But how long will she be your wife? How long before she finds someone better?
Megumi huffs and hits the steering wheel before he grabs it so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He closes his eyes and counts to ten, trying to calm his breathing.
Just in time before you yank open the passenger seat door and greet him with a broad smile and a loud,
"Heyyy, baby!"
You climb into the seat and lean over to greet him with a sweet kiss on his cheek.
Megumi can't help but reach out to put a hand on the back of your neck, elegant long fingers caressing your skin as he pulls you closer to kiss you on the mouth, a deep possessive kiss, letting you know who you belong to. Hoping that your coworker sees it.
But when he pulls away, Megumi's mask is perfectly in place. Calm, aloof, a soft smile lighting up his pretty face, blue eyes looking deeply into yours as he asks you innocently,
"How was work, sweetheart?"
You sigh and tell him about boring meetings and a workload that is much too high to handle.
He fucks you a bit harder that night, handles you a bit rougher. Harder thrusts, firmer touches. His strong hands capture your wrists, wrap tightly around them, and fix them above your head while Megumi's tall, lean-muscled body presses you down onto the mattress. His face is buried in your neck, groaning softly, whimpering your name and how much he loves you.
He sees the bruises on your wrists at breakfast the next morning, feeling guilt wash over him. Guilt that makes him hug you gently and make your coffee extra good. He breathes tender kisses on your wrists, long black lashes flutter around his dark blue eyes, his voice is low, full of regret,
"It seems I was a bit too rough last night. I am so sorry, darling."
"It's fine, Megumi, please don't worry, baby. I like it when you get so passionate."
Megumi feels the iron grip around his heart loosen. He smiles softly into your hair and kisses the top of your head, wrapping a strong arm around you and hugging you. He likes that you are so much smaller than he is, the way your face rests against his toned chest. The way you snuggle into his strong arms, sighing happily when Megumi hugs you even tighter. The way you seek the safety of his arms and the warmth of his body. The way you trust him so completely.
When Megumi pulls away, he takes your left hand and brings it to his lips to place a lingering kiss on the large sparkling diamond on your wedding ring.
Mine.
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"And then she threw her stuff into a suitcase and just left!"
Your eyes are sparkling excitedly, hands gesturing wildly as you sit across from Megumi at the dinner table, apparently finding great joy in re-telling the newest drama in your friend group.
Megumi doesn't share your excitement. On the contrary, his blood is rushing loudly in his ears. He feels sick. His hand is clutching the steak knife so tightly that it hurts.
He lifts his gaze from the red juices of the medium rare meat building a little sea on the white plate. His blue eyes narrow as he fixes you with a frown,
"And she just threw her marriage away? How long have they been together? Seven years? And she just left him?"
"Megumi! Didn't you listen? He forgot her birthday! And he spent more and more time playing his online games instead of doing things with her! She was frustrated!"
And that was enough to end a marriage?
Megumi gulps hard.
Well, that's how the world ticks, right? That's how people tick. They say they love you, but then they just leave. Promises mean nothing. Words mean nothing. They get forgotten, they get twisted, they get taken back.
Seven years.
Your friend had been with her husband for seven years, and she left him because of minor, unimportant things. Instead of fighting for her love, instead of trying to talk to him and fix things, she picked the easy way and left. Just like the way most people do nowadays.
All those breakups, all those divorces. All those single parents and abandoned kids. All the tabloids are full of celebrities who split up after decades of presenting themselves as the happiest couple ever.
How is Megumi still supposed to trust in love? In you? In your feelings for him?
What if your friends put something into your head? What if one of them voices their doubt about Megumi being good enough for you? What if? What if they give you some crazy idea about looking for someone else who is not as flawed as him?
They already advocate giving up on your partner and acting as if being selfish and throwing relationships away is something one should be proud of and celebrate.
Those people are a bad influence on you. He has to do something about this.
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It's easy.
He calls his cousin Maki, asking her to meet him for lunch, using family business as an excuse. He knows she will not come alone, and of course, he is right. By her side is her girlfriend Nobara, always so chatty, always so gossipy. The perfect person to help him achieve his goal.
Megumi quickly finishes the business talk with Maki, and then it's time to set his plan in motion. A few comments here and there about you feeling down lately because there seems to be drama in your friend group, and naturally, Nobara is all ears, leaning across the table, asking him for more details, grinning broadly as she soaks up the gossip greedily.
He can stir the pot. He can make up lies. He can make them look bad. He can make Nobara become indignant and invested and already typing a text message furiously.
And nothing will ever get traced back to Megumi. No one would ever think he is the type for gossip. He is a very serious and professional man who wouldn't be caught dead indulging in petty things like that. No one will believe Nobara if she mentions Megumi was involved in this.
And the beautiful thing about gossip is that no one ever finds out who started it. Once it gets released into the world, it grows and mutates until it's so messy that it's like it has its own will. No one can tell anymore who said what.
Megumi leaves with a content smile. He set things into motion today. Now, he just has to wait.
It takes three days until he catches you standing in the kitchen, your coffee forgotten, wiping tears off your cheeks and looking miserably up at him as he walks towards you with concerned blue eyes,
"Babe, what's wrong?"
You sniffle against his chest, your warm tears seeping through the thin cotton of his shirt as you tell him about the drama that escalated quickly. False accusations, one of your friends claiming you talked about her behind her back. You apparently said that she was involved in the split up of your other friend because she had an affair with the husband and wanted him for herself. And now all your other friends bonded with that friend, not believing you when you say you never did any of that.
You are crying and clinging to Megumi, sobbing into his shirt,
"They don't want to be friends with me anymore. They kicked me out of the group chat and everything!"
Megumi's arms tighten around you. He knows he is selfish. He knows he is the worst. His heart breaks for you when he feels you shaking in his arms. But he only did what had to be done. He cannot let those bitches put their dangerous opinions in your head. He cannot let anyone come between you and him. He needs you.
He hates himself for causing you this pain. But he can ease it. He can show you that you don't need those women. You already have a husband who loves you and cares for you.
He is your strong shoulder to cry on, offering you his love, his reassurance, and his compassion as he caresses your back soothingly and whispers sweet words to you.
"I am so sorry, babe. You don't deserve that. Please promise me you won't talk to them again. They don't deserve to call themselves your friends after this. And you'll always have me, darling. I am always here for you."
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Megumi hates to be that guy, but he can't stop himself from balling his hands into fists under the table when you tell him about work every evening over dinner. The way your eyes gleam, the way you laugh as you recount the funny conversations you had with your coworkers.
He feels guilty. He knows a good man would be happy for you. But Megumi isn't a good man. And so he sits there stiffly, his fingernails digging painfully into his palms as the jealousy spreads its poison through his blood.
It's not fair that your coworkers get to spend so much time with you. That they have so many inside jokes with you that Megumi simply cannot understand even when you tell him about them. It's not fair that they can make you feel so much. Do you have more fun with them than you have with Megumi?
Probably. He isn't a very fun person. He is too serious, too stern, too controlled. He gulps hard, remembering one incident a year ago when you told him playfully to loosen up a bit. You had smiled and ruffled his hair, but Megumi had felt as if you had stabbed his heart. He had once again felt inadequate. Not enough.
What if you get tired of him? What if you realize that one of your coworkers is a better match for you? That one of them makes you laugh more than Megumi can? That one of them brings more positive energy into your life than Megumi can do?
What if the process of you falling out of love with him and catching feelings for someone else has already started?
Cold fear grips Megumi's heart. He has to do something! You cannot go to work anymore!
But how can he convince you to stay home? It's not like he didn't already try. Megumi is rich. He is the heir of the Zenin family, already a CEO in his mid-twenties. He could easily provide you with everything you need! The moment you were married, he suggested that you could quit your job and become a housewife. He knew lots of women dreamed of this. 
But unfortunately, not you.
You had laughed and rubbed his arm, cooing at him how sweet he was. But no thanks, you wanted to go to work. You liked it there, and you wanted to have something for yourself too!
Megumi's alternate plan had been to ask you to work in his company. Wouldn't it be nice to be in his department? Wouldn't it be nice to be married to your boss?
But you turned his offer down with a smile and a sweet kiss.
"That sounds tempting, babe. But I would hate all the gossip and the accusations. You know how people are. No one would take me seriously. They would all think I have special privileges because I am your wife!"
"So what? Let them talk. Who cares what they think?"
"It would make me uncomfortable. Besides, I already have a job I enjoy and really nice coworkers. I know you only mean well, Megumi. But I don't think it would be good if I worked for your company."
So Megumi had to give up.
There is another option, though. An option that would solve all his problems and bind you even more to him: Having a baby together.
Megumi decides right then and there at the dinner table that he has to prioritize this option. His long fingers dance over his phone display, typing a quick message to Yuuji, his best friend and coincidentally a dad of two little twin boys.
He smiles when his friend replies almost instantly. Megumi puts his phone away and looks at you,
"The Itadoris will come over for coffee this Saturday."
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Saturdays are always one of Megumi's favorite days. Saturdays mean you are at home, where you should be, with no work no coworkers. And this Saturday is even better because you are kneeling on the lush carpet in the living room, cooing at two pink-haired baby boys who kick their chubby legs and smile big, adorable smiles at you.
The thing with Megumi's best friend, Yuuji, is that this guy has so much charm and sunshine vibes that he can draw anyone in. And luckily, his babies are exactly the same. The perfect means to what Megumi hopes to achieve. If the Itadori babies can't convince you to become a mom, he doesn't know what else could!
And Yuuji unknowingly plays his part perfectly, too. He is sitting on the floor, laughing and playing with his twins, talking to you about how happy they make him and how amazing his life has been since he became a stay-at-home dad.
"I really enjoyed my work as a firefighter, but it is nothing compared to the joy I feel at home with the twins! This is the best thing that ever happened to me!"
You laugh and tell him he is doing such a good job, but then you add,
"Aren't you getting bored, though? I mean, as a firefighter, you had a high-energy job, with lots of physical activity and all the emergencies, the adrenalin and stuff. I guess being at home must be boring for you at times?"
Itadori shakes his head and smiles that big, toothy smile.
"Nah, I never get bored! Those two little whirlwinds keep me busy! And I can finally learn so many new recipes! I finally have time to cook and bake! And I work out at home or take long runs with the little ones in the stroller, so I am still just as active as before!"
That night, Megumi hugs you from behind and smiles against your neck as he gently strokes your stomach.
"Yuuji's twins are really cute, aren't they? You seemed to be very smitten with them."
For a moment, he thinks he has you. But then you chuckle softly and caress the back of his hand as you tell him,
"They are so cute. And Yuuji is so proud and so happy. It really makes you think, doesn't it? How would our babies look? What would life with them be like? But it's too soon. I want to work for a while longer, at least. I am so close to getting promoted. If I would take a baby leave now, I could forget that. But we still have lots of time, so it's no problem."
Megumi grits his teeth, counting silently to ten before he replies in a carefully neutral tone,
"Yes, you are right, darling. We have all the time in the world."
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Megumi is a bad man, and he hates himself for it, but he can't help wishing all the worst things on your coworker. That guy with the short brown hair and the glasses. Why is it that he is chatting with you every fucking day after work? Megumi can see it all clearly from where he is waiting for you in the car.
What's that guy's problem? Why is he trying to hit on a married woman? Megumi isn't stupid. He can clearly see what those guy's intentions are! The casual touches! The big smiles and loud laughs. The overly nice farewell.
Megumi wants to get out of the car and punch that stupid smile off that idiot's face! But he has to keep cool. He has to act as if everything is fine.
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Nothing is fine.
Megumi is seething with anger. His vision goes blurry as fear swallows him. It's just a short text message, but to him, it's the same as standing in the middle of the apocalypse.
"Hey babe, some of my coworkers are going out for drinks after work tonight. I agreed to join them, so please don't wait for me for dinner. I will eat something at the bar. I love you!"
His hands are shaking as he stares at the phone screen. Should he feign a sickness? He is sure you would rush home to him if he did that. But no, that will only make him look weak. You don't need a weak man. You need a strong guy who takes care of you.
There is no choice.
"Alright, darling. Have fun. Call me when you're finished so I can pick you up. I love you too."
He throws the phone onto the leather couch in his office with an angry growl. He already sees it all in his head. The chill atmosphere of the bar. The dim lights, the cocktails. The alcohol will make your mind cloudy. And your flirty coworker will use that to his advantage and steal what belongs to Megumi!
His whole day is ruined. Megumi storms out of his office, informing his assistant that there is a family emergency, snapping at her to get things managed for him when she tells him he has several important meetings today.
As if any of that is of importance! Stupid nonsense! All that matters is you!
You, who belong to Megumi! You, who is too kind and sweet and naive to realize what your coworker is trying to do!
Megumi drives home too fast, even though he doesn't even know what he can do at home. He strolls restlessly from one end of the living room to the next, breathing heavily as his mind is in a whirlwind of negative thoughts.
Evening comes, and Megumi grabs his car keys and his coat, jogs down to his car, and drives downtown. It's as if some invisible force pulls him here. As if he is some onlooker of a catastrophe that cannot look away. He needs to be there. He needs to see it with his own eyes.
He hides in the shadows outside the bar, something he has always been good at. When you are an abandoned, grumpy child who gets dismissed as a troublemaker, you learn to become friends with the shadows.
No one pays close attention to him. He isn't suspicious. He's just a tall, good-looking man in expensive dark clothes waiting for someone.
Megumi's chest feels heavy as he narrows his eyes and watches through the window. Your little group sits at a table in the middle of the bar. Happy faces, drinks get raised, laughter gets shared. Your eyes sparkle with joy. Megumi's heart clenches painfully. You are so beautiful. On the inside and outside. Everything he has ever wanted.
But you are in the cozy light of the bar, in the warm room, smiling and laughing and being loved by everyone. And Megumi is out here in the dark, in the cold of the night, all alone, someone who gets abandoned, who gets replaced. Someone who loneliness clings to like a curse.
Your coworker with the brown hair and the glasses sits next to you. Of course, he does! He leans closer to you, brushing his shoulder against yours, turning to talk to you, and you throw your head back and laugh, clearly enjoying what he said.
Megumi's hands ball into fists in the pockets of his coat. A decision is made. Megumi will not lose you. He will mold the world into one where you stay with him. He will control the circumstances, so you have no choice but to be by his side. He will erase everyone who wants to take you away from him. The first one to go will be your flirty coworker.
It's a thought that should be concerning. An idea that would terrify others. But not Megumi. He hasn't been scared of things like these for a long time. He was six when his father left. He was a little child and fended for himself for half a year before people found out he and his sister lived all alone. Megumi isn't scared of using his fists or his mind to take people down who try to hurt him. Violence doesn't scare him. The only thing that scares him is losing you.
It takes a week of planning and observing before everything is perfect.
Megumi picks you up from work and drives you home like every day. He kisses you tenderly as he lets you get out of the car in front of your apartment, telling you that he has to go back to the Zenin building because he still has to make some changes to an important business contract. He drives to his office and makes sure several people see him before he sneaks out and drives to another part of the city.
He parks his car in a sidestreet and walks the rest of the way. His heart is beating rapidly, but his mind is strangely clear. He is a man on a mission. A righteous mission. A husband who ensures his marriage will stay happy.
The black leather gloves feel soft on his hands as Megumi jogs through the dimly lit park. He spots his rival after ten minutes. Megumi follows him slowly, blue eyes observing their surroundings carefully. He feels excited. The thrill of the hunt is sending adrenaline through his veins.
Megumi feels grim satisfaction when he tackles the man to the ground behind a group of trees. He doesn't feel any remorse when he brings the knife down in several precise movements. He can't bring himself to see anything wrong with his actions. He hates bad people, and this guy clearly is a bad person if he is trying to steal someone else's wife. He deserves to die!
Megumi feels elation when he watches with cold blue eyes as the life seeps out of the man who wanted to steal you.
His heart feels light when he finally is back in his car after leaving the cold body of his rival lying in a bloody puddle. He whistles a soft tune on the drive home, feeling as if a great weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
He goes home to you, takes a quick shower, and then slips into bed behind your warm body, smiling when you snuggle against him, mumbling his name with so much love. He makes slow love to you, rolling on top of you, gentle, sleepy sex that makes you wrap your legs around him and mewl cutely as he moves on top of you, deep, slow thrusts accompanied by tender kisses.
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You call Megumi at noon the next day when he is in the middle of a meeting. He excuses himself, taking your call to hear your shrill voice telling him that something terrible happened.
And Megumi smiles while he tells you,
"That's horrible, darling. I am coming to pick you up immediately. Please don't go anywhere without me."
He is a good husband, rushing to your workplace to pick up his distraught wife and take her home.
He wraps you in a warm blanket on the couch and brings you tea. He hugs you, pulls you into his strong arms, and tells you he is there for you, tells you that you are safe with him and that he will always protect you.
And you cling to him, crying, scared, and shaken up, burying your face in his chest, snuggling against his firm muscles.
"It's so... It's so crazy and scary. I mean... I have been sitting across from him in the office for several years! We got along so well! I would even say we were friends! And now he... he is... oh god, Megumi! He just went on a run in the park, and someone robbed him and stabbed him! It's like you aren't safe anywhere anymore!"
You hiccup, pressing your face against Megumi's firm chest, your fingers clutching his shirt tightly. He holds you and cuddles you while feeling elated that you need him so bad.
