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norikuna · 2 months ago

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DITTO — Gojo Satoru a rewrite of this post.

prologue. → brave, lucky, courageous. these are the words that people bestow upon you when the dust has cleared, and the king of curses is no more. you disagree, for if you were lucky, gojo satoru would still be standing at your side. instead you've been left to stare at the ocean shoreline on your own, without your best friend (the love of your life) by your side.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. unfulfilled/unresolved love. angst, hurt, comfort, fluff. your usual shenanigans. sfw! implied, minor satosugu (mb because geto is my beautiful sad princess and i love him so he has to be a part of everything). pining, idiots in love. grief, and what you do after you've lost what you treasure the most etc u get it. reader is from an unnamed clan, has a younger brother. reader also wears skirts, dresses sometimes, character death + injury

word count. 11k! 😭 song inspiration. ditto — newjeans / 뉴진스 (2022) a/n. i wrote rough headcanons and posted them yesterday but i woke up thinking dang i should actually write something better about that lmao. update: i thought i'd finish this in a few hours, why did this take me like 2 days? update #2: dawg this is long as fuck...this kinda depressed me to write CROSSPOSTED ON AO3 <3 💙

mp3. do you think about me now, yeah. all the time...

✉️ — 1995. 💬 — gojo.

these meeting rooms were hushed, grand, and the kind of place that simply swallowed up any sound and echo; where the wood-panelled walls were lined with the tapestries and polished symbols of his clan.

and in the hush, gojo had sat cross-legged on the tatami mat, trying to listen to the conversation of the adults, with their low and steady voices that droned on. this was so boring. they were always speaking of things that he just couldn't understand, but his parents said these meetings were important, and so he was dragged along - much to his eternal chagrin. still, he shifted in place, glancing around at the detailed screens painting around the corners of the room, in varying shades of blue.

across the room, there was another kid. one who sat beside her father, fidgeting just as he was. and gojo could tell by the way that you kept glancing towards the door that you, too, longed to escape. your gaze caught his, and there was that flicker of mutual boredom that sparked between you two. you had scrunched up her nose, as if to say 'this is so boring, isn't it?'

gojo grinned, stifling a giggle. he had leaned back, just a little, surveying the adults who paid no heed to him, before letting himself inch across the rough texture of the mat towards the door.

"do you want to see the garden?" he mouthed silently, his words exaggerated and slow, so you would understand.

your eyes had lit up, and you nodded, just as your father (well, he assumed it was her father) leaned down to whisper something in your ear, his voice a low rumble that was far too quiet for gojo to catch. you were nodding obediently, but your eyes were now fixed with the glimmer of excitement, and he quickly held the door open for you as you scrambled out the door, following him quietly as they creaked down the long hallway.

and soon, they reached the back of the estate, where the garden stretched out like a hidden oasis, filled with the flowering bushes, the winding stone paths, and the pond that glistened in the morning light. suddenly, he stopped by the edge of the pond, brushing pale hair out of his stinging eyes, "i'm satoru, by the way."

you had sat down quickly, as though the long walk had winded her (gojo had barely needed to stop to catch is breath), and your robes dipped into the pond, letting the water seep up slowly, "i've heard of you. my parents say you're an only child."

gojo shrugged, trying to think of something important he could tell you, "it's not so bad. one day, i'm going to be the head of my clan," puffing up his chest a little.

you had nodded, "i would like to be too, but my younger brother would get it. because...you know."

gojo didn't quite know but he nodded like he understood, and he tried to think of something smarter to say, "well the job isn't that fun anyway. it's just sitting around reading papers, and telling people what to do."

you had pouted, frowning, "i want to tell people what to do all day. and i would get the nicest robes too as clan head."

and you had looked so unhappy at the prospect that you were being robbed of a stellar wardrobe that gojo made up his mind, right then and there, "tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?"

your face had lit up, holding your little pinky up to his, "promise?"

gojo linked his finger with hers, sealing this silly vow and laughing, "why not?"

✉️ — 1996. 💬 — you.

when you're seven years old, you’ve resigned yourself to trailing behind gojo, watching as your friend takes on the world with the same reckless, eager energy that he seems to pour into everything that he does.

his voice has picked up a confidence that you haven't felt yet, and there's a permanent, flashy grin on his face that says he doesn't care what anyone thinks about him, not his parents, nor his clan.

and today, gojo's decided that the old shrine on the edge of your family estate needs exploring. you're a little less certain, especially since your father had told you that this shrine was haunted, but you find yourself following the boy anyway, and there's that silent agreement in place: he leads, you follow. you're alright with that, that's just the way it's always been.

he's dressed, as usual, in a loose grey hoodie that's two sizes too big for him, and his jeans have a hole in the knee; some small rebellion against his clan's strict sense of tradition. even his hair is awfully emssy, tousled and getting a little too long, and you know he hates it when his mother tries to comb it down, and you easily suspect that gojo just ruffles it on purpose to get a reaction out of those around him. he probably does everything on purpose for a round of reactions, honestly.

you, on the other hand, have your nicest lilac skirt on, and there's a small bow in your hair that the maidservants had pinned themselves (your mother had been too deep in her cups all morning). but you had fluttered around, feeling quite pretty in your skirt; like you were a fairy that would sprout wings and live in the clouds.

gojo glances back at you, and rolls his eyes, "you know, you look like you're going to one of the clan meetings," he mutters, but there's a playful glint in his eye. he's pulled a twig from the ground, and he's waving it around like a sword, slicing through imaginary enemies as he marches forward like an idiot.

you just shrug, quietly watching him cut through the tall grass ahead, "i like looking nice," you mumble, a little embarrassed. you can feel the careful way the sweet, old servant (she turned seventy last week!) had arranged your hair, and the press of the bow keeping it every lock in place.

"well, if you ever decide to look like you're not on your way to sit for a court painting, let me know," gojo says, smirking (he thinks he's funny) as he waves his 'sword' around, battling on the false frontlines.

but despite yourself, you laugh, and quicken your pace to keep up with him, and so, gojo slows just a bit, enough that you're walking side by side now, and his arm brushes against yours.

"did you know that they say that this shrine is spooked?" he asks, his voice falling to a dramatic whisper.

"i live here, satoru. obviously, duh," and the shrine comes into view, and it's small, weathered with age, but to you, it looks grand and mysterious, even magical, "do you believe it's haunted?"

gojo shrugs, unfazed, "nah, probably just an old rock. but it would be cool if it was. maybe, we'll see a ghost."

now you've taken a hesitant step back, but gojo just grins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward, and his hand is warm and steady in yours.

"c'mon, don't be a chicken," he teases, laughing as he drags you closer, and you plant your feet firmly in the ground, watching as clouds begin to roll over the sky, ominous and gloomy.

oh, this place is definitely haunted. your father was right, it's so over for you now. a massive, ugly curse is going to pop out and eat you alive, and steal your pretty hair bow. you mutter a small prayer under your breath. gojo satoru, you will pay for this.

✉️ — 2000. 💬 — you.

you'd always heard whispers about yourself from the other kids, how you were too quiet, or you tried far too hard to be perfect — unwilling to roughhouse the way they did. perhaps they were right, and it was true that you preferred to sit alone. you think it was the feeling of order you enjoyed, of a world you could control, even if it was just through lines on a piece of paper.

but today, their voices were louder than usual. a small group had gathered near the cherry blossom tree where you'd settle yourself, and they circled around like hungry wolves sniffing out something they could tear apart.

one girl wrinkled her nose and called you prissy (well, okay) and another boy had snickered and muttered that you were so boring, and it was a wonder that you even had a friend like gojo.

ouch.

their words felt like small, precise cuts, sharper than expected. you had heard these things before. after all, everyone had reached the age where they were aware of their abilities, their techniques as jujutsu sorcerers.

you didn't mind your own technique, making sure to channel time and energy to learn so you could grow up and be as good as your father one day (a well established sorcerer in his own right, if a bit out of shape).

but you didn't have to be very smart to know that gojo's abilities stood out entirely in a different way, and you heard your parents whisper in hushed tones at how lucky his clan was to have a child like that. with the right training and moulding, he could be the most powerful man to walk the earth.

how silly. gojo was all laughs, and smiles, and stupid jokes and bright, clever eyes. you thought it was dumb how they all spoke about an eleven year old boy like he was a weapon, kept in its sheath until it was ready to be drawn.

but of course, all the kids wanted to be friends with him instead. and today, these barbs hurt more — and you kept your eyes down, clutching your books a bit tighter, willing for these supposed 'friends' of yours to go away.

but before you could say anything, you heard his stomps.

"hey!"

gojo's voice was unmistakable, sharp and sudden as he clamoured over, all brashness and bravado. he had gotten a bad haircut recently (entirely his own fault for thinking he could put scissors to his own hair, but you had laughed so hard as he swore curses) so white tufts stuck out all over his head, making him look like he got stuck in a wall socket, even crazier than usual.

but gojo didn't look at you, just planted himself between you and the group, bruised fists clenched (they trained him too hard), and shoulders set, "what's your problem?"

the other kids stammered, clearly surprised, but that didn't stop him, he who looked like a small, lanky and angry polar bear.

"you think you're so funny? talking like that? say it again, and i'll knock your teeth out."

"ah, satoru -" you ran your tongue behind your teeth, the last thing everyone needed was another fight of bruised pride, and yanked hair, rolling around in the dust.

but one of the boys had muttered something under his breath, taking a half-step back. the others followed, shuffling, rolling their eyes and looking anywhere but at you and gojo.

and your best friend didn't move until they had scattered completely, leaving behind only the faint echos of their derision as they fled. and then he turned to you, his scowl fading into something kinder (good, you didn't like seeing him so upset) as he dropped onto the bench, beside you, pulling his knee up onto the bench so he could rest his chin against it casually.

"they're just idiots," he said, rolling his eyes, and his voice was softer, playful again, "don't listen to them."

you gave him a small smile, nodding, as the knot in chest loosened a little, "i wasn't really listening to them," you murmured, even though you probably knew that was a bold-faced lie.

gojo released a loud laugh, much too loud and forced, as he nudged you with his elbow, and he must have known it too, but he was smiling, "good, that's the spirit."

You managed a small smile, nodding, the knot in your chest loosening a little.

the world was quiet again as you both sat in silence, the soft breeze ruffling the grass and the cherry blossoms overhead. and then, with a shyer glance, you managed to look over at your friend, watching as messy tufts of his snowy hair moved ever so slightly in the breeze.

"thanks, 'toru," you said, quietly, but he just shrugged it off, brushing it away as though it was nothing.

"hey, what am i here for?"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — you.

gojo was sprawled across your wide bed, looking at you as if you were the most ridiculous person in the entire world. his own suitcase sat beside him, already paced with the very few things he needed, and now he watched you with that eager, restless gleam in his blue eyes, like he could barely sit still.

"you're so overthinking this," he said, bright voice full of impatience, "just throw some stuff in a bag, and we're good to go. it's just tokyo, not the end of the world."

you scowled at the boy, holding up two sweaters; one sensible in a shade of pale blue, and the other thick, deep red and woollen, "but what if it gets cold? or rains?"

gojo rolled his eyes, throwing his head back dramatically onto your pillow, hands behind his head as he sprawled around like a snooty prince with all the time in the world.

"it's summer, it's tokyo, and it's not like we're moving to america," he smiled, "besides, if you pack any slower, we'll miss our first year."

you tried to brush it off, and something about his easy confidence made you feel a sharp twinge of nerve. this was really happening, you were truly leaving the bounds of your family estates, stepping out into the world, to attend jujutsu tech, a school in tokyo that you had heard so much about. well, there was another school here, in kyoto, but god, it would just be nice to get out of these ancient walls.

and yet -

gojo simply looked like he couldn't wait to shake the dust of his home off his sneakers, you felt something pull at you, like a sudden-appearing string that tied you to your home city, and it wouldn't let you go.

your best friend had caught the look on your face, and softened — just a bit, as he twiddled with a brand new pair of sunglasses, and he sat up closer, watching you carefully, "you're really going to miss it here, aren't you?"

and you shrugged, fidgeting with the sleeves of the red sweater, "i don't know. maybe, i suppose. don't you feel that way at all, satoru?"

he shook his head, resolute, "not even a little," but he saw your uncertainty, "listen, you'll be fine. you'll love tokyo. and hey," he nudged you gently with his knee, "i'll be right there with you anyway."

you appreciated that his confidence felt like a promise, something that you could at least hold onto, even in the big capital, and with a big, exaggerated sigh you tossed both sweaters into the suitcase.

"finally!"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — gojo.

the both of you had arrived, bright-eyed and tired, as he clambered off the tall bus that had parked on the outskirts of tokyo, where jujutsu high was located.

gojo stood beside you, hands stuffed in his denim pockets, plastering a disinterested expression on his face. but he couldn't help how his eyes flittered to the sid,e underneath the dark shades of his glasses, watching you fawn over another new student, another boy who had arrived from some small town, who-knows-where, from a non-sorcerer family.

geto suguru.

well it was no lie that gojo liked him a lot too. there was no denying that he seemed polite, clever, maybe a bit shy. and effortlessly cool.

gojo had grown up in the stifling, grand estates of the big clans, constantly fussed over, and robed in fine silks printed with his clan motifs. all of those stuffy rules would sit, push around and make space in one's head, like a constant mantra from the elders.

he didn't need to look at you too closely to see what was going on, and he could tell right away, just from how you reacted. your smile stretched wider, and your eyes lit up like you were meeting someone who you really wanted to talk to.

geto who hadn't even changed into his uniform yet, with his stray strands of dark hair falling out of the knot on the back of his head, looking politely aloof, but cheerful, in worn black jeans and converse, and some baggy band t-shirt that would get gojo scolded by his mother for even wearing that inside the estate.

gojo noticed everything, especially the way your fingers slipped up to tuck your hair behind your ear when geto grinned at you (all because you’d recognised the band on his t-shirt, so what?) he saw how your eyes brightened, like geto suguru had unlocked some hidden code only you could decipher.

it annoyed him to realise that geto's calm, quiet charm was exactly the kind of thing you’d be drawn to. that’s what you liked, wasn’t it? the understated, thoughtful types who let the world come to them. not the loudmouth who cracked jokes at every opportunity, hoping to pull a laugh from his best friend.

well, fuck, he had to be a part of this too now.

✉️ — 2005. 💬 — both.

gojo's new obsession had a sleek, silver body and an olympus logo stamped on it in black, a camera that he'd been itching to buy; refusing to settle for anything less than the latest model. suddenly, he was determined to capture tokyo through his own eyes, and you and your friends had quickly become his reluctant muses on an impromptu day trip to the ameya-yokocho market.

"stop! stay right there, don't move! fuck, no! a little to the left!"

he waved his hands around, motioning for everyone to gather just as he wanted. you all exchanged amused glances, with shoko huffing around dramatically, as gojo crouched down on his long legs, then stood back up, and then crouched down again, as one of jujutsu high's most powerful sorcerers struggled to bring a camera into focus.

eventually, geto had laughed — raven hair falling over his beautiful face, and had gotten up to help gojo, fiddling with the lens as the rest of you milled around.

and then, suddenly gojo turned the camera directly on you. he pointed his finger your way, wide grin half-hidden but unmistakably earnest, 'c'mon, turn that frown upside down!'

he needn't have said a word, just seeing your best friend there, with his hair tousled and carefree grin, with the camera strap hanging off his neck, was enough to make you laugh, the kind that felt as bright as it sounded.

and so, you found yourself standing in the middle of the bustling market street, surrounded by friends and fellow students, and the lively hum of the weekend crowds, as you looked directly into the lens, with your smile softening under his gaze, as though the rest of the world had blurred into the background.

afterwards, gojo had taken a good look at the photo, and he didn't say much, but the look on his face lingered, almost like he was seeing something that he wasn't sure he was allowed to hold onto. you had shyly asked him later, coming up beside his shoulder, whether he had printed a spare copy of the photo, but he shook his head with the lie rolling off his tongue.

love was a selfish endeavour, to its core. he wasn’t about to tell you that he wanted to keep that photo for himself. and later, when no-one was looking, he slipped the small print into his wallet, right between his train pass and some spare change.

✉️ — 2006. 💬 — you.

your best friend, your dear satoru, had always been resilient; the kind of guy who threw himself at life with reckless energy, shrugging off injuries like they were just a part of the ride. he'd laugh off a scraped knee or a bloodied lip, flashing that cocky grin and a shrug as if pain was something for other people.

life for you went on, with your own routines and small moments. you learnt long ago that you didn't quite possess the natural, raw sheer jujutsu power that gojo had (or geto for that matter) but you could certainly hold your own in a scuffle. regardless, you had chosen to turn to academics, flitting between classes and study sessions, arm in arm with sweet shoko.

there was joy in sneaking off campus with friends, or scrolling through lists of new albums to download onto your mp3 player (you had been partial to the south korean boyband, tvxq!).

and so, life seemed both incredibly mundane and slightly electric, with days marked by shy smiles and inside jokes, with walks home on the streets wet from the spring rain.

but it had been late summer when gojo had returned from that last mission, when the days were still long and hot and the afternoons were bathed in a thick, heavy amber. and he had come back...different.

he moved carefully, as though each step was suspicious and took more effort than he'd let on, and his usual bright glimmer was dimmed, his laughter quiet, and his smiles withheld like a rare currency. he'd sit through the long evenings with you, in silence more often than not, hands stuffed into his wide pockets as he stared at a place that you just couldn't reach.

when you'd catch him alone in the courtyard after class, he'd be training hard, working through his cursed techniques with a relentless focus, perfecting each hand gesture as if he could shake off whatever shadow lingered behind him. and sometimes, he'd stay for hours after school, practicing beneath the dying and dusty light of the last days of summer, as if he could not afford to stop, to rest.

“gojo?” you called, hesitating as he finished a strike to some poor unsuspecting pile of soda cans, leaving them obliterated in the heat. “what's going on with you?”

he paused mid-motion, glancing at you, his face carefully blank. and you hated that, you hated how the flicker of distress would pass from his face before being schooled into that carefully constructed mask of 'the strongest.'

i love you, idiot. i love you, i love you, tell me what's bothering you and i will help, you're my best friend.

but these words never saw the light of day, always curling up and choking up in your throat, and instead being twisted into feigned, casual interest. losing the cloak of deep devotion that you held for a friend of ten years.