You call in sick for work for three days in a row, and Megumi thinks he has you. You are shaken up, scared by the fact that someone you know got murdered. A terrifying reminder that life outside isn't safe. You could get attacked anywhere at any time.
Megumi pets your hair and strokes your back, telling you to lock the door and snuggle under the blanket with the dogs.
"They will protect you while I'm at work, my love. You are safe here. Just don't leave the apartment. I will be back in a few hours and look after you."
He thinks he did it. He thinks you finally see that it's best to always stay in here. He thinks he can finally rest assured, knowing his sweet wife will only see him and no one else.
But the relief is short-lived.
You get out of bed on the fourth day, smiling bravely and telling Megumi that you feel better again.
"I can't hide away in here forever, Megumi. I have to get back to work."
He punches the wall when you close the bathroom door behind you, cursing under his breath. Why are you doing this to him? Why can't you just let Megumi take care of everything? Why must you be so adamant about standing on your own feet?
Fear is crashing over him again with thick black waves, pulling him under and drowning him in a sea of desperation.
Everything was fine for a few days! You were here, safe and sound, and letting Megumi dote on you! You were only his alone for a few days, and it had felt like the world was finally at peace, that Megumi was finally at peace! He cannot lose this feeling again!
Megumi is an intelligent man, and that is his curse! He isn't one of those naive fools like Itadori, who is, of course, a kind and amazing person, but he is too trusting, always smiling his stupid sunshine smile and not thinking much when his wife leaves the house to go to work all day and meet her friends and coworkers.
Megumi cannot be like that! He knows things! He knows firsthand how unreliable people are! People change their minds all the time. Even those closest to you might leave from one day to the next.
Love doesn't last. Even couples who have been together for decades suddenly cheat on each other and get divorced.
It all comes down to one thing: You cannot trust anyone. Even the most loyal soul might get weak when faced with too much temptation. And why would you stay with someone as flawed as Megumi if you ever get presented with the choice to be with someone who is perfect?
It's not that Megumi doubts your love for him in the here and now. He knows you love him. He frequently reads the texts you send your remaining friends where you swoon about him. He sees how your face lights up with affection when he does all those little acts of service for you. He sees you cry and sob and whine for him almost every night when he makes sure to fuck you so good that he spoils you for any other man.
Yes, you love him. But this is now. What will be in a year? In five? In ten?
Megumi simply cannot bring himself to be as naive as to believe in eternal love and loyalty. His father made sure to show him otherwise. People like Itadori are so clueless, so naive. But not Megumi. He is always prepared to get left behind again.
It's natural. Feelings fade with time, and then it all depends on other circumstances.
Love won't be enough.
He has to make sure you stay with him, not just because you love him because that love can vanish. He has to make sure you are dependent on him. You have to know you cannot just walk away. He needs to make sure you are financially dependent on him. And he has to make sure you don't have anyone else but him. If you have nowhere else to go, you must stay with him.
He slowly unclenches his fists, forcing himself to breathe calmly. He can do this. There must be a way! He already succeeded in isolating you from that friend group he didn't approve of. Now, if you only weren't so stubborn when it comes to work!
Megumi sighs and runs a hand through his unruly black hair. His gaze lands on a patch of color sticking out from under the carpet before the couch. He frowns and walks over, leaning down to inspect it. It's a red pacifier. Yuuji must have dropped it.
Megumi picks it up and holds it between two elegant fingers, turning it thoughtfully from one side to the next.
Maybe there is one more thing he can do.
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It's a good thing he is so skilled with his fingers. It's difficult to manipulate the packaging of your birth control pills, but Megumi took the day off to execute his plan meticulously. He carefully pulls the aluminum foil off the blister packaging, flushes the contraceptives down the toilet, and then replaces them with some mild painkillers that look identical.
It takes some effort to fix the foil again, but Megumi has steady hands, and he is driven by desperation and a firm conviction.
By the end of the day, he holds the manipulated packaging proudly in his hands.
He feels a tiny wave of guilt when he puts it back into your nightstand. But it vanishes again when he reminds himself that he is doing this out of love. He just wants to make sure the two of you stay together. And he knows that even if you are shocked at first, you will learn to embrace the thought of becoming a mother.
You were so happy when you saw Yuuji's twins! You will be even more delighted when it's your and Megumi's baby that you hold in your arms! He is just giving you what you want anyway. A happy family. Megumi and you, your baby, and two dogs! The perfect family everybody wishes for! You will learn to love your new life!
Megumi waits. Of course, he keeps track of your monthly cycle. It's something he has always done. As a good caring husband, he always wanted to know at which times of the month the hormones would make you act a certain way, make you sad, or make you horny. But now it's like a countdown to Christmas or his birthday.
Megumi's eyes follow you all day, excitement tingling in his veins when he kisses you before you leave for work. You have started to ovulate. Tonight, he will breed you.
You both don't get a lot of sleep that night. Megumi pulls you onto his lap after dinner, kissing you deeply, licking into your mouth with deep, demanding kisses while his graceful hands slip under your skirt to rub your clit through your panties, driving you wild on his lap, making you mewl into his mouth and grind needily against him, so wet that you stain his pants.
He smiles when he steers you to the bedroom, his cock throbbing eagerly against his pants. Tonight, he will make you a mommy.
You look so beautiful beneath him, your face sweaty and damp from tears of bliss running down your cheeks, your eyes closed in pleasure, your mouth hanging open in loud moans and needy mewls.
Your legs rest on Megumi's shoulders, your body writhes under him, meeting every deep thrust of his needily. He can feel your cunt twitch around him, can feel how wet you are for him, how it stains the bed sheets under you. He can smell how fertile you are, that unmistakenly sweet, enticing smell your pussy has when you are ovulating. It drives him wild tonight. It makes him fuck you hard and deep, rubbing your clit firmly to make you cum on his cock over and over again, making your orgasming pussy milk him dry.
You are so good for him, such a sweet wife, such a good girl, taking all his seed so deeply into you. And Megumi makes sure to keep it in there. He lies on top of you, pressing you into the sheets, moaning softly, his heart overflowing with love when his lips find yours in a long, tender kiss while your pussy pulses around his spent cock.
He stays inside you until his cock softens and slips out of you, leaving a hot sticky trail of his seed and your cream on your inner thighs. Megumi watches you with heavy-lidded dark blue eyes as he pushes his cum back into you, fingering you thoroughly with his ring finger and middle finger, watching in fascination as your combined juices drip down his long fingers and onto the wedding ring he is wearing.
He smiles and coos at you, full of love and praise, telling you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you, groaning when he feels your pussy tightening around his fingers.
"Yes, princess, you are such a good girl for me. Cum on my fingers, sweetheart. Fuck, you're so beautiful!"
He smiles as he watches you come undone for him, letting him fuck all his warm seed back into you, stuffing you with it, making sure you keep it all inside.
For good measure, he takes you again an hour later, fucking you deep and thoroughly, rolling his hips against you, making his full balls slap loudly against you, giving you all his fertile seed, smiling when he imagines you holding a blue-eyed black-haired baby on your arm, waiting for Megumi when he comes home after work.
He comes so hard that he almost blacks out, and his loud feral moan is even drowning out your needy mewls.
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Megumi watches you wolfishly. He knows your period should have started three days ago. But every time he checks your stack of tampons and pads, he can see that you haven't used any yet.
He feels a glorious satisfaction as he watches you grow more nervous every day. You constantly leave for the bathroom, probably to check whether your period has finally started, only to return with a feverish look in your eyes.
He waits patiently for several days more so as not to arouse any suspicion. Then he casually asks after kissing you goodbye when leaving for work,
"Oh babe, I'm going to grab some things at the drugstore today after work. Do you need anything? I think you are pretty close to that time of the month, aren't you? Do you need tampons or pads?"
He has to bite his lip not to smile when he sees the emotions flickering over your face. Worry, shame, nervousness. Your lips start to tremble, and finally, you spit it all out,
"I... Oh, Megumi! It should have started six days ago! I am so worried! Like I know it can't be. I... I can't be pregnant... I am on the pill! But... but it's so strange! I have never been late!"
He feigns understanding, smiling gently at you and pulling you against his chest, hugging you comfortingly to his tall, lean-muscled body.
"Aww, please don't worry, darling. It will be fine. Maybe you forgot to take a pill? It can happen so fast. Life is hectic."
He can see your eyes widen. It was a good thing to say. You can be pretty chaotic and forgetful. It's easy to cast doubt and make you believe it was your mistake. He can feel you stiffen in his arms. And when you lift your head to look at him, guilt is written all over your pretty face,
"Shit... that's a possibility, yeah. I can be such a distracted idiot! I am so stupid!"
"No, please don't blame yourself, babe. Really, it's ok. Look, we already agreed that we want to have kids someday, right? So, what if it happens a bit sooner than planned? I don't mind at all, darling. I love you, and I will always take care of you and our possible kids. Don't worry."
You blink rapidly as tears gather in your eyes, and Megumi cups your cheek and caresses it tenderly,
"Why don't you take the day off, babe? We can buy some pregnancy tests and see what's going on. And no matter what the tests say, everything will be fine, I promise you. You can always count on me, my love. We will get through everything together."
You nod wildly and smile gratefully at him as tears run down your cheeks, and you throw yourself into Megumi's arms again, letting him comfort you.
"O...ok, Megumi. Thank you, baby. I love you too."
You are so cute like this, nervous and scared, needing Megumi so much. He drives you back home with only one hand on the steering wheel. His other hand is clutched tightly between your cold fingers. A small happy smile tugs at the corners of Megumi's lips. He likes this. He likes being needed by you.
Finally, things will be in his favor. He knows it.
You are a nervous wreck the whole remaining day, pacing the living room restlesssly until Megumi gets in your way and makes you bump against his tall, lean-muscled body, and he pulls you in his arms, reassuring you, giving you all the comfort and love you need.
Megumi sets an alarm for six in the morning so you can take the pregnancy test. He is already awake, unable to sleep with how excited he is when the alarm starts blaring, and you jump out of bed at the first sound of it, shaking a bit as you look at him with big eyes,
"It's time... ok, I'll... I'll take the test now."
And Megumi is there for you, of course. He is the best husband you could wish for. Caring, loving, devoted, reliable. Megumi is someone you can count on. He smiles gently at you and takes your hand.
"You mean, we will take the test now. I am here for you, sweetheart. You aren't alone."
He leads you to the bathroom. He reads the instructions to you and hands you a plastic cup. He leans against the sink and smiles as you pee into the cup, refusing to leave your side even for one minute. A husband and wife can share every moment after all. There is no shame.
You smile sheepishly at him as you walk over to him, and Megumi takes the plastic cup out of your trembling hand.
"You're doing great, darling. Let me do the rest."
He prepares the test and pulls you into his strong arms, letting you hide your face in his firm, muscled chest, breathing in the comforting scent of the shirt he slept in while you wait for the test result.
Megumi strokes your back soothingly. His lips brush over your earlobe as he murmurs to you,
"No matter what the test says, I love you."
The sound of the alarm makes you jump. Megumi is the one who takes the test off the sink with steady fingers. He already knows what it will say.
"Pregnant."
His strong arms catch you when you sway lightly on your feet. His lips press gently against your hair, breathing a soft kiss to your forehead. You cannot see it, but the smile on Megumi's face is the happiest he has ever smiled.
You bury your face in his shirt, your voice sounds muffled, full of tears,
"I am so sorry Megumi! If only I had been more careful! I... oh god, what if I fail at being a mom? And now you will have so much more responsibility too, and it's my fault, and I..."
He silences your tearful ramblings by making you lift your head and capture your lips in a deep kiss, licking the salty taste of your tears out of your mouth. His heart feels like bursting, so exhilarated, so happy. It's lovely to see you so weak. So dependent on him. He loves to be needed.
He cups your cheek lovingly when he pulls away from the kiss. Dark blue eyes look deeply into yours, almost as if he is trying to hypnotize you and drill his words into your brain,
"You will be a wonderful mom, and I will gladly take on this new responsibility. I love you, and I love our child. I will always provide for you, darling. I will always be yours, and you will always be mine."
He finally has everything he ever wanted. A diamond ring is sparkling on your finger. Your belly will soon be swollen with his baby, showing everyone his claim on you. You will stay at home from now on, far away from anyone who could possibly steal you away from your husband.
And if you decide to return to work one day, Megumi will just knock you up again. He is obviously quite skilled at fucking a baby into you, and he will do it as often as the circumstances require it.
Yes, Megumi finally has everything he ever wanted.
You.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Forever.
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Thank you so much for reading my second story for Halloween 2023!! I am sorry that it got so long, but it was so much fun to write Megumi's descent into madness ;)
I hope you enjoyed Yandere!Megumi!! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!
Once again, thank you so much to Loni for hosting this super fun Halloween Collab!! I could finally write this story after having it in my drafts for two years!!
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mistress-riddle · 3 months ago
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thinking about cuteness aggression but with james and sirius.
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james adores cute things. he's the type to see a cute plushie and immediately buy it because he likes it and he likes having something soft and nice to hold. so surely it's no surprise that he takes a likeness to your cuteness except what you should've realised beforehand was that he was most definitely a squeezer. and with his toned arms from all his athleticism, it was sure to knock the breath out of you every time you succumbed to one of his attacks. luckily, there is a pattern, his cuteness aggression strikes when you're in oversized (his) clothes and if your cheeks are full of a sweet treat. he just thinks it's so cute how soft you look and before he knows it, he's captured you, mid speech, in his arms and giving you an affectionate squeeze as he rubs his cheek against your own, cooing softly about how you're the sweetest and most adorable person to ever exist. he doesn't release you until the next morning when you need to go to the washroom, although very reluctantly because he enjoys being cuddled up in bed.
sirius has a different way of displaying his cuteness aggression and you're quite sure it has everything to do with his spirit animal. he gets random urges to nip at you when he thinks you're looking extra cute. his favourite places to leave a little bite are on your cheeks and thighs, your most supple areas that he adores. he just can't resist it, and it surely doesn't help your case that when he's in one of his episodes of gently nipping at you, you let out the most adorable and delightful giggles he's ever heard that just spurs him on to continue his ticklish attacks. he's obsessed with you and just loves leaving little marks to show how you grab a hold of his heart. (although he's absolutely on board if you reverse it on him and start biting him instead)
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hellsslibrary · 8 months ago
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Hello! There's just not so many sub! Kaiser fics and I'm d y i n g to read those 😔😔
Can I request for a sub! Kaiser x male reader where Kaiser has a praise kink but doesn't ever want to admit it 👀
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#a.n. :This is so same! Kaiser is such a babygirl, I want to kiss him, eat him, hug him, and then rock him in my arms and let him relax... But no, this bitch is always top, lol. Even funny.
"I don't like your damn praise! Just fuck me alre—...What?"
!!Warnings: Bottom!Sub!Michael, Dom!Top!Reader, sex on an indoor football field (it's empty, it just seemed interesting to me, imagine the echo there...), praise kink obviously, Michael tries to be dominant, but he's too much of a pillow princess (he came out so gentle... In his own way), in fact everything is quite vanilla, but he kicks you when he's unhappy, also very romantic in general. × And the reader is somehow connected with football company. You can be a manager, a football player, or even a cleaner there, honestly.
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The football field in the building was closed at night, knowing full well how persistent football players in the leagues can be. Darkness, silence, idyll... Except for the flashlight from the phone somewhere in the middle of the field and quiet groans echoing from the walls.
"Why did you decide to have sex here? Plus, at this time?" You ask, looking over at Michael, who was clutching at the trimmed grass in the lawn as you thrust into him at a careful, almost tremulous pace.
“I think you said yourself that you wanted to experiment... So we’re starting with something easy,” Blonde whispers, wincing from the unpleasant feeling of artificial grass in his hands, so he just hugs your neck lazily.
“Well, yes, but... You obviously have some other reasons. But I won’t push if you don’t want to talk,” Michael just sighs at your words, but it immediately turns into a soft moan when your lips touch his neck.
“I just love the atmosphere in here, as weird as it sounds, so shut up and fuck me,” A disgruntled mutter escapes his lips, only to be cut short when he tilts his head back, giving you better access to his neck.
You look over his face, surprisingly too peaceful for him. Maybe this place really brought inner comfort to his soul, erasing all the doubts and burdens that he kept inside and sometimes shared with you. Maybe it was. But your heart broke at the sight of him for some reason, you understood his feelings more than anyone... Because you were probably the only one he was able to open up to so much.
“Micha? You’re a good boy,” echoes from your lips almost casually, but with a sickly sweet note that you want to listen to forever and drown in these sweet speeches.
"What was it?"
You find yourself torn from examining his face by his question. And really, why did you say that? He didn't do anything special during your entire session, which lasted about half an hour. And you too... But one look at him is enough for you to understand why.
Your attentive gaze glides over his perfect facial features, long eyelashes giving his eyes an unusual softness and warmth. Instantly you feel the desire to say that he is beautiful, extraordinarily beautiful. Faithful hands, strength and tenderness in every touch, sincerity and warmth in every word, just for you. The desire to praise, to say how much love and kindness he has, how he is able to bring a smile even in the most cloudy weather.
His soul shines brighter than the stars in the sky, his smile can melt the heart of icy granite. The desire to praise, express gratitude for all the beauty and kindness that he brings into this world. He is not just a person, he is magic, miracle, a spark that pushes you to move even in your most difficult moments.
The words seem unfair, but the heart is filled with feelings that are impossible to carry on the wind. Praise, approval, love — all these are small before the greatness of his soul and his existence. You really want to tell him about this so that he understands how amazing and significant he is to you. Just as the sun rises every morning, he awakens in you a feeling of awe and admiration that seems endless and will remain so.
“Because I love you,” You say without thinking, and immediately catch a light, rare blush on his cheeks.
His hand immediately drops down from your shoulder to cover the pink dust on his cheeks, but you intercept his hand, kissing his fingers tenderly, intertwining your fingers together.
"You idiot... Why so suddenly?" He asks, even if he doesn't wait for an answer, lightly kicking you in the side, groaning when you lean over him a little closer, hitting his sweet spot at a pleasant angle.
You find yourself thinking that you would worship him if he were God. It’s not that you didn’t already worship him... But he was definitely the person for whom even an atheist would reconsider their views on the world.
"Why suddenly? I'm always ready to praise you. You are tenacious, driven, incredibly smart, caring for those you care about in your own way... You are simply magnificent."
"Shut up, please shut up. I don't need your praise, just fuck me and..." He trails off, kicking you in the side again as he realizes something, "You didn't say that I'm handsome."
“Your beauty is a fact. But your appearance is far from the main thing that you have, even if you think differently... But if I started to list what I like about you externally, then we would move on to dithyrambs and ballads, and not to the climax."
Michael chuckles, finally distracted from contemplating you in response, realizing that he really feels a knot growing in his stomach. In general, he would never admit that he would be glad to listen to these dithyrambs and ballads and much more if it came from you. He's always taken praise for granted because, yes, he's Michael Kaiser, but now? He's just a puddle in your hands that's trying to look like ice.
“I’m not clenching around your cock right now because...” He cuts himself off, groaning as your mouth sucks on his neck in the area of his tattoo, “It’s not because I liked the praise, is that clear to both of us?”
“Of course, my King, as you say,” You say, biting the skin of his neck, causing him to whimper quietly as one of your hands slides to his cock, stroking it in time with your thrusts.
Your pace gradually picks up as you get closer too. And the sight of Michael, who clearly enjoyed your previous praise, did not at all ease your hard-on, nor did the warm walls around him.
"Call me!" He suddenly shouts, kicking you in the side once again, although you have no idea what he means at first, pulling away from his neck.
"Good boy?" You ask cautiously and to your surprise and pleasure, his cock twitches in your palm, and after a few thrusts he actually comes, squeezing you tighter than usual, which is why you can’t help but cum, thrusting into him a couple of times in post-orgasmic bliss, and then laying down on his chest.
The quiet rhythm of his heartbeat calmed you as he lightly ran his hand through your hair. You were both regaining your more than ragged breaths before the comfortable silence was interrupted by a question that made you chuckle hoarsely.
“Why did you ask this and not state it as a fact?”
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leychin · 1 year ago
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All of it.
part 2
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Tomura is due for his procedure in one week.
You don't bother trying to talk him out of it. Whats the point. His brain is too clouded by his hatred and rage towards heroes, towards his master, towards everyone around him.
It overpowers anything he feels for you.
You want to believe he hates you so it can be easier, but its never easy with Tomura. He knocks on your door at night so gently as if he isnt the most feared man in all of Japan, sits on your bed as if it's a rocking ship, and asks you to hold him like he's made of glass.
But Tomura wouldn't say it, he can't, he doesn't know how. He's lived with this hate for so long that loving you isn't something that comes to him naturally, in the mornings you don't exist. Just another League member with a job to fulfill, so why is he here with you like this?
It's because he's scared. His entire body is going to be ripped apart and then put back together for months, who wouldn't be scared? You're scared for him, he comes into your room at night and you press sweet kisses to tear sodden cheeks as he truly realizes what hes going to do. He knows hes going to leave. Its going to hurt. But it's something he has to do.
Not for his master, but for you.
He could never say it though, because how could he expect you to understand? Would you believe him? He knows you would try and convince him to stay how he is, he doesn't need to he stronger.
But Shigaraki needs to, he has this overwhelming urge to protect you, the one good thing in his life. He needs this power to keep you from disgusting people like master and the heroes. He wants to keep you in this room right here, with the minecraft music playing softly in the background as you ask him for more iron for some lanterns.
Its things like this that Shigaraki is fighting for, His hatred overshadows everything but you've lit a candle in his heart. When you fall asleep with your controller in your hands he's taking it from you and tucking you in, ghosting his lips over your head in his own form of a kiss.
God, he really does love you.
But it's never said, it can't be said. It's too late. Shigaraki will be gone for months and he'll be different, All for One will have everything he's worked for and he'll take your Tomura from you, and you'll be nothing to him as he moves to things much larger than the two of you in this shared space that's littered in old wrappers and empty cup ramen.
Eventually though, you wake up one morning and Tomura is gone, the menu music still playing softly in the background, the pause screen only showing one player showing he's logged off long ago.
Though, you unpause for a moment just to take a final walk around the world you two created. Beautiful cherry blossom trees lining a pathway to the updates village you made, ugly creeper holes Shigaraki didn't bother to fill up. You keep them uncovered, as a way to permanently mark the time spent with him.
You decide to log off and never play this game again, to never let yourself feel this hurt again, to never love again. But theres a spot in your enchantment room you've never seen before, Its hidden by clever bookshelf and stairs placements but theres a button wedged between the blocks, and when you press it you hear pistons whirr and open to what looks like an armory.
Theres an empty armor stand and one thats in full enchanted netherite armor, its his armor. The chest next to it is full of valuable items but one stands out to you; a signed book.
The glow makes you quickly add it to your inventory and open it yourself.
"It's all for you. Everything." -T.S.
That fucking idiot.
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itsnesss · 6 days ago
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Hi how are you!!! Could you do a Jun-Ho fluff where he proposes please and thank you🥺🥺 I’ve been loving him lately!
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader
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summary | the request. junho proposes to you in a super romantic way and your have a moment of intimacy
warnings | fluff, romance, smut, explicit content, p in v, unprotected sex
word count | 2.7 k
author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩
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The soft light of the restaurant illuminates your face, and you can't help but notice how special this place feels. The gentle hum of background conversations mixes with relaxing music, creating an almost magical atmosphere. But what truly makes everything shine is him, sitting across from you, with his typical calm smile, yet full of tenderness.
You can't stop thinking about everything you've been through together. Every moment, every conversation, every smile. Though the circumstances under which you met weren't the most common, you and he had created something unique. Something that was more than special. And today, here, in this elegant restaurant, you realize how deep his presence has become in your life.
Dinner unfolds naturally. The food is exquisite, but your eyes are fixed on Junho. Every gesture he makes, every word he says, makes you fall more in love. He, for his part, seems calm, but you can see in his eyes that something is occupying him, as if he's weighing something important.
“There's something I want to ask you...” he says, his voice soft, but his tone carries a contained emotion.
Your heart skips a beat when you hear those words. You know something important is about to happen, and while you try to remain calm, the nervousness starts tickling your stomach. You have the sense that this moment will change everything between you.
“Of course... what's going on?” you ask, trying to disguise the tremor in your voice. The smile on your lips doesn't fade, but there's a spark of uncertainty in your eyes.
Junho looks at you intently, his eyes searching for something in you, as if he's looking for the exact words. His expression is a mix of seriousness and tenderness, but also of palpable nervousness. Like he's about to take a leap into the unknown.
“I don’t know how to put it into words... but I've thought about it a lot...” he says, finally, letting his words fall slowly, as if he's afraid something might shatter the magic of this moment.
You feel even more anxious, but you manage to maintain composure. Everything seems to stop for a second. The sounds of the restaurant fade, the air thickens, and the only thing you can feel is the rapid beat of your own heart. You're waiting, with all your being, for Junho to finish speaking, although you somehow already know what's about to happen.
Suddenly, his hand moves towards his pocket and, with a gesture that seems so calculated, so full of determination, he pulls out a small black velvet box. The world seems to freeze for a second. Everything inside you ignites, and despite the serenity of his face, you know that this is the moment you've been waiting for, even though you didn't know it until now.
He opens the box carefully, revealing a simple yet beautiful ring. The diamond at the center seems to shine with its own light, as if reflecting all the emotions flowing between you in that instant. His eyes meet yours, and it feels like the whole universe is summed up in that gaze.
“I love you with everything I am...” he says, his voice full of emotion. His hands tremble slightly, but there is an unshakable certainty in his words. “And I can’t imagine my life without you. I’ve found everything I want in you, and I feel incredibly lucky to have you in my life. So... will you marry me?”
The words linger in the air, and for a moment, it feels like the world around you doesn't exist anymore. The silence stretches between you, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence; it’s one filled with love, hope, unspoken promises. You look at the ring, then his eyes, and you know this is the moment your own dreams come true.
A flood of emotions fills your chest. You can't believe what's happening. Everything inside you collapses, and tears well up in your eyes. You know there are no doubts, that this is the path you've been looking for, but still, the disbelief overwhelms you.
Finally, your voice comes out, soft as a whisper, but filled with certainty.
“Yes... of course I will,” you reply, your words full of love. “Yes, I’ll marry you!”
Junho smiles as if all the weight he carried on his shoulders has melted away. The smile that lights up his face is so pure, so sincere, that you feel like the world is right. He takes your hand, kisses your fingers gently, as if he wants to savor that moment, to make sure it stays etched in his memory forever.
“I promise I’ll make you the happiest person in the world,” he whispers with a tenderness that melts you.
It’s as if time has stopped, and only the two of you exist, surrounded by the calm of the night. Without saying another word, you stand up from your seat and throw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly, as if you can't bear to be separated from him. Tears begin to fall, but they’re not tears of sadness, they’re tears of happiness. You feel like everything you ever imagined is now right in front of you, as real as the air you breathe.
When you pull back a little, he takes your hand gently, as if afraid it might slip away. He places it over his chest, right where his heart beats.
“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice trembling just slightly, as if the weight of his love is too much to contain.
The rest of the dinner passes in the blink of an eye. Everything else disappears, and only this moment remains, one that will change the course of your lives forever.
When you get home, the excitement still runs through your body. You both enter, and although the night is still young, you feel there’s no place in the world you'd rather be than here, with him.
He closes the door with a soft click, but his eyes never leave yours. You feel a little tremor in your chest when he takes a step toward you, and your legs weaken slightly. Nervousness and desire mix in a way that’s almost intoxicating.
Junho stops in front of you, his eyes fixed on yours, and you can see in them the promise of something more. Something more than a commitment, something deeper, something that only the two of you understand.
His hands move to your face, touching you with the softness that has always characterized him. The delicacy with which he caresses you, the way he seems to know every corner of your being, makes your whole body shudder.
“Do you know what this means?” he asks in a whisper, his voice filled with the certainty that only true love can bring.
You look at him, your eyes reflecting all the emotions you feel in this moment. You know what it means, you’ve known since the very first day, but you can’t help but let the desire, that need to be closer, to feel him more, take over you.
“I know,” you reply, your voice barely audible.
In an instant, his lips meet yours, soft at first, but quickly growing in intensity. The kiss turns into something deeper, more urgent, as if neither of you can wait another second. His hands explore your body, as if he wants to imprint every curve, every corner into his memory.
Clothes slowly fall to the floor, and the desire between you ignites like a fire that can’t be contained. Every touch of his fingers, every kiss, is a reminder of how close you are, of what you share. Everything feels perfect, natural, as if it was meant to happen at the exact moment.
"I want to feel you," Junho whispers, his voice breathless. His fingers glide over your back, over your curves, as if he had been searching for a path that leads to heaven.
"I want that too," you reply in a gasp. Each word is like a fire in your throat, as if you wanted to shout your love to the world.
"Do you want this?" he asks, his voice ragged with need. His fingers brush against your thighs, soft and calm, but with a strength that makes you realize how much he needs you.
"I want this," you reply, your eyes fixed on him. The need in your voice mingles with desire, and you can feel his entire body tense, as if they had reached a limit they could no longer surpass.
In a single movement, he positions himself between your legs. You feel the pressure in your abdomen, the need that surrounds it, the promise that soon you will be closer than ever before. His breath is ragged, and his eyes are glazed with desire.
"I adore you so much" he murmurs, his words a silent plea. "I adore you, I've always loved you".
And, as if their words were a key that opens all doors, their bodies move together, as if the rhythm that drives them were something natural, something that was always meant to be. You feel his breath in your ear, his warm breath, his hands holding you, caressing you, making you feel loved.
Everything is perfect. The tension builds up inside you, but Junho holds you firmly. His arms surround you, protect you, cradle you. Everything about him makes you feel safe, as if you know nothing can go wrong.
"You are my everything" he whispers in your ear. His words are like a massage on your insides, increasing your need. "You are my home"
Your breath quickens, and the tension builds until you can no longer bear it. A torrent of pleasure spreads through your body, and you can feel yourself floating in the air. Junho moans in your neck, his fingers grip your skin tightly, and you can feel the pressure on your thighs. His body moves a little faster, but there is nothing in it that isn't gentle and slow, as if every movement he makes is just for your pleasure.
"I'm yours" you whisper, your voice breathless and hoarse. The words slip out of your mouth without you being able to stop them, as if they were the only thing you could say at that moment. "I am yours, always".
Her breath catches for a second, her gaze locks onto you with a passion that makes you crave more. "And I will always be yours" he replies, his voice echoing your words.
In a couple of seconds, the tension between you grows once again. The desire explodes in you, in him, and you both scream at the exact moment. It's as if the connection between you is something more than physical, as if it were something that only exists between two people who were destined to be together.
Finally, when their breathing returns to normal, he collapses onto you, his head on your chest, his arms surrounding you. Calmness surrounds you again, but there is no space between you, as if you needed nothing else. The connection is so strong that you feel you could spend hours here without saying a word, simply embracing each other.
"This is just the beginning of everything I want to give you".
You snuggle closer to him, closing your eyes, feeling the outside world fade away. All that matters is him. You. Both of you.
"Me too" you say with a smile, as you sink into a dream full of promises of a future together. Always together.
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marsbutterfly · 7 months ago
Text
Too Sweet
Summary: For the past few weeks, Hanji has locked themselves away in their office, away from prying eyes, including your own. But your heart can clearly tell when something is wrong with your beloved.
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a/n: hey everyone <3 this story is entirely based on the cover art by my amazing artist friend @kylekoraki ! please show them some love and everyone say "thank you" to kyle for drawing this! <3 here's their twitter as well <3
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: canon setting, fem!reader, non-binary!hanji zoe, no warnings really, just some heavy kissing. not really beta read, we die like men <3
 ao3 | wattpad | cover by: @kylekoraki | wc: 4.2k
You knock on the door. Once, twice, thrice. No answer. A grunt escapes your lips and you roll your eyes, repeating the action. Once, twice, thrice. Nothing again. Now a frown takes the place of the smile that used to rest on your face, you know they are in there, you can hear the papers being shuffled around, the tapping of their pen, the shadow of their body as they pass by the door, even faintly the sound of the ice that clinks around their whiskey glass.
You raise your hand to knock again, but before you even have the chance, the door opens. Barely enough for any light to make it through but you see the faint silhouette of Hanji's lips pouting. "You know that when someone doesn't answer, it means they want to be left alone, right?" Their voice is low, almost as if they are making sure to remain quiet to not attract any more unnecessary attention.
"But... it's me.." you respond just as softly, a pout of your own forming, "I'm not like other people."
“y/n…” They begin, moving their glasses from the spot on their face towards the top of their head, pushing their bangs backward in the meantime. Their brown eyes stare at you for what feels like forever, their mind hiding behind an ocean of thoughts and an expression you can’t quite decipher this time around.
They want you to stay, to hold you in their arms as they sit here in the comforting silence of your presence, but instead, they shake their head, trying their best to remove any thoughts of what your warmth would do to them. A heavy sigh makes its way past their lips, the eyebags under their eyes more present than ever as they begin to talk again.
“Please, I’m fine,” they respond. What Hanji fails to realize is that their voice did a slight tremble, not noticeable to anyone else but you know them better than the palm of your own hand. They are the pure representation of your heart beating outside of your chest, so seeing them in such distress is enough to make you act against direct orders, consequences be damned.
“You are not,” you respond. Their office is a mess, their research papers scattered around with drawings and models of flying boats, new weapons, and ways to improve the Survey Corps all around. A thousand and one ideas, some connecting and some just scattered around the wind. 
The whiskey bottle that until a few weeks ago rested full to the brim on their bookshelf now finds itself on its last few sips, the curtains are drawn so no amount of light other than the small candles at the edge of their table can exist in the room and you even notice a few shards of broken glass, probably meaning that they have dropped a cup or two, either from exhaustion or from not being able to see in the dark.
“When was the last time you ate anything?” You ask, gently taking the whiskey glass out of their hand. You notice a small blush creeping its way onto their cheeks as their eyes pointedly avoid yours and, by these simple reactions, you can tell it has been a while, “You’re losing weight.”