"oh - hey! nothing," gojo replied, too quickly, with that half-cocked smile that painted over his pink lips, "nothing that deep."

lately, this repeated lie had been hanging in the air between you, clear as the last streaks of summer sunlight that would soon give way to fall.

you crossed your arms over your uniform, dark fabric crinkling, "you're not fooling anyone, you know. geto told me about the mission, he said that you —," you swallowed, with the words just as heavy as the steadfast beat of your heart that you kept under lock and key, "he said you shouldn't have come back. what does that even mean?"

gojo's face flickered again, just for a second, before he barked out that irritating, false chuckle, "guess it's a good thing you weren't sent on tengen's fuckin' mission then," before reaching out and snatching your strawberry milk carton from your hands with a grin.

after a few punctuated slurps and lip-smacking (just to watch your face redden in fury, gojo would admit) he spoke again, voice strained, "you'd probably be crying about it still."

"hey!" you protested, grabbing for the carton again, prying his slender fingers off your sweet treat, "i don't cry that easily."

"could've fooled me. you cried during that american movie about zoo animals."

"madagascar was a sad movie about displacement and the loss of home! i know animal rights activists hate to see your ass coming to the zoo."

gojo snickered, drawing out the words, "fuck that zebra," but now, he was looking off into the golden haze of a beautiful sunset, with that frayed grin, "seriously, though. it's fine, it's all in the past."

over time, gojo never spoke many a word about what happened to the star plasma vessel, but he just seemed to move forward, like he always had. his resolve somehow sharper, tighter, and his laughter more intense when it finally did return. there were moments when you'd catch him staring into the great expanse of nothing, haunted (but beautiful), though he'd just shrug and smile when you prodded him about.

✉️ — 2007. 💬 — gojo.

gojo thought he was astoundingly self-aware, in his own humble opinion. he never let anything get to him, that was the trick, you see. to take life as it came at you, to carry that fire and stubbornness and throw it back in the face of the trouble.

and so he wanted to be angry, to be furious. why had suguru done this? why?

he had known that geto, one of his dearest friends (one who always been so sure of himself) had fallen into disquiet lately, and even gojo had prodded him on whether he had lost weight through sleepless nights. but suguru would have just turned his head back to his book, lost in thought, with his dark hair loose around his face.

had he been blind? how had suguru's silence been covered by what gojo (privately) considered his own loud, defiant return? no, he knew of ghosts. he knew that some spirits and spectres could not be shaken, and sometimes when gojo himself closed his eyes, he could feel the sharp sting of an assassin's blade ramming through his throat, leaving him for dead.

but to murder over a hundred innocent people...

you had found him alone that evening, where he had sprawled over the stairs as the sunset blazed, painting them aglow in dusky hues. but gojo could barely notice any of this beauty, and so he just stared, lost in his thoughts that wouldn't settle.

(are you the strongest because you're satoru gojo? or are you satoru gojo because you're the strongest?)

he didn't hear you approach, until you placed a gentle hand on his shoulders, causing him to flinch, surprised out of his sorrowful reverie.

the warmth of your touch steadied him, and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and he wondered how you could always seem to know exactly when he needed you most.

but the thought twisted, sharp and bitter, for what if you would follow suguru the same way? had you not often looked at geto with light in your eyes? and you had never looked at him like that.

what if, someday, you left him the same way? what if you turned around and saw someone else worth following? he couldn't help his fists from clenching, tension rippling down his shoulders and painfully gripping his head.

"suguru..." his voice came out quieter than he meant, with a crack that he couldn't quite hide, and he heard you sharply inhale, "i can't believe he's gone. i don't know if...if i'll ever see him again. why would he -?"

you still didn't say anything, just tightening your hand on his shoulder. and satoru hated it. hated that he wanted to lean into the weight of your touch, hated that this is what being the strongest now entailed. that now he was plagued by fear, of losing you, of watching you slip through his fingers into another's orbit.

i'm only seventeen. what happened to my youth?

the thoughts are acidic, cynical and they leave him angry (with the world, with the higher ups, with himself, with his parents) and he can't help himself from blurting out the next question.

"did you like him?"

gojo tries to keep his tone light and casual, but he loathes how he sounds pleading, heavier. he feels the embarrassment of vulnerability shroud him as you meet his eyes, and he hates how your eyes are teary too.

you shouldn't cry. ever.

"like? as in like?"

"as in love," gojo mutters, "shoko said you did."

you sniff, and now your head is leaning on his shoulder and he can inhale the scent of your shampoo (apples? caramel?) and despite the crick in his neck, he lowers his shoulder further down so you are more comfortable.

"shoko talks too much sometimes," you laugh weakly, "but probably. i think i did."

gojo tries to tamper down the acrid lurch in his stomach, but you continue, "i think i did love him. but so did shoko. so did nanami, and haibara back when, -" you sigh, "and so did you. we all loved him. he was our friend."

his fingers had been hovering close to your hand for a while, almost as if he couldn't help himself, the pull. finally, he slid his smallest finger to let it curl around yours, drawing out a memory from over a decade ago.

"tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?" "promise?" "why not?"

how silly that the hardest things in life had once been a bored child, and his new friend who fretted about her future wardrobe.

and when you clasped in hand entirely in its return, gojo's breath caught, his throat tightening. the words that he wanted to say, to spill from his throat, hovered in his mind but there was no infinite word strong enough to bring them out.

he wasn't an idiot, he wasn't daft and unobservant, he knew exactly what he wanted to say to you, to tell you from his lips to yours. but the way his heart laid itself bare in that moment unsettled him deeply, not the yearning itself, but how fierce it was. it disgusted him, the rawness of his desire, exposed right there in the open, where anyone could see it, including you. especially you.

with a realisation that was long coming, beneath the golden wash of the setting sun, he sighed deeply. if he ever lost you, if you ever looked at him with the same betrayal that he'd seen in suguru's eyes, he didn't know if he could survive it. it would cut deeper than his infinity could bear.

he tried speaking again, "if you ever -" but he doesn't get the chance to speak before you're leaning further into him, a quiet sniffle punctuating the silence.

"i won't."

✉️ — the next decade... 💬 — you.

"sweetheart, honey, my precious pumpkin pie."

you shot gojo a death glare, his attempt at flamboyant charm bouncing right off you, "i hate you. never speak to me again."

and your gaze dropped to what was left of your beautiful hermès scarf, once a beautiful concoction of cream-white silk, now reduced to tatters that fluttered pitifully in your hands, stained with some suspicious green goop.

you had cherished this pricey product, but gojo, in his infinite wisdom had decided to pick it up as a perfect blindfold right before a gnarly mission. and so, it got tangled with a nasty curse, and met its tragic, shredded end.

gojo raised his brows, feigning the innocence of a cherub, blinking his long lashes, "i'm sorry, i'll get you a new one, baby."

he drew out the pet name with exaggerated gusto that made you snarl, "enough with the pet names. you are a grown ass man."

and you gave him a first shove in the ribs that made the strongest sorcerer in the world stagger dramatically, only to catch himself with that easy grin still plastered on his face.

but before you could storm off and mourn whatever was left of your one-million yen possession, gojo darted in front of you, blocking your path with his ridiculously long arms. "come on, let me make it up to you, what if i had died on that mission?" he pleaded, looking at you with mock sincerity.

"i wouldn't have even come to the funeral," you sniffed, sticking your nose in the air, ignoring the fake choking sounds that came from the man as he clutched his chest.

months had turned into years, where you and gojo had grown up and graduated jujutsu tech together, carrying triumphs (you won valedictorian, out of a grand total of eight students), losses (gojo was a notoriously bad driver and almost crashed the car that the two of you were in) and countless moments in between.

the two of you had returned to your alma mater as teachers, and mentors, guiding younger sorcerers who were much like you'd once been; eager, impatient, and a little rough around the edges.

gojo took to teaching like he did most things, with his own reckless charm and devil-may-care attitude. he'd joke about skipping staff meetings, but he'd be there anyway, leaning back in his chair with his legs sprawled underneath him, mouthing snarky comments that only you could hear.

you'd like to think you'd grown more confident, no longer the uncertain teenager who used to glance at herself twice in the mirror. time had given you the chance to learn your strengths, and exorcising curses had left you all the more enduring.

gojo had noticed, though he'd never say it outright. he'd make some teasing comment about the way you would boss around a room, and you'd roll your eyes as you nudged him telling him that you had learnt from the biggest ego in tokyo. but sometimes, he'd watch you a little longer than he should, with that flicker in his gaze that he thought you hadn't noticed.

some things hadn't changed at all, and he still came back to you after every mission, every right. you'd hear him shuffling in from down the hall, his paper bags of desserts swinging as he tried to balance it along with his jacket, and whatever ridiculous trinket he'd picked up for you that week (you kept every single one).

and there the two of you would be, sitting cross-legged on your apartment floor, sharing sweets straight out of the boxes. he'd pass you a slice of cheesecake that he insisted that you simply must try, nudging your hand until your fingers enveloped his.

wouldn't it be a lie to claim that you didn't bask in the warmth of your best friend's gaze, even as he feigned interest in some story that he had overhead from the students on his way over from the school, with his low laughter filling the quiet around you.

sometimes, in the silence that would fall after the conversation ebbed, he’d reach over and trace circles absentmindedly on the back of your hand with his thumb, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. neither of you would move or speak. gojo would be looking anywhere but at you, yet his hand wouldn’t let go, tethering you to him in a way that made the apartment feel smaller — almost as if you’d already crossed some line neither of you dared to talk about.

what a pain to be haunted by someone who was already living and breathing right in front of you. sometimes, it left you nauseous, ill, and even screaming into your pillow after he left, and dialing shoko's number so she could give you an earful.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

your car idled at the curb, the sounds of the city filtering in through the barely open window, with the faint chill of the october night brushing against your skin.

gojo looked up from his phone, tapping his fingers on the screen, and there was a sober look on his face that made your stomach twist. you watched as he ran his head through his white hair, and sighed, his eyes still on the screen.

"apparently i was summoned by name," he said quietly, "to shibuya. whatever curtain's been set up is only allowing sorcerers through."

you kept one hand on the wheel, "ijichi reached out to me too, but he wants me covering the perimeter on the other side, away from the metro. but who would summon you by name?"

"i know. do you think it's...?"

"the traitor everyone's guessing about? who else?"

gojo scoffed a little, "fuckin' surprise," he muttered, casting you a glance that spoke volumes of protectiveness, one that made you lurch ever so slightly. his eyes met yours, an unspoken worry passing between you. you bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from blurting out the words that lived in the forefront of your mind.

and so, gojo reached for the door handle, and you saw him hesitate as his fingers drummed against the door, before pulling his blindfold up, "well, stay safe, yeah?"

you swallowed, trying to find some false platitude to offer back, "hey, i will if you will."

he gave a short laugh that must have not fully reached his eyes, but it softened the rest of his beautiful face in that way that you loved, "y'know, we could have been going trick-or-treating. dressed like idiots, stuffing our face with candy."

"tweedledee and tweedledum?"

gojo snorted, "next year then."

you hummed, "i'll keep that idea then, tweedledumb."

the bow of his lips quirked, and he looked away again before pushing himself out of the car, stepping out onto the suddenly cold, quiet sidewalk (too quiet, where was everyone?)

he paused, turning back to you through the window, as he lifted his hand up in a small wave, and you could tell he wanted to say something else — but the moment passed, and he closed his mouth, smiling instead in that way of his that said everything without a single word. and he pushed his hands back into his pocket, strolling away as you sat there, suddenly ever so lonely in your silent car, as chills went down your spine.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

"gojo satoru has been sealed."

what the fuck?

the world has slowed down, every sound muffled as if you'd been submerged underwater. shibuya had left gojo sealed in the prison realm by...no. it couldn't be.

suguru geto was dead. dead, executed. had it not been almost a year? you had mourned, gojo had grieved. and yet, the impossible had clawed its way into reality, leaving you feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something dark and unknowable.

soon the shock twisted into dread, an icy grip that clenched tight around your chest, left the blood draining from your face. god, your hair must just turn as white as his from the stress alone. your best friend, the one who had been beside you in sickness and health.

it was cruel, you thought, to not even be allowed the time to fall apart, now now. there was little space for it in the chaos that had erupted the next day, when waves of curses crashed through the city like nothing you had ever seen. what fresh hell was this, you wondered as you nursed a nasty set of wounds, trailing after (tormented, sweet, far too young) itadori yuji, and his supposed older brother, some blood manipulation user that had done his fair share of damage throughout the night.

the culling games.

the brutality of it shocked you, and several times during the upcoming days, you had to blink back hot tears as sorcerers were summoned, drafted, and thrown into what was quickly a gladiator spectacle, some devilry concocted from geto's, no, kenjaku's mind. and the stakes were not just your own survival, but the students you had mentored — the young souls who had grown under your watch, and needed you now more than ever.

it quickly cost you an eye. a clash with a fierce, blood-thirsty wayward sorcerer had left you bloody and bruised with a clean gash that ran through your right eye, and you had screamed, taken a life even. only the baritone, dulcet tone of the yuji's half-curse brother (choso? a member of the kamo clan? since when did half-curses even exist?) had pulled you away from launching the contents of your stomach over the pavement, as you stared at the crimson dripping off your hands. were you supposed to be grateful that you had survived this, when so many others had not? yuji's tears had kept you awake in the night, his sobs when he thought that no-one could hear him.

gojo's absence had become a wound, raw, with a side of constant ache that you could feel with every waking heartbeat. and so you tried to fight hard with his voice echoing in your ears, remembering the half-smile he'd flash when you'd land a difficult hit, or the grateful look in his eyes knowing that his students were safe.

days blurred together, and nights bled into ceaseless combat, of the terror of being on the run, and still gojo was with you. the thought of finding him, the thought of him being unsealed from the prison realm almost had you blurting false, desparate promises to the sky that you would tell him exactly what you felt for him, bare your heart out in its entirety for him to hold in his hands.

like it had always been.

✉️ — november, 2018 💬 — you.

it was surreal seeing him again, unsealed and standing there against the burnt umber of the sky, rough around the edges but undeniably gojo. nineteen days of living with the ache of his absence, of waking every morning with a hollow flower blooming in your chest, he was here — alive, breathing, real.

but god, it had been so beautiful to meet his blue gaze once more, and that fleeting smile cross his face before he rushed to pull you into his arms, closing the distance and pulling you into his arms with a new strength that almost lifted you off your feet. and if you closed your eye, you could pretend that nothing had happened, nothing at all. that it was just you pressed against the warm, beating heart in gojo's chest, unrestrained and fierce as thick arms pulled you close, filling your senses with smoke, and earth, and long-spilt blood.

"don't you look eye catching?"

you huffed and leaned away from him, slamming your fist on hard muscle in exasperation, but if you hadn't turned your gaze away, you would have seen gojo's eyes twitch as he took in your battle-worn appearance, the scar that ran underneath bandages where an eye would have once been. if you had paid more attention, you would have heard his intake of breath as he ran his tongue behind his teeth, with a vow, a promise.

"guess who's going to kick sukuna's ass so far back to the heian era," gojo murmured, and you let out a shaky laugh that echoes all the way down to the marrows of your bones.

"yeah, i thought you were just all talk."

"i'm still alive, aren't i?" he shot back, cocky and boyish once more, and your eyes traced over him, drinking in every small change, the sharper clench in his jaw, the tautness in his frame, the way his shoulders seemed broader, like he had been carved up in the prison realm anew. and it leaves you melancholic.

in another universe, the two of you were still young, hand in hand underneath the blue sky as the cool breeze ran through your hair. but battles had turned to war, and the night had no time for what ifs.

"hey, don't go worrying about me," gojo murmured, almost as though he had caught the shadow in your heart, and he plastered a grin on his face, stretching his toned arms in some show of nonchalance, but his gaze lingered on the ruins too long, on the mottled group of assembled sorcerers who seemed to brim with new-found confidence at his return.

and when he finally looked back at you with a new dullness in your eyes, a heaviness you hadn't seen in a long time. it left a dead weight in your chest, but you forced yourself to return his own bland smile, playing along with the front he was trying to maintain, "well, i guess i'll have to keep you out of trouble from now on."

✉️ — november-december, 2018 💬 — you.

the month began to stretch and pass in a blur on the endless horizon, complete with the aching and unbearable waiting where you knew something was going to happen, and yet you did not know when and where. shoko had forgone her own exhausation to see to the rest of the wounds, the ones that had festered under bandages and grimes, leaving faint trails over your skin but she had shaken her head sadly when it came to the socket on your face, even she could not restore an eye.

gojo had swapped his suits and jackets for loose martial pants, and a tight black top that had clung to the muscular frame that he'd honed over the years, laughing off your concerns like they were nothing more than passing clouds.

"don't fret," he'd say, "how bad could this be? you know i told yuji once that even if sukuna was at his full power, i'd still wipe the floor with him. you believe me right?"

you weren't sure if his question was cocky, or a plea, and the fatigue had caused you to snap, "and now, yuji flinches when he hears loud sounds, and he's just another kid who can't fuckin' stop wringing his hands in blood! look what you've done to him!"

gojo's eyes had twitched afterwards, the corner of his mouth pulling down, but he hadn't gotten angry. and you hated it. you hated it all.

but you had wanted to believe in him, in his optimism. you wanted to let his smooth words settle into your bones like the warm comfort they should have been. but how could you feel at ease when everyone was now playing a role? each sorcerer in this building was feigning whatever mask or persona that they had painted and drawn across their face, just as you had. just as gojo did.

but nothing was the same anymore.

and neither were you.

the loss of your eye, the streaks of scars on your skin haunted you. it felt cowardly to say, but this was not the life you should have lived. you simply just didn't see yourself as strong enough, and your eyes watered thinking about the days when you dallied under a clear sky, skirts swaying along the grass as you trailed after your best friend, catching fireflies, exploring shrines, falling to the earth in child-like innocence.

the hollow space on your face, the empty socket served as a reminder of what you had survived, of the world that had fallen into pieces. was there anyone here who would recognise themselves in the mirror anymore?

some nights, the world felt impossibly still, and you would sit at the window and press your hands to the cold of the glass as you watched a scarred city sprawl ahead of you.

you didn't turn at the sound of footsteps at first, and you sat there, with your fingers still dancing on the edge of the window. you closed your eyes as you felt him approach, close, but not enough — you wished he would sit by you, press his soft head to your own, close enough for you to hold him in your hands, curl into his skin.

"satoru, can you make another promise?"

gojo's steps had paused, just a breath but it was enough to know that you had his attention. but when he spoke, "please tell me we're not doing theatrics right now," his voice was laced with that same dismissive edge that he always used when he was trying to push the truth far away.

"can't you shut up, just once? promise me you won't let sukuna kill you, i can't even imagine -" and how irritating, and how melancholic (fuck, this was like a bad soap opera) that your throat was already tightening, your voice wavering with tears that you had been holding back for weeks.

for a moment, gojo didn't respond, and he just stood there and you needn't have turned around to know that there was no trace of laughter nor joy on his face. no easy smirk to deflect the gravity of your well-founded fears. and the silence left you cold.

for the first time, you were suddenly hoping that he might say something blasé, to tell you to stop worrying, to brush it off and just reassure you. but he didn't, he was quiet.

and so you turned to face him, and you felt almost villainous for verbalising your future grief like this, to one who must already have carried such an eternal, heavy burden.

no longer did the blue of his eyes shine like a spring sky, with feather-like clouds that danced in his iris. now, there was only a fractured storm. and god, you loathed that for the first time in what must have been years, his own face was reddening, his eyes suddenly teary, clouds gathering torrential rain.

you knew he hated being seen like this. over a decade of holding him close to your heart had made you privy to his ways, to the way that he'd furiously rub at his face when upset, as if he could will the distress away and hide his tears.

gojo had outstretched his little finger towards you now, hooking it with your own, and your heart stuttered as he brought your finger to his lips, so quick that a ghost may have brushed your skin, with the seal of a promise.

"i will try. god, i swear, i...i promise, i will try." and you knew that gojo satoru was scared, terrified even of what december 24th would bring.

"i -"

you wanted to say it all, wanted to tell him everything. but the words stuck in your throat, love and want and need and ferocious, capricious grief all sat lodged within your beating heart that was so tightly bound in iron chains.

it was a shameful thing. you should have sat there, and comforted him instead. should have told him that it was alright, and you did not know a more powerful and capable sorcerer than he, that he'd leave sukuna in ashes. should have laid your hand on his brow to soothe the lines away from his pale, streaked face.

but you had always been selfish, held onto your heart like a being of folklore, guarded and self-assuming. you wept heart-aching tears, feeling them pool in your sleeves, and run hot salt trails over your lips. maybe it was a testament to how much gojo satoru loved you too, that he could not bear to see you in such grief, and he hesitated.

then he turned to leave you by the window.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

the turn of the year felt cold, far too chilly, even though the night was still young. the city lights twinkled in solitary clumps outside, but they were just as dim as the heavy weight in your chest. the walls seemed to close in as gojo prepared to leave, to face sukuna — the king of curses. and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was slipping through your fingers, something that you would never be able to grasp again, no matter how tightly you gripped.

everyone had wished him luck, calling your their bravest words of encouragement as he walked past them, their voices echoing through the hall, as they slapped him on the back.

they all cheered the same platitudes.

"go fuck sukuna up!"

"language!"

"sorry, choso."

"show him what you're made of!"

"prove that you're not just a pretty face, gojo!"

and so you had plastered the same smile on your face, hoping that it would reach your eyes as gojo winked at you, "hey, before you start telling me off, now it's your turn to promise me something."

you had cocked your head up at him, ignoring shoko's narrowed, tired eyes, "yeah?"

"mhm," satoru nodded, pulling his arms around you, "after this, after all this bullshit, we get to take a vacation."

a barked laugh escaped you, before it collapsed into a giggle, "you want paid leave? that's all it is?"

your best friend's large hands gripped you, flat against your back, "yeah, that's all there is. we're gonna go take a holiday, sit by the beach, watch the ocean. keep it simple."

"a picnic too, eh?"

gojo nodded, humming, "we'll plan everything. about time we got to take a break. i'll be back before you even know it."

you felt his voice hitch against your ear, and your heart twisted painfully in response, he wasn't saying it but you both knew the cold truth, there was a real chance that he may never come back. before your vision could blur, you pressed his lips to his cheek, letting them linger for a moment on smooth skin (and you felt his arms tighten around you) and hoped that whatever you hoped to say, whatever spine you lacked, could be expressed so swiftly.

"come back then, please. i'll be ready." you whispered between his skin and your lips, the tremble leaving no space for air in your lungs.

for a moment, he didn't answer, just held you, and you tried to focus on the feeling of his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. then, just as you were about to pull away, he spoke, the words falling from his mouth, so familiar and so effortless.

"of course i will. i always do."

there was a flicker of something raw there in his eyes, and you had seen it both before and after shibuya. his lips parted as if he were about to say something, but whatever it was, it never came. instead, he just nodded, a silent promise — unspoken, but felt deep in your bones.

without another word, he turned toward the door. and just before stepping out, he looked back one last time. that smile, that arrogant, confident smile that always made your heart race —i t was there, but it wasn’t the same. it was stretched thin, fragile. his blue eyes were tired, haunted, and for a moment, you saw the truth — the part of him he always kept hidden. the fear. the doubt.

"i'll be back," he repeated, but this time, it didn’t sound like a joke. it sounded like a prayer. a desperate, half-broken promise from the closest thing that the world had to a god.

you couldn’t speak. your heart was lodged in your throat, and the words that you needed to say just wouldn’t come. you wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you always had, that you were scared to lose him, that the world without him in it felt like a hollow echo of what it could be. but you couldn’t.

instead, you just nodded, your face a mask of emotions you couldn’t express.

and then, with one final look, a look that held everything neither of you had the courage to say — he stepped out into the cold, his footsteps fading into the distance.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

gojo satoru was dead.

dead. killed.

for a moment, you stood frozen in the doorway of shoko's office, numbness seeping into your bones with a furious grief as you stared at the cold, unmoving form that was once satoru.

fuck, there was bile in your throat as a once lively boy now lay in four pieces, cleanly sliced by sukuna's unforgiving technique, and the sight was a nightmare made so real, something that you just couldn't reconcile with the man who had once been so vibrantly alive.

the warmth that had always clung to him had vanished, leaving his skin pale in the grasp of rigor mortis, and his lips were still flecked with dried blood that had painted a stark contrast against his stiff skin.

and his eyes, those striking blue eyes that used to glint with love and hope and dreams, were now dull, and still open. you had not the heart to close them, for once your hand pulled his eyelids down, you would never see them again, never look into his eyes until it was your time to pass from the circles of the world.

the last thing you’d seen of him had been that cocky grin, that wink that seemed so unbreakable, that laugh that lingered even as he left your embrace. he’d held you, promised you that he would come back, but now, as you stood there, that promise felt like a cruel lie, something that should’ve warned you but instead gave you nothing but hope.

you choked on a breath, your hand coming up to your mouth as you felt the weight of your unspoken words sink down like lead. i should have told him. you’d wanted to say it all, to let him know how much he meant to you, to tell him that he was your everything. but the words had died in your throat, held back by fear, by the delusion that there’d always be another chance, that he’d always come back.

you’d believed him. you’d believed, with every part of yourself, that he’d make it out alive.

but here he was, torn apart, the last shreds of life stolen from him by the king of curses. you had seen him being cut down, like a sheaf of wheat under a god's sickle, how sudden and gut wrenching it had been, and for the second time in a month, you had been on the edge of hurling onto the stone. but this time, the half-curse beside you, choso, hadn't stopped you from losing the contents of your stomach, as instead he had pressed his younger brother's cries to his broad chest, the grief swallowing the entire room.

gojo hadn’t been given the chance to fight back, hadn’t even been able to draw a breath before he’d been torn apart. and that final thought — that he’d been caught off guard, helpless, alone in his last moments — left you feeling shattered, grief clawing at you with merciless hands.

your knees felt weak as you moved toward him, your trembling fingers reaching out to touch his face, cold and unyielding beneath your hand. you traced the lines of his face, memorising every detail, as if somehow, through touch alone, you could keep a piece of him with you. a tear slipped down your cheek, landing on his lips, lips that had once murmured promises, had brushed against your skin in fleeting, unspoken moments. the tear brought moisture once more to the blood that splattered his face, but quickly, it disappeared, drying and taking away any life.

"i should’ve told you,” you whispered, your voice broken, raw, laced with the pain of regret, "i don't know if you ever knew how much i loved you."

you closed your eyes, the silence thickening around you, pressing down until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. your mind replayed every smile, every laugh, every word he’d ever spoken to you, each memory twisting the knife of grief deeper into your chest. the emptiness of the room swallowed you whole, and all that was left was the aching, unbearable reality that he was gone — that the man who had been your best friend, your confidant, your everything, was nothing more than a memory now.

you stayed there, your hand resting on his cold cheek, as if the warmth of your touch could somehow reach him, bring him back. but he was gone, and with him, he’d taken the words you’d never been able to say, the love you’d never been able to give.

and as the silence closed in around you, suffocating and absolute, you knew that part of you had died with him.

✉️ — not so long later. 💬 — you. it could only be you now, for you are the only one left.

the sun was beginning to set as you reached the shore, casting an amber glow over the ocean. the waves lapped quietly against the sand, as a gentle roll becoming a reminder that the world was still moving, even when the battles were done.

even though everything within you felt like it had come to a standstill. you clutched a folded piece of glossy card, and a box. two things that shoko said she found on him, things that she thought you should keep, she added quietly.

and so, you sat down on the sand, letting the evening wind sweep over you as you gazed out at the endless stretch of water. the ocean had always been something you had dreamed of seeing together, an endless horizon that was wild and untameable, just like gojo satoru had been. but he was gone, gone, and that promise would forever remain unkept.

you opened the folded glossy card, wincing as you tried not to press the faded creases further, brushing over the faded edges. it was dated to the fall of 2005, and you bit your lip as you saw your own image stare back at you. when the world had felt endless, and you had two wide eyes to see it with. there you were, that day in the market, laughing in the photo with your head thrown back sweetly, and you wetly laughed as you saw geto suguru's confused expression in the background, clearly exasperated with gojo's photography skills.

a choked sob escaped you as you traced your smile in the photo, so oblivious to what would come. you’d been so happy then, wrapped in a moment that had felt simple and whole. gojo had teased you relentlessly that day, snapping photos every chance he got, and you’d thought he was just being his usual, silly self. you’d never realised he’d kept this one one, never knew it meant enough for him to carry it all this time.

with a shaking hand, you opened the box, revealing the ring nestled inside. fuck.

it was beautiful, impossibly beautiful, as if he’d carefully chosen each detail with you in mind. the diamond glistened in the fading light, flecked with small blue stones that reminded you of his eyes, the eyes that used to light up every time he looked at you. this ring was supposed to be a promise, just as the ones you made when you locked little fingers — a promise he never got the chance to make, a life together that you’d both been too afraid to admit you wanted.

the first tear fell, splashing onto the sand below, followed by another, and then another, until you were trembling, the grief tearing out of you in waves, raw and unstoppable. you held the ring to your chest, clutching it as if somehow, by holding it close, you could feel him, hear his laughter, feel the warmth of his arms around you.

you could almost hear his voice on the wind, that playful edge mixed with tenderness as he called you by one of his ridiculous pet names. sweetheart, honey, my pumpkin pie, followed by your irritated huff telling him to drop those names.

but truly, here was nothing. just the sound of the waves, relentless and indifferent, echoing the hollow ache in your chest.

the what-ifs clawed at you, memories replaying over and over in your mind: moments when you’d almost reached for him, almost whispered the words, almost let your heart break free. but each time, you’d held back, too afraid to disrupt the delicate balance between you, too certain there’d be another day. but now, those moments were gone, scattered like dust in the wind, and the weight of those unsaid words felt unbearable.

you pressed the photograph to your lips, closing your eyes as if you could summon him back, if only for a moment. but when you opened your eyes, all that greeted you was the empty horizon, stretching out into nothingness.

"i love you,” you murmured, voice broken, barely more than a whisper. "i love you. i always loved you."

the words hung in the air, unheard, unanswered. it was too late, too late for confessions, too late for promises. the life you’d wanted with him, the life he’d carried in his pocket with a ring and a photograph, was gone, lost to the cruel twist of fate that had taken him from you.

you stayed there on the sand as the sky darkened, the weight of his absence pressing down on you like a storm. the wind whipped around you, cold and biting, and you shivered, clutching his ring, his memory, as if that alone could keep you grounded.

as night fell, the stars began to appear, dotting the sky with fragile points of light, distant and unreachable. and you sat there, letting the grief wash over you, lost in the silent, aching expanse of the ocean and the memories of a love that would remain forever unspoken, forever unfulfilled.

wasn't love the greatest curse of them all?

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo angst #satoru gojo #works #lol ive spent too long on this. will proofread later <3

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bun-z-bakery · 8 days ago

Text

𝐶ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝛭𝑦 𝐿𝘰𝜈𝑒

Paring: Parent!Mammon x Parent!gn!Reader

CW: None

A/N: Hiiii helllooooo!! I finally got around to writing for my other best boy! this one is a cute lil holiday inspired one! Also rip obey me :( btw requests are still open but i hope you guys are enjoying what my brain cooks up on a chilly afternoon cause its cold as hell over here! 😭

Obey Me Menu | Works Menu | Ao3

"Treasure don't worry, the kiddos will be fine. I'm great with them!" The demon of greed stood proudly as your children climbed him like a tree. You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at the sight before you. How did you get so lucky? You sigh in defeat before you put on your coat and slip on some warm boots. Mammon who's still being mauled by your children, runs over and places a soft kiss on your lips, one thing that hasn't changed is the way he'd often become flustered at such gestures, either way, he's the avatar of greed after all, who's he to send off his spouse without a reminder of who they're married to?

"I'll be back as fast as I can, Mamms" you affirmed as you placed a gentle kiss on your son and daughter's cheeks, earning a giggle out of them both. "Bye-bye!" your daughter waves at you, and you give her a wave back as you leave for the day. Mammon stands before the door for a few seconds, inspecting the nob as if his life depended on it. Your children did the same, it wasn't until they heard the sound of the door locking and the jingling of keys fading did they break out of their trance.

Mammon smiles and claps his hands as he turns his back towards the door, his voice loud and eager "Alright troops, it's show time!"

You walk around the shopping center and window shop as you pass by each store. By now you have already been to a few, groceries, cleaners, the usual boring stores that seemed more exciting when you were in the devildom. You sigh as the memories come flooding back from your time in literal hell terrifying, exciting, and fascinating all rolled into one.

You take out your phone and decide to send your husband a text, a simple "everything okay?" just to quickly check-in. Once that's sent you put your phone away and walk towards the parking lot, however just as you were going to leave, something caught your eye in one of the shops.

You bite your lip, wondering if you should go in and check it out, surely mammon would worry if you come back later than you said, it wouldn't be his first freakout searching the whole city for you. With a sigh you decided to bite the bullet, you'd be quick, you promise.

"I'm homeeee~!" you sang as you entered your house. "Welcome back treasure! I missed ya!" Suddenly you're engulfed by your husband's embrace as he held you close and tightly. "Sorry, I'm late i-" you paused as you let go of him, you looked around your house to find it cleaner than how it was left. The lighting in the house was cozy, lights were hung on the ceiling, and a sturdy-looking couch fort that seemed just as warm and cozy. Walking closer to it you couldn't help but smile at the work he had put in. The crackling of fire made to turn around, and a video of a fireplace was on the TV which he had moved to the floor. Your lips quivered at how much thought and care he put in.

"D-do ya like it?" Mammon asks shyly as he places a kiss on your cheeks before taking the bags that are still in your hands. "Like it? Oh, Mamms I LOVE it!"

You pepper his face with kisses, and you both giggle like idiots. "Get comfy, hot chocolate is almost done! Kiddos say it's a need." He grumbled the last part, but you could see the corner of his lips curling. He loved to make you and now your children happy. "I'll take this one, I'll be back soon!" you quickly grab the bag and run to your shared room. You exhale with a stupid smile on your face. Placing the bag on the bed, quickly you changed into something comfortable and practical, you felt like you could melt if you had stayed in your coat and fleece pants if you wore them for just a second longer.

Once you're satisfied with your choice of clothing you decide to test your luck to see how much longer you'd have some time to yourself. You take the box out of the bag and neatly wrap it in holiday wrapping paper, you smile, silently hoping Mammon will like your gift.

Your moment of peace however didn't last as long as you'd hoped for, Mammon was already knocking and about to burst down the locked door. "Oi, darlin' open the door!" he pouts from the other side of the door. You can hear the faint thumps of feet running across the wooden floors. Quickly you shuffle your way to the door and open it as you hold the gift behind your back. "Greedy and impatient I see." you joked as you walked past him, hiding his gift in the pockets of your pants. Of course, Mammon follows behind like a lost love-sick puppy, his love for you and your little family was unmatched, ironic to say but you were blessed.

"Well, the hot chocolate is gonna get cold! And yer takin' wayyy too long! I thought somethin' happened." he pouts more. Gently you place a hand to his face and stroke his cheek with your thumb. "About that hot chocolate?" "Treasure whatcha got there?"

Crap… he saw the gift you tried oh so hard to hide. "Mammoney listen," you raise your hands, grinning as you try to speak. "I'm listening" he walks closer to you, making you take a step back. "And I heard that someone is hiding something from the great Mammon!" he shouts as he lunges with grabby hands in an attempt you hold you and tickle the truth out of you. Quickly you dodge his attack. The two of you ran around the house like maniacs, your pleas of mercy and his threats of tickling you to death were loud enough to possibly get some kind of noise complaint from a few houses down.

"Mammon pleaseeee!" you quickly rush towards the fort and carefully take a seat there. Mammon runs towards you however lets out an oof in pain as you kick your feet out which lands on his stomach to stop him from his attack.

"I'll show you if you gimme some hot chocolate please." you pout and flutter your lashes. He clicks his tongue but stifles a giggle as he makes his way to pour you both a cup of hot chocolate. While he's gone, you carefully pull the gift out of your pocket and place it on the empty spot on the couch next to you. Once again you admire the handy work he and your kids managed to accomplish within a few hours. "Your order my dear." mammon jokes in a posh tone as he places your cup on the coaster in front of you and his on the coaster in front of his seat. "Thank you my good sir." you joke back as you pick up your cup to take a sip, you pause, raising a brow at how good it was. Mammon seemingly was a man of many hidden talents and you've seemed to learn more about him after you two got married.