They try to reach for the glass once more but you shake your head, pulling it further away. Even though they are stronger than you and could easily take it back if they wanted to, they don't. Instead, Hanji leans against their desk, crossing their arms in front of their chest as they let out a heavy sigh. They want to lie, to tell you they are fine, and pretend like nothing is wrong, but before a single false promise about their well-being can make its way past their lips, you speak up again.
“I can tell you haven’t been sleeping,” your voice is soothing, not an ounce of frustration or anger behind it, just plain worry. You take a step closer, fully prepared for another rejection but it doesn’t come this time around, though you still don’t dare take a deep breath until the moment your fingertips brush against their left cheek, just slightly beneath their eyepatch, “you look exhausted.”
“Now that’s just rude!” An exhausted chuckle escapes their lips as they nuzzle their face into your hand, their expression contorting from anguish to a somewhat relaxed one and it causes your heart to nearly stop for a second before between at three times the usual speed, you are convinced they can hear it from where they stand. “I’ll have you know that I look awesome.”
It’s your turn to chuckle, your worries melting away for simply a second before coming back at full force, knowing way too well that redirecting attention and humor have always been Hanji’s favorite ways of avoiding a serious conversation.
“Hanji…” You start, your tone of voice sounding just as exhausted and defeated as theirs. It drags a loud sigh out of their chest, but as their mouth opens to complain, you continue, a begging tone in your voice as your eyes fill with unwashed tears, “Please, just talk to me.”
That look is enough to cause a painful bang to shoot throughout their body, their heart dropping to their stomach with the knowledge that it is their fault that you look this way. So, without even realizing it, they are already taking a couple of steps forward, hands tightly grasping at your hips as they lean their forehead against yours.
“I’ve just been so busy,” they whisper, the broken tone in their voice creates a tight knot in your throat and the sensation only grows stronger as they continue to speak, “Paperwork, meetings, and any free time I have I go to the lab, trying to complete some old experiments I’ve had from years ago. Even if I try to sleep, I just… Lay there, staring at the ceiling, maybe getting two or three hours here and there.”
You sigh, your arms immediately wrapping around their neck as you pull them close. Their eyelashes bat against the skin of your neck as they close their eyes, a shaky breath escaping them as they inhale your scent, focusing on the way your body feels and smells.
At that moment, an idea hits you. Without disturbing the hug, you look around the messy room, quickly taking in the setting before noticing that, for once, their couch rests next to the window, uncluttered and undisturbed. 
Reluctantly, you pull away from them and the first thing you can hear is a grunt of disapproval. Once your eyes meet again, their pupils are so big, they could only be compared to a puppy dog that has just discovered steak for the first time, pleading, begging even, “Why’d you do that?”
Without an answer, your hand slides with theirs, fingers lacing and fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Their palm is slightly wet, though you can’t quite place if it is from the condensation from the whiskey glass they held earlier or if it is from nervous sweats. Regardless, all you can focus on is how warm their presence feels close to you.
You don’t speak, instead, you just guide their body towards the couch, their feet dragging behind you, “what are we doing?” They ask, their eyes already fighting to remain open in a combination of the exhaustion and the fuzzy feeling from being drunk, the comfort you bring them doesn’t help either. They are clearly forcing themselves to stay awake, wanting to spend all of this time with you instead of stubbornly trying to push you away.
“We are not doing anything,” you respond, taking a seat on the couch. Your free hand brushes against the spot next to you and they quickly catch onto what you are hinting, your words finally clicking in their head as they flash you a confused look, “You, on the other hand, are going to sleep for a while.”
Their eyes widen for a second as your words take them by surprise, a small groan of protest making its way past their chapped lips, “mmmmm, noo, I can’t… I have so much work that I need to get done… I don’t... Have time to sleep.”
Carefully, you bring your hand towards the back of their head, pulling the ponytail holder out of their hair to make sure they are more comfortable for the next step, which includes guiding their head down towards your thighs. It doesn’t take much effort nor does Hanji put up much of a fight, their body is completely exhausted after all.
“Mmmm,” they whine, their voice filled with a mixture of exhaustion and stubbornness, almost like a child who refuses to lay down for nap time, but once again, they don’t put up a fight, “damn it, how could I ever say no to you?”
“You can’t,” you chuckle, your fingers beginning to comb through the knots in their hair, detangling the strands, your nails gently scratching their scalp while you are at it, “I promise I will be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.”
Your words are soft, carrying so much love that it is almost impossible for Hanji not to melt on the spot. The warmth of your legs combined with the feeling of your fingers going through their hair is finally enough to relax their overly exhausted body, their eyes finally closing and you use your free hand to remove their glasses, hanging it up on the neckline of your shirt.
“Finnneeeee,” Hanji whines once more, turning their body over so their face is buried in your stomach, their slim body now curled into a small ball on the couch and you can’t help but smile at the sight, “but do not let me sleep for more than thirty minutes. An hour, tops.”
You lift your eyes slightly to take a look at the clock on the wall, a gift from Kiyomi to celebrate your relationship. Silently, you take note of the time and look back down at your beloved, a soft, whispered “okay” leaving your lips.
“I’m serious,” Their voice starts sounding more sluggish by the second, their mind already starting to drift off but they fight back sleep for a few extra minutes, just enough to finish the conversation between the two of you, their voice extremely drowsy, “I’ll be mad if you don’t wake me up.”
“I would not dream of doing such a thing,” you respond, unsure if they recognize the mischievous tone in your words or not, but truly hoping that, if they do, they are simply choosing to ignore it. Even so, the way you speak brings them so much comfort, a sense of peace they haven’t felt since becoming commander, “just sleep, my love. I’ll be here.”
The moment Hanji hears you whisper that promise, the certainty that you will be here when they wake up, it’s like a switch flips inside of their mind and they finally allow their body to relax against your touch. Much like a cat, they purr as you continue to run your fingers through their hair, unable to avoid the smile that is now stamped on their lips.
“Thank you, love you,” they whisper, their voice is barely audible and you almost miss it. You don’t even have time to respond before they are completely asleep, the weight of the countless sleepless days finally catching up with their body.
When the first hour passes, you look up from your book, your eyes landing on the clock before making their way down towards Hanji’s face. They look so peaceful, their breathing is so calm and even that it soothes your own worries away and it takes every ounce of your strength not to lay down and nap with them. 
The decision to let them continue their slumber is an easy one. Eventually, you notice a small smile that tugs the corner of their lips in their sleep and you can’t help but wonder and hope that they are dreaming of you. Nevertheless, your fingers continue to go through the strands of their hair, even if it makes flipping the pages of your book a bit difficult, you manage to find a solution by placing it down on the armrest of the couch before using your pinky and ring fingers to hold the object down while the remaining digits flip towards the next page.
Another hour goes by and you start to ponder if you should wake them up. Maybe letting them sleep for this long wasn’t such a good idea, especially since you know they have to return to their duties as commander of the Survey Corps, such as continuing their research and sketching plans for the flying boat. But you can see it in their expression, the small specs of the bubbly person they used to be finally showing back up on their features as they sleep, small reminders of the bright light that has saved you from darkness more times than you can count.
You gasp softly when Hanji stirs slightly in your lap, your heart clenching in your chest as you continue to look down at them, scared that you moved too much and it caused them to wake up. Their expression is still undisturbed, almost like a cat that has just found the warmest spot on the window sill and you catch yourself smiling at them. A silly, love-sick smile that only they can bring out of you.
As the third-hour rolls by and you are trying to convince yourself that it is time to wake them up, you hear a knock on the door and your entire body freezes. You find yourself torn by the two options:
1) Do you say something loudly enough for the person on the other side to hear and risk waking Hanji up in a stressful way before throwing them directly into a situation in which they need to be the Commander, and not the bubbly Hanji Zoe you once loved so dearly.
2) You silently hope that the soldier on the other side will either go away soon or open the door quietly. The couch, though it is by the window, still has a perfect view of the front door to their office, so the person would quickly notice the situation and you would be able to calmly wake Hanji at your own pace, without any negative or stressful interactions.
A second, more forceful knock comes and you notice Hanji slowly starting to shift on your lap. The annoyed expression on your face morphs into one of anger and, as the shadow on the door side moves to knock for a third time, you decide to throw a pillow at the surface.
The person stops midway with their movements before their hand slowly comes to rest on the knob, twisting it slightly as the door quietly swings open. In front of you stands a very nervous scout, one of the new recruits, who hasn’t even been able to choose a specialty yet. His hands are trembling and he nearly drops the stack of papers he holds in his grasp, eyes bugging out of his skull as he looks at you and the sleeping figure on your legs.
“P-paperwork… F-for the C-Commander…” His voice is quiet and trembling, almost as if he is stepping directly into a monster’s lair. You realize in this moment just how intimidating Hanji is in everyone else’s perspective but your own and you can’t help but smile. You nod and gesture your head towards their desk, placing your index finger in front of your lips.
“I-it’s from… Instructor S-Shadis,” he says in the quietest of whispers, but you could already tell. Keith Shadis’ ugly handwriting was something you could identify from a mile away if you had to, “r-reports about… T-the ranking c-ceremony.”
“Thank you,” you mouth the words softly, your fingers moving on Hanji’s hair. They look so small and calm, almost like a harmless kitten, a direct contrast to the authoritative figure that can command an entire room with just a single look in their eye.
The boy nods, his trembling legs making their way towards the wooden table and carefully placing the new stack of paper next to the old ones, trying his best to make sure it is neatly organized while desperately avoiding eye contact with you. He does a quick salute towards you before eagerly exiting the room and you can nearly hear his breath of relief once he is out of sight, outside the closed doors.
You shake your head before looking down at Hanji once more to see a smile on their face. You roll your eyes, “how long have you been awake for?”
The smile on their face grows bigger, their eyes opening slowly to look at you, still a blurry image from the lack of their glasses but still enough for their heart to beat slightly faster, “since the first knock.” Of course, you think to yourself, “How long was I asleep for?”
You look at the clock, and a part of you wants to lie, say it’s only been thirty minutes or so but when you look out the window, you realize the sun has already started to set, making it impossible for such a thing to be even remotely believable. You sigh again.
“Around three hours…” You respond in a sheepish voice, avoiding their gaze. Immediately, Hanji sits up, placing their glasses above the bridge of their nose and looking at the clock on the wall. Once they look back at you, you can see the slightly irritated expression on their face and you feel like you could just shrink and disappear under such a harsh gaze.
“y/n, you promised!” They blur out and you can tell it isn’t anger or irritation… It’s an intense pile of anxiety, hidden behind the harsh facade they attempt to put up. They’re scared that something went wrong in the period they have been sleeping, like the Survey Corps might have fallen apart and they were doing something so useless such as taking a nap. A single thought is going through their mind, those words they have been chanting like a mantra since the fateful day in Shiganshina.
Erwin Would Never.
You stand up a mere second after them, watching closely as their hands grip the edges of the desk and their head hangs low, hips tilted forward in a desperate attempt to hold themselves upright. It breaks your heart to see them like this and, no matter how much you agree with Erwin that Hanji should be the next Commander, you can’t forgive him for leaving such a massive responsibility on their shoulders.
So your arms wrap around their waist, your cheek finding a perfect spot in the area between their shoulder blades. You nuzzle your face against their vest, nearly purring as you do. The smell of Hanji’s skin, mixed with a little bit of sweat as a result of their nap awakens the butterflies in your stomach and the only thing able to bring you out of your thoughts is the broken sound of their voice.
“How long were you going to let me sleep for?” They whisper, a hint of desperation behind their tone and you notice they are shaking. You tighten your grip around them.
“For as long as you needed,” you respond and, at the sound of their quiet sob, your heart shatters. “You haven’t been eating or sleeping, you are drinking in the middle of the day and, well, you are pulling away from me.”
With a long sigh, they turn around, a defeated expression on their face, “Y/n, I’m a mess. I’ve always been a mess. I’m always overthinking things, I’m mean, I’m stubborn, please. I need to catch up on my work, it’s so much paperwork and it just keeps piling up…”
“Hanji, you’re spiraling,” you whisper, fingertips almost featherlike as they brush against their arm. You hope and pray and nearly fall to your knees begging that they will listen to your voice, that they will give you time to make your case and prove that they are so much more than anything they are thinking, but they continue.
“Erwin’s one mistake was making someone like me the commander,” they whisper in the most defeated tone you have ever heard. It’s like something in your mind snaps and you immediately grab a hold of their wrist, flipping them around before pressing your body against theirs on the table.
“Now you listen to me and you listen good,” your voice is stern in a way Hanji had never heard before, it’s filled with pain, heartache, and still so much love, “Erwin wouldn’t have made you Commander if he didn’t think you would be a perfect choice. And I agree.”
Hanji wants to protest, they want to contradict you but the desperate look in your eyes convinces them to remain silent. Instead, they focus all of their attention on your words, into the amount of effort it takes you not to break into tears as you listen to their self-deprecating words, the doubt in their mind. They focus on the way your lips move and how desperately they want to kiss you.
“You are the reason why we were able to eradicate titans outside the wall, you created the thunder spears that were enough to scare off the armored titan,” you continue, the trembling in your hands is so intense you can barely contain your grip on them but you don’t let go nevertheless, “Moblit sacrificed himself for you because he believed you could guide us towards the world outside the walls. Erwin entrusted the Survey Corps to you because you are the most brilliant person any of us has ever seen. Please, just… Tell me you at least believe me.”
They don’t respond, not because they don’t want to, but because their voice won’t come out. It’s as if their brain has lost connection with their vocal chords and all they can focus on is the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes. 
So in one swift move, Hanji grabs a hold of your wrist and immediately switches places with you. You can’t help but yelp quietly, especially when you feel their hands grasping at the back of your thighs as they lift you. Your hands reach behind you, carefully assessing the area while trying not to mix any of their paperwork, but Hanji doesn’t have a single care in the world that isn’t you at this moment.
Their eyes hungrily stare at your lips and, with a silent nod of their head, you push away all the papers that were once so neatly organized on their desk. Once you are sitting down and your legs wrap around their waist, Hanji wastes no time in sealing their lips with yours, a delighted hum escaping your body once they do.
You wrap your arms around their neck, allowing your fingers to venture through the messy strands of their hair. Their fingers dig into your hips, strong enough to nearly leave a few bruises but neither of you care, the need you have for each other overwhelms any and every other one of your senses.
Their tongue slowly glides on your lower lip before they gently take it in between their teeth, pulling the skin towards them. After a few seconds, they let go and immediately begin to silently beg for entrance, using the tip of their tongue to nudge your lips apart and it doesn’t take you long to indulge.
They pull you closer to themselves, your bodies pressed together without a single inch of free space as they hold you, nearly afraid that you might disappear the second they loosen their grip. It’s the first time you have kissed in what feels like forever, even if it has been just a few weeks.
You can’t help but focus on the taste of whiskey in their mouth, it’s completely different from anything ever made inside the Walls. It nearly tastes “expensive”, for the lack of a better word. It’s been hours since they have last taken a sip and the flavor is still so vivid on their tongue. So much so that it nearly burns once your saliva begins mixing.
It’s only when the need for air becomes unbearable that the two of you pull away, a small string of saliva connecting your bodies. You run your tongue over your lip, breaking that connection and still getting one last taste of them. The sight causes a shiver to run down Hanji’s spine and they smile, gently placing their forehead against yours.
“I needed that,” they whisper, a smile stamped across their face and you nod, “I’m sorry for pushing you away, I’m just… Having a lot of big feelings that I couldn’t express but I have you now.”
“It’s okay, just don’t forget that I am here for and with you, okay?” You whisper back in a love-filled voice and they smile once more, nodding their head as their grip around you tightens ever so slightly, “You still taste like home.”
“Yeah? And what does that taste like?” They chuckle, nuzzling their nose against yours, enough that you can feel their glasses against your face.
“Like expensive whiskey,” you respond and Hanji laughs, the sound you’ve missed most these past few weeks and you are reminded yet again that home is whatever, wherever and whenever you are with them. No matter what.
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happiest-hotch · 7 months ago
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The Brink of Collapse
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Summary: Aaron and reader have been on the brink of divorce for a long time. And then suddenly he's there, and feelings come to a head.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: very angsty, talk of divorce, mentions of strippers
It's been an odd month.
Surreal, in some ways.
You and Aaron have been on the brink of divorce for a while, but once you finally said the word, everything changed. It opened up a new world of feelings and even more hurt.
It didn't seem possible to feel more hurt, but here you are, sitting on the couch, feet tucked beside you, and a glass of wine on the coffee table. You need it for your nighttime reading, the first draft of a separation agreement, your and Aaron's full names on the top.
It feels like physical proof that you and Aaron have failed. Every sacrifice that was made in the decade you had been together wasn't enough. All the love in the world wasn't enough.
It hits you in a deeper place in your chest than you knew existed, and it makes breathing difficult.
Those papers are a taunt you've been putting off confronting, but it's time. It's something you have to do.
Your eyes gloss over the words, but you catch yourself slipping into a defense strategy where your name is removed from you, and it's a draft divorce settlement of detached clients.
"Late-night reading?" His voice makes you jump, startled by his appearance in front of you.
You had spaced out, thought he escaped through the front door to avoid whatever this awkward situation could be categorized as. You find yourself wishing that he did as he looks at you, trying to profile your thoughts. Dick.