"wow! It's delicious!" your approval of his hot chocolate skills made his eyes sparkle and cheeks flush. "That's g-great to hear, of course, ya like the great Mammons hot chocolate!" you giggle as you roll your eyes. Setting down the cup of hot chocolate you take the gift and present it to him. "This is for my amazing husband who makes my day better." For a second mammon could've sworn you were actively trying to kill him with such words. He eyes you suspiciously and then takes the gift. "Mammon I promise you everything is okay, you really are an amazing husband."

You place your hand on his arm, giving him a small reassuring squeeze. Sometimes he doubts his ability to keep you happy. But you were happy, he made you happy and you did the same for him. That's all that matters.

He opens your gift, his eyes growing wide and his mouth falls again. Carefully he pulled out a gold-toned watch with a black enamel face. The face is surrounded by a bezel set with small rhinestones. The watch looks elegant and screams expensive. Mammon's golden blue eyes teared up, and he turned to you, "H-how did you even afford this?" his lips quivered as you watched you. You take another sip of your hot chocolate and sigh with a smile. "I've been saving up for a while, I'm so glad they finally brought back that model, it screams you!" you tilt your head as you two gaze at each other, Mammon seems like he is about to burst into tears. "Well put it on don't just-"

"Thank you my treasure." he holds you in a tight embrace, and with your free arm you return the hug. You can feel his body slightly shaking. "Mamms I love you so much, you deserve it." "I love you too treasure." he sniffles as he breaks the hug, planting a kiss on your lips, you can taste his salty tears.

"Sorry 'bout the tears… And yer hot chocolate…" he points to the chocolate-covered floor. "ew gross." A small voice coming from behind the fort made you stand and raise a brow, it was your eldest. Mammon grins at your son "Hey kiddo, wanna watch a movie? Call your sister down." with that the little white-haired boy runs upstairs. Mammon couldn't help but stare at the mini version of you, it all still felt like a dream to him.

"Sooo waiter another round of hot chocolate?" you poke his cheek, taking him out of his daze. He pulls you back onto the couch and into a warm and cozy cuddle, you love every moment of it. You used your magic to clean the spill, a nifty spell Solomon had taught you for little things like this. But still, you wanted your hot chocolate.

"Let's have another." Mammon says in barely a whisper, "Well yeah I'm waiting for another round." You giggle at him, and he turns his flushed face.

"I didn't mean the hot chocolate…"

"…" You stare at him blankly.

"I just wanted hot chocolate."

As the night went on and the movie now coming to an end, you and your two little ones were already fast asleep by the time the credits had rolled around. Mammon was just barely keeping his eyes open.

Carefully he carried the kids to their beds, then came back to get you. He smiles as he admires your sleeping figure, the way your face shines under the soft string lights, the way your breathing is soft and gentle, the way your skin has little nicks and scars that tell a story of your time in the human realm he wishes he could've been apart of. He strokes your face with the back of his hand before he carries you up to your bedroom.

Gently he places you down and makes his way to his side of the bed, sleepily you reach out to him, who is he to deny his spouse of his warm embrace?

As sleep begins to take hold of him, he strokes your hair "Thank you fr'everything my treasure." he whispers before sleep finally takes hold of him, drifting off with a smile on his face. Oh, how he loved his treasures.

A/N: One of my favorites to write tbh! I hope you enjoyed your order!☕🐇

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x gn!mc #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x mc #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #obey me fluff #obey me writing #obey me drabble #bun z writes

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abbeym28 · 1 year ago

Text

I Will

Second drabble! This one is more centered around the reader and Megumi's relationship as the reader raises him with Satoru. 1,408 words this time <3 It does end with Gojo getting sealed and there is some angst, and I promise that Gojo is actually in it lol! Again can be read as a stand alone fic or in a series, but how I'm writing them right now there really isn't an order to them.

Megumi snuggled closer into your side. You two were on a blanket looking up at the stars while Satoru was busy picking up Tsumiki from her after school clubs. They had run a little late, and with it being fall, the sun had left the sky and there were more things to look up at.

You know that Megumi really enjoys the night and the stars. He has told you about every other constellation and the history behind them on nights like this before, but tonight, he was just silent.

“What’s on your mind, sweet boy?” Megumi let one of your hands gently comb through the spikes of his hair. He hated when Satoru touched his hair, but he found it easy to trust you and let you mess it up.

“I… I’m really… glad you and Gojo got together. And that you are raising us.” A soft smile spread across your face without you knowing as you pulled him a bit closer.

“Oh Megumi. We are also so glad to have you with us. Have I ever told you that you are my favorite person in the whole world?” There was a small pout on his lips that made his cheeks chubbier as he lifted his head more so he could look at you.

Megumi didn’t ever really share things like this often, and it worried you a bit. Was something wrong? He slightly tugged on your sleeve, and you let him fiddle with it while you waited for him to say something else in response.

“Am I really your favorite person? Like, do you, like, love me more than Gojo? And Tsumiki?” You laughed a bit as you lifted the hand that wasn’t in his hair to his cheek as you stroked it softly. He leaned into your hand a bit, unconsciously. Your heart melted a bit.

Satoru did that too. They were a lot more alike than either of them would ever admit.

“Of course. Don’t tell either of them, but you are. Satoru and Tsumiki have each other, so that means you get to be my little boy.” he giggled slightly as you started pressing small kisses all over his face and when your hands started to gently tickle his sides. “You will always have me on your side, ‘k?” Megumi nodded as a rare look of joy was spread over his normally grumpy face.

“I will be on your side too. When you and Gojo get divorced, I’m going to live with you!” the sparkles in his eyes and smile on his face as he said that made you choke out a disbelieved laugh.

“Divorce? Sweety, we would need to be married first.” he just hummed in agreement as he again began to snuggle in closer to you. He must have been getting cold, so you grabbed your jacket that was laying next to you and set it over him. He curled up a bit more so that way he could get more warmth.

“Okay. Once you guy’s get married, I will take your last name, that way you really are my parent.” Scratch what you said earlier about him being quieter.

And where was he hearing all of this stuff?

“If we do get married, we don't all have to have the same last name. If that is okay with you and your sister, you guys could keep your own last name. And Satoru's clan would be upset if I married and didn't take the Gojo name. But if that is the case, you can’t call Satoru Gojo anymore. Otherwise, it will get confusing.”

Megumi’s eyebrows furrowed at that. Satoru had been trying for a solid year to get Megumi to call him anything other than Gojo (ie- his first name, dad, great protector, strongest one.)

The closest he’s come is the nicknames bitch and idiot.

(You suspect he got that from his school- you don’t like it but Gojo insists that it has a good educational system. You suppose that the only other school option you have is jujutsu high, but even with Megumi’s family lineage and cursed technique you have been doing your best to keep both of the kids away from that life. Besides, Satoru and Shoko both have dirty mouths that sometimes slip in front of the kids.)

“I don’t care for Satoru. I think we should kick him out.” That was a lie, and you both knew that it was. Despite his harsh words, Megumi cared for his “surrogate” dad even though he was still incredibly salty to him.

“I don’t think so. I still love him.” He let out a sigh that suggested he was both too tired and sick of this constant talk of your boyfriend.

The two of you lapsed back into silence.

That was until the front door was heard opening and you heard Satoru’s voice yell out, calling your names.

“Honey, I’m home!” You untangled yourself from Megumi as you both got up to greet the other two at the door.

“Hey.” you took bag the he was holding (Tsumiki’s school bag) as Satoru put Tsumiki on the ground after previously being on his shoulders. She ran into another room, most likely the kitchen, as Satoru got down knees and opened his arms.

You watched as he wiggled his eyebrows towards Megumi, who was standing on the sideline.

Megumi shook his head as a look of fear took over his features.

Satoru’s grin widened as he moved closer, close enough so that way he could sweep his feet off the floor as he pressed a flurry of wet kisses all over his kiss.

This was probably bad. Too much affection would probably stop the poor boy's heart. But soon enough both of their giggles filled up the space as Megumi called out uncle. He took a few seconds to catch his breath and readjust his clothes, but once he composed himself he sent a glare at Satoru.

“This is why I hate you. You are my least favorite person.” he then turned around and stalked off to his room. Satoru turned to you, his smile still very much on his face.

“I guess he’s reaching that age. Do you think it will get any easier once they are teenagers?"

“I do”

His eyes softened as he looked into yours, and one of his arms circled around your waist as he pulled you towards him.

He pulled in for a soft kiss, one that made you feel every gallon of he has for you and your small family of four, along for the future you all had together.

Once he pulled away, he kept his forehead against yours as he swayed back and forth a little.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.” Those whispered words warmed your heart. It seemed like today was a day of sweet confessions.

You didn’t know how this had happened.

You held Megumi close to your chest as you felt his tears sink through your uniform.

Nanami was dead, Nobara’s condition was very unstable, some old curse had taken control of the body of an old friend, and your love had been sealed into a box.

Shibuya had gone wrong in all of the worst ways, in ways that led to you comforting your normally emotionless son as he weeped for a person he had spent his young years scheming against. Tears slipped past your eyes as you pressed a kiss on to the top of his head.

Itadori had eaten a lot of fingers, the Zenin clan had come to an end, Tsumiki was now in the culling games, and Principal Yaga had died at the hands of an unfair sentence.

“He’s the strongest. He’ll get out, right?” Megumi whispered the words, and they were almost too muffled for you to hear, but you heard them anyway.

The way he said sounded so hopeful, just as if he was back to being a boy who was scared by thunderstorms but who knew it would end soon.

“Of course he will, sweet boy. He will always come back to us.”

But even if your words let go of some of the tension from your son's shoulders, you almost found it hard to believe yourself. You didn’t doubt your husband, but this was a whole nother situation you had never thought of or prepared for.

This was not the future you had wanted for your family.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #gojo x reader #megumi x reader fluff #jjk megumi #gojo

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jellyfiishatr · 2 years ago

Note

hey! i saw you had your reqs open and i was wondering if i could get some tooth rotting fluff of pavitr prabhakar x gn!reader? im fully obsessed with him since i saw ATSV and i’ve read through every fic/hc/drabble on this hellsite :,)

a/n : OFCOURSE!!! He's so silly and idk why more ppl won't write abt him (ﾉД`)

(Also sorry I've been gone for a bit!! Little writers block, I'll be getting to other requests shortly (ノ_<、))

☆☆☆

content : tooth rotting fluff / Romance

☆☆☆

In class, he watches as you silently take notes. Admiring the way you lean against the palm of your hand, or the way you softly sigh. He copies your expression with a loving gaze behind it.

When class ends, he slowly gathers his things. Giving you quick glances as you do the same. He wait for you to leave before walking out himself, turning to watch you turn the other way to walk home yourself.

Everyday's like this, admiring you from afar. Whether it'd be in class or when he's out patrolling and happens to pass you by as you're out and about running errands. He's always so giddy afterwards, telling Hobie or His Mayan Auntie about you.

He'd take any chance to work with you in class. Project or a simple errand for the teacher, he'd run up to the front of the class as you stand up. He's always so eager to be by your side even if it was in silence. Though, he will ask if you had notes for a certain class paper he "didn't get to finish." When you'd give him a copy of your notes he'd give you a beaming smile and a "Thank you."

You never knew why he was always so excited to see you, the way he'd perk up at just the sound of your voice as you talked with friends. Or the way you'd laugh at someone's jokes, he was always staring at you and would always smoothly look the other way when you'd catch him.

After moments like those, you'd always find yourself thinking about him. The small smiles he'd give you as he'd pass you by, or the thank you's he'd say when you handed him notes you knew he didn't need. It was adorable and you found it endearing.

☆☆☆

Just like any other day, the last class had ended. The relieving sound of the bell ringing through the quiet halls. Classrooms being emptied, as the once empty halls were flooded by students. Chatter bounced off the walls as people rushed out the building, excited for the weekend.

and just like any other, Pavitr had watched you patiently as you packed your bag. Doing the same as he placed his papers and notebooks carefully in his bag. Your friends waited by you, talking about how you would spend your weekend.

He knew how he'd spend his. With you.

Atleast he'd hoped so, he got the hint you were interested. With the way you started going out of your way to speak to him, the way you'd get so nervous when he'd lean over the desk and help you with work, or the way you would slightly smile when you heard his name be called. He truly thanked his brain for giving him the power of being such an attentive person.

After he heard the sound of giggles and footsteps quickly retreating, he turned to you.

You were nervous and he could tell. You fidgeted with your bag as he sent you a small smile and a small wave.

"Hey," he said. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest.

Yours felt as if it was doing jumping Jack's, "Hey."

It was getting somewhere though and he didn't want it to stop. "Were you planning on doing anything this weekend?"

You shaked your head, thanks to your friends "canceling" their plans because suddenly "they had chores," or had a "really important essay" they need to get to. You wanted to strangle them for putting you in this position.

You felt like a sitting duck, an idiot if you will. I mean, maybe he did like you like your friends told you. Or maybe he didn't and your friends maybe heard his friends wrong.

But something in your gut told you this was right, that for some reason what was going to happen was meant to be.

"No, I'm free this weekend."

He smiled, his heart jumped excitedly as he stood there. "Did you maybe wanna go out and do something? My treat,"

You watched as he nervously chuckled, the sun that peaked through the windows shinging against his skin beautifully. You admired him in this scene for just a moment before giving him your answer.

"Yeah, i'd love that."

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader #spiderverse x reader #pavitr prabhakar #Pavitr #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr x reader #I love him sm #He's so adorable I can't

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itsmewillful · 6 months ago

Text

For Ever, and Ever {PART ONE}

Main Masterlist

Character Masterlist:

(Vox x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5725 (oh gosh, the prologue is gonna have a part two because i get too excited with leading the story on and on...*sobs*)

Outline: (PART ONE of the Prologue to I will Always Find You (IWAFY) This part introduces how Vox (Vincent Holland) and reader met. It includes a little bit of build-up, but most of all, FLUFF and your favourite ROMANCE! Vox and reader are two idiots in love fr.

(You don't need to read IWAFY to understand this story.)

Warning(s): Time-period typical sexism and racism (barely any but I'm still adding it just so you all are aware), bullying, and verbal abuse. Along with: Canon typical violence, language, etcetera. IF ANY OF THESE THINGS TRIGGER YOU, PLEASE DON'T READ. Also, it wasn't proofread, I stayed up too late trying to get this out so errors are possible!

A/N (PLEASE READ!): Reader is 16 in this story, and some things may not be time accurate. I also DO NOT CONDONE or SUPPORT to any kind of bad behaviour shown in this story, and any kind of possible mentioning acceptability of such things WILL BE BLOCKED from my account. Thank you, and I hope you respect this!

A/N 2:Also, don't feel shy to tell me what I can improve on! I love taking some criticism so I can work on my stories. And of course, feel free to share with me what you like most so I can get an idea what you all are looking forward to more.

Story below the cut:

It was the first day of High School.

Yes, High School.

You woke up rather early that morning all giddy and had a small bounce to your step when you descended your stairs after getting ready for school. Your mother and father smiled softly at your anticipation for beginning your next chapter in life, and you, of course, smiled back.

You felt happy all the way until you stepped into the building, and immediately fell victim to them.

Some people would call them the ‘Highschool Pretty Girls.’ You just mentally called them ‘The Rich-Stuck-Up Pricks.’ Because they were literally that–rich and stuck up.

You had felt rather confident that morning in your newly pressed sundress, that was rather expensive for your family’s minimum wage income. You loved it. A lot.

But now you wished you wore something else. All because the Rich Girls at the entrance of the school giggled at you and whispered to one-another not so discreetly about the new ‘fresh-meat’ that they were going to torment.

You held back some tears that were threatening to spill when you heard one of the girls giggling about how your complexion didn’t match your outfit at all, which of course was the needle that broke the camel's back and you began to feel tears fall slowly.

The ‘ring-leader’ of the group noticed your predicament, and began to wiggle her fingers at you in a faux wave, as if she was taunting you to continue crying. You huffed and turned hot on your heels and stomped away from the group.

No need to be crying over stupid brats.

You looked at your timetable, and noticed your first class was advanced literature, which brought your sullen mood up significantly. If there was one thing you loved, it was reading and writing books. I mean–you tried writing books, but you mostly read them. Opening the door to your designated classroom, you noticed that there were already quite a lot of students seated. You looked around to find a place to sit, and noticed that almost all the desks in the far back of the room were already taken. Figures.

You eventually settled for a desk closest to one of the middle-row windows, and smiled when you realised that the view was perfect to zone out to. You began to shift through all your belongings, and pulled out a simple-spiralled notebook and a pencil.

“Hello neighbour!”

You looked up from your notebook and noticed a girl with a dark-skin complexion smiling and waving at you with pearly-white teeth. You smiled weakly back, and attempted a wave. To say you were shy was an understatement.

The girl seemed to notice your quietness, and found that as an opportunity to scoot a bit closer to your desk to introduce herself.

“The name is Carly Burns. I’m new to the area and I’m trying to make friends. What’s your name?” She held her hand out to you, and you shook it gently. You felt your palms get clammy from nerves, and smiled awkwardly when she wiped her hands on her dress.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“‘Tis fine! It’s a collaborative effort. I’m sure my hands were the sweatiert ones. Not gonna lie, it’s really humid here. Most be all the boys.” She snickered.You smiled at her attempt to relieve some of the tension, and you said your name to which she repeated with a smirk.

“Nice name for a nice girl! Can’t wait to get to know ya. Say, are you doin’ anythin’ for lunch?”

You shook your head, and her smile seemed to get bigger.

“Great! My sister, her boyfriend and her boyfriend’s brother are all gonna be there. Which will be great for you since you seem to be a wee bit shy.”

“That’s a mouthful. Also, who is to say that I won’t shrink away when they try talking to me?” you asked meekly. Carly’s charming laugh rang in your ears, before she waved you off as if you said something ridiculous.

“I doubt it. You seem to handle me just fine. And I’m the most talkative.”

You nodded your head, and looked back up towards the front of the classroom when your teacher entered the room.

+++

“Yoohoo! Over here!”

You turned your head to your side and noticed your newly acquainted desk-buddy, Carly, and a couple of other teens you didn’t recognise. You smiled shyly and began to tread the short distance to their table.

“Hey, how was your third period?” you asked, mostly directed to Carly. She smirked, and held her hands up to give you a thumbs-up, to which you nodded.

“So, I already unofficially introduced you to my friends, but you are yet to know them!” She pointed to a girl that was sitting gracefully beside her. You knew that was Carly’s sister from noticing how similar their smiles were. It looked very mischievous.