You're both trying to keep life somewhat normal for the children, not wanting them to be caught up in your mess which means when he's in DC, he picks them up for the day and drops them back home. You just thought he'd leave out the front door rather than come across the house to talk to you.
"It's not that late." You reply. "Do you actually want to do this?" You're not sure why you ask, not when it's going to hurt.
"Do what, Ms. L/n?" Aaron asks, but he knows. He walks behind the couch and into the kitchen, taking the open bottle of wine and pouring himself a glass without invitation.
"Get divorced." You answer before adding something you probably shouldn't since there's no need. "I'm still technically Mrs. Hotchner."
He doesn't chuckle at your quip, but he looks close. "You wouldn't be holding that if we didn't." Carefully chosen words, as expected. "I've always loved that part of your name."
You scoff, shaking your head. "That's a conflicting message."
Aaron shrugs, sitting down on the couch next to you. You kind of wish he hadn't. He could have just gone back to wherever he's staying and you wouldn't have to do this metaphorical dance.
"They're not mutually exclusive." He explains. You try to keep a neutral expression, but it's hard to hear that your soon-to-be ex-husband likes that you have the same surname. "I love the name, doesn't mean we can't get divorced."
"I won't be Mrs. Hotchner then." You remind him, but you keep it lighthearted in tone.
The air is getting too grave and when things get too grave, you both say too much. It's painful conversation, of late. No more 'I love you's and bleeding heart promises of fixing it. You both know you're beyond repair so you talk about that, and it's getting depressing.
He shrugs. "Not necessarily. Plenty of women keep the name after divorce."
Divorce.
That dirty word that's become your reality.
"I've not considered it." You confess. It seems easier to be honest about something little. "Would it bother you? If I kept it?"
He waits a beat, staring into the semi-opaque wine. "No. Not in the slightest."
"I feel it could get real awkward." You admit and he frowns, not understanding what you mean. "When someone says, 'Oh, are you related to Aaron Hotchner' and I have to say, 'Yeah, he's my ex-husband.' I mean, you know half this town."
Aaron considers it for a second, that thoughtful frown on his brows. "I hadn't considered it." Obviously. "You have my blessing if you keep it."
You chuckle humorlessly. "Thanks."
"This whole thing doesn't have to be adversarial." He reminds you, but it's not condescending. He's almost smiling, lips tugging up at the corners.
Your eyes narrow at him. "Have I done something to make this feel adversarial?"
It's snider than it needs to be, but he comes back professionally. "No. But I've seen couples in our situation start arguing, even yelling, at every step."
You snort out a laugh. "The life of divorce attorneys, right?" He's telling it like you don't know like you're not still in the job he left for the FBI. You bite your bottom lip, considering whether to drive the conversation in a different direction, and come to the conclusion that it might make the conversation lighter and with it, stop the clenching feeling of your heart. "Do you still remember the Beamounts?"
He laughs louder than you've heard in a while. That does the trick and gives you a quick breath of relief, but it's gone as soon as it's there. "I couldn't forget it." He assures you. "Do you still have her little card? The one you kept in your wallet?"
You're almost giddy listening to him laugh, and it makes you giggle as you recall it. "Yes! She ran those exotic dance clubs, I remember. I'm still not sure if I'm offended she gave me the card… like, I can't work out if she thought I might be interested and would want to come watch, or if she thought I'd like to leave seven years of school and a law career behind to strip."
"Do you want me to take care of that card? It's been in there for what? Twelve years?"
His offer throws you a little, but your reaction comes out as teasing. "Oh, do you need her card? Now that we're about to be divorced?"
"I certainly don't." Unsurprising, he has no trouble with women. "But I do want to preserve your wallet's purity."
"I think she gave me the non-explicit version." You explain to him. "I'm sure there are some racy ones out there for guys that are into that stuff..." Something prompts you to push it further. "Like you."
Aaron laughs again, and you get another breath. "Very occasionally." He assures you.
"There's photographic evidence, Aaron." You remind him, smiling softly at the photos Morgan showed you of some BAU boys' nights out. Aaron looked so uncomfortable, and you're sure he spent the entire evening refusing to look at any woman's assets. It makes your stomach churn knowing that, if the situation arises again, he won't act the same way. "Unfortunately, good old Mrs. Beamount is spoken for these days, so I guess the card has no use to you."
He hits you with something you don't expect, although maybe you should have since it's in line with your mutual reminiscing. "That was the first time we met. Just baby lawyers thrown into the craziest case."
"I remember laughing with you about how ridiculous it was." The first time you laughed together about that, you breathed deeper than you ever have before. "Do you remember the thing with the dog?"
He snorts with laughter. It's probably not meant to be as attractive a sound as it is. "That damn chihuahua he insisted was possessed? I remember being so annoyed because I knew the dog couldn't be possessed. I kept asking myself what I'd done so wrong in my life that I had a client expecting me to argue it." Hearing his thoughts now is different than just laughing about back then. "Then when we got there, the damn animal was barking and growling in a demonic way. That was the weirdest thing I've ever seen in my life. It was possessed."
The passion with how he talks about a damn dog makes you smile. "Now imagine everyone seeing that and having to argue it wasn't demonic." You remind him of what your position was as his opposing counsel. "I felt so ridiculous arguing it. And she wanted the divorce settlement to include him taking it to the groomer." You shake your head disapprovingly at the memory. "It creeped me out that she kept it in her purse. That was the ugliest dog I'd ever seen."
It's odd to be laughing with him, considering your precarious relationship circumstances, and even odder that it's about the first case. Surely it should be about what Eden said today, bonding over your kids seems less intimate than talking about when you met.
"I remember she even tried to make herself look more motherly and nurturing in court, by taking care of it during the proceedings." He continues.
It's like you're watching the whole thing again, but you know how it ends. "I was just praying she wouldn't start breastfeeding it." You say. "Her boobs were so plastic that I think if she put that rabid dog near them, he'd chew them."
Aaron loses it laughing, clearly seeing the mental image that worried you 12 years ago. "Okay, okay, that's enough." He finally manages to get out.
You finish off the laughter, letting it die down rather than continuing the conversation.
"What did you think of me?" He asks, a surprising tangent. "When we first met?"
You know he knows since it had been discussed it a few times between dating and marriage, wanting to reminisce. Why he's asking now, you're not sure, and why you're answering, you're even less sure.
"I thought you were a jerk." You admit.
He laughs, but he's thinking about whether you think that again now. "Yeah?" He prompts you to go on.
"That's what happens when you arrive at a mediation meeting five minutes late with Ferrari keys." You remind him with the same disapproving frown.
You can still remember when he walked into the big boardroom, dressed in a perfectly fitted dark blue suit with his hair longer than it is now and parted down the middle. Compared to now, he looked so young, just 25 and straight out of law school, not having seen the most awful parts of the world. He's different now. His shoulder bag switched out for a briefcase being the most minor change.
When he walked into the room that first day, you were equally as pissed off by and attracted to him. It's full circle that you feel that way again.
"I had to find parking." He reasons.
You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "You didn't valet your car?"
"After the Ferrari, things were tight," Aaron says, but it's a joke. You both know he has money, the separation agreement dividing your assets wouldn't be so long if neither of you had money. "What about after that?" He asks. Sadistic or masochistic, you're not sure. It hurts you to relieve it in your memory, but is it hurting him?
"I was leaving that meeting. As fast as I could, of course." You pause for his laughter. "And you were already in the elevator." It hurts to recall, just like you expected. "I wondered if I should join you."
You still wonder now, if you made the right decision that day. On one hand, you'd have none of the good memories, but on the other, you wouldn't feel like your chest was clenching and your heart was threatening to shatter with each breath.
You decide to keep telling the story. "And I did. And you made me laugh, right off the bat, both of us giggling about the ridiculousness of our clients."
"Not very professional." He notes with a smirk. "Opposing counsel gossiping about their clients."
Your eyebrows pull together in a frown. "Why'd you make the first joke then?"
He wants to tell you it's because he needed to make you laugh, just to hear it and see you smile. His fear takes over and he settles for a quip. "I mean, you looked uptight, but I could tell you weren't."
Your scoff is accompanied by you hitting his shoulder, both of you laughing and it suddenly hits you that you're flirting with him.
It must hit him too because what he says is out of left field. "Part of me wonders if the reason you're only just looking at that is because, on some level, you're hoping we'll fix things and get back together." Fuck! Aaron has always been a straight shooter, but that was far too much honesty.
You gulp, the saliva in your mouth drying up. "Hey, let's just not go there, okay?" You offer. It's not a conversation you want to be having. Your mixed emotions coupled with his ability to push you, it's not a good combination.
"Sure." He admits, but his tone suggests he's unhappy, and so does his sigh. You're begging him with your eyes not to push it, to leave the house and the conversation, and not make it awkward and hurtful. "I never wanted this to be an argument. Do you know that? I know I've never been great at communicating and all this, but I've always tried to do the best for you, always tried to... I mean, I've never gotten divorced before, so I'm still feeling out the right way to do it."
You're not impressed he's lying through his teeth. Both of you know he didn't "always" do his best at communicating. Those last few months, he barely spoke to you. In fact, this conversation might contain more words than an entire few months.
And is there a "right way" to get divorced? You don't know, but you wish you could stop picking apart everything he's saying, overanalyzing.
You're caught on the first statement. "This isn't an argument, is it?"
"I guess not, but there's a vibe." He points out. "Maybe I'm being hypersensitive. Listen, I know this is hard. I think we both knew this probably wasn't going to be the easiest thing, right?"
You avert your gaze from him, a few tears welling in your eyes. "Yeah, we knew that."
"Hey, look at me." He implores.
You tilt your head to the ceiling, trying to stop crying before you start.
"If you're not ready to do this, then please just talk to me." He says- begs. "Please talk to me."
It's ironic really, him sitting there begging you to talk to him when formerly, it's been you doing the begging for him to share his feelings with you. An embarrassing amount of begging, really.
"Please don't do this." You beg back. "I'm not interested in the idea of being vulnerable in front of you, okay?"
He sighs a bit, hands falling to his side. The look on his face you can read. He's upset about not being able to comfort you, and he's begging himself not to show it. What the fuck does that mean?
"Fine." He agrees. "It's... I don't think I ever fully realized how much this whole thing would hurt, but I'm seeing it now."
You don't thank him sarcastically for being obvious. It's twisted that he's spilling his emotions now, and it's hard not to be resentful about it. If he had just fucking talked to you when you begged him to every night in your last month together, you wouldn't be here. It's too little, too late.
"I guess." You agree. "We'll just get it over with."
It stings his heart, so he stings you back. Whether it's intentional or on reaction, you can't tell. "Maybe you're right and we should get it drafted and signed so we can be finished as soon as possible." But, most surprisingly, he flip-flops. "I miss you, Y/n."
It's the same rollercoaster of emotions that your brain is riding in your head, but at least you're not saying it out loud and confusing the shit out of him. "Don't say that, Aaron." You warn him.
He has the nerve to be surprised by your harsh tone. "...what? It's just a fact. I miss you. Why is that bad to say?"
"Because I missed you for four months while you had one foot out the door of this marriage." You finally snap.
Aaron looks stunned and it only makes you angrier and more upset. "I know," He tells you.
He knows, but he'd never do anything about it. You try to act casual, taking a deep breath. "Okay." You attempt to leave it at that.
He won't let the conversation go. "I should have fought for us."
"You still can." You're not sure why you say it, but you do. Maybe you give him one last chance because you'll regret it forever if you don't.
"I am more in love with you than I have ever been." He bursts out, unable to help himself given the chance.
It makes your heart soar and your eyes water. You sit there silently, wrapping your arms around yourself tightly like it might protect you.
"I never should have put you in a position where you felt like something was wrong with us." Aaron looks at you so sincerely that you can't help the tears running down your cheeks. "It got to a point where I felt like I couldn't fix it so I didn't try, and I'm aware that was the wrong choice every day."
"I don't know what to say." You tell him. "Why bother coming to this conclusion, and telling me about it, when it's too late?" Maybe you're protecting yourself more than you need to be.
Aaron shakes his head. "Because it isn't."
"Aaron." You shake your head, holding up the literal divorce papers that exist to remind him. "So much has happened in the last four months."
"Not too much, though." He emphasizes.
He's pushing a button that makes your emotions boil over. "I don't even know where you're sleeping." You remind him firmly.
"Holy shit, Y/n!" Aaron's quick to assure you of what might have been going on in your head. "No." He pauses. "I'm sleeping at my office." You can't say that doesn't relieve you. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on. Since the day I met you, I've never looked at anyone the same."
His strong assurances make you cry more. "I don't know if we can fix this." You admit, disappointed in yourself.
"We absolutely can." He pleads to you. "You said we should get a divorce because love isn't enough to make this better, but there is more than love here. I am committed to you and I want to fix this."
You continue your tears and he reaches out to touch your cheek, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You lean into his soft touch. "I do too." You admit, the realization alleviating some of the aching in your chest.
"You mean the world to me," Aaron tells you firmly. "I will do anything to get us back on track. I wasn't before and I know I was stupid for it, but I'm listening, Y/n. To everything you need and want."
"I think we need help." You confess. "Like professional help."
He can't nod fast enough. "I agree. We can get that."
You stop him before he can pull out his phone. "Tomorrow." You request. "I just want a hug."
He hasn't had you in his arms in far too long, and he reaches out for you. You lay on his chest, letting him wrap his arms around you.
"Wow, I've missed you." He hums, breathing out a deep sigh of relief.
You sniffle your tears, nodding in agreement. "Me too."
"Y/n, I will never let it get this far again," Aaron assures you. "I was stupid and I can't lose you. I love you."
You're sure you feel the same way. Everything definitely wasn't fixed and there was a lot to do, but one thing you're sure about is being married to Aaron Hotchner. "I love you too."
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pomefioredove · 7 months ago
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okay after reading all the goth hc, I gotta ask. how do you think the guys would react (any of them but preferred Floyd and Idia ) to playing them goth music/show them a trad goth outfit/makeup look (suprise them maybe? For example: I hc Leona to just have the least slay music taste to mankind (beastmankind?) so you play him- idk let’s say Lebanon Hanover, and he’s like “wtf is this herbivore?” But then he kinda gets into it. no pressure to write for it btw!
-✨♥️✨
ANON I was literally thinking about making a post like this a few days before this ask... you have my heart. I'm doing a full post
summary: nrc boys and goth type of post: headcanons characters: nrc students additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, half-headcanons half-x reader author's note: I'm assuming that goth as a subculture and a music scene already exists in this world. this post is also mostly about the music scene
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Riddle is essentially a baby bat
he's like, two bad life choices away from going full victorian goth at any given moment
he flat out refuses to listen to anything "vulgar" but secretly adores the dark, poetic side to goth
he's also morbidly obsessed with death, being a sad victorian boy and the child of two doctors. it works
as much as I hate to say it, Ace starts out as the kind of guy to say he wants a "goth gf" on multiple occasions
he proudly announces it to everyone at an unbirthday party once and Riddle almost kills him for being annoying for interrupting
thinks the music is too sad
...but he mellows out eventually (your influence)
both Deuce and Trey are not particularly interested
(Deuce leaned into punk music as a preteen but has since "given it up" because it's too unruly for an aspiring honors student, in his opinion)
Cater inexplicably already knows a lot about goth
won't talk about it unless you bring it up first but if you play him something semi-popular
he'll be like "oh yeah I know that one"
he has a few songs on his playlist he listens to when he's alone
is a goth magnet himself. pulls many hot goths. no one knows how
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Jack is also not really into it. not his thing
however I can see him secretly being into emo
make of that what you will
and Ruggie will never pass you the aux again. he calls it "halloween music"
Leona acts thoroughly uninterested for a long time
like, he'll listen to the music you give him, but doesn't really say whether he likes it or not
says he doesn't care about the scene (thinks it's too pretentious)
and pretends to be annoyed when you give him more song recs
but he gets into it. he starts listening on his own
he has a definite preference for gothic rock
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Jade is already goth (to me at least)
and very eager to talk about his favorite bands
loves giving recommendations
apparently the coral sea has its own goth subgenres and bands, which sound... much different from land ones
Floyd will listen (has listened, thanks to his brother) but he doesn't particularly care
he much prefers the aesthetic, it reminds him of home
...being that he's from the deep sea, where it's dark and cold
the flowy, dark, elegant looks are just enchanting to him. he can't keep his eyes off it
Azul couldn't be bothered
he's willing to learn, but isn't a huge fan of the general... strangeness
(he doesn't really understand why anyone would want to be perceived as strange in the first place)
and the music is so unmelodic to him
"that was just a man moaning and a gate creaking for seven minutes" and then he bans you from his office
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Kalim literally listens to goth already
I don't know how to explain it but I know he does
it's so funny because he never ever dresses goth or acts stereotypically goth but every once in a while he'll be like "who wants to hear my new favorite song? :D" and it's like, alien sex fiend. and no one can say anything about it
Jamil is an appreciator
depending on what you show him, he could really get into the lyricism and general mood
...if only because he finds goth dancing absolutely mesmerizing
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Rook is goth
he only dresses the part sometimes, but he's always been very passionate about the poetic elements of the music
...really into french coldwave
in terms of fashion he leans romantic goth
it just makes sense to me. he could find beauty in absolutely anything, and the dark and macabre are no exception
will talk your ear off about his favorite bands if you give him the chance
Vil is really more into the style than the music
he's dabbled in a little bit of everything; trad goth, romantic goth, medieval goth. he pulls all of it off
honestly, if anything, the gothic style compliments his features and tastes more than anything
he has such a respect for the subculture and the dedication that goes into the visual elements
Epel doesn't get it. sorry 😔
he will listen to the music you recommend because he cares about you, but he just doesn't like it
he's in the same boat as Azul. "was that a slide whistle?"
absolutely baffled, but he likes you and it's a small price to pay for your happiness
(and he thinks the fashion is too androgynous for his tastes)
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I feel like Idia also used to think he wanted a goth until he saw the e-girl vs goth discourse, freaked out, then spent two weeks reading about different subcultures
...still wants a goth partner
but now he actually knows what that means
will listen to any music you give him out of respect (fear) and won't say anything about whatever weird taxidermy-related hobby you have
he's surrounded by death all the time anyway who cares
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you could get Silver to listen to the cure's entire discography and he'd come out of it really enjoying just like heaven and nothing else
it's just... not for him
(plus the slower songs put him to sleep)
Malleus somehow hasn't even heard of goth as a genre when you approach him
he is. a little disappointed it's not music about the architecture style
but he still warms up to it, especially as someone who enjoys finding the beauty in the dark and misunderstood
you can fix him. you can goth him.
Sebek joins only after everyone in Diasomnia gets in on it with you (he doesn't like being left out)
he loves it because silver doesn't and malleus does
peepaw Lilia is an old goth
he was around when the music scene started, and he also remembers the literature movement it was named after, and the popular architecture style that was named after, and...
...you get it
still, he's always pleased to learn about new bands and subgenres and styles and the like
could and will talk about it for hours and hours with you
he dresses the part, too
we love him
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ssahotchnerr · 8 months ago
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Jack still sort of maintaining a relationship with Roy the first few years after Haley dies (Aaron thought it was important to maintain those connections for Jack even tho it hurt Aaron to do 😭 it was easy with Jess who he loves but SUCKED with Roy) but he gets extremely exclusionary once Ellie is born. Him being like “I will spend time with MY grandson who belonged to MY daughter but I will not be wasting my time, energy, and money on a child you’ve had with another woman. A child who – might I point out – would not have been born if you stayed married to my daughter and didn’t get her killed in the first place.”
Aaron being pissed on Ellie’s behalf (and his feelings are hurt tbh) and you being pissed on both of their behalfs. But, unexpectedly, Hc that Jack overheard this conversation and basically says to Aaron the next time Roy wants to take him somewhere (Aaron didn’t want to make HIM feel bad on top of everything else by banning him from seeing his grandfather, so he was gonna let him go), “I don’t want to spend time with grandpa Roy if he’s gonna be mean to Ellie. Thank you, but I’ll stay here.” SUCH A GOOD BIG BROTHERRRRR you and Aaron are so proud 🥺❤️
OHHH MY GOD??
roy just completely refuses to acknowledge that ellie exists 😭
it happened right from the start: when aaron shared the two of you were expecting, roy brushed it off, muttering something incoherently in response. after she's born, aaron invites him over for family dinners, he refuses to come. he's invited to ellie's first, second, third birthday party, doesn't come. every time he comes over, he acts like he's never seen her before. disregarding her completely.
it becomes very clear very fast that he wants to spend time with jack and jack only. as much as aaron hates to admit it, in a way, he understands. roy's bitter about what happened to haley, so this was somewhat expected. it's a different situation that's hard to navigate - ellie isn't related to him, so if roy doesn't want to bring her along to places, whatever, aaron's not going to force roy to do anything. the issue is what an issue it is. how ellie is being treated.
it's more of a problem when ellie is a bit older, and wants to tag along with jack wherever he goes. she just wants to be included 🥺 sweet ellie simply says hi when roy comes over to pick up jack, he ignores her. the next time, she draws him a picture, and he doesn't accept it.
aaron gently confronts him, and that's when roy brings up haley and how this child is a disgrace to her. imagine he full-on admits he wishes she never existed?? 😭 ellie's a product of what happened to haley, he'll never forgive aaron for getting her killed, so he'll never accept this child's existence. she shouldn't exist.
that angers aaron and he starts going off - ellie is a part of this family, whether you like it or not. and fine, you don't have to love her (saying that SHATTERS aaron's heart) but do not treat her like she's nothing. aaron won't let that stand.
it starts a huge argument 🥺 roy refuses speak to aaron, except when it comes to arranging his time with jack, and the conversation is very short at that. he doesn't speak much to you either (never has). again in his eyes - you're haley's replacement. jack's new "mom"
and it's especially sad because ellie knows about haley too :( - not the story, but the simple, good things: jack has another mommy, she's not here with us anymore but you can talk to her with a candle. haley has never been a avoided topic in the house, she's encouraged. and so ellie loves haley in her own way :( so to call her a disgrace in haley's name?? when she's also keeping haley's memory alive? :((((
you feel awful. you know how hurt aaron is but he doesn't allow himself to show it. he hates talking about it, and he's always in a mood whenever roy's with jack. you feel awful for your daughter who doesn't know what's going on. you feel awful for jack who's taking an unnecessary weight on his shoulders in terms of this too.
ellie's confused and upset, this is the first person who's ever shown her unkindness. aaron gently tries to explain, but also, how do you explain this to a toddler? so he simply apologizes and scoops her up into his arms and holds her close :( he feels awful, and as if he's failing her in someway. this is "his fault", isn't it? 😭
so if roy's taking jack out, aaron or you, or both combined, take ellie out for the day to do something fun. or try to keep jack heading out on the down-low. it sucks, you still both encourage jack to spend time with his grandfather - maintaining that important relationship - even though it's exceedingly complicated behind the scenes.
and jack, being the sweet sensitive kid he is, picks up on the tension immediately. and he's torn 🥺 he wants to appease his grandfather, knows what he's doing isn't right, but also doesn't want to betray his little sister, letting behavior like this continue. he feels guilty :( he takes the initiative and brings it up to roy himself, asking if ellie can come with them someday, like to the zoo or to a movie. but roy's pretty level-headed and his mind is made up - absolutely no ellie.
so jack gets really upset :( he gets home one day and cries about it :((( you're trying to console him, as is aaron (who's close to tears himself), and ellie wanders over :( she gets sad whenever jack is sad :( and while she has no idea what's going on exactly, she just buries herself right up into jack's side as he's crying. to comfort him too 🥺🫶🏻
overall it's a reallyyyy messy situation, one that you can only hope resolves with time :(
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just-a-ghost00 · 7 months ago
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Do you know them? What do they admire about you? (possibly 18+)
This is part 2 of the secret admirer PAC. To check part 1, click here. You can either choose the same group as for the first part or choose another. It's completely up to you. For the first question, I will only be drawing one card to get a simple yes or no answer.
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Group 1
Do you know them ? - The Star
That's a yes. You possibly interact with this person online and/or they live at a distance from you. They could have Aquarius influence in their chart.
What do they admire about you ? - 2 of pentacles, ace of cups, 9 of pentacles, page of pentacles
They admire your youthfulness and your giving nature. They like that you try to remain impartial and never judge a book based on its cover. They like your independent thinking but also your independance in general. You work very well on your own and you're not needy, which they value. You can think for yourself. They like your analytical mind, your curiosity and your ability to learn in any circumstance. They like how honest you can be about your feelings, your experience and difficulties. You wear your heart on your sleeve and are easy to be around. You're very laid back which gives them space and security. You make them feel safe and cared for. They like your enthusiasm and openness to life. You have a good balance and your heart is pure. They admire how you're always in a good mood and seeing the glass half full. This gives me Dean/Castiel dynamic vibes. In this person's eyes, you are a Castiel.
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Song : (You're the) Devil in disguise - Elvis
Group 2
Do you know them? - Knight of pentacles
That's also a yes for you. You either know them through work or your studies. This person could be an earth sign. They like horses. They may have recently made an offer or given you a gift. They walk slowly.
What do they admire about you? - 5 of pentacles, 8 of cups, 3 of swords, 2 of cups
Okay this may be a bit weird but they like your clinginess and also when you complain to them about things that upset you. They admire your ability to ignore what doesn't serve you or would only bring you down. They admire that you're still standing strong despite all that you've been through. They admire your kindness and ability to connect with all people, to love them unconditionally. They like when you ask them for help or rely on them when you're feeling down. They like to see you sad. They think you're beautiful when in pain or crying. This may be a little triggering, I'm sorry. They like that you also don't deny your help and guidance to people in need. You're a good samaritan. You can't say no. They admire your resilience. Also your ability to know when to give up or to delegate. Your ability to rely on your peers or know who to find when in trouble. They like your moodiness and your bad temper. They like to see you upset. It's entertaining to them. They admire the emotional responses they can get from you because it's something they fail to understand or are unfamiliar with. This energy is rather disturbing. This gives me Crowley/Aziraphale dynamic vibes. In this person's eyes, you're an Aziraphale.
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Song : I wish I didn't love you so - Betty Hutton
Group 3
Do you know them? - 10 of wands
You don't know them on a personal level. You are aware of their existence but it would be very hard for you to figure out who they are. You wouldn't suspect this person to admire you. You know them either from a time of your life when you were in trouble or through a common responsibility you share. So this could be worked related, but not just that.
What do they admire about you? - 9 of wands, 8 of swords, knight of swords, 7 of cups
They admire your ability to get out of any situation and slither your way through obstacles and people's BS. They admire your feisty nature and your honesty. They think you are brave. They admire how you always keep your options open and stay alert, ready to strike at any given moment. How you never stay stuck in one spot. This person would like to tie you down so they can pick your brain apart. You're a mistery to them. This gives me Will Graham/Hannibal dynamic vibes. In this person's eyes, you're a Will Graham. Constantly thinking, constantly moving, unstoppable, impossible to get a hold of or manipulate. Hard to read. Always one step ahead. Too clever for this world. They admire how stubborn and reckless you can be at times. You're unpredictable and never boring.
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Song : Eye of the tiger - Survivor
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trulyradicalactivist · 12 days ago
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If not you, who?
If it’s not you, speaking up for the little boy using crutches, even though he doesn't “need” them, a boy who has a heart full of kindness, who’s told that his joy is “wrong,” then who will tell him that his light is meant to shine, not dim under the weight of someone else’s expectations?
If it’s not you, stepping forward when the teenage girl in your class nervously whispers, “I think I might be transracial,” only to be met with silence or scorn, then who will show them that how they feel is never wrong and that they are perfect as they are?
If it’s not you, protecting the transspecies girl walking home from school, terrified of being harassed because she was outed, then who will ensure she knows she belongs, that she deserves safety, and that her existence is valid?
If it’s not you defending the transage person who’s mocked in a meeting, shrinking under the weight of others’ laughter, then who will remind everyone that their words matter, and that respect for those different to them is the bare minimum?
If it’s not you, standing by the parents who are learning how to love their MAP child through confusion, fear, and a world that tells them it’s easier to turn away, then who will remind them that love should be unconditional and the strongest bond of all?
If it’s not you, speaking out when constant harassment and pain from a society who doesn't understand, threatens the very existence of paraphile and transid lives, then who will stand at the front lines, defending their right to exist and leave peacefully, as their truest and most authentic selves?
If it’s not you, showing up for the zoo adult rejected by their family, the transabled teen who feels invisible, or the questioning child who feels scared, then who will make sure they see they’re not alone?
Who will let them know that they are part of something bigger, something stronger, a community of love, resilience, and hope?
Every unkind word that goes unchallenged becomes an echo. Every act of discrimination that’s ignored grows roots. Silence fuels hate, and inaction feeds oppression.
But the reverse is true, too. Every voice lifted in defense of our community, our family, creates ripples. Every act of courage in the face of intolerance builds a bridge.
We cannot wait for someone else to do what is ours to do. The world changes when people speak up, act out, and love fiercely. Stand up for the little ones, for the ones discovering who they are, for the ones finally stepping into their truth. Stand up for them, because they are your community. They are us.
If not you, then who?
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lefteagleblizzard · 2 months ago
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𝔇𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 Until Dawn males x male reader
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Summary: 4 smut scenarios featuring each of the men from Until Dawn. Each scenario exists in its own standalone world, completely unconnected to the others—distinct, isolated, and unforgettable.
Tags: He/Him pronouns used for the reader. Mike Munroe x male reader; Matt Taylor x male reader; Josh Washington x male reader; Chris Hartley x male reader. Set before the events of the game. All of these are separated and not connected. All of these with bottom male reader. Friends to lovers/ established relationships. Smut. Gay smut. Dom Mike Munroe. Gentle dom Matt Taylor. Dom Josh Washington. Submissive Chris Hartley. Pinning. Anal sex. Shower sex. Riding. Blowjob.
Recently reached 300 followers and i wanted to do something special <3
Words counts: 8000 words (around 2000 for each character)
Can also be found on wattpad and ao3
ℳ𝒾𝓀ℯ ℳ𝓊𝓃𝓇ℴℯ
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Cocky and relentless. Teasing that borders on merciless, using his natural charisma to push buttons and see you squirm and blush beneath him. He doesn't stop until he's left you utterly wrecked, trembling and begging for more. He'd enjoy having full control, alternating it with whispered reassurances or moments of tenderness.
Mike Munroe sat in the chair beside you, leaning back with his signature cocky grin plastered across his face, a textbook in front of him that he hadn't opened once since arriving. He had the look of someone who didn't really care about studying, which, frankly, was true. This entire night was a ruse, a flimsy excuse to be alone with you under the pretense of needing help with an exam.
The plan had seemed solid in his head. You'd sit close, explain things to him with that focused, determined look he loved and he'd lean in, let his charm work its magic and, eventually, your studying would devolve into something much less productive.
Mike had always been good at getting what he wanted. A flash of his smile, a sly remark and most people melted. But now, as you sat at the desk flipping through pages and genuinely trying to explain a concept he couldn't care less about, Mike was starting to feel… frustrated.
"You're telling me I have to memorize all this crap by Thursday? Who the hell needs to know about… what even is this—" he glanced down at the page in front of you, squinting as if the words offended him “—polynomial functions for real life? What, am I gonna solve equations at my job interview?"
You sighed, trying to ignore his dark eyes locked onto yours instead of the textbook in front of him. "You signed up for the class, Mike. I didn't force you to take it."
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, waving a dismissive hand. "But that's why you're here." He leaned in closer, resting his elbow on the desk and his chin in his hand, his face mere inches from yours. "You make it all make sense. You're, like, my personal genius."
Your stomach twisted at the compliment, even though you tried to brush it off. This was just Mike being Mike, wasn't it? He was like this with everyone. Charming, flirtatious, impossible to ignore. You'd seen him in action before: the way he smirked at the girls in class, the playful winks he threw at random people in the cafeteria.
It was just his thing. And yet, being on the receiving end of it made your heart race in a way that was becoming harder to ignore.
"Your 'genius' thinks you should actually start paying attention," you said, nudging the notebook closer to him. "Try solving this one."
Mike groaned dramatically, dragging the notebook toward him like it physically pained him to do so. "You're cute when you're bossy."
"Mike—“
"I'm kidding." He shot you a lopsided grin before glancing at the problem you'd written out. He picked up the pen, twirling it between his fingers as his brow furrowed in mock concentration. "Okay, so, uh… the square root here is… this, right?"
You couldn't help but laugh at how off he was, shaking your head as you leaned over to correct him. The faint scent of his cologne, woodsy with a hint of spice, hit you as you got closer and you froze for a moment, suddenly all too aware of how close you were.
Mike noticed. Of course he noticed. His grin widened and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes flicking from your face to your lips and back again.
You cleared your throat, quickly retreating to your seat. "Focus, Michael."
"I am focusing," he said, his voice warm and husky now, enough to make your pulse race and your breath catch. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms behind his head, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a strip of toned stomach. He caught your eyes flicking down and smirked. "On you."
Your face burned and you buried it in the textbook, pretending to reread a section. "Don't you have an exam to pass?"
"Yeah, yeah, blah blah blah," he said, waving his hand lazily. "But it’s hard to concentrate when you're sitting there all cute and stuff."
Your heart stuttered, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes, words stuck in your throat as you kept your focus ahead.
He shifted on the chair, his eyes trailing to your lips as you read aloud from the book. God, you had no idea how good they looked, slightly pursed as you concentrated on the material. He could only think about how soft they would feel against his, how warm they'd be as they moved down his body.
His gaze darkened, drifting lower, watching the way your throat moved as you spoke. He wanted to trace his lips there, feel your pulse against his tongue. The idea made his pants feel uncomfortably tight and he shifted again, trying to will the thoughts away.
The study session continued, with you trying your best to keep things on track despite Mike's constant interruptions. He'd accidentally brush his hand against yours when reaching for a pen, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. He'd lean in close under the guise of needing help, his lips so close to your ear that his breath tickled your skin as he murmured, "Explain that one more time?"
The shift you made brought you closer, your thigh brushing against his and Mike had to work hard not to react.
"Here," you said, pointing to a diagram you'd sketched out earlier. "This is how you get everything right. Got it?"