“This is my twin sister, Ava.” She then pointed to a boy sitting across from her, and you learned that his name was Troy, and the lucky boyfriend of Ava. The last person to be introduced seemed to be too busy scribbling away in a notebook to care of your presence.

“And this wonderful fellow is Vincent. Who seems to be too preoccupied with writing ‘fanfiction’ to care about meeting you.”

As soon as the word ‘fanfiction’ fell from Carly’s lips, the teen immediately looked up from his book and glared at her.

“For the record, Miss Burns, it isn’t fanfiction. You wound me. It is my own, and completely original script.”

“Oh you’re right. Maybe an ‘adaptation’ to your favourite movie then. Anyway, don’t be a prude and ignore our new comrade. C’mon now, say ‘hello’ to her, Vinny.” Carly said, examining her nails as if she didn’t care for this ‘Vincent’s’ lame cover-up. (He actually was writing a fanfiction of his favourite murder-mystery by the way.)

Vincent rolled his eyes before he slammed his book shut and looked up to make eye-contact with you. His sapphire blue eyes seemed to pierce yours, and you felt tempted to look away to break his uncomfortable gaze. To say he was handsome was an understatement. This man was drop-dead gorgeous. Curly dark hair that framed his face perfectly, and he seemed to have a slight obsession with the colour blue since his outfit mostly consisted of the shade.

But, he's also kinda–scary? His eyes seemed to hold some sort of pent-up anger. Whether it was directed to you or not, you were hoping he wouldn’t lash out at you.

“Hey! I’m Vincent. What’s your name?” He said, rather too casually for a guy that looked ready to find the nearest wall and beat it up.

You awkwardly stared at him, for you knew your name was already passed around the table twice now. But Vincent took your hesitation for something else and rolled his eyes playfully.

“Not much for words, aren’t ya? That’s fine I guess. I sometimes end up doing all the talking anyway.”

His brother burst into laughter, followed by Ava. Vincent raised a brow at their sudden commotion.

“What’s so funny to you two?”

“Oh nothing Vinny, just that you’re so fucking stupid sometimes.”

“Excuse me? Who the hell are you calling stupid?” Vincent said, with a tone of malice laced in his voice. Carly (being the angel she is) noticed the tension arising between the two brothers, and attempted to change the conversation to prevent a fight from happening.

“Enough you two! And Troy, keep your mouth shut if you’re going to swear. I won’t have a sailor courting my sister.”

Troy immediately clamped his mouth shut, but his eyes still held intense eye-contact with his older brother. Vincent rolled his eyes at his sibling’s childish behaviour.

“So, to answer the question you asked earlier Vincent; the lady’s name is y/n.”

Vincent nodded his head and seemed to repeat the words under his breath, before he stood up hastily and snatched his notebook off the table.

“Nice. Cool. Great to meet you. Anyway, I have somewhere to be. I’ll be right back.” And like that, he quickly shuffled away towards the exit of the luncheon room. That was kind of rude.

You raised a brow, silently asking Carly why he abruptly abandoned the table. She shrugged and motioned with her hands that he was ‘crazy.’ You giggled before slapping her hands down and telling her to be ‘nice’.

+++

The clock finally struck 2 o’clock and you are sure you never abandoned a classroom so fast in your entire life. You would’ve kept up the pace if it weren’t for you running into a familiar group of giggling bullies.

You swear your soul momentarily left your body.

“Well, girls look! Isn’t it our beloved new freshmen!” a blonde girl with bright green eyes announced to her group, with an evil smirk gracing her freckled face. Well, you’ll be damned. You have never wished the ground to consume you so much right now.

“Hey dear, where did you get that dress? The donation box?” Another girl with a slightly darker complexion than the blonde girl. The three other girls of the group laughed obnoxiously, and you felt tempted to cover your ears to block out their shrill voices.

“No, actually. I bought it. Unlike you. I bet you spent all your ‘daddy’s’ money on your stupid lace and petticoats. Actually, I also bet that you have never even made your own money!” you spat out rather aggressively. Your eyes widened after the words spewed from your mouth. Nerves do marvellous things sometimes.

The blonde girl’s eyes widened when she realised you stood up for yourself. (Even though it was pretty much accidental) Her eyes narrowed down at you and she began to saunter up to you and practically forced you to take a few steps back.

“Listen here you little-”

“Aye! Got your wrinkled hands off my friend!”

You tilted your head to the side and noticed that Carly and Ava were both there standing with their arms crossed.

“Wrinkled hands? You filthy little brat, you better take that back or else-”

“Or else what? You’ll have your dear ol’ daddy call the school and report us? You don’t even know our names, bitch.” Carly confidently walked up to you, grabbed your hand, and tugged you along with her. You nearly tripped over your own feet from how strong she yanked you.

“You’ll regret this! I promise you will!” the blonde girl shrieked at the top of her lungs. Her group of friends circled around her to ‘calm their princess’ down. And to top off her dramatic display, she let a few fake tears trickle down her face. Ava made a gagging noise at their exaggerated emotions, and her sister chuckled at her theatrics.

When the warm air finally hit you, you let out a breath you had been holding in from the stress of the previous encounter.

“You alright there?” Carly asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You nodded your head, even though you weren’t sure you were alright. Those girls sure do know how to make you feel insecure. And of course, they just had to nitpick about your lack of excessive flauntering of wealth.

Carly seemed to notice that you were in fact not alright, and she pulled you into a tight hug, which you reciprocated immediately.

“Hey sunshine, don’t let those girl’s words affect you. They always find something to call out about you.”

Ava eventually joined the hug, and you sighed happily, to which the other two girls giggled at.

“So, how about we three go out for some coffee or tea? I know I need some!” Carly announced with a beaming smile. Ava nodded at her sister’s idea, and you eventually joined in with the silent agreement.

“Great! I know just the place! I promise you, you’re gonna love it!”

+++

A few weeks later, you found yourself settling into a new schedule. You wake up, go to school and talk to Carly and Ava anytime there was a free period. Once in a while Troy was with his girlfriend, and you genuinely enjoyed his presence. However, you barely ever saw Vincent, but you didn’t care much since he was a junior with his own group of friends that he had.

But that doesn’t mean you didn’t wish he was around. When you first met him, he seemed genuinely interesting, and he appeared to share a similar passion with you for reading. Or in this case, writing.

Which is why it surprised you one day when he approached you. You were outside sitting in the school’s courtyard, enjoying one of your favourite books, The Hobbit, when a shadow fell over your form. You looked up and your eyes widened slightly at the sight of a certain junior you weren’t expecting to see.

“Hey there Miss Shyness! Haven’t talked to you in awhile. How’s school been for you so far?”

Your mouth hung open slightly at his simple words. Why was he suddenly interested in how school was for you? He chuckled when you seemed momentarily lost for words, and took that as an invitation to continue talking.

“Hey, we’re past the awkward introductions now! You don’t need to feel shy talking to me. Unless I scare you, then that is totally understandable. I mean–sorry?” He cringed at his sudden deplete in confidence, but lightened up a little when you giggled lightly at his words.

“You’re very funny, has anyone ever told you that?”

Vincent smirked at your words and placed his hands on his hips confidently.

“No, as a matter-of-fact. Most people tell me to ‘shut-up’ when I try to joke around. But alas, there is a first time for everything, am I right?” he wiggled his eye-brows suggestively, and you gasped at the hidden meaning of his words.

“Hey! You’re talking to a lady here!” you feigned disgust, to which he laughed at a little more.

“And a very pretty lady too. Mind if I join ya?” he asked casually. You felt your face redden a little bit, and you coughed to help relieve some of the tingly-ness from your stomach. His simple compliment for some reason made you feel as if your insides were turning into butterflies. You shrugged it off as lack of approval from people growing up.

“N-no, I don’t mind. But I’m not doing much, just reading.” You anxiously babbled. Where had your remaining confidence gone? Stupid butterflies. Vincent shrugged at your answer and basically plopped down on top of you.

“What book are you reading?”

“The Hobbit.” you answered, you felt the blush beginning to creep back into your face, and quickly turned your head away so he wouldn’t notice.

“I’ve heard lots of good stuff about it. What do you think of it?” he asked. Your face felt hot at this point, and hoped he didn’t notice it. Why was he interested in your opinion on a silly book? I mean, you were actually rather flattered by it, and not being teased for reading such things.

“I like it, which is why I’m re-reading it for the up-teenth time.” you said simply, hoping your wavering voice came across as confident to your friend. (Was he your friend? You weren’t entirely sure)

“Ah, well, can I read with you?”

“What?”

“Can I read with you?”

Your brows rose high into your hairline from his question. Was he asking for an invite to involuntarily spend more time with you? You were sure you were going to have a heart attack at this point.

“S-sure, why not.” You answered, swallowing thickly when he felt you pulse speed up slightly. You mentally scolded yourself for acting so silly. He only wanted to read along with you, so why are you getting all clammy from his simple gesture?

Maybe it’s because you truly have never had such an intimate moment with a boy before. You exhaled slowly to calm your nerves down, and nearly passed onto the next life when you felt warm hands graze against your back to pat you gently.

“There, there. No need to breath so hard. If me being close to you bothers you so you can just tell me to fuck off.”

You shook your head vigorously, and your hair almost wacked him in the face. He chuckled at your actions and decided that you were alright with the close-seating arrangement. A beat passed, and you eventually found the courage to open the book and continue the entertaining story of Bilbo Baggins and the Dwarves.

+++

“He did what?”

“He asked me if he could read along with me.” You replied to Carly once again. You both were currently in your bedroom, sitting on top of your newly dew-bleached blanket. It was a gift from your late grandmother for your eleventh birthday, and finally got around to unpacking it and bleaching it to safely wash. Carly absolutely loved it, and joked about taking it back home with her. And said female was currently staring at you as if you had grown a pair of wings and were flying.

“I heard you for the first time girl! I can’t believe he would do that though!” she practically beamed with excitement for your little ‘hang-out’ with Vincent earlier that day. You felt your ears turn pink from the memory, and Carly smirked when she noticed how hot and bothered you looked.

“Seems to me my little ‘princesa’ is in lovey-dovey with a certain Holland boy.” You groaned aloud in embarrassment, and instantly noticed your mistake when you didn’t immediately correct her of you not having a crush on him.

Well, damn.

Carly’s smirk turned into more like a wicked grin, and you shrank away into your pillows as if you could disappear into them.

“Ha! I knew it! You know, you were so obvious that you liked him when he first introduced himself. Hearts basically swirled in your eyes like one of those cartoon characters.”

Your face was basically red at this point, and you felt too called out to even come up with a witty come-back.

“So” she trailed off mischievously, before winking at you and continuing her teasing rant.

“Whatcha think I should tell Mr. Holland about a certain little freshman’s crush?”

You gasped and jumped on her to cover her mouth as if she was going to announce to the entire city your current darkest secret.

“You wouldn’t dare!” you cried. Carly laughed wickedly at your growing despair from the lack of control of the conversation.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. I am a strict follower of ‘Girl’s Code.’ Good thing Ava isn’t here, she tends to babble everything to her beloved boyfriend of hers, who most certainly shares things with said crush of yours.”

You felt your eyes flutter shut in slight reassurance that your new little crush wasn’t going to be announced to anyone. Thank goodness Carly was a genuine friend.

“Anyway, speaking of the Holland’s, Troy’s turning 16 next week and we are both invited to his party he’s hosting. But just to make you aware, his parents are a little. . .intense.”

You raised a brow.

“What do you mean, ‘intense?’” you questioned, slight worry wavering in your tone of voice.

“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Holland are a bit of the ‘stuck-up’ upperclassmen, and don’t exactly appreciate their sons meddling with us ‘lesser-folk.’ Not saying you’re lesser than them! I just mean-”

“I understand.” you sighed heavily. “Please don’t tell me that-”

“Not to worry! Vincent and Troy are nothing like their parents. In fact, I betcha that their parents know little-to-nothing about their kids! They were both raised by nannies or somethin. Doesn’t matter though. What does is that they are both the sweetest, and not to mention, the most polite men I have ever met. Actually, Vincent seems to have a bit of an ego–but other than that, they’re both great!”

You nodded at her words, processing them slowly and thinking hard about the new information.

Should you try to get with a boy who has (from what you gathered) silly (as in biassed-opinionated, and possibly sexist,) , stuck-up parents? You sighed heavily at the mental war, and smiled thankfully when a warming hand was placed on your shoulder to ease your growing inner-conflict.

“Hey old sport! No need for a mental breakdown! You can have one of those romantic relationships where you run off into the sunset from fear of the parents' judgement. Now I’m getting ideas for my own relationship–and I’m single!” She exclaimed, pure and utter joy in her voice. You giggled quietly and shook your head at her playfulness. You sometimes wished you had her ‘sweet-imagination.’

But now, the idea of running away was locked away in your brain.

+++

The day of Troy’s birthday-party was finally here. You, Carly and Ava were busy in their bedroom getting ready for the big event. You had learned two days prior that the Holland’s birthday parties were more along the lines of ‘balls,’ which made your mouth drop in astonishment. How wealthy was this family?

The dress code wasn’t too complicated, but wasn’t too low-budget friendly either. But being the living angel like always, Carly had a spare gown for you to wear and you couldn’t be more thankful for. Some mending was required on the dress to make sure it would fit your form correctly, but other than that, it was perfect.

It was a flowy, white gown that had blue lace embroidered on the sleeves, neck and waist. To say you fell in love (a second time) with the dress was an understatement.

After your small trio felt ready to leave, you both admired each other lovingly and shared some supporting compliments to one another to share the ‘confidence.’

“Damn girl! Vincent is going to trip over himself when he sees you walking in! A literal goddess is among us!” Carly said teasingly, and her sister verbally agreed happily, to which you blushed at thankfully.

The drive to the Holland Home wasn’t too long, and you gasped aloud when you spotted how large the house was.

You knew the Hollands were rich, but not that rich.

“What does Mr. Holland even do to get this much money?” You asked, your eyes widened in disbelief of the large town-house that towered over you and your friends.

“Mostly inheritance I believe. But their father is a TV show host or something. A lot of money comes from that, I bet.” Ava answered nonchalantly, to which you nodded in response.

You eventually found yourself in a ballroom-like area, and found that there were many sophisticated looking couples already dancing around with each other. There was even a live orchestra? What the fuck?!

Your eyes were close to falling out of your skull from how wide they were, but your internal admiration for the fashionable house was interrupted when Ava announced she was going to look for her boyfriend. Carly waved her off with some sort of remark about how ‘love-sick’ she was, before kissing her cheek and joining your side.

“So, whatcha thinking so hard about? Your face tenses up when you're having a mental spiral.” Carly said rather casually. Your eyes widened a little when you realised how easy you were to read.

“I’m just admiring the view. It’s not often when you’re in an upperclassmen’s house.”

“Well, if all works out for you, you could be living in this house.”

You gasped at your friend's comment, and felt your cheeks redden instantly.

“Carly Burns! You can’t say things like that!”

She laughed loudly, and drew some attention from minglers that were standing near to you. You awkwardly smiled at one couple, when their eyes narrowed at you suspiciously.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself! It’s just too easy.”

“What’s too easy?” a familiar voice interrupts.

Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Hey, Vincent! How are you? Quite the party you have going on!” Carly said, forcing a more serious expression on her face, even though she was rather close to bursting into laughter.

You wished sometimes she wasn’t so ‘golden-retriever’ like in moments like this.

“I’m alright, Carly. And yes, it is a very extensive party, isn’t it?” He said, looking at you to see if you would agree with him.

Aww, he wanted your input on things, how cute.

Your cheeks were burning again.

You need to get a hold of yourself.

“Eh heh, hey.” you waved at him awkwardly, but smiled a bit more when he waved back with a smirk gracing his handsome face.

“Hey there, Miss Shyness! Glad to see you made it!” he practically beamed at you, and you felt your face burn even more from his soft gaze.

“I’ll leave you both to it! And Vincent,” Carly motioned him over to her, and he inched a bit closer to her side so she could whisper something in his ear. From the way his cheeks reddened a little, you could tell she said something that embarrassed him.

Eventually, she skipped off to find someone else to bother, and you were left all alone with (the love of your life) friend. A beat passed, and the silence was interrupted when he reached out a hand to you to take.

“May I have this dance, Miss Shyness?” He asked with a dramatic bow. Wow, how gentlemen like of him. You giggled mentally.

But you felt your blood run cold a bit when you fully processed his words. You didn’t know how to dance, especially for an event like this!

“What’s wrong? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He answered, sounding a little bit disappointed in your indirect ‘rejection.’

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I really do. I just don’t know how to dance.” you answered truthfully, waiting for the possible rejection of him learning of the inconvenience.

“Remember what I told you a week or so ago?”

You searched your brain, but couldn’t find anything from your past interactions involving dancing.

“I said,” he continued when he noticed your hesitation, “that there’s a first time for everything.”

Your eyes widened when the memory came back to you, and you felt your lips curl into a small smile.

“I’ll be honest with you, but I’m not that much of a good dancer myself, but we can still learn together. Please?” He held his hand out to you again to take, and you swore your heart was close to bursting out of your chest.

You took his outstretched hand, and shivered slightly at his warm and inviting touch. You looked up and noticed he was already looking at you and smiling brightly.

What a handsome young man.

“C’mon, let’s go to a more quiet area.” He began to lead you through the crowd, and you raised your brow when you realised he was leading you to double-doors, which you assumed led to a garden outside.

“When you said ‘more quiet,’ I thought you meant a less crowded area.” You stated when you ventured out into a very-well kept garden. Vincent smiled at your words but continued to lead you down a path that had roses planted on the sides.

“Nope. I meant it for real. Nobody can disturb our little ‘practise’ out here. Especially my…parents.” He trailed off a bit when he mentioned his overruling parents.

The butterflies were back, but this time, ten-fold.

Vincent once again noticed your hesitation, and took it as you being uncomfortable.

“Hey, if you don’t want to be outside with only me, we could go back-”

“No!” You cut him off, and your eyes widened at your own little outburst. Vincent didn’t seem fazed however, and took that as a que to grab onto your waist and pull you in closer to him.

Your blush intensified, and you were sure he noticed it now, and was thankful he didn’t call attention to it. He began to lead you in a simple two-step dance, and thankfully, no toes were stepped on yet.

After a small pause of silence, Vincent spoke up to you again.

“You look very lovely tonight.” He said softly. You looked up from the ground and made eye-contact with him. He had a soft smile etched onto his face, and you could feel your heart skip a beat from it.

“T-thank you. You look quite dashing yourself, Vincent.” You stumbled on your words bashfully, but he paid no mind to your shyness, and in fact, found it quite cute.

“Of course. I spare no compliments with people I think are worth receiving.”

Your brow raised in slight confusion of his words, and he seemed to take that as you not appreciating his choice of language and he immediately back-tracked on himself.

“Sorry! That came out more rude than I meant! What I meant to say was a lot of people etch for compliments even though they don’t exactly deserve them. You are different. I-I. . .” his confidence seemed to dissipate immediately and it was amusing to you how you made him get nervous just from a simple expression.

His hands dropped from his waist and he brought them up to his face to cover his eyes in embarrassment. He groaned in self-pity and was inwardly begging for you not to view him differently after his little ‘word mix-up’.

You brought your hands up to his and pulled them from his face slowly. His eyes widened a bit when you both made eye-contact again. You smiled shyly at him, and his familiar smirk returned back.

“You are such a dork, Vincent.” You said with a flirtatious tilt of your head. You batted your lashes at him and he visibly gulped at your action.

“O-only for you.” He said softly, to which your eyes widened in shock.

“W-what?” Your voice wavered with curiosity of his words.

Your question was answered when his hands reached up to your chin and pulled you into a deep kiss.

Your eyes widened in shock–you were kissing the Vincent Holland. Holy fucking shit.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you reached your hands up into his hair and tangled them into his locks. He hummed lovingly into the kiss when you pulled on them lightly. Feeling a little too confident, he opened his mouth to leave an open mouth kiss on your lips, before he bit down a little too hard on your bottom lip. You groaned softly to the slight pain, but it was immediately forgotten when he sucked on your lip to ease the bite.

“Vincent Holland, what the hell are you doing?!” a female voice shrieked, causing you and Vincent to immediately pull away from one another.

You both turned around and noticed a middle-aged woman in a deep-green dress standing there with her arms on her hips. And what a face she was making.

“M-mother, what a pleasant surprise?” Vincent awkwardly asked. His mother apparently didn’t like the answer and stomped over to and pulled him away from you.

“Why are you here spoiling your innocence with what looks like a lower-class girl!? Are you out of your damn mind?!” His mother screeched. You felt tears weld up in your eyes from the lack of care for your presence. How the fuck dare she treat you AND her son like this?

“Mother! You can’t say things like that!” Vincent yelled back, before he grabbed your hand and protectively hid you behind him.

“You’re an absolute disgrace to our family name if you decide to defend the girl!”

“I. Don’t. Care! This girl has shown more appreciation for my existence than YOU have in the past 17 years of my life!”

His moms mouth hung open in shock of her son's blatant disrespect of her ‘views.’ After a very tense beat of silence, she raised a hand as if she was about to hit her son, before she decided against it and brought it back to her hips.

“You have two choices here, Vincent, and I hope you choose wisely.” Vincent’s eyes narrowed on his mother, before he nodded his head to urge her to continue.

“You either drop the girl and keep a good view on our family name, or you go with the girl, and you're disowned and no longer recognised as our son.” Her features darkened as if she knew he would choose the first option and get her way. But the evil smirk she had going on dropped instantly when he backed away from her towards you.

“Why would I ever choose to be associated with you? You’re a psychopathic freak, and I’ll be damned if you get in the way of who I wish to be with! So I choose the second option, and I’ll be on my way now. Good-bye, Bonnie Holland.”

And like that, he reached down and grabbed your hand securely, and led you out towards a back gate that led onto the busy streets of his neighbourhood.

What the fuck just happened?

Your face was still wet from your tears from the old hag’s ruthless insults and loveless verbal abuse towards her son. How does he deal with it?

You both continued to walk down the paved sidewalk that eventually led out to the busy streets, and you were sure Vincent could feel the sadness emanating from you in strong waves.

“I’m so sorry about that, doll. I wished you didn’t have to witness my psychotic mother’s temper.” He said, his voice wavering from equal dismay. You held back more tears from falling, and stopped walking to pull him into a loving embrace. He was stiff at first from the sudden intimate contact, but he eventually wrapped his own arms around you tightly. You raised yourself up a bit to give him a kiss on the cheek, to which he smiled at you for gratefully.

After your peaceful embrace ended, you attempted to lighten up the mood to invite him over to your own home.

“You hungry? I bet my mom has something we can chomp on left over at my ‘humble abode.’”

A small smile crept back on his face, and he nodded eagerly.

“I would love nothing more.”

Hand-in-hand, you both continued on your trek back to your home, giggling at each other happily.

Young love was truly magical.

#x reader #x y/n #vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #fem!reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #IWAFY #IWAFY AU

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scarletttries · 1 year ago

Text

Woo Jin NSFW Alphabet (Bloodhounds)

Pairing: Hong Woo-Jin (Bloodhounds) x Reader

Rating: Fluffy Smut

Word Count: 3.2k

Author's Note: As promised here is the NSFW Woo Jin Alphabet. I love these boys so much I might have to do some fluff alphabets for them too, and I think I'm going to do some Peacemaker and Stranger Things fluff alphabets too so watch out for those! I'm on holiday at the moment and am finding alphabets much easier to write than full fics so please feel free to request a fluff or NSFW alphabet with any character you might enjoy! :)

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

A man who knows how to be charming, even when he's just rambling like an idiot, Woo Jin's aftercare involves a lot of talking. Be prepared for him to recap his top moments, ask your opinion on every little thing he did, making sure he knows exactly what to keep and what to change up next time to keep becoming better and better for you. He gets clingy too, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you flush against him, spooning you as he chirps excitedly in your ear about how amazing you were and how much he loves that he gets to do this with you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Woo Jin's body is a testament to the efforts he's put into it day in and day out, but he still feels surprisingly insecure for a man in such good shape, like no matter how strong he is, he'll always be surrounded by people that are stronger. Thankfully the first time he takes off shirt in front of you, maybe he's invited you to a boxing match for the first time, and you jaw drops, eyes racking over his chiseled chest and abs, he suddenly feels so much better (you can guarantee he won the fight that day.) From then on he'll find any excuse to take his shirt off in front of you, spurred on by the wanting way you lick your lips, knowing you'll be curled up against him in no time.

Speaking of your lips, Woo Jin can't imagine a pair could ever be more perfect. He was a goner the first time he saw you smile, and when you laughed at something he said? Heart eyes for days! The sound of you giggling at his jokes is his favourite in the world and every time you smile at him he feels ten foot tall. The first time he worked up the nerve to finally kiss you, he almost couldn't believe how warm and soft your mouth felt against his, an inviting feeling he now can't go a day without. And when you map a constellation of kisses across his chest, sinking to your knees to put your lips to work, well let's just say that boy has never been happier in his life.

C= Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Woo Jin isn't exactly shy once you're at the stage of sleeping together, and he absolutely loves feeling like he's marking you as his by cuming inside or on you. When you first start sleeping together, he's worried about finishing inside you, instead letting himself spill over your chest or stomach, quickly offering to help you clean up as an excuse to get to feel your skin even more. But when you first ask him to cum in inside you, the feeling of being buried inside you as you both cum together, well that might just be his favourite, feeling totally connected to you and as close to you as he possibly can. Sometimes he'll aim to get straight into a second round so he doesn't have to choose between being inside you or all over you.

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Woo Jin's got a big mouth that's always running, and a big appetite, and all that leads to him having an oral fixation when it comes to you. He could happily make out with you for hours, feeling positively obsessed with having your lips on his, constantly interrupting your day to steal a kiss if he thinks it's been too long. In bed he'll constantly give you hickies across your chest where only you can see, or if the pleasures too much he'll just barely sink his teeth into your shoulder, his mouth needing to feel you at all times. If you return the favour, biting and sucking on his neck when he's inside you, prepare to hear the most strangled moan of your name as he desperately fights back his immediate climax. He'll be praised you every second as well, telling you how perfect you feel, even when his mouth is full and you can barely understand a word.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Woo Jin has a little more experience than Gun Woo, occasionally meeting women in bars and bringing them home for the night when he was younger. You'd be his first real relationship though, the first person he's wanted to sleep with again and again, and to keep impressing. He'll know enough from his previous encounters to make your first time together very special, but from then on his focus is learning everything about what you like, figuring out exactly how to make you cry out his name as loudly as possible.

F = Favourite Position (this goes without saying)

Honestly, it is probably just his head between your legs, watching your whole body shake as he makes you cum on his tongue for the second time today. But he also loves being behind you, wrapping his arms around you so you are pressed to his chest so he can keep cover your lips, neck, shoulders with his kiss while he fucks into you. He loves the strength he feels from being able to move your body around in bed, his muscles coming in very handy when he wants to pin you down and keep you exactly where he wants you, to make sure you feel absolutely everything.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Woo Jin barely has a serious bone in his body, his happy grin on his face in every moment you two spend together. He would throw out the most ridiculous compliments and praises when you're in bed together, the whole interaction so fun and lighthearted even though it clearly also means so so much to him. He'll be giggly and euphoric afterwards too, practically play wrestling in bed with you just to keep having a reason to feel you beneath him.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they?)

Woo Jin cares a lot about style and fashion, taking a lot of care in the way he looks and always keeping everything tidy for you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Woo Jin might not show intimacy in the serious way others would, but it doesn't take long for you to realise his lighthearted jokes and the way he messes around when he's getting undressed with you is his way of his being vulnerable and connecting with you on the level he feels most intimate at. He might try and be more romantic and serious if you wanted, but it's hard not to feel special when he gives you that goofy grin he doesn't get to wear very often and saves for his perfect moments with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He's an excitable kind of guy, so Woo Jin's no stranger to his own company, entertaining whatever thoughts he can conjure - from the day you met, I can guarantee you that every image will be of you, he's just that obsessed. He'll definitely fantasize about you whenever you have to spend any length of time apart, getting easily riled up when he starts thinking about how much he misses your lips all over him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

If you're into it, Woo Jin can enjoy getting a little rough and possessive in bed - he loves being able to pin your hands above your head as he bucks his hips against yours, asking you to tell you him that you're his over and over again. Boys definitely got a praise kink too, every time you tell how good he's making you feel he'll make it his personal mission to somehow make you feel even better. And oh my god if you called him 'Sir' in bed, that bit of marine pride would drive him absolutely insane.

Finally, if you agreed with it, I think Woo Jin would love to wake you up by going down on you, wanting you to wake up in the best possible mood, and feeding into his love of feeling like you and your body are all his.

L = Location (favourite places to do it)

Despite his attitude I think Woo Jin would mostly play it safe and have the most fun just sharing nights together in either of your apartments, where he can really take his time and feel safe to explore everything with you. The exception to that is when you come see him at Boxing matches, or even just training at the gym, he'll always want to show off for you, and gets all excited seeing you cheer him on, supporting him and thinking he can do anything - when he wins, he'll definitely sneak you into the locker room for a private moment so he can show you just how much he appreciates your cheerleading.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly it would be a shorter list to write what you do that doesn't get Woo Jin going! As above, any time he sees you cheering him on or supporting him it definitely turns him on, your support making him feel so good and loved. The same goes for when he's able to make you laugh with his silly comments and jokes, it just makes him feel like you really get him and that he can be himself with you, every opportunity to be open and intimate with you one that he wants to really make the most of. It comes from a place of feeling a bit insecure in himself, like he's been a runner up his whole life and finally here comes you, making him feel like a winner and the luckiest guy in the world every single day.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

We've established Woo Jin can get a little insecure and jealous, so he wouldn't want to do anything that would feel like sharing you with someone else, wanting you to belong solely to each other. Other than that the only thing that could really turn him off is if he thought you weren't really feeling it, your comfort and pleasure the sexiest thing in the world to him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) - oral fixation, tries to talk, vibrations work

This man lives to give. He needs something to occupy his mouth at all times, and there's nothing he loves more than putting his tongue to work between your legs, feeling you tremble at his touch, hearing you moan out his name and tell him he's the best at this. He's constantly telling you how good you look during sex, and that doesn't stop when he's going down on you, the vibrations from his non-stop monologue of flirting teasing every nerve in your body. You'll see flashes of that cheeky smile as you tell him you're ready for him to fuck you, but he just shakes his head and tells you he's not done yet.

He'll be eternally grateful when you return the favour too, the moment your tongue meets his tip maybe the only time in his life when his mind is blank and he finally stops talking - only for a moment before the praises spill out again amongst pants of your name, and confessions of just how much he loves you and how lucky he is to have you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) - face/rough/energetic

Woo Jin is an athletic and agile man, and that would carry through to the bedroom. He's so excitable that it's like a whirlwind as he rips off clothes and covers every inch of your body in his kisses, pace frantic and rough when he's finally inside you. Sometimes he'll slow it down though, when you roll on top of him first thing in the morning or he comes home from a particularly long day, drained and looking for the comfort of you slowly riding him as he spends the whole night chasing your lips with his, arms wrapped around you so you never get too far away.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) -

Woo Jin is so obsessed with you that sometimes he just needs a quickie; he knows you only have ten minutes before you need to be out the door to meet your friends, but he's been craving you all day and he feels like if he doesn't get to feel and taste you for another five hours it might just kill him! He's strong enough to press you up against the nearest wall, wrapping your legs around his shoulders so he can taste you before he brings you to his waist and pounds into you mercilessly, making sure you're both satisfied but you still get to leave on time - even if your legs feel more like jelly than you would like.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Despite having lived an incredibly dangerous life (with some very close calls) Woo Jin has learned nothing - he will take any risk and experiment in any way you suggested if you asked him with a smile. He wouldn't necessarily be the one to suggest something new, but he'd definitely take the risk of being together in public somewhere if he felt like he really needed you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Woo Jin trains to bounce back quickly in the ring, between rounds of boxing, so he's always ready for a round two pretty quickly, never wanting the moment between you two to end.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He wouldn't own any toys himself, but if he ever found out you had a vibrator he would beg you to let him use it on you, absolutely mesmerized by your reactions to its touch. He would definitely want to introduce it to your sleepy morning sex, just to help you wake up in the happiest way.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It takes one look at Woo Jin's devilish smile to know this man would be the worst (and best) tease. He'd love touching you oh so gently and watching you react, joking about how badly you need him when he's barely even done anything. Lives for making you beg for him to actually fuck you, teasingly saying he thinks you're not ready and need him to make you cum again on his fingers. When he's feeling particularly mischievous he loves being able to pin your hands and straddle your hips, taking his sweet time sliding into you and watching you squirm, unable to move your hips to hurry him along.

When the tables are turned however, he is an absolute baby. He gets so pathetic when you make him wait, if you hover him with your entrance just out of reach, chuckling at his attempts to lift his hips to feel you. Very quickly starts pleading and begging for you to touch him, telling you how bad he needs you because only you can make him feel this good.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Woo Jin has a big mouth, that never stops running - his moans are loud from the minute you shift onto his lap until his final thrust, interspersed with the a long stream of the sweetest words you could ever want to here, praising everything about your body, your personality, your soul and the way you look and sound and feel around his dick. Even afterwards the compliments don't stop coming until he's fallen asleep for the night.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for this character) - constantly has you on a facetime call when he's out living his life, even if it's all day - > phone sex.

Even though it's inevitable that sometimes you have to spend a little bit of time apart, Woo Jin views missing you as completely unacceptable. So whenever he has to be away from you, he'll start a video call with you and just talk to you all day while he's out living his life, like a little one person vlog. He just wants you to see everything about his day and know exactly what you're up to, even if the call has to last all day. Any time he's in his little apartment alone and you can't come over he'll get you on his phone, propping you up so he can see everything you're doing and vice versa.

It wouldn't take too many weeks of this constant company before one night he starts pleading about how much he wishes you were sleeping over, and you can see him subconsciously palming himself through his pyjamas. So you'd slip your camisole off your shoulders and ask him exactly what he'd be doing if he was with you right now, his eyes bulging wide at the realisation that this is actually happening. Now if you're apart he can't sleep without touching himself over the phone to you and telling you all the ways he wants to make you feel good when he sees you tomorrow.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Woo Jin's pretty tall and muscular, so every part of him would probably be a bit bigger than average ;)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Woo Jin's craving for you is relentless, most of his waking moments filled with thoughts of your beauty and kindness, and often that translates into wanting to please you and feel you. If you ever made the slightest suggestion that you were in the mood, he'd be immediately ready to go, but sometimes all he wants to do is cuddle up with you, resting his head on your lap while you play with his hair, or having you lie against his chest while his fingertips lightly trace shapes on your arm - it's all wonderful quality time for him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

It tends to be the two ends of the spectrum for Woo Jin - half the time he'll be immediately unconscious, the other half he'll be so excited about having a great time with you that he'll be buzzing with energy, playfully rolling around with you in bed and smiling ear to ear as he pours out every thought he's ever had and tries to learn absolutely everything about you.

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #bloodhounds x reader #bloodhounds kdrama #bloodhounds netflix #bloodhounds imagines #bloodhounds #woo jin x reader #woojin x reader #hong woo jin #hong woojin #hong woo jin x reader #woo jin imagines #woo jin headcanons

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jcollinswrites · 4 months ago

Note

JC!!!

No you did not make a father/son RO choice 💀

I just saw this and ofcourse you did 🤣😭

It's gonna be me in Honor amongst thieves all over again.

Now i have to ask another two parter question:

Sorry, i know I'm annoying 😑

1. How would Namer's son actually feel about him dating an MC around their age?

And 2. Much more importantly.

TOTALLY HYPOTHETICAL!!!!!

Completely

I never do this....

Clearly!!!

But say you struggle to really choose between the ROs. And you kinda romance more than one....🫣

How would the ROs react to that? Are some of them very jealous? And who would have the most rivalry dynamic among the ROs if MC was interested in more than one RO.

Just for shits and giggles... i completely have no problem with this in every other game.........

Also hiiiiiii!!! 😇💕

No you did not make a father/son RO choice 💀 I just saw this and ofcourse you did 🤣😭

Huh? I did?

Oh wait. I did. Oops 😇 Could be father/daughter too 🙃

1. How would Namer's son actually feel about him dating an MC around their age?

Very weirded out. They would be uncomfortable around MC for a long time. I think they would need some years to get used to it. If MC is cool about it, then maybe sooner, but I don't think Ahmose could ever really be friends with that MC, not on a deeper level.

you struggle to really choose between the ROs. And you kinda romance more than one....🫣

I thought about this for a long time, and I came to the conclusion that I will do locked romance routes. Not because I don't like jealousy scenes (I love them), but I think I already have way too many variables in the story to be able to implement a who-dates-who/ break-up/get-together-again thing. It would just be too much to write and I'm already writing A LOT.