Mike barely registered your words. He was too busy realizing how he could feel the faint heat of your body. His eyes dropped to your hands as you gestured toward the page, wondering what they'd feel like gripping his shoulders, his hips, his—
"Mike”
"Hmm?" He blinked, forcing himself to meet your gaze.
"Are you sure you're okay? You keep zoning out. You said you needed help with this, right?"
Mike sighed dramatically, flopping back on the bed. "Yeah, yeah, I need help," he muttered, though he wasn't talking about school.
As you leaned forward to grab some papers on the desk, his eyes traced the curve of your jaw, the line of your neck, the way your shirt shifted slightly to reveal just a hint of skin.
It was torture.
Sweet, delicious torture.
"Can we take a break? I feel like I'm not gonna retain any of this if I don't decompress a little."
You glanced at the clock. "We've only been at it for 20 minutes."
"Exactly!" Mike said, his grin widening. "That's, like, more than I've ever studied so far."
You rolled your eyes, doing your best at suppress the warmth rising at his warm gaze in your direction. "Let me at least finish this thing?"
"Alright, fine," he muttered, picking up the book with a theatrical sigh and flipping through it aimlessly. "Keep cracking the whip, Teach."
You smiled faintly and got up to grab another set of notes from your backpack. The second you stood, Mike's eyes trailed down the curve of your back, lingering too long on the way your jeans clung to your butt. He bit his bottom lip, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled sharply through his nose.
Enough was enough.
With a quick sigh, he stood, ego hurt and curiosity piqued. He closed the textbook on your desk with a sharp thud. His lip curled briefly at the sight of the boring equations inside, a momentary flicker of irritation at how they'd monopolized your attention. Then he turned his focus back to you.
When you turned around, annoyed at now being able to find what you were looking for, you froze.
He moved closer until your back pressed against the wall. His chest rose and fell steadily, his lips curving into a soft, almost vulnerable smile.
"Can I ask you something?" His voice was low, the teasing edge stripped away, leaving something raw and earnest.
"Uh… sure?" Your pulse quickened as his hand came up, resting lightly against the wall beside your head. His tall frame radiating heat as he leaned closer to you. His dark eyes bore into yours, not with the usual teasing glint, but with raw, unfiltered emotion that made your heart race.
"Do you like me?" he asked, his voice low and intense.
The question hit you like a punch to the chest. "What?"
"You heard me," Mike said, his tone softening, though the intensity in his gaze didn't waver. "Do you like me? Because, damn it, I can't keep this up anymore. I came here because I wanted to be with you, not to study. I just… I need to know."
You stared at him, your heart pounding so loudly you could barely think after hearing the vulnerability in his voice.
"Just tell me the truth," he murmured, his hand lifting to cup your jaw. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek and the tenderness of the gesture made your knees weak.
Your throat tightened and you felt heat flooding your face. "Yes, Mike. I like you. A lot."
His grin returned, slow and breathtaking, as though your words were the only answer he'd ever wanted. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that."
He closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that stole the air from your lungs. It was hungry, raw, as though he'd been starving for this moment. His hands found your waist, pulling you forward until you were pressed tightly against him as his tongue pushed into your mouth, exploring with urgency.
You gripped his shoulders instinctively, your fingers digging into the firm muscle as he deepened the kiss.
He pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, his voice rough and breathless. "Fuck, I've been wanting this for so long. You have no idea."
He bent down abruptly, his arms sliding under your thighs to lift you effortlessly. You gasped, your legs wrapping around his waist. Mike's lips moved to your neck, kissing and nipping as he trailed down to your collarbone. His light stubble scratched your skin, a delicious friction that left you squirming in his hold. He sucked a mark just above your collarbone, his tongue soothing the sting before he moved up to your jaw, his breath hot against your cheek.
"You taste so fucking good," he murmured, his voice a husky growl.
His lips found yours again, the kiss deeper this time, his tongue delving into your mouth as though he couldn't get enough. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he ground his hips against you. You could feel his hardness through his jeans, pressing insistently against you and making you ache with need.
With a grunt, Mike turned and carried you to the bed, laying you down carefully before crawling on top of you. His weight pressed you into the mattress, his sturdy frame caging you in as his lips found your neck again. His hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a mix of reverence and urgency.
You moaned softly as his teeth grazed your neck, his tongue soothing the sensitive skin before his lips claimed yours again. His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, tugging it off in one swift motion before discarding his own. His bare chest pressed against yours, the heat of his skin making you gasp as his lips continued their assault on your neck.
Mike's hands moved lower, unfastening your pants with a speed that made your head spin. He slid them down along with your underwear, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you fully bare beneath him.
His fingers found their way between your legs, teasing you as he leaned down to kiss you again. His other hand wrapped around your length, stroking you with firm, steady movements that made your hips buck into his hand.
"You like that?" he asked, his grin wicked as he watched your reaction. "I want to hear you, baby. Don't hold back."
He worked you with expert precision, his mouth returning to your neck to suck another mark. He was relentless, his fingers slipping lower to tease your entrance, his voice low and commanding.
"Relax for me," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'll take care of you, I promise."
His fingers moving in and out with practiced ease as he murmured praises against your skin. His other hand continued stroking you, his thumb teasing your tip in a way that had you writhing beneath him.
"God, you're so tight," he muttered, his breath hot against your neck. "I can't wait to feel you around me."
When he finally replaced his fingers with the hot, throbbing weight of his cock, the stretch was overwhelming. You hissed, your hands gripping his shoulders as he sank into you slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size.
"Fuck," he groaned, his head falling forward to rest against yours.
Mike’s lips didn't stop their assault on your neck, alternating between wet, searing kisses and the light scrape of his teeth that left trails of fire in their wake. Each movement of his hips pressed his thick, throbbing length deeper against you, and the friction was maddening.
"Fuck," he whispered, "You feel so good. So fucking good."
His restraint snapped, his hips snapping against yours with increasing urgency. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he fucked you deeply, his groans mixing with your moans in the heated air.
His pace quickened, his thrusts hitting deeper as he angled his hips just right. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as pleasure overwhelmed you.
"That's it," he growled. "Let me hear you."
You couldn't hold back, your moans growing louder as he pushed you closer to the edge. His hand slipped between your bodies, stroking you in time with his thrusts.
"Come for me," he whispered, his voice strained.
His words sent you over the edge, your climax hitting you as you cried out his name. The way your body clenched around him pushed him over the edge, his thrusts growing erratic as he spilled inside you with a deep groan.
He collapsed on top of you, his body trembling as he pressed soft kisses to your neck, his arms wrapping around you as he held you close. "Worth every second," he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection.
ℳ𝒶𝓉𝓉 𝒯𝒶𝓎𝓁ℴ𝓇
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He would seek constant reassurance as he takes tentative steps. However, once he gains confidence, he becomes surprisingly assertive. He'd focus entirely on your pleasure. His athleticism would lend itself to strength and stamina, ensuring you're worshiped and cherished. He would revel in making you feel safe yet utterly overwhelmed by the raw power of his passion, glowing with pride every time he draws out a moan or gasp.
The campus was alive with the lazy hum of an afternoon sun. Matt Taylor was out on the field, his athletic frame in constant motion as he jogged the perimeter.
The way his shirt clung to him, damp and snug from exertion, only highlighted the strength in his broad shoulders and the subtle definition of his chest. It clung stubbornly to his abs, outlining the defined ridges of his stomach. Every muscle in his body seemed to work in perfect harmony as he moved.
The sweat glistening on his caramel skin only made him look more enticing.
He stopped after a lap, bending slightly to catch his breath, hands resting on his thighs. The sight was enough to steal yours.
There were moments when his head would turn, his dark, warm eyes flicking in your direction. He always seemed aware of your presence, like you were a natural part of his environment. The way you looked at him was as essential as the air he breathed.
He'd catch your gaze just for a second, his lips quivering into a smile. It was like he knew you were watching and wanted to remind you that he saw you, too.
With a deep breath, Matt straightened, one hand pushing his damp shirt away from his torso, exposing the hard lines of his stomach. Wiping the sweat from his face and neck with a calm, unhurried precision.
Matt tilted his head just slightly, as if gauging your reaction. Then, without missing a beat, he pressed his hand to his lips and blew a kiss in your direction.
Your heart stuttered, the sheer casualness of it leaving you stunned.
He turned toward the bench at the edge of the field, where his water bottle rested and took a moment to hydrate. He poured some of the cool water over his head, letting it cascade down his face and neck before trailing over his chest. The droplets caught in the sunlight, gleaming as they traced the curve of his shoulders and the hard ridges of his collarbone. His free hand dragged across his jaw, wiping the excess water away in a move that was as unintentional as it was captivating.
The others called out to him, ready to start another round of drills and he responded with an easy wave. As he jogged back to join them, he passed by where you sat.
"Hey," he said, his voice low and warm, tinged with the kind of softness he reserved for moments like this. He leaned down, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "I was trying out some new moves. Gotta know if they're, you know, impressive enough." His tone was light and teasing, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in his expression, like he genuinely cared what you thought.
"They're impressive," you admitted, your voice quieter than you intended.
His smile softened and for a moment, he looked almost shy. "Thanks," he said, straightening up and running a hand through his short, damp hair.
You watched as he jogged back to his friends, the muscles in his legs flexing with every step. He jumped right back into the game, throwing himself into it with renewed energy. He made daring plays, diving for the ball in ways that sent his friends laughing and clapping him on the back. He'd glance your way after every particularly bold move, his smile growing brighter each time he saw you watching, eager to impress you.
The dim lighting of the locker room cast soft shadows over Matt's glistening body as he leaned against the lockers, phone in hand, his voice warm and playful. His towel hung loosely around his neck and his shirt was long forgotten, leaving his torso on full display. Every inch of him radiated heat.
The room was quiet now, save for the distant echo of running water in the pipes and the soft shuffle of Matt's footsteps as he paced near the benches.
"Yeah, I'm still here," he chuckled into the phone, his deep voice carrying a hint of teasing affection as he talked with you. "No rush, though. No one else is around."
He glanced at the screen, his smile softening before he made up his mind on what to do next.
"Want to hang out? We can talk later after I'm done here, if you want?" He murmured, voice low with a sweet and earnest tone.
"Turn around," you said.
Matt froze for a moment, processing your voice now coming from behind him. He spun on his heel, his eyes widening as they landed on you standing just inside the locker room door. A surprised laugh escaped him and he hung up the call, sliding his phone into the pocket of his gym bag.
"You're here," he said, his grin growing wider. His dark eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and shyness as he took a hesitant step forward.
"I wanted to surprise you," you replied, your voice soft but steady.
He moved closer, the heat of his body palpable even from a few feet away. The faint sheen of sweat making every curve of his muscles stand out.
"Let me—uh—just a sec," Matt stammered, rubbing the back of his neck as he closed the distance between you. He was so careful, leaning in slowly as though worried he'd overwhelm you. His lips brushed yours lightly at first, the saltiness of his sweat mingling with the sweetness of his breath.
"You don't mind the, uh…" He gestured to himself, his cheeks flushing slightly.
"Not at all," you murmured, pulling him closer.
The kiss deepened, his mouth moving against yours with a mix of gentle passion and restrained hunger. One arm looped around your waist while his big hand cradled the back of your head. His hands found your hips, his touch firm but tender.
He broke the kiss only to glance over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the empty locker room. Once satisfied you were alone, he turned back to you, his expression soft but smoldering.
"Shower's right there," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Think we could, uh… clean up together?"
The corner of his mouth twitched in a nervous smile, but the desire in his eyes was undeniable.
You didn't answer with words, letting your lips find his again instead, this time with more urgency as he backed behind with you caged in his arms.
The shower stalls were humid and warm, steam curling in the air as Matt turned on the water, letting it cascade down his back. He stood under the stream for a moment, his head tilted back, droplets running over his shoulders and down his chest, washing away the sweat that clung to him.
He turned to you, his expression soft but filled with intent. "Come here," he whispered, holding out a hand.
You stepped into the stall, the warm spray hitting your now naked skin as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. His lips found yours again, deeper this time, his hands exploring your back, your sides, the curve of your hips. His touch was firm but gentle, every movement infused with the kind of care that made your chest ache.
His hands moved to your waist, lifting you slightly to press you against the cool tile wall. The contrast of temperatures sent a shiver through you, but Matt's body pressed against yours was a furnace, his heat keeping you grounded.
The water ran between you, slicking your skin as his kisses trailed down your neck, his lips warm and soft against your wet skin. His breath was hot, mouth lingering over every inch of you like he couldn't get enough.
"I want to make you feel good," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours, water dripping from his hair and into your eyes.
Hands broad and rough from years of training roamed your body with deliberate care. He started at your waist, his thumbs grazing your hips, then slid them down to cup your thighs, pulling you closer until every inch of him was flush against you.
His lips moved down the side of your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses that lingered, his tongue flicking out to taste the droplets sliding down your skin. "You feel so damn good." Matt murmured, his voice thick with need.
His teeth grazed your bottom lip before his tongue pushed into your mouth. His hands drifted lower, gripping your ass firmly as he hoisted you up, pressing you against the cold tile wall.
His hips pressed into yours and you felt the unmistakable hardness between his legs, the weight of him grinding slowly.
"Matt," you gasped, your voice catching in your throat as his lips found your collarbone, then moved lower, trailing down your chest. He paused at your nipple, his mouth closing around it, his tongue swirling as his teeth grazed just enough to make you arch into him.
The water streamed down his back as he continued his descent, his tongue and lips mapping a path across your stomach, his hands gripping your hips tightly, anchoring you. He looked up at you as he knelt, his eyes filled with a hunger that made your knees weak.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice low, almost reverent.
You nodded quickly, your breath hitching as he kissed along your thighs, his mouth hot against your damp skin. His fingers traced delicate patterns, teasing you, making you ache for more. He submits his mouth to take on your length, his tongue flicking out to taste you, slow and deliberate as he traced every vein and ridge.
The sensation of his mouth on you was almost too much. Your hands flew to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as you arched up against him.
His hands gently rested on your soft, supple ass. He circled the hole gently before pressing his finger inside up to the second knuckle. Your head tilting up as the finger went in deeper before adding in another finger.
When you were trembling beneath his touch, Matt stood again, pulling you into another searing kiss. His hands gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you easily as he aligned himself with you. The anticipation was overwhelming, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Tell me if I'm too much. I don't want to hurt you."
His sweetness melted into raw passion as he slowly pushed inside, stretching you in a way that made your breath catch. The pressure was intense, the fullness almost too much, but Matt paused, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured against your skin.
"You're doing so good for me," he said, his voice strained, his restraint obvious as he let you adjust.
When you nodded, giving him the okay, he began to move. His thrusts were slow at first, measured, each one sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady as he found a rhythm, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the small, steamy space.
"You're so tight," he groaned, his voice barely above a whisper as he buried himself deeper.
His pace quickened, his control slipping with each thrust, his eyes watching you intensively, filled with unspoken adoration and need.
Matt's hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual sensations were overwhelming, your body tightening around him as you felt yourself teetering on the brink.
"Come for me. I want to feel you," Matt whispered, voice a mix of command and plea.
His words pushed you over the edge, your climax ripping through you with an intensity that left you shaking, your cries muffled against his shoulder. The way your body clenched around him sent him spiraling, his thrusts becoming erratic as he groaned your name, his release spilling inside of you hot, heavy and overwhelming.
He held you there, both of you trembling as the water continued to pour over your exhausted bodies, his breath ragged but his smile soft.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse but filled with tenderness.
You nodded, your fingers threading through his damp hair as you pulled him into a soft, lingering kiss. "More than okay."
And with that, Matt grinned affectionately before wrapping you in his arms, his warmth and love enveloping you completely.
𝒥ℴ𝓈𝒽 𝒲𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓉ℴ𝓃
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He would be almost hypnotic. His hands firm, guiding you like a puppeteer while he watches every reaction with piercing eyes. Touch that alternate between rough and tender. He'd seek absolute surrender, his lips tracing feverish paths across your skin as he demands every gasp, every shiver, until you're completely undone.
The basement was dimly lit, a warm glow from the single overhead bulb casting shadows over the eclectic collection of items Josh's family had accumulated over the years. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with dusty film reels, old cameras and props from Josh's endless experiments in cinematography. You trailed behind him as he rifled through a box, muttering under his breath about where he'd left the camera he needed.
"You've got enough stuff down here to make a whole trilogy,” you spoke amazed, picking up a fake severed hand from one of the nearby tables. "Let me guess, this was for some horror project?"
Josh turned, his smirk lighting up his face even in the shadows. "Oh, that? Nah, that was just Halloween last year. Dad thought it'd be funny to have it sticking out of the candy bowl." He rummaged through a nearby crate, pulling out a few props from old projects like the fake blood packets and a weathered script.
You laughed, shaking your head as you placed it back on the table. Josh returned to rummaging through his box of supplies and your attention wandered to a nearby shelf where a cracked clown mask hung ominously. This place is like a treasure trove, a mix of fascinating and unsettling, much like Josh himself. His mind always worked a mile a minute, brimming with ideas that danced somewhere between genius and chaos.
"Found it!" Josh declared, holding up a vintage film camera triumphantly. "This baby's gonna make my project an A+ for sure."
"Finally," you teased, crossing your arms. "I thought we'd be down here forever."
Josh's grin widened, that familiar mischievous glint lighting up his eyes. "Oh, don't tell me you're scared of basements."