So, my current plan is to make a choice in Chapter 4 (up to change), where you choose your final RO and get stuck with it 'til the bitter end. I'm sorry if this disappoints some readers, but I think this is the best solution for me to be able to deliver a quality story.

How would the ROs react to that? Are some of them very jealous? And who would have the most rivalry dynamic among the ROs if MC was interested in more than one RO.

For the aforementioned reasons, this ask is not spoilery then, so here you go 😀

I think Narmer would be the most jealous lol. He would try not to show it, but he really wouldn't like it if MC suddenly starts showing interest in someone else. (ESPECIALLY if that other person is his kid, then he would be pissed off. Unless the MC is a teen. Then he would go YES go choose Ahmose you idiot)

Qenna would take that as an opportunity to push the MC towards the other, clearly better, more emotionally stable, not-a-trainwreck potential love interest. It would hurt them like a bitch, but they would still do it.

Zaia would sulk. They would be conflicted between wanting to prove that they are clearly better than that other nobody, but at the same time, Zaia would realize that MC would probably be better off with a fellow human.

Tabiry would be a bit jealous. But she also knows that the MC is a person with free will and a free heart, so she would try to up her game, but otherwise, wouldn't interfere. She would sulk in private.

Ahmose would be a bit heartbroken. I think they would just go for advice to Qenna, who is actually not the worst person to ask for advice, and Qenna would tell them to have confidence, be themselves, and let the MC choose what they want. (bit hypocritical, but that's Qenna in a nutshell)

Long ass answer lol, but thanks for the messages! ✨ (you are not annoying)

#interactive fiction #characters #weeping gods #romance #jealousy #romance mainframe #narmer #qenna #zaia #tabiry #ahmose #locked romance routes

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transfemzedaph · 11 months ago

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idea that definitely hasnt been living in my brain:

joel totally, 100%, does NOT have a massive crush on zedaph. zedaph, who he's heard a lot of things about but, but nothing could've prepared him for how blummin' cute he is, for goodness sake-- what. what? don't look at him like that. it's nothing. shut up.

(hope u like this even if u dont write smth for it DJBDJD)

i fucking loved this ask so much <3. i transed joel & zeds genders. bc im me. also the end is meh & i dont know what grians base looks like and i do not care

Of course Joel had heard about Zedaph, how could they not have. There was the rest of ZITS in the life series, Skizz specifically when he found out the both of them were joining, and of course Grians run down of all of the hermits. The basic gist of it was she's weird in a cool way and makes creative and useless but fun machines, which honestly, Joel thought sounded really awesome. Redstone was fine and all but they did tend to think most redstoners were way too serious about the whole thing.

So when Joel was invited over to be the first person to test Zeds newest thing, they were excited!

What none of any of his friends had told them, was how flippin cute she was. And yeah maybe Joel ended up stumbling over their words more than usual whilst hanging out, and yeah maybe they were a little bit distracted from the game? activity? workout? whatever it was, Joel was a bit distracted because they kept watching Zed.

Joel rushes their goodbyes and runs off back home, laying face down on the floor of their newly built home, void they should have put some furniture in already.

Grian wanders over and lets out a little snort at the sight of Joel, who just groans and rolls over, propping themself up a bit,

"This is all your fault."

Grian just stares.

Joel locks eyes with him face scrunching, "You didn't tell me she was cute."

Grian, promptly bursts out laughing.

"Gri, no, this isn't funny. This is serious. And she's gonna think I'm an idiot now and it's all your fault!"

Grian's still laughing.

Joel sits then self up and crosses their arms indignantly, "Are you done?"

Grian's giggling a bit when he replies, "You've got it so bad! For a blonde! Again! You have a type sooo bad."

Joel kicks their leg out towards Grian, grumbling slightly, "Yeah well, you're blonde but you're ugly and I hate you. So there."

Grian sits himself down next to Joel, bumping their shoulder with his own as he does.

"Honestly I bet Zed loved hanging out with you. Don't worry yeah? And at least next time you can compose yourself before you hang out."

Joel leans their head on Grians shoulder.

"Yeah." They sigh, picking at their fingernails, before mumbling "Think 'm just overthinking it cause of being new 'n all that. Just dont wanna make anyone hate me."

Grian scoffs, "No one is going to hate you, and you know Skizz, and probably Tango and Impulse as well, have all talked to Zed about you? Why do you think she invited you to hang out?"

Joel hums.

"To me it seems like she was also trying to impress you too, showing off what she made?"

Joel blushes, halfheartedly giving Grian a little shove, "Shut up."

It's a couple of days later when Joel barges into Grians house, "I have an excuse to go visit Zed!"

Grian sighs, "And you had to come and tell me about this? Right now?"

Joel takes in the scene, Mumbo, standing next to a coffee machine, his moustache looking very lackluster, Grian almost curled up on his stool, hands clasped around a mug.

Joel winces, "Uh, what time is it?"

"Too early for this nonsense, shoo." Grian lazily waves one hand in Joels general direction to usher them away.

Joel grumbles to themself as they walk away, "Whatever, Grian doesn't get to know my really cool and awesome plan of going over and saying that we need to beat Impulse and Tangos high score without being a bit cheaty like they were. Which is the best plan ever."

#original post tag #ask tag #smallishbeans #joel smallishbeans #yeah. gay people djbdjd #writing tag #also i think its rlly funny of me that i went mumbo? sleepy & without coffee? moustache looks like shit.#also mumbo after ghis is like hey what? grian is like ugh joels got a crush #mumbo be like. imagine having a crush on someone. couldnt be me. hashtag aro swag.#hermitshipping

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cmthingssss · 1 year ago

Text

Fluffember - A. Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!reader (I think)

A/N: This was supposed to be fluffy, I'm so sorry. Also, I'm doing kinkmas (no set list yet)!

CW: ANGSTY END, bar, drunkenness, bar fight, split lip, violence, bad writing, mentions of Haley Hotchner!!

WC: 500-ish

As a federal agent, there were plenty of things you weren’t supposed to do… getting into bar fights was one of them. In your defense, the guy needed to be taught a lesson. You won, but the bastard did get a good hit in and busted your lip, causing someone *cough cough Derek Morgan* to call Hotch to come pick you up because he didn’t come out that night. You weren’t aware that he was coming until he arrived to pick you up.

“L/N. Let’s go.” Fucking Derek, of course he called Aaron. You gave him the middle finger while exiting the bar. “I’m going to take you home, but first we’re stopping at my place to bandage you up.” You reluctantly agreed, knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer. When you arrived at Aaron’s home, there were Christmas decorations strewn about with no real order. He looked embarrassed, so you pretended not to notice. At least his terrible decorating skills confirmed he was still single. No. You couldn’t think about him like that. He was your superior, your very hot, older superior who you were in love with, but that’s besides the point.

He walked away and seconds later you heard his voice, in a softer tone than usual from down the hall. “Y/N/N, come here. I need to fix up your hands and that scar on your lip.” You followed his voice to the bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed. He put antibiotics on your hands and then wrapped them lightly. You couldn’t tell if he was staring at your lips deciding the best course of action or for another reason. No. He couldn’t be. Breaking you out of your thoughts, he placed a kiss on your lips, and you kissed him back. You both tried to speak at the same time, but the words got jumbled. Insisting he go first, he admitted he loved you and you bursted into a fit of giggles before admitting you loved him too.

After getting bandaged up, you felt slightly better. “Aar, would you like help with the jumbled mess of decor you have outside?” His cheeks twinged pink, before he welcomed your help. Hotch sat on the couch while you moved smoothly around the house, making it look like Better Homes and Gardens threw up in there. When you finished, you hit him with a “What do you think?” He looked at you with admiration in his eyes and said “Haley loved Christmas.” You had to resist the strongest urge to roll your eyes, because fuck Haley, she’s dead, but whatever. With the reminder of his ex-wife, you felt you overstayed your welcome. “I’m gonna get going.” Desperation flashed across his face and mangled his features. “No, please stay.” A few seconds of silence pass. “I mean, you don’t have to, I just don’t want you to have to get an Uber this late. It’s unsafe, you know.” Aaron wanted to slap himself for sounding like an idiot, even more so after the statement he made trying to cover his ass. “I think it’s best for me to go. Goodbye Hotch.” You started tearing up on your way out the door, but were determined to get the statement out non-shakily (you failed). You were never going to remotely hold a candle to Haley in his mind, and you couldn’t bear to be with him if he was constantly thinking about another woman. He didn’t love you after all.

Prompt Bingo from: @fuckyeah-hetalia

#aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x gn!reader

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boobabietch · 2 years ago

Text

Like I Would | Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Warnings: I could say mdni but they are going to do it anyways so just be mindful that this is +18 and I’m not responsible of the things you watch on this godforsaken site. SMUT, Sub!abby, thigh riding, oral sex (Abby receiving), afab!reader, teasing and I think that’s it but tell me if I missed something

A/N: oh my fucking god this took ages to writeeee, but anyways, hi there!! This is the first time I write for Abby so please excuse me if this is bad (hopefully not because I really liked the result) and also I haven’t wrote smut in ages so excuse that too. I’m not an English native speaker so any mistakes I’m not aware of please tell me so I can change them asap. If you like this you would help me a lot with a like, comment or reblog. Love Sof :)

Word count: 2.1k

"So... are you telling me that he went in dry?" You said this in clear distress to your best friend, Abby.

"Yes?" she said with a little hesitation in her voice.

"And you're still seeing that guy? No wait, let me rephrase that, you're still letting that guy fuck you?" You were astonished by the information Abby just shared. She was so damn perfect, yet somehow she was never properly satisfied in her many experiences with sex.

Why am I not the one in your bed every night?

"I mean, he had a nice time, and that was definitely hot." Oh, fuck no, she did not just say that.

"Shut up, Abby; that's fucked up, dude."

"I mean, what can I say? I take pleasure in seeing people get pleased by me."

"I mean, that's valid! Of course, but that is very different from just letting a guy use you as a sex doll without even making you cum! That's just bad sex, Bibi." You know it; you know that if you just had a chance, you could show her how fucking good she can feel.

"Ok, stop bothering me. Owen is like that. He's rough. It's fine. I can take it." Of course Owen is like that; he’s an idiot.

"Abbyyyy, that's not the issue, and you know it."

Come on, a chance, just one single chance, Abigail, please.

Let me fuck his name away, please

You begged, you literally begged in your mind, to be the one to show Abby that release she was desperately looking for.

"Well, miss know-it-all, if you're going to roast the shit out of me, at least tell me what I'm doing wrong."

"Abby, you're choosing the wrong guys. They can't please you."

They are not me.

"They can't?" The cockiness in her voice could be heard a mile away.

Shit, what game are we playing?

"Of course they can’t, I'm telling you! They just don't know what to do with you. They don't know how to properly treat you, Bibi."

They don’t know, but I do and you know it

"Oh, lord, then who knows? Who knows how to treat me? You?" That fucking giggle she let out after voicing the question...

You were taken aback by it. You had the thought before, every damn night, of Abby all over you, kissing her hungrily like you were starved, your lips biting and sucking every inch of her body, marking her as yours, screaming your name like it was a fucking prayer, like she wanted God to be a witness of the sin happening between you two. Of course you had the thought before...

Fuck it, I’m fucking you.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"I said yes; I'm pretty sure I can do it."

"Then do it; make me fucking cum."

There was something in Abby’s eyes that told you how much she wanted you, how much she craved you, and how much she needed you.

With little to no hesitation, you aggressively pulled her lips into yours, the couch creaking with the sudden movement of your body towering over her. Straddling her hips, her hand traveled to your neck while yours got entangled in her hair, pushing her face impossibly closer to yours.

Her scent makes you dizzy even to remember; your whole senses were full of her; you were breathing her, touching her, and hearing her; she was being engraved in your mind like stone; her body warmth was surrounding your body, making you feel hot and heavy.

Your lips left the comfort of hers to travel to her neck. "Please, just, fuck, just..." she mumbled.

Abby’s head was empty; your body was caging her between the couch, and the way your lips were kissing her soft, velvet skin made her sigh dreamily and made your core ache in agony.

But this wasn’t about you; it was about her.

You started spreading little bites that made her whimper, just so you could smooth out the ache on her red and burning skin afterwards with your tongue, licking on the spots where a mark would be noticeable tomorrow.

You guided Abby to your bed, stumbling into the furniture of your little apartment, and then kicking open the door of your bedroom. Abby sat on your bed, her lips only leaving yours just to tear her shirt and pants away, leaving her only in her fucking black boxers.

The thing is, you’ve been fantasizing about that slutty piece of clothing since the first time you saw her waistband peeking over her jeans, just there, resting and calling you to tear them apart and make her yours there and then.

She lays on your pillows, watching you discard your shirt on the floor. Your nipples perked up because of the sudden cold air that hit them.

"You are so fucking beautiful," she said with her hands traveling to your hips, guiding you to rest on top of her again, now being her the one pressing kisses all over your chest and toying with the hem of your pajama shorts.

"I know pretty one, but let’s focus on you, shall we?" And with a sudden move, you made Abby straddle you while you rested with your back on the headboard.

You kissed her, and a long whine came out of Abby’s lips. Ready to give her some relief, you grabbed her hips, guiding her to grind her clothed cunt on your bare thigh.

"Holy fuck!" It was sparkling; it literally felt like the sparks that come out of a lighter before the flame comes out to burn everything on its path.

"You like that, huh? You desperate little thing, you love this." Abby never felt more turned on by someone; it was like heaven—like a perverted, hot, and burning heaven—shit that sounded more like hell, but if hell felt this good, she would be the biggest sinner of all just so she could feel you again.

Her movements started to become erratic; she moved faster and harsher; her mouth started to let out little moans and profanities; and your skin was now soaked and dripping just from Abby’s fluids.

"You want to cum pretty one? You deserve this one bibi come on," and with that, a long moan came out of her mouth, your hands guiding her to ride her high.

"Shit, shit, shit, you are so fucking hot," she said, leaning for more kisses, but you dodged her face.

"No uh, lay for me, Abs. Be a good girl." She watched you with doe eyes as she complied, slowly laying in your mattress below you once again. You swear that you have never seen her like this, so compliant and at your mercy. You swore that if you struck a knife on her stomach right now mercilessly, she would accept it and thank you for it. She was in awe of you.

Her mind cleared again when the cold air hit her soaking cunt, and she became aware that you had just removed her boxers and were now staring at that pretty and glistening pussy she had.

"Is this okay?" you asked, seeing how she looked at you like a deer in headlights.

"Yes, just do it, please." The agony in her voice became visible when she stuttered the confirmation. You came closer to her face, leaving some soft and slow kisses all over her face

"Okay, Abs, what do you want me to do?" You said it with the most innocent and indecent tone of yours.

"Wha- what?" She stumbled over the words because, holy fuck, you were unreal.

"Yes, Abby, what do you want me to do?" You said slowly parting her legs with your knee, pressing it in her cunt, and start grinding it slowly just to tease the whiny mess you had underneath.

"Your mouth, your fingers, I want you; please, I want you in me," she finally said, rushing the words out of her mouth.

"Your wish is my command, pretty girl." With that, you kissed your way down, sucking a little bit her nipples and leaving hickeys all over her chest. You made it to her cunt, slowly kissing the inside of her legs.

"Fuck, please y/n, please just do something." God, she was so needy.

You licked a line from her entrance all the way to her clit. She was squirming, so you grabbed her hips aggressively, pinning her to the bed. A loud moan coming from her mouth was your cue to start devouring her cunt like a starved woman, your hands applying bruising strength to her hips to keep her steady while you ate her out in the most ungodly way you knew.

Feeling how wet she was, you slipped two fingers into her, knocking the air out of her lungs. You began curling them at her spongy spot, playing with the pace, and then you added your mouth to the equation.

It was too much, but also not enough, and also perfect. Abby’s hand found its way to your hair, gripping it tightly as the other one covered her mouth to muffle her loud moans.

"Hey no, I want to hear your beautiful sounds, ok? So loose the hand or I’ll have to tie it to the headboard" you said, not liking a little bit how hard she was trying to not make a sound. It was your fucking apartment; if your neighbors had any complaints, they could shove it up their asses. Hell, even if it was God and Satan themselves, they could religiously go suck a dick if they were bothered.

Your unholy pace kept going alongside your delirious way to eat cunt, and hearing Abby moan your name like she was trying to carve it in the walls was a fucking dream come true

And then she felt it—the knot forming in her stomach, begging to be untied. The sweat made loose strands of her hair stick to her forehead, the reflex of her hips buckling upwards towards the stimuli, begging for more. The primal instinct to let out the most beautiful whines and moans you'd ever heard, and the urge to bury your face deeper into her cunt just so she could let all that pressure in her core out in that sweet and strong release she was hoping for.

Your eyes traveled upwards, and you saw Abby's face, eyes completely shut down with tears threatening to fall out, all her face contorted with her brows furrowed, and you knew she was there.

"It's okay, pretty one. You can just let go; it's fine," you said. Abby gasped at the sudden loss of contact while you spoke, but then this sudden feeling of pleasure traveled from her body to her core, making her legs shake and the grip she had in your hair become even harsher. "It's okay, Abby. You can let go," and with this came the orgasm she was begging God to have.

Her cum dripping all over your chin, you helped her ride her high, slowly decreasing the pace your fingers had at her now-abused hole until you saw her visibly relax all the muscles in her body, flopping onto the mattress.

With a last kiss on her puffy clit, you made your way up her body, scanning all the marks you left in her hips from the strength you were using to hold her down and the purplish hickeys forming all over her breasts, proving how good you made her feel.

You kissed away all those tears, showering her face with kisses while whispering sweet nothings and compliments. And then, finally, you kissed her lips with such tenderness, as if she were made of porcelain and you were afraid of breaking her, a complete contrast to your first kiss of the night.

Abby's hand traveled to cup your cheek, while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. She had just experienced her first orgasm during sex, and the entire time, she felt loved and cared for by you, making her weak in the knees.

You pulled away, looking expectantly into her eyes. "So, how was it?" you asked, a little grin forming on your lips.

Abby was so enamored with the view of you on top of her, breathing heavily, blushing cheeks, all sweaty and perfect, that she couldn't speak. She tried your lips just today, and just as quickly as it sounds, she became obsessed with how perfectly your entire existence fit with hers, making her feel complete and incredibly good.