"I'm not scared of this place," you replied, rolling your eyes while turning around to see again a cool looking mask that you wanted to try out.
"No?" he asked, his tone mock-innocent as he casually reached for something behind him.
When you turned around to face your boyfriend again, your eyes were met with a mask that resembles a skull-like style with a pair of thin black eyebrows, a cracked nose and rotten styled teeth. The dim light casting eerie shadows across the distorted features.
He lunged at you with a guttural growl, arms outstretched. Startled, you yelped involuntarily, stumbling back a step as he grabbed you with exaggerated ferocity. He gripped tightly your waist and hoisted you effortlessly onto a nearby table, pinning you in place.
"Gotcha!" he exclaimed, pulling the mask off to reveal his gleeful grin.
"You absolute jerk!" you gasped, swatting at his chest with your right hand in frustration.
Josh laughed, his deep, warm chuckle echoing through the basement. "You should've seen your face! Priceless."
"You're the worst," you muttered, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed how flustered you were.
"Oh, come on," he said, leaning closer. His hands rested on either side of your hips, trapping you. "You're even more handsome when you're scared. Seriously, it's not fair."
He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, "Let me make it up to you for my genius prank." He concluded the line with a kiss to your neck, his lips warm and insistent against your skin.
"Trust me," he whispered, his voice low and rough, his hands sliding up your sides as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot just below your ear.
Your breath hitched, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down your neck and along your collarbone. His fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, pushing it up to expose more skin, his lips following the path his hands carved.
"We’ve done it not even an hour ago," you murmured, your voice trembling as he nipped lightly at your shoulder.
Josh chuckled against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. "Perfect then! Means that you’re ready for me," he admitted, pressing his lips to yours into a kiss that was equal parts sweet and consuming. His hands roamed your body with a mix of confidence and care, his touch leaving trails of heat in its wake.
He broke the kiss just long enough to tug your shirt over your head, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you. "You look good," he said simply, his voice tinged with awe.
"Stop being sappy," you teased, though your heart raced at his words.
Josh grinned, his hands sliding to your waistband. "Fine, I'll focus on other things"
He made quick work of your pants, his lips finding yours again as he pressed you back against the table. The feel of his body against yours, the weight of him grounding you, sent a shiver down your spine.
"Tell me what you want," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and intimate.
"You," you replied without hesitation, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.
Josh groaned softly, his fingers tightened on your thighs, his thumbs stroking the bare skin just above your knees as he stepped closer, pressing himself against you. His lips trailed along your jawline, soft and teasing at first, but the heat in his movements grew with each passing second.
He tilted your head slightly, exposing more of your neck and pressing his lips there, warm and insistent.
Your breath hitched as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot just below your ear, his tongue following in a slow, deliberate sweep that left you shivering. His hands roamed upward, fingers hooking under the hem of your shirt before tugging it over your head in one swift motion.
"God," he breathed, pulling back just enough to take you in. His eyes were dark, predatory. "You're fucking amazing."
"You don't look so bad yourself," you managed, your voice shaky but laced with a teasing edge.
Josh smirked, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, there was no pretense of restraint. His tongue slid against yours, the kiss messy and consuming as his hands pulled you closer until there wasn't an inch of space between you.
Your hands found their way to his shirt, pushing it up over his torso. He broke the kiss just long enough to yank it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor before returning his lips to yours. The heat of his bare chest against yours sent a thrill through you, his skin warm and slightly damp as your hands explored the defined lines of his back.
Josh's hips rolled against yours and you felt the unmistakable hardness pressing against your thigh. Your own erection makes your pants feel painfully tight. He groaned softly, his breath hot against your neck as he ground into you, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body.
"You're driving me crazy," he admitted, his voice rough as his hands slid to the waistband of your pants. He hesitated for just a moment, his eyes meeting yours. "Can I…?"
"Yes," you said quickly, the word barely more than a whisper.
He grinned, his usual cocky demeanor softened by the flush in his cheeks, and tugged your pants down, his hands deliberate and firm. You kicked them off, your skin prickling with anticipation as he leaned back to admire you.
"You're perfect," Josh said, his voice husky as his fingers traced along your thighs, his touch featherlight but electrifying.
You reached for him, pulling him closer until his body was pressed fully against yours. The feel of him, hard and eager, against your own growing arousal made you gasp. Josh took the opportunity to kiss you again, his hands sliding lower to grip your ass, lifting you slightly as he aligned himself with you.
"Ready?" he asked, his hands voice soft but filled with intensity.
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as he positioned himself. The stretch as he pushed inside was slow and deliberate, his movements measured as he let you adjust to the fullness.
"Fuck," he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he buried himself completely.
The words sent a shiver through you, your hands tightening on his shoulders as you urged him to move. Josh pulled back slightly, his hips rocking forward again in a slow, steady rhythm that left you breathless.
He found a pace that was both gentle and intense, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one drawing soft moans from your lips. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as he pressed kisses to your neck, your jaw, your lips.
Your own voice trembling as the pleasure built with each movement.
Josh's pace quickened, his control slipping as his need for you overwhelmed him. The table beneath you creaked with each thrust, but neither of you cared. The only thing that mattered was the way he filled you, the way his body moved against yours like you were made for each other.
Your climax hit suddenly, a wave of pleasure crashing over you and leaving you trembling in his arms. You cried out his name, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body clenched around him.
Josh wasn't far behind. His thrusts grew erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself as deep as he could, groaning your name as he spilled into you. The warmth of his release sent another shiver through you, the sensation leaving you breathless.
For a moment, the two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the table, your breaths mingling as you came down from the high. Josh pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his hands trailing soothing patterns on your back.
"Am i forgiven now?" he asked, his voice hoarse but laced with his usual humor.
You laughed softly, nuzzling into his neck. "Yeah, I'd say so."
Josh grinned, his arms tightening around you as he rested his forehead against yours. "Good. Because I'm not done yet."
𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈 ℋ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓁ℯ𝓎
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Hesitant, nervous chuckles and self-deprecating jokes peppering the atmosphere before his passion takes over. He's the type to fumble slightly, then find his rhythm as he becomes more confident. He'd moan sweetly, almost embarrassed by how lost he becomes in you, whispering heartfelt praise and words that reflect just how irresistible he finds you.
The game's victory screen flashed across the TV, the sound of triumphant chiptunes filling the room. Both you and Chris collapsed onto the bed in an exhausted heap, the adrenaline of finally beating your highest score leaving you giddy. His laughter bubbled up first, that unmistakable mix of relief and joy that only he could manage and you couldn't help but join in.
"We actually did it," Chris said, breathless as he flopped onto his back, one arm draped lazily across his forehead. "I thought we were doomed when you missed that jump in the third level."
"Excuse me, you're the one who forgot to grab the power-up right before the boss fight." You shot back, turning your head to face him.
Chris groaned, dramatically rolling onto his side to look at you. His glasses were slightly askew and his hair was sticking up in every direction, but he looked so completely relaxed and at ease in that moment that it made your chest ache in the best way. "Okay, okay, my bad. But you have to admit I nailed that final combo."
You snorted, nudging his shoulder with yours. "Yeah, sure. But only because I carried us through the rest of the game."
His jaw dropped in mock outrage. "Carried us? You died twice in the first round, man!"
“And who revived you at the end?" you shot back, smirking.
Chris opened his mouth to respond but stopped, his grin widening as he broke into laughter. "Alright, alright. You're not entirely useless. We're gaming legends now! They're gonna put our names in the Hall of Fame or something."
"Right next to the guy who discovered cheat codes for unlimited lives," you quipped.
"Exactly," he said, grinning as his blue eyes sparkled behind his glasses. "We're pioneers of our time."
The two of you laid there, the laughter slowly fading into a comfortable silence. The faint glow of the TV bathed the room in soft light, illuminating the faint curve of his smile as he gazed up at the ceiling. His arm was still close to yours, his fingers just brushing against your skin in a way that felt deliberate but unspoken.
"It was fun," Chris said after a moment, his voice quieter now.
"Yeah," you agreed, your own tone softer. "I don't think I've laughed this much in a while."
He turned his head to look at you, his glasses sliding down his nose slightly. "From now on you'll be my good luck charm."
You chuckled, shaking your head. "You just needed someone to keep you focused. You do get distracted a lot."
Chris groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Don't remind me. I'm like a dog chasing squirrels. Oh look, shiny object—game over."
You both laughed again, the sound soft and intimate in the late-night stillness. When it faded, you found him watching you, his blue eyes catching the flicker of light from the TV.
"What?" you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity.
"Nothing," he said quickly, but his grin gave him away. "You're a lot of fun to hang out with, you know that? Like, even when you're roasting me."
"Glad to be of service," you teased, your own grin mirroring his.
His gaze lingered a little longer than usual, his expression shifting slightly. "No, but seriously. I mean it. You're, uh… you're really great."
You felt your cheeks warm at his words, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard.
"Thanks," you said softly. "You're pretty great too, Chris."
He smiled, a little shyly this time, and turned onto his side fully, propping his head up on one hand. "Have you ever thought about how weird life is? Like, one day you're just doing your usual things, then Sam one day shows up with someone like you and suddenly everything's a million times better. Boom. Butterfly effect."
You raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to be romantic at two in the morning? Because I think the lack of sleep is getting to you."
"Hey, don't ruin my moment!" he protested, but his laughter undercut his words.
You laughed too, the sound mingling with his as the moment stretched on.
You sat up on the bed and then crawled toward your destination, the TV's glow fading as you turned it off. When you turned back to the bed, Chris was sprawled out like a contented cat, his arms spread wide, his legs slightly apart. His glasses were back into their original place at the top of his nose.
"You just gonna stare, or are you gonna accept my invitation?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion.
You laughed, shaking your head, but the way his smile widened when you leaned closer told you that you weren't fooling him for a second. You crawled onto the bed, resting against his side as he let his arm fall lazily around your waist.
"Happy now?" you asked, pressing a quick kiss to his left cheek.
"Getting there," he said, voice soft and a little breathless
You didn't stop, peppering more kisses along his cheek and down to his jaw, light scratches from his stubble against your lips. Your hand wandered lower, brushing over his stomach, then down to his pants, where you felt the beginnings of his growing arousal.
Chris chuckled, the sound nervous but filled with anticipation. His free hand moved to your back, pulling you closer as his breath hitched. "Wow, okay, uh… Someone's feeling bold tonight," he murmured, though his grin betrayed how much he was enjoying it.
"Aren't we supposed to be basking in our gaming glory?"
You squeezed him gently through the fabric, feeling him harden further under your touch. "Should I stop, then?" you teased, feigning innocence as your fingers lingered.
"Nope!" he blurted out quickly, his voice cracking slightly as his head shot up. His face was flushed, but his lips found yours in a soft, insistent kiss, his usual shyness tempered by a growing determination.
The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing yours as his hand slid under your shirt, his fingers warm and exploratory against your skin. You shifted, straddling his lap, and he let out a quiet groan as your weight pressed down on him. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you slightly as he rolled his hips up, creating delicious friction that left you both breathless.
"God, you're… You're really good at this," Chris muttered, his lips trailing down your neck, each kiss accompanied by a soft hum of approval.
"You sound surprised," you teased, grinding against him again just to hear the way his breath caught.
He laughed softly, though it quickly turned into a low groan. "No, no, I mean—I just—" He stopped, shaking his head as if words were failing him entirely. "Never mind. Keep doing that… please?"
You grinned, leaning in to kiss him again, your hands slipping under his shirt to explore the warm expanse of his chest. He was lean but toned, his body radiating heat as your fingers traced over him, eliciting small, breathy noises that only spurred you on.
Chris's hands slid to the waistband of his pants, fumbling slightly as he worked them down. "Help me out here," he said with a nervous laugh, his cheeks red but his smile never wavering.
You helped him and he helped you out, the two of you working together to peel away the layers until you were completely bare. Him beneath you with your naked body on top of his. His erection stood proud, flushed and eager and the sight of him vulnerable yet so clearly aroused made your own desire burn hotter.
"You're handsome, you know that?" you said softly, running your hands over his thighs as you sat back to take him in.
Chris laughed, covering his face with one hand. "Oh my God, don't say stuff like that. I'll die."
"Too bad. I’ll say it, whether you like it or not," you teased, leaning down to kiss him again.
His response was a muffled laugh against your lips, but it melted into a moan as you reached down to guide him to your entrance. He gripped your hips tightly, his eyes searching yours for confirmation and when you nodded, he let out a shaky breath.
"Okay," he said, his voice soft but steady. "Okay, just—take your time."
You did, slowly sinking onto him, the stretch intense but achingly good. Chris's grip on your hips tightened, his head falling back against the pillow as a low groan escaped him.
"Holy shit," he whispered, his hands trembling slightly as he held you steady. "God, you feel amazing."
You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you began to move, your body adjusting to the rhythm as you found a steady pace. Chris's eyes were half-lidded, his lips parted as he sat up from his previous laid position. His hands were guiding your movements but never pushing, always letting you set the pace.
"Is this— shit, is this okay?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly as his hips bucked up involuntarily.
"it's perfect," you murmured, leaning down to kiss him. "You're perfect."
His laugh was breathless, almost disbelieving, but he met your kiss with fervor, his tongue tangling with yours as his hands explored your body. The soft gasps he made, whispered curses, your name falling from his lips like a prayer… it all drove you closer to the edge with every thrust.
Chris's movements became more erratic, his hips meeting yours with increasing urgency. "I'm—oh God, I don't think I'm gonna last," he admitted, his voice high and strained
"Don't hold back," you said, your own voice trembling as your climax built.
With a choked groan, Chris buried himself as deep as he could and tightened his arm around your body, his release hitting him in waves that left him trembling beneath you. The feeling of him filling you, combined with the look of utter ecstasy on his face, sent you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing through you as you collapsed onto his chest.
For a moment, the two of you stayed in that position, your breaths mingling as you came down from the high. Chris's arms pulled you close as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.
"Best. Night. Ever," he murmured, his voice warm and content.
"Agreed," you said, your own smile matching his as you nuzzled against him.
If you liked this, please leave a comment. I love reading them <3. Let me know if you had a favorite one out of this four fine men ;)
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demiesworld · 1 year ago
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jjk men and how they show their love for you
☆ characters: satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, kento nanami, + choso
☆ genre: fluff, romantic, domestic
☆ contents: mentions of abuse & death in toji's part, but nothing graphic
☆ notes: reader is a female and uses she/her pronouns. ages are not mentioned in this, but the reader is of legal age. curse spirits, sorcerers, etc. do not exist. everything is purely fictional.
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— satoru gojo: cuddling
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he likes it when you two are alone together in the privacy of your home, cuddling together underneath a warm blanket while watching a really bad (in his opinion) movie that you picked out. and even though he really wants to critique the writer's script of the characters, and the actors acting performance, satoru doesn't say not a word to you about it. he just holds you around your waist tighter and nuzzles his nose into your neck. he likes the smell of you after a shower because you smell fresh and it's comforting to him.
— suguru geto: quality time
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to suguru, there's no better way to keep your attention on him than taking you out somewhere or just spending time together. when he takes you out on a date, he encourages you to silence your phone (or better yet turn it off) to avoid any distractions. same goes for when you two are being intimate. he's a man that wants eyes on him and for you to listen to him. he does the same thing for you. you want to tell suguru about the nosy bitch at work? he's listening and giving you advice. you want to go to the netherlands? he's buying a plane ticket in business class for you two. whatever it is, suguru loves to spend time with you as long as you are on the same page as him.
— toji fushiguro: acts of service
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growing up in the zenin family and being abused by them sculpted toji into the cold, callous man he is today. followed by the sudden and tragic death of his previous wife he didn't think he could find love ever again. not until he met you. you warmed this man's heart at the first time he saw you. he likes to show you that he loves you by doing things that makes your life easier. he'll pay and put gas in your car. he will help you with cleaning the dishes after a meal that you've cooked for. if you're running short on money for you rent, he'll even cover it for you and doesn't expect for you to pay him back. just the thought of you being comfortable is a good enough reward.
— kento nanami: words of affirmation
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with kento, you would wake up in the mornings to a good morning text followed by him reminding you of your beauty, your excellence, and telling you not to let menial things get you in a bad mood. in your lunches you would find a hand-written note from kento complimenting you. in spite of being a full-time salaryman, kento would call you during his lunch break to talk to you and listen as you complain about your coworkers. he loves hearing your voice. at night, just before your head hits the pillow he would kiss your forehead and wish you a good night's rest. kento can be quite the charming man when it comes to you.
— choso: gift giving
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choso... precious choso. he likes to shower you with gifts as a way to show his undying love and appreciation for you. if you mention that you like something, but you couldn't get it, best believe it will be either on your doorstep or in your hand within the next day. when he sees you eyeing something in the store for even a second, choso will buy it for you. he won't take any "no's", "stops", or returning the item back. choso bought it FOR you. if you return any of his gifts it will hurt his feelings and he'll think you don't love him. so be careful when you are trying to let choso know not to get you gifts.
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letter from demi: i have adopted a new style of how i do... idk what you call these blurbs? headcanons? idk. anyways im changing some things up with how my posts are... styled. i hope the work and the way it is made looks good! lmk what you think babes!
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