After cleaning up, you lay facing upwards with Abby nestled beside you, burying her face in your neck. Abby was a big, intimidating, and dominant woman most of the time, but sometimes she just wanted someone to take care of her, just as she took care of everyone else. And you were that someone. Tonight, with her whole body pressed into you and your digits tracing shapes on her bare back, you thought while pressing your lips to her forehead.

Hell yeah, I could get used to this.

Tags: @cvqii @akinui

Requests are: open!

Masterlist

#lesbian #abby the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #the last of us #abby anderson #sub!abby x reader #smut #abby anderson fic #abby anderson fan fiction #boowrites★#boo’sadultcontent★

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umi-adxhira · 1 year ago

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So Ikevil MC seems to be brave at times but she’s pretty demure

so can I request a more sassy, fiery, feisty, take no shit MC?

Spacific lay with our favorite foul mouthed man Jude (my fav 😍)

The others if you want but not required only if your in the mood to write them

I’m thinking maybe when she’s first getting to know them and Jude is being his normal foul mouthed rude self and MC Is basically just “oh hell no I’m a put this man in his place”

I imagine this type of mc x Jude down the line would wind up turning into a sort of enemies to lovers type tho g 😂 (ofc my fav trope)

Thanks!

𝐉𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐙𝐙𝐀 | 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: ᴊᴜᴅᴇ ᴊᴀᴢᴢᴀ

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: We love a sassy MC putting a foul-mouthed man in his place. Also, enemies to lovers is my favourite trope, and Jude is my favourite character in the game, so this is perfect. Uses she/her pronouns but could also be gender-neutral

𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊

"Quit your yappin' already. You don't want to see me mad,"

"Oh, I definitely wish to see the 'foul-mouthed', 'evil' Mister Jude get mad. It will certainly be entertaining to see a child throw a tantrum for his favourite toy," You mock teasingly, causing an irk to rise from Jude's forehead.

Ellis intervenes, hopefully before his contractor decides to put a hole in your head, "Should we get going, Mister Jude? We need to leave now so we can get to the company on time for the meeting,"

"..." Jude pauses for a moment before ultimately letting out a sigh, "Fine, let's get this shit over with. I had enough to deal with today, I'm already in a foul mood because of this ugly, scrawny dimwit,"

"I'm not a mirror, Mister Jude," You retort with a giggle, catching the way his features tensed up for a second before maintaining his cool.

This was always a thing between you and Jude. You'd like to say he started it by being the Emperor Ass that he is, but you have to admit you caused this situation to rise a little bit.

From talking back to him to openly defending Victor in the petty squabbles those two have, no matter how much in the wrong Victor is, but you digress.

You could say you were enemies. Everyone would notice the tension build up when both of you are in the same room together, but despite this, you admired his ability to take control of the room with ease, especially in a well-known trading company. But you'd never admit that.

But there was one incident you would never be able to forget...

"I'm not interested. Please leave," You were waiting for Harrison in a pub as this was the place he usually be at around this time. He did mention that he may be a few minutes late, which wasn't a problem. Well, until that drunkard tried to score you.

The man wasn't having it, grabbing your arm and pulling you off your seat. "Aaah, come on! I can show you a good time~ I'm sure whatever man you're with now can't pleasure you the way I can!"

You tried to pull your arm away from his grip, grunting as he cackles at your failed attempt. Apparently, being drunk gave him super strength.

You look around desperately at the other people at the bar as a desperate plea for help, to which they all avoided their eyes. Well, you certainly aren't going to be coming to this pub in the future.

He drags you out of the pub, and his sloppy movements cause you to lug around poorly, sometimes tripping on your own feet. You pray to find Harrison walking to the pub, but alas, he was later than usual.

The drunkard continues on, throwing you against the wall of an abandoned alleyway, holding you in place with his foot pressed up against your stomach.

The sudden impact made you yell in pain, toppling over if it wasn't for his leg in the way. "Stop being so loud... do I have to teach you to be obedient?"

"Maybe when you fixed that rugged look of yours and get a decent life, maybe then you can think that you can control me, you utter idiot,"

"You..." He mutters, teeth gritted as he kicks your stomach again, harder than the last time. "You're just like your boyfriend, huh. A foul-mouthed rat who should be better on the streets,"

"What... boyfriend...?" You try and muster the courage to ask.

The drunkard was irked at your question, "That bitch of the trading company. Seeing his girlfriend suffer like this will make him pay... maybe I should kill you for revenge!"

So he hurt you because he thought you were associated with Jude, huh? Maybe you shouldn't go near him anymore if you even survive.

Suddenly, the man was on the floor unconsious, leaving you free. Before you could land on the floor, strong arms held you up. "Mister Jude, she’s injured,"

"She’s fine," Jude dismisses almost immediately, watching you with a small glimmer of pity as he sees you clutch your stomach in pain. "Give her to me," He orders, practically pulling you towards him to be carried.

Ellis stands up from his crouched position, "Are you sure?" He does not answer, simply walking away from each passing second, not realising the soft breaths coming from your sleeping form.

You woke up the next day, Roger said you were fine but advised you to stay in bed for, the next few says until you feel 100% better for you to walk around with no abdominal pain.

Harrison apologised for leaving you alone in a pub, hoping to make it up to you. Ellis visits you every day, asking you the same question, "Are you okay?" before making small talk and leaving.

Today, you finally decided to ask why he asked you the same question, to which he replied: "Mister Jude ordered me to check in every day to see if you were alright. I think he felt bad because you got hurt because of him,"

"Oh..."

"He's in his room right now. I can take you there if it makes you happy,"

"Thank you, Ellis,"

With a knock on his door, you enter, not bothering to wait for his response. After all, you would have come in even if he said no.

His eyes look uo to find yours, in a small shock. His expression immediately turns back to his normal, grumpy façade. "What do you want?"

"You know, if you wanted to know how I was doing, you could have just come to me yourself,"

He turns away, mindlessly sorting through papers scattered on his bed. "I wasn't worried. If you died, I would not hear the end of it from the Queen. Besides, yer fine. You were just on bed rest because Mother Roger wouldn't stoo yappin'"

"But why bother asking Ellis to ask me how I'm doing if you knew I was alright?" You close the door behind you, making your way to his bed, sitting down on the edge of it.

Jude pauses for a moment, trying to come up with a structured answer, which would make you go asay the fastest, "Because I was worried for yer stupid ass. That fatass won't hurt you again, I've made sure of it. So don't worry about shit, alright?"

You giggle at his tsundere side, leaning over to gove him a wick peck on the cheek. "Well, thanks for saving me, back there. Who knows what would have happened," You stand up from your seat, making you way to the door, noticing how Jude's face flushed a bright pink. "See ya around, Mister Jude~"

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil fic #ikevil jude #jude jazza #ikevil jude x reader #ikevil ellis #ellis twilight

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foolforharrry · 2 years ago

Text

Nails And Croissants

Word Count: 2.5k words

Summary: Harry and Willow go to get their nails done

This is just a short little thing to get the feel of how I wanna write the characters in a book that I'm planning. I an really excited about this and I hope that when I get to posting the actual chapters, you guys are going to like them and love them too.

This blurb is obviously way down the line from where the story is going to start but I wanted to give you guys a small taste of them.

This is also not that carefully written and is probably messy af, but I hope you still enjoy reading it.

if you wanna read more of my work, I have it all linked on my masterlist.

Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and if you have any requests please feel free to give them to me and I will do my absolute best to do it.

Harry Styles Butterflies erupt in my stomach when I catch her eyes across the room.

The sunlight beaming in through the windows of the small nail salon makes the lighter strands of her brown hair look golden.

"What are you getting?", I ask her once she's sat down at the table right next to mine.

Her cheeks tint an adorable shade of pink when Willow's nail tech for today, Aspen, sets the bottles of nail polish Willow's chosen for today. "I swear it wasn't on purpose," she hurries out, her eyes flicking between the colours next to my own hands.

"Damn. And here I was getting excited thinking you wanted to match with me," I say with a playful roll of my eyes.

The laugh she lets slip is like music to my ears, and all I want to do is lay a kiss on her pretty, pink lips. But Mona coating my nails with a clear layer of base polish prevents me from doing so.

Instead, I settle on storing the image of Willow's face scrunched up with joy and laughter to memory. Her freckled, sun-kissed skin and the smile that doesn't just light up the room but my whole entire life.

"You're an idiot," Willow giggles, letting Aspen arrange her hands the way she needs them.

"I'm your idiot, though.", I remind her. To my delight, my words have another heartbreakingly beautiful break out on her face as she mouths 'I love you'.

Out of my peripheral vision, I can see Mona and Aspen exchange a look as I mouth 'I love you' back.

And God do I love her.

I never thought that I would ever be the kind of man who happily takes his girlfriend to get a manicure on my day off feeling like my heart is about to fucking burst from the love that's flooding it. The part of my heart I had tried so hard to keep under lock and key to protect it from being burnt again. But instead, Willow came along and took it in her soft hands. The calm of the sea in her eyes is all I needed to see before I let her.

"You ok, baby?" Willow asks, a crease of concern between her eyebrows.

Clearing my throat, I offer her a genuine smile, "Yeah, Blue. I'm ok." I can tell that she isn't entirely convinced, so I add; "Was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you."

The blush returns to her cheeks as Mona asks me to remove my hands from the UV-light machine. Which means that she's ready to give my nails some colour.

For the rest of the appointment, we make small talk with Aspen and Mona with the comfortable hum of the radio in the background. When a song by Taylor Swift I still haven't learnt the name of, Willow was out of her chair to turn up the volume with the permission of Aspen with a childish glee that she rarely lets show with anyone other than her closest people.

I swear I fell more in love with Willow when I watched her dance her way back to her chair.

Hand in hand, Willow and I walk out of the nail salon, freshly painted nails and bright smiles on our faces as we wave goodbye to Mona and Aspen. Our names are already on their calendar for next time.

I can't help myself from glancing down at our cojoined hands every couple of seconds, my heart fluttering at the way hers match mine.

Baby blue and pastel pink.

"H?" I don't even have to look at her face to know that Willow has her bottom lip tucked under her teeth and round eyes that'll have me giving into whatever comes out of her pouty lips.

"Blue?" I mimic her tone, tugging her closer to me so she doesn't bump into the man walking past us.

Willow lets go of my hand and before I can reach for it again, a pout on my lips, she snakes her arm around my back, my own going around her shoulders. "Are you hungry?"

I'm not. But knowing that she is and doesn't want to just ask directly, I don't say that. "What do you want, baby?"

It's like her shoulder deflates in relief the second the words leave my mouth and it has me turning my head and planting a kiss in her hair as I let her take her time settling on what she wants. Almost like she'd read my mind, she perks up, pointing across the street to what looks to be a small bakery.

"How about some croissants?", Willow suggests as I meet her eye.

"Croissants sound lovely," I agree, pouting my lips for a kiss.

Willow drops her gaze to my mouth at the action. Standing on her tiptoes, her hands gently cup my face as mine drop to her hips and peck. Her lips are soft as she presses them against mine in a way that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I can smell the coconut from her favourite lip gloss when she pulls away with a dopey smile, swiping away the product she left just below my bottom lip.

Blush heats my cheeks as I kiss the pad of her thumb, "Thank you, baby."

Thankfully the crosswalk is just down the street, the lights turning green for us after only a few seconds so we can make our way across the road safely and efficiently with my arm back around Willow's shoulders and her hand on my hip.

The bakery Willow picked out for us has a homey vibe to it. Flowers stationed on every single table with warm pinks and soft yellows everywhere you look. The smell of baked goods strong even from outside the shop. For a Thursday afternoon, it's rather busy.

Willow and I stood in silence as we waited for it to be our turn to order, content just watching the different people come in and out of the bakery every time the bell above the door rang.

The display of all the different options of baked goods is god damn mouth-watering and I make a mental note to bring Evelyn and Willow back sometime during the weekend. Knowing Evelyn, she would be over the moon over a cupcake that looks like a rainbow.

When it becomes our turn, I order us two croissants, thanking the lady behind the counter with a smile as she hands us the paper bag. And then we're on our way again.

"I was thinking that we should take Evie there," I speak as I take her hand in mine, resuming our walk back to the car with my eyes switching from the path in front of us to her face.

Meeting my eye, Willow nods with a hum, "When were you thinking?" "Maybe Sunday?"

Before she can ask, I add, "They're open."

"She's gonna have a hard time picking, poor thing," Willow laughs light-heartedly.

"Mhm," I hum in agreement, the smile that rarely ever seems to fade whenever I'm around her. If we're being completely honest, Willow and I both know that I would buy Evelyn every single one she wanted just to keep a smile on her face.

"I miss her," I say with a pout as we round the last building, my eyes landing on my car.

Willow rolls her bottom lip into her mouth before she opens it and says something I never in a million years thought I'd hear from her; "I don't know how you're gonna survive when she's off to college, babe."

Dropping her hand, I clutch the material of my t-shirt over my heart as if I was in pain. "Don't hurt an old man like that, Blue. I'm fragile."

"Oh shut up, H. You're not that old," Willow giggles with a hand on her stomach. Her nails match her pretty sundress and it has another swarm of butterflies flapping around in my tummy.

"It was still mean," I grumble with a pout, the thought of my little girl leaving one day isn't exactly one I enjoy.

Willow shakes her head at my attitude. "I'm sorry, love," she says with a pinch of my hip.

"You're lucky I love you," I say as I take her hand again, loving the warmth of her soft skin against mine. She grins at me, "The luckiest."

The soft curls of her hair dance in the light breeze blowing past us. Her golden skin glows so prettily in the sunshine she doesn't even look real. The light reflects in her baby blue eyes makes them twinkle as if the sun was hung in the sky at this very moment just for her.

I'm convinced that Willow is an angel sent down to this plane from the heavens above. Her calm, beauty and grace is simply too delicate to be meant for the harsh, painful world that we live in. But somehow, with all that she's been through, she still leaves a trail of light in her wake. She has lit up my life the way the sun lights up the sky after a dark night with only specks of light so far away you almost don't believe that they're real.

"No Blue. I'm the lucky one."

I'm sure she can hear the emotion that has started to clog up my throat, but she doesn't comment on it. Instead, she guides my hand to press a gentle kiss to my knuckle just as we reach the car.

I reach into my pocket for my keys, pressing the button to unlock the black range rover as I walk around to the passenger side with Willow in tow to open the door for her, quickly pecking her temple as she slips past me and gets settled in her seat with the bag of croissants in her lap.

By the time I'm sat in my own seat, she's opened the bag and is munching happily on her croissant. Eyes closed, head tilted back against the headrest and humming in the way she something is particularly delicious. She's got her hand underneath the pastry to catch any crumbs that may fall when she takes a bite out of it.

Just as I get out on the road, Willow's phone connects to the Bluetooth system in the car, the song switches to 'Right where you left me' by Taylor Swift.

It's almost comical how fast Willow's jaw drops along with her hand just as she was about to take another bite of her croissant. Her eyes go from the screen where the title is written in clear letters to my face. Accusing frown on her face as Taylor's voice and the gentle guitar fill the silence.

There isn't even a point in trying to contain my smile at the way it takes her around 5 seconds before she is turning up the volume and singing along to the song. Dramatic hand gestures and facial expressions that I catch out of my peripheral vision.

When she twists her upper body so she is fully facing me and sings; "I could feel the mascara run. You told me that you met someone," I can't help but take her hand and join her.

Who would have thought singing a heart-wrenching song about being left and unable to move on with the love of your life while driving down the streets of Los Angeles would have images of her in a white dress flash through my mind and a certainty settle in my stomach like I have only felt once before in my life?

When the song ends, Willow turns the volume back down, her face flushed from her intense performance and a shy smile curling on her lips.

If there wasn't a chance that doing so would potentially end in both of our deaths, I would've kissed her until we were both dizzy.

"You want your croissant?" Willow pulls the untouched one out of the bag, holding it out to me with her eyebrows raised in question.

Instead of saying anything, I open my mouth expectantly, waiting for her to get the hint. And when she does, she rolls her eyes playfully, still obliges and holds the pastry right in front of my face. She waits for me to take a bite out of the soft, crunchy slice of buttery heaven.

"Fuck me, that's good," I practically moan through a mouthful of croissant. This is possibly the best croissant I have ever had in my life.

Chewing it slowly, savouring the heavenly taste, I catch Willow with her phone out, pointed in my direction and a sly smile on her face. "What are doing, Blue?"

"You look really hot, is all," she shrugs, stuffing her phone underneath her thigh.

Willing the blush I feel heating up my face at the compliment go away, I point out the obvious; "That doesn't answer my question." Only Willow can have me blushing like a schoolboy and biting the inside of my cheek at a simple compliment.

"I got myself a new wallpaper for my phone," she tells me matter-of-factly as she squeezes my hand.

I rub the skin of her knuckle as the corners of my mouth tug up into a smirk, "If that's the case, then you can take as many pictures as you want."

When she stays quiet, taking bites of her croissant before letting me do the same, her left leg bouncing under beneath our cojoined hands, I can't help but laugh as the realisation dawns on me. "How many pictures do you actually have of me?"

She says something, but it's so quiet I can't make out the words. "I can't hear you, baby."

"I said that I've lost count," she repeats herself with a sheepish look on her face. "You don't exactly make it hard, baby."

"You ever gonna let me see these photos?" Knowing her, it's probably half pictures where I look decent and half pictures that could be turned into memes.

Willow takes a minute before she answers, seeming to mull over the answer in her head. "No."

"Then I'm not letting you see the wonderful collection I've gathered of you, Blue." It may be childish, but it does exactly what I wanted it to. Willow's grip on my hand tightens ever so lightly and I can feel her practically burning a hole into the side of my face with the intensity of her stare.

But she is stubborn, so she keeps her lips pressed tightly together. She keeps her view directed out the window at the cars, buildings and people we pass by.

"Am I sleeping in any of them?" she eventually breaks the silence. Her fingers drum along with the rhythm of 'Sweater Weather' against the back of my hand, something that I've noticed that she always does when she listens to music.

"A couple," I confess, holding in the urge to laugh at the way her cheeks turn crimson.

Clearing her throat, Willow tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. "If they ever see the light of day, you're losing your dick."

Slightly taken aback by how casually such crude words flew out of her mouth, I swallow hard with wide eyes, "I will remember that."

#harry #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles masterlist #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles #one direction #fanfiction #masterlist #fluff #original character #dadrry #dad harry styles

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